The not so epic romance of Dorian Pavus of the illustrious House Pavus and Hissrad-- more commonly known as The Iron Bull-- of the Ben-Hassrath.

They are enemies before the Inquisition brings them together. When the tension of unexpected camaraderie gives way to something more, Dorian learns that the Iron Bull is almost nothing like what he expected. It leaves one to wonder: what does the future hold for a Tevinter mage and a Qunari ex-Ben Hasrath agent?

It takes a long, long time for Dorian to realize that he is still waiting for the Bull to finish what he started.

The temporary fall and subsequent Maker be damned rise of Dorian Pavus.

Dorian rolls onto his side to face him, squinting in the mid-morning light. "You wanted to talk, last night. So talk." "Mm, not like this." Bull cracks his neck, stretches his free arm above his head. Dorian doesn't even pretend he's not watching the muscles shift in Bull's shoulder. "You don't talk about sex in bed."

Cullen struggles with his lyrium addiction. Some days are better than others. Or (if you prefer a silly summary for a not-so-silly fic): In which Cullen is suicidally depressed, Dorian is a high-functioning alcoholic, and Bull just wants them both to be happy, except when he wants to crack their heads together for being emotionally stunted idiots.

The Iron Bull watched Cullen from the beginning, but it took time for Cullen to let himself be seen. After all, he'd become so good at denying what he wanted that he never learned how to take what he needed. “Half the lasses and lads in Haven have spent weeks trying to figure out how to make you blush. I just happen to be better than them at finding and exploiting the cracks in people’s armor.” “That’s rather ironic, given how little of it you actually wear.” “Are you kidding? That’s one of my best strategies. When people think that they can see everything about you already, they don’t worry so much about protecting their own weak spots.”

A letter from Dorian's father sends him into a rage that only the Iron Bull can calm.

All of Vyrantium's noble elite were invited to Magister Maecenas' dinner party to view her prize collection of Qunari antiquities and make polite conversation. Dorian Pavus had resigned himself to a long and boring evening, but a few wrong turns was all it took to change that.

"I get it, you want to—" "Ride the Bull, yes." She's a whisper of ruffles and fine silk passing him before he even knows it, leaving him leaning stupidly in her doorway. "Or rather, no. I am occupied for the remainder of the day with treatise work, Iron Bull. You will have to try again some other time. Please locate your pants and leave before the marquis arrives, which will be shortly." Bull isn't exactly courting material, but Josephine isn't always particularly courtly. Work Text:

There is nothing The Bull loves more than doing this to Dorian. Laying him out, tying him down so he can’t move, and just pleasuring him until he’s out of his mind with it.

The Iron Bull is a firefighter with scars and history to spare. Dorian keeps setting things on fire- like curtains, and dates. Or, the one where two messed up people find each other, Solas is a righteous avenger, Cullen really needs to stop online dating, and everyone gets a happy ending but not without some pain to go with it.

Summary: read the tags. that’s it, that’s the story. Or: Dorian gets a tattoo of The Iron Bull's name on his arse. And is then tagged in a completely different way.

That one where Adaar runs a dungeon called Horns. Because that's just how Adaar rolls.

In order to save his home, The Iron Bull returns to work as a professional Dom for a company known only as Inquisition. Dorian Pavus, known by the code name of Urthemiel within the Inqusition's carefully guarded walls, is considered a difficult client, and placed with The Iron Bull in the hopes that he can help. Together, they build something better than they were before.

Dorian enjoys being fingered while Bull watches television and Bull certainly has no complaints.

For the prompt, "Alistair being consensually wrecked by men as a submissive/bottom." This prompt just will not leave me alone. I feel like this fic should be rated T, and yet, every time I try to pick that, it feels wrong, too. So...despite the prompt, not actually all that smutty.

Alistair has spent his whole life hating himself for the things he wants. Zevran is just looking for a fun way to pass the time. What could possibly go wrong when someone who has no experience with sex gets into a D/s relationship with someone who has no experience with healthy relationships? Or: Alistair and Zevran serve as a case study on how to do (almost) everything wrong but still end up in the right place (eventually).

You can find some interesting things in those old, abandoned thaigs... ******* As a general warning: it's all 100% consensual, but there isn't a whole lot of negotiation on specific acts ahead of time, and there are a few (quickly corrected) mis-steps. Nobody gets hurt, or even actually upset, but I know that's a sensitive issue for some.

Daylen Amell really wishes Alistair was easier to hate. Then maybe he could stop thinking about what he'd look like on his knees.

Zevran has trust issues, self-worth issues, and general issues. Alistair helps. When he's not making it worse. Or: Giving someone a ring is supposed to be a symbol of deep commitment. A symbol, dammit. Or: Clearly Brosca isn't a Tolkien fan; otherwise, she would know that rings found in questionable cave systems make terrible gifts.

Various short smutty Tumblr prompts from July (oops). Pairings and prompt will be noted in the chapter titles.

Isabela is the last person Cullen expected to see in Skyhold, but since she's here, they might as well get re-acquainted.

Cullen knows he wants something. He’s just not sure what that something is. Dorian and Bull help him out.