#doriwall

[dragormir]

Dorian and Blackwall living in Tevinter?

Blackwall is pine forests and grand oaks with sprawling branches.  He is wet earth and cold rain.  He is a dry summer and a field of wheat stretching over the plains.

Tevinter is wet and muggy, a hothouse to grow flowers in.  It is palms and orange groves stretching beyond his sight, a whisper of tropical insects in the night.  Tevinter is everything the south is not - fine silks and light cottons and flowing garments.  The south is heavy fur, wool coats to ward off the chill, clothing to survive a winter.

But he will wear the light cottons and flowing garments.  He is pine forests and grand oaks and a cold night spent in front of the hearth, but for Dorian, he will learn to be a warm summer and an evening spent in an orange grove.

Blackwall is a pine forest, growing in soil not meant for it, but for Dorian, he will adapt.

[dragormir]

Send me prompts!

Will accept prompts for Adoribull, Doriwall, Dread Peacock (Solas/Dorian), and Sebhawke.

[grimark]

i started writing a doriwall

I want to continue this okay!!!

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Sera’s brought a friend to the pub with her.

She’s sitting on a table, knee bobbing up and down, occasionally cackling at something someone says. Her friend leans against the wall next to her, looking down to engage in conversation with Sera’s latest girl. Little or Wittle or something like that, Sera called her. Thom can't remember. Maybe if this one sticks around he’ll bother finding out her actual name. If not, he guesses he’ll let Sera pretend she's not upset about it, and go get a pint with her. And hold the fuzz-head’s hair back when she's sick in the gutter, of course. Same as usual.

Sera’s friend, though, he's something different. Not like the people she usually hangs out with. Something about him sets Thom’s teeth on edge. Sera obviously thinks he's alright though, if she's friends with him. And he obviously gets on with Sera’s girl, if their conversation is anything to go by.

He's pretty, that's all. Thom doesn't trust pretty men, at least not ones that look so slick and polished and insincere as that.

The little group clustered over by the wall obviously notices him looking. Sera grins brightly and waves him over.

“Hey, Beardy!” she calls. “Widdle and Sparkle-butt here need your advice! They're making a trebuchet!”

Ah, Widdle, that was it. And Sparkle-butt. Typical Sera.

“A trebuchet,” Thom says. Now he can kind of see why Sera is hanging around these people.

“A magical trebuchet,” says Sparkle-butt.

“We were going to turn a vacuum cleaner into a marshmallow cannon,” Widdle explains. “But we decided to get a bit more ambitious with our DIY siege engines.”

“Sure, why not,” says Thom, as Sera bounces up and down excitedly on the table.

Anyway the premise is they meet through Sera, and they’re very much each other’s type (Blackwall likes pretty and refined but also kind of smart and dangerous types, see Josie. Dorian likes BIG BEEFY DUDES). Obviously they kind of get on each other’s nerves a bit too, so they have kind of rough hatesex where they both pretend they’re not really into the other, and it’s not terrible but not quite right.

They keep running into each other, a trebuchet gets made, and during a series of amusing hijinks they learn to get along bit better. Then it becomes apparent that Dorian is a bossy bottom who likes being taken care of, and Blackwall is like the biggest service sub the world has ever seen. When they admit to this and just work with it instead of trying to push each other around and pretending to be all tough, it turns out they’re actually pretty sexually compatible and they have a really good time.

Then they have a threesome with Bull or something and he gently doms them both and everyone is happy forever

[dragormir]

Currently accepting prompts. I’ll write just about anything.

[dragormir]

i would adore a cute doriwall thing! smutty or not id just love a domestic established relationship thing. Def partial to more vanilla action

Dorian’s favorite part of his relationship with Blackwall is that the man cooks.  He actually cooks. Dorian doesn’t know any man who can cook, or bake, or brew his own beer, or... Honestly, he has never met a man like Blackwall. He’s also never been in a relationship that didn’t start out by fucking the man. (Or being fucked, but that’s not the point.)

Blackwall isn’t really the type of man Dorian would have considered dating at any point in the past three years. But here he is, wearing one of Blackwall’s shirts and sitting at the kitchen table (which Blackwall made himself, big surprise there), watching his boyfriend make breakfast. The radio is on, some ridiculously Fereldan station, but Dorian actually enjoys it. Much like Ferelden beer, he’ll never admit to it. But the music reminds him of Blackwall, and pancakes.

(He’s only in this relationship for the pancakes, or so he jokingly tells Felix when they Skype.)

Dorian’s pretty sure he has a goofy smile on his face when Blackwall sets the plate down on the table, next to his cup of coffee.  He hides it behind a thick book on theoretical physics and feels the tips of his ears burn when Blackwall kisses the top of his head.

He’s terribly domestic, and he doesn’t care.

[dragormir]

I currently accept prompts for the following pairings/fandoms:

Dragon Age

Adoribull

Doriwall

Solas x Dorian

Sebhawke (M!Hawke only, please)

FenHawke

Mass Effect

MShep/Any Male

MShep/Cortez

[dragormir]

Where did doriwall go? I need it in my life

Prompt me! I have lots of prompt lists in my blog’s doriwall tag!

[dragormir]

Dorian/Blackwall 7

7: Separation (temporary, e.g. a few hours)

Dorian does not pace. Pacing is beneath the alti. Alti are always in control of their emotions, and pacing signifies a lack of control that is undignified. Pacing means that he worries. He’s not worried. (If he were worried, he would be throwing fireballs at a practice dummy.)

If he were worried, though, it would be because Blackwall - Thom Rainier - is facing the Inquisitor’s judgment.  Because Dorian has no idea how much of the... Well, he won’t call it a relationship anymore, but that’s because he’s not sure of how much of what he had with Bla...Rainier was real and how much of it was an act so no one would catch him out.  (In the scheme of things, though, lying about his real identity still put the fake Warden several steps above the last person who had lied to him during a relationship... Dorian wondered what that said about his affairs.)

He doesn’t want to admit it, even to himself, that he wants the fake Warden to receive a pardon.   He is a fool, but whatever else may come, he fell in love with Blackwall. Whatever the man’s real name is, Dorian hopes that... Well, he’s a fool in love and he has his hopes.

Dorian starts when the door opens and Blackwall looks in. Dorian’s back stiffens and he waits for the bad news. There is always bad news.

“I’ve...been pardoned,“ Blackwall says in a low voice, not looking at Dorian, “on the condition I beg your forgiveness for lying to you.“

Dorian thinks he could laugh, knot of tension in his belly loosening for the first time since Val Royeaux.