Aug 29, 2025
Oh to cuddle in the dark mountain night with your partners 🥹
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Oh to cuddle in the dark mountain night with your partners 🥹
WIP First Lines
I was tagged by the marvelous @gefionne and @elfyroot and @dayntee 🖤
No-pressure tagging @luzial @virshiral @aliceis-dead @tulipathy @vanillastrange @bibliobrickbat @transhades and anyone who would like to share.
My WIPs are… well, you’ll see. 😭
🖤Chapter 12 of The Revolution of Hearts
Elle is the little spoon, adrift in a balm of mint and rain and oak wood, awash in the whisper of the voice she loves above all others.
🖤Chapter 8 of As He Wanted
Ellana woke up in her bed alone, except for En’an’sal, still blissfully dreaming and snoring at her feet.
🖤Title tbd (Solas/Bull Cold War era spy romance)
Bull didn’t think of himself as a traitor. The very idea of becoming Tal Vashoth, burned like acid in the back of his throat. But he trusted Solas. He loved Solas.
🖤Title tbd (Shop Around the Corner inspired Prof. Solas/ Cam-girl Lavellan)
Solas could barely remember his own name as he unzipped his pants. He’d never visited a website like this before and wasn’t expecting it to be quite so…intimate.
“Are they unzipped?” Bunny purred, and positioned herself closer to the camera, her luscious breasts spilling from the top of the silk satin sheet she’d wrapped herself in.
“Yes,” he typed with one hand.
🖤The Jewel of the Fade (Fade prison/ Solas has to face is regrets naked, sexily. Heavily inspired by Wakefield Poole’s 1972 film, Bijou).
Naked, Solas walks through the shimmering tinsel curtain and marvels at the colossal pairs of carved, marble hands that greet him on the other side. Eight sets all told, as tall as dragons, bathed in pink light, forming a strange kind of arch — a gateway to the void beyond.
🖤The Slow Arrow & The Dread Wolf (a Western)
“The girl stays. You go,” said the man with his thumb twitching near the trigger of his holstered gun.
Solas didn’t say a word, just stared.
Felassan casually kicked his boots up onto the table, setting his silver spurs to sparkle and spangle in the man’s eyes. “Well, that’s not very kindly of you, sir. You might want to show my friend here a bit more respect.”
“Is that right?”
“You ever hear of The Dread Wolf?”
The man snorted, but swallowed so hard Fel could see the apple in his throat bob.
“He ain’t no Dread Wolf, and you ain’t no—“
🖤My Own Private Arlathan (TROH-related Solas/Fel)
“Fel, please,” Solas found himself begging, stranded on a cold stretch of road just outside of Emprise du Lion. “I am sorry.”
“You’re always fucking sorry, Solas.”
they're just having a cuddle.
Inside The Bone Pit, Bull and Solas sat at their usual table, snug and safe while a kinetic tableau of leather-clad bodies and colorful lights whirled all around them. Outside, Kirkwall bled. - The Bone Pit by @theriothag
stahhhp (but don't tho)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/81956006
by Anonymous
A mage, even the wisest and most learned, can be brought low with the right weapon. Solas has an unfortunate encounter with a poisoned Templar arrow, and in the aftermath, Iron Bull learns some strange facts about the Fadewalker.
Written for the Pride's Solace exchange.
Words: 7196, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: M/M
Characters: Solas (Dragon Age), The Iron Bull (Dragon Age)
Relationships: The Iron Bull/Solas (Dragon Age)
Additional Tags: Severe Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, solas is having a terrible time, Injury Recovery, inquisition era
A present I drew for the BTV Discord server Masked Satinalia event 🥰
Hmm.... for February - Wrecked, Solabull
—
He never looked more like the beast his name conjured to mind more than after the away team had slain a great dragon. His entire frame would be loose and tense at once, taking great gasps of breath to press against his rib cage, burly chest heaving as he tried to regain his sense of balance and revel in the high of slaying such a magnificent creature.
He threw back his head, rain that clung to his sharp horns dashing against the wet sand underneath them as he nearly howled with excitement. His grey muscle was slick with the constant rain of the coast and blood, splatters of the dragons mingling with stripes of his own, dark against the overcast light of the constant dreary weather.
“Ahhhh! Yes!!” he exclaimed, pumping his fists, his great axe clenched tightly between his fingers. “That was so good! Mmph!” His great, heavy shoulders shuddered, tainted rain water rolling off of their perch from the shiver of adrenaline and muscle underneath.
He turned quickly to the Inquisitor, the only other member of the Inquisition of similar stature to his own. “When it fired out that electricity–and then roared and tried to fly before you shot it–!” he started but cut himself off, groaning near in ecstasy. “Man that was incredible!”
Adaar turned back to Bull as she pushed aside a rock to a hovel, finding a small part of the dragon’s hoard. She cocked a slim eyebrow at his display of excitement, her own curved, gold-plated horns shimmering dull against what light was filtering through the clouds above them. Her tone was disinterested and flat. “Yeah, Bull, sure.”
Huffing, dejected by her dismissive lack of enthusiasm, Bull turned to look at the other party members, searching for a similarly enthusiastic expression.
Coming closer to the two of them on the rocky platform splashed by sand and pebbles was Blackwall, winded but not haggered, with blood drenching his brow and beard from a deep but harmless scratch somewhere on his scalp, and Solas, looking generally no worse for wear, beyond the fur ruff over his shoulder probably smelling really bad by now after being soaked by rain for days. That elf was going to reek of dog for at least a week after they got back to Skyhold, and he’d probably need a new pelt hide tanned for his “look.”
When it was clear that Blackwall’s singular mind was glued to the Inquisitor’s shuffling around in the pile of treasures as the Warden made a straight beeline to her back, Bull turned to Solas instead. The elf approached him, lithe feet moving easily over the pebbles as he approached the qunari.
Bull’s grin was all teeth and jagged corners in contradistinction to the serious pull of the other man’s brow and mouth.
“What do you think, Solas? Killing that dragon do anything for you?” he asked, his voice dropping with a gravely edge as he wiggled his eyebrows.
Solas didn’t answer and raised his hand, producing a small glowing orb without a word. The green glow spun through the air to hover close to Bull’s grey skin, revealing the mass of gashes and cracks in what little armor was on Bull’s non dominant arm. Much of the plating was burned or broken off entirely, leaving behind both charred remnants of stone and steel along with lacerations and burn blisters.
“You’re injuries are more severe than you seem to realize,” he said, voice composed besides an undercurrent of concern. “Allow me to assist you.”
He hesitated in answer, his grin faltering just a bit before it returned in earnest. His voice was lowered once more and teasing, “You worried about me, Solas?”
Blue eyes met his with a sharp look, but it was reprimanding rather than angry or upset. Bull could practically hear it ringing in his head without him saying anything.‘Of course I’m worried, don’t be so foolish.’
Solas’s long fingers hovered over his bruised and bleeding limb, either preparing to use healing magic or simply looking where to prod first. Bull took the opportunity to flex his arm, his hard muscles bulging under his skin, his grin never faltering despite the sudden rush of blood that it caused and the soreness from his wounds radiating through his nerves.
Solas huffed, finally bringing his hand to touch him, palm flat over a shallow bundle of blood quickly clearing by the rain pouring over them. His palm was warm despite the cold, even if his finger tips were cool in comparison to Bull’s hulking arm.
“You’ve no need for such a display, Bull. You only exacerbate your already bleeding injuries,” he chastised, pulling his eyes from the qunari’s jeer to focus.
He chuckled, unperturbed. “It’s nothing I can’t handle, Solas. It’s cute that you’re concerned, though. I like that look on you.”
He huffed once again through his nose, like an irritated dog, and gave him another look as his hands started to glow, the little orb zipping to hover over a particularly bad gash near his hand. Bull managed not to tense too badly as the winding magic quickly netted the wound closed, like magic stitches soothing over it to pull it shut. No matter how many times Solas helped him with magic, he would always be wary about its use against his body. Some things you just don’t shake so easily, like being told your entire life that magic was dangerous with no positive traits. Even if he was learning better now, the good it could do would never outweigh the harm it normally accomplished.
If Solas noticed Bull’s flinch, he didn’t show it. He finishes his spell quickly and removes his hand, looking from it back to meet his line of sight. A quiet tremor of thunder rumbles in the distance, followed by the plinking and clattering from the loot the Inquisitor and Blackwall were attempting to wrangle together. The metal was likely difficult to grasp in the rain.
He lets his hand fall and Bull shifted on his feet, hoisting his large weapon to secure it back on his back, pulling the strap to secure it.
After a moment Solas’s own expression shifted, his brow relaxing. Although his face was still rather neutral, his tone was lilting, “Is there a look that you do not enjoy on me, Iron Bull?”
Bull hummed thoughtfully as he heard the other two begin to approach, murmuring amongst themselves. His eyes traveled over Solas’s body in a very deliberate once-over before he answered, his tongue swiping at a spot of blood threatening to fall from his busted lip.
“You have a point, Solas.”
That earned the smile he was looking for. It was easy, not pinched at the corners due to Solas always trying to contain his reactions. It was genuine and honest. His chest bloomed with warmth at the sight of it in spite of the cool rain and the ache beating along his arms and chest. Even the adrenaline from the toppling the high dragon couldn’t top this.
---
AO3.
February Prompts.
Patreon.
WIP WHENEVER
I was tagged by the lovely @elfyroot 🖤
Here’s some proof-of-life that I am, in fact, working on chapters 11&12 of The Revolution of Hearts.
And this is from the very very very slow-going, but not abandoned, As He Wanted, Chapter 7.
Aaaand, from The Bone Pit, Chapter 2.
I’ve been really busy with work/life and feeling very overwhelmed and sad-sacky about my writing lately, so this was a nice reminder that I am actually making progress even if it doesn’t feel that way and even if some of it’s a mess. lol.
Anyway, back to being a goofball. No-pressure tagging: @aliceis-dead @liberaquantobasta-catossa @luzial @tulipathy @christeeenith @elynnism @virshiral @vanillastrange @bibliobrickbat @sousukeaizen @fadetouchedlurker @bitethebulette @sandetigerrr and anyone I might have missed who would like to. Meow meow. 🖤