#dorian x taio

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3 years is probably too long to still be crying in the car over my Taio x Dorian playlist, isn’t it

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Taio kissing an angry Dorian on the forehead

My askbox is a disgrace but I will get through it one of these days

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How it Started vs How it’s Going

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Happy valentimes to these four idiots

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Argueménte

They were probably both hangry

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At my most beautiful

I count your eyelashes secretly

With every one, whisper, "I love you"

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When the sandstorms blow up there’s nothing for it but to find cover and wait it out, and catch a little sleep where you can get it

( @thiefylilelf I didn’t forget you! )

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dorian complaining and adaar doing jack shit about it but telling him how cute he looks angry and making the problem worse

"Would it kill us to find an actual FORD once in an age, so we stop scrambling up and down every muddy embankment on the continent?"

"We'll get you boots with a better tread."

"You're being patronizing."

"I'm not!"

"When you say ~I'm not~ and smile that way, you're absolutely being patronizing and also an awful liar."

"How can I be patronizing if I can't lie?"

"Oh, for the love of...I know it doesn't require a magic hand and you're busy with so many other delightful chores, but will you PLEASE haul me out of this river before another bear shows up?"

* * * * *

"I swear on the Maker, this horse is tripping over every stone in the Dales on purpose. She's a menace."

"She's not, Dorian...she's doing her best."

"Do you speak to horses now, Cole?"

"Animals don't keep secrets."

"Well, tell her if she doesn't step more carefully I won't be able to cross my legs for a fortnight."

"It's all right, Cole. After this assignment we can ask Master Dennet if there's a pony more Dorian's size. Or at least a feather-stuffed saddle."

"Oh, indeed, the ballads shall sing of the Dread Inquisitor Adaar...a qunari with a sense of humor."

"Hey Vint, lemme know if you need the kinks worked out later."

"Amendment. One with a sense of humor, and another with a death wish. I've had it with all of you."

"...with me, too?"

"Y...no, Cole. You're all right."

* * * * *

"Mountains! Cold! 'Let's bring Dorian!'. Where in blazes is the fire?"

"You know, Vint, you can snap your fingers anytime!"

"Well it isn't my turn, is it, you lazy brute. Anyway, I can't feel my fingers."

"At least you have all ten of 'em..."

"Ah, but for how long?"

"Here...take your gloves off."

"Inquisitor...Adaar, it's fine."

"No, here...better?"

"Mm. That's warm."

"Yeah."

"...how long are you going to let me get away with keeping my hands in your jacket?"

"Until you quit your bitching--!"

"--I NEVER WILL!"

"Alright, you two, that's enough."

* * * * *

"I've one job, and one job only, by the Maker's shiny gold cutlery, I will do it. He was proud of himself. At the end."

"That's great, Cole. That's...that's super. Boss? There's no loot here. What do you want to do?"

"I need a minute. The one with the arms...the spikes, almost cleaned my clock. Is my horn chipped? Bull, can you see?"

"Nah, just a scuff. It'll polish out."

"My head's still ringing. We have daylight, though...let's keep going northwest. Dorian, what do you think?"

"..."

"Dorian?"

"Yes. Northwest. As you say."

"Dorian, are you all right?"

"Fine. Tired. It's...fine."

"Shit, 'Vint, you look gray."

"Dorian, here...sit...come on, lean on me."

"I...just need my potions case. Please. I can't quite..."

"You're all out. You don't have any more?"

"He's nearly hollow. The song wants in."

"No. No, Dorian. Come on. We need to get you away from the red lyrium. Okay? Shit...Dorian, why didn't you say something?"

"You...always tease."

* * * * *

"You're an awful bed hog."

"Oh...you must be feeling better."

"I don't. My head is staging a rebellion. My stomach, too."

"Poor guy..."

"Something in my mouth has already died. Where are we?"

"Direstone camp. Still first watch. No, don't get up, it's fine."

"You must be numb from the waist down sitting here."

"You're a good lap warmer. Even when you're mumbling in your sleep."

"Don't make fun. All I have on your scouts is my evil magister intimidation factor...now I've been seen with a case of the vapors and my stamina is in question."

"You told me about mana imbalance. I should have paid more attention."

"Yes, you should've."

"And you should have said something."

"Why? Only to be reminded I'm a spoiled princeling who can't clear trees by headbutting them, unlike some members of this party? If I hadn't run out of lyrium tonics I'd have been fine."

"I don't want you to just be -fine-, Dorian. I want you here, with me. Whining the whole time if necessary."

"Oh...Taio, I daresay that's rather romantic..."

"I'll make you a deal. You go back to complaining, and I'll be sure to give my spoiled princeling a chance to prove his stamina more often. I promise."

"Since we already know you're an awful liar, I accept."

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Tiao is sick and dorian makes him feel better with bad stories and 'this one time, felix and i...' fun times. Tiao feels better but just grabs dorian gently by the hand like 'please just get rid of the headache'

Naturally Dorian's like "Oh goodness, no, I don't ~heal~".

Taio's all "You can try...if you kill me I won't mind."

"I tried warming your shoulders, and that made the front of your head hurt. Then we tried ice on your forehead and that made the back of your head hurt. And if you’d listened to me about the lyrium rather than being conned by that shiftless ‘specialist’ of yours, we wouldn’t be here to begin with. I'm afraid there's nothing for it but to suffer."

"Is there a demon, that, like...eats headaches?"

"Mm...sloth, perhaps?"

"Call him."

"Oh my darling…you really are in a bad way, aren't you. Come here." And Dorian cuddles Taio and massages his horns. "Felix did get them badly…I remember one absolutely abysmal hangover when he got into the date wine thinking it was honey cordial. Willow and coltsfoot took care of it, but not before he vomited all over his mother’s—“

“Dorian.”

“Yes, amatus?”

“Get me pills.”

“Well that’s a rather boring solution from a man brimming with ~ideas~ …unless one were to say—“

“It was a bad idea.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear.”

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does Dorian tell Tao everything he knows about wine. like aging, good grape farms, wine drama. can Tiao even tell the difference. btw I love your Inquisitor so much

He does! And the more Dorian drinks, the more he talks.

Dorian goes on about grape varietal patents and soil nutrients with a level of detail that he’d normally apply to thaumaturgical equations and alchemical formulas — the academic in him has a penchant for rambling, and a small part of him is convinced that, if he talks too elaborately about magic, Taio will get bored or insulted or creeped out (or some other irrational worry that would never actually occur because Taio would listen to him read the phone book if Thedas had one) so he sticks to safe things, imagining it wouldn’t be so bad if that was all they had to think about.

Taio definitely has a palate for wine, but he doesn’t devote much time and energy to expanding it. Mostly, he likes listening to Dorian talk the husbandry and logistics of it, the mundanity. He finds it soothing. It reminds him in a distant way of the boring farm village where he was raised, and the lovely though unlikely image of Dorian with dirt under his nails napping on a sun-beaten terrace, an expanse of vineyards on all sides keeping the outside world away.

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Oh my god! I love Dorian! I'm majorly, totally, butt-crazy in love with Dorian! But now I don't know how to act around him.

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For the drabble thing, how about some early morning Dorian and Taio?

His head feels slightly misadjusted from the rest of him, the distinctly stretched-thin feeling of not enough sleep, and he rolls his face into the mattress to block the redness of the lit lamps on the other side of his eyelids. "S'the middle of th'night..."

"It's almost sunup."

Taio's voice is somewhere across the room, and Dorian inches himself and the blankets into what he hopes is still the bigger man's warm spot. It is, and the pillow smells deliciously of horn balm and clove oil. "S'it Corypheus?"

A faint chuckle, a rough clearing of the throat. Water splashes in a basin. "No, it's not Corypheus." The words are muffled by a towel or the like.

"Then come back to bed." It's useless. It's a conversation now, and Dorian is too polite to fall asleep in the middle of one, but he doesn't need to open his eyes yet as he hears bare feet padding across the stone. Then, the sudden tap of ceramic against the bedside table, and a waft of black tea and orange peel.

And then Taio is leaning over him, mouth smelling of fresh cloves, nose cold and still damp as he presses a long kiss to Dorian's cheekbone. "Come on. Get up."

The tea is strong and dark enough to scour his stale tongue, and Dorian cradles the cup to his face and lets the heat soothe his sore sinuses. There's a storm due to arrive later in the day, Taio tells him. They weren't meant to depart for Sahrnia until mid-morning, but if they wanted to get down the mountain it'll be safer in the dark than in a blizzard.

Dressing for the cold takes energy neither of them have this early, and they end up sitting shoulder to shoulder to pull on double layers of socks and thick wool leggings. The tower bedroom is massive, but they somehow can't help but gravitate as they continue to dress, bumping hips and shoulders as Dorian applies his pomade and Taio arranges his belts and greatsword harness over his doublet and mail.

The Inquisitor's left hand is stiff and clumsy first thing in the morning; he sits gratefully back down on the end of the bed as Dorian crouches to finish the straps of his boots for him. In return, he cradles Dorian's cheek in that hand as he uses his far more agile one to carefully paint kohl along his lover's dark lashes. Dorian is more than pleased to close his eyes for a few more minutes. They'll share Taio's pot of homemade eyeblack on the road -- they share everything on the road now.

"Our packs are with Morris already..." The yawn Dorian has been holding back stretches loose, wide and undignified. "Could Inquisitor Adaar be fashionably late?"

Taio smiles, bright eyes still heavy, and even through their layers Dorian can feel his wondrous heat as he pulls him into an inelegant, enveloping embrace. "Five more minutes."

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I will never not laugh at this dumb fucking expression on Taio’s face as the fruit basket joke slowly percolates

Like he vibed so hard it killed brain cells

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WIP because odds are I’ll torture this thing into oblivion before I ever finish it

Find you a guy who looks at you like he’d get you done in a pile of monster guts

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Nightlight

this wasn’t supposed to be sinister but here we are

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My hand slipped

I’ll probably ruin this by the time I finish it so