#dulcidyne writes

[dulcidyne]

Tibias and Toe Picks

DA:VG//Emmrich x Rook//SFW//Complete Read on AO3!

It is a cold Wintermarch day and the River Minanter frost fair is in full swing.  Emmrich frets, Rook improvises, and Manfred? Manfred skates, of course.

It was a cold Wintermarch day, and the Minanter was a shimmery silver ribbon unspooling a lopsided bow through the city before trailing off into the frost-flocked eastern foothills. Manfred pointed to the dark specks and rainbow flecks dotting busily over distant the frozen river with his most excited hiss.

“Skate!”

Rook, leaning into Emmrich for warmth, her arm wrapped round his, looked up with cold-flushed cheeks and incredulity. “Manfred can ice skate?”

Emmrich winced, folding his palm over the mittened fingertips curling against his forearm. “He...has been making some progress over the years. Last winter, he only fractured the one patella, which was a remarkable improvement.”

“Ahhh,” she said knowingly, then smiled, her eyes dancing as she leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Couldn’t stop him, could you?” she guessed as she drew back. Her breath was a faint, warm puff against his skin.

“I try every year,” Emmrich lamented. “To no avail. He simply will not be dissuaded. It’s all I can do to minimize the damage.”

“Well, don’t worry,” she said, unlooping her arm from his to clasp his hands in her wool-knit fingers and level him her most confident smile. “This year you have me. I can help.”

A ‘don’t worry’ from anyone who wasn’t Rook would’ve only earned them a displeased frown. On principle, Emmrich took exception to such advice from colleagues and friends. ‘Don’t worry so much’—the careless and willful ignorance of the perpetually blasé. The aggravating simplicity of rephrasing the impossible into the prosaic. Oh, just like that? Don’t worry? Why, what a fool he’d been all this time. Why hadn’t that occurred to him?! 

But Rook’s ‘don’t worry’s were never advice or condescensions—they were promises. And a promise from Rook was not a thing to take lightly. She had a knack for achieving the impossible. If anyone could keep Manfred’s patellae intact, it was her.

Comforted, Emmrich smiled down at her upturned face before loosening his hand from her grip to trace his thumb over the high curve of one cold-pinked cheek. He could still scarcely believe all this was real, that she was really there with him, after everything that had happened. Even after so many months, half of him expected to wake up any moment and find himself back at his desk in the Lighthouse, surrounded by scattered papers and thrown-open texts, the lyrium knife a gleaming taunt as their last words to each other resurfaced over and over in his mind. 

But she’d made him a promise, and she was not a woman to be gainsaid. Fade prisons and gods be damned. And so, here she was, whole and perfect, her face a striking geometry of cheekbone, brow, jaw, and chin softened by her smile and the blush of cold. Pale constellations of snowflakes freckled over the wind-tangled wisps slipping free from the midnight blue of her cloak’s hood. He watched, utterly entranced, as a few lacy flecks dusted over the ruddy tip of her nose like confectioner’s sugar. Unable to resist the temptation, he kissed it, half expecting her to taste as sweet as she looked. 

Perhaps unsurprisingly, she only tasted of cold water. Until she canted her chin back and wound her fingers around the nape of his neck to reclaim the melted snow still on his lips. Emmrich sighed against the bold brush of her tongue, the warm, luxuriant glide faintly spiced with cinnamon and clove from the tea she’d downed like a shot right before they’d set out. 

The world unraveled around them, dissolving like the sugar cubes in her tea. There was only the press of her mouth against his, a slow, languid pull drawing him deeper into the soft, Rook-hazed eddies of spices and mingling sighs. It felt like stepping into a dream, the husky note curling at the base of her throat re-weaving reality with borrowed threads of the Fade. Everything was brighter. More beautiful. Colors coruscating in the dusk of his lidded eyes.

“Skate!” Manfred cried out again, befuddled and aggravated by their delay. “Not kiss.” 

Rook broke away with a stifled giggle. As yet, none of their explanations had managed to provide his erstwhile assistant with any real understanding of the concept of a ‘kiss’ or why  Rook and he had been…ah…rather preoccupied with the practice over the past several months.

“Sorry, Manfred,” she said, her smile crooking at a chiding angle as she leaned back against Emmrich’s hands fitted round her waist. “But this time, it wasn’t my fault.”

“I’m afraid it was, darling,” Emmrich argued, stealing one last kiss from her lips before drawing back and folding her arm around his in a single, smooth gesture. “It invariably is. Even when it isn’t.”

She settled against his side, fitting as snugly as if she were made for it. Or maybe the other way around—as if it had been made for her. Blasphemous as it was, he didn’t believe in the Maker’s will. Andrastrianism had abandoned him the moment he’d plucked his mother’s teacup from the rubble of their home. But in moments like these, he wondered if he should believe in something. In the divinity that existed between her shoulder and his side, a perfection of hollows and contours finding their respective matches. It was so small, but…he was more in awe of it than he’d ever been of any golden Chantry statue.

“Hardly seems fair,” she said with a playful sigh gusting up through a snowflake-studded curl.

“Dearest, imagine how I feel,” he replied, pulling her closer to his side as the snow crunched beneath their boots and Manfred ambled ahead.

As they drew closer to the riverbank, the smells of the frost fair food stalls curled beckoning fingers on every chill gust. Caramelized sugar and fried dough sprinkled with Rivaini cinnamon and nutmeg, roasted chestnuts and savory potato cakes laden with sage and rosemary. Beneath—the sharp, herbaceous whiff of balsam resin and juniper berries, clove-studded wheels of dried citron rinds fastened to garlands looped with diaphanous black crêpe to honor the ancestral dead as Nevarrans did in all celebrations.

Rook tipped her head to the side to nuzzle against his shoulder as she inhaled deeply. “When I was a child, I told myself one day I’d buy something from every single food stall at the frost fair.”

Emmrich chuckled, scanning the multicolored banners of the stall awnings garlanding the frozen riverbank in two opposing rainbows of oversized fabric pennants. He couldn’t even begin to count them all. As a child, his hopes had always been confined to a single pastry or a hot paper cone of chestnuts shared with his parents.

“You were always ambitious, then?”

“I don’t believe in doing things by halves,” she joked, cutting him a wry, sideways glance before her voice dropped into something softer. “It wasn’t so much about wanting the food as it was about wanting what the people with the food had. Seeing the parents and children and lovers and families huddling around the stalls, sharing and passing it around. To my mind, having neither, the food was the essential bit, so of course my dream was to get as much of that as possible.”

“Darling,” he uttered, pausing as they passed beneath one of the towering Van Markham statues lining the end of the boulevard.

“Don’t worry,” she assured him, playfully misinterpreting his dismay. “With you and Manfred with me, I’m sure I’ll be just as happy only buying food from half the stalls.”

Once again, it was entirely her fault when he kissed her. And this time, she was the one sighing against his lips, her generous mouth parting, pliant. It only made him restless and greedy. His arms found their way around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest as he drew back into the shadow of the statue, away from any prying glances from the boulevard’s passers by. 

“Highly…improper,” she teased, words catching between kisses, her mittened fingertips knitting round his neck. 

“Your influence,” Emmrich whispered breathlessly. The full jut of her bottom lip was endlessly fascinating. Petulant and petal soft. He could devote himself to the study of it and nothing else for years. Write an entire thesis on it. With footnotes, he thought headily, arms full of her, his teeth grazing needy indents into her lip as he hauled her against him. The dip of her hip against his thigh—half divine, half dream.

“Skaaate!” Manfred cried out, dragging the word out as if he’d been mortally wounded and this was his dying moan. And then again and again. Until he was repeating one unending litany of, “Skateskateskateskate.”

“Manfred’s right,” Rook sighed, drawing her fallen hood back over her hair after they extricated themselves from the impassioned embrace with clumsy, wobbling limbs. “We’ll never make it to the fair before dusk at this rate.”

Emmrich cleared his throat and straightened his tie pin—her roaming hands always left it a little crooked. “Yes, but, nevertheless. Patience and discipline are qualities we must strive to embody, no matter the circumstance.”

Manfred did an impressive job of looking utterly betrayed, his emeralds glinting with an aggrieved sheen as he stared up at Emmrich with a slackened mandible.

Rook cocked her head and laughed. “Is this lecture for us or for Manfred?”

Well… that was fair. He was painting a very fine picture of a hypocrite at the moment. Emmrich’s already warm neck warmed hotter, and he coughed delicately. After all his lectures and lessons—to be so easily overcome by his own desires and feelings. Besotted, he’d ruefully called it once. But he no longer felt any regret over losing his head around her. Rook was a veritable bundle of impulses and improvisation wrapped up in a lovely bow. She kissed him in public, on the street, without a thought or a care who might be watching. Pulled him back into bed when he rose at dawn, distracted him from his books and research, waylaid his lectures and lessons. And he loved every minute of it. There was a charm to a life with a little less regimentation.  

Or maybe there was just charm to a life with Rook in it.

Either way, he’d come to realize since their relationship began that his much lauded virtue of ‘patience’ was highly contingent on the strength of his desires. He was not, as it turned out, actually all too patient a man where Rook was concerned.

“A fine point,” he conceded. “My apologies for all the delays, Manfred.”

With a hiss of forgiveness, Manfred accepted the apology, and they made their way down to the river without (much) incident, arriving well before dusk just as the band began to play. The atmosphere on the ice was as jubilant as the rich smells from the stalls, laughter and voices rising into the air with the cheery carnival sounds of strings and brass, a trilling piccolo cutting through the happy shrieks of a gaggle of children racing past on sleds. Manfred goggled at the sight, nearly taking off after them before Rook and Emmrich wrangled him over towards the quieter side of the river, away from the tents and stalls offering ale, mulled wine, and coffee and over towards one of the puppet plays re-enacting a famous Pentaghast dragon hunt for a group of younger children.

With Manfred momentarily distracted by puppets, Emmrich rifled through his pack and produced stacks of handsewn leather pads. 

“These go on the joints,” he told Rook. “And these on the long bones. Do try to tie them as tight as possible or they will slip off.”

He showed her how best to fasten the knots and left her to it, before returning to the pack for the quilted gambeson and chausses. Rook’s glance flicked up to the gambeson, and she blinked.

“Emmrich, that’s—” “Too thin, do you think?” he asked, holding it out for inspection. He’d had Manfred sew in an additional layer of padding after last year’s patella incident, and the garment was now about the thickness of Emmrich’s pinkie. 

“Thin is not the word I’d use,” Rook said, smiling as she tugged the last of the fastenings tight around an ulna. 

Together, they managed to stuff Manfred, who was now giddy and fidgeting with excitement, into the unwieldy gambeson. The chausses after. At last, Emmrich produced a pair of modified bone skates and skating poles.

“He does much better with the older skates and poles,” he informed Rook, fitting the first shearling-soled skate to Manfred’s nubbly calcaneus. “I shudder to think how much harm he’d come to with the metal blade alternative.”

Rook smiled indulgently, helping him fasten on the second skate to his other foot. 

And with that, at last, Manfred was ready. Rook stepped back and took one sweeping look from cranium to talus, before dissolving into fits of laughter so hard, she doubled over and clutched her midsection.

With the additional padding, the gambeson now had a rather…rotund appearance. Not so much as an inch of pale bone was visible beneath the swaddling quilt, knit, and shearling—just Manfred’s pair of glowing faceted emeralds. At a glance and from far away, instead of a skeleton, one might see a strangely proportioned but portly living man.

“Skate!” Manfred cackled in glee from beneath the padded skullcap and wool knit scarf wrapped thrice round his cervical vertebrae. 

Emmrich smiled as Rook wiped away her tears of mirth onto her mittens.

“You look very handsome, Manfred,” she said at last. “And most importantly, very safe,”

“Yes, well,” Emmrich said, retrieving the two pairs of iron and wood skating blades from the bottom of the mostly empty pack. “After you, my dear.”

Dropping to a crouch, he held his hands out for her boot so that he could assist her in fastening them on—a rather complicated process. She’d worn her oldest pair for some reason; the outsoles worn so smooth,  it was a miracle she hadn’t slipped on the icy cobbles on their way there.

Rook blinked down at him, confused for a moment before comprehension banished the tiny furrow between her brows. “Emmrich, I can’t skate with those,” she said. “I’ll sprain both ankles in the minute!”

Ah. It hadn’t occurred to him, but of course it should have—while there were a good number with metal skates like the ones he had in his hands, most of Nevarra City’s poor made do without, simply sliding across the ice in their own shoes. Iron was an expensive commodity, an exorbitant purchase for the handful of weeks in the year when the river froze solid enough for skating. Hadn’t he learned with just his own boots, all those years ago?

He also realized belatedly why she’d worn those particular boots. 

“It’s not very different, you see,” he explained, standing to fasten the blade contraption over his own boot. “The blades lie nearly flat on the outsole; the advantage is that the metal produces less friction.” Lacing it tight, he tested his weight to ensure the bindings were holding appropriately, then skimmed his heel against the ice in one short glide to show her.

Rook only looked skeptical. “Let’s deal with one novice at a time, shall we?” she suggested. “Or we’ll have four broken patellae on our hands.” There was certainly wisdom in that, so Emmrich finished fitting the second blade on his boot before returning her pair to Manfred’s pack. Standing, he took Manfred’s left side and Rook took his right. Manfred pushed off with the sticks in one faltering glide before immediately veering, then tipping over onto Rook. 

She might’ve withstood the sudden onslaught of skeletal limbs…if it weren’t for that gambeson. With the increased bulk came increased weight, and the pair of them collapsed onto the ice with a co-mingled shriek and hiss. 

Emmrich cried out their names in succession, leaning over them to grasp one of the flailing limbs. As Manfred struggled like an upturned turtle, Rook rolled onto her back, still half-pinned by him, and directed her peels of laughter up towards the sky. 

“He’s so heavy with this thing on Emmrich, I can barely breathe!” she gasped. “Gravity,” Manfred informed them cheerfully as Emmrich pulled him off her. He seemed no worse for wear, Rook having broken his fall.

“Yes, and remember, it can be very dangerous, Manfred” Emmrich warned, reaching next for the laughing puddle of splaying midnight wool and woman. “Are you injured?” 

“A little flatter maybe, but otherwise fine,” she said, letting him draw her up and pat her down for a more thorough inspection. He didn’t entirely trust Rook’s definition of fine. She applied it rather loosely.

“I wasn’t prepared,” she added, as he skimmed his palms over her forearms, gently manipulating her wrists and elbows for sprains or breaks. She let him, without complaint, indulging his concern with a fond glance. “I don’t actually know if he can move in that thing, Emmrich. Perhaps we should–”

“We can’t remove it,” Emmrich protested, bending her wrist one last time just to be sure, his thumbs rubbing circles into her skin beneath the cuff of wool. “It’s the only thing keeping him safe.”

The corners of her smile tucked in as if she were biting it back and her eyes danced with obvious affection before she gripped his hand in hers and squeezed.

“Alright, then…perhaps one of us could pull him?” She scanned the crowds before her eyes settled on a woman with her child, skating backwards in short, faltering glides as she bent over and held the girl’s hands as she followed. “Like that.”

She shifted back, letting her worn boots glide back over the ice, tugging him with her to demonstrate further. “And the other can follow behind, just in case.”

Emmrich blinked. Then laughed. All these years, he’d been instructing Manfred in proper technique and form and adding more and more padding when it failed to take as well as he’d hoped. But it’d somehow never occurred to him to teach him the way he’d learned with his mother and father.

“What an excellent idea, my love!” he declared, beaming at her and wanting very badly to kiss her again. He might have if Manfred wasn’t eying the both of them with a beseeching emerald glint.

“Skate?” he rasped.

And so that’s what they did. With the sheer weight of the bundled up Manfred, Emmrich was the only one who could pull him without immediately stopping again in short order. Rook did a fair job of keeping up in just her boots, stringing together staccato glides with the practiced grace of someone who’d spent many winters on the frozen Minanter. She helped push Manfred along, falling behind, then catching up just in time to give him another gentle nudge. Not needing the skate poles or to watch where he was going, Manfred was free to throw his head back in glee, his crackling hisses joining Rook’s breathless laughs and Emmrich’s encouragement. With this promising progress, Emmrich finally conceded to removing the bulky gambeson, much to Manfred and Rook’s delight. Without the weight of the padding, they were able to pick up more speed, tracing zig-zags over the ice in their trio processional, Manfred’s cheery red scarf flapping behind him like a colorful woolen tail as he chortled his delight.

And what a difference that made! Not a solitary wobble or stumble, Emmrich was beside himself with pride.

As the beginnings of sunset bloomed over the skyline, deepening it into a spill of pinks and golds the color of the wheels of fried dough slathered in apricot jam sold at his favorite stall, Manfred’s attention fixed on the group of screeching and scampering merchant children sledding gleefully down the gentle slope of the riverbank, popping up at the bottom and racing to the top to do it all over again. With their vivid red, blue, and yellow cloaks, they looked like oversized out of season songbirds fluttering up and down the riverbank in raucous trills and chirps.

“Gravity!” he said.“Sled.”

“Oh, thank the Maker,” Rook puffed as she caught up, her rapid breaths wisping white clouds into the cold. “I’m about to drop.” They skated over towards the shallow riverbank and Emmrich removed Manfred’s skates while Rook went over to a nearby merchant’s stall to haggle over the rental price of one of the simple wooden sledges.

By the time she returned, Manfred was skateless but once again clad in the gambeson. 

“There may still be hidden rocks,” Emmrich preempted, even though he needn’t defend himself. There’d been no critique in her smile, only fond exasperation.

“I know I worry–” he began.

“You care,” she corrected, handing over the sledge to Manfred’s outstretched mittens before wrapping her arm back round Emmrich’s so she could nudge his side with her elbow.

“Besides,” she added, as Manfred scampered up the modest incline, hurled the sled into the snow at the top only for it to descend immediately without him, resulting in his outraged cry and subsequent chase.

“I think it’s normal to worry after everything that’s happened. It still doesn’t feel real sometimes. Like this is all a just dream and I’m—” She trailed off, clutching Emmrich’s arm tighter and flashing up a tremulous smile. “But then I take a look at that ridiculous gambeson and I realize there’s no way I could think up something like that on my own.”

Retrieving the sledge, Manfred trecked back up the hill, waddling back and forth to manage the weight of all the padding. They watched him ascend again, this time setting the sledge down carefully, and Emmrich sighed through the tightness in his chest. He’d already lost them once; he couldn’t bear experiencing such a thing again. It would destroy him.

“Sometimes I wish I could put you both in a box where no harm could ever come to you,” he admitted. “It’s…”

Overbearing. Neurotic. Highly impractical.

“A bit much, I know.” He winced down at the top of her head. Her hood had fallen back a bit again, exposing the part of her hair. Such a small thing, that neat little valley, and seeing it, he felt strangely bereft, as if he could still glimpse a world without it out of the corner of his eye.

“Gravity!” Manfred cackled as he cut a path down the slope.

“Don’t worry,” she said, resting her temple against his shoulder the way she always liked to do. “I’m not going anywhere. And neither is Manfred.”

Another promise. Weighter than before. Rook was impulsive in most things and speech was no exception; always starting sentences without knowing how she wanted to finish them. Always in a rush. Always in the moment. A woman in perpetual present tense. But this promise had all the gleam of the future, bright as gold, and it banished those shadows from the edges of his sight.

“Skate with me, darling,” he said, waving Manfred down before he could ascend the slope again and reaching into the pack for her skate blades.

“Don’t worry,” he assured her as he knelt down to lace them over her boots. He meant it the way she meant it: a promise he intended to keep. For as long as he was able. “I’ll be right beside you.”

“Manfred, stay in sight,” Emmrich instructed as he led Rook away from the bank towards the center of the ice, skating backwards and holding her hand so that he could brace her weight as she took her first hesitant steps.

Which shifted into hesitant strides once she found her balance again. Finally, she looked up from her scuffed-up boots to meet his gaze.

“It’s not so different at all,” she said, her grin radiant, eyes luminous with excitement and discovery.

More confident, her strides lengthened and the metal blades whispered against the surface, etching longer and longer criss-crosses of silver over the ice. With increased confidence, all her former grace returned, her hand lightening in his grip as her balance became effortless. She laughed, full and vibrant, and it joined the sound of bells and piccolo on the breeze flitting over the ice.

Emmrich shifted his weight, pulling her closer as their path shifted into a curve—an impossibility on anything but the metal skates.

“There are some differences,” he said, his grin matching hers.

Rook lit up, eyes gleaming with all the possibilities unfolding before her. The nippy Wintermarch air whipped around them as they picked up speed, etching out arcs and looping whorls. He loosened their clasp, a silent invitation, gliding to her side to guide her into a tighter turn. His hand slipped beneath her fluttering cloak, fitting against her waist to steady her as they spirographed across the ice, movements so fluid, they were almost instinctual.

Together, they spun a dizzying gavotte of intricate patterns, threading through a series of fleeting touches. His fingers brushing her waist, her arm, her back, and the playful whisper of her fingertips responded in kind as she spun away, only to return. The world became the rush of air, the crisp bite of frost, and the electric tingle of her ambient magic circling closer.

Distantly, he noticed they’d drifted too close to the bank. But before he could retreat to the safety of the river, as quick as a blink, a red woolen scarf and bundle of knit and shearling cleaved through the gap between them, Manfred chortling with joy and alarm.

Rook cut an impressive turn, neat as a pin, that sent her careening towards the near bank. In a flash of alarm, Emmrich realized he’d yet to show her how to stop on metal skates—something no one had to worry about skating on boot heels alone. He raced for her, grabbing her cloak and yanking her into his arms just as his skate caught on a rough patch of snowy ground and sent them both hurtling into the bank.

The crust of snow crunched beneath them, pillowing their fall and soft as a sigh. No hidden rocks or secret treacheries. Just snow. Still in his arms, Rook twisted to look at him, her hood thrown back askew and her tousled hair frosted all over in white.

“Emmrich—” she said, leaning over him to see if he was unharmed. But he was laughing breathlessly.

And then he was pulling her down into the snow and kissing her.

[microwaveabl]

See, this is EXACTLY why I love AP Research so much. Just as you (dulcidyne) said, high school essays are about summarization or, if they're an analysis, it's about like one MAYBE two sources, and half the time there isn't any kind of works cited because, well, obviously this essay is citing Hamlet, that's what this assignment is on.

And then you have AP Research. You kind of ease into it with the prerequisite, AP Seminar, but even then, it's again pretty much just regurgitation of information. AP Research, on the other hand, is about ACTUAL research - delving into the literature of your field, finding what has been done and what hasn't, and ADDING information to the field, finding a gap in the understanding and filling it. It really is the hardest AP, or really, just hardest class, on any given campus, because it's not about learning content and showing your knowledge on it like other courses, but to learn an entirely different kind of academic writing than you've ever had to do and do real research that could be published in an academic paper (with some polishing most likely), and maybe the hardest part for some people, you need to be MOTIVATED. Like dulcidyne said, they had no curiosity for teenage suicide in Japan, so even if they had stuck with that topic, it would've been much harder to actually get themself to do, but by changing topics when they retook the course, they had that motivation and interest in their topic.

Personally, I'm doing a content analysis on the world building of Homeland by R A Salvatore and enjoying the hell out of it, but that's beside the point.

Learning these skills at a young age is SO GODDAMN IMPORTANT, and while I don't think every student should have to take quite as rigorous a class as AP Research, the class was based off of a Pennsylvania (I think that's the state) school's senior graduation requirement for a reason. Students need to learn how to do real research, otherwise they'll flounder in the world of discovery and innovation that we live in

the single worst thing about the hbomberguy video is that some of the comments i'm seeing from internet randos suggest the twelve billion "plagiarism is bad" lectures i was forced to attend in university might actually have been necessary for some people

[shivunin]

Dragon Age Fic Recs

In honor of the Just Leave a Comment Fest, and with no particular theme, here are a few of my favorite Dragon Age Fics:

(If you wrote one of these fics and want me to tag your blog, please let me know and I'm happy to do so!)

**Always check the tags before jumping in; this list is no exception.**

Origins: 

be my mirror by ella_vellan: (T; 5,798) Alistair & Morrigan. Alistair meets Kieran for the first time in Orlais. The dialogue in this feels so well-paced and authentic, and it really navigates a fraught situation with grace. One of those fics that feels bittersweet in the most cathartic way. 

a gentle, beating heart by rynleaf: (M; 5,115 Words) Warden/Zevran. The Warden finds out she is pregnant sometime after Origins and puts off telling Zevran. The epistolary pieces of this frame the underlying story so well, and the flow of the fic itself is extremely well-paced.

A Man’s Word is His Bond by howlsmovinglibrary: (M; 35,135 Words/9 chapters) Zevran/Warden Soulmate AU. Honestly? This Surana cracks me up and I adore this fic. She is just having absolutely none of his nonsense. No thank you. Also, the implications of a soulmate-identifying mark are really well-explored here.

Dragon Age II:

see me bare my teeth for you by calypsid: (T; 2,978 Words) Fenris/Hawke vampire AU. This one has really good pacing and Fenris’s POV is really effective. Would absolutely read way more about the dynamic between this Hawke and Fenris. 

to hold you by the edges by vesperics: (T; 4,059 Words) Fenris/Hawke wound-tending set sometime in Act 1. I am a sucker for wound-tending anything, but I really enjoyed the way this fic explores Hawke and Fenris’s early dynamic and the way she navigates his boundaries about magical healing. 

River Stone by loquaciousquark: (M; 45,633 Words) Fenris/Hawke. Hawke is captured and subjected to a botched Rite of Tranquility. Hawke survives by pretending it worked while Fenris tries to find her. The pain in this fic is so delicately and thoughtfully depicted; it might be my favorite hurt/comfort fic ever. There is an art to writing something that hurts like this while still making the catharsis of resolution feel earned, and this author absolutely knows how to do it right. 

Inquisition: 

Portrait of a Man by Dulcidyne: (T; 3,136 Words) Cullen/Inquisitor. Cullen sits for a portrait. Love the dynamic of person vs. role here, and the idea of how someone is depicted potentially outliving who they actually are. A fic I would hug if I could. 

Truth-Telling by todisturbtheuniverse: (M; 3,988 Words; CW: Fantasy Racism) Adaar/Josephine. Adaar tells several stories about how she lost her horn, but saves the truth for Josie. There are so many great pieces in this about the faces shown to people we trust vs. people who pry for information. Love the almost-but-not-quite together state of their relationship here, too. Yearning, my beloved. 

Port in the Storm by kvella: (E; 89,445 Words/19 Chapters) After nearly hooking up, Cullen and Josephine navigate their tensions while trying to build a memorial for Haven. A lovely slow burn! Characterization is enjoyable and consistent, smut is well-written, and the tension is palpable. The sections involving Josie’s family were some of my favorites.

[dispatchwithlove]

WIP Whenever

Thanks for the tag @angry-jager! I've been a bit absent from tumblr for a while and this was a nice reason to jump back in 😊 I started poking at the next chapter of In Your Arms and I'm having so much fun giving these two the moment they've been yearning for. Here's a little snippet.

“I've been thinking about dancing with you all night,” Garrus said. The words came from him so easily, and she wasn’t sure if his confidence in telling her that while looking straight into her, or the fact that the words mattered so much to her, gave her the flush that was settling into her cheeks.   While she struggled to form the words that her heart felt, he shook his head. “No, not just all night. Since the last time we danced I’ve been thinking about how I could do better next time, if you ever wanted to give me another chance.” As if he hadn’t made that the most intimate, beautiful moment of her life. Until she ruined it, of course. The memory, her shame and her fear, caught her breath. “I messed up that moment, not you.” “How?” 

“By running from something that scared me.” There was a pause, time enough for him to process that, to read between the lines and understand what she was really saying. Not scared of dancing. Scared of her feelings for him. His hand tightened at her back.  “Hm, didn’t think there was anything that could scare you enough to make you run.” “Only the important things. The things that make life worth living.” Her teeth pinched her bottom lip, like her mouth was the party to blame for saying something that had been locked up tight for so long. She didn’t realize her heart was racing until his fingers brushed the back of her wrist just slightly. To calm her nerves. It worked. With her next step she slid closer to him, until her body finally pressed against his. A soft hum fell from him.  “Well, we’re dancing again,” he said. “That’s what matters. And it’s even better this time.” “Yeah, I’m not running away.” “There’s that. Also, I’m partial to my own culture’s style of dancing.” His thumb brushed her wrist, pressed into her pulse, as if she needed reminding that he could feel every single beat of her heart. “Do you like it?” She would have felt embarrassed by her bashful smile, but his mandibles fluttered. God, how was this happening? They were flirting, weren’t they? Openly flirting.  “I like it.” The words rode from her mouth on a warm breath. It was all she could say, because the heat in his eyes was blazing and her succinct thoughts were fleeting.

I hope to post this chapter in a few weeks. Please send good writing vibes!

I'll tag @otemporanerys @dulcidyne @serendipitys-teapot @diaphanouso @kalliesa @dwarrowdams @westernlarch along with whoever else would like to post something they're working on, and be sure to tag me so I can read what you post!

[misseffect]

Make me write!

Tagged by @diaphanouso and @angry-jager - thank you 💕

Rules: Make a 24-hour poll with the names of your WIPs and then for whichever wins, write one sentence for every vote it gets.

I don't have multiple WIPs so I'll offer a choice of scenes from the next Flashpoints installment!

Tagging @kesla @dulcidyne and @dovahbeeotch - can't remember who's been tagged already, sorry if I got you twice!

[lilmissnatcat24]

WIP Wednesday

why thank you for the tag m'love @milkywayes!!! ya girl has been writing like a bandit lately so please enjoy a bit of the snippet i wrote yesterday (spoilers for turn left)

It was oddly peaceful, dying. There was the whole pain part and the whole paralyzed part and the whole I’m-so-scared-I-can’t-tell-if-it’s-blood-or-piss part, but when you factor all of that out, there was a sort of melancholy peace to finally being able to die. It was like the bittersweet end to a vid or a book where you can’t tell if they were happy tears or sad. Tears were just tears, and no matter their purpose they were still being shed. And Shepard was strangely okay with dying. That was, if she didn’t think too hard about Garrus or Elyria or the impending end to the galaxy that only she could stop or Liara or Garrus or Wrex or Garrus or Anderson or Garrus fucking Vakarian and those lips she never realized she wanted to kiss so badly until right now--  She shut her eyes. It was about the only part of her body that she had control over. That, or she stopped trying entirely. And she waited to drift off into what she imagined to be an eternal sleep, one where she wouldn’t have to wake up for anything, one where she could finally be at peace for once in her goddamned life.  She heard some sort of crashing sound. She didn’t care. Remember, her eyes were closed. She wasn’t going to open them, not for anything, even if that clawing sensation had gone away--  “Shepard!” Her eyes flung open at Garrus’s voice, pleading and rough and urgent. The feeling was starting to flood back in her body as she craned her neck towards him. He had kicked her door off its hinges, rifle in hand, his eyes wider than coins as he mowed down those zombie creatures like they were nothing. The loud bursts from the barrel of his rifle set her teeth on edge. She groaned as she tried to raise a hand-- to do what? Fight? Shoot? Hold his hand in hers? She didn’t know, but now that the feeling was flooding back, she had to try.  “G- G--” she attempted to speak, but her jaw was still welded shut.  The way Garrus fought was almost a dance. He was impossibly light on his feet for being seven foot tall and had an extra three hundred pounds on her. When a zombie got close, he would smash the butt of his rifle onto their head as they collapsed at his feet. He was so quick with reloading that she barely even saw him reach for more heat sinks. And he did it all while barely taking his eyes off of her.  She flexed her toes, she slowly dug her palms into the bed to hoist herself up further. “What--?”  The last zombie went down with a spectacular screech. Garrus was at his knees next to her so fast she swore he just teleported. His hands roamed up and down her body, searching for the wounds and slash marks that he would have to fix up, his mandibles plastered to his face in concern.  “Del, what the hell happened?” Garrus asked, a tone of worry that Shepard didn’t know he possessed. Gone was all of the anger she felt towards him for lying, gone was the betrayal. There was no one she would rather be at her side than Garrus Vakarian. She buried her head into the groove between his shoulder and carapace. She could feel his subvocals vibrating in his chest. He seemed to freeze for a moment, before a hand settled in her hair, petting it down soothingly. “There, there. You’re okay. I’m here.”

uhhhh i never know who to tag so please ignore this if you don't want to do it but here ya go!!!! @otemporanerys @dulcidyne @diaphanouso @dispatchwithlove @teamdilf @vakariansvixen

[iheartgarrus]

Make Me Write!

Tagged by @kalliesa, @that-wildwolf, and @nicolasadrabbles (and unofficially @otemporanerys)!

Rules: Make a 24-hour poll with the names of your WIPs and then for whichever wins, write one sentence for every vote it gets.

I don't know who has/hasn't been tagged but I'll go with: @dulcidyne, @dwarrowdams, and @teamdilf!

[dwarrowdams]

Five Things You Might Find In My Writing

Was tagged by the exceptionally talented @dulcidyne! I'm tagging @camelliagwerm, @transboywriting, @aeriamamaduck, (no pressure for any of y'all though) and anyone else who sees this and wants to answer!

1 - Queer and Disabled/Neurodiverse Characters Being Happy

Maybe this is cheating because I'm lumping two things together, but the reasoning is the same: I wanted to see people like me doing cool shit and falling in love (or not) and just generally being happy.

2 - Parent Trauma

Sometimes the parents are dead, sometimes the parents are abusive, sometimes the parents are both, but I rarely write a story where a character has two (or more) living parents and a healthy relationship with both of them. It's often a way for me to process my own parent trauma.

3 - Found Family

Your birth parents suck, are dead, or suck and are dead? No worries, you're getting a bunch of new family members, even if you try to be emotionally distant! If you're the weird ADHD/autistic kid that didn't have friends because you were weird, guess what?! That's right, not only do you have friends, you have friends who are like a family who love you for your "weird" neurodivergent traits!

4 - Sex Scenes as Integral Plot/Character Moments

I love writing sex scenes because I think they're hot (and because it can be a fun challenge), but when writing fic (or original stuff), I try to include ones that move the plot along or show some sort of character development in addition to just being hot. As someone who writes pretty high-heat stuff, it also helps (I hope) to keep things from feeling too repetitive. Yes, they just had sex in the last chapter, but the circumstances were totally different and the scenes do different things in terms of the characters and narrative!

5 - Snappy Dialogue

Dialogue is something I worked really hard to be good at, and I put a lot of thought into character voice. It's the thing that comes most naturally to me, and is always the part of writing I have the easiest time with.

[ninanirina]

Year-end Writer’s Round-Up: the 2020 edition

Thank you, @anavakarian for the tag!! 

Word Count for 2020 [Published and unpublished in English only] 50.464

Which is lame but holy hell, this is the first year I ever try and dip my toes in this language so you know what, I am proud of that small number :’D

New things I tried this year

I tried writing in English. I tried publishing fanfiction again after around...six to seven years of not doing such thing. I tried writing E rated stuff! I tried writing about my OCs (even if I did not post it). I tried everything my teenage self wanted to try long ago but didn’t because it was considered cringe back then. And guess what? I enjoyed every single thing I did. I barely post my stuff, but I am hoping this year I’ll stop shying away from the writing community!

Fic I spent the most time on

A yet-to-be published fic named Revenant, for the ME:A fandom, revolving around Sara Ryder (and Evfra, who am I kidding, they are my otp rn). I spend SO MUCH time reading and re-reading every sentence I write because I want it to be spotless and it’s driving me insane :’)

Fic I spent the least time on

Skyrocketing, because I wrote it in ONE sitting just like that, and it’s funny because it seems to be the most liked one amongst the published ones.

Favourite thing I wrote

Has to be this snippet from a project I would like to write for Genuary (Gen - January). Maybe because it’s the one in which I explore more personal matters through an OC? 

Favourite thing I read

OH BOY. You mean my whole AO3 Bookmark page? Special mentions:

The whole Evfra/Sara series from @anavakarian. Particularly As cold as Voeld!

The Angaran Expansion Project by @myrddinderwydd is !! amazing !!

Experiments in Diplomacy by @dulcidyne has my tears and absolute love!

Flowers of Havarl by @wickedwitchofthewilds bc I fell in love with her OC!

And outside fanfiction, so much lationamerican poetry and magic realism. In particular, El Martín Fierro (José Hernández) and Como agua para chocolate (Laura Esquivel).

Writing goals for next year

I want to keep motivated writing; I don’t care if I publish or not, I just want the joy of stacking one word after the other and see the little pile of work I’ve done and feel proud. 

I want to improve in the languages that aren’t my own, see how far I can keep pushing myself. But I also want to keep exploring on my original works and poetry (and scripts). 

And I want to finish Revenant once and for all instead of re-editing the same three paragraphs over and over :’D

[dulcidyne]

Fic authors self rec!

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

Thank you so much the the ask! <3 <3 <3

1. On the Care and Grooming of Gentleman Necromancers. Emmrich x Rook. Maybe because it's recent, but I really loved writing this fic! It ended up really lush and intimate with the straight-razor shaving scene and I got to go into some of my feelings about what it means to me to do the work that I do. The line I gave Rook about not knowing how to see someone as a stranger when her hands were the last to touch their face is maybe...I don't know, it was something I was never able to articulate until that moment and it felt really special.

2. Big, Dramatic Love Confession. Garrus x Shep. This was the first smut fic I'd ever written and somehow the physical interplay ended up being a proxy for their philosophies about facing overwhelming odds, with Garrus's pessimism over (not) saying 'I love you' being the weirdly hopeful stance. I feel like I've been chasing the high of it ever since. I also just like their banter in it.

3. Experiments in Diplomacy. Jaal x Ryder. This fic was my grad school baby and boy does the imposter syndrome show. I finished it during COVID during my first year at Stanford and it just has so much catharsis jammed into it. It still feels special to read.

4. Portrait of a Man. Cullen x Inquisitor. Cullen on a horse! Also, just legacy and how to navigate the dissonance between reality and external perception. I still really love this fic.

5. Ghost in the Machines. Garrus x Shep. Control Ending. I got to explore so many cool sci-fi concepts with this and fully nerd out over physics and theoretical biology. And imo, there's nothing better for someone who experienced a major crisis of faith and subsequent massive shift in world view to write a character becoming a God and still messing everything up. I'm still determined to finish it. I am so. damn. close. I just needed a breather because I was delving into a rough low point for Shep and with the irl world being uhhh the worst. So I had to take a breather. Garrus and Shep will forever be my OTP, they are phenomenal.

[angstmongertina]

Fic Writer’s Week

So apparently it’s Fic Writer’s Week on tumblr? I don’t really know much about it but the lovely @riajade01 tagged me in a thing so I figure I should take a moment to reach out to everyone with words of thanks.

First, even though I don’t read much fic anymore (my fault for jumping around fandoms too much and diving into too many games), there are quite a few writers I need to mention as being inspirational, thoughtful, kind, funny, and all around amazing people and friends. So @inquisitorhotpants, obviously, along with @dragons-bones, @trulycertain, @aphreal42, @dulcidyne, and @riajade01 (right back at you), as well as everyone else I’m forgetting because I KNOW there are plenty more... Thank you. Thank you for keeping me up late and making me laugh or cry or squee like the fangirl I am. Thank you for keeping me going when things get rough, and for brightening my day every time you update. As a fellow fic writer, I know how goddamn hard it can be to keep going, especially when you don’t get comments (and I know I need to get better at that), so thank you for sharing your talent and ideas and making fandom so better for your presence. <3

And a fic writer, I believe I have some wonderful people whom I somehow tricked into reading and liking my stuff. Every comment I receive always makes my day, but especially thank you to @ayinvui who basically reviewed every single ficlet for Inktober this year, and @thepictonianjournalist, who has left lovely comments on both AO3 and tumblr. Also to those mentioned above and all of my tumblr friends for supporting me through thick and thin in writing and otherwise.

Basically, massive hearts to everyone. I love you all, and happy fic writer’s week! <3

[shivunin]

hello!!!!! for the fic questions: 1, 30, 41, and 42!! because i'm greedy hehe

Well I am greedy to answer questions, so this works out perfectly 💗 Thank you, Zen!

(Zen, this turned out so long sdkfjbkasbkf)

(Fic Writer Questions)

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

Oooh, either As Two Reflected Stars or To the Bone. I think they both have a word count that isn't too intimidating and between them they contain most of the recurring tropes I tap into a lot. Also, so much pining. Who doesn't love pining?

(But if someone was asking and they really like pain/angst, I will point you toward Wander the Drifting Roads and be here with tea and a blanket when you're done)

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?

Actually, it's not fic-related, but when I was in college I had an assignment to write a braided narrative (nonfiction) and it was sooooo hard. I had no idea what I was doing. But in conference with my professor afterward, we walked through each "strand" of the writing separately and then together and it really changed the way I think about linear narrative.

I mean, obviously (you've read my work haha) it's one of my favorite things to do now. It's most easily seen in Wander, but the Mass Effect piece I'm writing now utilizes this idea to some extent. I like the idea of the future and the past and memory existing simultaneously and separately at once. Especially when the plot is about memory to some extent (and, really, most of them are for me haha)

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

Oooh here's some that used really cool mechanics/techniques that I like (and, Zen, I mean this genuinely, not because it's you asking, so I'm gonna pretend you didn't write it while I talk about yours):

What to Do by Undomiel_Writes: This fic uses such a cool way of keeping time in the story and I love it. It's Garrus by Shepard's bedside and he's trying to keep busy, so there's this really cool reiteration of all the little tasks he gives himself and it is just. So so neat.

Scar Tissue by zenstrike: I am a sucker for the divide between someone's words and what they mean/think, and this fic has it in spades. I really like following Garrus's thoughts so closely, and the way dialogue is present/not present at the same time (because it kind of complements the sense that everything is only sort of happening to him/his thoughts and actions being sort of blurred). It's just! Really clever and it makes me think differently about the rhythm of speech and thought.

I couldn't pick just one by them, but Under Thorns and River Stone by loquaciousquark: The first because it made me rethink how an AU could work/how all the parts of canon could be reshaped into a different world (and also, I like. love the fairytale this is a retelling of). The second because when I first started writing fic, one of the reasons I did so was to learn how to write action sequences/fight scenes and the one at the beginning of this fic is so good (they all are, really). Also, I finished this fic and started it over again immediately, and when I was done reading it the second time, I thought man, I want to write something that somebody sobs over and them immediately hits the chapter one button again.

Experiments in Diplomacy by Dulcidyne: I really really enjoy the way the author fuses emotion and science in this fic; it is just so heartfelt and well-done and it made me think about how I could incorporate the things I love into my own writing.

A Man's Word is His Bond by howlsmovinglibrary: I adore the Surana in this fic and the character work with her is just. so delightful. Her personality comes across so strongly and consistently that when I first read this, it was absolutely something I wanted to achieve myself.

Oh shoot it said a fic. As in one. I meant to only do two, but I waded into my bookmarks and here we are. Sorry D: I'm gonna leave all this here anyway!

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

Yeah!! Honestly, all of the really specific and heartfelt ones stick with me. I think about them when I use the same sort of trope or technique again, especially if the comment itself was agonized. But here are a couple specific ones (and I don't want to embarrass anyone by pointing them out specifically, but if you wrote one of these and want me to I will tag you lol).

I was genuinely thinking about deleting Wander and starting over roughly three weeks after I posted it (I was never 100% happy with the ending) and literally the night I was driving home and mulling the pros and cons of doing just that, I received a comment on the final chapter that said, among other things, "I don't have the words to describe it. Raw? Real? As if you had torn out my heart and repeatedly squeezed it in front of my face. I don't know I wish I had a better vocabulary for what I want to besides that I am really hurt, I am haunted by the pain, and I thank you for it." It was just...so well-timed and so genuine that it completely changed the way I thought about the story and my writing as a whole and also....made me want to participate in the fandom in general.

The review that described Maria as a "radiant menace" and I loved it so much I had to change my blog title

The first comment I ever got (on Your Fate) complimenting my taste in music <3

Every time someone comments on a new fic like "go ahead, fuck me up, I'm ready," hahaa it makes me feel so seen and trusted

"Your writing is so good I want to eat it like a bonbon" I think about this literally all the time. When I finish a good section, I think hmmm yes like a bonbon

Actually fuck it, I was reading through my AO3 inbox to try to find something and I am crying now and I love everybody and I'm so glad I started writing fic I can't think of anything else to say T.T

[slothquisitor]

Get to know the fanfic writer

Tagged by the lovely @dulcidyne - thank you!

When did you post your first-ever fanfic?

September of 2015, and I was *so* nervous.

First Character(s) you wrote?

It was Dragon Age, specifically Cullen x Lavellan. Assuming we're talking specifically about fic. If we're talking original work, I had literal notebooks of stories (mostly that I wrote my friends into) and we passed those around between classes in junior high. They wrote notes and reactions in the margins lol

Main Character(s) you're currently writing?

Just Astarion x Tav right now.

Character(s) you haven't written about before but plan to soon?

Most of the BG3 companions. There's not enough friendship fic out there. I also love Durge so much but like...I don't know that's a lot!

Fandom(s) you're currently writing?

Baldur's Gate is all. I assume I'll come back to Dragon Age at some point, but I'm also not forcing it. I write fanfic for fun, so I keep it no pressure over here.

Platonic Pairing(s) you're currently writing?

I plan to write some good post-campaign friendship pieces for Baldur's Gate, but gotta get there in the writing, you know?

Romantic Pairing(s) you're currently writing?

Astarion/Liv (my tav)

Your top AO3 tags?

Listen, my AO3 tags are a mess and half the time they're jokes. Probably angst though. Gotta find the balance somewhere lol

Current platform you use for posting?

AO3 and Tumblr. Although...gotta say I don't know how fic writing on Tumblr works these days. Some ya'll out here doing the MOST with like graphics and shit. I salute you.

Snippet of the WIP you are currently working on?

 Her parents’ praise was an elusive thing, something fought and squabbled over by her older siblings, torn to scraps so threadbare that there had never been any left over for her.

Tagging @fluffleforce-mysdrym (no pressure!) and anyone else who sees and might want to participate. I'm bad at Tumblr these days and knowing who is writing and who isn't.

[dispatchwithlove]

Make Me Write!

Thanks for the tag @otemporanerys!

Rules: Make a 24-hour poll with the names of your WIPs and then for whichever wins, write one sentence for every vote it gets.

I'll tag @kalliesa @serendipitys-teapot @kirschewine @dulcidyne @westernlarch @dwarrowdams @literarypeachtea @diaphanouso

[misseffect]

✨Last Line Game✨

Tagged by @otemporanerys - thank you!!

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you write and tag as many people as there are words(!?)

Saren is so pale he’s practically transparent: a shock of blonde hair, slicked back with sweat and flicking at the ends, and bright, broken-glass eyes.

I don't know that many people so: @iheartgarrus @diaphanouso @dispatchwithlove @kalliesa @dulcidyne @angry-jager @kesla @jusbeinkt

[reaping-cain]

2016 Writing Review

I got tagged by @mysdrym and although I don’t have a lot of writing done in my repertoire, I’ll take a stab at it. 

Total number of completed stories

13...I could’ve finished First Date but the final chapter is still a WIP. *sigh*

Total word count

I did a separate post that discusses my total word count for 2016. It’s 43,507.

Incomplete/WIP? 14,913

Putting the rest under the cut.

Fandoms written in

Dragon Age

Looking back, did you expect to write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected?

I expected to write more but seeing as this was my first year of writing and publishing, I’m not surprised that I under performed. It’s been a hectic year, balancing grade marking, moving out and all sorts of crazy life events. 

What’s your own favorite story of the year?

Considering that I only posted one story related to my darkverse au, I’m going to have to go with my Mountie!AU. Specifically the excerpt, Northbound, which establishes how the stoic mountie!Cullen met Kaeran. It was a cullavellan week prompt (soulmates au) and I had a wicked good time writing it. 

I actually showed it to a dear friend who has absolutely no clue about Dragon Age and she enjoyed it. I also get a kick out of writing Samson as a total asshole.

Did you take any writing risks this year?

The riskiest thing I did was hitting that post button in the first place. The last time I wrote something fandom related was over a decade ago. Mental.

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year?

Fanfic goals: advance enough through Single Fereldan Man Seeks Female Companion to start focusing more on my Mountie!AU. I’m still keeping my darkverse close to my chest for later. I’ve had that idea in my head since January 2015. I’m also planning on writing more consistently and being less picky with my words. It’s a tall order.

Profic goals: I’m actually working on an original story idea with my friend I mentioned before. It’s a horror story. She says that it’s very Stephen King. I have never read Stephen King. :O 

I have one other story but it’s more dark humour/supernatural themed. I’m also going to collaborate with the same friend. She has an interesting story as well so I think this means we’re co-author buddies. For now we’re working on the horror one and hoping to publish it once complete. We actually met up last week to discuss the main events and little details like era, mood and general structure of the narrative. I’m stoked because all that atmosphere writing is going to help me.  

Best story of the year?

I have a soft spot for Single Fereldan Man because it’s the first longfic that I invested myself in. It’s nowhere complete but I keep getting ideas and I’ve fleshed out both Kaeran and Cullen’s respective stories. I’m immensely proud of what I’ve come up with, especially in terms of how I integrated the side characters.  

Most popular story of the year?

Again, Single Fereldan Man takes it. Over 2k in hits, more kudos and comments than anything else I’ve posted on my ao3 account. 

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion:

It has to be First Date. I find that there aren’t enough romances out there that deal with two individuals who have known each other for years, went their separate ways only to be reunited and crossed that “what if?” threshold and go on a cute date. 

It’s not “I’ve had this huge crush on you for ages” but more of “I thought it was infatuation and that I’d get over it and I did but here you are and we’re having fun??” 

Most fun story to write:

A tough one, but definitely Teaser v Tease. I’m all about taking something predictable and putting it on its head. Plus it was refreshing to flirt with something sort of nsfw but that deals with boundaries in a fun way. 

Story with the single sexiest moment:

I think I write the opposite of sexy because I immediately follow it with something that ruins the moment. Appetitus Interrupit is definitely sexy. 

Most sweet story:

Going to go with the prompt Love in the Stitches. Kaeran knits Cullen a scarf and he blurts out his declaration of love but it’s muffled in the woolen behemoth. My heart got super fluttery when I wrote it. 

“Holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you!” story:

OK, Appetitus Interrupit has Kaeran on the phone with her mother while Cullen is going down on her. But then there’s also the shameful The Constable and the Dangerous Woman which reveals my thirst for men in uniforms, especially if they’re bright red and discussion of rules being broken. Also Cullen that’s not your office??? 

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters:

My mind is drawing a blank since usually I stick to what I have outlined. I think including Kaeran’s parents in Single Fereldan Man helped me develop Kaeran’s storyline further and it unexpectedly impacts Cullen.

Most unintentionally telling story:

Appetitus Interrupit. >_>

Hardest story to write:

Can’t I just say that writing is hard? No? I’ll go with darkverse since I’m still trying to figure out the middle and end. 

Biggest disappointment:

I’m disappointed that I haven’t finished First Date yet. It’s definitely something that I want to complete after I finish the latest chapter for SFMSFC. I also had hoped to have written more for Single Fereldan Man and perhaps started on the Mountie!AU. I definitely have excerpts written and I’m excited for it but I need to limit my priorities especially since I’m still technically in school. 

Also, I’m frustrated with how slow my prompt fills are going. I really need to discipline myself and focus on one thing at a time and see it through rather than spread myself thin. 

Biggest surprise:

I’m surprised that Single Fereldan Man is getting attention as well as it contributing to roughly a third of my total word count. I guess quite a few people also enjoy fake/pretend relationships that turn to genuine feelings. I’m still proud of my 43k words considering that it was my first year of writing. 

Another wonderful surprise is the number of writers I met here and how supportive and inspiring they are.  

Tagging @flowerbabytrevelyan, @junojjones, @dulcidyne, @cometeclipsewriting and anyone else who wishes to do this. Feel free to tag me if you do complete your own review. ^_^