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?)
I'm going to separate this out by my major fandoms and also intentionally pick fics that are 5k or less because I feel like that works better for an introduction than "here read my 240k opus." (That said you are also more than welcome to start with my 240k opus. 😜)
For Dragon Age: Looking Forward, a FenHawke fic set post-Inquisition.
For Fallout: This is a tough one but I'll say God Bless, a short Juliebeth and Freeside fic through the eyes of Bill Ronte.
For Red vs. Blue: Relative Peace is the first in my main Kimbalina series and probably a good intro to my Carolina fics generally.
And a bonus I guess, though I haven't written a lot for the Penumbra Podcast: After You, a Jupeter fic set at the end of season 1.
3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?
If it's a fic over 10k and somebody (usually a woman) isn't screaming, crying, or having a panic attack at some point, did I really write it? 😛 I like writing emotional outbursts/meltdowns and these have become something of a staple in my longfics.
26. Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that was only dialogue?
I'm pretty sure I've written both!
As much as I adore writing dialogue (character voices are one of my favorite aspects of writing), I actually feel like the grounding details of setting, movement, gesture and expression are really important to me, and it feels incomplete without them. So I'm more likely in the end to write something silent and introspective than pure dialogue. There are exceptions though! I've written fic in the form of a "transcript" which is all dialogue with some minimal "stage direction" type indicators, and that's also fun in its own way.
37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it?
I don't know about underrated, as I don't tend to think of my fics in those terms. But in addition to fics for Dragon Age I sometimes write poems or songs! Fear Not is a Chasind lullaby I wrote for a specific fic (Gifts of the Hunt, Morrigan/F!Mahariel; Morrigan sings it to Kieran). This one actually has a melody and one day I will get around to recording it (Mr. Apocalypse works from home these days so it's harder for me to find a quiet time to record things) but I did post the lyrics as a standalone work.
Tell me about "Our God No Longer Rises To Our Defense"?
so, the trespasser part of the pavellan fic is No Victory Was Theirs To Claim. it follows dorian's POV of trespasser events up to yuo going thru the mirror and then what happens after
Our God No Longer Rises To Our Defense is solas's POV of what occurs between him and yuo after yuo passes thru the eluvian to confront him. i'm sort of dreading it becuz i don't want to write solas's POV lmao but i've resigned myself to the fact that it must be done. i do think it will be an interesting challenge tho
THE BOY I GET TO TALK ABOUT THE BOY (thank you for the ask!)
as an apology for taking a little while (and also for rambling) i'll add on a song that reminds me a lot of bull, specifically his stint in seheron: TOOL - Lateralus (aka the only TOOL song i know lmao)
How I feel about this character
bull is just a... fantastically nuanced character. and he's so fucking heartbreaking. he was twisted from a thoughtful, compassionate child, always ready to help, a tama's boy, to a hot-and-cold-blooded killer who (maybe literally) gets off on overpowering and dominating his enemies... but he never really lost ashkaari to hissrad. nor does he lose either to the iron bull, even after betraying the qun. he has ashkaari's kindness, hissrad's fury, and the iron bull's open-mindedness. he's just so multifaceted - he wars with himself and his ideology constantly, he struggles to do what's right despite how what he feels is right and what he "knows" is right often conflict. and if the dreadnought is sacrificed, he is facing his worst fear - madness, specifically the madness that lurks within the shadows of himself - for the people he loves and the family he’s made, knowing he might die for it.
he blames himself for so much, he's angry and he internalizes a lot of it because it's easier than turning blame towards the only way of life he's ever known, but he tries. so fucking hard. and GOD okay i have to stop i love him too much. he's adorable and funny and sweet and a tiny bit terrifying but also he's SO incredibly safe feeling. comfort character all the way.
All the people I ship romantically with this character
adoribull is definitely one of my top da ships - him and dorian just mirror each other so well, they have similar enough problems that they're able to sympathize while conflicting only a little bit (just enough for angst <3) and they compliment each other with their strengths - bull's patience, willingness to listen, and ability to see through emotional walls; dorian's passion, loyalty, and readiness to apologize; plus how deeply compassionate both of them are underneath all the blood and bluster. not to mention how they're both exploring a relationship like this for the first time... i love em.
other than that? i don't have any main ones - i'm more into how two characters interact with each other than romance itself - but iron lion/bullen is a guilty pleasure of mine.
My non-romantic OTP for this character
bull's interactions with sera and viv are both super fun and cute. him and krem (plus the rest of the chargers) are absolutely fantastic too - that sense of found family, that sense of mutual sacrifice and devotion and loyalty and how they're just a bunch of misfits, it's so good. but also, thinking about him and young gatt, or him and vasaad bonding with each other to survive the horrors of seheron, makes me soft. i really wanna write something about that sort of thing some day.
My unpopular opinion about this character
i'm bad at knowing when an opinion's unpopular so... this isn't so much of an unpopular opinion as it is just an observation i haven't seen anyone else make?
it seems really interesting how a lot of the traits and behaviors bull shows line up... surprisingly well with symptoms of ASPD? the ability to turn empathy on and off is the most notable one, but there’s a lot. plus, bull's deep fear of turning mad and hurting someone he loves because of what the qun's taught about tal-vashoth sounds relatable to what i've heard from many people with PD's (especially ASPD): that they often struggle with the idea that they're a violent monster because that's what society has taught them, even if they've never hurt anyone and don't want to.
i'm not saying bull necessarily has ASPD, most of these behaviors were taught to him as a teen/young adult - it’s just an interesting parallel. i’d be super interested to hear what someone who actually has ASPD thinks of it, since i don’t have any personal experience myself.
One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.
i wish that his personal quest didn't have us entirely choosing for him. it makes it feel less like the choice to sacrifice the dreadnought for the chargers is about bull seizing his own agency, and more like it's about how eager he is to be obedient to something (or someone) other than the qun. which... is fine! but that's not how the story frames it, so it feels very odd. also it’s fun to explore gender through bull since basically no matter what he does he’s gnc in both human and qunari society BUT that’s more something i look to fandom for than canon.
Hi, @blarrghe! Thank you for the ask, friend. My favorite pieces are almost all portraits, but here we go. I think almost all of these have been on this blog at some point or another. <3
Rana's Portrait. Her dress colors make me happy. Also, coming up with her charm bracelet charms was fun to do. It inspired me to start my own charm bracelet, actually <3
This commission for @marl-writes, which was the first thing I ever drew with my Wacom tablet. It was so exciting to FINALLY have brush stroke opacity, after a computer mouse. So nostalgia + cheekbone highlight = why he's here in the list. It also helps that Marlene chose an adorable model for his face claim. <3
I’d thought that I would’ve chosen a different piece here, but I really enjoyed painting Princess Turandot. My favorite part is the color palette, which is from a Liao dynasty tomb. In the opera, Turandot is called an 'ice princess,' so it's very common to see her in light blues, whites, and silvers. The corals and gold here warm her up, I feel, and make her more accessible/relatable. Painting her has led to some really fun experiments in digital watercolors, which I plan on sharing in the new year.
This portrait, from a portrait giveaway I ran a while back. This is @sollanastar’s beautiful Sollana Lavellan. I think she’s one of my most favorite portraits I’ve made, the skin shading was the most fun. <3
And last but not least: this frame. I translate operas into English for hire and write the captions/surtitles for the live shows. This frame was used for a production of La Bohème, which takes place in 1830s Paris. I used a real embroidery pattern from the 1820s to create it, so it emulated what the main character would have embroidered as a seamstress.
I came up with the missing cat meet cute with fenders in mind lol, so fenders for "I found your missing cat"! 😻
Sorry this took me a bit. This weekend was a bit of a rough one. I also turned this a bit on its head from what I’d originally intended to write. It’s a little sadder, but hopefully the sweet will make up for it?
Anders had been working a lot lately. He hadn’t really intended to be spending so much extra time at the clinic, but with this year’s flu outbreak being especially vicious, he couldn’t make himself leave. Not when people needed him there.
So when Justice insisted that he take a week—a week—off of work, he hardly knew what to do with himself. He got home, fed the cat, and passed out. He woke up after a blissfully long sleep and blinked in the half-light of the sunlight filtering through the blinds. He felt a momentary panic that he was supposed to be at work, but remembered that he was on break before he launched himself out of bed. Realizing that he could sleep in, Anders flopped back down, sighing as the tension in his shoulders released.
After several minutes of laying in bed, he heard the cat meow in the other room. Wait. Cat?! Anders sat up, brows furrowing. He blinked back sudden tears. He put down Pounce several weeks ago. He didn’t have a cat anymore. He must simply be hearing things. He collapsed back and flipped over to bury his face in his pillow. All the calm he’d been feeling from the restful sleep was gone now as he trembled and tried not to sob into his pillow.
He heard another meow, and stopped crying, holding his breath. As he pushed himself up from his pillow, the bed dipped. A grey shorthair sat down and regarded him.
“Excuse me?” Anders said, sniffling. “Who are you?”
The cat just stared at him.
“How did you get in?” Anders asked, confused, as if the cat would answer him. He reached a hand out cautiously, and the cat immediately pressed its head into his hand. “You’re very friendly. And well-fed.” He ran his hand down the cat’s back. “Your fur is soft too. You’re not a stray, are you?”
Concerned at having a strange cat in his apartment, Anders got up and wandered into the other room. Pounce’s food bowl still sat in the hall, and there was still some food in it.
“I’ve been putting out food before bed without realizing, haven’t I?” Anders mumbled, opening the bin next to the bowl. He still had plenty of cat food left. And the water bowl was full as well.
The cat followed him as Anders shuffled into the kitchen to find himself something to eat. Only when he opened the refrigerator, he found he was out of both milk and eggs.
Anders groaned and pulled his hair up out of his face. "I have to go out anyway," he said. "I'll check with the office to see if anyone has reported a missing cat. The only explanation he could think of was that the cat had followed him in after work, or come in when he stepped outside after getting home for some fresh air. He did that often enough.
The first thing he saw when he opened his front door was a sheet of paper, tacked up immediately opposite his door.
"Missing cat, belongs to the resident of Apt 113. Grey male." And there was a picture.
"Hey, that's him," Anders said. "He didn't go far." He glanced at the apartment next to his, number 113. He'd never met the person who lived there, but they were in luck. Their cat was just next door. He plucked the poster from the wall and shoved it in his back pocket. He’d contact his neighbor when he got back from the supermarket and had his morning coffee.
When Anders returned home, he was surprised to see another poster already tacked up on the wall across from his door. He juggled his groceries onto one arm and unlocked his apartment. As soon as he opened it, he saw another copy of the poster on the floor just inside.
“Alright, alright, I’m getting there,” he muttered. “Someone really wants their cat back.” Of course, if it had been his cat, Anders would have been knocking on all his neighbors’ doors, so he didn’t blame his neighbor for sliding posters under people’s doors, hoping to find their cat.
The cat in question seemed unbothered.
“I don’t understand why you aren’t trying to get home,” Anders said to the cat. He put his food away and pulled out his phone, dialing the number printed on the poster.
“Hello?” He said, as soon as the person picked up. “This is your neighbor. I found your missing cat.”
“I know.”
“I live right—wait, what?”
“I saw him in your window.” Anders’ brain was short-circuiting. His neighbor had a voice so casually sultry, it should be illegal. And he was looking in Anders’ apartment?
“Ah, I think he must have followed me in,” Anders said. “I only just realized he was here this morning.”
“It has been three days.”
“Maker…” Anders muttered. “I’m surprised you didn’t come knocking on my door. When...are you free to meet up now? I’m not sure if—what’s your cat’s name?”
“His name is Greypaw. I will come over.”
Anders smiled. This man’s voice was lovely. The call disconnected and Anders blinked at his phone. Wait, he hadn’t mentioned which apartment he lived in. He was about to redial the number when there was an insistent knock at his door.
Anders went to the door and opened it to be greeted by a handsome elf with piercing green eyes, his face framed with soft white hair.
“H-hello,” Anders stammered.
“May I come in?”
“Oh. Of course.” Anders stepped back, gesturing to allow the elf inside. “Ah, my name is Anders.”
“Fenris.” The elf went to crouch next to his cat, who was sitting comfortably on Anders’ kitchen rug. Fenris. Anders liked the name.
“Has he caused any trouble with your cat?” Fenris asked, turning to look back at Anders.
“My cat?”
“I have seen your cat at the window before,” Fenris said. “An orange cat, correct?”
“Ah. Pounce. I put him down a couple weeks ago…”
Fenris scooped Greypaw up in his arms and turned to Anders. The cat was surprisingly content to be flopped onto his back and cradled to the elf’s chest. Anders felt a tightness in his throat.
“I did not realize…”
Anders chuckled.
“You couldn’t have known,” he said.
Fenris came to stand beside him. Anders unconsciously reached to pet the cat as he looked into the man’s face. Greypaw leaned eagerly into Anders’ hand. Fenris’ expression was difficult to read.
“You miss your cat,” Fenris said.
“Pounce was very important to me.”
“Greypaw likes you.”
“He’s a beautiful cat.”
“He does not like people generally,” Fenris said. “This is why I thought that something must have happened to him.”
“I think I would have noticed if he was desperate to get out,” Anders offered, unsure why the man hadn’t already left. Fenris didn’t seem put off by the fact that Anders had held his cat captive for several days. “I work long hours, and I’ve been getting home late all week.”
“I noticed.”
“Should I be worried at how much you know about me?” Anders asked, grinning nervously.
“I take walks along the walking path behind our building several times a day sometimes,” Fenris said. “I think your cat liked to watch me. Sometimes I would come up to your window and talk to him.” Was Fenris...blushing? “He would put his paw over my hand.”
Anders felt his eyes starting to tear up, hearing Fenris talk so tenderly about Pounce.
“Would you like to come and visit Greypaw?” Fenris asked him. “I am home in the evenings, you would be welcome to come and see him after your shift.”
“A-are you sure? I get home late sometimes.”
“Yes, I know,” Fenris said. “I don’t mind.”
“Then...may I text you?”
“You have my number now,” Fenris said. “Please do. I would prefer to know who is knocking on my door.”
“Right. I apologize again for—”
“Greypaw seemed to know that you needed the company,” Fenris said, turning to the door. Anders could have sworn the cat was grinning back at him. “I shall speak to you soon, then.”
“Yeah.”
And the elf was gone. Anders still held his coffee in one hand. Had Fenris been...flirting with him? Or perhaps Anders had imagined the entire exchange. He pulled out his phone and added the most recent call as a contact. He then started a new message to “Fenris ♥” before he could change his mind.
Anders: I have tomorrow off work, are you free mornings?
Fenders prompt: a scene with an obvious, embarrassing misunderstanding.
Thank you for the prompt! It’s probably too late for this week’s @dadrunkwriting but the prompt fits so well to the last one. So this ficlet is a continuation from the other one, with Fenris the bounty hunter and Anders on the run.
At Sundown
Anders leans his head back, gently stroking over the back of whoever is leaning against him, softly snoring. He glances down, it's Milleria, who uses his chest as a pillow and drools onto his corset. It's hot this evening, he has taken off the silken shirt he usually wears, but it still feels too hot to move.
Someone clears their throat next to him and Anders flinches, knowing who it is. He's not afraid of Madame Claré but she can stare a grown man down until he cries, and she runs her establishment with tight control.
"Just a few minutes," he says quietly, brushing over Milleria's hair. "She's had a hard day, the baby is teething."
A bit of softness spreads on Madame Claré's face and she nods. "Fine, she can rest for now but get her back up on the hour." She turns and puts on a blinding smile as she glides back into the hall. She's greeted with roaring applause and men and women scramble for a place to watch her perform on the stage.
"How can you even sleep with all this noise?" Anders mumbles to himself and the sleeping Milleria. It's a busy night tonight at Madame Claré's. Several of the men and women stop by at his post, getting the little tins with special ointment from him as they pass by on their way out into the loud hall again.
As promised, Anders wakes Milleria when the clock strikes outside of the window and he gets up and stretches. The corset does wonders for his back, supporting him in ways he doesn't want to miss anymore.
"Anders." Madame Claré takes his arm, just as he is doing his round along the upper level, listening for signs of trouble behind the doors.
"Madame?"
"There's someone here to see you." She holds his arm in her usual iron grip and maneuvers him to the last room on the level.
"Oh, is this the special?" Anders asks, already drawing on his mana to prepare a spell.
"No, not the special. He asked specifically for you and just wants to talk. If he acts up, just put him in ice, Gella will deal with him then." She opens the door and shoves him into the room.
Anders turns around, but the door is already closed. "Eh."
He turns slowly, magic energy dancing across his hands. Someone stands in the middle of the room, wrapped in a dark cape with the hood drawn deeply into the face. He isn't lying on the bed, which is a good sign because Anders is not in the mood for horizontal dances tonight.
"So, Madame Claré said you wanted to talk."
A strange blue glow comes from under the hood and for a moment, before the man pushes the hood back, green elven eyes glow from the darkness.
Anders recognizes him, even before he can make out the white tattooed lines on his hands and chin. He lets the magic flow back into himself and lowers his hands. "Fenris?"
"Anders." His voice is deep and raspy as he pushes back his hood.
His voice shouldn't make Anders' heart skip a beat, but what can you do? Anders clears his throat and crosses his arms in front of his chest, pressing them against his nipples. He's not embarrassed about his lack of clothes, but the way Fenris stares at him, makes him feel more naked. "What are you doing here? I stayed away, like I promised. I heard you were near the border between Tevinter and Nevarra, so I went to Antiva. It's not my fault that you found me, I didn't look for you."
"You're right." Fenris' eyes roam over Anders' body, over his naked shoulders and chest, the corset, the tight red pants, and he seems to get stuck on his feet in their glittering sandals. "I was... I was looking for you."
"Why?"
Fenris' eyes rise up again, lingering on the spot where the corset curves inwards. "You work here?"
"Yeah, putting my knowledge and abilities to good use."
"I... I can pay you."
"Okay?"
Fenris opens his cape and takes out a rather heavy bag of coins.
Anders shakes his head and steps closer to Fenris. "You don't have to pay me, I mean, I owe you my mind and my freedom." He takes the lapels of the cape in his hands and pulls it open to look Fenris over. No obvious injuries as far as he can see, but maybe it's a more personal matter. His eyes drop to Fenris' crotch, which sports an obvious bulge. "Is that the problem?"
He looks up in Fenris' face, noting the pink blush that spread on his cheeks. He smiles warmly and goes to his knees. "There's no need to be embarrassed, let me see."
Fenris pulls at the laces of his trousers and pushes them down.
Anders takes a harsh breath, which is a mistake because all he gets is a lungful of Fenris' delicious scent. He is confronted with the most beautiful cock he has ever seen, half hard already. The lines of lyrium thankfully do not extend onto the silky-looking skin, but they swirl beautifully in a floral pattern around the base. He has to close his eyes for a moment to scrape his professionalism together.
"So, constant erection? Is that the problem?" He looks up to Fenris.
Fenris is beet red, his eyes wide, and the lyrium lines flicker on his skin. "No, I — aren't you — ?"
"What?"
Fenris rips his trousers back up and shoves himself back in. "I can't do this, not like this."
Anders sinks down on his heels and looks up to Fenris. "Not like — wait." Anders finally recognizes the expression on Fenris' face, the desire and hunger dancing in his eyes. "You thought I would suck your cock!"
Fenris wraps his cape around himself and turns to run to the door. Anders scrambles to get up on his feet and grabs Fenris' arm before he can reach the door. "I'm sorry. When I said that I work here, I meant as a doctor. I take care of the men and women who work here and sometimes they call me in to put a sleeping spell on a nasty customer and, fuck, I said I work here and of course you thought — " He throws his head back in an embarrassed laugh. "I'm not saying that I'm opposed to the occasional tangle in the sheets, but I'm not a prostitute."
Fenris turns and looks at Anders' body. "But... the corset..."
Anders lets go of Fenris' arm and looks down on himself. "I see, yes, understandable. The corset is just so good for my back, especially when I have to lean over all the time. I love wearing it."
Fenris' eyes go wide as he slowly looks up from Anders' waist to his face. "I have to go." He turns and runs out of the door, jumps over the bannister and is out through the front door, before Anders has taken in enough air to call after him.
"Fuck." Anders puts a hand on the doorframe to find his balance again. "Andraste's arse."
"You alright?" Milleria asks, coming out of the door next to his.
"Yes, no worries, he didn't want anything."
"How strange," she says, and waves into the room. "Bye, bye, darling."
"Strange is the right word," Anders says, more to himself. "I would have sucked his cock for free, damnit."
