anon period ended a few weeks ago for the Dragon Age Poly Exchange, and i'm finally getting around to sharing what exactly i got up to! my main work was Two of Your Finest Vints, a lovely kremdoribull fic! but i also had fun writing some treats. i had so much fun writing these!! and if you have time, check out the entire collection!
Two of Your Finest Vints - E, The Iron Bull/Krem/Dorian. Bull and Krem shared a platonic bond deeper than friendship. But when they met Dorian Pavus, they both realised they wanted him. Like sensible people, the only solution is to share.
Red Skies at Night - M, m!Hawke/Isabela/Merrill. After fighting a dragon, Hawke gets badly injured. Isabela takes her girlfriend Merrill to check in on her boyfriend. Also, t4t4t!!!
From Ferelden, With Love - G, f!Cousland/Nathaniel Howe/Anora. After all they've been through, they found their way back to each other. And despite it all, they still love.
Sharing is Caring - M, Zevran/m!Amell/Nathaniel Howe. Nathaniel simply wanted to inform Daylen's partner that he had been injured. He didn't expect Zevran's response. Epistolary fic.
Inspired by the new Dragon Age (which I have bought but not yet played) I've been re-reading my old DAI smut.
I started and then chickened out on writing Krembull. This was ten years ago! I thought that writing erotica about a trans man was, out of my lane, you know? But I wanted to. So badly. The allure was there, so strong but it was like I couldn't look at it, like a spectre in the corner of the room, and if I looked at it, it would pounce on me and devour my whole life.
But I felt guilt, too. Guilt that the concept of being trans (because of course I would put myself deep in the Krem perspective to write it) turned me on. If being trans was just some sort of fetish thing for me, then I couldn't actually BE trans, could I? I was just on some freak shit.
Looking back now, I want to take my nascent GQ self and shake them. "If being trans thrills you, turns you on, then maybe that's because YOU ARE TRANS!"
But, that younger self would reply, if I put my thoughts about what it means to be a trans guy out into the world, someone might tell me that those imaginings were wrong. And if I don't know myself, and someone else says those imaginings are wrong well... how could I possibly be trans? Better just not to know. Better not to look the spectre in the eye, better to keep my life from turning inside out. Ridiculous to let this teetering sense of self be knocked over by feeling horny about one fictional trans man.
Anyway, all this to say, I'm older and wiser now. If you have come to your transness through writing or reading erotica, that makes complete sense to me.
Almost ten years later though, I'm gonna go write Krem getting dicked down by Iron Bull, and whoever cums first has to polish the other's leathers.
Summary: Before the events of Inquisition, Krem is at once horrified and fascinated to overhear the goings-on from Bull's tent. Bull isn't exactly tactful about it.
Review: Not exactly krembullee, but not exactly not krembullee? I pretty much inhale everything Hank writes, and this one was no exception. They describe it as ‘a little porny oneshot’ and that about sums it up. Basically Bull has really loud sex and Krem is turned on.
What I love about this is the way Hank writes Krem thinking about his body and his own pleasure - it’s really body-positive and it just leaves me with a lot of feelings.
A snippet:
Bull let Krem begin about eight different words without managing to turn a single one into a sentence, before he rescued the young man, still with an uncharacteristic levelness for him. “I’ve slept with all sorts. Men, women, aqun-athlok and not. It doesn’t have to be a source of heartache, you know.” He stared into the fire like he hadn’t a care in Thedas as he spoke.
“I- what?” Krem resisted the urge to put his face in his hands. One, they were covered in sword oil, and two, that was the opposite of keeping his cool.
“What you’ve got between your legs. Doesn’t have to be all pain and torture.” Bull grinned to himself, as though thinking a secret thought, just for him.
I found you through that Krem/bull fic you wrote on ao3 because WOW. I got emotional. Thank you, seriously, I had to make my girlfriend read it because the way you wrote the experience... Wow. Any plans to write more?
Oooh my gOD oh my god OH MY GOD.(shameless self promotion, the fic is here)
Thank you so much for taking the time to write to me! It totally made my day.The fact that you shared it onwards… eee! It makes me so happy. I’m so glad that little piece is still getting hits and likes and funneling people to this my tumblr.
I do want to write more KremBullee, though it’s been on the back burner for awhile. All these messages of encouragement (heh!) have been so nice and hopefully when I get back from Byron (in a week or so) I will bump it up the to-do list.Aaahhh sorry for rambling and thank you again.
A passage from A Little Encouragement for the Commentary Meme, asked by thecryoftheseagulls.
Krem never really bothered with the binder under the plate mail. Between the solid front of the ironically named breast plate, and the fact he didn’t have that much of a chest anyway these days, he didn’t need it. Perhaps that was why he liked his life as a soldier and now a mercenary so much. Some days it felt like the armour fit better than his skin did. He unbuckled the breast plate and added it to the pile.
Bull’s words were ringing in his ears as he reached his underclothes, and Krem slowed his rapid disrobing to take a moment just to breathe.
Krem would be lying if he said there wasn’t a throb between his legs, a heaviness that demanded to be lifted, to be touched. He was aqun-athlok (if there was a word for it Tevene he’d never learnt it) not dumb, and though Bull’s question had caught him off guard, he knew his own body.
Doesn’t have to be a source of heartache, he thought to himself grimly. Well, perhaps there was some merit to that thought after all.
Note from The Gull - I’m going to pick on one of the ones I know was a bit harder for you to write, cause I’m mean/curious like that. ;)
You saucy minx :-P. Oh man the Krem piece. Oh man. Loyal followers were present for my agonising over whether or not it was a misstep for me, as a cis woman, to write porn about a trans man. I finally decided that it was better to try and fail than not try at all, especially since there is very little NSFW dealing with Krem at all, which seems unfair.
The top paragraph borrows heavily from the Cole banter regarding Krem's transition. "The armour fits but the body doesn't," and how Krem had probably already reflected upon that fact.
I took the advice of the Krem tag and tried really hard to avoid writing him as an overly Sad Trans Cliche. I really wanted to stress that he was, at the end of the day, happy with his body. In conversation with Krem, he vehemently refutes the idea of using magic to change himself, so he MUST have a measure of peace with it.
I wanted to write Krem as kinda inexperienced with a massive crush on Bull because that's a fun trope ngl.
The other thoughts that went through my head in this piece were something along the lines of OH goD is that a gendered term how do I refer to Krem's genitals in a way he would be ok with some trans guys are cool with words like clit and some aren't and KREM ISn'T REAL so I CAN'T ASK HIM and GOD i hope I'm not fucking this up too badly YEEEEESH
Pre-game, pre-relationship
Part One Is Here! Please see the end for more notes.
***
In the safety of his tent, Krem went to work on the buckles of his armour, mind rattling. Pauldrons and gauntlets went into the corner, unbuckling his belt and letting the chain pool on the ground.
Krem never really bothered with the binder under the plate mail. Between the solid front of the ironically named breast plate, and the fact he didn’t have that much of a chest anyway these days, he didn’t need it. Perhaps that was why he liked his life as a soldier and now a mercenary so much. Some days it felt like the armour fit better than his skin did. He unbuckled the breast plate and added it to the pile.
Bull’s words were ringing in his ears as he reached his underclothes, and Krem slowed his rapid disrobing to take a moment just to breathe.
Krem would be lying if he said there wasn't a throb between his legs, a heaviness that demanded to be lifted, to be touched. He was aqun-athlok (if there was a word for it Tevene he’d never learnt it) not dumb, and though Bull’s question had caught him off guard, he knew his own body.
Doesn’t have to be a source of heartache, he thought to himself grimly. Well, perhaps there was some merit to that thought after all.
Ache or no, there were things to be taken care of first. Sword went by the bedroll, boots by the door. If Iron Bull called out, he could be armed and out the door in seconds. It was an old habit, solid training. At least with the Chargers he didn’t have to worry about concealing his chest before answering the call of a soldier on watch.
With an irritated grumble, he dropped to his knees and slid into his bedroll. Curled up on his side, he pressed a hand between his legs, against his cunt, still over his pants, breath catching.
He was being stupid about this. And stubborn. He was quite sure if he went to Bull, the qunari would fuck him. Or do… whatever Krem wanted, really. He wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted.
But he’s my commander, a small part of his brain offered as an excuse, hand still firm against his cunt, squeezing his thighs tight over his fingers. The more rational part of him was already scoffing. Just because he’d spent years in the Imperium’s forces, didn't mean the rest of the Chargers had, and they were as far from a traditional military unit as you could get. There weren't exactly fraternization rules in place.
Krem was pretty sure Stitches had taken advantage of Bull’s open tent policy on more than one occasion, not to mention Skinner and Dalish shared a tent these days. It was easy to see that regardless of what games the Chargers played in bed, it didn't compromise anyone's position in the field.
He rolled onto his back, and slipped his seeking hand inside his smalls. Maker, he was wet, and slick, and he bit his cheek to stop him from crying out, spreading the slick from his centre around, exploring and teasing. If Krem could hear the not-so-subtle noises of a romp from Bull’s tent through the canvas walls, the reverse would be true too, he told himself sharply.
So he willed his breath to silence, as he cast his mind back to earlier, the sounds of Bull fucking the woman from the tavern, the base slapping sounds of flesh on flesh, the wet rhythm of it. Krem’s mind helpfully filled in the blanks. What would it feel like to have those hands on him, instead of her? He flushed and felt his stomach clench in arousal at the thought.
He pressed firm, slick fingers to the apex of his slit, and whimpered as the sensation shot straight to the base of his skull
He was being stupid about this, making excuses, again, using fear to stop himself from taking something that would be so easy, so simple. This wasn't Tevinter. He didn't have to hide. And what did he have to hide from Bull? Nothing.
But… commander, said that pathetic dissenting voice, the well-trained soldier who would never think to proposition a commanding officer. As he felt himself pulse with lust at the thought, he came to another realization. Perhaps the whole chief thing was part of the appeal.
He was too hot in his clothes, under his bedroll. He kicked the blankets down, shuffled out of his breeches, field readiness be damned. Bull could handle any assailants for the few minutes more that it would take Krem to get his pants back on. He let his thighs fall open, air just chilled enough to be a shock against his hot skin, and he could smell his own arousal. He was hot and ashamed and nervy about how much that turned him on.
Perhaps it was the commander thing, the fact that Bull had all but offered his guidance, in his infuriating way. Perhaps it was the way that without even asking, Krem knew he could give himself up to Bull’s hands, to Bull’s experience, to Bull’s cock, and the qunari would know what to do in a way that Krem did not, had never…
He rubbed a tight circle over those singing nerves, and dipped his fingers lower as he thought about it, two fingers sliding inside himself easily, pressing his other hand over his mouth and his head hard into the ground as he curled those fingers inside.
Maker, but apparently listening to those two had turned him on.
He sobbed, barely catching the noise this time as he fucked himself on his fingers, rutting ever so slightly against his hand, other hand dropping from his mouth to his slit to keep rubbing those tight, slick circles. He was going to draw blood from biting his cheek this hard as the sensation swelled, cheekbones to toes buzzing, hot and insistent.
Doesn’t have to be a source of heartache, Bull’s voice rumbled and fuck Krem knew that, didn’t need to be told but it was so damn good to hear, to have permission like that from someone whom he trusted, who knew him. Krem could trust Bull with his life, from the beginning. He knew, when he wasn't being fearful and making excuses, that he could trust him with so much more.
He added a third finger, angle awkward as the wet thrust of his fingers became more frantic, but he didn’t care, couldn't think straight. How could anything that felt like this be a heartache? It was his body and he loved it, loved that it could make him feel like this.
He thought of Bull’s hands, the rich potential of being under Bull’s command in more ways than one.
Cremisius Aclassi you are being so fucking stupid about this, all you've got to do is ask. The thought briefly rang clear as a bell. As the waves of pleasure crested and broke he thought of his trusted friend, his chief, the beast of a man whispering come for me, Krem and that he did, sobbing through his bitten lip.
He splayed out his limbs, breathing hard, thinking that now would be a really excellent time for someone to ambush their campsite. Hopefully the others would be ready to handle it, because he needed a moment or twenty.
Out by the fire, the Iron Bull leant on the head of his axe and smirked with something that was almost like pride.
***
Notes: I hope it's clear from the text that Bull isn't like, creepily grooming Krem or anything. That's totally not where I'm going with this. More than Bull just genuinely thinks everyone should get to have and enjoy sex and wants to help in any way if Krem still has hang ups about it.
Also, I'm a cis woman. I really hope I'm not fucking up by stretching my writing smut to a trans man. If you have thoughts I'd really love to hear them.
