#edit: just noticed the buggy text editor cut off the last section ough. fixed.

[ghostwise]

Self-Rec Tag Game 🌹

Rules: share five of your own fanworks (fic, art, etc.) Then, tag five more people to share the things they've made.

Tagged by @palipunk and @isayashai thank you sm ;v; 💞 I will tag @s1ithers @coldshrugs @arcann @vlwv @ruushes if you like!

Something you absolutely adore:

Four Little Crows off to Meet the Maker :: This is chapter 1 of my Antivan long-fic, Quinta de Talpa, and it sets up Zevran and Hamal's quest to oppose the Crows while also serving as a 'marriage proposal' fic. I think it's a punchy start to a really long project, and I adore it! It motivates me to continue. :)

The door to their room opened before he could knock, and Hamal looked at him, brow furrowed, eyes heavy with lack of sleep. In one quick sweep, he took in the blood-stained clothes. Zevran shook his head. He pushed his way in.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I may have… underestimated things.”

2. Something that was challenging to create:

For Suffering is Such a Part :: AO3 :: This is the first long-fic I finished, and it took me years to complete. I found it incredibly daunting to work on anything longer than 1k, but I was deeply attached to the story and couldn't get it out of my head; I dedicated myself to completing it for several months after picking up an old draft. It's set during the Nature of the Beast quest in Origins. I uh still think about it a lot o_ o;

“My! Aren’t you a poet!” Zevran exclaimed, laughing into his wrist. “Am I just a hunk of meat to you?” Grinning broadly at him now, Hamal settled down on one knee, amid beams of sunlight. “Vhenan, to me you are the spring thaw, and all that comes with it.” Zevran looked at him. He blushed to the tips of his ears. He would definitely have to think of sweet things to tell Hamal in revenge—but he was far more poetic in Antivan, and had been caught off guard, so for now he acquiesced. “The things you say,” he told him softly. “Fine, you win. I’m a spring thaw.”

3. Something that makes you laugh (or smile, if that fits more comfortably):

The Reading Stone :: AO3 :: I love writing silly banter, but I often worry it goes too corny. I fear making anything too tonally dissonant. With this one I just had fun with it, and wrote some ensemble goofiness in Orzammar. :)

“And as I said, there is no need,” Hamal retorts. “You all sound like Ashalle. I can get by just fine without glasses.”

“Not if we go by all those bruises you’ve collected, walking into corners,” Alistair tuts. “How do you manage in a fight?”

“An enemy is just a big shape. I simply hit it until it stops moving!”

“Maker…”

4. Something that surprised you (in how it turned out, how much other people liked it, etc.):

All That Matters is That You've Kept on Living :: AO3 :: This was a sweet short piece between Zevran and Isabela. But it felt unpolished and I almost didn't post it! The response was very positive, I was happily surprised. I still feel I can expand on it. Maybe one day. :)They deserve so much love, two of my favorite characters.

Yanking her legs back she tucks them beneath herself and tackles him with a hug, affectionate but very much exasperated.

“You talk about your husband too much, Zevran! No one will ever want to sleep with you!”

Zevran draws in a sharp breath, then he collapses into laughter.

5. Something you want other people to see:

Not a Homecoming, But Something Like It :: AO3 :: Another fic set in Antiva. This one comes very close to being part of QDT, but ultimately it is able to stand alone. Adelmar is mentioned in FSISAP, too, but only through flashbacks. She's an important part of my extended worldstate, as she helps Zevran heal past traumas, and vice versa (she was a prostitute at the brothel he was born in).

“I’m so glad you’re doing well. So tell me,” she scoots closer and looks at him eagerly, “What sort of life did you have, after you were adopted?”

“Adopted?”

By the kitchen counter, Hamal catches the subtle edge in Zevran’s tone. He pauses, holding the knife in his hand as a lull falls over the kitchen table, but he doesn’t know enough Antivan to guess what’s happened.

What’s happened is this: Zevran and Adelmar came from the same place, and know enough about that life to instantly understand that a lie has been told.

“Oh,” Adelmar breathes after a moment. “You… you weren’t adopted.”

Zevran lets out a laugh. It’s his ‘stalling’ laugh, and now Hamal is looking over, arms crossed, searching his face for clues.

“I was not adopted,” he says.