demawrites

[demawrites]

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[demawrites]

Join our Mod Team!

Last year's Big Bang far exceeded our expectations, and we are so proud of all our participants and artists! We've been busy working behind the scenes to make this year's event even better, and to that end, we are looking to expand our mod team.

Specifically, we’re looking for a graphics mod to wrangle our adorable mascots and disseminate important information about our event.

Almost all of our information is pre-written, but we know it can all get a little dense! Someone who can grab attention with an announcement banner, or wrap up the major points in a tidy graphic, would be a great addition to our team.

If you're interested in joining the 2025 Dragon Age 25K Big Bang, please fill out our Google Form. We will close the form May 1. We'll be in touch soon!

*AI use of any kind is against our event policies.

More event information to come soon! Contact The Mods: ask | discord | email: thedragonagebigbang@gmail.com All 2024 Work Posts | 2024 Wrap Up | 2024 AO3 Collection

[demawrites]

wip wednesday

been tagged by a handful of people over the last month or two for this and keep slipping on actually posting anything, whoops! thank you always to everyone who tags me, I always love to see your works whether I post or not 💜

tagged this week by @flowersforthemachines and @shivunin, ty friends! I come with a snippet of the most recent thing I've been working on, my Arlow & Viago pre-canon origin story.

tagging forward to @fadedsweater | @rookinthecrownest | @soupandsorcery | @viagostalons | @ttrevelyan | and anyone who would like an open invitation to share, feel free to tag me so I can see your WIPs!

(as always, you can let me know if you do/don't want to be tagged in these!)

-

"What are you looking for?"

She has already exceeded his limit for unprompted questions, so this time he pairs his glare with a sharp reprimand. "Did no one ever teach you that children should be seen, not heard?"

And there, finally: a crack in her facade. Just a brief flash of anger and grief, there and gone again like the pain of pressure on a bruise. If he were a different man, he might apologize, or even smile. Instead, he pulls a corkscrew from his case. She wets her lips, eyes darting between him and the bottle and her hands against the table.

"No one who is left to care," comes the answer he wasn't actually expecting to get. Flecks of red wax litter the table between them and the cork comes free with a pop that echoes around the sparse room. Viago narrows his eyes at her over the lip of the bottle as the pieces of a plan slot into place.

Tabula rasa. It has given him issues, taking over an existing House. Everyone has already been written over, forged, molded into the Fifth Talon’s use for them and it is a task, teasing out who is loyal and who is not, and who might be turned with the right argument. And no matter how confident he is in any given agent, they were all recruited and trained by another hand. They were all, at one time or another, loyal to someone—or something—else.

He can never be sure.

“If I do not kill you,” he lets his voice linger on if and kill, just to see if she will flinch; she does, but not by much. Her teeth dig into the inside of her cheek instead. “Where will you go?”

She shrugs. “Home?” he presses.

The grief flashes in her eyes again and she violently shakes her head, salt-stiff strands of brown-red hair catching on her nose and ears. She does not explain, and he does not ask her to. He gestures to the window, where the muffled shouting has finally subsided.

“You were running.” It is not a question. “Why?”

“Because I do not like the dockmaster.” A smile curls the corners of her mouth; she fights it, but a glint of mirth reaches her eyes anyway. “And the dockmaster does not like being stabbed.”

A fissure of surprise, then amusement, snakes through Viago. He does not smile—too tightly wound, reflexively keeping his expression placid—but he thinks about smiling, a little, as he glances to the dagger and the blood now congealing along its edge.

No one to miss her. Nowhere to go. And a very good reason to want to leave the city. Viago pours a mouthful of brandy into the glass he’s left untouched and pushes it toward her with two gloved fingers.

“Drink this, and you never have to see the dockmaster again.” The bottle thuds against the table, a sense of finality in the sound. “I will give you somewhere else to go.”

[demawrites]

Hey ho dear Ro, a poem for you on this fine DADWC Friday evening:

Hope by A.O. Taner.

Don't rush to wash off the sea salt drying on your skin; the hopes it carries from other oceans, those remain yet to be seen.

for whichever pairing suits you <3

Thank you Dema 💚 For Virelan and Solas, in whatever waits for them through that final rift. @dadrunkwriting

~~~

For her, for now, the Fade is an endless beach. 

In the distance, she thinks she can see an aravel, safely berthed and unpacked for the waning evening. As she approaches, there’s one more, two more, gathered together with their sails raised as pavilions. The scent of simmering fish wafts towards her, cutting through the smell of salt and unseen tide pools. She hears the echo of laughter and conversation, the pounding of mortar and pestles to prepare cassava, even the crackle of far away fires. 

Virelan wants to run towards it — the nearness of home, so close she can taste the egusi, feel the warm hands on her shoulders, hear the welcomes in her ears. But something holds her back. 

Solas’s hand tightens in hers. 

Their steps slow. Virelan doesn’t come any closer — if she does, she’ll see that the faces are not those of Clan Lavellan, but of spirits showing her the memory. For now, she closes her eyes and soaks them in. 

When she opens them, there is a statue at their feet. A carven figure of a wolf, smaller than she remembers. It takes her another moment to realize what else is wrong. 

“It faces towards the camp,” Solas murmurs — the tone of his voice is both light with surprise and hesitant with the strength of his mourning. 

Virelan kneels down in the sand. She lets go of Solas, just long enough to rub her palm over the rough head of the Fen’Harel statue — no longer cast out, but waiting instead for his welcome home.

“And here I thought you’d created this memory just for me,” Virelan chuckles.

Solas lays his hand on her shoulder and squeezes. 

“No,” she answers for him. She looks towards the camp, her heart no longer threatening to leap into her throat and choke her with tears. “No, this is mine. And you, my heart, are welcome.”

[demawrites]

You don't turn a river by abruptly trying to get it to change direction. You don't have that much power. No matter how strong you are. The river will just overwhelm you and obstinately carry on pretty much as before. You can't make it change direction overnight. No one can. On the contrary, you have to start by flowing with it.

You have to capture its own force and then slowly but surely lead it in the desired direction. The river won't notice it's being led if the curve is gentle enough. On the contrary, it will think it's flowing just the same as usual, seeing as nothing seems to have changed.

  —  The Room (Jonas Karlsson)

[demawrites]

Becoming a writer is great because now you have a hobby that haunts you whenever you don’t have time to do it

[demawrites]

This links to a wheel with nearly a hundred fic tropes for plots, settings, and more. Spin it twice.

This could also work with art inspiration, but the buttons only allow for so many characters on them. And please do ramble in the tags! I'm going to have no idea what most of you are talking about, and it's going to be great.

[demawrites]

‘TOL AND SMOL’ PROMPTS

feel free to combine these with dialogue whether it’s something you make up or from other memes your partner has reblogged. 

[ BEND ]  for the shorter muse to tug the taller muse down so they can kiss their forehead. 

[ LEAN ]  for the taller muse to lean down to kiss the shorter muse’s forehead. 

[ LIFT ]  for taller muse to lift up the smaller one and sit them on a surface where they can be eye level. 

[ CLIMB ]  for the shorter muse to find somewhere to perch so they can be eye level with taller muse. 

[ INTERRUPT ]  for shorter muse to stop during the middle of a conversation and stand on a chair/sit on a table so they can be eye level with the taller one. 

[ GIVE ]  for the taller muse to place their jacket around the shorter muse’s shoulders,  the garment essentially ‘swallowing them whole.’

[ TAKE ]  for the taller muse to find the shorter one has ‘borrowed’ a shirt/sweater/jacket etc.  which is oversized on them.  

[ GO ]  for the taller muse to pick up the shorter one and carry them away from a potential/just started fight. 

[ RIDE ]  for the taller muse to give the shorter one a piggyback ride so they don’t have to keep up. 

[ SEE ]  for shorter muse to insist on getting to ride on the taller one’s shoulders.  

[ FIND ]  for the taller muse to lift the shorter one by the waist so they can reach something. 

[ EMBRACE ]  for the taller muse to lift the shorter muse off the ground when they hug. 

[ CATCH ]  for the shorter muse to run and jump into the taller muse’s arms. 

[ CARESS ]  for the taller muse to pick up the shorter one to kiss them. 

[ GIVE ]  for the shorter muse to stand or climb to sit on a higher surface to demand a kiss from the taller one. 

[  PULL  ]  for the shorter muse to tug the taller one down by the collar to kiss them. 

[ URGE ]  for the taller muse to tilt the shorter one’s chin up so they can look at their face. 

[ LOWER ]  for the taller muse to kneel in front of the shorter one so they’re less intimidating. 

[ HELP ]  for the taller muse to use the advantage of their stature to shield the shorter one from something. 

[ AID ]  for the taller muse to pick up the shorter one to lift them over something  (  stairs,  while hiking, a large puddle etc.  ). 

[ INSIST ]  for the shorter muse to guide the taller one to sit so they don’t have to keep looking up. 

[ COMFORT ]  for the taller muse to tuck their chin atop the shorter one’s head while they hug. 

[ MELT ]  for the taller muse to lean down so they can bury their face into the shorter one’s shoulder. 

[ GENTLE ]  for the smaller muse to hug the taller one while they are seated so the taller one can hide their face against them. 

[ BLOCK ]  for the taller muse to stand in front of the shorter one to prevent them from having to see something. 

[ CUDDLE ]  for the taller muse to the big spoon. 

[ HELD ]  for the shorter muse to be the big spoon. 

[ TENDER ]  for the taller muse to kiss the shorter one’s head while they embrace. 

[ GENTLE ]  for the shorter muse to kiss the taller one’s chest while they hug. 

[ REST ]  for the shorter muse to lean forward and press their forehead against the tall one’s chest/shoulder while they stand in front of each other. 

[ TOUCH ]  for the taller muse to lean down and press their forehead to the shorter one’s. 

[ PRESS ]  for the shorter muse to take hold of the taller one’s face to pull them down so they can press their foreheads together. 

[ GAZE ]  taller muse is sitting and the shorter one who is standing in front of them takes their face into their hands while they talk. 

[demawrites]

Emily Dickinson ― The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson

[demawrites]

Alfonsina Storni, tr. by Dorothy Scott Loos, from Selected Poems; "The Stars Call To Me,"

[demawrites]

Six Sentence Sunday

got tagged by @inquisimer to share six sentences of a wip! SO here we go! Surprisingly- no angst this time?

Vela spoke again. “Were they being an ass?” Ghilara laughed, pure and light as she spoke, “yeah.” “Were you being an ass?” “Probably, yeah,” she admitted, but still with a light smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Well shit, there goes all my ideas.”

tagging it forwards to @ammoniteflesh @demawrites @theluckywizard @aezyrraeshh

[demawrites]

even as I stumble on the path

Some self-indulgent Cousland/Nathaniel that I've had sitting in my drafts for a while and finally found time to revise!

✨ read it on AO3 here! ✨

Female Cousland/Nathaniel Howe | T | 3092 words | No Warnings

While grieving an anniversary, Ember seeks refuge in the Chantry. Nathaniel finds her instead. - “They told me you wanted to be alone.” “So what are you doing here, then?” “You shouldn’t be alone, Em,” he said softly. “Not today. And I—“ he swallowed “—it doesn’t have to be me. I know you probably don’t want it to be me. But you shouldn’t be alone.”

Addt'l Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, past Alistair/Female Cousland, Enemies to Lovers, Developing Relationship, Character of Faith, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Chant of Light

DAFF Reading List: @warpedlegacy | @rakshadow | @rosella-writes | @effelants | @breninarthur

@ar-lath-ma-cully | @dreadfutures | @theluckywizard | @oxygenforthewicked | @exalted-dawn-drabbles |

@blarrghe | @leggywillow | @plisuu | @hekaerges | @queenaeducan

[demawrites]

six sentence sunday

tagged by @demawrites! ty beloved <3 this is technically seven sentences, but one of them is two words so sue me, lol. Here's a little hint of the post-DAO arc I'm working on for Sari Mahariel!

Sari scowled. She hated the perceptive types. Morrigan had been like that, and it was why they never really got along. Why— She dug her nails into her palm, focused only on the sting of pain and the crescent-shaped bites it would leave in her skin. Then she reached into one of the pouches at her hip and pulled out the humming bottle from Avernus’ tower. “Ah,” he said, more guarded now. But he had nothing to fear from Sari.

tagging forward to: @crabs-with-sticks | @hekaerges | @skinwalkingxana | @leggywillow | and @greypetrel

[demawrites]

Six Sentence Sunday

Tagged by @demawrites!

Working on the next chapter of TBG, the Knight's Guardian meets Merrill, and Ixchel worries about Solas, still trapped by Valor.

It bowed its head to Merrill. "You navigate the dreaming world with clearer eyes than most, and your steps leave no mark." "Oh, I'm no Dreamer," Merrill said in surprise. "There is no need to be in a place such as this," the wolf replied with a chuckle. "Many Dreamers have been caught in traps far less sophisticated." It glanced at Ixchel, then away.

Tagging:

@queenaeducan-writes | @theshirallen | @salesmain | @bodysnatch3r | @shivunin

and

@rosieofcorona

to share some six sentences if ya want

[demawrites]

Shocking, I know.

Here's a rough snip from a wip:

He smiled. "You want the boyfriend experience?" Cassandra turned away, blistering with rage, a furious red spreading from her ears to her cheeks to her throat. But before she could reach the stairs, his arms circled her waist, pulling her roughly back against him. "If you’re going to mock me –" she began, her white-knuckled grip on the banister tightening to the point of pain. "I’m not mocking you," he breathed against her neck, "I’m asking what you want."

Tagging: @dreadfutures

& @inquisimer

& @rosella-writes

& @plisuu

& @exalted-dawn-drabbles

& @kiastirling-fanfic

Separately! Because Tumblr is Evil!!!

Photo credit: Yannick Pulver

[demawrites]

SAVE THE DATE! One month 'til reveals!

💫 turn notifications ON for @thedragonagebigbang

💫 check back in every day beginning Nov 4

💫 share the works for other fans

💫 give our teams some cheers for their hard work!

Work Reveals begin NOVEMBER 4!

The Dragon Age Big Bang work reveals begin NOVEMBER 4. Our writers and artists have been working hard since July to produce amazing longfics and art based on your favorite series! Please remember to give them some love and share their excitement when reveals begin!

While many of us will also be playing the new game, we encourage everyone to tune in for the STACKED lineup of fics and illustrations we have for you! Whatever character, pairing, or franchise installment is your favorite, you are guaranteed to find something you LOVE.

🫰 all works will have tags and no sp**lers will be shared. It's safe to celebrate with us!

We still have several weeks of creator interviews to post between now and November 3, right up to the day works reveal! Stay tuned!

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On Desktop: Navigate to thedragonagebigbang.tumblr.com and look at the top right. Follow us, and click "get notifications."

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Thank you for following our progress so far - the payoff is about to come!

Full Event Documents: Rules | Code of Conduct | Event Guidebook Contact The Mods: ask | discord | email: thedragonagebigbang@gmail.com

[demawrites]

Happy DADWC Day! From Lamia by Keats, I send you:

"I had a splendid dream of thee last night: I saw thee sitting, on a throne of gold," For Neria <3

Hello, thank you for the prompt! Those are some good lines.

Under the cut, please find ~250 words of vaguely shippy f!Surana & the Architect for @dadrunkwriting. Note: reference to slavery in Tevinter.

-

“I dreamt of you last night—as a man, not a darkspawn,” says Neria, and the Architect jerks, as if startled from a dream of its own.

She goes on. “You gave orders from a golden seat, and kept a staff across your lap. You were pale and quiet. You couldn’t walk.”

“What a curious dream, Commander.” Its good eye tracks her mildly. Without its finery, in the simple hooded robes it sometimes wears when they are alone, its monstrosity is plain and almost homely.

“I asked you what had happened,” she says, “and you showed me. I watched you kneel over a golden basin and make cuts on your groin and thigh. As you bled, you chanted and prayed.”

“A golden basin,” it murmurs, testing the point of one long black nail. Pondering her words, not distracted.

“You collapsed,” she continues, “and were found by an elven slave, covered in black fluid. You wept in the temple, and your tears—”

“—were black ichor. Yes, it is a dream I’ve had before. His memory.”

“Do you ever miss him?” asks Neria. “The High Priest?”

“I regret him. At times, I feel his loss. I would not like to see his return.”

“He was very beautiful.” She had felt for him, when he wept. He had believed the black ichor to be an omen for the Imperium; it was an omen for him, and for his own doing, not a future his gods wanted to mend. “But I prefer you as you are now, too.”