#wickedwitchofthewilds

[lottiesnotebook]

Happy Friday! A song lyric prompt for you: "I'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre" for Luna Tabris/ Zevran

I have not had a song lyric prompt before and I love both the prompt and the song (which was new to me! Thank you!)

This is the second delightfully juicy prompt you've sent me, so I hope you enjoy some Luna/Zevran smut with a side-dish of Horrible Angst.

Luna Tabris/Zevran Arainai, suicidal ideation, tender sex (yes I know those two should not be in the same fic but it's 1am and I make the rules...)

@dadrunkwriting (if you're still up!)

i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre

There's probably something deeply wrong with her, that she looks at Zevran Arainai, a man who so very recently held a knife to her throat, a man who was sent to kill her, would have killed her if she'd been a little slower, a little stupider, and want coils in her belly. Six months ago she'd never have dreamed of lusting after an assassin, a man with blood on his hands, a man who tasted of death and ashes, a beautiful boy who'd died in some cell in Antiva years before she ever got the chance to meet him.

Six months ago, she was a different woman - a girl, really, for all her pretence at worldliness and city-slick savvy. She'd been a bride in a white gown she barely deserved, with flowers in her hair, who'd looked up at a boy who'd glowed with an almost holy radiance, who'd looked at her like she was precious, who'd touched her like she was sacred. Nothing was sacred to her now, with the Blight in her veins. She was a dead woman walking, corruption incarnate, and it was no wonder that she could look at a man who'd come bearing death as her bride-gift and think I must have him.

The first time she lets him peel off her armour in pursuit of a 'massage' she knows is anything but, she almsot expects the cool, bright pain of a knife through her throat or slipped between her ribs. She wouldn't begrudge him for it - they are both survivors, at the core of them, and at least at his hands, her death would serve a purpose.

But he does not stab her, or poison her, or crack something heavy over her head. He does not bear down on her with the weight of his body and choke the air from her lungs, let the world go black around her, let death take her before the Blight takes a deeper hold. He does not even, at first, rest a hand on her bared breast, or take a liberty he might easily steal in the shadows of her tent. Instead, he rubs circles into the aching muscles of her back until they relax, digs his thumbs gently around the divots of her shoulderblades, the dips between her vertebrae, kneads her skin like dough until she feels almost limp and pliant, until she is soft as she has not been since her wedding day, and still she thinks this is when the knife will come. A part of her would almost welcome it, to die like this, soft and sweet and gentle once more.

But still, it does not come, and the shock is not the cool slip of a blade between her ribs but the light, almost-chaste kiss he presses to the back of her neck, a question held in the curve of it - is this alright? Do you want more?

Of course she wants more - she wants him like a woman six months starved wants a banquet, wants to push him down and take him in her mouth and devour him, but there is something about the softness of that kiss- the softness he has slipped into her like contact poison - that gives her pause. Calculated softness, feigned vulnerability is as much an assassin's tool as his blades, but how often has someone - not a mark, not a Crow, just a bedmate or a friend - offered him softness in return? Offered him anything like the tenderness he has, in this moment, seeded in her heart?

She sits up, rolls her shoulders, says, softly: "Thank you. That was- that was what I needed."

"And was it all you needed, cara mia?" His voice is a low purr, calculated for seduction, and she could let him lead her down this path, she wants to, but-

"What do you need?" she says, instead, tracing the lines of his vallaslin with her fingers, skimming the collar of his shirt. "How can I take care of you?"

He blinks at her, the question clearly alien, unexpected, a break in the script he has so carefully prepared for their first night together.

"I do not- that is not your concern," he murmurs, even as he leans into her touch like a cat who's never been touched by gentle hands before, and maybe he has never been- she does not hear much of tenderness in his tales of life among the Crows.

"I'd be a poor lover if it wasn't," she retorts, her hand skimming lower, to the laces of his shirt. She moves slowly, cautiously, giving him every chance to pull away, but he does not - only kneels, half-trembling, to see what she will do to him next.

Later, she will take him as she's imagined doing so often, as she has every time she's peeled off his shirt and unlaced his breeches in her mind, hard and rough and with no concern for any pleasure but her own, and she thinks he will enjoy that in a different way, revel in the marks of her pleasure, her greed, her hunger left on the curve of his throat, clawed into his back.

Now, though, she's careful with him - the same care, the same tenderness that he has given her, the light touch of her fingers as if she is repairing a butterfly's wing. He arches up towards them, keens into her airy kisses, buries his head in her shoulder when she finally slides down onto his cock and takes him, slow and gentle and easy as if it were the first time for both of them, and perhaps, in a strange way, it is. He slips a hand between them, makes her gasp and shudder around him, and she tangles her fingers in his hair, murmurs soft, sweet nonsense from a lifetime ago, the type of tender things she might have saved for her husband if she'd been allowed to keep him. She feels his tears wet her shoulder, her breast, his grip tighten on her hip as if she is the only real thing in the world, and she wonders if there is someone that he is imagining too, some other lost love who showed him tenderness before she did.

But if he imagines another, the only words on his lips are "Luna, sweet Seluna, cara mia," words escaping in gasps that she steals as kisses and pretends she does not see him weep. She calls him darling, sweetheart, mine, presses herself so close she could crawl into his skin, the sweat and death and ashes of him, and it would still feel cleaner than her own. Perhaps what she wants is to force the broken pieces of them together, and see if it makes them whole.

It does not, it cannot, but when she comes apart around him and he spills against her stomach, it feels like they came close to it, like enough attempts to warp them into fitting will repair them both. Maybe that's why she stays, arm slung across the planes of his stomach, muscle veiled by the thinnest layer of fat. Maybe that's why, when she wakes, she catches him looking at her like a moth drawn to a flame, like a man half in love with his own death, and thinks Maker, what have I done?

She does not want to know what her tenderness has wrought, what fragile thing within him has been crushed by her clumsy fingers. She does not want to be the death of him, but she fears, somehow, she will be.

[wickedwitchofthewilds]

2024 Year Wrap-Up

I was tagged by @thevikingwoman (thank you!)

I imagine most everyone has done this already but if you see this and you haven't, consider yourself tagged

—Words posted: 115,705 and a lot of it was for my BG3 longfic I think

—Additional Words Written: I use a tracker thankfully so my wordcount total for last year was 196,151 which could also be additional fanfic that I haven't posted yet. At least 50k of it is original fic, well, one project, and some for another project but I'm not sure how much without going through all the numbers

—Grand total of words: 196,151

—Fandoms: Baldur's Gate 3, Dragon Age Inquisition, Dragon Age Veilguard, Mass Effect Andromeda

—Works: 12

—Highest Kudos: Blood Queen: Haven which is a rewrite of something I had first posted on AO3 and I've finally started working on it here and there again

—Highest Hit One-shot: Crave a one-shot I wrote for last year's Smutquisition

—New Things I Tried: I submit an original short story to a couple anthologies. I did not get into those anthologies unfortunately but I put myself out there knowing I would likely get a rejection and that's huge for me!

—Fic I Spent the Most Time On: touch a razorblade to the sky mostly because it's a longfic and BG3 had a hold on me for a lot of last year (and then DA:V showed up) and Rhea is one of the characters that when I think about her, I have to write her because she is just that compelling

—Fic I Spent the Least Time On: Tighter, My Heart I did this one for the Halsin appreciation week. I only managed a couple of prompts but I remembered trying to keep them short and sweet and this was the shortest

—Favourite Thing I Wrote: So I finally started working on UNTETHERED again last year after many false starts and thinking I suddenly couldn't write anymore. Then a lightbulb went off and I realized where I was going wrong and where i wanted to go with the story (and the series as a whole) and know I'm so excited to get fucking weird. I rewrote the opening prologue and it's one of my favorite, gross things I've written

—Favorite Thing I Read: I haven't read much fanfic lately so I don't have favorite fic but some of my favorite books that I read last year were THE CRADLE OF ETERNAL NIGHT and THE FEALTY OF MONSTERS both by @ladzwriting

—Something I Finished: I had two bang fics that I finished last year and a handful of one-shots. I haven't finished any of my longfics yet. On the original side, I finished the sequel to AN ORC AND A GENTLEMAN and it's about time for me to crack that open again

—Miscellaneous Highlights: I wrote! Given how last year was in general, the fact that I managed to keep writing even though I wrote nowhere near what I am capable of, was a feat!

—Writing Goals for 2025:

To write consistently and try my best to meet my goals but also not beat myself up if I am unable to do so for whatever reason. I want to find the joy in my writing again and so I'll be writing my fanfic again because I was happiest when I was writing both fanfic and original works.

—Final Thoughts:

[ahmedtanboura]

‼️What happens ‼️Can you imagine, my friend that one kilogram of firewood costs about $2? 😳

This is a difficult thing for us Because we have no source of income because of the war we are experiencing in Gaza

🍉‼️🍉‼️

Therefore, we resort to buying Bread from the bakery This thing is very difficult Because of the large numbers of people waiting at the bakery gate to get some bread ❤️‍🩹🥺Because of the large crowding of residents. It causes cases of suffocation and may cause death to sick people and children who are also waiting for bread 💔💔

Watch these children waiting at the gate of a bakery to get bread How sad this scene is These children are supposed to go to school, but because of the war, they were deprived of education and food as well.

I hope that you, friends, will help and donate a small amount to me so that I can help my family buy bread and firewood ‼️🍉❤️‍🩹

donation ⬇️

https://gofund.me/5cd39587

Please don't ignore me ‼️‼️‼️🍉

@the-silent-clay

@wearerofsocks

@catsonja

@artoatsblog

@wickedwitchofthewilds

@emberindigocymbee

@skiddlecat

@wdo-obw

@gromphadorhina

@starrysammie

@pigeondefender01

@insomniac-jay

@spago

@runawaywhorses

@comrademango

@aromperandsunnydaze-blog

@loonarmuunar

@tim-the-rat

@asviewabove

@here-sean-once-was

@pikslasrce

@heydreamchild

@kantimplora

@theottomek

@supremeladykhaos

@mistress--kanzaki

@heydreamchild

@the-anime-man

@reyesstrand

@soviet-space-ace

@tired-and-unjellied

@theclowninghour

@heavensmonsters-blog

@alwaysgazing

@auselesspileofmoss

@mc-tummy-blur

@giratina-and-the-skys-bouquet

@lopadopalis

@giratina-and-the-skys-bouquet

@impossibledial

@arcticat

@trixanimations

@m-llohi

@anassemblageofpassions

@lordzannis

@qattdraws

@11lovebullets

@theopalescent1

@impossibledial

@comrademango

[dadrunkwriting]

DWC Housekeeping - Team NA/AUS/Asia

Hi all! our headcount is nearing Tumblr's tag/mention limit, so we're checking in to make sure that everyone on the active headcount still wants to be tagged.

We ask that you think honestly about if you intent to regularly partiipate in DWC when deciding whether to stay on the active list. Remember, you don't have to be active to participate in a one-off Friday, and you can become active again at any time.

If you would like to stay on the active headcount, please reply to this post with a message by Thursday, May 15th 11:59pm PDT. If your blog name has changed, please let us know that as well!

NO REPLY is necessary if you wish to go inactive. If you do not reply to this post, we will assume you want to be taken off the headcount.

Reminders

Inactive writers can become active again at any time! Just message an admin and we'll add you back to the regular headcount.

Inactive writers can always opt in for the occasional Friday! You will not be tagged in the headcount, but if you reply to the post before 4pm Pacific Time on Friday, we'll include you on the kickoff.

Regardless of whether you're active or inactive, DADWC members are always welcome to post and tag us on Friday nights. If an old prompt inspires you, write, post, and tag!

Note: please do NOT do this if you are not a DADWC member. If you'd like to sign up, message an admin!

Our Discord is open to both active and inactive writers! Message an admin for an invite if you'd like to join.

We will reblog this post throughout the week to make sure everyone sees it. Changes will go into effect this Friday, May 16th.

@anonymous-inquisitor @asexualtabris @broodwoof @championofthefade @contreparry

@crabs-with-sticks @dreadfutures @emmrichsvolkarin @exalted-dawn-drabbles @ghoulsbeard

@givemeunicorns @glowing-blue-feathermage @highwayphantoms @inquisimer @kiastirling-fanfic

@leggywillow @localsoupdealer @luzial @megthemariner @midmorninggrey

@mythalsknickers @nirikeehan @oxygenforthewicked @rookgallustroublesomehousehimbo @ruiningsalads

@saltyowlets @sandcoloredcat @shouldaspunastory @sidneysussex @skinwalkingxana

@sky-fire-forever @syrupwrit @thatdreadbitch @the-font-bandit @tobythewise

@transdreadwolf @vigilskept @virshiral @wickedwitchofthewilds @wishforhome

[alyssalenko]

Last Line Meme

@hazelestelle @forlornmelody @sorchacahill @kittynomsdeplume and @badwolf626 tagged me to share the last line I wrote and to tag as many people as there are words and I've been back in Rydyle's sand box :)

“I would've thought you'd recognize your own office."

phew. only eight. I'll tag @vorchagirl @commander-krios @ooachilliaoo @wickedwitchofthewilds @foofyschmoofer @spacebunshep @mcgeeki and @heylittleriotact if you want to play!

[the-wip-project]

January 26

Hello writerly friends!

I hope you are deep in your story and got a first grasp of what your story wants to be. Maybe it even surprised you, developed in a way you didn't expect. 

Your most important trait as a writer is perseverance. You have to stick to it, you have to keep going, because you cannot discover your story if you don't write it. But there will come a point where you get stuck. Writer's block is extremely difficult for discovery writer, because we don't have an outline to guide us forward. We're stuck and we don't know where to go next.

Maybe you've already run into that kind of wall, so let's return to Patricia McLinn's book "Survival Kit For Writers" to find some advice about how to deal with writer's block as a discovery writer.

Patricia McLinn turns to brainstorming when she gets stuck. She advises to leave the actual story, but work inside the world you've created. Take your characters and ask them questions. Specific questions. This is not a friendly interview, grab your character and ask them "What the fuck was that about?" and then write down everything you'll find. Be demanding, make it an argument. Poke your subconscious until it spills the beans. These are not words that will end up in your story, but they will show you where your story is headed.

Another piece of advice you'll always hear around writer's block and its remedies, is to "refill the creative well". Meaning: reading and watching stories. McLinn specifies this more, she recommends that you read specific chunks of other books for inspiration. If you're stuck on a fight scene, find fight scenes in other books and analyse what you like and dislike about them. 

That's also a general point regarding the books we read. What stands out to you? What do you find important in the stories you read? What speaks to you about a specific scene? I'm usually too lazy to write that down, but it probably makes sense to write those sort of findings down. Don't be lazy like me, be smarter.

As always, accountability and writing sprints are good tools that work well. Posting here on tumblr how you write and how it's going, may look like nothing important now, but you will look back on this one day and be amazed at what you did. It means something to say "look, I did that".

We have a check-in channel on our discord, where we post our wordcounts for accountability. It's just a little thing, but I look into the channel every day and it makes me so happy to see all those numbers. Someone follows this project on bluesky and posts daily (very impressive) wordcounts, and really tickles me to see that. 

Our sprint bot died, so there aren't any sprints right now, but you can always use a focus app on your phone and set it to 20 minutes, or you can use a site like OhWrite (https://ohwrite.co/) to sprint with other people. These things work, honestly. I know it's annoying but these are like the easiest tools in the box and it would be stupid not to use them. 

So in that spirit, let's see your accountability!

@creativelyfueled @wildswrites @pheita @koiwrites @wickedwitchofthewilds @theburnedoutnerd @fontainebleau22 @illegalcerebral @incognitajones @theglitchywriterboi @sashakielman @satashiiwrites @lilliebellfanfics @jeaniefranklins @iressails @lastelle21 @sgam76 @tryingtimi @randomquadballpun @dragonnan @mclavellan @bisexualdawnsummers @hiraethwritings @523rdrebel @thebonesongs @gewhanaa @broodwolf221 @batteredrugosa @quilleth @exceedinglyfilledwithfolly @vigilskept @drowsy-quill @i-had-bucky @direquail @jacqueswriteblrlibrary @bogunicorn

[dragonagebigbang]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/66144979/chapters/170472448 Hi everyone! We're back with our thirty seventh work of the Dragon Age Big Bang 2025! Let's give it up for author wickedwitchofthewilds and artist The Font Bandit; they did incredible work! Go check out their efforts over on Archive of Our Own, and we hope y'all enjoy!

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Illario Dellamorte has a target on his back. A prisoner in his own home and once again regarded as a failure by his grandmother, he turns to vices to soothe his aching ego. Until Rook's sister, a spy for the Divine, comes to Villa Dellamorte. The two must work together to uncover a plot to restore what's left of the Venatori while fighting the growing attraction between them.

[tragedybunny]

Why Did Astarion Fall For Your Tav

Previously I did a post about why my Tav fell for Astarion, so I thought it would be interesting to see the reverse, why did Astarion fall for her.

Astarion isn't very fond of Serafina (Sera) at the outset. She's sweet, kind, and fairly quiet. Plus everyone seems to like her, she's too perfect. But he learns quickly her kindness seems to extend to everyone, even him. So he goes in for the manipulation plan.  

After an argument about yet another side quest to help some rando, Astarion learns Sera isn't just nice and kind naturally, she talks about making it a conscious choice. Somehow, he finds the effort admirable. 

Over time, he begins to catch glimpses of something underneath the surface; nightmares of the family she left behind, moments where she falters and self-doubt overtakes, a stare that goes off into the distance for leagues when she should be smiling or laughing. Sera is wearing a mask, much like his own and no one sees it but him, a mask he can't ask about because she won't, or can't, speak of her past. 

She's strong all the time, and she takes care of everyone around her, he starts to believe maybe she needs someone to take care of her. Not that he thinks he'll be any good at it. But he sometimes feels the strangest urge to repay all her kindness to him. 

Not only is Sera kind though, as she opens up, he finds her to be intelligent and witty. She has no problem trading sassy words with him, but never pokes at his past, and she's well-read to discuss some of his favorite books.

What surprises him though is the fun, she'll laugh at his dirty jokes and tell one her own. They whisper to each other on the road, sharing lighthearted gossip about the rest of their companions. When he finally surrenders to his feelings and they start sharing a tent, there’s even the occasional incredible instance of her tickling him as they cuddle at night or playfully biting him. It’s the kind of intimacy he doesn't know if he’s ever had, a lover and a friend.

And there are nights she doesn't want sex, and seems happy enough to just lay there with him, wrapped around each other. He knew there were feelings growing, but nights with someone who wanted to listen to him, to hold him, to just be with him, made him realize just how far gone he was. 

That’s when he can’t contain it anymore, he wants something real. 

Tags; but anyone can play!

@tallymonster @spacebarbarianweird @bhaalbaaby @vixstarria

@wickedwitchofthewilds @bunnidarling @marcynomercy @leomonae @evillittlebirdie

[golden-heretic]

EDIT: Couldn't fit all of the slides so the list of book recommendations will be added here:

Heir to the Autumn Court by @porterotica

The Fox & The Dryad by @skellygraves

Junker Seven by @olivejkelley

Where Willows Weep by @wickedwitchofthewilds

Angels & Man by @nicosraf

Mercy by @cometkinsart

Mistress of Lies by @kmenright

Valerie the Fair by Rien Gray

The Fealty of Monsters by @ladzwriting

God & The Conquered by Ezra Ardnt

The Fall that Saved Us by Tamara Jerée

The Sanguine Sorceress by @aninkwellofnectar

[roguelioness]

wip wednesday

tagged by @lilas thank you ♥

tagging @thevikingwoman, @myreia, @galadrieljones, @tadpole-apocalypse, @darethshirl, @wickedwitchofthewilds. @birues, @fiadhaisteach @janzoo, @galadae + open tag for anyone who wants to do this!

I've been trying to learn how to work with clay lately, and tried to make a sort of bas-relief of fen'harel

I still need to fix some cracks before deciding if i want to paint it or not, but I'm pretty happy with how it's turned out so far!

[lottiesnotebook]

It's Friday and time for another lyric prompt! "Wash away the blood on my hands" (Atlantic by Sleep Token) for Cara Hawke Laidir/Lucanis Dellamorte/Spite

Aaaaa your Sleep Token prompts kill me every time. This is technically set post-game, but I have not finished Veilguard yet (I KNOW) so please take any mischaracterisation of Lucanis & Spite with a pinch of salt, I just thought this would be angsty fun.

Cara Hawke Laidir/Lucanis Dellamorte/Spite, hurt/comfort, bathing

@wickedwitchofthewilds | @dadrunkwriting

wash away the blood on my hands

After the end of the world, Lucanis and Spite return to Treviso, to the Crows, to the life of shadows and secrets and bloodied hands that is the only one they have ever known, a weapon honed to a keener edge by Zara Renata, and then by the end of the world. To the hand of Caterina Dellamorte, the woman in who's fires they were forged, the first hand that fit their hilt. Spite resents it, he can tell. Spite resents everything about the return to a life they have never known. Spite, most of all, resents Caterina - every slight and cruelty Lucanis has swallowed or put behind him has been catalogued and stored and pored over by the demon in the back of his mind.

No Talon, they hiss, no orders, no more chains or cells or beatings.

"We are still a Crow," he murmurs. "What would you have us do, if not what we've always done?"

Not this, Spite whispers, not for her.

He knows what Spite wants, which is almost worse than when he could pretend that the demon's desires remained a mystery to him. Now he knows how entwined they are, he knows that every desire Spite voices is an echo or a reflection of his own, and that makes it harder to repress or resist, when he has grown used to indulgence, beneath the Lighthouse's roof.

He wants- they want Rook, their leader, their lover, the gentlest hand to ever have held their blade, the thief in the night who stole their heart and still lay with them till morning, but he cannot ask her to come to them. She may have claimed to love the Demon of Vyrantium, to accept the man they were, but it's easy to love a killer when a war against gods makes them a hero. He cannot imagine Cara Hawke-Laidir living among the Crows, Cara with her face like glass which hides nothing from him, Cara with her heart wide open for a friend or a lover or a blade. His grandmother has taught him by example what happens to those a Talon loves, what it costs to survive among their kind.

Even if Cara were capable of becoming such a person, of loving him in what passes for peace as well as in war, he cannot ask her to become anything less than the golden girl who burned like a piece of the sun beneath the waves, any more than he can be other than what he has always been - an assassin, a Crow. He cannot watch her brightness become further dimmed by grief or ruthlessness or shadows, any more than he can leave behind the work he loves, the life he has been honed for since childhood.

So he does not ask, despite Spite's nagging, despite Cara's letters. He replies to her, of course, with every endearment he knows (mi sol, mi corazon, cariña) - he cannot quite bring himself to let her go (and even if he could, Spite would not allow it). He sees her, when his travels take him north to Rivain, or their paths cross on the road, and every time she teases: Are you scared I'll ruin your reputation, Demon of Vyrantium?

He knows what she is really asking: Do you still want me? Do you still need me, now you and Spite can speak without me to translate? Is there a place in this new world for us? He does not know how to answer her. Spite will not accept an answer that drives her further from their arms. He cannot make her an offer that will change her beyond recognition.

He likely should have expected her to take the decision into her own hands, but in this sense, at least, Spite has always known her better. He can feel, but not name, the growing excitement and anticipation as he returns to his chambers after an assignment in Tevinter that left too much blood on his hands and too much travel on his skin, and he longs for his demon to quiet their hisses of sea-salt and cinnamon and sweet, sweet rage.

There is a bath already drawn in his room when he opens the door, when usually he'd have to call for one, or sleep in his filth rather than face anyone with the phantom blood clinging to his skin. The surface of the water still steams, breathing the tempting scents of rosemary and lavendar into the air, and it is so close to all that he wants that he cannot trust it. He hovers in the doorway, eyes darting between shadows, waits for the trap to spring.

Listen! Spite demands. Safe! Home! I smell her, why don't you?

"I didn't poison the water, if that's what you're wondering." Her voice passes his ears to the base of his spine - by the time he recognises it's her, his shoulders have already untensed, his gaze has softened, he's become loose-limbed and vulnerable as only she can make him. "Not that you don't deserve it," she adds, rolling into view from behind the curtains of his bed, crow-black and Rivain-gold and so lovely she has a fist wrapped around his heart from across the room, her nails digging into the tenderest spots. He is frozen with joy and with want, even as Spite flares behind his eyes:

"Rook! Rook! ROOK!"

It is Spite who crosses the room, who tangles their hands in her hair and pulls her into a devouring kiss. They catch her laugh in their mouth and swallow it down like honey as her quick, clever hands unpick the fastenings of their jacket and slide it from their shoulders.

"Good evening to you too," she grins, and her voice is a low purr that brings Spite alive with the promise of mischief, and sets guilt-stained desire roiling in Lucanis' gut, because he wants her even now, with blood on his hands, with the filth of his clothing marring the sheer white of her shift.

"He wouldn't let us write," Spite grumbles, "Would've told you to come sooner. We wanted you, all of us."

"Lucky we know better then, right?" she says, her fingers curling in their hair, and Spite leans into her grip and purrs low in his chest like a cat.

"Always," Lucanis agrees, catching her hand in his, kissing it. Her hands are so soft, for a Lord of Fortune, though he knows she wields a blade well enough when she must. "But- I did not wish you to see me like this, cariña." It is easier to wear blood on his skin when she is not there to see it.

She arches a brow. "Covered in dirt and smelling of travel? You've seen me in worse states."

"You know what I mean."

She leans back, holds him at arms-length to look him over, her head still tilted at a quizzical angle. She does know what he means, but she's going to force him to say it aloud regardless: "Do I?"

The dirt on his leathers has already smudged the pale froth of lace that covers her sun-gilded skin. "I will not come to your bed fresh from a kill, with blood on my hands."

Illario has often boasted of the thrill of bedding a lover fresh from an assignment, but they are not cut from the same cloth, and Lucanis has always preferred solitude, though Spite seems to disagree.

Cara's hands are still busy - they unpick the laces of his breeches and slide them from his hips, and Spite reaches for her with a lust Lucanis does not quite feel yet-

But she knows this, of course, and dances out of their reach, placing the bed between them.

"Lucky that I've come to yours, then, and that I've already run you a bath," she tells them, nodding to the tub by the fire. A flick of her fingers sets the water to steaming once more, and Lucanis wants to be clean as much as Spite wants to touch her, but they can bargain for this - he might feel more ready to bed her, if that's what she wants, when they are something close clean.

He almost groans aloud as the warm water takes him, and actually does when he feels her hands card through his hair, rubbing circles into his scalp, releasing the scent of rosemary into the air from the soap she's brought him.

"Cara mia," he breathes, they breathe, united, once more, by their trust in her careful hands. "This is not fit work for you."

"Probably not," she agrees, retrieving a pitcher that she pours over his head to rinse away soap and dirt. "but for you, I'll do it."

"I do not want-" Spite stops his tongue before he can lie to her - he cannot claim she is unwanted here. He negotiates, rephrases, selects words that are not a lie: "This is not a safe place, or a happy one."

"But it's where you are," she points out, irresistible as the tide. Her strong fingers dig into his shoulders, rub away months of tension and internal strife with no greater magic than the touch of her skin.

"I know, but-"

"Lucanis," she says, over his objections. "I know you. I know who you are, and what you've done, and why you think it's better if I stay away. And you know me. Do you really think I'm going to accept not getting what I want, after all this time?"

She wants them, he knows, he has known since the first night she pulled them into her bed. But there is a difference between knowing something and feeling it. There is a difference between hearing her say I love you, and feeling her hands wash the blood from his skin. In this moment, he knows which feels truer, and lets himself believe her fingers when her words are not enough.

[broodwoof]

Happy DADWC day :D How about 'kenopsia [ the eerie atmosphere of a place that is usually bustling with people but now abandoned ]' with Solas or fragment!Mythal (or both)

@dadrunkwriting - veilguard spoilers! also for @wickedwitchofthewilds who also requested kenopsia 💖 ough tho. my feels. ended up going with both of them and some past solythal references 😭 487 words cw: none, but a little nsfw in one part

"Should I thank you, Fen'Harel?" She was turned away, her brittle, cold voice a dagger twisting in his gut. "Should I be honored that you finally deigned to visit me?"

"Mythal—"

"No," she snapped, swirling around to lock eyes with him. "You have lost the right to address me so intimately." Under her sharp edged anger, he saw a shudder of something far more raw. A frisson of fear under the fury, of grief under the control.

He cast his eyes downward. A moment later he knelt. "I am so sorry," he told her without looking up. "You listened to me, and it cost you everything. I found a way to restore you, and abandoned you here." His contrition was insufficient. He lowered himself further, forehead pressed against the ground.

He did not deserve to use her name. Did not deserve to meet her eyes. Not after all he had done to her.

He did not move as he heard her light steps drawing near. "I remember the Wolf who would never back down." Her voice was different now, a thoughtful quality to it that puzzled him. "Have you been so thoroughly transformed? Are you a dog now, to kneel at my feet?"

"I—"

"I deserve to look upon your face," she interrupted. "I deserve to see whether you still care."

He exhaled shakily before lifting himself. He still knelt, but he looked up at her. Her eyes widened to see his tears, but he could not stop them once begun.

"I— do not—" it was rare to hear her stammer, but as she took a step away he realized she was shaking. "How dare you shed tears? Here? Now?" The questions came out in a rushed hiss, desperate and blurring together. "How dare you weep for me? I live! I am strong, I am—" she shook her head. "You are a sentimental fool."

"As I have always been," he said without thought, and was rewarded with the bare edge of a smile. A warm flicker of memory.

Arlathan. Her chambers. She called him many things, and always he had a rejoinder, a coy reply, with a bright, sharp grin. It had been their way.

"I remember," he said of the floating rush of her memory. "Do you?"

His supplanted hers, gently. A bolder moment still, another time he had knelt for her, with nothing but a column between them and the court. He had drank deeply of her core, head buried under her skirts.

They exchanged moments. Bursts of color, stolen tenderness, laughter and meals and sex.

But sentiment slowly gave way to their inevitable, shared grief. His memories strained towards the ruins of Arlathan. To the hollow emptiness of his slumber. To the fractured, foreign world he had awoken in.

They did not speak now. But he knelt, and she stood, and they did not look away. They shared something profound in this malleable space.

[tevivinter]

seven sentence wip

thanks for the tag, @serbarris! this is from a small oneshot i'm working on:

“Of course,” Lucanis hummed in agreement. “Just say the word if you need any assassinations done.” Caelen let out a chuckle, propping himself up on an elbow. His gaze lingered on Lucanis’s face, fond and amused, while his free hand traced idle patterns across his bare chest. “We haven’t even had breakfast and you’re already offering to commit murder for me? I’m flattered.” Lucanis’s smile grew. “For you, tesoro, I’d murder before breakfast.”

tagging @l-llavellans, @the-font-bandit, @wickedwitchofthewilds and @megthemariner, no pressure as always!

[dadrunkwriting]

DWC: Team Americas/Aus/Asia Head Count!

OPT-IN: Reply to this post from your writing blog by 4:00pm PST (7:00pm EST)!

If you cannot participate today, please do not reply! We'll see you again next week🥂

If you have questions about DADWC, check out our FAQ here! You can also send questions to any of our friendly admins:

Team NA: @dreadfutures | @inquisimer Team Europe: @pinkfadespirit | @highwayphantoms

Other Info:

If you want to join DWC, please contact any admin! We are here to help. Anyone can join DWC - there are zero barriers to entry. You can also check out our FAQ here.

If your blog name has changed, please message an admin so that we can tag you correctly.

If you are currently inactive, and would like to go active, please message an admin! If you missed the post about active/inactive, you can find it here.

DA Drunk Writing is on Discord! If you are a DWC writer (active or inactive) and would like to join our server, please let one of the admins know and we will send you a link.

Thank you! <3

@anonymous-inquisitor @asexualtabris @broodwoof @contreparry @crabs-with-sticks

@dreadfutures @exalted-dawn-drabbles @ghoulsbeard @glowing-blue-feathermage @highwayphantoms

@inquisimer @kiastirling-fanfic @leggywillow @luzial @megthemariner

@midmorninggrey @mythalsknickers @nirikeehan @oxygenforthewicked @raptorbox

@rookgallustroublesomehousehimbo @ruiningsalads @saltyowlets @shouldaspunastory @skinwalkingxana

@sky-fire-forever @syrupwrit @thatdreadbitch @the-font-bandit @tobythewise

@transdreadwolf @vigilskept @wickedwitchofthewilds @wishforhome

[alyssalenko]

First Line Challenge

I was tagged by @vorchagirl @hazelestelle and @kittynomsdeplume! Thanks darlings! Sorry it took me so long!

Rules: Post the first line of your WIP, the first line you worked on today, or any other “first line!”

I was literally working on three things in tandem this morning, but this is the first thing I wrote when I woke up. It's a medicinal fact that a little Kaidan/Joker/Femshep gets the heart started in the morning ;)

Kaidan’s chest pressed against her back, taking her hands in his and planting her palms against the mattress and she relaxed in his arms–there was something so comforting about being wrapped in the scent of the two of them.

I will tag @obvidalous @pikapeppa @schoute @charlatron @amarmeme @foofyschmoofer @hunnybadgerv @illusivesoul @wickedwitchofthewilds @heylittleriotact @commander-krios @heroofshield @underdark-dreams and anyone else who wants to play!

[the-wip-project]

February 9

Hello writerly friends!

Whenever I feel kind of lost in this whole writing thing, I scroll through the almost embarrassing number of writing advice books I have in various formats. And since this event is all about emerging themes, I am specifically looking at that sort of thing and wouldn't you know it, I found a book for us!

K.M. Weiland has written a book called WRITING YOUR STORY’S THEME (https://www.kmweiland.com/book/writing-your-storys-theme/), and that sounds exactly like the sort of thing we need. I haven't read all of it, not yet, I jumped forward to chapter nine "Writing Your Theme in the First Draft" because that, not surprisingly, spoke to me. In this chapter, K.M. Weiland describes a truth chart. 

Using a “Truth Chart” to Solidify Your Grasp of Theme The “Truth Chart” is a fast, one-page beat sheet designed to help you get your head around the big picture of theme and character, so you can see at a glance if everything is holding together and progressing realistically. [...]

Story’s Big Truth (Main Theme):

Story’s Big Lie:

Character’s Specific Truth:

Character’s Specific Lie:

The Thing the Character Wants:

The Thing the Character Needs:

The Character’s Backstory Ghost/Wound:

K.M. Weiland has more points to this truth chart, defining truths and lies in a three act structure. That's actually too specific for me, but I find these first points very useful. 

We have the main theme or themes (I still refuse to think of only one theme) which we're discovering as we write, and the lie or lies, the story tells the protagonist and readers about what it is about. These are the emerging themes we've been talking about for weeks. 

Then we have the characters, the truths and lies they tell themselves and believe. This where characters come to life, where we show what the characters think of themselves and what they believe they have to do and think. This is where convictions and insecurities come through, these are juicy building blocks to show character development and your themes. 

If you ever read any writing advice, you've probably came across points five, six, and seven several times. Defining the wants, needs, and wounds of your characters is the best trick to make your characters three-dimensional. You can break these things down further, what your character thinks they want and need, and what they really want and need. This is where the lies they tell themselves come to play again. As an example: A character telling themselves that they want that high paying job because they need the security, only to find out that they really want to find someone to love and need companionship. 

Looking at these points in the truth chart, can you fill in things from your own story?

@creativelyfueled @wildswrites @pheita @koiwrites @wickedwitchofthewilds @theburnedoutnerd @fontainebleau22 @illegalcerebral @incognitajones @theglitchywriterboi @sashakielman @satashiiwrites @lilliebellfanfics @jeaniefranklins @iressails @lastelle21 @sgam76 @tryingtimi @randomquadballpun @dragonnan @mclavellan @bisexualdawnsummers @hiraethwritings @523rdrebel @thebonesongs @gewhanaa @broodwolf221 @batteredrugosa @quilleth @exceedinglyfilledwithfolly @vigilskept @drowsy-quill @i-had-bucky @direquail @jacqueswriteblrlibrary @bogunicorn @bluejay-in-write