#Mythalsknickers writes

[mythalsknickers]

A DWC prompt appears! “Well this is awkward” for Zevran and Tabris?

Title: A Dance of WordsPairing: Zevran x Halvune TabrisRating: MWord Count: 951Warning/Tags: Blood, Killing, Flirting, Sexual TensionCC: @dadrunkwritingWelcome to how Halvune was disarmed mentally by a smug far too good looking Antivan assassin. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. There is also no editor as always.

Balancing her dagger in her hand, walking with Lola ahead of the group. The Mabari had been with her since Ostagar and she was different from the dogs in the Alienage. Behind them, Morrigan and Alistair bickered about maybe the chantry. It broke up the silence of the road.

Wait. She stopped suddenly looking around the road, there was no reason it should be this quiet. Not in this middle of the day. It was a gentle push from her palm to send her dagger in the air, it flipped once before she caught it gripping the cool metal handle in her calloused hands. 

As she reached to grab her sword, Lola’s hair bristled as she growled lowly, gnashing her teeth at a woman ran up to them.

“This way please help!” Alistair ran up behind her and she held up her hand as the woman ran back the way she came. It felt rehearsed, like the schemes she and Shiani used to run in the market, fleecing nobles.

“Halvune why are you just standing here?”  Taking a breath she looked at Alistair, he grew up as a noble, and a chantry he didn’t know how things were for regular people.

“Morrigan, Alistair, I want you to go ahead…it looks like there are two ridges up ahead. Don’t go up on them, just to help the people be careful, hunters could have set snares,” she instructed tapping her leg so Lola followed her. Leaving her companions on the road to walk into the ambush she was going to turn against, whoever it was that waited down there for them.

Carefully she stepped over the traps, watching to make sure Lola followed her and did not get caught in the traps. Silently they neared three bowmen. Peeking around the group she saw another group. Across the road. Of course, at least they had come prepared.  Silently she made a motion to mimic the tapping, signaling the Mabari to crawl forward. With quick signals she laid out the plan, Lola would take the two closest, leaving the end and other three.

As silent as a raven in flight, she moved through the tall grass, once behind the archer closest to the path to the other ridge. Lifting her hand above the grass she crooked her fingers, just as a man down below called for his Ambush. Lola lept at the first slamming him into the ground. Using the distraction Halvune sprang up reaching around she plunged her dagger into the center of the man’s chest. Yanking it out quickly, she dropped some powder letting it obscure her enough.

She danced over the trip wire and around the claw traps, flinching when she heard an explosion. It was a distraction, she would check on Morrigan and Alistair after these were gone. Maintaining her shroud of obscurity just barely she stood behind one archer, slicing his neck with her bloodied dagger. Grabbing ahold of him as his body sagged, she pivoted as his fellows hesitated. With all her strength she shoved the body into the middle archer before dashing over to the other, he barely parried her quick strike with her sword, her arm straining to maintain the block. She carefully inched closer to him. 

Sweat dripped from her forehead, her brows knitted in concentration, with a quick lunge, she hissed as an arrow grazed her cheek, slicing the skin open. She sunk her dagger into the man’s neck pulling it out quickly. Whirling around she saw the origin of the arrow. The second archer. She swung her sword cleaving into his neck. 

Halvune wasted no time getting down to her companions, her pale hair stained with the vivid red of her own blood. As the elf that seemed to be leading the ambush fell, her sword slammed into the ground. She quietly made her way over to him, as blood dripped from her dagger. Stepping over him she graceless sat on him holding a knife to his neck.

“Ugh…” Slowly he came around, and as much as Halvune did not want to admit it to herself, he was handsome. More so then Nealros…dear Nealros could ever claim. Her heart clenched at the memory of her dead husband and her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Well, my dear how did we end up in this situation?” her hand tightened around the dagger almost on reflex.

“Talk! Who hired you!” she barked the orders out, trying to ignore the fire she saw in his eyes, something burned between them both. The sooner she killed him the better.

“Well this is awkward, for us both I think my dear.” He licked his lips before flashing a seemingly knowing smile. “I was hired by a man known as Loghain, he wishes to kill you and your compatriots.” He attempted to look around. 

“After seeing how you decimated my fellow crows, I had a…change of heart. Allow me to serve you, in any way you desire.” She drew back, her eyes wide as he offered himself to her in such a way. 

“Alright-”

“You can’t be serious!” She jerked her head up as Alistair cut her off. “He just tried to kill us.” Halvune sighed pulling her dagger away in an exaggerated motion, dropping it on the ground.

“Alright, I am Halvune Tabris, that is Alistair and Morrigan. You can meet the others tonight…” she trailed off meeting his amber eyes for the first time with her pale green.

“Zevran Araiani.” He pushed against her, encouraging her to slide down his body as he sat up, leaning close and whispering. “You’re tense my dear, I promise tonight if you want help with that. I won’t kill you.” Her face flushed as she quickly scrambled away from him.

[dadrunkwriting]

Hello writers!

As I was going through the active / in-active housekeeping for Team NA (Americas, Asia, Australia), I was thinking of all the wonderful people who has been writing for Dragon Age Drunk Writing Circle over the years. So I decided to tag you all (including trying to find any changed blognames, lmk if I got it wrong).

Drop a comment and say hi, and let us know how you’re doing. Maybe you want to rejoin us, and hopefully we will see you back for DA4! 💚💚💚💚💚 

@5ftgarden @a-kitten-made-of-corduroy @alchera @alleiradayne @alxxiiswrites @aly-the-writer @amata-hawke @whats-amata-you @andrasteshaircurlers @apostatetabriswrites @eyeofmud @ariannadi @arilalavellan @ashetrashe @allaganexarch @asoulonfire @athenril-of-kirkwall @bearly-tolerable @bearlytolerant @bitchesofostwick @brassdragon0 @buttsonthebeach @bythexdreadwolf @calwyne @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold @sinsbymanka @christophertherobin @citrinefennec @dankgemestho @dartheames @dawnofakatosh @dharma-writes @dickeybbqpit @dirthenera @dismalzelenka @distractthegoddess @dorianofminrathous @dragonifyoudare @dragynfox @elevanetheirin @ellstersmash @eradikater @everestv-themuse @evesharmony @fadekhat-blog @fadetouchedmind @fatale-distraction @fenfelassan @fenharel-em-halam @findsarahh @fourletterepithet @funkypoacher @goblin-deity @impossible-rat-babies @griiffn @guileandgall @hunnybadgerv @haloneshiral @harbinger-of-whimsy @havesomedragonage @houseofaustrich @idrelle @inquisadaartabras @ithun @joufancyhuh @kaoruyogi @katalyna-rose @kierarutherford @kimpossibility @kimpossibility-blog1 @kittlesandbugs @kvpowers @ladydracarysao3 @ladydragon1316 @ladylike-foxes @lauraemoriarty @lavellanlove @long-liv-prairies @love-in-nature @luciferesque @lyrium-lovesong @morgalahan @myshadydreamland @myshadydreamland-blog @mythalsknickers @nerdanel01 @nocturna-morte @noswordstyle @nug-juggler @hexcore-juggler @paravox3 @pedlimwen @pikapeppa @pookamaluka @randomnonsensedragonage @rawrzimon @redinkofshame @right-in-the-vhenan @roguelioness @roksanalyasin @royalfreckles @rue332 @rue332-blog @salexectria @saras-almanac @sasshole-for-rent @seigephoenix @shift-shaping @silent-of-spirit @slothabed @writingnodule @jellydishes @solverne-02 @starkhavn @taliaferros @sulevinblade @suzumicchi @sharkgnawed @sylveonne @talesfromthefade @teiranlavellan @tel-abelas-mofo @keturagh @theaiobhan @theneras-la-lath @therealmnemo @theweepingstar @veorlian @veridium-bye @nycheia @whosafraidofthebigbaddreadwolf @wrenbee @youaremynewdream @zolanhras

[mythalsknickers]

“Go with me?” “As long as you hold my hand.” For DA DWC for any pairing you wish! :D :D

Title: In the Darkest HourPairing: Cullen x Drysi AmellRating: TWord Count: 1329Warning/Tags: Not Inquisitor Character, Blood Magic Mention, Hawke does not die, or LoghainCC: @dadrunkwriting

This was honestly very interesting to write, I thought it was going to be sweet and fluffy. But Adamant seemed to be the one that needed to be written. I could not kill off my Hawke or Loghain. I hope you enjoy this.

Adamant. She had never thought she would get to see the fortress. After all, why would she ever need to go to the Western Approach?  Drysi clenched her hands as rocks slammed into the walls of the fortress. Sucking in a breath Drysi outstretched her hands, watching them shake.

“Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and do not falter.” She could feel it as the fade struggled under the assault. Blood Magic. Her hands tensed, she was forcing the shaking to go away. Taking a deep breath she pulled on the magic, willing it to knit this soldier’s skin together.

One by one, sometimes more then she could count the wounded were brought it. This she could handle, killing men she knew though, or knew of that was worse than facing another blight.  Her body ached, craving just a drop from the blue vials on her belt. She had her limit any more, and she ran the risk of her magic depleting too fast. Reaching up to her neck,  her hand wrapped around the amulet. Her eyes closed with worry. Cullen. He was a brilliant tactician, and he and Loghain had both gone over the strategy thousands of times. It didn’t stop the worry that clung to her.

“Commander Amell!” Her heart froze, and as her eyes snapped open, they were as hard as ice. A scout stood at the edge of the tent seeming to try and pick her out. Glancing at the other healers she quickly beckoned one to her wounded.  Grabbing her grimoire from the table she quickly fastened it to her belt, followed by her staff being slung across her back.

Her strides were long as she quickly weaved through the nurses, healers, and surgeons. Reaching the edge of the tent she looked up at the scout. It had been enough time for Drysi Amell, Healer to be replaced with the Commander of the Grey. Taking a breath she met his eyes.

“Report!” it was familiar, a habit that had developed during the blight, and then during the Darkspawn incursions in Amaranthine.

“Commander Rutherford and Inquisitor Lavellan ask for you at the front… Sir! er Ma’am…er Serah…My Lady!” The poor scout, he couldn’t decide on a title. Shaking her head she sighed.

“Sir is fine, Commander is easier. Are you to escort me?” She tilted her head, short dark waves of hair covering one icy eye rather rebelliously. Cullen was alive. Thank Andraste’s Blessed Fire and the Maker.

“No Commander, Commander Rutherford is waiting at the Fortress.” She nodded, slipping her gloves on. As she walked past the scout she patted him on the shoulder.

Each step brought her closer to the inevitable truth. The Order had gone too far.  They had kept secrets from the most senior members, allowed a single vulnerability to the order go unchecked for maker knows how many years, and now this. As Adamant loomed over her little more than smoking ruins. Drysi knew in her heart, she could no longer in good conscious call herself or her men Grey Wardens. Everything they had stood for; gone because they played themselves into this hand.

Soldiers and Scouts alike jogged in and out of the Fortress, many carrying wounded.  Stepping around the siege equipment and the remains of ancient walls.  She spotted him, hand resting on his sword, golden hair well beyond being tamed and his red mantle. Her lips pulled at a slight smile.

“Cullen!” she called walking over to him, it was informal but all of Skyhold knew they well were something more then friends. At her call, he stopped issuing orders and jogged over to her.  There was no hesitation as he pulled her into his arms. Drysi clung to him, it only lasted a moment but it was enough.

“Drysi, the Inquisitor, is asking for a Senior Warden. The surviving Grey Wardens have no one to turn to. She is also asking your recommendation on what to do with the order.” He was apologizing, she could hear it in his tone of voice and see it in his eyes.

“I understand.” she gave a firm nod, so it fell to her. While Loghain held a senior rank here…she was a Commander of the Grey.  She was the only one who could say with definitive authority what to do with these wardens. “Go with me?” she tilted her head hoping he would.“As long as you hold my hand, my lady.”  He offered her hand, and she gave him no hesitation. Taking his hand, she let him lead her through the ruined keep. As they walked a quiet hush fell over the Wardens. They knew she had their fate in her hands, her uniform, her scars told them exactly who she was. The Hero of Ferelden.  Veteran of the Fifth Blight, Vanquisher of the Archdemon Urthemiel. Titles she knew by heart.Letting go of Cullen’s hand she stepped onto the dais with the Inquisitor, gesturing for her to turn away from the crowd. They spoke privately. She needed to address them. They were terrified, they believed they failed, this defeat had shattered their resolve. As they turned back towards the crowd she shook the Inquisitor’s hand with a smile.“In war victory, in peace vigilance, in death sacrifice.” She licked her lips looking over the crowd of mages and the few warriors who had survived. She barely caught Loghain’s reassuring smile. “A wise woman, once told me we are not just standing vigilant against Darkspawn, but the hubris of magic gone astray. The magic we fight against from the moment of our joining, the Blight. Today we have failed.” The crowd began to murmur and shift and she could see some of the mages beginning to reach for their own grimoires and tomes.“I am not here to cast judgment on the ritual done here,” she announced raising her hands. “I am here as your sister, to make you see reason. It was not just one failure that brought you to this defeat, this miscalculation, this terror, and this false calling you now feel!” She screamed her chest heaving. “I live with it every day, and I am here to tell you The Grey Wardens of Ferelden, have no blighted blood or calling. There is a reason a Warden King sits on Ferelden’s throne unaffected by fighting in the last blight!” The crowd fell silent, awe and curiosity replaced doubt and fear. There was no clattering of plate or jangle of scale mail.

“It was not  Weisshaupt that found this cure. It was Wiesshaupt that kept Corypheus a secret, it was Wiesshaupt who fell silent. We were failed by the very order we pledged our lives to!” She turned to the Inquisitor giving a soft smile.  “I humbly recommend Lady Inquisitor, that the Grey Wardens of Orlais be absorbed into the ranks of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden. Under my command to be reformed into a new order to protect against the blight with a modified joining.”The silence hung through the air, and tensions mounted. She could see it in the Wardens, they were worried, some doubted her. However, they wanted to know what the Inquisitor would allow. “I will permit this Commander Amell, however for the time being it will be with Inquisition supervision.” She smiled as the wardens all seemed relieved. 

It was one battle. She turned smiling at Cullen stepping down to him. With him at her side, she could face it all. As she wrapped her arms around Cullen’s neck, the fade tore another rift opened and behind them. A bloodied Carys Hawke stumbled out the rift.“What’d I miss?” She staggered, holding her broken staff in her hand. “Oof! Varric!” the woman cried as the dwarf barreled into. Only her cousin.

“I am never going to escape your Cousin am I?” she smiled at Cullen and shook her head. No, he wouldn’t Amells stuck together through everything.

[mythalsknickers]

For the DADWC: "things you said when you were scared," with the pairing of your choice!

Here is a bit of Sollavellan for you, I had this in the works, and it was going to start out cute but then took a dive for the angst.

CC: @dadrunkwriting

Skyhold, an abandoned fortress, if it were not for the unwashed masses of the Inquisition. It was the first time in days they would sleep soundly and peacefully.  Slowly, the door from her quarters was pushed open. Sliding past it Fen’aslan eased out into the shambled halls, broken timbers, and crumbled masonry. Despite the light chainmail and leather tunic she wore, her steps were almost soundless.

One thing weighed heavily on her mind. It was something only Cullen, Josephine, and Leliana had been let in on. Looking up at the balcony she felt her eyes water, she had made Dorian swear to never reveal what they saw to the others.  

The red future is what they called it. Her eyes stung as tears slipped down staining her cheeks.  It had been more than that; there had been no future.

Her steps fumbled along disturbing the silence, kicking chunks of masonry, and bits of timbers. Fen’aslan barely caught the glow being emitted from the cracks under the door.  At that moment, her breath caught,  she was back there.

There where the world burned and lyrium sang darkly to her.  Demons bursting forth, all that kept her and Dorian safe had been a barrier, one of Solas’.  Panic had frozen her when the doors were thrown open.

Sorrow overwhelmed her and she sank down on a pile of rubble. It was the nightmare that kept her awake at night, Solas dying and she could do nothing but watch. A sob tore at her throat like angry claws. She was trying to be quiet. All she wanted was to sneak away and paint, try to get to where she could get everything out.

“Lethallan?”  She barely looked up, when had the door to the rotunda opened.  Fen’aslan could barely make out his surprise, the way his brows drew together, his lips pulled into a frown. She tried to find words to explain, to put her mask back into place.

Tears still fell, and she couldn’t meet his eyes. It hurt too much, and the icy hands of despair sank in deep. Her tears fell onto the rubble.  His steps were quiet as he made his way up to her. Her brows knitted, he was alive, splatted in splashes of color clinging to a dusky mud. What had he been doing?

“Lethallan, come with me please?” His hand reached out for her’s and there was a hint of a smile like he was planning something. She was unguarded, there was no chance of her even wanting to say no. Taking his hand, she carefully stood up. “Why are you up and about so late?”

She canted her head at his question worrying her lip for a moment.

“I couldn’t sleep, I was going to paint some of the columns in the garden.” she offered, her voice barely above a whisper, scratching at her throat from her crying. They were walking toward the Rotunda, and he let go of her hand giving a hint of a smirk.

“Just a moment Lethallan, I need to grab some items, then we can go somewhere more exciting.” he left her at the doorway while he dived back behind the door. Just as quickly as he had disappeared, he was back at her side with a bucket that had a thick cloth over it. Her brow knitted as he offered his hand to her.

“Would you like to learn a different medium?” She blinked at the offer, a different medium for painting. She licked her lips and gave a bit of a nod.

“I could use something to occupy my mind lethallin.” she gave a slight smile, not forced just timid. They left the main hall, they were going up to her quarters, that were too large. Solas dropped her hand seeming to look around.

“How long have you been having trouble sleeping?” she glanced at him as he touched the walls almost like he was greeting an old friend. Sighing she put her bag on the couch.

“Since Redcliffe.” she offered quietly pulling out a thin book full of blank vellum. “Well, the second time, when we captured Alexius.” She carried the book over to her nightstand setting it down.

“That is quite the time Fen’aslan.” he offered. His eyes weren’t judgemental, just concerned.

“Now this will require that indomitable focus of yours.” he teased, and she giggled, shaking her head.

“Tonight we will lay the first layer. It doesn’t have to be perfect, the idea is to lay it down, leave it coarse for the next layer.” She raised her eyebrow as he uncovered the bucket and it was a wet almost ashen looking mud.

“What exactly are you teaching me Solas?” she was curious; strolling over to him, balanced carefully on her toes, almost dancing… Standing behind him, his chuckle was warm, it melted the pit of ice that had slowly formed in her since Redcliffe.

“The medium is called Fresco, the style I am going to teach you,” he paused, smiling at her for just a moment. “dates to just before Arlathan’s fall.” pulling out a trowel he offered it to her. She stepped up in front of him, taking it.  She listened to him as he told her more about it. His hand wrapped around hers;  they were rough, but gentle and warm, his hands always seemed warmer than hers.

Each sweep of the trowel, a little more plaster over the wall. Eventually, it was gone, she and Solas were inside the chantry. She followed him, curious where this was going, how they were in the chantry in Haven.

“I watched over you while you slept, studying the mark. I ran every test, searched the fade.” he bowed his head for a moment before continuing. “Cassandra suspected I was assisting you in hiding the origin of the mark and threatened to have me executed if I did not produce her desired results.” There was just the barest hint of a smirk, he seemed more open.

“That is just how Cassandra tells you she cares.” she offered with a light-hearted smile. Solas gave a warm chuckle and nodded as they left the chantry.

“Yes, you were never going to wake. You were fading by the minute. A mortal sent physically through the Fade, it was too much on you.” He spun around as they stopped at the stairs. “As much as I wished to help, I had no faith in Cassandra, and she didn’t have faith in me. I was ready to flee.” She stepped towards him curiously.

“Where would you have gone, the breach threatened the world?” There was no place that was safe for long.  He gave a nod his eyes focused intently on her.

“Someplace far away, where I could research in peace before the effects reached me.” There it was, a smirk that weakened her knees, how was he so sure of himself?   “I never said it was a good plan.” This was a side she had never seen before

“I told myself one last attempt. No ordinary magic would affect them.” he sighed, holding his hand to the breach. “I resigned myself to flee, and then…” everything around her changed and she could see Solas pressing her marked hand to the rift. “It seems you hold the key to healing the veil. You had sealed it with a gesture…”He paused licking his lips. “I felt the whole world change.” She took a step closer resting a hand on her hip.

“Felt the whole world change?” she tilted her head, copper curls falling into her opaline eyes as he smiled, cocking his head towards her.

“A figure of speech.” he offered. There was no way to describe the warmth in his eyes, they sent a jolt of desire through her, kindling her own passions something she hoped he was feeling.

“I am aware, I am more interested in felt.” she offered as she closed the distance, they weren’t touching but she wanted to… she wanted to kiss him.

“You change…everything.” his voice had gotten rougher, full of emotion.  It was impulsive but she quickly stepped forward, turning his head to steal a kiss.

The dread wolf could take her.

Life was too short to not risk this one thing. As she pulled back he followed her pulling her forward, she straddled his thigh as he kissed her, instead of her quick kiss, this was heated, he leaned her back pressing his leg up; she moaned silently into the kiss. As they parted, she held onto him, smiling as he shook his head leaning down to give her another kiss. It was quick and heated.

“We shouldn’t.” he slowly pulled away from her reluctantly out of breath. “It isn’t right, not even here.” his smile was cocky a bit smug, wait what did he know. Her heart racing Fen’aslan looked around…

“What do you mean “not even here”?” she asked him raising a brow as he smiled with a little head shake.

“Where’d you think we were?” he asked and just then the barest shimmer in the fade, something was shifting, or maybe she was shifting it.

“This isn’t real.” She could see it now the pieces of memories making up the dream around them, and the careful snowflakes that danced between them.

“That is a matter of debate…” he paused with a mischevious grin shrugging his shoulders. “Probably best discussed after you wake up.” Those eyes had teased her.

With no ability to react she jolted upright in her bed flushed her chainmail clinging to her, but next to her bed the drying first layer of plaster….

“Oh dread wolf just take me already.” she groaned. On her nightstand, her sketchbook was open to a small wolf huddled up against the statue of a large wolf. It was not one of her sketches. There was a small note at the corner.

Fen’aslan, I can not fathom what you saw in the alternate timeline,  Arasha, know you do not have to bare all of this alone.

Solas

Smiling she rubbed her eyes biting her lip looking over at the plaster before laying back down.  He wanted a discussion… she hummed to herself.

[mythalsknickers]

TITLE: Vir'sul El'u Eolas RATING: Mature PAIRING: Fen’aslan x Solas (Sollavellan) TAGS: Post Corypheus, Post Trespasser DLC, Magical Amputation, Body Horror,  Flashbacks, Liberal use of Magic, Liberal use of  Elvhen, Magical Healing, Spirits are overpowered Link for AO3

This started out as a DADWC writing prompt, however, it quickly escalated into a full-fledged fic that demanded its own part of my canon universe. Reblogs, are always appreciated. As well as kudos and comments.

There was no pain; just a sudden nothing where her forearm should have been, and he was leaving. Walking away as if he hadn’t done that, as if it meant nothing to him.

As if she meant nothing to him.

Fen’aslan tried to stand up, stumbling forward in the numbness of system shock, crying out as her knees gave way and connected with the ancient stones that made up the broken, cobbled path. Panic seized her, keeping her from sobbing by stealing the breath she would have used as she realized she didn’t have the strength to keep herself upright let alone make it to the eluvian.

“Ma Vhenan!”

Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears, full of anguish and pain she didn’t yet feel. He paused, turning just barely towards her. “Don’t, Solas! Don’t leave me, ma vhenan!” she begged, standing up on legs that felt like withered branches, liable to snap at any given moment. Without thinking, she pulled on the fade with her right hand. It was only natural; their most tender moments, the moments of greatest intimacy, had been in the fade. The mist began to form around her as she took a single, shaky step forward. A breath later, she disappeared into the fade, hoping with her aching heart that it would work, that it would distract him just enough for her to catch him.

She strolled through the doors of the Exalted Council, her bare toes and heels soundless against the mirror-like tile, light robes swishing against her legs with a faint whisper, like the summer breeze through the grass. Her passage through the crowds was marked only by the quiet jingling of the six tiny leaves adorning her collar and the quiet hush she left in her wake. On the Dias, Arl Tegan and the Orlaisian continued their heated debate around the Divine in ignorance, unaware of how rudely they were about to be interrupted.

That thought almost made Fen’aslan smile, but the book in her hands kept her thoughts anchored on the moment.

“The Herald of Andraste,” a woman whispered, reaching out to touch her like she was their savior. She wasn’t, though, and before she could react, the man next to the woman snatched her hand back.

“It is a Rabbit, Woman!” he hissed through his teeth. “She was not sent by Blessed Andraste! More likely one of the demons her people worship.” He spat towards her as she passed him, but he may as well been invisible for all the attention she paid him.

As Fen’aslan became visible to her former advisors, she could see Josephine’s aggravation melt into relief and smugness radiate from the Divine’s smile. Her plan had been shared, then. Good, this would not surprise Leliana. The effects of her sudden appearance effectively pulled the two lords from their argument, just as she hoped it would. She wanted their undivided attention.

“You all know what this is!” She raised the book above her head as she took the final steps toward the Dias, her voice ringing out in the newborn silence the way her footsteps hadn’t. Defiantly, she faced the men who would put her organization under their sway, who were even now attempting to position themselves as Judge, Jury, and Executioner over the ones whose strength had revealed their shortcomings. As Inquisitor, it was Fen’aslan’s place to pass and enact justice, not theirs.

Behind her, the crowd waited with bated breath for her next words. No one spoke, not even the man who had spit at her, and not a single rustle of fine silks hinted that anyone was stirring. They were all either enthralled with her brazen declaration or - more likely - frozen by her audacity. It was time to find out. Exhaling, she spun on her heel to face them.

“This is a writ from Divine Justinia, authorizing the formation of the Inquisition.” The sea of silent faces, both masked and not masked, raised their eyes to the book clearly visible in her hands, and she flipped open the cover showing the distinctive ink of the blood-red eye staining the parchment. “We pledged to close the breach, to find those responsible, and to restore order - with or without approval.” She turned her head slightly towards Arl Tegan, catching Cassandra’s smirk and nod of approval.

The silence held; no one dared do anything but breathe, afraid to break the tension that drew every eye to her. Fen’aslan drew in another breath to steady herself, torn between the fluttering uncertainty in her belly and the wild exultation howling in her blood. Would he be proud of her in this moment, her love? She discarded the thought to continue with her plan.

“It was not a formalized treaty that saved Ferelden or her people,” she declared, turning to hurl the words directly at Arl Tegan. Oh, how smug he looked. “The Inquisition saved them when you could not. We will not disband for you.”

She could hear a squeak as the Arl sat back in his chair, too stunned for a moment to form words. His expression said it all for her - how dare she have the gall? She clenched her jaw, keeping her smile trapped behind her teeth. She was a wolf among the sheep who thought they could tame her. Stepping along the Dias with the sharp grace of a sword slicing through the air, she moved so she was directly in front of the masked Orlaisian.

“The Inquisition will not submit to an Empress who failed to end your inane civil war, and only keeps her throne because of Inquisition support!” It spoke volumes that Celene, Gaspard, and Briala had not attended these talks and instead, sent this Lord who was not important enough for her to remember his name. The Arl had presented more of a threat, but she was done with both of these sheep now.

The silence tore with the soft sound of gasps ripped from the throats of Orlaisian women. With that intangible protection broken, men put hands on their swords and yelled, their voices colliding in the air and forming a single incoherent jumble of sound. It did not matter; she knew every insult they threw at her, but they shattered against the armor of her indifference.

“This was never just an organization!” Fen’aslan declared when the volley of words ended. “It is about people doing what is necessary. We will continue to support you as we have done in the past.” Her eyes finally met Leliana’s as the Divine bowed her head in quiet approval. “There is worse coming than anything you’ve yet seen. We will not be rendered defenseless and riddled with the bureaucracy and the so-called politics of The Game. The Inquisitions will bow - but it will not be to either of you. Now excuse me.” Her tone turned the plea into a command of respect and authority, her robes once more whispering against her legs as she strolled away from the Dais “I need to save the world again.” She thrust the book towards Josephine, giving her little time to collect it as she passed. “I will see you at Skyhold.”

Like a wolf returning from a successful hunt, she prowled through the divided crowd, gliding through the room while gasps of outrage and protests lapped at her. How dare a blasphemous Rabbit and the supposed herald of Andraste voice such insolence to her betters! She ignored it all, chin high, unable to hide her smirk. It wouldn’t be more than a handful of breaths before the muttering erupted into a storm of shouting - but she would be gone before that happened. Throwing open the doors to the chamber, she grabbed her staff from a page and handed the boy a Caprice coin. Then, with the doors swinging shut, she smiled at the mutters rising into furious protests. A muffled boom behind her was the doors closing, silencing the storm as it broke.

As she materialized out of the fade, she could see the eluvian starting to darken and she quickly pushed herself through. How dare he try to shut her out again! Once she’d stumbled forward into the crossroads, however, she couldn’t see him.

“Solas! Tel’tuaun min ea el’u i em!” She could see the mirror closing behind her as she moved away from it, and for a split second, she wanted to jump through – but she continued, away from home, away from a guaranteed future. “Lasa em’an dirth ma’lath,” she begged. They needed to talk. Each mirror she passed, she sketched and made a note of it in relation to her path. “Ma tel’isala dina sul min! Tamahn emen to ea vir!” She cried out to the emptiness, but there was no answer and she sank down to the ground, her eyes slipping closed. “Fen’aslan ma ane a felasil Fen’harel.” Tears staining her cheeks, her body beginning to shake as she curled forward, she sobbed. He had left her again.

“Ma ane las, Da’lan.”

She opened her bleary eyes at the unfamiliar voice, noting the vallaslin on an equally unfamiliar face. It was her own – Fen’harel’s eyes was what her clan named it. “Ma ane isa ghi’la,” the elvhen asserted, crouching down. “Ar ame Rashale. Las, ma ane naim; ar juhalani ma vena mar sal.” He offered his hand and she took it, standing with his help and letting him lead her over to a mirror. “Fen’harel Enasanal,” he spoke. The mirror sprang to life, and he pulled her through it.

“Rashale?” she glanced at him, and he turned back. “Do you understand me?” She asked in the common language. At his nod, she continued. “Can you speak like this?” Again he nodded, and her shoulders relaxed. “Where are we?”

“The ones who raise you call it the Tirashan,” he replied as he led her into the temple. “This was where Mythal sent you to protect you from the Veil going up.” He watched her as she ran her over the wards on the temple walls, tracing their shapes. As soon as she removed her hand, energy pulsed through them. “Temple of the Hoping Moon,” he offered as he guided her deeper into the temple. Statues of two wolves appeared everywhere.

It had been a week since she went into the Eluvian after Solas, a week since Rashale had found her and took her to this temple. If Rashale was to be believed, it had apparently been created for her. She wasn’t sure she believed any of what he’d told her, honestly. He claimed that she was as old as Solas - or rather, her soul was, and she had been put into uthenera sometime during the slave rebellion. She frowned as she wandered the moss- and vine-covered floors, letting her bare feet pick their own path while she mulled over this information.

As she walked, she reached out with her remaining hand, touching the faded mosaic wall absently. Ambient magic pulsed through the tiles as her fingers ghosted over them, strands of vivid green arcing along certain tiles, lighting them up. That caught her attention and she stared at the wall, walking back a few steps to see the design.

It was the dread wolf.

The green magic changed; this time, it was purple, and she watched as a dragon took shape. Her lips parted as the color changed to a pale silver to make the last image in the mosaic: a moon's glow lighting up a white wolf ahead of the dread wolf.

“I wondered, Las, how long it would take you to find this.”

Looking around, she couldn’t see anyone, but the voice almost sounded like-

Her eyes locked with the dragon. “Mythal?”

She watched in awe as the dragon turned its mosaic head to her. “Well done, young one. You have come a long way since we last met.”

Her brow furrowed; the sentinels had told her Mythal was dead.

“I am a fragment, placed here once you were ready for everything. I am dead, child. We both know I can not help your wolf on his path.”

She drifted forward a few steps until she could reach out and touch the moon. “I am supposed to be his guide,” she whispered before looking at the dragon. “How, though? I am not even sure any of this happened.” Exasperated, she rubbed her hand over her face.

“How did the wolf claim to known things? That path is open to you...and it is time you learn to hunt.”

An orange glow began to appear along the dragon’s throat. As it opened its mouth, mosaic flames shot out but left the wall to smash into her chest, making her scream. The dragon closed its mouth as she pulled her hand back to touch her robe-covered chest, but there was no burn. The sudden sensation that she had swallowed the fire made her drop to the ground, gasping, trying to breathe past the phantom flames in her throat.

“Child, I have nudged history and shoved it. You are being melodramatic. Take what is yours; you are Elvhen, and kin, and would be gods just like your wolf; act like it!”

At the words, a fit of burning anger formed in her stomach and for the first time since the loss of her forearm, she reached out with her left hand. Ignoring that her hand wasn’t there, she attempted to pull the fade. Magic began to course around her, creeping along what was left of her arm after her forearm had been disintegrated, sickly green magic of the fade beginning to burst through the scars and drawing a scream from her throat. Her knees threatened to buckle from the sudden influx of pain in her arm and tears streamed freely from her eyes, her skin starting to tingle as the veil strained against her crude pulling. The sickly green magic traveled up her arm, skin smoking in its wake as the scars ripped open, the wounds cauterized before even a single drop of blood could drip onto the stone floor. Blindly, she staggered forward, away from the mosaic, feeling draconic eyes watching her with interest.

Clenching her jaw, she reached out with her missing hand, her weak legs causing her to sway dangerously. The anchor spread further with each faltering step she took. As she pulled on the fade, she could feel it begin to tremble around her. Her eyes went to her vestigial arm, which was beginning to ooze green fade-magic, and a hollow laugh burst out of her. This not-even-formed plan of hers was working? It was hard to believe, but the smoking grew worse with each tremor of the fade as more and more of the ooze came bleeding out.

The fade trembled and quaked under her assault, and the anchor began to spread past her arm. Each inch it crawled - sometimes leaped - over her skin, she could feel it trying to claw her apart. A scream tore from her throat but it echoed off the stone oddly, the sound warping until to her ears, it sounded like a howl. Hunching forward, she continued to stagger down the hallway, her nose filled with the smell of burning flesh. The fade was bleeding into the temple; she stared at a distant image of Solas removing his vallaslin from her face and her right hand tightened into an angry fist. She had been blind, so blind, so many signs that he had been hiding something and she hadn’t seen them.

She tore her eyes away from the memory, her heart aching because, despite everything, she still loved him. “Ma vhenan.” she whispered, her voice rough.

Something deeper in the temple called to her, and she struggled to continue her journey towards it. Bit by bit, the oozing, burning, green magic of the fade was forming the shape of her missing forearm. Her foot hooked a branch as she approached a door frame and sent her stumbling forward, her right hand catching one side of the frame as her shoulder slammed into the ancient stone of the other side. Leaning against it, she tried desperately to slow her frantic breathing. Each pull, each spasm of the fade left her feeling emptier than the last, and the pain still tore at the fabric of her very being.

As she stared at the remnants of her forearm, she pushed off the door frame and staggered into the room. In the center was a massive statue of two wolves nestled together. The shock of seeing what could only be her and Solas made her legs give out, her next pull on the fade purely reflexive as her knees collided with the overgrown tiles. He had to know what was happening, had to know what she was doing. If he didn’t, he either was not even looking at the fade or...well, she couldn’t think past the pain to figure out an ‘or’. Fen’aslan half expected his footsteps to echo towards her down the hallway she’d followed, and she could almost hear him calling her name. Tears trailed down her cheeks, and she closed her eyes.

It was nightfall when she opened her eyes again, one of them the sickly green of the fade. There had been no rest, no dreams for her. Breathing heavily, she stood up, her copper hair torn loose from its braid, and reached out with her left arm. There were still many missing pieces, and with soft exhale she attempted again to pull the fade, to tear the veil. She would have her arm back. Sweat dripped down from her forehead as she strained, splattering onto the tile. Another piece slipped through the fade, but there was not enough time to pull the rest of her arm through before something reached out and slammed into her.

Fen’aslan went flying backward, her head cracking against the wall as she hit it and crumpled to the floor. It felt like an eternity before she was aware of a groan slipping past her lips. Again she opened her eyes, but this time her green eye was met with a blue eye. The burning, clawing heat of the mosaic warred with the creeping chill of the glyphs as she climbed to her feet and realized she’d come face to face with herself.

A mirror.

“Inquisitor, you promised a price.”

Her eyes widened. The glyphs tightened on her face, attempting to spread to the left side. Another scream tore from her throat as the two ancient magics warred over her. The anchor pulsed angrily, and the only warning of it attempting open was the distinctively sickening popping noise. Her knees almost gave out again, every bit of her body aching and burning, leaving the fade scarred and bleeding even more heavily into the temple. It had already saturated the room, she realized as she looked up. There was no ceiling anymore, just the twin silver moons.

“Give in, Fen’aslan. This is our destiny: to serve the well. Fen’harel’s magic will kill us.”

Her mirror self spoke in a mocking voice, attempting to soothe her. Her reflection’s left hand was missing and her face was filled with unending sorrow and anguish, branded with the glyphs of the Well. Fen’aslan forced herself to keep her feet as she stepped away from the wall, her breathing heavy and ragged. Anger burned brighter than a star as the anchor flared along her left side, tearing into her further. Lighting, manifestations of her anger and pain, struck around the mirror.

“No,” she growled, her body shaking with her fury, and something began to change. The anchor had once been Fen’harel’s, but now she was making it was hers. It had been hers to claim all along. Slowly, at the tips of her sickly green fingers, silver magic began to emerge, spreading and clawing for each inch as it crept up her arm. The anchor fought back with violent pulses of magic that further assaulted the fade and clawed at her.

“Accept it, Inquisitor, and stop fighting. You will always be what you are now. Come home.”

She stared at the mirror, her heart hammering in her chest. Something in that phase had caused panic to seize her. Her left hand clenched into a fist as silver magic continued to bleed up her arm. Reaching out, she raised both her hands, attempting to pull the ceiling down on her mirror, only to stare in horrified when nothing happened; the mirror still stood in front of her and the ceiling remained intact.

“I told you, Inquisitor, you need to stop fighting this. You will never survive.” The image of herself in the mirror laughed. A wave appeared behind it, and the realization hit her: the woman in the Well had been her. Then the wave surged forward, smashing into her and tossing her back into the wall.

“I..I will never surrender…” As she struggled to stand up, ice spread from her feet, slowly creeping forward and freezing what it touched. Another wave smashed into her, trying to slide her back into the wall, but the ice held and her jaw tightened. Silver magic began to arc and hiss as it slowly overtook the green fade energy, bit by bit. It mended the skin that had torn, pulling her flesh together and quenching the burning pain. Slowly the green bled from her opaline eye, leaving only blue. She turned her gaze to the ceiling and pulled on it; the rubble tumbled down in a distraction as she began to walk towards the mirror, her legs trembling with each step. “I am no one’s slave. I paid the price of the well, now yield to me!” She commanded, throwing all of her strength into it. Every fiber of her body begged her to relent, to surrender to exhaustion.

The mirror shook violently as lightning began to arc between them. “We will not be commanded by a girl so foolish that she took what was not hers twice and would not pay the price!” Another wave began to raise up. “You will relent; in the end, they all do. Become what you are, child. It will not hurt, and you can rest.” The soothing mocking was back, each word casting a grapple of fade energy to entangle Fen’aslan.

This time, her anger was more precise, the lightning arcing around the mirror to entrap it. Each breath was focused on the glyphs, and her vision went black for a moment before she spoke.

“You dare command me?” Her voice was different to her ears; something had changed. The howl of a wolf echoed from somewhere as the two statues stepped off their base and began circling the mirror. “I am one Mythal calls kin. You will yield and become mine!”

Her magic lashed out towards the mirror as her skin began to ache and burn from the grapple she had been tangled in. Turning her eyes away from the mirror, she raised her now-silver magical hand toward the grapple, letting one finger claw at the grapple until it released her. The glyphs on her face began to change, silver magical energy coursing through them, turning both her eyes into pools of moonlight as another howl echoed through the room. Lightning flashed, the stone wolves growling before launching at the mirror. They savaged it with fang and claw and soon, silver magic began to ooze from it as it bled back to her. The Vir’abelsan had become hers; the mirror dissolved, and she could feel the voices fade from her mind.

Her knees buckled as exhaustion overtook her, silver eyes fading back into their normal, opaline mauve. The statues of the wolves were back on the base, nestled together as they had been, and as she kneeled there on the ground, Fen’aslan began laughing. Another voice joined her in laughing as the careful steps of armored boots approached, and when she looked up, there was Mythal.

“Well done, girl.” The woman’s amber eyes truly did seem pleased with her. “Now you can learn how to help him.” Mythal nodded, her lips curved into a slight smile. “Help him before he can no longer be helped, daughter.”

The warning chilled her. The goddess disappeared, the fade becoming less saturated in the room with each passing moment, and Fen’aslan staggered up onto her feet. She stared at her new arm admiring, magical energy substituting for the flesh that had been lost. Then a yawn distracted her, and she rubbed her eyes. Her body was exhausted and she could feel her stomach beginning to rumble and cramp with an increasingly-desperate need to find food. She needed to find Rashale. How long had she been in the fade?

As she hobbled out of the room, she noticed that the temple seemed to be repaired: the overgrowth was gone, the walls clean, the floors smooth with no ragged edges to catch her feet. She paused as she passed the mosaic and noticed the dragon’s absence. Was…it just a dream, she wondered? A glance at her left hand dispelled that; it was neither flesh nor missing, but a construct of her magic. It couldn’t have been a dream. Frowning, Fen’aslan limped gingerly out of the hallway and into the main thoroughfare of the temple.

“Las!” she jolted alert, her magic suddenly flaring to life at the sound of her name. Rashale seemed to appear out of nowhere, jogging up to her. “Thank Mythal I have found you.” His brows raised as he noticed her left hand, and he bowed. “My lady, pardon me. I was merely worried for you; you have been gone from the temple for a week,” he said, his voice formal and respectful.

“A week. I thought…” she whispered. She thought it had been less. Gone from the temple…Had she physically gone into the fade again? “Rashale, please. I am not a lady, and there is nothing to pardon.”

He shook his head firmly at her in disagreement. “You are a lady; your spirit has changed. You have found yourself, my lady.” It was his only explanation and while it was not enough for her, she was too hungry and too tired to worry about it for now. She yawned, swaying on her feet.

“My lady? Do you need refreshments?”

She stared at Rashale, blinking for a moment before his words finally made sense. Yawning again, she nodded. He offered his arm and, reluctantly, she took it and let him lead her to the kitchens.

The kitchens were rather large for the small temple. Carefully, Fen’aslan made her way around with a plate, gathering bits of fruits, jerkies and candied meats, hardened cheeses, and an glass of some kind of drink that smelled a bit like the wine Solas had introduced her to in Orlais. Lacking any sort of table or chair, she climbed up onto the counter where she perched with her plate of snacks, eating her fill and quenching her thirst. After her meal, she quietly made her way to her room.

Once the doors had shut behind her she looked around, closing her eye and trying to prepare herself. “Two weeks since I have dreamed…” she whispered to herself, wrapping her arms around her torso and squeezing in attempts to reassure herself. She made her tired way over to the bed and lay down, curling under the blankets, slowly letting herself drift off into the fade.

“Vhenan.” The word summoned her, and she found herself face to face with him. “Where are you?”

She stood up, and the images around them changed. He was trying to find her. “Where are you, vhenan?” she countered, shifting the fade on her own. “I will find you, vhenan. I told you I would not give up.” Around her, the fade stilled. Arlathan.

“I know you will not, Vhenan…” he seemed reluctant, looking around. “Allow me to show you these before we do not have time?”

She nodded, offering her hand. "Em ghi’lana,” she offered gently as he took her it, squeezing it gently. He lead her through the glass spires of the city and she watched the reflections, seeing multiple images of her and Solas. “In another time…” she smiled fondly; in another time, they had walked these streets just like this.

“Yes, Vhenan,” he added, turning and taking her- left hand? Her brows furrowed. “This is the fade,” he whispered. She realized they were in a grand ballroom just as Solas pressed close to her and began to dance. As they moved over the glass tiles, the room filled with people. “The Evanuris held such parties often. This was the night,” he started before spinning her. “The night everything I cared for was taken from me.” He growled, and the music took a deadly twist as she watched Mythal crumble to the floor. The young dreadwolf stared in horror at his kin, letting go of her. She recognized the figure in his arms. She tried to watch what happened to herself, but the scene focused on Solas lashing out at Elgar’nan.

“Wake up, Vhenan.” He leaned forward sadly and kissed her cheek. As her eyes opened, she sighed looking at the walls.

So it had begun.

Elvhen Translations

•Vir'sul el'u eolas (way to have secret knowledge) •Solas Tel’tuaun min ea el’u i em! (Solas don’t cause this to be a secret with me) •lasa em’an dirth ma’lath. (Let’s talk about it my love) •Ma tel’isala dina sul min! Tamahn emen to ea vir! (You dont need to die for this! There has to be another way!) •Fen’aslan ma ane a felasil Fen’harel. (You are a fool to chase Fen’harel) •Ma ane las. Da’lan. (You are hope. Young one) •Ma ane isa ghi’la. (You are his guide) •Ar ame Rashale. Las ma ane naim, ar juhalani ma vena mar sal. (I am Rashale. Hope you are lost, I will help you find your soul.) •em ghilana (guide me/ show me) •Vhenan (heart)

[mythalsknickers]

Last Line Meme

Tagged by @dirthenera

This is from my rewrite of Chapter one of Ma Ghilan, Ma Nas, Ma las. I am sorry in advance for your souls. This has honestly been giving me the hardest time too.

~~~~~~

“If you can survive the night Da’len you will have proven you are not wolf touched. You have an hour start before the clan sends hunter’s after you.” Dashanna’s eyes had always been so cold that day, it was like looking into hardened ice chips. As her younger self stared at Dashanna in horror. “I suggest you start running Da’len.”

It was sudden; the fade around her began to tremble as the black wolf growled, his blue eyes slowly bleeding into orange, the hair along his back stood up. He barely acknowledged Dashanna but began running after her younger self. Fen’aslan sprinted after them. It was different.

Far too different…

This never happened in the fade. She knew what would happen, her younger self would grab the rope from Fen’harel’s offerings and spend the next two nights in a tree.  She stopped shaking, violent sobs wracked her body. The first night had been waiting out the best of her clan’s hunters. People she had grown up, who taught her how to survive...reluctantly. The second had been Shemlan hunters, some Orlaisian boy who was old enough to hunt Rabbits. He had been horrible with a bow.

~~~~~~

Tagging: @ladylike-foxes and @ocean-in-my-rebel-soul and whoever else wants to do the thing!

[dadrunkwriting]

DWC: Team NA/Aus/Asia Head Count!

Tagged Writers,

Please reply to or reblog this post (with a message, not just tags) by 4:00pm PST/7:00pm EST if you would like to participate tonight!

Writing will ONLY be reblogged if posted after 4pm PST on Fridays!!

Friendly DWC admins: We have a FAQ here, you can also contact any of us with any questions. The admins are @thevikingwoman @galadrieljones @ma-sulevin @ocean-in-my-rebel-soul and @princessvicky01 for European writers.

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

Inactive writers: If you are currently inactive, and would like to go back to be active, please message an admin to move you to the active list. If you missed the post about active / inactive it is here.

Joining DWC: 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. If you have more questions, you can also check out our  FAQ!

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

Thank you! <3

@galadrieljones

@ma-sulevin

@ocean-in-my-rebel-soul

@thevikingwoman

@alxxiiswrites

@amata-hawke

@apostatetabriswrites

@contreparry

@dharma-writes

@dirthenera

@eradikater

@everestv-themuse

@goblin-deity

@joufancyhuh

@ladylike-foxes

@lyrium-lovesong

@midnightprelude

@nilesdaughter

@pikapeppa

@rawrzimon

@redinkofshame

@rileys-nest

@sasshole-for-rent

@talesfromthefade

@tevivinter

@thatdreadbitch

@solas-disapproves

@irlaimsaaralath

@starkhavn

@alxxiiswrites

@mythalsknickers

[dadrunkwriting]

DWC Team NA Update

Hi DWC writers! Our team NA/Asia/Australia writer list have become quite long, and it is time for another round of removal of inactive writers. 

If you want to continue to be an active writer (@ mentioned in head count posts), please confirm by replying or reblogging this post with a message.

We are doing this because having a very long list of usernames makes the head count post un-postable on mobile, and draft kickoff posts cannot be edited on mobile. It is also a lot of work to click all names to make sure they tag, and to remove people who don’t write from the kickoff post (we keep a draft so we don’t have to manage links)

Note that:

This does NOT apply to team Europe

You can ALWAYS come back, we maintain a list of inactive writers and their prompt list links, all you have to do is let an admin know. 

 Both active and inactive writers are welcome in our dwc discord chat

If you are an inactive writer, you can always reply to the head count post and opt in for a single Friday (you just wont be mentioned in it). 

 also note that any dwc writer, active or inactive, are free to post prompt fills even if you missed the head count, just make sure it is within the posting window and tag us. 

thanks, 

mod viking

Again, anyone listed below, please OPT IN if you want to be on the head count list. This post will be reblogged with updated list of names throughout this week. 

@5ftgarden

@dismalzelenka

@houseofaustrich

@rawrzimon

@sulevinblade

@redinkofshame

@kierarutherford

@talesfromthefade

@eradikater

@pikapeppa

@irlaimsaaralath

@funkypoacher

@ashetrashe

@kvpowers

@kimpossibility

@nilesdaughter

@ladylike-foxes

@theweepingstar

@randomnonsensedragonage

@apostatetabris

@sylveonne

@fourletterepithet

@fadetouchedmind

@buttsonthebeach

@teiranlavellan

@contreparry

@griiffn

@christophertherobin

@aly-the-writer

@bythexdreadwolf

@haloneshiral

@veridium-bye

@inquisadaartabras

@a-kitten-made-of-corduroy

@lyrium-lovesong

@zolanhras

@bearly-tolerable

@athenril-of-kirkwall

@citrinefennec

@goblin-deity

@thatdreadbitch

@bitchesofostwick

@luciferesque

@kittlesandbugs

@mythalsknickers

@dickeybbqpit

@littleblue-eyedbird

@dirthenera

@everestv-themuse

@roguelioness

@sasshole-for-rent

@evesharmony

@amata-hawke

@idrelle-miocovani

@pedlimwen

@midnightprelude

@rileys-nest

@thesaltyhealer

@joufancyhuh

@dharma-writes

[dadrunkwriting]

DWC: Team NA/Aus/Asia Head Count!

Tagged Writers,

Please reply to or reblog this post (with a message, not just tags) by 4:00pm PST/7:00pm EST if you would like to participate tonight!

Writing will ONLY be reblogged if posted after 4pm PST on Fridays!!

Friendly DWC admins: We have a FAQ here, you can also contact any of us with any questions. Tonight’s admin is @ma-sulevin (by herself again) and @princessvicky01 for European writers.

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

Inactive writers: If you are currently inactive, and would like to go back to be active, please message an admin to move you to the active list. If you missed the post about active / inactive it is here.

Joining DWC: 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. If you have more questions, you can also check out our  FAQ!

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

Thank you! <3

@galadrieljones

@ma-sulevin

@ocean-in-my-rebel-soul

@thevikingwoman

@alxxiiswrites

@amata-hawke

@apostatetabriswrites

@contreparry

@dharma-writes

@dirthenera

@eradikater

@everestv-themuse

@goblin-deity

@joufancyhuh

@ladylike-foxes

@lyrium-lovesong

@midnightprelude

@nilesdaughter

@pikapeppa

@rawrzimon

@redinkofshame

@rileys-nest

@sasshole-for-rent

@talesfromthefade

@tevivinter

@thatdreadbitch

@solas-disapproves

@irlaimsaaralath

@starkhavn

@alxxiiswrites

@mythalsknickers

[dadrunkwriting]

DWC: Team NA/Aus/Asia Head Count!

Tagged Writers,

Please reply to or reblog this post (with a message, not just tags) by 4:00pm PST/7:00pm EST if you would like to participate tonight!

Writing will ONLY be reblogged if posted after 4pm PST on Fridays!!

Writers! Remember the October Challenge prompt: Ghosts!  Let us see some Thedas Ghost stories! 

Friendly DWC admins: We have a FAQ here, you can also contact any of us with any questions. The admins are @thevikingwoman @galadrieljones @ma-sulevin @5ftgarden @ocean-in-my-rebel-soul and @princessvicky01 for European writers.

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

Inactive writers: If you care currently inactive, and would like to go back to be active, please message an admin to move you to the active list. If you missed the post about active / inactive it is here.

Joining DWC: 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. If you have more questions, you can also check out our  FAQ!

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

Thank you! <3

@thevikingwoman

@5ftgarden

@galadrieljones

@ma-sulevin

@ocean-in-my-rebel-soul

@dismalzelenka

@houseofaustrich

@rawrzimon

@sulevinblade

@redinkofshame

@kierarutherford

@talesfromthefade

@eradikater

@pikapeppa

@irlaimsaaralath

@funkypoacher

@ashetrashe

@kvpowers

@kimpossibility

@nilesdaughter

@ladylike-foxes

@theweepingstar

@randomnonsensedragonage

@apostatetabris

@sylveonne

@fourletterepithet

@fadetouchedmind

@buttsonthebeach

@teiranlavellan

@contreparry

@griiffn

@christophertherobin

@aly-the-writer

@bythexdreadwolf

@haloneshiral

@veridium-bye

@inquisadaartabras

@a-kitten-made-of-corduroy

@lyrium-lovesong

@zolanhras

@bearly-tolerable

@athenril-of-kirkwall

@citrinefennec

@goblin-deity

@thatdreadbitch

@bitchesofostwick

@luciferesque

@kittlesandbugs

@mythalsknickers

@dickeybbqpit

@littleblue-eyedbird

@dirthenera

@everestv-themuse

@roguelioness

@sasshole-for-rent

@evesharmony

@amata-hawke

@idrelle-miocovani

@pedlimwen

@midnightprelude

@rileys-nest

@thesaltyhealer

@joufancyhuh

[dadrunkwriting]

DWC: Team NA/AUS/ASIA Headcount!

Tagged Writers,

Please reply to or reblog this post (with a message, not just tags) by 4:00pm PST/7:00pm EST if you would like to participate tonight!

Writing will ONLY be reblogged if posted after 4pm PST on Fridays!!

Friendly DWC admins: We have a FAQ here, you can also contact any of us with any questions. The admins are @thevikingwoman @galadrieljones @ma-sulevin @5ftgarden @ocean-in-my-rebel-soul and @princessvicky01 for European writers.

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

Inactive writers: If you care currently inactive, and would like to go back to be active, please message an admin to move you to the active list. If you missed the post about active / inactive it is here.

Joining DWC: 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. If you have more questions, you can also check out our  FAQ!

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

Thank you! <3

@thevikingwoman

@5ftgarden

@galadrieljones

@ma-sulevin

@ocean-in-my-rebel-soul

@dismalzelenka

@houseofaustrich

@rawrzimon

@sulevinblade

@redinkofshame

@kierarutherford

@talesfromthefade

@eradikater

@pikapeppa

@irlaimsaaralath

@funkypoacher

@ashetrashe

@kvpowers

@kimpossibility

@nilesdaughter

@ladylike-foxes

@theweepingstar

@randomnonsensedragonage

@apostatetabris

@sylveonne

@fourletterepithet

@fadetouchedmind

@buttsonthebeach

@teiranlavellan

@contreparry

@griiffn

@christophertherobin

@aly-the-writer

@bythexdreadwolf

@haloneshiral

@veridium-bye

@inquisadaartabras

@a-kitten-made-of-corduroy

@lyrium-lovesong

@zolanhras

@bearly-tolerable

@athenril-of-kirkwall

@citrinefennec

@goblin-deity

@thatdreadbitch

@bitchesofostwick

@luciferesque

@kittlesandbugs

@mythalsknickers

@dickeybbqpit

@littleblue-eyedbird

@dirthenera

@everestv-themuse

@roguelioness

@sasshole-for-rent

@evesharmony

@amata-hawke

@idrelle-miocovani

@pedlimwen

@midnightprelude

@rileys-nest

@thesaltyhealer

@joufancyhuh

[dadrunkwriting]

DWC: Team NA/Aus/Asia Head Count!

Tagged Writers,

Please reply to or reblog this post (with a message, not just tags) by 4:00pm PST/7:00pm EST if you would like to participate tonight!

Writing will ONLY be reblogged if posted after 4pm PST on Fridays!!

Friendly DWC admins: We have a FAQ here, you can also contact any of us with any questions. The admins are @thevikingwoman @galadrieljones @ma-sulevin @5ftgarden @ocean-in-my-rebel-soul and @princessvicky01 for European writers.

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

Inactive writers: If you care currently inactive, and would like to go back to be active, please message an admin to move you to the active list. If you missed the post about active / inactive it is here.

Joining DWC: 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. If you have more questions, you can also check out our  FAQ!

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

Thank you! <3

@thevikingwoman

@5ftgarden

@galadrieljones

@ma-sulevin

@ocean-in-my-rebel-soul

@dismalzelenka

@houseofaustrich

@rawrzimon

@sulevinblade

@redinkofshame

@kierarutherford

@talesfromthefade

@eradikater

@pikapeppa

@irlaimsaaralath

@funkypoacher

@ashetrashe

@kvpowers

@kimpossibility

@nilesdaughter

@ladylike-foxes

@theweepingstar

@randomnonsensedragonage

@apostatetabris

@sylveonne

@fourletterepithet

@fadetouchedmind

@buttsonthebeach

@teiranlavellan

@contreparry

@griiffn

@christophertherobin

@aly-the-writer

@bythexdreadwolf

@haloneshiral

@veridium-bye

@inquisadaartabras

@a-kitten-made-of-corduroy

@lyrium-lovesong

@zolanhras

@bearly-tolerable

@athenril-of-kirkwall

@citrinefennec

@goblin-deity

@thatdreadbitch

@bitchesofostwick

@luciferesque

@kittlesandbugs

@mythalsknickers

@dickeybbqpit

@littleblue-eyedbird

@dirthenera

@everestv-themuse

@roguelioness

@sasshole-for-rent

@evesharmony

@amata-hawke

@idrelle-miocovani

@pedlimwen

@midnightprelude

@rileys-nest

@thesaltyhealer

@joufancyhuh

@dharma-writes

[dadrunkwriting]

DWC: Team NA/Aus/Asia Head Count!

Tagged Writers,

Please reply to or reblog this post (with a message, not just tags) by 4:00pm PST/7:00pm EST if you would like to participate tonight!

Writing will ONLY be reblogged if posted after 4pm PST on Fridays!!

Friendly DWC admins: We have a FAQ here, you can also contact any of us with any questions. The admins are @thevikingwoman @galadrieljones @ma-sulevin @5ftgarden @ocean-in-my-rebel-soul and @princessvicky01 for European writers.

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

Inactive writers: If you care currently inactive, and would like to go back to be active, please message an admin to move you to the active list. If you missed the post about active / inactive it is here.

Joining DWC: 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. If you have more questions, you can also check out our  FAQ!

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

Thank you! <3

@thevikingwoman

@5ftgarden

@galadrieljones

@ma-sulevin

@ocean-in-my-rebel-soul

@dismalzelenka

@houseofaustrich

@rawrzimon

@sulevinblade

@redinkofshame

@kierarutherford

@talesfromthefade

@eradikater

@pikapeppa

@irlaimsaaralath

@funkypoacher

@ashetrashe

@kvpowers

@kimpossibility

@nilesdaughter

@ladylike-foxes

@theweepingstar

@randomnonsensedragonage

@apostatetabris

@sylveonne

@fourletterepithet

@fadetouchedmind

@buttsonthebeach

@teiranlavellan

@contreparry

@griiffn

@christophertherobin

@aly-the-writer

@bythexdreadwolf

@haloneshiral

@veridium-bye

@inquisadaartabras

@a-kitten-made-of-corduroy

@lyrium-lovesong

@zolanhras

@bearly-tolerable

@athenril-of-kirkwall

@citrinefennec

@goblin-deity

@thatdreadbitch

@bitchesofostwick

@luciferesque

@kittlesandbugs

@mythalsknickers

@dickeybbqpit

@littleblue-eyedbird

@dirthenera

@everestv-themuse

@roguelioness

@sasshole-for-rent

@evesharmony

@amata-hawke

@idrelle-miocovani

@pedlimwen

@midnightprelude

@rileys-nest​

@thesaltyhealer

[dadrunkwriting]

DWC: Team NA/Aus/Asia Head Count!

Tagged Writers,

Please reply to or reblog this post (with a message, not just tags) by 4:00pm PST/7:00pm EST if you would like to participate tonight!

Writing will ONLY be reblogged if posted after 4pm PST on Fridays!!

Friendly DWC admins: We have a FAQ here, you can also contact any of us with any questions. The admins are @thevikingwoman @galadrieljones @ma-sulevin @5ftgarden @ocean-in-my-rebel-soul and @princessvicky01 for European writers.

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

Inactive writers: If you care currently inactive, and would like to go back to be active, please message an admin to move you to the active list. If you missed the post about active / inactive it is here.

PLEASE let us know if you inactive as the list right now is Very Long!

you can always switch back, it’s super easy.

Joining DWC: 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. If you have more questions, you can also check out our  FAQ!

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

Thank you! <3

@thevikingwoman

@5ftgarden

@galadrieljones

@ma-sulevin

@ocean-in-my-rebel-soul

@dismalzelenka

@houseofaustrich

@rawrzimon

@sulevinblade

@redinkofshame

@kierarutherford

@talesfromthefade

@eradikater

@pikapeppa

@irlaimsaaralath

@funkypoacher

@ashetrashe

@kvpowers

@kimpossibility

@nilesdaughter

@ladylike-foxes

@theweepingstar

@randomnonsensedragonage

@apostatetabris

@sylveonne

@fourletterepithet

@fadetouchedmind

@buttsonthebeach

@teiranlavellan

@contreparry

@griiffn

@christophertherobin

@aly-the-writer

@bythexdreadwolf

@haloneshiral

@veridium-bye

@inquisadaartabras

@a-kitten-made-of-corduroy

@lyrium-lovesong

@zolanhras

@bearly-tolerable

@athenril-of-kirkwall

@citrinefennec

@goblin-deity

@thatdreadbitch

@bitchesofostwick

@luciferesque

@kittlesandbugs

@mythalsknickers

@dickeybbqpit

@littleblue-eyedbird

@dirthenera

@everestv-themuse

@roguelioness

@sasshole-for-rent

@evesharmony

@amata-hawke

@idrelle-miocovani

@pedlimwen

@midnightprelude

@rileys-nest

@thesaltyhealer

@joufancyhuh

[dadrunkwriting]

DWC: Team NA/Aus/Asia Head Count!

Tagged Writers,

Please reply to or reblog this post (with a message, not just tags) by 4:00pm PST/7:00pm EST if you would like to participate tonight!

Writing will ONLY be reblogged if posted after 4pm PST on Fridays!!

October writing challenge: Ghosts!

Friendly DWC admins: We have a FAQ here, you can also contact any of us with any questions. The admins are @thevikingwoman @galadrieljones @ma-sulevin @5ftgarden @ocean-in-my-rebel-soul and @princessvicky01 for European writers.

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

Inactive writers: If you care currently inactive, and would like to go back to be active, please message an admin to move you to the active list. If you missed the post about active / inactive it is here.

Joining DWC: 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. If you have more questions, you can also check out our  FAQ!

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

Thank you! <3

@thevikingwoman

@5ftgarden

@galadrieljones

@ma-sulevin

@ocean-in-my-rebel-soul

@dismalzelenka

@houseofaustrich

@rawrzimon

@sulevinblade

@redinkofshame

@kierarutherford

@talesfromthefade

@eradikater

@pikapeppa

@irlaimsaaralath

@funkypoacher

@ashetrashe

@kvpowers

@kimpossibility

@nilesdaughter

@ladylike-foxes

@theweepingstar

@randomnonsensedragonage

@apostatetabris

@sylveonne

@fourletterepithet

@fadetouchedmind

@buttsonthebeach

@teiranlavellan

@contreparry

@griiffn

@christophertherobin

@aly-the-writer

@bythexdreadwolf

@haloneshiral

@veridium-bye

@inquisadaartabras

@a-kitten-made-of-corduroy

@lyrium-lovesong

@zolanhras

@bearly-tolerable

@athenril-of-kirkwall

@citrinefennec

@goblin-deity

@thatdreadbitch

@bitchesofostwick

@luciferesque

@kittlesandbugs

@mythalsknickers

@dickeybbqpit

@littleblue-eyedbird

@dirthenera

@everestv-themuse

@roguelioness

@sasshole-for-rent

@evesharmony

@amata-hawke

@idrelle-miocovani

@pedlimwen

@midnightprelude

@rileys-nest

@thesaltyhealer

@joufancyhuh

[dadrunkwriting]

DWC: Team NA/Aus/Asia Head Count!

Tagged Writers,

Please reply to or reblog this post (with a message, not just tags) by 4:00pm PST/7:00pm EST if you would like to participate tonight!

Writing will ONLY be reblogged if posted after 4pm PST on Fridays!!

Friendly DWC admins: We have a FAQ here, you can also contact any of us with any questions. The admins are @thevikingwoman @galadrieljones @ma-sulevin @5ftgarden @ocean-in-my-rebel-soul and @princessvicky01 for European writers.

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

Inactive writers: If you care currently inactive, and would like to go back to be active, please message an admin to move you to the active list. If you missed the post about active / inactive it is here.

Joining DWC: 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. If you have more questions, you can also check out our  FAQ!

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

Thank you! <3

@thevikingwoman

@5ftgarden

@galadrieljones

@ma-sulevin

@ocean-in-my-rebel-soul

@dismalzelenka

@houseofaustrich

@rawrzimon

@sulevinblade

@redinkofshame

@kierarutherford

@talesfromthefade

@eradikater

@pikapeppa

@irlaimsaaralath

@funkypoacher

@ashetrashe

@kvpowers

@kimpossibility

@nilesdaughter

@ladylike-foxes

@theweepingstar

@randomnonsensedragonage

@apostatetabris

@sylveonne

@fourletterepithet

@fadetouchedmind

@buttsonthebeach

@teiranlavellan

@contreparry

@griiffn

@christophertherobin

@aly-the-writer

@bythexdreadwolf

@haloneshiral

@veridium-bye

@inquisadaartabras

@a-kitten-made-of-corduroy

@lyrium-lovesong

@zolanhras

@bearly-tolerable

@athenril-of-kirkwall

@citrinefennec

@goblin-deity

@thatdreadbitch

@bitchesofostwick

@luciferesque

@kittlesandbugs

@mythalsknickers

@dickeybbqpit

@littleblue-eyedbird

@dirthenera

@everestv-themuse

@roguelioness

@sasshole-for-rent

@evesharmony

@amata-hawke

@idrelle-miocovani

@pedlimwen

@midnightprelude

@rileys-nest

@thesaltyhealer

@joufancyhuh