Rules: make a post with all of the WIPs you are bringing into the new year with you! and tell us a bit about them 🥰
tagged by the lovely and talented @epiphany-jones @xkatchy @handsignals @woundedsoul12 and @sandcastlekings who all shared lovely bits of writing/concepts/things I'm so very looking forward to reading!!! 💖
here's a selection of the biggest / most important pieces I want to work on first this year!
🌩️ Untitled Canon Veilguard Fic
This has recently expanded from maeve/viago to also include lucanis/sylvie because I can no longer pretend I don't yearn to write a rookanis romance. The main story will follow maeve with sylvie in the background as a kind of second rook/companion + the sylcanis romance featured in smaller-scale ficlets.
🏰 Untitled Canon Inquisition Fic
the last thing I wrote for this left off on Solas insisting to himself that he would not go kiss the inquisitor... you'll never guess what I have planned to happen next. 😏 Also as soon as I start publishing the canon veilguard fic it will become very obvious that I'm going to fuck with the canon ending of inquisition so it will be fun to have written the beginning and the ending but use this space to fill in the middle ground for Solavellan!
💫 Hearthkeeper
my sorely-neglected tavstarion fic. 💔I'm still turning it over in my head daily I promise. I mostly post about dragon age here so idk how many of my mutuals have read this one but it's basically going through the bg3 canon except tav isn't trained in any kind of combat. She earns her keep with the group by maintaining the camp. It's my excuse to write instant-gratification astarion fluff and smut hehe
🏷️ tag list
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tagged by lots of lovely people this week (and every week)!! tysm for tagging me. I always, always, always love reading your wips even if I don't post my own very often.
I’m really enjoying slowly writing bits and pieces of this little one shot with Maeve and Viago fooling around for the first time!!
It's set during mid-game Veilguard and the context is that there’s already been lots of tension and flirting and trust-building culminating in a few stolen kisses. They’re desperate for more than a couple minutes alone and thoroughly enjoy themselves upon getting it.
(this is before the ~fooling around~ commences so the snippet below is rated G)
"You are… uniquely distracting," he accuses. There's no bite to it, only the subtle uptick at the corner of his mouth.
Infuriating, gorgeous man.
As if she hasn't thought about their previous meeting every second since it happened three days ago beneath the dimmed light of his office in quiet hours of night. The golden thread of tension between them pulling taunt. The hungry press of his mouth against hers and the reluctant parting of ways before there could be more. The grip on her waist as he'd pulled her back across the threshold, back behind the privacy of a closed door, for just one more taste. A lingering promise.
"Oh, is that what I am? A distraction?"
The question slips out before she can stop it. Godsdamned mouth always running ahead of her brain. There's a breathlessness to her voice that she hopes will make the words come across as teasing rather than what they really are. What is this? She wants to ask. What are we doing? Because if this is a game to him, she isn't sure she wants to play. He can't just kiss her like he means it and then—
Viago does not hesitate, closing the distance between their lips and kissing her with a kind of gentleness she had not expected. It's more than enough to stop every thought inside her head and then is over in the span of a heartbeat. Though he does not go far, leaving her staring down in a cross-eyed daze, entranced at the nearness of his mouth.
So very close.
So close that when he speaks again she can feel the whisper of movement against her own lips.
"There are better things you could put in my mouth than words, I think."
The shock of it snaps her eyes up to his as an incredulous laugh slips out, more huffs of air than noise.
"Excuse me?"
"I can think of at least four off the top of my head," he continues in that casually formal way of his. Unaffected aside from the glint in his eyes that always appears during their tête-à-têtes. A playfulness seemingly reserved just for her.
🏷️ tag list
If you'd like on or off the list go here.
Rules: Reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers.
tysm to the amazing @gatesofminrathous for the tag! 💖✨
5. Hearthkeeper (39,657)
Astarion x Ceri (named fem tav) | Explicit | WIP
Long-form comfort / smut fic.
4. Theophanies (1,657)
No Pairing | General | Complete
very experimental / abstract exploration of dragon age lore
3. We're Getting Good at This (5,508)
Viago de Riva x Maeve {named fem rook) | Teen+ | Complete
an anthology of seven moments contributed to dragon age kiss week 2025 💕
2. Chaos, Calculation (1,372)
Solas x Mirwen Lavellan | Teen+ | Complete
my first swing at a Solas pov. still so proud of how it came out!
1. Patron of the Arts (3,524)
Viago de Riva x Maeve (named fem rook) | Explicit | Complete
the very first viarook smut I ever wrote! and the very first fic where I felt like I knew Maeve fully.
🏷️ tag list If you'd like on or off the list go here.
tagged by the incredible @wishforhome @xkatchy @gatesofminrathous @depmode and @lotusfueltofire 💕💘💖
This was my very first year publishing fic and y'all could not have been more welcoming! 🥹 Between the BG3 and Dragon Age communities I have met some of the most lovely people and some of the most talented authors / artists !!
Highlights
Total Word Count: 102,310
Works: 21
Fandoms: Dragon Age, Baldur's Gate 3, Dropout
I also started learning to draw this year!! so it will be very exciting to look back from the end of 2026 and see what has changed 🫶💖✨
Most Popular Fic
Hearthkeeper
Astarion x Ceri (Named Fem Tav)
Explicit | 39,657 words | Incomplete
Indulgent comfort smut long-fic
I swear I haven't abandoned this fic. The Dragon Age brainworms have taken me over and there are only so many hours in the day. 😩
Shortest Completed Fic
oh, make it good
Davrin x Rook (Unnamed Fem Rook)
Teen | 822 words | Complete
Davrin and Rook take Assan and Manfred to the beach for an afternoon!
Davrin was my first romance in the game and I'll love him forever 💕
Longest Completed Fic
Hold Your Horses
Solas x Mirwen Lavellan (Named Female Inquisitor)
Teen | 6,297 words | Complete
Inquisitor Mirwen Lavellan and Solas end up on a horse together. Flirting ensues!
Written immediately after beginning a playthrough of Inquisition for the first time after just having finished Veilguard and thinking "damn I wish I could have romanced Solas" 💀
In Progress Fic that I want to work on More
Inevitable [series]
Solas x Mirwen Lavellan (Named Female Inquisitor)
Teen | 7,669 words | Incomplete
This is what I've been calling everything I write about Solas and Mirwen! I wanted to write more of their Inquisition story before I start posting Maeve's Veilguard story because they're part of the same canon but that's probably not going to happen lmao. 🤝
Spiciest Fic
Kinktober 2025
Viago de Riva x Maeve Aldwir (Named Fem Rook); Lucanis Dellamorte x Viago de Riva x Andarateia Cantori
Explicit | 4,566 words | Complete
Baby's first Kinktober! Indulgent Mango 🥭 smut and a polycrow (Lucanis/Spite/Viago/Teia) oneshot!
Most Updated Fic
i call & you come through ♜❤️🔥🐦⬛ [series]
Viago de Riva x Maeve Aldwir (Named Fem Rook)
Explicit | 18,238 words | Incomplete
I can't believe how much I've written about these two idiots since *checks notes* the end of March??? I think about them literally constantly.
🏷️ tag list
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tagged by the lovely @gatesofminrathous and @beachhotdog 💖
Said I wanted to get the first chapter of Maeve's main fic posted before the new year so I, uh, *checks notes* started writing about her best friend who romances Lucanis instead...
(you can read a little bit of context regarding Sylvie here. she is part of the same universe as Maeve (rook) and Mirwen (inquisitor) which is my canon DA universe ✨)
Sylvie is quiet—not shy, but reserved—even as Spite bombards her with nonsense.
Lucanis should stop the demon but…
"You smell of roses and dew. Soft," Spite observes. He hovers far too close to her, bent so low over her where she sits at her desk that his nose almost touches the pale skin where neck meets shoulder.
Lucanis does not allow himself to think about what it would feel like to press his lips to that spot.
She hums. Offhanded but not dismissive. The way she almost always addresses the demon's queries.
"It's rose water. The lotion I use after bathing is scented with it."
"Taste sweet, too?"
Before Lucanis can chastise him she begins laughing softly and the way Spite preens radiates through Lucanis' chest. Like petting a cat and feeling the vibrations of its purr.
"Roses are sweet, yes." She glances at Lucanis. "I know tea is not your favorite, but would you be opposed to me making you a cup for Spite to try?"
Lucanis' nod is reflexive. Perhaps a little overeager. He finds he would do anything she asks of him. The thought concerns him less and less by the day.
🏷️ tag list
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For Viarook Week 2026 (@viarookweek)
Combining Prompts Day 1: Gloves/Skin + Day 5: Deception/Trust
Tooth-rotting dog-dad!Viago with the tiniest hint of pregnant Maeve at the very end.
Fia likes treats. Loves them. Especially the ones papà gives when he's very proud of her.
Rating: G
WC: 1,032
read it on ao3
or beneath the cut ⤵️
art by asparklethatisblue
Fia moves through the halls with all the purposefulness her four lanky legs can manage at just eight months old. She has an important job to do. The most important, her papà says. And if she does it exactly as she's supposed to, papà will give her a treat.
Tee-arr-ee-ae-tee.
That means treat, too, even if Fia doesn't know why papà and mamma say it like that sometimes. There are so many words for treat. It seems like as soon as Fia and her sisters learn one, papà and mamma use another.
Biscotto.
Dolce.
Bradh.
Fia likes treats. Loves them. Especially the ones papà gives when he's very proud of her.
She presses her long snoot to the crack of the partially-closed door, opening it enough to slip into the room where Fia and Nessie and Aridhel and papà and mamma sleep at night. A little wicker basket sits on a low shelf right next to the soft pillows where papà lays. He says it was made special, just for her; not even her sisters are allowed to touch it.
The handle is made of supple leather but it is not a toy. She knows that now, but it had been very confusing at first.
"Why is it not a toy?" she had thought. It smelled and tasted just like the bouncing ball that she and her sisters like to chase in the garden. Papà had used words she did not know, but mamma is very clever. (Just like Fia and Nessie and Aridhel. Papà says they are all his clever girls.) Mamma taught Fia a new doing word. Help.
Fia likes to help almost as much as she likes treats. Help is good girl, and si, bene, and scratches under the chin.
Nessie and Aridhel help too, but this is Fia's special job. A job papà says he only trusts her to do.
Some words mean mamma and papà want her to do something.
Sit.
Bed.
Speak.
Trust is not a doing word. At least Fia doesn't think it is. To be fair, she's not sure what it means yet. She's learning, though. Always learning. Because she's papà's clever girl.
Whatever it means, she likes it. Not as much as treat and help but almost.
She gathers the handle carefully between her teeth (gentle, mamma says) and trots back through the halls. The basket is not heavy but she can smell the things inside. Some of the smells are always there. Two things that smell like death (the kind like papà's work, not the kind to eat) and two things that smell like mamma when the sky is wet and loud. There are always clothes for papà's hands, too. (Gloves, she thinks. She is still learning. All of the clothes have different names.)
Today she smells parchment and ink. Like the things mamma says are called books. Fia likes books. Mamma looks at them and says words. Sometimes Fia even knows some of the ones she says. There is also the smell of metal, but so many things smell of that it is hard to know what this thing could be.
That's okay, though. Fia doesn't care what is inside the basket. She only wants to help.
Papà is going to be so proud of her. She is very fast. He is still where she left him, in the napping room, with mamma laying in his lap. Fia brings him the basket and he coos sweetly at her. It makes her tail wag back and forth. She preens and noses at him as he uses all the best words.
"Si, bene. Good girl, Fia. My clever girl. Well done," he praises, handing Fia—
A treat! A special treat!
She takes the fuzzy rabbit ear gently (another good girl for gentle) but does not leave. Not yet. Sometimes papà forgets the other thing. Fia doesn't forget, though. She's a clever girl.
There's room for her chin to rest on one of papà's knees. Mamma's head is on the other. Her face is turned away but her breath is slow and even which Fia knows means she is asleep again. Good, Fia thinks, mamma is safe to nap here. (This is Fia's favorite room because of the big soft couch by the window and because mamma and papà smell safe here. No one else is allowed inside.)
Mamma smells more, now. Not like when Fia and Nessie and Aridhel go swim and need a big bath. Not bad. Just more. New but not new. Mamma but not mamma.
Fia thinks there are words for it, but she is not sure yet.
Baby. Bee-ae-bee-why.
(Sometimes mamma calls Fia and her sisters that word, though.)
"Ah, how could I forget?" Papà says.
Yes! Fia's tail wags faster, eyes closing in contentment as papà scratches beneath her chin. This is very good. There are no clothes on his hands which makes it even better. Papà likes wearing gloves but Fia thinks they are no good for scratches.
"Good girl. Now take your treat and join your sisters."
Treat!
Fia carries her rabbit ear to the rug in front of another couch where her sisters lay curled together. Nessie sleeps like mamma but Aridhel is alert. Always alert. Papà says that is Aridhel's special job. Fia thinks she is very good at it. (Mamma says Nessie's job is silly goose but Fia doesn't know what that means yet. Nessie is a good girl, though, so Fia knows she is very good at her job too.)
As she begins plucking the fuzz from the skin (her favorite part), Fia watches papà pet mamma's hair. He opens the basket and the smell of parchment and ink wafts out. Soon a soft scratching sound begins and the smell of ink grows even more fresh. Sometimes papà will say words but Fia does not know them.
Fia likes to hear papà's voice, though. Mamma and Nessie and Aridhel do too. Aridhel even closes her eyes.
"Enjoy the quiet while you can," papà says softly.
Even without knowing what they mean, Fia thinks the words sound like ti amo.
Prompt: Celebration
Rook x Viago
Rating: G
WC: 1,454
Read it on ao3 or below the cut!
@dragonagekissweek <- go check out all the other incredible contributions! 🥰
On this dirt road in the middle of the Ferelden countryside, there's no one to witness the Fifth Talon as he bends to kiss the pup on her shaggy forehead.
The pup is larger than the last time he saw her. Considerably so. Heavier, too, he observes, catching her with an umph as she leaps up into his arms. Soon she will be far too big for him to hold. Each time Viago visits he continues to wonder how she could possibly grow so quickly in such a short amount of time. Yet a tiny creature compared to the adults, she's already larger than any dog he's seen in Antiva. At just past four months old, her head is even with his knees; she won't be considered fully grown until she reaches his waist.
—
Ferelden Deerhound are not easy things to obtain. It took him the better part of a year to track down a breeder and he's almost chagrined to admit that ended up being the easiest part of the process. No amount of money (or threatening) could convince the woman to reserve him a pick from her next litter; Muriel Crowner insisted that in order for her to even consider allowing him to purchase a pup he must visit the farm in person.
And so he did. For his own amusement, of course. Viago needed to meet the woman audacious enough to deny a Talon. If the dogs she produces are even half as obstinate then all of it will be a worthwhile endeavor, a justified purchase. Wilfulness is exactly what drew him to the Deerhound in the first place. That, and the sheer size of the beasts.
Nothing makes him more uneasy than leaving Maeve. It's not a matter of her being capable—she's a god-killer; he knows she is more capable than even himself in many regards—but having such close ties to three Talons puts his amorina at significant risk. It would be foolish to underestimate someone's willingness to strike at her. Emil Kortez had attempted much worse for far less and almost succeeded, after all.
A dog is undoubtedly less effective at protection than a Crow, but Viago finds the benefits to outweigh that cost. Maeve would never accept a guard but she has been interested in getting a dog. A dog who, unlike a guard, will sleep in her bed and lounge by her bath and eat from her plate. (He tries very, very hard not to think about the uncleanliness of it all. Staff will need to be hired just to keep up with the filth it tracks around. Maker, the things one does for love.) Despite the frustratingly small amount of research available to him, Viago quickly found exactly the creature he was looking for.
The Fereldens have bred their hounds for centuries, favoring large and sturdy-yet-slim builds with short, wiry coats; a combination that allows them to thrive in the rough terrain where they chase and bring down flighty deer. Viago knows that the beast's size alone will act as a deterrent to many assailants, but if appearance was all that mattered he would have chosen a Mabari.
Unlike the arguably more intimidating looking dogs, Ferelden Deerhounds are not particularly aggressive or territorial. They exhibit the same sought-after loyalty and affection for their family but a cool indifference toward strangers. Indifference that can easily be mistaken for disregard by anyone foolish. An innate desire to observe has been bred into them. The resulting creature is one that prefers to lounge with its companions and watch for something it deems worthy of chasing; a vigilant shadow.
Viago had asked to test their supposedly unparalleled observational skills, attempting to slip unnoticed into the Crowner's home and only getting halfway through the unlatched window before a single stern boof was issued in alert. The sentry lay on its soft cushion by the fireplace, her head barely inclined to assess Viago's movement. Of the five pups—only eight weeks old at the time—tucked around her frame, one raised its head and another stood, both peering toward him.
The twins, Muriel called them. Two females, their coats the same dark mottled gray, a nearly identical white star on each of their chests. Two new members of House de Riva.
It had taken him several moments to notice a third pup with its eyes fixed on him. Another female, the only entirely black coat from this litter. She hadn't moved when her mother barked, but she had watched. And she had kept watching long after the twins laid back down. Too docile tae hunt, wrong color tae breed, Muriel had said about this one. A waste, Viago thought. She's twice as clever as the rest of them. Muriel hoped to find it a nice family to settle down with but Viago had already made up his mind; if the pup hadn't been claimed by his next visit, she would be his.
—
"Have you found a family for her?" he asks, neck craned back to avoid being licked in the face. Maker, why did he think this was a good idea, again?
"Na, I havenae. Poor wee thin'." Muriel's grin is impish as she waggles her finger at him. "Dinnae ye worry, now, bird man. A knew ye haed a soft heart. She'll live a bonny life here on the farm, teachin' new pups their manners an such."
Bird man has Viago biting down on his tongue until he tastes copper. How is it that he always ends up finding the most impertinent women? He can't wait to surprise Maeve with the pups for her nameday if only because it means he can finally introduce her and Teia to the only other woman in Thedas brave enough to call the Fifth Talon something like bird man to his face.
He deposits the wriggly pup back onto the ground, expecting her to gallop off and rejoin the others. Instead, she flops down at his feet and rests her head on his boot. You don't need to convince me, he wants to say. I'm already sold.
"I'll take her, as well," he sighs.
Muriel doesn't try to hide her shock, eyes wide, jaw hanging open. Hesitantly she asks, "Sure yer wife'll want a third?"
That almost chokes him up more than bird man did. He clears his throat carefully before deadpanning, "She will be displeased I did not bring home the entire litter and their mother."
"Ah. A woman after ma own heart."
When the time comes to leave, Muriel retrieves a large lidded basket. Inside is a blanket for each of the three girls that carries the scent of their mother and litter mates, a small leather-wrapped ball, a heavily-chewed knotted length of rope, and a stuffed rabbit made of linen and wool. At the top sits jerky wrapped inside a kitchen towel (lamb, Muriel explains—their favorite) and several pieces of folded parchment with helpful advice for the months ahead.
Viago expresses his thanks, a little surprised to find himself genuinely thankful. It's only logical, he decides; evidence that these three absurdly expensive investments have been well-reared and therefore more likely to fulfill their purpose. Payment for the third "impromptu" purchase is handed over and his girls are collected.
"Oh, am just gaun'ae miss ye little lassies," Muriel sobs. She plants a smacking kiss on each of their snouts and pulls her wife from the barn to make her say goodbye as well. They both watch as Viago lifts each pup into the driver's box before climbing up himself.
He tells them to expect correspondence within a fortnight as Maeve is sure to have many questions regardless of his diligent note-taking. Muriel wipes away tears as her wife rubs her back soothingly, insisting that Maeve is welcome to send as many letters as she'd like.
The girls seem to handle all the commotion of departing quite well. They're probably used to it, after all. A good thing considering how hectic Villa de Riva can be at times. It is still early in the day and as he encourages the horse forward, Viago expects they'll make good time. Barring any unforeseen issues (the Eluvians still make him nervous no matter how many times he uses them), the four of them should be home by nightfall.
Only a few minutes into their journey the twins curl up together to nap. The third pup makes use of her lanky legs to climb up into Viago's lap. He anticipates another attempt to slobber all over his face but it never comes. She sits carefully in the crease of his legs and leans heavily against his chest, brown eyes blinking up at him. On this dirt road in the middle of the Ferelden countryside, there's no one to witness the Fifth Talon as he bends to kiss the pup on her shaggy forehead.
[ image source: Silent Symphony, Herbert Dicksee; Public Domain; copy of a print; original etching, ca. 1894 ]
a little sketch and drabble for @rookfest featuring @handsignals' rook, nona ingelvar 🐞💕📚
It's easy for Maeve to broaden her horizons when a friend brings the same enthusiastic info-dumping energy to the table as she does!
"Aren't you worried it will bite you?" Maeve asks, skeptical as can be about the little red and black spotted beetle on Nona's finger.
Nona's smile is gentle and the little laugh she gives doesn't carry any venom. "Not at all. I suppose it could bite, if it wanted to, but only if it perceived me as a threat."
"How do you know that it doesn't?"
"Ah! Well, that's one of the most interesting things about them, actually."
Maeve can't help but return Nona's excited grin, finding herself—for the first time in her life—somehow excited to hear a bug fact.
"They do this thing called 'reflex bleeding' and it's exactly what it sounds like. When threatened, they exude drops of blood from their knee joints—"
Maeve blinks, screwing her face up in half wonder, half disbelief. "Their knee joints?"
"Their knee joints!" Nona echos, nodding animatedly. "It's quite bitter and has this awful smell that deters predators from eating them."
Slightly more reassured that the little creature won't be making any sudden movements, Maeve leans in for a closer look. "Fascinating... Why the knees, though?"
"There was actually just a new publication about that last year," Nona begins and Maeve settles back in her chair, ready to listen attentively. "They think it has to do with the anatomical structure of the leg…"
