drunkenworgen

[drunkenworgen]

And that was the thing about her, she kept on surviving. With bullet holes in her lungs, and knife marks etched in her back. She never let anything get in her way, resilient. A fighter, not by choice, but a warrior at heart.

Kiana Azizian

[drunkenworgen]

( @medivhthecorrupted )

"Oh.." Medivh scratches his bearded chin, "Be their friend and stick to them like glue. They'll either punch you and toss you in the gallows or they'll punch you and offer a drink. I mean that's how Anduin and I became close friends. Though he tossed me into the canal instead of the gallows, thinking it was funny. I couldnt swim at the time and he had to fish me out."

He gives the worgen a small grin, "The romance comes later."

Medivh flicks out a violet colored envelope that seems to be saturated in magic, "Or you can invite her to one of my parties. Guaranteed to hook up any young couples or enjoy a one night stand with your romantic interest. Mind the murlocs and the party crashing eredar lord."

She accepted the envelope with a curious sniff. Worgen habits. “…ah’ll keep tha’ in mind,” she muttered, smirking. She let her mind drift for a moment before snapping to the present.

“Sorry. Eredar lord? The murlocs’re less concernin’.”

[drunkenworgen]

( @medivhthecorrupted )

Nobles? As in the aristocracy? Or… *checks calendar* It’s Noblegarden season isn’t it? We’re talking about rabbits aren’t we?

“Th’…th’ firs’ one.” She looks wistful for a moment. If only Lorna Crowley had returned her affections.

[drunkenworgen]

Stares at Gin.

How the hell do you attract nobles?

[drunkenworgen]

you don’t have to match my freak you just have to think whatever’s wrong with me is fascinating and perhaps even sexual

[drunkenworgen]

Just a Nightmare, Right?

The urgent noises from his lab sounded like the rumbling of an earthquake, unknown forces vibrating into his bones. Heathcliff heard his footsteps drowning as he stepped cautiously into the dimly-lit room. The clinking of glass, rattling of metal, organically shifting suspicious bangs and struggles came from all sides, every shelf and drawer. He flicked the light pulley to flare the gas lights but it did nothing, as if the whole room was coming apart. 

Specimens jerked and tipped against each other as living tissue spasmed with life in the hundreds of jars filling the shelves. Glass displays of pinned butterflies beat their wings in helpless earnest, disconnected eyes rolled and stared at him angrily through catalogued containers. Every tissue in his lab was reanimated, impossibly roiling with untethered life. The smashing and falling, the grotesque, burning chemical smells as it all started to break free flared his nostrils.

This perversion made him snarl with confusion, the door to the cooled storage room of body parts ominously banging the most. A voice caught his attention, a head glowing in a sealed jar on his desk. His own head, hair floating in a sickly void-dark, purple liquid.

“Do I really look that stupid when I'm afraid?” It mocked in his own voice. Dizziness started to affect him, his usual analytical demeanor replaced with panic, confusion. Fear.

Heathcliff gasped long and hard as he sat up alone in his massive bed, the moon cooling down his thoughts as his mind pulled back from his nightmare. He was covered in sweat, his black curls damp with distress, his bare chest heaving as he calmed a pounding heart. One of his hounds stirred with a whine at the door of his room. The reassuring cadence of his reality had him sighing heavily with relief. He ran a hand through his hair and wiped his face.

“Well, old boy… I think we’re waking early today.” He groaned to the dog waiting for him excitedly to open the door. 

"Nothing some coffee can’t fix.” he padded naked to his bathroom to piss out any lasting remnants of his fear.

((had a real dream last night about this, had to write it))

@daily-writing-challenge

February 10th: Power

[drunkenworgen]

— Lauren Eden

[drunkenworgen]

“She was to be a shooting star; she flickered briefly in the void, she continued the inevitable trajectory of the meteor, downward.”

— Angela Carter, from “The Cabinet of Edgar Allen Poe”, Black Venus

[drunkenworgen]

Daily Writing Challenge: February 9-15

Cage/Power (Day Two)

The Void is hunger. Madness. Power. All of these, and all-consuming. It took what it wanted without question, without concern.

And it wanted her.

It craved to be free from the confines, the cage of her mind. A Seed implanted before birth, finally blossoming towards true potential.

Let us out, little ranger…you’d be so much better with us. Void-touched and oh-so powerful. (Let us out, let us out.)

It spoke to her in her nightmares, whispering promises of power, greatness, freedom. All while plaguing her slumber with visions of terror, taking old wounds and ripping them open again.

Give in (give in) to us. We will take you eventually (eventually). It’d be so much easier (easier) if you just…gave…in.

She thrashed in her sleep, trying to throw herself out of her nightmare before succeeding with a shout. She’d tore open a scar running down her arm, cursing at herself as she swung herself out bed to bandage it with shaky hands. The Void was powerful and frightening, but it had never had to deal with her before.

@daily-writing-challenge

[drunkenworgen]

Daily Writing Challenge: February 9-15

Hypnotic (Cursed with Rage) (Day One) The first time it happened, there was no dramatic shift, no obvious change in eye color. The only thing different was the rage she felt, all but blacking out when it happened.

When she came to, there was blood on her knuckles and no recollection of how it got there. All she knew was that it wasn’t hers.

It allowed her some control at first, sharing the helm. She chose to go by “Sylver” during this time, separating one self from the other. Sylver was the one hired for dangerous jobs - subdue, kidnap…hunt and kill. Sylver had no obvious moral code, only rage and a hunger for blood.

Over time It took more control, less Gin and more Sylver. The whispers getting louder and louder.

Only good for what they can get from you… Only good to be used… Let them use you…your body, soul, mind… You are PATHETIC.

It tried to take over, remove “Gin” from the equation completely. It wasn’t until she caught the attentions of the Old Gods in the form of a corrupted Kaldorei that Gin was even aware of the Other in her head. Now It no longer whispered but screamed at her, making appearances in the mirror to her.

Lonely little ranger… Afraid of what is in store… The world will take those you love away… And We will be the only ones left for you.

Her reflection would cackle at this point, before she’d watch in horror as her eyes turned to a violet so dark it was almost black, almost hypnotizing her and freezing her in place. And then It spoke again:

Ywaq ma phgwa’cul hnakf…    (They are the whisper on the shivering wind…) Ywaq puul skshgn: on’ma yeh’glu zuq.    (They drink your fear: it is the blood of life.)

The mirror shattered as her fist met it, glass embedding itself in her bloody knuckles. Her breathing was erratic as she backed away quickly. But the Voices weren’t done, simply getting quieter as she slid to the floor.

Ywaq puul skshgn…    (They drink your fear…)

Her breathing was shallow, her body shaking with the effort to ignore the fading Voice.

Pull skshgn…    (Your fear…)

@daily-writing-challenge

[drunkenworgen]

Daily Writing Challenge: February 9-15

Hypnotic (Cursed with Rage) (Day One) The first time it happened, there was no dramatic shift, no obvious change in eye color. The only thing different was the rage she felt, all but blacking out when it happened.

When she came to, there was blood on her knuckles and no recollection of how it got there. All she knew was that it wasn’t hers.

It allowed her some control at first, sharing the helm. She chose to go by “Sylver” during this time, separating one self from the other. Sylver was the one hired for dangerous jobs - subdue, kidnap…hunt and kill. Sylver had no obvious moral code, only rage and a hunger for blood.

Over time It took more control, less Gin and more Sylver. The whispers getting louder and louder.

Only good for what they can get from you… Only good to be used… Let them use you…your body, soul, mind… You are PATHETIC.

It tried to take over, remove “Gin” from the equation completely. It wasn’t until she caught the attentions of the Old Gods in the form of a corrupted Kaldorei that Gin was even aware of the Other in her head. Now It no longer whispered but screamed at her, making appearances in the mirror to her.

Lonely little ranger… Afraid of what is in store… The world will take those you love away… And We will be the only ones left for you.

Her reflection would cackle at this point, before she’d watch in horror as her eyes turned to a violet so dark it was almost black, almost hypnotizing her and freezing her in place. And then It spoke again:

Ywaq ma phgwa’cul hnakf…    (They are the whisper on the shivering wind…) Ywaq puul skshgn: on’ma yeh’glu zuq.    (They drink your fear: it is the blood of life.)

The mirror shattered as her fist met it, glass embedding itself in her bloody knuckles. Her breathing was erratic as she backed away quickly. But the Voices weren’t done, simply getting quieter as she slid to the floor.

Ywaq puul skshgn…    (They drink your fear…)

Her breathing was shallow, her body shaking with the effort to ignore the fading Voice.

Pull skshgn…    (Your fear…)

@daily-writing-challenge

[drunkenworgen]

[drunkenworgen]

Audrey Hepburn and her pet deer, Pippin a.k.a. Ip, on the set of Green Mansions in 1958

[drunkenworgen]

[drunkenworgen]

Daily Writing Challenge: February 9-15

Hypnotic (Cursed with Rage) (Day One) The first time it happened, there was no dramatic shift, no obvious change in eye color. The only thing different was the rage she felt, all but blacking out when it happened.

When she came to, there was blood on her knuckles and no recollection of how it got there. All she knew was that it wasn’t hers.

It allowed her some control at first, sharing the helm. She chose to go by “Sylver” during this time, separating one self from the other. Sylver was the one hired for dangerous jobs - subdue, kidnap…hunt and kill. Sylver had no obvious moral code, only rage and a hunger for blood.

Over time It took more control, less Gin and more Sylver. The whispers getting louder and louder.

Only good for what they can get from you… Only good to be used… Let them use you…your body, soul, mind… You are PATHETIC.

It tried to take over, remove “Gin” from the equation completely. It wasn’t until she caught the attentions of the Old Gods in the form of a corrupted Kaldorei that Gin was even aware of the Other in her head. Now It no longer whispered but screamed at her, making appearances in the mirror to her.

Lonely little ranger… Afraid of what is in store… The world will take those you love away… And We will be the only ones left for you.

Her reflection would cackle at this point, before she’d watch in horror as her eyes turned to a violet so dark it was almost black, almost hypnotizing her and freezing her in place. And then It spoke again:

Ywaq ma phgwa’cul hnakf…    (They are the whisper on the shivering wind…) Ywaq puul skshgn: on’ma yeh’glu zuq.    (They drink your fear: it is the blood of life.)

The mirror shattered as her fist met it, glass embedding itself in her bloody knuckles. Her breathing was erratic as she backed away quickly. But the Voices weren’t done, simply getting quieter as she slid to the floor.

Ywaq puul skshgn…    (They drink your fear…)

Her breathing was shallow, her body shaking with the effort to ignore the fading Voice.

Pull skshgn…    (Your fear…)

@daily-writing-challenge

[drunkenworgen]

‘The Wave and the Beach’, marble statue, Royal Palace, Stockholm

(Swedish artist Johan Teodor Lundberg)

[drunkenworgen]

DAILY WRITING CHALLENGE 2025 IS BACK!

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO USE THE ACTUAL WORD FOR THIS CHALLENGE, YOU MAY SIMPLY BASE YOUR STORY AROUND ONE OF THESE IDEAS!

Choose one or both words/IDEAS and write a story, drabble, poem, or anything else once a day, every day, for a week!

Tag @daily-writing-challenge so we can reblog your stories.

Write the number day/challenge somewhere on your story.

LIST CONTENT WARNINGS VISIBLY ABOVE STORY! (Use a ‘read more’ line if content gets too graphic.)

Tags that will be used: #februarydwc2025,  #februarydayX2025 (X=whatever number day you’re writing for), #yourtumblrurl

There will be no optional challenges for the weekly DWC’s, but please feel free to make up some of your own challenges!

The next writing challenge will be in MAY 2025 and last one week!

CLICK HERE FOR OTHER IMPORTANT INFORMATION!

Good luck and more importantly, HAVE FUN! Encourage your fellow writers and show them some love and support with likes/reblogs/comments!

We look forward to reading some amazing writing!

((Written word list below the cut))

Day 1 - February 9 Hypnotic, Star

Day 2 - February 10 Cage, Power Day 3 - February 11 Suspicious, Salutation

Day 4 - February 12 Salty, Euphoria Day 5 - February 13 Undersea, Navigate Day 6 - February 14 Annoy, Holiday Day 7 - February 15 Rage, Loyalty