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Mx. D. D. Ward (they/them)

@ddwardiswriting.bsky.social

5.5K followers 7.5K following 22K posts

Author of smut, romantasy, and horror. Your one stop shop for Victorian fantasy werewolf romance! They/Them. No AI. Sometimes NSFW. Occasionally posts Victorian erotic photos. https://www.patreon.com/ddwardiswriting

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Mx. D. D. Ward (they/them) @ddwardiswriting.bsky.social · 12d

Ok. Still working on Star Sentinels. So this seems like a good idea.

I'm DD Ward, smut and trauma peddler.

I'm working on my project: Star Sentinels of Cerberus. It's a buddy cop story about veteran and rookie magical girls teaming up to stop a kaiju in a futuristic city of tomorrow.

Ange @gunsmile.bsky.social · 13d

#PlotTober Day 1: Introduce yourself & your WIP

Answer the prompt on the card by quoting this post. Remember, answering a prompt is always optional. Even if you don't share it publicly, I hope the prompt encourages you to think about it privately.

#WritingCommunity #WritingPrompt #WriteSky

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Mx. D. D. Ward (they/them) @ddwardiswriting.bsky.social · 7h

Well, Lady Fawn insulted Amy. And you don't do that in front of Ren and Fiona.

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Chameleon COMMISSION OPEN @chameleonnn.bsky.social · 11h

Stretch

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ORO @aaaoro.bsky.social · 9h

🍑10 #art #sketch

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Mx. D. D. Ward (they/them) @ddwardiswriting.bsky.social · 7h

Her family are professional bakers. So she can bake a wide range of stuff.

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Eliwood S. Gheist @eliwoodsgheist.com · 1d

Happy #WIPSnips 12 - Hope!

From BLUDEYE BEACH, a shameless Easter egg for myself as a DM and a handful of players ❤️ IYKYK

Edie was still in a bad mood by the time she got back to Teddy’s house. The first few chapters of a library book helped, so that when Teddy got home from his rehearsal, she could simply relish in the excitement of the two pizza boxes he carried.

“You weren’t too bored on your own, I hope?” Teddy asked.

“I can walk to the ocean while I’m here. I don’t know how I could ever get bored. And I found a book at the library that has elves and crystals and chaos magic, so I’m definitely set for a while.”

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PapaDjinn is querying @papadjinn.bsky.social · 1d

Trust instead of hope today. Tok and Othelia find themselves in a familiar bit of tension~
#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #bvm #bipoc #amwriting #Fantasy #SFF

Othelia stood there silently for a moment; her hand placed together in front of her. Her eyes searched him, but for what he could not say. Without warning she snatched up his chin and moved close to his face – dangerously close. Their eyes were locked now and Tokonus found
himself unable to resist her gaze.

“Do not ever lose control with me again Tokonus. We may dance back and forth, we may bear suspicions of one another, but if you find yourself losing my trust... you will never get it back. Do you understand?”

It was Tokonus’ turn to study Othelia, and he did so with great interest. It wasn’t fear, excitement or resentment that he felt to her. Could it have been – respect? Was that what he saw when he looked onto her? It didn’t matter, he knew what he wanted to say. Tokonus placed his hand over hers and he spoke.

“You can trust me. You can trust me with your everything.”

Othelia tensed and she bit her bottom lip ever so slightly. He did not waver, he did not back down, his eyebrows narrowed and he held her hand just a bit tighter. The lady averted her gaze first and for once Tokonus felt as if he had the upper hand against her. She did not give him the time to savor the victory. Without another word, she let him go, turned on her heels and walked away.

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Alyssa Lauseng 🐉🩸🔪 @5feetofredfury.bsky.social · 1d

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #writingprompt

Duels of Blood (all vibes 😎)

Another icy wind cut right through Obito, making a shiver rattle his body down to his bones. He looked over his shoulder at Daisuke, whose steps were becoming slower and heavier the longer they tried navigating the weather. It seemed to be getting worse by the minute, and the next town was still miles away.

"How much longer?" Daisuke groaned when he caught up, barely audible over howling winds and creaking branches as a snowdrift hissed through the trees. He blew on his hands—if he was cold, his partner had to be nearly numb by now.

Obito shook the snow out of his hair, but didn't answer as he squinted into the deepening night. His heart leapt with relief when he found a black silhouette not far from where they'd huddled together. "There's a traveler's shrine up ahead. We can stay there for the night."

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👻Scarlet🎃Mitchell☠️ @scarletvmitchell.bsky.social · 1d

#WIPSnips

A long snip of our butler reading the diaries of his predecessors at the Hermitage before it was mothballed.

The Lady of the house doesn't much care for me.
There had been variations on this sentiment throughout each of the four diaries he'd read thus far. He'd been working his way from the closing of the Hermitage backwards. Much of the contents were fairly dry and concise, but Bayle found them interesting, nonetheless. He was accumulating a richer picture of life on the Hermitage than, perhaps, the average historian might, if they focused on the names and lives of its owners and their families. Instead, he was seeing the side of it he lived, the side of it he hoped it could become again, the buzzing beehive of activity. Names of chefs and mechanics, cleaners and gardeners scrolled by, sometimes with terse commentary, and sometimes with affection.
These men were real, with hearts and opinions, who solved everyday problems for their employers, heading a staff that could run into the dozens. It was a warm dream in his heart that he could live up to what they had been able to do. Each one in turn, however, had made multiple references to the lady of the house being hostile towards him, and Bayle could find no clear reason for the animosity

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K.A. Hela ✨ Prepping for edits...again✨ @jundlife.bsky.social · 1d

Internet summoning song goes "EEE AHHHH WEEEE EBEBEBE WAAAAHHH SHUUUUUU HEEEEE Welcome"
From "HatWIP"
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips

I find myself back in my room. I shouldn’t be here. I should be in my treestand enjoying its sanctuary before the inevitable frost robs me of the option. Instead I am once again staring at my Gateway. This electronic temptress, usually only good for revealing sexual acts I have no hope of commiting, now holds another forbidden pleasure; knowledge. The original sin.
The dial-up noise is too loud for the hour of the night. The DSL people need to hurry up and free my geographic location from the restraints of using the telephone lines for all forms of communication. I hate how other people can physically hear when I am surfing the Internet Super Highway. This is supposed to be a private affair.

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Prof Emily but Spoopier Now @professoremily.bsky.social · 2d

#WIPSnips #amwriting #writingcommunity #writers #writesky

I've shared snips of this part before, but I don't care. It's one of my favorite sections ❤️

Mireia contemplating the fact that she's fallen for Kena, despite her intentions.

From Book 2 of my #Atlantis trilogy.

In those moments she looked at him, and she truly believed he was the Sun Father—the personification of hope itself—and she hardly dared consider herself worthy to stand beside his light.
But then, usually in the same moments, he would go and do some small, silly human thing—make a stupid joke and laugh at it himself, nose crinkling—and then he was just Kena again, her dearest friend, making her heart explode into butterflies.
Any little thing he did was enough to pluck the strings of her soul. He’d bring her something warm to drink when she wasn’t feeling well, or for no reason at all. He’d quietly leave a flower from his garden lying around somewhere he knew she would find it. She’d catch him lounging in the sunlight, playing his pipe to himself, and her body would ache to touch him. The sickness became worse and worse every day. He didn’t even have to do anything, and he could set her off just by being there, existing. His hands, his hair, his smell—the way his honey-colored eyes changed in the light—the shape of his mouth when he thought he was clever—the sound of his low, soft voice when he read to her from Ba’oti’s scrolls.
She wanted him. There was no use in denying it anymore. She didn’t know when it had happened, but somehow over the years, friendship had become fondness had become fascination had become desire. The takeover had been so gradual that she hadn’t realized what was happening until it was too late.

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Finn McLellan @saranadosfiction.com · 2d

#WIPSnips | hope

In which ritual preparations go a wee bit sideways thanks to Mortimer being somewhat preoccupied and forgetting that the other magician in the room is a werewolf

( saranadosfiction.com/2023/02/11/s... )

At least, until he turned to her with the satchel he was holding full to the brim with dried herbs and preparation bowls and said, as though it was the most reasonable request in the world, “Could you grab me the silver?”

Her first instinct was to punch him in the nose for the suggestion. Her second, which was thankfully the one she chose to listen to, was to close her eyes, take a deep breath, and say, as calmly as she could, “No.”

“What?”

“I said no. I don’t have gloves with me, and I can’t fight if my hands are covered in blisters.” *Not to mention the fact that if I have to somehow build up enough energy to heal from sodding silver burns then you can kiss goodbye to the rest of the contents of your pantry.*

There was a long, awkward silence. Then she heard the satchel hit the floor, shortly followed by a noise which could only be Mortimer’s palm making contact with his forehead.

“Gods, I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.”

“No harm done. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.” *At least, I bloody hope you didn’t, else you and I are going to have to have a conversation you’re not going to enjoy very much.* “Do you want me to sort out the herbs while you deal with the silver?”

“That sounds like an excellent plan.”

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Kira of the Wind (Erika McCorkle) @kiraofthewind.com · 2d

#WIPSnips

Cookie is a species of people who have strings along their arms which can be 'played' like a stringed instrument. However, the strings can also pluck themselves as a result of emotional stimuli. Here, Grilled asked what one of the sounds means.

Cookie clenched her fingers, almost making a fist. It was a small gesture, but it caused two of the strings along her arm to strum.
In three years, Grilled had never bothered to learn Homopteran emotional notes. If he really wanted Cookie to open up, perhaps he should learn what it means when certain strings were plucked. Just as a person could involuntarily chuckle or sob, so too could a Homopteran’s strings sing a note.
“What does that noise mean?” he asked. “With your arm strings, I mean.”
Cookie clicked her mandibles. “That was… hope, perhaps? A sad hope. A hope I dare not cling to because I know how easily it can be thrown away.”

An insectoid girl with compound eyes, segmented limbs, and wings. She's holding a potion and dressed in a semi-steampunk style

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M. Walsh - Author @m-walshwrites.com · 1d

#amwriting #WIPsnips #WritingCommunity #WriteSky

“She’s been gone too long,” Celeste said, walking back and forth. “She should never have followed that man. What if she doesn’t come back?”
He eased down, still feeling sore, and wrapped himself with the blanket. He had no answer for her but checked his pistol regardless. Just to be safe, he reloaded, too.
“I can’t …” she said, still pacing. “I shouldn’t have let her go. I should’ve gone down there with her. She needs me.”
“Celeste, at this point, it’s pretty clear Lamont does not respond well when people … you in particular … tell her what to do or not do. I don’t know what our options are if she doesn’t return, but if nothing else, we can take heart in knowing she has no intention of dying easily.”
I hope.

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Mx. D. D. Ward (they/them) @ddwardiswriting.bsky.social · 7h

Fiona and Ren in victory.

She stood in a wide stance, arms spread, brass knuckles sparkling in the lamp light. If I could have run into her arms at that point, I would have done so immediately.

“I recommend you run.” Fiona roared into the night, “If you are still alive, this is your last chance to remain so. I am the Countess Fiona Myrddhin. I hunt monsters. You are no threat.”

A drop of blood hit the carpet of the dinner carriage. Lord Andras sighed and slumped. I thought I could read relief in his face.

“That is it. You have won.” Andras said.

Fiona stopped and cleaned her blade with a handkerchief. She nodded. “You fought well. But I am afraid that you have failed to defend the honor of Lady Fawn.”

I walked to Lady Fawn. She stood openmouthed, gaping at the fallen form of Andras.

“Now let me make this clear,” I said, stepping to block Lady Fawn’s view of her master at arms. “This time, I challenged you to a duel. This time we settled the dispute through champions. If you insult our fiance again, you will not be so lucky. Our response will not be so polite. And you will not escape unscathed. Do you understand?”

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Charlie Delta (has been a ghost this whole time! 👻) @charliedeltawrites.bsky.social · 1d

Tell me more about your #AwesomeCharacters

We talked before about how your character handles failure, let's do the opposite: how do they handle success?

Are they a good winner? Do they gloat? Feel like they still need to do more? Downplay their role?

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

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Tara S Ghoul @tarasgeir.bsky.social · 2d

From the sequel of ‘First to Fall’, when Alitzah loses hope, comforting her is awkward. #writesky #writingcommunity #writingprompts

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Mx. D. D. Ward (they/them) @ddwardiswriting.bsky.social · 7h

Charlie Delta (has been a ghost this whole time! 👻) @charliedeltawrites.bsky.social · 1d

#PlotTober Day 13: Story beginnings

I think the story will begin showcasing a rough day in Josh's life, demonstrating why he is currently miserable.

Josh has an argument with his roommate about rent, is berated by his boss at his job, and his date from last night isn't responding to his messages 🧵

Ange @gunsmile.bsky.social · 1d

#PlotTober Day 13: Story beginnings

Answer the prompt on the card by quoting this post. Remember, answering a prompt is always optional. Even if you don't share it publicly, I hope the prompt encourages you to think about it privately.

#WritingCommunity #WritingPrompt #WriteSky

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Charlie Delta (has been a ghost this whole time! 👻) @charliedeltawrites.bsky.social · 23h

October 13th – push

On favors.

Fox needs Av’ry to help her with something complicated.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

He raised the bottle, but Fox put a finger on it and gently pushed it back down. “I need your help with something.”
“Something real, or something to keep me busy so I sober up?”
“Ave, please.”
The look in her eyes made him put the cork back in the bottle. “What happened?” he sighed.
“It’s… complicated.”
“More complicated than everything else that’s happened lately?”
“Not really, I suppose. But messier. And more immediate.”
“Alright,” Av’ry groaned and dry-swallowed a palmful of willow bark. “If I can’t have any whisky, I am going to need some coffee. Immediately. Can we talk in the canteen?”
Fox nodded and they moved out into the tunnels.
After a moment, she cleared her throat. “I spoke to Iella’s widower last night.” She tried for casual but missed by a mile.
“Iella’s husband?!” Av’ry yelped.
“Yeah. He wanted to talk to me about D’arryd.”
“Why would he want to talk to you about the scout that poisoned you?”
“Well, he might be his son. And Iella’s son.”
“He’s your brother!?” Everyone in the canteen turned to stare as they walked in. Av’ry cleared his throat and slipped into a chair.
“Half-brother,” Fox corrected.
“Your half-brother is the one who poisoned you?” He lowered his voice.

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M. Walsh - Author @m-walshwrites.com · 20h

#amwriting #WIPsnips #WritingCommunity #WriteSky

“Lockhart,” Troa said. “Please tell me you didn’t strike a bargain with this woman.”
He’d phrased his summary of the encounter as delicately as he could—careful to emphasize he’d made no deal or commitment—yet he wasn’t surprised their initial reaction was scolding and distress. Troa in particular looked near the end of his rope. It used to be Deck who pushed him like that.

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Samantha Boo-reaux @woodenvelt.bsky.social · 22h

Spencer and Elton deal with some undead critters.

From my romantasy wip about a priest of the dead and a thief with a heart of gold.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity #Wrencer

“Are they supposed to do that?” Elton asked, his head cocked to the side as he watched the remnants with his unusual sight.

The undead constructs quivered, straining against Spencer’s command. The resistance spoke to some other intelligence controlling them, pushing back against his will. The soul of a sentient being possessed enough self-awareness to resist a compulsion, but these things were scraps animated with dribbles of stolen life force. Defiance should have been beyond their meager abilities.

“How many do you think you can manage?” Spencer asked, answering the novice’s question with one of his own. Elton scrunched his face in concentration, one hand clutching at the Gray Lady’s symbol dangling around his neck.

“Three,” the acolyte replied with a determined nod.

“Good. I’ll take the rest.”

Reaching for the tiny sparks of awareness animating the remnants was like sticking one's bare hand into a foul pit. It put Spencer in the mind of gutting an already rotted fish. Despite the roiling in his stomach, he seized hold of seven sparks and squeezed. The Lady’s power rose in him, numbing his fingers with its cold touch, and what passed for minds in the remnants winked out. Their bodies followed, dissolving into lumps of jelly and bone. An uneasy feeling settled heavily in the pit of Spencer’s stomach that had nothing to do with the mess underfoot.

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PapaDjinn is querying @papadjinn.bsky.social · 20h

CW: Sexual Content
Push; this time I'll let the snip speak for itself
#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #bvm #bipoc #amwriting #Fantasy #SFF

A blush and a shiver; a nod and she was his. The switch inside him was flipped, his senses sharpened and he focused every cell within his body. His mouth tasted her and Otalia shivered – his nose caught whiff of a scent and he followed. Down, down, down, his lips traveled below her breast, below her navel, he found that the fragrance lit his heart a blaze. Down, down, down – no he had missed it and although the sample of her supple thigh was divine the aroma is what drew him.

Up, up, slowly now and when her legs twitched, he knew that he had arrived. This precious oasis between his Otalia’s legs beckoned his instincts to the surface and without hesitation, he began to drink. The lord lapped, slowly at first, searching the delicate fruit for the flesh that would cause the juices to flow. A gasp from the lady made his ear flick and his tongue drew on the sensitive button that he had discovered. Deliberately now, with effort now, Tok pushed his hands into her thighs to adjust her posture to meet the moment.

“Mm, don’t you d-dare... slow down,” Otalia moaned out with more authority than Tok would have imagined.

The lord could feel his lady losing control and yet her pride – or her arrogance, of which one he could not decide – led her to command his actions; fortunately, he was in the mood to acquiesce. The more that he teased, the more that he was rewarded with her scent and her nectar and he lapped it up gratefully. It was true now, his Otalia was helpless, and her breathing, moaning and whimpering gave her away. All at once, his head was in a vice, plush thighs pressured him to devour her without thought and soon – his beard was wet.

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👻Scarlet🎃Mitchell☠️ @scarletvmitchell.bsky.social · 23h

#WIPSnips

In which we get a glimpse of page one, where we meet Nora for the first time. Her first word spoken is “No.”

brandy-stained wood and old boots perfumed the damp air and Rudy Dickerson slid a glass of wine onto the bar next to her pint of cider. Her questioning look was answered by a shrug, and he pointed to a man sitting in one of the booths who grinned back with a little wave.
“No,” she said simply, unsmiling. The man gestured toward the seat beside him, invitingly. He was handsome, with an easy, friendly smile that made no demands. She’d seen him before, but didn’t know his name; local enough, but not from the village. Temptation nipped at her heels, but her stomach soured at the thought of doing anything about it. She shook her head, face flat and impassive, before she pushed the glass back towards Rudy and turned back to her cider.
“Ease up, Nora. He’s just trying to be nice.”
“He’s drunk. Besides, I’m not looking.”
“Still hung up on Everett, Huh?”
“No.”
She left it at that. Nora didn’t feel the need to justify her decision to remain single indefinitely. No one ever seemed happy about it, no matter how she tried to explain it. It really wasn’t anyone’s business if her dance card was all filled up with ‘never again’s.

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Nicole "Ashrah" Hidalgo @sayaashrah.bsky.social · 23h

#WIPSnips 13. "Push"

Surely this is just a normal blacksmith shop.

#WorldWithoutLove #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

She shook those thoughts away as she arrived at The Flaming Hammer, a thin building of dark bricks, four floors tall. There were no doors, not of the common kind: a sign depicting the smithing tool wreathed in flames stamped a section of the wall with a small window above it. Inspecting the drawing, Qinyang found a circular hole in the middle of the hammer’s handle, big enough only to fit a coin in… or a ring. She took Neven’s bronze ring and pressed it into the slot.

A click, and that part of the wall detached from the rest, revealing itself a door. Qinyang pushed it open.

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Amanda Turek👻Headless Horsewoman @acturek.bsky.social · 23h

#WIPSnips #fantasy #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #push

During a traditionally non lethal engagement with the Sheltri, one of the the raiders changes the rules … on Rushak.

- Brother’s Keeper, book one of my fantasy WIP about two brothers bound by a misunderstood power.

But it shoved in close; its red eyes and hawkish nose filled his eyes and blurred and darkened into the image of a Kudrum. It became a Kudrum, and once
again it had Lara, it had him. He gasped with terror.

His limbs quivered, softened into soaked roots. It wrestled him to the ground and pulled a knife. He grappled in vain. The thing was going to kill him.

Blue light flared. The creature leapt off him
and fled as his enraged brother menaced it.

He huddled where he had fallen. Scratches
burned on his face. He lifted a trembling hand,
dropped it, PUSHed himself upright. The horrible image flashed in his mind and flashed again before the night resolved. Drisal's hands took hold of him, pulling him to his feet. He staggered free. His jaw ached. Bracken fires glittered all around. Void of thought he plunged into the task of smothering them
one after another until he was winded, then smothered one more.

Brother's Keeper
A.C. Turek

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Eliwood S. Gheist @eliwoodsgheist.com · 1d

Happy #WIPSnips 13 - Push!

From BLUDEYE BEACH. Edie is in her father's house for the first time, and the author got whimsical with the soap.

Edie found her way to a little bathroom off of the massive kitchen. Everything about the decor was what you would expect in an old beach town farmhouse. The vintage curtains had a seashell pattern, but the liquid soap was in a cow-shaped dispenser. She had to push on its little head to make goop come out of its mouth.

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