WIP Wednesday

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for tagging me, @inkymoonbunny !!

Here's a WIP for Chapter 5 of With Stars to Fill My Dream, coming out this coming Sunday 8/11!

Visions of smiles, of tears, of sitting and writing and singing and strumming fill his mind. He sees her happy again in the presence of a different boy- skin and hair and eyes to match hers. They dance in gaudy, flashy outfits amid a crowd of similarly dressed people, all regalia and loud music. It’s unlike anything he’s ever heard, the musicians dressed in black and trimmed with gold, wide hats covering their heads as violins and accordions orchestrate the pretty swirls of Ofelia’s dress. Her smile is brighter than the sun. The next scene snaps into view, devoid of all the life and merriment of the previous one. She stands in black, above a hole in the ground, rain from a gray sky pelting her scalp. Her eyes are empty and rimmed in red. No trace of her former self left.

I know it's small, I'm sorry, but I gotta keep the rest under wraps!

Tagging everyone again- don't feel pressured, I'm just obsessed with you all ❤️

@ladyduellist @preciouslittlebhaalbae @sashitf @verbenaa @elinorbard @khywren

WIP Wednesday

Thank you thank you to @khywren, @xxnashiraxx, @inkymoonbunny, @verbenaa, and @aliasknives for tagging me for WIP Wednesday! I am so appreciative of your tags, and I can't believe I have my act together enough to post on Wednesday for once!

Look, I'm going to be honest: it was hard to pick a section to post because most of my WIP right now is smut. A lot of smut. I am vowing to finish A House, A Home this weekend!! I WILL finish the smut, and I'll throw in more emotional damage as a bonus.

Sooo here's a snippet plucked from the smut:

Enver sighed, and his hands stirred. His right hand remained atop her head but shifted so his thumb idly rubbed against her horn while the metal claws on his other fingers could scrape ever-so-lightly against her scalp. His left hand brushed her cheek and then stroked her neck. Ta’av glanced up at him as she moved back and forth. Her tyrant practically itched to seize control by tightening his grip on her horns, her hair, or her throat. But he restrained himself, barely. She might have teased him, in any other circumstances; instead, she took it as a challenge.

Tagging @defira85, @bhaalbabebardlock, @ladyduellist, and @bakuliwrites if you have anything you'd like to share!

wip wednesday

haven't done one of these in a while but I am finally able to share some new stuff

tagging @elinorbard (thank your for encouraging me to post today), @flamemittens, @femmeharel, @lamortwrites, and @rowanisawriter if you would like to share anything :) it isn’t wednesday anymore for some of you (it barely is for me) but consider it a WIP whenever

cw for dark urge typical content, though not too graphic in this section

She lingers there and feels the steady drumming of his heart. Isoldt could open her mouth, she could bare her teeth, and bite down, and tear. Through the breastplate and the membrane, through the skin and fat and muscle, she could carve clean to the heart of him. She could see for herself how black and shrunken it must be, how shaped by monstrous barbarity. It would be almost as if she held her own heart in her mouth, as if she finally managed to cough it up. How it would pitter in her hands like a little bird. Or something slier.  Enver suddenly straightens, regaining his well-rehearsed composure.  “You killed one of my men,” he says, his voice slightly stiff. Isoldt frowns as she recognizes the tenor. Here he is, again, unsettled. It is the first time she has heard the lilt of fear since the early days of their now-fraying partnership. “I did,” she mumbles against him. And did not.  “We had an agreement,” he continues. She can feel his gaze burning into her, burrowing through the top of her skull. “An agreement that worked, mind you. Which you have now broken.” Isoldt pulls away enough to glare up at him. “And what would you do about it?” “Do not patronize me.” “Never, never,” she replies, both facetious and venomous in one turn. “I ask sincerely. What will you do? Maim me like one of your experiments? Kill me?” His eyes search for something. “Would you kill me, Enver?” She presses the issue yet again, failing to bite back a smile. He could not manage it, of course, but the thought is enticing enough. An inefficient kill. The antithesis of his grand machinations. “I would not give you such satisfaction.”

Your new life is going to cost you your old one.

Do vampires just inherently smell like death? Like are they always decomposing unless they keep themselves well fed/bathed?