withbloodiedfingertips

[withbloodiedfingertips]

target acquired

hello celia lede stan community! i was looking through some of my writing and i found this and, as i’ve been missing celia lately, decided to post it! i’ll probably write a sequel at some point, whenever i’m in the mood - i found a file where i was working on a sequel but, alas, i never actually wrote anything in said file. 

this is an x reader fic and is written with a female reader in mind, as a heads up! this is also what i originally said about it:

“I call this one ‘the alternate universe where Celia doesn���t have the time nor the money to bid on someone to torture so she decides to lure someone the old fashioned way: by being a flirtatiously hot sugar mommy’. In all seriousness, I am absolutely in love with her and I cannot, and I mean cannot, wait for The Price of Flesh to come out so I can see more of her. “

@gatobob on behalf of all female villain stans who are severely deprived of content, i’d like to thank you. celia is very sexy. i hope others take inspiration from you and make some sexy female villains because it’s what we deserve. i hope you’re doing well though! you’re a huge inspiration to me and i just wanted to remind you to take enough breaks, not push yourself, and know that the price of flesh is going to turn out wonderfully. i just know it. 

Celia couldn’t have been having a worse night.

Her husband had decided, last minute, that it’d be the perfect night to surprise her with a fancy dinner. It was one of the only nights of the week where she didn’t have to stay late, making up for all the shit-work the ones beneath her neglected to do during the day. She couldn’t even fire this new batch of hires she’d found to replace the old ones. One way or another, word had spread around town about her being a bitch to work for. She’d critique your work meticulously, practically waiting for you to make like the devil on your shoulder, barking at you to fix it the moment she found it. And if you refused to comply? She’d have you out on the hunt for a new job, like you’d meant nothing to her all along.

At least, they weren’t wrong about that bit.

She would’ve liked going out to dinner like this. This restaurant happened to be one of her favorites. The staff here actually knew what they were doing and waited on you better than any of the other places she’d tried out in the area. Plus, the refills on drinks were free. And if there was anything that would make a night like this easier on Celia, it would be wine. Though it wasn’t the highest quality for an establishment as esteemed as this one claimed to be, it did the trick. She would’ve appreciated it more, all of it, if she were alone. Her husband not only suggested the idea, he planned for an old friend of his to tag along with his own wife, the woman shamelessly taking every opportunity she could to flirt with Celia’s partner of eight years. 

The mere notion of it made her jaw clench tighter, the fake smile she plastered on every time she was within close proximity of her husband fading unknowingly into a deep scowl.

He nudged her out of this rage. “Celia?”

“Yes?” As quickly as it’d left, she’d replaced it with a new one. Brighter this time. Less strained, too. “Sorry, what were we talking about again?”

“I asked you what you thought of the wine.” The blonde across the table smiled. Her coyness enough to thrust Celia right back into the memory of a few weeks prior. Of the woman who’d looked almost exactly like her, though a lot more blood and with screams so piercing they’d nearly damaged her ears the first time she’d heard them. “It’s a bit on the cheaper side, don’t you think?”

“Ah.” She held the neck of her own glass, swirling the dark red liquid around. She leaned in closer to her, lowering her voice to a whisper so that no one but their table would hear. “Between the four of us, I’m pretty sure they swap it out for the cheap stuff after one glass.”

The woman’s husband nodded in agreement alongside Celia’s own. “I couldn’t agree more.”

They all shared a round of hearty laughter, Celia’s trailing off as she noticed you walking back from the bathroom. Her eyes locked with your own for a split-second, stopping only when your gaze dropped to the floor out of a sense of embarrassment. What you didn’t know was that she already knew everything about you from that brief exchange. She knew that you were intimidated by her, yet had enough guts to take a peek at her, despite the consequences you feared would come about from your staring. She liked how weak your arms looked, how easy it would be to lure you over to her place without having to shell out more than the price of a glass of wine. A new-found sense of determination overcame her as she started to get up from the table.

Target locked.

“I’ll be right back.” She kept her eyes trained on you as you made your way to the bar, pushing in her chair so absentmindedly, the impact splattered a few drops of wine onto the crisp, white tablecloth. “Business call.”

Her husband reached out and grabbed for her wrist. She walked right out of it and towards the bar, not caring if he saw where she wound up. There were enough waiters and waitresses bustling about that he shouldn’t have been able to see. But he must’ve been able to tell by how hard she pulled away from him that there wasn’t anything good to come about messing with her now. He’d long since stopped asking questions about where she disappeared to on her days off or why large sums of money seemed to be disappearing from their bank account at random intervals every other month. Her heels clicked on the wooden floor as she found her way to the bar stool beside you, starling you out of your drunken haze. 

“So you are alone.” Celia chuckled, in a way that you couldn’t decide if it was more a gesture of mockery or one of endearment. “I figured you had to be, with the way you looked at me back there, but I couldn’t be too sure.”

Your grip tightened on the hem of your dress. “I didn’t think you noticed me.”

“You couldn’t have stuck out more if you tried.”

Before you could open your mouth to ask her to elaborate, the bartender noticed Celia’s presence, the tone of her voice a mixture of exhaustion and frustration. Must be hard to be on your feet like that all night, you thought. “Can I get you anything?”

“A glass of Merlot, thank you.” She glanced over at your half-drunk bottle of beer, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Oh, sweetheart.” You found yourself blushing beneath her scrutiny. But, how were you supposed to know any better? Fancy restaurants weren’t exactly your go-to in terms of a place to spend your night at. “Darling, get me another glass for this poor creature, would you?”

The bartender nodded, turning away to pull two new glasses from the rack they hung from. You pushed your beer away from you to make room for it once it appeared in front of you. Alcohol might’ve slowed down your reaction time but it did nothing to calm the anxiety you felt from the woman beside you. She exuded confidence like a perfume, making your heart race the more you felt it enveloping you in its scent. Your glass of wine couldn’t have come fast enough. Almost as soon as the lady tending the bar had placed it in front of you had you gulped half of it down. What you neglect to realize in your haste, however, was just how wide you would open your mouth to let the tart liquid in. 

You could feel drops of it fall onto your shirt before you could stop the wine from flowing. 

“Sorry.” You added quickly, grabbing the napkin you’d been resting your beer on earlier to dab away at the dark splotches on your shirt. “It’s my first time here.”

“I figured.” You visibly winced at the disappointment in her tone. She was a lot more open about her criticisms in conversation than you’d expected her to be. “At least your taste in fashion isn’t half-bad.” You readjusted your jacket to cover up the wine stains. Was she naturally born with this gift of subtle jabs to people’s confidence or had someone taught it to her? “Where’d you get that jacket?”

“Online.” You were struggling to keep your voice from wavering, unsure of if you were on her good side or not anymore. You figured it had to be good. She would’ve gone back to her husband if she didn’t care even the slightest bit about you, right? Or was she so fed up with him that anyone else talking to her would do? “I can’t remember the exact shop but I know that it was limited edition. They probably don’t make them anymore.”

“What a shame.” She pulled your hand out of your lap and into hers, running her thumb along the cuff. “Isn’t it a bit too hot in here to be wearing wool?”

You shook your head. “I get cold easily, so…” 

You couldn’t finish your sentence as her fingers made her way up your arm. Her nails were harder than you thought they’d be, though you figured that was to be expected from acrylics. “My, my. You sure are shy once you get the attention from whoever you decided to ogle, huh?”

“I’ve never actually had one of them come up and talk to me.” You were certain she could feel how fast your pulse was from the spot on your wrist she’d busied herself with running her finger over. “You’re the first.”

She grinned devilishly, her dark brown lip gloss making her lips seem so irresistible, you had to force yourself to look anywhere else but at them.  “Is that so?”

You sat there in silence for a minute, searching your mind desperately for something, anything, to say next. But it didn’t seem like she cared. She almost looked as if she was enjoying you more with your mouth shut than open. Something about the way her eyes flickered over your entire form made you both terrified yet intrigued. She was certainly more than you bargained for when you’d unintentionally gawked at her but you weren’t necessarily complaining. She was different from the women you were used to meeting. She wasn’t all over you like they were, leading you out into an alley or another bar down the road somewhere where the two of you could be more free-wheeling than where you currently were.

She wanted something else from you. Something you couldn’t quite figure out. A sadist, you were almost certain she was, but it wasn’t just that. There seemed to be some reasoning behind it you couldn’t quite place. Did she want to fuck you up and kill you, so she could steal all that you were once she was done with you? Or did she want to do it for something more sinister, reasons that you tried to push from your mind the moment you thought of them? Whatever it was, you didn’t care. Those green eyes had sucked you in so far that you’d let her do anything she wanted to you. As long as she’d keep looking at you the way she was then. Like you had something to offer to her, as pathetic as you knew she believed you now to be.

With your luck, you could prove to her that you were useful for something. 

“I have a proposition for you.” She took a sip from her wine glass, you watching the way that the muscles in her throat bobbed up and down in time with her swallowing. “One I’m sure you won’t refuse.”

You perked up at the sound of this. “What is it?”

“I can’t tell you anything until we’re actually alone.” You watched as she pulled a business card out from her bag, placing it on the counter in front of you, careful to avoid your accidental spillage of wine. “Everything you need to know is on here.”

Sure enough, written on the back was an address that anyone would’ve recognized if they lived in this city long enough. 

“You’re the one who bought that building out?” Your jaw practically dropped when you realized who you were speaking to. “You’re Celia Lede?”

She seemed pleased to be recognized more out of admiration than what you could only imagine most other’s reactions would be to her. “In the flesh.”

Whenever you’d pictured Celia, you’d imagined her as some fifty-something year old woman with forehead wrinkles and a pantsuit that she had multiple colors of that she wore everywhere. Not anything like the young woman who sat in front of you, in a tasteful black cocktail dress with a pair of heels so pointed, you wondered if they could kill someone if she stepped on them. You were rendered speechless at her beauty and her personality. She wasn’t as quick to snap as you’d expected her to be, though you hadn’t necessarily done anything like botched reports or failed to repair the copy machine in the office. She seemed tired, sure, but nothing out of the ordinary for someone like her. You couldn’t begin to imagine the amount of stress and pressure she was under each and every day.

You always admired her for continuing with her work the way she was, instead of quitting like most would. 

“Thank you.” You whispered without thinking as she hopped down from her barstool, knowing she must’ve overstayed her welcome. “When do you want me by?”

“Saturday at nine in the morning.” She pulled your hand to her lips and gave it a kiss. You wished that you could press your lips to it as soon as she was done without seeming weird for wanting to feel even the slightest bit of her on you. “See you then, darling.”

Celia walked back to her table, leaving you awestruck at the bar. In her mind, all of the gory scenarios of everything she could get away with doing to you played through. How shocked you’d be when you found out what her true nature was, though she suspected that you knew already. And she suspected that you knew she’d figure that you’d noticed just how observant she was. Just, not to the extent of which she possessed this knack for knowing exactly what made people tick. Whether it be out of pleasure or fear.  You’d eased all of the frustration she’d been feeling in barely twenty minutes. So much so that, when she approached her husband, she greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. He widened his eyes at her, careful to not look too shocked in front of his friends at this sudden token of affection. 

“I apologize for taking so long.” Her laughter was lighter now, less strained than it had been half an hour before. The muscles she’d suspected her husband to have been tensing eased as he leaned back a bit in his chair. “But I’ve made some arrangements that’ll be quite beneficial to me going forward.” She turned back to glance at you for a moment. “Very beneficial.” 

She grabbed her knife and fork off of the table, taking a satisfied bite of her steak as she knew she had you wrapped around her finger, lured right into her trap by her charms.

Target acquired.

[withbloodiedfingertips]

made my own goretober prompt list!

[withbloodiedfingertips]

writing has been exceptionally hard for me lately but, i wrote this about a week or so ago and figured i’d share it so here’s a bit of a glimpse into draven’s childhood and what’s eventually going to be how he became one of the youngest assassins the kingdom of hearts ever knew 

[withbloodiedfingertips]

50 Interesting OC Asks

1. What is a rumor people tell about them? 2. How long would they last in the zombie apocalypse?  3. If they’re about to get in a fight, what song plays in their head as their ‘hype song’? 4. How important is family to them? 5. If they had a theme song, what would it be? 6. What’s a movie they can quote from start to finish? 7. Are they more of a leader or a follower? 8. If they were given 1000 acres of land with no strings attached, what would they do with it?  9. If they had to flee their home country, where would they live? 10. Do they think psychic abilities exist? Which one would they like to have? 11. What was their favourite fairy tale growing up? 12. What’s a skill or craft they would like to master, but haven’t? 13. How did they find out Santa isn’t real? 14. What’s a personality trait they wish they had? 15. Do they believe in getting revenge on those who wrong them? If so, how do they go about it? 16. If they were arrested with no explanation, what would their friends and family think they had done? 17. In 40 years, what will they be the most nostalgic about? 18. How would they describe their family?  19. If they could shop for free at one store, what would it be? 20. Do they have any pets? If so, what are they? 21. If they had to bury treasure, how would they hide it? 22. If they were given a one minute ad slot during the Super Bowl that they couldn’t sell, what would they fill it with? 23. What’s the most important object they own? 24. What event in their life would make a good movie? 25. If there was a day held in their honor, what would people have to do on that day? 26. If they could dedicate their life to solving one problem, what would it be? 27. What makes a person beautiful to them? 28. If they turned into their crush/significant other for a day, what would they do? 29. What do they do/act like when they’re angry? 30. What would be their perfect day? 31. How would they conquer the Earth? 32. If they could swim in any liquid what would it be and why? 33. Where do they find meaning in their life? 34. What percentage of their life have they felt truly alive? 35. What job were they born to do? 36. Do they believe things happen for a reason? 37. What do they think is a conspiracy? 38. Do they believe in magic? 39. Do they believe in the afterlife? How do they picture it? 40. What’s a superstition they believe in? 41. What is the dumbest way they’ve ever been injured? 42. Do they drink/smoke/do drugs?  43. What’s the best and worst purchase they’ve ever made? 44. Can they cook? What’s their favourite dish to make? 45. Do they mind conflict?  46. What is something silly they’ve been tricked into believing? 47. If they could start a charity what would it be for? 48. If they were a cryptid (bigfoot, mothman, ect.) what would they be? 49. What’s their ideal temperature and weather? 50. What topic could they give a 20 minute presentation on with no preparation? 

[withbloodiedfingertips]

Hello ~ Idk if you've seen the 50 Interesting OC Asks, but here I am with a question for Morana and Draven! What topic could they give a 20 minute presentation on with no preparation?

first of all, no i haven’t heard of that but that sounds so cool what in the world? i’ll have to find that post then and reblog it because i’d love to answer more questions about my kids! 

as for what topics draven and morana could give a 20 minute presentation on...

draven: as a former assassin - who also served his fair share of time as a spy for the kingdom of hearts - draven would have no problem teaching people about the art of eavesdropping. thanks to his former affiliation with royalty, he’d also be a wicked teacher in the art of mimicking royalty - which morana claims to find mocking, whenever he brings it up, but he always notices the hint of a smile on her face whenever he does 

morana: i wouldn’t put it past morana to make a twenty minute presentation about why cats are the best companion in the entire world and how dearly she misses her own cat, celeste. though for a few more practical choices, i’d like to think she’s very skilled in the art of lying to your parents so you can still pursue your passions beneath their noses, as well as how to cope (kind of) with being exiled from your kingdom. which pretty much just means find someone else who was exiled from their kingdom (draven) and latch onto them for dear life

[withbloodiedfingertips]

i essentially have this grand plan to write stories for both morana and draven regarding their official backstories, so here’s a bit of a peek at morana’s! i love her to absolute bits and writing about her is such a joy. 

though i definitely should be focusing on the short stories i have to work on for creative writing, this is just a nice way to take my mind off of things and more content for those of you interested in my ocs!

[withbloodiedfingertips]

well i’m glad you were able to save it before it disappeared to because bianca’s beyond gorgeous and i absolutely adore her so yes, i’d love for draven to be her boss! i think that’d be such an awesome idea! 

an introduction to my ocs: twisted wonderland edition!

hello, hello! after seeing my fair share of absolutely amazing twisted wonderland ocs, i decided to try my hand at making some of my own! especially since i’ve been obsessed with tim burton’s alice in wonderland for a long, long time now and wanted to incorporate my love of that with my love of twisted wonderland! the knave of hearts and the white queen were always extremely captivating to me, aesthetic wise, so i thought they’d be the perfect basis for my ocs! i do hope you enjoy them and please, feel free to send in asks about them! i’d be happy to answer any questions! 

a special thank you to both @minoux​ and @octavinelle-mafia​ because if i hadn’t stumbled across their ocs, i doubt i would’ve ever had the courage to make my own, so thank you both! 

i apologize in advance if me tagging you bothers you, i don’t usually but i just wanted to let you both know that you’re insanely inspiring and super creative and i appreciate you both so much!

side note: i made both of their images in picrew so if you’d like the link to either of them, just let me know! 

name: draven talehot

age: 27

birthday: january 13th

zodiac sign: capricorn

twisted from: the knave of hearts

role at night raven college: a (very shady) librarian who can find you books on topics you didn’t even know existed 

personality: draven is extremely cold and calculating, at first glance. he’s reluctant to trust anybody - who isn’t morana, that is - and will most likely lie when asked any personal questions about himself, just to prevent anybody from finding anything out about him. he’s a marvelous tutor to all the students of night raven, albeit a bit harsh, but he’s able to improve even the worst of test scores in a matter of days. there’s hardly a moment you’ll find him without a book in his hands, scribbling down notes in the neatest, most type writer like handwriting you’ve ever seen, especially on alchemy. he gets a big kick out of teasing everyone - he’s very much a smug bastard who likes flaunting his intelligence whenever he can - but tries to refrain from going too far, especially after his jokes got him in trouble more than a few times in the past with morana. if you can get him to let his guard down, there is a warmer side to him, one that’s far more nurturing in nature than he’d ever let on. it’s why morana constantly tells everyone they have the wrong idea of draven, since he took such good care of her in her teenage years and continues to, even now. he’s insanely observant when it comes to other people, thanks to his past as an assassin, so it should come as no surprise that he sometimes uses this information as a  means of getting favors out of the students, most having to do with stealing lab equipment or whatnot for morana. 

name: morana whittemore

age: 22

birthday: february 23rd

zodiac sign: pisces 

twisted from: the white queen

role at night raven college: the gardener who tends to the plants on school grounds only at night, leading many first year students to believe that she’s nothing more than a myth of the school 

personality: morana has a curiosity that knows no bounds, paired with a voracious appetite for any alchemy book she can get her hands on, and it’s no wonder that she’s known for breaking more than a few of the students’ lab materials - and trying her best to super glue them back together, to try and cover the evidence. the magic she dabbles in is a bit darker than most - based in blood and bone as opposed to the elements - but she never uses it for anything malicious. those few times that she comes out of hiding and talks to the students of night raven, her royal roots show, always curtsying and speaking far too formally, only to realize and blush profusely while apologizing for absolutely everything she’s said. she often spends her nights wishing upon stars to send her back to wonderland - so that she can live her life as a commoner like she always dreamed, in a little cabin in the woods, honing her magic in the way that she wanted to. she’s quite the hopeless romantic, though not one who believes in love at first sight. she believes that love is something that happens over time, not something that you rush into. if you get her to talk about something she’s passionate about, she’ll go on for hours and hours about it, though apologize countless times throughout to check and make sure that she’s not boring you with what she calls her lectures. she clings to draven for dear life, constantly asking for his input about the most ridiculous of things. though she might long for romance, she’s not the biggest fan of it in books - vastly preferring horror and dark fantasy over anything lovey dovey. 

[withbloodiedfingertips]

an introduction to my ocs: twisted wonderland edition!

hello, hello! after seeing my fair share of absolutely amazing twisted wonderland ocs, i decided to try my hand at making some of my own! especially since i’ve been obsessed with tim burton’s alice in wonderland for a long, long time now and wanted to incorporate my love of that with my love of twisted wonderland! the knave of hearts and the white queen were always extremely captivating to me, aesthetic wise, so i thought they’d be the perfect basis for my ocs! i do hope you enjoy them and please, feel free to send in asks about them! i’d be happy to answer any questions! 

a special thank you to both @minoux​ and @octavinelle-mafia​ because if i hadn’t stumbled across their ocs, i doubt i would’ve ever had the courage to make my own, so thank you both! 

i apologize in advance if me tagging you bothers you, i don’t usually but i just wanted to let you both know that you’re insanely inspiring and super creative and i appreciate you both so much!

side note: i made both of their images in picrew so if you’d like the link to either of them, just let me know! 

name: draven talehot

age: 27

birthday: january 13th

zodiac sign: capricorn

twisted from: the knave of hearts

role at night raven college: a (very shady) librarian who can find you books on topics you didn’t even know existed 

personality: draven is extremely cold and calculating, at first glance. he’s reluctant to trust anybody - who isn’t morana, that is - and will most likely lie when asked any personal questions about himself, just to prevent anybody from finding anything out about him. he’s a marvelous tutor to all the students of night raven, albeit a bit harsh, but he’s able to improve even the worst of test scores in a matter of days. there’s hardly a moment you’ll find him without a book in his hands, scribbling down notes in the neatest, most type writer like handwriting you’ve ever seen, especially on alchemy. he gets a big kick out of teasing everyone - he’s very much a smug bastard who likes flaunting his intelligence whenever he can - but tries to refrain from going too far, especially after his jokes got him in trouble more than a few times in the past with morana. if you can get him to let his guard down, there is a warmer side to him, one that’s far more nurturing in nature than he’d ever let on. it’s why morana constantly tells everyone they have the wrong idea of draven, since he took such good care of her in her teenage years and continues to, even now. he’s insanely observant when it comes to other people, thanks to his past as an assassin, so it should come as no surprise that he sometimes uses this information as a  means of getting favors out of the students, most having to do with stealing lab equipment or whatnot for morana. 

name: morana whittemore

age: 22

birthday: february 23rd

zodiac sign: pisces 

twisted from: the white queen

role at night raven college: the gardener who tends to the plants on school grounds only at night, leading many first year students to believe that she’s nothing more than a myth of the school 

personality: morana has a curiosity that knows no bounds, paired with a voracious appetite for any alchemy book she can get her hands on, and it’s no wonder that she’s known for breaking more than a few of the students’ lab materials - and trying her best to super glue them back together, to try and cover the evidence. the magic she dabbles in is a bit darker than most - based in blood and bone as opposed to the elements - but she never uses it for anything malicious. those few times that she comes out of hiding and talks to the students of night raven, her royal roots show, always curtsying and speaking far too formally, only to realize and blush profusely while apologizing for absolutely everything she’s said. she often spends her nights wishing upon stars to send her back to wonderland - so that she can live her life as a commoner like she always dreamed, in a little cabin in the woods, honing her magic in the way that she wanted to. she’s quite the hopeless romantic, though not one who believes in love at first sight. she believes that love is something that happens over time, not something that you rush into. if you get her to talk about something she’s passionate about, she’ll go on for hours and hours about it, though apologize countless times throughout to check and make sure that she’s not boring you with what she calls her lectures. she clings to draven for dear life, constantly asking for his input about the most ridiculous of things. though she might long for romance, she’s not the biggest fan of it in books - vastly preferring horror and dark fantasy over anything lovey dovey. 

[withbloodiedfingertips]

in loving memory -  a screenplay

as with most things i’ve been writing lately, this was an assignment for my creative writing class that i never got around to sharing! i posted some of it on my main account but i did wind up finishing it and, while it’s not the best and i may or may not have based it off of a certain pair of twins, it was still fun to write. it is a bit sad so i’m warning you in advance but i hope you enjoy!

side note: i know the formatting’s messed up so if anyone wants the link to the actual doc to read it, let me know!

INT. - JULIAN'S OPERATION ROOM - DAY

The inside of the operating room is practically empty, save for a singular operating table and cart stocked full of various medicines, atop which rests a metal tray holding a slew of bloodied medical tools. Julian - a 25 year old man who looks far more disheveled than most others his age - stands beside the cart, scalpel in hand, staining the towel in his hands crimson as the chrome color returns to its blade. A knock startles him out of his cleaning, metal clanking against the floor, swearing under his breath as he bends down to retrieve the instrument. He sighs bitterly, fixing the door with a scathing glare.

JULIAN

(calling out to the person behind the door, frustrated)

Come in!

In steps Zachary - a near mirror image of Julian, though with far more scars and tattoos, dressed in far shabbier clothing than his brother - a smug grin on his face. A pack of cigarettes bursts out of the right front pocket of his jeans, in the left, the shiny metallic handle of a gun glinting beneath the bright overhead lights of the operating room. 

ZACHARY

(tauntingly)

How'd the operation go, little brother?

Julian shoots him a glare, one that Zachary responds to with only a nonchalant shrug, clearly still expecting him to answer.

JULIAN

(through gritted teeth)

Asks the man who was supposed to be here to help me hours ago.

Zachary winces under the heat of his brother's words, fussing with the zipper of his leather jacket. There's a beat of silence before he musters up the courage to respond.

ZACHARY

Sorry. I ran into a bit of trouble on the way over here.

Julian raises a skeptic brow.

JULIAN

What kind of trouble?

Zachary doesn't hesitate with his response, voice dipping into a far more serious tone than the joking one he used earlier.

ZACHARY

Nothing you need to worry about. I took care of it.

Another beat of silence passes. Julian takes this moment to return his attention back to the scalpel in his hand, not before he notices Zachary's narrowed eyes at the other tools on the tray, still coated in a thick layer of blood.

JULIAN

(impatiently)

What?

Zachary shakes his head as if he's snapping himself out of a daze.

ZACHARY

Sorry. It's just...

JULIAN

Just?

He hesitates for a second, almost as if he doesn't want to say the words out loud, before speaking again.

ZACHARY

You're usually faster at cleaning up.

Zachary watches as his brother's lips curl into a grim smile, nodding in understanding at what the fate of the patient he'd seen that day must've been.

JULIAN

(musing)

He was young, you know. Just a few days shy of his twenty-fourth birthday.

ZACHARY

You know how much I wish I could've been here to help.

Julian's gaze becomes stone cold, the words that come from his mouth sharp and succinct, meant to impart the severity of the situation of his naive twin.

JULIAN

That's the third time this month alone that you've said that.

Zachary looks physically wounded by his brother's coldness. His pointer finger drifts instinctively to the trigger of his gun, tapping it lightly in a frantic rhythm, in a feeble attempt to calm his nerves. He swallows, struggles to find an excuse, but comes up with nothing but the dryness in his throat.

ZACHARY

I'm trying, alright? Things are getting dangerous out there, Julian. I can't-

JULIAN

(with more than a bit of venom)

Can't what, Zachary? Spare even a second out of your busy day, dealing drugs and gambling in crappy bars, to help save someone's life?

Julian doesn't even acknowledge his brother's silence - simply fills the void of sound with the sound of metal clanging against glass, liquid pouring into glass, the quiet hiss of peroxide bubbling as any remaining germs are cleaned straight off the surface of the scalpel. Zachary tenses, looks at the wheels on the cart as if he's contemplating kicking one of them, before deciding against it with a shake of his head.

ZACHARY

(under his breath)

I thought you trusted me.

For a minute, Zachary simply stares at him, both transfixed by his brother's swift movements as he moves on now to a pair of forceps and anxious as to whether or not he heard his words at all. Once Julian has finished cleaning the forceps, his demeanor seems to have shifted, the aura he emits no longer one of disappointment but of sadness, regret. Some feeling that Zachary has a hard time placing, until he speaks again.

JULIAN

(in a whisper)

I used to trust you.

Julian looks pained to even hear the words leave his mouth, brown eyes holding such deep melancholy that Zachary doesn't even have the time to be offended by his words. Instead he rests a hand on his twin's shoulder, turning Julian to face him,

ZACHARY

(devastated, almost as if he were trying to hold back tears)

Then why don't you now? What changed, Julian?

Julian remains silent, unable to meet Zachary's gaze, no matter how desperately his brother might want him to. Zachary looks as if he might break, as if any sudden movement Julian might make would shatter him like glass, irreparable.

ZACHARY (CONT’D)

What do I have to do to earn it back?

Julian nods down towards the pack of cigarettes in Zachary's pocket, who lets go of his twin to wrap his fingers around the carton. His grip on them is almost possessive, as if they are one of the few things in this world that still brings him some joy, fearful of what Julian might do if he lets them go.

JULIAN

Getting rid of those would be a good place to start.

Zachary's biting the inside of his cheek now, and it's clear by the way his jaw is set that he's beyond displeased with Julian's suggestion.

ZACHARY

(indignantly)

I'm down to a pack a week, alright? I can't exactly quit cold turkey.

Julian nods understandably. The gesture comes so naturally to him, almost on instinct, but it relieves some of the conversation's tension all the same.

JULIAN

I know. I would never expect you to do that.

Zachary lets out a sigh of relief, a relief that's short-lived, once he realizes that his brother hasn't finished speaking yet. The right side of Julian's mouth quirks up into a knowing smile, while Zachary's remains neutral, as undisturbed of an expression as he can muster.

JULIAN (CONT’D)

But last time I saw you, there were two cigarettes in that box. Now there looks to be about, hm, eight?

Zachary doesn't even fight the accusation, opting instead to change the subject as quickly as he possibly can.

ZACHARY

What about you?

Julian tries to not let the question affect him, to mirror that practiced calm Zachary currently has so deeply etched into his features, but it's clear his brother caught him off-guard.

JULIAN

What about me?

Zachary rolls his eyes, scoffing at Julian's pathetic attempt to feign innocence.

ZACHARY

Don't play dumb, Julian. I've seen the empty bottles of whiskey piling up around our place.

Julian readjusts the cuffs of his white lab coat, stalling for enough time to form a proper response.

JULIAN

That's different.

ZACHARY

How?

JULIAN

I'm doing it in moderation.

ZACHARY

(sarcastically)

Because drinking an entire bottle of whiskey and passing out on the bathroom floor every weekend is definitely 'in moderation'.

Julian stays silent, the only noises in the room are the near silent sounds of their breathing and the clink of a metal chain. From beneath his shirt he pulls out a locket, a motion that Zachary mirrors with the one around his own neck. They're matching, each engraved with the other's name on it and as they each pry them open, inside lies a picture of both of them when they were young with their mother, her arms wrapped around them and the proudest smile on her face.

JULIAN

(looking down at the locket wistfully)

You remember what mom made us promise, before she died?

ZACHARY

To ask the nurse what kind of perfume she wore so she could buy some for herself?

This earns him a chuckle from Julian, who shakes his head, the melancholy from before back and more evident than ever in his warm brown irises, which fix Zachary with a knowing glance.

JULIAN

That, no matter what, we'd keep each other from dying of anything other than old age.

Zachary sighs. A happy sigh, one that tugs at the edges of his lips, pulling them into that goofy grin that never fails to bring a smile to Julian's own face. Zachary pulls the cigarettes out of his pocket, holding them out to Julian, whose brows furrow, his expression growing puzzled.

ZACHARY

I can't promise you that I won't buy more but... it's a start.

Julian takes the pack and tucks it into his own coat pocket, clearly grateful that his brother's willing to make such a sacrifice, even if it is a small one.

He pauses to think for a moment before pulling a flask out of his back pocket and shoving it in Zachary's hands, as if the flask were coated in acid that threatened to eat straight through his skin, if he didn't let go of it fast enough.

JULIAN

I have five backups at home, so it won't stop me from drinking, but it's the biggest, so...

Zachary tucks the flask into the inner pocket of his leather jacket. Julian, believing they're done with this conversation, starts to reach out for the next tool he needs to clean, only to be crushed in a hug by his brother. He freezes in Zachary's strong grip for a moment, unsure of what to do, before finally deciding to wrap his arms around him.

ZACHARY

(in a whisper)

Thank you, Julian.

Julian tears up at the desperation in Zachary's voice, at how he's begun to shake ever so slightly in his arms. He holds on tighter to his brother - with such strength that it nearly knocks the wind out of him. But Julian doesn't notice, simply keeps holding onto him.

JULIAN

I should be the one thanking you. Without that money of yours, I wouldn't be here right now.

The scene ends with Zachary finally worming his way out of Julian's grip, taking one of the tools up from the tray and beginning to clean it. Julian rolls his eyes and snatches it up from him, choosing not to scold him for sanitizing it incorrectly but teaching him the proper way, nodding towards another towel so he can mirror his movements. And, with a final shared bit of laughter between the two of them at Zachary making yet another mistake, everything fades to black.

[withbloodiedfingertips]

i can’t actually share anything from the story i’m working on or i could very well be disqualified from the contest so to make up for that: have some picrews i made of the protagonist, grace and her beloved dollmaker - who isn’t even real, but the villain of a story her mother told her long ago that she fell deeply in love with and vowed to do anything to get him to love her

i love grace so much i don’t want anything bad to happen to her but the ending of this story isn’t happy and i just... grace :(((

[withbloodiedfingertips]

rosy cheeks, sapphire eyes sounds like such an innocent title for a story so i’m personally apologizing in advance to whatever poor souls are judging this contest i’m entering and go into it expecting something wholesome and sweet, only to get a horror story instead

[withbloodiedfingertips]

Writer Ask Meme: 2, 26, 51, 54! (Btw I love the aesthetic of this blog!! Its so cool! OwO)

aw thank you so much! i’ve always been a sucker for the whole red and black aesthetic, and i feel like i always do my best making horror themed layouts so i kind of wanted to pull from that for this account’s aesthetic! plus i think the red/black theme goes with my url so i’m glad you love it!

2. my favorite place to write depends, honestly? sometimes i go upstairs into my parents bedroom during the day with a notebook and turn on some music in the background and work on writing something but more often than not, my best writing’s done in the comfort of my own bed, wrapped up in a ton of blankets and a giant cup of tea in the middle of the night. always in the comfort of my own home though! 

26. i always research extensively when it comes to names but honestly, the overall concept of my plague romance book has been probably the most overall research i’ve ever done? i actually am writing about a specific outbreak of the bubonic plague that took place in london in 1665 to 1666 so i’ve been carefully looking up everything i can find about that - fatality rates, all of the symptoms of the plagues, etc - and while it is extremely disturbing and gruesome, it is weirdly interesting to read about it!

51. in real life? i generally give people very vague descriptions to those who ask about it but online? i’m very open with my friends about the books i’m writing! it really depends on how comfortable i am around a person and how much i feel like they’re ready to know, since i don’t want to scare off any new friends i’m making

54. so far i definitely think it’s the plague romance book one that takes the cake for my “favorite” opening, just because it’s? so disturbing? i love the opening of worst case scenario too just because it’s goes from being so full of hope and joy to heartbreaking and vengeful and that’s really the overall tone of the story, how the shattering of hope can completely destroy a person and turn them into someone else entirely. plus i just love writing about little cullom, that boy is my son. 

[withbloodiedfingertips]

Writer Ask Meme

1. Tell us about your WIP!

2. Where is your favorite place to write?

3. What is your favorite/least favorite part about writing?

4. Do you have any writing habits/rituals?

5. Top five formative books?

6. Favorite character you’ve written?

7. Favorite/most inspirational book?

8. Do you have any writing buddies or critique partners?

9. Favorite/least favorite tropes?

10. Pick an author (or writing friend) to co-write a book with

11. What are you planning to work on next?

12. Which story of yours do you like best? why?

13. Describe your writing process

14. What does it take for you to be ready to write a book? (i.e. do you research? outline? make a playlist or pinterest board? wing it?)

15. How do you deal with self-doubt when writing?

16. Cover love/dream covers?

17. What things (scenes/topics/character types) are you most comfortable writing?

18. Tell us about that one book you’ll never let anyone read

19. How do you cope with writer’s block?

20. Any advice for young writers/advice you wish someone would have given you early on?

21. What aspect of your writing are you most proud of?

22. Tell us about the books on your “to write” list

23. Most anticipated upcoming books?

24. Do you remember the moment you decided to become a writer/author?

25. What’s your worldbuilding process like?

26. What’s the most research you’ve ever put into a book?

27. Every writer's least favorite question - where does your inspiration come from? Do you do certain things to make yourself more inspired? Is it easy for you to come up with story ideas?

28. How do you stay focused on your own work and how do you deal with comparison?

29. Is writing more of a hobby or do you write with the intention of getting published?

30. Do you like to read books similar to your project while you’re drafting or do you stick to non-fiction/un-similar works?

31. Top five favorite books in your genre?

32. On average how much do you write in a day? do you have trouble staying focused/getting the word count in?

33. What’s your revision/rewriting process like?

34. Unpopular writing thoughts/opinions?

35. Post the last sentence you wrote

36. Post a snippet

37. Do you ever write long handed or do you prefer to type everything?

38. How do you nail voice in your books?

39. Do you spend a lot of time analyzing and studying the work of authors you admire?

40. Do you look up to any of your writer buddies?

41. Are there any books you feel have shaped you as a writer?

42. How many drafts do you usually write before you feel satisfied?

43. How do you deal with rejection?

44. Why (and when) did you decide to become a writer?

45. First or third person?

46. Past or present tense?

47. Single or dual/multi POV?

48. Do you prefer to write skimpy drafts and flesh them out later, or write too much and cut it back?

49. Favorite fictional world?

50. Do you share your rough drafts or do you wait until everything is all polished?

51. Are you a secretive writer or do you talk with your friends about your books?

52. Who do you write for?

53. What is the first line of your WIP?

54. Favorite first line/opening you’ve written?

55. How do you manage your time/make time for writing? (do you set aside time to write every day or do you only write when you have a lot of free time?)

[withbloodiedfingertips]

an introduction to my characters: the protagonists

i decided that, for much needed context going forward, i’d introduce all of the protagonists (and their love interests, who are usually the dual protagonist of the novel) and the basic plots of all of my books so that you have a bit of an idea what to expect from this blog! i love all of these characters with my entire heart so if you ever have any questions about them, please feel free to ask! or if you want to know more about any of these books, just let me know! i’m gonna put all of the info under the cut just because i have a feeling this is going to be a bit of a long post, because i cannot shut up when it comes to my original characters, so i’m sorry in advance!

the resurrectionist:

summary:

moving away from home was supposed to make maisie’s life better.

she was supposed to fall in love, not get her heart broken by the only person who’d ever made her truly feel safe. she was supposed to make more friends, not actively hide from her coworkers unwanted attention in the backroom. she was supposed to be more than she was in high school, not wind up trapped in a shitty apartment with no hope of affording anything larger. she believes that she’s going to be stuck like this until she dies, wondering exactly what it is she’s sticking around for. 

that is, until she meets akira, who inexplicably takes her in as a friend. 

but is friendship really all he wants, or is it something more?

the characters:

maisie lovage:

i’d be lying if i said that i didn’t base maisie off of myself, in more ways than one. i always refer to her as essentially what i wish my future life could be like, if i had the courage to actually pursue it, though hers is a lot sadder than i always imagined mine to be. she’s a twenty two year old who is a huge fan of this japanese author - ayako uchida - and that’s pretty much the catalyst for her meeting with akira! maisie used to be much more of a dreamer when she was younger - she used to always imagine herself as a famous artist, showing her work in art galleries - but nowadays art’s more of a hobby she can barely bring herself to pursue anymore. she does sketch whenever things are slow at her job though, she’s a receptionist at a tattoo parlor. i think maisie’s different than me in a whole lot of ways, but at our cores we’re really similar. i don’t know. she’s just such a sweetheart there isn’t much i can say about her other than she’s grown far more cynical as she’s gotten older but still tries to be as nice as she can to others, though she snaps a lot easier at them if they manage to get on her nerves. 

akira uchida:

i’m going to try not to spoil much about his character, because i don’t know if you all want to know what the major plot twist of this book is yet or not, but i love akira with all of my heart. he’s such a broken character - his father abused both him and his mother, and viewed the latter as nothing more than his property. his mother actually is maisie’s favorite author, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he’s her son and that she’s never going to be writing any more novels since she’s no longer alive. he’s twenty six years old and has some of the scariest icy blue eyes that maisie’s ever seen - his father’s eyes, which he hates more than anything. he’s tried to adjust his appearance from when he was younger as a means of escaping from his old life - akira uchida isn’t even his real name, it’s what his mother wanted to name him but never got the chance to. he’s tall and calculating, distant yet warms up almost immediately around maisie - though more because he loves teasing her for her naivety and how she still acts quite young at heart. i’m gonna leave it there because i think i’m going to spoil more about his character if i don’t but yeah! 

worst case scenario:

summary:

to be honest i don’t really have a great summary for this one so basically: lawrence is the son of one of the most powerful hero in the city that he and cullom live in, the latter who is the extremely poor son of a single mother who he barely sees, thanks to how often she works. they’ve been best friends for their entire lives, aspiring to fight as heroes and protect the citizens of their beloved city side by side, until one fateful day when they decide to break into lawrence’s father’s old hero equipment. because heroes in this world aren’t born or made, they’re bought with money. a fact that lawrence’s father makes abundantly clear to cullom, who still believed there was some way for someone like him to save others without having to spend ridiculous amount of money. when cullom runs out of lawrence’s place and asks him for comfort, the hero’s son merely replies that his father’s right and that he’s sorry. this causes cullom to basically go on such a downward spiral that, one day at the tender age of ten, he decides to run away from home. as he’s wandering around the rougher part of town, he sees a scuffle between a hero and a villain in an alleyway, and decides to pick up the villain’s gun and shoot the hero straight in the back of the head to save him. the villain thanks him and basically adopts him into the little family of villains they have living at this one bar, and the rest is basically history! cullom’s being trained up to be a sniper while lawrence is being trained up to inherit his father’s legacy. a lot of angsty conflict ensues for obvious reasons. 

the characters:

cullom cade:

this boy is my son. he’s one of my absolute favorite characters to write about because he’s, as most of my characters tend to be, so insanely broken in so many ways and just breaks further as the story progresses. and it’s that shattering that makes him sharper, darkens his heart to be only a distant shadow of what it once was. what i really focus on with him is this insanely pure, precious child’s descent into being far more morally grey than he originally was, but realizing with that, that the heroes aren’t actually the good guys. they’re insanely corrupt, which is what the villains are fighting back against. it’s painful to write about a character who still wants to be good but doesn’t really have the option to and grows pretty much complacent and, eventually, understanding of why he can’t be morally good but i think it’s an important story to tell. another important thing to mention is that cullom has pretty much an obsession with making lawrence pay - though there’s more feelings beneath that, as he realizes that he might’ve been more than a bit in love with him back when they were younger. i should add that cullom does grow up over the course of this novel. he’s not a ten year old forever. they don’t actually let a ten year old go out on missions. a fair bit of this book focuses on his actual training and him screwing up his first mission and all that. he also adopts a child at some point for very sad reasons i won’t reveal but it’s very cute. i love this bastard so much. 

lawrence who i have yet to give a last name:

i feel so bad for him too. he genuinely doesn’t understand that the heroes are corrupt - and if he does, he chooses to turn the other cheek because he doesn’t want to believe it - until a few encounters with cullom make him realize that maybe he doesn’t have a real understanding of how the world is. he’s does, however, believe that he’s completely in the morally right - that he’s always been in the morally right, but his story is really coming to terms with how much of a villain he truly is. and also coming to terms with his feelings for cullom, because he too doesn’t really understand why he still hesitates to kill him. these boys are both idiots, basically, but i love them. lawrence is a super fun character to write about just because he’s kind of awkward and distant from being raised to be professional his entire life. he’s basically always been a young businessman, and the only time he could really be a kid when he was younger was around cullom. it’s a part of the reason why his father never wanted them to be friends and they had to hang out in secret often times because lawrence still do desperately wanted to be his friend. they’re both good boys, even if they’ve done bad things. i don’t know. i love them. 

my unnamed plague romance novel:

summary:

the day the last of roisin’s family died of the bubonic plague, she made a vow to herself - that she’d do everything in her power to learn how to save anyone else fallen ill to this disease she somehow miraculously survived.

and maybe she could. if she weren’t an irish girl living in england, without even a scrap of hope for scraping up an apprenticeship. so she does what she can to ease the suffering of those on the verge of death. giving them water to wet their chapped lips. holding their frail bodies in her arms until their very last breath. singing the children lullabies so they can rest as easy as possible without their parents there to comfort them. until one day, she notices a band of thieves robbing valuables off of corpses. outraged, she goes to confront them, and falls prey to the teasing charms of none other than elliott leighton - son of the best doctor in all of london. but, for all of his medical training, he makes one fatal mistake that he can’t come back from.

revealing to roisin that his father doesn’t know about this side job of his. 

and thus a deal is made - roisin will keep quiet about it in exchange for training beneath elliott, who’s only a few years away from inheriting his father’s business.

but will she prove too weak under the pressure of being unable to save everyone?

the characters:

roisin quinn:

i! love! roisin! so! much! she is such a delight to write and has possibly the best banter ever with elliott because of how unafraid she is to call him out for his bullshit, yet she’s still so inanely motherly and caring. it’s really the best combination ever and i just love how strong she is. i haven’t really gotten to write much of her but she’s adorable on so many levels. plus she has freckles! which are precious! i don’t know man, roisin’s just great. there’s really not much more i can say about her but if you wanna know more, just ask!

elliott leighton:

this bastard. he’s such a bastard. that’s really all i can describe him as, a bastard. an insanely suave, flirty bastard who isn’t afraid to flaunt his talents. he’s really the perfect character to be with roisin just because he can be super selfish and he does genuinely think she’s troublesome at first, but grows to care for her overtime because he sees how much she cares and how she truly does deserve to be in the medical field and vows to help her succeed, however he can. i mean what did you really expect from a character who steals valuables off of corpses? he’s not very openly affectionate - rarely admits at all that he is being affectionate, and gets all flustered when he’s called out for it, which roisin does whenever she gets the chance - but when he is... it’s the softest thing ever. he does think very highly of himself though. probably a bit too highly - he’s a hard teacher on roisin, and always praises his abilities whenever she slips up - but like i said, he’s really not a bad guy. just takes some getting used to i guess.