#wip line/excerpt

[bbcphile]

WIP Wednesday

It's somehow Wednesday again! Enjoy DFS and FDB trying to comfort LLH during a nightmare.

(You can find more excerpts here.)

A-Fei cut himself off, head whipping around to look at Li Lianhua. “Xiangyi?” All trace of the storm had vanished, leaving only worry in its wake.

Fang Duobing sat bolt upright. “What’s wrong?” 

Li Lianhua’s hand twitched.

Huli Jing whined and shifted to drape herself across Li Lianhua’s knees.

“Where’s the incense?” a-Fei snapped, glancing frantically around the room.

“What?”

“Incense,” a-Fei bit out. “From the parcel. Find it. Now.”

Fang Duobing bit back his demand for details. “On it,” he said instead, yanking the parcel from his robe and tugging at the strings. Damn it, why had he tied them so tightly?

“Xiangyi, it’s alright,” a-Fei said, his gruff voice gentled. He tapped Li Lianhua’s pulse point repeatedly. “You’re in Lotus Tower. You’re safe. It’s time to wake up.”

A nightmare? He should have known. Of course a-Fei would have something for treating them, and of course he wouldn’t have wanted to talk about–

“–No,” Li Lianhua mumbled, “no, don’t–”

“You’re safe, Xiangyi,” a-Fei said more urgently, squeezing his wrist and giving it a shake. You’re free. Now stop fighting and open your eyes!”

Oh, shit, if he was dreaming of whatever happened earlier, and he tried to destroy his heart meridian again–

“–I can’t wake him up,” a-Fei hissed. “Hurry.”

“Understood.” Fuck it. Fang Duobing snapped the string in half and tore the packaging open. Dried herbs spilled on the ground like tears. 

“Don’t do this,” Li Lianhua begged, his voice breaking.

“It’s not real,” a-Fei said, gripping his shoulder, “whatever you’re seeing, you already survived it. It can’t hurt you. Follow my voice and open your eyes.”

Duobing’s fingertips finally bumped something long and thin. “Found it,” he said, jumping to his feet. Fuck, where was the incense burner? He’d stowed it when he’d driven the Lotus Tower here, which meant it was–“The kitchen. Hang on, Xiaohua’er,” he said, sprinting to the front of the Lotus Tower.

Fuck fuck fuck. He yanked cabinet drawers open, feeling around the pots and pans, until–

“–I got it,” he called out, rushing back into the room, shoving the incense stick into the burner as he went. 

A-Fei had shifted to his knees, his dao abandoned on the bed, and had one hand splayed over Xiaohua’s chest, preemptively radiating qi, and the other wrapped around his wrist, fingertips to pulse, hovering close to his lips. “Light it,” he snapped, not taking his eyes from Xiaohua. “Xiangyi,” he murmured, “Lianhua. Xiaohua. I’m here. Xiaobao’s here. No one else. We won’t let anyone hurt you again. It’s a dream, alright? Just a dream. Open your eyes.” 

Fang Duobing shoved some clutter off the nightstand, slammed the burner in the newly cleared space, and fumbled in his robe for his flame stick.

Xiaohua thrashed wildly. “Stop! Please stop!”

Fang Duobing lit the incense, capped the flame stick, tossed it somewhere, and rushed to the bed. “It’s ready!” he said, holding it out to a-Fei.

“Bring it here,” a-Fei said, twisting to the side to make space while still keeping a hand on Xiaohua’s heart. 

Fang Duobing sat on the edge of the bed, against Xiaohua’s hip, hovering the incense burner over Xiaohua’s chest, and tried to waft the fumes closer with his free hand. “Like this?”

 “Let me go,” Xiaohua sobbed, “Please, Shiniang, let me go!!”

Wait, then the healer was his shiniang? Shit, of course, why hadn’t he thought of that before? That would explain everything–

–Why did a-Fei look like he’d just been stabbed? 

“A-Fei?” he whispered.

A-Fei blinked, and the raw devastation on his face turned into cold, consuming rage. “She’s not here. We won’t let her hurt you again.”

Oh. Oh no.

“It’s ok, Xiaohua’er,” Fang Duobing said. “We won’t let anything happen to her.”

A-Fei shot him a look of such abject hatred Fang Duobing was vaguely surprised he didn’t gut him with his dao on the spot.

“Trust me,” Fang Duobing mouthed at him. “We won’t let her sacrifice herself for you. We promise.” He grabbed Xiaohua’s free hand and squeezed it. “You saved her, ok? You’re both safe. No one has to die. You’ve done enough. You can rest now, alright? Just breathe. That’s it. Nice, deep breaths.” 

He stroked Xiaohua’s hand, keeping up a steady stream of encouraging murmurs, until the faint tremors coursing through his arms had stopped, until his breath evened out, until his face had once again gone slack with restful sleep.

Fang Duobing gave Xiaohua’s hand another squeeze, placed it carefully back on top of the blanket, and forced himself to release it. “Sleep well, Xiaohua’er,” he whispered, tucking a flyaway wisp of hair behind Xiaohua’s ear.

A-Fei hadn’t made a sound since Fang Duobing had started speaking, other than the rustle of fabric when he changed position, removed his hand from Li Lianhua’s chest, and slipped back into his earlier post in the corner. 

Maybe his headache was acting up again?

A-Fei looked mostly normal: the dao was back on his lap, his legs were crossed, and he seemed to be meditating again. The only difference from earlier was that now he was holding Li Lianhua’s wrist in both hands, and his head was ever so slightly bowed over it.

He thought back on how gutted and horrified a-Fei had looked when Li Lianhua had shouted his Shiniang’s name. How furious he’d been when Duobing had promised to keep her safe.

There was no way he was as fine as he was pretending to be.

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Last Line Tag

Since I've been so focused on world building, these have built up!

Thanks to @frostedlemonwriter here, @aziz-reads here and here, @pb-dot here, @buffythevampirelover here, @dyrewrites here, and @cowboybrunch here.

I made this edit when posting the scene early for today's @sipofsnips when I realized Google Lens doesn't work that effectively in my experience

From The Secret Portal Part One (Ash POV)

I wondered if I could find their species, so I stood, pulling my phone out of my pocket to take a picture to run through the plant identifyer app my science teacher made us download, but it didn’t even turn on.

My professor has an app like that

Tagging @blind-the-winds @little-peril-stories @eccaiia @mk-writes-stuff @ahordeofwasps @sleepywriter00 @i-can-even-burn-salad @mysticstarlightduck or else who wants to hop on

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @fairy-tales-of-yesterday

[somethingclevermahogony]

Last Line Tag Game

I was tagged by @faeriecinna, thank you! I am tagging @skyderman, @verba-writing, @patternwelded-quill and @unrepentantcheeseaddict No pressure though! Bit more than just a line, but it feels like I haven't really had the chance to post about Narul being an awkward bi mess.(I wonder who this little episode could be based on?)

Narul looked uncertainly at his wrist. Before he could say another word, the smaller man had taken Narul’s hand in both of his own. Narul’s cheeks flushed, he opened and closed his mouth a number of times, but could produce no words. The man slipped the string of fake amber beads onto Narul’s wrist, with a delicate and practiced ease. It was a bit loose, but it did stay in place. “Perfect!” He exclaimed with a grin. “Erm, yeah.” Narul looked at the once necklace and now bracelet. Bop giggled, tickled by the turmoil which ran rampant in Narul’s head. “Quiet you.” Narul snapped internally. The spirit disregarded that particular order. Narul looked back down at the hawker who waited expectantly, hand outstretched. “Oh, oh right, you weren’t just uh, giving it to me.” Narul chuckled and averted his gaze. He reached into the leather pouch that Ninma had given him, and after fishing around in it for some time he produced three bronze coins emblazoned with the face of some dead Kishic king. He dropped these into the hawker’s palm. The man inspected them quizzically, his smile faltered somewhat and his eyes narrowed. He considered asking for more but then glanced back at the arm he had just been holding, nearly as thick as his own torso. He nodded his head and turned, already looking for the next sailor to target. “What's your name?” Narul called after him, but it seemed that the hawker was already far too invested on his next target to pay him any heed. The captain smirked. “Three bronze coins for some painted pebbles and string, at least he was pretty, eh?” Narul looked away, if only to hide his rosy cheeks.

[words-after-midnight]

Excerpt from "A Rush of Blood to the Head," the first chapter of LIFE IN BLACK AND WHITE, Act I.

🌙

WIP intro Querying soon ❤️

[indecentpause]

@jezifster tagged me to share my last line!

cw: suggestive (but I cut around the nsfw bits)

Jordan’s fingers curled tightly into Darcey’s skin. Even though his body was heavy and thick and warm with afterglow, Jordan could still feel the familiar tingle low in his stomach, the tightness in his lower back. Darcey wanted him. Wanted him that badly.

these two just won't stop i'm sorry (i'm not sorry)

soon I'm gonna have a small collection haha

tagging uhhh @oh-no-another-idea @magic-is-something-we-create @winterandwords and YOU to share your last lines!!

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

9 Lines, 9 People Tag Game

Thank you @k-v-briarwood for tagging me. These are some lines from yet another magical boy transformation sequence, because I can't get enough of writing them and I think I finally figured out how I wanna go about them.

Whatever invisible entity forced him to 'transform' last time nudges at his chin gently, almost as if apologising for its previous misconduct. Beau scoffs, "It doesn't matter how gentle you are, you're going to do it anyway, right?" Intense heat envelops him, like an internal furnace has been set ablaze inside his body. The flames burn through him, faster than last time, but the embers smoulder for longer. He trembles under the feather-light, hot touch. They're like swift brush-strokes —made by a steady, yet tender hand— there where his veins carry blood to different parts of his body. It's over before the fire could truly settle under Beau's skin, but the pace has left him panting for breath. His heart hammering in his chest. "You did not want to go slow," A deep voice explains in his ears, stern but not callous, "so you got your wish."

Tagging: @sarandipitywrites, @lordfenric-writes, @artbyeloquent, @wildswrites, @authoralexharvey, @memento-morri-writes, @teriwrites, @cwritesfiction, @maxinegillespie and open tag for anyone who wants to share their stuff~

[landwriter]

last line tag game

x-treme belated response edition!!! tagged by @dsudis, @softest-punk, @xx-vergil-xx, @delta-pavonis, @acrisisofbeholding, @hardly-an-escape, aaaand @virgo-dream. thank you!

one recent(ish) line(s) from The WIPs for each of you, hand-picked on vibes, because I feel bad for taking so long, and also because i have never followed the rules of this tag game and it would be weird to start now

dira: He twitches when he sleeps, according to Hob. Like children and dogs, too new to it for his brain to properly inhibit his motions.

cecil: “You would suggest this is a part of the human experience,” he says. “To persistently fail. To be betrayed by one’s body.”

verg: There, beneath the wired fur and silver-scarred flesh, there, beneath the blunt bones of his hand, he feels Hob’s old human heart beating. He once wondered at it, the constant muscular twitch, the high temple of blood, receiving and returning its constant iron-wet pilgrims, and thought, How could anyone stand a lifetime of that?

dp: His body is not his body. It is a blade whistling through the air, a bird tucking its wings and diving, diving, diving into the sea.

He forgets he is a man. He forgets he cannot shape his stubborn form into something that would better please him. He is a dream of prowling. Hunting thing. Hungry thing. Sating thing.

crisis: “I didn’t want to make it harder to part, at the end, by saying it. I was trying to not want for what I could not have.” Hob scrubbed a hand across his eyes. “I love him so much.” His voice trembled a little. “I did say it in every other way I could. But not that one.”

nora: And Dream smiles, soft, and moves for him, hooking an arm behind Hob’s neck and bringing him close, pressing their bodies together, and Hob feels Dream’s naked chest rising and falling against his own as they kiss, and thinks, I love you, I love you, I love you, and he’s sure Dream can taste it in his mouth.

virg: “No shit,” says Hob, grinning. “Let me spot you one, then.” Dream takes a cigarette from him. Hob flicks the lighter open between them and Dream leans in, glancing up at Hob through dark lashes.

Hob smiles brightly down at him while thinking, Oh, fuck.

[digital-chance]

9 Lines 9 Tags

thank you to everyone who tagged me! some of these tags are from almost two months ago sheesh. i finally wrote something though. sorry for taking ages.

in no particular order...

@janec23's post here

@kae-luna's post here

@mthollowell-writes's post here

@desastreus's post here

@ashwithapen's post here

@late-to-the-fandom's post here

@your-absent-father's post here

@clairelsonao3's post here

---

A bit more than 9 lines, but something i wrote recently that i don't hate.

a rough draft from my wip: you would still be mine

The Asset stares at the shelf. “Hey, can I grab something from in front of you?” The Asset startles (startles? examine later) and steps back. The civilian - a teenage boy - glances at the Asset and grabs an item off the shelf. “Love the emo look man. You probably get so many phone numbers,” the kid says in an approving voice. The Asset does not respond and stares at the civilian. It is wearing dark clothing and has its hair loose in front of the face (obscuring vision, needs to be trimmed). “Committing to the emo bit too! You’re awesome man! See you around!” The teen says, grinning. They walk off and the Asset is left alone in the grocery store aisle.

---

gently tagging: @daughter-of-inklings, @gwenthekween, @mjparkerwriting, @vollzz, @avocado-frog, @writeblr-of-my-own,, @pumpkinsplots, @olivescales3, @pb-dot

[lexiklecksi]

Last line (tag game)

Thanks for tagging me @hippiewrites to post the last line I wrote. I'm tagging @the-down-upside-finch. Bad English translation beneath (my word plays don't translate).

Die sternenklare Nacht trügt, denn in mir bahnt sich eine Sturmflut an. Wenn ich könnte, würde ich das Meer für sie teilen. Am liebsten würde ich sie schütteln und anschreien: Bitte gib mir ein Zeichen, dass du mich liebst, weil ich mich verliere. Es hilft nichts. Ich ertrinke in ihr.

The starry night is deceptive, because a storm surge is brewing inside me. If I could, I would part the sea for her. I would love to shake her and scream at her: Please give me a sign that you love me because I'm losing myself. It doesn't help. I'm drowning in her.

[sulky-valkyrie]

Last Line Challenge

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like). 

tagged by @hollyand-writes and @dismalzelenka 💖💖💖

“You’ve had the monster, would you like to have the man?”

Tagging @glowing-blue-feathermage @oxygenforthewicked @viiisenyas @kerfanna and @sunnygalaxyfox

[angelsdean]

i'm so very predictable ajsfksdfdk i was just rereading a passage from a WIP and doing some light editing and i got to this part where dean is talking abt cas's eyes and i was like. he should be swiping his thumb under one of cas's eyes. that's what's happening here, that's what i see, how did i forget to write that? ok lemme just add a quick line here (highlighted in yellow). then i read on to the next sentence and yup i'd already written it, of course i had (highlighted in blue).

writers be like, "is anyone gonna add that line that should definitely be here?" only to find out they already did ajskdfk

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Out of context line

Thanks to @gracehosborn here and @badluck990 here!

From School of the Legends Year One

“Really? From France?” “Where else? He’s French.”

I can't wait to get back to SOTL

Tagging @talesofsorrowandofruin @illarian-rambling @theprissythumbelina @thepeculiarbird @eccaiia @dyrewrites @leahnardo-da-veggie @winterandwords + anyone else!

[somethingclevermahogony]

Last Line Rewrite Game

Thank you for the tag @mk-writes-stuff !

Rules: rewrite the previous line, then post your last line for others to rewrite

MK's Line:

For once, she wasn’t even thinking about them. She had a plan. She was going to make this work, and everything was going to go perfectly. She was going to get her magic back with Cassiopeia’s help, her parents would name her the heir, and everything would be absolutely fine.

The tense feeling in her chest would just have to be quiet.

My Rewrite:

For just that moment, they weren't filling her mind. She had a plan, one which she was confident would unfold just as she had envisioned it. With Cassiopeia's help she retrieved her magic, she would receive her rightful place as heir, and everything would be perfect.

The pressure in her chest, that would just have to wait.

My Last Line(s)

Akard smiled to himself as he watched the seer descend into the earth, “Not at all, I don’t think I’ll be going back to Apuna, for quite some time.” Bazus chuckled, “That’s good, you’ll get to enjoy all the hospitality of my father’s city, come let's go talk to your seer!” 

As Hutbari’s eldest strolled confidently onward Akard muttered under his breath. “I assure you I will be enjoying far more than just father’s hospitality.”

Tagging @illarian-rambling , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @elsie-writes , @scribble-dee-vee , and whoever!

[ksbbb]

Last Line Tag

Tagged by @babygiriraeken

“Everyone leaves eventually.” Theo comments, a sad smile crossing his face, as Liam heart breaks at the sad and lonely words leaving the chimera’s lips.

Tagging @waterloou @chasing-chimeras @thiamsxbitch @luckyvd @phantomraeken @rhyslahey @mmoosen

[indecentpause]

Last Line Tag

tagged by by @lunarmoment to share my last line!! this is from These Quiet, Terrible Things

Bunny’s skin flashes arsenic white underneath the full moon. The bright, bluish reflection in his glasses nearly blinds you when you catch it from the wrong angle. His booted feet are sure on the gravelly path, not like you, city slicker you are, fumbling for footholds in the dark. The violet streaks in his hair, the violet polish adorning his nails, they flash in the starlight like opal.

tagging @winterandwords @kaiusvnoir @drippingmoon @oh-no-another-idea @authoralexharvey and YOU

if you want to share a last line or two, please do, and tag me!

[inafieldofdaisies]

Last Line Paragraph Tag | Tagged by @simplegenius042 ❤️

The first thing to greet her were small feet scurrying off across the wooden floors that made her release a sigh before she called out, "Zorro." Initially the name had no effect until seconds later when a head poked out from behind the bar and "Calahan's son" rushed at her, wrapping his paws around her leg in what his owner deemed as "greeting". "Morning to you, too, boy.", Mary May muttered as she stared down at the raccoon, then pointed towards the stairs, "Up to your father you go now. I have to open the bar. Can't have you chasing off paying customers." The raccoon made no move, dark gaze trained on her face, forcing her to repeat more sternly, "Up, Zorro." At the command Zorro finally sprung into action, waddling over to the stairs and sneaking a look her way to see if she was following as he began to climb up. He got half of the way and stopped, making Mary May shake her head, "What? Want me to come too? Fine. Guess I do need to open the door for you. Maybe he should teach you how to do that." The second her boots hit the first step, the raccoon resumed his ascend. "Bit off a Peggie's finger, did ya now?", Zorro's ears perked up as if he understood her words, "Good job.", then she frowned, "And I'm talking to a raccoon now. Your daddy is rubbing off on me, Zorro." She pushed open the door that separated the downstairs area and her living quaters and followed him inside at the exact moment Calahan chose to exit her bedroom in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist as he dried off his hair with another. "Jesus, Rookie.", the words left her before she could stop them, winning a laugh out of him. "Thought you headed down. Sorry.", Hartley explained sheepishly, while his smug smile was anything but apologetic and only widening at the fact she was most definitely gawking and yet to get anything else out, "Enjoying the view, gorgeous?" Pull yourself together. Mary May narrowed her eyes, taking a final look at him before she twirled around and said, "Make sure your son behaves." The door cut off his throaty laughter while she took the stairs two at a time and tried her hardest to stop her mind from wandering into a dangerous territory, of wondering what the small tattoo above his hip spelled. Sure as hell ain't asking him. He won't let me live that one down.

Tagging @clicheantagonist @direwombat @poisonedtruth @nightbloodbix @josephseedismyfather @g0dspeeed @aceghosts @euryalex @adelaidedrubman @thesingularityseries @vampireninjabunnies-blog @theelderhazelnut @clonesupport @voidika @josephslittledeputy @schoute @v0idbuggy @socially-awkward-skeleton @trench-rot @strangefable @sstewyhosseini @strafethesesinners @florbelles @madparadoxum @cassietrn @detectivelokis and anyone else that would like to do the tag ❤️