side-blog for posting information about my OCs - main account @waitafrikk - reblogs with names in the tags are my ocs -he/him- - https://toyhou.se/chrromie/characters -
i am not a minor
A green clawed hand appeared, curling around the door, followed by a burst of blonde hair and fury. Sunday stood, breathing hard and arms outstretched. Fear slid into Nate’s stomach. She was like a starved wild cat, sensing meat for the first time in months.
Sunday stalked forwards, leering up at him. “Killing you myself would be a waste of my time. You’re not worth the energy.” Her voice was dogged, slowed down by her deep panting.
Nate stepped back, ignoring the slick, oily fright building in him. The sharp, clawing pain of skin tearing came back to him.
“Okay.” A small twigging of satisfaction rose as her face twisted further into fury.
“Okay. That’s all you have to say? For ruining everything?”
Nate looked around, nonplussed. “I was doing fine until you got here.”
“Nothing is fine any more. Because being a little baby about ‘doing the right thing’ doesn’t help in this world. Enjoy the morals while they last. If you’re smart, they won’t last long.”
“Right, well, who was the one who said it was fine to feed here?” He hovered out of her reach, unsure what her next move was.
Sunday curled her lip. “Don’t even try putting this on me.” She lunged forwards.
He wouldn’t let her win this one. A flash of green obscured his vision as her talons descended. Nate threw up his hands, his own less impressive set of claws digging into her face. He needed her gone. This was all just a distraction from fixing his life.
Flesh met flesh. All his fury and frustration thrust into pushing Sunday away. Her nails pricked against his skin, pinching, drawing blood. More pressure, a pained cry – his, or hers? A familiar, throbbing agony rocked up Nate’s spine, settling in his head. It swelled around his body, pulling up a wave of nausea. He cried out.
Club music thrummed in his ears. Layers upon layers of music across a hundred years settled over each other in a thick, musty carpet. He danced and sung, world coated in a rosy tinge. A tide of memories twirled around him. His own face surged at him, snarling like a rabid dog. The dance floor spread out under his feet, flashes of silver spinning around him. With these memories came fear, frustration and a sense of finality.
Happy Storyteller Saturday! Congratulations on 50k words!!!! What movies do you think each of the Blood Worth Bottling characters would like to watch?
yippeeeeeee
Nates favourite movie is hot fuzz!! (<- definitely not because the writer also loves this film) he has a poster in his room, and when Luke asks his name in. chapter 22? he says his name is Danny :)
I think Basil would love those biographicals of musicians (the elton john one, the freddie mercury one etc). I havent managed to go much in depth for his love for music in draft 1 but i hope to in the 2nd draft. since its one of the things he actually has in common with nate.
Pipistrelle loves gothic horror stuff. dracula, nosferatu, she would eat uupp the new frakenstein film.
sunday likes james bond, but is also fond of super niche artsy indie films
jack likes nature documentaries but he isnt really a technology guy either way.
belle and erin watch shitty netflix romcoms together to make fun of them. Belle loves Coraline, Erin loves star trek
Unfortunately it is entirely in character for marshall to enjoy american psycho. sigh. also wolf of wall street.
i genuinely think theres only like 5-7 more chapters of BWB left i have to write. this number may end up being 10 because i dont know what is goingto come up. wahugh.
snowghoul
tangentwithtanner
dededos
2087
theartofmadeline
baratheonpilled
turnnoffyourmind