Omg I love this WIP game you just tagged me in lol, it looks like so much fun! So I'm going to ask you about two of yours, you can pick one to post a snippet from or talk about or do both! Your choice. I'm going with Octoquest (this sounds silly and fascinating, I love it) and Fated Mates (I'm a sucker for soul mates!).
Thank you so much for the ask!
I’m going to talk a little bit about Octo in another post, here’s a little excerpt from Chapter 2 of Dark Equations, which Fated Mates is the working title of.
I keep changing what happens in this fic and as a result, it keeps getting back burnered 😭😭😭
The next time Jemma saw Nix, she was going to punch her in the nose. Hard. Nix had to have known what she was saying, and then had just let everyone misinterpret it, until Jemma herself had believed she was Jemma the Mateless.
The evidence that she was not mateless stood in front of her in the form of one somewhat befuddled newly blooded vampire. He was adorably staring down at the tented out front of his trousers, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend that he had an erection. Though she supposed if she hadn’t been turned on for centuries, she might be at a loss too.
Actually, she was at a loss. Leeches were the enemy, even if it wasn’t exactly these ones, their faction and the Valkyries were not aligned. In fact, the expectation would be that she twist his head off and traipse off without a backward glance.
And he had curls. Blue eyes like a summer sky, a very symmetrical face, the most adorable nose, and the kind of scruff she wanted rubbing her thighs.
To top it off, the idea of hurting him made an empty void yawn open in her chest. The simple indisputable fact was that she now had a vampire for a mate, and she’d scratch the eyes out of anyone that wanted to hurt him. Boil their blood, shred their liver—
“Jemma?” Fitz asked. “You look a little…fierce.”
“Anyone that tries to hurt you is dead,” she growled, hands curling into fists.
Fitz’s brows went up. “Uh, cool, cool. I don’t think you have to worry, much.” His gaze ran over her, from the top of her head to her shoes. It was followed by an entire wealth of emotions flicking over his features, one after another, until settling on an expression close to despair. “You…you…” he choked out. “Bloody hell, you’re gorgeous, perfect, you must have everyone in the blasted world lining up to worship at your feet, and I’m just…me.”
