#qbwips

[queerbrujas]

sharing another little wip w/o context bc I wrote this today and it slaps actually

—

I'd let you ruin me, if only you wanted to.

Do you want to?

Will you ruin yourself and take me down—lift me up—with you?

I want you to want to; that is the core of it. I want you to want what I do so both of us are ruined and broken, which then means we are exalted and whole, because I'm not broken if you are broken with me.

#me: idk I don't really care for pining #also me: writes this and is immediately like 👀 #phone writing bringing me out of the worst writer's block I've had in a while #qbwips #don't think I'm ready to ~be back~ here yet but we'll see

[queerbrujas]

"I'd follow you anywhere."

"Anywhere?... I could ruin us."

"I'd let you ruin me."

#there is Context and stuff I've written around these lines but I'm too sleepy and too shy to share lmao #anyway I'm falling asleep I'm going to bed but I've written a bit and that's more than I've done in weeks #time for me to disappear again sjdldhdk #qbwips #I guess #byeee

[queerbrujas]

wip wednesday

i haven't done this in... a while, and this is less a real wip than it is an ongoing thing about my ocs that has no structure whatsoever, but i have been writing and i wanted to share i guess

—

“You should stay.”

The words just kind of… come out.

They’d been planning on asking for a while now, so it’s not like they’re surprising themself or having any sort of revelation, but they hadn’t thought of doing it now. It’s drawn out of them, though, by how comfortable Anais looks, curled up on their couch scrolling through her phone. By how much they don’t want her to leave.

“What, like tonight? I’m already staying, dummy,” she says, with only the briefest glance up from her phone. And that’s a way out that Rieke would gladly have taken until not that long ago.

“No, like… stay. For good.”

That gets her attention. She sets down her phone and looks at them curiously, leaning forward and resting a hand on their leg. Anais’ undivided attention—always a bit too intense.

#some of his might get shared during ockiss #oc: anais mallowan #oc: rieke #qbwips #god it's been so long since i used that tag

[queerbrujas]

when you have a character who will absolutely not shut up when prompted to talk about their feelings

#it's a holdover from her original setting where her story was told thru letters #it's 10000x easier than writing rieke's response though lmao they're feeling a lot but go 404 when it comes to words #so i struggle bc they cannot say what they mean #qbwips #oc: anais mallowan #eyyy look at me sharing writing

[queerbrujas]

“You’re louder than usual,” Morgan says, and it’s just as casual as the way she’s leaning against the doorframe. Despite the roughness of the statement, there’s no bite to her voice. It’s just… Morgan.

Same Morgan as always.

The same Morgan she’s spent months and months getting to know, that she trains with until she can’t stand upright, that she spends evenings with on the roof of the Warehouse, sitting in silence.

Just Morgan.

(Fucking gorgeous Morgan, Morgan who tastes like woodsmoke and who kisses like she’s a lifeline and whose skin felt soft and warm under Eva’s hands. That Morgan, too.)

“I need to talk to you.”

#the wayhaven chronicles #qbwips #i wanna finish this this weekend #let's see if i manage #there's a lot here that i like

[queerbrujas]

wip wednesday

thank you @dierosenrot for the tag! life has been life lately so i have barely written anything, but here is another snippet from the eva/morgan wip that i am definitely still working on

She could take a seat—on the bed, on the chair by the corner—but she doesn’t. She turns to face Morgan, who has perched herself on the dresser and is still looking at her with that unreadable, curious expression.

Eva purses her lips. Words are never easy, especially not with something like this. But resolve is not something she lacks.

“I’m still thinking about that kiss,” she says, without preamble, each word carefully formed and forced out. Jumping right into the fire.

Morgan doesn’t say anything, not yet, but her posture shifts. She tilts her head to the side (and if running her hand through her hair is one of Morgan’s gestures, this is one of Eva’s), and she leans forward from where she’s perched against the dresser.

“And I want to know if you are too,” Eva presses on, when no response seems to be coming.

“Sweetheart, you’re the only thing I think about these days.” She says it matter-of-factly, as though it shouldn’t be at all surprising. The same way she’s said similar things before. But it sends a jolt of feeling through Eva’s body. “Of course I’m thinking about the damn kiss.”

tagging @tuagonia @dwead-piwate-meggers @impossible-rat-babies @tinyuselessmagics (no pressure!)

#the wayhaven chronicles #i haven't touched this in a while but i was just rereading it and ngl it kinda slaps #will try to work on it this weekend when i can actually think properly #qbwips

[queerbrujas]

vague hints at nsft under the cut

#I'm going a lil feral with this fic #it's very soft though #in a very interesting way #qbwips

[queerbrujas]

snippet sunday

hi i’m actually finally working on something—this is a follow up to and I was set alight, because I have not known peace since I read the M route in the book 3 demo (no spoilers here though)

Just outside the door to Morgan’s bedroom, Eva waits. Bottom lip between her teeth, rocking back on her heels just for something to do while she’s standing here. She runs a hand through her hair, in a gesture that she knows she has picked up from Morgan, and just waits.

She’s not going to knock.

If Morgan wants to talk to her—and that’s a big ‘if’, now; that’s an ‘if’ she hasn’t had to consider in months—then it won’t be long before she opens the door. There’s no way she doesn’t know she’s here.

But what if she doesn’t want to talk?

What if this entire thing was a mistake?

How long is she going to stand here?

Too many questions, too many what-ifs. This level of uncertainty isn’t something Eva has to deal with often. Then again, nothing about this situation is; she’s never felt so off-balance in her whole damn life.

(Nothing, not even the bounty on her head, has ever felt so life-or-death as this.)

You should get some rest, sweetheart, Morgan had said, low and not unkind, thumb brushing over Eva’s lips, and they’d left it like that. Left it like that after a kiss that still has Eva’s mind reeling, a kiss that felt like—like nothing else she has ever felt before. Not even a single point of comparison.

Shit, Morgan, please open the door.

tagging @coldshrugs @dierosenrot @weakzen @evilbunnyking @zarneki @tinyuselessmagics and anyone who feels like sharing~ (and ty @narrativefoiltrope for the tag!)

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc morgan #oc: eva #qbwips

[queerbrujas]

“Nate and I were talking.”

“You do that a lot, yes.”

Eva tries to keep herself from flinching at the dismissive tone. Definitely still annoyed. Definitely more annoyed than Eva would have expected her to be—she can’t remember the last time Morgan acted like this with her.

It’s worrying.

“Well, this was definitely a new topic for us,” she presses on, with a nervous little laugh. God, she’s a mess. Maybe this is a bad idea.

Morgan arches a brow at that and waits for her to continue.

Well, here it goes.

“We… wanted to know if you’d like to join us. In bed.”

Now both of Morgan’s brows shoot up—and she just looks at Eva, for a long time. Examines her. This, at least, isn’t new: it’s something Eva has grown used to, this appraisal, and she meets Morgan’s eyes with a level gaze, in spite of her heart beating like a hammer in her chest.

“You’re not kidding,” Morgan finally says. Not a question. Just a statement.

“I’m not.”

She stares at her for a beat longer, but instead of making a comment about it, Morgan’s expression sets into a deep frown. She looks… uncertain, something both soft and intense flickering in her eyes that Eva isn’t sure she understands.

“Are you sure?” Morgan glances away as she speaks, brow still furrowed. “I don’t want to… get tangled up in anything. Or mess anything up.”

Something starts to unfurl in Eva’s chest, and almost unconsciously she reaches out, places a hand on Morgan’s arm.

“I’m very sure. We both are. We want this, Morgan, if you do.”

#the wayhaven chronicles #qbwips #n x detective x m #not really nsft but there is Talk of sexy things #i'm posting this and running lmao #nate sewell #twc morgan

[queerbrujas]

six sentence snippet sunday

It’s only a few days after that, when she’s leaning back against Nate’s chest with her eyes closed, his arms wrapped loosely around her as he presses sweet, barely-there kisses to the birthmarks on her shoulders.

The water of the bathtub has grown cooler around them, and the steam dissipated long ago, but they have not moved in a while. Have no intention to.

“I wish we could stay like this,” Eva murmurs.

Just this, right here.

A single moment, endless.

“We can,” Nate whispers in return. His breath feels warm on her skin, and he follows it with another kiss. “As long as you want to.”

The temptation to never talk about it again hasn’t gone away.

Neither have the nightmares, nor the way she flinches when she sees the scar. The way she looks at herself in the mirror and finds flaws she hadn’t noticed before, the way she sometimes wants nothing more than to open her skin and drain out the blood to get it all out.

“Not that long.”

if you see this, you’re tagged~

#the wayhaven chronicles #been working a lot on this one today #might have something to post soon #qbwips #don't be fooled by the softness this wip is angst

[queerbrujas]

some spicy Nate/Eva under the cut that I will never do anything with so I’m throwing it into the void as it is

18+, minors dni

note: i did in fact finish this and and have posted it as surrender my soul

—

“Nate, please,” Eva whines, and she doesn't care how desperate she sounds, how needy.

“Please what, my love?” he asks, all innocence in his tone, the illusion of it completely shattered by the smile he gives her from his place between her legs (the place he has claimed and made his as he has made her his, as she has made him hers). Her fingers tighten in his hair.

“Please let me come,” she answers immediately, giving in to his teasing, telling him what he wants to hear without hesitation—she is too wound up to do anything else and she needs to feel him again, feel his mouth on her again. “I want to come for you.”

An exhale of hot breath against her thigh and his grip on her legs tightens, but that is the only indication he gives that he is affected by her words. The smile is still in place as he dips his head to press a kiss on her inner thigh, close to where she wants him but not close enough.

“I know,” he says against her skin. “You will, I promise.”

She throws her head back in frustration, a sharp breath leaving her—he will be the death of her one day, smug tease that he is. (He never fails to fulfill his promises, and has never once left her hanging, but god how he enjoys torturing her.)

“Eva. Jaan, look at me.”

The gentle strength in his voice means she complies without question, a shiver running through her body and a strangled sound in her throat.

She meets his eyes, pure brown darkened to near black and she wishes, not for the first time, that she could feel him the way he feels her. Hear his accelerated heartbeat, feel the heat of his flushed skin. Know, know what she does to him, sense it, drown in it.

His gaze still locked with hers, he finally runs his tongue along her center, slow this time, torturous—a low, shuddering moan leaves her lips and she is lost to him again, to the heat of his mouth, and it doesn't take long before she is gasping again, all thoughts wiped from her mind save for Nate, Nate, always Nate.

#the wayhaven chronicles #nate sewell #qbwips #oc: eva #nsft

[queerbrujas]

wip whenever

I am not actively working on this at the moment, but this is still one of my favorite things I've written, so have a fragment of a letter from Alice to Nat in my "Nat falls in love in the 1940s" wip with kindly mortal flames

—

Dear Natalie,

I'm not sure how to write this. I am sorry for not doing so before.

I apologize for the handwriting—my hands are shaking. I don't know where to start or what to think, my head is still so full of thoughts of you I cannot process them all. You have been the only thing on my mind for months.

I know so little about you. You say such lovely words—do such lovely things—but thereʼs something in you I canʼt seem to reach. I’m not sure if itʼs something that happened to you, if itʼs something you have done, or if it’s something that is simply beyond me to even imagine. I have no choice now but to believe Agnes was right—there is something in the kind of life you lead that I will never understand.

I have never met anybody like you; I am certain I shall never meet anybody like you. You are branded in my heart as you are in my mind; in my body the sweet electric memory of you, of us—but you are slipping through my fingers, and it doesn't matter what I do or how I try, I can’t stop it and it is driving me quite insane.

Simply said, because I will be forthright with you, even if (or perhaps because) you will not: I have never been a strong woman, not like you are, not like Agnes or your Ava. You are all so very exceptional (you, most of all), whereas I—I spill my feelings out in tears and cries and I wear my heart on my sleeve, have since I was a girl. I am easily overwhelmed, easily hurt, easy to read; I am incapable of hiding how I feel, or putting on a brave face for the sake of others. And so I love you, I love you, you must know that I love you, but loving you in this way hurts and I lack the strength to endure that pain.

#nat sewell #the wayhaven chronicles #oc: alice mallowan #qbwips #flames*

[queerbrujas]

“Do you honestly think there would be anything left of me without you?”

She’d been scared half to death, tasted the bitterness of it in her throat when she saw him take the hit that had been meant for her—a hit that would have killed her, surely, and it had almost done him in. Had left him unconscious, bleeding, bones broken and not healing; it had taken days for him to recover.

She had never been so angry at him.

Anger born out of fear, out of terror. After the trappers, after Sanja, her nightmares always involved losing him somehow. And it had been so close, so very fucking close—

The way he looked at her then, as though the thought had never occurred to him in the first place—as though he couldn’t imagine that she loved, needed him as much as he needed her. It made her laugh for its absurdity: it came out as a sob, a disbelieving sound that made him flinch.

“Don’t ever do that again. I wouldn’t want to live in a world that doesn’t have you in it.”

open tag for anyone who wants to share~

(thank you @elmshore for the tag!)

#the wayhaven chronicles #qbwips #oc: eva #nate sewell #on the overprotective N train as i think a lot of us are #(this is actually a flashback—not the main point of the story) #it's just there to make a Point

[queerbrujas]

wip wednesday

thank you @magebastard for the tag! aside from my morgan brain worms, i’m finally finally making some progress on ch. 3 of then it vanished away from my hands, so here, have a first draft:

“Are you okay?”

It takes her a monumental effort to speak. Her throat feels raw, her thoughts scrambled, paper-thin.

Eventually, she shakes her head. “I don't want to talk about it.”

Farah nods, though she still eyes her with concern. She reaches out and lets her hand hover over Eva's knee—she doesn't touch her, but it's close enough that Eva feels the warmth of her through her clothes.

“Do you want me to just sit here with you for a while? We don't have to go back home yet.” 

Eva barely manages to choke back a dry sob at the mention of home, but she's grateful, grateful to Farah for putting into words what she wouldn't have been able to.

“Please,” she croaks, giving a nod.

i’ve already tagged people today so i’m not gonna annoy anyone else lmao, but please tag me if you have anything to share!

#the wayhaven chronicles #oc: eva #farah hauville #qbwips

[queerbrujas]

i know you were asking for N asks, and ngl still thinking of N believing in soul mates but not believing that it could happen to THEM and then it DOES, my heart man

You know what — you didn’t ask for this at all but you sent me down N angst thoughts and since today has pretty much become N day, I’m gonna share an as of yet incomplete letter from N to the detective that is part of a bigger thing and very much on this theme:

—

My dearest heart,

I hope you will forgive the moment of melancholy that has pushed me, once again, to put pen to paper and write these words for you. This letter might be more tinged with sadness than you deserve, you who have brought me happiness beyond my imagination. I only ever want to do the same for you—I only ever want to be cause for happiness in you.

(The way you look at me makes me hopeful that until now I have, at least in part, succeeded. The way you smile at me when we wake up together, how peaceful you look, how content—I could look at you forever, dearheart, and find new things to love, but that look is without a doubt my favorite.)

I hope you know, my dearest, that I am yours. Yours, all of me, so fully and without question that it surprises even myself—I confess I had, in darker moments, almost thought it impossible, a hopeless dream to share myself with someone as I have with you.

I had thought myself numb and broken beyond repair, hopeless, hopeless. I spent the better part of three centuries desperately grasping at things I once was and which immortality had eroded, dulled piece by piece until memories and ghosts were all that was left to me. How I envied. How I craved. 

And yet I have, and my heart is yours; my soul, my body, my whole being yours.

I have sought love before. I have even found it, at times: bright candles to shed some light on the path through immortal night. But that path has now led me to you, my darling, you who are the stars and the sun, light and warmth and beauty unlike any I could have dreamed of before.

(There are parts of me—parts of me I would hide away in shadow and never think of again. But you fill me with light, to the darkest, oldest corners.)

#nate sewell #nat sewell #the wayhaven chronicles #qbwrites #qbwips #you didn't ask for this but here i am sharing anyway #asks #love letters #qbwritestwc

[queerbrujas]

(late) wip wednesday

i was tagged by a number of wonderful people yesterday—thank you @ejunkiet @nickwisemn @zarnekis and @dumortaina !

so last night what was intended to be a quick warmup to settle back into writing took over completely, and i ended up making tons of progress on a fic for @trmaw that won’t see the light of day for another six months lmao. also my first attempt at writing second person, which i’m unexpectedly enjoying?

Until—

“Would you like to dance?”

This catches you off-guard. This you were not expecting, not with the way she had been assessing you. Watching you. With her implication that you might be an intruder (and you are, but she can’t know this, she doesn’t know this for sure).

Heat blooms on your cheeks, and you are grateful that your face is half-hidden.

The woman in red is beautiful, charming, and her smile as dazzling and as radiant as the sun that graces her mask. And you have promised the dance to her: you try to remind yourself of this fact. It wouldn’t do to renege on your word so easily, so quickly, and for what? What is it about this stranger that makes you want to discard that initial invitation, when you know just as much (even less) about her?

It is entirely useless. Your feet seem rooted to the ground, your mouth seems unable to form a response other than acceptance of her offer.

i’m super late to this so i won’t tag people, but if anyone still wants to share something please feel free to say i tagged you!

#for those familiar with trm this is a rewrite/expansion of the scene in chapter 1 #qbwips #the royal masquerade #playchoices