Writing is Hell

Plans for the fanfic:

It will be released on this blog in a serial format (chapter by chapter and I apologize in advance for chapter 14) with the first installment going live on the last Monday of July. (Barring any unforeseen catastrophes.)

Subsequent chapters will be posted each Monday with the last installment releasing on the final Monday of 2024.

This is already a nearly completed story (for those who worry about starting an unfinished tale for fear of getting reader blueballs) and it should be completely written before I post that first chapter.

Its wordcount where it stands currently:

I anticipate adding a few thousand to that in wrapping up the last couple chapters.

Writing is not only hell, but it is also supposed to be more about the journey than the destination.

And my journey in the last 41 days has been a crazy one. I have written more than I have in this amount of time than (almost) ever before. (The exception was NaNoWriMo once and what I wrote for that was absolute garbage, so I hardly consider that a successful endeavor, unlike this.)

Here are some of the things I have shared in the last month with those I'm dragging along with me on this journey:

Me: I don’t need to research stuff for this stupid little fic

Also me: /proceeds to research a bunch of totally random-ass stuff, including looking at definitions of words I’ve probably known for 4 decades but DO I REALLY KNOW THAT THAT’S HOW THAT WORD IS USED?/

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Me: Alastor is canonically asexual. I'm gonna honor that

Also me: /finds a really weird way to "honor that"/

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Me as I’m adding deliciate to my document: I don’t CARE if it's obsolete. It’s perfect and I’m using it. And you will learn it. Get some goddamn CULTURE, Vellum!

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Me: Al, if you could just NOT be creepy for two seconds—

Alastor: /creepy asf/

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Nobody:

Me: I’m gonna find ways to make Val even more despicable.

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Intrusive Voice: 😐

Me: NO. 

Intrusive Voice: 😏

Me: NO!!

Intrusive Voice: 😈

Me: NOOOO!!!!!

Intrusive Voice: The thought about Alastor's dirty talk has already occurred. You might as well put it to good use.

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This Fandom is gonna hate me so much

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Me: I'm gonna write fluff 

Me later that same day: 1d4 emotional damage

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(For your context, this started when I came across a post about a venomous snake and its handler on a herpetology group)--

I saw that and remarked aloud, "Oh just me with my highly venomous snake hanging out."

Scott,  having no idea of the context: Alastor, put your pants back on.

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Me earlier: these two are a disaster

Me now: he’s a sadist and she’s a masochist. Actually ..........

And on that note, per poll results requesting what flavor sneak peek I should share from my fic that I posted in my favorite subreddit, here is an excerpt from the chapter tentatively titled, "Gratuitous Sex Scene."

Please excuse any typos; this is still a work in progress I wrote literally just last night and have not had the opportunity to edit-to-death.

18+ Only beyond this point. I'm serious. If you're under 18, SCRAM. Also, if you are triggered by BDSM type things, you probably ought not expand this. Everyone else? Enjoy!

He chuckled that deep, delicious, scheming chuckle. “What kind of monster would I be if I’d given you any kind of helpful warning before we made our little deal?”

“A stupid one,” Grace whispered, clenching her eyes shut. Like stupid little me.

“That’s right,” he purred, winding a strip of fabric around her wrists. “And I’m not stupid.”

Grace’s heart pounded as she opened her eyes again and focused on the fabric binding her wrists together. She recognized it; that was his bowtie. What the actual fuck?!

Alastor murmured against her ear, “Nor are you; you knew fully well what you got yourself into.”

“I did?” she whimpered, her trembling body causing her voice to tremble, too.

He raked his fingers down through her wet hair, claws skimming her shoulders. “The more time I spend near you, the more I realize how much I enjoy playing with you.” Alastor nipped at her ear. “Toying with you.”

What? She’d tried to say that aloud but it lodged in her throat.

“Teasing you.” 

His hand sneaked around over her chest, a single claw sneaking into the knot of her towel before wiggling it loose.

The towel dropped to her knees.

Grace squeaked; it was literally all she could do in the moment.

Alastor brushed her hair forward over her shoulder. He leaned in, licking and nibbling the of Grace’s neck. “Rosie told me she thought you looked exceptionally tasty. How right she was!”

Bite! He drew blood from her shoulder; she yelped, shivered, and barely suppressed a moan.

After a moment, Alastor drew his tongue up along her spine, starting at the small of her back and ending at the nape of her neck.

Whether or not he was getting some cannibalistic jollies off tasting her, she was getting disturbingly, painfully aroused.

“Oh, Alastor,” Grace moaned, “why are you so magnificent?”

“Is that mockery?” he asked, his hand clamping around her neck.

“Anything but!” she rasped. He released her. She glanced over her shoulder to catch his gaze. “God, Alastor, are you that starved of genuine praise that you don’t recognize it?”

He scowled, then blatantly changed the subject: “Do you know what bissel means?”

Grace shook her head; when Rosie had referred to her like that, she’d assumed it was a slur of some sort.

“It means ‘a little bit.’ You’re a morsel.” Alastor then disappeared from her field of view and a searing pain shot through her right ass cheek; he’d bitten down. Hard.

She suspected he may even have taken some meat from her.

Grace cried out, promptly earning a wad of fabric wedged firmly into her mouth. “Mustn’t disturb your neighbors with that kind of noise, my dear.”

She spat it right back out only to see it was the pair of underwear she’d left heaped in her pile of dirty clothes. “Do that again.”

“Grace,” he snapped. “That was rude.”

God, how she delighted in his reprimands. “Please do that again,” Grace exhaled.

“Beg me, you wanton little sinner!”

Stay sane, deer friends!