crystallized-ink:

Find the Word Tag

tagged by @regan-wickworreand@mel-writes-with-her-dragons thank you!! did this all from Operation Get It Right unless one of my other WIPs had the word!

FINGER/S:

Silver says nothing more as he stops in front of the doors. It’s a small church, abandoned and covered in moss and vines, a hole in the stone of its walls, graffiti scrawled across the bits of it that peek through the vines. The wooden doors have rotted with time, one hanging off the hinges, both door handles long since broken off. Silver reaches forward to grasp one of the doors, sliding his fingers into the gap between them and wincing at how spongy the wood is beneath his hand. With a hard tug, he pulls the door open. It scrapes against the stone beneath it, wood creaking in protest, and he has it halfway open when the bit of wood he’s gripping breaks. He flinches at the snap, stumbles back, grip tightening on the lantern in his surprise.

NOTHING:

Silver rolls his eyes and looks away, eyes scanning the courtyard as he contemplates his life choices. He doesn’t even know why he thought bartering with a Corrupt - much less one named Vendetta of all things - would magically work out for him when nothing’s ever worked out for him before. He remembers the stories his aunt had told him, the warnings to never let anyone get inside his head. But when it comes to never letting anyone hurt him, Silver has failed time and time again. The story Vendetta told him had appealed to Silver’s empathy, and his promise to help Silver recover had sounded so sweet.

YOU:

“Oh?” Vendetta says, and Silver’s insides freeze over at the pure danger in his voice. Vendetta takes a few slow steps towards him, and Silver takes a step back. “That’s not how it works, hm?” Silver glares up at Vendetta, mouth pulling into a shaking snarl. He knows that tone, has heard it too many times, and his bones ache with remembered danger. “You have no idea what I can do.”

GROUND:

“So valiant,” Vendetta says, voice dreamy. “Always wanting to protect those you love.” His grin melts into a vicious smirk. “But you’re the one who needs protection… Aren’t you, Silver?”

Silver’s face goes a hot, burning red, body warming despite the cold. “Screw you,” he snarls, and then pushes himself off the wall, thumping to the ground, his shoes sinking into the soft dirt.

OUTSIDE:

The day goes mostly as it should. Lyssa renews the protection sigils around the outside of her house, gets herself ready for the night, buys some ingredients for their after-mission picnic. She’s not excited, not necessarily, more full of nervous energy than anything, as she always is before their little adventures. In her mind, she packs the feeling up in a box and sets it neatly aside, something that she’s gotten quite good at doing.

(couldn’t find strength in any of my WIPs!)

ANIMAL (from my doc for future scenes of Said the Snake):

“Like an animal,” she whispers into his ear, pressing a kiss to the lobe. “Play dead.”

HOME:

Piggy doesn’t know what she’s doing.

They put her in her new home a month ago, and she doesn’t know what she’s doing. She knows a few things, but she doesn’t do them right. She knows how to make tea, and what kind she likes - green tea, with honey - but sometimes her hands shake too hard and she breaks the cup. She knows how to brush her hair, but she always forgets to. She knows how to make her bed, but she waits days and days and days to do it.

tagging, with no pressure, @ashen-crest@cecilsstorycorner@cryptid-s-wips@jewellsfrommaruss@kryskakikomi@fleetingfictions@authortango and anyone else who would like to!! your words are throat, flower, dust, and song!!