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aemorrow.bsky.social
ash is drafting🌿
@aemorrow.bsky.social
760 followers 530 following 220 posts
she/they | pnw | author of dark fantasy & haunted romances | part-time forest nymph, full-time cryptid | finder of magic in the mundane
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aemorrow.bsky.social
A grief-torn healer, bent on vengeance against the god who claimed all she loved in death and decay, uses her craft to infiltrate the god’s court—entangling with a haunted heir, plagued by fated dreams of her arrival, who will stop at nothing to unearth her purpose.

#questpit #w #f #r #a
The House of Hemlock A WORK IN PROGRESS ONE DARK WINDOW meets STARLING HOUSE in this gothic dual POV adult romantic fantasy steeped in grief-torn promises, fate-bound strangers, and simmering tensions-where a house watches, gods scheme, and rot runs deep. The Opening There was truth in blood—meant to spill, drain life, stain the earth, and leave death grinning in its wake. The first gods knew it. They shaped the earth with rivers of it, winding red veins through stone and moss, tangling it into the roots of trees that cracked the sky open with their branches. Blood was the first language, the thread stitching life to decay, shadow to light. It was the beginning and the end, the thread through all things. It sang louder than prayers and bound tighter than oaths. It was promise and debt, offering and curse. The gods demanded it-again and again—until the earth grew slick, not with dew, but with what they were owed. But even gods forget. They never asked what would become of blood left too long untended. It rots. It rises. It remembers. The Vibes •Cursed magic and creeping rot (One Dark Window) •Haunted by prophetic visions (A Study in Drowning) •Nature’s eerie obedience (For the Wolf) •Gothic atmosphere and simmering tension (Down Comes the Night) •Sentient manor hiding secrets (Starling House) •Healing that defies the natural order (The Thirteenth Child) •Connection to death (Belladonna) A dark, spooky, nature-inspired gothic mood board
February 12, 2025 at 2:35 PM
aemorrow.bsky.social
I DID IT! now to stare at it tomorrow and see if it was brilliance or just fevered desperation
a cat with tears in its eyes holding a thumbs up. at the bottom text says, “we’re doing great”
February 5, 2025 at 3:30 AM
aemorrow.bsky.social
A grief-torn healer, bent on vengeance against the god who claimed all she loved in death and decay, uses her craft to infiltrate the god’s court—entangling with a haunted heir, plagued by fated dreams of her arrival, who will stop at nothing to unearth her purpose.

#youdeservepit #wip #f #r #a
The House of Hemlock A WORK IN PROGRESS ONE DARK WINDOW meets STARLING HOUSE in this gothic dual POV adult romantic fantasy steeped in grief-torn promises, fate-bound strangers, and simmering tensions— where a house watches, gods scheme, and rot runs deep. The Opening There was truth in blood—meant to spill, drain life, stain the earth, and leave death grinning in its wake. The first gods knew it. They shaped the earth with rivers of it, winding red veins through stone and moss, tangling it into the roots of trees that cracked the sky open with their branches. Blood was the first language, the thread stitching life to decay, shadow to light. It was the beginning and the end, the thread through all things. It sang louder than prayers and bound tighter than oaths. It was promise and debt, offering and curse. The gods demanded it-again and again—until the earth grew slick, not with dew, but with what they were owed. But even gods forget. They never asked what would become of blood left too long untended. It rots. It rises. It remembers. The Vibes •Cursed magic and creeping rot (One Dark Window) •Haunted by prophetic visions (A Study in Drowning) •Nature’s eerie obedience (For the Wolf) •Gothic atmosphere and simmering tension (Down Comes the Night) •Sentient manor hiding secrets (Starling House) •Healing that defies the natural order (The Thirteenth Child) •Connection to death (Belladonna) A dark, spooky, nature-inspired gothic mood
January 24, 2025 at 2:03 PM
aemorrow.bsky.social
the past couple mornings started with an hour of reading with coffee before touching my phone. finally cracked open mistborn at 5am 🕯️ the vibes are dark but the brain is almost functional
mistborn, by brandon sanderson, open to chapter 5 with a snowy ambience youtube video on a tv in the background and some plants around a fireplace
January 21, 2025 at 2:59 PM
aemorrow.bsky.social
A mortal woman inadvertently barters her soul to a star in a desperate plea during her execution, only to learn he’s descended to earth made flesh, bound to her for eternity, and determined to burn her free will to ash ✨

#wippit #f #r #a #w #writersky
December 14, 2024 at 6:22 PM
aemorrow.bsky.social
ONE DARK WINDOW x THE THIRTEENTH CHILD

A grief-torn healer and an heir stalked by dreams that twist fate and memory navigate a shifting manor and the dangerous pull between them as a night devoted to death and decay awakens strange magic and buried truths.

#wippit #f #r #w #writersky
December 14, 2024 at 4:17 PM
aemorrow.bsky.social
"Don't listen to him." The words scraped out of his throat, dry and uneven. He reached for a piece of bread and tore it apart with more force than necessary, just to keep his hands busy. "He's full of shit." Callan's laughter barked out, loud enough to rattle the pots overhead. He slammed a pan down on the counter for emphasis. "Maybe. But I've known you long enough to know you're full of it too."
November 28, 2024 at 4:12 PM
aemorrow.bsky.social
A flicker of warmth curled at the edges of her chest, unfamiliar and sharp. For a fleeting moment, she wanted to reach out - to touch his hand, fingers, where the rings pressed into his skin, to see if the warmth would stay if she held on just a little longer.
November 28, 2024 at 4:07 PM
aemorrow.bsky.social
The tendrils constricted, roots tightening around his legs and torso, dragging him downward. His breath rasped as his head tilted back against the wall, but his grin only widened, red- streaked teeth glinting in the dim light. "Look at you. Death in bloom. Beautiful."
November 28, 2024 at 5:27 AM
aemorrow.bsky.social
The silence between them was razor-thin, strung tight enough to snap. Eirwen's fingers twitched above the keys, trembling so violently she wanted to bury them in her lap. She wasn't sure which she hated more: that he'd seen her, or that she didn't have the strength to send him away. Finnegan didn't move. His frame was half-shrouded in shadow, but his presence bent the air around him. "You make it cruel to look away."
November 28, 2024 at 3:46 AM
aemorrow.bsky.social
The halls should have been still, lifeless. They weren't. The manor breathed with unsettling aliveness. Ivy coiled around door frames like veins searching for something to hold, leaves dark and wet as if freshly unfurled. Moss spread across the stone, creeping from cracks in the floor and climbing unevenly along the walls. Ferns stretched jagged fronds toward the low lanterns, swaying faintly, as if swimming through the night air. Even the stones beneath her feet, worn smooth by time, carried a faint warmth.
November 28, 2024 at 3:44 AM
aemorrow.bsky.social
Darrow's gaze dragged over her, deliberate, unhurried, as though measuring her reaction. The cane shifted under his weight again, a slow groan of wood against the stillness. "Strange," he murmured, his voice slicing through the thick air like the edge of a blade drawn too close. "For all the fire you carry, you still flinch like a thing waiting to be struck."
November 28, 2024 at 1:38 AM
aemorrow.bsky.social
Of course it called to her — things like that always did. She was the kind of broken that bled quiet, the kind that couldn't be stitched right no matter how many times she tried. Whatever broke, whatever failed — that was what she became. Some things were marked to shatter, and she'd been splintering piece by piece for as long as she could remember. Some things couldn't be healed. Some things were only ever meant to decay.
November 28, 2024 at 1:24 AM
aemorrow.bsky.social
It was reckless, but Finnegan let the corner of his mouth curl just enough to match. "You're looking at me like I might bite." She exhaled through her nose, a short, breathless sound - half a laugh, half a defense. "And do you?" He tilted his head, that crooked grin sharpening with just enough edge to cut. The kind that slipped under your skin without warning. "Only if you ask nicely."
November 27, 2024 at 11:42 PM
aemorrow.bsky.social
It made a twisted sort of sense. Hemlock didn't ask for reverence —he demanded it. Ignore him too long, and rot would take root, as surely as night followed day. And when it did, the cost wouldn't be measured in wilted flowers or crumbling walls — it would bleed from the inside out, unraveling all in its path. Still, the truth felt too simple. Too easy. Rot wasn't a tantrum. Hemlock wasn't a god of whims. Decay didn't spread for the sake of it — it needed something to feed on, a reason to sink its claws into the marrow of the world.
November 27, 2024 at 11:33 PM
aemorrow.bsky.social
Vex appeared at the edge of the table, her black eyes gleaming with curiosity — or mischief, as usual. She tilted her head, nose twitching at the candle flame. "You're late," Finnegan muttered, more to himself than to the fox. Vex blinked in that infuriatingly indifferent way animals do. Without hesitation, she hopped onto the table, pawing at the edge of a scroll until it rolled open. She sniffed the brittle parchment, found it uninteresting, and curled up beside an open atlas.
November 27, 2024 at 11:31 PM
aemorrow.bsky.social
Eirwen's lips curled — not quite a smile, but something sharp and unkind. "Pity you didn't get a better one. If I'd known you were so desperate for entertainment, I might've thrown myself down the steps properly." "Well now," he said slowly, "someone's got a bit of a bite." His scarred mouth twisted further, good eye gleaming with something closer to amusement. "Does that tongue of yours have a name?"
November 27, 2024 at 11:29 PM
aemorrow.bsky.social
"No one gives a damn what I look like, Maura." She clicked her tongue. "You might not care, but your father does. And so does Brayloch. They'll be looking to you once he's gone, and gods help us, you can't lead looking like you've been dragged through the muck. You need to make an impression. You'll dress properly, and who knows —you might even meet a nice lady. Gods know you could use one."
November 27, 2024 at 11:23 PM
aemorrow.bsky.social
Death wanted no part of her. She couldn't fathom why. Perhaps it feared the force in her veins — the same force binding her to a world that thrived on suffering, forcing her to endure what others could escape. Some said her eyes — one black as river stone, the other green as moss —proved a curse, the mark of someone fated to meddle with death itself.
November 27, 2024 at 11:15 PM
aemorrow.bsky.social
👉👈 hoping this will lure me back into the chaos of edits i’ve been avoiding all day. like for a quote from my my current wip!
#writingcommumnity
GET TO KNOW MY WRITING for every like, i will post one QUOTE
November 27, 2024 at 12:26 AM
aemorrow.bsky.social
#writingcommunity #wipsnips word today is ‘ride’ ft my only instance of riding in my entire manuscript wip 🌲🐎
#wipsnips: “Brayloch was far north-too far, she thought as the miles stretched on and the cold gnawed at her skin. It sat near the edge of the world, where the land gave way to dense forests that swallowed the unwary whole. She had lost track of the days-four, maybe five. Her fingers ached against the reins, struggling to hold steady with each mile. The ride north blurred in fevered disorientation, the landscape twisting, hills folding into endless ridges, forests closing in. Paths seemed to narrow as if to push her back. Now and then, she thought she heard distant voices, calling her name, too faint to catch but close enough to make her glance over her shoulder.”
November 25, 2024 at 9:32 PM
aemorrow.bsky.social
just finished arcane season 2
figure sitting with hands clasped, in despair
November 24, 2024 at 8:16 AM
aemorrow.bsky.social
✨ reshare your twitter book pitches ✨

ONE DARK WINDOW x THE THIRTEENTH CHILD

A grief-torn healer and an heir stalked by dreams that twist fate and memory navigate a shifting manor and the dangerous pull between them as a night devoted to death and decay awakens strange magic and buried truths.
November 22, 2024 at 12:07 AM
aemorrow.bsky.social
#wipsnips word today is “worth” ft my favorite side character
#wipsnips 11/20 "Apologies," he said at last, voice low and rough, though it didn't sound like an apology. More like an afterthought he didn't care to elaborate on. "Lost your footing, did you? Shame. Would've been a lovely fall." A spark kindled beneath Eirwen's ribs, sharp and unwelcome, flickering to life in the hollow spaces where exhaustion and grief had settled. Maybe it was the way he looked at her, like she was something half-finished, worth little more than a passing glance. Or maybe it was that, for the first time in days, she had the energy to care. Her lips curled-not quite a smile, but something sharp and unkind. "Pity you didn't get a better one. If I'd known you were so desperate for entertainment, I might've thrown myself down the steps properly."
November 20, 2024 at 2:34 PM
aemorrow.bsky.social
ITS HERE! in all its beautiful glory 🥀🕊️ the west coast might be getting slammed by a bomb cyclone tonight, but if the power goes out, at least i’ll be dramatically reading by candlelight
November 20, 2024 at 12:04 AM