Do you know when the next part of the One-Winged Angel fic will be out? Its really good and I keep checking back similar to how if you keep checking the fridge every 5 minutes it will magically restock with more food 👉👈
Well, I’d be happy to answer!
Honestly… I’m not exactly sure when I can get it out. Honestly it’s, like, 60-80% finished depending on how long the end bit gets, so… I could mayyybe get it out by tomorrow if I pushed it but that’s assuming I can muster up the motivation.
I’m the kind of person who simply doesn’t operate according to schedules. I do things when I feel like it, and that’s the end of things. However, I’ll try my best to get myself back into the mood to write it again!
Here’s an itty-bitty preview to thank you for your patience:
Lute awoke from uneasy dreams to find that her head was throbbing. It wasn’t as bad as it was last time she was awake, and her legs felt a lot better now- as well as her wing, though not by much- but it was still painful.
She got up, finding it surprisingly difficult to raise her head, as it had become mysteriously heavier than normal. When her hand reached to her head, she felt a familiar yet strangely different sensation: the horns of her mask.
Right, she never actually removed her helmet, did she? The face was knocked off, but she certainly still had it on by the time she tore off her wing….
When she opened her eyes, she found herself in a dim, expensive-looking room covered with mahogany furniture amidst scarlet wallpaper. She’d never seen a room like this in her life… but it reminded her of the lobby, the hotel lobby where she lost her wing.
Did that Sinner… take her to the hotel? No, no way: the hotel collapsed- very nearly with her inside. She couldn’t actually be there anymore: it was impossible.
As she thought hard looking for an answer, her hand grasped the mask’s horns again… and she felt something that made her stop in shock.
She felt her hair. Right next to one of the horns. Rough, dirty, probably stained with dry blood.
Her hair was feelable through the mask. But… how? The only was that was possible was if… if…
As she felt the horns one more time, she noticed that they felt… detailed. She could feel every tiny line from the keratin that made horns up: real horns, not fake ones.
…She had grown horns. Real horns.
Now, of course, this preview takes up like… 10% of the chapter, at most. It’s also like… a quarter through, I think? The chapter actually opens with a surprisingly light-hearted scene with Charlie and Vaggie. Two fun facts:
The chapter’s title, Room 40, was naturally named after the number of Lute’s new room in the hotel. However that room, in turn, was named after the fact that 40 is apparently a biblical number associated with trials, change, and fresh starts. It’s why the Great Flood lasted 40 days.
The opening sentence of this scene was inspired by the opening sentence of Franz Kafka’s Metamorphosis: “As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect.” (that does not happen to lute here but at the same time the horns aren’t the only change she went through overnight… remember how much it was stressed in Chapter 2 that her legs weren’t feeling so good?)
And in case you’re wondering, no, my fics usually never have this much thought put into them.
I’ll see you when the next chapter comes out!
