Part of Yeehawgust 2023
[ WIP intro ] [ my Yeehawgust tag]
Length: 326~ words
Warnings: angst, specifically queer angst, cursing
Backstory:Â this is set in my original WIP Sisterhood of Blood. This snippet would technically be a prequel when Rosalind and Eliza were younger. Sapphic romance and angst babyyyy
Let me know if you would like to be tagged in future yeehawgust posts from me!
âRosalind, youâre a goddamned fool if you think this is the answer,â Elizaâs broken voice whispered, cutting through the silence. Her arms wrapped around herself as she paced the space between their horsesâ stalls. Pain crumpled her face, her brows knit together as she refused to meet Rosalindâs gaze.
âLiza,â Rosalind murmured back to her, abandoning her saddlebag on a heap of hay. She approached her girlfriend, hands reaching for her, but Eliza pushed them away from her. âEliza. Come with me. Weâll ride at dawn-â she paused, desperation heavy on her tongue. âIâll take care of you. Iâll take care of us. Just think about it, it would just be you, me, and the great open plains.â
Digging around in her jean pockets, Rosalind pulled out a simple gold wedding band. She was waiting for the right time to do it - specifically after they ran off together at the break of dawn - but she needed Eliza to know she meant it. Lowering herself down onto one knee, she felt the sting of fresh tears welling in her eyes. Eliza ceased her pacing. They looked at each other and in that moment the entire world held its breath.
âEliza, Iâve loved you from the moment we first spoke,â Rosalind began, voice wavering. âYou are the reason my days have meaning. You are as brilliant as the sun, bringing light and warmth. Like the wildflowers that sprout outside your window, I bloom in your presence.â The next words caught in her throat. A hot tear rolled down her cheek as Eliza covered her mouth in shock. âWould you make me the happiest woman alive, Eliza Carpenter? Allow me to nurture you, take care of you, and dedicate my very life to you?â
The silence hung in the air, tension taut like fresh leather. The only sound in Rosalindâs ear aside from her thrumming heartbeat was Elizaâs soft cries.
âRosalind, I-â her lover murmured, lips trembling. âI canât.â
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Part of Yeehawgust 2023
[ WIP intro ] [ my Yeehawgust tag]
Length: 500~ words
Warnings: alcohol, mention of alcohol abuse
Backstory: after a falling out with the Goldridge Rebellion, Rosalind attempts to make amends and bring the posse back together to take back their town once and for all.
Let me know if you would like to be tagged in future yeehawgust posts from me!
If one thing could bring the group together, it was good booze. Lucinda graciously offered her saloon to Rosalind - for a price, of course. The rebellion needed this meeting to shake off hard feelings. A concrete plan was needed if they were going to wrench Goldridge from the clutches of Caldwell and his crew.Â
Wood squeaked against wood as Rosalind finished rearranging the last of the tables into the center of the room. From her overcoat pocket she unfurled the shittiest map of Godridge she sketched by hand the night before and smoothed it over the top of the tables along with some nubs of colored pencils that she âborrowedâ from Clementineâs room back at the Jacobs ranch.Â
âStill got that whiskey, Cinda?â Rosalind called over her shoulder, eyeing the squares and lines that made up her map.Â
âYeah and you still got the cash?â Lucindaâs gruff voice crooned from the saloonâs kitchen. âWhat makes you think Eliza and the rest of âem want to see your face again?â
Rosalind snorted, shrugging her overcoat off and depositing it over the back of a worn out chair. ââCause whoâs gonna turn down booze in this town?â
When the hour to meet came and went, it felt as if the world stood still. The oil lamps on the tabletops filled the saloon with a warm glow, creating a beacon for the rest of the group to follow as night swallowed Goldridge. Rosalind stared at the front door, listening to the maddening tick, tick, tick of Lucindaâs grandfather clock. The whiskey and moonshine bottles sat on top of her map, practically begging to be popped open and swallow her anxieties.Â
But before long, the group arrived.Â
Su Yang clambered through the door first, dressed in that beautiful ruby gown Rosalind liked so much. In her arm, she dragged a disgruntled Charlie who shot the outlaw with a scowl when they passed her. Anna appeared in the doorway not too long after, following her brotherâs lead in side-eyeing Rosalind. They gathered around the table, seemingly in high spirits, though they ignored the woman who had sent for them. Lucinda joined their ranks, pouring generous glasses for everyone.
Rosalind held her breath. They were missing just one crucial piece to this puzzle. Shuffling to the door of the saloon, she stole a peek outside to see if she could make out any other stragglers. The main road of Goldridge offered nothing but the faint sound of jovial piano music from the mayorâs home where Caldwellâs gang partied.
âI hope Iâm not too late,â Elizaâs exasperated voice drifted from the back of the saloon. She brushed her brilliant gold hair out of her face before adjusting a sleeping Clementine on her hip. Rosalindâs heart nearly burst and it took every ounce of self control to not run over and envelope the woman in her arms. After their screaming match the other day, she wanted nothing more than to grovel at Elizaâs feet and worship her like the goddess she was.
âNot too late at all,â Rosalind reassured her, flashing her a crooked smile. âGangâs all here.â
Summary: Caleb Caldwell descends upon Goldridge with promises and lies. (he is the primary villain in my WIP)
Warnings: descriptions of violence, blood, arson, and death
Word Count: 460~
The devil made his home in Goldridge on a pretty spring day. He wore a fine linen suit, perfectly tailored to his willowy frame. The shadows seemed to kneel before him wherever he walked, his stride purposeful and movements graceful. Cunning eyes bore into every person they met, seeing into the depths of their soul.
âIâm here to make you a deal,â he declared, standing before the town mayor. He held his hat between his fingers, dark hair perfectly coiffed on top of his head. The devil flashed this perfect smile, showing off his pearly whites and dimpled cheeks.Â
He promised to make something out of Goldridge - a paradise of rivers teeming with gold. He promised to turn water into wine, dirt into oil, and set the citizens of Goldridge up for generations of wealth and influence. The mayor, with his rose tinted glasses and naivete, eagerly got to work drafting a contract over some cold whiskey and steak. He bargained with the devil through the wee hours of the night, their close friends enjoying themselves in the bustling saloons and at poker tables.
Before any contract could be signed, gunfire rang out from the mayorâs home. The sound pierced the quiet night air of Goldridge. Then another shot rang out, taking the sheriff to an early grave.
By the break of dawn, an entire posse of the devilâs men stormed into the small West Texas town. Most of the townsfolk had little time to prepare. By the time many of them picked up their guns, one of the demons would strike them down.
âSpare the women,â the devil told his men with a sly smile, tossing the torch into the little white chapel just beside the general store. The flames engulfed the wooden structure, licking the steeple and busting out the stained glass windows. âString up the men for all I care.âÂ
By noon that day, more than half of Goldridge lay dead in the streets. Blood pooled in the trenches made by horse hooves. The chapel, along with the general store and a few homes continued to burn, the smoke billowing into the pretty blue sky above. The survivors cowered, holding one another. Their stomachs lurched every time another shot from a pistol went off. The devil marched across the veranda of the dead mayorâs home, wearing a pristine white suit with flashy gold buttons. He smiled down at the women his crew rounded up, a cruel edge in his pale blue eyes.Â
âFear not,â he spoke, his voice as smooth as ice. âYouâre under the protection of Caleb Caldwell now. Your salvation begins here.â
Goldridge was reborn in a matter of hours, screaming and bloodied like a newborn babe, with its devil masquerading as its savior.
Part of Yeehawgust 2023
[ WIP intro ] [ my Yeehawgust tag]
Summary: Eliza grapples with the grief of her daughter growing up.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 350~
âAnd youâre sure you have everything you need?â Elizaâs worried voice carried through the old ranch house. âYou got your key, your lunch, and your list?â She fretted over Clementine, pacing the kitchen as she fumbled with drawers to make sure she hadnât left any small item behind that she may need.
15 year old Clementine had sprouted like a weed over the summer months. She was nearly taller than her mother and the spitting image of her. She sported a satchel and an exasperated smile as she watched her mother rattled off every little item she would need for her short journey.
âYes, mama, Iâm very sure I have everything,â Clementine reassured her, giving her bag a firm pat. âYou know, you really gotta start trusting me.â
Eliza wilted at her daughterâs words, tired blue eyes widening like a hurt puppy. A line formed between her brows. âI do trust you, Clem, itâs just that itâs your first time leaving home without me or Rosalind accompanying you. The ride will be long and god knows what kind of trouble could arise-â
Clementine approached her mother, setting a gentle hand on her slender shoulder. She grinned at her. âMama, Iâm just riding into town to get some pantry supplies. It really ainât that big âa deal. Iâll only be gone for a few hours tops.â Eliza studied her daughterâs face, tracing the soft freckles like they were stars in the night sky.
âYouâre right,â she conceded. A deep sigh escaped her lungs and she felt the sting of tears welling. âYouâre nearly grown. You deserve room to do things on your own and make your own mistakes like I did when I was your age.â
A small giggle filled the quaint kitchen and Clementine reached out to envelope her worried mother in a hug. âDonât worry, mama, if trouble comes up Iâll speed straight home,â she told her in a sing-song voice. âBesides, Rosalind made sure I had several different weapons on me. I love my mother hens, even when they waste daylight worrying over little old me.â
Part of Yeehawgust 2023
[ WIP intro ] [ my Yeehawgust tag]
Summary: Rosalind enjoys a hot and heavy evening with an unknown woman when her identity is revealed.
Word Count: 430~ words
Warnings: OSHA VIOLATION, 18+ only, check Ao3 tags for specific warnings, note that this work will be set to registered users only at the end of August
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Tagging (if you want to): @celestialbunnistories @alcego-writes @mshelleys @mayvinwrites @tea-and-pirates @lonelywanderingstars @thoughtbloom @phantom-stargazer @iced-ginger-tea @rumpixel @draculinawrites @lordkingsmith @thelittlestspider @violetcancerian @thechapelscrow and anyone who sees this and wants to give it a go!
Inspired by @quilloftheclouds @draculinawrites I made a character-centric bingo board for my main in my western Sisterhood of Blood. Feel free to crop the top and bottom of the pic because I know itâs really long LOL
Happy STS! What is your current favorite moment in your WIP, written or unwritten?
Thank you for the STS ask, Undine!!
From Sisterhood of Blood, aside from this excerpt when Eliza and Rosalind meet for the first time after 7 years, my other favorite part Iâve written so far is Rosalind trying to be a parent for the first time: