Writing Wip - Blog Posts

Wip Whenever

This is for @reigrace-keyboardjam’s challenge.

All this fics are multifandom writing wips, because itjrir multifadom I did a bit of explaining, so the vision could still seem and enjoyed even if it’s a foreign fandom.

[Unnamed My Hero Academia (mha) piece]

This is a crack fic from the perspective Detective Naomasa who meets the villain Mr Compress at a grocery store. The thing is Naomasa has a super power to detect the truth when people lie. So when he meets suave undercover Compress buying… er stealing for his villain friends, things… get out of hand.

Especially when Naomasa learn that the man is lying about having a daughter, being a police officer Naomasa assumes the worst and trying to arrest. They end up handcuffed together with cuffs that cancel out their superpowers. Naomasa is unable to detect truth while attached to a proven lier. So now they have to work together to get the handcuffs off. Who knows maybe an unlikely friendship will occur.

Know how or idea why I came this story idea but the brain worms won’t go away.

(Beneath the Aragon Sea a transformers fic)

This story is a coming of age story that centers around a young Hot Rod. Who returns to his war ravaged planet Cybertron with the autobots only to get captured by Quintesson invaders, who are capturing both autobot and their enemy decepticons for slave.

Through an accident Hot Rod absorbs the matrix of leadership, this gets noticed by Soundwave takes him and they escape. So Hot Rod finds himself pretending to be leader while he tries to return the matrix to its rightful owner Optimus Prime, which means going back to where they escaped from.

So stuck with a powerful enemy Hot Rod from collects fellow survivors like Pokemon. Which be good thing if he didn’t have to lead them through the bowls of a planet that is very much alive (survival with slight horror). Many of these people also don’t like each other so his work is cut for him.

This fic has two chapters already published. It is also a glorified excuse to write about my favorite, action adventure and describe cool metal planet scenery as well as worldbuild to my heart desire.

(Wind Bound Embers a genshin fanfic)

This one features Detective Heizou who decides to take an unexpected vacation to a foreign nation. Which is really an excuses to investigate a shady or Giza toon known as the Fatui at their hotspot.

However he not the only foreigner investing fatui activities, as the Dark Hero (basically Batman) turns up as well. They get all in each other way over their rivaling investigations and shenanigans ensue.

Bruh writing out my wipes like this made me realize have a thing character development through comedic High-jinks 🤣 I blame you Rei.

(Unnamed Starwar Old Republic Fic)

Would like to write a 5-6 chapter fic where each chapter focus a my Jedi Consolars relationship with each of her class companions.

I plan to write more Swtor stuff in the future when I’ve fleshed out my legacy more. So that I have better sense of how the pieces fit together. So sitting on my hands for now.

Thank you for the challenge!

I lied, I never worked on them (；′⌒`)

I tried! Just writing block (AheM- let's call it that) didn't like the fact I tried to make my life better ig, so I didn't work on them and didn't post them...

maybe I eventually will, but right now they are sitting with the dead WIP's...

-:Responses to ‘I love you’ prompts:-

@me-writes-prompts

“I love you too.”

“I don’t.”

“Right.”

“Everyone does, sweetheart. Tell me something new.”

“Do you really, though?” 🤨

“I love you too, but you really need to put that knife down.” 

“I have to go.”

“...oh.”

“Oh, so now you love me? Not even a moment ago you hated me.” 

“You think you do, but you don’t. You don’t love me.” 

“So what? What about it? You’ve told me that a million times, and it all comes down to you wanting to believe that you can still love someone.” 

“Do you, now? I love me too <3”

“You should love yourself first, sweetheart.” oooooooh

“I know.”

“It’s okay, you’ll think better of it in no time.”

“So did they, and they still left me.”

"And here I thought we were enemies."

"You're choking me."

I have so many ideas for Electrifying Home, but I don't know how to write them in the story, and when I sit down to write it never comes to me...

LMK: Random Drabble

Macaque found himself refocusing when the front door bell's jingle reached his ears. Paired with the sound of a downpour, which became muffled again when the door clicked shut. He sat still, keeping his eyes closed. Focusing onto the small rapid heartbeat beating away in the foyer of the dojo. The slow breaths drawn in and out as water dripped onto the ground. He listened, as they gathered themselves before moving. Their wet clothes shuffled as they observed their surroundings. Before creeping down the hallway, hardly making a peep. Macaque reinstated his human glamour. Before looking over and opening his eyes to meet a curious gaze peeking around the corner of the doorway. Only for their eyes to blow open as the human child stared at him like a deer in headlights.

“Hello,” Macaque gave the child a small polite nod in greeting. Snapping them out of their shock as they dashed out from behind the doorway and bowed.

“I-I’m sorry,” They stammered, voice small and quaking. With what could've been mistaken for nervousness, and not the fear it was, “I- I thought-”

“This place was still abandoned?” Macaque carefully interrupted. Sensing that one wrong action would have this kid back in the downpour. One that shouldn't finish anytime soon if he remembered the weather report correctly.

“Yes, sir,” The soaked kid gave a short nod, peering through their dark hair.

“It’s fine,” He shrugged, before giving a nod towards the boxes pushed up against the walls.

“I just moved in a few days ago, so it makes sense you’d think it was still abandoned.”

“Plus, I’m the idiot who left the front door unlocked,” He flashed the kid a playful smirk. Getting a small smile in response as their shoulders relaxed.

“Let me get you some towels,” He hummed, purposely telegraphing his movements as he unfolded himself from the lotus pose he had been meditating in.

“You're making me cold by just standing there."

“Wh-what?”

“I’m not kicking you back out there kid,” He looked over his shoulder to raise an eyebrow at them, “Do I look like an asshole who’d let a child wander in that downpour?”

“No?” They blinked, looking baffled.

“I’m not." He confirmed turning away. Striding across the dojo to the pocket door that hid the staircase that led up to the apartment above. He slid the door open and disappeared around the corner, taking the first step up the stairs only to pause. Checking to make sure the kid couldn’t see him. Despite not having heard the kid move, besides the shivers that plagued their thin body. Macaque dropped down into the shadows and darted up into the apartment. Slipping into the closet where he stored the extra towels. Reaching out of the shadows to grab some of his fluffiest towels. Pulling them into his arms in the shadows. Belatedly remembering how the kid’s clothes were just as soaked as him, so drying off would only do so much. Macaque debated about making some clothes to fit the kid better, before realizing how creepy that would look. Ah yes, a grown man having children’s clothes on hand, not at all suspicious. With that thought, Macaque bolted across the apartment. Entering his bare closet to grab the smallest t-shirt and sweatpants he had. Which would still hang off the kid’s body by a lot, he snorted to himself as he threw them on top of the towels. Zipping back down to reformed behind the wall.

“Alright kid,” He walked back out, eyes drifting to the kid, who now had a small puddle formed under them. The kid stiffened and stood at attention. Staring at him in surprise, “I got you some clothes too."

“Though, fair warning, they're me sized-” He gestured at himself, then at them- “and not kiddo sized.” He crouched down to pass them the pile, which they carefully took with wide stunned eyes.

“There’s a bathroom you can get changed in right down the hallway,” He loosely gestured at the end of the hallway. As the kid blinked, standing there in shock before shaking their head to snap themselves out of it. Not realizing they just splashed their host by doing so, not that Macaque really minded or cared.

“Thank you,” They squeaked, cheeks flushing as they gave a quick bow before dashing down the hallway. Pausing at the end to rapidly look around before finding the bathroom and ducking into it. Macaque stared down the hallway, crouching there for a moment. Before sighing as he looked down at the puddle, following the wet marks up to the front door with his eyes. Where he could see the rain still coming down outside.

“I swear,” He muttered, cursing his soft heart for kids as he pushed himself up to get another towel to wipe the mess up.

how you know ive been writing 💀

i have three(3) m!ik writing wips rn and at least one character breaks down to tears in ALL OF THEM.

i really said "hm, this is a pretty small fandom. you know what it needs more of? Trauma." (* ´ ▽ ` *) teehee

told myself i can have one of those stupid looking saiki k plushies if i finish the fic i just started writing, so if i post a one shot isekai spoof out of the blue this week, you know why

Cole by the window - Tacita Corvus peek

Soon, perhaps too soon, Cole found himself sitting alone in the attic, the moon shinning in the sky. Hours had passed since dinner time, and every member of the Vasily family had gone to sleep. Though, it didn’t much bother the boy that he was left with nothing but the company of Mx. Moon and Ella Froufrou, who was seated comfortably in his lap.

He stared out the windows, gaze fixed upon the winged creatures that slumbered upon the roofs of family’s and lonely people alike. There was a feeling of both uncertainty and comfort in the air, one that Cole was not yet familiar with. It felt strange to be dressed in clean clothes, curled up under a blanket and observing the stillness of Lanercost with a full stomach.

Cole thought for a moment, brows creasing as he searched his memory for what he was looking for. When he found it, he couldn’t help but smirk and let out a satisfied and partly amused sigh.

Nyctophilia.

That was the word he had been searching for. It was a noun, meaning ‘an attraction to darkness or night; finding relaxation or comfort in the darkness.’

He smiled at the definition, though, he then began to chuckle lightly under his breath as he gazed at the stars, having suddenly remembered another bit of information he had gained from the library, just as he had the rest of his knowledge.

He had suddenly acknowledged the meaning of Nyx’s name.

Cole recalled that Nyx was the daughter of chaos, primordial goddess of the night in Greek mythology. Though the name itself leaned more towards feminine, it was still androgynous either way, which was most likely why Nyx had chosen it for themselves.

 Cole gave a small hum into the darkness, he thought it was a lovely name, and even lovelier now that he had recalled its meaning. He hoped that maybe one day the two could find a way to converse, as it was difficult to do so presently.

The boy returned his attention to the town and the candles still burning in people’s windows. There were few, but each one let him know that someone else was still awake, possibly suffering from insomnia, or simply enjoying the nighttime as Cole was.

The boy felt a small pang of something in his chest as he recalled the sounds of the violin he would often hear when drifting off to sleep in the alley of forest row; how the smooth symphony had accompanied the stars perfectly.

Inspiration hits me so what do u think

Ecstatic to say that I’m in that particular writing flow state again. You know which I mean—the one where time and space do not exist.

radiomacbeth | general taglist check.

Since I’ve essentially reset my blog, I decided I should also reset my general taglist! Those who wish to be on my general taglist will be tagged for:

❀ WIP Intros.

❀ Excerpts from WIPs and Short Stories.

❀ Snippets of poetry.

❀ General Blog Updates.

You will not be tagged in posts specific to certain WIPS. Those will feature their own taglists. You will also not be tagged in tag games. If you wish to be added to my general taglist, interact with this post (likes, rbs, and replies all count)!

Current Taglist: @42ndplace​ @catgirlnya​ @talesofsorrowandofruin​ @haldimilks​ @keira-is-writing​ @piyawrites​ @kitblogsthings​ @svpphicwrites​ @alexsidereus​ @rainbowcoloreddays​ @dahladahlabills​ @sunwornpages​ @bookphobe​ @writing-el​ @moonyspoon​ @oceancold​ @feverdreamwritings​ @ravens-and-rivers​

"Y'know let me just-."

Falls over onto my growing piles of WIPs, before going absolutely feral.

 ۫  ִ ׂ💭 ◟♡ ˒ ⊹  ݁ ִ  ۫ WIPS

╰─  ᝰ🍮𔘓 navi

🍥 ,, hc's

Model au . Albedo, scaramouche & childe

Kakegurui au . Doetter, scaramouche & childe

Being friends kazuha and tomo . Platonic

🍥 ,, one shots

Klutz!reader . Scaramouche, childe, doetter & signora

Late night snacks . Scaramouche / retail!au / some hc's

Calling xiao's name for different reasons . Xiao / loads of au's

🍥 ,, series

Crime of crossing paths . Xiao / loads of angst no comfort

Glass cage . Scaramouche / hurt.comfort . mostly fluff

Hare with young, oil on panel, Henriette Ronner-Knip (1821-1909)

Whoosh, whoosh. This is, now, the time when sun holds its highest place in the sky. this is when you step through the warm field of blooming poppies, lily sprouts, and tulip buds.

On this path of nurturing life, growth awaits you, welcomes vitality. Make a wish for a spark of life. Whether you seek a bountiful harvest, the blossoming of youth or fertility, The path of the hare leads you to the temple. Encounter his effigy. Offer him your devotion. Present your prayer.

When your wishes align with nature’s rhythm, only the hare can satisfy it. Always leave offerings—young fruit trees, tender buds or fresh herbage—to display your gratitude.

- Aelenist

(Context : snippet of a story with different types of gods with different utility. Please give feedback !)

The fate of Ashur, he who dared to slay his flesh

Somewhere in the world a goddess wept the loss of her son and cursed the world for taking him from her. The cold broken body of the boy, barely a teen was clutched to her chest, only an empty husk left.

"I always have to get my hand dirty because of you. This is your fault, and no one else's." the cold voice of Ashur sounded from behind. She heard the sound of metal touching leather, but didn't move, no longer caring that she was wide open to a man that had just unsheathed his blade, ready to cut her down as if she was merely a wilted flower. Boiling rage coursed through her veins tears forever flowing down her cheeks and onto the dirt below. And where they hit the ground small blue flowers would appear in the shape of tears. The people called them Grape Hyacinth, in honor of the goddess who's tears had been turned into flowers. She may have perished that day, but before her divine soul had been turned into ashes she placed one last curse on the god who had killed her son. Hyacinth cursed him to never be able to lay rest and to forever be hounded by those he called his own, so that he may never be capable of love for another ,the way she had loved him and their son.

small snippet from my WIP

Shards and Splinters | Weeping Embers

Dried leaves fluttered in the breeze, crunching amongst each other as if whispering secrets into the wind to be carried away. The streets lay abandoned, everyone still asleep tightly in their warm beds awaiting the dawn of yet another day like any other before. But today wasn’t going to be a usual day.

From the moment his eyelids opened, and he jolted out of bed breathing as if he had been chased around the whole world by an army of demons Archer Uberto could tell there was something different about today. The sun rose to the skies just like every other morning, drowning the world in light and warmth as it had done perhaps trillions of times before, yet still, the boy could not shake the feeling something was out of place. It wasn’t anything obvious, else he would have noticed by now, like how you’d know if someone had moved your socks from their rightful place, but not if a splinter was missing from your desk. The feeling, although persistent did nothing to deter him from entering back into his routine almost robotically, forgetting about the dream that had startled him awake, or of the pungent smell of creos in his home...

Archer paused repeating the thought that had just passed through his mind. Creos? What even were creos and why did he think of that? A puzzled expression flashed on his face before the shrill ringing of his phone broke his line of thought, pulling him back into reality harshly. His body moved on its own, traversing the neat and clean room all the way to the small bookshelf adorning the whole left wall of his room before turning off that blasted noise, so he could once more rejoice in the softer morning sounds.

A crow stood atop one of the branches that neared his window, silently observing the teen as he exited the building dressed in an old baseball shirt and dark green jeans. It cawed out twice before taking off into the mushy clouds in search of its morning meal.

The sudden flapping of feathers alerted a nearby mouse and sent it scurrying back beneath the dumpster it had crawled from, the dark feathered bird now taking its place, atop the lid that rested on the wall behind it. From there it had a clear view of the lanky teen as he scurried into the backroom, before coming out with a green apron and getting behind the counter, just as the doors of the cafe opened to let in a stream of groggy and grumpy customers who couldn’t be bothered with pleasantries at such an early hour.

Archer sighed in relief upon hearing the bell hung above the door ring one final time that day, the last customer exiting the small Starbucks, coffee in hand. With a sudden sense of accomplishment, the boy grinned to himself, returning to the backroom. He greeted the rest of his colleagues politely and made a bit of small chat before changing from his uniform back into his soft dark jacket and exiting the building while humming a soft tune and swinging his arms in

Page Break

the air as if he were conducting a band of invisible musicians. There were barely any people on the streets at the time to judge him, and even those who saw him as mad he could not be bothered to pay attention to.

Upon crossing the street, he stopped in the middle, waiting for someone to come out of nowhere and run him over, but after a few minutes and not even the sight of a bike, he let out an exasperated sigh and continued on his journey back to his warm bed and fluffy pillow. Perhaps next time he would have more luck, Archer pouted jokingly while swatting a few stray strands of mahogany hair out of his eyes, only for the evening breeze to blow them right back into his face, blinding him momentarily. And it was all it took, just that one moment, he smelled that same scent his room had that morning, and that feeling came back over a thousand times stronger.

He whirled around clutching his sides, as a stinging pain bloomed right where his ribs caged his lungs and the wind picked up, raising clouds of fallen and dried leaves into the air and surrounding him. Archer clenched his eyes tightly, burying his head into his chest, now fully aware that that feeling of something being awfully wrong had not been only in his tired mind.

“There’s no way I’m going to die to a cloud of leaves today” he screeched, before choking on something and falling into a coughing fit, his eyes watering and his ears ringing.

HAHA

I wrote a WIP of a certain part of the story after certain events that will happen in a certain moment of time of my story

ANGST

A lot of angst

I love angst

As I delved deeper into the pages, a sensation, foreign and heavy, draped over me. A coolness brushed against my cheek, and I reached up to find dampness lingering there. Tears? A question danced on my lips as I questioned the emotion gripping my heart. Sorrow? The word echoed in my mind, unfamiliar yet hauntingly familiar. My vision blurred, words on the page melding into an incomprehensible blur. The book, once held with casual indifference, now felt weighty in my grasp. It was as if its contents held the answers to questions I hadn't even known to ask. With each turn of the page, the tears flowed freely, tracing rivulets down my cheeks. My hand tightened around the book, as if anchoring myself to its pages in the storm of emotions raging within me. I sank to my knees, the cold floor beneath me a stark reminder of the warmth that had seeped from my soul. The text before me remained a mystery, obscured by the veil of tears. Why did these pages, these words, evoke such an ache within me? Why did I feel as though I were mourning the loss of something precious, something I couldn't even name? A hollow ache settled in my chest, a void that no amount of tears could fill. It was a longing, a yearning for something beyond my grasp. Memories, half-forgotten, danced at the edge of my consciousness, teasing me with their elusive presence. Who was I missing? What had I forgotten? In the silence of that moment, amidst the weight of unspoken sorrow, I realized that some emotions transcended language, as I sat there, lost in a sea of tears and unanswered questions.

MUAHAHAHA