♪ it lives — writing samples ★

roxybirdie

𝐁𝐛𝐨𝐤𝐀𝐫𝐢 🐣
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
  1. Look for groups
  2. Looking for partners
Posting Speed
  1. One post per day
  2. Multiple posts per week
  3. 1-3 posts per week
  4. One post per week
  5. Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
  4. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Nonbinary
  4. Transgender
  5. Agender
Genres
Adventure Time, Apocalypse, Bleach, The Dragon Prince, Dark Academia, Dungeons & Dragons, Cyberpunk, Fantasy, Genshin Impact, LGBTQIA+, Medieval, Modern, My Hero Academia, Naruto, Palia, Romance, Sandbox RPG, Sci-Fi, Solarpunk, Steampunk, Supernatural, Superpower, Teen Wolf, Voltron: Legendary Defender, Zombie Apocalypse
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WRITING SAMPLES
— ★ IWAKU
Heyo! itliveswithin here! You can call me Rose. Introducing my lil' corner of the world! The majority of my entries — one-shots or roleplay excerpts — will be fandom, but don't be surprised if I sprinkle the thread with original pieces. It depends on my muse! Please refrain from commenting. Keep all feedback via conversations. Thanks! ٩(๑❛ʚ❛๑)۶

— ♡ ROSE
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HALFBREED
naruto fandom
canons only
madara x kakashi
roleplay post
631 words
[ TW for guilt, self-loathing & trauma ]

"Your mother was right, you know,"

All the sudden, the quaint guest quarters melted away and without warning, Kakashi was perched on a fallen log in front of a roaring campfire. The area surrounding the log was unfocused. Faceless bystanders walked to and fro like insignificant specters. A cacophony of sounds washed over him, but it felt like he were under water. Madara sat in front of him with striking clarity. The calloused palm cradling the back of his head felt exceptionally warm and safe. Obsidian eyes regarded him with unyielding resolve. For a moment, it felt as if the Clan Head were peering inside his soul.

"We will fight together, then,"

His breath hitched. Out of nowhere, the banquet morphed into a stark white platform surrounded by a fathomless black sky. Before the weight of the truth crushed Madara, Kakashi swallowed his turmoil and pieced himself back together. Instead of crumbling under the fear of rejection, the war veteran reached out.

"—you're not alone."

Kakashi blinked and his surroundings shattered. What felt like minutes were only seconds. Once he returned to the small guest room, the half-Hatake latched onto the last remnants of the Clan Head's conversation.

It would be healthier if you were angry at me. The mere suggestion made his wolf absolutely rebel. "No," he rasped. Once upon a time, Kakashi directed his anger, bitterness, and resentment at Madara. He let the seeds of doubt — the insidious voice in the back of his head — take root inside his heart and manipulate him. However, the war veteran looked past the black flames of Amaterasu and saw the worthy man underneath. "I will never use you like that." A common scapegoat meant to harbor all the wrongdoings of a manipulative parasite. His stomach roiled at the thought.

"It was not your duty to safe my brother. It is not your duty to carry the sins of my future self."

His mouth tasted like ash. The bitter smile creeping on the Clan Head's face intensified the foul taste. His expression tightened.

"My duty is to assist you in every way I can."

Something inside him snapped. He slammed his hands on the table, jostling the tray violently. "It's more than that!" Kakashi roared. Even if he raised his voice, the righteous anger wasn't directed at Madara. "Your duty is more than that," he elaborated. His expression constricted. "More than a common meat shield." As if the Clan Head's life was expandable; a sacrifice for the greater good. "More than an obligation." Kakashi was no stranger to life debts. Even if he transcended time and space, the half-Hatake felt its crushing weight. He was grateful for Madara's assistance, and his presence, but the Clan Head was more than a plot device meant to usher a better future. "You're more than that." If only Madara knew the truth. "You don't owe me anything." If only the ravenette knew how much he meant to him. "Your company is enough." If only Madara knew what Kakashi would do — how much blood he would spill — to protect him. "Your input is enough." If only he knew how the world would burn should he be harmed. "You're enough. I don't need a soldier by my side awaiting my next command." If only Madara knew how unconditionally and irrevocably in lo—

Without his mask, the raw emotions warred on his face. "All I need is you," Kakashi whispered. He blinked back the onslaught of tears.

Kakashi remembered the profound declaration in the Inuzuka community square. He knew he didn't have to shoulder the burden alone. The war veteran didn't want to bare its tremendous weight alone, but after shouldering it for years, he didn't know how to reach out for help. It was disgustingly easy making a promise and when push came to shove, Kakashi broke it.

Old habits die hard.

[ If you want to read more, refer here! ]
 
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SPACEWOLF
naruto x vld
canons only
keith x kakashi
roleplay post
855 words
[ excerpt from a crossover roleplay ]

"I do. That was amazing, what you did just there. You make a worthy opponent, Kakashi."

The aforementioned eighteen-year-old retracted his naginata. Once the runes engraved on the obsidian pole dimmed, Kakashi deactivated his weapon. As the plasmic blade vanished, he flicked his wrist and collapsed the pole. It shrunk to the size of a baton. Kakashi sheathed his weapon in the holster on his right thigh and offered his hand to Shiro. "Maa, maa, you're a lot stronger than me, Shiro-san. I have the bruises to prove it," he mused. Without warning, his left shoulder and hip absolutely throbbed. During the beginning of the impromptu spar, the older Paladin exploited an opening — it caught Kakashi off guard, but he wouldn't admit it — and threw him over the man's shoulders.

He accepted the palm and rose into a standing position. "Don't sell yourself short, Kakashi. You did good," Shiro replied. He rubbed his solar plexus. Despite the younger man's unassuming demeanor — a stark contrast to his abrasive visage when the Paladins first met the masked guardsman — and lissome frame, he had a vicious kick. It momentarily ripped the oxygen from his lungs.

Kakashi retracted his palm. "I—" All the sudden, a certain ravenette cut him off,

"So what other...things...can you do?"

Kogane Keith — or Keith Kogane according to English grammar — was the Red Paladin and second-in-command. His standoffish disposition and impulsiveness reminded him of his most troublesome student. "I—" Before he could respond, the Paladin continued his contemptuous tirade.

"How do we know we can really trust him?"

He rolled his aching shoulder. For a moment, Kakashi contemplated visiting the medical wing, but immediately banished the thought. Even if the technology was beyond his comprehension — his home world paled in comparison and medical ninjutsu defied the laws of physics — Hatake Kakashi loathed hospitals. "Maa, I don't see you sharing, Keith-san. Do you always demand a stranger's complete life story when you first meet?" he drawled.

Lance snickered, but immediately covered his mouth. Pidge elbowed him, evoking a hiss. "Hey—!"

"All we know about you, Kakashi, is your first name and your ability to wield fire and lightning with a Japanese weapon engineered by the Olkari," Pidge pointed out.

"Apparently, you can teleport too," Lance grumbled.

"Don't forget traps. I don't think I can ever look at a spider the same way again," Hunk shuddered. When the Paladins first landed on Olkarion and followed the coordinates in the distress signal, it led them to the forest. While the Paladins prepared for the worse, they didn't know what to expect. Despite their vigilance, a masked individual intercepting and imprisoning them in a paralyzing force field caught them off guard. All Hunk remembered were explosions — and a lot of running and screaming — and luminescent mechanical spiders. Kakashi herded the Paladins away from their Lions with multiple explosives and trapped them in a force field generated by an army of mechanical spiders.

It was simultaneously ingenious and terrifying. On the other hand, when Kakashi — in his masked glory and he wasn't referring to the younger man's fabric mask — confronted them with his naginata and threatened to kill them for endangering the Olkari, he didn't know what to think. Hunk respected the man's dedication as a guardsman, but dangerous explosives and mechanical spiders?

A bit overzealous if you asked him.

Kakashi heaved a sigh.

"Hey now, Kakashi doesn't have to immediately share—" The aforementioned man cut him off before Shiro could finish,

"Hatake Kakashi," the silverette began. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Or Kakashi Hatake, I guess." The English language was confusing and he was fluent in GCT, an even more befuddling tongue. Kakashi learned Olkarion, but he rarely utilized it outside the tribe. He glanced at the shortest Paladin and raised his free hand. "I don't require a conduit to manipulate the five basic elements." Without warning, his palm illuminated a brilliant violet. The electricity traveled up his arm and emitted a high-pitched screech, akin to a thousand birds chirping. Before the purple lightning encompassed his frame, Kakashi clenched his fist and banished the technique.

"Five? You can bend more than fire and lightning?" Pidge inquired doubtfully.

Instead of responding, Kakashi sliced his palm downward. "Water." He lifted his hand, revealing a bubble of water encompassing his palm. He tilted his hand and without warning, the water splashed on the floor. "Wind." Kakashi slapped his palms together, inhaled, and out of nowhere, a strong gust exuded from his masked lips. Before Pidge could react, it swept over her, eliciting an indignant squawk. While the technique wasn't powerful enough to knock her down, her hair resembled a wonderful rendition of a frazzled porcupine. "I would demonstrate Earth, but—" He gestured toward the floor. "—the alloy is bendable, but I don't think the princess would appreciate if I destroyed her training deck," Kakashi elaborated.

"Dude, we have the freaking Avatar on our team," Hunk breathed.

"Avatar?" the younger man parroted.

"You know, the Avatar! Commander of all four elements and symbol of—" Hunk trailed, noticing the pure and unadulterated bewilderment on the silver-haired man's face. "—uh, never mind."
 
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BLOOD MOON
teen wolf
canons & oc's
scott x oc
roleplay post
1062 words
[ excerpt from a fandom roleplay ]

"I like the new hair."

All the sudden, the door leading to the back room swung open. Ah, Joey Ferreira. When two of the three Musketeers arrived, the final Musketeer would inevitably follow. "Thanks," she replied flatly. The shorter female may be the third Musketeer, but Darci preferred Beacon Hills's smallest pixie stick. She may or may not have said it directly to the woman's face.

More than once — alright, all the time — without remorse. What can she say? Sophomore year — although, it returned with a vengeance during her summer break — was eventful.

"How long does this usually take?"

"Depends," Darci began. Once the taller brunette sat down and offered his left arm — after his consultation, Darci finalized his original design — she rolled up his sleeve and inspected his bicep. "One client took two hours. Every time I tried to complete the outline, he'd flinch." Darci retrieved a cotton ball, soaked it with rubbing alcohol, and cleansed the bicep. "Once I hit him over the head and told him to stop, everything went smoothly." She picked up a disposable razor, dampened the area, and shaved the fine hairs.

"You know, I'm not sure if you're joking or not," Stiles huffed.

"Do I look like I joke, Sparkles?"

"You look like a red she-devil from the pits of hell," the brunette deadpanned.

"Black Shuck," Darci corrected.

"I'm sorry, a hellhound from the pits of hell."

She tossed the temporary razor in a nearby trash bin and applied rubbing alcohol once more. "Hellhounds combust into flames, Sherlock. Black Shucks are immune to flames. There's a difference," the redhead pointed out.

"Wait, hellhounds are real?!"

Darci dampened the area with soap and water. "So are vampires," she quipped. She draped her stencil over her client's bicep and pressed the thermal-fax firmly on his skin. "Did you know your blood is lethal to vampires? All it takes is one drop and poof," she added nonchalantly, as if she were discussing the weather. "Although, it's more like a slow and agonizing death. Imagine a werewolf drinking liquefied wolfsbane or silver," she declared blithely.

"How do you know all this stuff?" Stiles demanded.

"New Orleans is one of the biggest supernatural hotspots in the country, Sparkles," Darci snarked. Once she peeled the thermal-fax away, a purplish-blue design temporarily imprinted on Scott's russet skin. "I was born and raised in the French Quarter. You learn a thing or two," she huffed. She tossed the stencil in the trash and prepped her tattoo gun.

"Did you, you know, ever dress like, you know—" Stiles pantomimed a wonderful, and horribly inaccurate, rendition of Dracula.

"Hard pass. Vampires hate shapeshifters," Darci pointed out. With her equipment prepared, the redhead applied ointment on the temporary design and positioned her gun on the outline. "The entire sub-culture was created solely for tourists and vamp candies," she huffed.

"Vamp candies?" Stiles parroted.

"Humans who donate their blood willingly. It's an entire fad in the Big Easy," Darci elaborated.

"I don't suppose there's any point in asking you to go easy on me, is there?"

Suddenly, the sclera of her eyes bled obsidian. Her sapphire irises flashed a luminescent crimson. As the illuminate color faded, a sharp-toothed smirk adorned her face. "Not a chance in hell, puppy. I'm sure a big bad wolf like you can handle a minor tattoo," Darci snarked.

"Is that why you hate hunters?" Stiles interjected. It was no secret Darci Calla loathed hunters. "Since the Big Easy is, well, an easy target?"

Her foot on the pedal halted. "Unless you want to be reunited with the rats, I suggest you shut your mouth," Darci replied.

"If you're from New Orleans, it—"

"Stiles," the she-wolf growled. The dark rumble in her throat was positively animalistic. "Drop it."

The aforementioned man raised his hands in surrender. "Easy, Black Swan. Message received," Stiles replied.

Instead of responding, Darci pressed her boot on the pedal. As her machine whirred to life, the needle punctured the first layers of skin. All the sudden, a loud thump resonated in the room. "Wimp," she muttered, not sparing the unconscious brunette — of course Stiles would faint at the sight of her tattoo gun — a glance.

Something about her current position felt bizarrely surreal. Three months ago, Darci would rather eat Stygian iron than associate with Scott McCall and his ragtag team of misfits. The baby werewolf was too soft; the Spark was too unpredictable; the half-siren was a wild card; the werewolf's precious hunter girlfriend (ex-girlfriend now) almost killed her best friends; and something about miss Queen Bee was off. At the end of sophomore year, Darci wished she never met Scott McCall and his pack.

A part of her also wished she never moved to Beacon Hills, but contrary to popular belief, Darci didn't have a choice.

If she left Beacon Hills, the Reimonenq would find her and finish what they started.

Perhaps, once upon a time — maybe even now — Scott McCall and his friends believed she was a monster. Last year, she joined Derek Hale. She acted as his second-in-command and enforcer. She conspired to kill an innocent woman. She almost murdered the daughter of a notorious hunter. Had it not been for her uncle — had he not intervene at the last second — she would have. Darci wasn't blind to her faults or her crimes and all things considered, the bitten Beta and his friends had every reason to distrust her.

Darci should regret what she did, but at the end of the day, she protected what (and who) she deemed hers.

When she first met Scott McCall, Darci was a simple college student volunteering at the animal clinic on her free weekends. She didn't interact with the brunette much, but as co-workers, they forged a professional, but amicable relationship. Darci knew he was a recently bitten werewolf, and she knew all about the drama revolving around Peter Hale, but instead of joining the Scooby Gang, she remained in the shadows. Unfortunately, once Derek Hale approached her friends, she was forced in the spotlight.

She never imagined Scott McCall and her would become friends, but here she was, administrating his first tattoo.

Regardless of the new development, Darci still won't reveal the secret to werewolf tattoos. She taught him werewolf 101; Scott should know better.
 
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