Moxie Writes - Tumblr Posts
A new chapter of my Bungou Stray Dogs x Genshin crossover fanfic is up now! I'll be putting updates for my AO3 fics here too, so watch out for that!
Also, here's a little bit of art for this AU, feat. Thoma as Atsushi, Kazuha as Dazai, and Kujou Sara as Kunikida!
a piece for my miraculous x bungou stray dogs crossover series, wherein dazai and chuuya go undercover at françoise dupont as marc and nathaniel! (i kinda got lazy with the background, but whatever...)
hey uhh... I wrote the crossover fic! only the first chapter's up now, bc the new owl house ep totally destroyed me & my motivation, but I'll try to get the others out soon!
the beach
A short story/poem I wrote for English class.
The sunlight off the sand is blinding no matter which way you peer, the tiny glass particles catching the golden beams and flinging them every which way. You turn to the sea instead, hoping her cool waters will provide a reprieve, but she, too, is enraptured by the sun’s merciless light, white flashes glinting off the cresting waves as far back as the horizon in uneven stripes, drawing to mind the lines and swirls in a half-mixed lump of paints.
The repetitive swoosh-crash of the waves attempt to lull you to sleep, the foaming water reaching desperately for the shoreline before being pulled back, resisting, into the deep blue-green depths. Another wave crests, and the cycle repeats anew, the sea throwing her grasping hands onto the sand, clinging to anything she can and dragging it down with her.
You watch this show and know in your heart that if you were to go down there, the sea would grab you too, pulling you into her gaping maw, down down down past sea-foam teeth and a lashing tongue, for while the sea may not be malicious, nor does she care for you.
Over your head, an airplane sputters by, a rippling flag ordained with bright colors trailing behind it like the tail of a decorative bird. It circles the beach like a vulture, the cheerful advertisements preying on those below with promises and pleas - you need this! - call this number now! - we can help!
A few sea-birds, voices loud and attitudes louder, circle in to land beside an abandoned towel, and they pick through the sand for scraps with the keen eyes of hunters. One of them makes a discovery, a half-eaten sandwich buried in the sand, and attempts to make off with its treasure. You watch as the other gulls surround the lucky one, snapping and biting at its prize. Soon enough, the meal is stolen, and just as quickly the birds turn on the victor instead, a vicious cycle that lasts until there is nothing left of the sandwich at all.
To your right, a group of children play in the sand, digging a crumbly hole deeper and deeper, past the scalding layer of dry sand into the cool, dark, layer below, burying themselves like sand-crabs waiting for night. You wonder whether this is all that remains of an animalistic instinct now long-gone, the echoes of desert creatures hiding from the sun and heat.
Not far behind you, a lifeguard tower creaks in the wind, a wooden monument to those who dare to grab back from the sea’s grasping fingers. The sky-blue paint that coats the wooden planks is chipping, peeling in some places and faded in others, and you wonder how long it has been since it got a fresh coat.
Beneath you, your scratchy towel shifts on the sandy ground, and you are reminded that the beach you lie upon is nothing more than thousands and thousands of pounds of tiny rocks, microscopic grains held together only by pressure and moisture and sheer determination. You realize that if the sea does not claim you, the earth surely will, for she could open up right now and swallow you whole.
You curl up smaller on your towel, hunching into the fluttering shadows provided by your flimsy umbrella, the only barrier between you and the relentless, gleaming sun. You begin to feel drowsy, the cool shade and the sea’s lullaby stealing away at your conscious mind, sleep’s gentle fingers seeming more and more appealing as your eyelids grow heavy. You hope only that when you wake, you are still safe under the umbrella’s protection.
I don't think I ever posted this here? a few aged-up designs for a fic series I started writing (I swear I'll finish it once I get out of the hell that is writer's block, i swear)
(this is a repost from MY deviantart account, i did not steal this)
Design notes below the cut:
Timmie is inspired mainly by this absolutely amazing piece of art I saw, please give the creator some love! I think an Anemo vision fits him best, and his bow is a modified Raven Bow.
Chloris is a combination of her outfit and a bit of Vanessa's, and she (obviously) has a Dendro vision and a modified Prototype Archaic.
Ruu is his current outfit with a longer design inspired by Inazuma's shrine maidens, with a puple ghostly tinge, and he's Electro with the Thunderbird feather as a catalyst.
Finally, Teucer is a modified Geochanter Bracer outfit with hints of his original design, and a modified Crescent Pike with a Chaos Core design.
sitting in my pottery class thinking about that post about feeling the fingerprints in ancient pottery and wondering. in thousands of years, will archeologists dig up our clay and pottery to put in museums and marvel at? the lopsided clay animals of elementary-school children, the mass-produced creations carefully painted at birthday parties and paint-your-own-pottery shops, the delicate creations from skilled workers who spent years and years at the wheel? will they run their fingers over the clay, many years in the future, feeling the fingerprints in a second-grader’s pinch pot, lopsided and brightly-colored and excitedly presented to parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles, displayed proudly on the fireplace mantle? will they trace the grooves in an elegant pot, crafted carefully by someone whose first love was the way the ceramic molded under their fingers, sold and gifted to someone who keeps it as a family heirloom, cradling the gentle stems of hundreds of flowers over the years? will they inspect the progression of color in a set of complicated, machine-molded tchotchkes, changing over the years from a child’s expression of their favorite colors to an artist carefully painting in the lines, displayed in a bedroom, kept dusty on a shelf and admired from a distance? will these future people feel the same way we do now, fitting their hands where ours once were, realizing that oh, these were people too, who lived and loved and created just for the sake of it? maybe, just like we aren’t so different from those who came before us, those who will come after us won’t be so different either. we’re all human, after all.
well here it is! no idea when the next chapter will be out, and I'm pretty sure all of the EAH characters are at least mildly OOC, but at least Epel is going to have a great time! (he's going to punch at least one person by the time this fic is over)
turns out I can in fact (temporarily) get over my writers block - which is so bad I may as well call it a writers wall - with the power of Extremely Nonsensical Crossovers that have no content and are so brainrotty that I must write them Immediately. so uh hopefully the first chapter of yet another one of my nonsense crossover WIPs will be up tomorrow.
teehee! guess who dug herself out of writer’s block ever so briefly to write an au fic for a fandom I’ve never written for before instead of continuing one of my 20 wips…
um. asl seraphim au fic, anyone?
Deep in the heart of a forgotten government laboratory, three brothers make a life for themselves in a run-down scrapyard. (Or: No matter what, the bonds of brotherhood can never be broken.)
this one's for the 5 other Fischl fans out there 🫡
As both sides unleashed their might in a war where there could be no victors, it was not only the lands of the gods that fell under siege by the dreamers’ war machines. All-seeing Celestia, seeing an opportunity to be rid of unpredictable magics it could not control, quietly turned a blind eye to much of the destruction.