Wint || commissions open

For December 2024 OPEN

For the newer clients, take note that if I know the fandom, there will be  no charge. I’ll be listing the fandoms I know so far, but if you don’t see them in the list, you can dm me to check since I can’t keep track of everything I know.

Example of my works:

Serendipity in the Wind (genshin impact)

Keeper of the Lost (prompt)

Thawed Snow part 2 nsfw (genshin impact)

The Point of No Return commissioned (sky: cotl)

and other works

Fandoms:

Sky: cotl (game)

Genshin Impact (game)

Valorant (game)

The owl house

RWBY

Star vs the forces of evil

Gravity falls

Descendants

Miraculous ladybug

MLP: FIM

She-ra and the princess of power

Avatar: TLA

How to train your dragon

The Dragon Prince

Ever After High

Anime, manga, & manhwas (there are a lot so please proceed to dm me to check if I know what it is)

Open to any kinds of shipping as long as it does not go against the *(Will NOT do) section. I look forward to working with you!

Blood curled on fine serpentine silvers. A crown worn with thorns is a crown guilty with crimes. Yet the wearer bore not an ounce of it. Even if the fine wine of life stained her hems, her lips adorn a smile.

The impenitent glint in her eyes shone in the dark lit room where they sentenced her, saying all was rightfully deserved. For the crimes she committed, and for the acts they conspired against her. Each and everyone of them... were just no better than her.

No words had to be said as the court stared down at her yet-still poised stature. Yet the king asked her, "What do you plea?"

'Plea?' It was none other than formality. Because they are as well as damned that she was guilty of treason. 'When does a queen ever plead?'

She only met his belittling eyes in silence. The defendant's floor was meant to make her small, yet she raised her head in regal poise.

"Burn the witch!" The people of the kingdom chanted in fury.

And so she did.

With a pinch of love,

and a cup of water,

Does pink ivory satin bloom

A dash of warm light,

In an ambient room

Filled with laughter and smiles

Does it do its little dances

Where it was carefully tended

When do flower petals fall

With a handful of soda

And a paste-filled hate,

So bitter

It boils and sizzles

Does make washed-colours fall

Its silky sheets

No longer sheen,

In a place where sun

No more leans

To a room void of warmth

This has been in my wip for long enough

I always dreamt of blue skies and a garden. Roses that bloomed on perfectly trimmed bushes. And a gazebo that sits at the very heart.

I was like a princess, sipping tea and eating cake all the time. Pampered and love. Just like my real life.

I never lacked anything.

It was every little girl's dream.

But as I grew older, it comes along life with a few shifts. My parents were rarely home. I have no friends in school. And my only considered company where the maids. But they were very much like mannequins, only doing as what they are told.

And when they say fantasy is better than reality, it was my desperate prayer. To my garden where red roses grow. Where crystal blue skies bring me peace. And where I never go without company, where there was always someone beside me.

He serves me. Always catering every of my whims.

But I don't know him. Not his name--not his face. He was just a boy in a suit to me. And I only call him "butler".

Do you wish your scene feels like this? (the following piece is really important and heavily mentioned to the tips down below but you can skip cause I'll provide specific lines anyway)

"He hated him because he was still hung up over the past. He hated that he changed. He hated that he could no longer despise the boy like he used to for what he did to him.  

Those were the reasons he hated admitting. Because it made him sound petty. And he hated to admit that it affected him more than it should have, that the boy had power over his emotions, over his thoughts, over his feelings.   

He feels vulnerably offered.  

It makes him feel weak.  

He’s weak.  

For a deity, how unacceptable. How pathetic.  

But still, no matter, all the times he spent with him in that little space they made themselves comfortable, no matter how brief, it made him forget about the duties that await him in his pyramid.  

He made him feel normal. 

He was offered cooked meals. He scolded him for offering Collei bland palate. He made him do stuff, with disregards of his status, whenever he chanced upon it. He, for once, felt what it's like to have a home .

And he hated that he could no longer despise him for what he did. Because he unintentionally gave him the things he craved for—normalcy." -Ephemeral Twilight

I was asked before how to make your writing gut-wrenching. And I was left stumped, because I've never really thought of it before. I just let my fingers do the typing. But I gotta help this person somehow, so in doing so, I came up with advices I think might help in order to write in the style you so perfectly desire: (I am by no means expert, but let me know if some of this helped you in starting to write it)

Adding correlation - as someone who describes the environment a lot, I fall too often into descriptive writing -- going too much into detail on the background setting. Fortunately, there's a work around that I found in order for some of your writing to not go to waste: adding correlation. For example: The sun was scorching. It burned his feet as he treaded along the vast empty dunes, cursing it with the same tongue that used to sing praises of its glory. Adding correlation from the background to your character is the first step of breaking the ice of stagnant writing (mostly when you find yourself having nothing to say in the first few paragraphs). You're creating a framework of what goes on in your character's head (which is vital if you want to affect readers through your character's thoughts) while setting the scene to your readers. It also acts like a build up. Another example: The wind bites her skin yet it was numb compared to her heart thrown and left frozen in the winter storm.

Reading emotional materials - by reading any material that conveys the emotion you wanted to write, you're setting yourself in the perfect headspace to imagine and create the scene. As corny as it sounds, you need to feel it. How do you think actors were able to portray their character's emotions so well if not for feeling and experiencing it themselves? It won't work if you're experiencing an emotion contradicting to the emotion you want to portray. So yes, exposing yourself to any media that has conveys the exact vibe you want is a good way.

Repetition - repetition emphasizes. It creates desperation -- "longingness" of something what could have been; of what they truly wanted or what they truly despised. It gives you the opportunity to play around why they specifically felt that way, all the reasons to say, all of the things to convince your reader to feel the same way. Take for example the piece above: "He feels vulnerably offered. || It makes him feel weak. || He’s weak. || For a deity, how unacceptable. How pathetic." To this character, being seen as vulnerable is the worst type of thing, which also stays true to most people. People don't like being seen as weak. It emphasizes it. It's the thing he hated the most because his ego (something related to an emotional-aspect) cannot afford him to. And another example is the obvious, almost gagging (don't cancel me, I wrote the piece lol), repetition of hate: "He hated him because he was still hung up over the past. He hated that he changed. He hated that he could no longer despise the boy like he used to for what he did to him. || Those were the reasons he hated admitting. Because it made him sound petty. And he hated to admit that it affected him more than it should have, that the boy had power over his emotions, over his thoughts, over his feelings. || And he hated that he could no longer despise him for what he did."  Additionally a special mention: "...that the boy had power over his emotions, over his thoughts, over his feelings..." over, over, over... This is also a repetition itself, or what at least I consider it to be. It still creates that emphasis you want to go for.

Contradiction - contradiction and repetition can go hand in hand for a more effective impact. Because in our examples previously mentioned such as "He feels vulnerably offered. || It makes him feel weak. || He’s weak. || For a deity, how unacceptable. How pathetic." this was contradicted because even though he hated to show vulnerability and weakness, it happened. The thing he hated the most happened. And this: "He hated him because he was still hung up over the past. He hated that he changed. He hated that he could no longer despise the boy like he used to for what he did to him. || Those were the reasons he hated admitting." He hated admitting but still ended up admitting it. It's the psychology play of after making your reader believe about one thing, then you crush it at the end -- because it's the same for your character. They believed this thing for so long that they repeatedly told themselves, convinced themselves, gaslit themselves, only for it to tumble down to realization that that belief was wrong. The character's contradiction of their own convictions.

#ending may contain trigger warnings #venting-type of writing

--

This morning I prayed.

I dreaded—reflected, then breathed. Today was the planned trip. The trip my friends and I had talked about for a month. They were excited, so I was... was.

After those awful summer classes, I finally had the time to unwind before third-year starts. Three days. That was our only break before suffering again for the next four months in one semester.

I was looking forward to it, because I knew college isn't going to get any better.

So I prayed this morning. I prayed that there will be no problem with my schedule.

I was excited. So I told my mom.

She stopped in her tracks. She said she has a meeting on saturday—the day when we're supposed to leave. And dad, he's off to another city to take care of our other business. That means, no one is left to take care of my siblings except for me—the eldest.

While my two siblings can take care of themselves—with the elder one being a sixth-grader, and the other one being two years behind her—the youngest, who was also the troublemaker, had only entered elementary.

It should have been fine that the youngest will be taken by my mom to her meeting while the two will be left at home. But with our reviving businesses, that proves to be impossible.

The location they picked was not a peaceful street. On some days, you'd be able to watch a drama for free with people drunk fighting. Of course, some of the kids were also bullies. And my siblings, being the kids raised by conforming Christian parents, they were very much a reflection of that.

The baseline was: I can't leave them alone.

Fortunately, mom said her meeting finishes at 3 so she'd be back by then and I'll be free to go. I have no problem with that.

I prayed this morning. I prayed that our way there would be fine.

I have two friends going with me to the other city, with the rest of the lot being there already. Problem was: yesterday, one of them told me that the other said he wants to meet up at the terminal by 5 in the afternoon. That one friend, being the absolute sweetheart that he is, told him I had classes that day. Cause our damn professor called us in for an early start.

So then the guy wants to go at four am the very next day. Like man, okay. I guess I won't be riding with them.

But the other one, being the sweetheart that he is, said that he can ride with me on the way there. He can ditch our friend, as long as that increases the chance of me going to our trip.

But that night, I told him to just go with our friend. I'll be fine.

I prayed this morning. I prayed that I wanted to come.

But that night prior, my mom called. It was about the trip. She promised to go home early so I can catch up to the others. But I cried.

I was stressed. I was tired. I had no energy. I couldn't think about all of these factors— about all the things that affected the perfect-planned trip. I suddenly didn't wanna go.

I wanted to save money. I wanted to save energy. But then I thought of all my friends who were there. This is one of the only chances we'll be complete. Some of us go to different college states. It was a hard chance to come by. Think about all of the things I will miss out—

I don't want to go. Think about all the money spent during the time they came back here in this city. I could have saved that up and I would had money in my hands like I used to be.

I cried that night to my mom. She got mad, thinking that even though I could have gone in the afternoon, I wanted to go in the morning with my friends. No one would be left to take care of my siblings.

No. It wasn't like that. I— I don't know! I don't know anymore! Just please, shut up, shut up shut up shutup shutupshutup. SHUT UP!

It was me.

Me alone.

In my room.

Tears silently rolling down as I lay supine, gazing to the white ceiling.

Mom already hung up.

But amidst all the sermons she told me, I only said, "I'm not going anymore."

I prayed this morning. To wish it all go well, that I wish to still go, but at the same time, too tired to think, too stressed to decide.

It was like deciding on my college dorm all over again. The reason why I decided to just go back to my own city and enrol in a university there.

It was one of the decisions I've regretted.

I went to our other house to take care of my siblings. All the while wishing that I could go. Praying that my mom does come home at three and that she'd told me I could go.

I prayed.

The kids were playing cracked minecraft on our pisonet. So they were rowdy. That was fine, because they quiet down soon.

My younger sister took care of selling in our mini-store while I watch them. She handed a change to this one guy who bought liquor, but then he started yelling.

I went in-between and asked what's the matter. He told me stuff that doesn't make sense. It was fine. Things like these happens sometimes. It was a tactic I was well aware when we used to have this same business back then.

I reasoned with them.

But something popped. And the next thing I knew, there was a sharp pain on my side.

It was a knife, stabbed to me. I only saw red. I was not one to go down without a fight.

The guy was drunk. So his reaction was slow, seeing the same knife hurling towards his face. He went down as easily.

I only gave a hard stare, clutching my bloodied hands. I could feel my breaths shorten. I was anemic, so this way to go wasn't somehow out of my imagination. Because this morning, I prayed.

Why?

They sat up, dazed.

The sky is painted of brilliant blue, a perfect canvas to gaze at. And something they wished they could have stared longer if it weren't for the dark blanket of clouds emitting murky green hues.

It's been so long since they've seen the sky in its full glory. With the fall of all the solarians, the dawn of the new era begun. The moon has taken its rightful claim of the sky and the eclipse has bathed the world in the shadow of darkness.

It is their time...their time...ours. But Pandi would rather stay here.

They opened their eyes, the back of their hand resting on their forehead. It felt heavy.

They rubbed their face in hopes to fully wake their half-asleep state as they groggily sat upright. The old hard wood below them creaked under their weight, but it's not going to collapse that easily so they're confident enough that to say they're safe.

The silent void except for the whistle of the wind drifting past to the East were the only echoes in this place.

It's desolated. Forgotten. A forgotten ark.

Something's...not right. Pandi reached up to their face to feel it completely bare. They instantly scoured the surface around them. Surely it won't be that far.

Sighing a breath of relief upon scoring on the half-broken mask just near on where she rested her head, their lips fined to a thin line as they picked it up delicately. Their white pupils tracing the faint scratches inflicted due to the roughness of their activities.

Their thumb grazed the sides, feeling its familiar shape they’d always known for years, even before they were like this. They closed their eyes and they brought it to their face.

“Honey.” A smile graced the woman’s lips.

Pandi momentarily froze. Their eyes widened in shock at the sudden flash of memory. Why?

They breathed heavily. Their hand reached to grab their face and one to their chest, letting out a sigh of annoyance after.

The loud rhythmic beating of their heart… they felt a pain shot right through. Their whole body paralyzed when they reached to grab *his* hand.

Pandi fell to their knees, they can no longer feel anything except for excruciating pain. Their eyes wide open, but can’t see. Their chest constricted making it harder for them to breathe. ‘It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.’

Their body dropped to the ground, hands strangling their neck. Their vision swarmed by black dots. They were deprived with oxygen. Air! Air! They needed it!

Death is better than this.

Death is so much better…

The last thing they saw…was a man’s face, peering down at their pathetic state. Then he left.

Pandi deeply inhaled, gripping their forearm. Their nails impaling their skin deep that it bled to snap their self back to reality, reassuring their self. It won’t happen again. But, they can’t seem to keep it off their mind.

Why?

That question again.

Why?

It was to protect them.

Why?

To protect…

Why?

They love them…

Why?

Why did they leave…?

They wanted to stay. They didn’t want to leave them behind…so why?

“Why?” they felt cold fingertips brushing their cheeks.

Pandi opened their eyes. And saw her.

She’s here. Everything else is black, but all they want is her being here.

But why? Why are there tears? Her red rubies were supposed to glimmer like always. But all they could see were two bloody pools of red.

It was filled with despair and…hurt.

Why?

“Pandi…” she whispered.

She wanted to scream, to shout, to thrash out. But it ended as a strain in her voice as she forced the words out of her lips.

“Why did you join them?”

She stared long at their eyes. They were no longer once the eyes filled with lush emotions. Joy, excitement, contentment, love—gone.

Pandi’s tears fell.

--

She bolted upright, gasping. Beads of sweat trailed down her cheek, as well as…tears.

“It’s been so long,” she mumbled.

Listening to the new genshin ep got me writing, especially that one melody huhu it reminded me of that moment again (spoilers for those who haven't done 4.2 Archon quest)

--

"Farewell, Neuvillette. I hope you've enjoyed the part you played these five hundred years."

A mournful goodbye, yet softly uttered with satisfaction. By a calm, resolute voice, matured by divinity, yet said by an all-too familiar face with the same capturing smile.

And bow she did--an ending to this opera they shared, to the people she served, to the nation she saved. And to him, who has witnessed it all. Their sole long-standing audience.

A ball stuck in his throat, he couldn't utter a word.

Only a reaching hand in desperation as the melodies end in grandiose. And so is their act.

Furina--! He woke up, heaving in sweat.

The light in your darkest day

The symphony in a melody that has gone astray

The peaceful bliss within the sounds of rain

The lovely words that paints me you simply cannot contain

You were perfect

But when I opened my eyes, it seem

I realized