#writing wips

Early in the story, Prowl reveals to the Repair Crew that he's half-Beastformer. (Due to the rampant prejudice among Autobots, he's extremely anxious and drags the confession out as long as possible before specifying that he's half-*Predacon*.) I'm gonna be working in a lot of important worldbuilding details during this part as well. This whole scene/chapter is SUPER important, and I think it's undergone more drafts/revisions than anything else so far.

Here's a small, rough-screenplay snippet of the team initially being super accepting and curious about Prowl's heritage (featuring @adventuretolkienlover's fullbody design of him with his Predacon traits!):

OP: "Alright Prowl, what do you need to tell us?"

Prowl: "The reason I know so much about the other side of Cybertron. I didn't just visit it as a youngling. I was born there, during the last phase of the war."

Bee: "How were you born on the other side of Cybertron?!"

OP: (to Bee) "A lot of Automatons fled to the Maximals' territory during the war - Autobot and Destron." (to Prowl) "Was your carrier one of them?"

Prowl: "My mother wasn't a refugee, but it's possible my father was."

Bulk: "Hang on a second. If your mom wasn't a refugee, doesn't that mean-"

Prowl: "She was a Beastformer. And my father was an Autobot."

(Stunned/confused silence)

Bulk: (Shouting triumphantly) "I KNEW IT! I knew you were a Beastformer!"

Ratchet: "That's impossible! There hasn't been any record of an Autobot and a Maximal successfully creating a protoform together since the Purge! Nobody knows if our CNA is even compatible!"

Bulk: "That's not true; one of my best friends from the energon farms is half-Maximal and half-Autobot!"

Ratchet: (gob-smacked) "And nobody thought to inform the Science Guild of that?!"

Bulk: (dismissively) "There's plenty of multi-faction bots in the farming community. Nobody thinks of it as some big phenomenon that needs to be reported to the Science Guild."

Bee: "How did you clock Prowl as multi-factional? He looks like any other cycle bot!"

Prowl: "I'm also curious how you figured that out."

Bulk: (shrugging) "I mean, it wasn't anything specific at first. You've just got a really similar vibe to my Maximal buddies, especially Ravage. And after we crashed on earth you got kinda' obssessed with organic nature, and then you were the first one to realize that the Dinobots had sparks - I figured you were at least a smidge Beastformer. Thought you might not even be aware of it yourself. But I was afraid you'd get upset and clam up if I ever tried to ask you about it."

Prowl: "And...you never shared your suspicions with anyone else?"

Bulk: "Of course not! It was nonea' my business anyway, and it's not like you were a threat to anyone."

OP: (nods approvingly) "That was very wise and respectful of you, Bulkhead."

Ratchet: (crossing his arms, skeptical) "And I don't suppose you have any proof to back up this claim of yours?"

Prowl: "I do. But I need everyone here to promise that you won't reveal the truth of my identity to anyone before I show you."

OP: (looks around at everyone, then nods at Prowl) (assuringly) "You have our word."

Prowl: (stands up, unlatches boots, and steps out of them to reveal a pair of digitigrade pedes; each one touches the ground with 3 large toes, and both of his heels are suspended several inches in the air, )

Sari: (excited) "No way; you've had cat paws this whole time?!"

Prowl: (grinning slightly) "I suppose they are quite similar to the feet of earth felines, aren't they?"

Ratchet: (amazed) "How is that possible...?"

Bee: "Wait a nanoklick-" (points at Prowl's feet) "Is that why you wear heels?"

Prowl: (shrugs) "More or less."

Bulk: (holding his chin guard thoughtfully) "Explains why you're so good at doing ninja stuff on your toes."

Sari: (excited) "What other cool stuff have you been hiding from us?"

Prowl: (slightly awkward/nervous) "Well, I, have a small number of biolights."

Sari: "Is that a different thing from your head and tail lights?"

Prowl: (nods) "Quite different."

Sari: "Can you show us?"

Prowl: (surprised, even more awkward) "I...They're not functional - more like a decorative label for some of the nerves along my spinal strut."

Bulk: "Labels have a function. And they're more fun when they're decorative!"

Bee: "And you've got the slickest paint job on this whole crew! You're not embarrassed about some pretty, glowing spots are you?"

OP: "You don't have to show us if it makes you uncomfortable, Prowl." (giving Bumblebee a stern, sidelong look) "That's the opposite of what we're trying to do here."

Sari: "Why is it a big deal if they're 'not functional'?" (making airquotes)

Prowl: "Here on Cybertron, the Autobot faction prioritizes functional capacity over all else. Any form of beauty that can be admired, but not used in some meaningful way, is heavily discouraged."

OP: "Well, I've seen several examples of beauty for beauty's sake on earth, and I think Cybertron could definitely use more of that."

Prowl: (thinks for a moment) (hesitantly) "Jazz, would you mind...removing my kibble? Just for a moment?"

Jazz: (stepping forward with a soft smile) "Sure thing; turn around for me."

(Prowl turns his back to the group; Jazz gently unlatches his kibble and lifts it off his back, then steps aside)

(Sari, Bee, and Bulkhead let out a chorus of 'Oooooh!'s)

Sari: "They do look pretty! And cool!"

Ratchet: (crossing his arms) "Now how does that work?"

Prowl: (looking over one shoulder at him) "They're just bioluminescent sections of my pseudo-skin."

Ratchet: (holding his chin thoughtfully) "Pseudo-skin, ey? That would explain a few things..."

Bee: "What's a 'pseudo-skin'?"

Bulk: "Oh, I remember my Maximal buddies talking about that! It helps you transform properly, right Prowl?"

Prowl: (nodding as he turns to face the group) "That is correct. Beast modes are much more organically-shaped than vehicle modes. Pseudo-skin ensures that all of one's armor can rearrange smoothly and securely, while allowing their protomatter to change size or shape."

Sari: "Do you have a beast mode?"

Prowl: "No. I was only programmed with vehicle and bot modes, like my father. I, don't have any actual use for pseudo-skin."

Sari: "Well, it's still cool that you have it! It sounds like it works the way human skin does."

Bee: "Why are your spots green?"

Prowl: (shrugs and starts rubbing the back of his neck)(nervous, but attempting to sound indifferent) "Probably just to match my optics."

Bee: "Your optics are green too?!"

Prowl: (crossing his arms and straightening himself indignantly) "It's a very common optic-color among Beastformers! During the war, however..." (looks away slightly, reaching up to touch the edge of his visor) "It, would've gotten me into trouble."

Sari: (confused and concerned) "What kind of trouble?"

Ratchet: "The Maximals remained neutral during the war, but the Predacons allied themselves with Megatron. The Autobots who didn't become refugees developed hostility and suspicion towards anybot with Beastformer traits." (shaking his helm sadly) "Back then, even younglings with the 'wrong' optic color were arrested and subjected to violence...often without getting a chance to confirm their heritage. Sadly, a lot of that prejudice stuck around after the war ended."

thank you @josephseedismyfather 🥰 maybe this will drag me from my slump, one can hope.

rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. tag as many people as you have wips. people can send an ask with the title(s) that most intrigue them, then you post a snippet or tell them about it!

Writing

1. I Hate You, You Selfish Writheworm

2. Once Upon a Stupid Bitch

3. RD Board

4. Blunt the Knives

5. Surmounted Belaboring

Art

1. fee + kee

2. and then they kith

3. skjermbilde024434

4. dana20

5. were going loud anyways

6. da bois

7. wrought

8. 3am's

I was tagged by @epiphany-jones @bigshrimp365 and @grad-writes <3

I was digging through my wips and was immediately enraptured by the first Zevran fic I started like.... two months ago, because I finally played Origins and LAWD someone let me yap PLEASE

Thanks for the tag, @serialsforbellara!

Instructions: Go through your WIP folder and find something unfinished to share! It could be something you’re not planning on working on again, or something you’ll continue later, but share whatever you have!

I don't generally maintain too many WIPs at a time, mostly to keep me from starting things and then abandoning them for the next shiny thing, and all 2.5 of my active WIPs are active, not abandoned or back-burnered, but I can still share something from one of them.

(No shade to anyone who does keep a lot of WIPs or regularly jumps from project to project, btw; this is entirely me managing myself.)

I've shared a bunch of Dragon Age stuff lately, so let's shift gears a little and instead show off part of my Sonic 2 novelization instead. This is the beginning of chapter 1, so the stuff meant to hook the reader in.

A star fell from the sky early in the morning of the last day of August.

Miles crouched beneath the sheltering branches of a scraggly bush and watched the bright streak of light as it cut across the star-dusted sky. Brief. Just a wink of blue-green and white, there and gone like a single heartbeat. He was lucky to have seen it.

Not a star, his dad said. Space debris burning up on contact with the atmosphere.

Make a wish, his mom murmured.

Miles flicked his ears at the voices and ignored them as he padded into the village.

His breath fogged out in front of his muzzle. The crisp air at the tail-end of winter nipped at the tips of his ears and his bare little fingers. He tried to tuck them into the ends of his tattered scarf, but his claws caught on the frayed threads, and he muttered something he’d heard some of the village adults say as he disentangled his hands again.

He needed to find food. There was no time for wishes or stargazing.

A wish lodged itself traitorously behind his ribs regardless, clinging to his soul like a burr. Tiny, half-formed, given weight by the innocence he’d thought long-beaten out of him. He didn’t name it. To put words to the wish would give it too much form, a shape that would stay and grow and sink in claws and teeth, and ultimately tear another hole in him. He didn’t know if he could survive it again. When did the empty spaces become too much to hold together?

But like a bird aloft too long, he wanted a soft place to land, and that idea wouldn’t wiggle loose no matter how hard he shook his head.

Stars can’t grant wishes, he reminded himself harshly, and it wasn’t a real star anyway.

cw for blood, mentions of death, smoking, implied abuse, you get the picture etc etc

★ . WIP (I) —

There was always Renfield Lagoon. You could always duck under that sweet, wet moss and breathe in with the frogs and fishes for a cloudy little second. Or scale a drooped oak by the bank and rest upon it's cool branches. Or sit jeans-deep in the swelling waters.

You could get killed, too.

That was , if he were being honest , only something he had realised. A shard buried in mud so old it had crackled up. It was the sort of blood that splattered right behind you; the one you never saw.

He'd smelled it.

One sticky June's morning, when the clouds still blushed and the wind was only sweet , he'd snaked up to the roof. The ciggerate was wet, pale, and *too old* . Smoke rose around his tongue like Novocaine....and then popped out of existence as though it had never existed. His eyes fluttered. It was still early...

★. WIP 2;

"I've seen many dead people,"

The nurse's hands twist the gauze around my neck, as she says this.

"— But none half as dead as you."

She tightens the fabric. The blood still seeps; hot and sweet . It's running down my throat, all way to my bruised ribs. I know that Mom won't be happy to see the shirt so red... not when she washed it this morning.

it's not my fault.

It doesn't change anything.