writingwithrxd

[writingwithrxd]

I open my wallet and all that flutters out is a moth and a few unfinished wips. Dinner is NOT on me

[writingwithrxd]

⏾Rxd’s Writing Blog⏾

Welcome to my writing blog! A collection of my madman ramblings, occasional snippets/quotations from my work, and just general discussion around writing/relatable writing things. I love following writers and other writing blogs because writers are sick. Always looking for mutuals :). You guys are so awesome! 

ABOUT ME! ☁︎.˚Who am I?~ Rxd/Luna ☁︎.˚Pronouns?~ She/They/Any (No real preference)  ★Sapphic/AroSpec/AceSpec★☽Musician/Writer/Artist☽ ꨄ︎Takenꨄ︎ ✦Not so casual enjoyer of Greek Mythology, D&D, Comic Books, Musical Theatre, Classic Literature, Classical Music, History, The Moon, Video Essays, Homer, Shakespeare, Unavoidable Doom, and a million other hyperfixations✦ ☆Please don't ask me for money in any capacity. I am literally broke as hell☆

ABOUT MY WRITING! ☁︎.˚What are my genres?~ Mainly literary fiction, but I’ve been exploring other genres as well!

☁︎.˚How long have I been creatively writing?~ Since I can remember (the children long to write Undertale Fanfiction), but probably since around 3rd Grade (~10 years). 

☁︎.˚Greatest inspiration style wise?~ Most of my prose is heavily inspired by the works of Madeline Miller and Donna Tartt, with a sprinkling in of various other sources I've enjoyed over the years (I love me some Homeric epithets), and also just my own general flair.

☁︎.˚Writing goals?~ My ultimate goal is to seek eventual traditional publishing, with hopes of finishing my debut novel sometime in the next 2-3 years!

CURRENT PROJECTS!

ᝰProject O.W.W (Debut Novel):15k Words | Greek Mythology Adaptation | Main Project | ⤷>Fixed First Person POV ⤷>Set in Crete during the Bronze Age (with a backdrop of mixed Minoan and Mycenaean culture) ⤷>A heavy importance placed on the original structure, story beats, and characters (not a reinventing or drastic changing of a myth, just a new exploration of it) ⤷>Focused on themes of freedom, longing, maturing, and the relationship between parent and child

ᝰProject Supers (Comic Series): It's complicated amount of words | Superhero | Long-term Project | ⤷>Based on golden age and modern comic book tropes (mainly from DC and Invincible) ⤷>I'm hoping to eventually turn it into a comic series ⤷>4 MCs, each inspired by different comic book character tropes ⤷>Focused on themes of war, responsibility that comes with power, and the overall difficulty of balancing life as a superhero

ᝰProject ??? (Novel?): 1k Words | Dark Academia, Psychological Fiction/Thriller | Brainstorming/Backburner | ⤷>Fixed 3rd Person POV ⤷>Currently lurking around in the back of my mind, inspired strongly by The Secret History by Donna Tartt and If We Were Villains by M.L. Rio ⤷>Dark Academia college setting, centered on the classical music world ⤷>Focused on themes of obsession, the lengths artists will go for perfection, and jealousy

+A million other projects constantly lurking around in the back of my concious :,)

Thanks for hanging out and sticking around! [Below: Masterlist]

MASTERLIST!

SNIPPETS! ⏾Loyal! Hero X Disloyal! Villain ↳{M/NB | 520 Words | 7-6-25}

⏾Destructive! Hero X Destructive! Villain ↳{M/M | 755 Words | 7-22-25}

[writingwithrxd]

Destructive! Hero X Destructive! Villain

{M/M | 755 Words | 7-22-25}

The Hero never meant to destroy anything. His destruction wasn’t born from malicious intent or a love of watching things crash and burn. He didn’t like the look of cracked concrete. He didn’t like the crunch of shattered glass. It was just…a byproduct. A consequence. A natural outcome that came with what he did. Saving people. Saving lives. 

The Villain loved destroying things. Willingly, openly, with a gleeful sort of reckless abandon. It was great fun for him, a schoolyard game that stretched across the city with the blast radius of a nuclear bomb. 

“I think we’re very similar,” the Villain hissed in the Hero’s ear, his voice sizzling like fire along a denoting cord. His hand was clamped sharply around the Hero’s neck, perfect to swing him around and send him smashing into another unfinished partition of drywall. The Villain had, of course, found it quite easy to lure the Hero there, a half-finished construction site on the outskirts of the city. For however destructive the Villain was, he had his rare moments of cleverness. 

“I am nothing like you.” The Hero’s hand groped blindly in the air, grabbing handfuls of nothing as he searched for something useful. 

The Villain scoffed, another sharp, raspy sort of sound like firecrackers. He rolled his eyes.

“Oh, please. We go hand in hand! Lighter and cigarette, fist and punching glove, wrecking ball and operator.” The Villain smiled, sharp and easy, “You complete me.” 

“Shut up.” The Hero bit back a groan. If he got thrown through one more wall— 

“We do have one major difference, though. You and me.” The Villain’s grip tightened. He had rough sort of hands, calloused hands, with ash under the fingertips. His hands were the least of the Hero’s focus, though. Not as the Villain leaned in, so close that the Hero could count the flecks of color in his irises. “When I knock things down,  I don’t try to pick them back up. It’s painfully frustrating how you reject your nature. It’s like a bird insisting on walking when he can fly.” 

His words sent sparks through the Hero, those hot, firecracker sparks. His fingers were seizing the front of the Villain’s suit, wrinkling the sleek, black fabric and sending them both twisting around like fighting snakes, into drywall and half-finished tile. 

“There we go! This is why we do this!” The Villain cackled, even as pieces of plaster stuck haphazardly out of his hair, and even as the dust frosted the dark spikes until they looked greyed and fatigued. The Hero was convinced the Villain would never go grey naturally. Going grey indicated some form of stress. The Villain was stressed by nothing. Stress pleased him more than anything in the world. “Doesn’t that feel good? Don’t you just want it out of your system sometimes, Hero? Doesn’t the destruction just eat you up inside?”

“I said shut up!” 

The Villain laughed, even as his head sent tiles cracking and shattering to the unfinished floors as the Hero slammed it. 

“We could topple cities together, you know. We could topple whole cities. We could be Vesuvius for every Pompeii in the world.” The Villain tilted his head back up to study the Hero. “Have you ever thought about that?” 

Destruction was all the Hero thought himself to be good at. It happened even when he didn’t want it to, even when hehated it. He had thought about it. It was all he had ever thought about. 

“No,” the Hero said. Destructive lies accompanied by destructive fists. The same side on the same coin. The Villain smiled at him, for he knew the Hero lied. Hands so good at destruction couldn’t help but take a little pleasure in it, no matter how the Hero denied, denied, denied…

“I’d think you hated me.” 

“I do hate you.” 

“If you hated me, you wouldn’t even try to destroy me!” The Villain laughed. The Hero tightened his grip as he felt the ghost of calloused fingers along his hand, a breath away but not touching. Just enough to make the muscles in his wrist twitch.  “We only destroy the things we love, you know. Anything else is just mindless. Don’t you agree? It’s why you’re my favorite thing to try and destroy…Am I your favorite?” 

The Hero stayed silent, coldly silent. The kind of silence accompanied the twitch of an eye, and sharp grinding of a jaw. 

“Oh, you just broke my heart. I love when you do that.” 

[writingwithrxd]

please tell me about your novels I love seeing writers passionately explain the plots of the things they create PLEASE (it also adds years onto my life btw)

[writingwithrxd]

I'm just like the characters I write because I too am gay and I too struggle through herculean trials every day of my life

[writingwithrxd]

"What are you reading right now?" My own wip because apparently I forgot my own writing style

[writingwithrxd]

I love other writers so much because every writer I've ever met is genuinely and utterly deranged on a level only writers can achieve

[writingwithrxd]

Feels like i'm marching off to battle when in reality I'm just getting ready to set the 20-minute writing timer

[writingwithrxd]

the wip will get to 10k today the wip will get to 10k today the wip will get to 10k today the wip will get to 10k today the wip will get to 10k today the wip will get to 10k today the wip will get to 10k today the wip will get to 10k today the wip wi

[writingwithrxd]

Writing without an outline is sometimes like driving without a GPS.

I know I’m going to get there, but I don’t exactly know how.

[writingwithrxd]

the "every word you write means your writing improves" demons and the "your old writing is better than your new stuff bozo" demons are constantly strangling each other in the depths of my mind

[writingwithrxd]

Are you a writer (fanfic or otherwise) with Aphantasia?

And if so, how do you feel it affects your writing process/writing in general? I always kind of thought it helped me (I had to think more in words due to a lack of mental imagery), but when trying to write about the layout of a room or other setting, I am literally cooked. But I think it's interesting to hear about, especially because writing is so heavily based in thought and imagination. (Definition of Aphantasia: A characteristic in which your brain doesn't form or use mental images as part of your imagination/thinking.)

[writingwithrxd]

Forced to exist within society, born to be some medieval king's silly little court storyteller

[writingwithrxd]

Loyal! Hero X Disloyal! Villain

{M/NB | 520 Words | 7-6-25}

“Just leave.” 

“I won’t.” 

“You’re being impossible.” 

“I won’t.”

It was frustrating. Eternally frustrating. Like a constant uphill battle, or pulling the sword out of the stone, all of that. Like throwing yourself against a brick wall and expecting it to crumble under your weight. Expecting something to change that never would. That’s exactly what it felt like, with him. 

The Hero was, as his name suggested, relentless. Unmoving. Fixed.

Loyal. 

The word made bile rise in the Villain’s throat, accompanied by the coppery, distinct taste of blood. Loyal was unfounded. Loyal was irrational. Loyal got you stabbed in the back, or the front, or wherever your most vulnerable point was. 

“You’re going to get yourself killed one day. Sticking around like that.” It was almost enough to make the Villain laugh, if it wasn’t so damn pathetic..and if it didn’t hurt to laugh. Cracked ribs and a bruised sternum didn’t exactly make someone want to go into a giggle-fit. 

“I don’t care…you’re hurt,” the Hero muttered. He really did look pathetic. All the empathy of someone who felt guilty about stepping on bugs, with a frown and big eyes like a disciplined dog. He crossed the distance to the Villain without the apprehension that came with disloyalty, without the cynical nature of one who was untrusting (rightfully untrusting). He crouched down, scanning over their injuries with a focus that made his brows crease. Concentrated. A kind of focus on the bruises that indicated a true, genuine concern. Concern for them, the Villain. The one who, by all means, had wanted to get the Hero into this exact position the entire time they had known him. Vulnerable. Open.

“So?” The Villain bristled as he touched them. They’d been hurt plenty of times, by plenty of people. It was nothing new…physically hurt, that is. Never emotionally. Disloyalty offered a shield for their emotions, a barrier surrounding the soft, squishy self that existed beneath their skin. 

“Who?” The Hero’s head rose, and he met their eyes. How good-natured. How noble. How righteous. How utterly…

“Who what?” The Villain asked, a sneer painted across their face. It hurt to breathe, but they’d be damned if they showed it. 

“Who hurt you?” He asked it with all the good intentions and worry of someone asking after a dying family member. It was sickening. There is no way he was actually like that, right? No way he actually moved through life with such wide eyes and didn’t see how the world actually was.

“Just—” The Villain inhaled sharply through their nose, biting back whatever brewed deep in their chest. “Go.” 

“No,” the Hero said, as though it was the easiest thing in the world, not even a decision so much as an instinct. “I wouldn’t leave you.” 

“I would leave you.” 

“I know.” 

“Then why?” Staying made no sense. It was stupid. Illogical. Loyal. All the things the Hero was in the very depths of his being that the Villain could never fathom.

He stared at them again, as though the question made no sense. None at all. 

“Because I wouldn’t leave you.”

[writingwithrxd]

oh to be cringe and free <3 (if you think it's cringe WRITE IT ANYWAY THAT'S HOW YOU KNOW IT'S GOOD)

write the cringe. bathe in it, soak in it and put it on paper. cringe is where the truth is hidden. its where creativity slumbers and my number one way to get rid of writing blocks

[writingwithrxd]

born to write extremely convoluted descriptions and vibe-based passages, forced to include actual plot 💔

[writingwithrxd]

time for the government-mandated tumblr scrolling break!!!!!! (the manuscript is in shambles and on fire)