Hello! Welcome to my writing shop~
My name is Ona, and I've been writing since elementary school. I'll take my pen to pretty much anything you throw at me; and I do mean anything.
This is going to be a cheap shop, as writing comes so easily to me. No price will exceed 1 mil. On top of this, I also guarantee that within 24 hours of me accepting your order - unless it's lyrics, I hate those - that your piece will be completed.
~[Intro, Samples, Prices, Dos & Don'ts, Order Form, Orders Taken, & Orders Completed]~
Since this is what you came here for, let's cut to the chase. Below is a single sample for every type of writing I offer, and a description to better help you decide what you want.
Short Stories Short stories are exactly what they sound like, a short story.
One day I fell asleep, and I never woke up. And in my dream, there was a forest. It was an odd place. There was no green in this forest. Perhaps it was fall, because all of the leaves on the trees, and all the plants on the ground, were red. And what a rich, beautiful red! It was the same enticing shade of red as a sugary sweet candy apple. For a while I thought that the colors were pretty. However, the farther I walked, the worse I felt. There wasn’t a sound to be heard, and far away where your vision melds the sky with the horizon, things were starting to fade into bruised purples and somber blues. It almost looked like fog; and when I saw that fog, I found myself deeply afraid.
It was cold now. Had it been so damnably cold before? I rather think that it hadn’t been. Was I lost? Turning around, all my tired little eyes could see was red. There was no Momma here, and no Poppa either. Had I really had them to begin with? I thought first that I had. But the more I thought, the more my churning mind questioned that small reality. You see, I didn’t know which was the dream anymore, and which was real. I thought that perhaps I knew a lot of nice people, in the prettiest white coats. I think they might have helped me once.
Well, either way; one day I fell asleep, and I never woke up.
Poems A poem can be any kind of poetry, be it free verse, haiku, sonnet, anything.
I’m waiting by the door for you Dad, bundled up in blankets,
Just like I said I would.
It’s late and I’m tired, but I’m here, trying not to fall asleep,
Just like you said I should.
Mom is mad at you again, Dad, thou she tries to hide it in her voice.
She says that you’re not coming.
She says that you’re not ever going to show, that I should give up hoping.
But still, I’ll wait here by the door.
Pick your player now, one from a million, million!
Grab your combo cards and don't forget to fill in, fill in!
Scope the competition, and get ready for the fight, fight!
Soon you will be killing, playing just to prove your might, might!
You're playing in the tourney, scaling up in the ranks, ranks!
And if you win, there'll cash to take straight to the bank, bank!
But sometimes you need a little boost, boost,
So if you wanna add some spice you just need to...
If brawlers aint your thing, well don't you worry none, none!
You can still join in! Just start your shooter; we'll have tons of fun, fun!
So grab your laser gun, take aim and just shoot, shoot!
And if you have the skill, you could wind up with all the loot, loot!
You'll find winning quite euphoric, well worth any work, work!
Maybe girls will even think, that your status is a perk, perk!
So your character aint quite up to snuff, snuff,
Just think of this like a little buff and go...
Up, Up, Down, Down, Left, Right, Left, Right, A, B!
Bleeds Bleeds are a type of writing where I don't really have an end goal or even an idea of what I'm writing. I just put down the first thing that comes to my mind.
Slowly winter swirls downward in soft snowflakes, dampening the locks of a young woman. Her skin is as pale as ice, chapped and lined with worry. Her breath billows forth in time with her shallow breathing as she stares around her, her gaze glazed and hollow. Bare hands reach out begging for help in their silent, quiet way. Her tattered figure manages to scream without making a sound. Passerby make it their job to ignore and deny her. Few afford her even a spare glance. Why would they? She’s not their problem, and that’s all that matters.
Here on the street, she’s not the only one that’s been left stranded and forsaken. She’s just a single drop in an ocean. Not even those who are in the same ocean speak to her. In this cold place no one thinks to ask questions. No one wants to know you, or even your story. No one even wants to see you. Here, you’re not a human being, not a life lost in a storm. Here you are what’s happened to you: a tragedy. No one wants to get involved in your story. No one even wants to hear it. No one asks, and certainly no one tells. This girl is no exception, and this is no movie where she’s guaranteed a happy ending. For all she lives and breathes, she’s discarded like so much rubbish. Her empty stare whispers that she knows that she has no worth. At least, not to the people shoving past her, ignoring her entreaties. They’re strangers, for all they’re just as human as she is, and they don’t care to know that she’ll go hungry tonight without their help.
Bit by bit, the hours pile on like the heaps of snow all around. She needs shelter from the cold, when there’s none to be found. She’s freezing over, inside and out. Here in this place that the light doesn’t touch, her tears don’t have a sound. As her isolation continues, the numbing seeps into her very bones, as slow as molasses. Without even putting up a fight, she throws in the towel. She won’t even try now. There’s no point in trying, when people don’t even think about brushing you aside like the snowflakes landing on their coats. All you can do is sit and wait. So that’s what she does. She doesn’t want to think about how much better things were before. There’s no point in that either. It won’t change her situation. So she sits, and she breathes, expelling delicate clouds of mist that are almost immediately blown apart by the wind. Drawing her scant protection closer, she keeps breathing in… And out… And in… And out, each breath a wavering step towards the rest that she can’t get here.
Prompted Writings Like short stories, but you'd give me the prompt you want to see me write about.
“This is terrible. It could put thousands of people out of work.” The Conscience mutters in quiet awe-struck horror. The steady hum of the machines buzzed along, manned by a horde of industrious workers. All it can think of is how many of these workers would go home to try and figure out how they would survive.
The Impulse rolls it’s eyes, with a harsh: “So what?” It doesn’t look at the people, only at the potential profits. It can’t begin to think of anything but itself.
“So they won’t be able to support themselves!” The Conscience says, with a broad gesture it motions to a factory full of workers. For almost every worker, there was an adjoining family to be supported. He was desperate just to get the other to understand this. There had to be some sort of sympathy. Didn’t everyone know how to manage at least that much?
“Yeah, but that’s not my problem. It’s good for me.” The Impulse hardly spares a passing glance, or a moment of doubt. It could feel it’s annoyance begin irked. Why so much of a fuss over some nameless faces?
“It makes you money.” The Conscience consents. It knew better than to say that there was no profit to be had. However, it knew better than to think that was a justifiable reason for anything. Giving it’s counterpart a woeful look, it countered the statement. “That doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to do!” These words ring true, through a lull in the background sounds.
The Impulse snorts derisively. “There’s nothing wrong with making a little extra cash.” It’s voice is hard, cold, and careless to any harm that might occur. By now the Impulse was intentionally ignoring the merit in its counter-parts words.
“There is if you do it at other’s expense!” The Conscience shouts, pointing an accusatory finger. It’s coupled with a hard stare, just as relentless. Surely the Impulse wasn’t seriously considering this? It was insane!
“It’s my job to take care of me. I’m nobody’s caretaker.” The Impulse turns it back, on both conscience and workers alike. Its face is a cool blank mask. No one would see so much as a hint of guilt, not if it would have its way.
Chosen Word Poems This is like poems, except here, you give me a fistful of words you want to be in the poem and I work from there, building around your chosen words.
Lost in envy one cannot see,
The hopeless struggle that's come to be.
Gasping, thrashing, trying to breathe,
One can only hope to leave.
Where once was love, spite now lives,
Sustained on the thrill one-upmanship gives.
Until you learn to give your trust
Insecurity becomes a must.
For don't you now see?
Jealousy has taken over me.
Chosen Word Short Stories This is like short stories, except here, you give me a fistful of words you want to be in the poem and I work from there, building around your chosen words.
As one sits in their personal reveries a rogue, fleeting thought drifts into their peripheral vision. At this distance it seems appealing. It shimmers in beautiful opalescence, whispering as delicately as the softest silks. Like a siren it tempts with a soft symphony made to feign benevolence. However, the closer it drifts, the easier it is to see through this sheer mask to the true nature of the matter. The beckoning is still as strong as the call of a calliope, but the sound is becoming more ominous. This is no sweet confection with a quaint air of antiquity. Instead it is a still and loathsome thing, dressed up in macabre trappings and ornaments.
For a moment indecision strikes, leaving the thinker trapped betwixt action and inaction. Then the tension is broken and that dubious thought is brushed aside, as careful plans are laid down meticulously in ink. Truer thoughts arrive, encouraging one to dwell upon the heroic martyr, or the mysteries of lunar travel. Perhaps one might even find some inspiration from celestial bodies. And while these distractions arrive, that initial thought is left tucked far away, where it might sit and wait in a state of atrophy forever more.
Custom Orders This is anything from descriptions to coding. If it isn't listed above, chances are, this is what you want.
~[Intro, Samples, Prices, Dos & Don'ts, Order Form, Orders Taken, & Orders Completed]~
Now since this is still a shop, let's address the elephant in the room. No, not the pink one on parade. I meant my prices.
Short Stories :: 250 Thousand Gold
Poems :: 150 - 500 Thousand Gold, depending on the type of poetry
Lyrics :: 1 Million Gold
Bleeds :: 30 Thousand Gold
Prompted Writings :: 500 Thousand Gold
Chosen Word Poems :: 500 - 800 Thousand Gold, depending on the type of poetry
Chosen Word Short Stories :: 750 Thousand Gold
Custom Orders:: ??? Gold, depends on what it is
Tips:: Are not required, but are greatly appreciated.
~[Intro, Samples, Prices, Dos & Don'ts, Order Form, Orders Taken, & Orders Completed]~
There are some things I will do, and some that I will not. Look below to see if you shall, or shall not, pass.
Do's
Almost anything. Just ask me, I don't bite.
Don'ts
Smut. I'm not going to write you a porno. Go to another site for that.
Schoolwork. You cannot bribe me into writing your English assignments for you.
~[Intro, Samples, Prices, Dos & Don'ts, Order Form, Orders Taken, & Orders Completed]~
If you couldn't tell by my cotton candy coded shop, I like pretty things. So when ordering, please fill out the following form:
[align=center][b][color=cornflowerblue]ORDER UP![/b]
[size=9][color=cornflowerblue]Userame:: [color=lightpink]YOUR USERNAME HERE
[color=cornflowerblue]Type:: [color=lightpink]THE TYPE OF COMMISSION YOU WANT
[color=cornflowerblue]Specifics:: [color=lightpink]ANY SPECIFIC DETAILS?[/size][/align]
~[Intro, Samples, Prices, Dos & Don'ts, Order Form, Orders Taken, & Orders Completed]~
Gee, it sure would be helpful to know how busy I am! Oh wait; that's what this post is for. Here I'll list every order I've taken, crossing them out if they've been finished: Like so.
Orders Taken 1. OC Yaoi Short Story - Anonymous User 2. OC Character Profiles - SiegeDragomon 3. OC Short Story - keelun 4. OC Short Story - sunnygirl 5. 3k Word Count Continuation of OC Short Story - keelun 6. OC Pokemon Story - Anonymous User 7. 8. 9. 10.
~[Intro, Samples, Prices, Dos & Don'ts, Order Form, Orders Taken, & Orders Completed]~
This is strictly for me, as it doesn't really help my customers to know how many people have come before them. I just like knowing how many people I've worked for.
Orders Filled 1. OC Yaoi Short Story - Anonymous User 2. OC Character Profiles - SiegeDragomon 3. OC Short Story - keelun 4. 5. 6.
~[Intro, Samples, Prices, Dos & Don'ts, Order Form, Orders Taken, & Orders Completed]~
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