#my commissions are open please commission me so i can go meet my friends and boyfriend for the first time

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐗-𝐌𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐏𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: charles xavier, erik lehnsherr, logan howlett, marie lebeau, and peter maximoff

↳ warnings: x-man type violence maybe? nothing much

↳ notes: just some self indulgent headcanons about how the gang would deal with someone who hates skin on skin contact. this is based on my own personal experiences, so it might not cater to everyone. charles and erik are written to be more of themselves around the first class era, peter is himself as seen in apocalypse, and marie & logan are more set in the first movie's portrayal of them

↳ song: heavy metal lover—lady gaga

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫 [𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫 𝐗]

• Oh this is not one bit of a problem for Charles

• He's never needed physical contact to connect with people. Whether that's because of his powers, or his 'natural charm' as he calls it, you aren't sure, but your strange request for no contact never seemed to put him off his friendship with you

• Charles has his own ways of bonding with you, no hugs or handshakes required. Instead of nudges used to alert the other of a particularly funny joke, he'd just send you flashes in your mind regarding the situation. The end result was always the same; with the both of you grinning at each other while the rest of the room was left to make their own assumptions as to what you were thinking about

• "Seriously, it's creepy when they do that. They could be talking about anything." Alex whispered to Hank one day as you and Charles stood across the room from each other, not caring if the Professor was able to hear him or not. The only sign that you were even talking was the occasional huff of laughter Charles would let out as you scrunched your nose up in a toothy grin

• "Oh, I wouldn't say that." Hanks eyes gleam from behind his glasses as he watches the two of his friends. "Charles tells me most of it is just really bad jokes, if you want to know."

• As if on cue, the spell between you and Charles breaks as you delve into a laughing fit, and Alex and Hank can't help but shake their heads at each other in slight amusement as they watch

• He does an excellent job at speaking for you when you can't quite explain to new people why you are the way you are—as long as you'll let him, of course

• Maybe it's because he's been in your head, or just because he knows you so well that he can say exactly what you're thinking before you even know it. And sometimes, he doesn't even need to explain much at all. One carefully worded sentence backed with that steady tone of his is enough to make even the most ignorant of people understand

• "No handshakes for them, please." Charles had found himself saying that sentence more times than he could count since getting to know you, but he never found himself growing tired of it; even when you eventually found the awkward courage to start speaking on your behalf. Especially when you started speaking on your behalf

• Charles is a very patient man, and he couldn't be happier than to wait for you to open up to the world like you had done for him, even if it does take a while

𝐄𝐫𝐢𝐤 𝐋𝐞𝐡𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫 [𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐨]

• I'm going to be completely honest with you. At first, Erik finds your habit of avoiding touch annoying

• It's a weakness in his eyes that you have every opportunity to avoid acquiring. He doesn't see the point in being afraid of something so miniscule

• When he first meets you, he's probably an asshole about it. Erik doesn't go out of his way to touch you on purpose, but he won't take extra steps to stop himself from doing so. If the back of his hand brushes against yours as he storms away from another one of Charles' annoying lectures? Then so be it. Who cares if you pull back from him like you've been burned, clutching your skin tightly as you glare at his retreating form

• It will take a while for Erik to begin to understand you, much like it does for him to understand a lot of things about the rest of the world. I won't say that he ever officially apologizes for his past behavior toward you, but he definitely drops hints that he does regret it

• "Never thought I'd live to hear the Erik Lehnsherr himself say sorry for something he did. Next you'll be telling me you've always liked humans." Your eyes were wide in faux surprise as you stared at him one day, looking like you had just heard the best news of your life. It was a good thing you and Erik had a much better relationship than when you had first met, otherwise he wouldn't have had a second thought about shutting you up

• "All I said was that maybe I maybe could have been a bit nicer to you." He sighed, already regretting this entire interaction

• "Oh, you're not getting off that easy." You were already scrambling for the door, completely missing the way Erik rolled his eyes and flicked his hand up in preparation. "Charles! Charles, you'll never believe what just happened—"

• He ended up using your belt buckle to drag you across the room before you could embarrass him any further

• Once he's warmed up to you, I'd like to think that he's definitely used the fact that lots of people wear rings and bracelets to his advantage to stop people from touching you at bars or in crowds

• He swears up and down he doesn't get attached to anyone, and especially not someone that associates with the X-Men of all groups, but you've definitely have had a few people look at their hands around you in confusion while he's around. Almost as if someone else had a say in their actions

• "Big softie."

• "You do know I could kill you if I wanted to."

• "I'd like to retract my last statement, please and thank you."

𝐋𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭 [𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞]

• Logan doesn't give two shits about your strange request

• Not in the way that he ignores it like Erik, but rather in the way that he literally doesn't give a fuck if you want to be touched or not. He wasn't planning on touching you anyways, so it's not like he really has to think about it

• If anything, Logan is one of the only people who can even begin to understand your mindset. He's never been too fond of people just outright touching him without a warning first, especially if they were strangers, but that's what you get after being experimented on for years

• He'll have to get to both know and like you before he starts taking your words more seriously. Otherwise, all you're getting from him is a gruff noise of disinterest and a roll of his shoulders as he blows past you

• Or ar least that's what he'd like you to think

• "Watch it, pal." You barely had time to process what that noise was next to your ear before Logan was standing dangerously close to you. You were about to ask him to back away before you saw his hand up, and when you looked at his hand you saw it was closed around a strangers wrist; the likes of which was outreached in your direction and just about to make contact with you

• Logans rough tone and sharp glare had sent the fellow stumbling away with an apology, and left you standing there with a bewildered look on your face. It only grew larger when he refused to look at you afterward

• "Don't let it get to your head." Was all he huffed out in your general direction before walking off to continue the mission the both of you were on. Through the com's in your ears, you could hear the rest of the team asking you what was going on, and with a slow upward tick of your lip you finally answered

• "I think Wolverine here has gone a bit soft on my end guys."

• You were given the cold shoulder for the rest of the week by Logan, and every time he glared at you, you couldn't help but try to hold in laughter

• "See, this is why I'm not nice."

• "No no no I take it all back, I swear. You're so mean. You're the meanest, toughest person here, never done a good deed in your life—"

• "Shut the fuck up."

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮 [𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞]

• She doesn't understand why you'd choose to have people not touch you

• For Marie, not being able to hug someone— to even so much as hold hands with the people she loved —is a curse. She wasn't such a fool to think that her mutation itself was the curse, Charles had managed to drill that thought out of her head a long while ago, but the side-effect that came with it would forever haunt her

• So when she found out that you actively took strides to make sure no one ever touched you (if possible), she was in disbelief

• "I just don't get it." She'd confessed to you out of the blue once. "How can you stand it? If I were you—"

• "But you're not." You cut her off and shrugged, voice devoid of any meanness or annoyance at the turn of conversation. "I get it. I must seem crazy to you. I'd imagine that you'd jump at the chance to be able to touch someone again. But that just isn't me. I can't stand the feeling of being touched. Makes me feel gross; inside and out. I don't ask you to understand it, just that you respect it. Yeah?"

• She had nodded slowly at you, not expecting the sudden explanation. It wasn't unwelcome, however. Quite the contrary. She'd rather understand you than stew in quiet confusion

• From that moment on, even if Marie thinks you're a little crazy in the head, she does her best to make sure that both herself and others take your wishes to heart

• You have to admit, it's nice having her look out for you. And it helps that she's one of the most powerful mutants on campus; one sideways look from her, and she could send anyone in the opposite direction from you if you need

𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 [𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫]

• You're constantly having to remind him that you don't like people touching you

• It's not Peter's fault he forgets sometime. His brain is always going going going from one thing to the next. Thinking about the next mission, the quickest way to get from one end of the country to the other, how to beat that stupid kid at the arcade that keeps leaving him and his high scores in the dust—

• Okay so maybe he could do a bit of a better job of trying to listen

• "Peter, reach for the back of my neck again and I'm gonna break both of your legs." You didn't even have to turn around to know that he was itching to latch onto your neck, most likely to take you on a surprise trip a few states over. Or maybe just to the mall. He was spontaneous like that

• When you did manage to look up from your notebook and back at him, you found that Peter was already a good few feet away from you, holding up his hands with a deceivingly innocent smile; but respecting your wishes all the same

• "You sure you're not a secret nun or something?" He poked fun at the way you refused to let anyone touch you, even going as far to squint at you in an unconvinced manner. You ignored his clear misunderstanding of nuns to snort in amusement

• "No."

• "Could have fooled me, babe."

• He sped away before you had the chance to throw your papers at his head

• Peter's probably the kind of guy to constantly tease you to your face, but the moment you're not in sight and someone's ragging on you, he'll shut them down. He's done it many times to stray students in the hallways of the school who talk just a little too loud about your personal boundaries

• "I'm just saying, man, they're a little weird. The other day, I asked to borrow a pencil, and they threw it at me. While standing less than a foot away. It's just strange—"

• Less than a second later, the student was sent falling to the floor over his shoelaces, which were suspiciously tied together in contrast to moments ago when they had been placed in neat little bows

• The only sign that this hadn't been a freak accident was the telltale burst of wind that sped by the student and their friend, a faint laugh following in its wake

[gladiatorcunt]

🪺 - # WINTERGREEN CANDY CANE !!

cw: canon typical mind games, baby trapping/pregnancy, manipulation, reader’s emotionally constipated, tashi’s injury, cunnilingus, cockwarming, tit fucking, established tashi & patrick (there’s no feelings between them but they stay together for reader in the beginning), lactation, not rlly smut focused despite the tags, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, ambiguous baby daddy (even though the ending can be read a certain way), one mention of patrick x art, afab reader, there’s a thought about you being injured but it’s not serious, small time skip (?) type thing and implied future pregnancies, purposefully vague/unreliable narrator vibes

patrick and art’s descriptions are heavily insp. by these posts

consider commissioning me or leaving me a tip if you enjoyed!

They never tell you that Tashi got injured on purpose. She’s too good to fall victim to what plagues so many athletes, but you don’t know that. You, her assumed rival and yet also the poster child of sportsmanship. Rivalry can bring out affection in people, it can highlight the need for someone who can understand you better than anyone else possibly could. You’ve never been anything but soft and sweet, but you can still summon the lightning streaking across the sky in your eyes when the game begins. There’s a glow around you that Tashi craves like a moth craves the shadow behind the light they fly into.

Tashi’s fall from her pedestal was painful and the hardest decision she’s ever made, but for the first time she made it for love. The set up was the easiest part, but now she has to actually make the serve. And she can’t do it alone, she’d be stupid to be blind to how her boyfriend and his best friend’s stares linger. What she and Patrick shared fizzled out a while ago, but if she lets him go, then that signs her up for a battle she’d rather avoid. Sometimes pleasure can be derived from depriving an animal of the chance to kill rather than setting it free and giving it an opportunity to go after you first.

Who knows, maybe someday you and her can share matching injuries.

Luckily, Patrick shares the same sentiment, quickly agreeing to the arrangement and plan when he visited prior to the injury. Art’s good at downplaying his toxicity, so Tashi wasn’t concerned about if he could play the part of a “worried friend”. You’ll bust into the office while she’s getting checked out to see Art there, and the infatuation you've been harboring for him will keep you in place. The queen on the chessboard who can’t really move however they please at all. Patrick will return in a “rush to see his girlfriend”, and you’ll be too intrinscingly intertwined in their web to cut yourself loose.

You weren’t the one she was playing against, but because of your “friendship” you’re there in the audience when it all goes down. The shock of something career ending happening to someone who had the most potential of anyone you’d ever seen is staggering.

You practically run to see if Tashi’s okay, and the disappointment that you might never play with her again is palpable. But she’ll be fine, you tell yourself, she has to be.

Art has already left by the time you get to the room she’s in, doing one of his parts of the plan and allowing Tashi to put everything into motion. He’s waiting nearby, running his hands through his hair as he imagines all the ways he can comfort you. Because you will need comforting later, and your future husband knows the best remedies for your incoming sadness.

You’re standing gobsmacked in front of her bandaged knee, a confirmation that this is really it. You shrug off your bag and let it slide down your arm to the cold floor. Your mouth opens but the words don’t come out. You struggle to know what to say as Tashi’s eyes meet yours.

“What am I supposed to do now, huh? My top competitors gone up and left me hanging.” You sigh, trying to keep the kicked puppy look out of your eyes.

She’s in pain and you’re making this about you. But if you and Tashi aren’t bound by Tennis, then what are you bound by. Your friendship doesn’t go beyond the court, so what do you even share now?

There’s no big declarations, no babbling where you word vomit about glad you are that she’s okay. Neither of you are those kinds of people. The energy in the air is dead, but the situation is too serious for awkward small talk. All you two can focus on is what’s ruined, but only one of you can also acknowledge what stands to be gained.

“Take a break, then.” She says plainly, a touch too proud to beg. “For me, I mean who else am I gonna let see me like this?”

That last is an attempt to lighten the mood, to use humor to point out how you’re truly the only person she’d let see her in tatters. Your eyes widen and you freeze, but then you take a seat next to the cot and take her hand. Your smile could destroy the sun, she thinks, and even if the earth was plunged into darkness you’d make it feel like there was nothing to be worried about at all.

“Okay, just for a little bit.” You chuckle and rub her shoulder delicately.

You don’t know what on earth possesses you to say it, but you realize that the absence of a challenge would drive you insane. There’s other reasons for it, ones you’re aware and ones you’re not. But you and Tashi have a way of saying just enough without ever needing to be raw and reveal what you really mean. If there’s a coherent meaning to be found.

“A little bit” ends up being forever, your pregnancies see to that.

Tashi makes Patrick and Art hinge a match solely on who’d get first crack at it; they play so savagely that you’d think they were stray dogs fighting over moldy scraps of food. She’s there when you get morning sickness and she sends the boys out with a list of what you’re currently craving at that moment. She’ll brush your hair and do your skincare for you, rubbing your belly while everyone’s asleep and telling you’re baby that she’d better be their favorite (after you of course).

Tashi takes pride in how she pleases your pussy when you’re too swollen to put in any of the work. She licks broad stripes up your soaked cunt, nipping at your clit and getting you to cream into her mouth in no time at all. She presses sweet little kisses up and down your folds, wishing you could see her love on your pussy properly. They’ve had competitions on who can make you squirt the fastest, and Tashi will never fail to mention that she’s never lost once.

Patrick gets really into cockwarming, getting you nice and settled in his lap. He has to take deep breaths so he doesn’t immediately start thrusting, he knows he has to think about the baby. But the pregnancy has made you impossibly tight, and your hormones make you go crazy for his sweat and natural musk. You’ll whine at him to hover over your head so you suck on his heavy balls. You nag about how he needs to take better care of himself, but you’ve grown to love swallowing his tangy load while you’re suffocating in his pubes.

When that happens depends on how long either of you can hold out, Patrick will tease you about how slutty you’ve been lately and squeeze your face with one hand. His cock will twitch inside of you, snug and strangled. He'll suck Art off till both of their lips are bleeding and you’ll motorboat Tashi’s tits to pass the time. You’ll start swiveling your hips somewhere along the way and his resolve will crumble like it never existed in the first place.

That’s for later though. He fastens the ugly neon cartoonish headphones over your belly and turns on the attached mic, doing storytime with the softest grin on his face.

Art on other hand likes fucking your leaking tits, he loves when drops of milk lube up the slide of his dick in the valley between them. He’ll thumb at your sensitive nipples and flick them, cooing at you when you moan and lap at his cockhead during the split second it reaches your mouths. He’ll look after your breasts outside of the bedroom. He’ll massage them and drain them for you if they’re feeling particularly sore, two of them will be latching on either tit while the third will be sucking on your tongue. His pecs bounce with every languid roll of his hips through the pocket his hands create, and he brings your hands up to them so you’ll grab on and leave scratches.

Art gives you more cum, his literal breeder balls are too big and full, and he’ll bet that he’ll give you more children. His thrusts have a certain punchy rhyme and rhythm to them while Patrick’s are sloppily enthusiastic and feral.

Art picks out supplies for the nursery with you, supporting your vision wholeheartedly and agreeing with every color and stuffed animal you choose. He and Patrick continue with their careers, and Tashi finds a way to coach them both, they need to support you and the new member of their slightly dysfunctional family. Tashi writes up the speech you give when you announce your early and extremely unexpected retirement, and she massages your feet when you collapse on the couch from the sheer emotional exhaustion. Art pecks each of your toes as she does so. Patrick plays tic tac toe against himself in the hollow of your throat.

And when the baby’s born and they can finally see who actually got you knocked up, Tashi says that maybe Patrick will get to be happy that he’s finally won something.

- faetreides 2024. do not repost, translate, or give my works to ai

[idkfitememate]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write another part for Otter creator! Like maybe them with Furina and Neuvillette having a tea party or something! (Possibly Wriothesley[?]!!), and they start realising more! (If Wriothesley’s there he should be oblivious for a bit!)

The Otter Chronicles Pt. 1

♡︎ « Next Part ⋙

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Otter Reader x Fontaine

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 1.3k

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Fluff, yandere-ish behavior (really straining the term here), itty bitty bit of angst

“Tea party, hooray!” It was easy to see that Furina was excited.

Because today was the day for your first REAL tea party. Not just locked in a room with her for a day.

And yes you meant a literal day. Like a whole ass day.

Anyway-

Her and Neuvillette were going to FINALLY take you to meet Wriothesley! Yay! It was just a date to take about some royal officiant bullshit you couldn’t bring yourself to care about, but as per usual, they refused to take you out of their sights.

So here you were, getting all dolled up in Lady Furina’s lap. A new bow tie, a fancier hat, and somehow Otter friendly makeup.

Where they found it? You don’t know. Did they make it? You’re 99.9% sure they had it commissioned. Do you look good with cate eye eyeliner? Hell yes.

You were now being carried in the Otter Pack™️ (a rather large and plush satchel that Neuvillette carried around, filled with lush blankets and pillows and only the FINEST toys for you to play with) with your head sticking out of the top, your fur freshly combed and oiled. Neuvillette’s fingers curled through what wasn’t covered by the hat.

Hell, you even had on some adorable golden and lapis embedded clip on earrings - they wouldn’t dare pierce your ears for fear of hurting you and damaging your hearing.

People cooed at you in your Otter Pack™️ and you sucked that shit up, you were basically drowning in sparkles!~ All the while Furina and Neuvillette spoke above you.

“Are we sure we should bring mon preux chevalier? I mean, naturally we should share their beauty with the world but… in a place filled with criminals..?” Furina spoke in a hushed tone, not wanting you to hear her.

“I understand my Lady, but there is no one to trust to take care of them. Who will give them their favorite treats? Shine their coat? Scratch their tummy? No can do it the way we can, Lady Furina. Besides, we are here for only a Tea Party, it should only last around two hours with the matter we must discuss. Three hours at the latest.” Neuvillette replied. Though in truth, he had just as many issues with the whole situation.

It truly was a shame no one was as capable to take care of their darling Otter as them. *Dramatic sigh in French*

Arriving at the entrance to the Fortress of Meropide, the duo were ushered inside and directly into Wriothesley’s office.

“Lady Furina! Monsieur Neuvillette! How nice it is to have you in humble prison. Please, follow me.” Wriothesley smoothly opened the conversation, leading the duo to his tea table. Finally, he noticed the Otter Pack™️.

“*Ahem* I see we have a… guest?” Wriothesley mused. See he hadn’t been on the surface for a bit, and news travels slow beneath the waves, so had had no clue of the big hydro duo’s new friend.

“Yea. This is Le superviseur officiel du jury du palais de justice de Fontaine. La Loutre de l'Opéra Eclipse*.” Neuvillette responded curtly. You chittered happily at the title you had just been given as off the last trial held. And Wriothesley only sweated at the long title.

“I… see. Anyway, if we are ready to begin…” And with that you stopped listening.

You had been here for barely a few minutes and you were already bored. See, usually with Furina, something would be happening. Something spectacular! Or intriguing! Never had you seen her in such a… boring environment. Hell, you could tell she was bored but you supposed that being an Archon came with other bullshit jobs other than being pretty and revered.

You hopped out of the Otter Pack™️ and snuggled up in Neuvillette’s lap, and noticed the extra teacup in front of you. Chittering, you sniffed and licked at it, then curled up once more.

You were trying to hide your boredom, but seemed to be failing as you felt Neuvillette’s fingers comb through the fur on your back. You basically purred at the affection, before sighing. Furina turned to you and called out to you.

“Mon ange? Are you bored? Well I, Furina, have just the cure!~” She said in a sing-songy tune. After, she waved her hand and in a puff of hydro, Gentilhomme Usher, Surintendante Chevalmarin and Mademoiselle Crabaletta were summoned.

You jumped up, messing up your hat and allowing Neuvillette to fix it, before the four of you jumped up to play. The three swam around you in the air while you followed quickly on the floor, causing the three to laugh. Though, Neuvillette noticed something.

Now, already he and Furina noticed you were smarter than other Otters, being able to understand human speech. You could solve puzzles, and once you had even helped solve a rather hard case! But this was… something else.

Gentilhomme Usher, Surintendante Chevalmarin and Mademoiselle Crabaletta and even Singer of Many Waters could speak… kind of. They had their own little babbly language that only Furina could only understand sometimes, and even then it was rocky. That’s why they mostly acted out their wants and needs with over the top gestures… but you.

An otter.

Could understand them perfectly.

You weren’t the only otter they had been summoned around, but then those otter would run away or stay around in curiosity.

But you could understand everything.

You could understand what a god couldn’t.

And that’s when something inside the Dragon Sovereign clicked.

He had been an avid follower of The Creator. The one Above all. Listening gently to all their false promises of bringing his brethren back. If fixing this world of its problems. He would watch as they only cared for themselves. As they punished anyone who went against them. Punished the innocent. As they lavished in the foods and clothes and jewels bestowed upon them by their followers.

Yet the flowers wouldn’t bloom in their presence. The wind wouldn’t blow gently through their hair. The ground and earth wouldn’t stop its quakes. The water would calm its waves. The lightning wouldn’t slow its descent. The fires wouldn’t lower their flames. The ice wouldn’t smooth over and slow the snow.

In fact, flowers would wilt when around them. The wind would whip into windstorms and the earth would rumble with ferocity. Water would rise to heights uncharted and lightning would strike behind their heels. Flame would rise higher and higher and fill the air with ash and snow would turn to hail, ice turning to sharp points around them.

It was the opposite with their darling Otter. He knew something was… not quite right with them. They always had this feel about them.

The melusine would act weirdly about them. Giving them wider smiles and now that he was thinking about it truly… they seemed to always know what they wanted. Even the Clockwork Meka would bow in their presence. When they swam it was always as though the current would work with them, and fish and other creatures of the sea would always surround them, following behind them… almost like…

A veil.

A veil that matched the one their creator always had on in every art of them.

On any statue.

In any painting.

In any description in every book.

They always had a veil.

And glancing at their beloved otter?

Their blue tuff of fur? They lined their back? Combined with the flowing fabrics of their top hat?

Created a veil.

“Excuse me Wriothesley, me Lady Furina must go discuss something. Please keep an eye on ma moitié for us please.” Neuvillette spoke quickly, gently gripping Furina’s arm as she protested, and they both left the room.

You and the three summons looked at the closing office door, then at Wriothesley. He stared back.

“Uhm… hello there, little otter.”

You only chittered in response.

And as Neuvillette and Furina rounded a corner, the Sovereign pressed a hand to her complaining lips.

“My Lady, firstly, my sincerest apologies for dragging you out here. Secondly, I believe I have made a… shocking discovery about our ˈbābē…” Neuvillette’s voice was hushed, making Furina nervous.

“What.. what do you think you found..?” She asked.

“I believe… our darling Otter… is the true Creator…”

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Hehehehe… How will Furina react to this knowledge? What with Neuvillette do with this information? And will Wriothesley ever get over seeing an Otter so close to his Archon? Tune in next week to find out!~

Anyway, I love this and where it’s going! I haven’t had to write any angst and I feel it coming now! Hehehe ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

* The official Jury Supervisor of the Courthouse of Fontaine . The Otter of the Opera Eclipse

[naffeclipse]

Argentate Bullet

Cryptid Hunter!Reader x Cryptid!Eclipse

Commission Info

I'm so excited to share this wonderful fic commissioned by @rosescarletful involving the cryptid hunter, cryptid Eclipse, and a night under the full moon. A monster lurks somewhere close! This is teeming with angst but such things make the hurt/comfort all the sweeter, I promise <3

Content Warning for angst, blood, body horror, and death.

———

In the dense woods outside of a small, rural town, you and your dear friend begin a hunt. A howl echoes and twigs crack. The silver light of the full moon mottles the forest floor as you follow Moon. His pale eyes flash red—he senses another human. The moment you step foot into a sparse clearing of half-dead meadow grass, your heart sinks.

A young man lies groaning in the darkness, curled up and cradling his chewed arm. Blood drips freely from mangled flesh and bitten sinew.

You should have been here sooner. The cryptid sighting suggested the violent nature of the monster as insatiable, senseless. A ceaseless need for bloodshed only spells ruin and grief for anyone caught in its path. You’ve handled werewolves before. They are perfect killers under the lustrous light of night. But they fall to silver.

Together, you and Moon help the young man to his feet. He babbles about a beast with fangs and yellow eyes. A horrible hunger growled within it. The monster snatched him from the road while he was peddling his bike at the late hour, and dragged him into the woods. Before it could finish him with a snap of its maw, it fled. He doesn’t know why. A sob escapes the young man.

You have no doubt the werewolf sensed the demonic cryptid using the animatronic as a vessel. Your dear friend has scared worse monsters.

You’re lucky you two arrived when you did, but you reassure him that he’s safe now. You set your gun loaded with an argentate bullet into the map pocket of your truck door. Leaning him against the driver’s seat, you quickly rummage for a basic first-aid kit—you curse yourself for not bringing more, but rarely do you find victims of cryptids alive after an encounter and you always endure long enough to reach your airstream.

“It’s going to be okay,” you promise. You hold yourself steady, hiding your fear at the blood seeping from the young man’s arm. He cradles it close to himself. “Can you tell me your name?”

Moon looms beside you, his eyes pale and flashing. He twitches. The end of his nightcap jerks slightly with the spasm of his faceplate.

“W-warren.” The young man swallows. His eyes shine wetly. The blood coating his ravaged arm gleams dark under the moonlight. “My wallet. I lost it by my bike. Please, I have pictures of my mom and dad in it. I need it.”

“Okay,” you soothe as you finally rip open a plastic red container. Bandages immediately roll to one side in your anxious search. “I’ll get it for you after we take you to the hospital. You’re bleeding badly.”

“Please, I need it now,” he gives a ragged gasp. He looks at you, desperation filling his shining gaze as his hands tremble, slick with blood.

Your heart squeezes within you at the familiarity of needing comfort in the height of terror. 

“Moon,” you say.

“It’s still out there,” Moon warns, his hand falling to your shoulder. His long silver and blue digits press into your collarbone. “It’s not safe.”

“I know, sweetie,” you face him. Though he stands much taller, you hold his wide, glowing gaze. “His bike can’t be far. Please, will you get it?”

He stares at you. A cool breeze blows before he releases your shoulder. 

“Be careful,” he warns, then slips around the truck and back onto the faded blacktop, disappearing around a bend following the forest’s edge.

You’ll thank him when he returns. Breathing a stabilizing sigh, you face Warren and ask for his arm. His eyes don’t meet yours for a moment. His attention follows the animatronic slipping into the darkness.

“It’s alright,” you say in a low, gentle voice. “Let me get you bandaged, and as soon as Moon returns, we’ll take you to get help.”

“W-who is that,” Warren asks shakily. His fingers writhe as you support his arm. 

“My friend,” you answer softly. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll take care of the scary thing. It won’t hurt you again.”

“Something isn’t right,” he whispers, terrified.

You lift your head. You fear he might pass out from the blood loss but you find his face turned towards the night sky. The moon hangs clearly in the black cosmos, big and looming like an omen.

“It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” You hurry to tie up the bandage already soaking in crimson.

“No. It hurts.” Warren pushes you away and doubles over, clutching his face and shouting, “It hurts! Stop!”

You step back, hands up, stunned. What did you do? Why is he—

A sickening crack of bone echoes within Warren. You start, horrified, then your mind races.

No, it’s pop culture to believe a werewolf bite transforms another. There has been nothing legitimate within your research to conclude that a bite would be infectious, nor that it would trigger a transformation on the very same night. A human can’t become a cryptid.

He can’t.

Warren groans until his agonized sound slips into a high keen. A vicious growl overtakes him and rattles through your chest despite the distance. Your eyes dart to the Winchester gun stowed away in the map pocket of your truck door.

“Warren,” you say, holding out a hand and stepping closer, “It’s going to be okay—”

“Get away!” he snarls inhumanly. He swipes at you with his hand, now elongated. It bursts with a coat of fur and bears long, wicked claws. You leap out of his reach but stand weaponless.

No. It can’t be.

Warren crumples to the dirt ground. On his hands and knees, his cries of agony lift into a feral howl while the rest of his body bends and breaks. You watch, rooted in horror, as his clothes rip under the bulking strain of his new form while black fur overruns his flesh. Thick, rugged sinew cords his body. His face snaps as his jaw elongates into a muzzle. A flash of yellow eyes pierces you through the darkness. 

“Warren,” you utter. You start slowly stepping towards the bed of your truck, seeking cover—anything to put between you and the newborn werewolf. Your hands are held out. You glance again at your gun but the young man stops howling. 

He slowly lifts his head, sharp ears pinned back against his skull. Lips pull over fangs. A horrid growl stops your heart.

The werewolf hunches low and slowly pads forward. A glinting maw spills saliva. You stare at the poor young man, your pulse racing in your ears. He straightens, towering upon you with hunger glowing within inhuman eyes upon hound-like legs. The moonlight covers him in pale gray.

He lunges. You dive, throwing yourself behind your truck only to catch a wicked snap of teeth inches from your feet. A sharp inhale. Your veins burn with adrenaline. You twist back to find the werewolf rounding back, widening his jaw. He reaches a long limb forward and hooks his claws on the bummer of your truck. Vicious talons rip down the edge of it. You scramble, kicking your legs and crawling backward in your shock.

Swift footsteps cut through the darkness. The werewolf’s ears swivel before he turns a second too late. A flash of limbs, metallic and dripping black and red, knocks into the creature, sending it careening back towards the road until he rolls to a stop in a heap of furry limbs. 

You gasp in a flood of relief. Moon straightens. A wallet drops into the dirt. From out of his slim animatronic chassis, two arms, inky and clawed, spread out defensively over you.

“Moon,” you push yourself off the ground and onto your feet, “It’s Warren.”

“Get your gun.” Moon spares you a glance of bright red optics. “We shouldn’t have left you.”

There’s nothing you can say now. You breathlessly slip back behind your friend, rushing down the length of your truck. Moon’s many limbs writhe as he stares down the monster rising back to his paws with vicious growls.

Passing the claw marks carved into your bumper, you dart for your weapon. Behind you, a snarl rips across the road’s edge. Your heart leaps into your throat. You crash against the door and frantically pry out the Winchester from the map pocket.

The barrel gleams darkly in the moonlight. The smooth, carved handle holds intricate designs in the wood. You check with hands threatening to tremble that it’s still loaded. Hidden within is a shiny silver bullet.

You turn back to face the cryptid. In a powerful leap off his hind legs, the werewolf attacks. Moon lifts his four arms to catch the monster and hold it off, staggering back under the force. The snap of teeth nearly snags Moon’s nightcap and vicious claws swipe nearly slice through his chassis. You straighten, standing solid on your feet, and aim your gun. Your dear friend and the young man now cursed thrash together in a blend of demonic and lycanthropy. 

The werewolf towers over Moon who remains in his vessel, unable to spare a moment to escape the confines of it while fending off the vicious cryptid. You cry out a warning. 

In a heartbeat, the cryptid unbalances Moon, dropping him to the ground with a powerful blow of his large paw. The sharp clank of metal on the dirt freezes your blood. Red-dipped cryptid arms rake over the werewolf. Tufts of fur and flesh tear away but the monster gives no thought to the slashes as Moon unleashes an unearthly growl.

Your hands clench around the gun, pulse racing. The werewolf rears back under the moonlight, teeth exposed, jaws wide, and strikes for Moon’s spindly neck.

You squeeze the trigger. The echoing blast cuts through the night air, and a small hole within the werewolf bubbles blood, spilling down his chest. The werewolf slumps with a gurgle, then silence.

Moon grunts once before four limbs push the carcass off of him. With a meaty thump, the cryptid lies on the dirt, dead. 

You stare. Slowly lowering the gun, you stare unblinkingly. Tears brim your eyes. A haze of silver light and blood pooling underneath the furred cryptid overtakes you.

“Moon,” you say, your voice sounds strange, strained. “He wasn’t a cryptid. He was just bitten. He didn’t—He’s not—”

How can you shoot this monster when he’s just a person caught in very awful circumstances? All your other hunts were simple. They were only cryptids, not victims. 

You didn’t protect him.

You lower your hands. A hollowed coldness seeps into your chest cavity. The animatronic lies still as black ooze slips from crevices and cracks, accumulating into a lithe, towering figure with four limbs. Eclipse straightens slowly, watching you closely with red eyes glowing in the dark.

“Heart,” a deep rumble touches you, familiar and safe, but you shake. “You protected us.”

The demonic cryptid slips closer. His many hands reach for you, one trailing down your wrist before slipping the gun from your quaking grasp.

“He didn’t ask to become this,” your voice cracks.

“You didn’t know.” Two large, cool hands cup your face. Tilting your head up to meet their wide eyes, Eclipse softly growls, “It’s not your fault. If you didn’t stop him, he would have caused more harm. He would have joined the other monster in hurting people.”

Tears spill down your cheeks. You grasp his wrists, fingernails sinking into their dark red and deep blue being.

“I needed to—I should’ve—” you gasp a ragged sound, fighting a sob. “He didn’t deserve to die.”

“You did what was right, heart,” Eclipse’s wide jaw with razor-thin fangs lower to you. A crown of frills and horns tilt softly as they lightly flick a long, oily tongue to your cheek in comfort. “Please, don’t blame yourself. We shouldn’t have left your side. If we had stayed, we could have subdued him before he attacked.”

You cling tighter to their anchoring hold. A soft sound echoes as they set the gun on the truck seat before returning their lower arms to rest on your waist, gathering you close to cradle you against them. 

They bow over you. Four limbs, clawed and full of strength, keep you from falling. You press your cheek against their cool, slick chest. Weeping, you cave into their comfort while a young man lies dead in a form he never could have wanted for himself.

[starcrossedxwriter]

Princess’s Punishment (MBJ x Reader)

A/N: I didn’t have the energy to go back and find the two asks lol but this is a request from two folks for a kinky punishment story with. So enjoyyyy!

Warnings: degradation, name calling, NSFW, lots of kinks (spanking, cockwarming, etc)

***

“What do you think?” You gave her fiancee a model-like twirl so he could examine your outfit from all angles. 

Michael glanced up from his phone and the email he was typing, letting out a low whistle as his eyes swept over your perfect frame. 

“That dress gon’ get you into trouble, Princess.” 

You threw him a coy smile before turning back to the giant mirror in the middle of the store. You were the only customer there, Michael preferring to reserve stores for an hour or two so you could have a private and serene shopping experience. It ensured everyone in the store was solely dedicated to getting you exactly what you needed and wanted. Most stores happily obliged, knowing that anytime Michael brought his princess in, the limit on his card was nonexistent. Today was no different. 

“That looks great on you,” a man offered as he emerged from the back of the store. His dreads were neatly pulled back out of his face. He was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, the exact type of man who would have once turned your head before you met Michael, the love of your life. But no one compared to the literal sexiest man alive in your eyes and that was a fact. 

You had never seen him in the store before but when the woman you typically worked with didn’t return, you realized he would be assisting you. 

“Hope you don’t mind. Jenn had a family emergency. I’m Marcus,” he reached out to shake your hm which you accepted with a bright smile. 

“Nice to meet you. Y/N,” you introduced yourself before turning back to the mirror, your hands running over the luxuriously soft material that hugged your curves. “Not sure this is the most flattering though.” 

“I have another dress in the back, we just got it in. Similar to this one but it’s perfect for you. Will be far more flattering. A body like that… you should show it off.” 

You did not pick up on the obvious flirting in his tone, particularly as that was the farthest thing from your mind. You merely nodded with a smile. “Thank you. That would be great. Can’t wait to see it.” 

“I’ll bring that and a couple other pieces. We technically aren’t supposed to show them yet but for a friend,” he winked at you. “I can bend a few rules.” 

“Really??” You were merely excited about getting an advanced look at your favorite store’s new pieces. 

“Of course. Be right back.” 

“Thank you!” You watched him for a few moments as he walked away before turning to Michael whose face was set in a scowl. “Everyone here’s so nice all the time.” 

“That nigga’s nice cause he wants to fuck you,” Michael grumbled, his tone signaling that he was not as pleased with the service as you.” 

Your jaw fell open before you laughed at the absurdity of the idea. Men rarely flirted with you, if ever. “Come on, baby. Don’t be silly. He wants us to spend money, likely to make his commission better so he’s just being extra complimentary.” 

“Nahhh, I watched him basically undress you with his fuckin’ eyes, Princess. Besides, I’m the one payin’ and nigga didn’t say shit to me. Acted like I’m not even here. I don’t like him.” 

You merely laughed, clearly not realizing that Michael was genuinely upset with the salesman. “Aww my grumpy baby. You don’t like anyone,” you teased before disappearing into your dressing room to try on more outfits. 

Outfit after outfit, you pranced around for your boyfriend and gave him a fashion show. He was thoroughly unhelpful as he loved 95% of the items you tried on and refused to help you narrow down the massive stack of clothes. Anytime you went shopping, he thought you should buy everything you remotely liked, even if you had one exactly like it in the closet at home. 

“What do you think? Don’t need both black dresses,” you muttered more to yourself than either man in the room. 

“You look perfect in both. Just get both.” 

“Not helpful, babe!” 

“I think you should get the one you have on. Shows off your body better.” 

“You commentin’ on her body a lil too much, my nigga,” Michael called out, clearly frustrated by Marcus’ innocent compliments toward you as you finished trying on clothes. 

“Michael!” You whipped your head around in shock at his rudeness. “Sorry, he gets very grumpy when we’ve been shopping too long.” 

“No apologies needed,” he raised his hands in surrender before making an excuse to go to the back of the store to get her something else. 

You scoffed once he was gone, you and Michael having a silent standoff. 

“That was hella rude,” you chastised him. 

Michael merely shrugged “Hella rude for him to openly flirt with my girl in front of me. He bold enough for that shit, he’s bold enough to take the heat.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“Nah and what were you doin’? Flirting back with that nigga.” 

You let out a laugh at the absurdity of that statement. “Flirting back?? It’s called being nice. I only got eyes for one, very jealous man.” 

And with that, you disappeared back into the changing room to put back on your real clothes. You could not understand what was up with Michael as of late. He seemed to be so much more jealous than he used to be lately, snapping or glaring at any man who got too close or talked to you for too long. He had done the same thing at a premiere just last week. You had chalked the first couple times up to him having a bad day but now you wondered if something else was wrong. 

“You ok?” You asked as you both patiently waited for Marcus to package your mountain of clothes and accessories. 

His eyebrow was furrowed with an angry expression on his face. Still packing most of the weight of Erik Killmonger, he looked intimidating to say the least. But you did not understand what he could be that upset about, nothing had even happened. 

He did not answer you, merely handing Marcus his card to finish paying. 

“Need help getting these to your car?” Marcus asked, his hands already preparing to grab the heavy garment bags and smaller shopping bags 

“That would be g-” you started to say when Michael immediately cut you off. 

“Nah we got it.” His short tone made you cringe slightly, Marcus’s face blanching at the rudeness of it. 

He gestured for his security to pick up the bags and grabbed the rest himself before gesturing for you to exit the store. You merely offered a polite thank you before following him out of the store. 

***

As soon as you walked into the house, you started up the stairs to put your new items in their proper spots when he stopped you. 

“Princess!” 

“What’s up, babe?” 

His tone and face looked almost bored as he scrolled on his phone. “When you’re done, assume the position by the counter.” 

Your eyes grew wide with surprise. Assume the position was a clear directive in the Jordan household, one that let you know the relaxing evening you had planned was not going to happen. A sign that you had upset your master, and thus, must be punished. 

“What did I do??” The logical part of your brain was well aware he was not going to tell you. If your infraction was not obvious, he rarely told you what it was until the punishment had started. But as you racked your brain, you could not understand what on Earth you did to upset him. You had a really nice day together and aside from the weird interaction with the sales associate, he seemed fine. Then it clicked in your brain. 

His jealous streak seemed to not have ended earlier, after all. 

“That’s for me to know and you to find out. 10 minutes.” 

He did not spare you another glance before he disappeared toward the living room, leaving you gawking after him on the stairwell.

“Fuck my life,” you muttered as you raced up the stairs. You completely disregarded your original mission of putting your clothes away, you did not have time for that. 

Instead, you stripped down to nothing and pulled your braids out of their high ponytail. You went to your drawer and pulled out the various things you knew were required: your collar and leash, nipple clamps, flogger, blindfold, and ball gag. He did not always use them all and sometimes he used none of them. But that was another thing for him to know and you to find out. 

You descended down the stairs, your entire body almost floating with anticipation. You knew whatever he had planned would be the most delicious form of torture and that he would fuck you senseless once you begged for his forgiveness enough. 

Michael was leaning against the counter, scrolling on his phone as he waited. Ingredients for dinner laid out on the counter. 

“Thinkin’ short ribs for dinner. Cool?” He asked, his voice completely calm and normal despite what you knew was about to happen. The sweet, doting finace who cared what you wanted for dinner would disappear and a new persona would take over. 

“Sounds good. Thanks, babe.” 

“You ready, Princess?” he asked, checking in as he always did before an intense punishment or scene, which you always appreciated. They were punishments but they were supposed to be pleasurable, in a way, for you too. 

“Yes, daddy,” you answered immediately, handing him all the toys you brought with you before sinking down to your knees before him. You spread your legs just enough for your flower to be on display for him, already wet and aching for his rough touch in the mere minutes he left you. The chill of the house caused the hair on your arms to stick up but you ignored it, things would heat up in a few minutes. 

You wanted to smirk as you watched his eyes cloud with lust but you kept your face neutral. Michael was gone and your master stood in front of you. And his perfect, submissive fuck toy replaced you, designed and ready for whatever pain or pleasure he was generous enough to offer. And the growing ache between your thighs revealed a simple truth: you loved every single second of being his slut. 

Your eyes remained trained on the wood panels of the kitchen floor as he silently studied you. The minutes stretched on and on at an agonizing pace but you did not lift your head or move an inch. However, you could not stop the little sigh of relief that passed your lips when you finally saw his feet come into your line of vision. 

His hand wrapped around your throat, your mouth falling open with a small moan as he squeezed. It was not hard, just enough to let you know he was there. More, you wanted to beg. That was the problem, it did not matter what he did. You just wanted more of it and more of him. You were so addicted to the drug that was Michael, it felt like a lifetime supply would not even be enough. 

His hand forced your head upward so you were looking directly into his expressive brown eyes, your favorite part of him. This position could have had you cumming right then. 

All you could think about was how good it felt to have his hand squeezing your throat while you rode his dick. The mere memory made your pussy clench. But that was not in the cards for you… not yet anyway. 

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” He knew everything about his little fuck toy, exactly what his Princess wanted and needed. And there was not a man alive who knew it better. “Such an eager fuck toy for me. That’s why you were tryin’ on all those slutty clothes today? Think you’d get my attention and I’d come back here and fuck you like the attention-seeking whore you are?” He asked as he let go of your throat, much to your sadness, and started circling you. A predator sizing up his prey, indeed. 

You were not foolish enough to answer a single question he levied, they were rhetorical. 

“But I wasn’t the only man whose attention you got. Bet you loved that shit too… his hands on you fixing your outfits, complimenting you. Flirting with him, accepting his help right in front of your master. I should’ve fucked you right there in front of him to remind you that there’s only one man whose attention you should want.” 

The thought of that made your head spin. Him forcing you to your knees in the dressing room, fucking you from behind, claiming you and your body loudly for every person to hear. 

He gently put your collar around your neck, the fur lining made it more comfortable than it would have been otherwise. It was custom, Princess Y/N, embroidered on it. 

“Too tight?” he asked as he attached the leash to it. 

“No master,” you muttered. 

“Good.” 

He tugged on it, forcing you in step behind him. You bit back the moans this caused, him walking you around your living room and kitchen for a few minutes. He knew how much you loved to crawl behind him. It was clear he was trying to ramp you up as much as possible before the punishment truly started. And it was working perfectly. 

By the time you returned to the spot you started at in the kitchen, your knees in pain from the hardwood floor, your body was screaming for his touch. Your core felt painfully empty, you were desperate to feel him on you, inside you. He slid the blindfold over your eyes. 

You whimpered for a moment at the sudden loss of sight, sensory deprivation was a new game for you both and you were still getting used to it. 

“Say the word and the blindfold can come off, Princess,” he whispered. At your nods, he continued. “Face down, ass up. Legs spread. Don’t move a muscle.” 

You adjusted yourself to assume his favorite position. You hissed as your upper body laid against the cool kitchen floor but you made sure the arch in your back was perfect, your ass perched high in the air. Your legs were spread enough for him to see the glistening mess coating your inner thighs. 

“You disgustin’ cum slut. Crawlin’ like a whore made you that wet?” He degraded you, making your entire body shudder as his hands caressed your ass. 

“Yes daddy,” you breathed out, your brain already losing the ability to fully form words. The fog of pleasure was already heavy and he had not even started. “I-I’m sorry.” 

You tensed up sightly, knowing that when you least expected it, his caresses would turn into sharp blows that would make you cry out. However, just as quickly as he started touching you, he stopped. You could not feel his presence around you at all. You had not been given permission to move and you could not see him. You could not even sense where he was anymore. 

Had he left you there? Naked and unable to move like a statue? After a few moments, you heard soft footsteps not far away, causing you to exhale slightly. He was still hovering around. 

Minutes passed by, slower than you thought time could move, as he just left you there without  a single touch or word. But you followed directions, your legs would literally collapse before you moved a muscle. 

Your mind raced to understand why he was not punishing you. And after about 15 minutes of utter silence except for the sounds of him cooking, you longed for it. The sting of his palm, the fire of the flogger against your ass, your thighs, your back, literally anywhere at this point. But there was nothing. This was more of a punishment than the spanking. If you had been given permission to speak, you would have begged for your own torture at this point, would have begged for as many lashings as he felt you deserved for being such a shameless whore. But you could do nothing, nothing but sit with shaking legs in your disorienting haze of pleasure until he decided that you were worth even doling out a punishment on. 

It was clear to you why he chose that particular spot, a spot you knew was visible to him regardless of where he stood in the kitchen. You were on display. 

At that realization, you deepened the arch in your back to something you didn't even know was possible. You had to force yourself not to wiggle your ass in his face, entice him to light it on fire with his strength. 

“Couldn’t even last 15 minutes without daddy’s attention, could you?” You were not sure if you were allowed to answer. “You may speak, Princess.” 

“D-daddy pl-please…” you begged. 

“Didn’t seem to care about me earlier. Why should I give you attention now?” 

“B-Because… I need…” your words failed you. You needed so much in that moment. You needed the pain, you needed the pleasure it brought, you needed to be reminded what you were and whose you were. 

“You need what? Need me to make you cum? You’ll be grateful if I let you cum at all tonight. Need me to fuck you like the cumslut you are? Not sure you deserve my dick. Or you need me to remind you what happens to disobedient fuck toys who anger their masters? Need me to remind you who owns you?” 

“Y-Yes! P-Please… I d-deserve to be punished. I n-need it.” The words barely left your lips before you felt the first blow of the flogger against your ass. “T-Thank you,” you moan, savoring the sting and ache it left behind. 

However, you could not savor it long as he rained them down on every inch of your ass and thighs and a couple well-placed agonizing ones against your pussy that made you scream. You kept count, as was already required. 

“Keep your legs open, slut or I’ll add five more,” he demanded as your entire body convulsed as the flogger caught part of your clit. You forced your body to maintain the position, which took all your willpower. And to think, you begged for this. 

Tears were streaming down your face when he reached 29. That was the most he had ever done with the flogger as it was more painful than his hand and it was torture. However, you took it, the desire to use your safeword never coming to your mind. You would not be able to sit tomorrow but your entire body was on fire, hot, sweaty and desperate for him to fuck the shit out of you. 

When you finally said 30, you were proud of yourself for taking all of it like a champ. 

“That’s a good slut. You should see your ass right now,” he muttered. “So beautiful.” You could only imagine your entire body was completely red and you could feel a couple welts from where he punished you in the same spot over and over again. “You may sit up.” 

You whimpered as you stretched and moved out of your position, your muscles protesting. As you sat up, his hand cupped your cheek and wiped away the few falling tears. 

“Too much?” he asked quietly. 

“No sir. T-thank you for r-reminding me what I am,” you whisper. 

He helped you to your feet, your legs shaking slightly. 

“Let’s watch somethin’ on the tv. Short ribs are slow cookin’.”

Despite the pain in your body, you could not help but smile. This was what made the punishments worth it, this moment. You were happy he let you walk to the couch, giving you a chance to stretch your legs. You stood and watched, licking your lips as he stripped off his clothes before sitting down, his head dripping with pre-cum that made you want to sink to your knees and steal a taste. You licked your lips, longing clearly written on your face that made Michael want to chuckle. He knew how much his Princess loved servicing him on your knees. 

“Don’t even think about it. Worthless cunts who can’t remember who they belong to don’t get a taste. Why?” 

“Because servicing you is a reward and I don’t deserve a reward, daddy,” you mumbled quietly, your voice just as lost and pitiful as you felt. This was the point of punishment though because all you now wanted to do was assure him you were his perfect, obedient princess so you could be rewarded. 

“Good girl. Earn my forgiveness and maybe I’ll fuck that sweet mouth before bed tonight. Now for your punishment…” 

Your eyes grew wide. The last 30 minutes had not been the punishment?? 

Fuck my life. 

“Climb up here and sit on my dick. Facing the tv.” 

You practically catapulted onto his dick without hesitation. Not just because good girls did what they were told without hesitation but because this was your type of punishment. RIding his dick was your favorite pastime.

You slid down on his hard dick, moaning loudly as he filled you to the brim. It was not the orgasm your body desperately needed but it satisfied the overwhelming, blinding carnal need to be filled you felt. You immediately started rocking your hips to increase the friction and pleasure when a powerful and painful swat against your already bruised ass stopped your movements. 

“I didn’t tell your dumb ass to move. Seems like you keep forgetting I own you Princess. This pussy… this body… it’s all mine. And no one else gets to touch what’s mine, no one else controls what’s mine. So you’re gonna sit there on my dick and you’re not gonna move until I tell you to. When I tell you to ride my dick, you do it. When I tell you to stop, you fuckin’ stop. Understand?” 

“D-Daddy please?” you hoped your pleas for mercy and the soft puppy eyes you had on would be enough to soften his resolve. Of all the things he had forced you to do since walking in the house, this was the worst of them. To feel him inside you and be so close to bringing him the pleasure he deserved and you desperately needed but not be allowed to? 

Fuck my life. 

“You should be thankin’ me for even letting your worthless cunt warm my dick. Now sit there and watch the show,” he nodded toward the tv where an episode of both of your favorite anime was playing. 

You moaned and turned around, trying to keep your attention focused on the show in front of you. However, it was impossible. 

This was an utterly new sensation and, while it was torturous, you could not deny that it was pleasurable in its own way. 

Michael’s girth and length was something to be reckoned with and he knew how to use it. His dick perfectly curved into your g-spot and could have you cumming with a few strokes. As you sat on him, his hands occasionally wandered to caress your other pleasure zones. His strong hands massaged your inner thighs causing you to moan. 

You wondered if you could orgasm from just sitting there. You would not because you did not have permission but you wondered if it was possible. Because between his hands and the feel of him inside you, you could think of nothing else. You could feel every inch of him, his dick throbbing and pulsing like a heartbeat against your walls. 

Your body squirmed in his touch, your moans as he played with your body were consistent, particularly when he brushed against your clit. He offered a featherlike touch, it was barely there but you were so worked up, you felt every jolt of pleasure through your body magnified. 

Your pussy clenched around him as if silently begging him to move. But you knew he would not allow you to until he was ready. 

He worked up a rhythm against your clit, your movements becoming more uncontrolled, your breaths heavier. You weren’t gonna last long like this.

“Whose pussy is this, Princess?” 

“Yours, daddy. Only y-yours.” 

“Who can bring you pleasure like your master?” 

“N-No one. J-just you.” 

“Never forget that shit, understand?” 

You nodded fervently. Every punishment had a lesson and this one was etched into your brain matter as now was the feeling of every vein and inch of his dick. 

“I w-won’t! I promise, daddy.” 

He pressed a soft kiss to your bare back, increasing the speed of his fingers. “Cum on my dick, Princess.” 

With permission to cum, you stopped holding back and allowed your body to feel everything. Fuck his fingers knew exactly what buttons to push as your body finally got the pleasure it needed for the last hour. The build up was so fast you barely got to enjoy it but you did not care, you needed the crash, the fall to drown in the pleasure only he could provide. And when you reached the peak, you crashed hard. 

“You like that, baby? You gon’ cum for daddy?” 

“Y-Yes… fuck… t-thank you!” you cried out as you threw your head back as an explosion of pleasure took over every inch of your body. You felt pleasure down to the very cells that made up every part of you. 

You gasped as Michael’s hand wrapped around your long hair and gripped it, pulling you backward. He turned you so his mouth could claim yours, drowning out your moans and cries with a kiss so dominating you never wanted it to end. 

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, causing your heart to soar. “You’ve earned my forgiveness. Ride.” 

You did not need to hear anything else as you started to ride him with abandon, moaning every time his head rammed into your g-spot. You’d cum again before this was over but you made it your personal mission to ensure he did too. You pulled out every trick and play you had in the book until you felt his hands dig into your hips and he started ramming into you. 

You let him take control as he fucked you like a rag doll, ignorning the ache of your bruised ass and thighs as he slammed into them with every thrust upward. He kept you flush to his chest with one hand wrapped tight around your neck, the gentleness of his choking earlier long gone. 

“Where you want it?” he demanded as you felt the signs of him about to cum. 

“Cum inside me, please!” you begged. Michael knew you had a bit of a breeding kink, loving the feeling of him filling you with his cum. That was often another punishment when he would cum on you instead of inside you. Not that him marking his territory was really a punishment. 

“Want me to fill this sweet cunt, baby??” 

“Yes! Please, please!” you begged as he fucked you so hard you felt as if you would be seeing stars for hours. 

You could not stop your body from convulsing as you felt the warmth of his cum surge inside you, you clenched around him. 

Your legs burned as you used your arms, braced on his knees to stop your upper body from toppling forward. He rubbed soothing patterns along your spine to calm you. Michael pushed you to your limit every time but he also knew how to take care of you afterward. 

He lifted you off of him, a slight whimper escaping your lips at the emptiness you suddenly felt. He only sat you down long enough to stand up himself and you were quickly back in his arms, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he carried you up to your master suite. 

He laid you on the bed and got some soothing lotion and started massaging it everywhere the flogger hit you. You shuddered at the cool feeling but it felt heavenly combating the stinging you still felt and soreness you knew you would still feel tomorrow. 

“You did so good for me, Princess,” he offered, your sweet Michael clearly having returned to you. 

That was all you needed to hear, that you had pleased him. 

“Thank you.” Your gratitude was muffled against the comforter of your shared bed. After a few moments of silence, you sat up and glanced back at him. “You know you’re it for me, right? Don’t have eyes for anyone else.” 

“Yea I know… sometimes I just worry…” his voice trailed off. 

You ignored the ache to shift over to him and straddle his waist, his hands resting on your hips. “You’re always reassuring me, sometimes I forget you need that too. You are the greatest thing that ever happened to me. It’s you and me till the end of the line, babe.” You teasingly peppered his face with kisses until he finally smiled and started laughing. 

“You and me, baby.” 

“But anytime you wanna get a little jealous and possessive and it leads to that? Feel free,” you joked, the scene still dominating every space in your mind. At your words, you suddenly became hyper aware of his member pressed against your core and instinctively started grinding on top of him. 

“Princess,” he growled. “This time ain’t about me,” he reminded her. Aftercare was about you and he was committed to it. 

“How much time do we have till dinner?” 

“Two hours.” 

“Enough time for you to teach me my lesson again and then take care of me. Don’t think it quite stuck,” you shrugged nonchalantly, taking on your bratty persona to rile him up. 

You shrieked as he flipped you over onto your back and stood up. Master was back and he was ready to make the most of those two hours.

***

A/N: Thanks for reading!! My requests are open if you have more asks/requests… just know that it takes me a while lol

Drop a comment and let me know what you thought :)

[critterbitter]

Asks and responses under cut!

First to note! THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR THESE ASKS. I REALLY APPRECIATE YALL. That aside, lemme get cracking! @drakeling7413 AWE MAN THANK YOU! I just started playing B2 with a friend (we're... not doing a nuzlocke anymore because we both got full team wiped at Clay's gym. That exadrill's built different man.) But I'm glad to bring back some of that whimsey! @bluemimikyu As an eel defender I am VERY glad to hear that! Good luck with tynamo though, they evolve at a disgustingly high level and they're... well, I don't want to say weak but they're a bit difficult to use against anybody not water or flying, from personal experience. (I love eelektross though. Levitate my beloved...) @ashnesspokemon ADLSKJFLKSDJ THANK YOU!!! I have SO many thoughts about them. We've seen them as rat children. We've seen them as sad old men. Today, I offer you-- gangly teenagers interning at Gear Station and Scheming in the meantime. (Plus elesa! The more I draw her the more I love her, ah... I've always been a sucker for trios. ((looks dead eyed at botw and hollow knight))). I do intend to draw them older later on, but that's a timeline I will Not Nail Down anytime soon hehe. @64s-art-blog Emmet has eel rights, Ingo has lamp rights. (But you're right. He should have thrown eelekrik. The comedic apparel would have been incredible.) @aroacepokefan First of all (points at your user name) AYYY. (Points at this characterization of Ingo). AYYY??? Second of all, thank you I LOVE moles and drillbur's perfect. @asperanna Oh boY OH BOY OKAY SO. I am prrrrobably not gonna draw anymore conventional starters AU cause I have a lot of wips I have to handle of the current comics, BUT Ingo would have a unovan samurott. and then when he gets heebie jeebied into hisui, he would have a HISUIAN Samurrott. And then when the two samurotts meet, they would be like the spiderman pointing meme. But because this is also a sandbox, if you ever wanna run with the hisuian samurott idea please go for it! Free real estate, just remember to credit so I can sneak in and spectate the art. @submasfan SLJLDSFJSLDK TY!!!! I am definitely gonna have to slow down at somepoint so I can work on commissions again (ah... maybe I should open a patreon... to feed myself. hmm.) BUT I APPRECIATE THE EXCITEMENT. The submas brain is real. @magicfeatherbean4 (sweats) This is where I tell you they only appear for like... five lines. BUT YOU SHOULD PLAY BW! I miss the 2d pokemon aesthetic, and BW nails that in the head. ((Its okay we can sit on the sidelines and admire the muppet men do their daily commute within the depths of the train.)) @rudeboimonster I'm so glad you caught the stims! Character consistency is an important rule I hold close to my heart, so seeing people notice the little details I add makes me grin like a loon.

[wehaveimagineshere]

Request for Admin Ren! Could I request a scenario for Halsin to react to his gender neutral crush accidentally saw him shirtless? They're very apologetic & insist on making it up to him while promising to never do it again! Please make it NSFW/explicit! Please delete the first one since I forgot to put my name - eclipse anon

I didn't mean to take so long on this! I got a tattoo last week on my left hand and that put it out of commission for about 5 days, and then I didn't feel good for about 2. But it's here!

Watching Halsin's romance scenes, he's just so sweet. His "I don't want to keep you to myself, I want others to experience being with you" was just ;A;

Also Shadowheart, if you're romancing her, being like "I'd climb Mount Halsin too if given the chance." Girl. Agree.

~*~*~

The Last Light Inn was a bastion. After crawling through all manner of locations, having a place with a nice bed and a hot bath was a godsend. With Thorm gone and the curse finally lifted, you were sure the surrounding areas, once they started to heal, would just add to the comfort of the place.

Tonight would be the last night you slept in the beds here before finally heading back home to Baldur's Gate. You'd seen the last of the tiefling band off the day before, crossing off the second to last thing on your list.

The last was what you'd come here for, standing in front of Halsin's door, bottom lip between your teeth and knuckles posed to knock. With his friend back in one piece and the land finally allowed to heal...

There was nothing to keep Halsin around. He'd done what he set out to do, to help with. The thought of him taking off back to the grove...

Taking a deep breath, you push back the uncertainty and knock. The countless conversations by the fire had to have meant something. The openness and ease of being around him had to be twofold. Right?

Hearing a muffled reply, you turn the knob and enter. "Halsin, I was hoping to--"

Arms crossed, body leaned against the wall by the window, his eyes meet yours with a smile. "Welcome. I didn't expect you so late." Pressing off the wall, his arms drop. "What can I do for you?"

You barely hear him, however, as your eyes take note of the fact that the moonlight filtering through the tempered glass is hitting bare skin, highlighting the dips and planes of his chest, his abdomen, the contrasting shadows teasing the shape of the V that leads down--

Straightening, face flaming hot, you find a very interesting divot in the floor. "I didn't realize-- I must've misheard you when you answered!" Daring a peek at his face before your eyes dart away to the small nightstand, you fear you might melt onto the floor. "I'll be more careful next time! Won't happen again!" Should you leave? Should you announce that you'll leave? Would that make things more awkward?

There's a pause, an agonizing quiet that causes anxiety to climb up your throat. Finally, when you fear you're going to say something extremely stupid to break the silence, you hear him speak. "What are you talking about? I said you could come in."

Exhaling through your nose, you debate explaining and embarrassing yourself further or just saying what you came to say. You pick the latter. "Well. Halsin." Catching his gaze and pointedly keeping yours from straying, you say, "I was wondering what your plans were."

Surprise lights his eyes. "I was wondering that myself." Taking a step toward you, he adds, "I was hoping you would give me the honor of accompanying you."

Relief makes your knees weak. You're sure it shows in your face, the way Halsin's expression softens. "Thank goodness. I was wondering how I was going to strongarm you into staying."

That familiar chuckle makes your stomach flip flop. "Sorry to disappoint." His face smooths as he looks at you, eyes darting between your own before dipping down as if outlining your features. Outlining your lips.

You unconsciously wet them in response.

His adams apple dips, eyes rising back up. "There was something else I wanted to bring to your attention."

"Anything."

That smile that can, and does, make your knees weak flashes your way. "You are extraordinary." He takes another step closer. "I have lived a very long time. I have taken many lovers." Your heart starts pounding. "My heart does not stir lightly." He can hear it, you're sure he can. "But it does now."

"Halsin," you say quietly, half in question.

His eyes don't stray from yours. "I want more than to fight at your side, or sit around the campfire with you. I want to lay with you under the stars and feel your skin against mine."

Your heart is going to burst out of your chest.

"I think you feel the same way."

Gods, you're going to implode.

"But tell me I'm wrong, and the matter can rest. I do not wish to sour our friendship, but I have to know if it can be something more."

"Halsin," you repeat, swallowing hard. Your answer is barely above a whisper. "It can definitely be something more."

His face lights up, hands reaching out to gently touch your arms as he draws closer. "Thank you. For giving me the chance to experience you, to be at your side."

The smile tugs free, drawing your lips up to mirror his as you slide your hands behind his neck, interlacing your fingers to hide the nervous tremor. "I should be saying the same to you." You pause, building your courage to hedge, "I need to make it up to you."

His hands sit solidly upon your hip bones, his chest brushing yours. "For what?"

"For earlier. Coming in without approval."

"But I--" Brows furrow before they rise, a slow grin playing about his lips. "How do you plan to make it right?"

It was a question with many layers. Teasing, but his eyes were watching for any hesitation, any uncertainty.

He would find none.

Rising onto your tiptoes, you hover your lips just centimeters from his, nerves morphing into a fragile courage. "I have ideas."

His fingers flex, digging not ungently into your hips as he draws you even closer. "And I have many for you," he answers, voice deeper and huskier as you notice his attention shift a moment before he bridges the gap.

His kiss is tender but demanding, obvious restraint in his actions as his tongue asks for entrance, his fingers once again flexing. You comply, opening yourself to him as he languidly explores your mouth, caressing your tongue and nibbling gently on your lips.

His hands lower, finding the top of your thighs before sliding onto your behind, fingers kneading. An inhale finds yourself leaning against the wall -- curiosity of how you got there dying as quickly as sparks -- and you dare to lift your leg, hooking it around his hips and drawing him closer.

So close you can feel his arousal, the ache pressing against your own.

You swallow down the moan as he shifts, grinding against you as a hand grips your thigh around him tight to keep you in place. Another careful thrust has you hearing nothing but the blood in your ears, gasping for breath as he leaves your mouth to explore your neck. Sharp, quick bites against your skin caressed by warm licks rockets your pulse into a rhythm you fear will send you into cardiac arrest.

Somehow your fingers have ended up in his hair, gripping for dear life. When he grabs your other leg and hoists you up so your only rock is him, making you squeeze him closer to you or risk a fall, his erection rubbing in all the right places even over your clothes, you're not sure when you last took a breath.

A hand digs into your ass as another slides up and over, drawing between you two. The moment his fingers press against your aching parts is when you finally shutter out a moan.

Teasing, exploring, he prioritizes learning every touch that gets you to react, cataloguing every moan and hitch of breath. His mouth continues its journey along your chest, your shirt an irritating obstacle that you both quickly discard.

A nipple is immediately between his teeth, pressing gently but hard enough to smart, his tongue sending the pain into zings of pleasure. His hand between your legs leave just long enough to tug at your pants.

Wrestling back control of your body, you press against his shoulders. He straightens immediately, but before he can ask anything you shake your head, hand dragging down his abdomen until your fingers find their mark.

You palm him over his pants and you feel his breath hitch. Moving down then up, you watch his expression, watch as his eyes shudder and grow misty. Moving to unlatch one leg, you find instead your knee lifted in denial. Hazel eyes flare as you catch his gaze, a smile lifting his lips a moment before he crushes them against yours, a hand tossing the one against his erection aside as he instead presses hard against you, the friction of the fabric sending you both into absolute messes as grunts and groans intermingle.

It's not enough.

He lets you go just long enough to let your pants join your shirt before he hoists you up again, his cock free and pressing against your skin. With a look from him and a nod from you, he spits into a palm, pumps himself to mix the spit with his precum, and lines himself up.

He's slow, letting you adjust as he slowly sheaths himself bit by bit, your nails clawing at his shoulders and your head thrown back. By the time he's at the hilt, your legs are shaking and your hips shift, the movement sending lightning through your veins.

Another nod from you and he sets the pace.

Slow, gentle, making sure you're comfortable. Each slide in and out shredding your self control, any amount of shame as your hips demand a faster pace. Lips lock and tongues dance as you both feel that aching pressure build, his sweat making it hard to grip his skin so you fist his hair instead, his hands squeezing your ass in response.

His pace becomes erratic, sloppy, and you know he's reaching the peak. You are too, every thrust hitting that sweet spot, driving you closer and closer to that edge.

He mutters something, maybe your name, and you both come undone. Gripping you tight, he slams one last time into you as he moans, cock twitching as he fills you to the brim. You cry out as stars explode behind your eyes, tearing your body apart in the climax. All you can do is claw weakly as your body shudders.

When you fall back to earth, you're aware of his forehead pressed against your shoulder, your slick bodies pressed together in a caress. Running a hand up and down his back, you lean your own head against his.

"That was..." you find yourself trying, and failing, to articulate, breath beginning to even out.

A deep chuckle vibrates through your bones. "I know." He inhales slowly, leaning back enough to press his forehead against yours. "You are incredible."

The shy smile you respond with seems almost silly.

Wrapping his arms across your back, he steps away from the wall and toward the bed. Laying you down gently, reverently, his eyes drinking in every inch of skin revealed to him, you watch as his eyes darken once more. "We have all night."

Another invitation, another statement with questions.

Unhooking your legs from his hips, you shakily sit up, hand pushing his chest, your shy smile growing to something more sly as he allows you to press him against the bed. Letting your eyes roam over his body as you're now the one above, you watch his face as you move lower, lower. "Allow me to repay the favor," you whisper, taking his still hard cock in your hand and giving it a lick.

As he said, you have all night.

[wingsofhcpe]

SOLD OUT- ART & WRITING COMMISSIONS! ♡

[please look at the images & text below for detailed info]

Okay so, summer is here and I am still a jobless student. I've also been accepted into a student exchange programme that I'll go to come September, and as there will be a lot of expenses to cover (and I also wanna help my mum make some ends meet if I can), I'm opening commissions to save some money. The basic information, as is on the images, is the following:

No bigotry (should be obvious, but alas).

No NSFW in art commissions because I lack the skill, mild NSFW in writing commissions is absolutely fine.

NO AI will be involved in either process, and if you ask me to use AI in any way I will reject your commission.

For art, each extra character is +50% of the original price.

For writing, the fandoms I'll certainly do are: The Musketeers, AoT, Genshin, Fe3H and Grishaverse, but if you have some other fandom in mind that I'm familiar with, you can always ask me.

In both art & writing, I will require 50% of the payment up front before I start, and at this time I'll only be accepting payment via IBAN (since I can't transfer money from PayPal to my bank, but I need the money to be there in order to have quick and easy access to it).

At this time, six slots are open, and one has already been reserved by a friend.

If you want to commission me or simply have a question, feel free to DM me!

More examples of my art can be found on my Instagram (@/cinnammontea) and examples of my writing can be found on my ao3 (same name as here, wingsofhcpe)

Even if you cannot commission me at the time (absolutely valid!), please like & reblog this post so it can gain some traction! Thank you so much 💖

SPOTS:

1. [reserved]

2. [reserved]

3. [reserved]

4. [reserved]

5. [reserved]

6. [reserved]

7. EXTRA SPOT- [reserved]

[spenglersglasses]

✨🧪MASTER FIC LIST☄️✨

Complete List of links and tags for works posted on AO3!

Click on the name of fic to read! If you don't see something you are interested in, please feel free to send an ask when open as well as commission me through the heart mug site. Link in pinned post on main blog @copiousloverofcopia or carrd info at the bottom of this post!

Updates:

I will be adding more as I go. Check them out if you’re into Egon Spengler, Weyoun, Milton Dammers, Herbert West (like all Jeffrey Combs content lol), fluff and smut, you know all the things lol. Fics are listed by main Character featured in them, if it's a duo fic then the fic is listed under BOTH of them.

Asks/Requests- OPEN

Commissions- OPEN

Egon Spengler

Multi-Chapter Works:

🧫Observations in Love (ONGOING) >>> Egon & OC Molly Webber Things have fallen on hard times for the members of the Ghostbusters when the memory of saving the world from the threat of supernatural destruction fades in the minds of the city. Now, with each of them going their separate ways, Egon joins up with another scientist to share a lab so he can continue his experiments. When an innocent mistake by his lab mate leads to a mix up that could mean big consequences for Egon, he must choose whether or not to reveal the truth to Molly, the test subject or keep it secret forever. (NSFW-Fluff/Romance/Accidental Lovers/Pregnancy/Semi-canon following)

One Off Works:

The Twinkie Experiment No turning back now, you had already agreed to it. Agreed to whatever it was the dear former Ghostbuster and his newfound friend from Arkham would ask of you. You were more than happy to participate, that was until you took the first step onto the stoop leading to the lab. Only then you hesitated—breath quickening and your nerves firing from all sides. (NSFW-Breeding/Pregnancy/Three-way/Reader)

Weyoun

Multi-Chapter Works:

☄️Diplomacy (ONGOING) >>> Weyoun & Chercut Ara (Reader) As a Bajoran crew member of Deep Space Nine you know you should loathe the Dominion and their diplomat Weyoun. Despite everything, you are drawn to him and though you have tried to deny it everything changes when he comes to you with a proposition. (NSFW-Enemies to Lovers/Romance/Angst/Breeding/Pregnancy/Reader)

Milton Dammers

Multi-Chapter Works:

🕯️An Unlikely Pair (ONGOING) >>> Dammers & OC Zoey Weston Special Agent turned paranormal private investigator; Milton Dammers has mysteriously risen from the dead (after the events of the film), finding himself in a body bag in the morgue of the Fairwater Medical Center. Dammers has no idea of how he got back just glimpses of a woman dressed in black, haunting his mind. Now years after his mysterious return to physical form, he has continued his investigations into the occult and spiritual disturbances of the quiet town with the help of Frank Banister, who has become an unlikely friend. When one fateful meeting puts Zoey Westin in his path, Milton's life and changes forever. (NSFW-Romance/Angst/Pregnancy/Paranormal/Gore/Violence)

Herbert West

Multi-Chapter Works:

💉Playing God (Coming Soon!) >>> Herbert West & Danielle Cain When Miskatonic University medical student Danielle Cain rents a room to a newly transferred classmate Herbert West, upon his transfer from Switzerland her life turns upside down. Turns out West is a bit of a mad scientist, wanting to create life—at any cost. (NSFW-Angst/Romance/Gore/Violence/Horror/Breeding/Gender-swapped Dan/Semi-canon following)

One Off Works:

The Twinkie Experiment No turning back now, you had already agreed to it. Agreed to whatever it was the dear former Ghostbuster and his newfound friend from Arkham would ask of you. You were more than happy to participate, that was until you took the first step onto the stoop leading to the lab. Only then you hesitated—breath quickening and your nerves firing from all sides. (NSFW-Breeding/Pregnancy/Three-way/Reader)

If you would like to commission me or check out my other social media, please see my carrd linked below:

(*carrd is linked to my main blog on Tumblr @copiousloverofcopia)

[fernaldoishere]

Commissions Status: OPEN

Opening up commissions to try to save up to meet my friends! As well as helping with my transmasc transition! If you're interested, please DM me on here! I'll give you my Discord info and then we can go from there!

Before commissioning me, please read my TOS, it includes what I can and cannot draw and some optional forms!

I'm currently only accepting Venmo, but I'll be setting up a Cashapp soon, so I'll edit this post when that's available!

Retweets or recommendations would be greatly appreciated!!

[dirtywrestling]

The Vampire at the Masquerade Ball - Drew McIntyre (18+)

Commission: @thepalaceofmelanie

Pairing: Vampire!Drew Mcintyre x  Melanie

Summary: Going to a masquerade ball with your friend and running into a handsome man named Drew Mcintyre who has a secret.

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Talking about ex boyfriends, Past relationships, Vampire x Female!Reader, Vampire!Drew Mcintyre, Foul Language, masquerade ball, Minors DNI

Word Count: 3,818

Follow My Backup Blog!: @dirtywresling102

I looked at myself in the mirror, my black dress was a bit snug on me, but not in an uncomfortable way. My curled hair rested over my shoulders, my make up was freshly put on not long after doing my hair. Grabbing the silver glittery mask I placed it on my face, tying it behind my head. 

“Damn dude, you look good.” Peyton giggled, fiddling with her ear rings. “I’m sure you’ll forget about-”

“Please.” I interrupted her. “Please, don’t bring him up.” I begged. Truth be told, I didn’t even want to go to this masquerade ball, but Peyton’s father was throwing it for his business and she insisted that I attend it with her. I’ve been cooped up in my apartment ever since my ex dumped me for another girl. I found out that I was basically his side woman. He’s been talking to this other female half of our relationship over snapchat, they met on instagram I found out later on. We got this apartment to take our relationship to the next step but he left me with all of the bills. 

“Anyways, you look hot as hell. I’m sure you’ll meet someone at the ball.” Peyton smiled, handing me my black high heels.

“Or let’s hope that there’s an open bar so I can drink.” I murmured under my breath as I slipped into my heels. 

“Oh Melanie, of course there will be an open bar.” She teased. “But I don’t want to see you drinking your sorrows away, I want you to find a nice guy to dance with, exchange numbers and who knows, start a new life with?” Peyton thought out loudly.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” I looked at myself in the mirror one last time.

Peyton sighed, “If you insist, then fine.” She handed me my purse. “Let’s go, the limo is outside.” 

Locking up my apartment, Peyton and I took the elevator down to the lobby and headed towards the limo.

Sitting in the backseat of the limo, Peyton grabbed two crystal glasses and a bottle of champagne. “Something for us to get started on.” She wiggled her eyebrows. I couldn’t help but to give her a little smile. “There’s that smile, now,” She popped open the bottle, champagne quickly bubbled from the top and poured into the glasses. “Let’s party!” She handed me my glass and I took a sip of the rich alcohol. Finishing the drink in one gulp, I swayed the glass in front of her, wanting more.

“Okay, okay. I got the hint.” She rolled her eyes, pouring more of the creamy liquid. “Easy on this stuff, I don’t want you drunk before we get there.” Peyton put the bottle back in a bucket full of ice, letting it chill. 

Arriving at the building, the chofer parked the limo, climbed out and opened the door closest to the entrance. “You ladies have a wonderful night, Peyton just text me and I’ll come and get you two when you’re ready to be taken home.” 

“Thank’s Al, you’re the best.” She giggled, kissing the older gentleman’s cheek. A bright blush appeared on Al’s cheeks, clearing his throat he closed the door and got back into the driver’s seat. “Let’s party!” She squealed, rushing up towards the doors. 

“Let’s just get this over with.” I signed myself, following Peyton to the door security was there blocking it. 

“Name?” The tall security guard asked, his voice deep.

“Fuck you, that’s who.” Peyton spat, sticking out her tongue she walked past the two. 

My face heated up from Peyton’s behavior. “My apologies, she gets like this when alcohol is in her system.” 

“It’s okay ma’am, you and Peyton can go right in.” A smaller male opened the door for us. Walking through the doors, I looked over my shoulders, seeing the smaller security guard talking to the larger one, probably explaining who Peyton was and who her father is. 

Catching up to Peyton I panted softly, I forgot how hard it was to walk in heels. “Peyton, you can’t treat people like that.” I told her, but she of course wasn’t listening. She was lost, looking at the sea of people in front of us. “What? What is it?” I asked, adjusting the mask on my face. 

“Do you see all of this fresh meat here?” She was basically licking her lips.

“Don’t address them like that.” I said a bit weirdly at how her eyes dilated and how her mouth was basically watering over how many men were in one room. “Come on! Let’s go have some fun!” She giggled, wrapping my hand and rushed me towards the crowd. 

It felt like hours went by, Peyton introduced me to so many men in the building. Some weren’t interested, some were too interested and others were interested in Peyton. Now sitting on a bar stool sipping some fruity cocktail, I lost Peyton awhile ago, some guy she was trying to introduce to me got her attention and they ran off together in the crowded dance floor. 

Music played throughout the speakers, people came and others left with someone they met from here. “Hey Melanie!” Turning my head slightly I saw Peyton swaying, leaning up against a tall handsome male with a cute smile. “This is Jordan.” 

“It’s Jake.” The man named Jake arched his eyebrow, looking down at her. 

“Whatever, anyways, Jacky and I are leaving, you can get a ride home right?” She slurred her words, her breath smelt of alcohol. 

“Well, uh actually-”

“Great! Text me tomorrow, I want to know all the details from tonight when you hook up with that lucky man.” She giggled, leaning against the male named Jake. “Let’s go Jack.”

“It’s Jake.” He reminded her once again.

“I said let’s go!” She barked. 

With that, Jake basically carried her out of the building. Facing the bar again someone caught my eye, looking to my left I saw a male in a tight white button up shirt and a black mask that looked like it didn’t need any strings to be on his face, it fitted him perfectly, he had long dark hair that passed his shoulders. “To a night of partying.” I raised my glass to him and downed it. 

The handsome stranger gave me a sly smile, raising his glass of liquor and downed it in one gulp as well. Tearing my eyes away from him, I slid off of the stool and started to walk around, trying to find a bathroom. Finally spotting the bathroom signs, I started to make my way through the crowd, squeezing past people and apologizing. People kept dancing around, someone accidently pushed me into another person. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” I apologized quickly to the gentleman with the silver mask tied around his face. 

“Melaine? Is that you?” 

Turning to the stranger again my heart sank, I recognized those eyes anywhere. “Dean?” I wheezed, feeling very uncomfortable being around him. “What uh, what are you doing here?” I asked, looking around to see if he was with the girl he cheated on me with.

“I’m here with a few friends.” He shrugged. “Look, I just wanted to say… I’m sorry.” He swallowed, looking down and looking back up at me.

“What?” I blinked at him, I wasn’t expecting to run into him tonight, especially wasn’t expecting an apology. 

“She was uh… Catfish.” He murmured shamefully. “It was actually a fifty-four year old male who was using his friend’s nieces’ pictures.” 

There was an awkward pause, people around us kept dancing and drinking, music played through the big speakers. “Well, uh I’m sorry to hear that.” I fidgeted with my fingers, not sure if it was due to anxiety by him or if it was because I had to use the restroom.

“Take me back.” Dean grabbed my hand, holding it tightly. 

“What?” I couldn’t help but to laugh, he had the nerves to say that after what he did to me and not to mention I’m stuck in a lease for a whole year. “No.” I tried to pull my hand back, away from him.

“I know what I did was terrible but you need to understand-” His grip on my wrist became tighter as I winced from the strength. 

“I understand that you’re a pig, a man whore.” I spat, my blood pumping, it felt like fire was flowing through my veins. “Now let go!” I snapped, trying to push him away.

“Okay, I deserve that but please just listen to me.” He begged, trying to get me to calm down and talk to him.

“No Dean, you’re hurting me and you cheated even if you were getting catfished you still left me.” I clenched my fist, his nails digging into my flesh.

Dean stepped closer to me, now letting go of my wrist he wrapped his arm around my waist, trying to pull me closer to him. I placed my hands on his chest, trying to push him away and get out of his grip. “Stop fighting it, Melanie.” Dean hissed, “Dance with me, you’ll soon realize how much you’ve missed me.” His breath smelt of heavy liquor, he’s probably been drinking all night.

“Dean, you’re drunk. Let me go!” I demanded, using all of my strength to get my drunk ex off of me.

“I think she said she’s not interested anymore, mate.” A thick voice spoke. Dean and I both looked at the stranger. I smiled weakly seeing it was the male from the bar, I was surprised he had an accent so thick.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is any of your business.” Dean snarled towards my savior. 

“Listen, pal.” The mystery man straightened his back and squared up his shoulder, obviously appearing a lot taller than Dean. “You best bet, leave her alone or else.” His accent was a bit heavier in a much more serious tone. 

Dean looked back at me, his eyes a bit darker, his face red with anger that some guy interrupted his work on winning me back. “This isn’t over.” Dean huffed, turning his heel. Dean walked past the tall hero, making sure to roughly collide his shoulder into the stranger. The stranger didn’t budge from the rude force. 

Watching Dean walk away, I looked up at the tall stranger. “Thank you.” I sighed, running my hand through my hair.

“Drunk guy trying to hit on ya?” The male from the bar teased me.

A smile tugged at my lips, I looked down and shook my head. “Try ex-boyfriend wanting to get back together.” I rubbed my achy wrists where Dean grabbed me.

“Oh that’s even worse.” We both laughed. “But, you’re welcome. If I was your boyfriend I wouldn’t have let you get away.” His eyes landed on my wrist. “Is your wrist okay?”

My cheeks became hot, biting my lip and clearing my throat a bit. “Melanie.” I stuck out my hand for him to shake. “My wrist will be alright, thank you.”

“Drew.” He introduced himself, taking my hand in his. He placed a kiss on the top of my knuckles. His hand cool to the touch making me break out in goosebumps, but I paid no mind to it. “Melaine, would you care to dance?” 

I didn’t even realize it was a slow song until he said something, people around us were up against each other, swaying to the soft beat that was pouring out from the speakers. The bathroom wasn’t my priority anymore and plus I forgot. “I- I’d love to.” I smiled up at him.

Drew stepped closer to me, grabbing my hand and placing his free hand on my waist while my hand was on his shoulder. We swayed and spun around to the beat of the song that was playing. “So what was that at the bar?” He raised his eyebrow out of curiosity. 

A blush appeared on my cheeks. “I guess I was just feeling loose, I was a bit upset that my friend ditched me but I don’t really know. That was the alcohol talking, I’m sorry.”  

Drew let out a hearty laugh. “Don’t worry about it, I thought it was cute.”

Looking up at the Scottish man I thought about Peyton’s comment about finding a new man and settling down with, Drew could possibly be the man I was looking for. “You remind me of someone I lost a long time ago.” I watched his eyes trace my appearance. 

“Oh I’m sorry, did you lose a sister?” I asked, tilting my head to the side. It felt as if it was only him and I in the room. 

“My wife actually.” He frowned. “She was stabbed.” His hazel eyes traced over my face.

“I’m so sorry.” I looked up at him, his eyes becoming a bit glossy. 

“Don’t worry about it, it happened years ago.” He swallowed, pulling me closer to his toned body and twirled us around, passing other couples. 

“You’re a really great dancer.” I decided to change the subject so he wouldn’t be sad anymore.

“Years of practice.” He flashed a smile. Gasping I swore I saw his top two canine teeth sharper than before. 

“Your- Your teeth.” I blurted out, blinking. My heart hammered in my chest, I knew I wasn’t that drunk to be seeing things. 

Drew swallowed thickly, his body stiffer than before. “My teeth, what about them?” He laughed, my eyes darted back to his sharp pointers and they were back to normal. His eyes roamed my neck, licking his lips to see my vein throbbing in my neck. “Scared I’m going to bite, Melanie?” He chuckled, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on my neck. 

“N- No.” I choked out, it must have been the alcohol I consumed earlier, making me see things. My eyes flutter shut as I tilted my head to the side, allowing him to nuzzle into my neck.

“Good girl.” He growled, his fangs growing, grazing against my skin. My eyes widened, I quickly placed my hands on his shoulders and pushed him away, seeing his long canines attract back to their normal size.

“What- What the hell are you?” I quickly took a step back, nearly stepping into the couple dancing by us.

“Melanie, wait. Please let me explain.” He begged, reaching out for me.

“Don’t touch me, you monster.” I hissed, taking another step away. Drew frowned at that word. Everyone around us stopped dancing, staring in our direction.

Turning on the balls of my feet I quickly started to walk towards the exit, pushing past people the best I could. Stopping in my tracks to see Drew right next to the exit door, grabbing me and holding me tight.

“Get off! Let me go!” I cried out, about to scream but he covered my mouth with his hand and pulled me into the nearest closet. It seemed like nobody noticed as everyone went on with the dance.

“Would you listen to me!” He snapped, his eyes darker than usual. “I’m not a monster, well, in other people’s eyes I am but I swear I’m not.” 

“Then what are you?” Silents broke out in the small room filled with extra items that they might need and cleaning supplies. “What are you-”

“A vampire, okay?” Drew finally spoke.

“A vampire?” I reassured. 

“Yes, a vampire.” He confirmed, letting go of me. 

“Like… Can’t go out in the sun, garlic kills you and wooden stakes-” I stopped talking. “Your wife?” I frowned. 

“Well, the whole garlic thing is a myth but wooden stakes, yes. That’s what killed my wife.” His hazel eyes now staring at the floor. 

“What are you doing here then?” Fixing my mask upon my face as it was slightly slipping.

“Honestly, trying to find a date.” He confessed, his fingers now fiddling with each other as if he was now shy or at least not comfortable about confronting why he was here tonight. “A buddy of mine told me to get out there again.” He scoffed. “And then I saw you at the bar.” He looked up at me, his eyes not as dark anymore, pushing a strand of my hair out of my eyes. He smiled softly. “You were so beautiful sitting there.” He breathed out, stepping closer.

“What’s going on with your fangs?” I asked, arching my eyebrow.

He sighed. “I can hear your heart pounding. It was pounding so fast when you were arguing with your ex I thought it was going to explode.” He chuckled. “I can smell your blood pumping in your veins, too.” Drew swallowed thickly, looking away. “Sorry, I shouldn’t talk about this.”

“If it makes you feel any better my friend dragged me here to look for someone too. Maybe… It’s meant to be?” My eyes looked over at him, hoping he felt the same.

He scoffed at my words, which made me feel so little all of a sudden. “You want to be with a vampire?” 

“What’s wrong with that?” I asked, offended that he didn’t like the idea I suggested.

“You really want to just sleep all day, only go out on dates during nights and never have garlic on pizza?” He teased the myth of what people think vampires were al about.

“I already sleep all day, I work nights and I’m allergic to garlic.” I scrunched up my nose remembering the time I was rushed to the hospital after eating a food with garlic cooked inside.

“You really wouldn’t mind?” Drew asked, his face becoming softer yet confusion still written on it. “You do realize I feed on blood, right?” 

“So you kill people? That’s hot.” I wiggled my eyebrows of course in a teasing manner.

He blushed, scratching the back of his head. “Well, not really. Animal blood.” 

“That’s what I thought.” I giggled, patting his scruffy cheek. “You aren’t a big bad vampire like you say you are.” 

Drew smirked slightly, stalking towards me. “Oh honey, you don’t know what you’re in for.” Drew grabbed at my wrists and pinned them against the wall. A small whimper left my lips as my back collided with the wall, if I could truly focus I slightly heard the music playing on the other side. 

“Then why don’t you show me?” My voice slightly lower and sultry, pushing my hips up against his growing loin, a low groan escaped his lips. 

Drew growled lowly at my actions, planting his lips against mine. Clenching my fists, I tried to get out of his strong grip. Moaning against his lips, I parted my mouth slightly letting his tongue explore my mouth. “Hmm fuck, Drew.” 

“Fuck, my cock is so hard for you alrready, baby.” He groaned. Drew unbuckled his pants, pulling the black leather from the loop holes he wrapped the leather strap around my wrists. “You’re going to behave for me, aren’t you?” He tightened the belt around my hands. Drew ripped his white shirt open, tossing it somewhere in the small room.

“Yes.” I panted, licking my lips. Drew pushed his black slacks down his muscular legs along with his tight boxers. His cock sprung up, hitting his toned lower stomach. Drew picked me up with ease, my back still pinned against the wall. He pulled my dress upwards. Wrapping my legs around his waist I felt his bare cock head rubbing against my clothed pussy, my panties becoming more damp from the friction.

“You ready baby?” He smirked, peppering kisses all over my neck.

“Yes.” I spoke breathlessly. Drew reached in between us, pushing my panties to the side while guiding his cock against my entrance and slowly pushed the tip of his cock in between my folds. “H- Holy fuck.” I squealed, his length stretched me out in the process. My hands gripping onto his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh.

“Fuck baby you’re so tight.” Drew grunted, kissing my jaw line, trying to get me to relax against him. “Are you alright?” His words were in a low murmur.

“Please, just fuck me.” I begged, arching my back off of the wall, trying to push myself against his toned body and pushing my hips against him to get his cock further.

A sly smirk appeared on Drew’s lips as he shoved the rest of his cock into my pussy with one swift thrust. A scream escaped my throat as he started to thrust into me at a fast pace. Drew dug his nails into my waist as he slammed his cock faster into me. Loud thumps echoed throughout the small room as my hips hit up against the wall. 

“Oh my god, Drew.” I moaned out, my welldone hair for the evening now becoming a mess and out of place.

“Fuck, Melanie.” A low moan came out of Drew’s mouth, looking at my facial expression. His jaw dropped slightly, gritting his teeth. “You want to be mine?” He grunted, skin slapping against skin rang through my ears with each pumping thrust.

“Yes!” I blurted out, my eyes rolling in the back of my head before fluttering shut.

“Say it.” Drew’s voice became more gravellier, it wasn’t until this moment I realized he had a Scottish accent. 

“I want to be yours!” I screamed, trying to break free from the restraints around my wrist. “Please, Drew, I want to be yours!” 

Drew leaned forward, his teeth grazing against my neck, his teeth sinking into my flesh. A cry left from my throat as he marked me. “I’m going to come!” I warned him, my walls fluttered tightly around his cock. 

“Come on my cock baby, let me feel your juices.” Drew slammed his cock harder into my pussy, rubbing against my g-spot. 

“Gah! Fuck!” My body shook and stomach tightened as I reached my climax, gushing on Drew’s cock. Drew panted heavily, shooting his come inside my creamy pussy. 

“Oh fuck, Melanie.” Drew slowly pulled out, his cock covered in the clear coating. “Fuck.” He chuckled at how much of a mess we made. 

“Sorry, it’s uh, it’s been awhile.” I smiled weakly. “Uh, did you bite me?” I swallowed. Drew helped take the belt off around my wrists.

“Yeah, but I didn’t change you.” He chuckled. “I don’t think you’re ready for that.” He started to get dressed, tucking his white button up shirt into his black pants. Drew picked up my phone, unlocking it and typed away. Handing me back my device he smirked. “Text me some time, yeah?” 

With that Drew walked out of the small sex smelled closet we fucked in. My heart was pounding, fixing my hair and my mask I put my shoes back on and wobbled out of the closet, leaning against the closed door I looked down the hallway, trying to find Drew. 

If he fucks like that, I don’t think I’ll ever leave.

Drew McIntyre's Masterlist

[momolady]

It's that time again! Commissions are open! And these commissions are specifically for paying for my recent medical expenses that have built up. But nothing really has changed, same old commissions, same dedicated Momolady.

These commissions are open from late February through May, so feel free to ask for multiples if you'd like.

Below is a format I wish you to follow so that the commission you want is assured, and I will have all information needed in order to complete the job easily, smoothly, and stress free. If further discussions are needed, we can do so via discord.

Send all applications or questions to momoladycomms@gmail.com

Commission Inquiry Form:

Make sure to include as much as possible! If your desired story needs a lot of details, give as much as needed. If you want to leave something more simple and trust me with the details, make sure to say that too. This will also decide which commission price comes into play. When you send the email please make the topic Patreon Commission.

What is your budget (or desired word count):

Reader Character Gender:

Reader Character Description:

Monster Character:

Monster Character Description:

Is this NSFW or SFW?

Any kinks, tropes, or specifics?

Story Outline:

Other thoughts or comments:

Commission Prices:

Basic commissions: 1.50 cent per word. (ex: $45 is 3k words)

The basic usual fair. A self insert reader or a simple ‘you’ reader. Describe the monster you want, basic plot outline, and simple wants for the story and outcome. Usually requires minimal research and prep on my end, and the story is probably mostly fluff, meet cute, etc. If free reign is given to me, your author, you will be guaranteed extra word count for my enjoyment.

Smut Commissions: 2 cent per word. (ex: $60 is 3k)

This includes more complex details and requests, these may be stories that feature original characters or that deal with a more involved storyline, plot, character work, and word count. This includes plots and characters that may require extra research on my end. This also takes into account that these complex stories may include word overflow (I know they do, I know how I work., as well time discussing and working out things may take.

Discounts are available on most of Patreon reward tiers. And people who have commissioned me more than three times will receive and friends and family discount as well.

I will also only accept payments made in USD. I feel that is fair, considering I have been lenient about this in the past. I have let friendship and my own kindness allow me to be taken advantage of, and I am tired of it. Payment, as always, is due in advance, and you can pay as soon as you like (discounts apply here) or as close to the due date as possible (the closer you pay to the due date the less the discount you receive). Payments will be made via paypal and I will send an invoice when you are ready. If paypal isn’t an option for you, we will discuss that in advance.

I do not mind you being as vague or as detailed as you want. I do suggest you get all your details out in one go, as we can discuss them quickly and easily. If things change, that is fine too, just make sure to tell me advanced enough it won’t hinder the production of your story. What I request is that you do not bombard me with requests, ask, and details over and over and over again. The more this happens the more I tend to get anxious and stressed about the story. Once details are agreed upon then they are considered final. Any changes made a week before will not be accepted. Also, stories that require a lot of detail and research will have a higher price point. I have bent over backwards and worked myself to the bone on stories like these, and I think it’s time I am paid for it. I also ask that anything you want for the story does not alter or bend the rules of the universes you want them set in, such as Hearthway Hollow, Ruby Empire, and Miror. These are my worlds and I have specific things in place for them, if you feel the need to play God, please discuss it with me beforehand and we can see if we can reach something amicably.

Be prepared to hear ‘no’ from me. In the past I have not put my foot down and I have ended up uncomfortable or unsure about things. There are certain topics, kinks, and creatures I will not write, but I am very happy to work with you to come to something that will satisfy your needs.

I will start asking for extra pay if extensive edits are needed. If there are whole chunks that need rewritten or paragraphs you wanted added, I am going to have to charge for them, although it will be cheaper than the regular cost per word. If it’s something that is truly my mistake (like if I wrote the wrong monster or something), it will be discussed.

I ask that you trust me as a writer to do what is best. If I twist something or request something goes another way, it is me wanting to give you the best experience for your story and not disregarding your wants for the story at all. Usually when this happens I will discuss it with you and double check to make sure it is ok.

Now here comes the FAQ

Do you have a word limit?

Considering how many commissions I get, I will not be accepting commissions under 3000 words. It hasn’t come up, but I just wanted it to be known. Smaller commissions are extremely hard for me to do. The bigger the commission the better for me, it’s a lot easier.

My story’s at 3502 words! Do I have to pay the extra pricing per word?

If a story goes over 500 words I’ll discuss with you what you’d like to do. But usually, extra word count is my bad, I get excited sometimes and have fun, and I don’t mind eating it.

I have this great idea for a novel…

I’m glad you have an idea, but no. I cannot write your novel for you. It isn’t fair to me, and it will probably cost you more than you are willing to pay. I have my own projects and novels to write. I can’t baby your dream as well as my own.

Will you write fanfiction on commission?

For the time being, no. But! If you’d be willing to work with me and create a ‘legally distinct’ original to compensate then lets talk!

I have a completely original character and would like you to write with them. Is this okay?

YES. But, Be prepared to give me a decent bio as well as their physical description and all the basic information I will need to bring your baby to life.

Can I have you write another chapter to one of your existing stories?

Yes! If the story was a commission though we will have to ask the original commissioner. If they approve then I will do it for you.

I want to give you free reign over the story. Is that ok?

Always! I love getting creative and going off in my own little world.

What kind of stories do you write?

Here's my masterlist!

I enjoy writing almost anything. I’m good at comedy and romance, but horror and psychological stories have become my guilty pleasure to write.I’m good with most anything, but there will be topics I will be unwilling to write. But this will all be discussed and approved when you contact me.

What won’t you write?

This is a better question to ask. I absolutely will not write anything involving scat, vore, children in sexual situations, or nonconsensual sexual acts. These are just major examples of things I am uncomfortable with. Also, I am NOT open to role plays, so don’t ask for those.

So how does this work?

Send me an email to momoladycomms@gmail.com with your intent and a brief idea of what you want. Once I approve it we can discuss what length of story you want, what genre, what characters, and a loose outline. Payment will be given upfront. Until I receive payment I will not begin working on your commission.

Will you be showing my story off to everyone else?

Commissions will be yours and yours alone for up to a month. After that it will be posted to Patreon and a month after that it will go live on Tumblr and Wattpad. But having your commission and the feedback will help me build my portfolio for the future.

Food for Thought

Remember when that you are commissioning anyone, writer, artist, voice actor, musician, anyone, that you are not just paying for the product. You are also paying them for their time talking to you about what you want, you're paying for their research and study on whatever it is you want, you're paying them for double checking and making sure everything is ok with the product. More goes into the commissions you ask for than you think, so please be kind and considerate with commissioning anyone. Art takes time, patience, and a lot of love, and we want to give you the best bang for your dollar.

[snickerzanddoodlez]

HELLO, TUMBLR!

SnickerDoodlez | She / Her | 16

Nice to meet y’all! You can call me any variation of my username! I’m the director of Wordgirl: Rewired, the unofficial fan reboot! (This isn’t just a pipe-dream project- we have already released a few ten-minute episodes!) If that interests you even at all, check ‘em out! And by the way, applications are open!

My other main blogs are @my-silly-little-guys and @crown-of-roses-thsc, for OCs and my Henry Stickmin AU comic respectively! My newest main is @the-only-teruteru-fan, which…tells you all you need to know-

My main socials are Tumblr, Toyhou.se, and YouTube! I also take commissions!

SOME THINGS TO KNOW ABOUT ME

1. I try to avoid venting on this blog, so don’t worry about that! It will happen from time to time- a teenager with depression, who woulda guessed?- but I try to keep it private! If I do vent, it’s usually just through passing jokes, angsty art, a short post, or words of encouragement I wish I’d heard!

3. My rules and boundaries are few- just keep in mind that I am 16!

4. I’m a huge advocate for cringe! Create that Mary Sue! Be the next Ebony Darkness Dimentia Raven Way! I encourage it! I’ve obsessed over my fair share of Danganronpa characters- who am I to judge?

5. Do not spread hate. While I do think that everyone has a right to express their opinions or beliefs, I do not want anything to do with people who advocate for zoophilia, racism, pedophilia, etc.

6. I’m a Christian, but I don’t often post about it- my relationship with God is between Him and me! However, please don’t let this be a turn-off for you- though you’ve no doubt heard many stereotypes, I do not associate myself with Christians that are hateful or cruel…that’s not following God’s teachings.

7. l ask that current events are discussed elsewhere, as for me and many others, these blogs are places to escape reality. As well as this, please do not message me or send me asks pertaining to charities and seeking donations- though I wish those who truly need it help and support, this just isn't a place for it.

8. I am perfectly okay with people monetizing content pertaining to my creations, so long as the content itself is their own work! As well as this, I’m okay with people translating my work or making creative interpretations!

9. Please send me asks! Please! | need! Social interaction! And to talk about! My OCs! PLEASE TAG ME. IF YOU'RE DEBATING WHETHER YOU SHOULD OR SHOULDN'T, THAT MEANS YOU SHOULD. Although just a warning, I’m not always a fan of tag games! (Basically, I’d say- if you’re tagging me because you specifically thought of me, thought I’d be interested, or the post is about me in any way, please tag me! If you’re tagging me just because I’m a mutual and it isn’t something that I need to see, then I’m going to be less keen. But hey, I don’t really mind!)

10. Reach out to me for….whatever you want! Think I’m cool? Thanks! Got a question? Go for it! Wanna be friends? I’m flattered! I’m pretty open with things!

Oh, and my biggest fandoms right now are~

-Hidden Beneath! (Or the fandom I wish it had, haha!) @my-silly-little-guys

-The Henry Stickmin Collection @crown-of-roses-thsc

-Wordgirl

-Warrior Cats

-Danganronpa @the-only-teruteru-fan

[jay-avian]

Writeblr Intro

Hey there everyone! My name is Jay Avian, and I am a young writer hoping to share my works, get some feedback, and meet fellow writers.

About Me

I go by she/her. I'm a Christian who loves reading fantasy, folklore, and poetry. I like watching YouTube mainly now (Mithzan and YourPalRoss being my top two). I write my own poetry, which I'll post on here from time to time. You can find where I post my poetry here! I also like riddles, so if anyone wants to trade some back and forth, please feel free to message!

I am currently open to editing commissions! You can find the details here or you can DM me any questions you may have.

My WIPs

I have far too many projects at the moment. From short stories to novels to possible blogs, I'm currently writing in a few different genres. I mainly stick to fantasy but I like to venture out. Here are some of the main projects I'm passionate about.

Feel free to ask me any questions about my projects. I'd be more than happy to answer them! Can't wait to show you what I have in store!

The Court Magician (fantasy, action)

The great sage Josiah passed away and the kingdom of Stellaris needs a new court magician. Micah Cyprus, a studying wizard in druidic magic, is volunteered for the position by his mentor unwillingly. Things are very slow going working for the king and his menial requests. The worst part is he is to remain on castle grounds and attend to his majesty. But when Micah looks through the sage's notes, he discovers a secret threat to the kingdom. Can he protect Stellaris while being chained to it?

Morgensturm (fantasy, action)

Harelan was an eager young dragonborn who wanted to explore the world. When sneaking away on a trading ship, the crew gets attacked by the infamous Captain Caspian Barrack. In a deal gone wrong, Harelan finds himself a part of the pirate's crew. The duo go on many adventures together and get themselves into more trouble than they can handle. Some people will do what they can to tame fate, determined to conquer and be in control. But what will they do when they fall in high water with hopes to go past without paying the toll?

Fantasy Tea WIP (slice-of-life)

A prohibition has been inacted on potions in the kingdom, forcing Krig Petalwort, a goblin alchemist, to close his shop. Meanwhile, Nedwyn Amberwood, an eager halfling entrepenuer, wants to open up a new tea house in town. She takes over the potion shop while the alchemist helps out around the shop garden. Later on, they discovers that their tea can give minor potion effects. Suddenly, their business is booming with customers and needy adventurers. Follow their stories as they try to maintain a low profile as a well-to-do cafe.

Fight Club Isekai WIP (action)

Starving artist Skylar has been struggling to make ends meet, using the arts (both martial and otherwise) to express herself. But when she tries to skip town in order to find some sort of escape, she finds herself in a new world entirely. This world is almost like her own except with one main difference... People do battle with magic cards? Rather than trouble herself with the bigger, world-renowned tournaments, she tries her luck to make easy money with the underground fight clubs instead. With the help of her new "friend" Kody, how far will she get? And more importantly, will she find a way home?

Kingdom Hearts Fanfic (action, fantasy?)

[shallyne]

Feysand Week Day 3

Feyre grimaced after taking her second shot of the evening, making Mor and Cassian giggle. The party was in full swing by now and both of her friends are set on getting Feyre drunk. "It's your birthday!" they are telling her, "You're free!"

She supposed she was and she supposed she should celebrate her freedom after leaving Tamlin. Yes, Feyre knew they were right but she wasn't into celebrating her birthdays, she never found them important enough after a childhood full of forgotten birthdays. Cassian and Mor wanted to show Feyre the magic of birthday parties but if getting drunk was the best way? She doubted it. Feyre shook her head, catching a glimpse of the poster that her friends hung up for the party. "Can we take this down now?" Feyre asked, pointing to her mugshot.

Mor laughed as Cassian replied, "Absolutely not! This day needs to be remembered forever!"

"It's been almost six years!" she told them, suppressing a smile.

Mor slapped her hand on the table in a mock gesture, "I don't know why you want to forget! You were fully in your right to punch Ianthe in the face. She deserved it! Embrace it, bestie!"

Feyre rolled her eyes, "I didn't punch her! It was a slap!" she told her as the song that blasted out of the speakers came to an end, and a new one started. Cassians gaze fell behind Feyre and he stood up.

"My brother is here! I'll be back Ina sec."

Feyre nodded as Mor filled her shot glass again, "Don't look like that, only that one. I know you don't like celebrating your birthday, Feyre, so let's celebrate how far you've come since you left you're toxic hometown." she pushed one glass towards Feyre and raised the other, "To my friend who I am very proud of!"

Feyre huffed, blinking away tears, and they clinked their glasses. She threw back that shot as Cassian stopped back at their table, "Feyre, may I introduce you to Rhysand?"

"You may," she replied, fixing the cheap plastic crown on her, "It's nice to meet y-" she stopped as she locked eyes with a male who was beautiful beyond reason, smiling at her with his hands in his pockets. Feyre swallowed, she recognized him. From her memories, from her dreams. She had thought she had him much more beautiful in her memories because she was under the influence of alcohol back then but her memories didn't even come close to the man standing before her. "I– I know you!" she blurted out.

He raised his eyebrows in question, a smile tugging at his beautiful lips. "Oh?"

"Yup!" Feyre giggled, a wave of happiness rolling over her, "You arrested me at Rita's six years ago! In Velaris!" she exclaimed so loudly over the music that heads turned her way. She ignored them, scooting to the side to make room for him. "Sit down, officer...uh..."

"Rhysand." he told her, sitting down. Cassian took the seat across from them and her friends watched them in amusement. "But please call me Rhys."

"Okay, officer Rhys," he opened his mouth but Feyre kept talking, "How is it going? Still a cop?"

"I–yes, I am." he replied, taking a drink from Mor. "What about you? I heard you're an artist."

"Indeed, I am." Feyre straightened proudly, "I am working with Ressina and I went to art school in New York." she nodded to herself, "You must train a lot as a cop. You definitely look like you do."

Amusement danced in his eyes, "A few times a week." he replied.

"Cool, cool, cool," she said, "Very impressive. Must be hard, I couldn't do that. I mean I could if I wanted to but I don't."

Rhys chuckled, "It's not for everyone." Feyre nodded in agreement. He leaned back in his seat, relaxed, "Do you do commissions?"

"Why? Do you want one?" Feyre asked, brushing a fleck of invisible dust from her jeans. "I can give you my number and we can talk about specifics tomorrow if–"

"If?" Rhys asked, taking a sip of his drink.

Feyre leaned forward, pointing to the group of people who danced, "If you dance with me, officer Rhys."

Rhys smiled brightly, "It would be an honor, Feyre darling." he laughed softly, extending his hand. Feyre took it, following him into the crowd of people.

The next morning Feyre woke up with a message from an unknown number.

>> Hey, it's Rhys

Feysand Taglist:

@captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @edgyellie @starfall-spirit @rhysiedarling @corcracrow @sydney-fae25 @tothestarsandwhateverend @aayo-whatt @dreamlandreader

[starsdoart]

Welcome!!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 my name is Star, I am 18, an asexual lesbian, and I use she/her pronouns

ᯓᡣ𐭩 this is a side blog for my main account @starsthewitch that i made for art and writing purposes! i don’t want my spiritual practice and my works to be in the same space and be all cluttered

ᯓᡣ𐭩 i have 3 comics in the works at the moment and hopefully more to come. the comics are called VYNL, The Worlds Broken Hearth, and Someko meets Someko, all of which i plan on posting about

ᯓᡣ𐭩 when i’m not focusing on writing lore for my comics, i write and draw things for my ocs instead! i have a lottttt of them, more than 30 which i absolutely adore, they aren’t apart of the comics but i’ll just post about them anyway

ᯓᡣ𐭩 i play dnd! so i’ll be posting things about my character as well

ᯓᡣ𐭩 i’ve been drawing for as long as i can remember, but only took it seriously when i was in the 8th grade. writing is something i’ve always done as well, but the first comic i wrote and drew was when i was a freshman in highschool

ᯓᡣ𐭩 just like it says on my main blog, i don’t mind if minors interact with me as long as things are kept appropriate, same goes for older audiences

ᯓᡣ𐭩 i’m always open to making new art and writer friends so please feel free to dm me! my asks are always open so if you want to ask me anything about what i create, also feel free!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 safe space for those who are neurodivergent, i have ADHD :D

ᯓᡣ𐭩 average DNI criteria, no racists, ableists, homophobes, proshippers, aphobes, biphobes, bigots, free palestine antis, race fetishizers (please actually do not interact with me i don't want this on my feed at all.) etc.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 i am a black, neurodivergent, gay woman. any disrespect towards any of those fronts will have you or your comment immediately blocked or deleted

ᯓᡣ𐭩 my commissions are open! i just need to make an official post about them, you can dm me if you’d like one :))

Reminder:

i wont be able to post consistently, i still go to school, i have finals coming up, i have a job, i’m in the process of moving, and i’m getting ready to go to college! so please bear with me during this time ^^