#vore regression

[mpreghotties]

The mad scientist from Jurassic World 3 kidnapped Owen Grady and his adopted clone daughter. He experimented in a lab and was about to surgically implant Owen’s daughter inside Owen’s stomach and give her a de-aging serum so that in 1 month she would reverse to the age of a baby and switch genders into a boy. 1 more month later they’ll regress to just a sperm in Owen’s cock. Owen is officially now a pregnant man being observed by the scientist and taken care of by his lovely wife. In 9 months, he will give birth to an amazing baby boy.

since this mission was a success he can move on to more male subjects

[schizononagesimus]

yk what could be cool if we stopped cancelling celebrities for their kinks thanks

[snail-day]

Hush Now, Sweet Lamb

Sum: When the spankings won't stop unruly darling lambs, perhaps a lobotomy will.

Yandere! Geto x Reader

WC: 3.9k

TW: Yandere Behaviors, Lobotomy, Body Horror, Non-consensual medical procedure, Gore, Non-con/dub-con, Drool, Vore/Cannibalism (idk he licks the needle), Mental Regression, Death, Unreliable Narrator, ANGST, No happy ending, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. MDNI

a/n: Hugggeee shout out to @pink-cakes-and-treats for hearing me ramble about this for like what seems like months. Thank you for being my buddy and yapping with me about horrific ideas <3

“I love you.” The words managed to scrape from your throat as if broken glass, torn from the depths of you, raw and trembling, drowned beneath sobs that had started as fragile whispers - please don’t do this. Please. But pleading never worked with him. Not anymore. Not now that he believed in something greater than mercy.

I love you.

Three little words, simple on the surface. But words like that, they grow claws in the wrong hands. Those are words that dig deep. They change shape. Once, they meant comfort. Now, they meant surrender.

A slow blink of your eyes, vision awash with salt and candlelight, and tried to look at him clearly.

Geto Suguru.

The man who stood before you cradled your face like a lover - not the monster delivering your demise. Those violet eyes, once soft and bright with life, were now eclipsed by the sermon room’s dim, flickering glow, like stained glass in a cathedral set aflame. Somewhere within those depths, buried beneath devotion and delirium, was a love that hadn’t died. Instead, the love had festered.

You wanted to close your eyes. But even the darkness behind your lids pulsed with memories of him. The boy next door with pink, sun-kissed cheeks and chubby fingers that always curled around yours. The boy who kissed your scraped knees after washing them clumsily with water that was always too cold. Who made a whole ceremony out of applying Doraemon band-aids, pressing the softest kiss on top of the bandage, despite your complaints about cooties.

He used to say, “I’ll protect you.” You had, foolish and small at the time, believed him.

You remembered your mother’s fingers ruffling his inky, silken hair, laughter spilling from her lips like sunshine on a summer's day - He’s so strong, isn’t he? Like a little guardian angel.

But angels don’t whisper in tongues only curses understand.

Angels don’t weave bindings made of curses around the people they claim to love.

Angels don’t press needles into soft, trembling skin and call it mercy.

The curses - grotesque, sinewy things born from nightmares and grief - curdled in the air around you like sour smoke. They slithered closer, tighter, their slick, obsidian tendrils humming with quiet, predatory malice as they coiled around your limbs, your throat, your wrists. They weren’t angry. No. They purred. Like obedient beasts, eager to serve. And their master, well, he wanted you still as a sacrificial lamb. Fitting for his little nickname for you. His little lamb.

Suguru - who had always moved with the effortless grace of a man both adored and feared - looked almost divine in the candlelight. A priest cloaked in ritual and reverence, lit from below like a god born of scripture and shadows. Or perhaps a martyr - beaten holy by his own devotion. His shadow stretched across the altar like a veil of ink, falling over you where you lay: trembling, meek, and bare as birth, reduced to little more than breath and bone.

Not a woman. Not even a body.

Just a vessel. Just a lamb. Who had become soft. Submissive. Shorn of will. A beloved offering, cradled in ritual, smothered in grace. Something holy only to him. You tried to run in your mind as he stepped closer, tried to fold yourself into some memory where he was still safe to love.

You remembered the summer festivals, when fireworks lit the sky and he bought you watermelon-flavored ice you could barely finish. You remembered sitting on his porch, legs kicking in sync, cicadas screaming so loud it almost drowned out the silence between your hearts. You remembered the way he used to almost hold your hand. Always almost. Until he didn’t.

You remembered that day at the train station - he was leaving for that strange religious school. His shoulders had grown broader. His smile softened. “I love you. Stay safe,” you had said, like you knew something was already being lost.

He stared at you through the closing doors, lips parted in surprise. And then his hand rose, maybe to hide a blush. Maybe to keep from reaching out.

You blocked him after that. His messages grew too much. The words were too insistent. Desperate of sorts. You didn’t know why. You only knew your body was warning you, whispering in every nerve: This love will consume you.

And now - here you are. On the altar. Bound and beautiful in his eyes. A sacrament. He still reaches for you with that same tenderness from your childhood; the same hands that once held juice boxes and glow sticks now steadied a needle. The metal glinted as he lifted it gently, reverently. Not like a tool. Like a gift.

Like he was about to free you from something as a chilling smile curled upon his lips. Soft. Adoring in more ways than one. That left an unshakable unease rippling through your skin.

“Don’t cry,” Suguru whispered, brushing a tear from your cheek with the roughened pad of his thumb. “You’ll feel so much better soon. I promise. Then you won’t have to be afraid anymore.”

Your gaze flickered to the ceiling. Candles flickered like stars. The kind you used to wish on together.

It's funny how you used to think monsters lived under the bed. But the real ones? They grow up beside you. They kiss your wounds. They fall in love with you. When they finally snap, they smile as they make you forget everything you ever were.

You didn’t scream, just a shallow gasp. Not because it didn’t hurt, but because screaming no longer belonged to you. Nothing did. Not your voice, not your body, not your memories. Not even your pain.

It all belonged to him now.

The first prick of the needle behind your eye slid in with a sickening certainty - too precise to be mercy, too gentle to be anything but intimate. You felt it bloom inside your skull like a flower made of splinters. It slipped past flesh like it was always meant to find you there. As if your body had been made for this moment. As if your skull had been carved to cradle his madness.

And in that stillness, something warm trickled down your temple.

He wiped it gently with his thumb, kissed the damp skin with trembling lips. “Shhh, my sweet little lamb,” he whispered, low and soft, as if you were a child crying over a scraped knee. “I know. I know it’s frightening. But I promise you - it’s all for your own good.”

His voice trembled not with guilt but with awe. Like he couldn’t believe he was finally holding you like this. Like he was performing communion - your blood, his wine. Your silence, his scripture. You wanted to move. To recoil. To bite. But your limbs were tangled in a lattice of cursed tendrils, slithering just beneath your skin now - stroking you, soothing you, restraining you. They purred when he touched you. They loved you because he did.

You blinked. Or tried to. The world fuzzed, then snapped. The light was far too bright. Or maybe it was inside your head now, blooming behind your eyes like rot disguised as sunrise. He hummed under his breath, some soft, low hymn that no god ever asked for. And you thought or at least did your best:

This is the boy I loved. The one who carried your schoolbag when it rained. Who tucked tissue in his sleeve just in case your nose ran in the cold. The boy who picked you flowers with dirty hands and whispered, One day, I’ll marry you.

You remembered the shape of his laugh. The way his cheeks would puff when he was sulking. How he used to stand too close, hoping you’d notice. You remembered the way his hands used to shake the first time they touched yours.

They weren’t shaking now.

His hands were steady as death as he adjusted the needle, guiding it deeper with the devotion of a priest performing holy rites. You felt it slip - inside.

Your vision shuttered. The pain was distant now. But the wrongness, that had the luxury of staying and growing in the pits of your stomach.

“You were too soft for this world,” Suguru murmured, pressing his cheek to yours. “Too delicate. That’s why I had to take you. The world would’ve broken you. Used you up. But I kept you safe. I preserved you.” He smelled like incense and iron. Like sweat and sanctity. You could feel his smile against your skin, stretched wide, trembling with overwhelming joy.

“And now… now you’ll finally be perfect. Pure. Still. A lamb in the arms of her shepherd.” Your lips parted, but no words came. Your tongue felt thick. Like it didn’t remember language. Something fizzled - snapped. You twitched again. He caught your jaw in his hand and steadied you, looking into your eyes like he was watching the stars flicker out one by one.

“I used to wonder,” he said softly, “why you kept trying to run. Even after I gave you the twins. Even after I gave you a purpose. A family.”

He tilted your head back. A trickle of blood slipped down your nose. He didn’t wipe it away this time. He watched it.

“You were just scared, weren’t you?” he whispered, nearly too soft compared to the ringing of bells in your ears. “Still clinging to the old world. But that world is gone, my love. I burned it down - for you.”

You remembered the smell of it. The fire. The smoke. The wet, coppery heat of your mother’s blood soaking into the hem of your pajamas.

You remembered him cradling your body as your knees buckled, stroking your back as you retched. Whispering into your ear like a lullaby, “Don’t cry, little lamb. They were wicked. They would’ve turned you against me.”

And then he had carried you through the carnage like a bride.

He took you into the cult’s sanctum and gave you a bed, a brush for your hair, and two scared children who clung to you like reeds in a storm. Girls whose names you didn’t even know until they started calling you mama.

He carved a home from your prison - a gilded cage lined with velvet and rot. Kissed you goodnight like a good husband would.

He called you blessed. In front of his followers, he praised your existence like a miracle, declaring it a divine mercy that a non-sorcerer like you still drew breath within his arms.

As if your survival was a gift. As if your captivity was sacred.

Every time you fled, every time you clawed your way toward freedom, gasping for air outside the pretty cage he built - he found you. Forgave you after he had the luxury of breaking you.

With the kind of love that tasted like blood in your mouth. The kind that turned screams into moans as he dragged you to the dirt, pinning you down on cold, splintered floors in whatever half-lit corner you thought might hide you.

With chains that bit deep into your wrists as he forced your legs apart, lapping at you like a beast in heat - obsessive, starving, single-minded - until your cries melted into gutted whimpers, soaked in shame and submission.

With arms that clamped around you as he rutted into your limp, trembling body, whispering filth like worship against your throat. He liked to hold you close while he took you. Said that’s what good husbands do. Said it made him feel close to your soul.

“I could’ve punished you,” he whispered now, nose brushing yours, dragging you from your thoughts. “I could’ve let them tear you apart. But I didn’t. I saved you. And now, I’m saving you again.”

The needle pushed deeper. A strange warmth bloomed through your skull - thick, slow, unnatural. Then cold. Then silence.

Something vital inside you didn't have the grace of death, instead, the fight in you burned out. It gave up as you tried to gasp outwards. Your chest rose, then failed. Your throat strained, but no sound came, just a trembling echo of what used to be a voice.

The motion hitched halfway through your lungs and collapsed in on itself like wet fabric. Your throat made a sound, but it didn’t belong to you. Not anymore. It dragged out garbled and raw, something caught between a sob and a death rattle. Like your body had already started mourning itself.

“There now,” Suguru sighed, almost dreamily. He sounded like a man slipping into silk sheets, not someone pressing steel into brain tissue. “It’s working.” You felt his breath against your cheek, humid and reverent, as though your suffering was a sacred thing to be exhaled over. His fingers moved through your hair with that same obscene gentleness he used on the twins when they cried. Like he believed he was comforting you. Like this wasn’t desecration.

“You won’t need memories where we’re going,” he whispered, fingers sticky with whatever he’d pulled out of you. “You won’t need thoughts. Or fear. Or doubt.”

You blinked, at least, you think you did. Your eyes were open. Or partly. But the light fractured, soft, too gold, too much. The world stuttered and blurred around him like a fever dream unraveling into a nightmare.

His voice curved into a smile. “You’ll only need me.”

You weren’t sure when it happened. When your eyes dulled. When your breath fell into someone else's rhythm. When the needle slid out, smooth and glistening, red and glinting like something freshly birthed.

You didn’t feel it. But you heard it. A soft, wet pop - like something precious giving way inside your skull. A balloon rupturing in thick fluid. He hushed you as your body spasmed, more out of instinct than resistance.

“Don’t move, little lamb,” he murmured. “Don’t scramble what’s left.”

You couldn’t have moved if you tried. Your limbs had forgotten themselves. Your muscles were pudding beneath your skin, twitching without coordination. Your mouth hung open uselessly.

That was when the drool began. Thick, ropy strings of it, tinged pink and metallic, sliding down your chin in slow, shameful drips. It clung to your lips like it didn’t want to leave. Slid over your teeth. Fell in beads to your collarbone.

You tasted it as the saliva filled your mouth - thick and warm, crawling slow over your tongue like something alive. Copper. Meat. Rot. And something else. Something wrong. Something slick and electric, like licking the edge of a live wire soaked in acid. Your mouth tasted like what you used to be. Like memory liquefied. Like identity spoiled into nectar.

And Suguru… watched. Watched like he was witnessing a miracle unravel. Like your unraveling was the miracle. His gaze devoured you, eyes wide, glassy, rapt. Worshipping the mess of you. The way your lips hung open. How your drool pooled like syrup along your chin. The way your body, even now, still gave. His fingers trailed adoringly along your jaw, collecting the viscous spill of drool-blood-spit that clung there like a sacrament. He brought it to his mouth.

There was no hesitation as he licked the obscene liquid from his knuckles slowly - slowly - as though savoring something rare and precious. Letting the fluid coat his tongue. Letting your essence melt into the heat of his mouth like the candy he used to feed you.

He swirled it across the roof of his mouth like wine, eyes fluttering closed, lashes trembling. Releasing a soft, breathless sound close to ecstasy from his lips as his gaze flicked to the needle. The needle was still warm and glistening, still wet with the remnants of your mind. With a reverence that bordered on religious delirium, he leaned in and dragged his tongue along its length, slow, unhurried, adoring.

Suguru licked it clean the way one might lick honey from a spoon. Red. Silver. Viscera-smudged. He moaned, quiet, breathless. A sound that would be beautiful, if he wasn't such an insane bastard. Oh, how he moaned, like the taste of you, your thoughts and ruin, was from one of his holy sermons. As if your suffering was something sweet.

He lifted the object of demise like it was precious. Sacred. Like it belonged in a reliquary, not his hand. But Suguru never did worship like the others did. No, he needed to taste divinity. To consume it. To consume the fight you're leaving behind.

So he brought it to his lips.

Opened his mouth.

And lowered his head.

His throat welcomed the steel like it was communion. The glinting metal disappeared inch by inch, his lips stretching, jaw relaxing as he swallowed it down. Past tongue. Past teeth. Down, down, until the hilt kissed his lips, and his throat bobbed around it. Pretty, violet eyes that rolled back, lashes fluttering, a soft groan slipping from deep in his chest.

It wasn’t pain.

It was rapture.

He held it there for a moment - the instrument of your undoing lodged in his throat like a holy relic, his breath trembling around it. Then he pulled it back out - slow, glistening, wet. No longer coated with your blood, but his saliva.

Suguru looked back at you with something like ecstasy, and everything inside you screamed to recoil. But your body didn’t move. Couldn’t. You could only watch him watching you. His teeth, once pearly white, were now stained a soft pink as he spoke.

“I’ll always love that little fight in you,” he said, crouching beside your slack, drooling face. His thumb dragged your lip down slightly, just to watch it bounce back up uselessly. He smiled. “But in my new world…”

His voice lowered, thick with affection.

“…pets like you don’t need to fight.”

He cupped your face between his palms, cradling it like a fragile fruit, kissed your forehead, then your nose, then your lips - smeared in drool and blood, the flavor of your mind still on his tongue.

And then he kissed you deeper.

Your jaw didn’t move. Your lips didn’t purse. It didn’t matter. He kissed you like you were kissing him back.  Like your silence was consent. When he pulled away, strings of spit - your spit - clung between your mouths like a web. He licked them away. Didn’t waste a drop of the sweetest nectar known to man. 

-----

The air was warm today.

Cherry blossoms fluttered like slow snowfall across the temple courtyard, sticking to your hair, your lashes, the white fabric of your dress. The wind teased them loose from the trees, scattering them like blessings. You didn’t move when they landed on you. Didn’t blink when one brushed across your cheek and stayed there.

You just sat on the stone steps, knees tucked to your chest, head tilted toward the sun. A trickle of drool slid from the corner of your mouth, glistening in the light like nectar.

And you were smiling.

Suguru stood just behind you for a while, watching. Breathing. Listening to the soft rustle of petals and the small, wet click of your throat when you swallowed.

You looked so content. So quiet.

So loved.

He approached slowly, letting his sandals scuff against the stone so you’d hear him. Not that it mattered. You no longer startled when he moved. You no longer stiffened under his gaze.

When he knelt beside you, your head turned - just slightly, slow as honey dripping from a spoon. Your eyes fluttered toward him, soft and unfocused.

And then you smiled again.

That was the worst part. The best part. The part that made something in his chest crumple and swell at once.

You smiled like you loved him.

“Hello, my sweet little lamb,” he murmured, brushing a blossom from your hair. You didn’t react, but you leaned ever so slightly into his palm as it cradled your cheek. The skin beneath his hand was warm. Damp with sweat. Or maybe just the sun.

Your lips parted. “Sun…” you said, voice slow and syrup-thick, your tongue barely moving. “...pretty.”

It nearly knocked the breath from his lungs.

“Yes,” Suguru whispered. “So very pretty. Almost as much as you.”

He sat beside you and wrapped his arm around your waist. You didn’t lean in. You just… folded. Like your body recognized the weight and allowed it, welcomed it out of some primal muscle memory. Like an animal curling into its pen. He pressed a kiss to your temple. The scar was healing. Still red. Still swollen. Still a reminder.

Of what he’d done. What he’d chosen.

Sometimes, he dreamed of the needle. Of how your body twitched when it pierced the soft tissue behind your eye. Of how the drool began, slow at first, then steady. Of how your voice choked itself trying to say his name one last time.

And sometimes, in the rare moments when guilt crept in - when he remembered the way you screamed and kicked and begged him not to - he would look at you now.

Look at this.

The sun glowing on your skin. The way you tilted your face toward the warmth. The way your hand twitched faintly, as if reaching for him. The way you smiled when he touched you.

And the guilt would go quiet.

How could it be wrong, when you were so peaceful now? When you smiled at him like he was everything?

He whispered into your hair, “You’re happy, aren’t you?”

You blinked slowly. Your head lolled toward him. Another strand of drool slipped down your chin, caught on your collarbone. A blossom landed there. You didn’t notice.

“Pretty…” you murmured again, eyes glassy. “Suguru…”

His heart hammered once, twice. Pounding against his chest. The sound of his name - spoken like a lullaby. Like a sacred word. Not with fear. Not with rage. Just soft devotion. He swallowed thickly. His hands trembled as he pulled you closer. Pressed his forehead to yours.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I love you so much it aches. I’d do it all again, you know that?”

You stared past him.

“I had to,” he said, his voice cracking, guilt peeking through like weeds beneath stone. “You would’ve left me. You did. Again and again. I couldn’t let you. You understand that now, don’t you?”

You didn’t answer. But your hand - slow, clumsy - found the edge of his sleeve. Your fingers curled around the fabric and stayed there.

His breath hitched. That touch, that tiny act of agency, undid him. It didn’t matter that you no longer understood who you were, who he was. That you barely spoke, barely moved without prompting.

What mattered was this: you reached for him.

“You love me now,” he whispered, and it sounded like confession. “Even if you don’t know it. Even if you can’t say it. I made it true.”

A breeze passed. More petals fell. Your dress fluttered gently against his leg, and your head dropped against his shoulder.

Suguru held you tighter. As the twins ran around the garden barefoot and full of giggles, collecting flowers for their mama's flower crown. A mama that will no longer run away. You smiled as you watched, and Suguru believed - truly, deeply - that you were happy with this makeshift family.

"I love you," He whispered, pressing another lingering kiss to your temple. Three little words that made his heart swell for his little lamb.

[mirrorcatcreditcard]

Things I think the fandom just willfully ignores or has no idea about that would be super easy to slip into your fanfiction if you want to be inclusive and try out new things.

Lucifer just likes shibari, nawajutsu, or some form of rope tying art, and there's nothing inherently sexual about the excitement it brings him. He's a sadist too, but attraction to the other party would only add to the experience, not be necessary or a byproduct.

Belphegor could age regress and nobody would really be the wiser because of his position as coddled/spoiled youngest child. Even if they were, it doesn't change anything, really.

Beelzebub can fuck. He's also a cannibal. Do I need to say the vore word for you to understand how underutilized food/gore as a love language would be with him? No, it doesn't need to be sexual either, but goddamn so many keep treating him like UwU baby when he kills demons in cold blood because he hungy

Asmodeus is any gender or sexuality you want him to be. Lust ≠ attraction, and you can make him asexual. He's pretty free with how he presents. Also, his fans are so desperate for nice content on him that they'll take anything too. Nobody is going to kill you over this.

Mammon's greed can also be depicted as someone who wants to monopolize your time and/or affections. He attempts plenty of times in canon.

Barbatos' strongest attachment is Diavolo, but he does care about other beings. As long as they're not getting in the way of Diavolo, he's allowed to show care in his own way goddamnit. He's not an ice statue.

Mammon is allowed to be a non-sexual masochist. I don't know why people think all kinks are sexual, BUT HE'S ALLOWED.

I just want to take a moment to acknowledge bloodlust counting as a lust.

Luke is a genuinely deep character with a compelling story and important appearances, and you will be doing better than 99% of the fandom if you just acknowledge that he's more than just a kid who tags along and whines when he's scared (like all kids do when they're his age btw). Kicking him to the side is just another child discrimination case, and you can just say you don't understand him...

Almost everyone if not everyone has had a 1-on-1 in this series, and you're allowed to write about that scenario that "seems ooc" because there's someone out there who wishes that they could write who wants to see them interact, and they haven't found you because you haven't made yourself known.

I think over 75% of the cast has what humans would call a trauma disorder, and you guys have got to stop ignoring the fact that Solmare usually just brushes over stuff that genuinely affects them to keep the plot going. They've done it since the beginning, even before the cursed lesson 16.

Non-character-specific stuff under the cut:

You can headcanon and write any character that you want to as aromantic or on the spectrum. Also, news flash: familial, platonic, romantic, and sexual are not the only relationship labels to exist. Go look up "alterous attraction" if you wanna do something that would line up with, you know, emotions that aren't all centered around how our society depicts stuff.

If they're all built like that and inherently different from humans, neurodivergence may not exist to demons but have fun with the headcanons anyways. The world is your oyster.

[bunnis-monsters]

Commissions are open!

You can commission me by messaging me here or discord if interested!

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500 words: $4

1k words: $8

2k words: $14

3k words: $17

5k words: $25

10k words: $50

Note: you can ask for a different amount of words that aren’t listed, and I’ll give you a new price. It’s whatever I feel like giving you with that word amount. I wouldn’t recommend asking for lower than 500, because it would be difficult to convey a story in less words. But you’re the customer… so… do what you want. I will not write above 10k words.

FAQ

How do I commission you?

Simply message me here or on discord! We can discuss what you want, and afterwards you can pay for your commission! Once I start on your fic, you’ll receive a google docs link so you can check on your fic whenever you’d like!

How do you accept your payments?

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What information do you need?

It all depends on what you want! Be prepared to answer my questions. Usually I ask for a basic appearance and body shape, personality, what kind of scenes you want in the story and the tone. I may need more info though, so again be ready to answer questions.

How long will it take?

Generally, it depends on what spot you are on the list and how many words your commission is. Each batch will have a different waitlist and starting time, please pay attention to the advertisements ^^

What do you specialize in?

I prefer writing monster x chubby!fem!reader, but I’ll write for whatever you want, as long as it follows my boundaries below.

Do you post our commissions?

Yes, unless I’ve been asked not to. Any monster x reader commissions I’d prefer to post. If it’s a monster x oc, I’ll make a version where the oc is a reader insert for posting purposes.

What I’ll write

-monster x reader

-NSFW

-romance

-most kinks and fetishes, pls feel free to ask and I won’t judge, but may turn down some things I’m uncomfy with. Few things: ddlg(and the like), vore, gore, diaper stuff, scat, and vomit are some of my limits.

What I can’t write

-nsfw with minors involved

-explicit gore scenes/torture porn

-things that make me personally uncomfortable

-diapers, sexualized age regression, DDLG and all variations

-scat, vomit

(Once you have the story, you can change the reader’s name to be yours, add your physical appearance to the story, whatever you want, idc.)

Refunds

I will gladly give you a refund if I haven’t started on your fic yet or haven’t written enough for it to cost anything.

For example, if you’ve asked for a 2k commission and I’ve only written 100 words, you can receive a refund, anything over that, I’ll at least have to charge you for the amount of words I’ve already written for you.

You will NOT receive a refund for a full story after it’s been written. If you aren’t satisfied I can edit it, but once it’s finished there are no refunds.

Story options

-You can ask for a series with a set word count for chapter. Say you want a 10k word fic but want it in 2k word chapters. This makes it easier for me to get you updated on the story.

-You can request that I keep your story a complete surprise. I’ll only ask you questions and won’t share details!

Disclaimer: I have the right to turn down anyone for any reason I see fit. I can give you a time that I can start on your fic, but because I am human and have responsibilities outside of commissions, some may be late or take longer than I originally thought. If you are in a rush for your commission, please tell me so I can move you up the list! I am very willing to work with you on getting your fic out faster, but please tell me when you request the commission, not after. Otherwise, I will work on it at my own pace ^^

[syltheanti]

DNI:

Proshippers/Darkshippers/Ex antis/anti-antis

Radqueers, pro-contact/neutral contact paraphiles.(Recovering/Recovered paraphiles can interact of course.)

Proship leaning neutrals/Neutrals in general.

Shotacons, lolicons, kodacons, nanacons, xipcons

Shooo

Groomers/Pedophiles

''Consensual abuse'' believers

If you think incest and rape are kinks

TERFS

Fujoshis + fundanshis

Pro-ana/eating disorder glamorizing blogs

Anti furries

Anti therians

Anti age regression + anti pet regression

Anti LGBTQ

Teacher crush community

TCC (True Crime Community, specifically those who glorify serial killers)

Lolita romanticizers

Xenosatanists

Kittycorn supporters

ABDL/Age play/DDLG/etc.

''SFW Kink'' believers

Vore and transfur/transformation fetishists

DragonSnow supporters

Melanie Martinez stans + supporters

Dream stans + supporters

Swifties (Referring to ...those Taylor Swift fans. The extreme ones. People who just like her music and all that are fine. I'm not trying to generalize any of you I promise ^^'')

Draikinator, Sagutoyas and/or EphemeralMoth supporters

Daddy's Little Toy + Tori Woods defenders (You're a creep. Plain and simple. Die in a hole)

Fat fetishists/feeding kink/variants/anything similar to that.

Cluster B Disorder Abuse believers/truthers

Transmedicalists/Transmeds/Transphobes in general

Radfems, Incels, general misandrists + misogynists

Yandere/IRL Yandere/etc. accounts.

Basic criteria.

Updated: June, 19th 2025

Took me long enough to repin this.

Still sticking to my beliefs. I will be hostile to boundary breakers

Just added a new anon to my list lol

Removed some shit

For anti proship flag edits, go to @your-fav-is-antidarkship

Problematic emoji combos to stay clear of if ya need it

Hi There! Welcome to the shitstorm I call my proship hating + vent + rant blog! Send in your rants, confessions, frustrations and gripes you may have with the proship + radqueer community through my inbox if ya want!

I made this blog with anti confessions in mind, even if that's not this blog's primary focus anymore, confessions and asks are welcome! ^w^

Anon list:

🐅🦊

🌟💫🪽

🌌☁️🪽

Toby 🪓🌲

😈💪

⏳⏳

🐾👑

🪽💤

🥀📴

🦆anon

🐍☘️

👑🍄

🪩🐆

🐸⭐

🖤🥀🔪

🕊️🪶

☢️🟩 anon

🪐☄️

🐺🌠

🍌🐟 anon

🧳

🟢(Chromakopia Anon)

🪼🪞

👽🎀

🍦🐀

😼

If you're chill with me, I'm chill with you. Leave me alone and I'll leave you alone. Don't start shit and there won't be any.

[rantblogblog]

IF YOU ARE A PROSHIPPER STAY AWAY FROM ME AND MY BLOG! WHY DID I GET A BUNCH OF BRAINWASHED CHILDREN AND PREDATORS ON HERE REBLOGGING MY SHIT!??

Do Not Interact if you are or support any of the following:

Proshippers/Darkshippers/Ex-antis/anti-antis

AI USERS/LOVERS!

Radqueers

Shotacons, lolicons

Groomers/Pedophiles

"Consensual abuse" believers

If you think incest and rape are kinks

TERFs

Fujoshis + fundanshis

Pro-ana/eating disorder glamorizing blogs

Anti-furries

Anti-therians

Anti-age regression + anti-pet regression

Anti-LGBTQ

Lolita romanticizers

ABDL/Age play/DDLG/etc.

Vore fetishists

Melanie Martinez stans + supporters

Dream stans + supporters

Swifties

Daddy's Little Toy/Tori Woods defenders

MAP/NOMAP apologists

People who make "problematic jokes" and hide behind "dark humor"

"Age is just a number" people

Users of AI-generated CSAM or "lolicon/shota because it's not real" excuses

Alt-right, incel, or manosphere adjacent ideologies

Zoophile apologists or "zoo-neutral"

"Fiction ≠ reality" extremists who use that as a shield for vile content

People who treat triggers and boundaries as jokes or "overreactions"

---------------

YUMESHIPPERS/SELF INSERT ARE OKAY, I AM ONE AND AS LONG AS YOU AINT A PROSHIT!

[veinwires]

when i say "you need to get weirder" i don't mean making a fursona and listening to breakcore like you can do those things and that's cool but i mean completely unmasking, vocal stimming in public. indulging in every fetish you've been slightly curious about, get into paw sniffing, be vocally proud of jacking off to getting flattened by an anvil looney tunes style and i'm so fucking serious. get therian but for objects. kin a rollercoaster or a perfume scent. if you need a community i'm right here bitch i'm a skyscraper 🌃💚 you need infodump to your age regressed friends about the gentle intimacy of endosomatophilic vore, put your favorite character in increasingly questionable situations that make your brain do autistic fireworks and invent a new way to exist and actually fuck a computer instead of just posting about it on tumblr.com. be a fucking pervert in an actually cringe way. be what you've been trained to despise. you're a fucking weirdo.

[prpfz]

🕊️🌹 * ——— 21+ rper looking for other 18+ writers to scratch each other’s itch!

mxf (extreme) age gap plots with older 🍪 if you���d like (not necessary if you’re not comfortable with that!) . I’m talking eyebrow raising age gap. I’m talking visibly, disturbingly large age gap. I am willing to play up to early 60s for my character and would be playing the male in the pairing.

since this is just me shamelessly smutfishing, I am willing to use any fc you desire and give him any traits you desire! I just ask that you’re willing to do the same with the character you play. (we will still discuss things of course!)

some themes and tropes I like:

d+ddy kink / praise kink / loving smut

older man dry spell + inexperienced girl defl+ration ‼️

trusted father figure (dads best friend, teacher, priest, etc)

captured / slave (maybe he’s got her locked up in his shed?)

coquette / soft / sweet feminine vibes vs rugged / brawny / dominating vibes

smol vs tall (extreme height differences welcome)

some ddlg stuff like clothes, nicknames, etc

mild age regression / comfort / aftercare

some things I won’t write:

scat / watersports / non-sexual bodily fluids except saliva and breast milk

super violent noncon

gore / vore / wounds / blood except virginal

anal - I just don’t find it hot! sorry!

please note * ——— I prefer quality over quantity with smut replies. I normally like to write literate to novella, but prefer a few good paras with smut. please like this post if interested and I will reach out!

give a like and anon will get back to you

[tangerineastronaut]

☄️Requests🪐

❣️Currently no guarantee, feel free to send ideas and requests though❣️

Home | Masterlist

Unless you request otherwise, default is Fem!Reader NonIdol! AU

DOs:

Imagines, ot8 headcanons, reactions, smau (texts)

Fem! and Male! reader

AUs

Member x Member

Hard kinks (noncon, somno, etc etc - depends on request)

DON'Ts:

feces/urine/vom

gore/vore/murder of reader or members

little space/regression/ageplay

Anything involving minors or <21

r*pe

member x member noncon

blood related incest (step- is fine)

Temporarily Paused

Multi x Reader

Virgin!Reader Requests

Feel free to dm me if you're ever unsure, no judgement. If you'd like to do an anon request but want to be notified when it's posted, DM me your request and I will post the content without publishing your username with it.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 🪐　 ˚　.　　　　 　　.　　　　　　 ✦　　　.　　˚　🌒　　　　. ✦ 　🌍 　　.  　 　　　˚　　　　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　　˚ 　　　 　　˚　.　*　　. 　˚　　.

[jesi555]

CONTENT !

꩜ WHAT

smut for fem readers, when i post twt links idc what skin colour the person has in the vid and my fics usually dont indicate physical features. but if you'd like specific stuff just send me an ask and i'll find something close to what you like. breeding, exhibitionism, choking/breath play, somno, Quirofilia (hand kink), cnc, degradation/humiliation, impact play, praise, Katoptronophilia, Vicarphilia etc.

꩜ WHO

one piece : luffy, zoro, nami, buggy, aokiji, ussop, sanji, robin, mihawk, doflamingo, roger, hancock, shanks, kidd, law, katakuri, ace, vivi, yamato, crocodile , smoker, lucci.

jjk : gojo, toji, geto, shoko, todo, noritoshi, nanami, sukuna, shiu.

kny : rengoku, uzui+wives, mitsuri, sanemi, obanai, muzan, akaza.

others : sakura, shikamaru, itachi, hidan, madara, tobirama, hashirama, jiraiya, nana(s), loid, chrollo, illumi, kurapika.

꩜ NO GO'S ❌

CANONICALLY MINOR CHARACTERS, amab + male reader + etc, pseudo/step-cest/incest, dom! reader, necro, vore, sacrilege, character x character, pregnant reader (i enjoy the preggo reader fics to some extent but i dont like writing them), orgies, stalking, pegging, rim jobs, age regression, lolicon, ddlg, yandere, foot fetish, bukkake, non-con recording, lactation, breast feeding, mommy kink, watersports, piss kink, domestic abuse, brainwashing, scat, cbt, food play, snowballing, race play, pet play, m-preg, bestiality, eating disorders, master kink, wound fucking, heavy bleeding, dad’s best friend (maybe, ask b4) etc.

[ash-rigby]

Things I Won't Write About

A list of nsfw fiction elements and creatures that I refuse to write about. This is a general list and does not cover the full breadth of things I won't write, so please expect and respect any additional items as they become relevant.

Noncon - Will write dubcon scenarios (unexpected sex pollen, character in an uncontrollable heat/rut, dubious sex magic/science experiments etc.) and mild cnc (pretty much just somnophilia and hunter/prey roleplay; I'm not comfortable writing characters doing rape roleplay) but not full-on nonconsent.

Pedophilia

Sexual Age Play/Regression

Incest

Zoophilia/Bestiality - Will write quadruped species (dragons, sphynxes, manticores etc.) but with the stipulation of them having humanoid sapience.

Misgendering/Detransition Kink

Necrophilia/Snuff

Gore (blood is fine; no guts, dismemberment etc.)

Scat

Piss/Omorashi

Diaper Fetish

Fart/Burp Fetish

Vomit/Sick/Sneeze Fetish

Fat Fetish - I write fat characters; just not in a fetishistic light.

Feeding/Force Feeding

Pregnancy Fetish - As in: sex with a pregnant person; will write breeding kink.

Vore (of any variety.)

Breath Play

Creatures

W*ndigo (By name. Deer skull-headed characters aren’t w*ndigo.)

Sk*nwalkers

Golems

Zombies (The mindless, flesh-eating variety. Other undead beings like liches, ghosts, skeletal creatures etc. are fine.)

Established deities from real religions/belief systems

Creatures/Characters from existing media (I.e. Pokemon, Digimon, Yautja, Xenomorphs, Symbiotes, Mass Effect/Star Wars alien species, Slashers etc.). Nothing against these, but in general, I prefer to keep my smut-writing in the realms of original fiction.

[quinkyace]

it's too bad there isn't someone here to count my stretchmarks and for me to tease them that they could be the future cause of more marks on my body.

or going into detail how i would make the perfect little incubator for them after reforming them. particularly about how i would purposefully wear tight clothes so my pregnant gut would be on display for everyone to see. i want everyone to look at my body and know i'm unmistakably pregnant while never truly knowing i reformed another person to create my own child💕

[sister-mommy]

ok i saw some of these so i made my own!

have you ever had...

1. a fantasy you've had about someone taboo (like doctor, boss, teacher, parent, sibling)

2. a secret thing you did to get off that is too embarrassing to tell

3. a detailed fantasy about a crush

4. a fantasy you had that involves something unreal (like tentacles or vore)

5. a fantasy that involves pain or torture

6. a fantasy that goes against you usual position/dynamic (skip if you have no lean)

7. a fantasy that involves intoxication

8. a fantasy that involves somno

9. a fantasy you've had about someone unavailable (married, dating and so on)

10. a fantasy that involves pet or age regression

11. a fantasy about theoretical incest

12. a fantasy about an imaginary person in a position of power over you

13. a fantasy that goes against your real life morals

14. a fantasy about public humiliation

15. a fantasy that involves carplay

and what was it?

[cyncerity]

Just finished your new storeshifter au and, if I may add to the angst train, how long did it take for Sapnap to eat in the same place as his partners?

I'd assume he would have some trauma surrounding eating/chewing/swallowing near people after everything that happened with Bad and I would bet that sudden change in behavior would be extremely worrying to Karl and Quackity

ANON YOURE A GENIUS

yes absolutely, it takes a long while for Sapnap to get used to eating around people again after the Bad incident. Hell, he’d probably have a hard time eating. I think he’d play it off to Karl and Quackity as just wanting to eat by himself but then he’d go off and just…not eat.

also i can imagine this happening in the middle period between the fiancés leaving after the Bad incident and them finding the store, so they’re just traversing through the dangerous woods. Yknow, probably the least favorable place to be starving yourself given that you need energy to walk and fight off threats.

(tw for a little talk of fatal vore and digestion here, nothing canon just intrusive thoughts)

I can imagine that Sapnap has a hard time with swallowing anything for a while. He won’t drink anything warm cause it reminds him of his dad’s body heat when he swallowed him. He won’t chew anything because all of a sudden he’s back to the forest in that fight with that bird and it’s his dad that’s getting crunched in his teeth. God forbid he try eating any sort of animal; the first time he tried to eat meat after the incident it wasn’t fully cooked and the blood in his mouth sent him into the worst panic attack of his life.

Worse yet, when he does have a full stomach, the sounds of him digesting his food make him want to sob. Countless times after the incident he had tried to force himself to eat. After all, he was the only one of his trio who could fight, he had to get over himself and stay strong for them. But every time, he’d dream of a scenario where he hadn’t been lucid enough to let his dad out, where he had died within him, and they only sounds he’d woken up to were the gurgles of his own stomach and he couldn’t handle that.

He survives solely on water for as long as a living being can. Karl and Quackity notice him getting weaker, but he pushes off every attempt they make to comfort him. He doesn’t deserve to be comforted. He’s a monster.

Eventually he passes out and Quackity and Karl give him a very stern talking to, and he’s no longer allowed to wander off while they eat cause they want to make sure he’s eating too.

He has a breakdown when they make soup one night because now that he’s with them, instead of it being just his dad, it’s his boyfriends, too. He can almost feel them struggling and screaming, and the warm, full feeling in his stomach when he swallows only makes it worse. He won’t tell them why he can’t eat. They can’t figure it out, but eventually they find things he’ll eat by ruling out what he won’t. Nothing crunchy, nothing warm, no meat. Karl and Quackity begin to stock up on any berries they find, honey when they can come across it, and whatever roots they can easily grind into a smoothie-like mixture just to keep something in his stomach.

It takes a while for him to get over himself, and he probably still can’t properly eat some things, and he regresses a ton when he eats one of his fiancés for the first time (still trying to figure out how that happens but i’ll write it eventually), but after a while of Q and Karl being ok with it and getting more comfortable, he starts to feel better about himself.

[maladaptiveobsession]

Hi! Wellcome to my blog! Below I will introduce myself and discuss my boundaries. You can find my masterlist at the bottom of this post.

Introduction —

Please call me Mal!

My pronouns are xe/xem or she/him.

I’m genderqueer, agenderflux, and electio aroace.

I’m currently writing for hazbin hotel, degrees of lewdity, baki the grappler, and slashers.

My blog contains immensely dark, nsfw themes; all works tagged appropriately. Please exercise your right to block my page if my content makes you uncomfortable. I am not accountable for your comfort nor will I entertain hostility.

Boundaries —

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT; MDNI

Please state your age in your bio before interacting! You will be blocked if otherwise. If you aren’t comfortable stating your precise age, please at least somehow indicate that you are old enough to interact with adult content. That being said, I have neither the time nor energy to confirm the age of every blog that interacts.

Below are my kink request guidelines. If your kink is listed under the “not happening” or “may consider” section, it’s not because I care what content you consume, rather because I either have no desire to interact with it or I am simply not confident writing for it. Assume all unmentioned kinks are on the table until otherwise specified.

Content I strictly will not write for:

age play

age/animal regression

beastiality/zoophilia

chasity

cuckholding/cheating

diapering

eproctophilia

scat

underaged characters

vore

Content I may consider writing for on a case by case basis:

a/b/o dynamics

cannibalism

emetophilia

foot play/worship

force feeding

forced feminization/sissification

incest

lactation

moresome/orgy

mutilation/gore/guro

necrophilia

pet play

psuedo-incest

tentacles

tickling

watersports

Content I will happily write for:

age difference

breeding/impregnation

dacryphilia

dubcon

knife play

manhandling

noncon

omorashi

overstimulation/forced orgasm

period play/blood play

play fighting/wrestling

praise

purity kink/deflowering

sadomasochism

size difference

somnophilia

sounding

stuckage

teratophilia

threesome/foursome

voice kink

yandere

Masterlist —

🔞: nsfw

🧷: sfw/mostly sfw

🔞/🧷 : both

Baki the Grappeler

Kiyosumi Katou period headcanons [🔞/🧷]

“Titfucking” — 2023 kinktober day 2 with Baki Hanma. [🔞]

“Teratophilia” — 2023 kinktober with naga!Katsumi Orochi. [🔞]

Degrees of Lewdity

“Pegging” — 2023 kinktober day 1 with Kylar. [🔞]

“Boot worship” — 2023 kinktober day 3 with Sydney.[🔞]

“Robin’s shocking discovery” — Robin finds the porn you drew of him. [🔞]

“Leighton’s delight” — Leighton discovers the porn you wrote of him. [🧷]

“Too little, too late” pt. 1 — LIs react to the player’s suicide. [🧷]

“Too little, too late” pt.2 — Bailey reacts to the player’s suicide [🧷]

“Magic Pocket Pussy” — The NPCs acquire a magical pocket pussy synced to the player. [🔞]

“Pubic Thoughts” — How the LIs prefer the player’s pubes to be. [🔞]

“That cute guy is kissing me!” — The player doesn’t recognize their Alex, Eden, or Bailey while intoxicated, but still finds them attractive. [🧷]

“Remy’s runt” — Yandere!Remy becomes infatuated with his littlest, mot obedient cow/bull. [🔞]

“Bloody Pussy” — How each DOL LI feels about period sex. [🔞]

DOL kink scale — How kinky are the DOL characters? [🧷]

“Your body was always mine” — You owe bailey, but are short on cash. He takes your virginity as payment. [🔞]

“Jealousy and isolation” — How the yandere DOL NPCs might isolate the player. [🧷]

“Pussy Munching” — How much do the DOL NPCs like eating pussy? Do they prefer to give or receive head? [🔞]

Hazbin Hotel

Yandere Vox headcanons [🧷]

Yandere Valentino headcanons [🔞]

Yandere Valentino/reader/Angel Dust [🔞]

Yandere Alastor headcanons [🔞]

Yandere Adam headcanons [🧷]

Yandere Charlie headcanons 🧷]

“Safe and sound” — yandere!Charlie/reader [🧷]

Slashers

“Misunderstanding” — yandere!Rusty Nail x reader [🔞]