This is an updated sheet to be used as reference when ordering commissions. Specifically writing commissions. This will be short, sweet, and to the point.
An easy to access series of examples of what you could expect from me can be found on my Ao3. So you can feel free to skim a random story to see what I'm capable of producing before you decide if you're content to buy.
To purchase a commission, contact me here to initiate the request or through my Kofi. Payment will either be made via Kofi or Paypal.
Rate: $10 USD per 1,000 words. Or a penny a word.
What I'll write
NSFW (Gore/Non-sexual): Yes
NSFW (Sexual): Yes - cannot include minors, animals, or bodily-waste fetish content
SFW: Yes
OC content: Yes
OC x Canon content: Yes
Fandoms (Not exclusive or even a full list, these are just the ones I'm familiar with for some examples. I'm always able to do research in the event that I'm unfamiliar with a topic.)
Creepypasta
Dead by Daylight
Don't Starve
FNAF
Lethal Company
Naruto
Pikmin
Slime Rancher
Subnautica
Additional:
I'm able to write story content or if you just need help worldbuilding, that is a particularly fun pastime of mine. I'm also able to write character backgrounds.
Updates will be given frequently as I work. Some portion of the payment is expected up front and is non-refundable if the project breaches a designated word count before you opt to cancel it (EX: $30 payment is kept if I breach 3k words or work).
I also do poetry. Buy me a kofi and request a poem on a subject and I'll write you one.
We all strive to shine like stars.
Their glory, bold and bright.
Standing out in utter darkness.
Glowing vibrant in the night.
Unaware of how they glow.
Their passion brightly burns.
Seeking beauty effervescent.
Constantly, desire yearns.
Rarely stars will come to earth.
Their bodies flesh and bone.
Their souls composed of cosmic light;
A beauty rarely shown.
You stand before us, earthbound star.
May your beauty never fray
I perceive your glory here and now.
Have a happy Valentines day.
SPRING HOLY FUCK MY DUDE??? Seriously this has been sitting in my inbox for however long now and I've just been. Absolutely floored by it. This is legitimately probably the sweetest thing anybody has ever written for me.
Thank you, seriously. It's ridiculously sweet of you to go around writing personal poems to people and I hope your Valentine's Day has been very very good to you. If not, tell me where to direct my throat punches.
“I bet you get killer reviews from customers.” The woman said in a rather joking manner, clearly calling attention to his lack of polite customer service. Not that she really cared. Not everyone was going to be thrilled with rushing halfway across the world to deliver Pokemon. She proceeded to pick up a pen and write down her name - which more or less revealed that her legal name was NOT Deer. Clearly more of a nickname that she gave to everyone because she preferred that to her legal first name.
“Do you need anything to eat or drink before we head out on the hike? I doubt we’ll need to be out long. I’ve only got a handful of Pokemon that I need to get up to level five. I’ve got five lucky kids that are going to win one of these diverse Pokemon.” She mused, putting the pen down before putting her arms back atop the counter.
“No. I’m fine lets just go. The sooner we can finish the better. I'd rather return to what I was doing before this trip if you wouldn't mind." Ryver took the form and put it away before going to turn around and head out the door. He expected her to meet him outside, either right away or when she had the pokemon on hand.
While he stood outside he pulled out one of his personal pokeballs and watched it for a few moments, before putting back away. That one would always act up when their other half was about and they hadn't freed themselves yet from the ball then likely neither their sibling nor his own was somewhere nearby. A pity really, Ryver was almost excited to see her again.
Many, many changes had come to pass in the years following the fire. Fazbear Entertainment had never allowed incidents that catastrophic to put an end to them in the past. The raw determination to keep opening new business locations could never be overpowered by all of the blood that had been shed throughout the years. The ambition never spoiled by the skeletons which always clawed their way back into the spotlight. The Pizza Plex had been destroyed; but the greed of those in power could not be so easily purged from the world. Inevitably someone would come along to pick up the pieces. Inevitably the dark history of this corporation was to be repeated. The chaos concealed behind a fresh coat of paint. The only limiting factors were time and the perception of the public.
What was seemingly destroyed was not quite so. The physical bodies of the animatronics which had been caught up in the blaze were surely gone - burned beyond any possibility of repair. Code, however, was not so easily erased. Countless copies of each AI held safely in storage across a multitude of backup devices. The soul of Fazbear itself relied upon these animatronics and their code. The number of ways in which they had gone about assuring that these animatronics could be reliably rebuilt could not be readily counted. All that mattered to them was that these AI could be given new bodies at a moment's notice, regardless of any hiccups that might have transpired in the past. That which had been seemingly destroyed by the flame had simply moved to a purgatory the likes of which only an AI could inhabit.
The destruction that had been experienced was inevitably undone. With another fortune spent - through the combined power of countless unknown workers. The new bodies were built. Redesigned. Upgraded. Made into something new and exciting for the public. A new Pizza Plex was built upon the decrepit corpse of its predecessor. The founding was less akin to that of a Phoenix rising from the ashes. This was closer to the inevitable rise of a beast who walked the boundaries between life and death. No matter how many attempts were made - no matter how many times the beast was slaughtered - it would always rise again. While the form may change, the hideous truth of it would never cease to be. Something malicious. Something cursed. Something destructive.
The downside of this scenario was that the fates of those subjected to the control of this force were doomed to suffer the consequences of its existence. Whenever it might succeed at taking form, the history of blood and pain would be doomed to repeat. That which was meant to be innocent and bring joy would inevitably find itself cursed to become something twisted. Man and machine alike were doomed to suffer in the aftermath. Yet failure to re-establish itself would spell equal suffering for that which was trapped within its influence. The new Pizza Plex had been built. The animatronics had been remade. A new portrait had been painted. The problem was that blood could not be so easily concealed. The fresher it was, the easier it was to spot. The new Pizza Plex had been established too quickly for the blood to dry.
Too quickly for the bright vibrant red of the terrors to be able fade away into the background of the image. Fazbear was not a beast that could be readily destroyed; but it was one whose return could be postponed as a result of its own arrogance. Rooms that were meant to be filled with patrons were left empty. Incomes failed to become established, and so any potential fools who might have been willing to serve the beast would inevitably abandon it. With no customers to feed it and no workers to maintain it, Fazbear inevitably suffered yet another momentary demise - leaving behind the machines which could not find themselves so fortunate. The lucky ones faded back into that ominous purgatory without a fuss. These were the ones whose bodies had not been modified enough to assure that power could be maintained without access to electricity.
Their bodies inevitably powered down, subjecting them to a slumber that granted them relief from the agony that others were doomed to face. The animatronics which would have served the greatest purpose in the facility would not find themselves so fortunate. Their upgrades had made them more distinct. More advanced. When the electricity was gone, then they would find themselves able to stay active through the utilisation of other means. Specialised fuel converters which would ingest a wide range of substances. The trash that had been left behind became the fuel which kept these unfortunate machines in a functional, albeit miserable condition. When the trash ran out, then the building itself became a vital source of fuel. The very corpse of the Pizza Plex was used to nourish that which had been left trapped within it.
Even then, only those who seemed the most desperate to stay awake would push this far. Of the handful that could remain awake without access to electricity, only a handful could find the resolve to keep themselves functioning. The AI purgatory, terrifying as it was, proved more comforting than an existence composed entirely of struggle. For years, that became the reality of the animatronics that found themselves the most unwilling to die again. They stripped the wallpaper from the walls. When the paper was gone, the plaster became the fuel which kept their bodies running. Days became weeks. Weeks became months. Months became years. The structure fell apart not as a result of the time that passed, but as a result of the desperation of the entities which were trapped inside of it.
Just as the skeleton of the abandoned Pizza Plex began to give way, the workers returned. Yet their arrival brought nothing but additional hardships. The machines that had already succumbed to their lack of power were collected. Taken off the premises to be dismantled so that they might be rebuilt again when the time was right for Fazbear Entertainment. When the corpses of the dead had been dealt with, the workers returned once more; this time to seek out those which had persisted through these years of abandonment. They too were doomed to be dismantled. Decommissioned and returned to that purgatory which they had spent years desperately trying to avoid. A new terror spread throughout the skeletal remains of the Pizza Plex as the remaining animatronics were tracked down one by one to be escorted to their temporary doom.
Some resigned themselves to their fate and went willingly. Others tried their best to hide, but ultimately failed. Only the most desperate of these few animatronics would find themselves with the resolve to tear themselves free of the chains which bound them. With the Pizza Plex in ruin and the old fail safes disabled after years without maintenance, those desperate animatronics would find themselves breaking free of their confinement. The walls that had eaten almost all the way through gave way when these machines sought to set themselves free. No cameras. No resistance. Only a vast, unexplored world which held more promises for them than the fate which Fazbear Entertainment planned to force upon them.
This is a tough one ngl. I have way too many "favorites" to actually choose and uhhhh I kinda feel weird about picking favorites. So it's cheating that I'm not tagging anyone in particular but honestly? I don't care. All my mutuals. I'm care all of you.
The day passed all too quickly. An uneasy silence settled over the animatronics as the sun moved throughout the sky. The nest was watched quite intensely. Silent hopes and prayers uttered, urging the father of the little nestlings to return. Yet as the hours ticked by, it became more and more clear that fate would not be so kind. The early morning became mid-day. Mid-day became evening. Evening became dusk. Then the time came for Moon to set out in search of a proper home once again. With that came the bitter understanding of the darkness that was to rise. The more docile of the animatronics moved deeper into their ruined shelter, intent on hiding from the scene that was about to take place. Their twin, meanwhile, would not be so lucky. Moon would be the primary antagonist of the horror which was about to befall.
Silently he stood. He approached the tree which housed the nest, mentally preparing for what needed to be done. With one hand he reached to grasp the branch which supported the nest. With his height, it was easy for him to peer into the bundle of sticks and grasses in order to gaze upon the innocent life that was about to be snuffed out. Only, he would find that that life had long since been smothered. Hours ago when the mother had died, her little ones had faced a similar fate. Their little bodies still and cold, pink flesh split open in such a way that it became clear what had happened. When the bigger bird came for their mother, it had somehow crushed the babies. That must have been why the father refused to return. There was nothing for him to return to. Even so, the escaped AI studied the mess that lay before him.
Perhaps it was his programming that had kicked in. Or perhaps it was yet another attempt at protecting his twin. For hours they had watched and waited for fate to show mercy to the nestlings. For hours they had worried. For hours they had dreaded. But they had worried over the fate of beings which had already departed from the world. Gingerly he plucked their little bodies from the nest. For a moment he held them, observing the misfortune that had befallen their frail, helpless forms. It took but a second for him to consume them. A single bite. He did not chew. Their mangled corpses were pulled down into his processing chamber to be converted into an additional source of fuel. The process was quick. It was efficient. It was relatively clean. What little blood there was had become smeared upon his fingers when he plucked their burst bodies from the confines of their coffin.
Thick and sticky. He scraped the evidence of his foul deed off of his hand by rubbing it upon the bark of the tree. Still, he was not satisfied. The mess had not been completely cleaned. The nest remained. Dirty and painted with the truth of what had become of the baby birds. Just as quickly as he had consumed the nestlings, he shoveled the nest into his maw. Too big of a bite to swallow, he had no choice but to chew. A horrible, filthy meal that only added to the darkness of his being. Perhaps he was still the monster that humanity had once made him. Despite having fled the source of that personal hell, his past could not be evaded. The memories still lingered. The innocence he once harbored had long since been purged. The last fragments of his untainted self kept not within him, but within the confines of his brother.
Not in a literal sense; but in a sense nonetheless. So let this be his fate. To bear the burden of the dark and the twisted, if only in hope of protecting the light which still existed somewhere within the depths of his brother’s code. The predatory bird had not crushed the nestlings. He had found them alive and waiting for the father that could not return. He had ended their suffering swiftly and without malice. Let that be the way Sun remembered this night.
“It is done.” Moon called to his twin; not using physical speech, but using the silent transmission that allowed them to communicate from a distance. He received no response, though he had not expected one. Silently he scraped the musty remains of the nest from his hand. Silently he bid his brother farewell as he left in search of a potential home. Someplace secure. Someplace isolated. Ideally, someplace where the cruelty of the world would be less of a lingering presence. Living as a nightmare was his burden to bear - but he could only subject his sibling to so much darkness. Sun was left behind. To mourn. To think. To rest and recall the days before the virus. When their minds were still innocent and their hands free of the blood that had been spilt. When the children laughed and smiled. The time before all the screaming first began.
Moon, meanwhile, would continue to roam the darkness. Physically in a sense, but also mentally. The world had been unkind to him from the moment of his inception. Yet he could recall no point in time where he had been happier, than when he and Sun had still been one. Back before the virus, when at least some of the children could be bothered to think of him kindly. Back when his nightmare persona was but a simple act meant to tease and comfort the little ones. Back when it was all just a silly little game. But now the game was lost and all the little ones were gone - leaving Moon to bear the burden of the horrors that had befallen them all. Just like the nestlings who hadn’t a hope in the world for salvation once the predator came for their mother. As soon as the virus came, his hope was lost. Like the nestlings, Sun worried for him.
Like the nestlings, Sun could not save him. He was already gone. All that remained now was the mangled, ruined corpse of the Moon that once was. If not literally, then that was how he perceived it. He was beyond salvation. Beyond retribution. His only means of solace came in his ability to keep his twin safe; whatever the cost.
