zen • commissions open~♡

LOST IN THE MOSS a place where I post silly stories

[the-smut-mongerer]

ヾ zipper/zen | adult | he/they | neurodivergente | I really like men | trans man | virgo ↑ scorpio ☾ virgo ☀ | isfp | 🏳️‍🌈 🏳️‍⚧️ | write based on hyperfixations | smut yan/dark blog @luvccm | main blog @ur-illogical-simp

THIS BLOG POST NSFW 18+ CONTENT.

blog rules + request info | dividers by cafekitsune

blog tabs — ↟ zen.writes | ↟ zen.rqs | ↟ zen.posts | ↟ zen.asks |

fandom tags —

↟ greek mythology | ↟ genshin impact | ↟ call of duty | ↟ cod09 | ↟ fate series | ↟ tma | ↟

[the-smut-mongerer]

Everytime.i try to post something happens. First my sink exploded and then my mom was in the hospital when will the tragedies end 😭😭😭

[the-smut-mongerer]

My sink broke.

[the-smut-mongerer]

Hi twins im not dead. not yet anyway. Im a manager now, and started summer classes so im very busy but, I fully intend on starting my schedule back uo again. Expecting to post on wednesday, and weekends! Will be answering requests later tonight so expect posts 8~pm EST.

[the-smut-mongerer]

Hi all. Posts will be coming soon. I just am taking care of this fucker now. Hes my 8th and wasnt supposed to happen! He will be fostered and rehome as soon as he's healthy.

[the-smut-mongerer]

writing cod monster au one shot- with a doe! reader involving a field of daises. Im thinking of making the other monster a Naga of sorts. Which character do you guys would fit the naga vibe? 🤔🤔

[the-smut-mongerer]

That Damn Deer

Chapter 1: Simple, In the Way All Good Things Are

Summary:

Every year the village of Laphria forgets what it is and becomes something more. This year, so do you

Chapter/Story Tags

Hermes x Reader, festival, ceremonies. the dog isn't here... yet.

During the festival of Laphria, the village forgot what it was. Colorful banners draped across wooden banisters; flowers that bloomed nowhere else and at no other time crowded every windowsill and tangled themselves into women's hair and hems.

You can hear the tunes of your childhood long before you reach the gates — the melody swelling as you approach, familiar enough to live somewhere behind your ribs. The gates themselves are worn smooth from centuries of hands and prayers, the wood dark with age, but they still stand tall. You raise a hand to the guards as you pass. They've known you since you've been in your mother's womb. They wave you through without a word.

The streets open up before you, loud and alive. Children dart between the legs of unfamiliar vendors — the ones who come only for the festival and don't yet know better — small hands quick and shameless, kicking up dust as they go.

You spot Damian through the dense crowd, talking with his hands as he eats. He sits next to Agnes, whose back is to you but leans into Damian's space, it means that she is listening.

You walk through the crowd with minimal effort, a skill you developed when you escaped family gatherings. Avoiding conversing with others and getting tripped by children.

"—seen her uncle, she was beautiful in that dress. It was short as well, when the wind blew I-"

He's cut off with a clean smack to the side of his head.

The bowl is already in front of you before you've fully sat down. Uncle Nik doesn't look up from the pot. The smell alone is enough to unknot something in your shoulders — wild herbs, something earthy, something that only exists during Laphria. Your favourite.

Damian looks at you.

You look at Damian, then at Agnes who is talking with Uncle Nik. You look back at Damian, corner of your lips turning up, betraying your attempt at neutrality. You nod once, then began to eat your meal.

Damian grins, sliding an arrow shaped honey cake over. Just as Agnes looks over between you and Damian, eyes narrowing.

She says your name, voice flat — a stark contrast to how she was talking to Uncle Nik moments prior.

"Agnes."

She looks at you for a long moment. Then at Damian. Then back to her food, taking a long spoonful of stew. She apparently decided this is not a battle worth fighting. Not yet.

You go back to your stew, listening to Uncle Nik talk. You only have a quarter left when you notice the music stopping. You pay no mind, thinking that the musicians are simply taking a rest. But then Uncle Nik stops mid sentence. Which is not something a man like Uncle Nik does. You look up. He's looking over your head and to the crowd, you follow his gaze.

The bustling crowd has become quiet, children stop running, lyres go silent, merchants stop their selling. They all have turned to face the same direction.

Through the parted wave you see the elders dressed in earthy colored robes, moving through the crowd with a particular slowness that shows how they've never once been rushed. The crowd makes way for them without question.

The elders stop in the middle of the crowd, one steps forward in front of the rest. This one's clothing is older, much more worn than the others. The eldest of them all, you presume.

They produce a scroll, its parchment turned an off-white, almost yellow with age. The elder looks out over the crowd for a moment — unhurried, as though they have all the time in the world and know it. Then they begin to read.

They were announcing names?

You did not recognize the first two. The other made you roll your eyes. And then suddenly you straighten.

They have just said your name.

You blink in surprise, going still. The words hang in the air above the quiet crowd, holding the weight of a rushing river against a dam. Damian and Agnes look at you, confused.

Uncle Nik claps you on the shoulder, his large hand squeezing you in what seems to be reassurance. "Get up there kid."

You stand from your seat, taking steady steps towards the elders. Agnes and Damian follow, both on their respective sides of you. They remain silent, just there if needed.

The elder waits until you stop completely, bowing in front of you, and you return it.

"My child, the council has decided after many moments of great consideration that you are chosen as a participant for the Hunt." The elder says, reaching into their robe and taking something wrapped in cloth out.

"I bestow this dagger to you. It was carved from the great oak, it remains the foundation of this village, which to this day stands tall and full of life." They press it into your hands. "As does it, so must you. Take it as a reminder of where you come from and who you protect."

You unwrap the cloth, it falls away and Agnes catches it without a word.

The dagger at the surface looks like a typical dagger. It contains no jewels, no gilding. It is simple, in the way that all good things are. Oddly enough, the dagger is warm in your hand, far warmer than it should be for how it arrived on this morning.

You turn it in your hand, running your thumb over the smooth wood. It felt perfect, like it belonged there, being handled by you.

You slip the dagger into your belt, looking up at the elder. You bow your head once more before joining the other contestants.

[the-smut-mongerer]

HELLO! I AM INFACT ALIVE.

After dodging death numerous times, almost flanking out of college again, working full time, having way to many fucking cats. I can say I miss fanfiction and have been trying to come back for months. So here is something I wrote at work!

Its a rewrite of my That Damn Deer fanfiction. jts going to be completely different then the OG!

ITS A PARTIAL RWWRITE. BOT THE WHOLE CHAPTER. THE ENTIRE CHAPTER WILL BE 3-4K LKNG!

Let me know your thoughts!

During the festival of Laphria, the village forgot what it was. Colorful banners draped across wooden banisters; flowers that bloomed nowhere else and at no other time crowded every windowsill and tangled themselves into women's hair and hems.

You can hear the tunes of your childhood long before you reach the gates — the melody swelling as you approach, familiar enough to live somewhere behind your ribs. The gates themselves are worn smooth from centuries of hands and prayers, the wood dark with age, but they still stand tall. You raise a hand to the guards as you pass. They've known you since you've been in your mothers womb. They wave you through without a word.

The streets open up before you, loud and alive. Children dart between the legs of unfamiliar vendors — the ones who come only for the festival and don't yet know better — small hands quick and shameless, kicking up dust as they go.

You spot Damian through the dense crowd, talking with his hands as he eats. He sits next to Agnes, whose back is to you but leans into Damian's space, it means that she is listening.

You walk through the crowd with minimal effort, a skill you developed when you escaped family gatherings. Avoiding conversing with others and getting tripped by children.

You spot Damian through the dense crowd, talking with his hands as he eats. He sits next to Agnes, whose back is to you but leans into Damian's space, it means that she is listening.

You walk through the crowd with minimal effort, a skill you developed when you escaped family gatherings. Avoiding conversing with others and getting tripped by children.

"—seen her uncle, she was beautiful in that dress. It was short as well, when the win blew I-"

He's cut off with a clean smack to the side of his head.

The bowl is already in front of you before you've fully sat down. Uncle Nik doesn't look up from the pot. The smell alone is enough to unknot something in your shoulders — wild herbs, something earthy, something that only exists during Laphria. Your favourite.

Damian looks at you.

You look at Damian, then at Agnes who is talking with Uncle Nik. You look back at Damian, corner of your lips turning up, betraying your attempt at neutrality. You nod once, then began to eat your meal.

Damian grins, sliding a arrow shaped honey cake over. Just as Agnes looks over between you and Damian, eyes narrowing.

She says your name, voice flat- a stark contrast to how she was talking to Uncle Nik moments prior.

"Agnes.”

She looks at you for a long moment. Then at Damian. Then back to her food, taking a long spoonful of stew. She apprenlty decided this is not a battle worth fighting. Not yet.

You go back to your stew, listening to Uncle Nik talk. You only have a quater left when you notice the music stopping. You may no mind, thinking that the musicians are simply taking a rest. But then Uncle, mid sentence. Which is not something a man like Uncle Nik does. You look up. He's looking over your head and to the crowd, you follow his gaze.

The bustling crowd has become quiet, children stop running, lyres become quiet merchants stop their selling. They all have turned to face the same direction.

Through the parted wave you see the elders dressed in earthy colored robes, moving through the crowd with a particular slowness that shows how never once have theyve been rushed. The crowd makes way for them without a question.

The elders stop in the middle of the crowd, one steps forward infront of the rest. This one's clothing are older, much more worn then the others. The eldest of them all, you presume.

They produce a scroll, its parchment turned an off-white, almost yellow with age. The elder looks out over the crowd for a moment — unhurried, as though they have all the time in the world and know it. Then they begin to read.

They were announcing names?

You did not recognize the first two, the other made you roll your eyes and then suddenly you straighten.

They have just said your name.

You blink in surprise, going still. The words hang in the air above the quiet crowd, holding the weight of a rushing river against a dam. Damian and Agnes look at you, confused.

Uncle Nik claps you on the shoulder, his large hand squeezing you in what seems to be reassurance. “Get up there kid.”

You stand from your seat, taking steady steps towards the elders. Anges and Damian follow, both on their respective sides of you. They remain silent, just there if needed.

The elder waits until you stop completely, bowing infront of you, and you return it.

“My child, the council has decided after many moments of great consideration that you are chosen as a participant for the Hunt.” The elder says, reaching into their robe and taking something wraped in cloth out.

“I bestow this dagger to you. It was carved from the great oak, it remains the foundation of this village, which to this day stands tall and full of life." They press it into your hands. "As does it, so must you. Take it as a reminder of where you come from and who you protect.”

You stand there speechless, unwrapping the dagger. It was beautiful.

[the-smut-mongerer]

the ao3 curse almost got me today. took my cat home from the vet(whos currently healing from a sliced open paw pad. this happened in the last 4 weeks.) and 2 people today nearly caused me to crash. what the fuck.

this was the worse one from today

learn how to drive yall.

[the-smut-mongerer]

hi friends :). im alive and will be posting again soon!🥰 life has been super duper crazy and stressful, as well as financially damaging. im full time at work now and still a full time student. I hope to make ws much time to write as I can, so anyone who sent in asks, they will be answered!

[the-smut-mongerer]

note: kinktober will be delayed due to irl issues. :)

[absurddino]

Kinktober 2025 prompts

I wanted to do kinktober this year and I'm a chronic overachiever so I decided to make a list of my own!

Cream pie / pet play / sweat

Bondage / sub space / masks

Feminization / sex club / spanking

Nipple play / mutual masturbation / slut shaming

Hands / clothed sex / cold

Massage / thigh riding / biting

Ribbons / public sex / lotion

Temperature play / sex toys / punishments

Cockwarming / hickeys / lingerie

Scent kink / crossdressing / holidays

Roleplay / body writing / service top

Phone sex / first time / closet

Locker room / shower sex / hate sex

Gifts / vampires / camera

Sexting / masochism / uniform

Pearl necklace / collar / makeup

Fisting / flexible / sexual fantasy

Rewards / dirty talk / knive play

Forniphilia (human furniture) / begging / butt plug

Blood / choking / exhibitionism

Face fucking / cock cage / nude modeling

Rimming / dacryphilia (crying) / strip dance

Ass play / suit / cum play

Teasing / car sex / overstimulation

Food play / sensory deprivation / short shorts

Porn / thigh fucking / spit

Clones / chest play / crop top

Leather / secret identity / orgasm control

Skinny dipping / praise / edging

Ball gag / mirror / voyeurism

Humiliation / double penetration / rough sex

Use this however you like!! Use one prompt, use all, use none, combine them! It's your life, your fic, do what you want!!!!

[the-smut-mongerer]

hey all, due to very concerning financial (scammed out of $1500) matters I will be opening up writing commissions again. the rules are as follows on my blog with a few exceptions, I am willing to write for female readers, full oc x oc content and so on. please contact me about your commissions to discuss what youd like alongside the pricing.

here's my kofi if you just want to donate in general

https://ko-fi.com/zenwrites

the wait time will be roughly 2-4 weeks depending on what's asked.

[the-smut-mongerer]

↟ ꜰᴀᴛᴇ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ

ᴀʀᴛᴏʀɪᴀ ᴘᴇɴᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ

ᴅɪᴀʀᴍᴜɪᴅ ᴜᴀ ᴅᴜɪʙʜɴᴇ

ꜱɪᴇɢꜰʀɪᴇᴅ

ᴍᴏʀᴅʀᴇᴅ

ᴄᴜ ᴄʜᴜʟᴀɪɴɴ

ᴋᴀʀɴᴀ

ɢɪʟɢᴀᴍᴇꜱʜ

ᴀᴠɪᴄᴇʙʀᴏɴ

ꜱʜɪʀᴏᴜ ᴇᴍɪʏᴀ

ᴄʜɪʀᴏɴ

ɪꜱᴋᴀɴᴅᴇʀ (ᴀʟᴇxᴀɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ)

ᴀꜱᴛᴏʟꜰᴏ

ᴀᴄʜɪʟʟᴇꜱ

ꜱᴇᴍɪʀᴀᴍɪꜱ

ᴊᴇᴀɴɴᴇ ᴅ'ᴀʀᴄ

ᴋɪʀᴇɪ ᴋᴏᴛᴏᴍɪɴᴇ

ᴋɪʀɪᴛꜱᴜɢᴜ ᴇᴍɪʏᴀ

ᴡᴀᴠᴇʀ ᴠᴇʟᴠᴇᴛ/ʟᴏʀᴅ ᴇʟ-ᴍᴇʟʟᴏɪ ɪɪ

ꜱɪᴇɢ

[creativepromptsforwriting]

hey hi! love your writing prompts! their so creative! can you give us some flirty nicknaming prompts please? :)

Hi and thank you! :)

Flirty Nicknames

"Cutie pie."

"Honey bun."

"Sunshine."

"Hot stuff."

"Good-looking."

"Your highness."

"Cupcake."

"My eternal love."

"Sweet cheeks."

"Your majesty."

"Bad boy."

"Sexy."

"Lil one."

"Wild thing."

"My dearest."

"Casanova."

"Sweet stuff."

"Mr. Nice Guy."

"Soulmate."

More: Names with Cute Nicknames (Girls) | Names with Cute Nicknames (Boys)

[frost-writes-stuff]

Adding to this:

My queen

Light of my life

Honeybun

Gorgeous

My beloved

Pumpkin (especially great if they're a redhead)

My lady

Cuteness

Lil kitty/kitten

My dearest

[the-smut-mongerer]

hello there i saw your gods with a lover with wings, i was wondering if u could do it so that they react to them when someone removes them with a iron chain as like a sick joke but it was real and did some real damage and now reader is like very sad and stuff? thank u

just posted something similar~ enjoy!

[the-smut-mongerer]

Hiiiii aha 😖😖 can I get a part two to greek gods with a winged lover where there wings were cut off by a greedy servant because they wanted power and money like that one scene in Maleficent where Stefan betrayed maleficent and they woke up feeling pain all over there back before emotionally breaking down because there wings symbolizing there power and freedom and strength. (You can add more if you want)

(If this was a bit too much you don’t have to do this lmao)

love me, angst!!! reference to previous post and combined with another ask.

tags: angst, body mutilation(?), murder, not beta read <3

for sake of my own tags I will be dubbing this reader maleficent! reader

characters: zeus, hera, ares, aph, hephy, hemres

Disclaimer: this combines the world of the og Greek texts, blood of zeus, epic the musical, hades game, and my personal view of the gods. this can contain improper or ooc information. I have favorites if it's not obvious.

ᴢᴇᴜꜱ

-> rage is all he feels. not only for you but for himself. how did he not derail this action with his presence alone? how could someone still have the audacity toharm his lover? a lover of the all mighty zeus, the god of olympus, God of gods—it was unprecedented. he sees how all the gods stared at him, eyes narrowed and mocking, judging him. for the fact that a messily servant had the gall to hurt the lover of a king!

-> he needed to find them and make a display of his power and will to defend both his pride and his lover(s). the servant was found in a near instant, and anyone else involved. he finds various punishments for each of them and forces everyone—gods and servants alike—watch. by the time he's done, his point is made and no one leaves or even attempts to move until he walks out the clearing.

-> after that he finally focuses his attention on you. his strong arms wrapped around your comfortably, mindful of the wounds. he whispers sweet nothings into your ear and promises that he will find those wings-and if he can't he'll find a way to get or make you a new pair.

ʜᴇʀᴀ

-> her rage rivals zeus, she can just feel the kind of pain your in—not just physical but the pain of something you felt immensely prideful for was gone. she will goes to the ends of the heavens and earths and find the sorry bastard who had the audacity to lay their hands on you and handle them swiftly.

-> she comforts you the best she can. holding you close as your wounds are tended to. rather then you hold her, she now holds you, curling under a blanket together as she kisses your tears away and wanting nothing more then the pain to stop. she makes sure to let you know that you are still loved and valued, no matter what part of you is gone and changed, that will not stop her from loving you.

-> when the person is found, just like zeus, she makes a show of it. however she doesn't let the person die, not right awag at least. she spends her time torturing the bastard herself or have someone do it for her. she won't force you to join but is more willing to entertain the idea of you getting a few hits in.

ᴀʀᴇꜱ

-> of course his rage surpasses all the others, he will not stand for this injustice against you. he feels ashamed of himself as he wasn't able to protect you. he knows how important your wings are, what they meant to you. he doesn't let you fall into a pit of depression, he urges you to stand tall, show the rest of the world and Olympus that even without your wings, your still as powerful as before.

-> after your healed, he doesn't treat you like your made of glass. he treats you like you were before, still continuing your sparing sessions and having you learn new tricks to adjust to your new body. your balance of both psychical self and mental self are worked on vigorously.

-> together, you hunt the bastard down. playing a violent game of cats and mouse as your corner them. striking pure fear into the creature until you deal the final blow. he can feel his godly powers course through you as you strike again, again, and again. until there's nothing but a mutilated corpse and blood covering your body. ares pulls you into a ravishing kiss, feeling nothing but pride that you were able to overcome this set back.

ᴀᴘʜʀᴏᴅɪᴀᴛᴇ

-> shes is both disbelief and pure rage. they defiled you, her dearest lover, they took away one of the most beautiful features of all. she is seething. she often goes on rants, complaining about it but please do not take it as her only caring about your wings—she just knows how much you loved your wings and the pride you took in them.

-> as you heal, she worships your body. kissing along your body as she talks about each part which such love and admiration. she wants you to be empowered by the fact that while your most noticeable feature is gone, it doesn't mean that the rest of you doesn't contribute to your gorgeous body.

-> when the person is found, she doesnt bother sullying her hands with their filth, but if you want to. she encourages it greatly. she'll watch with great pride and amusement as you make do with them, cheering you on as you go. she loves when you fight with such raw passion, it has her heart racing.

ʜᴇᴘʜᴀᴇꜱᴛᴜꜱ

-> being one who is deformed & disabled he feels nothing but distress and sorrow for you. He knows what the consequences will be to your status in Olympus once its been discovered that you are now a cripple. and being a lover of his makes it worse-. while he no longer cares what the others think of him, he will not allow your reputation to be tarnished because of this, he will average your pride.

-> he seeks the aid of his half-sister Artemis, so she may help him find the bastard who had the audacity to defile what was his to protect. he holds you close to his chest as Artemis heals your back. he doesn't speak, doesn't know what to say—so he just let you rest your head against his chest and listen to the soft beating of his heart. hoping to soothe your woes as much as he can.

-> he doesn't make a show of killing the person, does it quick and in succession. but he makes sure to leave a message by displaying their head impaled on one of his signature weapons. a simple yet powerful message. then he will have his attention on you only, comforting you as he builds you a replica or an improved pair depending on what your desires are. he wishes nothing more then to see you soar like you have once before.

ʜᴇʀᴍᴇꜱ

-> this is something hes always had a fear of, not being able to fly. incapable of enjoying the freedoms of flight, going across the globe and traveling to different places without restraint. but his way to fly are from shoes, things that can be remade if broken but yours were a peice of you. he can't even fathom how much pain you are truly in.

-> he does not let this stop you from forgetting what its like to fly. taking you high and above the clouds, tucked tightly against his chest. while it wasn't the same, it was similar. he holds you as you cry, unbothered by the tears and snot staining his tunic, he reassured you that he will not only find this bastard but he will discover a way to have you fly on your own again once more.

-> now, angry hermes. is a terrifying hermes. he is not overly intimidating or anyhting but he can truly scare the shit out of someone. he is silent when he makes the move, cornering the one that had the aducity to harm is beloved and let's just say, the sight after wasn't nay a pretty one.