I write original characters or characters from media x male reader content. It can be sfw or nsfw, please be mindful before reading or interacting with it.
This is a blog intended for men and non-binary people, and the content will be targeted towards that reading demographic; I don't write female reader.
Please check the rules for more information before requesting anything, as to avoid getting your request denied. If I'm not open for requests, it will be explicitly shown in my bio.
There are a few fandoms on my masterlist, but if you like a certain fandom and don't see it there, don't be afraid to ask if I'll write for it.
If you don't like the type of content I create, simply don't read. I won't tolerate hate messages or any of the sort.
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Since I'm recently taking a break from writing requests, I'll making a waiting list post with future works that I'll hopefully get around to doing it next year. If you request anything at the moment (while my requests are closed), it'll get send to the waiting list.
Consider following me to check the status of your request or just giving me support overall. Again, I won't be denying anything sent at the moment, but it will not be written until I've opened my requests again.
hellooo! i haven't requested anything for a WHILE but your latest work of m!reader x vander was so cute so i got a little idea.
LET'S JUST IMAGINE (😭😭) that vander survives, but instead of him, the one who died THAT day was his fiancé/husband. so now, he's not warwick but his husband is.
u see the reunion inside the mines, how would it be if his husband on warwick form recognized him? and how would he react to seeing him like that?
if u liked the request let me know bc i may have a little idea of a continuation for this one where everyone gets a happy ending lol 🫡
𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄. — (Vander X Warwick!Male Reader).
Note: Hi! That's actually such an interesting switch! Ended up very angsty and took a while to finish since end of year has everyone very busy. It was fun to write, thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy it.
Summary: Vander's husband was accidentally a victim during Silco's revenge plot. After many years, he returns to his home—Vander—but with drastic changes.
Warnings: Spoilers, don't read unless you've watched Arcane. Potentially triggering content that briefly mentions a fight and injuries.
Key: (Y/n) — Your name. | (H/c) — Your hair colour. | (E/c) — Your eye colour.
Red obscures (Y/n)’s vision, all objects but a mere shadowy silhouette in a maroon background. The sounds are distorted, muffled as if the creature was submerged inside a liquid even as the putrid air scorches his lungs and burns inside him along with his blood. Faint memories fade in and out of his consciousness like a detuned radio switching between frequencies, the humming of the static and the violent flashes of noise dulled out by the words that cut through it.
Powder’s eyes adjust the settings, keeping the radio tuned at the right frequency and letting the memories be coherent and loud for longer. The red fades, white seeps through, and suddenly he sees the little girl before him, shining like the sun. He opens his mouth, strange even to himself, and lets the sound out of his throat. “Powder.”
A rough, calloused hand presses against his shoulder in a gentle gesture of affection as he watches the children run around chasing each other. Tousled blue hair comes in his direction, Powder’s eyes closed as the girl giggles and holds out another one of her recent contraptions in her tiny hands. Her eyes were open, and the sweet look on them brought a pleasant sensation of joy. The hand squeezes his shoulder. Vander. Vander. The bar. The mines. Vander.
Claws scratch against dirt and filthy pavements, and the creature desperately propels itself forward as the memories fade away. His feet ache, the static gradually returns, and his vision fogs. There's nothing left once he reaches the mines. Nothingness gnaws at his mind, and the smell of soot and ash throws him back into the liquid; the mines brighten up with his movements, but he is blind to the light. (Y/n) stays quiet, no longer searching, just waiting. What he's waiting for, he doesn't know.
Something does come eventually, metallic footsteps and mumbling voices that send a sharp ringing to his head and urge him to attack whatever has come to threaten him. His gut screams at him to move, and he can't hold out any longer; as the sounds grow louder, he gives in to instinct.
Blood rushes to his head, a mechanical click of weapons echoes in the mines, and he feels a surge of vicious adrenaline pumping along with the mixture of chemicals inside him. Dark silhouettes appear, bracing themselves for confrontation and raising their guards; one stands out, a hulking figure—compared to the others—that stands in front with its fists raised.
(Y/n) lunges at it, sharp teeth ready to maul the shadow and tear it into pieces. He knocks them to the ground, claw grazing their left cheek as he slams his hand on the side of their head. The black blur stays still, eyes boring into the creature's mismatched ones.
Greyish blue overwhelms the crimson and the darkness, and as the man’s mouth opens, his voice pierces its way directly into his ears. “(Y/n)... What happened to you?”
It’s unlike Powder’s gentle tuning; his is a harsh decentering force that rips him away from his current reality and thrusts him into the past and the present at the same time. He shudders, mind spinning endlessly with recognition and horror freezing him at where he stands and paralysing his every limb to complete inertia. If he once was submerged in liquid, this liquid has now been turned solid and started to form cracks at its surface.
Five seconds in stillness pass before the creature staggers away, its body swaying side to side as it loses its balance. The pressure in his brain grows stronger as the static melts away and leaves clarity in its wake; the memories surge in a blaring stream, and this time, they stay. (Y/n) blinks twice—vision finally clearing up—and looks at the man in front of him.
“Vander.”
The lights flickered with each step he took and white spots danced in his vision. (Y/n)’s head throbbed, his heart ached, and suddenly it wasn’t just dirt entering his lungs but burning ash as Vander gawked at him—eyes wide, desperate. He stands amid fire; wreckage falls all around him, threatening to crush him and end his life at any moment. His body is much too heavy to move, and a strange fluorescent liquid leaks out of his eyes and ears.
After a long beat of silence, he felt something wet staining his hand, which he now realised had been firmly pressed against the centre of his stomach. He falls. His head hits the floor first, sending a muffled thud from his ear to his eye. The fire crackles around him, cradling him to sleep as the screams vanish bit by bit and the image of Vander dissolves like dust in the wind.
A contrite silence lingers in the mines; his senses return at the same time his memories settle in. No more switching between frequencies, but stuck in the appropriate frequency at which he can remember what was heard and still hear what is being said. Everything breaks completely, and he falls to his knees.
“(Y/n).” Vander calls, worriedly rushing to hold his lover's disfigured face in his hands. There's a rush of tenderness and longing coursing through his veins; he is overwhelmed both by the joy of reunion and by the grief of what was lost.
Darkness shrouds them like a warm cloak, hiding the two men from sight. (Y/n) crawls closer to the other man, his broad figure curling on itself to be as small as possible and claws meekly laying stagnant at the sides of the men he loves. The two hold each other, hearing the sound of their hearts beating. They are alive, and for once in a long time, they are home.
hi! Could you write a Vander x male reader where Vander in his werewolf(?)/Warwick(?) form recognizes the reader, and reader also recognizes him, and is so so happy to meet his old lover again
Sorry any mistakes, English is not my first language!
𝐑𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐍 — (Vander/Warwick X Male Reader).
Note: Thank you for the request! No worries; English is not my first language either, and your request was very comprehensible. It turned out a bit short, but I hope it's to your liking.
Summary: The old memories of what could have been and what was haunt you, but after being called to the mines you once used to work on, you find that maybe your life won't have to be filled with regret and longing.
Key: (Y/n) — Your name. | (H/c) — Your hair colour. | (E/c) — Your eye colour.
Sickly green neon lights reflect on murky brown water, and a stomach-churning stench rises from the walls of the worn-down building; the grey impregnated itself in any surface it touched, like acrid sulfur. (Y/n) crouched in front of The Last Drop, (e/c) eyes squinting to make out any recognisable feature in what once was a haven to him.
He dusted off the dirt that had collected in the upper part of his pants and inhaled sharply, lungs long accustomed to the poisonous fog of his hometown. He pressed forward. The inside was empty—needless to check; he wouldn't find her inside. The paper felt like lead in his pocket, heavy and foreboding—a reminder of his failures and the grief that followed any Zaunite like a wailing shadow.
He hadn't gone to the mines in years, and he hadn't had to work there in such a long time that he wasn't sure what exactly they looked like after everything. The entrance was falling apart, and wood planks, detached and broken, littered the floor, and glass cracked underneath his shoes. He tightened his jaw and looked down, the pitch-black darkness of the cave illuminating with every step.
Thump, thump, thump. The impact of his boots against the floor echoed—the caves amplified each sound closer than it truly was—and the faint noises of water dripping reached his ears along with a low rumbling. She was deeper there, had to be. His fingers rubbed the paper note inside his pocket, hope simmering inside his chest.
Thundering footsteps started to come in his direction; something metallic scratched against the walls. He raised his guard, crouching and aiming his gun at the origin of the sound. The walls illuminated in a quick flash, and a dark shadow moved too fast for him to brace himself for it, the thing colliding into his chest and throwing him to the ground.
Mismatched eyes looked straight into his, and a gaping maw with sharp teeth stopped just short of tearing his face apart. Shivers went down his spine, and his lips quivered, tears welling in his eyes as he raised a trembling hand to the creature's face. A sharp set of footsteps entered the place, the light going up again and illuminating the monster's face further. Greyish dark fur coated a familiar face and warped it into something recognisable but not completely.
“Thought you'd want to see him.” Powder announced, her gun clanking against her belt.
Vi stepped closer, opening her mouth and closing it before finally settling on explaining it. “It's...”
“Vander.” He held the man's face in his hands, tears falling down his eyes, a thunderous storm inside his heart. The man he loved. The man he loves. He holds him tenderly but strongly, as if afraid that when he lets go, it will all dissolve and morph back into his bleak reality.
Vander softens, resting his head against the crook of the other man's neck. A content sigh leaves his nose and ruffles the hair on the (h/c)-haired man's head. “(Y/n).”
“Sheesh, even he recognised him way faster than you did.” The blue-haired woman jabbed at her sister, the corner of her mouth pulled up in a teasing smirk. Her facade breaks as she sees a hand outstretched in her direction.
(Y/n) reassuringly squeezes her hand, a wide smile on his lips as he unburies his head from Vander's fur and turns it towards his daughter. “Thank you.”
“You don't have to thank me. You love him as much as we do,” she laughs bitterly. Her hand, albeit hesitant, holds his tighter.
“I do. I don't know how you found him or what happened, but you brought me back to him. I haven't felt like this in so long.” His voice sounds choked, and he looks back at the pair of blue and yellow eyes, his hands caressing the rough skin. He feels Vander's strong arms curl around him, and the fur tickles his neck and arms, warm and comforting. “I love you,” he whispers in the man's ear, loud enough for only them to hear it.
I will only accept requests for male and non-binary reader, gender-neutral included in these categories. I won't write for female readers, and I won't write about characters who are confirmed lesbians.
The requests can be for romantic and platonic relationships x reader. You can request characters of any gender.
When requesting, be specific towards the character and the type of reader you want. If a request is too vague, I'll just make what I see fit.
If you want me to write about an original character of yours or just a random concept of a character, you just need to specify how the character or scenario you have in mind is.
I will write only for characters that I know enough to write about.
I'm not the original writer of these characters. They will be written as my own interpretation of them, and I will always avoid writing them as ooc, but I won't be able to write them exactly as the creator would.
I will write mental illness and other heavy topics, and don't be afraid to ask for them. If there's anything I'm not too comfortable writing, I will tell you and reject the request.
I will write NSFW and SFW and be properly tagging them. If you're engaging with my NSFW works, it's your own responsibility and choice not mine. If you're underage, don't interact with my NSFW works.
What I don't write in NSFW:
- Minors. (Underage sex.)
- Non-consensual.
- Pregnancy.
- Scatophilia. (Poop, pee and vomit.)
˖˚˳ ˒ ✦ Regarding behaviour.
Don't demand anything of me, whether you have a request or not. Be kind and patient. I don't mind being reminded, but I will write when I have the time, and asking more than once will just make me want to not write it any more.
I curse a lot, and I don't mind when people curse, either. If you're trying to make a sarcastic joke, and you don't have any intimacy with me, please use tone tags or something to indicate; I have a hard time understanding irony and sarcasm.
I appreciate earnest criticism if directed at my works, but not if directed at me. If you spot grammar mistakes or just want to point something out, I don't mind—and might even enjoy it—as long as you're respectful.
