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Summary: Continuing the family bloodline is important to the Danforth family and all members of the council, you included. You’re willing to do anything to see that happen, including enlisting the help of Satan himself.
Author’s Note: He’s so terrible and yet I want him so bad.
Warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI, fem! reader, no description of reader, no use of y/n, AU: Grace and Faith are dead and Ursula and Titus lived, established relationship, weddings, reader has fertility issues, pressure to get pregnant (not from Titus), theistic satanism, ovulation, sex rituals, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, pet names/terms used: love, baby, good girl, not beta read, 2.8k words
It has been six months since Grace MacCaullay and her sister were killed at the hands of Titus Danforth for the High Seat of the Council. Six months since Ursula Danforth was hospitalized after her brother attempted to kill her as well. Six months since Titus, the new leader of the world itself, came home to you and proposed. It's been six months since you said yes.
Titus is nothing short of an enigma with a short fuse. Ursula had learned that the hard way after thinking that she could keep her own brother on a leash like an obedient dog. You have never attempted to do what she did because unlike Ursula you know the type of man Titus is. While she talks down to him you meet him where he's at. While she tries to rein him in you let go of his straps completely. It earns you his respect and his love. It earns you a peek under the veil to see the soft side that so desperately wants to come out of the seams.
Three months after the proposal is your wedding and it's everything you have dreamed of. The only thing that could have brought you down is someone raining on your parade during yours and Titus's big day. And Ursula does exactly that.
"I hope you're prepared for what you signed up for," she says.
She had offered to dance with you, claiming she wanted to bond with her newfound sister-in-law. She holds your hand while the other is placed on your shoulder. The two of you sway around slowly as your eyes drift to your husband who is talking to one of his groomsmen.
"I wouldn't have married him if I didn't," you say with a smile that has 'bite me, bitch' plastered all over it.
You and Ursula don't get along. You never had since you first met her. When the council had accepted your father into their ranks you immediately felt hostility coming from her. She would fake niceties one minute and make snide comments directed at you the next. And when Titus began to show interest in you it only seemed to get worse. You don't understand it but you don't ponder on it either. Her emotions were her problem, not yours. No matter how much she tries to take it all out on you.
"When we first met, I didn't like you," she says.
"And that's changed?" you ask.
"No, I still don't like you. But I'm worried about you," she says.
You scrunch your face, confused by her statement.
"You're not going to be able to give him all he wants. And he'll leave you. And then he'll be my problem again. So I guess I'm more worried about myself now that I think of it," she continues.
"He's the High Seat of the council. What more could he want?" you questioned.
"Children. And your father has a big mouth and let it slip that your doctor thinks you might be in—"
"That's none of your fucking business," you say as you let go of her hand, taking a step back.
"Sorry. Did I strike a nerve? Your dad just mentioned something about an ex-boyfriend and fertility treatments and I just assumed," she trails off.
You scoff and walk away, taking a moment for yourself.
That was three months ago.
And despite your efforts, you still have yet to become pregnant. Your doctor swears you're not barren but you were starting to wonder if she was wrong. Or if you need another opinion.
Titus has briefly mentioned wanting children but he never pushes for it. But it doesn't really matter. You know that there was nothing more important to the Danforth family than keeping the High Seat and the remaining members continuing the family bloodline. Your family is the same way. Obsessed with passing down the family name and their fortunes, just like everyone else on the council. You knew before long the topic was going to come up, if not by Titus then by your own family. The pressure was on.
You have done just about everything you can possibly think of to increase your chances of getting pregnant before nearly giving up. That is until you find the most interesting book tucked away in the Danforth library.
It's a hefty book with a thick, black leather cover on it. When you open it your eyes go wide.
"No fucking way."
The next week is spent preparing. While Titus takes care of council business you study the pages you've found and take the next few days to collect everything you need.
When Friday rolls around and Titus comes home to the Danforth mansion he finds you in your shared bedroom, standing atop sigils in a large salt circle with nothing more on than your red satin robe.
"Hello, love," you greet him.
He chuckles as he looks you up and down.
"Hi, what are you doing, baby?" he asks.
He takes his overcoat off as you step over the circle and walk over to him. He pecks a kiss on your head before you speak.
"Preparing a ritual," you say simply.
His eyes flicker between you and the salt circle on the floor.
"There are no planned rituals for over a month," he says.
"I know. This isn't council business. It's our business," you say.
"Meaning?" he asks.
You pull him towards the edge of the bed, urging him to sit down next to you.
"We both want children. And it's expected of us by both our families so that the High Seat stays in our possession for as long as possible. But…I can't get pregnant," you say.
There's a moment of silence between the two of you before Titus places his hand on your thigh.
"Did your doctor say this?" he asks.
"No, they claim I can get pregnant but I've tried everything it feels like. So I wanted to try this." You reach for the book on the nightstand and hold it out to him before flipping to the pages you found.
He begins to skim the pages, looking over the old text and elaborate charts and drawings.
"This is risky. Even for us," he mumbles as he flips a page.
"Oh, I know."
"We could become Antichrist parents," he jokes.
He closes the book and sets it back down on the nightstand.
"Is that a no?" you question.
Titus unbuttons a bit of his shirt absentmindedly as he looks around, taking note of the candles you have strategically placed throughout the room.
"It's not," he says.
You shift on the bed, drawing your knees up as you lean in closer to him. Your thumb gently rubs at the top of his hand as you speak.
"Would it help convince you if I said I'm ovulating and just smelling your cologne right now has me ready to pounce," you say quietly.
He smirks before leaning in closer to you as well, meeting your lips with his.
"I didn't need convincing. But that definitely would've worked," he says before kissing you again.
Before Titus can push you down in the bed you pull away, breaking the kiss.
"Not here, over there," you say, pointing at the circle.
He takes your hand into his and leads you to the circle. You both step over the salt onto the sigils painted on the floor.
"I know you like being in charge," you kiss at Titus's neck, "but let me lead us this time."
"Yes, ma'am," he chuckles.
You reach towards his shirt, unbuttoning it all the way before slipping it off his shoulders. He lets the fabric slide down before tossing the shirt on the floor past the circle.
Titus watches you as you take your fingers down his chest before they trail down to his belt. Your fingers hook around the leather as you undo it and unzip his pants. That all too familiar smirk is plastered across his face as you begin to push his pants down.
"How long have you been planning this?" he asks.
You hum to yourself as he steps out of his pants and shoes, leaving him in only his boxers.
"About a week," you reply as your eyes drift down to his pelvis. There is a growing imprint of his cock underneath the black fabric.
"I'm impressed you kept this from me for that long," he says.
"I wanted to surprise you."
You hook your fingers around his waistband and pull them down, freeing his cock from the confines of the fabric. It flops a bit at the motion, standing out once the boxers are fully pulled down. You can't help but stare, taking in the finer details of your husband's cock. It's slightly curved with a thick vein running down the length of it. The head is flushed and pink and when Titus flexes his muscles his cock moves with him, reacting to the pull of his body.
"Like what you see?" he asks.
"Always," you say.
You then take his hands and move them to the front of your robe, urging him to untie it. The satin slips off your body easily, revealing your nude figure underneath. On your lower abdomen are a few sigils that you had drawn carefully earlier before he had arrived.
"Well, look at that. You really have this all planned through, don't you?" he says, running his thumb across the markings.
"I do. Now sit in the middle," you instruct him as you bend down, swiping up your robe and tossing it out of the circle.
You step out momentarily and grab a knife you had set aside earlier along with a bottle of lavender oil.
"It's important that once we start, you listen to me, okay?" you ask, stepping into the circle and sitting down in front of him.
"Yeah, of course," he nods.
You set the knife to your side and open up the bottle of lavender oil, pouring a generous amount into your hand. Leaning forward, you begin to apply it to your husband's skin, rubbing it in as you do so.
"Usually it's candles that we put the oil on but we're using our bodies as our altars for this. I've already prepared my own body but I don't think it'll hurt to do the same to you," you explain.
Your fingers massage the oil into his chest and he hums as you move down his abdomen, breathing in the calming scent as you do so.
"Okay, all set," you say.
"What about the knife?" Titus asks.
"We don't use that yet," you say.
You move onto his lap, straddling him as you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. He kisses you gently as he grips at your waist, pulling you into his chest.
"Climaxing is crucial to the process," you say as you reach down between the two of you, finding his cock and lining it up with your entrance.
"Has that ever been a problem before?" Titus asks. He pulls you down, pushing the length of his cock into you.
"Fuck…no, it hasn't. I'm just explaining—"
A moan rips from you as Titus bucks his hips upwards. Your jaw goes slack as he does it again.
"Just wondering," he says, smiling at your reaction.
You begin to rock your hips against his, grinding against him. Every drag of your body works his cock deeper into you.
"That's it, baby. Take what you need," he says.
Titus's hand slides down, grabbing at your ass as you move against him. His other hand slides around your body, feeling the soft flesh of your thigh and moving up your belly before settling at your breast. His thumb and pointer finger pinch at the hardening nipple, rolling it against the digits before he leans his head down and takes it in his mouth.
You moan as his tongue gently swirls around the skin, occasionally sucking it between his lips. One of your hands moves from his neck to his back, dragging your nails against him which results in another bucking of his hips.
"Oh my god," you groan.
Titus pulls off of your nipple with a pop before moving up your chest and to your neck. He begins to leave a trail of kisses, pecking and licking at the skin. When your hips begin to move at a faster pace he bites down near your collarbone, drawing a whine from you.
His free hand moves between the two of you, letting his fingers slide through your folds, feeling where he has you split open before moving back up to your clit.
"So wet already and we've barely gotten started," he states, pulling his fingers out to observe the string of your arousal that connects from one finger to the other. He slides his hand back down and begins to draw little circles with his thumb. "Have you been like this all day?"
"Part of the instructions suggests masturbation—fuck—beforehand," you reply in between moans.
"Is that what you've been up to all day?" he thrusts his hips upwards once more, "Touching your pussy and waiting on me to come home?"
You nod your head, too focused on the pleasure building up in you to respond.
"How many times have you came around your fingers today wishing it was me?" he asks.
You grip his shoulders, using him as leverage. His fingers pick up speed, keeping a steady rhythm as you bounce on his cock.
"Three. Three times," you finally say.
"Hmm, I'm impressed. Let's make it four times," he says,
Titus wraps his arms around you, squeezing you tight and lying back within the circle, taking you with him. He holds you against his chest as he spreads your legs out before bending his knees and thrusting upwards into you.
"Oh, fuck!" you moan as you lay your head against his chest.
You can hear the sound of your cunt squelch around him as he fucks into you, driving his cock into you at a quick pace.
The head of his cock slides against the spongy part inside your walls with every thrust, making you damn near see stars. He groans as he slides in and out of you, feeling your wetness drip down his cock while he buries himself into you.
"Titus, say your…enns," you say breathlessly, drooling against his chest.
"Fuck, baby. You're giving me an impossible task. Can't do that and focus on your pussy at the same time," he groans.
"Please, it's for the ritual. Please, do it for me," you whine as he rolls his hips into yours, making all your nerves fire off at once. "Please. Before I cum."
He presses his hand against your back and the other against the nape of your neck, keeping you pressed against him as he begins to chant. At first, it's quiet as he tries to focus on the words but soon he repeats them between groans.
"Tasa reme laris Satan. Ave Satanas," he repeats himself over and over in your ear.
Something about it sets you off. You feel your arousal pool in your groin and you just snap, letting go as your orgasm hits you like a freight train.
"That's it, baby. That's it. Good fucking girl," he coos in your ear.
He keeps thrusting, chasing his own release as your walls tighten and clench around him. You moan against his chest as tears well up in your eyes. The head of his cock presses against your cervix at this angle and every time he pumps his cock into you it sends a jolt of pleasure through you. You can feel it in your belly, in your spine, through your soaked cunt. And it's nearly too much to handle.
"Titus…" you whine as his grip tightens.
His cock twitches inside of you and a few more thrusts have him falling over the edge.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he groans through gritted teeth as he cums inside you.
He goes to move you but you stop him.
"Stay like this," you say. Your hand reaches for the knife beside the two of you, grabbing it and bringing it between the two of you.
You sigh as you sit up, staying on his cock and keeping his cum plugged inside you.
"Gimme," you mumble, motioning for his hand.
He doesn't hesitate. This was normal for the two of you. You can't count the number of times blood was spilled around you.
You take the knife and slice against his palm, following the line of a scar already on his hand. You then do the same to yourself, opening up the same spot you've cut hundreds of times over your lifetime.
You set the knife aside and press your hands together, letting the blood drip down your wrist and onto Titus's chest.
"I love you," you say, looking down at him.
"I love you too."
You lean down and plant a soft kiss against his lips.
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Pope wants to buy his goth gf the makeup she deserves.
Andrew "Pope" Cody x fat!goth gf! reader
Warnings: None. This is fluff. Although there's a second where Pope is momentarily hypnotised by your ass. I want to be Pope's BTGGF so now I'm writing a million blurbs about this. So welcome to this universe there will be MANY more to come. Andrew is def OOC in some places, but here they've been together almost a year so he is comfortable and trying his best! Let a bitch live!
FYI my readers are written as plus size, but we all deserve to be taken care of by Pope. I have a "how they met" post in the works and an "Andrew convinces you to come swim" WIP but it's taking a bit so enjoy what I got!
Just being around you is his favourite place to be. And watching you get ready? Forget about it. Almost a year into your relationship, Pope has learned that black is a truly versatile colour and the outfits you piece together with your minimal colour palette always has him questioning how he landed someone as beautiful as you. And your makeup? He doesn't care if you're bare-faced or full Siouxsie Sioux, watching how carefully you paint your eyeliner or blend eyeshadow is hypnotising. Everything you do is hypnotising.
What can he say? He's a man obsessed.
Especially after introducing you to his brothers. It went even better than he could have imagined so now he wants to be with you 24/7. After the initial surprise of your alternative appearance, you won Deran and Craig over with how kind and funny you were, how much you obviously loved their brother, and are now affectionately known as Morticia in the Cody household.
They're the brothers you never asked for but can't live without, and you're a breath of fresh air after Smurf's death (Deran may have asked if you could also work some "spooky shit" to make sure her ghost wasn't sticking around, which you happily did).
With your anniversary coming up, Andrew wanted to take you to the mall to buy you anything (and everything) you could want for a gift. You are also hoping to get him something too, but he constantly shoots the idea down saying that you're the only gift he'll ever need. That doesn't mean you're not going to try anyways. You've never had someone love you like Pope does. You both said "I love you" after a month of dating, and it's only become deeper.
It's that love that has Andrew a bit more anxious that usual to get to the mall on time. He doesn't ever want to rush you and knows that while you hate shopping, you want to make him happy and are willing to suffer Oceanside shoppers on a Saturday. But really, he had another surprise for you. There's a new slasher showing at the local indie theatre you liked to drag him to for midnight madness screenings. You missed opening weekend because the record store you manage had a few callouts, so it made it impossible to go.
So, before picking you up for your sleepover last night he bought you guys tickets. He isn't the biggest fan of horror movies, but with the way you like to give him your post-mortem after each film and the passionate way you like to break down every scene, he'd sleep in that dusty theatre if it made you smile. But that meant you only had so much time at the mall - he wanted to make sure he had time to take you to dinner and secure you're favourite seats - back row right in the middle. No one talking behind you so you can enjoy the movie, and a perfect view of all entrances and exits so he can keep an eye out while you get absorbed into the screen.
"Andy, honey," you call from his en suite, "I just need a few minutes to do a quick face and then I'll be ready to go, I promise! Why don't you see if Craig or Deran need anything and we can pick it up on the way back from the mall?" He doesn't respond but you know he heard you when after a short pause you hear his footsteps trail off to the kitchen.
Craig and Deran are having a heated debate at the kitchen island when he enters. Now that you're around they want to throw the "sickest, spookiest, sexiest" Halloween party the Cody compound has ever seen. You suggested a haunted house or trick-or-treating, but they wanted to welcome you into their circle the only way they knew how, even though you and Andrew both are not the party time you didn't want to dampen their spirits and accepted their invitation immediately. Too focused on party planning, they say they don't need anything from you two and Pope makes his way back to see if you're ready to go.
Entering his room he's confused by the sound of a lighter flicking over and over followed by your repeated fuck fuck fuck after each one. Since when did you need a lighter to do makeup? Since when did you smoke? Did Craig give you something? If he did why didn't you tell him, he would rather you smoke next to him then hide away. It's not like you were driving today, you could do whatever you needed to right in front of him. Slowly pushing the bathroom door open, he stops in his tracks.
You're leaning over the bathroom sink half dressed. Your hair is done in your usual style when you want to have a "causal goth" day, and a cropped The Cure shirt is stretched over your chest, falling just above your soft stomach. He's momentarily paralysed by the sight of your perfect plump ass clad in nothing but your leopard print thong before he realises you're frowning down at the pencil eyeliner in your one hand, the offending lighter in the other.
Snapping himself out of his ass-induced daze, he has plans for you and can't let himself keep you locked in his bedroom all day (for now), he softly knocks to get your attention. "What are you doing?"
"Oh! Babe! I'm so sorry. I'm almost done I promise. I didn't want to use liquid liner because we'll be out for a while and I don't want to worry about accidentally rubbing my eyes or whatever if I get tired. But this stupid fucking thing won't work and it's Craig's so I should've figured it was out but it's fine I'll ju-" you're cut off by Andrew crowding your space and placing his hands over yours. He takes one had to hold you chin so he can tilt your face up to meet his eyes. "Breathe honey, breathe."
Huffing out a small laugh you humour him but taking a big inhale together and exhaling until he releases your chin. "I'm sure the lighter is very stupid. But why do you need it?" He's never once seen you use flame as a part of your getting ready steps or how he could've missed it if it was. You giggle and put both things down, settling your hands on his broad shoulders, "it's just something to use on those pencil liners to make them go on smoother and darker! I don't care if that smudges, it's kind of the point! I just didn't want to waste time going over the same spot on my eyes when I know we have to leave. It's a classic goth girl move, babe," you kiss the tip of his nose and he gives your full sides a playful squeeze.
"Got it. Okay new plan. We're going to Sephora first stop so you can get as many sticks of eye pencils that don't require you putting hot liner on your face. I don't want you getting hurt and I know there's a few eyeshadow palettes you don't want to tell me you want but I already found your wish list. Put some pants on and let's go," after giving your ass a few squeezes he gives you a playful smack and turns your back towards the rest of your clothes on his bed.
Huffing as you pull your black skinny jeans on you protest, "Andy. My love. Goths have been doing this since before I was born, probably before you were born too, I am not above the ancient ways!"
"Maybe you're not, but no one has had me before. I'm paying for it. So don't fight me and let's go get you whatever you want, my deadly nightshade."
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Pope’ sees his goth gf getting ready and has concerns.
Andrew "Pope" Cody x fat!goth gf! reader
Warnings: None. This is fluff. Although there's a second where Pope is momentarily hypnotised by your ass. I want to be Pope's BTGGF so now I'm writing a million blurbs about this. So welcome to this universe there will be MANY more to come. Andrew is def OOC in some places, but here they've been together almost a year so he is comfortable and trying his best! Let a bitch live!
FYI my readers are written as plus size, but we all deserve to be taken care of by Pope. I have a "how they met" post in the works and an "Andrew convinces you to come swim" WIP but it's taking a bit so enjoy what I got!
Just being around you is his favourite place to be. And watching you get ready? Forget about it. Almost a year into your relationship, Pope has learned that black is a truly versatile colour and the outfits you piece together with your minimal colour palette always has him questioning how he landed someone as beautiful as you. And your makeup? He doesn't care if you're bare-faced or full Siouxsie Sioux, watching how carefully you paint your eyeliner or blend eyeshadow is hypnotising. Everything you do is hypnotising.
What can he say? He's a man obsessed.
Especially after introducing you to his brothers. It went even better than he could have imagined so now he wants to be with you 24/7. After the initial surprise of your alternative appearance, you won Deran and Craig over with how kind and funny you were, how much you obviously loved their brother, and are now affectionately known as Morticia in the Cody household.
They're the brothers you never asked for but can't live without, and you're a breath of fresh air after Smurf's death (Deran may have asked if you could also work some "spooky shit" to make sure her ghost wasn't sticking around, which you happily did).
With your anniversary coming up, Andrew wanted to take you to the mall to buy you anything (and everything) you could want for a gift. You are also hoping to get him something too, but he constantly shoots the idea down saying that you're the only gift he'll ever need. That doesn't mean you're not going to try anyways. You've never had someone love you like Pope does. You both said "I love you" after a month of dating, and it's only become deeper.
It's that love that has Andrew a bit more anxious that usual to get to the mall on time. He doesn't ever want to rush you and knows that while you hate shopping, you want to make him happy and are willing to suffer Oceanside shoppers on a Saturday. But really, he had another surprise for you. There's a new slasher showing at the local indie theatre you liked to drag him to for midnight madness screenings. You missed opening weekend because the record store you manage had a few callouts, so it made it impossible to go.
So, before picking you up for your sleepover last night he bought you guys tickets. He isn't the biggest fan of horror movies, but with the way you like to give him your post-mortem after each film and the passionate way you like to break down every scene, he'd sleep in that dusty theatre if it made you smile. But that meant you only had so much time at the mall - he wanted to make sure he had time to take you to dinner and secure you're favourite seats - back row right in the middle. No one talking behind you so you can enjoy the movie, and a perfect view of all entrances and exits so he can keep an eye out while you get absorbed into the screen.
"Andy, honey," you call from his en suite, "I just need a few minutes to do a quick face and then I'll be ready to go, I promise! Why don't you see if Craig or Deran need anything and we can pick it up on the way back from the mall?" He doesn't respond but you know he heard you when after a short pause you hear his footsteps trail off to the kitchen.
Craig and Deran are having a heated debate at the kitchen island when he enters. Now that you're around they want to throw the "sickest, spookiest, sexiest" Halloween party the Cody compound has ever seen. You suggested a haunted house or trick-or-treating, but they wanted to welcome you into their circle the only way they knew how, even though you and Andrew both are not the party time you didn't want to dampen their spirits and accepted their invitation immediately. Too focused on party planning, they say they don't need anything from you two and Pope makes his way back to see if you're ready to go.
Entering his room he's confused by the sound of a lighter flicking over and over followed by your repeated fuck fuck fuck after each one. Since when did you need a lighter to do makeup? Since when did you smoke? Did Craig give you something? If he did why didn't you tell him, he would rather you smoke next to him then hide away. It's not like you were driving today, you could do whatever you needed to right in front of him. Slowly pushing the bathroom door open, he stops in his tracks.
You're leaning over the bathroom sink half dressed. Your hair is done in your usual style when you want to have a "causal goth" day, and a cropped The Cure shirt is stretched over your chest, falling just above your soft stomach. He's momentarily paralysed by the sight of your perfect plump ass clad in nothing but your leopard print thong before he realises you're frowning down at the pencil eyeliner in your one hand, the offending lighter in the other.
Snapping himself out of his ass-induced daze, he has plans for you and can't let himself keep you locked in his bedroom all day (for now), he softly knocks to get your attention. "What are you doing?"
"Oh! Babe! I'm so sorry. I'm almost done I promise. I didn't want to use liquid liner because we'll be out for a while and I don't want to worry about accidentally rubbing my eyes or whatever if I get tired. But this stupid fucking thing won't work and it's Craig's so I should've figured it was out but it's fine I'll ju-" you're cut off by Andrew crowding your space and placing his hands over yours. He takes one had to hold you chin so he can tilt your face up to meet his eyes. "Breathe honey, breathe."
Huffing out a small laugh you humour him but taking a big inhale together and exhaling until he releases your chin. "I'm sure the lighter is very stupid. But why do you need it?" He's never once seen you use flame as a part of your getting ready steps or how he could've missed it if it was. You giggle and put both things down, settling your hands on his broad shoulders, "it's just something to use on those pencil liners to make them go on smoother and darker! I don't care if that smudges, it's kind of the point! I just didn't want to waste time going over the same spot on my eyes when I know we have to leave. It's a classic goth girl move, babe," you kiss the tip of his nose and he gives your full sides a playful squeeze.
"Got it. Okay new plan. We're going to Sephora first stop so you can get as many sticks of eye pencils that don't require you putting hot liner on your face. I don't want you getting hurt and I know there's a few eyeshadow palettes you don't want to tell me you want but I already found your wish list. Put some pants on and let's go," after giving your ass a few squeezes he gives you a playful smack and turns your back towards the rest of your clothes on his bed.
Huffing as you pull your black skinny jeans on you protest, "Andy. My love. Goths have been doing this since before I was born, probably before you were born too, I am not above the ancient ways!"
"Maybe you're not, but no one has had me before. I'm paying for it. So don't fight me and let's go get you whatever you want, my deadly nightshade."
I’m not sure if this will be helpful to anyone, but you literally do not have to be a good writer to write and post fan fiction. Yes you will naturally get better at writing and finding your voice the more you do it but you do not have to be or become a professional level writer to enjoy writing and sharing fics. It’s common to hear people praise fic writers by saying their work is better than published books, and while I think this comes from a good place, that’s not the norm or expectation. There is also a sentiment that fic writing is “good practice” for becoming a better writer or doing something else later, but if fic is the only creative writing you ever do that is literally okay. Your technical skill does not mean you cannot have fun and build community with your writing, or that other people cannot love and find meaning in your work.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
