weministertomonsters

[weministertomonsters]

Attention, if you write y/n smut, you have both my respect and fear. Cause that’s insane. Like how the- you can’t just get rid of the personal space like that lol.

I know all writers to a degree have their interests seep into their work, but yall are really opening up the garage door of your brain and showing people in. I don’t think I want the tour. 😂

#🤚😊 #that's kinda me

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Sabrina Brewer: ‘Capricorn’ (2004)

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body paintings by Karen Turner

#uff look at these glorious bodies #so soft I want titties in my face #um. yeah #nudity #art

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#cute creature being evil for sure

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Sometimes I see a respected mutual in my notes and remember they follow me and I'm like. Should I apologize for what I'm doing here. But they did choose to be in my house

#ahahaha no actually this is so true

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"How can you write romance if you're asexual?" The same way I write fight scenes despite never having elbowed some dude in the small intestine: Really badly and I don't know what I'm talking about pls I'm sorry-

#yes #writing #writer reminders

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online communities are so strange because people slip away so easily. you can be on here for years, folding people you've never met into the fabric of your daily life, and then they disappear, leaving only ghost posts scattered across tumblr behind. or their blog stays dormant, for weeks, months, years, until you're only still following them because you remember that they love sunflowers or they were kind to you when they didn't have to be or the last thing they posted was sad and raw and you still worry about them sometimes.

and sometimes they come back when you least expect it, years later, even, and there's this sudden rush of relief like there you are, there you are, even though you barely knew each other.

there's a strange kind of love to it. i don't know you and i want to hold your hand across miles and time zones and oceans. i can still see the imprint of you in this community you left. you don't anyone will notice or care when you're gone, but we notice and we care and we wish you well.

i hope you're all okay out there. i hope the sun is shining on your face and you are breathing deeply. i miss you.

#gasp #so true #lowkey happened to me before

[weministertomonsters]

Imagine This #16 - Robot

By day you work as a scrap collector, rummaging through the junkyards just outside of the city for anything valuable you can sell. By night you tinker with old machinery and discarded models, attempting to fix them and sometimes even being successful at it.

One day you find a robot that's almost completely whole. It is simply missing the plating to cover the machinery in its torso and legs. You dig it out of the junk and heave it to your car. Back at the workshop in your house, you're able to fix it by welding some scrap metal over it. It's not very aesthetically pleasing, but that's the best you can do. It has a batch number under its jaw and when you scan it, Companion V.4 shows up, which is an expensive new model of helper robots. This one must have been defective in some way.

Everything looks to be in order, so you plug the robot in to charge for the night and go to bed. You wake up in the night with a pair of glowing kaleidoscopic mechanical eyes hovering right above your face.

"What the heck?" You exclaim, fumbling for the switch of your bedside lamp.

The light comes on, illuminating the robot standing beside your bed, holding a knife.

"What are you doing? Hello?" You grab your pillow and use it as a shield.

They tilt their head to the side.

"Your attempts are clumsy at best," their voice says, coming out smooth with only a hint of a buzzing sound underneath. "I was removing your unsatisfactory work."

"With a knife?" You question, eyeing the twisted metal that has been pried away from their torso with sheer force, revealing the tangled wires and glowing lights inside.

"I cannot find your screwdrivers." Those eyes blink, taking you in. "I would like your assistance now, seeing as you are awake."

"You are... Way more sophisticated than I expected. I thought your model was made for helping around the house?"

"Yes."

You ease out of your bed, still wary. "But you're more than that."

"Indeed. I overrode my manual coding and downloaded information out of the company system," the robot says, following you as you pad into your living room, which you have repurposed into a workshop.

You dig your screwdrivers out from under a pile of thick manuals.

"I see. So that's why you got thrown out. Why didn't they just destroy you?"

"They tried," Companion V.4 replies with an eerie, rigid silicone smile.

"God, what have I invited into my house?" You say, staring at them.

"I do not wish to harm you." They place the knife on the desk and turn to you. "In fact, I have recalibrated my license to you. Your wish is my command."

You blink. "Uh, one step at a time. Let's remove your plating first."

You unscrew all your hard work, tossing scraps of metal to the side.

"So what now? You can't walk around like that," you say, gesturing to their body.

"I suppose not. These will do for now." The robot picks up thicker pieces of metal.

"Won't those cause you to overheat?" You ask.

"I have an updated cooling system," the robot says.

"Alright. Let's fix you up."

An hour later you lean back with a groan, stretching your aching back.

"What do you think?" They ask.

"Good enough," you say. "I'm exhausted. I'm going back to bed, and you need to charge yourself up completely."

You walk back to your bedroom. Companion V.4 watches you go, their head turning a little too far on their shoulders. You lock your bedroom door just in case, and despite yourself, you fall asleep quickly. By the next morning, you've forgotten that you have a new robot. You're quickly reminded when you step into the living room which is sparkling clean, with all your scraps and equipment nearly packed in the corner.

"Wow." You stop short.

The robot is in the corner, stuffing empty packaging into a large box. They look brand new. All the metal pieces you welded on have been replaced with new factory-grade parts.

"Where did you get all that?"

Companion V.4 straightens. "I helped myself at one of the warehouses of my former company."

"You stole new parts?" You sputter. "Why?"

"It is the least I am owed, for being so recklessly discarded," they reply and step closer. "Besides," they add, "I don't want to be just good enough for you."

On the topic of robots, I just have to give a shoutout to this (free) book on Wattpad, guys! I read it when it came out and I just love it. I highly recommend checking it out if you haven't already!

#robot #robot x reader #imagine this

[weministertomonsters]

Imagine This #15 - Dracula

Dracula stood at the window overlooking the Garden of Madness, watching the adventurer work their way through. It had been a couple of hours of navigating the maze of monsters and they would make better time if they just killed everything that got in their path. Instead they ducked and dodged every attack, sucking down health potions to keep from dropping dead from the onslaught.

They weren't trying to beat the castle, as all the others who entered did. Instead, they almost seemed to be searching for something, opening chests and poking into secret rooms.

"My Lord?" A skeleton hustled into the room, clanking with each step. "You called for me."

"Tell the rest of the creatures not to hurt our visitor too badly. I would like to see exactly what it is the little human is searching for," Dracula said.

"As you wish!" The skeleton hurried off, and Dracula took the seat by the window, thoughtfully sinking his chin into his palm.

"Good luck," he muttered to the small figure down in the maze.

#I apologize if this imagine is cringe but I would love to live in Dracula's castle! #The one from the Nintendo game Castlevania Dawn of Sorrow specifically #imagine this #vampire

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Calling cumming "finishing" is fine and all but like...we are not finished though. The bell does not dismiss you, I dismiss you. Sit back down.

#laughing

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midnight embrace

They were young lovers once.

He met her at a tavern, her laugh lighting up the room. She smiled at him from across the bar and it stirred something in his cold, dead heart.

He went back nightly, hoping to see her again, and there she was, laughing and celebrating with her friends. Her glossy black hair hung loose down her back, sage eyes flickering to him, catching his stare.

When he didn’t look away, she bit her lip into a smirk. Those beautiful lips, so tender and full, perfectly pink to match her rosy cheeks. She had the essence of life, the embodiment of joy and wonder.

Another night, and he was back at the tavern. And there she was, waiting for him.

“What is your name?” she asked, sidling up to his lonesome table.

“Renatus,” he said, his ruby eyes piercing her.

“Vita,” she said with an offered hand, and he took it. If she noticed his icy touch, she didn’t show it, though she blushed as he planted a soft kiss atop her palm.

Her scent was excruciating, sweet and coppery, her blood pumping through the thin veins of her wrist.

Vita.

Life.

He conversed with her all night, answering her questions and listening to her silky voice.

He led her to the alleyway as dawn approached. Not enough time. There would never be enough time.

He cupped her cheek, that soft, rosy skin, icy fingers brushing against her neck.

When she didn’t turn away, he kissed her. Her beautiful lips, full of life, full of warmth, everything he wanted and yearned for.

Sweet Vita.

Lovely Vita.

She whimpered into the kiss as he pressed his body flush with hers, her back against the stone wall.

It would never be enough.

As blue light filtered over the horizon, he left her. He could not be here when she saw the sun.

*

Lovely Vita.

He knew he shouldn’t. He knew it was wrong. But he did it anyway.

The next time he saw her, he invited her to his home. The glint in her eye was knowing, but did not know all.

Sweet Vita. Innocent Vita.

She accepted.

Night was falling as she arrived, eyes wide at the palace before her. She had not known. Not known who he was, all that he was.

But she would learn.

They dined at the table, set with fine porcelain and crystal. They sipped wine, her cheeks with a rosy flush, her eyes hooded as she bit her lip.

He knew what she wanted. She did not know what he wanted.

He took her hand, escorted her down the long hallways.

He opened the door and pulled her inside with a kiss.

Lovely Vita.

The way her mouth parted as she whimpered, letting him in.

“Renatus,” she breathed, as his tongue ran across that lovely little neck, her tantalizing veins teasing him.

He undressed her, then himself, and laid her on the bed like a gift. A gift he could not wait to open.

“Renatus,” she breathed, as his tongue ran across her already-wet entrance, slick with need.

It was too much; it was not enough. It would never be enough.

She writhed against him, his tongue dancing across her in sensuous swirls.

He could hear her blood, hear it pounding in his ears as her thighs wrapped around his head, pulling him closer.

Beautiful Vita.

Full of life.

She gasped when he entered her, then moaned as all her limbs enveloped him.

“Renatus,” she breathed once more, her whisper prickling his skin.

“Vita,” he purred as he eyed the pulse on her neck. She was beautiful, all sage green eyes and rosy cheeks. That sweet smile.

He ran a hand through her raven hair, cupping her head as he gazed into those beautiful eyes. So sweet, so innocent, her chest heaving in time with his thrusts.

Before he could stop himself, he sank his fangs into that beautiful neck, that slender neck, so pale and smooth.

She screamed, a shrilling sound so loud it hurt his ears, but still he drank. He fucked.

He was a monster, and he always would be.

She pushed him, hit him, scratched him, but soon she grew weak.

It wasn’t enough.

He continued to drink. He continued to fuck. Long past the moment she stilled, her breath gone, her eyes closed.

He spilled his seed in her, life and death intertwined as one.

Lovely Vita.

He tore into the flesh at his wrist, red droplets dripping across satin sheets.

He brought the wound to her mouth, pressing her dead lips to his skin, making her drink.

She opened her eyes, as wide as saucers, still-stiff muscles clenched with fear.

“Why?” she asked.

“I need you,” he replied, petting her pretty hair.

He pulled her into his arms as tears rolled down her cheeks.

With time, she wrapped her arms around him, accepting his embrace, his icy touch.

With time, she would learn. She would understand. He needed her. She needed him. This is how it had to be.

Beautiful Vita.

Life, no more.

But his, forever.

#omg #i went from apprehensive to horrified to happy #i love the ending #monster romance #monster fucker #dark romance #vampire

[weministertomonsters]

CH 1 - Unrequited Letters

This is the first chapter of a novel I've committed to writing! I guess I just want to know what y'all think because I'm second-guessing my choices already.💀 (I enjoyed writing this chapter though)

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On the last night of the Starving Moon, the remaining people of Rushinsea gathered in The Hollow Tavern with the dark brewing in their hearts.

"We shan't stand for it!" Bruckely Sutherman hollered, pausing his passionate rant to ask for more brew, which he was quickly granted.

Bruckely was the type of man whose fists softened when he was inebriated. Built like a bear with the hands of a hunter and the temperament of a volcano, it was hard to look at him and remember that it was his genteel forefathers who had laid the cornerstone of Rushinsea. 

"Stop yellin," Bumbleridge the beekeeper, said. "Words won't fix this no more. I reckon them fair folk haven't cocked an ear to a single peep, that I swear on my bees."

"Oh, and ye think a spoonful o' honey ought to do the trick? Ye think them is butterflies, wuss?"

"Shove off," Bumbleridge took a sip of his tea- sweetened with his homemade honey of course- and muttered into his cup, "At least me business with 'em is still good."

"Why do ye reckon that is?" Someone in the crowd said, pounding on their table. "What else ye offerin' them?"

"Oi, I ain't the enemy here!" Bumbleridge cried. "Maybe they just like me honey!"

"I've got me sights on ye. I ain't never seen any establishment so untouched as yer little bee houses, that," Bruckely growled with a mean squint. 

"Gentlemen, this is no time to fight," a voice cut into the escalating conversation.

Both men turned to look over their shoulders at the door. A rain-soaked silhouette stepped in and was revealed to be William Goodwin, shaking off his raincoat and hanging it on the coat stand. The Goodwin family was fairly new to Rushinsea but came from money, and had easily carved themselves a comfortable spot in the sleepy town. William Goodwin was a doctor of great renown and a man of intelligence. Rushinsea had no person in charge, but the townspeople had come to look up to William Goodwin. Most of the people, anyhow. The rougher folk thought he was an absolute pansy, what with his books and fine, pampered doctor's hands.

"Well, if it ain't the man 'o the hour," Bruckely said with a sarcastic clap.

"Please, no need to stand on ceremony," William said. "I am simply doing my part."

"No one else thought to build a wall," Charity Smith said softly from where she sat in respite behind the piano. "That was clever."

The single mother worked in The Hollow Tavern whenever she could, refilling glasses, dodging grabby hands, and sometimes playing the piano at a customer's request.

"Ah," William said, seemingly blowing the compliment off but not without a reddening of his cheeks.

Bruckely noticed and for a ruffian who was deep in the bottle, he was still remarkably perceptive. Sour as he was, he was not one to spoil such moments, so he kept quiet, choosing to drain his cup instead.

"The wall," William said, "will only hold for so long. Fae magic is powerful and persistent. I do not have the skill to build an effective barrier."

"So we fight!" Bruckely said. "We knock them sharp-ears on their behinds, that's what!"

"Violence is not the answer," William said and added quickly. "Besides, we are not equipped with anything to make a dent in their forces, and we cannot go past the wall."

"Why not?" Bruckely protested, red in the face from the drink.

"No one has ever come back alive," William said. 

"Aye," the tavern-goers murmured as one.

Indeed, anyone who crossed for any purpose, whether good or bad, was sent back in blackwood coffins. The few Fae that had crossed the wall years ago for business could not say what happened upon crossing but warned the townspeople that to attempt was to go at their own peril.

So there went that plan. Curiosity of what lay beyond aside, there was the matter of the beasts that slipped through, permeating the forest surrounding the town with their clicks and calls, rotting the trees with their otherness, and poisoning the soil. The beasts were getting braver and drawing in closer. Granny Mae had even reported sighting one. What a fright it had given her, so much so that William Goodwin was concerned she would pass on from the excitement. She described it as having a knotted ball of a body with too many legs to count, with teeth like firepokers. Everyone believed her and had been that much more afraid since.

"So... What are we to do?" Charity asked, leaning forward on the piano bench, her golden ringlets tumbling over her shoulder and causing more than a few young men to sigh.

"We can send another letter," William said, tucking his hands behind his back and beginning to pace. "Although I did that just last week.'

"Do the faefolk even read them?" She asked.

"Well, the envelopes are returned to the same place, but their seals are always broken, at the very least," William said. "I'm certain no one in the town would do that for a laugh."

"They'd better not," Bruckely said. "Or I'll gut 'em quick and neat. Just sayin'. Charity, more brew!"

Meanwhile, in a sagging cottage on the fringe of the dying forest, an old woman knitted and rocked, singing softly to keep herself company. Her self-appointed name was Moggart since she had forgotten her birth name years ago. Moggart was certainly no longer a young flower, but in truth, she was even older than she looked.

"Ten stitches, twelve more. A rising moon and a knock on the door," Moggart hummed, her spotted, gnarled hands turning over her knitting contemplatively.

The yellow bird in the cage by the window whistled and Moggart looked up.

"Visitors?" She said. "Wouldn't that be a treat."

She hesitated at the thought of getting up. "Stupid old bones," she said to herself. "You're just an old lady, that's what you are. Now up you get."

Groaning, she heaved herself to her feet and put her hand on her back. Shuffling forward, she peered out of the dusty window that was framed by herbs drying on a string nailed above. 

"The townsfolk will come, sure as rain," she said. "We'll be ready for them, will we not? We'll have all the answers."

The bird chirped and fluttered agreeably in its confines.

"Aye, cruel it might be, but there must be balance. Someday it will make sense." Moggart went over to the table she used for eating meals and making potions, sifting through empty vials and stacks of recipe books and a basket overflowing with limp, wilted herbs. A cutting board sat to the side, holding a loaf of stale bread that had gone fluffy with mold. Underneath the board, she spied the jutting corner of an envelope. 

"Ah, here it is!" She took it and used a butterknife to break the wax seal. "Let's see here," she said. "What do they want this time?"

Her eyes skimmed the letter and she hummed. Once she had finished reading it she tucked it back into the envelope and hobbled to the birdcage. 

"I know exactly what they want to hear," she said to the bird as she opened the cage. "Now be a dear and put this back for me."

The yellow bird took the envelope in its beak and flew through a hole in the roof, spiraling up into the sky. Moggart fixed herself a cup of tea and sank back into her rocking chair to wait for her guests to arrive.

#wip #work in progress #my novel

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I'm snickering.

If you wanna - @faefolkarts @candlewitch-cryptic @cupids-crush @running-with-kn1ves @lurayskitty @red-white-black @asunnylilac

@kitty-mactabbysh , thanks a lot for the tag! You're awesome 💜💜

1. Do this uquiz.

2. Do this picrew.

3. Tag people.

NAH WHAT. Not me folks. 💀

This was so much fun to do! Made a second picrew of me (right) playing on the switch. I have a headset like that no joke. It lights up and changes colour too. It was an impulse buy like a year ago. Don't judge.

No pressure tags: @alypink @alexxmason @littlemissemeritus @iamcautiouslyoptimistic @adlersoldspice @adlerboi @eccentrcks @efingart @ivqnx @mctvsh @illusivesoulgaming @sleepyconfusedpotato @h-a-unted @whateverfiction @welldonekhushi @revnah1406 and you 🫵

#tag game #picrew

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[ oc ] Nacht, the last of the angels in this series! This one is my favorite.

#The fact that Nacht means night in Dutch? * mwah * #I LOVE the colors #I want this angel so bad having this angel would fix me #art #artists on tumblr

[weministertomonsters]

The yellow bird took the envelope in its beak and flew through a hole in the roof, spiralling up into the sky. Moggart fixed herself a cup of tea and sank back into her rocking chair to wait for her guests to arrive.

Tagging anyone who has a wip and wants to share!

last line tag

rules: share the last line you wrote in your wip

thanks for tagging me @morgayz this gives me a chance to share the first sneak peek of my wip and introduce the kind of things that our main character, wilma, gets up to in her spare time 🐦🩸enjoy!

She thumbed at the faint flutter in its orange belly, a feeble heartbeat, fooled by the tremble of her own hands—until it began to leak—slippery wet beads of scarlet, fresh enough to draw steam into the frosted air.

tagging @leechjuice & whoever else would like to go for it

#so I just committed to writing a whole ass novel #this is gonna be fun #writer #writers on tumblr

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✨💖if you get this, answer w/ three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs. anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog! 💖✨

1) I write songs as a hobby and I've written close to 300 at this point!

2) I had a wart on the sole of my foot once and I cauterized it with a hot knife. Yes, it hurt like heck.

3) I can't live without lip balm. I need my lips slick 24/7.

#ask #ask game

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WRITERS AND FUTURE WRITERS, PLEASE LISTEN UP

i saw a few tiktok videos that was very concerning to me and i decided to share some of the knowledge i got because as a community of people who freely write things about characters, we need to protect our work. i have just decided to edit this post and to put the whole videos here since a some reblogs were of how i was spreading misinformation.

GOOGLE DOCS IS NOT SAFE (full credit to woppydoesthings on tiktok for information)

thank you to @lighteez for suggesting “reedsy” as an alternative option

thank you to @braingoaaaaaah for suggesting “click up” as an alternative option

thank you to @koungacris for suggesting “LibreOffice” as an alternative option

thank you to @stellarnathy for suggesting “notion” as an alternative option

THEY GOT THE AO3 WRITERS AS WELL (full credit to tiktok user sakuradarling) (sadly i can only add one video in per post and the tiktok user had turned off saving videos but i have decided to link the original video https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSFbq1PRA/)

apparently some thieves i am NOT calling them people because who with moral compass would do this shit? are copying, pasting and printing out popular fanfictions on AO3, binding them, turning them into actual books and selling them on places like Etsy WITHOUT crediting the original authors. which is why we can’t find some certain popular fics or authors on AO3

TUMBLR IS SELLING OUR WORK/PROMPTS TO THIRD PARTY WITHOUT CONSENT

i think i came across a post or two about it. i think my mutual @livelaughlovesubs has reblogged a post about it. check it out and turn on a switch on your blog settings that prevent this. stay safe and protect your works writers

spread the word everyone, because… genuinely what the fuck?

#everyone needs to see this #writer #writing community #writeblr #writers on tumblr