Osteo
Moon
- Joined
- Sep 19, 2023
This thread is focused on fandoms I've been itching and craving to write, so I will be picky about what I do and who I do it with. I'm not looking for OC x Canon unless specifically calling for it. My main thread is here if you would like to go over that. This thread will be updated as Fandom cravings change and shift.
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Greetings all. My name is Osteo and I'm looking for creative and experienced partners to write many stories. From light-hearted adventures filled with romance and soft touching moments. To darker scenes of toxicity and hatred, lust and passion, death and despair. I like broadening my horizons and brainstorming and picking a partner's brain on what may make them tick in a story.
I predominately play dominant males in my stories. They can range from possessive to gentle and loving. It all depends on what we aim to write and what you ask of me, or your preferred flavor. I have also written more switch males but I have to be in the mood for that.
My postings will be anywhere from 300 to 1200 words. I can write more, but that may take longer for me to hash out and focus on. I like to sit down with a plan in mind and post in mind and work on it without distraction. -
➡I will aim to post once a day.
➡I love brainstorming and crafting. None of my ideas are ever concrete and I would love to discuss and change them to have a better story for both of us. If it is all my ideas and none of yours then I won't feel we are working together.
➡I will happily write in threads or private messages.
➡Please ask me any questions, I don't bite! -
Kinks I Enjoy➡Roughness
↪ Spanking, Hair Pulling, Slapping, Choking, Fingers in Mouth, Rough Play➡Worship
↪Cock Worship, Ball Worship, Ass Worship, Body Worship, Emotional Worship➡Oral Play
↪Facefucking, Deepthroating, Sloppy Play, Oral Fixation, Cunnilingus➡Obsession
↪Passion, Jealousy, Tsundere, Needy, Controlling, Stalking➡Bondage
↪Light Bondage, Handcuffs, Rope, Blindfolds, Shibari➡Consent↪Consensual, Non-Con, Dub-Con, Blackmail, Prize Winning
My No's/Limits
➡Underage
➡Scat/Watersports
➡Vore/Wound Fucking
➡Doormats
➡Puke/Vomit
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Disclaimer: I have not played Veilguard
MC x YC
Roles:
Chevalier x Ferelden Knight
Templar x Mage
Mage x Templar
Grey Warden x Nobility
Races:
Qunari x Elf
Qunari x Human
Human x Elf
Elf x Human
Elf x Elf
Human x Human
Your Idea
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After watching the new three episodes of Arcane, I'm itching League again and would love to craft our own story. Down below will be males I'm happy to play, and females I would be happy to play against.
Males:
Yasuo
Ezreal
Sett
Rakan
Zed
Garen
Jarvan IV
Kayn
Swain
Viego
Females:
Ahri
Akali
Gwen
Irelia
Kai'Sa
Katarina
Leblanc
Lux
Miss Fortune
Riven
Shyvana
Soraka
Syndra
"Remember, don't fuck this up. The Lotus and NHPD are already getting rid of everything they can. She is the last piece."
"I was there for the debriefing. I know."
"You are on your own. We can't send in backups or any agents that would get tagged and IDed. This isn't gang-related, like they are trying to sweep it under the rug. I bet you it was Millworth behind this. If you get caught--"
"I never worked for you, and I'm on my own and probably dead. I know already."
It was a big thing that the CEO of Aerotec had been killed. Lucas Smith. He was incredibly wealthy and powerful, and the same went for his enemies. He pissed someone off, and Arthur was tasked with getting to the bottom of this. What a shitshow this was already becoming. An NHPD detective badge sat on the dashboard of the beatdown car that Arthur had been given, his image on the front along with his title and rank. The soft drizzle of rain pattering off the windshield of the powered-down car, darkness enshrouding the man as the soft pink neon sign above illuminated a sickly shadow over the vehicle parked right across from where his target had gone deep in The Underbelly.
Already, he knew as much as he could about Katrina Lavine or her stage name, Ember Noir. Her age, name, career, schooling, and background. Who her mother and father were. Anything they could dig up on her, they got to him, and it was all in a file, disheveled and disorganized, on the passenger seat. Paper in this day and age was more discreet than encrypted messages. How backward things could get the farther forward you pushed technology. Flipping the manilla folder open. A paperclip is holding in place a recent photo of Ember and how she has had a glow-up since starting her career at The Lotus. Looks like they gave her everything material she could have wanted, but now that piper was coming for its due.
The question was if she was a witness or if she was the killer. He still needed to find that out.
Tired eyes looked up from the folder as it folded closed. A heavy fog of smoke hung lowly in the car as a cigarette burned between his lips softly in the quiet patter of the rain. Arthur's reflection stared back at him through the intermediate flashes as the neon sign would chain colors and darken just enough to see himself. How much he has changed over the years but he could still recognize himself. Even with the implanted eyes and sliver of cybernetic tracings from his cheekbone underneath his eyes, curving back around his head into the buzzed and faded sides of his blackened hair. It was still dripping wet, lying flat, and parted to just the right side. A scruffy five-day beard after not having time to shave, giving him a more rugged appeal and that grizzled detective look he was going for.
Popping the door handle, the door hissed open, and he clambered out. Grabbing the manilla folder and his badge in one hand. Tossing the cigarette onto the soaked ground with the other before popping the collar on his tanned trench coat to cover up his neck some for warmth.
Walking towards the alley where Ember had disappeared, he passed by a burn barrel where some unfortunate souls were trying to keep themselves warm in the only dry spot they could find. Dropping the manilla folder into the flames as the files and pictures burned away to be lost forever. Unclasping the side gate, he stepped inside and walked up the stairs to the patio of Ember's apartment. Glancing through the tiniest of slivers he could muster from her blinds, he saw no activity inside or heard anything.
He was dressed in some casual wear of a black fitting sweater and a black tank top underneath to keep something warm and dry from the rain outside The Underbelly. Reaching a hand behind his back and lifting up the sweater some to reveal the hidden handgun tucked in a holster behind his back. His dark uniform pants were slightly damp as his fingers wrapped around the grip, and with his left hand, he curled it into a fist and knocked on the door three times, loudly.
"Ember Noir, Detective Arthur Stone of New Haven Police Department. I have just a couple of questions to ask you about the past couple of days." He calls out loudly for anyone on the other side of the door to hear him. Still, he was ready to draw his weapon if someone else was home or if Ember proved to be a danger to him.
His detective bade was on a silver chain hanging loosely around his neck. Visible on his chest and a valid badge with the NHPD.
"I was there for the debriefing. I know."
"You are on your own. We can't send in backups or any agents that would get tagged and IDed. This isn't gang-related, like they are trying to sweep it under the rug. I bet you it was Millworth behind this. If you get caught--"
"I never worked for you, and I'm on my own and probably dead. I know already."
It was a big thing that the CEO of Aerotec had been killed. Lucas Smith. He was incredibly wealthy and powerful, and the same went for his enemies. He pissed someone off, and Arthur was tasked with getting to the bottom of this. What a shitshow this was already becoming. An NHPD detective badge sat on the dashboard of the beatdown car that Arthur had been given, his image on the front along with his title and rank. The soft drizzle of rain pattering off the windshield of the powered-down car, darkness enshrouding the man as the soft pink neon sign above illuminated a sickly shadow over the vehicle parked right across from where his target had gone deep in The Underbelly.
Already, he knew as much as he could about Katrina Lavine or her stage name, Ember Noir. Her age, name, career, schooling, and background. Who her mother and father were. Anything they could dig up on her, they got to him, and it was all in a file, disheveled and disorganized, on the passenger seat. Paper in this day and age was more discreet than encrypted messages. How backward things could get the farther forward you pushed technology. Flipping the manilla folder open. A paperclip is holding in place a recent photo of Ember and how she has had a glow-up since starting her career at The Lotus. Looks like they gave her everything material she could have wanted, but now that piper was coming for its due.
The question was if she was a witness or if she was the killer. He still needed to find that out.
Tired eyes looked up from the folder as it folded closed. A heavy fog of smoke hung lowly in the car as a cigarette burned between his lips softly in the quiet patter of the rain. Arthur's reflection stared back at him through the intermediate flashes as the neon sign would chain colors and darken just enough to see himself. How much he has changed over the years but he could still recognize himself. Even with the implanted eyes and sliver of cybernetic tracings from his cheekbone underneath his eyes, curving back around his head into the buzzed and faded sides of his blackened hair. It was still dripping wet, lying flat, and parted to just the right side. A scruffy five-day beard after not having time to shave, giving him a more rugged appeal and that grizzled detective look he was going for.
Popping the door handle, the door hissed open, and he clambered out. Grabbing the manilla folder and his badge in one hand. Tossing the cigarette onto the soaked ground with the other before popping the collar on his tanned trench coat to cover up his neck some for warmth.
Walking towards the alley where Ember had disappeared, he passed by a burn barrel where some unfortunate souls were trying to keep themselves warm in the only dry spot they could find. Dropping the manilla folder into the flames as the files and pictures burned away to be lost forever. Unclasping the side gate, he stepped inside and walked up the stairs to the patio of Ember's apartment. Glancing through the tiniest of slivers he could muster from her blinds, he saw no activity inside or heard anything.
He was dressed in some casual wear of a black fitting sweater and a black tank top underneath to keep something warm and dry from the rain outside The Underbelly. Reaching a hand behind his back and lifting up the sweater some to reveal the hidden handgun tucked in a holster behind his back. His dark uniform pants were slightly damp as his fingers wrapped around the grip, and with his left hand, he curled it into a fist and knocked on the door three times, loudly.
"Ember Noir, Detective Arthur Stone of New Haven Police Department. I have just a couple of questions to ask you about the past couple of days." He calls out loudly for anyone on the other side of the door to hear him. Still, he was ready to draw his weapon if someone else was home or if Ember proved to be a danger to him.
His detective bade was on a silver chain hanging loosely around his neck. Visible on his chest and a valid badge with the NHPD.
The duty as a ranger and scout for the Essian Kingdom was a dangerous task, one that many wouldn't come back from or get captured by the evil forces of Yrdran. Still, it was necessary to keep logs of movement when it came to the kingdom's borders and to send out word if any enemy movement threatened the peace of the human kingdom. As humans, they had strength in numbers but lacked the longevity of the other elder races. Magic was already rare in this world and even rarer, appearing in a human form. A craft that takes years to master for those that inherit the strange and wonderful gift, it was one of the many things that were looked down upon by the other races that lived longer lives, but to a human like Calyx, he saw it oppositely. With so much life, it would become easy to get bored with the only pleasure in life being the craft you wish to hone -- with his shorter life, and he could live his life to the fullest before an early death or withering in his old age.
Dressed in hardened dark leather, a half mask of cloth covered the mouth and bridge of his nose while deep green eyes peered through the forest's foliage. His black cloak was raised and hooded currently over his head to leave just the tiny portion of his skin revealed, along with his eyes, while he sat and watched from a distance. He had a finely crafted yew bow in his left hand, but no arrow readied on his right.
He had been tracking a Yrdran raiding party that had seemingly gotten lost between the border of Essian and Valden -- the humans 'allies' if one could trust to call them that. Elves were a particular people who viewed themselves as the pinnacle of perfection. While they seemingly tolerated humans with their peace treaties, there was no sharing of knowledge that could aid one another.
Yrdran was a nation of terrible things. Orcs, hobgoblins, goblins, trolls, and ogres came together to form their own 'kingdom' to resemble that of other races, but still, their dark and twisted nature drove them to raiding and pillaging.
Currently, he tracked a party consisting of a few orcs, two hobgoblins, and a troll. He kept his distance and followed their camp, but he was starting to become worried. Because of their sporadic movement and lack of knowledge of the land they invaded, they were treading dangerously close to the Valden border, where the Bracellian Forest was and where Calyx currently found himself sitting and watching. Already he sent a falcon to the nearest stronghold in hopes that his Essian friends could arrive and take care of this small party of raiders before the Elves caught wind of them and questioned how they got down so far.
He had made a mistake by resting his eyes for what only felt like a few moments, but an hour had passed, and when he woke up, the camp was still there. But a few were missing now by his count as his eyes quickly scanned over what he could make out from the distance he was at and counted again and then a third time. A few of the Orcs were missing.
Standing up quickly and reaching for his quiver behind his back to grab an arrow. That is when the snap of a twig nearby caught his attention, and he was surrounded by some of the Orcs that had snuck off.
"You didn't think we could smell a human like you a mile away watching and followin' us?" It snarled at him, leaving him no choice but to quickly notch the arrow he had and fire it into the shoulder of one of the Orcs while the other two charged him from different angles, and he had to abandon his bow in favor of the sword at his side.
A howl left the Orc that was hit, alerting the camp as it was waiting for the signal, and began to push into the forest as Calyx was left fighting off the Orcs already on top of him and trying to retreat further. After disengaging and killing the two that attacked him, he began to move deeper into the forest, attempting to get distance, but something didn't feel right. It felt warm and wet on his side, and his legs gave out underneath him as two arrows struck him. One was in the back of his leg, and the other was in his side.
He had expected death, and through the pain, it didn't come. His head was pounding, blood rushing, and it sounded like there was a struggle above him before his eyes had closed.
Once they re-opened, he found himself laying in a soft silken bed, a cot in a barracks with other wounded men all groaning in pain. Dressed in only his trousers, his clothes neatly on a bedside table placed and stitched to patch the hole. His boots were beside him, his wounds were dressed, and the antidote for the orc poison had been applied, but the tender, aching pain was still there. His leg felt weak, having been hit in the knee by the arrow. It surely had severed many muscles but missed his bone, thankfully. The architecture of the room he was in told him this was not Essia he was in anymore, but a Valden barracks. Confirmation only given when he viewed a nurse walk by and her pointed ears stuck out from the delicate strands of silken gold hair.
His head pounded, his mouth felt dry, and he needed to get back home. The hospitality of the Elves was not something one should rely on -- a blessing in disguise that they even bothered to pick him up off the forest floor.
Dressed in hardened dark leather, a half mask of cloth covered the mouth and bridge of his nose while deep green eyes peered through the forest's foliage. His black cloak was raised and hooded currently over his head to leave just the tiny portion of his skin revealed, along with his eyes, while he sat and watched from a distance. He had a finely crafted yew bow in his left hand, but no arrow readied on his right.
He had been tracking a Yrdran raiding party that had seemingly gotten lost between the border of Essian and Valden -- the humans 'allies' if one could trust to call them that. Elves were a particular people who viewed themselves as the pinnacle of perfection. While they seemingly tolerated humans with their peace treaties, there was no sharing of knowledge that could aid one another.
Yrdran was a nation of terrible things. Orcs, hobgoblins, goblins, trolls, and ogres came together to form their own 'kingdom' to resemble that of other races, but still, their dark and twisted nature drove them to raiding and pillaging.
Currently, he tracked a party consisting of a few orcs, two hobgoblins, and a troll. He kept his distance and followed their camp, but he was starting to become worried. Because of their sporadic movement and lack of knowledge of the land they invaded, they were treading dangerously close to the Valden border, where the Bracellian Forest was and where Calyx currently found himself sitting and watching. Already he sent a falcon to the nearest stronghold in hopes that his Essian friends could arrive and take care of this small party of raiders before the Elves caught wind of them and questioned how they got down so far.
He had made a mistake by resting his eyes for what only felt like a few moments, but an hour had passed, and when he woke up, the camp was still there. But a few were missing now by his count as his eyes quickly scanned over what he could make out from the distance he was at and counted again and then a third time. A few of the Orcs were missing.
Standing up quickly and reaching for his quiver behind his back to grab an arrow. That is when the snap of a twig nearby caught his attention, and he was surrounded by some of the Orcs that had snuck off.
"You didn't think we could smell a human like you a mile away watching and followin' us?" It snarled at him, leaving him no choice but to quickly notch the arrow he had and fire it into the shoulder of one of the Orcs while the other two charged him from different angles, and he had to abandon his bow in favor of the sword at his side.
A howl left the Orc that was hit, alerting the camp as it was waiting for the signal, and began to push into the forest as Calyx was left fighting off the Orcs already on top of him and trying to retreat further. After disengaging and killing the two that attacked him, he began to move deeper into the forest, attempting to get distance, but something didn't feel right. It felt warm and wet on his side, and his legs gave out underneath him as two arrows struck him. One was in the back of his leg, and the other was in his side.
He had expected death, and through the pain, it didn't come. His head was pounding, blood rushing, and it sounded like there was a struggle above him before his eyes had closed.
Once they re-opened, he found himself laying in a soft silken bed, a cot in a barracks with other wounded men all groaning in pain. Dressed in only his trousers, his clothes neatly on a bedside table placed and stitched to patch the hole. His boots were beside him, his wounds were dressed, and the antidote for the orc poison had been applied, but the tender, aching pain was still there. His leg felt weak, having been hit in the knee by the arrow. It surely had severed many muscles but missed his bone, thankfully. The architecture of the room he was in told him this was not Essia he was in anymore, but a Valden barracks. Confirmation only given when he viewed a nurse walk by and her pointed ears stuck out from the delicate strands of silken gold hair.
His head pounded, his mouth felt dry, and he needed to get back home. The hospitality of the Elves was not something one should rely on -- a blessing in disguise that they even bothered to pick him up off the forest floor.
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