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December 20, 2023 at 4:45 AM
caxycreations.bsky.social
Would anyone be interested in story commissions?
Say...

$10 for 1k words
$25 for 3k words
$50 for 6k words
$75 for 9k words

No scat, no self-harm/suicide, no vore, no diaper-play

Beyond that just about anything is fine.

DM if interested
#commissions #commsopen #writingcomms #storycomms #comms
April 13, 2026 at 9:08 PM
antarcticempire.net
Flash horror piece for @ehmaree.bsky.social featuring dragons and a new kind of monster! Thank you for commissioning me 💚 #horror #shortstory #storycomm #writing

antarcticempire.net/storycomms/tricorn.htm
White and green text on a black background. Tricorn Rocks Story Commission Ivan landed on a bare slope, right before the grade sharply steepened. He lifted a wing and gnawed at a lumpy scar on his blue scaly hide. A nervous tic. His Regal Chain, which encircled his head in fine gold links, jingled with the motion. Ascending again, he circled in the air over Tricorn Rocks. At this height, and especially under the uniform grey sky of autumn, the constituting elements of the strange geographical feature could barely be made out. It appeared to be three pale peaks rising along the edges of a crater, also pale, at the top of a mountain. Ivan continued his slow descent, until he landed right in the middle of the crater. Tricorn Rocks was an inexplicable repository of round river stones in a location where they should never appear in nature. No artificial interference had ever been recorded in the histories -- and Ivan would know. He was King. He shook himself, and pawed at the rocks for purchase. They were like large gravel to a dragon. Unwieldy. Tempted to bite his scar again, he snorted. Then, he prostrated himself there in the trough of the gravelly wave. Eyes closed, he spoke. "Great Sky River," he began, in as reverent a tone as his shy thoughts could muster. "You who makes earth out of a pinprick. Let my prayers to you keep me going." He clenched his jaw, tail twitching. "Keep me going. For Almeida."
July 26, 2026 at 12:10 AM
antarcticempire.net
Story comm for @fluidbias.bsky.social! Thank you for the opportunity 💚 antarcticempire.net/storycomms/breatheearth.htm

#TG #TF #TG/TF #deltarune #mantis
Breathe Through the Earth Story Commission I don't know why I hide myself. Why I wrap myself up as if to be shipped to some faraway land. Every Berrytwig Festival, in the middle of the month where the Riverfolk dance to honor the trees, I put on my slacks and the coat with the sharp lapels, and join them. I think it makes me feel like I'm floating over the ground, but all it does is remind me of how alone I am. The humans don't mind, of course. They greet me with practiced smiles: something out of the normalcy of a picture book. "What's up, Rigel?" my friend Cade smirks, his flippant voice granting me the attention of the group for five seconds. "You're looking elegant today!" I blush a little. A light murmur of acknowledgment travels through the others, before they turn back to their conversations. I stand there, pulling on my cuffs. I don't own many clothes. The expectation for men is to be consistent. Stalwart. Familiar, and dependable. Cade's comment strikes me with a unique feeling. An intriguing one. The only difference this month is my brooch: I'm wearing a pink lotus. I glance around at the rest of the dancers. Some are nonhuman in strange configurations and arrangements of dirt or foliage or ceramic, casting the light of their honor throughout the hall. They all seem rooted in something, and I with my disconnected beige suit stand deluding myself that I'm free from that -- I'm my own thing. Away from the ground, wrapped up in my own containment, I should be happy. It feels wrong to admit that I'm not.
July 6, 2026 at 10:42 PM