#where they do a bunch of different tattoos

[snackugaki-jestsjapesjokes]

ヤッホー ！！スナクがきついたよ！°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

でも 日本語が少し分かります

ngl my ass had to whip out my old dictionary because I doubt my reading level is a solid N5 when I don't practice as often as I should. also since japanese is my third language so idk, I'm gonna try ok

so! i do rag on and bully these poor turtles a lot but the kanji on them is very like.... gymbro style "fire", "dragon", "strength" type of tattooing or marking oneself. Which does fit considering Bay splinter taught them ninjutsu from a book he found while sweeping the sewers. To me, they're canonical ninjaboos (affectionate).

but usually it's like a motto or a mantra or an oath that's tattooed if ever but that's neither koko nor soko

_ _ _

starting with Leo's bandana

So yeah, confirmed for 息子, musuko. more or less. looks like 'musu' is missing a few strokes plus a few misplaced ones. anyway. looks like it was written on with a paint pen. i would think splinter wrote it because it just seems kinda weird for Leo to have written it himself. i don't have the linguistic perspective to describe why it seems weird to just have "son" on his mask. "blue son" would be less weird actually, "beloved son" would work. "upstanding son". but just "son" is like... idk man, ig, they replaced it with a bunch of staples in 2016 so moot

I cannnnnot get a clean shot of his shell kanji the only clear part is 子

three zero action figure of Out of the Shadows Leonardo

I got this from the figure but even zoomed in I can't make heads or tails of the first kanji, i feel like this puzzle is for someone whose first language is japanese

visually something about the top kanji makes me think about those "fonts" that arbitrarily assign kanji radicals to the english alphabet to "spell" things. at most it looks like whatever kanji it is it has the 勹 radical other than that? a mystery to me

_ _ _

now for Raph's 憤

which is an example of what I mean by gymbro-style "dragon" or "strength" tattoos in that 憤 is not exactly a word by itself, it's part of a word or I guess concept would be better? either way it's like writing "indig" instead of "indignation"

憤慨 fungai, is "indignation", technically it IS also "anger" in that when you resent someone you're also a little angry at them. Which considering... Raph does a lot of resenting, he resented being benched, he resented not being told about the purple ooze, he resented Leo for disregarding not only his but also Mikey's input.

i guess if you wanted to keep 憤 then 憤激 (fungeki) fury would work?

i think the funniest thing is the font choice for 憤 as it's written on his bandana because it's like a very official for-use-in-textbooks type of font. like the kind of font for government buildings or legal documents.

tried to find in-movie examples alas, three zero coming in clutch with the clearest details for at least the Out of the Shadows designs. but. looks like another chopping problem where there's 憤 and 怒 which together don't really make a word. although 怒 oko from 怒るokoru which is the "angry" you use when you say things like "I'm angry!" again, both kanji are written with the legal document font which: haha heehee

獣 confirmed though i'd go so far as to guess he meant for it be "brute" either way it hurts a little because the connotation is like "unthinking beast compared to thinking human", like the whole sort of "the difference between 'animal' and 'man' is like logic/reason/empathy whatever". especially since this is his 2014 design when he was accusing April of taking pictures of the freaks to show her friends

_ _ _

now for donnie's 明

i think this is another case of just putting in a piece of a word. 明 by itself is like the phenomenon of something being visually bright and the light we see but i'm guessing they were thinking of trying to put adjectives on them for in-jokey sort of design tells. in that case I would have opted for like 説明 setsumei (explanation) which.... explains itself ba dum tss or i guess on a more serious take 明確 meikaku (precise, clear, definite) which is bay Donnie with his habit of expressing the probability of something happening in percentages down to the like 8th decimal place

_ _ _

annnd Mikey's 仲

This one was a little frustrating as the most handwritten looking one. at one point I swore it looked like 5 TH but whether the top mark is a 5 or an S or even a 己 at a stretch. again it seems someone who might have a passing familiarity with how hanzi/kanji works possibly swiped a part because given 仲 I'd have went with 仲間 nakama yes like from One Piece, comrade, the kind you go up to bat for or fight a shark man with a chainsaw for a nose. hell 仲良し nakayoshi the shoujo manga magazine?! good friend/close friend, Mikey can be anyone's nakayoshi and if you're not careful to stay aloof Mikey will instantly consider you nakama.

hoo, yeah, those are my best guesses idk man

Okay nertles, I need Bayverse help on my little investigation and appreciation journey. Today I’m looking into the kanji on the turtle designs, please help me fill in the blanks and correct me!

Leonardo’s shell has a painted 子 for son, and also “ne” sign of the rat in the zodiac (which isn’t just interesting in the Splinter way, but in the way that the ninja turtles were first conceived of in 1983 but published in May of 1984, making the franchise’s “birth year” the year of the Rat). His bandanna tails either say 忍 子 patience and son or just son 息子

Raphael’s scarification on his right arm, bandanna, and shell are all the same, “憤”indignant/hate, but beneath it on his shell is “怒” which means to get angry (like ok, we get it), and his bandanna appears to say “beast” 獣.

Donatello’s bandanna tails have bright 明 on them.

And Michelangelo has this, and I can’t find anyone talking about this at all but it looks like poorly written kanji for naka, go-between/relationship “仲”, which would make so much sense with his being the heart of the group and most socially outgoing.

I’m so sure there’s more, pretty sure Mike and Don both also have shell paint but I can’t find good screens. Will update this as people add if they do.

[r4fe-cam3ron]

Ooo Hii! If it’s okay, totally okay if not (also excuse my rambling)

Can I please request a Tangerine x reader where he’s on the train with lemon for the bullet train mission and he sees a girl and her bf, the bf is being really mean to her and she’s crying, and Tan immediately intervenes, definitely threatening the man after saying something to Y/n like, “Darling is this man bothering you?” Tan offering for her to come sit with him and Lemon instead of with this “prick” (Tan’s words lol), and when she tries to stand up, her bf grabs her wrist to stop her and Oooo boy does this light a fire in Tangerine who 100% at this time takes his gun out and points it at the man until he lets her go. And with Tangerine gently rubbing her back, she breaks up with her bf right then and there. Anyways, Tan walks Y/n over to their seats with a gentle hand on her back, making sure the crying girl is okay and telling her how she deserves better🥺

hi lovely! i am so sorry that this took forever for me to respond to </3 i hope that you enjoy and that it’s what you were wanting! thank you for being patient 💜 w; weird, toxic, boyfriend (boooo!) but not to fret, a handsome man with blue eyes saves the day. there’s a mention of a gun, and some mentions of the movie but no death! (lower case intended!)

tangerine and lemon were on a mission — grab a brief case, keep an eye on the white death’s loser son, then receive a bunch of dough and get on to the next mission.

yet, something kept bothering him — a lad at the end of the train and a woman who seemed as if she had been crying. tangerine couldn’t tell for sure, but her eyes looked sad, wet, and bloodshot.

the man — who had on a terrible tracksuit — had his head lowered, the girl to his side seemed to be flinching at every whispered word being spoken aloud.

he stands, buttoning his jacket. lemon stares up at him. “what are you doin’, mate?”

tangerine clears his throat, brows pinching together as his eyes trail away for only a moment. “i’ll be back,” he pats lemons shoulder before motioning over to the tattooed male by the window. “watch that delinquent.”

“i’m right here.” the russian boy says with a bit of sass. tangerine simply spares him a a glance before walking away and towards the back of the train.

he stops, the boys lowered voice never stopping, though tangerine still couldn't tell what he was saying.

your eyes quickly dart towards the stranger before they quickly drop towards the table again. the man clears his throat — your boyfriends words ceasing, head snapping over, veins protruding from his neck.

tangerine’s face screws up a bit — what a…different looking person. “i couldn’t help but notice that you look stressed, love,” he motions towards you. he waits until your eyes finally look over at him once more, a reassuring smile on his face.

“everything alright?”

your teeth bite into your bottom lip, chin wobbling a bit as you hesitantly nod when you distinctly feel the burning gaze of your boyfriend.

tan’s eyebrows lift, head tilting. “you’ll have to speak up for me to actually believe—”

“she said yes, what more do you want?”

tangerine waits a moment, eyes looking down at the boy. “she didn’t say anything. it’s also rude to cut off others. think before you do it again,” he looks back at you. “come with me.” he motions for you to stand.

you want to leave. very much so, and this is the time to do it. you don’t know the stranger — this handsome angel who showed up out of no where — but you feel as if you could trust him.

reaching for your bag, a hand quickly shoots out and grabs your wrist before you could move to stand, pinning your forearm to the table.

“you’re not leaving.” there’s something that pokes his side, his grip wavering their hold.

“i think you need to let go of her wrist before we cause a bigger problem, right, mate?”

his jaw clenches, eyes clouding with anger. slowly pulling his hand away from you, you stand quickly and slide out of your seat, into the hallway. tan never pulls away from him until your close enough.

slipping the gun back into the back of his pants, his hand presses against your back in a gentle touch, careful not to startle you.

“let’s get you away from this prick, hm?”

you smile a bit and nod, allowing him to lead you towards a different seat. he glances back at the boy, flashing his gun one last time, smirking.

[rosicheeks]

gotta ask the follow up question...

What tattoo do you want to get the most?

Nooooo I want so many though 😤😤

[14dayswithyou]

Give Redacted a kiss for me!!!

Do you have any dark/creepy headcanons for Redacted? I’m very curious ^^

✦゜ANSWERED: I know you asked for [REDACTED] specifically, but everything mentioned below could also apply to Ren as well ^^;

cw: mentions of gore, torture, (one line about) cannibalism, NSFW themes, and just general creepy behaviour

I'm sure most people already know about Ren's red room days, but for the newer folks: he used to livestream himself torturing his victims on the dark web. He would also harvest and sell their organs for extra cash.

His red room phase began after a group of upperclassmen started livestreaming themselves bullying people (Angel included) for attention online. If those teens wanted a taste of online fame that badly, Ren would be all too happy to give it to them — especially after he heard all the degrading things they said about Angel during their stream.

Ren has probably sniffed (licked???) Angel's underwear on multiple occasions lmao

He also keeps a bunch of their discarded cups, mugs, bottles, etc. — and on the days when he's feeling especially lonely — Ren likes to put his lips where Angel's would've been and treat it like it's an indirect kiss.

If Angel is fine with it, Ren would be more than willing to carve his name into their skin. He'd have to use an ample amount of his numbing cream though (typically reserved for when he gives himself tattoos and piercings), since he doesn't want them to be in any pain.

Similarly, he'd also be willing to carve their name into his skin as well — as many times as Angel would want. But he already has multiple tattoos of their name on his skin, so.... gksgsjj

I'm sure everyone already knows this, but Ren has an entire shrine dedicated to Angel. He keeps all his sentimental and stolen items there.

Ren genuinely has no empathy for anyone other than Angel, so if they were to ask him to murder his own mother (or his sister, his best friend, etc.) and bring back their heart, he'd do it with a smile on his face.

Because he has no empathy, Ren would probably enjoy watching snuff films like it's any other B-tier horror film. To him, it's just more research material on how he can get rid of his competition.

I've mentioned this in the past, but Ren has jacked off to the thought of Angel while in the library lol

I made a post back in 2022 that mentioned how Ren would willingly offer up any of his body parts to a cannibal!Angel, and I think the point still stands!!

He likes to put Angel's stolen laundry on his body pillow and rut into/hump it 😟

I once mentioned that Ren would slap a barcode sticker on his sledgehammer to make it look less... questionable whenever he carries it around in broad daylight — but alongside that, I think he'd also carry around some tools and an unopened can of paint to make it seem like he's just doing renovations. In reality, he'd probably force his victims to drink paint or gargle nails teehee

Builder AU except Ren mistook a body for plywood??? Why is he hammering so many nails into them?? Why is he feeding it into a wood chipper???

Builder AU except Ren gives Angel a different meaning to getting nailed and railed???????? Jackhammering???????? Getting screwed sideways????? KGJDSGNK It's 2AM I'm losing da plot now T_T I'll shut up

[vanadee-hailz-aka-best-merc-ever]

//Forgot I should probably post Gore’s info sheet as well… 😅

                •Basic Information•

🔴Name- Vanadee Hailz (pronounced Hallz)

🔴Age- 23

🔴Sexuality- Pansexual

🔴Gender- Female

🔴Species- Human

🔴Nicknames-Vanny, Val, Van, DD

🔴Reason for nicknames- easier to call her by

🔴From a Fandom?- MCU

🔴Zodiac sign- Aries

  •Physical appearance and traits •

🟠Hair color- bangs are dyed as left part is sage green and the rest of her hair is black

🟠Hair type and length- short wavy

🟠Eye color- grey

🟠Skin tone- pale

🟠Face shape- heart

🟠Body type- triangle

🟠Birthmarks- dimples

🟠Scars- one going up to her lips edge that starts from her chin, huge one on her back that looks like lightning, bunch of small ones on her hands, one on her collarbone

🟠Predominant features- dyed bangs and piercings

🟠Height- 5'9 1/3

🟠Dominant hand- Left

🟠Hair Style- alternative/ fluffy

🟠Jewelry/ Accessories- piercings, sometimes nails are done, pepper spray, symbiote tracker

🟠Are they healthy or not?Reason why- kinda, diet consists with a lot of acidic foods and drinks but she does love her red meats.

🟠Allergies- asparagus

🟠Glasses?- contacts, has glasses somewhere but not where she is in the book

🟠What do they wear when they are home alone?- usually a very large shirt that doesn't fit her, and underwear

🟠Tattoos- a quote on her inner thigh saying: "I stopped waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel and lit that bitch up myself"

                   •Mannerisms•

🟡Speech Style- soft mannered when at work, generally more easily aggravated when in stressful environments

🟡Quirks- bounces there leg when sitting down and is bored, puts shoes on without undoing there laces, constantly moving

🟡Positive traits- intuitive, flexible, can do parkour, athletic,

🟡Negative traits- on edge constantly, paranoid, insomnia, alcoholic

🟡Drives/Motivation- protect those who need it and fuck the government patriarchy and the hero system

🟡Sense of Humor- Dark idk

🟡Private or Public?- Private

🟡Leader or Follower?- Leader

🟡Daredevil or cautious?- Cautious usually

🟡Optimistic/ Pessimistic/ realistic?- pessimistic

🟡Speaker or Listener?- listener

🟡Accent- Denmark/American

🟡Voice Claims- n/a

🟡Temperament- when she's doing her normal job she doesn't really react a lot but when she's a rouge it's like she's a different person, she's more angry and frustrated and lashes out which allows her to get an advantage in the battle

🟡Talents- she's really good with all ranges of weapons and can pull risky maneuvers on a motorcycle

🟡Flaws- sleep deprived and drinks alcohol

🟡Loud or quiet?- both

🟡messy or organized?- depends on her stress or paranoia

🟡solo or team player?- solo

🟡introvert or extrovert?- introvert

🟡relaxed or serious?- serious when doing hero work but relaxed when at home

🟡What will always make them cry?- extreme amounts of pain, and her moments....

🟡Do they celebrate there birthday?- no not really anymore

🟡What will make them Smile?- doing things that are associated with her love language ( usually directed towards ppl she likes or cares about) or anything related to cats

                   •Background•

🟢Hometown- Denver

🟢Social Class- Middle

🟢Education- Poor when she's was going to school but when she started working with O.P.A.C her knowledge increased exponentially

🟢First memory- ice cream with her father

🟢Worst memory- O.P.A.C getting sabotaged by the evil S.H.E.I.L.D she had in her universe

🟢Best memory-

🟢Most important childhood event,why?-

🟢Most influenced by- O.P.A.C

🟢Role models-

🟢Where does the character live? And with who if they live with someone- Lives in Queens,New York with her Cats.

🟢Do they want to move and where?- Once she's retired from O.P.A.C,has finally gotten away from Carnage, and financially stable enough she would in a calmer part of the USA, like Montana or Minnesota, or she would move somewhere out of the states w/o telling anyone.

🟢Type of childhood- questionable..

🟢Upbringing- In the public school system with extreme religious family members, began forming her opinions about politics and stuff during her first school years and Middle School and started rebelling from standard life from there. she also began to despise her father for not helping her and her mom when they needed help the most bc they were really poor while he was rich (they were also divorced bc the mom had an affair with someone who looked exactly like David but from a different universe- main reason Vanadee has abilities)

🟢Best Qualification- Being able to get a good kill and get away with it, and then get good money from it and still keep her morals of being a rouge.

🟢Most important person in their life and why?- the person that fueled her beliefs

🟢House environment- c a t s, and sometimes disorganized

🟢Childhood crush- Ariel, Maleficent, Eric, Prince Charming, Megamind (idk man-), betty boop

                         •Family•

🔵Mother- Jenny Hailz; died from disease

🔵Father- David Hailz; died from being killed by Vanadee- the beginning of her rogue/ vigilante life

🔵Siblings- Luke Hailz; still alive but no contact with Vanadee because he was favored child of David with a different women named Millie Abbot- who Vanadee also kills and is Gore's first official kill publicly.

🔵Relationship with family?- no contact

🔵Any children? Do they want any?- no

🔵Pets- cats

🔵Extended Family- no

🔵Close to family?- no

    •Favorites and Least Favorites•

🟣Favorite Movie- Probably a horror movie

🟣Least Favorite Movie-Twilight series

🟣Favorite Book- Song of Achilles

🟣Least Favorite Book- The Lottery

🟣Favorite Holiday- n/a

🟣Least Favorite Holiday- Catholic/ over celebrated holidays

🟣Favorite Mythological creature- Siren

🟣Least Favorite Mythological creature- tooth Fairies

               •Abilities and Bias'•

⚪️Affiliation- anti hero or rouge

⚪️Powers- bone manipulation, acid manipulation

⚪️Powers limitations- Has to either scavenge for bones from dead animals/ people or use her own ( which isn't comfortable and sometimes hurts depending on which bone, also very sensitive to touch) and has to eat acidic food to use acid abilities

⚪️Weaknesses- being near a symbiote, more weak if it's a symbiote from her universe

⚪️Allies- Orbit, Scarlet, Z spider, Ghost

⚪️How well known are they?- Really well in there universe and the one she's in now a little bit less

⚪️Costume-

(used as a tail)

(Not her own ribs- wrapped around outfit )

(Just the enlarged legs of a spider)

⚪️Do they have a voice changer?- yeah

⚪️Alias- Gore the rouge

⚪️Weapons- guns and knives of herself, she can use a lot of different type of weapons

⚪️ Gadgets/ tech- a small walk-in talkie looking device that tells her where crime is, a device to detect symbiotes nearby, and a badge to show to other O.P.A.C. members

⚪️Physical Weaknesses- Constant migraines from being near symbiotes and being an alcoholic

⚪️Fears- succumbing to Carnage's games, being fired from O.P.A.C.,

⚪️Motivations- getting bigger within O.P.A.C.'s ranks and to over come her weaknesses.

⚪️Why do they do what they do?- To get money and to spite the Hero/Villain system within the universe.

⚪️Mental/Emotional weaknesses- constantly paranoid she's being watched by anyone ( and Carnage) and the feeling of not being worth it in any situation.

⚪️Rivals- Carnage and any symbiote

⚪️Romantic interest? Who if yes- sometimes she finds people on dating apps but it usually doesn't work/ end well/ bc carnage kills them.

⚪️Do they have a known quote?- "I am Gore. The silent killer and agent of O.P.A.C."

                  •Miscellaneous•

⚫️If I could put them in a different universe or Fandom, which one?- probably other marvel universes bc that's what happens in her book

⚫️What was there first kiss like? Have they have it yet?- Compassionate and heavy

⚫️Have they ever lost somebody they loved and who was it? How did it impact them?- When her mom died from not being able to afford medication for her illness, she felt even more hatred for her father who is a rich government official- a major reason she hates how the government is and societal rules

⚫️What would happen if they were granted 3 wishes?- Be immune to symbiotes, make Carnage not exist, make her rich

⚫️There stranded on in island with________ and they have 4 items,who and what do they bring?- The siege perilous because then she could get off the island easily

⚫️what quote do they feel portrays them?- "If you don't terrify people a little bit then what's the point?"

⚫️Most prizes possession and why is it prized?- Alcohol, bc it brings her a relief from life; an escapism

⚫️Have they ever stolen anything? Were they caught? Do they feel guilty or prideful?- Yes,yes, don't feel guilty anymore- they see it as work now

⚫️What textures do they absolutely hate to feel?- chalk and pencil led

⚫️How long can they go without showering? When do they feel dirty?- a full week because being a rouge is very time consuming and they don't have time too do it, they may feel dirty but stress causes her to keep on trudging through her days ( 1 week is the max tho)

⚫️Where do they put there clothes when there dirty?- in the hamper and darks, whites, and towels have there own hamper

⚫️Do they sleep with the bedroom door open or closed and why?- closed and locked, paranoia keeps them up if they don't lock it

⚫️If they woke up with animalistic features such as ears and a tail( that were different from the ones they already had if they had any at all)how would they react?- probably take the day off from all her duties and her human job so she doesn't have to deal with the conversations about it.

⚫️if they could only eat one thing for 20 days, what would they eat?- a salad. There basic.

⚫️do they re read books they already have?- if they wanna revisit the series she might.

⚫️if they had the option to know when they would die, exact date, would they want to know or would they want to stay oblivious to it?- she wouldn't wanna know bc she would be paranoid.

⚫️What song would they listen to on repeat?- any phonk song in general

⚫️Do they believe in a form of a afterlife?- yeah probably

⚫️Do they crack there joints?- all the time

⚫️Spicy, Savory, Sweet, Bitter, or Sour?- savory and spicy- anything acidic tho

⚫️Do they adopt stray animals?- no they don't have time too, they do take them to animal shelters every chance they get.

⚫️Do they procrastinate or do they get it done asap?- get it done asap.

⚫️What is the temperature when they shower?- cold as fuck

⚫️Do they daydream?- at home yes not during work tho.

⚫️ do they work best in messy or clean environment?- depends. If she's upgrading gadgets for her rouge life then it needs to be cleaner, but she works at a butcher shop so that's messy

⚫️ do they keep personal photos? Why?- yeah but there in storage.

⚫️Do they indulge in anything?- Alcohol and sometimes tv series

⚫️ would they do the exact opposite that  someone says to them just to spite them?- depends on the person...

⚫️ if they're alone and they hear a noise would they go check it out or would they hide? Why?- She would probably get in rouge attire and beat the shit out of the person

⚫️ if they're lost what is the first thing they do?- check for cell service and or use compass

⚫️ what is a dream they had that was terrifying and made no sense too them?- Furries on a biscuit

⚫️ what is the stupidest thing they have ever done because someone said not to do it?- Drink poison to avoid Carnage

⚫️ are they stoic or melodramatic about being injured?- Stoic but when shes near Carnage he can tell

————————————————————

Brief run down of an important moment for the character, can be anything-

She works for a organization in her universe that functions like shield, but the shield in her universe is corrupt

(works with the government)so they go by a different name: "O.P.A.C."

Organization of Protection and Chaos

They have the Siege Perilous in there possession which allows them travel dimensions, they connected it through a machine that allowed them to have access to the other universes for as long as the machine ran. They then sent members to as many universes as they could that was suitable and basically made groups of the organization in many parts of the multiverse to make sure they were successful and able to protect civilians and people with powers.

Gore's part in O.P.A.C. is that of a hit man, she kills people that gets in the way and she also functions as a protector of there siege perilous if O.P.A.C in their universe ever fails. Gore gets paid for her job at O.P.A.C.

————————————————————

Short run down of there storyline-

This OC was made for the purpose of a self insert for a friends story which changes often but this is the main gist of the storyline- or actually a draft of the prologue of the story

⬇️

Gore's Pov

The sound of claws scraping on pavement became quicker and closer, my boots slamming on the ground as I made my aching body go faster and swifter with each turn and leap. My light headache soon became a migraine in seconds, and nausea was trying to throw me to the ground with my growing fear and annoyance- along with stubborn frustration. I forced my body forward, taking sharp turns and leaping from the roofs of building to building, trying to gain some distance from the red psychopathic symbiote enveloped host named Cletus Kassidy. Every single turn and leap I made, every single time, he lunged forward to try and get his clawed hands or his symbiotic tendrils on me, he would let out animalistic screeches and snarls of delight. Sadly, Carnage enjoyed the thrill of the chase, that's what I had learned all those months back when we had our first encounter. That monster knew my weakness, which where symbiotes and their hosts just like him, and he tried to take advantage of it with every movement either of us took in this cat and mouse chase of ours.

He tried to make another lunge for me, but I changed my pace and took a quick dive off the building I was on, mentally cursing at the fact I have the siege perilous on my person since I was protecting it. this growing space allowed me some strength to use my bone like structures to make more turns and parkour maneuvers to try and confuse my pursuer, even if it didn't last long because Carnage constantly was trying to close the distance. But he was able to find me within what felt like seconds of precious time for me.

"YOU CAN'T KEEP RUNNING FROM US GORE! ~ YOU KNOW WE WILL AND ALWAYS WILL FIND YOU!!" Carnage hollered from what felt like mere inches from me but was around 6 feet behind my every move. I could hear him clawing his way up buildings, as well as using his tendrils to get up and over buildings and the vast number of surfaces on New York building tops. Often glass shattering could be heard as well as the heavy thuds of his footsteps- most likely damaging the surfaces beneath him. I just grumble curses under my canine skull that I used as a mask with my distorted voice. The mutant's voice was always playful, it made me feel mocked and threatened. I don't like being mocked or threatened by anyone, let alone a symbiote.

I continue the repetitive cycle of climbing up a new building, keeping myself quick and agile enough even in my      migraine afflicted state to dodge any potential attacks from my pursuer. I occasionally miss my footing, getting me hit or almost snatched by a red tendril from Carnage, usually leading to him squealing in glee like a high school cheerleader getting asked out for prom. But his tendrils never snatch me quick enough or grip me tight enough, it didn't even slow me down, it just pushes my determination to move quicker from him.

And as if tunnel vision takes hold of me in my state of peril, I realize I was climbing up the biggest skyscraper of New York; the One World Trade Center. I felt my heart drop into the pit of my stomach, panic, and rage bubbling within me. It only got worse when I could hear Carnage scraping the windows with his claws. like nails on a chalkboard, as if digging in deeper to get to me even quicker and lunge forward even farther. Like he was enjoying the hunt.

It was like I was at a stalemate mentally; I had no possible way of nose diving off the One World Trade Center and surviving, my abilities were too weak and even with them I wouldn't survive the fall. I'd die and be flattened like a fucking pancake!

'How will I escape this psycho freak?!' I thought with a snarl of pain and frustration while dodging a tendril that broke a window right next to my canine skull mask, I could feel the satisfaction emanating from him because he could sense my panic as if his symbiote had a 20th sense associated towards me, while I could sense symbiotes through migraines or headaches along with extreme emotions from them. And we had been going at this chase for ages when I noticed the sun was setting! The sky was in a huge range of colors as the sun began to set on New York's silhouette, as if the world was pleased and happy to know my downfall was eminent.

Eventually I managed to scramble up to the top of the One World Trades Center rooftop, heaving for breath from the migraine and the sheer effort I put into doing that whole stunt of scaling it in under an hour. But my moment to breathe was not something I was lucky enough to be granted apparently, because I had bolted to the other side of the rooftop of the One World Trade Center as Carnage made it to the top merely a couple heartbeats after me. Carnage lets out a low growl, tendrils whipping behind the 7'2 mass of a mostly red and black veined symbiote- slender yet fit in an uncanny way the symbiotes gave their hosts in such a form.

I just scoot even farther to the edge till I feel like if I take one step back, I will plummet to my death, which got me a crooked grin and distorted giggle from the freak.

"Dear- "Carnage began to coo in a voice that was a mixture of Cletus and the symbiote itself, taking a slow step closer to my body that was standing on the defensive as I glare daggers at him from behind the canine skull mask. I cut them off before they could continue their attempts to lure me closer, "DON'T call me that. It's GORE to you and your goddamn symbiote!" I snarl in the distorted voice I spoke in behind my canine skull mask. I had installed technology to distort my voice since it was different enough someone might recognize me while I'm not being the vigilante/mercenary Gore, as well as some other added bonuses- like head straps that would activate if my bone manipulation was at a point I couldn't keep the mask melded to my face. But even with this additional protection to keep the skull affixed to my face, I kept my distance as much as I could that I might have a chance to lessen the horrid migraine I got near symbiotes within a 6-foot radius or get my abilities back, so I had some sort of chance of getting out without getting either snatched up by Carnage or bitten- and hopefully fucking not unmasked!

My harsh response only got a gleeful laugh from both the symbiote and Cletus the host in their Carnage form, it made me cringe under my canine skull mask. The completely white eyes of the symbiote narrow, the sun setting barely affects its vision as it solely was on me; its prey of almost 4 months now that it's never gotten to kill or taint in some way. The sun almost made the white eyes glisten like white opals, but that THING doesn't deserve such complements or kindness, especially when it was a psycho murderer and alien stalking bitch! Its eyes looked me over as if they were memorizing my every curve as it stood there silently with a sharp toothed grin, it made me self-aware of my outfit in a way that enraged me. It was only a goddamn black crop top, a cheap and worn-out purple hoodie that was now a dull purplish grey color after so many years of wearing it and putting it through a washer, and dark green cargo pants- and my usual accessories. Not like I was wearing something to gawk at!

My migraine only got worse as the seconds passed, as if my body was pleading for me to somehow figure out a fucking way out of this mess. The sun was still slowly setting behind us, the setting rays of light giving my body some warmth in this spine-chilling moment of being in my stalkers grasp. And that feeling of this being not a win for me... but for Carnage.

When I got no answer besides him licking his pearly whites that looked sharp as shit, and a low purr from definitely checking me out, I say a very stern and annoyed "What. Do. You. Want. From. ME. Carnage?" Carnage smirks and his eyes widened, he could probably hear how badly that migraine was hurting me currently and probably can see even as I stood my ground my limbs were slowly starting to tremble. I always had an unspoken rule that I'd never address Carnage as his name, or by his human name Cletus, because he never calls me my vigilante alias name, Gore. So, he was probably a bit smug when I finally said his villain alias name.

"Ohh Dove I thought you never say it! ~" He says in a mock giddy fashion, which was one of the most stupid responses he has given me, and Carnage has told me a lot of dumb responses over these 4 months. I scoff and cross my arms in defiance and roll my eyes, they almost glow from behind my canine skull mask and are imitated by the technology to look like two rings of light blue that it's close to white, it gives me an intimidation factor- besides the fact I could literally melt someone alive or snap their neck with just a thought.. with the exception of symbiotes, of course.   

He looked like he was ACTUALLY going to explain why he had been going after me for months, so I begrudgingly stayed silent to listen.

"Well..." He started dramatically, clasping his clawed hands together with a glint of mischief. "The reason WE'VE been chasing you for the past," he emphasized the 'we' part since I never really like to acknowledge the symbiote of Cletus even if they were sort of one body with two minds that were very bonded, I always addressed them in a singular sense.

He pretended to count his claws, even some tendrils for a second before continuing, "Pursuing you on this fine evening for 2 hours, 30 minutes, and 26 seconds... is because WE are veryyy interested in your abilities, you feisty lil thing~ we feel can help you reach your full potential by making you stronger and figure out why you tremble under all symbiotic presences... we find it very flattering you're already trembling, and we haven't even hit the 10-minute mark of this standstill!" Carnage purrs with a teasing grin, which makes me groan in annoyance and roll my eyes.

"How the fuck does my abilities even resemble your symbiote, you Crimson Fucker?! I don't have red tentacles flying out my ass! Nor do I have a full-on body suit of a symbiote!"

I growl in protest from behind the canine skull mask, my breath slowly getting more labored from the horrid migraine. Carnage cackles like I'm the best comedian he has ever seen or heard in New York, "You're such a funny little thing, Dove! ~" even the symbiote seems to laugh in this burst of what seemed to be laughter.

"But still! Think about it! You have VERY similar claws to us, so sharp and made to tear the flesh of our enemies apart like its air! The spider-like bone legs, albeit close to that Iron Spider fool's design, represent my tendrils but in a more solid and less slimy sense. AND your able to match us symbiotes in a battle in your strength even when weakened by a pesky migraine." Carnage ranted, his hands moving as he spoke flamboyantly like he was a commercial seller trying to get me to buy his shitty product, but before I could even react, he shot those knock off webs at me. I snarled in a yelp of pissed off annoyance and shock over something I really shouldn't be shocked by, and as I try to at least dodge the tendrils... It was too late, my migraine afflicted state wasted precious seconds of my time staggering to not fall of the One World Trade Center, getting me caught by my villainous stalker.

'By the gods I'm so weak, I won't last 5 minutes even staying conscious FUCKING HELL-'I think to myself.

I was internally screaming as the webs managed to get a grip onto my torso- the webs form into tendrils in a matter of seconds, and it wrapped around my arms and chest in a binding so tight no human even with super powered abilities could escape. Then with this makeshift webbing and tendril in Carnage's symbiote hand, he tightly grips it as I thrash to escape, yanking it like hair to his massive body. I whipped across the top of the One World Trade Center like a ragdoll and slammed into the symbiotic covered chest of Cletus, who was grinning smugly as it all just went like he and his symbiote had planned.

I was in the arms of my fucking stalker. Great. The webbing and tendrils come off me and retreat into the large Carnage form, my restraints now traded out with the arms of my captor. He holds me tightly to him with a smile on its slimy symbiotic face, purring and holding me like a child would hold a new toy. I squirmed violently, "LET GO OF ME, YOU FUCKING PSYCHOTIC SON OF A BITCH- "I snarl as I glare at Carnage with rage from behind the canine skull mask that hid my identity.

"What the FUCK are you doing?! I thought we had a fucking silent agreement we were done fighting and chasing me around. And stop gripping me like it's the only thing keeping you SANE." I mumble, which gains a cocky grin from Carnage as he looks down at me from his 7'2 height, even though I only stood at around 5'9. "Oh, but you are the last thing keeping me sane, Mavis." Carnage chuckles darkly, I could feel the symbiote quivering in excitement. Mavis was a name that translated to songbird, which was basically another way of Carnage calling me Dove- which I absolutely despised him calling me.

It didn't take long before I stopped my futile struggle. my body was drained of its energy, like I got stepped on an elephant, it happened so quickly just by me getting pulled in such a tight embrace by a symbiote and its host. I thought I was going to pass out from how horrid the migraine was now; it was so bad I could feel my heart pounding in my head. I could feel my body slump to my dismay, it was no use to struggle- it would only make me pass out quicker which I didn't want. I glare at Carnage with my icy blue gaze, feeling weak like a newborn baby, which I hated so fucking much with a burning passion.

The symbiotes grip never waver, maybe even tightened slightly. 

And it began to slowly sway when it realized my strength was diminished to me just staying awake. I slammed my eyes shut and moved my face away as my canine skull mask's panic feature enacted; straps shifted and wrapped around the back of my head firmly. I tried to come up with a way to stop the extreme pain of the migraine that consumed my head and made my body shake, as well as think of a way to get out of this fucker's grasp.

"As we were saying..." Carnage purred violently, causing me to feel the vibrations all the way down my spine in my own personal shiver. They continued to sway as if we were slowly dancing in the dark, which was partially true since it was only slivers of light of the sun from the sunset. "Your abilities intrigue us! Oh, how they do... sometimes, just occasionally as I think about you every time were not near, I wish I could make you overcome this weakness of yours. So, when we have another one of these delightful run-ins on each other's day, which is TOTALLY not planned by the way," I knew that was bullshit and that it was 99.99% of the time planned. But he continues,

"We could have a better cat and mouse chase which is also rewarding, because when I catch you. I could PIN. YOU. DOWN! And while you struggle in vain, writhing under me which is so hot..." Carnage drawls,

"I could examine each bone structure of yours, ranging from your mask... your talons... those spider-like bone legs... that human spine tail... oh I bet it would be wonders to run my hands and claws against them... thinking about it makes so overwhelmed with joy! But if I, did it..."

Carnage trails off as he began to lightly caress and stroke the ribcage that was over my chest and a little bit of my stomach, tracing shapes and outlining the entirety of ALL 24 OF MY RIBS. I shuddered and held back a couple foolish noises, the bone ligaments that were connected to me through my bone manipulation were quite sensitive to touch.

So, I bit my lip. Carnage continues to speak while swaying slowly, my body dead weight in his firm grasp due to how incapacitating my migraine was for me currently. "It's honestly fascinating, the rib cage you use from one of your victims even if you have your own set... very fashionable my dear but we think it look even hotter if they were splattered in your enemy's blood."

I scoff at the comment from behind my canine skull mask, and even that my voice distorter could pick up and distort for me thankfully.  "Uhm, Hell no! Last I checked you are no fashion designer, and you have absolutely ZERO taste whatsoever.

And if you didn't know this already, asshole, blood is a nuisance to get off bones- it stains them, and I got to bleach those fuckers so their crisp white even from one little drop of blood on them. My alias as a vigilante is 'Gore' but I know where to draw the line in my line of work when it comes to bloodshed. I am NO villain, nor a goddamn hero, I'm the grey-zone! Vigilante, antihero, mercenary, whatever you wanna call it but I am not a fucking hero or villain! I only kill when I get paid, pursued, the heat of a fight, or when it's horrid scum that don't deserve to live anymore! So, NO, hell NO."

Carnage just laughs and shakes his head, holding me closer to him, one hand tracing lazy hearts against the ribcage on my upper body. "Oh, but yes! ~" Carnage coos playfully as he uses a tendril to lift the chin of my canine skull mask up to look at him directly.

I just glare at him with my icy blue eyes through the eyes of my canine skull I used as a mask, even though the eye space in the skull were covered by a black mechanical mesh that was see through from only my end and had an eye tracking system so the round white ovals could move with my eyes or narrow in a glare when I glared. I let out a low growl while Carnage smiled at me like the maniac he was, with such heavy intent that it made me shudder just barely, he knew I couldn't do much in his grasp and he clearly loved it.

"Oh Gore... Oh, my dear Gore..." I knew when he started to purr out my actual vigilante alias that I was in deep trouble, more than I already was. "Yes yes... You are that grey zone, morally ambiguous so you can do wrong things in the name of justice. Your title as the little mercenary that people can't rely on, or 'Gore the Vigilante' doesn't mean anything to me because.. Well... "

He pauses dramatically for suspense before continuing, "We are the same, you and me, no matter how much you deny it- the push and pull between us- the thrill of the chase... you know deep down that at the end of the day, you're going to have to choose like the rest of us have had to do at some point in our lives: be a villain or choose the hero lifestyle." I growl lowly at the mere prospect; I hated that thought of having to be fit into stereotypical boxes society deemed people to be in. but Carnage chuckles and keeps talking, clearly amuses by my reaction. "I know how both sides, the heroes and the villains, despise you for what you do- dread you even.

They don't like the fact you go against the grain, you're a black sheep among many blood-soaked woolly coats. But my beloved...~ I hear words from the other villains, including us, how they acknowledge your power and skills- your stubborn hotheadedness I've grown to know, and love isn't something heroes like. We know you're going to have to make a choice on what life you want to live. And from firsthand experience I know for sure that you were made to be a villain! Your ruthless, animalistic, quick and agile..." he pauses as Carnage leans down slightly, his hot breath against the side of my masked face sending chills down my spine as he coos mockingly.

"But that poor little migraine of yours is going to get in the way, isn't it? Dove? The one that's making you shake like a leaf right now, the thing that is in the way of your full potential. But I can help you, we can get rid of that pesky migraine- you just got to open up to me and trust me... and when you inevitably will, oh darling- OH my love! We can be the most feared in New York, the entire planet- hell even the entire UNIVERSE! The stupid Avengers wouldn't even be able to stop us, or SHIELD, or OPAC! Isn't that just so thrilling to think about? because we were meant to be. Gore and Carnage. See, even our names are similar! We'd make such a GOOD DUO my queen..."

Carnage rants in his double voice of Cletus and the symbiote he was the host to, the more he got into his words the more his grip lessened on me. Even his tendrils stopped touching me and his stupid swaying ended finally...

I saw my chance to escape, and I was going to use it.

I quickly elbowed Carnage into the chest, the sensation of touching the symbiote on Cletus's chest was like a painful ripple through my body due to the contact. I then shift myself to kick him in the shins before Carnage could catch his breath from me elbowing him hard in the chest, he stumbles back and with a rattling thump he falls on the rooftop of the One World Trade Center- his arms retracting from me from the sudden attack from me. I bolted to the other side of the rooftop, the last rays of sunlight over the cityscape casting an orange and red glow of warmth over me as I nosedive off the building. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I gasped for breath. There was only one thing on my mind: get the hell away from Carnage.

The only noise that filled my ears was the wind from me free falling off that tall skyscraper,

as well as the sound of Carnage screaming in anger and dismay, "NO!!!" I could also hear the sound of him scrambling to leap off the building as well. But, luckily for me, I had distance from him. I could almost hear him repeating like a mantra under his breath, "I won't let you die, your mine, I won't let you get out of my grasp-" Carnage pushes himself farther, trying to use the skyscraper to get to me quicker as well as use his tendrils to try and snag me but he kept missing, which makes Carnage snarl and screech in frustration.

But I fell faster and faster, even if I was smaller than the hunk of that 7'2 symbiote and host I had an advantage from how I curled my body up to make myself fall quicker. I was still in a slight adrenaline and dazed state from being so close to Carnage, I couldn't produce any of my bone ligaments, even keeping my canine skull mask melded to my face was a hassle. It was like my life was passing through my eyes, I was going to die, or I was going to be caught by my psycho symbiote. I could hear Carnage snarling even more as if he could see how I was preparing to just... fall to my death, let fate take its course, and how even in my last moments I wouldn't give in to him.

But then I felt a pulsating, a sort of buzzing from withing my pocket, and before I knew it,

I was sucked into a portal just before a red, black veined clawed hand could grab me. I was in shock, the whirring colors going around me, the sound of Carnage fading into the air behind me as I continued to fall in a swirling tunnel of colors and noises of so many things yet so little for my mind to process. I was still in a sort of daze but somehow Carnage managed to also fall through the same exact portal as me, that persistent piece of shit! He somehow landed a tendril around my ankle just barely, but I thrashed and snarled under my mask, the gravity of this wormhole like portal was throwing me off kilter. It worked somehow, and that sick fuck got thrown out of the spiral of colors into an offshoot right next to it, I could hear his screams of frustration- the only sense of victory I could get out of this whole damn day: his distress and my freedom to live another day.

But, suddenly the portal opened, and soon disappeared in the sky above me like it was nothing but dust in the wind. I looked around from where I was as I fell that I probably got some whiplash. it looked like New York- but... not really New York city how I knew it. The Avengers tower wasn't a sleek silver color with the A symbol being torn off and broken, it was blue and still seemed to be functioning.

And.. a Oscorp tower, what the hell is that!?-

Even the cars looked uncanny to me, it was unnerving and confusing, especially with my heart pounding in my head from a mixture of adrenaline and a massive migraine that was slowly fading since I wasn't near Carnage anymore which was like an instant relief to my exhausted body.

"Where the hell-"I muttered from behind my canine skull mask, the voice distortion technology faltering slightly before my eyes widen as I felt my body slam against something hard with a loud thunk of what sounded like some sort of metal bar. And all faded into a peaceful and migraine free darkness...

Here is a long ass character sheet

Give credit if you use it!

{OC template}

[By- ThanaTheCreator_]

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•Basic Information•

🔴Name-

🔴Age-

🔴Sexuality-

🔴Gender-

🔴Species-

🔴Nicknames-

🔴Reason for nicknames-

🔴From a Fandom?-

🔴Zodiac sign-

•Physical appearance and traits •

🟠Hair color-

🟠Hair type and length-

🟠Eye color-

🟠Skin tone-

🟠Face shape-

🟠Body type-

🟠Birthmarks-

🟠Scars-

🟠Predominant features-

🟠Height-

🟠Dominant hand-

🟠Hair Style-

🟠Jewelry/ Accessories-

🟠Are they healthy or not? Reason why-

🟠Allergies-

🟠Glasses?-

🟠What do they wear when they are home alone?-

🟠Tattoos-

•Mannerisms•

🟡Speech Style-

🟡Quirks-

🟡Positive traits-

🟡Negative traits-

🟡Drives/Motivation-

🟡Sense of Humor-

🟡Private or Public?-

🟡Leader or Follower?-

🟡Daredevil or cautious?-

🟡Optimistic/ Pessimistic/ realistic?-

🟡Speaker or Listener?-

🟡Accent-

🟡Voice Claims-

🟡Theme Song(s)-

🟡Temperament-

🟡Talents-

🟡Flaws-

🟡Loud or quiet?-

🟡messy or organized?-

🟡solo or team player?-

🟡introvert or extrovert?-

🟡relaxed or serious?-

🟡What will always make them cry?-

🟡Do they celebrate there birthday?-

🟡What will make them Smile?-

•Background•

🟢Hometown-

🟢Social Class-

🟢Education-

🟢First memory-

🟢Worst memory-

🟢Best memory-

🟢Most important childhood event,why?-

🟢Most influenced by-

🟢Role models-

🟢Where does the character live? And with who if they live with someone-

🟢Do they want to move and where?-

🟢Type of childhood-

🟢Upbringing-

🟢Best Qualification-

🟢Most important person in there life and why?-

🟢House environment-

🟢Childhood crush-

•Family•

🔵Mother-

🔵Father-

🔵Siblings-

🔵Relationship with family?-

🔵Any children? Do they want any?-

🔵Pets-

🔵Extended Family-

🔵Close to family?-

🔵Are they related to anyone in their ancestry that was cool/ important?-

•Favorites and Least Favorites•

🟣Favorite Movie-

🟣Least Favorite Movie-

🟣Favorite Book-

🟣Least Favorite Book-

🟣Favorite Holiday-

🟣Least Favorite Holiday-

🟣Favorite Mythological creature-

🟣Least Favorite Mythological creature-

•Abilities and Bias’•

⚪️Affiliation-

⚪️Powers-

⚪️Powers limitations-

⚪️Weaknesses-

⚪️Allies-

⚪️How well known are they?-

⚪️Costume-

⚪️Do they have a voice changer?-

⚪️Alias-

⚪️Weapons-

⚪️ Gadgets/ tech-

⚪️Physical Weaknesses-

⚪️Fears-

⚪️Motivations-

⚪️Why do they do what they do?-

⚪️Mental/Emotional weaknesses-

⚪️Rivals-

⚪️Romantic interest? Who if yes-

⚪️Do they have a known quote?-

•Miscellaneous•

⚫️If I could put them in a different universe or Fandom, which one?-

⚫️What was there first kiss like? Have they have it yet?-

⚫️Have they ever lost somebody they loved and who was it? How did it impact them?-

⚫️What would happen if they were granted 3 wishes?-

⚫️There stranded on in island with________ and they have 4 items,who and what do they bring?-

⚫️what quote do they feel portrays them?-

⚫️Most prizes possession and why is it prized?-

⚫️Have they ever stolen anything? We’re they caught? Do they feel guilty or prideful?-

⚫️What textures do they absolutely hate to feel?-

⚫️How long can they go without showering? When do they feel dirty?-

⚫️Where do they put there clothes when there dirty?-

⚫️Do they sleep with the bedroom door open or closed and why?-

⚫️If they woke up with animalistic features such as ears and a tail( that were different from the ones they already had if they had any at all)how would they react?-

⚫️if they could only eat one thing for 20 days, what would they eat?-

⚫️do they re read books they already have?-

⚫️if they had the option to know when they would die, exact date, would they want to know or would they want to stay oblivious to it?-

⚫️What song would they listen to on repeat?-

⚫️Do they believe in a form of a afterlife?-

⚫️Do they crack there joints?-

⚫️Spicy, Savory, Sweet, Bitter, or Sour?-

⚫️Do they adopt stray animals?-

⚫️Do they procrastinate or do they get it done asap?-

⚫️What is the temperature when they shower?

⚫️Do they daydream?-

⚫️ do they work best in messy or clean environment?-

⚫️ do they keep personal photos? Why?-

⚫️Do they indulge in anything?-

⚫️ would they do the exact opposite that someone says to them just to spite them?-

⚫️ if they’re alone and they hear a noise would they go check it out or would they hide? Why?-

⚫️ if they’re lost what is the first thing they do?-

⚫️ what is a dream they had that was terrifying and made no sense too them?

⚫️ what is the stupidest thing they have ever done because someone said not to do it?-

⚫️ are they stoic or melodramatic about being injured?-

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Brief run down of an important moment for the character, can be anything-

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Short run down of there storyline-

[steddielations]

nsfw, actor eddie, hair and makeup artist steve, sub top

The downside of Eddie having a bunch of tattoos is that he has to sit in the makeup trailer longer than anyone else getting them covered, along with his character’s makeup. 

The plus side is he gets more time with Steve. 

They have this game. It started on Eddie’s first day. He was all wired up with nerves because it’s his first time in a lead role on a big production like this.

Every nightmare scenario of how he could screw up was running through his mind. He couldn’t sit still enough for Steve to give him the wavy hair and facial scars that his character has. 

Eddie kept apologizing and Steve was great about it. He asked Eddie about the heart on his arm with “Wayne” across the ribbon and distracted Eddie from over-practicing his lines, busy telling Steve all about his uncle who raised him and where they’re from. 

Eddie killed it on set that day, and pretty much every day since then. He loves acting, he loves fully immersing himself in the story he’s telling. This role is the biggest of his career so far, but it’s not even about that, he loves the character he’s playing, he meshes well with the director and has chemistry with his co-stars.

But Steve is his favorite part of this whole deal.

Eddie ran out of tattoos for their little game of telling Steve the story behind a different one every day. They never ran out of things to talk about though.

But Steve takes his job seriously and he’s good at it. He explained once why he likes doing this. It’s an art, getting the right look for the right character, or the right person, connecting with and taking care of whoever’s in his chair.

He explained it all while he was running his fingers through Eddie’s hair in those perfectly practiced strokes. Steve’s very good at his job, that’s why it feels so nice when he touches Eddie, even if it’s just work, because Steve cares about this. That’s why it’s easy for Eddie to be lulled into bliss when Steve’s fingers are so gentle on his scalp.

And, okay Eddie’s not made of stone, and he has eyes so he has a thing for Steve. A crush, but there’s a line there. This is work. They’re co-workers, despite how many pretty smiles and lingering looks are exchanged. Eddie won’t cross that line.

Until he does. 

It’s an accident. He never would have done it on purpose. 

Steve’s fingers are just so talented. Eddie’s eyes are closed, he was having another fit of nerves earlier so Steve took extra time with his hair. It put Eddie in a space so relaxed that he feels like he’s floating when Steve’s hand twists in his hair with the perfect amount of tension. It feels so intentional. The moan just slips out.

Eddie apologizes like crazy afterward, he feels terrible. Steve is a picture of professionalism, he’s charming and fun but he runs the makeup trailer like it's the navy and he takes his shit seriously and Eddie crossed a line. 

But Steve just shushes him, guides him to sit back in the chair and says it’s alright. 

Eddie blinks in disbelief but Steve just looks at him. 

It’s a look. 

A look that Eddie can’t stop thinking about for the rest of production.

It’s a look he sees again on his last day on set.

Eddie already shook everyone’s hands and said his goodbyes. He's just stopping by his trailer one last time to make sure the assistants got all his stuff cleared out. 

When he opens the door, his stomach flips, finding Steve waiting inside for him.

“You wrapped filming today,” Steve says in place of a greeting. But his smile and the way his arm is languidly stretched over the back of the couch is inviting. 

Something tells Eddie to lock the door before he goes over to sit next to Steve.

His gaze is even more intense up close. Eddie feels Steve’s eyes on him everywhere, like he’s just eating Eddie up. 

“Yeah, I did,” Eddie says, a tad nervous.

He doesn't want to make a move he can’t take back in case he’s wrong about why Steve’s in his trailer looking at him like that. He doesn’t want to be one of those douchebag movie stars that assumes everyone wants him and he has a free pass to hit on the crew. He’s sure Steve’s had enough of that bullshit.

“We don’t work together anymore,” Steve simply states.

“I know, it sucks,” Eddie laughs a bit sad because he really is, “Sorry if it’s weird to say, but I’m gonna miss you.”

Steve’s eyes shift between Eddie’s and then down to his lips, making his heart stutter in his chest.

“No it’s a good thing,” Steve says and Eddie’s brows knit in confusion. “It means I can do this finally.”

Eddie thinks he’s watching his daydreams play out the way Steve starts leaning in. 

It’s only real when Steve’s lips press softly to his.

Just once, so light, long enough for Eddie to catch on that it’s happening, then Steve pulls back before Eddie can reciprocate.

Steve chuckles faintly at the dramatic frown Eddie’s pulling. 

Then Steve’s hand cups Eddie’s cheek, his thumb stroking Eddie’s face as he tells him, “We can stop there and keep it professional and say our goodbyes. Or I can climb on your lap and give you something to remember me by.”

Eddie gulps. Steve’s offer and his silky voice and his perfect touch that Eddie’s already so addicted to is such a heady mix, making it hard to form words. “Yes, climb me— I mean, option B.”

“Yeah, honey, you want that?” God, Eddie always blushed hot when Steve called him that casually in the makeup trailer, now he’s melting hearing Steve say it like this. “Well, go on and take your pants off for me.”

It happens in a syrupy warm blur. Eddie sheds his jeans and underwear like he’s told and he’s rewarded with a gorgeously naked Steve Harrington in his lap. He’s allowed to touch, only after Steve has threaded his fingers through Eddie’s hair more reverently than any time before, like something precious in his hands, and kisses Eddie deep and hard. 

Then Eddie gets to nuzzle the chest hair that’s been driving him crazy peeking out of Steve’s shirt every time he leaned over. Eddie gets to touch Steve’s soft strong thighs, feeling the smatter of hair leading up to his ass that’s been driving Eddie even more insane trying not to stare at. Then he slips his fingers in and moans into Steve’s mouth when he feels the hard bulb of a plug nestled inside Steve.

Steve pulls back from the kiss, smiling and smearing his thumb over the spit on Eddie’s lips. “Yeah, I’m so ready for you, Eddie, baby, you have no idea.”

Eddie’s practically drooling watching Steve take out the plug and get a bottle of lube from between the cushions and a condom, oiling up his hand. When his fist wraps around Eddie’s cock, Eddie helplessly bucks into it, but Steve’s solid thighs pin him down. That makes his mind lust-foggy and his eyes flutter up at Steve, who bites his lip watching Eddie as he lines up to his hole.

“Mm... you know how bad I wanted you?” Steve sounds relieved as he sinks down on Eddie’s cock. “You know how bad I wanted to climb on your lap when you were sitting in my chair. You know how starry-eyed you get when you’re drifting? Just from me touching your hair, so fucking cute.”

Eddie’s just a mess of moans, Steve is so hot and tight around him. It’s too much with all the sweet praise to really comprehend that Steve knew all those times he was getting spacy.

“It’s so easy to put you down.” Steve’s breath comes harder, not letting Eddie move as he starts to roll his hips. “Such an actor, high strung all the time but that’s okay. It’s your passion. That’s sexy. Been dying to hold you down and ride you until you can’t think about anything but me, though.”

Eddie gasps out a groan when Steve tugs sharply on his hair, being right about everything that Eddie’s into so far. It’s no secret that Eddie’s intense, just a different kind of intensity in the bedroom than with his craft. 

Steve seems to get it, seems to know that Eddie needs everything hard and relentless with the way he’s bouncing on Eddie’s dick. He can feel the strength in Steve’s hips, dying to feel them fucking into him too, mouth watering at the sight of his thick cock jumping with all the movement.

“You’d let me tie you down and use you, hm?” Steve asks, drawing Eddie by the hair into a biting kiss that just barely grazes the surface of what Eddie would let Steve do to him. “I know. I’d fuck you up so good if we had time, baby.”

“Steve, holy shit,” Eddie practically sobs, fingers digging into Steve’s ass.

“You close, honey?” 

“Fuck, yeah.” 

Steve suddenly cups his face, just a tad rough and Eddie thought— hoped for one hot moment— that Steve was going to slap him. Just the thought is enough to make him do what he's supposed to, “Can I?” 

“Mh-hm just keep looking at me,” Steve strokes Eddie’s face as he circles his hips and takes Eddie deep. “Wanna see those pretty eyes when you come inside me.”

Eddie does as he’s told, his gaze falling half-shut as he lets go, spilling into the condom like he’s pumping Steve full.

It’s the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him, followed by the second hottest thing when Steve kisses his slack mouth as his warm heavy spurts of come land on Eddie’s belly.

While Eddie’s coming down, he lets Steve shift him onto the couch. He gets some tissues and then pulls Eddie to lie on his chest because of course he would, he’s Steve.

“Was that enough to remember me by when you get all big and famous?” Steve asks after a while, trailing his knuckles down Eddie’s bare arm.

Eddie looks up, seeing the first glimpse of hesitance in all of Steve’s practiced smoothness.

So Eddie leans in and assures him between pecks on his lips that slowly turn to smiles pressing together. “Nope, think we gotta do it again. And again. And again.” 

[1mlei]

Dead on Main Soulmate AU [Part 2]

In this AU everyone is born with a tiny red heart tattooed on the inside of their wrist. If you're close to your soulmate the heart will beat, and when you meet them the heart turns to gold. If your soulmate dies, the heart will fade to black.

First part | Next part | Masterpost

CW: Brief mention of suicidal thoughts, take care everyone!

----------

Danny is 15 years old when he's informed that he is the crown prince of the Infinite Realms. He would have loved it if someone had had the decency to explain that the title of Ghost King would be passed down through right of conquest sometime before he fought Pariah Dark. If not that, couldn't someone at least have said something a bit sooner?

Now Danny had been faced with the information that he was ghost royalty out of nowhere, and that's just not something he was prepared to deal with on a random Tuesday afternoon.

As Danny paces the length of his bedroom he chooses to ignore Tucker's pointed reminder of "It's a Wednesday."

Instead of responding, he shoots a tiny ecto-blast at where his friend is lounging in the beanbag, which is easily dodged. Not that it would have hit, whenever Danny was aiming at one of his human friends me made sure to channel his dad and aim almost a full foot away from them, just to be safe.

He may be annoyed with Tucker's lack of sympathy about his situation, but he would never purposefully hurt him. Still, a warning shot when Tucker got extra cheeky wouldn't hurt anyone.

The other boy let out an affronted squawk as he dodged the blast, but wisely stayed silent after that.

Danny continued his pacing for another moment, but before he could start his frustrated rambling again Sam spoke up from Danny's bed, she hadn't even looked up from her phone for the whole time Danny had been ranting.

"It's not that big of a deal Danny, the council have been dealing with things just fine up until now, I'm sure they'll handle things until you're ready."

It was true, he knew that the council would continue to run the realms, and allow Danny to ease into the role.

The thing was, he was hoping that "ready" would mean he was at least of legal age. But no, ghosts saw time and age differently of course, they were satisfied as long as he was at least sixteen. Which he would turn in a few months.

In a desperate attempt to postpone the coronation (because Danny was not ready to become king of an infinite dimension yet, holy shit, he had convinced the council that it would be in their best interest to wait until the summer after Danny turned sixteen.

Danny still had to go to school after all, and the thought of having one measly weekend to be crowned before having to return to the halls of Casper High was not one that excited him.

The council had agreed to wait until summer. Danny wasn't overly happy that he'd still only have two months to adjust, but he'd take what he could get at this point.

He was not looking forward to starting his junior year, to say the least.

As if his looming coronation wasn't enough, now that Danny was aware of his title as crown prince, he suddenly had a bunch of new responsibilities. Supposedly, it was to prepare him for being king. Danny found it tedious at best, but he hadn't found a way to get out of it so far.

Luckily, as long as no ghost caused too much trouble Danny didn't have much to worry about.

----------

A ghost was causing too much trouble, enough that Danny got called in to deal with it.

At first he'd been salty that he had to ditch Sam and Tucker last minute for some stupid job that surely someone else could do. But once he heard what the job was, he was for once glad that he was dealing with it himself.

The situation was delicate, and Danny wouldn't trust a lot of ghost to handle it carefully enough.

An annoying ghost whose name Danny hadn't bothered to fully remember (Wi.. Fin.. Vin..ca.. something or other, not important) had decided to head to the human realm to take revenge for their death.

Now, if Danny tried to stop every ghost that ever tried to avenge their own death he'd never get to rest. A ghost's death was such a personal matter too, Danny didn't feel like he had any right to step in and say what's right or wrong for them to do.

So, in nearly all cases he stayed out of it. A lot of ghosts were happy to avenge their deaths in non-violent ways. Some time spent haunting their murderer, scaring them shitless, and most ghosts were satisfied. Not enough to move on, revenge was rarely enough for that, but enough to exist peacefully in the Realms.

That was all fine in Danny's book, but this particular ghost (Danny mentally dubbed them "Vi" when he failed to remember their full name) had decided that violence was the only answer.

The thing was, they blamed the wrong people. Vi had been a citizen of Gotham when they were alive, and they got caught up in some bad business. That had eventually led to their death.

It wasn't any one person's fault, but Vi blamed the Gotham vigilantes. From what Danny knew, Vi had been running away from said vigilantes, not wanting to be arrested, and had died because they were too focused on avoiding the vigilantes to pay attention to their surroundings.

The details of their death beyond that was not something Danny knew, he had listened to the necessary details from Clockwork before he left, but he didn't like learning exactly how other ghosts died unless they tell him themselves, it felt too personal.

All he needed to know was, the actions of the Gotham vigilantes had indirectly caused Vi's death, so they were on their way to Gotham to take revenge. That was bad, on so many levels.

The absolute last thing Danny needed was The Batman getting interested in ghosts. Danny had done a great job of managing without his or anyone else's help so far, and he really didn't want them poking their noses into his business now.

That was why Danny was speeding towards Gotham City, hoping to get there before Vi managed to track down a vigilante, as he was sure they didn't have any ways to defend themselves against ghosts.

After flying at nearly top speed for half an hour, Danny finally arrived. Not that long if you think about it, but plenty of time for a vengeful ghost to track down their targets.

With no better method, Danny started flying laps around the city, hoping his ghost sense would go off eventually.

His ghost sense remained quiet, but he found something better.

Batman himself, was right there fighting off a group of thugs. It was a small group of people for a skilled fighter like Batman to take on, he didn't really need backup. Which probably meant, the bird was somewhere nearby..

And yup! Standing on a rooftop close by keeping lookout was Robin.

This was neat, two vigilantes in the same location, now Danny could just stay here and keep guard until Vi showed themselves.

Danny hovered over Batman's fight invisibly, realizing how lucky he was that the man was unaware of his existence, and had no access to ecto-powered weapons. Danny shivered just at the thought.

Now that he was thinking about it, Batman was surrounded by a lot of people. A lot of them were probably innocent people, pulled into this business by a lack of better opportunities. Just like Vi.

And if Vi was here only for revenge, surely they wouldn't risk other people suffering the same fate as them. If they attacked Batman now, any one of the thugs could get caught in the crossfire.

Would Vi just wait it out until Batman was alone? It didn't make a lot of sense. Surely they would act soon, but Batman was surrounded, and Robin was.. Robin was alone!

Danny turned around in a panic as a cold shiver ran through his body.

Shit

He shot off towards Robin at high speed. Now that he had sensed them he could tell where they were (two seconds) Vi was heading right for Robin, their claws out and ready to strike (one second), they were just about to make contact, barely an inch away from Robin, when Danny crashed into them, phasing them both harmlessly through the vigilante and flying them far, far away in the blink of an eye. His heart was drumming so hard in his chest, (he could feel it all the way through his arms, wow) he didn't realize his heart could beat that hard in ghost form, he assumed his core would take over.

Maybe it was just testament to how stressed out Danny was.

That had been too close.

He had barely a moment to rest, as Vi broke out of his hold angrily.

"Foolish boy, do not get in the way of my revenge again."

Vi tried to fly away to try again, but Danny formed an ecto-barrier around them to keep them put.

"Not gonna happen, you're targeting two innocent people."

Vi hissed at him with frustration,

"You know not what you speak of, fool. Those killers parading around as heroes caused my unfair demise, and I shall have reve-"

At that point Danny decided he'd heard enough, it was a school night and he had to get going, so he grabbed the thermos from his belt and sucked Vi into it mid-spiel. He'd heard that same speech enough times to know how it goes.

Robin still alive, Batman unaware of ghosts existing, Crisis averted, and Danny would still make it home with enough time to get a half-decent nights sleep. Things were looking up.

---------

Jason is 14 years old. It's been a year since his soulmate died.

He's gotten good at pretending it doesn't affect him anymore. After that first night where Jason let himself properly cry in Alfred's arms, neither of them had spoken about the matter again. Alfred made it a point to treat Jason exactly the same as before, knowing that if he were to act extra careful as to not upset the boy it would have the opposite effect.

Alfred was great like that, always noticing and remembering things but knowing when not to bring them up.

He pretended not to notice that Jason never wore short sleeved shirts anymore.

When he found Jason huddled away in the library he pretended not to notice how many more romance novels the boy was reading compared to before.

During the darkest nights, when Jason silently wishes he could go join his soulmate wherever they had ended up, Alfred was there without fail. He didn't speak of the things he knew Jason was thinking about, whether it was as to not make Jason uncomfortable or because Alfred himself didn't dare say it out loud, he didn't know.

But he was there, every time.

And when Jason realized it had been a full year since his soulmate died, Alfred was there as a silent support, just a moment away should Jason need him yet never intruding.

If Bruce notices that anything has happened to Jason, he hasn't bothered to ask about it yet. Jason isn't sure if he prefers it that way or not.

On one hand, he doesn't like the idea of Bruce butting into his personal business, the man had never been great with emotions.

But the realization that his father-figure didn't even know what he was going through had Jason wanting to burst into Bruce's study and tell him everything, if even just to get a reaction out of him.

It had been a year, but so far he hadn't said anything.

--------

When Jason is out on the streets of Gotham, the mask of Robin is always a nice barrier to hide behind. He'll lock his emotions up tight in the back of his mind and cover them up with the veil of an unbothered vigilante who had far better things to worry about.

This night he's standing on a rooftop, keeping a lookout as Bruce deals with a group of thugs. The group was small enough that Bruce would have no trouble at all dealing with them, and Jason's time would be better spent keeping an eye out for anyone trying to slink away unnoticed by the bat.

It had been an uneventful few minutes, watching Bruce dispose of the thugs as all of them kept rushing him, not a single one having the bright idea that whatever payout they were promised wasn't worth sticking around anymore.

Then, Jason felt a shiver run up his spine. He felt like he was being watched. It was a foreboding feeling, like something was going to jump at him any moment.

He spun around, quickly assessing his surroundings, but he found nothing out of place.

The feeling did not go away though, only growing more insistent.

And then in the blink of an eye, a gust of wind picks up around Jason as the feeling of danger flares, and Jason is sure he is about to die right there.

In the next second, the wind turns cold, and Jason could swear he saw his breath fog in front of him for a moment. Yet he doesn't feel even the slightest bit frozen.

The cold passes through him impossibly fast, and with it the feeling of danger vanishes, and so between one blink and another Jason is left standing there dumbfounded at what just happened.

He hadn't imagined it, that feeling of danger was nothing concrete but it had been clear as day in Jason's mind.

The wind was definitely real too, he'd felt it rustle his hair as it passed by.

And the biggest piece of evidence he wasn't going crazy, was the small piece of frost on the ground around Jason's feet. He took a step away from it experimentally, and it quickly faded. But it had been there.

The biggest mystery of the night though, the part of this whole thing that shook Jason to his core, was his wrist.

He raised his wrist and pulled back his glove to check, because there was no way he was actually feeling what he thought he was.

But right there, the tiny black heart that was stuck to his wrist as a permanent reminder of what he could have had, was carefully beating in an excruciatingly slow rhythm. Slow, faint, but real.

Jason lost track of time as he stood there, just watching the heart on his wrist beating slower and slower, until it stopped and refused to move again.

For the first time in a year, Jason feels a dangerous sliver of hope sneak it's way into his heart.

It can't be.

But there was no other explanation.

Jason had been in danger, but some unknown force, one that brought an overwhelming feeling of safe with it had saved him.

And his tattoo was telling him his soulmate had been there.

Jason couldn't think of a better explanation than that the one who saved him was a spirit, or ghost of some kind. It sounded ridiculous.

He looks back at his wrist, gently stroking his fingers over the tattoo as the considers it.

It seemed like a ghost saved him.

His soulmate had been there.

His soulmate who was dead.

Jason felt silly for entertaining the thought, but he couldn't help but want to believe it. That tonight he had been about to die, and the spirit of his soulmate had protected him.

He took that realization and stored it away with the rest of his emotions. He didn't know how to feel about it.

He knew, that for the past year his grief had made him consider some terrible things. But how could he possibly want to go join his soulmate now, when they'd done the impossible and appeared next to him for even just a moment, to save his life.

Jason decided then, that no matter what happened, he was going to live. The sadness may never fully go away, by he would live the life he had been given, and his soulmate would simply have to wait until Jason was ready to join them.

With a lighter conscience than he's had in a year, Jason grapples away from the roof and heads back home, a tiny hint of a smile on his face.

------------

First part | Next part | Masterpost

Tags: @craftyexpertchild

Thank you for reading <3

[sigilslvt]

HOW DEEP • SUGURU GETO

☣︎ Summary: It’s rush week at your college and your boyfriend chooses to put his prospective fraternity above your relationship. When you find out, you’re left devastated and, well… in need of a SERIOUS cover-up considering you’d gotten his name tattooed on your ass just two months ago. Good thing famed tattooist, Suguru Geto, has a shop by campus.

Pairing: Tattoist Geto Suguru x Fem Reader

Tags: modern au, pierced geto, tattooed geto, smut, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v, cam sex, squirting, creampie, marking

WC: 7.6k

Art: yoroz_roz on Twitter!

A/N: This was a lot longer than I intended, you’re welcome!

Rush week. You’d prepared yourself for this week to be stressful given the fact that you’re in a new state, far away from your family and friends for the first time in your life. You had decided to commit to the same university as your long-time boyfriend, Ryōmen, and so far, you guys have kept to yourselves and relished in the lack of parental hovering. The problem is, since rush week started, Ryōmen’s been busy with all things fraternity related and you’ve been stuck trying to figure out college life on your own.

Normally being away from him wouldn’t be so bad, it was always as simple as hanging out with friends from home or just cruising around your home state, but you’ve got no friends here and no idea where to go to keep busy. Hence the dilemma at hand and the reason you’re in sweats and a sweater sitting cross legged on your bed in your dorm on a Friday night, of all nights. Your music plays loudly in your headphones, a soft vibration playing against your skull every time the bass thumps just right, your body idly bouncing with the beat. You don’t even notice a voice sounding out until you feel a firm nudge against your shoulder, which makes you look to your side in surprise to see your roommate, Yuki, sitting next to you and waving to get your attention. Your fingers find the pause button on your phone and you slide your headphones down to wrap around your neck.

“Damn, girl, I was beginning to think you were in some sort of trance while praising the devil, jeez. What kind of music is that, anyways!?” She asks, her brows knitting together in both confusion and amusement as she looks at the song cover on your phone, shaking her head.

“S-sorry, sometimes I just need to drown the world out, y’know?” You sheepishly respond, chuckling and flipping your phone around, a bit insecure. Normally, you wouldn’t be so nervous— back home, you had your clique and your tastes aligned perfectly. There was never a worry about being an outsider when in a group of a bunch of goth-grunge addicted teens. But, this was different. You’re in California, now, and there’s nothing but sun, bright colors, preppy girls all around you. You were the odd one out, now.

“Girl!” Yuki snaps in front of your face, making you realize you’d drifted off in thought while she was talking to you.

“Sorry, sorry! What were you saying?” You ask, shaking yourself out of it and rolling your shoulders back, showing her you’re actively listening to whatever it is that she’s trying to say.

“I was saying that you CLEARLY need to get out and what kind of roomie would I be if I didn’t help you get what you need, hm? Get up. There’s a party at Phi Gamma tonight and you, my sweet shut-in, will be coming. No questions asked.” She tells you, already standing and grabbing your hand, dragging you to your closet and planting you there while she opens it.

One thing you’ve learned since getting here and meeting Yuki? Arguing with her is futile. If she doesn’t convince you to do something she thinks is for your own good the first go around, you bet your ass she’s gonna take you by the neck and make you do it. It’s sort of endearing, because you know she means well, it’s just not the type of personality you’re used to.

“Alright. Let’s see what you’ve go— oh? You’ve been holding out on me, I see! What’s with the constant sweats and sweaters when you’ve got style like this!?” She asks after opening your closet, her eyes wide as she sees the amount of clothes, most being pre-made outfits, you have in there. You’re grateful she doesn’t mention the amount of black in your wardrobe that’s only separated by bits of white and grey. “Here, this should be great, go shower and get ready. We leave in forty-five!” You feel the outfit being shoved against your chest before you even see it, making you chuckle at her eagerness before you head to the bathroom.

Thirty minutes later and you’ve showered, done your hair, and perfected your makeup. You’re wearing a black and grey striped sweater that stops mid-rib, dark denim shorts with torn fishnets beneath them, and Gaya 10-Eye Alt Doc Martens— your favorites. You layered some chains, a choker, and a long belt atop your outfit to top it off and switch your two nose studs and septum piercing to silver jewelry to complement the outfit. You do the same with your earrings, nearly forgetting to. Your makeup is dark and sultry, as per usual, a black lip paired with black eyeshadow and liner save for a pop of dark purple in the center of your lids and your under eye. Your hair is down, a black bandana keeping it back save for two strands of hair you keep out in front of your face.

You make your way out of the bathroom and Yuki turns to you, her mouth falling open at the sight of you. “What… the… fuck? Ok I see why your boyfie kept you cooped up here for two weeks after move-in. You’re hot, bitch! And these tattoos? They fuck. Hard.” She compliments you, making you chuckle. She gets closer to trace the cybersigilism tattoo that dawns your neck and collarbones, all the way down to the start of your cleavage. You raise your brow, a bit awkward given how comfortable she is, which she seems to realize, prompting her to step away. “Sorry! I’ve just never seen tats like that before! The ones on your legs are insane, I’d never cover up if I were you.” She shakes her head.

You shake your head and chuckle, but it does prompt a nagging voice in the back of your head asking you why exactly it is that you’ve been covering up head to toe. Was it because you’re scared of being an outcast? Is the weather too hot? No, that’s not it. You think back to a conversation you had with Ryō about being more tame while you were sat on your bed in your dorm. Something about not wanting to seem like the average college e-girl who gets around freshman year. You frown at the memory and shrug at Yuki. “Just haven’t had a reason to get dressed up yet.” You reason, making her shake her head, eyes still wide as she looks you over.

She stops ogling you to finish her own makeup, popping some lip gloss on before clapping once, turning to you. “‘Kay, let’s go!”

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧��

The walk to Phi Gamma isn’t bad in the least and you’re grateful for the California heat persisting through the night. If you were back in Washington, you’d have icicles dripping down your nose right now given it’s ten at night in the beginning of October.

You walk into the frat house with Yuki and you’re immediately suffocated with the smell of hookah smoke, ear-ruining loud music, and so many people. Too many to fit in the house, that’s for sure, but that’s never mattered when it came to parties.

“C’mon, let’s get you loosened up, first!” Yuki screams close to your ear so you hear her over the music, taking your hand to lead you to the kitchen. She pours you a cup of something dark before grabbing a coke and moving to pour that as well, but you hold your hand up to stop her.

“‘M okay, I don’t like mixers or chasers.” You tell her, making her raise her brows and hold her arms up as if to tell you to suit yourself, making you smile widely. You both down your drinks at the same time and she pours another with you both downing them again. With that, she leans close to your ear, speaking loudly enough for you to hear over the music.

“I’m gonna go see if I can find some weed, you smoke?” She asks and you shake your head.

“Not weed.” You respond, reaching in your pocket to show her your pack of Marlboros, scrunching your own face up in disgust and shame. You’re slowly quitting, though, so you give yourself props for that.

She shrugs and heads off, leaving you to yourself. You look around, trying to find a good spot to hang out in before you head to it only to be stopped by a soft pair of hands. “Hey! You’re in my Neurophilosophy class!” You hear the girl say, making you shrug with a nod. “I didn’t think I’d see you here! Didn’t seem like the type to like frat parties! I’m Utahime.” She shouts, clearly a little tipsy judging by the red tint of her cheeks.

You offer her a kind smile and your name before you start heading toward the spot you’d sought out, but she catches your hand and stops you. “Wait! Wanna dance? It’s just that… you’re the only one here I know besides my dumbass friend who’s probably off somewhere bragging about being ‘The Honored One’ because he caught the Phi Gamma chicken for initiation. Apparently that warrants a parade in his name or something.” She says, rolling her eyes at said friend’s antics. When you raise your brow in confusion, she chuckles. “Every year during rush week, Phi Gamma lets out this cursed looking demon chicken from Hell for their pledges to catch. They say it never gets caught before making it back to its coop, but leave it to him to do it. First time in seven years. It’s silly, really.” She explains, waving the conversation away. “So, will you?”

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol, you pitying her situation, or just the fact that you’re happy to meet someone else who actively wants to hang out, but you find yourself saying yes and following her into the crowd of unbelievably sweaty frat boys and sorority girls doused in pink. Literally. Body paint everywhere. You’re sure to avoid stains as you dance with Utahime, chucking as she does the robot to get you to crack a smile. As time passes, you find yourself dancing so close to her that you’re sure you’ll merge into one being soon.

You let a bit more time pass before you decide on another drink, leaning forward to shout in her ear so she hears you. “I’m gonna get another drink, want one?” You ask, earning a head shake from her. Shrugging, you push through the crowd and find yourself in the kitchen again, pouring yourself another red solo cup full of alcohol. You sip on it, smiling to yourself because even though you miss Ryo, you’re still having a better time than you thought you would. That’s when you hear it.

“Bro, have you seen this shit!? No fuckin’ way did Zeta Nu initiate their pledges like this!” A guy shouts to his friend, your ears tuning into the sound of your beloved boyfriend’s frat name. You turn to see him showing his friend a video on his phone and you smile to yourself, happy the initiation is over and looking forward to being told whatever silly thing they had Ryo do.

“I fuckin’ WISH Phi Gamma would make us bang some sorority thot to get in! You think it was to count out whoever came first? Damn, look at bro with the pink hair going in like his life depends on this shit!” You hear the other voice speak up and your heart drops. A knot forms in your stomach and your hand gets clammy around your cup. Of course your mind is going toward the worst case scenario and before you can even think, your feet have carried you to the two guys, your other hand reaching for the phone the first one is holding.

“Lemme see this.” You say, the douche saying something about adding your number while you’re at it, but it’s drowned out into the background noise because you’re zoned in on one thing. Your boyfriend banging a sorority girl and smiling at the camera while flexing his fucking bicep. Flexing. He’s fucking living for this.

You feel bile creeping up your throat and you shove the phone against the guy’s chest, making your way to the door. The second you get outside, you hunch over and puke in the bushes, sobering up by the second. Your hand grasps at your chest and you feel it hammering so hard as though it’s trying to escape. Your other fishes your phone out of your pocket and you flinch seeing Ryōmen has texted you.

Him: I love you <3

You fight the urge to throw up again, your fingers typing back quickly.

You: I love you so much, Ryo. Miss you and wanna see you. May have drank a bit too much, hehe :3 Can I come see you?

You hit send, not even bothering to wait for an answer before you push yourself to head to his dorm, ready to use the excuse that you’re drunk and wanted to see him when you show up. Your phone pings and you open it faster than you thought humanly possible to see another text from him.

Him: Come to me, baby.

Before you know it, you’re at his door, knocking rather hard, if you were being honest, but you don’t care. Not seconds later, he opens it and pulls you into him, immediately moving to kiss your neck, which makes you want to shed your skin. When he doesn’t feel you reciprocate, he pulls away and frowns, eyes searching yours. “What’s the matter, hm?” He asks, head wobbling as the smell of alcohol hits your face. He’s drunk.

You walk into his room with an annoyed sigh, closing the door behind you and pacing for a moment before stopping in front of him. “Ryōm–”

“Y’look so hot, baby. Why were you out drinking looking this hot without me?” He asks with a frown, making you scoff unexpectedly.

“You really don’t wanna bark up that tree right now, Ryo. I need t–” You start, but he interrupts you again.

“And why d’you keep using my name?” He asks.

“Jesus fuck, Ryo. Let me talk!” You shout, your hands flailing for a second. He nods, mocking you with a stupid look on his face silently, making you seethe. “Tell me it isn’t true.” You say, earning a confused look from him. “Tell me you didn’t fuck some random girl to get into a fucking FRATERNITY, Ryo. Tell me you’re not that fucking insane.Tell me you didn’t just throw away YEARS with me after I came all this way to be with you.” You say, your voice firm. You surprise yourself with the fact that no tears have formed in your eyes just yet, the anger far more overwhelming than sadness.

His look of confusion turns to pure shock and it’s like a cold pitcher of water has just been flung in his face. “Who told y– babe. Babe, it was just a stupid fucking initiation thing, it’s not like I actually cheated. You’re my girlfriend, you should be happy, I’m in! I made it because I did what it took and that shows drive. Why the fuck are you even upset right now?” He asks and you have to do a double take to confirm what you thought you saw in his face. He’s genuinely pissed and confused that you’re upset right now.

That does it for you. “Are you saying… you didn’t cheat… because it was for an initiation? You want me to be HAPPY that you stuck your dick in someone that isn’t me? Fuck you, Ryōmen. I don’t know you at all. The boy I fell in love with would have been a man and turned the stupid fucking initiation down. This frat? Would have only mattered while here. Us? We were supposed to be together until death. Fuck you for choosing something so stupidly temporary. We’re done.” You spit out, rage bubbling in your core like you’re made from it. He grabs your wrist as you make your way out of his room, but you tear it away, every part of you in utter disbelief that you ever let a man like him touch you at all.

You make your way outside, your phone pinging again and again, no doubt messages from him trying to gaslight you into believing he did what he had to do for his future. You ignore them, sucking in the fresh air like your life depends on it and taking in your surroundings, still hoping in the back of your mind that they’ll all melt away and you’ll wake up from this nightmare. You, someone who’s always been mindful of your future and who has always taken care to do what’s best for you, are now in a new state so far from everyone you love all alone because of a boy. A fucking boy.

You take off the promise ring he gave you for your five year anniversary and toss it as far as you can, hating the idea of having a symbol of what you thought was true love with him on your body… and then you roll your eyes as you facepalm. Your fucking tattoo. Against the advice of literally everyone you know, you’d gotten a tattoo of his name on the top of your ass. “Fuck me…” You mutter to yourself, immediately googling a tattoo studio near you.

“Cursed Ink Studios…” You read the top result out loud, seeing it’s only a thirteen minute walk from here. With an annoyed shrug, you start making your way there, silently cursing yourself for assuming it’d stay warm all night. The cold nips at your practically exposed thighs and your nose turns its familiar shade of red quickly. You pick up the pace, hoping to find warmth in the studio.

A cigarette and a half later, you find yourself in front of the studio, snubbing out the last half of your cigarette and flicking it into the trash can. The bell above the door chimes as you make your way in and you’re greeted by a brunette woman who looks… worn down, to say the least. No doubt from the loads of drunken college students who’ve wandered in here tonight.

“Welcome to Cursed Ink Studios, my name’s Shoko. How can we help you tonight, babe?” She asks, leaning forward on the reception desk. You appreciate the fact that she doesn’t comment on the fact that you’ve thoroughly been done in by the cold wind that’s whipped your hair in every direction and kissed your nose until it’s red.

You shift on your feet, scratching your head. “I, uhh… I need a cover-up done.” You say, making her sigh as though she feels sorry for you.

“I’m sorry, babe, but cover-ups need an appointment ahead of time.” She says, earning a face palm from you. You nod and turn to head out, but a voice stops you.

“Wait. It’s fine, Shoko. I have time.” A smooth, deep voice sounds out from deeper within the studio and you turn toward it to see quite possibly the hottest man you’ve ever laid eyes on. His skin is like cream, hair half tied up letting the rest fall down his back and shoulders, his eyebrow is adorned with a piercing, and gauges are sported on his ear lobes. He’s wearing a black tank top that hangs loose on him, his arms both covered in tattoos, the most notable one being a large dragon on his right arm. He’s carrying keys, which lets you know he was likely about to head home and you feel guilt pooling in your stomach.

You can’t help but clam up at the sight of him and you gulp before shaking your head. “N-No, it’s okay, really, it’s late and I should have known I’d need an appointment. Y-You probably wanna get home, seriously, it’s okay.” You say, trying desperately to keep your voice steady. He chuckles, eyes closing as he shakes his head and you look to Shoko, who gives him a knowing look, rolling her eyes.

“Nah, you’re good. What’re you needing covered up, angel?” He asks you, making your heart flutter. You don’t know if it’s the alcohol in your system making you so flustered, but it’s a welcome feeling compared to the anger you feel when thinking of Ryōmen. Which reminds you…

“So, and I���m prepared for all the judgment you’re probably gonna throw my way, I got my boyf— EX boyfriend’s name tattooed on my ass cheek a couple months back. Turns out he’s a cheating dickhead, so I need to get it covered up. Preferably with something similar to my current tattoos. Maybe… uhh… maybe a—“ He chuckles and interrupts you.

“I got you. And I’ll spare the criticism of your choice to tattoo his name. Just fill out the forms with Shoko and I’ll go get set up in my room. I’ll sketch something out, too. Cybersigilism, huh?” He asks, smirking as he nods at you while walking backward to give you a once over before he heads to his station.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

After filling out the forms, you slowly walk to the room you saw the man head to and you find him working on an iPad, drawing. “You can sit down, angel, I’m just finishing up.” He says, gesturing to his tattoo bed. You take the opportunity to look around his room, gawking at all of the drawings and photos of tattoos he has splayed on his walls. The decor matches your tastes, goth-grunge styling everywhere. It looks like he specializes in cybersigilism and neo tribal tattoos, which helps to reinforce your confidence in him.

“Geto Suguru, by the way.” He says, suddenly towering above you. You hadn’t even noticed he stood up and looking up at him from this angle makes your heart race. You tell him your name and his face takes on a look that you can only assume is curiousness, but he quickly changes his expression to a smirk. “So, here’s what I’ve got. Noticed the hearts you’ve got around your knees and the eyes you’ve got on your neck, so I decided I’d go with a sword. Figured it’d be fitting.” He chuckles as he shows you the iPad, which manages to draw a quick laugh from you.

“Fitting is exactly the word I’d use. I love it. Let’s do it.” You say, genuinely surprised he could even come up with something so quickly.

“Alright, I’m just gonna need you to take those shorts and fishnets off, angel. You can leave your underwear on, I’ll just keep them out of the way with some paper towels. Stay standing after so I can put the stencil on, ‘kay?” He asks. You know it’s what he needs you to do in order to do the tattoo, but your face heats up at the thought of being half naked with him. He closes the door to his room and turns away to prepare the stencil, leaving you to do as asked.

Slowly and tentatively, you take off your shoes and then undo your shorts, pulling them down and stepping out of them carefully. Next is your fishnets, you’re careful not to rip them when you take them off and lay them on top of your shorts. You’re thankful you wore a thong tonight, knowing it won’t get in the way of the tattooing.

He turns around, eyeing you as though just trying to see where he needs to put the stencil, but you can see something else in his eye. Maybe he pities you? You sure fucking hope not.

“Alright, ‘m gonna place the stencil and then I’ll need you to just stand for a bit while it dries.” He says and you nod. He’s methodical in stepping forward, disinfecting, shaving the area, and then placing the stencil on you, being sure to perfect the alignment so the sword covers Ryōmen’s name entirely. His long fingers press down for just a second before he removes the paper and steps back to see the alignment from afar. “Fuckin’ perfect.” He hisses under his breath, but you hear. You tell yourself he’s just proud of his work and try not to acknowledge the pooling between your thighs. “How’s it look, angel? Don’t be afraid to let me know if you want anything changed.” He tells you.

You move to step in front of the mirror, turning to your side so you can see your ass better. It plumps up as you flex and you nod at the placement before looking up to see him with his eyes shut and his head up at the ceiling. “Y’know, you really don’t have to do this if you’re tired, I can make an appointment.” You say, feeling bad.

“Trust me, I’m very much awake. Made me question if I was dreaming when you walked in, angel, but I’m awake.” He says, your eyes going wide and your mouth falling open, but just as casually as he said that, he moves on. “Alright, ‘m gonna have you lay on your side facing away from me. Just poke your,” he grunts “poke your ass out toward me and I’ll get started.”

You do as told, your body hot and exposed and your mind reeling from how casually he’d just said that. Surely it must be for tips, you can’t imagine he’d want you. Not just because he’s built like a God, but he must be taken, right? There’s no way on Earth someone like him could be single.

“Ready?” He asks and you nod, breaking from your thoughts. With your confirmation, he smirks and leans forward, beginning to tattoo you. Him being so close to your ass makes you want to tense up, but you steel yourself and rip your eyes away from him so you can attempt to stop the wetness pooling between your folds like a bitch in heat.

“So. ‘M guessing this was recent, hm? The whole cheating thing. Not trying to pry, just curious. We don’t have to talk about it.” He says as he focuses on the tattoo, dipping the needle into the black ink he’d set up.

“Mhm. Couple of hours ago. Ran a train on a sorority girl as some fucking frat initiation. Piece of shit.” You spit, hearing him scoff and looking to see him shake his head.

“Ouch. Yeah, he’s a fucking idiot, to say the least.” He responds and you bite your lower lip, blushing and looking forward again, at the mirror.

“I’m the idiot. I moved from Washington all the way here with him so we could go to the same college and I had no idea he was capable of this. Now I’m away from family and friends and just… stuck here.” You roll your eyes, huffing.

“We can be friends. I mean, it’s contingent on you coming around more often, though. Think you can do that, angel?” He says, an undertone you can’t quite discern in his voice that makes your mouth go dry.

“Y-yeah. I mean, I plan to get more tattoos. If you do a good job, I mean.” You respond, nearly choking on your words because of that damned pet name he keeps calling you.

“Mmm, trust me, I’ll do you right.” He says and this time the undertone in his voice is so painfully clear that you feel yourself clenching around nothing, your eyes fluttering closed for just a moment. You decide not to respond, scared your voice will come out shakier than intended.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

The next few hours go by in the same fashion. Small talk with him lacing in subtle compliments or flirtations. That goddamned pet name falling from his perfect lips. By the end, you were sure he’d feel the way your body was pulsing with need for him, all thoughts of Ryōmen out the fucking window.

“All done, angel. Tell me how you feel about it. If it’s good, and it looks damn good, I’ll put on some second skin and cash you out.” He says, standing up from his chair and stretching. Your eyes don’t miss his v line peeking out from his lifted shirt and you have to tear them away to instead look at your tattoo.

“Fuck, it’s perfect. God, yeah, I love it! Lemme just take a picture so I can post it and piss this asshole off before you wrap it.” You say and he chuckles.

“Mind if I take a few, too?” He asks.

Before you even realize what you’re saying, you respond, “What? For your spank bank?” By the end of the question, your eyes go wide and you mentally curse yourself out, about to apologize when he gives you a genuine laugh.

“No, angel, I won’t need a picture to remember an ass like that.” He quips back and you almost lose your breath. Without missing a beat, he picks up his phone and motions for you to take your picture before he takes his.

Once you do, you open your Lightroom app as he moves to take his pictures. It opens to a nude you’d put a filter on and you suck in a sharp breath, trying to exit quickly before he notices to no avail. He whistles and sucks his teeth and you immediately start to explain. “Sorry, I just like aesthe—“ He cuts you off.

“He’s definitely missing a few brain cells. You’re as good as it fuckin’ gets, angel.” He says, making your heart clench and stomach knot. “Y’know…” He leans forward. “There’s another way you can make him upset. I’m sure that picture’ll do the job, but don’t you wanna go above and beyond? I can help with that.” He says. You don’t miss his hand coming down to rest on the apple of your ass, making your core throb.

“I— how?” You ask, surprised your voice made it’s way out at all with how dry your mouth and throat are.

“Atta girl. First, you can let me bury my face between those pretty thighs of yours so you can take a picture, if you can even hold your phone steady, that is. Then, if you can think straight enough to still be thinking about him, I’ll make sure you can only think about how good I feel inside you. Maybe I’ll even record so you can send that, too. How’s that sound, angel?” He asks, thumb gently brushing the skin of your ass, voice smooth and sultry. You’re sure that with his voice alone, he could run a cult of people who’d do his bidding with no questions asked. And you’d be in it.

You nod at his suggestion, biting your lower lip and looking up at him through your lashes. He chuckles and leans forward, face inches from yours. “I don’t speak nod, pretty girl. Y’r gonna have to tell me out loud.” He says, his hand moving from your ass to grip your chin firmly enough to keep you looking up at him.

God, that statement alone makes your stomach do flips and, yet again, you’re breathless. “Yes, please yes.” You manage to get out, squeezing your thighs to try to alleviate the pressure between them.

“Good girl, using your manners.” He purrs before his lips mash against yours, earning a choked moan from you instantly. He tastes of cigarettes and mint, a flavor you find yourself more addicted to by the second. You feel his tongue flick against yours for just a moment before he pulls away and chuckles. “Been wanting to do that since you walked in. Been wanting to taste you, more, though.” He says, so you move to lay on your back, but he stops you. “Mm mm, don’t fuck my work up. All fours, angel. All fours.” He says, the command emphasized by him patting his hand on your thigh twice.

Doing as told, you rest your stomach against the cold leather and prop your ass up for him, your hands holding onto either sides of the chair. Your embarrassment at the knowledge that your thong is most definitely soaked is washed away when you turn your head to look back at Geto, seeing a prominent bulge straining against his jeans.

His large, ring-adorned fingers splay across your ass cheeks as he squeezes them, grunting. “Such a pretty ass.” He hisses, moving one hand to thumb at where he knows your hole is beneath your thong, pressing in just slightly to tease you, making you mewl out. “Shh, sweetheart. Unless y’want everyone outside to hear you, hmm?” He warns and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth to shut yourself up.

His fingers curl around the waistband of your thongs and he slowly peels them from your sopping wet pussy, leaving them down by your knees. The cold air hits your core and your eyelids flutter closed as you try to stop yourself from shuddering. “So fuckin’ pretty. You this wet already, angel? All for me?” He asks, chuckling as he slips a finger between your folds, teasing you as he soaks his it in your syrupy slick.

“Mmph, yes… fuck…” You moan out, feeling the pad of his finger press against your clit, rubbing in small teasing circles. Your eyes open and you look back to see him palming himself over his jeans. Your brows knit together in a needy frown and you pout. “Suguru, please!” You whine, needing more from him.

“Please what, angel? Please taste you? Please fuck you? Please finger you? Gotta tell me what y’want.” He murmurs and the look on his face tells you he loves this. Loves playing with you like a toy. To your surprise, you love it, too. He smirks at you and circles your achingly empty hole when you take too long to answer. “Hmm?” He hums.

You try to push back on his fingers, hungry for more, but he withdraws them, instead sucking your slick from his fingers, his eyes rolling back into his head at the taste. “Oh fuck, w-want all of tha— hnngh!” You cry out when he plunges a thick, ringed finger into your waiting hole. He shushes you and clicks his tongue, reminding you to keep your voice down. Nodding in response, you press back into his finger.

“Greedy girl. You’re gonna regret that later.” He says, beginning to pump his finger in and out of your cunt as he bends over and kisses all over one of your ass cheeks, then moves to get on his knees behind you. You can feel his breath on your slick folds and you want desperately to feel his tongue, your clit throbbing in need of attention. As though he reads your mind, he presses one quick kiss to it, grunting as your slick coats his lips. One swipe of his pierced tongue through your folds is all he needs to know he wants more. Much more.

You’re about to beg for it, too, but you feel his finger slip from your hole, being replaced by his long tongue, the muscle curving up and down and then swirling as if he’s trying to consume all of the slick you have to offer. Your fingers tighten on the chair, the leather squeaking in response. “Oh my God, S-Suguru!” You moan out, body shuddering in pleasure.

He pulls his tongue out to spit messily on your pussy, moving to finger you again, but this time adding two fingers. “M’gonna need to get you ready for me, ‘kay pretty girl?” He murmurs against your clit, earning a drawn out moan from you. You feel him remove his fingers and he replaces his lips with a harsh smack to your pussy that feels like pure electric pleasure. “Use your words.” He orders.

“Y-Yes! Fuck, yes…” You speak up immediately, eyes rolling back when he plunges his fingers back into you. You hear him hum in approval before his lips surround your clit again, sucking it into his mouth and caressing it with his tongue. He eats you out like a man starved and the sight combined with the pleasure makes your core tighten. His moans are muffled by you pushing back against his tongue. “S-Suguru, m’gonna—“

“Mm mm, baby, take that picture first. Gotta stay on task.” He tells you after breaking away from your clit to press sloppy open mouthed kisses on your thighs. You cry out a whine while your trembling fingers find your phone, lifting it to point it toward his mirror. You make sure to catch his face buried in your cunt when you snap the picture, making him grunt at the sound of the camera shutter. “That’s it, pretty, c’mon, cum… you can do that for me, right?” He coos and you feel him quicken his fingers inside you, the noises coming from your pussy absolutely fucking dirty as he does. His tongue starts flicking against your clit and the knot in your stomach snaps, your orgasm being clawed from you by this greedy man who pulls his fingers from your twitching hole to bury his tongue in it, lapping up your release.

You’re left panting when he finishes, eyes closed to stop the room from spinning around you. You feel his hands rub from the bottoms of your thighs up to your ass and he groans. “Fuck it, fuck the tattoo, need to see that pretty face while I’m inside you.” He grunts, flipping you around roughly and pulling your thongs off the rest of the way, tossing them to the side, making you yelp.

You open your eyes to watch as his deft fingers unbutton and unzip his pants, his other hand finding your mouth, pushing between your lips. “Taste.” He tells you and you suck the slick off his fingers happily as he pulls his cock out, your eyes widening at the sight. Suguru’s long and thick. Your expression is obvious to him and he winks, pulling his fingers from your lipstick ruined lips to grab you by the chin. “You can take it, right? You’re a big girl.” He taunts you by running his length between your folds, his tip nudging your clit deliciously.

“F-Fuck I… I can take it.” You say, lying, but knowing he’ll make you take it. Thanks to your orgasm, his tip is coated in your slick and he presses it against your entrance, making you wince. His free hand grabs one of yours and he intertwines his fingers with your smaller ones, pinning your hand above your head while he kisses you hungrily, tasting of you. At the same time, his tip slowly pushes past the first ring of muscles inside of you, a shaky moan coming from your lips and flowing into his mouth.

He grunts as he invades your cunt inch by torturously thick inch until he bottoms out, your legs shaking in response. He moves to kiss your neck before bringing his lips to your ear. “That’s my fucking girl, so goddamn tight. Gonna fuck you so good angel, be good f’me, okay?” He whispers in your ear before he sucks on your earlobe, withdrawing his cock to the tip before his hips snap forward in one sharp movement, making your mouth fall open in a silent cry.

He sets an unforgiving pace, his free hand holding one of your thighs up so he gets in at a better angle, his tip bullying your sweet spot with each thrust. Good was a fucking understatement, he was making you see stars. “Please don’t stop, ohmyfuckinggodddd!” You moan out, your bodies connecting violently, plap, plap, plaps echoing through his room.

His movements are so hungry, like he’ll never get enough of you as he moans at the feeling of your cunt trying to suck his soul from him. You feel him pull his fingers from yours and he stands straight, not letting up on his thrusts. You notice your phone now in his hand and the video capture sound plays, your face reddening. You can’t stop the way your pussy flutters knowing he’s recording now and he doesn’t miss it. “Such a slutty fuckin’ pussy, fuck! You like being on camera, don’t you, angel?” He asks, and you hide your face, nodding. That earns you one harsh thrust before he stills. “Mm mm, what’d I say about nodding. Thought y’were gonna be a good girl f’me?” He asks, making you whimper.

“Fuck, y-yes I like being on camera! Please keep going, please don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop!” You beg, snaking a hand down to try and relieve the feeling between your legs by rubbing your clit, but he smacks your hand away with the one that was holding your thigh before resuming his punishing pace.

“There you go, pretty, there you fuckin’ go. God, that ex is a fuckin’ lunatic, you’re SO. FUCKIN’. TIGHT.” He praises you, the last three words being delivered with snaps of his hips that push his cock so impossibly deep inside you that you were sure he’d rupture an organ. “Loo— ngh look, pretty girl. Look at me bulging you out like this.” He instructs, his hand moving to point at the spot below your navel that juts out every time his length is fully sheathed inside you.

You look down to see and your head immediately falls back at the sight, eyes rolling back, back arching off the seat. He rewards you by moving his hand back down to your clit, using the whole of his fingers to play with it in harsh motions back and forth and back and forth. “Mmm’fuck! Sugu, gonna cum, gonna c-cum!” You warn him, no longer giving a flying fuck if anyone hears you, you were too fucked out to think about it at all.

“Right behind you, angel. Where d’you want it, hmm?” He asks, earning a look of confusion on your dazed, fucked out face. “My cum. Where. Do. You. Want it?” He asks, accentuating the words with thrusts.

“H-hah! In-Inside! Please fucking cum in me, I’m cumming!” You moan, arms flying up to grip the head of the seat as your cunt clamps down onto his cock, loud squelches sounding out as you squirt all over him, making him groan and throw your phone on his counter, not bothering to end the video.

“Fuckin’ hell, m’gonna fill you up so good, shit!” He hisses, leaning forward and propping himself up on body fists, rolling his hips into you sloppily as his orgasm hits him and he shoots cum spurt after spurt into your greedy pussy that continues to spasm and milk him for everything he’s got. You notice strands of his hair have come free of his half bun and they tickle your face as he hovers above you, sweat beading on his forehead. “Fuuuck…” He groans, pulling out after a while of being buried inside you. It leaves you feeling painfully empty.

He watches as his cum starts to spill from your swollen cunt with a smirk, moving to finger it back inside of you, making you whine. He chuckles and grabs your thongs, bringing your legs back together so he can slide them back on you, patting your pussy when he’s done. “So you have something to remember me by on your way home. Actually… you trust me?” He asks and you’re too far into your mind to say anything but yes.

Before you know it, you hear him wash his hands and put on gloves before his tattoo gun buzzes to life. “M’gonna mark you so you don’t forget how deep I get. That okay, angel?” He asks and you almost nod until you remember his earlier commands.

“Mhm…” You hum out, earning a smile from him as he bends forward between your spread legs, tattooing a thick line under your navel with the initials ‘G.S.’ Next to it. You shake your head, still too blissed out to even realize that you traded your ex boyfriend’s name for a stranger’s initials. He wipes it clean and puts second skin on it, too, before he stands straight.

“Think you can stand well enough to get dressed?” He asks and you scoff, rolling your eyes. You stand from the chair, wobbly and definitely sore, but capable enough to put your fishnets, shorts, and Doc Martens back on. He marvels at you while you do so. Once you’re done, he grabs your phone and ends the video, going to your contacts and adding his number. He hands you your phone back with a grin.

You take it and follow him when he opens his studio door, suddenly feeling all of the eyes in the shop on you. You recognize a face there, now. Utahime’s standing, mouth agape, with Shoko and some white-haired drunk guy who’s also staring at you two with his piercing blue eyes. You find yourself hiding a bit more behind Geto as you walk to the cash register.

“Ring her up for seventy-five percent off. She already paid for the rest.” He tells Shoko as he winks at you. With that, he starts to walk away, but not before he turns to you one last time. “Remember, angel. We’re friends, now.” He smirks before heading back into his room, leaving you to pay.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

The next morning, you wake up hungover. You’re wearing your favorite Kuromi pajamas— a crop top and booty shorts. You walk into the bathroom, scrolling on your phone and starting to brush your teeth when you see a text to Ryōmen with three attachments. A picture of Geto eating you out, the video of him fucking you, and lastly… the new tattoo. You look at yourself in the mirror to see the line with his initials and your memory becomes clearer as you look at yourself in disbelief. “What… the fuck?”

[room-surprise]

(Otta also has tattoos, and when she sits on the ground and touches it with her hands, she's likely meditating in order to cast her spells.) I know in a previous post about magic I ended up writing a bunch about the many different "focuses" that spellcasters use in Dungeon Meshi, and how Kui consistently makes sure every caster in the story has SOMETHING that they are using/doing that could plausibly function as a focus... They just vary wildly in how they look and how they are used. An incomplete list of things we've seen are staves, wands, musical instruments, tattoos, books, pieces of paper, magic circles, blood, bottles of water/fire/earth/air, and bird skulls.

Chanting, physical gestures, movements, meditation and touching the target are all a type of "focus" as well, in the form of ritual behavior.

The exceptions to this are the time Marcille was forced to cast without her staff (and struggled mightily to do it), when Falin cast a spell after her resurrection and it's a hint that something is wrong with her, and some (but not all) of Mithrun's spellcasting.

So it seems spellcasters can cast without a focii, and without chanting, but it's shocking and not normally done, based on how Marcille and others react to seeing it happen.

Some spells don't require lengthy chants or the obvious use of a focus, and it's implied that's because they're easy to do, like the spell for walking on water, or the light spell. Things that are more difficult require more focus, and therefore more effort on the part of the caster. This also implies that the more skillful, talented or powerful a caster is, the less effort they need to make.

I think a good way to explain it would be comparing magic in Dungeon Meshi to spraying water out of a hose. Without a nozzle on the hose, the water comes out without much control. With a nozzle, you can control where the hose is aiming better, start and stop the flow, and focus the water into a more forceful stream.

I would also disagree with assuming that the magic system is "riffing on D&D" though lots of people assume that Dungeon Meshi's world is just a copy and paste of D&D. Kui has never played D&D, she only read the rule books after she'd already planned and started writing Dungeon Meshi, and D&D isn't really popular in Japan.

(The video game Wizardry is much more influential there, and Kui is a fan of Wizardry, but the specific things Kui borrowed from Wizardry don't really seem to tie into how magic is used in Dungeon Meshi.)

I say this because the way magic works in D&D is inspired by western fantasy fiction, real world history, mythology and folklore, and Kui has clearly read a ton about these things, and so her work is also based on the same source material... But probably not on D&D, which she only seems to have passing familiarity with.

Pretty much every element of Dungeon Meshi is riffing off of something from the real world... And the real world idea that some kind of ritual activity, physical focus object, or marking are required to do magic predates written history. It's very old, and very common across almost every culture on earth.

About the question on magic staves, one intresting note is that Elven magic is always, or very nearly always, shown to be used with a staff, while Gnomic magic is often done barehanded. In essence, the two types seem to roughly fall in line with the D&D Arcane/Divine (or Wizard/Cleric, appropriately) idea, and are likely riffing on it. As to why Elf magic always uses an implement, likely because it is by basic nature about exact control of spirits instead of just compelling them to take action?

Falin technically has studied gnome system magic and she uses a staff so perhaps it's a preference they have as a race of what type of magic to use rather than their system?

But yes you can notice that! They seem to use tools (like golem cores) but they don't seem to use staves like the others, Maizuru is the only one that also seems to use other tools too (A scroll and papers?) so it seems it's down to preference how to perform magic (Considering the characters that use staves I imagine they make it easier to aim)

Edit: oh yeah like @heattth mentioned in the replies lots of elves use magic without staves too (lycion and fleki use magic tattoos I imagine and otta just uses her hands on the floor) so probably it depends more on the type of magic being used more than race? Personal preference?

[0alix0]

Overusage of Lore

a lot of people tend to say that bioware put little to no lore into Veilguard, and i might be on a minority on this to me it's way too much and way too shallow

The entire game feels like writers just scream at you "Look at all the magical thing we have!! So we have Titans! And Evanuris! And Illuminati Those Across the See! And-- are you listening? You better listen cuz there are more! We have Shadow Dragons! We have Griffons! We--"

OMG calm down it's not a fucking Warcraft

the best thing in DA was the way it beautifully showed real life issues through the lens of medieval fantasy world.

The dalish weren't so fascinating because they had an entire language made for them and pretty tattoos. They were fascinating because they were enslaved, fought for freedom, then got their land taken away YET STILL continued to fight for survival, for their cultural identity, their children and their children's children, for freedom. Literally combination of native american's and jewish history. Because despite having one goal they all had different approach and opinion about other of their kin: city elves (those disconnected from their culture) and half-elves ("can they be considered elves?" "should they be allowed to be a part of dalish?").

The city elf origin wasn't so memorable because every npc had a backstory with a length of bible. It was memorable because it was the most obvious analogy on racial oppression, segregation, colonialism and fetishism in the entire franchise. Because it had the guts to actually show in details the horrors of these things.

Broodmothers weren't so horrifying because it's a female mixture of jubba hutt and a fucking pudge from dota with a detailed explanation their anatomy. They were horrifying because they were paralleling a very real misogyny, mistreatment, the way how women in some countries are seen as nothing but a walking uteruses, where the only thing they're good for is to give birth

AND bioware doubled it while doing the same thing with Orzammar, cast system & Rica!

The Circles weren't so interesting because we've got dozens of pages in WoT explaining their hierarchy/fraternities. No, they were interesting because it was literally a bunch of medieval GULAGs with a function of a mental hospital, it showed what mistreatments happen there, the abuse, child abduction and enforcement of religion.... And from the side of templars it was a discussion about professional deformation, addictions and the way high ranking people abuse those to control their underlings.

..... And you know, if we were back in origins, griffons, for example, would've probably been used as a parallel on irl eco terrorism. it might've been about how Wardens despite their good nature unintentionally bonded the general association of the entire animal species to their order and abused this connection to the point when the species was beyond preservation!

and btw, then that decision in davrin's quest would actually had any meaning, instead of throwing wardens into mud (again) and turning isseya into a villain for no fkn reason.

lore is only good as long as it's used for purpose, when it has things to discuss, not just exist

i don't fucking care about titans/evanuris/and other shit because they're just a 30 pages long article in codex and WoT trying to explain magic and write DA timeline almost to a fucking mesozoic era. it's BORING. Get me emotionally invested, then i'll care

[foone]

Do you ever get the almost-writers-block feeling where your brain gives you an idea but then completely deserts you when it comes to actually fleshing it out or writing a story with it?

Mine came up with "a future where people subscribe to patreons for body models, which they then can wear"

So like you would pay 5$ a month and now you have the body of the person you subscribed to.

And all I can think of is some complications:

* if you stop subscribing or they end their patreon, you're out a body. You gotta find another one, fast. Your clothes might not fit anymore! You bought them for that body!

* the person who actually owns the body has to maintain it, as any changes will be reflected on all their patrons. Get a tattoo? Now hundreds or thousands of people have the same one. Dye your hair? I hope everyone likes being blonde! You'd probably have, like, polls for this sort of thing. Monetized Democratic body choices.

* what if they get hit by a car? A thousand people suddenly break their legs at once?

* licensing differences for bodies. Like, plenty of body patreons to have a "no doing porn" clause (because it'd be visually identical to the owner doing it), but some restrictive ones have "no having sex" (or "no having straight sex", in one notible example)

* you can subscribe to multiple body patreons and swap between which one you use on a daily basis

* pirated bodies on the darkweb

* police trying to solve crimes when the face that shows up on the cameras isn't the perp, it's some instagram model from Atlanta.

* society gets even weirder about fat shaming because anyone can wear the body of a person who weighs less than a sack of flour. Men on social media saying you gotta get her to show you childhood pictures so you can figure out if she's "really" fat.

* "we'd talked a lot online and she seemed really nice and we had great chemistry but when we finally met up, it turns out she always wears the Caitlin body!" "oh no, isn't that what your ex wore?" "exactly! And you know I've still got trauma from everything she put me through..."

* lotta young trans people figure some things out really quick. Forget "trying out crossdressing in secret" or "asking if people can use different pronouns on discord", how about trying having a different gender's body for a day?

* weird hackers trying to figure out how to modify the body-rental system so they can be dragons or elves. Speaking of which,

* people with body modifications to make themselves look less human being very popular. You can be an elf, thanks to that guy in Bowling Green, Florida who got the surgery to make his ears pointy. Apparently it paid for itself within 6 months.

* body reviews. People try out bodies and review how they are in looks and flexibility and stamina and any random aches and pains they might have.

* imagine reading one for your body. Someone walked a mile in your feet and gave a review of how your body looks and feels.

* weird couples who both wear the same body. Worse, polycules. They get together for a big cuddlepile and it's just 7 of the same body, and it gets difficult to tell where one begins and another ends.

* getting a bunch of information when you rent a new body, so you can know how it works and any odd things you gotta watch out for. Plus makeup tutorials and such, to know how to look exactly like how that body looked in certain photos

* everyone goes back to passwords on their phone. Fingerprints and facial recognition are no good, since someone could just rent the same body and now they have the same fingerprints and face.

* a subculture of disabled people who rent specific bodies not for their looks so much as their painless functionality. One of the most rented bodies amongst them is a woman from Minnesota who is definitely no model, but she's a 26 year old with no aches and pains and body that has plenty of energy and flexibility.

* oh so much drama about if it's ethical to rent bodies from other races. Predictable scandals where it turns out some musician or TikTok star is a white guy, despite their appearance as someone non-white. People get a lot madder at the white people wearing blackbody than the ones wearing asianbody, for reasons.

* a little post-it note inside a Starbucks where the customers can't see it, counting how many of a given body they've had in that morning. Someone named Stephan had 12 tally marks, and Lauren has 8. It's only 9:32 am.

Anyway yeah I have writer's block and can't do anything with this concept. Clearly.

[cowgirlcherrie]

florist! abby Headcanons ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

a/n: something quick n sweet you knowwwww got this random thought and had to write it I couldn’t resist I couldn’t. I also saw that no one done florist! abby(?) so I wanted to be the first to hop on! plus I missed writing for Abs — my baby, so enjoy ♡

warnings: 18+, MDNI, some fluff, gets smuttier halfway in, strap, blowjob (strap), eating you out, mentions of obsessive behaviors, polaroid nudes-ish, fingering, edging, public-sex-ishh, soft dom! Abby, tatted! Abby. Hinted at smoker Abby if you squint, petnames, fingers in mouth, masturbation, use of the word mommy, use of the word pussy, fem reader.

divider creds here

ೀ florist! Abby wears a basic white cropped t-shirt and black dickies under her beige apron. Her apron has a rainbow flag pin, with black pliers in one pocket. Doc Martins on her feet, tied miserably into a bow, it’s a miracle she doesn’t trip around the flower shop. She has a carabiner on her belt loop that jingles every time she walks. 

– apart from smelling like the flowers (obvi bc of where she works) smells like heavy pine and fresh soap, like forget the additives – just clean if ykyk

ೀ florist! Abby gets little patchwork tattoos in random places: a dainty lavender tattoo on her wrist, a little crescent moon behind her ear, paw prints on her bicep for her late dog Alice, a ‘gentle artist’ in bolded times new roman font – but dainty on her forearm. Her knuckles are tatted spelling out “FUCK YOU”.

ೀ florist! Abby that has a ‘Save the Bees!’ sticker on the back of her phone case. Super Bee activist.

ೀ florist! Abby who spends all day in the floral shop, playing music from her playlist on the shop’s aux, slightly swaying to the music as she works on a bouquet. She works with such prestige, god her hands work so quickly at building arrangements but the outcome is so beautiful and that’s why she has many customers. She definitely uses any leftover flowers as bookmarks for her books.

ೀ florist! Abby who’s aux will go from Lauryn Hill to Boy Genius to Mac Miller — she gets compliments on her music taste by customers all the time.

ೀ florist! Abby stops working on a bouquet when you walk into the store because of how confused you look. Wanting to save a damsel in distress. Abby moves from her place at the counter walking over to where you stood looking at the different types of flowers, creeping behind you. You smell divine to her, driving her head crazy knowing that your scent alone will be stuck in her head all day. The floral shop is a slow yet steady business, so Abby definitely doesn’t forget a face or a smell. The form-fitting dress you wore that day, the way your hands bunched at the fabric in confusion had her head spinning!

“Beautiful aren’t they?” Abby whispers from behind you,

Actually scares the living shit out of you when you see her standing behind you, but the way the sun was hitting her face from the big window panels made you less nervous. Rather in awe at the beauty in front of you. Her sunkissed skin, and silky blonde mane, were raveled in a delicate braid with wispies around her face. The raspiness from her voice – which honestly sounded like a smoker's voice now that you thought about it. 

ೀ florist! Abby who makes small talk with you while making your boquette for you (taking her slow sweet time), asking you where you’re from and what you’re doing in town? Absolutely praying that the flowers aren’t for some significant other of yours, Abby letting out an exhale when you say that they’re for your mom who you are visiting for dinner. When you mention you are unsure of what flowers to get don’t worry Abby will help you!

“So pretty girl, are you more minimalistic, talking Lilies, Gardenia’s, Jasmine – which is over there...or colorful? Which I think your beautiful self enjoys a nice Orchid, Camellia, or Begonia?”

Definitely shocks you with how well she knows her stuff

ೀ florist! Abby zones out when you are speaking and stares at your lips for far too long, looking at the way your pink gloss shines wondering how your pretty lips would look taking her strap. Percase covered in spit, from your saliva that has built up from blowing her off. Abby wanted to do nothing more than take the pretty little fabric ribbon from your hair and tie it around your hands as she went down on you while you beg her to touch you in all the right places – it was all a dream to her. Wet dreaming with you right in front of her.

Undeniably horny and touch deprived…she spends so much time in the floral shop she doesn’t have time for dating apps and finds shit like Tinder CORNY LOL. 

Meanwhile, you are trying your hardest not to stare at the way her arms are flexing or how her fingers are paying delicate attention to your bouquet, mentally laughing at the “FUCK YOU” on her knuckles, it contrasted her soft nature so much.

ೀ florist! Abby who slips in a little note into your tote back when you’re not looking, with her number on it, hoping that you would find it and call her soon, Which you do find when you are scrambling for your keys on your way back to the car. Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to give the overly, steaming attractive florist a call. 

ೀ florist! Abby when the two of you start dating, she would teach you how to make a bouquet, standing closely behind you – her body right up against your back as you feel her breath tickling your ear as she whispers to you what to do

“Atta girl, look at that my sweet girl – woah! watch your hand there’s a thorn baby.”

Will definitely put her hands over yours as she works with the knife to make sure there isn’t any thorns so you don’t prick yourself. 

ೀ florist! Abby fucking you in the flower shop, when the shop is closed. Having her head in between your thighs, as her jaw slacks – the sound of your juices sloshing against her mouth as she sends hums into your pussy making you let out low mewls. Bringing a hand up to cover your mouth but she slaps it away so that she can see you

“Don’t hide from me baby, I wanna see you…look at how beautiful you look whining for me doll”

ೀ florist! Abby who kept your lace underwear in her pocket after she fucked you in the floral shop keeping it for safe-keeping (pft…we all know what she is doing with that)

ೀ florist! Abby who shows you her small pocket-sized notebook full of different flowers and arrangement ideas she had. Even the sketches of a flower bouquet that she made inspired by you and all your favorite flowers.

ೀ florist! Abby definitely tucks flowers behind your ears, specifically a white or light-pink Carnation. Especially loves putting one behind your ear as she fucks you with her strap, missionary style so she can see your face – just loves your face honestly. Bending down to kiss your lips, her cheeks dusted red with the pressure she applies.

Tucking her head into your neck swiftly smelling the carnation that she put behind your ear driving her even further insane as she drills into you — makes her go faster.

ೀ When she starts teaching you more about flowers, Definitely uses sexual enforcement to get you to remember it. Will have you sat on her counter as she stands in between your legs – locking you in as she lunges two fingers into you, edging you and not letting you cum until you say the right name of the flower that she taught you. But you could hardly focus staring at her inked knuckles as they pump in and out of you which only makes you reach your climax even further. 

“You wanna come don’t you my sweet girl? I know you want to…just say the name– awh don’t whine at me…I know you know it dollface, I don’t buy that you don’t.”

Sometimes she’ll give you a hint if the flower starts with one of the letters on her knuckles she will stick the corresponding finger into you, working at getting you just about there as her finger curls into you. Your vision is blurry as you can hardly tell what the letter is, moaning out as you try to focus on the order of the letters on her knuckles to catch the hint.

“C’mon baby I’m giving you a hint…pay attention sweetheart– focus!”

ೀ florist! Abby when you get it wrong and she finally lets you come — is fake-mad at you, shoving the lettered finger down your throat as you gag on her fingers covered in your juices.

“Baby the hinted letter was C, and the other finger was U, flower: Curcuma. You’ll get it right next time right sweetheart? You won’t let mommy down hmm?”

ೀ florist! Abby is definitely a soft dom just saying… soft as hell, loves when you hold her – kiss her, and skin-to-skin contact is important as hell she just wants to feel you and loves when you baby her. 

ೀ Definitely keeps a Polaroid of you holding flowers in pink floral lingerie in her beige apron and another one of you in her wallet, that way she has you on her at all times (honestly probably touched herself to blow off some steam after a hard shift while looking at it)

ೀ Depending on how far the relationship goes, especially if y’all start talking marriage will get your favorite flower tatted and not tell you until you see a dainty tattoo of your favorite flower on her collarbone slightly above her heart as she is filling you up, you questioning her in between moans about it.

“Mmhm…fuck is that new? Shit..abbyplease – wait is that my favorite flower?” You ask, as she grinds into you – your finger dragging against the tattoo

“Yes baby, you’re all mine. Mine…mine…mine” As she pounds harder into to you each time she says mine. Obsessive, possessive + territorial, let’s talk about it 

ೀ florist! Abby is overall just a sweetheart who loves you so much and just wants you to be her pretty flower – her muse, you definitely inspire most of her bouquets and she is so happy you ran into her shop looking for flowers that day.

[vael-fire]

Who is Rook?

We have no Keep to keep our memories this time my friends, so I made a thing. Use it as you will, take pieces, use parts, do the whole damn thing, whatever. Thanks to @mageofquandrix for the backup on this!

Leaving the spoilery part beneath the cut.

Who is Rook?

Name:

Pronouns:

Race:

Faction:

Class:

Specialization:

Before The Veilguard

Where was Rook born? Who were their childhood family and friends? What did they spend their free time doing as a child? What did they want to be when they “grew up” if anything.

Where and how was Rook educated? What did they enjoy learning; what did they dislike learning? Who did they admire most? Who was an example of what not to do or be?

How did they experience gender as a young person? Did they grow up in an environment of strict gender roles and expectations or were they allowed to be themselves? 

What was their take on sexuality as a young person? Did they experiment with romance or find it entirely uninteresting?

What was their take on spirituality as a young person? Did they grow up around one particular religion and if so how did that affect their beliefs?

What childhood fear(s) did Rook carry with them into adulthood?

How did Rook become involved with their chosen faction? Who did they meet first, and how, and where, and why did they join up?

Was Rook interested in finding a life partner of some kind when they joined their faction? Why? Who were their best friends and how did they meet? Who were their rivals, who did they trust?

Did Rook have any scars or tattoos? What’s the story behind them?

Did Rook ever strongly identify with a particular nationality, city, race, creed, or religion? Is this something they explored on their own or a tradition that was passed down to them? Did this identity evolve as they grew into adulthood?

Lightning Round - PREGAME VERSION

Favorite scent:

Favorite food:

Favorite animal:

Favorite book or story:

Favorite drink:

Favorite item of clothing:

Favorite keepsake:

Favorite place:

Favorite person:

Favorite little treat:

During The Veilguard (HEAVY SPOILERS BENEATH THE CUT)

Act 1: Signs and Portents

What was Rook’s status with their own faction at the beginning of the game? Why were they recruited by Varric?

What did Rook think of Varric when they first met? Did Rook support Varric’s choice to confront Solas alone?

Did Rook take Neve or Harding with them when they went to interrupt the ritual themselves? Why?

How did Rook engage with stories of the elven gods at the beginning of the Veilguard? Were the familiar or strange? Was it disorienting to have them rewritten or did it make no real difference to them?

What was Rook’s instinctive reaction to having Solas in their head and dreams? How did Rook respond when Solas asked them why they should be the one to lead the Veilguard?

Did Rook think Neve was right about needing more investigation before acting or that Harding was right that there was no time to spare? What made them think that?

What did Rook decide to do with Mayor Julius of D’Meta’s crossing? Why?

How did Rook react to Harding’s new magic? Were they supportive or wary or a mix of both? 

How did Rook feel among the ancient elven magic and ruins of Arlathan? Did they find Bellara’s work disturbing or fascinating or something else?

How did Rook feel about working with a bunch of assassins, the Antivan Crows? Were they familiar with the organization, a Crow themselves, or something else? How did they feel about Lucanis, specifically about Lucanis and Spite?

How did Rook feel about the Shadow Dragons? Had they ever been to Minrathous before or just heard stories? How did Neve strike them at first?

What did Rook think of the Wardens when they met them? The First Warden? Antoine and Evka? Davrin (and his tits)? And of course, the MVP, Assan?

Did Rook choose to help Minrathous or Treviso? Why?

How did Rook feel after seeing what happened to the city they couldn’t save? Who did they talk to about it, if anyone, and how did they feel toward Neve and Lucanis in the aftermath?

Had Rook ever been to Rivain before? What were their impressions? Did they have any experience with Antaam or Qunari outside the Qun? What did they think of Taash and Shanthann?

What was Rook’s first impression of the Nevarran Necropolis? Were they interested, disturbed, or something else? What did they think of Emmrich and, most importantly, Manfred?

What did Rook think of the Inquisitor? Did they become personal friends or did they keep it professional? Who was the Inquisitor’s lover, if any, and did Rook have an opinion of that?

At the Siege of Weisshaupt, how did Rook deal with the First Warden and why?

Act 2: The Price of the Past

How did Rook react to the aftermath of Weisshaupt? Were they sad, angry, scared, all of the above, or something else? Did they blame themselves? Lucanis? The First Warden? Ghilan'nain? Who did they talk to about it, and did they show their true feelings to their companions?

Had Rook developed a romantic interest in one of their companions--or someone else!--by the time Weisshaupt fell? If so, were they eager to explore it or afraid to? Why?

Who were Rook’s closest companions, and what did they like about them? Who irritated Rook, if anyone, and how?

How did Rook respond to Davrin and Lucanis’s animosity finally boiling over? Were they sympathetic to one or the other or to both?

When Elgar’nan took the Dalish prisoners to use as sacrifices, what was Rook’s first reaction? Were they resolved, raging, sad, or some combination? Did they talk to any of their companions about it?

What was Rook’s reaction to The Butcher’s proposition to them in Treviso? Did they respect it, think it was bonkers, or something else? Did they discuss it with any of their companions after the fact?

Did Rook express concerns about Illario’s behavior to Lucanis? Did Rook encourage him to punish or to forgive Illario? Did Rook encourage Lucanis to work with Spite to save Catarina or to punish Illario? What were Rook’s impressions of Catarina both before and after her kidnapping? How did Rook feel about Lucanis becoming First Talon?

Did Rook support Bellara in her desire to save Cyrian or did they encourage her to be more forceful in stopping him immediately? Did they encourage her to keep the Nadas Dirthalen or to destroy it?

Did Rook encourage the alliance with the Threads in Dock Town? Did they encourage Neve to bring Dock Town hope or to become a darker protector-figure?

What was Rook’s reaction to the revelations about the Titans and the residual anger their downfall and exploitation at the hands of the Evanuris  left behind? Did it change how they felt about Harding’s new powers, and if so, how? Did they encourage Harding to embrace the Titan’s anger or to remember their compassionate side?

How did Rook encourage Davrin to train and interact with Assan? Did they suggest discipline or kindness or some mixture of both? What were Rook’s feelings on seeing the twisted recreation of Weisshaupt, The Profane City? How did the blighted First Warden react to seeing Rook again there? Did Rook decide the griffons should go to the Anderfels with the Wardens or stay in Arlathan as protectors of nature?

What did Rook think of Emmrich’s confession that he wanted to attain lichdom? Did their views on necromancy change as they got to know Emmrich and the Mourn Watch better? Did they encourage Emmrich to attain lichdom or to revive Manfred?

How did Taash’s journey to finding themselves strike Rook? What did Rook think of Shathann once they got to know her better? Did that change after her death? Did Rook encourage Taash to embrace their Rivaini culture or to fall back on the strength of their mother’s teachings about the Qun?

(If Rook didn’t romance Harding or Taash:) Did Rook encourage Taash to get a gift to express interest in Harding? What was it and why? How did they feel about that relationship going forward?

(If Rook didn’t romance Never or Lucanis:) How did Rook feel about Neve and Lucanis’s Romance? Did they encourage it?

(If Rook didn’t romance Emmrich:) Did Rook encourage Emmrich to take Strife to the caves or the forest on a date? How did they feel about that relationship going forward?

How did Rook deal with the friction between Taash and Emmrich? Did they encourage them to find common ground or to talk about other things? How did they feel about that relationship going forward?

Did Rook romance any of their companions after all? What was that like for them, and how did it happen? Did the other companions have an opinion?

Who did Rook feel closest to by the time they were making plans with the Inquisitor to stop the gods’ ritual at the eclipse?

Did Rook choose Davrin or Harding to lead a second team at Tearstone Island? Why? How did they feel in the aftermath of Tearstone Island about that choice? How did they honor their fallen teammate later?

Did Rook choose Neve or Bellara to take down the wards at Tearstone Island? Why? Did they regret their choice? How did they come to terms with it after?

How did Rook deal with learning they’d been magically gaslit into thinking Varric was alive all this time??????

Did Rook find the Mysterious Circles?

Did Rook find all of Solas’s regrets after the Inquisitor gave them the first? What were their reactions to the revelations about:

The Golden City/The Black City and The Chantry’s doctrine being false

Mythal convincing Solas to take a mortal form

Solas being willing to sacrifice his followers for his end goals

Ancient elves originating as spirits who took mortal form

The elves -- particularly Solas and Mythal -- killing and exploiting the Titans to win the war against them

The blight being the Titan’s lost, angry dreams

Solas regaining his power pre-Inquisition by killing Mythal’s current host

Bonus Round: Were Solas and Mythal doing it?

Mythal's essence. How did they get it from her? Was it a fight or a matter of discussion? How did they feel, meeting her?

Act 3: The Wrath of Ages

Were all Rook’s allied factions at maximum strength when they launched their attack on Elgar’nan? Which ones weren’t, and why? Did Rook favor any of them? Their own? Someone else’s?

Who did Rook choose to support the Veil Jumpers in the final battle dealing with magical wards or protecting others?

Who did Rook choose to support the Crows and the Lords of Fortune in the final battle fighting mages or attacking by surprise?

Who did Rook choose to support the Wardens and the Mourn Watch in the final battle fighting massive enemies and constructs?

Who did Rook choose to take with them for the final battle against Elgar’nan and why?

Did Rook plan to trick Solas with the fake dagger or did they think they better not risk it?

Did Morrigan give you Felassen’s Rune? How did Rook use it?

Did Rook have a lover to talk with before the final battle? How did they feel in that moment?

After defeating Elgar’nan, how did Rook deal with Solas and the veil? Was it different than they had planned? If so, why and how?

What did Rook do on the day after saving the world?

Lightning Round - AFTERMATH VERSION

Favorite scent:

Favorite food:

Favorite animal:

Favorite book or story:

Favorite drink:

Favorite item of clothing:

Favorite keepsake:

Favorite place:

Favorite person:

Favorite little treat:

[fullfriendnerdclutch]

Bunch of Quickies

Caption #2: First Job out of Uni

My brain fired off some initial ideas upon seeing these pics, but I just cannot extend it, so here's a bunch of short captions that now have the chance to be unearthed from the depth of my draft

Caption #1: Morning

"Hey there sleepyhead, how's your sleep?" said the attractive guy sitting on top of the marble countertop sipping his morning coffee to the drowsy Gus

"Another form already, huh? What are you up to this morning looking like that?"

"Nothing, to be honest. Just want to look good and fresh, plus, it's nice to be fucking confident because you know you're one hot piece of shit,"

"Well, that's a spot on assessment about that dude. He jogged with the dog again this morning?"

"Different dog, but still shirtless as usual. Added this tattoo to his forearm, just copied it and heck it looks nice, guy really knows his body,"

"Ah, okay, so he's fucking different girl already now,"

"Yeah, but he can fuck a guy if he wants to,"

"Lee, calm the fuck down. This is still fucking early,"

"Well, for you, but for Wade here, it's quite late already. He already finished his running, eating his breakfast and about to hop into his shower. But the girlfriend is one kinky fucker, wanted to taste Wade's musty sweaty cock. Again, Wade prefers boys this time,"

"Oh come on, go clean yourself, will ya, let me have my morning,"

Wade/Lee just smirked and slapped his boyfriend's ass as he walked away to leave Gus to have his morning routine. After reading some news online and drinking his coffee, Gus walked back to his room to head to the bathroom as he's about to take a dump and clean himself. Then, walked another guy out from the bathroom, his expression tense and definitely hungry

"Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my house?"

Gus just sighed, Lee really love his roleplay.....

"Everyone will go nuts if I walk in like this," said Barry to the reflection of this random old DILF in the mirror, imagining the loud, borderline animalistic grunt and holler from the packed crowd of the Sticky Situation. Yeah, that's the name of the gay nightclub where Barry frequently danced and partied with his friends. But this will be a new experience for the 22 years old freshgraduate, his first job experience after uni turned out to be something beyond his wildest imaginations, all thanks to his hips that caught the attention of the nightclub manager, who found himself in sticky situation with his boyfriend of 3 years, Daniel. Reluctant to let Daniel go, and swayed by Barry's energetic presence on the dance floor, he concocted a plan to get the naive and horny freshgrad a chance for an upgrade of a lifetime, and of course Barry took that offer. Now, finger cross Barry will decide to stay permanently inside Daniel, that will make things much more easier so he doesn't need to find the occupant of his boyfriend-turned-bodysuit every few months or so.

Caption #3: Recluse Neighbor

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Ck, just how I thought. Well, it doesn't matter, in a matter of seconds, I'm about to be you, Mr. Bay,"

And just like that, the mostly reserved and barely sociable ginger lunged to get himself inside the body of his own neighbor that barely recognized him. Mr. Bay might not be rich or anything seeing that he basically lived in the same building as him, but everything beats living with his deadbeat alcoholic father and that devious cunt he's forced to call mom

Caption #4: Setting Things Right

I suggested them about the takeover ever since Mario shown me how to swap bodies with him by chugging those pills he stashed in his bedside counter. Maybe he trusted me or maybe he was just naive, but I still have no idea why Mario would willingly share such out-of-this-world possibility to me, a mere random hookup of his, as if everyone are bunch of saints that wouldn't take an opportunity to create a new life for themselves? During our third swap, I fucked him so hard using his own body, he started weeping as my hole never really found itself in such distressing lustful pounding. In his weakened state, face & body bruised and stamina drained from the whole mess, I decided to violate our terms & conditions, flipping him over to then proceed to facefuck him like there's no tomorrow. You should have seen his panicked stare and the way he tried to push me off as he realized what I was about to do, but as soon as the copious spunk hit his throat, the resistance ended and his eyes turned hazy as the cum sealed his fate to remain in my body while I took his body as my permanent residence, the swap somehow irreversible if someone came in the other's mouth or practically anywhere else except asshole, possibly indicating that the pills should not be tainted with cum when swallowed within specific time window.

The almost same case went on with Isaiah and Darnell, two of Mario's closest friend and frequent fuckbuddies, that found themselves now locked for good inside Leon, my Salvadoran best friend and Rei, my Japanese-American roommate. Both Isaiah and Darnell also have the same kink of getting fucked by smaller dudes, and when I explained to both big bottoms that the swapping pills would have extra effect if swallowed with cum for heightened senses (I advertised it as popper in pills form), they took Leon's and Rei's cum like some good submissive slut, inadvertently sealing their own fate to be trapped in the body that now preferably more fitting to their sexual desires. Talk about setting things right, because all 3 of us wanted to be older and stronger ever since we connected in college a couple years ago and these 3 daddies just wanted to waste their big bodies to bottom

Caption #5: Unexpected Swap

Frankie was sobbing in his bedroom after getting locked by his evil stepfather Darius after he found Frankie jerking off in front of his laptop to a shirtless guy in the other side of the call. To make things worse, Darius found his socks right next to Frankie's body, his eyes filled with hatred and disgust as he punished the 19 years old boy he viewed as mere burden and now, shame, to his name.

"You fucking faggot, I know you're just some up to no good failure, have some shame will ya? Worthless piece of faggot shit! Sniffing my socks too, getting off on my odor? God, you are disgusting!" Darius said, one of his rant in between the beatings

Frankie cried himself to sleep, both for the physical pain inflicted by his father that beat the shit out of him and also the mental anguish of thinking what would happen next after Darius arrived back. Of course he would never expect to found himself suddenly standing up in the middle of the gym, exasperated from the intense workout he just went through

Workout? Wha--- his thoughts came to a halt as everything started to get its footings. He's in the middle of the gym, feeling pumped, and the shirt.....this is unmistakably one of the shirts he usually found in the laundry room.....Darius shirt

As he looked down and then flexed his biceps to get a good look over his physique, he also started to feel the snaking blood rush to the monster he called his own now, the humungous cock attached to Darius's body. Oh he's about to have fun getting off directly from the source

[onlinedolly]

A BOXER AND AN ARTIST

(title subject to change)

au where vi is a boxer and reader is an artist with a boyfriend

no cws i don’t think? maybe a little violence but mostly fluff/build up!

an: as always if you are under 18 please do not interact with my content or my account! this is loosely proof read as i have covid and im dying so bare with me. this will be multiple parts i would like so yay!

chapter one: a fight

this wasn’t your scene.

the room was loud, crowded with drunk people, as your friend drug you up to the front to get a good spot. you aren’t really sure how you ended up here. a hasty discussion about how you need to get out more and now you were on a bad side of town with your friend promising you you’ll have a good time.

“c’mon just give it a shot,” she whines, pulling at your arm.

“fighting? i dunno, i’m kind of ready to go.” you speak meekly, leaning into her to get away from the drunk couple next to you.

“it’s not like anyone gets really hurt,” she rolls her eyes, pulling you forward so your front and center, “ain’t all this shit fake anyway?”

you shrug, not really knowing the answer, as you take a look around. you stood up high, overlooking a large circular pit that sat empty for now. you felt nervous, a pit in the back of your throat you couldn’t quite swallow down. you should be at home studying, working on a painting, anything. this wasn’t your scene, you didn’t go out, and certainly not to places like this. what would your boyfriend think?

the crowd begins cheering loudly, you cover your ears to shield yourself from their screams as you watch the fighters come out. on one end is a large man with tattoos covering a majority of his body. he was built and tall and the thought of whoever had to fight him made you shake nervously. you look to the other end a see a woman. a bit bewildered at the sight, you lean forward, placing your hands against the edge of the pit as you look at her. her hair was slick black with red tips, tattoos covering the expanse of her back, and all you could wonder is how in the world she was going to beat this guy?

“i don’t feel comfortable watching this,” you mumble to your friend, she’s buzzing at the sight, all adrenaline as she watches the scene unfold.

“i told you it’s fake.” she rolls her eyes, leaning into you.

“doesn’t look fake.” you mumble again, crossing your arms over your chest.

-

vi wasn’t nervous, never been the type to be that. she was all confidence and cocky as she stepped into the ring. she overlooked the man and smirked, the same man she’d beat up in prison. this would be a breeze.

vi had a lot of anger sitting deep inside her chest, she could feel it bubbling up as she thinks of cait as she thinks of powder. and she’s ready to fight. she looks around the crowd, like she always does, and she thinks maybe she’s subconsciously looking for cait or for her sister. she doesn’t spot them in the crowd as she scans it, a bunch of faces blur together as they scream and chant different names. of course they wouldn’t be here, she thought. why would they?

vi cracks her knuckles as she gives the crowd one more look over, and that’s when she notices *you.* you looked timid and scared and she wondered if this was a place for you at all. you were dressed in a pretty pink outfit, leaned against the pit with fear radiating from you as she furrowed her brows in confusion. she was used to seeing all kind of people here, but those people were usually tough, covered in tattoos and piercings and holding drinks in their hand that had no doubt already worked their way into their system. but you looked sober and doe eyed as you watched the scene unfold in front of you and she couldn’t help but think about how your friend more then likely dragged you here. this didn’t look like your scene, you were clean cut, looked like you came from the good side of town as she shook her head and laughed a bit.

the bell goes off as the crowd cheers and vi is immediately zoned in, she can feel your eyes on her as she approaches the large man in front of her.

-

oh my god.

she was going to fight this man.

you were shaking at this point, as your friend yanks on your arm in excitement, you watch the woman walk up towards the man cocky as ever. and you can’t even blink before she’s laying a blow against his cheek sending him fumbling back. you gasp at the sudden blow, cheers fill the air as you stumble around in the crowd. you watch as she punches again, and again, and again not even letting the guy come close to getting a blow in. but finally he does, and you grimace as you swear you hear cracking echo against the pit walls.

“i thought you said this was fake,” you gasp out in horror, watching the scene unfold before you.

“thought it was.” your friend shrugs, watching in excitement.

-

vi wasn’t one to back down after one hit, not when she was so close to winning, she lands a blow into the guys gut relishing in the way he stumbles back before falling. all of her anger, against cait, against powder, bubbles to the surface as she fights. each blow full of suppressed anger and pure aggression and she wonders for a second if you’re still watching. all doe eyed and scared, she didn’t know why she was thinking that as her arm is raised in the air, claiming another victory under her belt.

-

you stare in disbelief at the fact that she just *won.* blinking a couple times before your friend is pulling at your arm again, rambling on about being quick so you can meet the winner.

“i don’t wanna do that, i wanna leave.” you pull back, resisting her tugs. but you had learned a long time ago how you’re friend was good about getting her way, so you don’t put up too much resistance as you follow her with an eye roll.

she drags you until your running down stairs, a group of girls also in tow behind you, fangirling over the woman who won. the woman who’s name was vi. vi? you pondered, could that be short for something? vivian? violet?

you didn’t have much time to think on that as your friend leads you through a set of grimy double doors, the girls behind you pushing you through until you all gathered at a entryway leading into what you assumed was the pit.

“i don’t think this a good idea,” you whispered, pulling on your friends sleeve, “these people are scary.” you say low enough that the group of girls behind you can’t hear.

“oh live a little, yeah? at least stay here so i can see her walk out.” she wraps an arm around you, locking you in place and you just stay there, waiting. it took about ten minutes before you saw people emerge from the entry way.

a large man first, all scruffy and built with a beard and a name tag that read “vander.” then next was *her*, same slick black hair and tattoos only now paired with a busted nose and bandages around her chest soaked in blood you could only presume wasn’t hers. she smirked at the crowd, and you could see this probably wasn’t anything new, as she chatted with a couple of girls like she knew them.

“you’re new.” she startled you as she spoke, eyes trained on you, your height making it so she had to angle herself down, “both of you.”

she kept looking at you as she addressed both of you standing there, your friend (oblivious as always) begins rattling off her name and how great vi did at the fight, and all vi could do was stare at you. she looked at you in a way that made you nervous, you shifted your weight between your feet.

“and what’s your name, cupcake?” she speaks out, looking you up and down.

you answer back shyly, feeling intimidated under her gaze.

“that’s cute.” she speaks out, placing a hand on her hip as she ignores the other group of girls as they pine for attention. you weren’t really sure why she was so locked in on you, never letting her eyes advert once and she keeps that same shit eating smirk plastered across her face. “ain’t see you here before, cupcake.”

“i dragged her out!” your friend interjects, squeezing you tightly into her side with her arm wrapped around you. “gotta get this one outta the house or away from the boyfriend once in a while, yknow?”

“boyfriend?” vi quips her eyebrow at that, looking at expectantly.

this all felt too much, you could’ve spent your night how you preferred it — alone. maybe painting, or studying, or video calling your boyfriend. not here on the wrong side of town talking to a woman who could kill you if she really tried. you nod your head, shyly again.

“and where is he tonight?” she spoke cockily, leaning forward a bit and it really put your height difference in perspective as you had to lean back to keep eye contact with her.

“oh he’s out of the country, big fancy art school out east.” your friend answers for you, matter of factly. your friend was more interested in talk to vi, so why couldn’t she redirect her attention to her? away from you? this all felt suffocating.

“art school, huh?” she laughed at that, and you didn’t know whether or not to feel offended. “how bout you? you an artist?”

“yeah.” you spoke out softly.

“interesting. well, i gotta go. but i’ll see you around cupcake, kay?” she leans up the ruffle your hair and you almost gasp at the contact, her hand is rough and the movement is hard as she messes your hair up. you can feel the women behind you seethe in jealously as vi walks away and you just remain there stunned at the conversation.

would you ever see her again? you really hoped you didn’t.

[idyllicidols]

Cheat Day.

Another request. I forgot if the person wanted to stay anonymous so I'll leave them out to be safe. Something different with it being third person, but it felt needed with the content.

TW: gangbang

***

Wonyoung was always expected to be perfect. Her days were filled with endless rehearsals, rigorous diets, and sleepless nights. She yearned for a life of freedom, where she could make mistakes and be herself. Her long awaited day off was under commencement–and mistakes were definitely going to be made.

Three of her most dedicated fans, handpicked by the dollesque idol herself, received a private DM from an unknown account with a time and address. They were apprehensive about the message, but the never before seen photos piqued their curiosity.

The room was dimly lit, the only sound being the soft hum of the city outside. Wonyoung, clad in a silk robe, stood before them, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. She took mental notes on each one as they introduced themselves.

"Donghyun." She recognized him as a man who had been to nearly every concert and fan meet–his loud screams often heard over all the other fan chants. The messy haired boyish man looked like he just got off work. A disheveled suit with his tie loosely knit. Now that he was in such a private setting, he looked at her with an innocent admiration.

"Minsoo." The hottest of the bunch. His right arm covered in tattoos, his hair perfectly sculpted, but not greasy. He gazed upon her as if he already knew what she had planned. If the other two failed, she could depend on him for a good time.

"Junho." A recognized community member. Almost her whole fandom and group members knew of him. Her most dedicated fan. At every event, making sure to capture her in the perfect light. His fancams were the most popular, some even doing better than official recordings. A casual friendship had grown, and this was her way of showing her appreciation.

Her voice was steady and confident as she spoke, "Tonight, I'm not an idol. I'm not a performer. I'm yours, to do with as you please."

Junho and Donghyun exchanged astonished glances, their minds racing with the implications of her statement. They couldn't believe the woman they had idolized for so long would offer herself so freely. But Minsoo smirked expectedly.

Junho spoke up, "Wonyoung, we can't take advantage of you like this. You're an idol, and we're just fans."

Wonyoung's expression turned determined. "You can't deny me this. I've been living this life..always holding back, always being the perfect idol. Tonight, I want to be something else."

Donghyun joined in, "But you could ruin your reputation."

Wonyoung's voice hardened, "I don't care about my reputation. I want this. I want to be used, to be fucked."

She looked to Minsoo, her eyes pleading. She was right, she knew she could depend on him to get things rolling.

"If you're sure, Wonyoung, we can't deny you anything."

With a sultry smile, Wonyoung nodded, "I'm sure."

Minsoo undressed her slowly, untying the knot to her robe. She let it fall off her shoulders, the light from the window acted as a spotlight to her perfectly slender naked body. She was a tiny, delicate thing, but one with fire burning within her. The other two watched in awe as his hands roamed her body while his tongue explored her mouth.

He easily lifted her up and tossed her on the bed, his kisses trailed down from one pair of lips to her other. His hands were rough, their movements urgent and demanding.

"You cucks going to just watch or join in?" Minsoo aggressively berated the other two men into action.

Donghyun was the next to act, seizing this rare opportunity, kissing and touching wherever he pleased. Wonyoung moaned in pleasure as the two men grasped at her body. But she couldn't help but feel bad for Junho.

"Join us sweetie…" She called out to him. "... You can record this too if you like, just make sure you keep it to yourself…" flashing a sly smile.

That was all it took. Junho set up his camera, then joined in on the fun. He knew he would never get a chance like this again, and wasn't going to miss out.

Without another word, the three men moved in unison, Minsoo between her legs, Donghyun and Junho each taking one of her breasts in their hands and began to fondle them gently. Their thumbs brushed over her already sensitive nipples, sending shivers down her spine.

"Oh, god," she gasped, her head falling back as she felt a sudden rush of pleasure wash over her.

"Is that good, baby?" Junho asked, his voice filled with concern and desire.

She nodded, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. "Yes, it's so good."

As the men continued to pleasure her breasts, their hands moved in a rhythmic pattern that had her on the edge of ecstasy. Minsoo was gifted at his craft, his tongue danced against her wet folds.

"Oh, God," she cried out, her body trembling with pleasure.

His tongue moved in slow, deliberate circles, the pressure building with each pass. Wonyoung's breath caught in her throat as she felt the pleasure growing, spreading throughout her body until she was sure she couldn't take any more.

And then, suddenly, the pressure was gone, and she was left feeling empty and wanting.

"Please," she begged, her voice pleading. "I need more."

Minsoo smirked, knowing he had Wonyoung right where he wanted. He spread her legs wider, revealing her sensitive, throbbing clit to his waiting mouth.

"Oh, fuck," she gasped, her hands clawed at the sheets as pleasure washed over her once more.

Minsoo began to suck on her clit, his tongue moving in rhythmic, deliberate motions that had her body convulsing in pleasure. Then the final nail in the coffin, his middle and ring fingers dug into her wet quivering pussy. Squelching sounds echoed out with his fingertips constantly brushing her g-spot.

"You're gonna make me cum!" she screamed out, her voice strained and desperate.

Her body tensed; involuntarily trying to fight off the pressure that was overwhelming her system. But the other two held her down as they continued to explore her body. The pressure built in her stomach had nowhere else to go, a stream of sticky clear fluid shot out of her, her strongest orgasm in months taking over.

"Oh, god," she gasped, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own pleasure. "It feels so good."

An orgasm that intense should've left her helpless, but this was her only night of escape. Her animalistic desires insatiable, she rose from the sheets, her thin body covered in sweat.

"I'm gonna ride your fucking cock."

Wonyoung demanded as she pushed Junho on his back. He watched as the idol he's fantasized about so many times slowly lowered her mess of pussy onto his cock. It was better than he could ever dream, so tight and so warm, he never could have imagined how good she felt.

"You're so tight." Junho cried out.

He had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. But it got even better, she planted her feet and started bouncing up and down. Her sopping wet pussy glided easily-massaging his shaft with her moist caverns. She screamed in ecstasy, the first real cock inside of her in months felt better than any toy–it was a living thing, with its heat radiating inside of her.

It was hard to know who was having a better time - Wonyoung finally letting loose or Junho feeling the tight walls of his dream girl squeezing his cock. She was lost in ecstasy, the feelings of hands on her body almost forgettable.

Minsoo was there to give her a stark reminder. Wonyoung gasped when a strong force pushed her forward, making her turn around in surprise. Then she felt something hard pressed against her asshole, the tight ring on her virgin hole clenched in resistance.

"What are you – AH!" Wonyoung cried out before she could finish her question. A predictable result. There were three men and she had an accompanying hole for each. But what she didn't expect was for it to happen right off the bat. No preparation; no fingers or toys - just Minsoo's hard, massive cock breaking past her defenses in one fell swoop. Drool started leaking from her mouth, the intense feeling of getting fucked from both ends beyond her wildest dreams. Cries of pain filled the room, Wonyoung stretched out further than she ever thought possible. You would think she begged for them to stop, that the pain was too much to bear...

"Fuck me harder!" She screamed out, the pain of being fully engulfed by cock reminding her that she was alive–washing away months of the stressful idol life.

It was a sight to behold, Minsoo aggressively fucked the blabbering idol. His hands gripped her hips, holding her in place as he drove into her with relentless force. It was a stark contrast to Junho, feebly thrusting upwards trying to keep pace. Wonyoung moaned, her head flailing as she felt her insides being stretched and filled. But soon they got in sync, fucking and stretching out Wonyoung's body at perfect intervals.

"Is this what you want, you filthy whore?" Minsoo growled in her ear, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine.

"Yes," she gasped, "Fuck me."

"Hey Donghyun, why don't you keep her quiet before the neighbors complain."

Donghyun was like a perfect little pet, listening to everything anyone told him. As he stood up and pressed his cock against her lips there was no hesitation. Wonyoung opened up her lips and sucked like it was a popsicle. Now she was truly filled, a cock in each orifice, her body being used for greedy desires. It was only right, she worked so hard to stay fit, it would be a shame to keep it hidden away and locked up.

Donghyun was perfectly content standing there while she sucked and licked. Wonyoung however was not, grabbing the back of his thighs and taking him deep in her throat–a jolt of pleasure blasting through him every time she let a muffled moan vibrate against his cock. Actions spoke louder than words, her desires clearly obvious. His hands tangled in her long hair, thrusting his hips, fucking her face with the intensity she craved.

As the men continued their relentless onslaught, Wonyoung felt her body being torn apart, her mind filled with pleasure and pain. She could feel the cocks pounding into her, stretching her, filling her completely. Her moans and cries filled the room, echoing off the walls as the men continued to use her.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum!"

Wonyoung was in no place to protest, a cock in her throat keeping her from replying. Nor did she want to, wanting nothing more than the feeling of hot cum filling her up.

"That's it," Minsoo grunted, "Take it all."

Minsoo was the first to concede–a thick stream of hot cum painting her insides. He slid out from behind her, her gaping ass leaking down to the sheets. He grabbed Donghyun, pulling him away. Wounyoung heaved in relief, finally able to breathe without a cock pounding her throat.

"Clean up my mess." Minsoo demanded. Wounyoung's relief was short-lived–opening up her mouth, happily sucking the cock that just took her anal virginity. Donghyun stared at her asshole with intrigue, kneeling down behind her. She smiled in response, feeling him pressed against her puckered hole. While her mouth was amazing, Donghyun longed to fuck something much tighter, and there was nothing tighter than Wounyoung's ass.

Junho had surprising stamina, his fingers biting into her sensitive flesh as he pinched and twisted her nipples. Wonyoung writhed above him, her body on fire with pain and pleasure. She could feel her own orgasm building, the pressure in her pussy and ass growing unbearable.

"I'm going to cum," she gasped, "Oh, God, I'm going to...ahhh!"

Her body trembled as the orgasm ripped through her, her muscles contracting as she was filled to the brim. That set off a chain sequence–her contracting body milking every shaft inside of her. Luckily for her, all the fans were just as insatiable as she was–knowing this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

She was tossed around like a ragdoll, her tiny body fucked in every position possible, her tight holes nothing but a dumping ground for cum. They were like a well oiled machine, switching positions and holes, making sure that she always experienced something new. The only time one of her holes wasn't being fucked was when they needed to recover. Donghyun and Junho grew bolder as the night went on, fucking her with a ferocity that almost matched Minsoo.

The men continued their assault, their grunts and groans filling the air as they emptied themselves into her. Wonyoung's cries echoed in the room, a plethora of hands and tongues covering every inch of skin–three cocks stuffed in her holes, giving her everything she could ever ask for. She was reduced to nothing more than a living, breathing, screaming orgasm.

The sun was starting to rise, and the men pulled out, their spent cocks dripping with cum. They stepped back, leaving Wonyoung sprawled on the bed, her body covered in sweat, her mouth, pussy, and asshole leaking with cum.

Donghyun was the first to leave, he had to return to work within the hour. Junho turned sheepishly shy, embarrassed at how he lost control fucking his bias, collecting his camera. She smiled at him knowing he would forever cherish that footage. Donghyun and Junho bowed when they left. Forever grateful for this experience their faces flushed with pleasure, their hearts filled with gratitude. They had experienced something that most could only dream of.

Minsoo stuck behind, his fingers buried inside Wonyoung until she forced him to leave. She thanked him for starting things right, pulling him in for one final kiss before he left.

Wonyoung laid there, panting and trembling, her body sore and aching. Forget dance practice, she would be lucky if she was even able to walk. But as she stared up at the ceiling, she couldn't help but smile - she had found a release she had been longing for, a release that would fuel her performances, her passion, and her life. She couldn't wait for her next day off.