Piercings and Ink

[est. 12/25/2019] Follows back from kingofspadesandice Indie Selective Fandomless OC multimuse blog for the son of Solanine (kingofspadesqueenofhearts) and his family, the Queerkats, created by Cavan. Mun is 25+. NSFW will be present and untagged. -MULTIVERSE-MULTISHIP-MULTIMUSE- Please read rules and bios before interacting. For mobile tags are #mobile rules and #character profile

[theunderratedlostyouth]

lokisfeverdream​:

He was shocked when the other stood up to their full height.

Or lack there of.

There was something about this person that seemed so much larger than his five and a half foot height.  It caused Muninn to tilt his head to the side in confusion.  In his head, his sister, Hela, was laughing.

After all, Muninn stood at a neat six feet.  

He didn’t comment on the height.

“I was looking to get an intricate back piece of Yggdrasil.  The World Tree or Norse Mythology.  Something like knot work, if that makes sense.”

Scratching the back of his head, he blushed.

“And no one must know.  My father would have frowned at such a thing.  May his soul rest in Valhalla.  Though…he didn’t die in combat so perhaps it’s in Hel.”

He frowned at the thought before shaking his head before holding out his hand.

“I am Muninn Odinson, Prince of New Asgard.”

He nodded, “I think I can work with that, and I can try my best to create a piece for you,” he added, “It’s all good i don’t share pictures of my work unless the client is fine with it.” he promised flipping to a page that had a unique design of the world tree. “How about something like this? I can cover your whole back if you like.”

Ryan’s lips twitched upwards in amusement, “If your dad’s not around to be pissed, then why hide it? It’s your life afterall. Not his.” he pointed out boldly.

[lokisfeverdream]

Canvass

@theunderratedlostyouth

Earth was new to Muninn.

And while he had a chance to play Prince in New Asgard, he had chosen the city as his home.  There were so many strange things, and he had been given a home at the Avenger’s compound.  Tony Stark had taken him under wing so that he could learn about the world, and be trained in his magics so that he could protect himself.

He had a job working for Tony, which granted him money.

The twenty five year old prince was currently looking to spend the money he had.  He had no overhead after all.  His lodgings and food were taken care of by Tony.  The money was for the express purpose of fun.

He found himself looking into a tattoo parlor.

There were such pretty pieces hanging in display.

He gently touched the glass of the window as he looked in, his heart pounding, his tongue dry as he felt a heavy need to have a piece etched into his skin.

Opening the door, he stepped inside, looking around for someone who might be able to help him.

“Excuse me.  I would like to schedule a consultation.”

[theunderratedlostyouth]

Ryan looked up from his sketch book and smiled, “I can help you right now if you like. I specialize in symmetrical designs and older more ornate pieces.” he added with a soft noise, moving to stand, only a little over five and a half feet. “What are you looking to get done?” he asked looking him over, not at all fazed that he looked similar to his boss. “I can show you examples of my work, Justin’s, or Erik’s as well. Leta does piercings, but we all have our things we do best.”

He hummed and pulled out a laminated sketchbook of his designs, “These are mine.”

[theunderratedlostyouth]

Open to: Anyone

“Watch your tongue and what you say to her, I have no problem ripping it out of your mouth if you’re going to insult her.” Erik growled protectively beside his best friend.

[theunderratedlostyouth]

Open to: Anyone

“How long should i wait before i pull my friend off that poor motherfucker for hitting him after he called him a bastard? My friend wasn’t wrong. A bastard is the only thing that man is considering he tried to take pictures up your skirt.” she said pointing out the small irishman wailing on the redneck.

[theunderratedlostyouth]

Open to: Anyone

“You know what? You hit like a kitten. If you’re going to come at me to punch me, put your fucking back into it, princess!” He taunted with a smirk, not caring that his cheek was stinging as he straightened up to step closer as he thrust his hand out to land a hard hit in return.

Leta wasn’t the only fighter when it came down to it.

[theunderratedlostyouth]

I finally did some art of Erik as a warm up, I really love how he turned out. I am taking commissions.

[theunderratedlostyouth]

Been a While... -closed starter-

@torturedrighteous​

He was nervous about this to begin with, but as he stood quietly at the concert, fiddling with his vape, both fear and excitement twisted in his stomach. He could hear Johnny inside, hands shaking as he pushed into the intimate little venue, knowing it would be packed. He slid his vape away, slipping through the crowd slow and careful, not looking up at the stage yet. 

When the music seemed to quiet down, he looked up and almost immediately felt a shiver run down his spine as he looked almost directly into the blue eyes that haunted him when he closed his eyes. He hadn’t realized how close he was to the stage, it seemed like he was only getting closer until he realized he was still... inching closer, though the look on Johnny’s face seemed to be more confused than anything-

Then Erik tripped, almost falling flat on his face, but steadied himself, pausing as his hands shook as the noise of the crowd settled in, making his whole body seize into anxiety and overstimulation, flexing his fingers as he tried to stim, just enough to settle down to support Johnny a bit longer.

But too much was too much. 

He slipped towards the edge, trying to find an exit.

[theunderratedlostyouth]

Im really not on here much anymore and honestly i’m not sure if im going to come back to this blog as much as i love it.

[theunderratedlostyouth]

R you still friends with Leith? He changed Anatolie and I thought you created the character with him.

I created leta on my own, for starters. Leta was originally created to be a friend to erik and possibly a partner in the future. It's none of anyone's business except our own.

[theunderratedlostyouth]

{text: to Erik🖤🌻} Babyboy...I miss you, can we video chat..? I’m sick of listening to my band mate snoring so loudly and we have a few hours til we arrive at our next stop..and I just wanna hear your voice..

{text: to Erik🖤🌻} fuck...i miss you so much...just 10 more days and i’m home!

-Angel

[text: to Angel] I miss you so much.... absolutely let me turn on some lights!

It wasn't long before he called Angel hugging one of his stuffies and smiling sweetly at him longingly.

[theunderratedlostyouth]

foretoldchaos​:

as his new pet leaves the room to clean himself up - anatolie gets lost in the painting he’s working on. so focused on it is he, that leo’s return goes without notice. and hours pass - the moon finishing her cycle through the heavens and the sun beginning to shine through the window - before he even remembers the other’s presence. there’s a vague remembrance of a vision on the edges of anatolie’s mind - almost like a word stuck on the tip of your tongue that you just quite can’t say no matter how hard you struggle. something about the boy - if  this is his boy. and so tolie turns from where he sits and proceeds to just stare at leo without speaking.

he stares for a long time before the short flashes of skirts tangle themselves up in his mind. they come and they go so fleetingly. the artist wonders for a moment if he should buy leo dresses. or perhaps he’s confusing lives. it’s hard to tell sometimes. he scrubs at his face, trying to rub the tired from his eyes but all he succeeds in doing is wiping paint all over his skin. after a long moment, anatolie finally takes in just how leo really looks. like he’s been hurting for food and shelter for a while. his luck was truly shit to end himself up here with the cult.

“the sun has risen. we’ll talk to the tailor about clothing. he’ll need to take your measurements.” tolie stands, brushes the remaining paint from his hands onto his pants. “do you -” he pauses, tilts his head as if he’s in deep thought. “want skirts?” he wonders if those visions are for here or for another life. another person? he doesn’t know. and it wasn’t like the cult outwardly cared about the opinions of others so much that they would mind if he wanted to wear more feminine clothing. he was tolie’s pet therefore tolie could dress him however he pleased.

Leo was exhausted, sleeping long and deep, soft sighs leaving his form, before he was roused. He looked up at Tolie with a groan, wanting nothing more than to roll over away from him and go back to his dreams. Something he hadn’t gotten to do in ages. But instead he sat up slowly, stretching, showing off the slightest bit again, before listening to the question.

It made the man pause. His whole body frozen for a moment, blinking a few times before looking at him. “How did you know...? No one’s ever asked....” he whispered softly, looking down before speaking again, “Yes. I would. If that’s all right...” he sighed, playing with his curls for a moment.

[theunderratedlostyouth]

Open to New Clients!

Open to: ANYONE (Mutual or not)

“Welcome to LGBT+ Piercings! What can we help you with today? I’m the owner, but if you don’t like my style i have a few other artists who might help you better than i can!” he cheered warmly looking up from his sketch book.

[theunderratedlostyouth]

foretoldchaos​:

at the mention of the pigment powder, tolie looks over to where it now rests. that saved him a trip into town, at least for a while. “you’ll get new clothes,” anatolie says, his voice saying that this is the finality of the situation. “the seamstress will make them for you. until then i’m sure i have something you can wear so you at least look more presentable.” he turns and moves towards an open wardrobe, clothes were heaped in a pile at the bottom of the wardrobe even though the majority of them were new. he rarely dressed up unless it was for a ball. he pulled out clean clothes and tossed them at leo.

“this entire wing of this floor is mine. which means unless i’m with you or tell you otherwise, this wing is the extent of where you’re allowed to be. you can pick one of my other rooms as your own and theres a wash room down the hall. there’s no point in running, the woods are dark and deep and you wouldn’t make it out of the house anyway.”

“I have no intention of running away from sleep and food.” he commented, “Even if it gets me killed, at least I won’t have to freeze to death in the snow outside.” With that he caught the clothes and headed for the door, wanting to at least wash the grime and sweat from his body, “Afterall, There’s a handsome man who needs help with his paints.” he taunted lightly before leaving the room quickly.

At least he wasn’t going to starve and at least he would get rest. He found the wash room and took the time to wash up nicely, even washing his hair and tying it back in a braid. He had always preferred to keep it long.

By the time he was heading back, dressed neatly and slipping back into the room, the sun was rising and he moved to lay on the bed sighing.

[theunderratedlostyouth]

foretoldchaos​:

“when did i say that you weren’t a pet?” answers the artist. he puts down the paint brush and stands up. his painting isn’t finished, but whether it gets finished and hung up in the mansion somewhere or destroyed was yet to be determined. tolie had a vague recognition of leo from dreams and visions, but he didn’t expect that he was supposed to be here. in this life. only suffering will follow this life, for himself and all those who are part of it. but there’s no leaving the cult. not unless you give your life. so he’ll keep leo. but if leo is who he thinks, then he wants to keep a distance between them. there’s no point in starting a life together that will only end in leo watching him die and dying in return.

“i am anatolie stoica, an artist and high ranking member of this cult.” he walks towards leo and tugs judgmentally on the fabric of leo’s shirt. tolie is only wearing pants and nothing more, but his clothing, although paint stained, is expensive. he comes from old money, a family name that’s well known and well respected in transylvania. the way he’s looking at leo, its clear he’s judging him for his clothes and how tired and hungry he looks. which is hypocritical of him, given how terrible his own health is by personal choice. “my pet shouldn’t look so -” he pauses, scrunches his nose in disgust. “- tomorrow i’ll ask the cult seamstress to make you better clothing.”

He let himself be pushed around, too tired to complain or fight back. “I never said I wasn’t a pet.” he knew he was backtalking, but hits and abuse had never stopped him before. As his clothes were tugged, he couldn’t help but snort, “I promise I look better without clothes.” he rolled his eyes feeling a bit better with some food in his stomach, “I saved the paint powder by the way.” he hummed glancing away, finally before stretching and letting his back crack. “I just need pants and a shirt and I’ll stay out of the way.”

He wasn’t expecting to be treated kindly, he didn’t exactly expect to be touched either, but he moved and stripped out of his ratty shirt, “Do you have somewhere you’d like me to wash up?”

[theunderratedlostyouth]

foretoldchaos​:

Originally posted by rubyontoyou

the cleanliness of the room wouldn’t last. anyone who had ever been in anatolie’s wing of the mansion knew that. servants rarely cleaned up more than what was necessary anymore.

so lost is he in his art that he forgets leo is there for a while. but when he remembers, without pausing in his art or looking at him, he says; “you can sleep in the bed if you’re tired,” his eyes flicker to the window to confirm that it’s night. “i have no plans to sleep tonight, so i won’t be needing it.” the paintbrush is put down so that he can finish the bottle of whiskey.

if pressed, tolie wouldn’t be able to give an accurate answer to when the last time he ate or slept was. but he could feel that it had been long enough that he was sure to pass out soon. maybe later in the night. maybe in the morning. he didn’t know.

a servant popped her head into the room then. “anatolie, i was told to bring you food. cosmina worries, please actually eat it this time.” a tray of his many favorites is sat down on the floor next to him before the servant leaves, and as soon as she does, tolie wordlessly gives the food to leo. “here. eat it.”

Leo blinked looking up, “Thank you...” he finally whispered in romanian, a heavy italian accent. He moved carefully to take the food, sitting cross legged, folded in half as he sighed looking around as he ate, his clothes were barely rags anymore after the rough treatment by the cult before the ceremony, and the time he had spent on the roads. 

“What should I call you then if I’m your pet?” he asked trying his best to speak properly.  He took a deep breath taking his time feasting, he could barely remember the last time he had eaten.

[theunderratedlostyouth]

foretoldchaos​:

Originally posted by m-sziszi

“i’ll just have the pet clean it, ‘mina,” he replies as he walks out of the stone basement. he leads leo up to the main floor and then up another staircase - his room being on the top floor of the mansion.

he pays no mind to the way the other seems too tired to walk - if he passes out, anatolie will simply have someone carry him. he isn’t kind, but he isn’t cruel either.

tolie’s room is at the end of the hall - a wing all to himself. fresh paint coats the hardwood, already starting to dry. but in reality, it barely matters. anatolie’s room is always filled with destruction - broken chairs and easels, canvasses torn and the paintings he had finished destroyed. the only thing untouched was his bed - it was made perfectly with clean, untouched sheets. a servant had made his bed for him days ago. he didn’t know how many.

tolie all but collapses onto a torn and stained sheet on the floor by a large window, where he’s got a new canvas propped against the wall. there’s a half finished bottle of whiskey sitting on the floor and tolie picks it up and takes a swig before picking up a paint brush. its almost as if hes already forgotten that leo exists. without looking up from his art he says; “find a way to clean up the paint. if you can salvage it, I’ll consider it a miracle.”

He glanced around the room when his eyes went to the paint, he moved carefully managing to salvage most of it before cleaning up the spot. It wasn’t too much for him to do, considering he had spent so many days cleaning up paints in his mother’s paint shop before he ran away, he worked slow and careful to get out debris out of habit. He had to make sure it was neat enough to sell again back then- but then he sighed making the spot appear as if nothing had happened to the pigment and the floor. He gently set the powder down and looked at the room before quietly starting to pick it up as well.

He mostly did it so he could possibly have a place to rest in the future if his ‘owner’ didn’t intend to work him to death.

[theunderratedlostyouth]

foretoldchaos​:​

it was rare for anatolie to get involved when killings were being done by the cult. usually he let cosmina have her fill of death and murderer, and painted the scene once it was over.

but he had seen this one before. flitting at the edge of his visions, the rare times he slept. it was probably obvious to the other man that tolie wasn’t exactly healthy. dark circles under his eyes and a lanky form that was more bone than muscle. to outsiders and insiders alike, he looked like he was chasing death.

slender fingers covered in paint and charcoal take hold of the rope - one end in his hand, the other binding his new … pet … he supposed. the hand that isn’t holding the rope cups leos chin and anatolie’s hazel eyes stare him down for a long minute.

“i’ll take him to my room,” he tells cosmina. “i need someone to clean up the paint i spilled.” paint that had been thrown in a fit of rage that had covered his entire hardwood floor. cosmina was undoubtedly used to his behavior though.

he tugs on the rope, signaling leo to start walking with him, not yet haven even spoken a word to him.

Leo sighed, standing slowly and walked behind the man dragging his feet some, they were dirty and sore, blisters from his travels, but he didn’t complain as he was pulled along, “I’ll send someone along.” Cosmina promised turning her attention to the next victim, purring for a moment before turning the blade red.

He didn’t flinch even as he heard the body fall and the smelled the blood. It was hard to really care anymore. He didn’t mind the feeling of the man holding his chin, though it was never something that bothered him, even if it should... 

He mindlessly followed, swaying after a few more steps, but not falling quite yet. He didn’t speak. Nothing he said would matter now after all.