01 December 2012 @ 06:05 pm
1.  Caught in the act

Door # 1Collapse )

2.  Cheerleader fantasy  

Door # 2Collapse )

3.  Captured // Stockholm Syndrome

Door # 3Collapse )


[ooc:  Hi!  It's been awhile since I've played in this comm, both here on LJ and over on DW.  So if anyone would like to poke at Claire, feel free to choose a scenario.  If anyone remembers her  feel free to assume CR.  Otherwise I'm totally cool with letting her make some new "friends" here.  

The first scenario, some slight incest would be okay; preferably an assumed stepbrother or stepfather, or maybe an uncle or cousin.  Otherwise, I'm pretty open to whoever for the different choices.  Het is strongly preferred, but this is also open for slash or futa.  As Claire can regenerate and feels no pain, rougher kinks are acceptable, all I ask is that she doesn't die, and no bathroom stuff.  Dubcon is encouraged, especially in the form of blackmail or whatever might be the case for the Captured scenario.  Any questions, feel free to message me!  Crossposted on LJ and DW.
]
 
 
22 October 2012 @ 09:22 pm
Gravel crunched beneath Chun-Li's high heels as she stepped out of the cab and tipped her head back to examine the manor to which she had been summoned. She wished she were wearing her boots instead; they were sturdy, and more supportive during those not-so-rare occasions where she needed to throw a decent kick. The dress she'd been made to wear was also more restrictive than she would have liked, but she put it on without voicing any complaints. It was necessary. All of this was necessary, no matter how much it turned her stomach.

There were hostages involved.

She disliked the idea of negotiating with terrorists, but this was a rare opportunity to get close to a criminal that Interpol had been chasing for months. The man was good at what he did, too good. For some unfathomable reason, he'd taken a fancy to the Chinese agent, and extended a personal invitation.

Naturally, she was bugged with tracking and recording devices to pick up on any clues he might drop. Once the meeting was concluded, Interpol was free to act, and she was eager to put this scum behind bars as soon as possible.

Departing the driveway, she climbed the steps and rapped on the door, unsmiling. Just because the duty was necessary didn't mean she had to enjoy it, or pretend she took any pleasure from conversing with a criminal.
 
 
31 July 2012 @ 12:21 am
Boy did he hate angels, not only were they dicking around with him and his brothers and in Adam's mind they seemed to be worse than demons at the moment - trying to kill Anna, forcing Dean to torture Alistair, keeping him and Dean from stopping Sam from opening Lucifer's cage - and now this, well it was either them or that annoying Trickster again and as he looked around the overly red room the Pagan God was actually getting his bet as that guy did have more style than the dicks with wings.

Hoping to find either of his brothers Adam carefully made his way to the door and down the hallway, trying not to stare at the pictures lining the walls too much.

[ooc: Adam's from the beginning of an AU Season 5, info about him is on his journal, though mun is up to date. Apart from maiming, death, breathing control, gun play, body alterations (piercings, tattoos, etc) and bodily fluids anything goes.] 
 
 
16 July 2012 @ 12:18 pm
Eric had gone to ground the same as he always did as sunrise approached. He still preferred the concrete room he had created for himself in Sookie's living room armoire while she had gone missing, which was, technically speaking, still his house, but he knew better than to continue using that as his resting place. His new area was not quite as sterile-looking as the old one, and not nearly as spacious. He had been resigned to purchasing and using a coffin in the interim, until he could find another suitable place.

Upon waking, he lifted the lid of his coffin (black lacquer on the outside, a dark steel-gray satin lining on the inside), and sat up with a yawn. He gave a slight stretch, raising his arms above his head, and then crawled out. It was then that he took a look around. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the odd lighting as they frantically searched his surroundings. Where was he? What happened? And god damn it, why was he so horny?

He growled quietly, an automatic reaction, his fangs popping out with a click. He hadn't fed since going to ground that morning. Not only was he horny, but he was hungry, too. A dangerous combination for a vampire.
 
 
Current Mood: hungryhungry
 
 
 
07 June 2012 @ 09:58 pm
No Event || BYOA || Locked to iustiviri and sitsherequietly  
Crowley is still going over events in his head, trying to figure out exactly how things ended up like this, so he can make sure to do it again.  He'd been in Dean's room, waiting for the hunter to return from his expedition -- yes, he could have just popped in on him as he often did, but he found it amusing, the way it was almost domestic, waiting for him like this.  He'd even baked him a pie.

And then there had been an angel all up in his personal space, and yes, of course Crowley had flirted with him.  It was just how he was, and how could he resist Dean Winchester's personal guardian angel?  But, he knew the quiet sad-eyed fallen angel from the Apocalypse, not the general of a war in Heaven, not pride and power and tearing down Purgatory.  Crowley had never expected to find himself with a hand grasping at the front of the ridiculously frilly apron he had on over his suit, shoved back against the wall, and with Castiel's mouth on his own.  The angel kisses him breathless, kisses him like he's trying to devour him and Crowley is rather okay with all of this, really.

He reaches a hand to tug at Cas' tie, their tongues sliding together as the angel plunders his mouth, bruises his lips with the intensity.  Dean hadn't made it sound like Castiel was even around, but he supposes the hunter might not have wanted him corrupting his sweet little bird.  Of course, this begs the question of who's a more corrupting influence?  Really, Winchester, what have you been teaching him?
 
 
05 June 2012 @ 10:39 pm
John hated being controlled by anyone, or even doing anything he disliked, but after the last exocism he had done, he began to feel weird. It wasn't until couple of weeks later that he realized something was wrong. It was just another night after sending demons who crossed the line down to their home, and on the bed with a half demon who suggested that they get kinky--and while John looked away, she placed a collar around his neck. That's when shit got weird. The entire night, John did everything that she wanted. He didn't want to do any of the stuff she wanted to do and there--she did it. It was fucking rape to John's eyes. It was the collar--or rather--what was it? Even before the collar he had come up to the hotel room completely reluctantly. So what the fuck was going on?

"...son of a bitch." He muttered as he sat at the back door step of a night club, smoking a battered cigarette. It wasn't just with the half demon, but with everyone else. He just did what they told him to do. It had been like this for the last few days, and it was like he had completely lost control over his body, "...shit..." John found his free hand upon the collar, this had attracted couple of other half demons to him. It was as though that this collar was a sign to everyone--as if they knew what John was currently going through. He had slept with at least fifteen half demons in the last few days. He hated this--he fucking hated it. His mind shouted no, he wanted to say no but when ever they rather--told him to do it or say it--he did it. He would when asked say no--but if they told him to say it? He would say it. "...I have to talk to Hennessy. Or Bee Man--shit anyone will do." He found himself standing up smashing the cigarette under him before digging into his pocket for his mobile, "Where the fuck did I put that piece of shit?" One of his hand was searching for his mobile, the other? Still picking at his collar so that he could somehow get it off. He couldn't stand sleeping with another half-demon tonight, at least, he knew the mentally he couldn't take it. Physically he could take what ever they threw at him, but mentally? He couldn't take it anymore.
 
 
01 June 2012 @ 11:35 pm
Intro || BYOA || Locked to iustiviri  
Castiel watched as the people walked by in the lobby, some of them in... states of undress or near-undress that he had thought were unacceptable for public.  He is reminded of the place Dean took him the night before, with its red carpeting, and the woman 'Chastity', in her strange garment that did little to conserve her modesty.  His head was canted to the side in that familiar way of his, standing still in his suit and tan overcoat, trying to process exactly where he was.  Perhaps it was another place of inequity.  But, they'd faced Raphael, and even lived through it, although the claim that Father was dead still hung heavy and unpleasant in his chest.  Why had he ended up in a place like this again?

The strangest part of all this was that he found he couldn't leave.  Focusing on the street by the motel where Dean had been, and yet nothing happened.  His powers were muted, yes. His Grace was slowly shrinking, light turning leaden in his breast, and yet he was certainly not yet so far fallen that his wings would not carry him.  This was... perplexing.

Castiel was an angel.  He was not omniscient by any means, but he was accustomed to a certain degree of innate knowledge about things.  The fact that he honestly didn't know where he was?  It was strange and new, and quite frankly, it was uncomfortable.  He shifted a little, and he furrowed his brow, reaching out for Dean.  If this was a den of inequity, it went to reason that Dean had come here with him.

It took a moment, but Castiel could always find that pulse of the man's soul no matter how many other people there were.  It was bright, pulsing with life, and so much more goodness than Dean ever seemed to understand.  Scarred, yes, but noble, worthy of saving, and Castiel would harrow Hell all over again for him.  And then he flew to Dean.  Quietly, it was reassuring that where ever he was, his wings weren't damaged, and that Dean was here.  He simply seemed unable to return to where he had been, which was another strange matter all together.

Really, this was all very confusing.

He appeared in a flutter of wingbeats, displaced air, standing too close, his breath almost on the back of the hunter's neck.  A slight flicker of fondness that briefly whispered across his face, forgetting, not for the first or the last time, their talks about 'personal space'.

"Hello, Dean."
 
 
27 May 2012 @ 07:27 pm
Either there were no telephone towers in the vicinity, or the hotel blocked all telecommunications being transmitted and received. He stood in the empty change rooms, the scent of chlorine stagnant in the air. He had not been able to find a decent signal throughout the entire hotel, even when he stepped out its confines or escaped to its only roof access. Something, or someone, was behind this, but right now all Dick Grayson could think about was his guilt. He really wanted to speak to Barbara, to confess, to explain, but he was alone. Again.

"Jesus," Dick muttered, yanking a towel from a pigeon hole and bare-footing it to the main aquatic centre. It was deserted at this time of night, and perhaps one of very few rooms in the hotel that were not red. The room was vast, his soft foot falls sending of little resonance, it looked almost cerulean in the diffused light illuminating the Olympic standard swimming pool, its surface brimming with steam generated by the central heating. Dick tossed the towel over a nearby bench, followed a little more gently by his smart phone, and without any further hesitance, jumped into the pool. The break of the water washed away his every thought, nothing but instinct to occupy the space in his feuding mind. His breath tore jets of bubbles past his ears, his chest hot with the exertion of his heart and muscles.

When he broke the surface after the fourth repetition, a figure was looming above. Dick wiped his face of the excess water, his breath misting in front of him amidst the heat from the pool. Slightly disorientated by his own issues, and aided by a biochemical fight or flight response, he drifted away from the edge of the pool to better take in his guest.

(Back from a hiatus, replying may be slow. No bathroom stuff, please, but pretty open for anything else; i.e. CR/Smut incl.)
 
 
25 May 2012 @ 01:27 pm
It was uncommon for the Impala to end up in strange situations. Hell, she turned human for fucks sakes around New Years and well, her owners hunted for a living. So the unusual was usual for her though this was different for the former car. Really different.

Waking up slowly, Baby rubbed her head with a soft groan, wondering how much she drank last night. Her head hurt like a damn bitch. Shifting a little, she realized she was no longer laying on a lumpy motel bed and that the room was too quite for her. Opening up her eyes, she took note of all the mirrors and let out a surprised noise, waking up fast. The hell was this place?

Looking around, the former car took not that she was only in a tight, skimpy white bra and panties. So not what she fell asleep in. Blinking she rubbed her head before slowly sliding out from under the covers and looked about the room. Obviously this wasn't the seedy motel she slept in last night.

"Sam?" She called, already moving toward the door, "Dean? Hello?"

Not caring she was hardly in any clothes, she poked her head the door and looked up and down the long hallway, hoping she could find her owners and fast.

[ooc- hi! me again, the one that plays the other Baby (mr_metallicar) :P Since I felt like bringing out my female one, I just thought I'd leave in a message. Basically, same kinks go with my other Impala and all except this one is straight ^^ Enjoy<3]
 
 
23 May 2012 @ 05:24 pm
Pink Switch || BYOA || for iustiviri  
When Sam woke up the next morning, it was with a degree of hesitation. He was comfortable curled up in his brother's arms, and he had no intention of getting up until Dean forced him to. 

He shifted slightly to press closer to his older brother, frowning a bit as he felt a pillow between them. He figured it must have wormed its way  there during the night. His hand slid between their bodies to pull it away when he realized it wasn't a pillow. It was a pair of breasts.

Attached to his body.

Sam yelped, falling backward off the bed with a painful thud.

"Dean!" he cried, face covered by his suddenly shoulder-length hair. "Dean, wake up!"
 
 
21 May 2012 @ 02:38 pm
Okay, so it wasn't really the first time he'd ever woken up some place else than where he went to sleep. Like say, being thrown up against walls by angry werewolves and blacking out from hitting his head so damn hard against said wall and then waking up in his room or something. Not that it counted or anything, considering he hadn't exactly gone to sleep or anything, but it was close enough. Anyway, point was, he was in his own room when he went to bed and now he's not. He didn't remember being woken up or someone manhandling him here, because Stiles was pretty damn sure he'd remember that since it would likely wake him. But he didn't. Wake up, that was.

So now he was in some strange place -- and okay, that wasn't exactly new or anything -- that he didn't know and was, which he suspected, alone. The room was nice and everything but it wasn't really his style, and hey at least he knew his captors had great taste. Getting up from the bed, Stiles went over to the window to look out, only he couldn't since the windows were frosted over which prevented him from seeing out. Shrugging, he headed for the door which was thankfully unlocked and pulling it open he stuck his head out and looked around, down the long seemingly endless hallway.

Great, so he was in the Shining or something. All that's missing is the creepy girl-twins. "Oh god, don't think that, don't think that." Because his luck it would be true and he didn't want to have to fight creepy children. Moving out of the room and down the hall, he stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans, shoulders hunched as he tried to make himself as invisible as possible despite there being absolutely no one in the hallway. The sound of something, as he was passing a room, startled him, making him jump and turning to look at the door. He knew he shouldn't, he knew that.

But really, when had Stiles ever not done something he wasn't supposed to do? He'd hate to break his track record. Walking up to the door, he knocked once before pushing it open. "Helloooooo? Please don't be a mass murderer waiting to kill me behind the door with a bloody axe or something..."

[Ooc: Permissions are here. :D Would lovelovelove castmates -coughderekcough- but anyone is welcome~ males for smut at the moment but all are welcome for CR. :D]
 
 
17 May 2012 @ 10:29 pm
Stuck In Elevator ll Mild Aphro ll For iustiviri  
After waking up to the amazing warm body of his owner curled up next to him, Baby was beyond happy. Hell, he was only here for a day and so far, everything seemed to be looking great for him all thanks to finding Dean. Once Dean woke up (and had a little morning sex), they both showered, dressed, had some breakfast and got ready for more of their journey to the bottom floor. Gathering his clothes in his hands, he let Dean lead the way out.

Trotting along side him, Baby took note of an elevator near the stair and pointed it out to Dean where the former car learned that he had a fear of tight spaces. After an hour or so of trying to convince him, he finally gave in and they both stepped inside.

"Damn..." Baby mumbled, looking at all the numbers on the wall. "Thing is endless." Shaking his head, he hit the "1" button and as the doors shut, Baby used his free hand to hold Dean's, an attempt to calm him.

"It'll be okay, De. I promise. I'm here for you."
 
 
15 May 2012 @ 01:50 am
Being here long enough one learns the ins and outs of how this weird, fucked up place works. The people it brings in and the people it takes away just as keenly, as if they were never here in the first place. Just like hearing about Sam being in this place yet he'd never run into him. Ran into all sorts of people in a large place like this, and some he definitely wouldn't mind running into again, like that cute little thing with the perky -- okay, back on track here.

Thing is, just when you thought you saw it all, when you thought it couldn't get any weirder the place liked to surprise you. Like aliens, for instance. Who knew! And even with all the magicy mumbo jumbo this place uses he still couldn't find a damn way out of here. Oh sure, he found a way outside but that was it. It was nice, sure. Great to finally have some fresh air, but there was no way out of here. The hotel seemingly in the middle of the frigging Pacific... or Atlantic or wherever here was.

So he'd gotten used to seeing weird things. Currently, Dean was looking for a restaurant or some place that had food, as he'd been at it for awhile, not one to rest until he had answers but even he had to take a break at some point. Except he had no idea where he was and every damn hallway looked the damn same. Seriously, would it kill to have some freaking signs or something?!

[Ooc: Been awhile since I've been back so I thought I'd drop in. :D Dean here is pulled from after episode 5x4. Castmates would be frigging fantastic, but anyone is welcome. Males only this time. Permissions can be found here. Anything you're not sure about, feel to free to ask!]
 
 
14 May 2012 @ 07:05 pm

Tundra's head was pounding as he slowly started to reach consciousness. He wondered briefly if he'd been drinking again, when he noticed an unfamiliar smell forcing it's way into his nostrils. He opened his eyes carefully, the light seemingly blinding with his current headache. He took a moment to gather himself before looking around the room and taking in his surroundings. The place was fairly plain, with red as a main theme. The bed in which he was currently lying was huge and clearly the centerpiece of the room. Tundra had seen shit like this before and briefly wondered how he'd wandered his ass into a love hotel and woken up alone. That was certainly a new twist to an old story. The hangover, on the other hand, not so much. He sat, hyperaware of his naked body against the soft covers of the bed. He was just about to start looking for his clothing as the door svung open, startling him for a moment as he turned towards the intruder.

((OOC: this is my original character Tundra (http://alleykittens.livejournal.com/676.html) He is a hulder(mythological magical being) and happens to be a bottom. Tundra prefers men, but if the lady is persuasive and dominant enough he might just go with the flow. No underage characters, please. If you have any other kinks? I'm pretty much okay with anything.))
 
 
Agent, you've been assigned to what might be the most important mission of your career, one in which the fate of the free world hangs in the balance!

Okay, yes, all your missions involve the fate of the free world hanging in the balance, but this one is different. Really. It has space lasers! How many have space lasers? Three!?

Look, just...shut up and listen to the rest of the briefing, then go to XXX branch to pick up your special gear. Remember after the last time, any lost equipment will come out of your pay check.

[ooc: So, your character has found themselves in the lead role of a swinging sixties style Spy Thriller in the model of James Bond. Naturally, what Bond film is complete without Bond girls? This time the lovely ladies of Fairy Tail will be supplying that role. Feel free to chose from the following scenarios.

There are also boys in this journal, so be sure to let me know if you'd like to play out a scenario with one of them. Feel free to be silly with this one, including making your own gadgets, spy vehicles, whatever. Also sign up for multiple scenarios if you wish.
]
 
 
11 May 2012 @ 08:49 pm
The Impala was used to weird thing happening around him. After all, his owners hunted monsters for a living so it wasn't hard for him to know a thing or two about strange things in the night. It didn't help that he was now a human due to some weird mojo magic, assuming it's from a tricksters doing.

After being used to crashing, burning, being possessed and changing into a human male, this was just something to add to the weird list.

Wincing a little as he woke up, Baby rubbed his head and groaned a little. Jesus, it felt as if he drank an entire bar last night. Opening his eyes slowly, he gazed about the room and realized, this wasn't the room he and his owners bought. The bed was too comfortable and there was way too many mirrors. The hell.

"Dean?" Baby called. "Sam?" He looked down at himself and realized he was only in a pair of tight boxers he doesn't remember putting on. What is this place? Baby grumbled and slide out of bed slowly as his headache slowly faded out.

"Gabriel, I swear to God, I'm going to kick your ass. Get out here now."

[ooc: Hi everyone! *waves* This is a humanized male version of the Impala from the series of Supernatural. Since I am up to date on canon, I can play anywhere from the first season to last. Males only please and doesn't mind being dominated or dominating someone else. Supernatural characters get extra love but all are welcome. Feel free to go crazy on the former car but please no maiming, killing, and things that belong in the bathroom. All in all, most of the kinks are a go. :)] 
 
 
Rei smelled it in the air: it was the perfect time for him to go out and spread his seed. He was in the perfect place to do it too, where people's inhibitions were already low and they were willing to give into their base desires and lust. They wouldn't be fighting too much, not if they were in his room. There, they would be under his powers... and oh, he would reward them for coming inside and giving him control. They would feel so much pleasure by his hands.

So, he left his door wide opened and laid on the bed, waiting, an inviting aura that no one would be able to resist emitting strongly from its depths.


OOC notesCollapse )
 
 
20 April 2012 @ 10:53 am
Sam Winchester had been through a lot of crap over the course of his twenty-six years. He'd lost his mother, his father, his brother, his girlfriend. He'd been scratched, bitten, impaled, kidnapped, hunted, possessed, and even killed.

But he'd never gone to sleep in one bed to wake up in another.

Forcing his eyes open, Sam realized that he was definitely not in the room he and Dean had rented for the night. First of all, even Dean wasn't egotistical enough to rent a room covered in mirrors. Second, the bed and sheets were way too comfortable to be something the two of them could afford.

"Dean?" he called. He was relatively sure his brother hadn't been brought along, but it couldn't hurt to check. Dealing with weird crap like this was always easier with his brother at his side.

Rising slowly from the bed, Sam ran through a mental list of things that could have done this to him. The Trickster was the first creature that came to his mind, and he was instantly sure that he was right. Only a trickster could have created a room as tasteless and garish as the one he was standing in.

"Alright, douchebag!" he called, too distracted to notice his state of near complete undress. Whatever had put him here saw fit to strip him of everything but his boxers. "What's the game this time?"

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

OOC: Hey everyone! This is Sam Winchester from the series Supernatural. I pulled him from just after the end of season 4, when Lucifer's been popped out of the box and all Hell is breaking loose. Men only, please, and preferably dominant ones. Supernatural muses are love, but all are welcome. Feel free to tear into my Sammy. He can take it. I only ask that severe maiming, killing, and things that belong in the bathroom be left at the door.
 
 
17 April 2012 @ 10:19 am
Matt had woken up a couple hours earlier to find himself in a strange place, though it honestly didn't seem all that bad as of yet to him other then the obvious smell of sex lingering in the air. He chose to ignore it; instead he sat against a wall silently as he played Pacman. He'd wait until someone came to him and told him what was going on...but for now, he might as well just sit back and relax.

((ooc:Matty here is into m/m sorry ladies.))
 
 
03 April 2012 @ 04:34 pm
[Gale groans a little as light hits his eyes. He wants to sleep he doesn't want to be awake! But the light is obviously not going anywhere so he opens his eyes slowly and waits for a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light. Wait a minute...this isn't his house. He looks down at the large bed with it's red sheets and rose petals strewn over it. In fact, everything in the room is red. Where the hell is he...?

He gets up and looks around moving straight to one of the doors, trying to open it. It's locked...great. He tries the other doors in the room and he encounters the same problem. He's trapped. His eyes scan the room again and they rest on some food resting beside the bed. Well, at least he won't starve. He moves straight for it...back at home he's never seen this much food at once before. He starts to eat, not knowing that of course it's laced with aphro.

He hears one of the doors open behind him and he turns quickly]
Hello? Who's there?
 
 
02 April 2012 @ 01:33 am
There was something wrong. He felt... fuzzy. His thoughts were disorganized and difficult to hold. The air was thick, heady. When he swallowed he could actually taste it on the back of his tongue, like perfume that had been sprayed in too small a space. There was something around his throat; a collar, he realized. He tried to take it off but he was stopped short by the matching shackles on his wrists. Snarling, he jerked against the chains, struggling to break them. They held strong, werewolf-proofed or something, and after several minutes he stopped, slumping forward, his breath escaping in sharp pants. God, he was hot. If he hadn't known better he might have thought fire had been injected directly into his veins. He needed to get free. No, scratch that. He needed someone to fuck. Derek groaned, shifting to look around. Where the hell was he anyway?

[ooc: Obligatory shirtless icon! 8D Everyone is welcome. Unchain the werewolf at own risk! Derek is a dominant but can be forced to submit. Castmates (particularly Stiles! /cough/) are loved. No bathroom play or vore. Biting will happen. If you're not sure about something, ask.]
 
 
As far as she knew, the text message she'd received on her cell phone was legitimate. He'd asked her to come over and she'd sent a message in return, smiling like an idiot, to accept. Even if it was just to go over homework, or discuss the matter of local town monsters and how to go about defeating them, she was happy just to spend time with him. But she still hoped, every time, that he'd asked her over simply because he enjoyed her company and wanted to spend some personal time with her.

Which wasn't really the case, more often than not, as he did have a roommate. And the more practical side of her reminded that her hopes were nothing more than idle fantasies. Even if he lived alone, would he really see her as a woman he could fall in love with?

Perhaps not now. Perhaps not ever. But Orihime was an optimist at heart, and who knew? Today could be the day he looked at her at just the right moment and felt a quickening in his pulse.

Hugging her jacket a little closer against the evening chill, she hurried up his walk. It would be nice to see his smile again, she thought to herself, as she raised a hand to knock.

(OOC: Prefs are here! The default scenario is Orihime feeling unrequited love for a guy, while oblivious to the unrequited love of his roommate who actually sent the text. As usual, you can pick up whatever role you like, or invent something completely different, like a person she runs into along the way. I'm flexible! Run with whatever idea sounds fun to you!)
 
 
25 March 2012 @ 03:22 pm
BAMF!

Kurt popped into existence, his bare feet dropping lightly onto the cold porcelain of the shower floor. With his eyes squeezed shut, he fumbled for the knobs and sagged with relief under the hot spray. He wasn't exactly sure what had sprayed him in the face, but he was quite certain he didn't want to know -- especially after hearing what sounded suspiciously like Bobby Drake squeak out 'Don't worry, uh...mon cher...cherie...it's not toxic! But, uh, Kur-Bleu? Go shower. Right now. Oui.' in a very bad Cajun accent. He didn't wait for further information, he just teleported immediately to his bathroom.

It smelled like cinnamon candy and felt disturbingly sticky. And it stung. Gott help him, he'd bamfed into the crossfire of an Iceman/Gambit prank war. What the devil had Bobby thrown on him? A gallon of Goldschläger? Ach, he'd be plucking gold glitter out of his fur for a month!

Although that would explain where Katzchen's bottle of the potent cinnamon schnapps had vanished to.

His tail lifted a bottle to his hands, but he was too distracted with washing his face to notice that the shampoo didn't smell like what he normally used. Not that he could smell anything over the candied alcohol he was trying to rinse from his eyes.

It washed away easily enough, even out of his fur -- once he carefully stripped off his sodden cinnamony clothes, and it was only until he opened his eyes to find out why his towel wasn't wear his memory said it should be, that he discovered it was because he wasn't where his memory said he should be.

This wasn't his bathroom. Nor was it any bathroom he'd ever seen before.

It was...hilariously tacky for one. Kurt pulled a towel from the pile folded on a shelf and wrapped it around his hips.

Oh, look. He was going on an adventure in only a towel. Again.

Wunderbar.

The door was open. He carefully glanced around the doorjamb and into what appeared to be a luridly decored hotel suite. "Hallo?"

It's 616 Pre-M Day Nightcrawler! It's been a loooong time since I rp'ed so let's turn on the juice and see what shakes loose. Extra love for castmatesbut CR for everybody.
 
 
25 March 2012 @ 02:51 am
Neria supposed she should have been used to it by now, the stench of death and dark and nasty, but the aroma stung her nose just as badly as it had the first time.

They heard them before they saw them, which was a nice change from the ambush they'd suffered that morning. Regardless, it didn't go as smoothly as expected and by the time the last darkspawn fell, the weariness they'd been rather poorly managing was simply too much to endure any longer. With camp suggested and wholeheartedly agreed to, a more than sutible spot was found and gradually filled with bedding and tents, a fire, and the smell of a much needed meal. It would have been more pleasant though, the familiar waft of stew, if she wasn't covered in the very blood that tainted her own.

Next time, try to avoid the spray.

Good advice that the elf woman had been failing to follow as of late, by the way, because it was more than muck, grime, and bodily odor that she'd been scrubbing out the past few nights. Gathering the embroidered cloth of her robe, Neria noted the excess, not to mention the threadbare condition. She was in desperate need of something less likely to fall apart at a sneeze, but with Denerim still two days away, unless she found something worth taking off a dead back ( which never ceased to make her slightly uncomfortable ), it would need to keep pulling its weight.

Just a little longer, she beggingly promised, shedding the poor, battered thing behind the questionable privacy of a cluster of bushes, undergarments following. While the lake would do nothing for her chill, she'd hastily moved while everyone else settled, eager to be clean. Slowly submerging, limbs aching, a soft hiss escaped as a her still mending side throbbed, bringing about another important reminder:

Oh. And the arrows. Definitely avoid those.

OOCCollapse )
 
 
 
10 March 2012 @ 10:46 pm
At the very least, Konoka figured it was a matter of time before the hotel put her in one of these again.

When she came to, she was naked--minus stockings and heels. At the very least, she leaning slightly over the bed, her legs spread slightly and tied to the feet of the bed. Hands and tail tied behind her back, she of course figured she couldn't move, other than straightening herself into a standing position or lying down on the bed. No gag, but she could spot a selection nearby, likely encouraging their use. She shifted a bit, and noticed a minor oddity--her hair was done in a ponytail this time, and its front was pulled between her lovely chest, likely to maximize the exposure of her back.

She sighed. "Aw, man..." Another assessment revealed all manner of whips and crops too--and to that she worried she was up against a possible sadist. There were, however, toys, so maybe it wasn't all about pain. "Why does the hotel have to do this? I mean, all someone has to do is ask..."

However, due to being concerned about this predictable setup, she failed to notice one thing--her magic was a little more apparent. She didn't notice that it was flowing easier, and her position failed to let her see the runes on the floor. Likely, if she used her magic, she wouldn't be the only person feeling it.

[[Sorry for another attack, but this one hit me. Captured for your use, Konoka is at your mercy. However, thanks to the runes, the pleasure she gets from using her magic is doubled. It could be something as simple as simply appealing to her inner masochist and making her heal herself, or more magic oriented characters can use her spells and abilities against her (what she's capable of, your muse will have to question her and find out) or use her as a magic battery to augment their own. Don't get too violent or gory though. Crossposted to Dreamwidth.]]
 
 
10 March 2012 @ 09:55 am
Butterfly sighed as she switched off the radio. It was hard to listen to that song. It reminded her too much of why she was out here.

It had been years, now, since she'd seen her. They'd grown up together, or at least it had seemed that way, and they'd gotten together sometime in high school. Butterfly still remembered the day she'd found out her love was moving away, the feeling of a pit opening in her heart. They'd had ups and downs, just like any relationship, but it was a lot harder to remember the downs after spending so long missing her.

Oh, they'd argued, before she left. As emotional as they'd both been in the days leading up to the move, that was no surprise. And things had been said that perhaps shouldn't have been, enough that Butterfly hadn't been there to say goodby the day she left at last.

And now, here she was, sitting in a convertible and looking up at the overcast sky as if it held the answers she was looking for. After all this time, she was trying to track her love down again. The knowledge Butterfly had of where she'd moved to had been annoyingly imprecise, and when she finally found it only to be told that she'd moved on again long ago, she'd felt like giving up. But she hung on, clinging to what clues she could, driving from point to point in search of her lost love.

((OOC: Are you who Butterfly's looking for? Or someone she happened to pick up along the way (or who happened to pick her up)? The sky's pretty much the limit with scenarios and other events you could bring in, but Butterfly tends to prefer girls for smut, and I'd like to avoid the usual gore/death/toilet stuff problems. Old CR who haven't run into her much lately are especially welcome, but so are more current CR or new people entirely! Smut may take a while to get to, or it may come quickly, depending on how things work out. Crossposted to [community profile] the_love_hotel))
 
 
Current Music: "Following Rita" Train
 
 
05 March 2012 @ 02:25 am
It was this feeling of floating again. This feeling of being extremely hot yet feeling so completely good. He felt compliant, felt placid, and for once, felt happy.

Amethyst eyes cracked open and Ritsuka immediately found out why he was feeling this way.

He was here again. This place that he hated, and loved, at the same time.

Why?

He would have said it out loud if his mouth wasn't gagged. Perhaps he would had sat up and tried again to find a way out if he wasn't handcuffed to the headboard of the bed.

And maybe he would have begged for relief from this heat and desire pooling oh so unforgiving in the pit of his stomach.

[[OOC: Feel free to have your character, whether new or been at the hotel for a while, to join Ritsuka! Males and females are welcome. I'm open to about anything except for the usual - gore, vore, scat, bathroom stuff... but PM me if you wish! Dominant personalities would probably be preferred for this situation!Long or short tags are all good! Mun is: Online]]
 
 
02 March 2012 @ 01:02 pm

I loved this room.

It was not merely liking. It was not a simple act of enjoyment, or even adoration. I felt as though I’d reached the Mecca of my soul, and every act I brought to life in here would be a prayer to my Gods. 

I derived amoral pleasure from the devious implements this room held, floggers, canes, whips, crops, and paddles filling an entire wall, and assorted instruments of torture hung over the remaining three: knives, spikes, dildos and vibrators of all types, clamps, candles for wax, ropes, halters, spreader bars, bit gags, ring gags, ball gags, inflatable gags, cock rings, humblers, ball-crushers, bondage mitts, and all manner of other delights. Crowded over the plush, luxurious black carpeting, curiously clean of the usual rank rich stink of sex, sweat and blood found in dens such as this, were apparatuses: no less than three horses, including a triangular wooden one, a mechanical rider, and a spanking horse; straps that worked by suspending the toy from the ceiling; a sensory deprivation box; a cage; a Saint Andrew’s Cross; and a number of others, including an over-large dog kennel. 

Gracing it all, centered like the cella in the naos, the altar of a Grecian temple where the figure of the God sits, stood the wide king-sized bed with its opulent silk sheets, delicately embroidered with carmine and black vines and flowers, my favorite colors. Manacles hung open for use, coming in prongs from the wall and laying unassumingly on top of the patterned blankets, with more attached to each of the four posts, and a carven headboard with intricate whorls, perfect for feeding a rope through. I knew the keys to the manacles were in my pocket, though I wasn't sure how the knowledge had come to me. I was too delighted to wonder, however.

The slow beat of my demonic heart sped up a mite, thinking of the subjugation I could bring to life in here.

((Mun Post: My character, Karasu, is a sadist in canon, and I play him as a paraphiliac, so he has so many kinks the club can’t even handle him right now, most notably trichophilia, biastophilia, and a love of lust murders. I play him as being interested primarily in men and teenage boys, and he’s shallow, so they’re usually attractive, but other than that, Karasu is a filthy pervert so if you want to do something filthy and perverted, particularly non-con or BDSM, let’s do it! If you’re more powerful than him, feel free to rape him instead, by the way. He’ll put up an unholy fight, but it’s not at all impossible to win. Also, be aware, I won’t kill your character (unless you’d like me to), but Karasu has a fixation on death and his own despair that may very well act up.))

 
 
Current Music: "Stand the Pain," by And One
 
 
01 March 2012 @ 12:06 am
Orihime was jittery for all kinds of reasons. A week-long class trip out to a more rural area of the country was extremely fun. There were tons of things to see, for the area was rich with history, and beautiful besides. The hotel was a lot nicer than she expected too, with an outdoor hot springs, soft and plush floor mats that were as comfortable as any bed, and a buffet downstairs that served a variety of hot foods and sushi.

There were two students to each room, but as there were an odd number of females, Orihime was given a half-suite, which suited her just fine.

She'd stopped by her boyfriend's room to bid him good night, where he'd offered her a cell phone, so they could text each other intimate messages (or, rather, so he could text intimate messages and Orihime got happily embarrassed). She'd held the phone for a moment, already feeling her face grow warm, and then looked at him again, before saying the boldest thing she'd ever uttered.

"Wouldn't it be better in person?"

Yes, yes it would, he'd agreed. Now she had to wait for his roommate to fall asleep, so he could sneak out of his room undetected and join her. Fraternizing with the opposite sex was against the rules, contributing to her already present and giddy jitters. She'd never done something like this before. They'd kissed plenty of times, sometimes while embracing one another, but it was never anything beyond 'first base' as her best friend had called it. So this? This was daring for her. She didn't know how many bases they'd hit tonight, but she knew she cared for her boyfriend very much, and if things went well...then...maybe she'd be okay with a complete home run.

It was a spontaneous decision, and as such, she wasn't wearing anything all that sexy or alluring -- just her cotton striped pajamas. Her hair was still slightly damp after the visit to the springs, neatly combed and hanging straight. She left her hairpins on the dresser next to the lamp, and sat on her mat. Her knee jogged as she anxiously awaited the soft knock on her door.

(OOC: Same old prefs are here. Mushy and awkward times are expected, but if you want to fit in a villainous infiltrator or even some weird monster, feel free! The school trip can be high school or college, depending on age preference. Her canon age is 17, but I don't mind making her older. CR is fine, sexless romance and/or making out is fine, sex is fine.)
 
 
No, No, no no no no no.

He'd won. He'd beaten Sherlock, taken himself out of the game. Solved that very final problem and now he was...in a hotel. Nothing much, nothing fancy. Just a hotel. But without Moran, without any of his snipers, his people, his contacts. Was this hell? It was too luxurious to be the hell Jim Moriarty had expected to find himself in for all his sins. It definitely wasn't heaven. That would just be silly, if admittedly hilarious. Side of the angels indeed. Whatever would dear Sherlock have had to say for himself then?

But Moriarty was never without a plan, was never without resources for too wonderfully long, and he found something, just a simple silk ribbon lying on the bed he'd woken up on. It was enough. He was always fonder of the close personal touch on the rare occasion he did deign to get his hands dirty.

Touching the ribbon though it wasn't death he wanted to bring to people though. Pain and pleasure always worked so well and in such equal measure. Why could they not do so here?

"Interesting." he said simply, looking around the room for a moment before moving toward the open door length of ribbon held as if a weapon between his hands

[OOC: This is Jim Moriarty from the BBC's Sherlock, he's a modern version of the books villain and is very very different in a lot of ways and a lot more obviously psychotic, M/F, M/M, BSDM either side, if someone can actually make Moriarty submit then hell to the yes but he's a natural dom. He'll be very fond of pain even to the point of knives but run stuff by me. Nothing that belongs in the toilet, other than that I have very few limits. Cannon Mates would be ALL OF THE LOVE!]
 
 
26 February 2012 @ 08:51 am
Kitty Pryde prided (forgive the pun) herself on being able to handle any situation. Whether it was dealing with the Brotherhood or acing her math test, she always came out successful.

That's why, when she woke up bound to a bed in nothing but her short pink nightshirt, she was determined not to panic. She could totally handle it.

Her first attempt to get free- which involved trying to phase through her bonds- ended with no success. (Though that didn't stop her from trying several additional times out of desperation.)

When her powers were deemed useless, she attempted to maneuver her wrists out of the silk's deceptively strong grasp. Again, nothing.

So she was left with only one option.

"Like, help! Someone help me!"

(OOC: This is Kitty Pryde from the X-Men: Evolution series. This takes place a little after the series ended, so she's a senior at Bayville High and just recently turned 18. X-Men characters would be great- any version- but anyone is welcome. Men only for smut, and I'm up for pretty much anything other than death or stuff that belongs in the bathroom. If you have any specific questions, you can PM me)
 
 
26 February 2012 @ 01:36 pm
[Everything smelled of chocolate. The bed. The floor. The closet full of toys and outfits... It was driving Belbet mad. Absolutely mad. The smell of the sweet cocoa, in usual circumstances, had him a drooling mess. However, every time he breathed in the incredible scent, he felt a tight toil in his lower belly tighten even further.

Somehow, despite already bringing himself to orgasm three times - the remains of which were still splattered across his sheets - he was still hard. Still desperate to get off to the smell of chocolate--

His head snapped to the side as he heard at knock at the door, his pulsing, red cock still in his dirtied hand. He wouldn't be able to control himself. He knew he wouldn't. The smell of chocolate and a warm body on top or underneath him... Belbet gave a strangled, animalistic moan, falling back into his bed and resuming stroking his cock, hoping that by cumming, he'd be knocked out of his lust-filled trance.]

[OOC: This is open to all for both CR and smut. To put the scenario in it's simplest form, Belbet can smell chocolate and has a boner. Which, if you've played Enzai, means someone's going to get fucked, licked and bitten hopefully in front of a certain guard]
 
 
24 February 2012 @ 03:50 pm
[Kanda had no idea where he was. Or why. One minute, he'd been walking down the hall to his apartment but when he opened the door to go inside, he'd found himself staring at a very interesting room. And by interesting, he meant--]

......

[Yeah, he didn't know what to think of that. Why were there so many toys in that room? He didn't want to know. It couldn't be his roommate's doing. So who was responsible? He shut the door and turned around but was less than pleased to find himself staring at a completely different hallway. For one, it was indoors. And secondly, the walls were a terrible shade of red.]

What the hell is this place?




((ooc: dub-con and non-con are allowed with this one. Permissions in journal, any questions and we can talk~))
 
 
Current Mood: annoyedannoyed
 
 
22 February 2012 @ 12:56 am
Locked to hamster_lord  
Ion blushed darkly, unsure he was comfortable with this. Bound to the bed on his stomach with red ribbon that wound around his body, though only tight enough that he couldn't free himself, he was forced to wait. The ribbon was even wound around his fully hard length, which was pressing into the covers and making him squirm. The small vibrator buzzing against his prostate isn't helping and the furry white ears atop his head twitch anxiously.

Even the fluffy white puppy tail curled cutely above his exposed rear end was making him shiver every time the fur brushed his skin.

But he should be there soon right? This was something the hotel staff had said was between him and his master for Valentine's Day when he woke up like this and that a note had already been delivered...and that they were leaving plenty of things to play with should the two of them need them. So he could only wait.
 
 
21 February 2012 @ 06:04 pm
Wisely hasn't been back here in some time. He looks around the place and smiles a bit. He wonders how long he was gone this time. If any of his friends are still around. He's curious. Are his lovers still here? He's missed his lovers.
 
 
18 February 2012 @ 03:38 pm
ooc -- it's late but it's finally here! Valentine's Day weekend. ^^;; I'm back, finally.

Tyki wasn't surprised to find himself once more in the Hotel. In fact, he'd rather expected it. This place seemed to drag him in at unusual times. He noted the change in decor, the hearts plastered over the walls, the sickly sweet perfume wafting through the air. It was such an overly done display for a holiday but he didn't complain for once. Valentine's Day could be fun. He could do with a date. He smirked and began to whistle, walking down the hall. When he came to what he supposed would be a promising room, he phased through the door.

"Hello~" He called to his prospective date. He was looking forward to tonight. This was going to be fun.
 
 
 
17 February 2012 @ 04:15 am
[ she was nervous, but much more curious than anything. this place was much more different than back at home, there were doors all down the hallway and strange noises coming from them. noises that made Rapunzel's face flush maybe once or twice, but it wasn't like she understood exactly what was going on. was someone ill?

she continued to creep through the noisy hotel, calling out in a sharp whisper voice ]


H-hello? Is anyone there?

[ ooc: open to all, no bathroom kinks or weird stuff! ]
 
 
15 February 2012 @ 07:37 pm
As most things started, it had started in an argument. She had yelled, gotten cocky, then ran off the ship to find a buried treasure on her own. All she had was her map, her wits, and of course, her trusty anchor. But for May, she knew that was enough. She knew she could find it, because nobody else truly read the map. They took it too literal. The eyes of God that the map mentioned weren't really eyes at all; they were holes in the ceiling of a cave that made an 'X' on the ground.

And that was where May started to dig.

She had been digging for hours, and when the light started to dim, she had made a small fire pit, the cave aglow. Wiping her brow with the back of her hand, May kept pulling out dirt, hands stained from all her digging. Finally though, the soft earth gave way to hard metal. Excited, May dug more quickly, and soon, she was hauling out a large chest. The lock was easy enough to break, and once she opened it, fire caught the facets of the many jewels and gold within.

"Yes!" May squealed and hopped up and down, clapping her hands. She couldn't haul it back until morning, but she had it, and that was what mattered. She would show them all!

She was so busy celebrating she didn't hear the sounds of footsteps approach her from behind.

[OOC: New to the hotel! May, aged up to 18, has found some treasure, and you can either be a crewmate, a rival pirate, a stranded traveler, or anything else you can think up. Either way, May will be willing to do anything to keep her find. Castmates (especially Johnny) would be MAJOR love, but anyone (male, female, or otherwise) is welcome to tag! Nos are bathrooms things, death, and gore.]
 
 
14 February 2012 @ 08:46 pm
[On Valentine's Day, Grell wakes up to find himself wearing a see-through red lace nightgown. Rather than being disturbed, he's delighted. The hotel likes him, it gives him gifts. So he's glad to get another one.

He gets out of the bed and spins around the room, admiring his white skin showing through the red lace.

He skips down the hall, proudly showing off his new acquisition. He dances, sings loudly, and laughs to himself as he tromps down the hall.]


[OOC: whoever wants to find lacy!Grell and do with him as you will, be my guest! M/M preferred but not required]
 
 
12 February 2012 @ 03:40 pm
Playing nurse | locked to blondblitzer  
If there was one thing that sucked about being Wyndian, it was Nina's immune system. It wasn't weak, by any stretch, in fact she was a rather resilient young lady... to most things. The problem was, her different biology gave her some vulnerabilities humans didn't have, making some illnesses that would normally be little more than an irritation into something much more threatening. Strep throat meant a week in bed with delirium, for instance (though ironically it didn't actually inhibit her breathing). And even worse, some of the more 'mild' flus could be potentially fatal.

And that was why she hadn't seen her boyfriend in two week. Tidus had the flu, and while he was awake, lucid, and just on bed rest, Nina simply couldn't be in the same house. She missed him already, had for thirteen days, and had spent a lot of them bored senseless, with no way to fill the time that would normally be spent with him.

Until today. She had spoken with medical professionals, and had been assured that while he was still on the mend, he would no longer be contagious. His house was kept clean and surfaces aggressively disinfected as a matter of course (being the sporty type he tracked mud everywhere at the best of times) so she could safely go and see him. And she had been on her way when one more idea had come to her.

She was standing outside Tidus' door, holding a tray of things - medicine, water, tablets, all the meds he would need. And while that might normally be surprise enough, her appearance when she knocked on the door would be another one - with a little effort, she had managed to procure a light blue nurse's uniform, and done it up to accommodate her wings. It was perhaps half a size small, and the skirt a little short, but otherwise she looked perfectly the part.

"How's the patient today?"
 
 
05 February 2012 @ 12:25 pm
In the warm afternoon sun, as in most towns, the central shopping district was bustling with activity. Each business would try their best to gain more favour, make a bigger profit, and all the while keeping things in order. It was surely a hard days work, running your own store. Well, maybe not when you have the right help.

And that is what one shopkeeper is fortunate enough to have. Today, like many other days, there is mess that needs cleaning up in his little odds and ends store, and he happens to have just the right tool for the job. However, it is an unconventional one by appearance. From the front, it doesn't look like a tool at all. Most would look into the glass case, and only see a pretty, very realistic doll, eyes shut as if in a deep sleep. It almost seems wrong to take her out of the case, forcing her onto her feet as she slumps forward from the waist. Apparently that is ideal though, as it just makes it much easier for the owner to put the large, metal key into the hole in her back, turning it anti-clockwise a few times. Yes, the direction was important. as in the instructions in the front pocket of the doll's dress, turning it the other way would evoke her to act much more, well, human. Hardly necessary in this situation, it was much easier to just make her compliant and obedient for the tasks she performed.

Still, one couldn't deny there was something about the elaborate creation. The skin, the hair, the eyes, both in looks and in touch, probably felt just like a real human body. Truth be told, some had even though the lovely pieces were built out of real people, or simply enchanted to have those clockwork controls. Of course, any such beliefs might fade somewhat on closer inspection. After all, no matter how real she looked, she didn't breathe, she had no pulse or heartbeat, that lovely skin was held no warmth, and those eyes held no real spark, apart from the artificial reflection as they caught the light. That was more aparent in the blank state that came as she straightened and those eyes opened, the key being removed as she stiffly turned, looking for some sign of instruction.

Naturally, she did as she was told, silently taking a broom and going to where she was indicated, sweeping the floor clean. Nothing was a distraction from obeying that order, her entire focus on the task at hand. As people walked on by, whether they noticed her or not, it didn't matter, at least in her current state of mind. In acting like a willing servant, she didn't even have her name. Yes, there was one written on the instructions, but her current owner failed to see the use for it. She just happened to look nice, and was a worthwhile trinket to keep around in order to keep the shop tidy, that was all. Still, it would be of interest to see what could be, if someone did happen to stop and give the doll a closer look, and perhaps find some reason to do more than just admire the apparent craftsmanship.

[ooc: Cross posted from DW hotel if you prefer answering there. That key turned the other way in Amelia's back will allow her to operate with her normal senses and feelings in place if you desire it, but of course, there's only one way to really make her fully human again. Feel free to either play along with the setup, or be aware that it's not right. Basically the former route has a character just being genuinely interested/attracted to this very realistic looking doll and trying to take her away/buy her etc.The latter can be played with someone who recognises the spell/hotel trick and that she's a real person that's been altered, or come to that conclusion if the character knows and recognises Amelia. (She'll know her past aquaintances, but in her current state, she just doesn't have the emotions to react to their presence.) If you want to work with a different scenario or variation of these, feel free, I'm happy to play out different ones. Men and women are welcome, and castmates, past encounters and new people are all welcome for CR or smut. Apart from the normal no's of bathroom stuff, gore/violence and death, anything should be fine, but feel free to ask if you're not sure, or look at Amelia's preferences.]
 
 
04 February 2012 @ 11:27 pm
It was a bit ironic, all things considered. For someone who was once a slave power, finding himself forced to be a slave for a day certainly was a blow to his pride, but the Confederacy knew with this hotel, his hands were tied. Metaphorically speaking anyway, and some part of him hoped it stayed that way. Being unable to do anything but obey, he could only imagine how such a situation could be detrimental to himself, especially while he as of yet wasn't entirely sure just what type of master this would turn out to be.

At the moment, he's alone in the room, awaiting whoever walked through that door with orders for him.


[ooc; Perhaps your character recieved a note from someone, or maybe they've managed to catch CSA themselves, but whatever the reason they now have Aaron here as their personal slave for a day. He might be contrary, he might not, that one depends on how he's treated/what he's ordered to do, but however much he complains his body will compulsively obey anything. As for permissions: everyone is welcome, 18+ for smut, and canonmates or returnees are much loved. The usual for kinks, but nothing that belongs in a toilet or something else equally gross. Late or backtags are totally fine, and if there's any questions feel free to ask.]
 
 
02 February 2012 @ 01:02 pm
The room is damp, and cool, like all the rooms in the dungeons of Hogwarts, though this one isn't like the classrooms that surround it. Turns out, those rumors about Filch hanging people by their knuckles wasn't too far off. Severus is shackled to the wall, scowling at nothing in particular. The room is filled with confiscated contraband of a surprisingly adult nature, and the young Slytherin looks particularly uncomfortable.

The door opens and he looks up, expecting to see Filch, and instead... he glowers.
"What do you want?"

Ooc: Have a teenaged Severus Snape. He's unlikely to be enthusiastic about anything of a sexual nature, so Dub/Non-Con is very likely, or just come chat to him, whatever suits your fancy. Bathroom things are my only squicks, otherwise, ask if you're unsure. Canon mates would be love.]
 
 
31 January 2012 @ 06:32 pm
[ Just another day at Boss Spain's house, at least that's what Romano thought when he woke up. The first thing he noticed was that something was off. The color of the sheets. Spain had bought him white ones and these were red. Second, he was practically naked all except for his boxers. That wasn't right, he knew he fell asleep with a shirt and pants on.

Romano decided to get out of bed and see what the hell was going on. He walked around the room and saw condoms, lube, dildos, and all sorts of things. And of course he blamed Spain for all of this. Spain was always to blame, yes sir. But why would he do this to Romano? To bully him or to scare him? Either way someone was going to pay.

He headed for the door and opened it. To his surprise the hallway was different. Really different. He must have been dreaming right? Romano pinches himself to make sure he wasn't. Nope not a dream. Perhaps yelling would solve everything. ]


Hey stupid bastard, where the hell are you?!!

[ Yup this was going to be a long day. Anyone want to come to his rescue? ]

ooc: everything accepted except for death and gore.
 
 
30 January 2012 @ 09:48 pm
Vincent found himself back in the hotel. Memories washed over him of the place he'd not been brought to in some time, but all of memories were as fresh as if he'd never left. Just as he was getting his bearings, Ergo Proxy took over.

The barely six foot ordinary man became an eight foot monster of charcoal black skin with blank white eyes in a face partially covered by a stark white mask. The tattered red weather-beaten cloak he wore gave him even more of an ominous presence.

He made his way by his own pace down the halls, occasionally opening doors that opened to re-acquaint himself with the place, and perhaps to relieve some boredom.

[ooc: A Re-l would be loved otherwise no character under 17 or that is cartoony for smut. Both genders as well as newbies and returnees all welcome. Also on Dreamwidth now http://the-love-hotel.dreamwidth.org/tag/series:+ergo+proxy]
 
 
Being 'out of control' isn't really something Bro looks forward to. In fact, losing control is way low on his list of 'things I want to try out one day'. It comes right after 'getting skinned alive by rabid wolves'.

Despite everything, a fact remains unchanged: he is somewhat out of his mind. He brushed against that sweet-smelling vine and, next thing he knows, there are vines holding on to his ankles and wrists - not too strong though, just enough to not let him go - and a rather intoxicating air is surrounding him and, soon enough, it reaches his nostrils. With that, his head begins to spin and his whole body starts burning from the inside and is directed to one thing only.

If only he could reach for the sword on his back, maybe he could try cutting those. But that little piece of flora definitely had other plans in mind before letting him go.

Yeah... He doesn't like this, and he can't fight it either, which is even worst. And to top it all he still has no fucking clue where he is. His only guess so far is that he is inside some greenhouse of hell. Or some hentai directed to a really specific demographic. it could go either way.


(( ooc: so yep, took me long enough to set up this account and join this place. Mostly because I was intimidated by this muse too much. But I told my insecurities to get lost and now I'm here. List of preferences and whatnot can be found here. Open to all the boys, and castmates are love <3 ))