seventy-two pacts
have some sol thirst (i would go feral if this were me)
content + warnings: suggestive, solomon x reader, solomon has visible pact marks and reader does too
word count: 462
"damn."
the word comes out quickly, before you can even think. you cover your mouth in embarrassment-- justified, considering you couldn't keep your reaction in-- but you can't peel your eyes away.
solomon's peeling off his shirt. in the midst of joking around and pouring some for you two to enjoy, he'd knocked the rim of one of the glasses against the bottle, spilling it all down the front of his shirt. so, to avoid soaking himself further, he immediately began to take the long sleeved garment off.
then you said it, and now he's frozen, shirt halfway off.
can you blame yourself, though? you've seen your fair share of shirtless men, as is expected when living in the chaos of the house of lamentation. but they're all smooth-skinned and flawless. some of them have a couple of scars here and there from the great celestial war. their muscles were obviously impressive in their own right. but they all missed something that solomon had-- something you're just now seeing for the first time.
swirling black lines run across his pale skin, curling around muscles, decorating the smooth planes of skin in intricate designs. from across the table, you can make out little latin characters. pact marks. a lot of them. the ornate symbols decorate the exposed part of his lower abdomen, luring you in with strange words and beautiful lines before disappearing beneath his beltline. do they-- do they follow his v-line? holy shit, you're about to start drooling--
"haha, mc, my eyes are up here!"
his charming, light laugh catches your attention. his eyes are sparkling with mirth, lips curled into a cheshire grin as he removes the rest of his shirt and bunches it in his hand.
the pact marks dance up across his broad shoulders and down his arms. they're gorgeous, arcane and mystical as they sprawl down his biceps and spill onto his forearms. you've seen his sleeves rolled up before, so you knew he had a few pact marks, but-- 72 pacts never looked so damn good.
the seven pact marks on your skin had always been a point of your own fascination. but seeing the sigils on solomon's skin made you wonder if you'd ever be covered the same way.
"i need a new shirt," he declares, smirking at you. he take a couple steps towards his room, then stops when he sees you still at the table. "c'mon."
"huh?" you feel like you've missed something.
"you think you've seen all of my pact marks? no, my dear apprentice, i have plenty more where that came from. and since you're so curious, i figured i might as well show you."
you scurry up from your spot and follow him like the obedient little apprentice you are.
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DP x DC Tattoos and Crimelords
Just this idea I had that’s kind of cute
Jason doesn’t feel comfortable in his body, in his own skin. He hasn’t since he came back to life. It’s something he just had to deal with while working on his plans, but now that the dust has settled and he’s actually living a life again, it weighs on him.
the thing that bothers him the most is the autopsy scar
So despite what he knows Bruce would say, he wants a tattoo. A mark he can choose, to reclaim his body as his own. Sure, it’s a very distinctive mark that could connect his civilian identity with his night life, but his armor covers almost all of his skin. If someone can see his body like that, he is probably already not in a good situation.
Danny is a tattoo artist. His hero days are long behind him, and having barely scraped through high school because of the ghosts, he didn’t have a lot of options. He spent some time traveling with Dani, backpacking across the world, moving from one grand adventure to the next. They had gone to the convention on a whim. Danny had been amazed at the artwork and skill of the tattoo artists there. There was something so beautiful about it all, beyond just the artwork. He could see the love of the craft these artists shared, and the joy and pride their clients had to be wearing their art.
Danny wanted that to be him.
Danny managed to snag an apprenticeship with one of the artists there. He was a Gotham native and if Danny wanted to learn from him, Danny needed to live n Gotham. So Danny did. Dani, parted ways with him, still not done with her journey, but she promised to visit.
That was a few years ago, now Danny was happy where he was in his (half)life. Covered in ink with his own shop.
And then an absolute tank of a man walked in by the name of Jason, wanting his first tattoo.
or
Danny became a tattoo artist and Jason decides to get some ink in an effort to reclaim his body. As Jason’s collection of tattoos grows, something grows between him and his artist. Is it friendship, or something more?
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Steddie AU where they meet cause Eddie stumbled into his neighbour's (Steve's) apartment at 3am drunk after a gig as his key for some reason works on Steve's door and Steve wound up knocking him out with a frying pan Rapunzel style.
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