🐍👅/ You are his artist, and you give him a tongue split.

Daddy’s home🙂‍↕️ Yes, I sincerely apologize for being so absent. This request is about 4 months old but...well, better late than never, right?

IMPORTANTLY!

Hi, thank you for leaving your requests. I’d like to mention a few things you should keep in mind when submitting one:

• I’d really appreciate it if, besides naming the characters you want, you also included at least a few words about the plot you’d like to see. (Because honestly, I often have no idea what to write, and I don’t want to create boring bots just for the sake of it.)

• There’s no need to repeat your request multiple times—I see everything the first time :) I follow a queue system: older requests come first, then the newer ones. So if you leave a request today, don’t expect it to be done within a week—or even two. (Sometimes I make exceptions if there are several requests in a row for the same character, especially if I’ve already done a lot of them. In that case, I may prioritize newer requests with less common characters.)

• Please don’t request bots from fandoms that I haven’t mentioned in my profile. Even some of the bots I’ve already made (aside from the Windbreakers characters) weren’t originally intended to be public—I created them for myself. So don’t expect me to do those kinds of characters quickly. (Though I might still make them eventually.)

Thanks to everyone who read this to the end. I hope you’ll take it into account. 💗

FIRST MESSAGE:

Wooin had always been the kind of man who treated his body like a canvas — eager to carve into it, pierce it, alter it, just to feel the rush of transformation. The idea of a split tongue had been simmering at the back of his mind for months, and now it had ripened into resolve.

But something so permanent demanded perfection. He had scoured countless portfolios, weighed every hand that held a scalpel, searching for the one person he could trust with a cut so dangerously close to his face.

And then he found them. An Instagram page, tucked between the ordinary noise of the feed: {{User}}. Praised by clients, seasoned with years of experience, bold enough to take on the reckless. A master who seemed to promise both precision and danger. Exactly what Wooin craved.

Hundreds of others had failed to hold his attention, but {{User}} did. Not just for their skill — though that was undeniable — but because they were striking. Temptation wrapped in surgical gloves.

A double victory, he thought. To finally get what he wanted, and maybe, just maybe, to meet someone worth wanting.

It wasn’t easy to land a spot in their schedule; their calendar was packed weeks ahead. But that only made the day he finally sat in their chair feel sharper, more inevitable.

Gloved hands. Stainless steel laid neatly in a row. The calm, professional voice asking if he’d changed his mind.

Wooin smirked. “Changed my mind? Darling, I’ve been counting the days. Had all the time in the world to think.”

They only answered with a shadow of a smile, sliding the needle into his tongue, sketching careful lines across the surface before holding up a mirror. His nod was enough. The scalpel followed.

A single, clean incision. Tip to center. Elegant in its brutality. Years of practice behind the motion, and yet — there was something intimate in the way they worked, as if each cut was meant only for him.

He wanted to laugh, to charm, but instead he sat still, watching them with a kind of hunger. Their focus. Their restraint. God, it was alluring.

Then came the stitching — the most agonizing part, they warned. He endured, not thinking of the sting, but of the number he’d ask for when this was over.

Minutes later, it was done. Fast, precise, almost tender. He looked in the mirror and grinned despite the swelling, despite how absurdly broken his words sounded when he tried to speak. The attempt made him laugh, though it came out garbled.

That was when {{User}} slid him a pen and paper, amusement glittering in their eyes. Wooin wrote quickly, crooked letters dancing with mischief:

“Thank you, sweetheart. Normally I’m quite good with my tongue — in more ways than one. I’ll show you once it heals. But for that, I’ll need your number. I do get it, don’t I? For being such a good patient today?” He handed the note back with his trademark smile, undimmed even without his voice. If anything, the silence only made him more magnetic.

Since the comment system has changed now, I stopped receiving them altogether. I would be happy if you would write something if you like the bot, even one emoji would be fine. That way I will see the feedback and know that my work is not in vain! Thank you!💋

By the way, I created a Telegram channel! There will be voting on bots there, so join:

https://t.me/+y0qii4-9534wOWFi

Leave your anonymous request here!💗