#holysound

[rclldamage]

The tavern downstairs had become a muffled mingle of noise. It was a small blessing since most of the wooden floorboards had been so thinly crafted that travelers could hear everything that went on downstairs. In the solace of the private room, Wyatt’s had felt comfortable enough to rest on the bed in the nude. His muscular frame lit by flickering candlelight. He could feel the knots in his body from the stress of travel, the training, and the nerves of the Oath he was to take in the coming days. It was enough to warrant him to bury his face in the pillows and disappear. But, the gods smiled on him and granted him a small reprieve.

He felt the slick oil against his smooth skin and the strong fingers that worked against the very knots that bundled up in his muscles. Strong hands that Wyatt would push into the moment the right spot had been worked and pulled out a very vocal moan. Gods, he needed those hands on his body. The pressure working down his broad shoulders, the center of his spine, and over the heft of his backside. A small chuckle and a hiss escaped him while Theodore worked. Wyatt felt relaxed. Each knot worked out sent a wave of euphoria throughout his body.

“Hm,” he uttered. Oh, his body reacted to the touch. Even as he sat up, rolled onto his back and looked up at the young man, it was rather evident how relaxed he had been. His member thick between his legs, engorged and pulsating with need as clear beads rolled in copious amounts down the heft of his shaft. His blue eyes burned brightly in the candlelight while he stared up at Theodore with the same crooked smile. Slowly, he took the man’s hand and guided it over the smooth plain of his stomach, over his chest and his arms.

Wyatt released him and sat up, grabbing him by the waist and manipulated him to sit in his lap. His arousal pressed strategically to the cleft of Theodore’s ass. He raised up and started to kiss, suckle and nip at the young man’s throat all while his large hand moved around to knead at one plump check. Tongue traced up, across the jaw and back down again over the man’s adam’s apple before he leaned back down, arm resting under his head. As he stared up at the man, he could hear the spirit bound to him whisper its desire to him. Wyatt obeyed.

Theodore would find himself on his back, legs spread around Wyatt’s thick waist, his arousal grinding slowly down into him as he moved his hips in slow circles. He hummed to himself, staring down at the man before a soft laugh escaped him and he lowered his head to whisper into his ear. “Beg me to own you,” he rumbled.

answered asked for @holysound.

[rclldamage]

Should he care or send help to claim the young man ? Since the moment he had tracked the fiend to the location and saw Roy impressed, bound with coarse ropes, he had fought the instinct to allow the young man to remain bound. Elijah was no champion for those in need of aid. He was a man who was cursed by the very power he wielded to save him. Yet, the blood that ran through his body sang to a higher calling. Even the guardian who whispered to him urged him to save the man. Allow him to live and continue and thrive. To him, his celestial blood was the curse. Ancestry locking him away to a path that most believed he should follow without question. It was only a few seconds, but stretched on for an eternity for him.

Fuck, he growled under his breath. His fingers gripped the shaft of the glaive so tightly that knuckles turned pale and appeared pale red with the glowing crackle of red electricity that hummed and snapped from the metal of the blade. He peered over his shoulder at the man. Elijah could still find a use for him and there could be a reward for his return. Slowly, he stepped over the dead fiend and approached Roy with his weapon spinning between his callous fingers - striking the bindings that held Roy and cutting him free. Quickly, he pulled forward and caught him as he collapsed into his strong arms. Spinning his body, Elijah lowered to his knee and took the man with him, leaning him against his thigh and peering down at him with a coy smile.

“ Today is your lucky day,” Elijah mused, “I often charge extra for recuse and … “ He trailed off, a warm light emitting from his palm while he ran it slowly down from the man’s throat to rest on his stomach. Slowly, the radiant energies provided by his celestial bloodline melded into Roy’s skin and pulsated throughout his form, healing him of his minor injuries, “ a chance to have me feel you up. “ His hand ran back over his torso to rest at his throat, thumb rested against his pulse. “ Unless you have a fetish for being tied down.” 

answered for @holysound

[rclldamage]

The creature would not be felled so easily with mundane means. Elijah had grown fatigued in the exchange but most of all annoyed by how the scale mail that donned his torso had been damaged. Ringlets clattered on the stone ground much as rain droplets would fall against the earth. There had been only one option. He made it without hesitation. When the creature had lunged for the stranger, Elijah took the blade of his glaive and ran it across his palm with a loud hiss. As the blood seeped from the wound, he raised his palm forward and enacted the blood curse from his own vitaly into the monster. Its eyes fogged and clouded with crimson. Blinded. Before recovery was an option, Elijah dragged the blade across the back of his hand, coating the sharpened edge with his own blood. The crimson rite had caused the metal to crackle with electricity. Each strike against the creature charged and bursting with crimson electric energies.

When the beast laid slain, Elijah moved away from the corpse. The handle of his sparking glaive made a deep trench along the ground as he dragged it behind himself to a fallen over log where he rested. He had believed that he had kept his damaged hand away from eye sight, away from the eyes of Lambert, until the other had made mention of the blood. His retainers were nowhere in sight to use as a distraction. And out in the wilderness, he made sure that no one knew how much weight his name would carry within a glided and guarded cityscape. No, he doubts that a man such as him would even listen should he give orders from him to ignore it.

He snorted softly. There’s not much to it then to reveal the bloodied hand as casually as it was to breathe in the very air. “ I was not as quick and the beast had a taste of me, “ Elijah lied. Though he believed it had been a convincing one, the markings on palm and back of hand were too clean and precise to be from a tooth or claw. “ Needn’t worry, all I need to do is fetch a potion from my bag and right as rain. “

answered for @holysound. Blood Maledict, Blood Curse of the Eyeless, & Crimson Rite used for prompt. Deception Check roll: 8.

[spitbullets]

❛ wanna try a new position? ❜ soapy and piers

🐝  *  ―  𝑨𝑺𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻.

Soap's eyes rolled until he was looking at Piers. "Ye' think you're so fuckin' funny," he grumbled under his breath. Yes, it was boring as hell laid here on the roof on sniper duty when nothing was happening but he could live without the double entendre jokes. "Fine, you wanna switch positions and have your dick in the dirt, be my guest." Sitting up he took the binoculars off Piers and nodded for him to get down beside the rifle. "Go on, ye' smart arse."

[spitbullets]

🔑    .ft piers and ghost

Aggression // Sexual Tension

Pinning @holysound sent🔑 // handcuff my muse

"You treat other soldiers like this?" Ghost couldn't believe he took the bait, Piers had managed to distract him and then pounce on him fast enough to cuff him. This has only happened to him three other times in his life and the last one, well after that was when he started wearing the mask.

In fact, he was still wearing it now.

He could get up out of this chair and fight like hell, probably break loose if he tried hard enough but he was forcing himself to be calm, patient, waiting to see where Piers was going with this. Being cuffed like this was triggering, it threatened to send his thoughts spiraling but he kept his cool. He'd been trained for this. No matter how painful or traumatizing, he couldn't break like he'd seen so many other people do in this line of work.

"If you don't explain yourself in the next two minutes, I'm going to get antsy and trust me, mate, that won't end well for either of us."

[spitbullets]

" here i am... hoping you're one of the good guys." .ft piers and ghost

a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I posted a meme that @holysound somehow found

A lot of soldiers are young, it's not a kind job for anyone, much less those creeping up in years. It's why not many stick around long enough to receive those top-rank positions. Simon knows his clock is ticking too but this soldier he just found looks just like a kid. More baby-faced than what he usually deals with and yet he's already on BSAA Special Forces if the intel is good, so either he's a little older than he looks or is a fucking child prodigy with a sniper rifle.

"Nivans." It's a statement, not a question. He knew who he was coming in for. He considers Piers' comment for a moment and wonders if Nivans was prepared for what "help" might look like. A lot of times people see a heavily armed man in a skull mask and piss themselves on sight. A trained soldier like Piers doesn't spook that easy but he might be wondering if he drew the short straw in terms of reinforcements.

"I am a "guy" if that makes you feel any better. "Good" is getting a little too existential. I am sent by a friend of a friend, our C.O.s are old pals apparently." He glanced Piers over for injuries, he looked a bit worse for wear but ultimately alright.

"Now, if you're not broken," Simon handed a rifle to Piers, "hear you're a pretty good shot so on me, and we'll be out of here and telling tales over a pint in no time."

[bigidiotenergytm]

❛ don’t even think about it. ❜ .ft steve rogers and billy russo

the punisher.

"What? Me?" There's a playful chuckle as both hands are suspended in the air. They feign compliance. ... as much compliance as that of the hand still holding his bowie knife. Say, it is quite the surprise when the one true Captain America has come to stop him. Rogers wasn't quite the vet that Jigsaw was gunning for, but as he directs him to not think at all... he can't help but make his mind wander.

He wonders what it'd take for Captain America to scream.

There were two henchmen at his side. The others must have been defeated on the trek here. How unfortunate. As the man before them should make any reasonable man shake in his boots, Jigsaw only saw ample opportunity.

"You mean... think about gunning down all the hostages? Slaughtering them all like pigs just because? Innocent families? Wives? Children?" He's sure it's bound to get under Steve's skin just as much as it gets down in Frank Castle's. They're simple men when it comes down to it. "No... I wouldn't think about doing that at all. YOU, on the other hand... what's a little more blood on your hands, hm?"

[bigidiotenergytm]

❛ you can call me whatever you want, baby. ❜ .ft loki and shade

more smut

PEST.

It's all that he can acquaint to the modern-day gods; having faded from their rule of the Earth as centuries passed. Shade had had his fair share of encounters with these 'gods'. No matter who had come his way— all the celestial could think of was how their presence and reign could never even come close to his own. In the end, they'd succumb to the Darkness alongside the mortals.

Despite Shade's clear grievances with those equating themselves to the likes of him— there seemed to be some unspoken agreement that he would not target them, even if the power that would come with such a thing would be worth far more than what mortals could provide. They take that agreement, that compromise, and mistake it for immunity. They can't even begin to comprehend the vision Shade has for their end.

That to say, Shade has the unfortunate pleasure of meeting the God of Mischief. He's aware of his antics. And it seems that despite the time that has passed since their first meeting, Loki has yet to realize that all the celestial could do was look down upon him.

"You address me by Shade or King, runt." He'll hiss out. Arms remain behind his back to indicate that the only threatening to be done was through his harsh words.