#oathisanoath

[pawnedprince]

❝ … damn you. ❞ ↣ @oathisanoath

" Damn me ?! " The bow string draws taught, a ticking clock now comes between them. He still recalls how Henry looked when he returned from Vranik; that alone is enough. The arrow trains itself with a steady aim — and though his aim is true, there is only so long he can stand here. He invites the man do make his move, if he so wishes. Call it the pounds of pressure he currently holds, but he doesn't know that he's ever felt hate like this: burning and incandescent, carrying that hate for those who no longer can. The clock ticks down, and Hans is sick of waiting. But he doesn't move, not until Erik does. " Rot in hell you foul bastard. "

[royalbstrd]

@oathisanoath liked for a starter forever ago

Hans was going to be mad once he figured out where Henry was actually going off to for a few days. He hadn't been happy when he originally left to go accept the duel with Erik so Henry couldn't bring himself to tell him he was chasing after a lead about the whereabouts of the man. The last loose end he had that needed tied up.

The closer he got and the more he thought about it, maybe everyone was right. He could've just dropped it. What was his beef with Erik anyway, just that he was associated with Istvan? He'd threatened Hans too though and it was his duty to protect him..

"You are not an easy man to find." Henry approached the man, hand instinctually on the hilt of his sword though he left it sheathed against his better judgement. Perhaps cold revenge didn't have to be the answer. What would getting himself possibly injured or dead solve? "We need to talk.."

[toloathe]

[text : istvan <3] gettin pulled by a cop with a camera crew. gonna flee. want my 15 min of fame on cops.

[ sms : mine ] what does this mean [ sms : mine ] erik what does this mean

[ofrataje]

@oathisanoath asked : [text : rich bitch] I'm at Home Depot to get supplies to fix the wall we cracked by fucking too hard against the bookshelf.

[text: the boyfriend❤️‍🔥💕] i told you that was going to happen. as usual, i was right [text: the boyfriend❤️‍🔥💕] but did anybody listen? no [text: the boyfriend❤️‍🔥💕] and now you get to spend the afternoon patching drywall [text: the boyfriend❤️‍🔥💕] we should do that again tho

[blacknighted]

@oathisanoath asked: ∗ 33﹕ sender  hovers  over  receiver’s  shoulder  as  they  complete  a  task . (Hes trying to learn) / 𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑳 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺: still accepting.

"...Sir?" Henry rouses. Before him, a whole bundle of flowers sits dizzyingly fragrant. Alas, even their hypnotic scent, unfortunately, could do little to pale the presence of this man at his back. It's hardly for the musk of him, however, what with those ominously earthy scents like smoke and war, but the breadth of his shadow is threatening before him. Peering up, Erik would seem the part of a lumbering goliath.

And honestly, when did goliaths last like flowers?

"I'm fixing up some remedies. I can't say I'd put a fire under a sawbone's feet, but I reckon I could fix you up in a pinch." Keep your cover, Henry. Eyes bright and innocent, the interloper, marigold petals honeyed at his nails, studies the leader. "You could vet me if you'd like. Seems you've a stubborn ache in your neck, Sir."

[vigilant-cleric]

@oathisanoath

___

Priesthood brought about a lot of restrictions, and with them, its lot of suffering. Among which were no handling of weapons, no handling of lovers, and theoretically, no handling of politics. That last part, of course, was absurdly wrong. What was the Church but politics? Ashen had never witnessed such different games at hand before, even when he handled the lands of the King. As a 'neutral' agent, he could now get anywhere; in-between battles, warring lands and closed frontiers.

He was needed anywhere a battle could be on the verge of happening. Always dressed rather curiously, with a kettle hat and cuirass worn over his cassock - he had little trust for stray hits not to happen, or for the good will of men in their father confessors. Either way, he had to be there, no matter the winning or losing side that day. Many men would breathe their last confessions to his ear - and they alone would see the end of war.

"Erik. It's a blessing to see you again, my son - you have survived last time. But you know that you may not have the same strike of luck today, if such is the Lord's will. Do you have anything to put right with Him?"

[toloathe]

He should have stopped the fight sooner.

Probably.

Or Erik should have ended it sooner. Either way, he would never admit out loud to enjoying that little scuffle between his Erik and Lord Capon, but truly, watching the boy get thrown around like a particularly unruly sack of hay had been one of the best things he'd seen for a long while. Even if the vantage point hadn't been perfect, it had been good enough. Good enough to see the fight,

Good enough to see the kiss.

What happened after that he couldn't say, the kiss had him turning from the banister he'd been leaning against, removing himself from the sight and the thought of it. He had better things to do than watch--

Whatever the hell that was. Erik could always be a little unpredictable in a fight but he hadn't been anticipating that.

By the time that Erik - his Erik - finds him in their shared room Istvan has long since sat aside his chaperon, book and paper and wine carefully set out on the table. He doesn't need to look to know the sound of the larger mans footsteps, the sound of his armor, so his attention remains perfectly pointed elsewhere.

" Have you finished with him, dear-- "

@oathisanoath Kisses Istvan while still having @pawnedprince blood on his lips.

Blood. Heavy, metallic near cloying in it's taste.

Concern floods through him, but when he looks the younger man over for any sort of injury that would cause a bleed like that and finds none? A grin stretches slow across his newly bloodied lips, tongue darting out just a moment before a gloved hand lifts to wipe that dark red away.

" Is that Capon you've just fed me? "