MILLIONS

[ cherry ]  what is one thing you love about yourself? [ crimson ]  what is one thing you wish you could change about yourself? [ scarlet ]  what is one thing you wish you could do? [ ruby ]  give one random fun fact about yourself. [ tangerine ]  do you speak other languages? if yes, which? [ amber ]  which is your favorite season? why? [ bronze ]  if you were stranded on a deserted island, which three things would you want to have with you? [ apricot ]  what do you think your life will be like in ten years? [ canary ]  do you have pets? if yes, how many and what? [ lemon ]  do you believe in ghosts? how about aliens? [ bumblebee ]  where have you always wanted to travel to? [ blonde ]  what is your favorite type of music? favorite artist? favorite song? [ lime ]  describe yourself as a character / mix of characters you've always related to the most. [ emerald ]  bonus round: coffee or tea? morning or night? extroverted or introverted? hot or cold? fruits or vegetables? sweet or salty?

[ mint ]  when did you start your blog? what made you start it? [ olive ]  what gives you the most inspiration for your muse(s)? [ cerulean ]  what is your favorite ( type of ) character to write? [ teal ]  which fandom has been your favorite to be a part of? which has been the least favorite? [ azure ]  is there a specific character or type of character you want to write but never have? why? [ navy ]  what do your muse(s) mean to you? [ indigo ]  when did you first start writing / roleplaying? [ denim ]  have you ever roleplayed on any other site(s) besides tumblr? [ mauve ]  give one random headcanon about your muse / one of your muses. [ lavender ]  if you could change one thing about the rpc as a whole, what would it be? [ plum ]  are you more of a dialogue or a description writer? [ mulberry ]  what tips would you give someone with writer's block? [ coral ]  give a shoutout to one of your favorite blogs. [ fuchsia ]  bonus round: angst or fluff? one-liners or paras? plotting or winging it? memes or starter calls? single muse or multimuse?

Still feels pain. Even if, given focus, he can work around it. Work through it. Twist it.

The bones of his wrist creak under Knives's grasp, even with the desperate internal fight to prevent his tendons from locking and worsening the green-stick fractures that are altogether just as painful to heal as they are to receive.

Training kicks in over the cascading rush of adrenaline. He submits to the dip, more flexible than a man of his bulk ought to be, clunky and clumsy in comparison to preternatural grace.

"If I went to battle with someone's herd of cattle, you'd have steak when the job was done," he lilts, leaning into crisp pronunciation and a deeper twang than he naturally possesses. "But if shot the herder, they'd lock me up for murder, 'cause you can't shoot a male in the tail like a quail--" Lost Tech-augmented firearms, rifled bores, produce prodigious heat. It's even starker, hotter, compared to the chill of the room, but even with a rasp entering his voice between pressure and sizzle, he finishes the verse, free hand overturned with a flourish, "--Oh you can't get a man with a gun."

Dead. He's dead for his defiance, even if something waggish and irreverent bares its fanged teeth in a madling grin. Better to smile and bear it through the hate and rage and shame. He has so much to live for. Count the reasons for survival and they all have names, even if his own days are numbered.

Knives's gaze may as well be barbs wrapped around his heart, and this contact is considered the highest of blessings in these halls.

It is all he can do not to stumble when set back to his feet, and he refrains from rubbing his wrist - not that he has complete motor control regardless - instead flexing his fingers in a kinesthetic check.

Not dead yet.

An odd reward for failing to shed the erstwhile demiurge's blood. He looks past the finger to the radiant face, skin prickled cold-hot-cold as he tips a nod.

It isn't even the illusion of choice.

"In nomine Domini."

Training. Rote. Understood. He cannot afford to be too flippant with the layers of the Eye here, lest he be flensed apart. Curiosity glints in dark eyes behind the skew of dark glasses.

"Anything more specific will help to pick up the scent. Better to get it from the one who knows him best."

"He thinks humans will understand and accept him... And I have nothing but the highest hopes that your species will prove him wrong. Time after time, after time and again. In fact, I'm confident in this."

The artificial light pouring into the room from the doorway is blocked by the figure of what appears to be a young girl with an asymmetrical bob, the pallid tone of her hair eerily similar to Knives' own. The independent makes a pleased noise of acknowledgment, gesturing for her to enter.

"Ah, wonderful timing. There's someone that I've just been dying for you meet-" he continues, kneeling to scoop the child into his waiting arms.

"Elendira, this is Nicholas."

Elendira glances over Wolfwood like one might a piece of roadkill festering on the asphalt, her little upturned nose held high and haughty. Dainty fingers twirl at the loose waterfall of curls spilling down Knives' shoulders, her lips pursing tight with unvoiced distaste.

"Now now, dear, don't hide. He won't be able to see how pretty you are," he chides softly, using his index and middle fingers to push her bangs behind the shell of her ear.

Knives glances at Wolfwood from the corner of his right eye, another suspicious looking smile twisting his features into something visibly pleasant yet vaguely menacing.

The girl presses closer to Knives even as she finally faces the shabby looking priest head on, her eyes narrowing just slightly. One mirrors the frosted sapphire of her apparent guardian while the other is a more than familiar rich, deep brown.

The blonde continues to smile in silence, though he does briefly chastise his 'daughter' with a disapproving noise when she sticks her tongue out at Wolfwood and buries her face against his shoulder.

But how do you kill that which is not alive?

(How can he return to that not-life, that half-life, when he has seen, when he has been Perceived?)

The path to this point is a hazy scrabble-scratch, wild and wandering, something cold and irresistible in his blood and in his bones dragging him forward--something hard and sharp and ready to strike, to ring like steel.

But mired. Mired in something gelid.

Trigger finger swift. Not swift enough. (You can choose a different way, whispers the angel on his shoulder.) He strikes. He strikes something. The bark of the firearm echoes, echoes, ringing lost in the bellows hiss of vapor.

It's cold here. Cold in this place. Cold, cold. Conrad's blessings were always cold. Ice water in his veins. Cold metal, cold scalpels, liquid nitrogen cold blazing hallowed profanity on naked skin, the litany on his tongue. The heat of his breath curls like smoke from around bared teeth.

And Knives is there. Looming and towering even if they stand eye to eye, a presence like a smothering pall.

Terrible and beautiful. He's there, so like his twin, and yet uncannily not - more a figure carved of marble and diamond than a being of flesh and blood, demanding a different sort of love, a different sort of peace.

Knives is there, and the chains of conditioning command that Nicholas kneel. Prostrate. Bow. Avert his gaze, gouge out his eyes, because how dare. How dare he look on the immaculate--

(That isn't his voice. That isn't His voice either. Are there golden eyes looking on, seething with jealous fury, stayed only by proximity to this Angel of God?)

"...regular Annie Oakley," he rasps, finding his voice dragged guttural through the chill aching in his bones. He remains standing for now, somehow. Maybe thanks to the talisman holstered at the small of his back. An object recovered from a crater of glittering glass.

Maybe it is just Knives's whim. A few extra heartbeats. A few extra seconds for electrical flashfire and chemical to crash together between instinct and reason.

"Not like you to insult yourself."

You aren't a man, after all.

The psychic resonance is overwhelming. He can feel it in the hollows of his lungs, the gaps between his ribs, in his sinuses, between his ears. Finger off the trigger, he cannot seem to drop his gun arm and cannot wrench his eyes away. Transfixed.

Ensnared.

Trapped.

He never did well in cages despite how many months, years, he spent in them. He just learned to bide his time. Not that he has a choice in the matter here, now. If he is to survive.

Knives grips Wolfwood's wrist hard enough to hurt, though his expression isn't that of anger- If anything, it's probably more disturbing that he seems pleased. An arm slides around the human's waist as he dips the other male, an intimate gesture given sinister purpose as he twists Nicholas' arm until the barrel of the gun kisses the underside of his chin, glossy facial hair losing it's sheen as the heat from the discharged bullet curls and singes each strand.

"You are useful to me, now that you've given me reason to admire your skills. Cowardly, but effective once given a direction and a task, you came across as more blunt instrument than a proper tool one could implement various uses for- With the right finesse. You came all this way, slipped past my barbed defenses enough to attempt a coup of sorts... I'm impressed."

He smiles and it's all straight, evenly spaced ivory teeth but the mirth doesn't quite reach the eyes- they remain layered, frosted over pools of pale blue and if a stare could harm, it'd be skewering Wolfwood straight through.

"So impressed that I am going to entrust you with that which is very, very dear to me-" he continued, righting them both and wresting the gun away to turn it over in his hands, letting the shine of metal catch the light.

"My dearest younger sibling is, no doubt, currently hiding himself amongst your kind. You're going to sniff him out," he explains, flicking his finger against the tip of Nicholas' hawkish nose.

"Take care of him, gain his trust enough to lead him back to me: An escort mission, if you will. Do this for me."

personally ,   i’m  tired  of  the  secondhand  embarrassment.   so  here’s  a  random  assortment  of  nsfw  actions  and  dialogue  prompts  that  don’t  feel  too  over  the  top.   (  don’t  forget  to  add  [ reverse ]  if  you’d  like  to  see  the  receiver  perform  the  action.  )

actions.

[ PULL ]:  sender  pulls  receivers  hair.

[ HICKEY ]:  sender  gives  receiver  a  hickey.

[ TRAIL ]:  sender  leaves  a  trail  of  kisses  down  receivers  stomach.

[ HIPS ]:  sender  pulls  receiver  in  closer  by  the  hips.

[ KNEES ]:  sender  lowers  themselves  to  their  knees.

[ STRIPTEASE ]:  sender  teasingly  strips  their  clothes.

[ STRIP ]:  sender  undresses  receiver.

[ GRIND ]:  sender  grinds  on  receivers  thigh.

[ ORAL ]:  sender  goes  down  on  receiver.

[ PASSENGER ]:  sender  touches  receiver  while  sender  is  driving.

[ DRIVER ]:  sender  goes  down  on  /  touches  receiver  while  receiver  is  driving.

[ OVERSTIMULATED ]:  sender  repeatedly  making  receiver  orgasm.

[ PUBLIC ]:  sender  and  receiver  have  sex  somewhere  public.

[ CAR ]:  sender  and  receiver  have  sex  in  a  car.

[ CONTROL ]:  sender  is  riding  receiver  and  receiver  takes  control  by  guiding  their  hips.

[ SHY ]:  sender  covers  their  face  and  receiver  moves  their  hands  away.

[ EYES ]:  sender  makes  receiver  look  them  in  the  eyes.

[ BEG ]:  sender  begs  receiver  to  touch  /  fuck  them.

[ MORNING ]:  sender  wakes  receiver  up  with  sex.

[ STRADDLE ]:  sender  sits  in  receivers  lap  to  tease  them.

[ CAMERA ]:  sender  records  receiver.

[ RECORD ]:  sender  is  recorded  by  receiver.

[ MOUTH ]:  sender  puts  their  fingers  into  receivers  mouth.

[ LOVE ]:  sender  tells  receiver  they  love  them  during.

[ PUSH ]:  sender  pushes  receiver  onto  bed.

dialogue.

“ you  look  so  pretty  like  this.  “

“ i  want  to  spend  all  night  learning  every  sound  you  make. “

“ let  me  take  care  of  you. “

“ i’m  not  wearing  any  underwear  right  now. “

“ you’re  really  good  at  that. “

“ god,  you’re  so  wet  /  hard  …. “

“ i  think  about  you  when  i  touch  myself. “

“ tell  me  what  you  want. “

“ please  touch  /  fuck  me. “

“ i  love  teasing  you. “

“ touch  yourself  for  me. “

“ i  get  so  wet  /  hard  around  you. “

“ get  on  your  knees. “

“ you’re  such  a  tease. “

“ tell  me  you’re  mine. “

“ i’m  yours. “

“ i  want  you  to  cum  for  me. “

“ i  want  you  to  cum  in  me. “

“ i’ll  be  good,  i  promise. “

“ you’re  doing  so  good  for  me. “

“ you  feel  so  good. “

“ you  sound  so  pretty  when  you  moan. “

“ i  could  be  your  toy. “

“ fuck  me  like  you  love  me. “

“ i’m  gonna  cum- “

“ i  just  want  to  feel  something. “