#v: a god's mercy

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

idea: @v@ wanted to press the button but forever’s will was strong enough to stop her from hurting dapper for just long enough to save him

anon it would have been easier to shoot me in the heart

[burninq]

he debated showing up to Kai's place unannounced and alone, but then thought better of it. instead, he showed up unannounced and with a pretty little blonde thing who was more than happy to be in Calcifer's presence. actually, he had two little blonde things, one for each arm as he opens the door and calls out to his friend. "oh, Kaiiii !! i brought you a little gift.~" they were twins, the blonde things. he thought it was ironic- something that definitely wasn't going to get past Kai. maybe he'd get a good laugh out of it, too. he had to bring him something after Kai's new years present- it was only fitting to return a few days later with his own gift in tow. he thought it was pretty splendid- hopefully Kai will too.

@unsnare liked for a starter

[confessthysiins]

♱ indie & selective  OSWALD of CARIM of Dark Souls. some personal lore & canon divergence. sideblog to @henosiis. strictly 18+. written by kat!

EXPLORING sin, devotion, redemption, forgiveness, self-reflection, and loving what can never die.

♱ est. 2014 resurrected oct. 2021 ♱ affiliated with @sunmad

[dandelionjack]

toby whithouse toby whithouse. im travelling to the past and creating a new timeline in which he became the new showrunner to succeed moffat. bro understands the psychology and dynamics of these characters like he knows them in person . who else was doing it like him

[rabbits-of-negative-euphoria]

good song for today

[endawn]

still haven’t gotten through the game yet but i do want to say auri-el/akatosh was one of the forgotten ones. father of dragons and time ( though, tying him into cronos from my multi @oioend who’s the true embodiment of time lending their power ) that dipped out out and became the chief deity to a bunch of humans who some carry his blood

[nightmarecountry]

❛ Tell me you didn't think about me too. ❜ / from rome

"Romey, every thought I've ever had about you goes out of my mind the moment you finally wake up and I get to move onto other, more interesting dreamers," says the Corinthian pleasantly, wrapping its long arms around Roman's waist. It rests its chin on his shoulder, the two of them looking as one into the mirror ahead. "But enough about me. Let's talk about you--"

"Ah-ah." Cold hand gripping Roman's chin, forcing his gaze ahead when he tries--as always--to look away from himself. "Look. Tell me what you see."

[neiptune]

listen... as someone who hasn't read the manga this new aot trailer has fucked me up

[jungkookiexxx]

V x Elle Korea

[burninq]

"you're setting me on fire, i don't wanna fight it. you don't need a lighter; you're a flame."

@flappervcmp liked for a lyric starter.

[fatedefyd]

   @sunhalf​​  /  cont. !

   ❝ oh, totally. i’ve taken the heat for worse things. ❞ 

         Okay, maybe that’s not exactly true, but it’s the truth for the most part !  So that still counts for something, right ?  Either way, this timeline gained another foxy dragon-lady, so she sees this as a win !

         Although, just to lessen the amount of headaches caused by name confusion, her alternate has a bit of a point on that front.  A hum follows, head nodding along as the fanged one files through possible suggestions.  And then, OOP !  Droopy, green-striped ears perk as an idea forms.

   ❝ i could definitely cut your hair ! and i don’t mind going by Min-Min, if that helps, too ? ❞ 

[une-sanz-pluis]

The Southampton Plot in the Chronica Maiora

[Henry Scrope] was so highly regarded by the king that discussions on private or public matters were usually brought to an end by his verdicts. For in all his actions he showed such a restrained gravity and sanctity that the king judged that all his pronouncements should be carried out just as if they were oracles fallen from heaven. If an important embassy had to be sent to France, the king thought that Henry Scrope was the man who had the ability to perform this task. But all the while he was actually negotiating with the enemy, as a covert enemy of his own master, the king, and soothing the king with empty guarantees.He also deceived the council with empty promises, bringing back to both king and council delusory reports, a friend to his own side judging by his face, but in his heart a friend of the French. [1] Unaware of this the king had great confidence in him, on many matters entrusting himself to Henry’s judgement and giving him many special gifts. There was almost no Englishman, apart from his brothers, who was dearer to the king than that Henry Scrope, as the king had openly proved by the frequent exhibitions of his affection which he showed him.

But he made a wicked return for all these marks of esteem, for, just as his master, the king, was on the point of departing with his fleet prepared and his army collected, Lord Henry suddenly made ready to deprive him of his life by the sword, as he had been unable to do this by poison. In his support of the French he was contriving a double blow for his own country, for not only was he trying to kill its great king but also to ensure that all the equipment prepared for the war was destroyed. He had promised this to the French envoys, so the story goes, in return for a sum of money agreed on for the betrayal, and when the envoys now got back home, they brought their people such certain news from England that their report was that everything was quiet and peaceful and likely to help the French, as the king of England, following the terms of the agreement, had now changed his mind, and had either gone back to London, or at least, and this they thought more likely, had been killed. Lord Henry was joined in his treason by Richard, earl of Cambridge, brother of [Edward] the duke of York,1 and by Thomas Grey, a knight from the north. In fact it was the king who had made Richard an earl, enriching him with many goods and so honouring him by sitting next to him in parliament and other public places that he raised him above his other companions because of his birth and family. But no kindness shown, no benefit bestowed was able to prevent the traitors from taking up arms together to kill their great benefactor. So when they had put the finishing touches to their wicked plot, they approached the earl of March [Edmund Mortimer] with winning words and said they had formed a plan by which his own honour would necessarily be immensely increased, if only he would agree to their designs and confirm by taking a corporal oath that he would in no way reveal their plan.When he had done this, they said that they would suddenly kill the king with their swords and at once take the earl himself and elevate him to the throne of England. The young man shuddered with horror when he heard this, but on that occasion did not dare to oppose them or to say anything. But as soon as he could, when a suitable hour arrived, he went to the king and revealed to him the plot of these wicked men.[2] And so it happened that the traitors were arrested and condemned by the judgement of their peers. The king justly ordered their execution, after he had personally taxed Henry Scrope with ingratitude and asked him what he had received that they wished to kill him, after so many signs of gratitude from the king, which had not only been promised in light words but actually and as a matter of seriousness been carried out and performed. It is said that Henry, seeing that he would inescapably be executed, replied with just this one sentence, ‘I have sinned.’ When the king heard this reply, he went away weeping and sighing,[3] so that his royal person could have shown the truth of the verses once written about the goodness of Augustus Caesar by the poet Our prince is slow to punish, quick to reward, And when compelled to toughness, a man of grief.

[1] "There is no hard evidence to support the allegation that Scrope was in league with the French, but Walsingham here reflects a suspicion common amongst contemporary chroniclers: the author of the Gesta claims that Scrope and his co-conspirators were ‘tempted by the stench of French promises or bribes’. There seems to have been genuine surprise that a conspiracy should have been engendered inside Henry’s inner circle amongst men who had served him since his days as prince of Wales."

[2] "Mortimer revealed the plot to the king on 1 August. Perhaps he panicked but possibly he had been peripheral to its planning all along and was only apprised of the part he was to play at the last minute."

[3] "Henry may have been grief stricken by the fall of his friend, but his desire to punish him went beyond the scaffold; Scrope was denied his wish to be buried at York Minster and his head was displayed instead at Mickelgate. In contrast to the properties of his co-conspirators, his estates were seized by the crown and redistributed to beneficiaries outside his own family circle".

source: The Chronica Maiora of Thomas Walsingham, trans. David Preest, ed. James G. Clark (The Boydell Press 2005)

[endawn]

what makes it funny me having stendarr send a spirit of mercy to pax so he can finally be rid of hunger is the due to this:

[nightmarecountry]

Corinthian wants to ruin inhabit HIS perfectly nice dream? oh. Oh no. Nate's having none of it. He's grabbing the nearest thing and hitting out at the nightmare, seeking to get him right on the nose. "Bad. " He chastises. "If y'want to bite, you're gonna have to take me on a date and ask first."

"Ow," it complains, more with the air of someone being bothered by a fly than blatantly smacked in the face. He should know better than to snipe someone else's work--it's always harder to get the dreamer to adhere to his narrative, and not the story first imposed by the dream that found them first... which is probably why this little shit isn't pissing themselves with fear right now.

The Corinthian bares its teeth as it catches Nate's wrist, caught between being annoyed at having to work to frighten him, and privately pleased that there's a change in routine for once.

In his pre-Waking days, he might have felt shame at having fucked it up. Now, he's mostly just glad for the entertainment, whether it involves a dreamer hitting him or not--though he sincerely hopes Dream isn't keeping an eye on him. Not supposed to play with his food anymore.

"Don't be difficult." It grumbles, squeezing the wrist hard enough to make the bones ache. "This is going to end my way, whether you fight me or not."

[wingyattium]

*+ᵎᵎ 🍊⋅ ˚✮ — quiet ride | fred weasley.

+ᵎᵎ syn: a thirst about sneaking into fred’s room to ride him in the middle of the night 😮‍💨😩😵‍💫

+ᵎᵎ cont: approx. 0.9k, 18+, fem!reader, unprotected p in v, riding/cowgirl, hold the moan, dirty talk/language, pet names (love, doll), super horny!reader (ovulation mayhaps?), creampie, maybe a breeding kink if you squint, lmk if i missed anything.

+ᵎᵎ note: i’m so thirsty for him it’s not even funny.

the burrow was always so silent at night, the darkness narrated only by the shuffle of blankets and soft snores of its slumbering inhabitants; tonight was mostly the same— except for one section of the home.

soft pants, gasps, and whines flew from your lips as your hips dropped down on fred’s with dull, muted thuds — you knew you needed to be quiet, hyper aware of george sleeping only ten feet away, but it was so hard; he was filling you up so fucking good, stretching your sloppy walls and kissing your cervix every time he bottomed out.

“fuck, love, y’gotta be quiet,” fred whispered breathily, large hands bruising your undulating hips. “y’gonna wake up the whole house.”

of course, it was meant as a reprimand; but every soft moan and whisper of his name had fred’s cock kicking inside your pussy, betraying how much he really liked the sounds — but so did you.

you loved the small, slick squelches of his dick plowing into you; loved hearing his breath hitch when your cunt clenched around him; loved the soft, muted creaks of the bed frame as you rode his lights out.

it was so hot, your whole body flushed and buzzing, gut rolling and tense, pussy absolutely drooling around him; you needed him so bad, had wanted him all day. and now you had him, wholly and fully and deep.

there was no way you could keep quiet.

“i’m tryin’, fred.” you choked out softly, words hiccuped on a small moan. “b-but i can’t. your dick feels too good—!”

“fuck,” fred hissed, skull melting into his pillow and hips bucking up to shove himself deeper inside. “keep talkin’ like that and i won’t last long, at all, doll.”

you knew that already; you could practically feel fred leaking pearly pre into your walls, felt the twitch of his balls on every odd thrust, and his cock was so hard you thought it might be painful for him.

“hah, t-that’s okay,” you whined out, hips speeding up and slurping him inside a bit more noisily. “i jus’ wanna ride ‘til you bust.”

“shit, fuckin’ hell, you can’t jus’—!”

fred swallowed his words down immediately when a creak sounded from the other side of the room; the both of you stilled, frozen like ice, staring into one another’s wide gaze — there was a small shuffle before the noises quieted, and then there was just the light signature snore of george weasley.

you released a breath you hadn’t even known you’d been holding.

“maybe we should hurry this up, love?” fred suggested in a quiet whisper, and you nodded mutely — fred motioned for you to lay flat on him, and you did, relief sinking into your tired legs.

“might wanna bite down on something,” fred murmured as he adjusted himself beneath you, but rather than do that, you opted to simply nuzzle into his neck. the faint spice of his cologne lingered on the skin.

“oh, fuck!” you gasped when fred began fucking up into you at a near-brutal speed, his thrusts short and precise and — holy fuck, he was hitting every single sweet spot you had.

your eyes slid back into your skull as you whimpered and whined into his neck, pussy sloppy and fucked open over and over, fred panting and breathing heavy from the exertion — it was so hot, in so many ways.

“fuck, love, i’m — gods, i’m close,” fred warned, arms wrapped tight around your body and hips stuttering subtly. “shit, where should — where should i cum?”

fred always asked this question, always left you in charge of that — and tonight, you knew exactly where you wanted him to bust.

“inside, please, wan’ it inside!” you slurred out, body like liquid — fucked out and completely at fred’s mercy. fred hissed and his cock kicked against your velvet walls.

“are you — are you sure?” fred asked, voice seeming to border on an aroused whine. you nodded eagerly against him, heart picking up speed with each delicious slide of his cock; fuck, you just wanted to feel him fill you up. it’s all you needed.

fred was fucking you even harder now as his orgasm approached, thrusts wild and less pointed, balls twitching and throbbing — he was about to bust, and you were losing it.

“bloody — okay, fuck, yeah, i’ll do it inside. hah, gods, ‘m ‘bout t’cum— coming!” fred’s words were cut off by a guttural groan as he buried himself once, then twice, and one more time inside your pussy, then stilled as ropes shot from his cockhead. you swore you felt them splatter inside you, painting you completely as fred’s.

“hah, shiiiiit, fuck… ‘s so good, love. fuck me so good, don’t you…?” fred praised as he fucked into you shallowly, riding out the receding waves of his orgasm.

you weren’t sure why he was praising you when he did all the work; not that you minded though.

“‘m sleepy,” you mumbled into his neck, the realization hitting you at a rather random time; fred chuckled and brought a hand up to smooth through your hair, his lips connecting to your temple in a sweet kiss.

“then go to sleep, love. i’ll take of everything else, yeah?” was the last thing you heard as you drifted off, snug and comfortable atop fred’s lean body.