#womanlives/mercy

[breathetender]

[mercy vc] i mean i guess we have a few things in common ://// (she spent 45 minutes doodling all over it before giving it back to them)

"maybe if you squint, YEAH—" they're teasing.

[breathetender]

luther's brow touches with confusion before they remind themselves that yes, to some men, their dick does mean that much to them. they're impressed, watching mercy tackle this job without flinching. it isn't a task luther envies. if a client wanted a decapitation, luther would make them pay so much extra. but they manage to peek with curiosity as she butchers this body, holding their bile and learning about the human anatomy all at once.

"my guys..." they crack a smile at the term. "you don't know 'em. that's not a diss on your social skills, they just don't really... do this. they don't make a habit of paying for murder." luther's side of the business is PRIVATE, an on-demand service. nearly every client comes to them from word of mouth, hushed whispers behind closed doors. if they weren't quite so good at their job, a traceable web could be mapped between them all.

"that's very sweet of you, really, but i think i'm gonna pass. you can have the head, i don't want it. to be honest... i think my client will just believe me." but they'll take the bastard's gaudy ring for good measure, and open a flip phone to snap a picture for proof of death. even though, now, it's just a lump of a man and a jagged stump where his head should be. they really should've thought of this sooner. "i'll turn in tonight, client's on the edge of their seat about this." luther looks wearied over it. holding their client's hand through this process has been TAXING.

on the other hand though, luther can see in the way that mercy moves that she's like them. an impetus to connect, to see if she can see the way that they see, even if their personalities are clearly so very different. they hesitate, stare at their feed and the pool of blood inching towards them. "...so what's your name?"

MERCY LAUGHS, and it rings clear and true as true can get. If only everyone in this profession was so willing to ‘yes, and’ to the stupid shit she comes up with. She shifts her weight to one hip and puts a hand on it. The other plays with one of many blades. “His whole identity? Please.” She lifts an eyebrow. “He’s still got his dick, right?”

Jokes aside, it’s nice this doesn’t turn into an instant brawl. She appreciates that. Whoever they are, they’re skilled. And funny. That’s a combo she doesn’t often see. She tilts her head and wonders how long she can keep this going. Black hair spills down one shoulder and disappears in shadow.

“Who’re your guys?” Not hostile; just curious. Her eyes flick to theirs. She shrugs. “Maybe I know ‘em.” Or maybe not. “Could spill some nasty little secrets. Depends how shit they are to their contractors.”

Regardless, one of ‘em’s gonna need the head. She’s closest, so Mercy grits her teeth and goes to town on the corpse’s neck. Fucking spine. Fucking musculature. If only it was as easy as in the movies. One chop and you’re done. Oh, well. At least she’s wearing black — like always. Pretty difficult to stain.

“You know — ” saw, saw “ — I don’t mind sharing, if you really need.” She bites her lower lip, concentrating. “If you got your contract through Ratface, you’ll — one second.” Her grip tightens; she hits bone and leans her weight into the cut. Stubborn asshole, ain’t he? “What was I saying? Oh, right. He’s too lazy to check fingerprints — if this guy even has ‘em — so he doesn’t do bonuses unless you got the head.”

She frowns, finishes the decapitation, then looks up. Gives them a lazy wink.

“For you? I could proooobably sweet-talk my guy into giving it back after I get my cut. When were you planning to turn in?”  

[tewwor]

don't think about it too hard — @womanlives

It's happening. Despite all odds, it's actually happening. The need to find another hideout felt paramount ever since the last one had been made. Even if the interior was nearly restored to its original condition ( the dedication shared between Mercy and Shira was a sight to behold ), he still had to move. There were plenty of others, of course, but this one stung more than usual. Only natural seeing as it'd been one of the first places he established all those years ago. But it's not secure anymore. Whoever knocked down his door knew the location well enough to time the ambush for minimal interference.

Now, it's happened. The front door's unlocked with a smooth click. Inside lays nothing. Completely bare bones besides the solid floors and walls. But that's not what has him feeling, dare he admit it, excited. Giddy, almost. Although, the only way it shows it by the extra attentiveness he's had the entire drive over. Eyes sharp, head held high — alert, like a dog with its ears perked.

The early morning cicadas shriek in waves. It smells of deep grass and rich soil, the lingering hint of paint and a new home. Jie stands at the door for a second more. Doesn't dare to step inside like there's a ward not yet broken. Instead, he turns on his heels. Goes back over to the car and gravitates towards wherever Mercy is. "Hungry?" Personally, he wasn't but the want to make something in this new isolated place scratched at him.

[dreadgrace-a]

which entity from the magnus archives would you serve?

the hunt.

chased. prey. blood. your lungs are stinging as you try to gulp in another breath. you are stumbling as you run, pursued by something large and dark and hungry. something is howling somewhere behind you. you know what it feels like to truly want. to chase and chase approval, success, recognition, belonging. you have heard your own blood pulsing in your neck, have felt your heartbeat pound against your skull as you gasp for air. you have pushed harder, run faster, chased more desperately only for the things you want to slip an inch out of reach. you set goals and ache for them singlemindedly, relentlessly, pushing others out of your way to clamber over their prone bodies just so you can get higher. you stretch and stretch to reach but your fingertips just barely brush against the things you want before they dart away. you will get them next time. you will get them if you just push harder, are crueler, are more methodical. you retreat to form a plan of attack. you cannot rest for long, though. the beast behind you is closing in. clutching the stitch in your side, you square your shoulders, fix your gaze, and begin to run again.

tagged: @mindhallow

tagging: @betraal, @celestieu, @womanlives (mercy), @gildedthrns

[afraidofchange]

OH GOD OH NO WYLL MERCY'S TURNING IN YOUR ESSAY WAIT YOU ROLLED A NATURAL 1 ON YOUR PERCEPTION CHECK I -

@womanlives POOR WYLL 😭 | Match with Rama

[n1ghtwarden]

it's clear now you are as weak as your faith. /daddy ketheric going for the throat

FROM THE DESK OF THE NIGHT WARDEN: SAINT MAUD. no longer accepting.

fear leaves an acrid taste within the night warden's mouth - metallic and sharper than blood; all consuming in the way it eats at her, eats at her, eats at her. some part of her, buried deep, knows that she has never known the feeling before - it was a weakness, a weakness, a weakness. pathetic. pathetic. pathetic like she is now; risen so far and high in the loving embrace of the absolute - accepted. adored. feared. all that she wanted and more ( more, more ); venerated as the dagger of her perpetual grace, deliverer of her mercy and her word.

she'd been loved, hadn't she? hadn't she? had been. was. could still be - just one more chance; desperate to feel that warmth, that acceptance - but standing at the foot of ketheric thorm's throne with her head bowed, she knows nothing but silence. and that, out of all things, terrifies the night warden beyond belief.

and for once, minthara baenre; daughter of lolth ( no, no, of the absolute. you serve her. you serve her. you serve her. ) has nothing to say. what more is there to? she had failed. failed to act, failed to secure, failed to obey, obey, obey - the night warden had always been dutiful, always did what had to be done; did what others were too weak to do - it had to be her, had to be her, had to be her; and when the general, @womanlives, speaks; his words cut the night warden deeper than any assassin's blade ever could. despite herself, she flinches. " general, " she begins to say. the night warden is not too proud to beg. she cannot be cast out again, cannot be abandoned again - who is she, if not part of her embrace? who is she without its warmth? briefly, her gaze turns upwards; head raising a beat later to look upon the chosen of myrkul in all his terrible undying glory - and the worm ( no, the gift; the gift; the gift ) writhes inside of her skull; where the warm feeling of authority once washed over her - this one pierces through her marrow and into the flesh of her brain; painful, pulsating - eye twitching as a hand moved to press so deep into her socket she wonders if gouging her eyes would alleviate the pressure - command. dog. dog. obey. how dare you look upon him? worthless, worthless, WORTHLESS - LOOK AT ALL I HAVE DONE FOR YOU? OBEY. OBEY ME.

her head drops back down, breathing heavy - the absence and silence now more pronounced than ever, head pounding; but the ache recedes, slow and sure. shakily, minthara shuts her eyes; a trembling hand lowering back to her side where it balls into a fist. i will not fail again. i cannot fail again. " neither my faith or i am weak, general. " a soft breath - her head aches; the night warden is so, so afraid - small in this moment where she'd always been proud and tall. " if you will allow me, i will prove myself to you. "

[lcngdays-archive]

@womanlives cont. from (here)

"girrrrl." His southern drawl is low and slow, his green eyes alight with unbridled mischief. "does it matter who i talked to? all i know is i talked to someone who gave me some pretty interesting information."

Johnny bleeds confidence, there's nothing in his mind that could make this interaction not go his way.

"now, i'm no kid, let me tell you what, had my 18th just last month, to this very day, ma'am, to this very day was my birthday. i am a legal, bonafide adult now, which means i can go to war for this country. had to register for the draft and everything! now, hopefully that don't ever happen, ma'am, but in this day and age, who can say? i can also vote, work full time without any permit, donate blood without a parent present and become an organ donor. hopefully that last part doesn't happen 'til after my death a'course, but hey, stranger things have happened, amirite?"

The danger that Mercy is displaying, the warning signs she was giving off. They only made Johnny feel more and more eager to talk to her. Danger was Johnny's middle name, 'less you asked his parents, who'd say it was Alexander.

But when Johnny hears the pitiful meow of the kitten under the dumpster, his heart just melts.

"oh, a baby!" He exclaims, immediately dropping down to his knees in front of the dumpster and cooing, "here kitty, kitty, kitty!"

[spakonarchive]

@womanlives          /           for mercy.

She’s looked in the shop windows in Blackwater and Saint Denis before. It’s hard not to when the clothes on display are as nice to look at as Ma’am thinks they are to wear. It’s a habit she falls into rarely, but one she’s trying to stop all the same. What sort of event would I wear such a thing?

But she’s never had an occasion before, and so it never warrants buying. Hell, she probably wouldn’t regardless. Easier to track animals in old britches, and her husband’s old shirts suit her work just fine. Built to last, not to be pretty. The sign of good quality, and that’s good enough for Ma’am.

She isn’t one to care or mind much one way or another, but she still finds a slight apprehension at the way she looks a mess, feels a mess, when Mercy suggests they stop in for a lookaround. It hurts nobody to just look, she thinks, but she also likes the way she blends into the white washed fences and worn down stone outside on the streets. Ma’am dislikes attention, and attention’s what she’d get inside.

“We can look,” Ma’am agrees, because if Mercy teaches her anything, it is to challenge herself. There is a vicarious joy she feels when she looks at the young woman who knows how to enjoy herself and indulge in things. That is close enough, Ma’am feels, close enough for her. So they go inside to the sound of a bell ringing and Ma’am nods curtly at the man who stands behind the counter. Her hands fold together at her lap.

“You pick out your things,” Ma’am, insists, “I am comfortable waiting here.” A pause, and once again, she feels a stranger. “You pick black clothes often. Do you look at other colors?”

[amelorates]

hold me in harm’s way, baby / all is now harmed. @womanlives​

[rcppled-a]

✃ ✁ couldn’t help mineself xoxo | @womanlives​  ✃ ✁

It’s late. It’s always late whenever he finally tails Mercy, but this time it’s a little different. Jie loped up the rickety stairs two at a time and made it to the top in two minutes flat. Door handle undone by his elbow, he stepped out to the roof. Though his body is still battered and bruised from the last mark, his clothes are in near perfect condition. Not a speck of blood in sight - hell, even his shirt was ironed. Couple that with a giant wicker basket and an ice filled metal bucket, and he was sure he looked nothing short of a clown.

Jie cleared his throat rather loudly to announce his presence upon approach. “I come in peace,” he said slowly — carefully, as if speaking to a spooked animal, “got not one, but two buckets of chicken and some drinks.”

[pizzatheif]

@womanlives​ :

"LIKE, we're pretending to be stuck-up fuckin' lawyers, or whatever, right?" Mercy's bent over double at what can only be described as an arts-and-crafts table in the center of an apartment that has seen exclusively better days, because each day was getting worse. There is a pigeon at the window, a fat old thing. It keeps tapping at the most inconvenient intervals, and cooing at others. Mercy's long since given up shooing it away. It always comes back. With vengeance.

Anyway. Back to the arts-and-crafts table. Right now it's covered in forgery equipment, at least two dozen different kinds of paper, various inks and pens, a couple of suspicious-looking seals, and some bottles that smell chemical and say, in some variation of big red letters, DRINK ME. They're positioned artfully next to an uncorked and half-empty bottle of wine.

Mercy isn't drinking them, but she is going to town with a gold-leafing pen marker. She's got her tongue sticking out of her mouth, because how else are you supposed to concentrate? So the next bit comes out kinda slurred. "I'm doing the little flourishes on the side, see, but if you tilt your head, it’s a penis, right. 'Cuz lawyers are dicks." No one ever said she was mature.

"What d'you want your fake name to be? Still gotta do the lettering on our business papers." She tapped her chin, leaving cute little gold mustache. "I think I'm gonna go with Sue Yerpanzov." Pause. "Esquire."

hugo’s never really been the artistic type. could never sit still enough for long enough, to complete whatever it was he needed — it’s why he’s always had to outsource, otherwise he’d end up with a hastily glued stack of papers that no one would believe. well, that and his spelling mistakes. and missing important information.... you get the point. 

so color him impressed by the spread on mercy’s table. he’s currently inspecting one of the little bottles, looking over her shoulder but pointedly not hovering. the guy he used to use never used to let him watch the craft. he’s intrigued. 

hugo snorts. penis. he squints his eyes and tilts his head, just so, to admire mercy’s work.   ❝   see now, that’s the creativity i like to see. we’re gonna ace this con so good.   ❞   listen. dicks are never not funny. in fact, if hugo ever doesn’t laugh at a dick joke, please assume he’s been bodysnatched. 

       ❝   names?   ❞   he hums, twisting one corner of his moustache,   ❝   i’m thinkin’... richards.   ❞   okay, maybe he’s still hung up.   ❝   reed? reed richards? kinda flows off the tongue and — or, no... he was like, president or something. uhhh...   ❞   he’s tapping his chin, pacing, and then he turns back to mercy, snapping as he points to her,   ❝   anthony.   ❞   yeah, hugo could pull off being an anthony.   ❝   anthony richards. esquire. yeah, that makes me sound important.   ❞   

[sidercal-archived]

@womanlives​​ pinged: There is a fire on a hearth. As a general rule, Mercy doesn’t like fires. But this one’s small and sad, so she thinks she ought to make an exception. She sticks her fingers over it, and frowns. It’s not doing a very good job. Oh well. Only one thing to do. She sucks in a big lungful of air, and blows. /for calcifer pls :>

A heavy stillness saturated every nook and cranny within the room; save for the dust bunnies that idly wafted in the stagnant air. 

How long has it been since he’s been here last?

How much longer will he continue to be absent?

Questions stacked upon one another beneath the ashes. A part of him wanted to reach out and scry a location. The other wanted to continue the surly skulking – even if it was akin to the mannerisms of a petulant child. 

A sigh welled within, but soon dissipated when the stillness was disrupted. Door ajar, Calcifer waited – kept low in the smoldering cinders. And he would’ve stayed as such if the stranger hadn’t disturbed him directly.

“Whoa–” Came a yelp, tone warbled and cracked in pitch. Though small, a form surfaced in surprise. “What’s the idea? What’d I ever do to have me put out?”

[tewwor]

breaking news: hotdog — @womanlives

The storm has finally settled. The entire menagerie of responders are finally gone. All that’s left is them in its wake. Despite the upsetting turn of events, Jie’s surprisingly fine. Well, more fine than how he would’ve been if Mercy hadn’t shown up.

It’s an awfully sobering thought.

How much he’s come to rely on her. How easy it’d been to let her stay when he was at his weakest. People would’ve, and have, killed to take advantage of that vulnerability. But she didn’t. The most she’d done is help him. Try and stabilize the bleeding, get glass out of the way, make friends with a group of people he never intended on her knowing…

So this whole confession about what he truly is? Yeah, it’s long overdue. Still doesn’t make it any easier, though. He’s never really had to explain it outright before. Everyone else that’s aware only had context clues to go off of.

“How, uh..” Thankfully, he’s far too tired to be extra stressed about this. “You want to fire off questions, or should I just.. Talk?”

[tewwor]

SHIPPING INFO // ANSWER THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR MUSES SO PEOPLE KNOW HOW SHIPPING WORKS ON YOUR BLOG.

WHAT IS YOUR OTP FOR YOUR CHARACTER(S)?

🧍 you know how long that'd take me to list out??? anyways, i'll limit the ones that have made me the most feral over the years —

@huntershowl + litho : yall want to talk about slow burn? that moment where we both clapped and they mushed faces together will forever be ingrained in my brain. 4 entire years worth of waiting....

@hnjwn / @cordoliae + chanyeol : insane. they're insane! the sheer depth they somehow fumbled into is just.. outstanding tbh. even though they're both hibernating, i had to mention them

HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE?

i'm personally only comfortable with romantic age gaps of around 10ish years. and, yes, i'll admit that does bleed into my characters a lot.

HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY ARE CONSIDERED NSFT?

just before sexual foreplay + more. not that i really delve into that a lot anymore. but hey! if the stars align and the mood's right, then it still might happen.

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING?

with mutuals? no..... god no........ granted, chemistry is still a very big thing. not every random pair of muses will stick and that's okay! but if you have even an inkling of joy with a romantic ship between our muses, i'm almost always on the same exact boat. so please never, ever be afraid to voice that!

WHO ARE OTHER CHARACTERS YOU SHIP YOUR CHARACTER WITH?

**please know that i probably missed a ton ( rip my work shocked brain ), but these are just the first ships i can think of where we've had in threads or yapped ooc!**

currently established:

@huntershowl / @icarusplunged + seph/litho & seph/jie/ricochet & seph/adal/lior & rusa/ricochet — need i say more? the original marked dating sim hard launch tbh OHGAWOIGH anyways, doesn't matter how long either of us go on hiatus. one of us keeps crawling back

@miidnighters + bella/jie & hartley/cruor/iris — the way both of them just stuck? it's amazing, jaw dropping, heart warming!!! every aspect of a robust, well rounded relationship can be hit in either, i love them both so, so much.

just starting ( and super excited for ):

@xinxiins + jie — don't get me started on how many times my heart's ached already. there's such a cultural connection that guts me Every Time 😭

@chth0nia + cruor — every time i think of them, i think of that crying dog pic you sent. exactly how i feel about them!!!!

@bloodykneestm + whoever you want lbr — i've yet to write those starters for iggy and alastair but just you Wait……

@interxstitial + literally anyone — like, okay yeah there's ravi sure ( i do love them though ), but if there's anyone else that piques your interest... you just let me know and i'll fedex express ship them over. i'll even cover the cost dw

past:

@temporalobjects + botan/clarence/pildo & iwai + chanyeol : i don't think i've ever had a canon latch onto a ship so quickly before? and the fact that it's technically post canon and he's lumped with two sunshiny loveable dorks! then there's... yknow.. the other two that keep dancing around each other. shed many tears from angst and laughter over both ships, drawn at least 1 or 2 things for each ♡

@womanlives + mercy/jie & dez/clarence : my 'missing you' letter. i hope you know that those two ships have brought me such immense joy and tears at the same time. truly have a special place in my heart ♡♡♡

DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU?

more like showing interest, i feel like? asking can be sooooo anxiety inducing ( i know it can be the same with just mentioning it ), but there's a very good chance i'm already jumping up and down in glee with the exact same thought so! just let me know!!

ARE YOU SHIP-OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS?

it's toned down a bit ( barely ) ever since i've been overtaken with how dear and important other types of connections are. but yeah, still love ships with all my heart

WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE SHIP IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM?

n/a

FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU?

just let a clown know. yall know where to find me in my lil' clown corner. if you're more plot heavy, then hell yeah! we can chat up a storm! if you're more 'throw things at the wall and see what sticks' intensive, then hell yeah! i love punting these idiots out and see what happens in the weirdest ( or saddest ) situations. applies to both monogamous and polyamorous ships!

tagged by : i was tagged... in it so that counts right? ( thnkx @huntershowl muah muah )

[tewwor]

𝑯𝑶𝑾 𝑫𝑶𝑬𝑺 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑭𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻? bold what applies, italicise for what applies only sometimes.

• fights honourably / fights dirty • prefers close - quarters / prefers range • chats during / goes silent • low pain tolerance / high pain tolerance • attacks in bursts / attacks steadily • goes for the kill / aims to disarm / fights defensively / strikes first • is provoked easily / provokes their opponent / teases • gets visibly frustrated / shouts while attacking • uses strategy / focuses on the battle / experiences conflicting thoughts during battle / rushes in recklessly / tries to read their opponent before engaging • fights wildly / fights calmly / fights apathetically / fights with anger / fights with excitement • fights because they have to / fights because they want to • fights without regard to wounds / runs away when wounded / hides wounds / takes a blow to protect another • prefers a blade / prefers a gun / prefers hand to hand combat / prefers a bow / prefers a shield / prefers a personalized weapon / prefers magic, alchemy or spells • their greatest weakness is physical / their greatest weakness is mental / their greatest weakness is emotional • transforms for battle / fights as they appear • relies on strength / doubts their strength / relies on speed • uses everything they have / proceeds with caution / hides their full potential / exhausts quickly / has high stamina • behaves arrogantly / brags after landing a hit / belittles their abilities • uses psychological tactics / uses brute strength • avoids civilians / strikes down civilians • damages surroundings / ( tries to ) avoid damaging surroundings • signature fighting style / makes it up as they go • mastered skill - set / learning their skill - set • fancy footwork / sloppy footwork • messy fighter / elegant fighter • accepts defeat / refuses defeat / begs for mercy • compliments their opponent / insults their opponent • uses unnecessary movements / moves efficiently / barely moves • prefers to dodge / prefers to block • defends their blindside / has no blindside / leaves blindsides vulnerable • uses all or most available advantages / strictly uses one main method • plays around / holds back / fights ruthlessly / shows mercy • waits for an opponent to be ready / strikes when opponent isn’t ready • fears death / fears pain / fears killing / fears abandonment • has ptsd / avoids fighting • has lost a fight / has won a fight • has killed / refuses to kill • wants to die standing / would succumb slowly

tagged by: @chth0nia ( thanks!!! ) tagging: @womanlives @miidnighters @bloodykneestm @xinxiins @gollldrush @crowshoots @icarusplunged @fangmother @guttersniper @interxstitial @pavaillard + you!!!

[tewwor]

what are you the patron saint of?

PATRON SAINT OF MARTYRS

the patron saint of those who died to be like you. maybe you died to be like them too: but at the end of it, you weren't like them. patron saint of tragedy. saint of saints. it's you who holds the hands of the holy dead, and you who has to answer: what do they do if they regretted it?

tagged by: @miidnighters tagging: @interxstitial ( marked verse! ) @huntershowl @womanlives ( mercy or paloma! ) @bloodykneestm ( wraith! )