#spoilsovwar

[muutosarch]

"if you don't think i mean it, then i understand. but i'm still glad you came."

starter call. @spoilsovwar.

[briefspionne]

@spoilsovwar sent :  “ look at me. “  ( from tolouse )

tears flowed in abundance, full of sorrow and anger, staining pale cheeks whilst her person was tucked in some corner away from prying eyes. this was a slight of unforgivable nature, to such a degree it made the blood in her veins boil and instilled a fury as intense as the very fires of hell. they would pay for this and dearly so, over and over until she deemed that they had suffered enough for the crime committed.

vaguely it registered tolouse had found her. she did not acknowledge them, not truly, too caught up in her thirst for revenge and how to exact it. mumbling, wrathful & dangerous words tumbling from lips in what could only be described as somewhat a fit of insanity. like it consumed her wholly at such rapid pace to the point it felt as if whatever shreds of softness were left behind after jan's death ceased to exist. or perhaps it had all died a swift death the moment he left this earth. perhaps her softness had been a charade, for he had always been the gentler out of the two of them and he had made her wish to be so too.

thoughts interrupted, words dying out by forceful yet gentle touch. who else could have dared touch her like this but her friend? who else could have managed to pull her away from the edge?

green beheld blue. look at me. and josine did. she gazed into her eyes, until anger melted back into its true form: grief. and as tears flowed once more, so did words, only now full of anguish and heartbreak. " these shameless bastards, they ask for me in their bed, as my husband is not yet laid to rest two months. as i don this attire of mourning and devote myself to this proper mourning of my beloved husband. they dare -, they dare to - " voice broke and soft sobs followed swiftly. what was more devastating than a widow harassed like so when her love was barely cold in the ground?

[pawnedprince]

' so how goes willful disobedience of late? ' ( ištván ) ↣ @spoilsovwar

The room is barren, void of life — all empty cabinets and cupboards and bare walls, almost as if the room was plucked into existence just for the sake of containing him. No one else has trod these floors before now, he thinks, he's almost sure of it. The window is the biggest tormenter of them all: the looking glass through which days and nights pass before him, marching onwards like God's most faithful soldier. But biting the hand that feeds does not a comfortable cage make, and here he's settling in for the long - haul — his mind simmers at the thought of Hanush dragging his feet, which he no doubt will. How dreadful to think of his life in his uncle's hands; hesitant to reach for the coffers if only to make an example of the situation. He'll truly never be free after this.

What few efforts towards statesmanship which have been made in his tenure here have been met with scorn and contempt, his stomach souring with the taste of even the most lukewarm attempts to play this deplorable game. He can feel his hosts' patience wearing thin, though little does he care. Perhaps a skipped dinner or two would temper his poor manners. But when Ištván comes to knock he wonders if he hasn't crossed a line now. Arms crossed, standing his ground opposite side of the room, he glares righteous fury at the cur of a man. His stomach growls, almost poetically on cue as his eyes grow colder, ever dimmer before he spits his reply. " Fucking excellent, thanks. "

[blacknoch]

𝔗here is joy to be had, even as the sky weeps over their little house of thatch, a saving grace blessed unto them by the gods in the midst of this painstaking journey traversed far from off the king's road-so she had chose. intolerant weather the lady of the noch could withstand, this was true, but were she saddled with company so jovial as tolouse (with a leaking and poorly cobbled roof, but a roof, yes!), what really could be there to bemoan!

their hearth sputters, besieged by the constant drip that bullies past the smoke and heat that smolders somehow still; their supply of logs plentiful, but damp. turstin cannot mind. ' magnificent talents you have, my good artisan. ' the hunting dog at her side is thick with fur, and warm, the animal as kind as it was appreciative for the pats she thumps against it's ribs. ' they will surely take you wherever you would like to go in westeros. '

@spoilsovwar

[drahnovice]

ㅤRE: GHOSTS BY SCARLET HOUSE, SPOTIFY WRAPPED. ㅤCC: @spoilsovwar.

"YOUR LOVE IS ALL I KNOW." And violence, violence, violence, both gifts bestowed by Ištván. Ištván: the man Erik holds dear, desperately dear, and loves painfully, heart rent asunder. Ištván: the man Erik hates, hates, fucking hates like no other man. Ištván: the man whose traitorous throat Erik would tear — all teeth, all wolf, all hungry — into. Ištván: the man whose body Erik would gut and ravage, drink the blood and devour the flesh and grind the bones into dust in beautiful and grotesque obsession and devotion. As wholly as Erik is owned by Ištván, Ištván is also Erik's, and Ištván will die by Erik's hand, by Erik's darling and devoted hand, a vise poised and ready 'round Ištván's, Pista's, beautiful, traitorous throat that pitter patters with a butterfly's heart beat.

Erik, whose hand 'round Ištván's throat is trembling. Erik, who's sitting astride Ištván to rut shamelessly, traitorously. "You've ruined me." The intricate rituals of foreplay: fucking and fighting, fighting and fucking — the thrill all the same.

[drahnovice]

💕 wrong account but tolouse and erik hehe...

ㅤROMANTIC SHIPPING GUIDE. re: @spoilsovwar.

send 💕 ( or two hearts emoji if unable to see it ) and i will fill out the below form based on what i would like to see between our muses !

LEVEL OF RELATIONSHIP

newly pining or crushing / just confessed / just started dating / going steady (having dated for 3 to 12 months) / serious relationship (3+ years together) / engaged / just married / have been married for a few years / previously dated / on and off again relationship / one sided crushing or pining / newly separated / newly divorced / newly broken up / giving their relationship one last chance / part of a poly relationship / one night stand / multiple night stand / friends with benefits / other

GETTING TOGETHER ...

childhood friends to lovers / college friends to lovers / best friends to lovers / roommates to friends to lovers / exes to friends to lovers / coworkers to friends to lovers / enemies to friends to lovers / friends of circumstance to close friends to lovers / one night stand to lovers / multiple night stand to lovers / friends with benefits to lovers / other

EXPRESSING AFFECTION ...

romantic words / acts of service / quality time / gift giving / cuddling / hugging / hand holding / kissing / other: i will kill for you

SEXUAL PREFERENCES

tops / bottoms / switches / likes oral sex / likes vaginal sex / likes anal sex / likes mutual masturbation / has a low sex drive / has a moderate sex drive / has a high sex drive / likes slow sex / likes fast sex / likes having sex with more than one person / considers themselves 'vanilla' three kinks / hard boundaries they have: refer to here. considers themselves: a man but also really and truly does not care. their sexual orientation is: bisexual with a slight masculine lean. other important notes: tolouse is unhappy with her lot in life as a jester and spy for sigismund and is liable to leave, and there's a very real possibility erik will either try to force him to stay or even leave with them.

LIST THREE PLOTS IDEA YOU HAVE: as mentioned above, erik potentially leaving sigismund's service with tolouse, though he'd need staunch evidence and convincing to leave behind istvan i'm afraid. or istvan even leaving with them ? hm. either way, this is probably after erik's forced tolouse to stay numerous times because he's the guard dog, he's suppose to keep the sheep inside their enclosure and "safe," but also simply because he doesn't want tolouse to leave because he's developed feelings for her. also something something erik also having been a spy at some point and that's how they met because oh erik purposely being captured — thus putting his life in danger but who cares because he's serving a "greater cause" ! — to gather information.

[joyousdefunct]

[ TXT ] : that kiss was rly nice. [ TXT ] : call me when u wake up!!!!!!! xoxoxo [ TXT ] : hellooooooo what are u doing that's more important than me????

from tolouse , for caleb. ♥

➡ 「 sᴛʀᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ 🔧🍃」 : Damn hol up ➡ 「 sᴛʀᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ 🔧🍃」 : I’m workin 😜

correction: he should be, but he’s not. he’s on the couch.

➡ 「 sᴛʀᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ 🔧🍃」 : Long drive back from u to me

that part's true. he’ll never get the glitter out ... or the lipstick stains off.

➡ 「 sᴛʀᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ 🔧🍃」 : So what u wearing

@spoilsovwar // a game of telephone.

[vigilant-cleric]

[ grip ] receiver grabs sender by the hips, holding them in place while taking full control

+

[ overstim ] sender keeps going even after receiver's already shaking from release

hehe, from tolouse

Ashen had never seen someone like Tolouse. He had read about peculiar saints of Christianity, of course, but among thousands of them, his memory had faded and was only abruptly refreshed by his encounter with the confident, charming, unashamedly seductive entertainer. And not unlike these Catholic figures, the priest had given up his body wholly to her, hers to revel in and tease and use and perhaps, perhaps, torment.

Out of the shielding ampleness of his robes, he looked vulnerable, and yet with a body fit for such vigour that denying it the pleasures of flesh seemed as sinful as indulging them. Despite being in the less active position, reclined against the bed, his every muscle was put to contribution indeed, trembling and contracting with a rhythmic wave set afire by Tolouse's motion. They looked regal like this, locking their lover's hips in place, back straightened with the assurance that they were the master here, shattering the authority held by Ashen's upper class with every onslaught of their pelvis.

The vicar's quiet moans had become loud whimpers, and palms that previously rested on Tolouse's hips now clawed at the headboard behind him with reflexive strength. "Christ... Tolouse, I've already come," he had pleaded pitifully, but his movements had not stopped. And only then Highcliff understood what was the jester's aim, abdominal muscles tremoring with the dull ache of an orgasm forcefully prolonged into his refractory period. Lord, every single remaining drop was being milked out, and that tightness around his swollen head transformed the dull ache into a more pronounced pain.

The spams ran through him much more regularly now, and Ashen was brought to the edge of tears; yet he did not ask his lover to retire, obviously finding enjoyment in toeing the frontier between pain and pleasure. But he whined still, a sound somewhere between lustful rapture and agonising despair. He became light-headed, nails scratching instinctively at the wood beneath them, eyes rolling back into his head as he progressively lost control of his body and spilled forth his seed another time, despite his belief that he had already been drained dry.

"Fuck," the clergyman eventually cried out in his native tongue, now panting as heavily as if he had just come out of a swordfight. "How can you last that long-- fuck!"