#softersinned

The faint murmur of the Elfsong Tavern dies away as the door shuts behind them, leaving only the crackling firelight to dance shadows along the stone walls. The revelry of Baldur’s Gate’s victory hums distantly below, muffled, unimportant. They may be celebrating survival, freedom——but his mind is far beyond the mundane concept of freedom. His thoughts coil and twist like the smoke from the hearth, dark, indulgent, and brimming with purpose. Astarion watches her, his eyes ( brighter now, like pools of liquid rubies ) rake over her with a hunger that has nothing to do with thirst. She is here, in this dim-lit room, exactly where he needs her, and yet not nearly close enough. The corner of his mouth curls into a smirk, his fangs glinting ever so slightly as he crosses the small space between them with a predatory grace.

❛ I’ve been thinking, darling. ❜ His voice is silk, smooth and laced with a seduction that feels heavier, more dangerous than it used to. No longer the flirtatious charm of the rogue she met——now there’s an edge to it, sharper, more possessive. A man who knows the power he holds and savors it. He stops just inches from her, his breath unnervingly steady as his eyes devour every inch of her face, her form, the pulse he can still hear faintly beneath her skin. Still mortal. For now. ❛ Tonight, they sing songs of us, ❜ he murmurs, voice low, his eyes locking onto hers, drinking in the way the firelight dances in her gaze. ❛ Heroes, they call us. Saviors of Baldur’s Gate. ❜ His lips twitch as if the words themselves amuse him. ❛ But you and I both know that it’s not them who are important, is it? Not these pathetic, fleeting little lives. ❜ He steps closer, his fingers trailing the length of her arm, cool and deliberate. ❛ It’s us. You and me, my pet. ❜

His hand drifts up, fingers lightly brushing beneath her chin, tilting her head ever so slightly to meet his gaze fully, to ensure she can see the intent ( the darkness ) swirling within his eyes. ❛ I couldn’t have done this without you. You know that, don’t you? ❜ His voice drops, quieter now, more intimate. He circles her slowly, letting his presence linger close, like a shadow, like a predator stalking its prey. But there is no rush. No need for haste now. ❛ And look at me now. ❜ His voice is thick with a mixture of triumph and something deeper, darker. ❛ I’ve shattered the chains that bound me. I’ve taken everything from him——and more. I am... unstoppable. ❜ The word rolls off his tongue with the satisfaction of someone tasting the finest wine. He pauses behind her, leaning in, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear, his voice a dark whisper. ❛ And it’s all thanks to you. ❜

There’s a softness, almost affection, in the way he says it. But the underlying truth is there: he owns her now. In his mind, it was always inevitable. And now, he wants to make it permanent. He steps back in front of her, eyes alight with a greedy, possessive gleam. He places a hand gently on her shoulder, fingers curling ever so slightly as if testing her, feeling the warmth of her flesh beneath his touch. ❛ You’ve given me so much, darling. And I’ve been thinking about how I might... repay you. ❜ His lips curl into a smile that is far too pleased, far too dark.

❛ Mortality... it’s such a fragile, fleeting thing, isn’t it? ❜ He lifts his other hand, cradling her face now, his thumb brushing her cheek in a gesture that might almost be tender——if not for the coldness behind his touch. ❛ And I’ve been watching you, my dear. How you cling to it, this life. How you struggle, even as everything you once believed in crumbles around you. The Raven Queen? Your faith? She’s abandoned you… when you needed her most." His gaze sharpens, fingers sliding down to trace the line of her neck, feeling the pulse beneath her skin. ❛ But I haven’t abandoned you. ❜ His voice drops to a near growl, dark and possessive, as his thumb rests against her throat, lingering just above where her pulse beats. ❛ I never will. ❜ He steps even closer now, his lips barely inches from hers, his breath cold against her skin.

❛ I want to offer you a gift, my love. ❜ His eyes are ablaze with a fierce, predatory intensity. ❛ A gift of immortality. Power. ❜ He leans in, his lips ghosting over the side of her neck, where he knows her blood flows, rich and tempting. ❛ I want to make you mine. Completely. Forever. ❜ His fangs graze lightly over her skin, a dangerous tease, a promise of what’s to come. ❛ I’ll turn you, darling. You’ll become my most cherished spawn, my consort, my companion for all eternity. ❜ He pulls back slowly, his eyes burning into hers. ❛ No more fear. No more pain. You will be free. Free to be by my side, where you belong. Where you’ve always belonged. ❜

@weaverot / @softersinned / @anquenin

❝ so what are you proposing? an alliance? ❞ it had been give-or-take a century since the last time he'd tossed his hat in the ring with a circlet of well-intentioned nomads. shade everhart was the paragon of judgement - selective in both the battles he fought and the people he fought them with. this wasn't his fight ... at least, it hadn't been. in placing a target on his back, his adversaries had incited something in him - a hunger for justice he hadn't felt since the age of sarevok. self-preservation was a powerful motivator indeed.

thankfully, they aren’t alone. looking to @softersinned for guidance, they say, “ i don’t know where to go. ”

at this point there’s a list a mile long, and each task is as daunting as the first. “ we need to find help, right ? supplies ? a real bed in an inn to boost morale ? ” 

" i know red, " jax pushed the hair back from her forehead. leaning down, he presses both of them together. as his jaw clenches there's the heated needles at the backs of his eyes. everything in him wanted to fall apart because abel was gone. only this morning opie tore into the house, picked him up off the floor like a ragdoll, and tossed him in his own shower. hale stayed behind to strip the wet fabric off his body without even a single joke about finally getting him naked.

now, the other biker had his head resting on red's thigh. still no stupid jokes or innuendos. just an eerie silence jax had no idea hale was capable of. he hadn't said a word since they arrived at jax's house to find astrid taped to a chair and blood all over the floor. the only time it'd come even close was right before retribution killings. funny how those never really registered until right this second.

" you did everything you could, babe, i know that, " the blonde had to keep it together no matter the sadness and rage creating a tempest in the center of his chest. he wasn't sure if he wanted to get drunk and lay on the floor or start a killing spree in the middle of mayan territory. no, they didn't have anything to do with this but they were the closest enemy they had. everyone else was across the god damn ocean. " juice is trying to hack into whatever he can to find him. bobby's reaching out to contacts. "

back in the hall, jax heard both clay and unser talking. couldn't hear about what, only the murmured voices. assumption was something about the prospect, which brought about a whole onslaught of thoughts. someone had to get in touch with cherry. the funeral. dodging the feds so they could take care of this in house.

FROM: @softersinned RE: intimacy - muse a braids/brushes/works knots out of muse b’s hair STATUS: accepting

intruding was the last thing he ever wanted to do. playing newlyweds didn't mean arthur was allowed to be up in astoria's personal space no matter how much he wanted to be. but, the former king in him also couldn't stand by and idly watched while something had her thrown off. there were a few pieces to the puzzle he was missing or a whole shitload of pieces. no matter how many he was missing he wouldn't pry.

instead, he came up to the side of the bed after astoria got out of the shower. gentle fingers coaxed the brush from her hand. lemme, the immortal whispered in a gruff. just a small, gentle action to pull her mind from wherever it kept wandering to. for all he knows it's to whatever sum of money desi has planned for her at the end of this venture but whatever it is doesn't put that light on her face like when she talked magic.

igraine taught him to do a number of things to both her hair and morgawse's. sometimes it was soothing. more often then not he'd ended up doing it to help calm his mother down while she was waiting for uther to come back home. with the change in times, arthur hadn't done much with someone else's hair for the past century. like riding that proverbial bicycle, though. once the brush was in his hand his fingers started working on their own.

as gently as he can, arthur starts on the bottom as to not yank too hard. methodically, he works his way towards the crown of astoria's head only to stop to work through some of the muscles in her neck.