#ourwrittenstories

[bearlydruid]

He shouldn’t have done this. Halsin tapped his forehead against his iPhone repeatedly as if it could unsend the message he had just sent. Halsin ended up in the middle of a scheme, an entire network of busybees had done their duties to lead them to this moment. He trusted Karlach - he did, but he didn’t see how he needed any help dating. Bear came over to him, flopping his head into Halsin’s lap and he immediately reached down to fondly rub the head of the Burmese Mountain Dog mix. The kids club he had ran emptied out of the last kids from The Harper’s organization and the entire time they had cleaned up after Karlach kept talking about her girlfriend’s curious roommate.

Not exactly the way to sell him but Karlach had apparently done some leg work as his wingman. Since when did he even need a wingman? Not that he put himself out at bars too often - they just weren’t his scene. Halsin was a more of the earth kind of guy. He liked books, and farmers markets, and hikes and nature. He wasn’t exactly a nightlife kind of guy.

[text] Hello there, Karlach insisted that I send you a message and ask when you’re available. Apparently she and Shadowheart think we might hit it off?

@ourwrittenstories

[spawnmade]

@ourwrittenstories sent

“Darling, Sable and I got you a gift,” Abdirak purred, the cambion sitting nearby on a stone stool, perched like a pretty statuette as the priest approached their vampire with a fancy looking box in hand. It was matte black with intricate gold filigree painted along the edges. There was a blood red silk ribbon wrapped around it and a golden wax seal holding it in place. It was very clearly from a well known boutique in the upper city and had cost a decent amount of coin.

”Now, you don’t have to wear them,” He started, opening the box quickly to present the four black items sitting neatly inside. A collar, thick enough to cover the bite marks on his neck, with a thick silver ring sat in the middle surrounded by a matching leash and a set of black stockings with a delicate, hand sewn lace detailing on the rim and a thick black stitched line down the backs of the legs, “But we both agree that you’d look quite fetching in them.”

It had been a rather lazy day so he's in his room when the two of them come with him, Abdirak's cat (now his, he suppose) curled up against him but when the two make their presence known, the beautiful creature hops off his comfortable bed and takes off.

Astarion pushes himself up to a sitting position, crawling forward to sit at the edge of the bed instead because of the box that he assumes is going to be given to him. "A gift?" It's not the first time Abdirak had brought him a gift but he's still caught by surprise by them on occasion.

The box is opened before he can fully question it further and in the box are items that are utterly gorgeous. He reaches forward to run his fingers over the collar, a comfortable leather that would settle nicely on his neck.

He's never had a collar on, thank the Gods, Cazador would have ruined all enjoyment in something like that if he had. The collar, accompined by the leash, does happen to thrill him. He wonders what it would feel like around his neck, what it would feel like to get yanked around by the leash.

The most surprising thing in the box, though, are the stockings. While he is certain it is a comfortable fabric, he's not so sure about them. He'll attempt to wear them, he thinks, but the moment someone tries to humiliate him - though he trusts them enough not to - the things are going to be ripped to shreds.

"Well if you both agree, how can I possibly say no?" He lifts his gaze from the box to look at the both of them. "Are you wanting me to try them on now?"

[relentlessgrief]

@ourwrittenstories cont'd from here

"Are you aware that you have no face?"

Well, some of us just say whatever's on our mind now, don't we? Not that Connor minds. In truth, it's probably one of the more amusing reactions they've gotten in a while. Yet, there's no lungs for the undead to laugh with. The empty eye sockets that are nothing but a void almost seem to be intensely boring into the woman as he takes a seat across from her.

"Sorry that I scared you."

"I promise I won't be here for too long. I just need a place to sit and gather my bearings. Being alone by myself isn't the best."

One good thing about Baldur's Gate--most people didn't give a damn about an undead walking through the streets. Waterdeep was a little more uptight about it.

But still, an undead by itself with no handleror someone normal to make them look a bit more … accepted socially wasn't a good look. Back in Waterdeep, he was often used to having someone along with him to back him up if someone questioned his existence or threatened to call the city guards.

"You won't have to look at me for much longer. But I do thank you."

[fiendishfinesse]

“Someone else tried to make me obey them.” ♥️ Sable 💙

───── ⵌ𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖗 ( Submissive Sentence Meme )

His gaze burned, those molten golden irises crackling with intensity as he drew closer. Her form, beautiful, tempting, only spurred his possessiveness—a half-succubus she may be, a creature bred for sin, but she was his.

Mine to torment, to protect, to devour.

“Someone dared to think they could command you?” he drawled. “Foolish. Misguided. Mortal, I assume?” The question came with an edge of disdain, the word dripping from his tongue like venom.

Before she could respond, he closed the space between them with a languid step, one hand cupping her jaw as his thumb brushed across her lips. His other hand found its way to her waist, fingers tracing the contours of her form, a claim.

“I should thank him” Raphael purred, leaning in to press his lips to the corner of her mouth. “For the opportunity to remind you just how utterly…irrevocably mine you are.”

His kisses trailed downward, soft, heated presses against her jawline, her neck, the sensitive curve where shoulder met throat. “Oh, what I would do to him, this…man” he continued, his voice a low growl against her skin. His hands roamed freely now, possessively, as if mapping her anew. “First, I’d flay his soul with my claw. Then, I’d ensure his screams echoed through the Hells for centuries, an eternal symphony of his failure to understand whom he toyed with.”

He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his lips curling into a devilish smirk. “You’d watch, of course” he muttered“To see what becomes of those who think they can snatch a treasure from my grasp.”

As his lips claimed hers in a deep, consuming kiss, his hands wandered lower, their touch possessive, leaving no doubt about the depth of his claim.  When he pulled back, his voice was barely above a growl 

“Shall we summon him now, my wicked delight? Or shall I let his dread steam a while longer before I punish him?”

The choice is hers, but the agony will be mine to deliver

[murdermade]

@ourwrittenstories sent “Sister! Sister look!” Came Sable’s feminine squeal of excitement from somewhere in the temple, the sound of bare feet slapping on the stone quickly and the growing boom of her voice indicating that she was on the move towards wherever the fuck Orin was at a significant speed. Sounds of crashing and swearing could be heard as the footsteps drew closer and….heavier?

Then, with more force than Sable was typically capable of, the cambion broke through a cracked stone wall like the kool-aid man, only to reveal…

A man. A very blue, horned, winged man that looked an awful lot like Sable except larger, by at least a foot, and with sharper detailing than her usually soft and feminine accents. ”What do you think? Now we can both shape shift!! Well, kind of, I can only do this, but look! My cock came pre-pierced! How did it know to do that?!”

It is hard to focus on anything other than Sable when she hears her, she can not stop the roll of her eyes as she waits for her to come running into the room where Orin is lounging a chair, legs thrown over the arm, head resting against the other arm, and her dagger is being tossed and caught with ease.

But when Sable barges into the room, it is not what Orin expects. Almost instantly she sits up on her chair, cross-legged and she leans forward, her milky white gaze trailing over the entirety of Sable.

Oh, how exquiste this form is.

"Well don't you look delicious. I could just eat you!" She would take a bite out of her -him?- if he came closer. "Do I call you sister or brother? It doesn't matter, come closer, let me see you."

[dandiestbard]

@ourwrittenstories asked

[ RECOGNIZE ]: the sender pretends to know the receiver in order to help them avoid unwanted attention. (Alfira <3)

"What business do you have here, Bard?"

Jaskier gives a little bit of a start when he feels the very large and very strong hand of a Flaming Fist fall on his shoulder and spin him around. He isn't a short man by any means, but the one who stares down at him now, with dark and angry eyes, is taller than Jaskier would like him to be in comparison to himself. Especially with his companion and default bodyguard of a ranger friend happens to be out in the doom and gloom of the Shadowlands.

He'll just have to do what he always does when Geralt isn't there and use his charm and wit to persuade the brute to leave him be. He's about to open his mouth with a hand raised and a single finger up, but a very sweet and soft, quite melodic voice drifts from behind his shoulder and past his ear before he can say a thing.

"Oh, dear husband! There you are!"

Eyes widen for just a moment before a smile plasters itself over his face, and though he doesn't recognize the voice behind him, he doesn't care, they're giving him an out.

"Yes, my love, here I am!" He replies before spinning around and out of the brute's grip with dexterous ease and his eyes fall on what has to be the loveliest face he has seen in quite some time. She has him pausing for a moment before he moves towards the tiefling with oustretched hands and a silently mouthed 'thank you' before he continues loudly over his shoulder towards the soldier boring a hole in his back with his eyes.

"I am so relieved to find you here safe and sound..." He says as he takes her hands, loud enough to attract enough attention from others in the inn to cause the Flaming Fist to back down rather than cause trouble. He walks away, with a pointed glare at Jaskier as if to say I'm watching you, and Jaskier slowly let's out a breath and turns his full attention on his rescuer with a bright smile.

"My most gracious and grateful thank you, my lady. Jaskier Pankratz, forever in your debt for a most graceful recue." He smiles brightly, to match the brightness of his baby blue eyes as he brings up one of her hands to grace the back of her knuckles with a thankful and chaste kiss.

[amarvelousmencgerie]

@ourwrittenstories _Kara and Syrian

Kara stood with her hands in front of her, rubbing one finger over and over, a nervous gesture when people were too close to her. She couldn't help but nod and smile when another person tries to talk to her about the new recording that had been released just a few days before. "Oh thank you for saying that, Trenton. I will ahve to see if I can make it to your Chateu the next time I'm close."

She smiled once more at him but couldn't help but be drawn once more across the room to glance at the host of the night. Was it possible that someone could be so mysterious but at the same time, seem to be someone everyone knew. He'd been sending her gifts since their first quick meeting and when he'd invited her to this party, she couldn't help but want to be close to him.

As she watched him for a moment, his eyes on someone talking to him, she couldn't help but feel this fire inside her that burned to walk closer to the flames. She swallowed hard as she let her eyes linger a bit to long because as she was about to look away, their eyes connected. Kara's cheeks began to turn crimson, embarassed that she'd been caught but there was something diffrent in his look this time. She could see the come hither gaze that spoke to her. It made her feel like she was his and being next to him was her place.

She excused herself and began to walk across the room, her long red gown, tight in all the right places but with a slit up to her hip that could only be seen when she was walking how let her alabaster skin shin through and she wondered if he liked her gown, something she'd had made for the night. Did it even matter if he did? She wasn't with him and she couldn't understand why she already wanted to please him.

She was now standing in front of him, looking up wiht her cheeks still blushing. "Mr. Nyx it's very kind of you to invite me to such a lovely party. I have to say your home is..." She looked around for a moment feeling almost cold until she turned back to look into his silver eyes. "It's very lovely but have you ever thought abut having some flowers around. They could be white or black to match but just to have life around that reminds you of something beatiful."

[illbringthechaosmagic]

[ inspection ] (Syrian to Wanda)

@ourwrittenstories

Wanda bit down on her lip as Syrian held her face, her gaze not quite meeting his. The injury, a cut above her brow that was accompanied with a bruise, as well as a few cuts and scrapes over her arms, had been from a fight, one that she had hoped the other wouldn't ask her about. She was fine, she had told him, there wasn't much to it. All she had wanted was to curl up in bed with him and rest, though it seemed like he had other ideas, at least from the way he was looking her over.

"Sy..."