— i'll say a prayer, as i cast it to the flame

[redsoil]

WHO: set & others
WHERE: around the netherworld
WHEN: check headers for specific dates/times
WHAT: a catch-all for everything during his time in-game
WARNINGS: physical violence, mentions of sexual abuse, hanahaki syndrome, etc.

Comments

👂

[damnpire]

[As easily as he could see this coming, it still surprises him to have it done. Not because it’s Set. He has no fears or disgusts with men finding him attractive; plenty of men on the Frontier blushed in his presence.

It’s the idea someone even wants to kiss him at all.

And he isn’t sure how something so simple and soft could take him out at the knees when he is so solid in every other way. With the mistletoe, it’s professional. With this…

The fingers on Set’s arms curl slightly. He doesn’t pull away, but doesn’t try to devour Set’s mouth either. The kiss from his end is such a chivalric, polite thing. His lips hesitate with his breath once Set has pulled away. The churn in him is chaotic, turmoil.

A part of him wants to ravish and drink. Another part has the solid, compassionate resolve to know better.

His eyes hide under the lowered, thick lashes; the muddy color of them has become a soft, carnelian sheen, so deep they almost glow. He draws in a quiet breath, like he’ll speak… but he doesn’t yet, hesitating again.

Carefully, in the strangest assuredly but timid way, he kisses Set again, once. The most kind and gentle thing, fleeting.]

we killed the game but im not done tagging this

[redsoil]

[ The flush of sensation that fills him boils high, as he gathers D's face between his hands and slots their mouths together. Set does not kiss politely, yet there is the barest presence of reservation in the way he digs his fingers into D's jaw as though readying for a lunge, to experience being seized; he has been coveted, as a god and as a man and as many other imaginary things, and some part of him has learned to prepare for it.

As D worries he will incite madness with his dark nature, Set fears the same. When they inevitably reach his room in the Shadowlands, what will happen to D, when he lets Set's soul find purchase within him?

Pushing the thought away, he wills his fingers to relax, to not claw at the pale skin of D's face and to instead focus upon the way -- the way the hunter kisses back, so very gentle and shy. ( A laugh bursts from his throat, incredulous with the acknowledgement of it. How truly tender-hearted of D, to be so hesitant and unsure. ) ]

It's okay, [ he whispers (again) across the seam of D's mouth. ]

Don't be afraid to have what you need.

[ ( Something within the shape of Set's soul curls, like a hand seeking the shape of another's. Needy, too. Bitterly shamed by it, but ever-present. ) ]