essea: (38.)
ɪᴏʀᴠᴇᴛʜ. ([personal profile] essea) wrote 2024-11-09 03:30 am (UTC)

[ The tousled look is attractive in its own right; Iorveth thinks to reach out and make a mess of those soft curls, but foresees a lot of grousing about how Iorveth has made Astarion ugly. Maybe another time, when he feels like tugging on Astarion's figurative pigtails a little.

For today, he makes a satisfied noise in the back of his throat at all the newly-bared skin, shooing away all remnants of the novel's overwrought descriptors. There's nothing heaving or creamy about Astarion's chest, and thank the gods that there isn't.
]

Is that what vampires do. [ Genuinely curious, given that his knowledge of vampire lore begins and ends with what Astarion has seen fit to tell him. He hums, interested, and dips down to start making a mess of Astarion's chest, kissing and sucking at his skin to leave a trail of lovebites down to his navel. Tame enough to indulge the fantasy playacting, but still feral at heart. ]

I'd call you Lord Astarion, then, would I.

[ He takes one of Astarion's hands, and kisses the back of it with a smooth flourish. ]

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