[ Definitely a freak, who doesn't shy away from putting a little bit of pain into his pleasure. Shapely fangs threaten to break his skin, and he goes ahead and pushes the proverbial knife into his own neck; he presses the pad of his thumb to that serrated point, drawing a drop of blood that he then rakes along the same bottom lip. ]

Obviously.

[ Wary of treading close to objectification territory, but willing to admit that Astarion is like, super hot. ]

Maybe I'll use these fingers you like so much and fuck myself with them. Thinking of you all the while.

[ Crude, but entirely within the realm of things he'd do if he missed Astarion. Iorveth wonder how long it'd take to get himself to that point, whether it would be weeks or only a handful of days. ]