essea: (21.)
ɪᴏʀᴠᴇᴛʜ. ([personal profile] essea) wrote 2025-05-06 02:10 am (UTC)

[ Annoyingly (Blissfully)--

--it shuts Iorveth up. Teeth and tongue and adrenaline-serotonin, he lists into the bite and the drain, permissive only because he trusts Astarion to watch over him when he's limp and bloodless. Something he failed to consider the first time he let Astarion sink his fangs into him, and something that surprised Iorveth afterwards, the fact that Astarion did, in fact, stick around while he passed out.

A sigh, a hum, and a full-bodied settling. Completely useless, down and out for the night. Foolish, all things considered, but a luxury nevertheless to submit completely to being lazy for once.

(The tiefling spawn gives up for the night; he'll return with better tools, and he'll see if he can please his master with a tribute, with something that will earn him at least a tenday of peace.

Meanwhile, the night hag scowls in her lair.)

Iorveth, limp and warm and trapped under Astarion's weight, murmurs:
]

If I'm to die, let it be like this.

[ Under Astarion's mouth, in bed. Wouldn't that be nice. ]

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