essea: (64.)
ɪᴏʀᴠᴇᴛʜ. ([personal profile] essea) wrote 2025-06-27 03:52 am (UTC)

[ Red flags to most people: uses of terms like let and chain you to the bed. It's all fun and games until reinforcement of unhealthy behavior takes a dark turn, but (perhaps foolishly), Iorveth doesn't anticipate anything of the sort happening. How could he? Astarion is simply built differently, made differently, is different.

Iorveth's evidence? Personal opinion. He tips his chin up, meeting Astarion's mouth with the stillsame awe that he'd felt when they first kissed, taken by surprise every time by how good it feels. Familiar, but still a little like missing a step down the stairs. He keeps shifting, angling his jaw to see if the next kiss will feel less like vertigo, and is proven wrong; the only time he's glad that his instincts are off.
]

One shouldn't suggest something they don't intend to act on.

[ A grin, a challenge. Reginald is relegated to his mental graveyard, six feet under his surface consciousness. Wrapping his arms around Astarion, Iorveth demands fuller contact next time their mouths meet, surging forward when Astarion starts to pull back. It's a rush of adrenaline, as it really sinks in that they're both alive. They really could have died back in Athkatla, Iorveth turned into a bag of skin and Astarion's soul trapped inside it. ]

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