illithidnapped | INBOX II

Well then I'd have to get a cast of your face made for my codpiece. So

Why not?

[Darling menace.]

because i would never be seen in public with you again

because i think you would rather die than wear something so unfashionable

because you would walk around sporting an erection 24/7 and that would kill even you

just ask me to settle between your thighs for a full day and call it even

[Tsk.]

you know I would look all the more dashing with your face pushed down flush and hot where it belongs.

But then you'd need to rest and get better to reach that particular outcome instead of stubbornly ruining the rest of my wardrobe alongside anything that isn't that

tight

feverish

coughing, sore, tired, had-best-be-drinking the honeyed tea I left behind for it, throat.

[There's a momentary pause, for Astarion is distracting even via text.]

i can rest and ruin your wardrobe all at once

i'll bet i could still rest and get you off, too. you're fond enough of letting me sit on your cock for hours at a time.

[. . .]

you're too tempting for someone who won't let me put even my hands on you

you might well make up for it by telling me more about what you'll let me do when i'm rested

and yes i drank it

you've grown better at making it, it was good

Edited 2024-05-13 00:59 (UTC)

[:)]

I'm choosing to take that compliment as a constant due to the fact that I distinctly remember you saying, and I quote

"this is delicious"

the first time I made it for you.

[Did Leto actually ever say that?]

and do be careful: what you say next will decide whether or not I elaborate more on what I'll permit you to do once you're all hale and whole

[See, the problem with being both sick and stuck in a teenage body is that his initial instinct is, in fact, to be a little brat about it. So it takes a moment (and a very large ink blot) before he manages to write out a reply.]

"it's even better and more delicious than it used to be", ~~does that soo~~ is that better?

you've learned to add honey. it is an improvement. i like the sweetness. take the compliment as it was intended.

what you'll permit me?

[Ah, brattiness can't always be fully quelled.]

[And yet the thing about being Astarion is that his initial instinct is to hunker down and be a brat about it, too.

A two centuries old brat.]

what

I'll

permit

you

apologies, was I unclear?

this from the vampire who will, i have no doubt, be begging me to let him fuck me the moment i'm healed, for he's gone without for so long

needy thing, don't act as if you won't— or need i remind you that it was you, not i, that was so insatiable he fucked me for a full 24 hours once?

besides: you do not PERMIT me to do anything

i don't know why you think you'll start now

begging????

b e g g i n g?

excuse me for being the bearer of overwhelming truths but I have never once begged for it from you.

[LIES, Astarion. ]

and need I also remind you love of my bloody little life that it was you who was still sighing for it after those twenty four hours?

i make no apologies for being attracted to you - and there is a difference between wanting something and begging for it

wanting it is my craving your touch even after a full 24 hours, and getting rewarded for it with cockwarming

begging for it is what you did a full week ago, when i was cooking lunch and you slithered out of your coffin to tempt me into bending over the counter, muttering threats against my friends all the while because you hadn't seen me in one full day

you dressed it up in pretty language, but it was begging all the same

[THAT.

Oh....that's cheating.]

I thought being ill was meant to addle all your senses

common and memory included

how in the__ how in the name of Andraste's fitted sheathe did you even remember how any of that went?

Five minutes ago you couldn't spell montressor!

[Oh, Astarion, you should know this one. It's so easy.

You both run on spite.]

[Spite and a lot, a lot, of Baldur's Gate Nyquil.]

i notice you aren't denying it

shall i recount all the ways in which you whined for me, or will you?

(and i didnt bother spelling it, i didnt forget. theres a difference. you knew who i meant.)

by your own sweaty little admission I refute that insinuation on the grounds that I was making threats. Fanged. Livid threats. Promising to devour those little beasts you call friends for keeping you from me far longer than they should have.

And if it's technicalities you want to wade in on then let me be the first to 'recount' that all of the above was only barely audible over the noise of your panting and gasping for more beside the lunch you never consumed, thus proving you couldn't get enough to fill your only relevant appetite at that particular point in time.

And another thing, since you feel well enough to go combing over all my mannerisms for the sake of your defense: I do not, and never once, have slithered from my coffin!!

aren't you defensive

what emotion fueled you, then, if not desperation? to the point where you could do nothing but pin me to the counter and snarl and seethe at everyone who dared keep me away . . . since you're defining so much, tell me: what was that, if not desperate hunger?

and you're right. it wasn't slithering.

more like stalking, predator that you are.

You "refute the insinuation on the grounds"?

i will not even mention "thus proving".

are you my kadan or a hightown lawyer?

well I happen to be both if you must know.

technically.

but that's not the point I was making don't you dare change the subject and think you're clever!

A predator stalks prey. P R E Y. thematically? prey whines. it begs. it whimpers. it gasps in the dying throes of ecstasy with its nails dug in and its mouth open, panting sweet nothings in Tevene.

[Hold the fucking phone.]

what do you mean both

exactly what I said

I was a magistrate by trade before my death, and an adept one at that

[Editor's note: he does not actually know if he was good at it or not.]

when were you going to bring this up?

have you always known??

~~what the hell do~~

REALLY?

you??

what

WHAT DO YOU MEAN

'REALLY? YOU??'

[PRIORITIES.]

you promised to teach me how to pick a lock and break into a place undetected on the move back home

you kill people

routinely

a not insignificant portion of our income comes from your theft and our murdering bandits, and that's to say nothing of our turning in bounties

do not take it as critique, but you have to admit, none of that is particularly lawful, and none of it inspires me to think that "ah yes I know what he must have done in his past"

i assumed you were just a noble

i didn't know you worked

I___

[Err.

Well.

Actually that is a very fair point.]

Look. IF it was up to me in life I'm sure I would've skirted by eternally on wine and pomegranate seeds for about as long as it lasted.

I

assume, anyway. Considering I can't really remember. But that's not the point. The point is holding title in Baldur's Gate is tantamount to doing nothing.

It was only after my death I learned the art of subterfuge.

Thankfully, that won't be your lot.

Also come on now my love you've seen the law in every iteration.

Despite the etymology, there's nothing lawful about it.

[Does he faintly underline my love? He does. It's assuring, oddly enough, and sweet besides.]

i never doubt that it will not be my lot. you care for me too well for that.

and you say that, but you did not have to sit through 7 years of aveline complaining anytime hawke so much as thought about stealing from even the most ill-reputed merchant

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countdown to astarion shouting TAKE THAT!! during sex

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O B J E C T I O N!!!!!!!!!!!

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