#{ you know the drill. full permission for karlach to put him in his place. he's being a proper jackass lol }

[rubistella]

@infernaliscor || continued from 𐕣

Astarion’s lips slanted, wry at every angle in cynicism and poise alike.

Spoken letters? To add insult to injury, of erotic calibre no less. 

It was hard not to break into fits of laughter at the absurdity of it all. A visceral, hoarse peal of sound characteristic of that riffing tenor the vampire would often carry. Fangs exposed and head falling further back. A high not so easy to come down from without Karlach’s face souring to cushion its landing.

“Ah, ha ha ha! You’ve got to be joking.”

No trace of mirth was found in the steep dip of Karlach’s frown.

Shit.

“Oh,” The vampire baulked, all melody and merry falling from his form. Brows low and leery. “You’re serious?” It took clearing his throat not to fall back into laughter, though nothing kept the spawn from secretly humming a private chuckle to himself. "Karlach- the fury of avernus, seeking to be touched by pillow talk and whispered obscenity?"

Astarion couldn't help himself when impulse took over. That impounded cruelty that came in frustration's tow was like a clot ready to be spewed. Karlach's condition, after all, manifested itself as a two-way street. Because he, too, couldn't touch her... Couldn't act on his usual modus operandi to secure one powerful ally. Couldn't drink from her either when the tiefling had been more than willing to let him share in her blood.

It was awful, really.

And it brought out the worst in him too.

"How the mighty have fallen..." Rather like his own predicament, none of it had been her fault. Not that it would stop him from rubbing salt to the wound, of course.

The hurt, the acrimony- the damage laced in her features, however, just might.