fade rift inbox;

[doggish]

Comments

[illithidnapped]

[Somewhere else, Astarion is snorting.]

Ah


no.

[Eloquent.]

[doggish]

Stroking yours for two and a half centuries does not mean you have an inherent advantage.

[illithidnapped]

Nor does sucking mine.

[On the paper there comes a rudimentary collection of lines and penned-in curves, forming the look of what must— probably— sort of....ly?— undoubtedly be a representation of a cock.

Leto's cock.

Embellished with lyrium (?) tattoos that definitely don't exist there in reality.]

[doggish]

[There's a pause. Sometimes you have so many things you want to say that it take a little while to pick what.]

I see. And that is your attempt, is it?



A few points of clarification:

1) Are those scars and piercings?
2) Is that meant to be come?
3) Do you remember that most people, myself included, have two balls?

1/2

[illithidnapped]

[Astarion will remember that.]

2/2

[illithidnapped]

1: tattoos you daft menace
2: obviously
3: there ARE two. it's the paper making them look as though there isn't

Let's see you do so much better

1/2

[doggish]

[Oh, he will— or, well, he won't, but he thinks he will. But this first.]

So that's meant to be me, then.

Me in a world in which my cock is tattooed.

[doggish]

[DOT DOT DOT]

Is it that you do not recall what my cock looks like, or . . .?


It's just that there are subtler ways to tell me that you've missed me.

[illithidnapped]

Not if you keep this up, I won't. [>:[[[[[[[[[[]




Besides, I just thought I'd spruce up the poor thing. Give it a little extra oomph as they say.

[doggish]

I still refusing piercings anywhere near my cock. It needs no oomph.

[But fine, fine, he'll give it a go. And it's worth mentioning that this is a drawing that goes through several, if not revisions, at least attempts at it: an invisible finger smudging out what first begins as an incredibly pointy cock, and ends up with . . .]



[There were a few revision attempts mid-process, which, alas, does not turn out well when one is working with ink. Thus the artist learns.]

[illithidnapped]

[It's majestic. A testament to who they are. What they stand for. If there was a symbol of their love, enduring, this would be it. Their coat of arms. Their eternal hallmark.

Their— ]

Well. That was easy.

What do I get for winning?

[Excuse you, Astarion, art is fucking subjective.]

1/2

[doggish]

Yours looks as


No one won here today. Gods help either of us if our pricks looked like either of these.

[doggish]

But mine at least has two balls.

[illithidnapped]

Watch. It. Thin ice, knife eared amatus mine.

Mine has embellishment. And come.

[doggish]

did you just actually call me a knife ear?

[They'll get back to the matter of dicks in a minute.]

[illithidnapped]

What? I'm allowed.

Don't tell me you're precious about it.

[doggish]

as precious as you are truly audacious

[In other words: no, not at all.]

and you are allowed on the slight of technicalities— though I notice you call the man you love— your future husband, no less— a slur over a matter of drawn cocks

Aren't you meant to be the older, more mature one?

[illithidnapped]

[There's a moment when that pen sits against the page, not disputing any facet of this argument for the longest time before, simply:]

I'm reclaiming it.

[doggish]

Justify it well enough, my magistrate, and perhaps I’ll approve it.

[illithidnapped]

You are such a thorn in my side I hope you realize.

But fine.

Knives are deadly after all. My own personal weapon of choice for their grace and beauty, let alone their ability to puncture even the most stalwart of defenses with a perfectly timed thrust. Thus with our delicate features and our murderously divine natures, nothing could be more fitting an evocation for creatures such as ourselves.







Also, you deserved it for daring to criticize something I poured my heart and soul into.

[>:C]

[doggish]

[Just beneath that first sentence, cheekily scrawled in the smallest font:]

You love me and would tear the world apart to keep me from the slightest inconvenience.

[But then:]

Fine. I will allow it, if only because you made a spirited case. But you spoiled it at the end, lawyer mine: you did not spend more than ten seconds on that, and I aim to praise you for the many things you do that deserve favorable judgement on, not a half-assed rendition of my prick.

Though I notice, with all your whining, you never praised mine either. Do you intend to continue to demand that which you haven't given yourself?

[illithidnapped]

1: yes.

2: can a creature not invest its very being into a work of art in ten seconds?

3: also yes. Besides. I praise you endlessly already, a great portion of it warranted, no less.

[doggish]

A creature can. You, however, I doubt very much did.

What portion of it is unwarranted? Choose your next answer carefully.

[illithidnapped]

[!

RUDE!!]

2/2

[illithidnapped]

[. . . .]

When you're ill and on death's door and your nose turns redder than beetroot and your eyes won't open and I tell you that you're the most alluring thing I've ever seen in all my years, and how I'd take you right then and there if I didn't think it'd finish doing the work your sickness started?






Not that part.


Just the part that comes after, when I say no sweetheart I love you sleeping in my clothes no matter how unwell you are. It's so cute of you to wipe your nose with my sleeve whilst snoring.