[ Indeed, that was an act of violence and war, not one that he had been precisely expecting and yet here Astarion was as he luxuriantly draped over his lap like a pampered cat, and gods if cats were not Gale's favorite. The weight was firm and comforting and then Astarion's fingers caressed over his neck, his chin was tilted back to reveal it-- and thus the veins felt like they were quivering with the heart beating rapidly underneath the Netherese Orb.
Aside from a few swirls of energy, his Orb did not take offense. Gods, he would've pushed Astarion off his lap if that were the case. If Gale had felt the slightest bit of energy coming from his chest, he would've-- and took off running. Granted, it would've been awkward to explain to Astarion, that he did not want to explode the vampire but the ends justified the means.
Then fangs dug into skin and he let out a hiss as his body tensed in response; there was tension there in the give however after pressing down hard enough, Astarion would be given the gift of blood.. a smoked copper that tasted of something dark-- there was nothing bright about this sanguine as it rolled onto tongue; it was copper and bitter, an absolute product of the Orb within his chest.
As he relaxed, he started to wait for any revulsion, any sound of disgust. Looking for it because why wouldn't someone find fault with his ravaged blood. Verily, he knew that he was different and the blood always told. ]
no subject
Aside from a few swirls of energy, his Orb did not take offense. Gods, he would've pushed Astarion off his lap if that were the case. If Gale had felt the slightest bit of energy coming from his chest, he would've-- and took off running. Granted, it would've been awkward to explain to Astarion, that he did not want to explode the vampire but the ends justified the means.
Then fangs dug into skin and he let out a hiss as his body tensed in response; there was tension there in the give however after pressing down hard enough, Astarion would be given the gift of blood.. a smoked copper that tasted of something dark-- there was nothing bright about this sanguine as it rolled onto tongue; it was copper and bitter, an absolute product of the Orb within his chest.
As he relaxed, he started to wait for any revulsion, any sound of disgust. Looking for it because why wouldn't someone find fault with his ravaged blood. Verily, he knew that he was different and the blood always told. ]