mystracal | 🔮 exsanguinated (with @sangwhine)

Perfectly fair. For all we know, it could be all six of them together, if Cazador is so desperate to have you.

If my scars contain what that devil Raphael said they do, then I can't imagine he wouldn't be desperate.

[Gale sighs quietly. He'd love to tell Astarion not to be afraid, or to reassure him that things will be fine, but even his optimism falters when it comes to the desperation of a vampire lord missing the single piece needed to complete a vile ritual. His eyes flick back to the illuminated lines above them, the rudimentary drawing still hanging in the air.]

Hm.

[He gently waves away the illusion.]

Perhaps I should shift my focus on simply keeping you safe for the time being. Or safer until we have more information.

[Astarion looks over to him, tracking the crease in his brow, the worry in the slant of his lips. They've just begun whatever it is that's between them but already he's burdening Gale with the ghosts of his past. He gives a sigh of his own, reaching up to cup Gale's cheek in his hand, turning his gaze away from the after images of his illusion.]

Dear, I do appreciate the thought. But don't feel as though you must worry yourself sick over my protection.

[Despite his worry, Gale can't help how he smiles as Astarion turns his head and catches his eyes. The concern in his brow is tempered by how smitten he is.]

I must distract myself from the orb somehow, lest it swallow my every thought. Might as well put those midnight musings to good use.

[Sorry Astarion, this is just how he is: a man of soul-crushing devotion.]

I would want to do something about that terrible orb as well. It seems cruel that I haven't had the pleasure of tasting your blood.

[He trails his fingers down the dark lines that creep up Gale's neck, pressing lightly over the beat of his pulse.]

[His pulse picks up a smidge as Astarion runs those cool fingers down the warm skin of his neck.]

It's for the best. I'm sure I taste positively vile.

Which is honestly a shame. You look like you would be such a treat.

I have been told before that I'm quite a snack. You're welcome to nibble wherever and whenever you like - just watch the fangs.

[His smile turns a little strained at the suggestion. He takes a pause to breathe in and calm himself.]

Maybe another time.

[Hazy as he is, Gale picks up on that shift in expression, the barest thread of tension in Astarion's lips, the way he takes a beat. He averts his eyes, fighting embarrassment.]

Of course. Sorry, I- got carried away with the conversation.

[Astarion shakes his head, finding Gale's hand in his and squeezing it.]

I was enticing you, darling. It just suddenly felt wrong.

How so? Tell me.

[Astarion opens his mouth, closes it, then frowns and looks away, towards the colorful fabric of his tent. He's trying to gather the words, but it's more difficult than he imagined to express this. To just tell Gale the honest truth of a feeling that's only recently come to the forefront for him. When he does speak, it's quieter than his usual tone, more somber.]

Just the thought of it. I saw myself with my mouth on you, my teeth on you, but then it wasn't you, it was shadows of all the ones who I've had before. And I could hear his voice in the back of my mind ordering it, demanding it in the same breath that he would use to degrade me. To tell me I was less than nothing for debasing myself like that.

[Gale shifts onto his side to face Astarion, giving his hand another reassuring squeeze. He generally doesn't enjoy seeing anyone struggle, but particularly the man he's come to care for, for whom Gale has conflicting and powerful emotions, but is determined to help at any cost. He does not do things in half-measures if he can help it.]

We don't have to speak of it any more, if that is what you wish. I'm sure it feels like an eternity away, but one day, hopefully soon - he will be gone.

[Astarion tightens his hold on Gale's hand, solidly holding on him even if he can't look his way quite yet.]

It's not a hope. I will kill him for what he's done to me. What he's taken from me.

But I do...I want to be able to have something more with you.

I'd like that. Someday, whenever you are ready - it could be the day Cazador dies or a hundred years from now when all that he ever was has turned to dust. Now that I'm not quite the uncontrollable, walking cataclysm I once was, I can be patient.

[Or course, the bomb wasn't his only problem, given the tadpoles, the Netherbrain, and the end-of-the-world scenario they are quickly approaching, but those are a given.]

[Astarion finally turns to look back at Gale, favoring him with a soft smile.]

You really are quite wonderful, you know.

[Gale would do anything for that smile. Something about it and the way Astarion's curls frame his face makes Gale's heart sing.]

I'm told I'm quite a catch in the right circumstances. Must be the beard oil. I'll have to thank the man who gave me that advice.

Oh? And what will you do to thank him?

[He smirks.]

What would you suggest? I bought him wine last time, and I'm not sure how good of an idea that turned out to be, since I ended up having more of it than he did.

You do look quite lovely with your cheeks flushed.

Perhaps, but my mind feels so muddled. Do you have any idea how hard it is to string words together when looking at you?

You seem to be faring quite well. I'd hate to think I'd stunned someone as eloquent as you into silence.

It might take a stronger drink than Undermountain Alurlyath for that, but I'm sure with the right look in your eyes, you could manage to stun me all on your own. It's not your looks, mind you, incredible as you know they are - it's how you make me feel when I look at you.

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