goodmorrow | Event: It Speaks of My Death, but I Am Unafraid

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!event

Event: It Speaks of My Death, but I Am Unafraid

it speaks of my death,
but i am unafraid

autumn squashed | devotion | clairvoyance | ooc notes

all hallowed plays

Autumn Squashed As the brisk autumn air bites and the sun reigns for less and less time each day, the farmworkers happily begin to share the fruits of their efforts. The group of gourds is bountiful this season, praise be to the Old Ones, and the offerings from the local cooks has adjusted accordingly. Hearty bowls of squash soup abound, creamy and loaded with heavy calories to facilitate hard labor outdoors. All these strapping novitiate lads can surely set their minds to rest and help out more than they have been

The children of the village also appear to be enjoying the season, grabbing the leftover vegetable shells and carving creatures into their skins. The result of their creativity is that the town has started to glow at night, lit by the ethereal radiance of dozens of candles filtered by the grinning shapes just barely shading them. It all seems to normal, as long as you aren't outdoors too late.

Just past midnight, when the moon has reached its height, the carvings seem to find their own cravings. Something about the moonlight seems to resonate with that of the lanterns and prompts them to sprout from the ground on gangly, misshapen bodies of their own. From then until dawn, they wandeer the town like sentries, hissing warnings in the incomprehensible tongue of the Old Ones. They aren't harmful if left unprovoked, but will retaliate if they encounter violence from those prone to beast-slaying. It is advised to stay indoors to avoid becoming gored by a gourd.

if we die tomorrow

Devotion The day of Devotion sends a thrum of excitement around the town every time it happens. It is an honor to be allowed to show the Old Ones that the community accepts and cherishes the watchful eyes looking over them. It is a time to meet with their own wretchedness and come to terms with the insignificance of their lives. This month is intended to be a celebration of longevity and the centuries-long legacy both behind and ahead. Those who attend the Devotion receive an anonymizing mask to shield their identities from all but the eyes above. They are encouraged to ply themselves on food and drink before the start of the ritual itself.

The speeches are long and droning as ever, detailing the infinitesimal smallness of humanity and the thrumming wait for the end of all things. And once the elders begin to chant in more ancient words, the rhythm of the unpronounceable syllables feels safe somehow. There is protection in the ceremony, an assurance that these chosen few are the ones who will live to watch the end of everything else. Those who truly believe will see it in their minds' eye: a rain of fire consuming the home they remember best. Corpses left unburied while the survivors flee. A sky cracking open to reveal an indigo thunderstorm. Skeptics might only witness confusing flashes, but all will bear witness to some version of The End.

When the visions subside, the affected will feel an urge to behave as if the gathering is the last day of their lives. Throw caution to the wind. Live dangerously. Tell that special person they are loved. Carry out the vengeance that weighs on your spirit. It'll all be over soon. Make the evening count.

the future refused to change

Clairvoyance After the masque ends, participants are free to remove their veils and return to their everyday lives. It's something the townsfolk historically do with ease. They never seem to struggle when coming down from the emotional highs of the devotional acts. But the comedown is never quite as simple as they make it look.

Those who were present at Devotion will experience small aftershocks for days afterward. Without warning, they will see visions of doom about the people around them. It might be a simple precognition, like seeing someone fell into an open pit while there's still enough time to pull them out of harm's way. But other times, the visions are more graphic or disturbing, such as watching that same friend be mauled by a bear or stretched out on the rack until they are rent limb from limb. Each look into the future seems more grotesque and awful than the one before, but at least there's time to change things before the worst of it arrives. Surely there's time.

As they drop off clean laundry and fresh gossip, the washerwomen insist that these visions, varied and sometimes entirely untrue, are the latest gift from the Old ones. It is proof that the town remains blessed.

ooc notes

It's an event! Hopefully there's something to your liking.

Regarding the pumpkin monsters in particular, this seems like a group that likes to randomize battles. If you're in the mood to roll for initiative and see how things pan out, here are some stats for appropriate critters: Pumpkin King, Pumpkin Tendril, and some smaller chompy pumpkins.

With regard to the precognition side of things, there's a lot of room for visions. They can be "something that definitely will happen" regardless of what a character tries to change things, "something that could happen but is prevented by a quick-acting psychic," or "something that will never happen but sends a character into a panic anyway." People seeing a doomsday vision at Devotion are welcome to envision the worst possible bad ending their canon has to offer.

Have fun giving your characters a little spook during the appropriate season!

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[ Astarion should feel very accomplished with himself that he managed to make a wizard absolutely dumb, stealing his intelligence score and replacing it with a underlying hum of absolute docility-- there may not be any time left for Astarion to rile up more quips from Gale but this may be pleasant because it did not ask for either of them to dwell on why this felt 'more than this', the only requirement was that tender buzzing in his head.

That turned into static, caused a shot of absolute lust to electrify through him. He had read some rather spicy things in his life, of course he had but it had not prepared him for the reality of Astarion's tongue wantonly licking at his own dripped come in the most filthy way possible. Honestly, his imagination broke him and his mouth parted as if expecting the vampire to finish the job.

That gasp that left him before tongue sank into his mouth and he had to grip the other man like a lifeline.

Eyes shuttered close as awareness filtered through him that if Astarion had asked that first night, he would've given him this in all aspects; wanton and liquid while his cock twitched under trousers in response.

He had thought about how he had enjoyed Astarion's teeth buried in his skin a little too much, and how his hand had strayed under covers. He could never admit to Astarion that, there was that lingering last thread of pride that he was going to cling to until it was no longer possible to do so.

And it probably was not wholly fair that Gale's voice was a symphony of muffled moans against Astarion's. ]

[Oh the vampire was indeed quite proud of himself for the accomplishment, if only for the way that Gale looked so utterly blissed out, even without an ounce of attention paid to his own obvious state of arousal. Astarion meant to correct that quite soon, of course, but for the moment he was caught up in kiss the wizard senseless with the taste of his own come on both their tongues.

He liked it, perhaps too much, the way that Gale clung to him, the way he responded to his kiss. He'd wanted Gale, longer than he'd admitted to himself before this moment. But yes, that first night, he'd wanted to taste Gale's lips the same way he'd tasted his blood, more even than the blood perhaps, if he were being honest with himself. Honesty was hard though, especially when he was so caught up swallowing down every glorious little moan that Gale made for him.

Eventually he broke from the kiss, reluctant, leaning his forehead against the wizard's gently, hands still cradling either side of his neck.]

What a perfect boy... [He purred to him.] You deserve to be rewarded, pet. Let me reward you?

[One hand quit its place to slip downwards, between them to very pointedly cup at Gale's cock through the fabric of his trousers.] Tell me what you want? Tell me what will have you making more of those delicious sounds for me?

[ Gale had never been asked for what he wanted, he was the equivalent of the Goddess Mystra's wizard housewife who was uncertain of what to do other than please Mystra and that was a rather big shame; he had always figured that he was a male and rather eager to please and that he wanted whatever Mystra did.

He was not the sort of man who would take for himself.

So as Astarion's mouth drew away and that question came, and then his brows furrowed before he opened his eyes. The first view of those brown eyes like dark hidden forest pools-- and then came a groan as he felt the coolness of fingers even through cloth of his pants and then he he managed a very hoarse response. ]

That.. is nice. Keep doing that, touching me like that? [ Underneath fabric, there was a definite twitching, the outline was pressed stiff and certainly left very little to the imagination as to the length and girth of him. And then another rough groan. ] May I please.. have another kiss while you touch me?

[Gale looked at Astarion with those absurdly pretty dark eyes and Astarion realized -- with a vaguely terrified rush -- that he'd gone and lost his heart then and there to this ridiculous wizard. How could he not? With the confusion at what should have been so simple a question. But Astarion understood too well how it was not, not for Gale. Not for him.

They were broken men, jagged, incomplete pieces, and maybe there was some shred of that completion to be found in this desperate, defiant union at the end of all things.]

As you wish...

[A soft purr as he did exactly that, letting his fingers knead at him through his trousers, to learn the shape of him, the heavy hardness in his hand. He could think of several things he would very much like to do with it, but that was not the point. This was about what Gale wanted.]

How could I possibly say no? [A brush of his lips to Gale's, but he drew back before he let it truly become a proper kiss, just long enough to add.]

You may have whatever you want, my dear. I want to give you everything you want.

[Then he did kiss him properly, hungered but in no hurry, wanting to fully enjoy the taste of Gale's lips.]

[ That was such a loaded offer and it was in the whatever, the fact that Astarion left it so open-ended as if he deserved a choice. He'd deny it, of course he would-- but he had never had that with Mystra, she had entered his life as a young boy and had become his friend and then with the grace of a goddess she had groomed him into being what she desired.

A wizard, had honeypotted him with the Weave and the promise of power; given him things with the expectations that his loyalty would be built up into something absolute. So absolute that one day he'd fight other wizards in her honour. And then she could claim as the victor the best wizard, until the next one came along.

His tongue slipped against Astarion's as he rocked his hips against that palm of his hand. There was something needy about him in that moment that everything was offered to him-- a touch that worked him up slowly and tenderly. He'd never imagined that Astarion could be this tender when always upon speaking with him he rather got the impression of cut glass. When he pulled his lips away, it was with a husky sigh. ]

Take me to bed?

[Astarion did not know the full extent of Gale's past with Mystra, knew only the pieces that the wizard had chosen to share with the class, so to speak. He knew enough to not see the appeal, especially someone who would so easily try to encourage a man who had been her lover to use himself as a bomb. Absurd, truly. It would be an utter waste.

More of one than he'd ever admit out loud, but perhaps there was some hint to him thinking exactly that the way he kissed Gale, like he wanted to devour him, and not just for his blood. No, something fare more than that.

He would linger in the kiss as long as it lasted, enjoying the way that Gale rolled those hips towards his touch, the way he could feel the way his cock reacted to the passing of his hands. Somehow, it was the vampire who was half dazed when the kiss finally did break, eyes fluttering open to fit a bleary-eyed gaze on the wizard.

Oh but that request. He smiled.]

Yes, I think I will.

[He stood then, slowly, rising from where he'd still been mostly straddling Gale's knees. Without another word, he held his hands down to him to help pull the other man to his feet, waiting until Gale joined him standing. The bed was right there, of course, but Astarion stepped closer to Gale instead, one hand tugging at his shirt.] Wouldn't you be more comfortable wearing less, darling?

[ Once Gale rose to feet, he acknowledged the request to disrobe so he not so shyly started to work at the fastenings of his tunic which was a side sweep, until the fabric parted to reveal skin for Astarion's eyes. It was not smooth or perfect like Astarion's, hair crossed over his chest and then sieved down abdomen within a slender trail before it disappeared in trousers while the shirt fell to the floor.

Despite that space he occupied, his mind thundered with a torrent of blood, his body flush and filled with such a lovely dinner on all fronts-- and then he pushed his pants downward and oh, did that prick pop out, all flushed and eager-- glistening and slick, suffused with crimson. It was clear that he was aroused on this plain and possibly into the next one of wherever they found themselves in the next life.

He was not shy whatsoever, which was probably something that worked in his favor.

Somewhere in his mind tickled the fact that this felt much less one-night stand than it normally would, though it was technically one night. ]

[Astarion had already shed his shirt and took a fleeting moment to shimmy his trousers down from where they were barely hanging at his hips anyway. It was done quickly so he could pay attention to Gale disrobing, which was a genuinely enthralling sight. He found himself moving closer unconsciously, just a step, but it made it that much easier to reach a hand out to set it against his chest, to let his fingers run through the hair that grew there, not hiding the eager thrill at the touching.

His fingers followed that ever so helpful trail downward until he could wrap them properly around that now freed arousal. Oh, he liked that too. Another step closer and he brushed his nose along a bearded jawline, a dangerously affectionate little gesture that he'd curse himself for later, before his lips grazed there.]

Beautiful. Truly.

[He looked to the wizard through lowered lashes, deliberately coy.] But there... dressed properly for bed. Come, pet.

[ A flush suffused his cheeks before he made his way to the way to the edge of the bed where Astarion was perched like an enticing pact and promise. Why did he feel as such around Astarion-- perhaps it was the way that he had dipped his toes into subspace, except there was a bit of praise that had been woven within the encounter.

And he had always enjoyed being praised and it had been like silken honey from those lips, the way that the teeth lightly pressed against the lower lip, the cheekbones that could cut. An absolute symphony of pleasing things.

Astarion was like a church that he wished to worship at although he did not profess to ever being a cleric. He then sat down on the edge of the bed and very softly pressed his fingertips right against a hipbone, angular as it moved downward to form such a beautiful vee that would lead right to a prick that he had just but a few moments had lavished with attentions. And deep down, he could feel how the word 'pet' sent a shiver through him that was coloured with delight. ]

[There, that was exactly what Astarion wanted, nothing left between his roaming hands and Gale's body, nothing to get in their way any further, a decently soft bed waiting for them. But this was about what Gale wanted, especially with the way the wizard had looked at him when he'd put that simple question to him. The vampire smiled as that warm hand settled at his hip, his fingers moving to set against that hand before running their way slowly up Gale's arm, up his shoulder, the arch of his throat until he could catch the wizard's chin between his fingers.]

Your hands are warm. All of you is warm. I've come to like that very much.

[No harm in admitting it with the world at its end. Astarion leaned in, fingers still holding at Gale's chin, lips finding the wizard's with a soft, relieved sigh, as if he'd been waiting so long to get back to kissing him. His hand left its grip, settling against Gale's chest instead, dragging slowly downward until he could wrap his hand around the other man's cock once more, giving it a meaningful squeeze.]

Now... what are we going to do about this?

[He murmured the question with a thoughtful hum.] Would you like me to suck you off? I'd mind my fangs. Or would you like to fuck me? Though if you came before you made me come again, I'm afraid you'd have to be punished.

[He didn't make the rules. ...except no, yes, he did. Or would like to.]

[ The moment that Astarion slipped with his knee on one side of his hips, fingers wrapping around his as hard as sin cock while thickening droplets of precome danced against those artistic fingertips. His groan was decadent, his eyes sliding open just a little bit more as he made eye contact with the vampire, and then he leaned in and felt that mouth, how it was almost like he was being given a touch that was more divine that he had ever felt before in his life.

Back in, as if to attempt to catch those lips again and to taste the subtle taste of copper and cinnamon on those lips as if they were a wine and he was woefully too sober for this.

A hitched breath at the thought of being punished, and why did Astarion make it quite like he would enjoy the trip through such a punishment tableaux. And then he has to think of what he wants, that the other man was allowing him to have something that he wanted. There was no taking, and he was content with that.

Gale Dekarios was absolutely entranced by the man, held in some sort of thrall-- although it was hard for him to say the word fuck, it was his own sensibilities which he had to cut through and he managed a very succinct and yet still incredulous. ] I could.. have you?

[ Astarion would likely have to indoctrinate him into dirty talk though that may be when his wits were a bit more about him. ]

[Oh he heard that hitch of breath, and he had to fight a smile. He was learning things about this pretty wizard that he wished he had known before. Tragic to know it only at the end, but he would make the most of what they did have. He'd had so much less than this for so fucking long, it would figure when time finally threatened to truly end that he finally found something. Whatever this was.

There was no time for regret, not now not here. He would not ruin this moment, would ruin none of this. He wouldn't dare.

And there was Gale looking at him with that disbelieving look, and it made Astarion want to give him everything. And it made him want to ruin him in the most exquisite way he could, to draw the filthiest things out of that pretty, proper mouth and all its spells and poetry.]

I told you, darling. You can have whatever you want... [He purred the words.] And I... well, I want you.

[Astarion would teach him so much, if only there were time.]

[ his breath was caught like a butterfly in a net and he could feel all his heat go right to his eyes; that was accompanied by a swallow as he leaned backward on his forearms as he watched how Astarion loomed over him, crowding his space.

The only thing he could register was how intimate it was to he focused on by the Vampire, and the "I want you" which was more than what he had felt for so long in that he absolutely craved, being the center of someone's universe.. pulling them into his orbit as they formed a private universe of two.

The way he was splayed now was a very distinct invitation-- all that flushed skin, the subtle human scars, the lines of imperfections-- a scar running across his knee trom where he had attempted to show off as a 15 year old, or the more recent case of hubris where that scar over the middle of his upper chest and how the skin was not as smooth there. ]

I am not.. demanding.

[ He breathed as he took that hand and drew Astarion onto the bed, closer as he looked into those eyes ] Anything you choose to give me shall be more than enough.

I know.

[Astarion breathed the words in a low purr.]

And that's why I'm happy to give...

[There were no demands, no forcing of the issues, there was only Gale who looked so surprised to be given the offer. A flash of something he'd have to call anger at the realization of where that came from, where the wizard looking so shocked at being asked and offered what he wanted had originated. Gale's goddess was clearly a waste of a deity.

He followed Gale further onto the bed, nearer now, leaning in all the closer and urging Gale back, so that the other man would lie back for him.]

You have no idea how much you deserve, do you? [He heaved a heavy and extremely put upon sigh.] Well, that leaves it to me to show you. Tell me you have something useful nearby? Scented oil? Anything?

[ If Gale was not so enchanted by Astarion in these final moments, he would've likely quipped something. But no, he was enjoying this with carefully held breath, pushing himself backward just a bit more so that he was not awkwardly hanging off of it. The question though, he was running through the contents of what he had. There was some scented oil that he used for his beard.

That could potentially work.

If he had more time, if they had more time he would invest in some proper oils-- that is if Astarion wanted a second time. But what he was doing thinking of beyond this night even though he was hopeful. ]

I have some oils on the beside table, it's used for my ah.. scruff, if you think that will work. [ Although it was certain that they could improvise if needed, there were ways to prepare without the use of oils, it was just altogether much more convenient overall ]

[Oh. Well, yes, Astarion knew that oil, didn't he? Knew the by now familiar scent of Gale as he inhaled so close to that beard, his skin, the moments before he sank his fangs into that precious neck. Oh yes, that would more than do for their purposes.]

Wonderful. Yes, we can make that work.

[The vampire reached across Gale, leaning quite close in the process, opening the drawer and fishing out the bottle. As he shifted back, he resettled himself straddling Gale's thighs and opened the bottle. That familiar scent suffused the air and Astarion couldn't help a pleased smile as he poured a liberal amount on his fingers.]

This time. I'll expect something sweeter smelling next time.

[Next time. As if the world weren't ending tonight. As if, even it weren't, Gale would ever want to... Well, to hell with those thoughts now. They had no place in this limited time. He reached behind himself with oil-slick fingers, no hesitation before he pressed one, then another inside himself, hissing softly.]

Ah yes, next time.

[ Easy to think that this was not the end of the world, that this could go on. Gale was drunk on lust and something else, an overwhelming need to seize the time that they had, to cherish it for what it was-- a finale before the finale. His eyes felt hazed and overpoweringly aroused, eyes blown to voids dark and infinite.

The scent of the beard oil filled him, dark blood orange and sandlewood-- it was a strong scent, nothing light nor dancing about it, and the fact that Astarion was using it to prepare himself (he could hear the preparation, the way that fingers worked against teased hole, causing himself to throb painfully against Astarion's thigh. It was there, brushing ramrod straight against cooler skin.

He'd brew the sweetest smelling oils; something scenting of honey and vanilla, something sweet-- something that he could drizzle against all of Astarion's secret places and then conversely lap it up; gladly he would do it-- worship the other man as if he were a god, ecclesiastics born of tongue and kisses. ]

[It was more pleasing than he cared to admit to himself to hear Gale speak of a next time, even if it would never come. He'd still appreciate the thought of it, rather greatly if he were being honest with himself. Just as much as he appreciated looking into those lust-blown eyes, and wasn't that a pretty sight?

He swallowed back a sound as he spread himself with his fingers, hesitating a moment and glancing down to see Gale's prick hard and eager against his thigh and decided that a third finger might be in order. His back arched sharply, another soft hiss as he spared this extra few seconds before his patience ran out entirely.

Astarion wanted him, and now. And though he'd already come once, his own arousal was stirring once more. After all, he'd told Gale he expected to be made to come again before the wizard would be permitted to have his own release. He'd meant it.

Slick fingers pulled free of himself and found their way around the wizard's staff, smearing more of that scented oil along him, mingled with the precome he found there. He shifted up on his knees, positioning himself, guiding Gale's cock so that he could let the head nudge against his hole, rolling his hips but not enough to take him inside. Not yet. Instead, he looked to the other man with a smile.]

Tell me you want me?

[ This was such an exquisite edging, the likes of which he could not very well enumerate how blissful it was; to not have thoughts plauging his ever-worrying mind. To focus on this moment and the way that Astarion's melodious voice all but sang for him, as if he was a gift.

And it triggered something inside of him that could not be contained. ]

I want to please you, I want you-- I want to feel you quake around my arousal, to know that I did that to you, please.. [ There was something so very desperate about the wizard in this moment, not even for artefacts was he this desperate, this near unhinged with desire. It did not help that he could hear the delicious way that Astarion prepared himself for him. White lust overtook him at he very greedily arched his hips, bucking upward to draw attention to the fact that he ultimately was here for the vampire's pleasure.

The very last time, and by gods he wanted to enjoy it and savor it, perhaps carry that memory to his next life, whatever that may entail. ]

[Astarion wondered if Gale was intentionally trying to undo him with words. Wasn't the vampire the one who was supposed to have a silver tongue here? But no, here was Gale of Waterdeep, wizard extraordinaire, using his words to dismantle Astarion piece by piece. He may have been the one to ask Gale to say it, but he was somehow not prepared for the words regardless.]

How could I possibly say no when you ask so sweetly? When I want you so much too?

[And there was the crux of it. They both wanted each other, and that was something entirely novel for Astarion. Gale was not some targeted victim he'd been set upon, not a mistake in the making. It really was a tragedy they hadn't acted sooner, before the end.

But he would make of it such an end. A soft, startled groan as Gale bucked against him, as that slick arousal went sliding along his ass. Fuck. He rolled his own hips, reaching below to wrap his fingers around the wizard's cock, positioning him and finally pressing his ass don and taking that prick inside, voice breaking on a soft, wordless sound as he felt his body begin to yield around that length.]

[ His mouth formed an 'oh' the moment that Astarion slid downward upon his shaft, and because of the preparation, the other man was as slick as the precome that had beaded and fell down Gale's own hungry prick, helping to ease the way. He looked delightfully confused and disarmed all in this sole moment, sweetly begging for more-- inch upon inch of Astarion to enrobe him.

It was hard to keep his hips from bucking further upward, he had to struggle so as to not take control. Touching that he did not, letting Astarion steer this as he needed and required it. He would match the rhythem but he was allowing Astarion that control, slipping it into slender fingers to manipulate at will.

And he needed this, wanted to be exactly that for his lover. Give him autonomy, which may be a bad idea in general but what was the least that it could do? Kill him? The end was already nigh and he was feeling rather like tempting fate with how that body felt over him. What he did do though was rub his palms up that abdomnen, chest and them his thumbs brushed against the ice points of nipples with fingertips that rather felt like concentrated heady heat ]

[Astarion could feel the tension in the other man as Gale wrestled with his restraint to allow the vampire to remain in control. Oh he did like that, and made no secret of how much he was enjoying all of this, the feeling of oh so slowing being filled by Gale's length, at his own leisurely, luxuriant pace as he impaled himself inch by painstakingly sweet inch.]

Oh... there you are, darling. Filling me up so perfectly...

[He set a hand against Gale's chest, to steady himself as he finally came to settle, Gale's prick fully sheathed inside him. Stilling for a moment to let his gaze greedily take in the wizard's features, arching into those questing, warm hands, hissing his approval as fingertips teased at his nipples.

Another moment, and he rolled his hips, head falling back with a groan. His own cock seemed to answer, aroused again and quite ready for whatever Gale had to give him.]

How do you feel? [Another roll of hi ships, not really rising off him so much as rutting, grinding against him.] Is it good, pet?

[ Gale felt.. perfect. He barely even had to assess it, but that Astarion's hips started to move back and forth and managed to take him as well. There was no control that he had over this but in this moment, he wanted to feel exactly like that-- to know that he was giving Astarion such indescribable pleasure; though the hisses and moans communicated quite winningly.

The affectionate name hit in the exact right way; the vampire could call him 'darling' in that tone of voice and he would die happily.

Astarion was sitting up straight which definitely allowed for his eyes to move up and down that body, the curve of it-- eyes to drink in the vampire like fine wine in the most exquisitely crafted goblet, and for him he was drinking him up with his eyes as a kaleidoscope of pleasure sheened through them. ]

I feel like if this is my last memory of this world-- it will be a very good one-- like the last glimmering star left in the sky.. [ And fuck if he did not move one hand upward, stroking against a neck and then cupping that jawline to brush his thumb lightly there, a treasure even amidst the raw hungry coupling, through it he wanted to feel like this meant something.

He could not do anything like this without it meaning something. That was his downfall, and he was rather grateful that Astarion was allowing him that illusion. ]

[Astarion was discovering that he liked Gale's eyes on him. He'd been a creature of the shadows too long, perhaps, and coming out fully into the light, into Gale's light, he craved the attention, the knowledge that he was seen. Truly seen. Maybe it was too much to place on a desperate one night, last night coming together, but he had no defense against those damnably gorgeous brown eyes.

Slowly he rose up off Gale, until his cock had nearly slipped free entirely before rolling his hips back down, slow and deliberate, as if he fully intended on drawing this out, on taking up every last moment they had left to them. That hand was warm against his neck and he set his own hand atop it, chill fingers curling gently, to hold Gale there, even as he turned his head to graze his lips against the inside of the other man's wrist, pressed to where he could feel that pulse beating so sweetly.

But he did not bite, instead he looked down to Gale through lowered lashes, still moving on him, more insistent with each rise and fall.]

That tongue of yours may be more dangerous than your spells... [Silvered as it was. The words didn't stop him from nuzzling into that warm hand.] But, yes... if this is the end, I cannot imagine spending it an other way than basking in your warmth.

[ He did not know why it especially affected him that Astarion pressed kisses against his wrist without biting at it, scraping teeth against it. Intimate, it felt deliciously intimate for him and his eyes softened into something that resembled dark brown butter as he used his own hips and pistoned them upward; engaging in back and forth now-- weaving his own movements into Astarion's.

Underneath them, he could feel the bed start to quiver under the duress of their bodies and the momentum that they were casting against each other. The faintest sheen of sweat from his own very mortal body, glistening and with the scent of musk.. a combination made up of many different factors. ]

Tell me if this is alright, lovely. [ His hand slipped to the back of Astarion's neck where he palmed it, sliding fingers through the curls there at the nape, soft and silky. He was a very tactile man, such was the truth and if there was anything that he wanted the most, it was to touch his lover, to enjoy the sensuality of exploring every inch of skin even if it was in such seemingly innocent manner.

His goal was to, despite their body talking, to convey how much he appreciated these final moments. ]

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