#gale x f!oc

[loviatarsluv]

Would That I

"It's not tonight

Where I'm set alight

And I blink in sight

of your blinding light"

(all credits to the op of this gif!!!!!)

pairing: Gale x f!tav (my own oc, Elara)

(takes place in an AU where the absolute and the cult basically don't exist so this is non-canon compliant, I guess)

rating: mature (mostly pretty tame, but gets a little spicy toward the end ;) )

CW: yearning and pining, mentions of family member death, an interrupted bath, gale being precious, tara being equally as precious, and last but not least, (m) masturbation (HEHEHE)

in summary: Elara has been sent to stay with Gale of Waterdeep whilst her uncle is gone, and becomes his assistant/apprentice of sorts, and in the meanwhile is crushing on him so hard that she can barely even stand being around him. (real asf honestly) little does she know, he is equally as besotted just slightly better at hiding it (or maybe she's just clueless) and ends up having to let out his feelings somehow … ;)

a/n: I've been wanting to write a sweet romantic gale fic that did not take place during the canon of the game and let gale have tara with him and be in waterdeep and all the other things he deserves so here it is!!! this will definitely be an ongoing series, i'm not sure how long but i love a good slow burn so we'll see :)

word count: 8.2k (I know this one's a long one buckle in besties)

She’s always loved the color brown. 

It was easily one of the most overlooked colors— one we so easily take for granted. Yet, some of the most lovely things in life appear in the warmest shades of brown. 

A cup of hot tea on a chilly day while the rain pours and patters against the windows. The leather bindings of her favorite book that brought her boundless comfort more times than any one person ever had, worn from the years of reading it and tucking it into her bag so that it was always at her side. The rough bark of the great oak tree near her home in Waterdeep— well, someone else’s home that she just so happened to occupy space in. 

She spends many mornings sitting on the roots of that tree, the large and weathered trunk shielding her from the harsh rays of the rising morning sun, either reading a book she nabbed from the library in her boss’ office or scribbling nonsense in her notebook. Occasionally her boss’ tressym companion, Tara,  joins her, sitting beside her and allowing the sun to warm just the back half of her, basking her fur and wings in a beautiful golden glow. There are brown spots on her fur. She’s lovely. 

The loveliest of things, though, were the things she tried with everything within her not to think about— like Gale Dekarios’ long chestnut brown hair, or the silver streaks that adorned the dark waves near the top of his head like it were a crown atop a prince’s, and the way he would tie it back into a messy half updo that perfectly accentuated his face and neck. The small pieces of hair that would fall into his eyes that she so desperately wanted to brush away. His perfectly groomed facial hair that had matching gray streaks and how he’d run his hands through the hair on his cheeks or rake his fingers through his hair when he was deep in thought. 

And his eyes— gods, his damned eyes. So warm and kind and full of a genuine sweetness that she’d never seen in another person’s eyes before. Eyes that seemed to read her so well despite not knowing her for very long, especially when she least wanted her pages to be turned. Eyes that really seemed to see her. Many had looked at her before— none had ever really seen her. Eyes that when in the right lighting, appeared golden, like the richest honey in all of Faerun. 

No, she certainly didn’t think about it. Not often, really. Only when his hands would brush against hers as he took the scroll from her hands that he’d asked her to fetch for him. Or when he would utter a groggy but kindhearted good morning to her as he ambled into the kitchen first thing in the morning, the first light of dawn breaking through the parted dark velvet curtains that drape over the large windows and beaming on him in just the right way to make him appear otherworldly. Or when she would fall asleep on the chaise in the study and wake to find a blanket draped over her body. 

Not often. Not really. 

She’d begun working for him (he loathed referring to what she did for him as working for him, and preferred words like ‘assist’ or ‘help’, he always said it made him sound like a tyrant) just around six months ago, him having taken her in somewhat as a favor to her uncle Alastor, who had been good friends with him for quite some time. She was never sure how their friendship came to be, but she never really asked. They were a strange pair in her opinion, her uncle being significantly older than Gale, who seemed to be somewhere around his early to mid thirties, based on her estimations. She was closer in age to Gale than Gale was to her uncle. 

Alastor essentially raised her, as her parents passed just before the nearing of her fifth birthday. He took her in with open arms, naturally— but in truth, she always knew that he’d never planned or intended to cater his life to caring for and raising a child. He was a rather adventurous and solitary wizard, and before he’d taken her in, he had been to the furthest edge of the Sword Coast and back several times over, even explored the vast expanse of the Underdark a handful of times. He told the best bedtime stories. 

As she got older, over time she noticed him get… strange. He was already a strange and rather eccentric man, but as the years passed he almost seemed to become a different person entirely. Still kind, still the same fun loving and gentle man he’d always been, just… lost, almost. He always seemed as if he were meant to be somewhere else, and had just taken a wrong turn and somehow ended up where he was. Like the clock was ticking and he was on track to be late for something, but she could never figure out what for. And in the months leading up to him sending her off to Waterdeep, he almost seemed to retreat into himself entirely, rarely leaving his chaotic and disordered sty of a study that she would often offer to clean and organize for him, only for him to wave her off and tell her not to worry. 

She always worried. How could she not? He was the only living family she had left. He was the only true friend she had in the world. 

On one particular night, the night he sent for Gale to come over under the guise of a friendly dinner, he seemed unusually ordinary. Normal. Almost as if he were his old self again. If it didn’t scare her so much, she would’ve been overjoyed to see the still eccentric, but wise and happy man that raised her once again. 

That was the first time she had ever truly met Gale Dekarios. 

She had seen him a handful of times before in passing, as her and her uncle would run into him at the infamous Sorcerous Sundries— but the two of them had never exchanged a word. He would offer both of them a bright and friendly smile, and she would return it in kind. 

Her eyes would follow him as he walked away, trailing behind him as if she were trapped under a spell, her neck craning and watching him over her shoulder as he would disappear into the crowded city streets of Baldur’s Gate. Her uncle would tease her, jabbing his elbow into her side and wiggling his eyebrows. She would smack his arm and try desperately to hide the furious crimson blush in her cheeks, waving him off and dismissing his teasing. But he knew. Anyone who could’ve seen the look on her face when Gale Dekarios was around would know. 

This was the night wherein she officially met him— the first time she ever heard her own name repeated back to her as she introduced herself, as if he were trying to memorize it and memorize her along with it. The way her name sounded so much more beautiful in his voice and the way his lips wrapped around every syllable as he said it. The first time she saw those eyes— those damn eyes— and they saw her back. 

She hoped that he didn’t find her terribly rude after the fourth time she had to excuse herself to run upstairs and calm herself and the incessant fluttering in her chest and stomach as she spoke to him. She felt like a schoolgirl with her first crush all over again. Pathetic. Besotted. 

By the time she came back downstairs, she caught the tail end of the two men’s conversation, ducking behind a wall and eavesdropping. 

“You would be doing not only me a great kindness but also my dear Elara. I fear you may be her safest bet, for the time being.” She overhears Alastor say, his voice low as if he were attempting to whisper, but still loud enough to where she could hear him as clearly as if he were right in front of her. 

“I understand. She is more than welcome to come to my tower in Waterdeep— though, forgive me for not asking before, but is she aware of this arrangement?” Gale asks, concern still evident even in his hushed tone. 

There’s that fluttering again. 

Her uncle sighs heavily, releasing all of the air from his lungs and pausing for a moment in shameful silence before continuing. She assumed he shook his head before speaking. “I knew that if I proposed this to her, she would have said no. I have it in good authority that she may perhaps be very unhappy with me when she learns of this.” 

Anger was not the emotion she was feeling, far from it. Concern, perhaps. Confusion? Definitely. Anxiety? Without a doubt. 

Her head was spinning as she tried to wrap her mind around what she was hearing— why was her uncle concerned for her safety? And why was Gale Dekarios the one who could ensure it? 

Before another word could be exchanged between the two men, she emerged from her hiding spot, her shoulders hung low and her movements slow as if she were trying to avoid landmines from going off under the weight of her feet. Their heads snap up in her direction, and immediately they catch on. Gale gives her a sympathetic look that she immediately has to avert her gaze from. Alastor bears the look of someone regretful, but not entirely. Hopeful, almost. 

“Elara,” He breathes. “Assuming you heard most, if not all, of our conversation, what are your thoughts?” The older man sitting at the far end of the dinner table asks, his tone simply inquisitive, versus that of someone who just got caught trying to pull a fast one. 

None, really. None that she could express eloquently or with any sort of grace and dignity, at least. 

“Where are you going?” She asks, her voice emotionless and calm in spite of the storm of emotion brewing within. 

Alastor gives her a pleading look, as if he was begging her not to ask a million questions like he knew she likely planned to. Only because he knew he had no answers that he could freely offer her that would suffice in easing your mind. 

“It won’t be for too terribly long. Though, in the meantime, perhaps Mr. Dekarios could pick up on your old man’s slack and actually teach you some damn magic.” The older man jokes, receiving no laughter in response. 

She and Gale exchange a glance, almost as if they were surveying each other. He seemed to be studying her facial expressions and attempting to gauge her feelings on this whole situation, and basing his responses on her. It made her cheeks burn so hot she feared that she may break into a sweat. 

She had heard of his magical prowess and acclaim in the wizarding world through the overheard hushed conversations of fellow wizards gossiping about him while she browsed Sorcerous Sundries. She had no doubt at all that he would be an excellent teacher— he just seemed like he would, even based on her limited interactions with him. So that was not something she was even slightly opposed to— if anything, it sparked a buried and long forgotten childish excitement in her. 

She’d been wanting to learn or study the arcane arts for years, but for some reason her uncle Alastor always had an excuse against it. She picked up on small things and simple incantations that helped her tidy the house better or even minor illusions just for her own entertainment, but she always wanted to learn more. 

That was far from being her main concern, her main concern being oh gods, how in the nine hells am I supposed to live with a man that I can’t even bare to be in the same room with for too long before needing to leave and calm myself so I don’t appear like a love stricken puppy under his gaze? 

Aside from that, her concern for her uncle had begun to set in as she really digested what was being proposed and why it seemed to be getting thrust upon her— where on all of Faerun could he be going that he couldn’t take her with him? That he didn’t want to take her with him? She had never adventured with him before, he never allowed it— but that didn’t mean she hadn’t wanted to or begged him to let her go with him just once. He said no, obviously. Every time. It never stopped her from trying, though. 

She knew her uncle well enough to know that whatever it was had to be quite important, if he were sending her off like this. She trusted him, more than anyone in the world. So who was she to argue? 

“Are you okay? With all of this?” Gale asked her, standing and crossing the room, approaching her tentatively but not coming too close. 

Okay was ill fitting to describe her feelings toward this situation, but there really wasn’t another word to replace it with. So she just nodded, not offering any more explanation as she was petrified of anything that might come out of her mouth at that moment. 

Gale continued to watch her, as if he were waiting for her to do something— burst into tears, shout, curse them both out, anything— only for her to stay planted in the spot she stood in the middle of what would only be her home for a handful of days more. The only home she ever truly knew. 

Gale and Alastor continued to discuss the details while she began tidying the mess that had made of the kitchen by the tornado of a man in the other room, and zoned out as she scrubbed the same spot on one of the dishes for what felt like hours, only returning to reality when she felt a warm and ridiculously soft hand very gently take the plate from hers. Her eyes shot up to meet his, his body dangerously close to her as he offered her a friendly smile. 

“Allow me. You should probably rest up as much as you can. You know— before the big move.” He offers, somehow managing to mash gentlemanliness and awkwardness together into one terribly endearing sentence. 

Gods, this is going to be rough. 

She stared up at him through round eyes, just now noticing the significant height difference between the two of them now that he was as close to her as he was. Yet another thing to add to the growing list of things she needed to not think about if she wanted to preserve the last few crumbles of her own sanity. 

She steps aside after a moment, not uttering a word to him but giving her best attempt at a thankful smile, then runs upstairs to her room and flops onto the comforts of her bed for what was one of the final times she would be able to for gods know how long. She savored the last few nights in the room that she’d spent her most formative years in. The room she dreamt in, cried in, discovered herself in, and fostered memories that she would eventually have to say goodbye to. 

Then the day she was set to leave finally came, but she didn’t feel as melancholy as she expected to feel. She’d spent the prior few days drowning in her own nostalgia as she visited every forgotten corner of her childhood home, rifling through her old toys and relics from before her parents passed, making sure to set aside the most sentimental things so that she could take them along with her. She shed a few tears here and there, but mostly she felt a selfish twinge of relief. 

As much as she loved her uncle, she had been craving a change in her life for so long now that she had made peace with eventually leaving long before Alastor had even considered sending her off with a man that was a complete stranger to her. 

But something about that added to the excitement— she was truly being thrown into the unknown head first. An unfamiliar city, an unfamiliar home, and an unfamiliar person that undoubtedly had a whole wealth of knowledge and stories to share with her. It was a lot of change, but she welcomed it eagerly. 

Though, eager as she was to leave, saying goodbye to her uncle proved to be a lot harder than anything else. 

She hugged him for as long as he would allow her to, clinging on to him and shoving her face into his worn out old robes and savoring the scent that she’d always associate with comfort— tobacco, sage, and a hint of his favorite wine— leaving behind a few small wet spots from the tears that she silently shed. He kissed the top of her head and placed his hands encouragingly on her shoulders, and gave her an affirmative nod. He had never been good with words when it came to expressing affection, but she didn’t feel like she needed it. He showed his care for her in so many other ways that words just seemed unnecessary. 

To be cared for is to be seen. To be loved is to be known. 

She wished him luck on his quest, whatever that may be, then disappeared into the portal that would take her straight to her new home. 

That day almost feels like a lifetime ago. Uncle Alastor checks in every once in a while, sending both her and Gale individual letters. She wants so badly to know what he had to say that was so different to Gale than what he says to her, or rather what he wants him to know and her to not—but she never lets curiosity get the best of her, regardless. 

The one he sent today was unusually brief and simple, assuring her that he was doing well and that he hoped to come by to visit sometime soon— as he’d been saying for months and had still yet to do so. 

She watched Gale read his as he sat at his large mahogany desk, his glasses sat just at the end of his nose and his brows furrowed as he read. His expression didn’t change or seem anything other than relaxed as he read, so she took that as a good sign. She relaxed slightly into the plush cushions of the chaise, a weight she didn’t realize she’d been bearing lifting off of her shoulders. 

She lounged in her favorite spot in his office where she would spend hours reading and researching with him, or where she would sit as she intently listened to him bestow her with random tidbits of knowledge that he found riveting, his cadence as he spoke about it making her feel just as excited by it as he was. 

“I wonder how many more times he’ll promise to visit before he actually does,” she jokes, breaking the comfortable silence. 

Gale huffs air from his nose, never looking up at her from the assortment of scrolls, parchment, and tomes scattered across the surface of his desk. “Knowing your uncle, he’s probably already forgotten he’d ever mentioned it by the time the letters made it to us.” 

She chuckles lightly and sighs, leaning her cheek against the top of the backing of the chaise. “I imagine you’re probably right.” 

Another comfortable silence fills the room, as it often did while Gale busied himself with whatever studies he found pressing enough to indulge in. She tried her best not to interrupt him or disturb him, just simply existed near him in the event he were to need her help or wanted to rant to someone about whatever was occupying his excellent mind. 

She quietly hops off of the lounger and pads over to the large open window on the other side of the large room, perching herself on the windowsill and gazing at the vast expanse of the ocean below, the sun shimmering on it in hues of orange and pink as it began to set. The breeze is pleasant and the faint salty scent of the ocean drifts with the wind and fills her senses. She closes her eyes and indulges in it for a few moments, feeling a kind of serenity that she hadn’t felt in a while. 

When she finally opens her eyes, she finds Gale has turned in his seat and is watching her with a peaceful grin on his face. She holds his gaze for a moment before she has to tear herself away, nervousness rumbling in her gut as she squirms under his intense gaze. 

“Would you like to go for a stroll? It’s a beautiful evening,” he asks, causing her to nearly topple over and fall out of the open window. Great. 

Gale jolts in his seat, preparing to rescue her from her own potential idiotic demise, before she quickly hops down and plants her feet firmly on the ground and shoots him a reassuring glance. 

“I don’t think my heart can handle being around you, at times,” he jokes. His eyes widen and his face pales, and he clears his throat nervously before he continues. “That’s the second— no, third— time you’ve nearly fallen out of that window. I’m starting to consider casting an arcane lock or an invisible shield on the damned thing.” 

Her stomach is doing flips and somersaults as she replays the words he’d said in her head a million times over, despite him quickly correcting himself. Little did he know, she felt very much the same way around him, but for an entirely different reason. 

“Sorry,” she whispers, her eyes dropping to the floor sheepishly. “I’ve never been exactly graceful.” 

He sighs, silently chuckling and shaking his head. “So I’ve gathered.” 

He stands and joins her in front of the window, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back slightly as he mimics what she’d done just moments prior, minus the potential self-defenestration. 

A stronger breeze passes, blowing back his chestnut waves and his lavish looking robes with it. His very slightly aged and weathered skin is bathed in the peachy hues from the sunset. She takes a moment to realize he’s much younger than he appears— she wonders if stress has aged him and caused his graying hair, and what could have stressed him so terribly that it physically affected him. 

“What do you say?” He asks, turning to her once again, his hands clasped behind his back. 

She swallows hard. The thought of a stroll in the warm twilight with Gale of Waterdeep was nearly too much for her heart to bear. She fiddles with the bottom hem of the blouse she was wearing, her gaze fixed on a random point far off into the horizon. 

Say yes. Say yes! 

“U-um, I’m actually not f-feeling very well… I may need to lie down for a bit. But perhaps… another time?” She stammers, her voice meek and unconvincing. At least to herself. 

Stupid, stupid. 

Gale nods, but is unable to completely hide his disappointment, a slight frown gracing his features that would almost be impossible to notice if it weren’t for his expressive eyes. Her heart nearly breaks at the way his brown irises resembled a puppy who’d just been denied a treat. Was it too late to take it back? 

“Are you alright? Is there anything I can do for you?” He takes a step closer, concern replacing the disappointment in his eyes as his brows softened and his hand raised as if he was going to reach for her, before quickly lowering it and dropping it to his side. 

Her body stiffens and her back straightens, her heart pounding. How did she get to this point— where something as simple as him extending base level kindness to her was enough to affect her this much? You’d think after living under his roof for half a year and getting to know him that these feelings would have subsided or dulled themselves by now— but if anything, the more time she spent with him, the more she ached to bridge that gap between them. To be close to him in every way, to tangle herself in him and pray the knot never loosens. 

But she had already accepted that such a thought was silly and childish— her juvenile crush on him would eventually subside and she would forget all about it, like it was never there to begin with. So for now, all she could do was endure. 

“I’m fine, really. I think I just… maybe I just need a nice relaxing bath, or something.” She offers, throwing it out meaninglessly then realizing that a hot bath sounded absolutely divine. 

An unreadable expression flashes across his face for a flicker of an instant before he recomposes, then smooths the front of his coat down with his hands and clears his throat. He offers her his usual warm grin, and nods. 

“By all means. Perhaps I’ll start dinner while you do. It should be done by the time you’ve finished.” 

She can’t hold back the nearly giddy smile that teases the corners of her mouth. He is so sweet. So genuine. 

She nods. “That sounds good. Thank you.” 

Without exchanging another word, they disperse, him retreating downstairs and her essentially running to her room to grab her towels and toiletries. 

She grabs two towels, one for her body and one for her hair, then the soap that she’d gotten the last time she went to the market to pick up a few of her personal essentials. The shopkeeper let her know that it was a special soap, made particularly with ingredients that had calming effects on the user. Perfect. 

She pads out of her room, closing the door behind her and making her way to the large bathroom at the far end of the hallway. 

Gale had a way of leaving his mark on every space he inhabited, and this bathroom was no exception. The room was cozy, draped in various deep purple curtains and several houseplants that looked as if they’d been cared for by the most skilled of botanists, not a single dead leaf or weak stem. There were robes hung on the wall closest to the large clawfoot tub on one end of the room— his robes. She mindlessly runs her hand across the soft fabric of one of them, noticing a small tear in the collar and a few scuffs and singed marks throughout it. She wonders what mischief he’d gotten himself into while wearing it, picturing him perhaps trying out a new spell and it backfiring on him. She smiles and chuckles quietly to herself. 

She tears herself away from her thoughts and his clothes, and approaches the tub, turning the ornate handle for the hot water and watching it run, slowly filling the marble basin. She perches herself on the edge of the tub, staring blankly into the rippling water. 

She thinks of how many times Gale had probably done the exact same thing as she was doing right now— how he would sink himself into the water and finally truly rest his weary and aching bones, and wash away the stresses of the day even if it were only for the small duration of him being enveloped in the comforts of a warm bath. She wonders if he ever— 

No. Another thing she absolutely could not think about. A thought to avoid at all costs if she intended on ever being able to look him in the eye again. It was hard enough already as it was.

The tub finally fills just as she shakes her head to clear herself of the beginnings of what were certainly very perverse and not very platonic thoughts, thankfully allowing her to now focus on something else. She quickly disrobes, folding her clothes neatly and setting them aside on the chair in the corner of the room— a habit she’d picked up from watching him do it. 

The room, apart from the heat radiating off of the water in the tub, is chilly against her flushed skin, instantly raising gooseflesh all over her as she peels away the thin layers of clothing she’d been wearing. The tile feels icy against the bare soles of her feet as she returns to the tub, reaching over and grabbing the soap off of the shelf she’d placed it on earlier as she begins to submerge herself. 

The second her body dipped below the surface and the warm water completely enveloped her, she felt all tension in her body release like it had never been there to begin with. She hadn’t even used the soap yet and she felt the calming effects of it from the smell alone as she dunked it underwater. Lavender and a hint of citrus. 

Sometimes she caught a whiff of lavender when the window in the kitchen was open and the breeze would jostle the lavender plant that sat on the sill. She remembered Gale telling her that he loved the smell of fresh lavender. Not that that was the reason she bought the soap. Not at all. Not really.

She takes her time scrubbing each inch of her body, savoring this moment of pure bliss and wondering why she’d never enjoyed baths as much prior to this one. By the time she’s done, she dreads abandoning the comforts of the marble tub, but due to her fingertips pruning she knows that she’d probably been in there longer than she needed to be, and Gale was surely done cooking dinner by now. 

She begins to stand, the water and whatever remaining suds rinsing off of her and splashing loudly as she does, which you’d think would have been enough of an audio cue that she was still occupying the bathroom and prevent Gale from bursting into the bathroom, much to both of their horror.

She lets out a startled shriek and attempts to maintain her modesty by covering herself with her hands, which barely achieved anything. Gale quickly shields his eyes with his own hand, stammering and stuttering incoherent apologies and curses.

“I— I thought—  your bedroom door was closed, so I assumed you were in there— forgive me! I just—  um—” He clamors over himself trying to make any sort of sense at all, never moving his hand an inch out of the way of his eyes, closing them tightly for good measure. “D-Dinner is finished and on the table waiting for you when you’re ready. Take your time.” 

He darts out of the room, slamming the door behind him and the sound of hurried footsteps down the hall preceding. 

Her heart pounds in her chest as if it were a wardrum and she’s almost certain that she might actually die of embarrassment. If she doesn’t resort to drowning herself in the leftover bathwater to avoid going downstairs and facing him, first. 

She stands there, frozen in place for far too long before she realizes that she was very much still naked and drenched as a shiver rakes down her spine and her teeth start to chatter. 

Fine. The world’s most awkward dinner ever, it is. 

She wraps one of the towels she brought around her body, then the other around her shoulders for extra coverage before peeking her head out of the door, checking if the coast was clear before dashing down the hallway and into the safety of her bedroom. 

Once inside, she shuts the door with a loud click, then leans against the wood and sighs. 

Within one singular day, within at least an hour of each other, she’d rejected him (unintentionally, mind you), and he’d seen her bare naked body. After half a year of living together and nothing strange ever occurring between them aside from occasional extended loaded eye contact and a smile that felt like it bore hidden intent here and there that she brushed off and assumed it was just a glimmer of hope clouding her judgment. 

Accidents happen though, and he just so happened to accidentally manage to walk into the bathroom at the exact moment her entire naked body was visible from the doorway. Things happen. It’s fine. 

She recalls him saying that her bedroom door was shut and that was why he assumed it was safe for him to come in. She’s not sure why him noticing something like that made her stomach twist and do flips as if she were tumbling very suddenly down a hill, but it did all the same. She wonders what other things he notices about her, if anything else at all. The thought makes her throat run dry.

She pulls on an oversized blouse that fell well past the top of her thighs as well as a comfortable pair of pants, feeling the need to cover as much of herself as possible to maybe cancel out the fact that he’d seen everything only moments ago. It didn’t work, of course, but it was worth a try. 

Realizing that he was probably sitting at the table and waiting for her before eating, as he always did, she finally forces herself to face the inevitable and join him downstairs.

She peeks around the corner and sees him exactly where she expected him to be— the same seat he always sat in for any meals, opposite the chair she always sat in, staring blankly down at his plate, massaging his temples with his fingertips. He looks equally as perturbed by their encounter as she does, and she can’t tell if that is a comfort to her or if it made her want to shrink and disappear. 

She catches a flash of auburn and gray fur as Tara flies in from an open window and perches herself on the table beside Gale. He doesn’t acknowledge her physically, but utters a quiet ‘hello’ that sounds more like a groan. 

“Mr. Dekarios, you look as though you’ve seen a ghost!” She chirps, pawing at his bicep with concern. “Where is my favorite reading companion? Have you finally scared her off?”

Gale swats her paw off of his arm and shoots her a look of annoyance. “Not now, Tara.”

“Did something happen between you two? About time, I say. I do rather like having her around, you know.” The feathered feline continues, pacing in front of Gale and nearly stepping right in the middle of his plate before he scoots it away.

“I fear she may run for the hills like a bat out of a crypt after today,” He groans. “I’ve made a complete ass of myself. It seems to be my specialty these days.” 

“Mr. Dekarios, I may just be a simple tressym but I have it on good authority she won’t go anywhere.” Tara says, her tone meaningful and full of insinuation as she pokes and prods Gale’s arm once again. 

He looks at his companion with soft eyes full of despair, his entire body seeming to sag in his seat in contrast to his usually perfect and poised posture. “I hope you’re right.”

Silence fills the room as Tara comfortingly bumps her head against Gale’s shoulder, eliciting a sweet smile from him that makes her insides feel fuzzy. She waits a few moments more before exiting the stairway so as to not appear suspicious or that she’d been eavesdropping. Her steps are extra quiet as she carefully tiptoes into the dining room. Tara notices her first and greets her warmly. 

“Elara! There you are! How are you, my friend?” Tara calls to her, strutting across the large wooden surface of the dinner table to her side, sitting right next to her plate. 

She glances at Gale for a brief moment, his eyes boring into her as if he were anticipating something terrible to come from her mouth. She offers him a shy smile, then turns her attention back to Tara. 

“I’m well, thank you. I missed you this morning, Tara. Find any juicy pigeons to snack on?” She jokes, patting her head gently. Tara purrs and bumps her head against Elara’s palm, almost appearing to smile at the affectionate gesture. Gale’s eyes darted back and forth between his two companions rapidly, an unreadable expression on his face. 

She tilts her head at him in a silent inquiry, to which he simply waves his hand and invites her to sit.

“Oh, yes, of course. You’ll have to come with me some day.” She offers, and Elara chuckles. As silly as it was, she knew how sweet it was for Tara to invite her to join her for a hunt, regardless of whether or not she ever actually would. 

“I’d love to.”

She pulls out the chair and sits, eyeing her plate and finding that somehow her food was still steaming hot as if it were fresh, while Gale’s appeared to have gone cold and stale. 

“I warmed it for you.” He says, answering her question before she even had the chance to ask. She smiles a grateful smile before taking a bite, not realizing how hungry she’d been until the very second the food landed on her taste buds.

They eat mostly in silence, aside from the sound of Gale’s fork scraping against the plate as he pushes his food around. She wants to ask why he didn’t bother to heat his own plate as well, but doesn’t want to pry. Perhaps he just wasn’t that hungry. 

The echoes of something she overheard Gale say in response to Tara’s teasing linger in her mind, reverberating off of the walls of her skull as if he’d shouted them into the mouth of a cave. 

I hope you’re right. 

He hoped she’d stay. He wants her to stay. 

The sound of Tara taking flight startles her from her thoughts, catching a glimpse of the tail end of her as she flies toward the staircase, likely heading to her favorite spot in Gale’s office on a blanket right in front of the fireplace. The departure of what acted as the buffer for the awkward tension between the two of them made it impossible to ignore the proverbial owlbear in the room. 

Gale’s voice is the one that breaks the silence. “I apologize again— for earlier. I should have knocked.” 

She waves him off, keeping her gaze focused on her plate. “Things happen.” 

He clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I just fear that I’ve made you uncomfortable more than once today.” 

Now her gaze is locked right on him, confusion coating her features. When he notices, he sighs. 

“When I asked you if you wanted to go for a stroll. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

Oh. 

Gods, why is he so damn considerate? 

“No, no,” she says, her voice softening and her eyes matching it. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable at all.”

It’s his turn to be confused now, his eyebrows knitted together and mouth pressed into a line. “Why did you say no, then?” 

What answer could she give him that wasn’t entirely incriminating? ‘I said no because I’m in love with you and you make me nervous’? Not a chance. 

“I… I’m just feeling a little tired today.” 

He eyes her and suddenly it’s like she’s completely naked under his gaze once again, only she nearly feels even more exposed now than she did when she was actually naked. He can tell there’s more to it, but he doesn’t push. He never pushes.

“Well, do know that I’m always here if you need to talk. If there’s something bothering you, just say the word and I’ll do what I can to help.” 

Only there isn’t anything he can do to help— hells, even this conversation is doing the very opposite of helping. 

“Thank you, Mr. Dek— I mean— Gale.” She smiles sheepishly, earning a disgruntled smirk from Gale at her slip up. 

She remembers a conversation they had not too long after she moved in, where he told her that referring to him as ‘Mr. Dekarios’ was unnecessary, and preferred that she just called him Gale. For her comfort, but also his own. He didn’t delve into why, but she just assumed that that was a Tara exclusive thing and never questioned it further.

“My pleasure,” He breathes, pushing his chair back and standing with his plate in hand. “I apologize, but I may turn in early tonight. Don’t worry about your dish when you’re finished, I’ll take care of it in the morning.”

She watches him as he scrapes his plate into the waste bin and then places it in the sink basin, rubbing his hands together and then turning to head for the stairs. He breezes past her and she catches a whiff of that familiar scent she’d caught from the robes hanging in the bathroom— sandalwood, bergamot, and a hint of old parchment. Something she would try not to think about if she weren’t reminded of it everyday that she spent surrounded by him, still feeling as though he were in the room with her even when he was away.

Just before his foot lands on the first stair, she turns and calls to him. He pauses, turning his entire body at the sound of her voice.

“Thank you, again. Goodnight.” 

He beams at her, his smile reaching his deep brown eyes that she could see the twinkle in even from across the room. She swears she’d even be able to see it from miles away.

“Goodnight, Elara.” 

~

Lavender. Gale loved the smell of lavender. 

It lingered throughout the halls and wafted out from the bathroom for hours after her bath, and he found himself stopping just outside the doorway without realizing it, as if some invisible force was drawing him to it. As if that smell were a siren’s call, and he was a fisherman lost at sea being lured into her claws. He smelled it on her when she came downstairs, her hair still damp and falling in her face, her skin still flushed from the warmth of the water. 

Selfishly, he could not get the image of her out of his head— the elegant curves of her body and the way it glistened as the hazy light of dusk paired with candlelight cast an ethereal glow that almost made her seem like nothing more than a conjured illusion. Though, he was sure no wizard would ever be able to conjure something as meticulously crafted as her, something that exquisite couldn’t have even been sculpted by the gods. 

It felt wrong and he felt the weight of guilt on his shoulders for violating her privacy tenfold, and yet, his brain could not seem to let him forget for even a fraction of a second. He was incredibly thankful he was able to make it downstairs and hide his arousal under the table before she saw him again and was truly put off by him. He cursed himself internally for being unable to contain himself— one can’t always be a gentleman, it seems.  

It was purely a miracle that he managed to contain himself as he walked past her to finally retire to his bedroom after what felt like the most mentally exhausting day. It was a miracle every day that he managed to contain himself around her, really. Especially on days that she wore dresses— he adored dresses on her. He pictured taking her for a proper evening out in Waterdeep. Greeting her at the door with flowers, walking hand in hand and buying her dinner, showing her all of his favorite parts of the place he loved most in the world, then kissing her goodnight on the stoop and smiling like a giddy schoolboy the entire rest of the night after they departed. 

He’d been enraptured by her from the first moment he laid eyes on her, the first time he ran into her and Alastor at Sorcerous Sundries— so much so, that he completely forgot what he’d even gone there for and entirely abandoned whatever it was and returned home as quickly as possible, his heart racing as if it were trying to escape his chest and run right into her grasp. Sometimes he thinks maybe it has. 

And then when Alastor asked him to let her stay with him, all hope of properly courting her the way she deserved had somehow been entirely dashed in an instant. While you’d think having the object of your desires right within your own home at all times would make things easier— it did not. It only further complicated an already somewhat complicated situation. 

He valued his friendship with Alastor greatly, and feared that he would not take kindly to him beginning a romantic relationship with his only niece who had basically been raised as his daughter. She was worth trying for, he’d decided, and had been planning on coming around more and getting to know her the right way— and the rest is history.

Now, he’s tormented by her being so close and yet not close enough to touch. To occupy the same home as her, but never the same space was downright agonizing. 

She had become the bane of his very existence, only because every day she made it even harder to resist her. 

For example, the way she interacted with Tara— whom, mind you, generally disliked most other humans aside from himself and his mother— the way Tara greeted her with such ardor, not too different from the way she would greet him. The way she not only allowed her to pet her head, but even purred as she did so. Tara is many things, but easily swayed by people is not one of them. And yet, she welcomes her into their home as if she’d always been there. As if she’d been simply waiting for her to come home all this time. 

It had begun to feel that way for Gale as well— his heart ached at the thought of Alastor coming home and her leaving again. While he missed his friend, he could not deny that he’d miss her presence in this house much more. 

He felt himself going mad. Absolutely and truly round the bend crazy over her. 

He wasn’t proud of what he’d done the second he made it into his bedchamber for the night. 

To make matters worse, it wasn’t even the first time he’d done such a thing. 

The pained straining of his erection against his clothing was making his entire body ache along with it, as if it were punishing him for neglecting it for as long as he had. The second he released it from the confines of his pants and underclothes, a bead of precum leaked and he groaned. 

Gods, this is madness. 

Perhaps maybe if he did this, he could get it out of his system and forget about it all in the morning. Yes, he thought, that makes perfectly logical and reasonable sense. 

He clumsily strips his day clothes off apart from his underwear, uncharacteristically discarding it into a heap beside his bed before jumping into the expanse of the large mattress in the center of the room and making himself comfortable. 

He looks down at his own pathetically swollen and throbbing cock, and he almost wishes he could call her into his room and show her the effect she has on him. He pictures her long dark curls fanned out across the pillows at the head of the bed, the way her complexion would be complimented so beautifully by the violet silk sheets beneath her, her legs spread for him. The way he’d devour her and drink her in as if she were the richest wine or the sweetest peach in all of Faerun. The way his name would sound cried from her lips in pure ecstasy. 

The thought alone was enough to bring him closer to the edge— hells, he was sure he’d been on the brink of orgasm for longer than he’d like to admit. He was almost certain the second he began to pump himself into his fist that he’d be done for. 

He started slowly, hoping to savor it for at least a few minutes and give himself more time to indulge in his fantasies. His chest heaved and his cheeks flushed with desire, and he had to try to keep himself quiet on the off chance that she could overhear him. Despite his efforts, he grunted softly as his pace quickened, now pumping himself with a steady rhythm that felt right— that if he closed his eyes, he could picture her on top of him, instead. 

That didn’t last long, as within a minute he was spilling onto his own stomach and coming completely undone, chanting her name in breathy whispers over and over as if it were a prayer without even realizing he was saying anything at all in his lust addled haze.

He grips himself as he rides out the aftershocks until the sensation was entirely too much and he had to let go, his entire body going limp and exhaustion finally presenting itself to him and each one of the muscles he’d just expended in that process. He looks down wearily at the mess he’d made of himself, and throws his head back into the pillows. 

He wonders if her pillows smell like lavender. He imagines that they do. 

God I am a shameless wizard kisser I need him so bad I need him in a way that needs to be studied in a lab

this is part one of a series - ✧ (chapter 2)

#god I can’t wait to write some sweet romantic smut for this one #hopefully we can get to that soon ;) #lmk how we feel about this one besties <3 #gale #gale dekarios #gale dekarios fanfic #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios fic #gale dekarios fanfiction #gale x f!tav #gale x f!oc #gale x tav #gale x oc #bg3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #my fics #wti #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate 3

[awkwardauthorwrites]

Confessions

Word Count: 2.8k

Themes: fluff, pining

Summary: Vaylin drops a little truth on Gale 

Disclaimer: @shadowwheartt and I got far too invested in our playthrough/characters and we both think we’re funny so here’s the product of that. More to come?

Vaylin is a drow oath-broken paladin. We have headcannoned that Amren a half-drow rogue, is her younger half-sister. Both women are bhaalspawn in our little world with thier shared parent being Bhaal himself

Gale narrowed his eyes as he watched Amren laugh at something Astarion had said. The vampire spawn was sitting far too close to her for Gale’s comfort, his arm slung around the back of her seat as he leant in to whisper something in her ear. Amren’s laugh rings out across the camp and her hand slaps down on Astarion’s knee as she unconsciously leans against his side while she tries to catch her breath. He takes a deep swig from his goblet of wine, a frown marring his brow, before he pushes himself off the fallen log he’d been sitting on and skulking away in the opposite direction. His path takes him across the camp and straight past Shadowheart’s tent, where the cleric and her ever-present companion, Vaylin, both sit outside sharing a bottle of wine. 

“Hey, Sparklefingers, why the long face? Did someone dogear a page in one of your precious books again?” Vaylin asks, her tone light yet incredibly snarky as he tries to walk past them.

“You know, I’ve never quite understood how you and Amren can share so many features and characteristics as sisters, and yet your words always cut like the sting from a death viper while she comes across as docile as a newborn tressym,” Gale bristles at her words and gives Vaylin a levelled glare. Vaylin snorts as she takes a sip from the bottle, her laugh turning into a cough as the liquid goes down the wrong way. 

“Docile?” Shadowheart lets out a soft laugh and grabs the bottle of wine from Vaylin so she can take a sip herself. “There are dozens of words I would use to describe Amren, but docile is definitely not amongst them.” Gale’s shoulders slump slightly as Shadowheart gives him a sympathetic smile and wills himself not to look at the smirk that’s no doubt lingering on Vaylin’s features. “What’s the matter, Gale? Unlike some people,” she shoots a look at her girlfriend who remained unaffected, “I understand the value of a pair of friendly ears when one is struggling.”

“It’s just,” he lets out a sigh and waves his hand in the direction he came from, where Amren and Astarion are no doubt still sitting together closer than friends should. “It’s nothing. As much as I would like for there to be.” He hears Amren laugh again, the sound softer this time, and tries not to linger too much on how he’s probably missed his chance with the female rogue. Of course she was curled up beside the fire with Astarion, the vampire spawn was everything he wasn’t - charismatic, attractive and refined. There was no wonder Amren fell for his charms. Gale was far too deep into his self-deprecating thoughts to notice Vaylin let out a yawn, clearly bored by the conversation and pouting wizard already. Shadowheart elbowed the oath-broken paladin in the side and sent her a reprimanding glare before looking back at Gale with a concerned expression.

“Nothing wouldn’t include a certain rogue, would it?” Shadowheart asked.

“Two of them, actually,” Gale admits. Shadowheart peers around his frame to where both Astarion and Amren are sitting together, whispering about something they’re too far away to hear. Despite her better judgement Vaylin takes a peek as well, her nose wrinkling as she realises just why the wizard is looking so downtrodden. 

“I’m not sure who has worst taste, Astarion for being into Amren, or…ugh, nevermind,” Vaylin reaches for the wine bottle again and takes a long drink, as if she were trying to wash the unsaid words from her mouth. 

“I have neither the time nor patience for your riddles or your half-veiled insults tonight, bhaalspawn,” Gale crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Speak plainly or don’t speak at all.” Vaylin raises a solitary eyebrow and takes a slow sip from the bottle of wine, her gaze unwavering as she stares him down. She would sooner rip her own tongue out than admit it aloud, but there were stirrings of respect at his newfound backbone rising within her. At least she thought that’s what it was, it was buried so deep within her it could have very easily been indigestion from the vinegary wine they were drinking. Gale seemed to realise after a moments silence that she had taken his words literally and had decided not to speak at all and he couldn't help but roll his eyes at her antics. 

“Will you please just put him out of his misery?” Shadowheart turns to look at Vaylin, an amused smile playing on her lips.

“What do you propose I do?” The drow scoffed, “Light him on fire?”

“You know perfectly well that is not what I meant,” Shadowheart nudged Vaylin and took the bottle of wine back from her. “You’re not getting this back until you tell him.”

“Tell me what?” Gale asked, frowning in confusion as he watched Vaylin give Shadowheart a withering glare. Both women ignored him as they stared each other down, waiting for the other to break first.

“You’re a sadist,” Vaylin groaned in defeat, tipping her head back dramatically.

“You weren’t complaining last night,” the cleric quipped. Gale felt his face go warm as Vaylin looked back at Shadowheart, the heat obvious in her gaze.

“Can someone please tell me what I’m missing?” Gale repeats, hoping to draw the attention back to him so he didn’t have to witness the pair eye-fuck each other in front of him. 

“Every single target whenever you cast…well, any spell really,” Vaylin turns to him with a saccharine smile. 

“Tell him or there will be more than one person left unsatisfied tonight,” Shadowheart nudged Vaylin again, a little harder this time. The oath-broken paladin looked at her girlfriend with narrowed eyes as the meaning of her words sunk in.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Are you willing to test that theory?” Shadowheart asked innocently, her fingers toying with the pendant on the necklace Vaylin had gifted her. The charm was in the shape of an orchid and Vaylin had painted it blue herself so that it looked as similar to a night orchid as possible. It sat on the end of a long chain and rested in the valley of her cleavage, and although the drow needed no prompting to look there anyway her eyes were immediately drawn in by the movement. She sighed deeply and braced herself as if the words she was about to say physically pained her. 

“She’s in love with you, you blithering idiot,” Vaylin spits out. Gale feels all the breath leave his lungs and his face burns as the words settle in his head. 

“Very tactful. Well done,” Shadowheart remarks dryly, allowing Vaylin to snatch the wine from her again. 

“She’s…she’s what?” Gale repeated. His knees felt weak and he slowly sank down to sit on the ground. Vaylin was always throwing back-handed remarks out at his expense, surely this had to be one of them? He glanced at Shadowheart, who leant forward in concern as he sat with them, her hand reaching out as if to touch his own before she pulled back again. Shadowheart wouldn’t be that cruel to him though. She made the odd quip in his direction as well, but that was all friendly banter, and something he returned all too often in kind. He felt as if his mind was racing at a million miles per minute as he tried to figure out if what Vaylin had said about her sister was all in jest or not. 

“Oh, sure, feel free to join us,” Vaylin rolls her eyes as he sits with them. “The more the merrier.”

“Behave yourself,” Shadowheart glares at her. “Do you have the capacity to be compassionate for at least two seconds?” Vaylin scowled at her girlfriend and instead of replying took another sip from her wine. “Gale, are you alright?” she turned her attention back to the wizard when it became clear that Vaylin wasn’t going to speak anymore.

“Is it true?” he asks, his voice no louder than a whisper. He didn’t dare to hope that it would be, he needed the confirmation. He needed Shadowheart to tell him that Vaylin hadn’t been lying and that it was true that Amren cared for him as deeply as he cared for her. 

“She could have said it better,” Shadowheart glances at her girlfriend, who gives her a sweet smile in return, “but yes, it’s true.”

“She loves me?”

“Yes.”

“But…but Astarion -” 

“I’m going to say this once,” Vaylin looks at him, her tone stern, “and if you ever tell another person alive or dead that I said this I will deny it with every ounce of my soul. In terms of a love interest she could do…much worse than you, I suppose.”

“That almost sounded completely sincere,” Shadowheart looked at the drow with a small smirk, “I’m so proud of you.”

“If I didn’t know any better, Vaylin, I’d say you were warming up to me,” Gale teased.

“Fuck off, wizard.” Her body language made it extremely clear she would not be saying anything further to him that evening, whether it was an unwilling compliment or a scathing insult. Gale just smiled to himself and bid Shadowheart goodnight, ignoring Vaylin completely as he walked away from the tent and gave them both some privacy. 

He wandered back in the direction he had originally come from, his steps feeling infinitely lighter than it had before his conversation with the prickly drow and her girlfriend. He suspected the drow liked him more than she let on, and although her softer side was only reserved for their cleric and her sister, he could see she was (albeit begrudgingly) slowly getting used to his presence and the affections that he held for Amren. 

He knew her behaviour came from the horrors of being raised as a bhaalspawn, and although he wouldn’t admit it to her, he found Vaylin’s strength and resilience admirable. Hers and Amren’s. Although they didn’t share a mother, both women had been sired by Bhaal himself and only found out about the other during their teens. It had been a difficult journey for them to renounce their fathers ways and leave his cult, but here they both were, trying to prove that their unfortunate bloodline did not define who they were as people. 

Gale approached Amren and Astarion, who broke apart to look up at him as he neared. Amren’s face lit up with a smile as she took note of him and for a brief moment he stopped and wondered if he’d always been so blind. Gale prided himself on his intelligence, there wasn’t a puzzle he couldn’t solve or a spell he couldn’t cast without a little work first - so how had he not noticed the way Amren looked at him until now? Her lavender eyes - the only indication of her half-drow lineage - all but reflected every single thing he felt for her right back at him. He gave her a warm smile as he sank into a seat beside her and only offered Astarion the briefest of looks as he spoke to the male rogue, unwilling to look away from the woman next to him. 

“Could you give us a moment, Astarion?” Gale asked. Astarion gave him an affronted look, pressing a hand to his chest dramatically as he looked between Gale and Amren, a smirk playing on the corner of his mouth. He knew, of course, what was about to happen. It was glaringly obvious to everyone in the camp how the pair felt for each other - everyone except them of course - and even though he didn’t particularly fancy being a third wheel in the performance, he couldn’t help but put up a little bit of a fight at the request.

“Is everything okay, Gale?” Amren placed a hand on his, her expression laced with worry. Gale felt his heart thump in his chest as her skin brushed his and for a moment he wondered if her touch alone would be enough to help him get through the days that the orb in his chest demanded more magic. 

“Everything is…wonderful,” he admits, breathing out a quiet laugh. “I just need a moment of your time. Alone.” He gives Astarion another pointed look, silently hoping he would take the hint and give them some privacy.

“Star,” Amren nudges him gently as she murmurs his name. “Can you give us a few minutes, please?” Astarion sighs in mock exasperation, but can’t help but smile and nod at her request, the nickname she’d bestowed upon him warming his heart. He ruffles Amren’s hair playfully and easily dodges her hand as she tries to swat him away before making his way across camp to sit with Shadowheart and Vaylin so he can eavesdrop and relay the conversation to them both. Gale doesn’t say anything for a few moments and Amren takes his hand in hers and squeezes gently, calling his attention back to her. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine,” he assures her. He catches her hand in between both of hers, lacing their fingers together. “I didn’t plan on this, I’m not quite sure what to say.”

“I never thought I’d see the day,” Amren teases lightly. “Is the famed Wizard of Waterdeep at a loss for words?”

“No,” Gale shakes his head with a quiet laugh. “But Gale Dekarios is.” He meets Amren’s gaze and brushes some hair away from her face before letting out a quiet sigh. “I just had a talk with your sister.”

“Oh gods,” Amren wrinkles her nose. “Whatever she said to you now I’m so sorry, Gale. I’ll have a word with her in the morning about being nicer to you.” 

“There’s no need. She actually behaved herself this time.” Amren gives him a look, clearly not believing a word he had said and he can’t help but laugh at the expression. “Alright, she was mostly behaved. I’ve definitely had more harrowsome conversations with her than this one.”

“What did you talk about?”

“You.”

“Me?” Amren pulls back in surprise. “What about me?” Gale releases her hands to run his own through his hair to ease the slight anxiety that sits in his chest. 

“If things were different, if we were back home I could have done this better. I would have taken the time to properly romance you and lavish you with gifts and treat you exactly how you deserve to be. I would have taken the time to come up with a rousing speech about all the different ways I care for you instead of deciding to confess this all to you on a whim and feeling like the ground has been ripped out from underneath me…but that’s what you do,” his gaze turns tender as she watches her expression for any sign that Vaylin and Shadowheart had been lying to him. “From the moment I met you I feel like the ground has been ripped out from under my feet and I’m falling and you’re the only one who can steady me. You’re so special to me, Amren. I care about you more than I can express.”

“What…exactly did Vaylin tell you?” Amren asks slowly, her voice hoarse and her cheeks flushed.

“I want to hear the words from you. I don’t want to repeat something that I heard secondhand.”

“Gale…”

“I love you, Amren,” he takes her face in his hands, his forehead pressed lightly against hers. “I am utterly and hopelessly in love with you and I sincerely hope what your sister said was true and you feel the same way about me.”

“Of course I’m in love with you,” Amren feels her heart melt as his eyes slide shut in relief and his body physically relaxes. “How could I not be, Gale?”

“I had thought there was something between you and Astarion,” he admits. He opens his eyes again in time to catch the amused expression on his face. 

“No one compares to you, Gale Dekarios.”

“I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear that. I didn’t particularly fancy making an ass of myself as part of your sister’s whims.” Amren laughs softly at that and leans in a little closer so that their lips are only a fraction of an inch away.

“Careful now, Gale, she is the reason we’re finally having this conversation. I’d say you owe all of this to her,” Amren teases. Gale groans playfully, but there’s an undeniable happiness on his face as he takes in Amren’s smile. He tilts her chin up slowly, his eyes flickering from her, down to her lips and back up again.

“Can I kiss you?”

“You better.”

#gale dekarios fanfiction #gale of waterdeep fanfiction #gale x oc #gale x tav #gale x reader #gale x f!tav #gale x f!reader #gale x f!oc #gale dekarios fluff #baldur's gate 3 #gale bg3 #gale dekarios bg3 #the wizard of waterdeep #astarion ancunin #astarion #awkwardauthormasterlist #awkwardauthorwrites #awkwardauthor #shadowheart #shadowheart x oc

[honey-tongued-devil]

Breakfast in waterdeep

||For the more protein-rich version, click here. If the link doesn't work, search for @honey_tongued_ on Twitter and bypass the system, my comrades.||

I'm slower at drawing than usual so take and eat them all, this is my apple pen offered in sacrifice for you.

I want to draw Gale, I want to draw Astarion, I want to make fanart of Stardew Valley, of Ghosts bc, and so I do nothing to be fair to all my interests.

Reblogs, likes, comments, follows (both here and on the demon's site) are welcome.

#baldur’s gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #bg3 tav #gale x tav #gale dekarios #bg3 #bg3 gale #bg3 art #gale x f!tav #gale bg3 #gale x reader #baldur's gate 3 gale #gale x oc #gale baldurs gate 3 #bg3 gale dekarios #baldurs gate tav #bg3 tav x gale #tav bg3

[ancuninfiles]

Comfort pt. 3

Screenshot by @astarionposting

3.5k words - F/M - Astarion x F! Tav - Gale x F! Tav - 18+

Thank you To @gelican-gelicant Gelican AO3 for beta-reading and tbh teaching me how to be a better writer. I wouldn't be able to do this without you. Please check out their works!

Graphic depictions of violence

Summary: Gale realizes how Nym (Previously Tav) makes him feel, and figures out what to do about it. Astarion wants Nym all to himself, and drama at the grove ensues.

Tags: smut, consensual groping, masturbation (penis), spanking, blood loss, possessive Astarion, obsession, Bloodweave (if you squint), dry humping, sexual fantasies

MASTERLIST (The other chapters and other works)

Read on AO3 (Recommended)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑: 𝐆𝐢𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥

˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•✮˖⁺‧₊˚

Gale lay on his back as he watched the rain patting on the roof of his violet tent. He had been eager to start the day until the teeming rain had paused their journey to find a healer.

It was day two of their adventure, and the companions were turning out to be interesting. The pale elf and the leader, Nym, had coupled fairly quickly, and their noises kept Gale awake for a portion of the night. He knew that elves did not need to sleep as humans did, but he would have expected them to at least have some semblance of respect for their campmates.

Nym's noises were particularly distracting, not only because they were the loudest, but also because of how they caused Gale's mind to race and his blood to pump.

How long had it been since Mystra shared a bed with him? He was sequestered to his tower for at least one year with only his tressym and a hand to keep him company. To say he was pent-up would be an understatement to the intoxicating storm within him.

The way that Nym crawled over to him like a tiger - and her suggestion that he could join the two elves of otherworldly beauty in bed at the same time was causing a rush of blood to flow into his groin.

He wondered how long it would take for the rain to let up, and if he would have time to get some relief before setting off on their adventure.

He closed his eyes and pictured Nym's naked body, and her screams of pleasure while he touched her cunt with his hand; the same hand that was creeping below his pants and slowly reaching for his painfully hard member.

He pictured the pale elf's lips and tongue swirling around his girth, and the feeling of his cock at the back of his throat, his own length growing larger and leaking seed.

Gale grasped his cock and pulled his trousers down with his free hand, just enough to free it from the strangling chastity.

He began stroking his cock vehemently, thrusting up into his hand, and thumbing his precum and spreading its wetness down his shaft.

He pictured Nym's swollen cunt being filled by the pale elf, while he positioned his own girth at the entrance of her pert asshole before sinking himself into her slowly, stroking what he couldn't fit inside yet.

He would grab her ass and spit on her holes, now stuffed, leaving only her mouth empty and wanting.

He would reach around to stick his fingers in her mouth, or he could watch the two seductive elves locking lips and listen to her muffled moans on his tongue as they fucked her.

He wanted to feel Astarion's cock on the underside of his own through the wall that connects Nym's tight asshole to her soaking pussy, and he revelled in the thought of feeling his balls grazing against the gorgeous elf's shaft as he fucked into Nym's perfect hole. 

He was so close - he wanted to cum inside her and see his hot juice leak onto Astarion's cock as he fucked it into her. 

Times like these made him grateful for an elf's lack of fertility. He couldn't imagine raising a child with a mind-flayer parasite in his brain; but his cock was inside his hand, not Nym, and not between Astarion's lips either.

He had been so distracted by his reverie that he failed to notice that the rain had let up completely. 

"Wizard! - Are you coming?" yelled Astarion.

No, I won't be coming.

He pulled up his pants and tucked his cock into his waistband before throwing on his robes in an effort to hide his shameful attempt at release.

Mystra, forgive me.

He stumbled out of his tent to where Nym, Astarion, and Shadowheart were all standing and discussing their mission for the day. 

“Considering that we are near a body of fresh water, I have no doubts that there’s a settlement nearby,” Nym pressed.

“Right - we best get going,” Gale chimed in, body taut with tension and wanting to forget everything that happened within the past five minutes.

__________

The crew journeyed towards the sounds of shouting while in search of a healer, which led them to a skirmish between a group of goblins versus druids and tiefling refugees. 

Nym cast entangle, and then Astarion shot with his crossbow, and snuck up with his daggers to slash the enemy's throats. 

Astarion favoured Nym's side, as they synergized in battle with seamless coordination, as though they were seasoned comrades.

Gale used long-range attacks, staying behind everyone and casting spells from afar. He occasionally glanced at the two elves as they danced their way through the battle together, causing his cheeks to flush as he remembered his shallowly suppressed fantasies.

The battle swiftly concluded with goblin corpses decorating the path toward a grove, which would hopefully lead them to a druidic healer who could take care of their tadpole problem. 

They made their way to the shops where Nym sold their wares. Astarion pulled out a parchment which seemed to have a list of items they wanted to purchase, and then he helped Nym with the transaction before placing everything in his pack. 

“That halfling is stingy. Next time I’m just going to steal my arrows from the little gremlin,” Astarion stated with a mischievous grin.

“Shh - stop it!” Nym poked Astarion’s arm roughly. “What if someone hears you? We’re already the outsiders, and I’ve picked up that the druids here are a distrustful lot.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure to keep quiet the next time I’m discussing my cunning schemes,” Astarion hunched his back and positioned his hands up as if he were drawing non-existent claws before whispering just loud enough for the four to hear.

Nym's face reddened at his words. 

Could she truly be interested in someone who is willing to steal from these poor druids? Gale had already begun disapproving of Astarion’s impulsive and murderous attitude, since the previous day’s interaction with the looters in the nearby ruins.

___________

They were doing reconnaissance when they overheard the group of bandits talking about the nautiloid, and how they wanted to search it for valuables. They clustered together to deliberate on how best to address the situation.

“I say we put the bastards out of their misery, then rob them for all they’re worth,” Astarion keenly suggested.

Nym paused, eyes widening and glaring at Astarion. “Wha- really?”

Gale’s brows canted downwards in a frown. “Surely we don’t need to immediately resort to violence. I could speak to them; maybe they won't be hostile.”

Nym hung her head and ran her fingers through her scalp, gripping her hair with both hands before sighing. “I don’t know - they seem pretty hostile to me already.” She released her hair and tucked it behind her ears. “Shadowheart?”

“We need supplies, and they have supplies. Let’s just get this over with and call it a day,” Shadowheart sighed.

The consensus was to attack the bandits; Gale, knowing that sticking together was their best bet to be un-tadpoled, put his differences aside for the sake of their group.

___________

Astarion was pushing the boundaries of acceptable mischief; it soured Gale's desire to engage in the wanton activities he had fantasized about earlier this morning.

Gale admitted to himself that Astarion was very handsome, but charming in the same way a lion might be before it mauls one to death. 

There is also the concern of Mystra watching over everything I do. Should the orb even slightly destabilize, Mystra will know; and she will know what the cause is while it is happening. 

The last thing Gale wanted was for Mystra to see him making love to another - but she had abandoned him.

He pushed the thought from his mind for the time being, knowing there were bigger problems to worry about.

__________

Astarion and the team navigated through the grove to where two tieflings argued with some druids about their daughter being taken into questioning by someone named Kagha. The argument halted and Nym approached them, sweaty and trembling like a newborn doe.

She wiped the sweat from her brow and planted her hands on her hips, hunching her shoulders and squinting away the sunlight. “We’ve come looking for a healer.” Her voice cracked. “I’m a druid reining from the High Forest and I’d like to speak to your archdruid,” she breathed, her mouth opening in a grimace.

Astarion noted that Nym looked ill. Perhaps the health potions I gave her weren’t enough to salve the blood loss.

“Outsiders have no business here, druid or not. We’ve enough strays already.” 

Nym clenched her fists and teeth, her mouth tightening into a pursed expression, and her long nails digging into her palms. “Okay, well we just saved your asses from a hoard of bloodthirsty goblins, so the least you could do is just let us speak to whoever’s in charge here,” she asserted.

Oh, she is feisty today, Astarion thought.

“She’s right,” perked one of the druids.

“Alright, but we’ll have our eyes on you.”

“Great.” Nym forced a smile. “We’ll be off, then.”

They walked into a clearing where a misty green ritual was taking place. The sun was hot and beating down on all of them, which seemed to rouse Nym more than anyone.

“I just need a minute,” she panted as they approached a cliff on the side of the ritual where two ruined pillars had fallen, leading towards a small beach. She began to fan herself with her hand and sat down to dangle her feet off the ledge, dirt and sand sticking to her exposed thighs.

Nym sat back, resting her weight on one hand, fanning herself with the other and playfully swinging her legs off the cliff in tandem. 

She is not doing okay.

“How about Astarion and I go look for that healer?” Shadowheart suggested.

“Yeahyeahfinewhatever.” Nym closed her eyes and scrunched her features.

What? And leave her with him? Astarion thought.

Astarion’s eyes widened as he glanced toward Gale, who began to kneel beside Nym.

I should be the one to stay with Nym, making sure she’s okay; not the idiot wizard.

He looked back to Shadowheart, who had already begun walking towards the entrance to the archdruid’s quarters, and decided to hold his tongue lest he seem too needy, or jealous. 

Which I’m not, of course. 

Astarion quickly caught up to Shadowheart, glancing back at Nym and Gale before the door to the den closed behind him.

__________

“You don’t look like you’re feeling too well,” Gale pointed out.

“Hmph - yeah, I’m just sick, I think, or something. Sorry.” She stood up and balanced on the ruined pillars, making her way down to the beach. 

Gale clumsily followed behind her. “Oh dear, hopefully not a case of ceramorphosis; although I believe that we should have turned already if that were the case. Still, it’s very puzzling. I’ve done a lot of research on this topic, and I mean a lot. One might call me an expert on it. I -” he paused.

Nym was not paying attention at all, instead, she was hunched over, squatting, sorting through rocks on the beach and stacking them vertically. 

“Oh! What’s this?” Nym squealed excitedly, holding up a gold amulet that had the words “Te Absolvo” engraved on the back. “No fucking way!”

She put the amulet on herself hurriedly before chanting the same words that were inscribed on the amulet. A glowing blue aura surrounded her, and the sound of wind chimes momentarily filled the air surrounding her. 

She exhaled deeply with her eyes closed and a smile planted on her face. Nym sat back on her bottom and crossed her legs, looking at the amulet inquisitively.

A magical item, good to note. Gale thought.

This was the first time that Gale had Nym alone, and the beach they were at was surprisingly secluded, especially around the bend.

He wondered, She wanted me.

The memories of his fantasy flooded his mind. Perhaps if I just-

His hands came to reach for Nym's shoulders. “You’re slouching - it’s not good for your back.”

Nym straightened and pressed up into his touch, rolling her head to the side and closing her eyes with a smile.

That’s a good sign.

Gale came down on his knees and began to massage her shoulders, applying pressure with his thumbs and squeezing her trapezoids with his palm.

Nym lolled her head forward and groaned. “Ahh - so nice.”

Gale experimentally trailed his palms lower towards her uncovered midriff, and then snaked his fingers up to fuss under the bottom of her shirt, causing a gasp to escape her lips

He leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “Is this okay?”

“Mhm,” she assured him quietly.

He lifted her tight, thin, leather shirt to rest above her breasts, exposing them to the soothing air that was being carried ashore by the water. He sat back on his heels and groped Nym's fleshy mounds while his lips grazed her ear.

“Still okay?” He whispered, his cock now straining against his pants as it had this morning. 

She let out a needy sigh, “Huh - yeah.” Her head lolled back as she affirmed again.

He pinched her nipples in sync, causing Nym to yelp quietly. He pushed her hair to the side with his right hand and began placing wet kisses on her neck while toying with her tender peaks.

Nym groaned and Gale crept his right hand down, 

Down, 

Down . . . 

until he reached Nym's waistband, where he snuck the tips of his fingers beneath to insinuate his request; all the while, continuing his work on her left breast.

Yet, his head jerked backward as his hair was gripped, and he sensed the cold, sharp sting of metal against his throat. His eyes widened as he froze.

“Let - her - go.” A deep and fearsome voice spoke, the low tenor sending vibrations through his head. “Now,” he growled, pressing the blade to Gale’s throat and creating a shallow but stinging crimson line to form beside his Adam's apple.

Gale released Nym, and she spun around on her knees to face the scene. 

“Astarion! What are you doing?” Nym yelled, breasts still exposed.

Astarion cocked his head up to Nym. His eyes were bulging and his teeth were bared. 

In one quick movement, Gale reached up to grasp Astarion’s wrist.

“Fulgor!” Gale chanted, sending an electrical shockwave through Astarion.

Astarion groaned loudly through gritted teeth, his body convulsing uncontrollably causing him to stumble back on his ass.

Gale stood and turned to Astarion while feeling his own neck and then examining the blood that stained his fingers. He held his wound, applying pressure, his face screwing up.

“Use your words, dammit! You almost bloody killed me!” Gale protested.

Astarion got back on his feet and stood tall. “That was the point, you insufferable swine! Agh!” he groaned, holding the wrist that Gale had cast Shocking Grasp on.

Nym pulled her shirt down and stood up, beside the dueling pair. Her knuckles whitened as her nails dug into her palms. Her shoulders were tense and her torso leaned forward. 

“What the fuck is happening right now?” she panted, her shoulders rising and falling with each breath, eyes welling up with tears as she held a deep frown and her eyes darted from one man to the other.

“Nothing - not anymore, since you’ve been freed from this gorilla’s grasp,” Astarion responded.

“She wanted me to touch her!” said Gale.

Astarion paused.

He then grunted and swung the pommel of his blade to smash into Gale’s orbital bone, causing him to lose his balance and hold his face with his bloodied hand.

“Stop it!” Nym cried. “Please!” She grabbed her head and toppled to her bottom. Her knees were lifted and her hands covered her eyes to palm her tears away. She sniffled and sobbed on the sandy beach as the soft waves kissed the shore.

Both men halted as they witnessed Nym's sorrowful display of emotion.

“I don’t know what’s going on -” She choked out a sob. “My friends are fighting and it’s scaring me,” she whined and sniffed up her cries.

Shadowheart, who had been snacking on an apple and watching everything unfold from the edge of the cliff, stepped down to the trio with haste and between Nym and the two men.

“Can’t you men see that your juvenile quarrel is upsetting Nym? You've all better find a way to discuss your feelings like adults later, and a way to can it for now; lest you want our leader to be obsolete.” Her brows knit in annoyance. “Now, I suggest you leave us for a few moments; considering you two were the ones to cause this problem in the first place.”

Gale held his eye behind Astarion who was still seething as they both faced Shadowheart.

Astarion grunted. “Agh - I am not leaving her again!”

Nym's head perked up at his words, face red and wet from tears. She gazed at Astarion, lips parted and eyes puffy from crying. 

Shadowheart looked back at Nym to read her face for any signs of disapproval before looking back to Astarion and Gale. “Fine - Gale, you come with me. I have to heal you, anyway.”

“Yeah, no thanks to that incredulous elf,” Gale fumed, walking past Astarion, Shadowheart and Nym towards the clifftop.

Turning, Shadowheart addressed Nym with a quick “Hey, we'll talk later,” before swiftly departing from the beach to follow Gale.

__________

Astarion let out a breathy sigh before walking over to Nym and slumping to sit beside her on the ruined pillar. She held her knees and fell onto Astarion’s lap awkwardly. 

Astarion reached out to tenderly caress her head, running his hand gently over her hair and sweeping it behind her ear. She closed her eyes at his touch and sighed into his lap.

Cute.

He then scooped her under her arms to come and sit on his lap, her legs dangling off of his left side and her face and arms pressing into his chest. He placed a firm smooch on her head and squeezed her tightly. Nym cozied into his chest and wrapped her arms around him.

Astarion wanted to hold her and never let her go, which made him feel pathetic. He had only known Nym for a single day and was already becoming attached, as if she were a piece of him that would cause him immense pain upon its departure. Something about her had begun to grow roots into his soul.

“Did you want him to touch you?” He asked - because, of course, she would say no. 

Please say no. That would make things so much easier. That way I can just kill him and be over with it.

At the same time, Astarion worried for her soul if she had truly been groped by the gorilla without consent. All the more reason to ring his neck. So a part of him hoped that she did want it, and that nobody would ever touch her like the way all of the monsters over the years had touched him.

“Yeah,” she replied.

An obscure and uncanny pain flowed through his veins at her words, causing his breath to stop and his chest to tighten. He wasn't sure if he wanted to hear the answer to his next question.

“Did you like it?”

Silence, But then,

“Mhm,” Nym sighed while rolling her hips on Astarion's lap and squeezing him tightly.

Shit, he thought, does she think I'm happy for her? 

He wanted to take her to his tent, bend her over his knee and spank her bare bum until it was red and speckled with purple bruises - and until she apologized. I'm so sorry Astarion! I'm yours and only yours! I don't want Gale!

Only then would he seize his abuse, and then reward her with his fingers. . . and then, maybe, his cock - if she was a very good girl.

Blood began to rush to his groin just thinking about it.

Or, he could . . . Bite her throat and drink from her until she was within an inch of her life, and then offer to heal her - only after she apologizes. 

He pictured it so clearly, her body weakening under him until she couldn’t move and could barely open her eyes. Her lips beautifully pale, and her hands pinned above her head. 

“Please heal me, Astarion. I am so sorry! I won't think about Gale ever again!” she would cry; and he would make her promise.

Yeah. 

He would lean Into her ear and say “Promise me, little love.” And then she would whine and say “I promise to be only yours, Astarion!” in her weak and melodic little voice.

His mouth watered at the thought of filling his belly with her blood again and again. 

He pushed her hair to the side and began to graze his fangs against her neck. He licked, searching for her pulse. Nym, in response, shivered and relaxed her muscles in his grasp.

He was so close, he could feel the little patches of dry skin where he bit her last. 

But instead, he kissed her flesh tenderly and held her tighter to his chest.

You will be mine.

˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•✮˖⁺‧₊˚

𝔖𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔥𝔢'𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔪𝔶 𝔟𝔬𝔡𝔶,

𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱'𝔰 𝔴𝔥𝔶 𝔥𝔢'𝔰 𝔣𝔲𝔠𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔦𝔱 𝔲𝔭

𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔪𝔢 "𝔅𝔞𝔟𝔶, 𝔦𝔣 𝔦𝔱 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡,

𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔦𝔱 𝔠𝔞𝔫'𝔱 𝔟𝔢 𝔟𝔞𝔡"

𝔚𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔟𝔢 𝔦𝔪𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔩 𝔦𝔫 𝔞 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯'𝔰 𝔩𝔞𝔭˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•✮˖⁺‧₊˚

Read Chapter 4 ->

#astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #astarion smut #astarion ancunin #astarion x original female character #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion fluff #astarion x female tav #gale x f!tav #gale x female reader #gale x female tav #gale dekarios #gale fanfic #gale smut #bloodweave #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader #astarion x f!oc

[fantasyfictionfables]

He is so intense. *analyses his facial expression, while melting in appreciation*

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #romance #dnd #faerun #fandom #rpg #video game #galemance #rizzard of waterdeep #gale x f!tav #gale x female #gale x tav #gale x oc #athena dekarios

[whispering-depths]

Feast and Folly || Chapter 1

Pairing: Gale x Tav/Reader Rating: M (to be safe–it's fairly tame, just a little bit of spice in a future chapter!) Tags/warnings: Gale's Netherese orb, chronic pain, hurt/comfort

Summary: You are a wild magic sorcerer, gifted with an innate connection to the Weave, yet it has caused you nothing but immense strife all your life. Gale is a wizard, plagued by a Netherese orb that must feed on shreds of the Weave, lest the worst come to pass. Is there anything you can do to help ease his pain?

Slow burn, Act I pre-relationship, Gale x f!Tav/Reader. This is intended to be 3 chapters.

Read on Ao3

NOTE: This is written in 2nd person, but reader/Tav is my tiefling wild magic sorcerer, Tiresia. Her story is integral to the fic, so this is not really a true blank slate “reader insert,” but I don’t describe her physical appearance much beyond race-specific details (having a tail and horns and claws), story-relevant details (burn scarring, blindness in one eye), and being shorter than Karlach (as most everyone is). But there are lots of bits of backstory peppered throughout. (my drawing of the Tav in question, if you are interested!)

Chapter 1: Arcane Hunger

“So, remind me again, who are these ‘paladins' and, why are they riding your tail?” you ask, a little bit out of breath.

Your newest—and tallest—companion, Karlach, leads your small scouting party up the dusty, bush-lined path where you first met her just days ago. You try to keep up while you chat, but she has a good foot and a half on you so what amounts to a brisk walk for her is nearing a jog for you, your tail bouncing rhythmically behind you with each step. The vampire and the wizard have both fallen several strides behind now, long since having given up on keeping the larger tiefling’s pace.

You slow to a stop as the rundown toll house comes into view up on the hill, allowing a moment for your other companions to catch up.

“Zariel’s bootlickers,” she spats. “Trying to drag me back to the hells. They’re not particularly bright, but those fuckers are relentless, I’ll give them that. But between us, they won’t know what hit ‘em.”

You hum in acknowledgement, deferring to Karlach for the plan of attack. “What d’you think’s the best way for us to approach this, then?”

Karlach pauses for a moment, hellfire in her eyes, before launching into an enthusiastic pitch for how to banish the ‘paladins’ back to Avernus. You watch her animated hand-talking with bemused reverence, until her monologue is interrupted by a sharp intake of breath from somewhere behind you. Then—

An agonized groan,

followed by a heavy thump—

Something— someone— hits the ground, hard.

Time seems to slow as you spin around on your boot heel, your ears suddenly perked and alert. When you turn, you are half expecting to find yourself in the middle of an ambush—either the paladins had got the jump on you, or a roving band of goblins and Absolute cultists did.

But as the scene before you comes into focus, your eye is drawn to Gale’s cloaked form, doubled over in the dirt—his sweat-covered brow twisted up in pain, one hand clutching at the fabric of his collar, the tightness of his grip blanching the usually tanned skin of his knuckles.

Oh gods. What happened? Has he been shot?

Your mind reels, heart plummeting into your stomach at the thought. 

Not him.

Something had drawn you to Gale nearly from the moment you pulled him from the portal he’d found himself stuck in. The wizard had landed right on top of you, knocking you into the dirt, his mortified blush and spluttering apology instantly endearing him to you. You found him handsome and charming, if a bit pompous, but still, Archmage Gale of Waterdeep felt deeply out of your league as an avoidant sorcerer with barely any mastery over her wild magic. There’s no way that he would be interested in you once he learned who you are, you reasoned. So you resigned yourself to admiring from afar.

But as the days went on, he started to seek you out in the evenings as a fellow magic user, expressing a keen interest in your innate abilities and connection to the Weave. You shared a few lighthearted stories of magical mishaps—like the time that a sneeze caused your skin to turn bright blue for a week, or when you accidentally flooded a small section of the Lower City because your mother refused to take you swimming—of course leaving out the more traumatic experiences. He offered up his own stories of mishaps and mischief in kind.

He was so genuine in his curiosity that you thought maybe you had misjudged him at first. But still, you felt guilty for the selective truths and the lies of omission. Even after he had partially revealed his own magical affliction, you still hadn’t quite mustered up the courage to share your own rather strained relationship with magic openly, nor the fact that you hadn’t intentionally cast a spell in nigh on a decade. This illithid nightmare you’d been thrust into left you with little choice but to rely on your magic again, so you made the decision to grin and bear it on your own.

Then, just a few evenings ago, one of these late night conversations bled into a more intimate moment, a warm embrace entangled in the very threads of the Weave as he told you of Mystra, his goddess and mother of all magic. A strange jealousy twinged in your gut at the reverent way he spoke of her, and your thoughts had wandered to your own longing, the shared connection laying bare your every repressed desire. You imagined what it would be like if you just pressed your lips to his, the soft scratch of his beard against your cheek, your tongue tracing the rampart of his teeth. His fingers trailing the seams of your robe, hooking under your belt, eagerly pulling you in closer—

“Soldier, get down !” Karlach hisses, snapping you back to the reality before you, shaking off your moment of reverie. You can’t afford any distraction if his life is in danger.

In your peripheral, you catch a glimpse of Karlach as she yanks the greataxe from her back and braces herself, eyes scanning wildly for assailants hidden in the brush. To your left, you hear Astarion let out a low growl, his lithe form swallowed up by your blindspot.

Without another thought, you rush to the wizard’s side and drop to your knees beside him. You take him firmly but gently by the shoulders and guide him into a seated position, allowing you to examine him closer.

Your eyes flit over his chest, scanning for any wounds, but you see no errant arrows, no bloom of blood staining his purple robe, nothing that would suggest grave physical injury. Your chest swells in relief, but it’s ever so brief. Something is still very wrong.

Gale lifts his head gingerly, and his wet, brown eyes flicker to yours. There’s an intensity to his gaze, an immense anguish that makes your breath hitch, and your world narrows until it is just you and the man sitting before you. You hold his gaze, searching for an answer. As your thoughts race, you try to suppress your rising panic so you can pinpoint the source of his pain.

“Please—,” his strangled voice dies in his throat, barely a hiss escaping through gritted teeth. He reaches up again and shakily pulls on his collar so that it dips just below the bruised purple outline etched into his chest. 

Oh.

The hunger.

It isn’t the first time this arcane hunger has overtaken him since you began traveling together. You may not yet be privy to all the details of the wizard’s strange, magical affliction, but he’s told you enough for you to know more or less what is happening: his condition is worsening, yet again. The demon inside, as he had described it, had awoken to ravage him—clawing, tearing, teething from within.

He needs another magical artifact, immediately.

You start rifling through your pack, desperate to find anything you can part with—an enchanted amulet, a spare pair of boots, anything. Another pained whimper escapes Gale’s throat, and a knife twists in your own chest in sympathetic response.

You are no stranger to pain. The burn scars that pucker the left side of your face, neck, arms, and chest have caused you chronic, lingering pain for as long as you remember, ever since the day your magic ignited a fireball and set your childhood home ablaze. Though the burns have long since healed, the phantom prickles and incessant itching spells persist, and the restrictive tightness of the scar tissue itself causes you discomfort with even the simplest of movements. 

Each time you laugh at a companion’s joke, each time you lift your arms to take off your tunic at the end of the day… hells, each time you look into a mirror, you are reminded of your stinging guilt, your hollow loss, the worst day of your life.

But among your companions, you keep that pain close to your chest. It is still difficult for you to allow yourself to be vulnerable in front of them when you already feel like a liability because of your unpredictable magic. Some days are worse than others, but even on the bad days you find yourself pushing too far in order to prove yourself useful. You wonder idly if Gale has been doing the same this whole time, too.

“Come on, come on, come on, there’s got to be something in here,” you chastise yourself for hoarding so many useless baubles as your fingers graze past one too many pieces of pilfered silverware. You start tossing them on the ground next to you and they land with a metallic clatter. You make a mental note to clean out your pack later at camp—this level of clutter is clearly becoming a problem.

After another moment of digging, you produce the small golden locket that the little tiefling girl’s mother had given you after saving her from that wretched snake. You picture the looks of pure love and relief on her mother and father’s faces after being reunited with their daughter. You try to picture your own parents’ faces in your mind’s eye too, though with the passage of time, your visual memories of them have become less precise. The illuminating spell the locket is imbued with is not particularly useful to you, but still, it had been an incomprehensibly kind gesture to gift you with such an heirloom—especially when you know those tieflings had so little to their names. Their kindness will not be in vain.

You hold the locket out to Gale. He reaches for it, but recoils as another shudder wracks his body.

“Do you—” you pause, unsure of what it is you even want to ask. “Do you want me to do it?”

He nods.

The last time that Gale had to treat his worsening condition, you’d curiously observed how he held the artifact to his chest, touching it to bare skin so that the shred of Weave within could be absorbed into his body. It seemed simple enough.

You clutch the locket tight inside your palm and lean in to press it lightly to the bruised skin above Gale’s heart. Eyes closed, his hand settles on top of yours, thumb slowly rubbing back and forth across the back of your hand.

After a moment, a cool glow emanates from beneath your clawed fingertips, the outline of the strange orb on his chest now pulsing with magic. Bolts of indigo Weave crackle in the air around you and caress your entangled hands, the hairs on your arm standing on end, magic flowing from the locket and into Gale’s chest—through you.

The sensation is an altogether odd one, though certainly not unpleasant or unwelcome; it feels markedly different from the way that your wild magic usually does. You’ve tried so hard to keep the tides of chaos within you from spilling over for as long as you can remember, but it has always felt more like of a cycle of ever-building pressure, a mounting tension, rather than a pleasant ebb and flow of energy—rather like a bowstring being stretched ever more taut, yet never released, until finally it just snaps.

But this, this is something wholly different. This magic feels electric —a soft, buzzing energy, starting as a faint tingle in the tips of your fingers but radiating outward, to the crown of your head and the tip of your tail. Your nerves sing, a cold adrenaline flooding through you, and the frenetic vibrations that echo through your body push a nearly inaudible sound from your lips. You shiver. Has magic ever felt this good before?

Almost as quickly as it started, the tendrils of shimmering magic melt into the air.

The wizard groans, and you realize for the first time that your eyes had fluttered closed at some point, your lips still slightly parted. You open your eyes to find Gale gazing back at you from beneath hooded lids, closer than you remember him being—an unreadable emotion flickering across them for a fraction of a second. Your palm lingers on his chest as you relish in the soft electricity humming in your veins, his hand still resting atop yours.

Karlach’s soft cough from behind you snaps you out of it.

Suddenly hyper-aware of the intimacy of the moment you have just shared and your companions’ stares boring a hole into your back, you are the first to move away. Your cheeks grow hot, flushing a deep red. 

Your hands drop to your lap, opening your fist to observe the empty space where the little golden locket had been moments ago. You absent-mindedly fiddle with your mother’s tarnished ring on your middle finger, suddenly self-conscious and unsure of what else to do with your hands.

“You felt that too, didn’t you?” he whispers. Your eyes rise to meet his again. “It is a strange experience each time anew—like a lost soul is spelunking through the darkness that is me, only to be sacrificed on the dread altar of the heart.” You smile wide at the return of his usual grandiloquence—a sure sign that he’s feeling more himself again.

But the relief is gone in a moment. When Gale moves to stand, he winces, another deep pang ripping through his chest. You catch his elbow to steady him. His expression grows serious again, eyes darkening.

“Good gods, it’s hardly had any effect. Mystra have mercy on us all. Listen, I need to talk to you, all of you,” he finally looks past you to acknowledge Astarion and Karlach’s presence for the first time. Their expressions flicker between bewilderment and concern at what they had just witnessed.

“Tonight. I will make us supper, and we will speak then. You deserve to know the truth of who I was. Who I really am.”

You can’t imagine that anything he could say would change the way you feel about him. Not when you have your own secrets you’ve been keeping.

“Is there anything more I can do for you, Gale?” you implore him, voice barely above a whisper.

Gale shakes his head. “Oh, you do plenty for me already. More than you realize,” he pauses. “But this… this cannot be remedied. Please, I need some time to think. We will speak more tonight.”

You nod your head solemnly. “Do you want me to walk you back to camp? I’m sure it wouldn’t take much to convince Lae’zel to take your place if you need a rest.”

“Oh, I assure you, that will not be necessary, but I am grateful for your endless thoughtfulness. Let us carry on, I do believe we were about to parley with some paladins.”

#gale x tav #gale x reader #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x f!tav #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #my fanfic #my writing #my ocs #oc: tiresia allseer #wild magic sorcerer #gale fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #gale bg3

[jb-nonsense]

"If things were different, if we were home, I'd have taken the time to do things properly. To say it better. But time is short."

#Baldur's Gate 3 #BG3 #Gale Dekarios #Gale of Waterdeep #Gale Dekarios romance #BG3 Gale #BG3 Gale Romance #BG3 OC #Gale x Tav #Gale x f!Tav #Media: Gifs #Fandom: BG3 #JB's Gifs #Character: Gwenifar Van Hol

[dr-demi-bee]

We're at War: the Wizard and the Commander

The first chapter of the Royal Court AU fic I've been braindumping for the last couple days is finally live! :)

Aiming to keep this to only five chapters. Frenemies -> Lovers ~ Royal Court AU ~ Knight x Noble Pairing: Gale x f!Tav - NSFW Word Count: 5k (chap 1) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------Summary:

The kingdom of Baldur’s Gate, lead by the young King Wyll Ravenguard, is currently at war with a Banite incursion. His two primary advisors, the Court Wizard and Commander of the Royal Armies are constantly at one another's throats. Miri has served the royal family - and the country of Baldur’s Gate - for four generations. She’s been commander of the royal army for the better part of fifteen years. And Gale has been a thorn in her side for the last ten. She liked him better when he was just an annoying apprentice. At least then he wasn’t constantly contradicting her. Lord Dekarios, the esteemed Gale of Waterdeep, is court wizard of Baldur's Gate. And yet, even finally on the same level as her, he's subject to constant attitude from Commander Adahlen'i. Never willing to listen, never able to compromise. The only thing more impressive than her stalwart mean streak is how unbelievably gorgeous she is. Miri and Gale have had unresolved sexual tension for the better part of a decade. And when tensions run high at the war table, things finally come to a head.

-----------------------Read on A03-------------------------

“Out of the question.” Miri slams a hand on the war table, making pieces jump and shudder on the map. Her lips pull back to show her teeth as she glares across the table at Lord Gale Dekarios.

Miri has served the royal family - and the country of Baldur’s Gate - for four generations. She’s been commander of the royal army for the better part of fifteen years. And Gale has been a thorn in her side for the last ten.

She liked him better when he was just an annoying apprentice. At least then he wasn’t constantly contradicting her.

This know-nothing wizard thinks he can waltz in with a new strategy on the eve of battle and demand the rest of the court just accept it. Ludicrous!

“You must be willing to consider this strategy.” Gale gestures towards the pieces lined up on the table, “It is the only viable option which remains to us-” “It is not.” She growls, barely maintaining a grip on her fury. “You are blinded by ambition, Lord Dekarios - I will not consign the soldiers of the front line to what is tantamount to a suicide mission-”

“Commander Adahlen’i.” King Ravenguard warns, crossing his arms and leveling her with a stern gaze. She bristles that he would chide her in this instance.

“To ignore the threat that the Bhaalspawn poses to the front line in favor of routing the back field means those soldiers will be fodder.” As she speaks Miri gestures to the various figurines and markers on the war map for the current Northern edge of the conflict.

“I will not stand by and accept this madness.” She looks up to glare at Gale with her arms crossed. "You think you can recommend strategies that put my soldiers in danger without challenge. I am begging you for once to care one wit for something other than your own desires."

Gale’s eyes widen a moment. He had tried to explain his reasoning - it wasn’t that he was looking forward to putting soldiers in harms way, far from it. But this was a necessary evil - his plan would not work without the Bhaalspawn being distracted.

“You have me all wrong…” he starts.

"Oh, please,” Miri cuts him short, retorting with biting sarcasm, “Tell me again how it is my inability to comprehend your scheming."

Gale rolls his eyes and scoffs. Constant attitude from the commander. Constant. Never willing to listen, never able to compromise. The only thing more impressive than her stalwart mean streak is how unbelievably gorgeous she is.

Damn elves and their long life spans. She should have been out of court decades ago - but instead generations have gone by and she has only risen in ranks. She had been promoted to Commander while he was away - and frankly he liked her better when she was just a Knight Captain and he was an Apprentice.

“I know it’s futile to explain battle strategy to you,“ Gale says with a growl of annoyance. “So allow me to make it simple enough for you to understand. My ‘scheme’ as you say - is based on intel. Not on my ‘ambition’ or whatever you accuse me of.”

Miri bristles, her scowl intensifying into a sneer that shows her sharp teeth.

Insolent brat. He’s been insufferable from the moment he returned from the academy in Waterdeep to take on the appointment of court wizard. The only thing worse than his attitude is his constant need to argue with her. For 10 years he has been one infuriating argument after the next. Constantly trying to undermine her and get under her skin.

"Do not belittle me, wizard," Miri growls back, "I’ve a century of first hand experience. You speak of battle strategy as if people are pieces on a lanceboard- yet it is I and my soldiers who must face the consequences."

 “I’ve done calculations, talked to other tacticians and I have a plan.” Gale sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 "I will not deploy my men on a suicide mission because you have spoken to a charlatan from the war college in Waterdeep."

“That ‘charlatan‘-” he almost spits out the word, “- Is one of the greatest tacticians of this generation. And I trust his opinion.” Gale breathes out harshly. “I know this plan could cost hundreds of lives Miri, but we have to take this risk-”

"You should be trusting my opinion," she growls, "Commander of the army for the nation you serve. This risk is not worth the cost you propose."

Gale’s eyes narrow as he stares at Miri, his brows darkening his eyes with his frustration.

“I do trust your opinion. Just as I trust the opinion of that tactician, and anyone else worth their salt.” Gale huffs and smirks. “Miri… I love how passionate you get about your army… I love how much you care for every soldier. But this is our kingdom at stake…”

"My soldiers are a part of this kingdom. Their families are the kingdom." She growls back.

Gale’s eyes soften in sympathy. “And my plans will keep many of those families protected. This plan would decrease lives lost, not increase it. It does mean the front line will be at higher risk-”

“It does not go far enough!” Miri interjects. “You are proposing letting a full battalion of men be slaughtered-”

“Enough!” King Ravenguard interrupts, raising a gloved hand between them. “This is going nowhere productive. We will take a recess. And we will reconvene on the topic tomorrow.”

The young king turns a serious gaze first to Gale and then to Miri. “With cooler heads.”

Miri schools her expression, turning on her heel to face Wyll Ravenguard. She raises a fist over her heart and bows slightly. “Of course, your grace.”

Without another word she turns about face to storm from the room. Gale watches her go with a scowl. He tries to ignore the way her anger and quiet strength makes his stomach flutter with heat.

Other council members start to file from the room, including the king and the captain of his guard. Gale stares down at the war map and the pieces laid out, racking his mind for better strategies. But there are none. Miri will have to see reason.

Beside him Astarion, Master of Laws and royal advisor, sighs noisily. He gives Gale a knowing look. The wizard quirks a brow at him with questioning irritation.

“Oh nothing, darling,” the pale elf smirks, “Just waiting for a bet to play out.”

Gale’s left to watch him with irritation as the elf saunters from the room and he’s left alone.

He stews for a bit longer before leaving the room in a huff.

Miri finishes her briefing with her Lieutenant, Lae’zel, in an alcove just outside the council room. Lae’zel nods curtly and leaves with her orders. Miri’s still fuming as she starts to stride towards her office.

But the heavy clanking of her armored footsteps is interrupted when a hand suddenly yanks her into a side room.

He’s cornered Miri into what seems to be an empty broom closet. He’s using his body to completely crowd Miri into the wall, his hands caging in either side of Miri’s head.

“What in the hells was that?” Gale demands. “Condescending to me as if I’m still a boy-”

Miri shifts, leaning into one hip and crossing her arms over her breastplate as she quirks a brow up at him.

"Touch a nerve today, did I?"

“A nerve? Yes! You may as well have electrocuted it!” Gale says in an exasperated tone. Gale leans further into Miri’s space, bringing their faces even closer than before. His breath tickles Miri’s face as he speaks. “I’ve had enough!”

"You’re on the council. Act like it. You cannot react this way any time I disagree with you." Miri glares up at him, her arms crossed over her chest.

Gale scoffs and smirks at her reply.

“You don’t disagree with me Miri, you defy me. Undermine me,” Gale says in a hushed voice, his eyes now roaming her face as he speaks. Miri’s anger has given her beautiful sharp angles as her jaw is clenched tightly.

"You have no authority over me, it is not defiance." The pointed fingertips of her gauntlets tap idly against the rerembrace on her bicep.

Gale looks at her gauntlets for a moment; their sharpness and strength suit Miri’s beauty. They show the depth of strength she possesses, not only in body but heart. But her arrogance brushes against his pride in a way that makes him bristle.

“I give good advice, Miri. I’m good at my job,” his voice pitches low with irritation. “When you play your little games while I‘m trying to do something that matters, of course it touches a nerve!”

"I play no games," Miri returns calmly. "I’m an advisor just as much as you are.”

Gale’s face bunches with anger at the flippant response. In a quick motion, his hands move from the wall to Miri’s shoulders and he pushes - pinning her harder against the wall. His face is still close as he growls out a reply.

“If you don’t play games then what do you call this?”

“Hm.” She assesses him for a moment, trying to smother a grin. "An unruly conversation."

Gale feels like he’s about to burst at the seams at her reply. And this time a sliver of desperation is laced behind his angry words.

“Gods damn you, Miri. That isn’t what you-“ Gale cuts himself off from finishing his statement with a frustrated groan. His grip loosens on Miri’s shoulder as he leans his forehead into her neck in defeat.

"Giving up so soon?" Miri murmurs to him with what sounds like amusement.

“No,” Gale returns resolutely.

He picks his head up from Miri’s neck, and placing both of his hands on Miri’s cheeks to hold her head steady. Their lips are just inches apart - all he would have to do is lean down for them to connect.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispers. Not angrily. Desperate. Hungry.

"I have some idea," she returns softly.

“Oh?” Gale’s tone is laced with desire. He slides his hands from her cheeks to the back of her head, pulling on her hair to tilt her head back just the barest amount. Just enough so her lips are in reach. “Then tell me what you think. Tell me what you think I want more than anything right now.”

"Oh, Gale," she murmurs with a grin. Smug. "You want me so badly it makes you look stupid."

And he should be angry. But he isn’t and that’s almost worse.

“Yes. I do. But do you know what’s truly stupid, Miri?” He searches her eyes, his gaze darting to her soft pink lips. “I want you to want me just as badly. But you don’t, do you?”

Gale’s brow furrows with frustration. She’s agony. So long he’s wanted her. Watched her. And it’s always this. This teasing back and forth, this dance along a knife’s edge.

“You just like making me squirm in my seat like a fool because I can’t keep you off my mind.”

"So smart," Miri muses, her smile almost sultry, "Yet you can't imagine why I would want you to think about me so much."

Gale’s grip on her tightens ever so slightly. Her words do something to him. They make heat unspool low in his stomach.

“You’re like a song stuck in my head. I hear you all the time. All day you make a point to see me, talk with me, play your little games. And when I get a moment to myself- to breathe for once in a gods-damned day, I still-“ Gale cuts himself off before his words can betray him, his cheeks flushing red.

"Don't stop there, you were just about to reveal something very interesting," she purrs with a grin.

She raises a gauntleted hand to stroke a finger down the length of his jaw. A shiver rockets down his spine and over his whole body at the touch.

This damnable teasing.

"Do you think of me when you're alone in your chambers?"

When he replies, his voice is darker - even rougher than before.

“Gods yes. I do. I- I cannot wait till nightfall where I am alone and can imagine-“ Gale stops again, his breath labored. But the look in her eyes almost demands he continues. So he does, his voice breathy, “I can imagine you next to me. What our skin would feel like against each other.”

Miri bites her lip with those long canines, staring up at him with an ardent desire.

"And?"

“And that you would let me touch you, kiss you. Take you.” He whispers his confession, leaning in ever closer. His lips brush softly against Miri with every word. “I would hold you in my arms and not let go till dawn if I could…”

She can’t resist finding out more. To finally see him unraveling just a bit - to take advantage of him letting his guard down. The look on his face is absolutely desperate. Perfect.

"Hmm," Miri murmurs softly, letting her voice pitch a little lower. "And are these dreams or fantasies? Are you awake to take yourself in hand?"

Gale’s eyes shut tightly at her seductive tone. This time his whole body shudders. He leans down slightly to bury his head back into the crook of Miri’s shoulder.

“Gods help me. You just love hearing me squirm. But yes, they are both.” He grumbles into her neck.

"And the second question?"

Her hands move to his hips, her thumbs tracing teasingly inward towards where he strains against his trousers. Gale’s head shoots straight up at the feeling of Miri’s thumbs coming so close to his straining, aching heat. He takes in a sharp breath at the feeling, trying to keep his hips still, but quickly regains himself.

“I- I am awake. But I am not a monster. I will not do those things without your consent.” Gale says it shakily, but still with a thread of determination.

He does not want to be a man that lusts after a non-consenting partner. She quirks a brow at him with intrigue - clearly not expecting that answer.

"Truly?" Her fingers inch ever closer. "And if I said I would consent?"

A low, strained sound of pleasure leaves Gale at the very idea of it. He is already so close to the brink, and having her permission would push him over the edge.

“Yes, I would. I- gods, you tease me so. You’ve no idea what you do to me."

"Why don't you show me?" Miri smiles coyly up at him.

She runs one finger, feather light, over his clothed arousal from root to tip. A delightful pressure followed by the delicate brush of the gauntlet’s metal tip. As soon as her fingers brush against his swollen length, Gale lets out a pleasured moan. He can’t help but thrust into her hand, desperate for the feeling.

“Miri-“ he gasps. He looks down at her, almost pleadingly, before she can continue. “That feels so good. Gods… I’ve wanted this for so long…”

"Show me, Gale," she murmurs, taking her hands away. "Show me what you will do with my consent."

It’s like she lit a fire deep in his belly. He pushes away from the wall, putting a gentle hand against her waist to guide her to an inner storage room that’s hidden from the rest of the world by a door. He closes the door behind them, and the only light is the one that shines through the cracks underneath and around the frame.

“I don’t want anyone to see us,” he whispers, before he’s walking toward her like a man possessed.

"Ah ah," she tuts, stopping him with a raised hand to his chest. Miri grins, and he almost can't see it in the gloom of the closet. She, on the other hand, has darkvision and can see him perfectly.

"I have given you consent to think of me while you take yourself to hand." She raises a gauntleted hand in invitation as she takes a seat on an available storage crate.

"Show me."

Gale groans.

This is going to be the death of him. He’s so desperate for it- for anything from her. And she’s already staring at him with those bright eyes like a hungry predator.

Gale moans and closes his eyes, leaning back against a wall nearby for support. His hands go to his trousers after only a moment’s hesitation, undoing the ties and pushing them down and away from his hips.

“Gods, look at you, already watching me. I cannot think of anything other than touching you. Feeling you. Gods, I want it so badly.”

Miri watches with approval as his aching cock springs free. Her eyes are locked on him as she watches with a sultry smile. Already weeping at the tip just from their conversation.

Gale’s breaths are already coming in ragged bursts just from the idea of Miri looking at him. Seeing him like this. Watching as he...

“Gods… “ he says with a breathless edge. One of his hands gently wraps around his aching length. Miri takes in every movement, every expression that passes on his face.

“Are you watching me, Miri?” He asks, looking at her eyes through the dark of the closet.

"Oh, yes," she answers, her tone dark and husky. "I’m watching very closely. Keep going for me,"

The words - oh dark as sin - do wicked things to him. Gale almost whimpers at the sound of her tone and squeezes his base, biting his lip to keep a moan from leaving his lips.

“I- gods you have me so- so worked up from your tease-“ His voice tapers off into a guttural moan mid-sentence. His breathing and stroking pick up in pace, and his breath hitches slightly.

"Tell me about it," Miri purrs, resting her elbow on her crossed knee and leaning her chin into her hand. Drinking in the sight of him - panting, needy, giving in to his desires. "How do you feel? What are you thinking of?"

“Gods I can’t- don’t make me say it…” He whines and squeezes his eyes shut before finally glancing upward to lock onto Miri’s gaze. His pupils are almost completely blown out from the dark and the pleasure, drowning his brown eyes in debauchery.

“It’s you… and your teasing. I want to-” he moans again, arching his hips into his hand.

Her gaze is so hungry - soaking in his every move, every breath. She smiles at the way she's affecting him. Miri can feel her own arousal growing at the sight of him unraveling.

"Please?" She breathes.

Gale’s heart skips a beat in his chest. As he continues to touch himself in the dark, his mind wanders to all the ways he’s thought of taking Miri before. And how much he wants her right now.

“I want-” He gasps and stutters. “I want to take you… take you until you’ve nothing left in you.”

"How would you take me, Gale?"

Those words are like an electric jolt in his brain. He groans and his voice drops as he replies.

“I’d touch you just how you were teasing me. Right over your armor. But then I’d-“ He moans again, a look of lust filling his who face. “Gods you’re going to make me finish and you haven’t really done anything.”

"Oh, don't stop now," she purrs, shifting to uncross and re-cross her legs.

Gale’s knees buckle slightly as he takes in that sight. It’s not even anything sensual and yet she makes it feel like such a tease. His moans pitch slightly as he speeds up again, his head falling back against the wall. Gale’s hand squeezes at his base while the other works his length in a steady rhythm.

“I’d strip you of your armor, tease your skin, bite your neck - anything to hear the perfect sounds you’d make…” He looks at her once more through lidded eyes. “Gods you’re beautiful, just watching me…”

"And what a sight you are," she returns, her voice like silk stroking his skin. The heat of her gaze is nearly a caress against his body in its intensity. Her eyes seem to glow in the dim light.

"How do you imagine making me moan for you?"

Gale lets out another groan as the image of making her moan flashes in his mind. He has to work to keep his pace from speeding up too much. He’s almost panting now, desperate for more and more.

“Gods I- I think of so many ways.” He moans. “On your back… on your knees, begging, pleading. I’ll make you moan my name over and over so that you remember-“

Her words are like fire in his brain. He lets out a harsh, gasping breath. “Gods Miri, your voice sounds like velvet.”

"Mmm," she makes a soft sound in her throat. "Imagine what my mouth must feel like," she purrs.

Gale’s jaw clenches as his hand quickens once more. The thought of her mouth around him, her tongue running across the length of him has him keening and groaning.

“Gods… I- if it feels anything like your voice I think I’d lose my mind.”

"Oh, I imagine it's better," she returns. She makes show of looking at how he works himself before looking up to his eyes and licking her lips.

His eyes almost roll back when he takes in the image before him. It’s all he can do to keep himself from finishing right then and there on himself.

“Gods you- I would beg to see those lips on me. I-” A moan comes from deep in his chest. “I wonder if you taste as good as you look in the light.”

Miri grins that predatory smile again. She puts her hands on her knees and spreads her legs wide.

"Do you imagine tasting me?"

“Nnngh yes!” His hips thrust involuntarily into his hand as the idea of tasting Miri shoots through his system. The thought of kneeling before her, having her thighs against his ears... “Gods you don’t- you don’t know the things you do to me.”

"Oh, but you're showing me right now," Miri purrs with a grin. She leans back on her hands slightly, spreading her legs just a little further.

“Gods-“ Gale moans and stutters. He’s close to the edge and her words are sending him deeper and deeper into the pool of pleasure. “I- you wouldn’t mind if I- If I-?” He’s desperate, his eyes glued to her spread legs and how they entice him.

"What do you want, Gale?" Miri murmurs with a grin.

His hand speeds up, he’s quickly nearing his peak. He’s barely able to speak he’s so far gone in the heat of it all.

“I’m- I’m so close… Gods I- I need your permission to-“ he moans.

"Oh," Miri watches how he bucks and strokes erratically - the way his skin is flushed with pleasure. He looks utterly debauched and delectable. "You want to come for me, sweetheart?"

He nods with near desperation his voice shaking as more moans leave him. He’s on the edge, desperate to reach that peak, just for her.

“Gods, yes, Miri, let me- let me come for you.”

"Good boy," Miri croons with a delightful smile. "Come for me, Gale. Show me how I make you feel."

It’s like a dam collapses as a tidal wave of pleasure crashes through him all at once. He throws his head back and moans her name as his body stiffens and he releases hot and thick into his own hand. He has to reach out with one hand to steady himself against the wall as the force of it makes his knees week.

He can’t even bring himself to feel shame as he pants raggedly - not with the way her eyes are glued to him.

“I almost wish there was enough illumination for you to see what you just did to me,” he murmurs softly.

"Oh, sweet Gale. So good for me," Miri grins, her voice dripping with a dark mischief and approval, "I have darkvision."

His eyes widen, a look of surprise crossing his face. His breathing is still uneven and he’s slumped slightly against the wall. Oh, gods, of course she does. It’s not dark in here for her at all. No subtlety or veil of dim light. The blush on his face deepens considerably.

“Then-“ he pants, his mind still reeling. “You saw- how I-?”

"I saw every perfect movement, every lovely expression."

The realization makes his already flushed face turn somehow darker. He groans and glances away. Only now does a sense of shame hit him as he tries to cover himself with his hand. A quick flick of his wrist and the mess is cleaned away. But that won’t undo what he just did.

“You’ll never let me forget this, will you?” He groans and shakes his head before slowly righting himself and tucking his now softening length away.

"I certainly won't forget this," Miri returns in earnest, biting her lip softly. Her gaze is still heated as she watches him.

Even in the dim light he can feel the heat of her gaze on his face and he can’t seem to meet her eyes. He’s embarrassed even though he knows she asked for it.

His breathing slowly comes back to normal as he comes down from his high. He glances up at her through disheveled tendrils of his long hair, wearing a bashful but satisfied smile.

“Well… at least you were entertained.”

"Quite," she returns, her gaze trailing over him. "And I will be quite entertained thinking of how often you might repeat this performance in the solitude of your chambers..."

Her eyes flit up to his. "Unless, of course, you'd like an audience. In which case you know where my quarters are."

Gale stares at her for a moment and blinks, stunned. He blinks a few times more before a grin forms on his face. Gods above, this woman.

“I-“ He laughs breathlessly, that blush on his cheeks intensifying. ”I- I think some night I might take you up on that offer… if you- if you’d be willing to have me.”

"Oh, quite willing," she purrs as she stands.

He swallows with a shaky nod, excitement and anxiety filling his brain. He watches her stand, his eyes drinking in her form. His breath catches for a moment as she moves closer to him.

“Gods you-“ he shakes his head and chuckles a bit breathlessly. “I might want to make use of your offer as soon as tonight…”

"Mmm," Miri gives him an approving once over. "Then I shall look forward to it."

He nods a bit meekly and adjusts his robes once more so they lay properly over his frame. His eyes catch hers once more as he takes in her gaze.

“I- um…” He laughs nervously and glances away. “I‘m assuming you won’t be going back to court after...this?”

He motions to the two of them and what he just did. Miri grins.

"No. Unfortunately, I have an audience with a baron about conscription and troop movements. I fear it’ll take until supper." She gives something of a wistful sigh.

"But I do plan on retiring early this evening," she adds with a wink.

Gale’s throat tightens at the promise in the words. He nods and glances at the doors of the closet, then back at Miri.

“Will this- um- will this change things between us?” His voice wavers with the question, unsure of how he’d like to answer it himself. There was still their professional relationship, and some semblance of a friendship there. But there was now a more intimate connection…

But could the two exist at the same time in peace?

"I will remain professional as long as you do," she returns pleasantly. "No need to rush anything."

He lets out a small breath of relief that she hadn’t dismissed the idea outright or without much thought. He smiles a little more confidently.

“Alright, then.” He takes a step closer to her, his cheeks still red. “Until tonight?”

"Until tonight, sweetheart," she purrs, stroking a hand along his cheek. He leans into the touch without thinking, his skin feeling almost electrified by her touch. Even with her gloves still on, her hands feel warm against his flushed skin. And that pet name...gods he didn’t know if he’d ever get used to that.

“Miri,“ he starts hesitantly. His voice is low and it nearly comes out as a sigh with his proximity to her. Before he can think better of it, he continues, “I look forward to tonight.” She gives him a sultry smile full of promise. Then she turns on her heel and leaves the little closet without another word.

Gale watches her go and sighs softly. There’s a smile on his face that will take many minutes to subside. He leans against the wall of the closet, the stone still cold against his back as he catches his breath. Then after a few moments pass and he’s even vaguely steadier, he straightens himself out again and exits the closet as well, preparing to return to court.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #gale x tav #bg3 fanfiction #gale x f!tav #oc: miri #galemance #my writing #royal court au #knight x noble #frenemies to lovers #gale fanfic

[minecraft-axolotyl]

"Go To Hell" - WIP (Gale x Tav)

I have this curse of "I can't write anything in order" (It's ADHD) so I haven't posted a lot of my writing on here yet, despite the 50+ pages of lore I have for my Tav and Gale's story XD

So instead I wanted to share a piece of this scene I'm working on! (based on Gale's First Night in Camp dialogue)

------------------------------------------

With little else to do aside from pacing across the grove all night, SJ decided to check on him.

Gale let out a deep sigh, warming his hands over the campfire as she approached.

“Go to hell.” He said, slowly, never taking his eyes off the flames.

She hadn't expected Gale to be optimistic about their decidedly terrifying situation, but a more polite greeting to the person who saved his life would have been nice.

Blinking at the sudden attitude, SJ replied with, “Been there, done that. Wouldn't recommend it.”

“Ha-” he turned his head to look at her with a half smile. “You're a good sport.”

“I do try. Mind if I join you?”

“By all means.” Gale gestured to the space at his side, moving away to make room as she sat down beside him.

The smoky aroma in the air, combined with the heat radiating off the fire seemed to calm the tadpole's insistent writhing.

“Anything in particular I did to deserve that lovely greeting?" SJ asked, attempting to distract herself from the sudden itching sensation behind her right eye.

“Nothing, I assure you. I'm just… poorly making a point. A rather trivial statement in other circumstances. But we've seen hell, and it isn't trivial.” he replied, staring miserably at the fire.

“So your point was best made by telling a tiefling to go to hell?” she chuckled, hoping to make light of something whatever was bothering him.

Gale opened his mouth to explain, but quickly abandoned the thought in favor of another.

“Perhaps one day I'll be able to speak to you without making an ass of myself, but it appears that day will not be today.”

“Well there’s always tomorrow.” she shrugged, already wondering what might come of their mission to rescue the archdruid. “That is, assuming we survive the night.”

“Hmm. True enough. What a difference a day makes.” he added, wistfully.

“Tell me about it. Why do you think I'm out here? I can't sleep with this... thing, in my head.”

As she spoke, SJ could already feel her eyelids grow heavier. A weariness began to seep into her body as the warmth of the flames caressed her skin. Despite the many unknowns of their unwelcome passengers, it seemed odd that the tadpole would respond to a change in temperature outside the body.

“What are you still doing up?” she asked, through a yawn.

“The fire was starting to dim. After the debacle with those goblins, I thought it best to keep as much light around us as possible.”

“I can keep an eye on it,” she offered. “if you wanted to get some sleep.”

Gale considered the statement, before shaking his head. “A ballet of flames invites reflection. I’d rather stay, if it’s all the same to you.”

It didn’t take the connection of a mind flayer tadpole to know what was really bothering him. Their shared affliction had been on (and in) everyone’s minds since escaping the Nautiloid.

“Afraid I’ll turn while you’re sleeping and eat your brain?” she smirked.

Gale wasn’t quite as amused. His eyes locked onto hers, nervously studying her face as if she was about to transform right in front of him.

“I’m just joking... I’m fine.” she said, firmly.

“Oh I’m sure you are.” Gale replied, his expression relaxing as he turned towards the fire once again. “Illithids aren’t exactly known for their wit. Famously humorless creatures.”

“Then I’ll be sure to crack a joke or two every once and a while, just so you know you’re safe around me.” SJ said, nudging his arm with her elbow. 

Hidden in the firelight reflecting off his face, she could have sworn she caught him smile.

#galeposting #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #bg3 tav #gale x tav #bg3 spoilers #gale dekarios #bg3 oc #bg3 writing #gale x f!tav #gale x female tav

[miradelletarot]

You want fluff? You want smut? you want pre-wedded bliss? you want sexy time during a thunderstorm?? Then LOOK NO FURTHER!

Slaps this post like it's the hood of a car This baby's got everything you need right under the hood! Just click the link and take 'er for a spin!

#idk what the fuck that was #but i'm in a good mood #I had a really productive day #and i'm off to write the wedding chapter #so buckle up buttercups #it's about to get WILD #or not #just really sappy and romantic #i'm gonna stop tagging #and let you read it #please share this #feed the praise k*nk #tell me you like it #or don't #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #bg3 gale #baldur's gate 3 #gale #baldur's gate gale #baldurs gate #gale romance #gale x tav #the weave and the vines #Vineweave #sagora x gale #sagora #gale x f!tav #gale x oc

[loviatarsluv]

Would That I (3)

pairing: Gale x f!tav (my own oc, Elara)

(takes place in an AU where the absolute and the cult basically don't exist so this is non-canon compliant, I guess)

rating: slightly mature (no spice just yet)

content includes: yearning and pining (still), teacher gale, tara being the best wingman (heh) in waterdeep, fluff

in summary: things are still a little tense the morning after the almost kiss, and both gale and elara are miserable (but still somehow cannot communicate properly for the life of themselves) until an unexpected magic lesson brings them together and makes them have a much needed discussion

a/n: ugh I wanted to make this a slow slow slow burn but I just can’t help it I need to write sweet wizard smut STAT so here we flippin go gamers it has begun

word count: 7k

Wordless meals and silent mornings were not a novel concept. 

She’d endured many in her years living with her uncle, who was not exactly a morning person by any means, whilst she typically was the opposite. 

She was an early riser, always had been. She loved waking up with just enough time to greet the sun as it peeked over the horizon. She loved being able to sit outside and admire the way it painted the sky in gorgeous pastel hues as if it were an offering or a gift to those who woke early enough to see it. She loved the purity of the calm and quiet of the breeze off of the ocean and the songs of the birds before the rest of the world had begun to stir for the day, before the sounds of the bustle of the city could drown them out.

The first month or so living here in Waterdeep, mornings were mostly like this, as they hadn’t really gotten to know each other well enough for any substantial conversation or even most small talk. It wasn’t quite so agonizing then, though, as it is now. It was a gentle awkwardness then, both of them wanting to initiate conversation but not really knowing how to. This— this was much worse. 

She woke to the smell of breakfast already cooking and the faint sounds of pots and pans clattering. That was her first warning sign. 

She almost always woke before Gale on any given day. She would normally be lounging by her favorite tree or reclining on the sofa in the main area reading by the time he stumbled into the kitchen, eyes still full of sleep and voice still gruff. 

She debated just locking herself in this room and hiding away until uncle Alastor returned— as impractical as it was of an idea, its appeal only increased  as her morning dragged on. 

She took her time dressing for the day, hoping maybe Gale would finish his breakfast before she made it downstairs and move on with his day. That, of course, was a fruitless thought. 

Even with tensions as high as they were, he still waited for her, busying himself by burying his nose within a tome about Abjuration as he absently pushed around his food with his fork. 

He was still in his night clothes— his loose white linen shirt very loosely laced and showcasing the dark hair on his chest, his deep indigo comfort robe very lazily thrown over his shoulders, and she assumed he was wearing his matching linen pants as well but couldn’t see past the table. His glasses were perched in the spot they almost always were whenever he read— right on the tip of his nose— as his brows furrowed in concentration while his dark eyes skimmed over the pages. His hair was mostly tied back, only a few loose strands falling around his shoulders and face. 

The universe was mocking her, she was sure of it. 

He was being dangled in front of her, like a carrot being dangled on a string before a rabbit to encourage it to run. And oh, hells, did she want to run right into his arms— if only they had been open for her to run into. 

“Good morning,” He says, never looking up from the pages of his book as he greets her, his voice warm but not entirely eager. Not the way it had been nearly every morning prior.

“Morning,” she says meekly, her voice still rough from slumber. She sits without another word, staring down at her plate. 

She knows that he won’t eat unless she does, he always waited for her to eat before he took a bite. But she could not muster the appetite to even be interested in what looked to be an otherwise delicious breakfast. She sighs, grabbing her fork and prodding at one of the eggs on her plate. 

His eyebrow quirks as he glances up at her, noticing her poking at her food when normally she’d have been wolfing it down by now. He clears his throat. “Not hungry?” 

She meets his gaze with trepidation, hoping she isn’t offending him even further than she already had the night prior. She sits back in her seat, leaning her head against the backing of it and directing her face toward the ceiling. “Not particularly.” She admits. 

He nods, then takes a small bite of his own food. “I can save it for you, for when you are. If you’d like.” 

She offers him a weak but thankful smile. “I’d appreciate that.” 

Not another word was exchanged between them for the rest of the time that they both remained downstairs, until eventually Gale stood and grabbed both of their plates and began to wash up, barely acknowledging her as he reached over her to reach her plate. 

Agonizing may have been putting it lightly. She was in utter misery. 

She wanted to ask him if there was a time traveling spell that he could teach her, but decided maybe that wasn’t the best idea considering he was very clearly a large reason for her wanting to learn the spell to begin with. 

She stays frozen in her seat for what felt like an eternity, unsure whether she wanted to break the silence or not. She took far too long to decide, because after a while, Gale emerged from the kitchen once again and breezed past her, heading straight for the stairs. She doesn’t dare turn to look, but she hears him pause on the first step for a moment before continuing to ascend the steps and retreat into his office for the day. 

“Fucking hells,” she curses under her breath, her head falling into her hands as she releases an exasperated huff. Her shoulders began to ache from how tense she’d held them for the entire morning so far, but her muscles had no intent on relaxing any time soon. 

“Language, Miss Heartspell,” Tara chides as she glides down onto the table from somewhere behind her. She jumps slightly, the sudden presence unexpected. 

She sighs, placing a hand over her heart. “Tara. You scared the hells out of me,” she tries to steady her breathing. “I’m sorry.” 

“What ails you this morning, friend? You look like you barely slept a wink.” The tressym observes, her large green eyes boring into her as she eyes her curiously and with slight concern. 

Your wizard and his big dumb brown eyes and his stupidly beautiful hair and that godsdamned shirt—

“Just tired. Couldn’t sleep well last night.” 

That was putting it very simply. She had barely slept more than a handful of hours, not nearly enough to be well rested enough to function through the day. She felt terrible, and it seemed that she looked the part as well, according to her small feathered friend. 

“Would this have anything to do with Mr. Dekarios and his admittedly awful attitude?” she grunts, rolling her eyes and baring her teeth slightly. “He’s been incorrigible since yesterday evening.”

How to politely tell a grumpy tressym that you may or may not be the cause of her wizard’s ire— step one: don’t. 

“Has he? I hadn’t noticed,” she remarks nonchalantly, the tiniest hint of sarcasm in her tone. “I’m sure he’s fine.” 

Tara scoffs, stretching her tiny body as far as she can and yawning, digging her claws into the placemat where Gale’s plate had been a few minutes prior. “Maybe he’s finally realized he needs to shave that wretched thing on his chin.” 

She lets out a chuckle— though she rather loved his facial hair, for numerous reasons— she found Tara’s hatred for it endlessly amusing. She was constantly pestering him to shave or at the very least trim it, and likely he ignored her just to spite her. Their bond reminded her of a doting mother and her slightly rebellious but very respectful son. She’d raised him right. Her, and Morena, of course. 

She hadn’t met his mother yet, only heard stories and small little details about her that he’d share. She seemed lovely, just based on what her son told her. Plus, any woman who could raise a man like Gale Dekarios had to be something special. 

She wonders how many lovers he’d taken to meet her, if any had ever made it far enough for him to deem it appropriate to introduce them— she wonders what his criteria for such a thing would be. 

“Tara? Can I ask you a question?” She asks, biting down on her lip nervously. 

Tara stares back at her expectantly, awaiting her questioning. 

“It’s a strange question… just— please, keep this between us, okay?” She begins, placing her elbow on the table and resting her cheek against her hand. “Has… has Gale ever been… married?” 

Tara has to hold back a cackle, stopping herself before her amusement takes hold. “Oh, darling, no. Mr. Dekarios has had few friends, we’ll call them. Can hardly get the man’s nose out of his books, doesn’t typically fare well for his social life, much less his romantic life.” 

She blinks rapidly in surprise, her eyes widening. It made sense, and no sense at all in the same vein. It seemed so strange, just considering who Gale was and the gentlemanly nature of him that he hadn’t had any long term loves. She would’ve imagined him to either have had several failed loves or only one very long term one— more likely the latter, she thought. 

She nods. “Makes sense.” A lie. 

Tara eyes her suspiciously, carefully strolling across the table to her. “Miss Heartspell, might I be so bold for just a moment, to ask you what that ninny upstairs seems to be too frightened to?” 

She cocks an eyebrow up at her, sitting up straight in her chair. “What might that be?” 

“Are you spoken for? Have you got someone waiting for you back in Rivington?” She asks, sitting perfectly prim and proper in front of her, her peridot irises catching her crystal blue ones in an intense gaze. 

She pauses for a minute, the question having caught her more than off guard. “N-No, I don’t. I don’t exactly have the most successful social life, either.” 

Tara’s eyes gleamed, seeming all too pleased and Elara could tell that if she could, she’d undoubtedly have a knowing smirk on her face. 

“Hm. Fascinating.” Is all she says before prepping her wings to take flight, flapping them and stretching them gently. Before she can give any sort of response, Tara departs from the conversation and soars out of the open window, surely off to terrorize all the local gulls and pigeons. The mail couriers must wish to stuff her or turn her into stew at this point. 

These two and the way they end conversations. Ugh. 

Which reminds her— once again, ugh. 

Last night could not have ended worse, aside from possibly being told to pack her belongings and leave— though she doubts that Gale would ever do that without warning. 

She wanted to talk to Gale about everything— well, maybe not everything— but she had never really talked to anybody about her parents or what happened to them. Not even Alastor. It was a forbidden subject in that household as far as she was concerned. Too many emotions to sort through to pile onto someone else. Plus, she didn’t want to be treated differently, or viewed through different eyes that pitied her. It happened so many years ago, but the occasional nightmares made her feel as though it happened only the night prior. 

Perhaps it would be nice— to talk to someone. Gale was easy to talk to. He listened so intently and he was always engaged, even if it were the most uninteresting conversation in the world. Perhaps that was why he was so well learned— he was an excellent listener. 

It couldn’t hurt to try. 

 ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊⋆⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊⋆

The door to his study seemed so much more imposing when you were on the other side of it, with your knuckles primed to meet the sturdy wood and plead for entry. 

He almost never shut his office door.

Perhaps now isn’t a good time. 

She sighs quietly, her chin falling to rest on her chest and her gaze at the spot on the floor between her feet, defeated. 

Perhaps another time. 

She turns to head down the hall toward her bedroom, just as she hears the creaking of the office door behind her, opening. 

She shifts slightly, peering over her shoulder and expecting to find a certain pair of brown eyes watching her as she creeps through the hall— only to find nothing. The door was slightly ajar, but no sight of the wizard within. 

Curious, she takes a few cautious steps forward, careful to move quietly and mindfully. She stops just before she could peek in to see whether Gale was at his desk or not, using the door to shield herself from view— then she hears the sound of a strange whooshing from right on the other side of the door, to the opposite side of the room, likely where Gale sat. She raises her eyebrow, confusion written all over her face as she finally peeks in the room. 

Gale is at his desk, where she half expected him to be, leaning against the back of his chair, his feet propped on a small stool next to him and a scroll in hand. 

Normal. 

Her eyes scan a little further to search for the source of the strange noise, finding nothing— until she hears it again, just before an icy blue flash of light soars across her vision in the shape of a disembodied hand.  

A mage hand. She’d seen her uncle conjure one once before— only because he thought she wasn’t around and couldn’t see. 

The spectral hand flew to the top of one of the large bookcases on the far end of the room, swiftly retrieving a book and bringing it back down and placing it on Gale’s desk. He sighs, running a hand down his face, then scratching against his beard as he places the scroll next to the newly acquired book. 

She cranes her neck a little further, trying to watch as he commands the mage hand around, then loses her balance just enough to send her falling forward and into the room, crash landing into her hands and knees. 

Gale jumps at the sound of her colliding with the ground, standing and leaning over his desk, worry in his eyes as he peers down at her. 

“By Mystra’s mantle, are you alright?” 

She sits up and rubs her hands sheepishly, the heels of them aching from the force of her contact with the hard wooden floor. “Sorry, I just— I was passing by, and I saw— I just… got curious. I apologize.” 

Gale’s brows furrow as he looks around, searching for what was out of the ordinary that she was referring to. He disregards it for a moment as he rounds the side of his desk, briskly walking across the room to her side and offering her a hand up. 

She looks up at him for a moment before accepting his offer, slipping her hand into his. He braces her with his other hand on her elbow and pulls her to her feet, holding her steady while she gets her bearings. 

“Why don’t you always just— use that? Why do you ever have me help when you can just…” she trails off, motioning with her hands what appeared to be a conjuration. 

His eyes widen slightly as he realizes what she was referring to, then motions the mage hand to come closer. “This— have you never seen a mage hand before? Has Alastor not conjured one in front of you before?” 

She shakes her head. “I caught a glimpse of one once, but it was so fast I couldn’t tell what it was. My uncle rarely did magic around me, mostly just small spells here and there. I, myself, only know a few simple spells that I taught myself. Granted, I'm not very good at it, but they’ve come in handy at times.” 

Gale hears Alastor in his head from the night he invited him over for that fateful dinner: perhaps Mr. Dekarios could pick up on your old man’s slack and actually teach you some damn magic. 

“What a strange one, that old man is. Cryptic as ever. I’m not sure why I was under the impression that any of this was old news to you.” He says, motioning to the crystalline digits beside him, motioning for it to wiggle its fingers. 

She shrugs, her eyes locked on the spell with a certain childlike wonder in her eyes that Gale couldn’t help but find most endearing. It reminded him of being young and awed by his own conjurations and manipulations of the weave and those of his professors at Blackstaff. 

“Would you like to learn?” He asks her, snapping her from her daze and her eyes flying to his in disbelief. 

“Are you serious?” Her voice is quiet, as if he’d just asked her the most scandalous of questions.

She had long abandoned the hope of learning even just the basics of wizardry, seeing as neither Gale, nor even Alastor in his letters, had ever mentioned it since the night they discussed this arrangement. She never asked, because the last thing she wanted to be was a bother to the man who so kindly took her in without a second thought. She never abandoned her desire to learn all together, though. That still lingered. 

“I don’t see why not,” he drawls, stepping backward a few steps to allow her space to enter the room further. “Perhaps it’ll be helpful for us both. Besides, it’s been quite some time since I’ve had a willing and able pupil to impart my vast knowledge on.” 

I could kiss you right now! 

A grin paints itself across her face so wide that she fears it may crack, her eyes lit up and her hands clasped together in excitement. She realizes and quickly adjusts her behavior from juvenile enthusiasm to calm and collected curiosity, though she couldn’t entirely contain the smile on her face. 

“I’d love to.” Was the tame iteration of what she wanted to say. Given the state of their relationship being somewhat cloudy and confusing at the moment, she rather not push her luck. This was an excellent excuse to get him to talk to her to make up for the painfully silent morning they shared just hours prior. 

Not to mention, it gave her more untainted time with him before she decided to share with him her tales of woe of life as an orphan and being decidedly unpopular within her community back in Rivington. She was more than thankful for the distraction and redirection. 

“Excellent!” He claps his hands together, a pleased smirk on his lips as he takes his glasses off and allows them to fall against his chest, hanging by the dainty golden chain attached to them that hung around his neck. “This one is a fairly easy spell to learn. I learned to conjure my first mage hand at the ripe age of seven. Drove my dear mother up the wall when she’d ask me to do my chores only to catch me lounging with my nose in a book while this fellow did all the heavy lifting.” 

She chuckles, picturing a younger Gale getting into all sorts of mischief and being too smart for his own good and his poor mother trying desperately to keep up with him. She imagines that he has her eyes and her smile, despite never seeing her with her own eyes. It was just a feeling. 

He motions for her to come closer, pointing to the spot just beside him for her to stand. She obliges, standing right where he’d indicated, turning to face the direction he was facing. 

“You said that you know a few simple spells, yes?” 

She nods. 

“Excellent. Would you be able to demonstrate something for me?”

She looks at him with uncertainty for a pause, prompting him to nod and encourage her to try something simple, the look on his face purely that of a warm encouragement and devoid of all judgment. 

Despite this, she still feels the swell of embarrassment before she even attempts the bare minimum spell that she knew— knowing that her talents were meager in comparison to his. She swallows hard and tries to steady herself, attempting to focus so the spell doesn’t go awry. 

She moves her hands in a flourish that took much more effort than anything she’d ever seen Gale do, only to conjure a small flash of purple weave, sparks scintillating at her fingertips as the spell leaves her palm and quickly dissipates into the air. She frowns deeply, averting her gaze back to the ground between her feet. 

“Please don’t laugh at me.” She groans, heaving a sigh as her cheeks and neck heat and tinge a bright pink. 

“Hey,” he coos, crossing the space between them and tapping her chin with his fingertips to urge her face upward to meet his gaze. “I’ve seen novices do much worse than that even after an entire fortnight of study— nobody got hurt, in this case, which is fantastic. Once, during my time at Blackstaff, one of my classmates set the entire room ablaze while practicing simple incantations. I had to be the one to put it out as I was the only one that already knew how to conjure water.” 

She tries in vain to bite back the smile threatening the corners of her lips, and allows a chuckle to pass through her as her eyes meet his. He brushes against her chin with his thumb a couple passes before pulling away. She’s still getting used to Gale’s sudden physicality— not that she would complain. Not even slightly. 

Especially after the events of the evening prior, as she half expected him to be withdrawn entirely. She hoped he took note of the way she leaned ever so slightly into his touch. The way she savored it. 

“I picture you as the perfect pupil to any professor. So bookish and attentive. You’re a scholar’s wet dream.” She jokes, poking his chest with featherlight jabs. He coughs at her crude remark, his eyes widening and his chest heaving as he attempts to regain composure. She’s full blown cackling now, causing his chuckles to join hers in harmony of the melodic sounds surging between them. 

“Perhaps you should borrow a page from my book, then,” he jests as he gives her a lighthearted warning grimace, his earthly eyes glinting golden in the candlelight. “We’ve only just begun our lessons and you’ve already sassed your tutor.” 

“My mistake, Professor Dekarios. I solemnly swear it won’t happen again,” she pauses, a devious smirk on her lips at the name that causes his face to flush at the sound of it. “Probably.” 

He feels something stir within him at the sound of that name falling from her lips that he refuses to recognize, if only to spare himself from the embarrassment of having to explain his body’s impulse reaction to it. He clears his throat, and straightens himself. 

“Alright, alright,” he huffs, leisurely beginning to roll his sleeves further up onto his forearms. “Focus is a key ingredient to this equation, which is clearly something we are lacking.” 

She tries to tame the spark of mischief in her belly, deciding maybe it was best to be a better suited pupil to such esteemed talents as that of Gale of Waterdeep and hold off on any hijinks for the time being, despite how much she reveled in the sound of his laughter, so warm and genuine and real that it felt like being curled up within a thick wool blanket near a fire in the dead of winter. 

It was a much welcome deviation from the despair he held in his graceful but strong features in the dim moonlight streaming through the window of her bedroom the night before. 

Though, she couldn’t resist one last little quip just to get a rise out of him.

“Apologies. Continue, Professor.” She feigns innocence in her light eyes, rounding them and clasping her hands behind her back. 

His face is unreadable, and she almost wonders if she actually managed to upset him with her playful remarks. Only when she notices him allow his tongue to dart out and wet his bottom lip does she consider something else— something that makes her blood feel like molten lava as it surges through her veins. 

He clears his throat once again, suddenly feeling as though the room had risen several degrees in temperature, tiny beads of sweat forming on his back and neck. 

“It’s a fairly simple spell, once you get the hang of it, it’ll be as simple as a flick of the wrist,” he explains, moving to stand beside her and demonstrate the spell. “I’ll show you.” 

He steadies his posture, though the way in which he follows through with the spell seems effortless— as if he could’ve done it while in deep slumber. He whispers the cantrip softly, the Latin words dancing off of his expert tongue in a way that sends a shiver through her. 

Focus, Elara. 

A near impossible task when in his presence. 

The spectral limb hovers before them, the air around it chilly and crackling with pure weave. She steps closer to it, in awe of the strange being. Could she even call it a being? 

Gale smirks triumphantly, then commands the hand to float in a circle around her, her curious eyes following it as it flies past her vision. He halts its movements just in front of her, the palm facing her as an invitation. She lifts her hand tentatively, raising it until her palm is level with the nearly translucent one, her fingertips brushing those of the spell. 

A chill flows through her as her skin makes contact with the specter, her hand jolting backwards at the sensation, only to return for further investigation. It was strange— something so impermanent and ethereal, yet, if it had been warmer, it would have felt like a real corporeal hand. She wondered if Gale could feel anything through the conjuration— if it worked as an extension of his own hand. 

Curious. 

“Would you like to try?” He asks, breaking her from her thoughts as her eyes snap back to his. 

She nods, her gaze flitting back and forth between the wizard and the airborne hand before him. He dismisses it, the spell emitting an airy whoosh as it dissipates. 

“Now, do as I do as closely as you can, and say ‘veni et iuva me’,” He instructs as he moves to stand just beside her, their shoulders mere inches apart. “Ready?” 

With an affirmative nod, she watches him as he expertly demonstrates the spell, the weave appearing around his hands and fingertips in a violet crackling mist, as she’d seen it do before— it made sense why purple was his favorite color, now. It suited him. 

In a flash, another hand appears, just as the one before. Crystalline and nearly translucent. He gives her an encouraging look, his smile easy and eager as he awaits her attempt at the spell. 

She bites down on her bottom lip, then steadies her body and attempts to mimic Gale’s exact movements, then recites the incantation— and much to her surprise, another hand appears before them, glowing blue and bright. 

Excitement fills her to the brim and she feels as though she might explode from pure childhood fulfillment induced delight. She looks at Gale with a giddy grin, giggling with sheer glee. 

“I did it! I actually did it!” She cheers, still attempting to concentrate on the spell so it doesn’t dissolve. 

Gale claps his hands together excitedly, beaming at her with pride. “Excellent! Now, think of exactly what you want it to do, where you want it to go, how you want it to move. Stay focused. You’ve got this.” 

She feels a blush creep to her cheeks under his watchful eyes and his encouragement, but maintains her focus on the spell as she motions for it to move forward, toward one of the bookcases. She imagines the book she wants and knows exactly where it is— it was the thirteenth book from the right on the third shelf from the top. The hand effortlessly retrieves the book, then returns to her, presenting the book to her just as she’d seen it do for Gale. 

She turns to Gale, tears brimming her eyes from pure joy and amazement at her own ability to pull off the spell. It was a simple spell, they both knew that, but for her this was the greatest accomplishment she’d ever achieved thus far, outside of the small spells she’d taught herself over the years. 

Gale smiles at her warmly, his hands clasped behind his back. “Well done, Elara. You did wonderfully, especially as a novice. I’m quite impressed.” 

She tries to contain the grin threatening to turn the corners of her lips, pressing them tightly together, but unable to mask the pure elation in her eyes, tears still pooling in her vision. 

Before she can stop herself, she throws herself at the wizard, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly, burying her face into his chest. He grunts at the sudden contact, his body freezing in complete shock and his heart racing a million a second. After a moment of panic, he allows his hands to settle on her back, pulling her close to him and resting his chin on the top of her head. 

Lavender. Gods, he adores the smell of lavender. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” She whispers into the soft fabric of his shirt, her voice muffled as she presses herself further into him. 

She pulls back slightly after a moment to look up at him, her still teary eyes meeting his, and he gives her a warm but reserved smile. Her eyes soften, her brows scrunching with concern. “What’s wrong?” 

He shakes his head, feigning ignorance. “Nothing at all. I’m— ah— I’m very happy to teach you more, if you’d like.” 

She observes him for a moment, noting that something was on his mind that he wasn’t expressing. She frowns. “Gale?” 

He sighs, pulling away from her completely and turning away, his hand running over his face in distress. The large study falls into a heavy silence for a few moments before he walks toward the large window where she often perched herself as he worked. He allows his hand to trail the spot where he has found her dozens of times before, gazing out at the seaside, the wind rustling her raven tresses like a tidal wave. 

“Forgive me, I’m just feeling a bit under the weather today.” He resigns, rubbing his eyes with his finger and his thumb and then running a shaky hand through his hair. 

She swears with how silent the room was, you'd have been able to hear her heart thumping away in her chest as if it were a war drum.

Here it goes. 

“Is this… about last night?” Her voice is meek and timid when she asks, catching her bottom lip between her teeth nervously. 

Gale keeps his back to her, and she can see the muscles in his shoulders and back tense at her query, as if he was bracing for a blow at any second. 

“I… it’s nothing, Elara. I’m quite alright.” His voice is curt but still holds the ardor toward her that it always did when he spoke to her— he was warm to everyone he met, but there was a specific tone he used when he spoke to her. She had only begun to notice it in the last few days, and she feared the day that it went away.

“Gale,” She pleads, stepping forward and placing a hand on his arm. He tenses further under her delicate hand. “I’m so sorry. I owe you an explanation. I should’ve never—”

He spins to face her briskly, his expression hard, betraying the way his dark eyes twinkled as he looked at her. “You don’t owe me anything, Elara. I should have never crossed any of the lines that I’ve crossed, and my behavior is inexcusable. Deplorable. You needn’t apologize for a thing.” 

Her hand still lingers on him, now having moved to his chest after he’d shifted to face her. She stares at how small and frail her hand looked against his solid frame. She closes her eyes, honing in on the feeling of his chest against her palm as it rises and falls rapidly with his breathing. She can feel his heartbeat. She wished he could feel hers as well. She wonders if he could hear it like she feared he could. 

“Elara…” Broken. Torn. The only words capable of describing the man’s voice as he squirms under her touch, unsure whether to move away or lean into it. What he wanted and what he felt was right to do were at complete odds, as they always seemed to be as of late. 

“I never drew any lines, Gale.” 

His eyes widened. Had he heard her right? Surely, he was mishearing. Perhaps he should have his ears checked soon. Or perhaps he’d finally started to lose it. 

One too many romance tomes. 

“What did you—”

“You can’t cross a line that was never drawn to begin with.” She grips at the fabric of his shirt, finally opening her own eyes to find the utter shock in his. 

He shakes his head, his mouth opening and closing several times as his mind attempts to formulate a coherent sentence that wouldn’t just come out as complete nonsense. 

“Please,” she sighs, her mind at war within itself as she fights to find the right words to convey it all properly. If any even existed. “You must stop making assumptions about the way I feel before I have the chance to sort through them myself.” 

He looks visibly shaken, as realization hits him once her words sink in. “Are you saying—”

“I don’t know if I have the right words to explain, right now,” she admits. “What I do know is that I don’t need you to decide how I feel for me. Especially how I feel towards you.” 

How I feel for you, she wanted to say. 

The hand that had been gripping his shirt slowly begins to fall, but is swiftly caught against the hard planes of his stomach with a strong hand, holding it gently as if it may break and shatter from the slightest touch but firm so as to keep it there, at all costs. 

His eyes bore into hers, the intensity in them something that shook her to her core. She had to look away. 

“Elara,” he breathes, the sound equal parts desperate and hopeful. He adjusts her hand so that it’s flat against his stomach, and drags it to the left side of his chest, pressing her palm into it. “Do you feel it?” 

The rhythm against her palm is rapid and thunderous, the feel of his chest is solid and strong and she can hardly breathe. She nods, while attempting to remember to take air into her lungs and release it back out, then repeat. 

He leans his face down closer to hers, his voice low and husky as he whispers to her, “I hope this tells you everything you need to know.” 

Her mouth parts and she sucks in a sharp breath. She feels as though her entire body had become nothing more than a melty mass of human goo under his gaze and his touch and what he’s saying without saying it directly— is this a dream? Was she dreaming? 

How did this encounter begin with him scooping her off of the floor after her face planting into it, only to land here, with his heart against her palm and his lips so close, too close once again? 

It was like Deja vu— the way their faces drifted closer to each other as if some invisible force were pushing them together, just as they had less than twenty four hours prior. It was familiar and yet so new, an entirely new rush of energy and emotion charging them this time.

She feels one of his hands move to rest against the side of her neck, his fingers tilting her jaw upward as he dives in, his nose brushing hers and their breaths intermingling. Her eyes flutter closed as she prepares for the feeling of his lips against hers, only to feel nothing but his thumb dragging across her bottom lip. 

Her eyes shoot open, her brows furrowed in confusion and a hint of frustration. His eyes flit back and forth between hers, searching for something, anything, that would tell him to stop. “Is this what you want?” 

A sound akin to a whine or a groan leaves her lips before she can stop it. She chokes on the word yes before she can even utter it, so instead she nods desperately.

Not a second is wasted before lips are entwined and tongues are tangled— one of his hands moves to grip her waist and pull her body against his, the fullness of her chest pressing against his solid one causing him to break the kiss to suck in a sharp breath and moan slightly, the sound low and rumbling in his ribs. She catches the muffled sounds within the kiss, drinking them in and savoring them as if they were the finest wine she’d ever tasted. 

It all feels so surreal. He feels surreal. As if maybe she’d never woken up this morning and this was all some incredibly vivid dream that she never hoped to wake from. It would make sense— this wouldn’t be the first time Gale had invaded her dreams and she was certain it wouldn’t be the last either. 

The tips of his fingers dig into the plush flesh at her hips, his other hand moving to caress the back of her head and lacing his fingers through the dark tresses at the nape of her neck. Heaven. This is heaven. 

She feels him beginning to walk her backward, unaware of the direction until she feels the edge of his large mahogany desk bump into her lower back and she almost hisses in pain, but swallows it before she can. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered past his lips and his body and his heart still steadily beating against her palm. 

All too soon, he breaks away from the kiss, his eyes wild with lust but a bit of trepidation that sets her on edge. “What is it?” 

Gale’s chest heaves with concerted effort as he looks at her, his hands still at her hips and his body still pressed firmly to hers. He takes in a shaky breath as if it pained him to do so. “I just— gods, I want to do this. More than you can possibly imagine,” he starts, his words coming out in whimpered and hushed tones that set her entire body ablaze, even more so than it already had been. 

“But…” she continues for him. 

He clasps his eyes shut tight, the little lines between his brows deepening and becoming more prominent. She ignores the urge to smooth them out with her thumb. “I’d like to know more about you as a person before I get to know you as a woman, if that makes sense.” 

She’s unable to contain the chuckle that escapes her lips at his gentlemanly attempt at being coy, rather than laying it out in blunt terms as she likely would have. He softens at the sight of her smile, his shoulders relaxing and sagging in relief. 

“Are you saying you’d like to court me before taking me to bed?” She asks, amusement in her tone as she playfully pokes his nose which scrunches at her teasing. 

He catches her wrist in his hand and places a kiss to the soft skin at the heel of her palm. “Ideally, if it’s amenable to you.” 

That would be putting it incredibly mildly.

She studies his face— as she’d done a million times before— she’d seen him disheveled from sleep or stress as he studied a particularly convoluted subject, his hair mussed and messy and his lips pressed into a hard line, his eyes weary and half open. She’d thought it strange how even in what would be considered one’s worst state, he looked exquisite and refined, still with that same air of elegance and grace about him that he had at his very best when he was in his robes and confidently discussing a topic that interested him. 

But this state of disrepair was something else entirely. 

His eyes were heavily lidded but not from exhaustion, the dark umber pools of his irises swimming with desire and need. His lips were visibly swollen as they peeked out from behind the thick bushel of hair that covered his chin and upper lip, still glossy from her as evidence of their kiss. His shirt crumpled and creased where her fingers had gripped the fabric tightly in her fist. He looked completely undone, and it was her that had been his undoing. 

Gods, have mercy. It’s a wonder that she hadn’t jumped his bones at the sight alone, she thinks. 

“What? Is something wrong?” He asks, his voice breaking her from her reverie and snapping her out of the myriad of filthy thoughts that had been rushing through her lust laden mind. 

She shakes her head, partially in response to him and partially in attempts to ground herself. “Nothing else in my life has felt quite as right as it does right now.” She admits. 

It was the truth. Not much had felt right in her life up to this point— something always felt off, like there was a missing piece to the puzzle that was her life that had been missing for as long as she could remember. 

This was as close to feeling whole as she had ever felt in her life. 

Though, there were still two missing pieces. But she had accepted long ago that they would never return. A bitter truth, but a truth nonetheless. 

He looks as though she’d just told him the best news he’d ever received, elation writ large upon his face as a wide grin splays across his lips. “Well, in that case,” He pulls her into him, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her just enough to where only her toes were still touching the ground, eliciting a giggle from her that only makes his smile grow wider. “Would you possibly have the time to share a glass of wine and a lovely candlelit dinner with me this evening?” 

Her cheeks had begun to ache from smiling at this point, but she couldn’t contain it. Nor did she desire to. 

“I think I’d be amenable to that.” 

tags: @goddess-bound @mirandpeglell @celestialowlbear 🩷 (thank u guys for ur love I hope u like this chapter!!!!)

this is part three of a series - ✧ (ch 1) ✧ (ch 2)

#next chapter I am determined to have some smut I can’t take this anymore #I need to kiss the wizard with tongue I need to #gale #gale dekarios fic #gale bg3 #gale dekarios fanfic #gale x f!tav #gale x f!oc #gale x oc #bg3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 au #bg3 oc #oc: elara heartspell #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #my fics #wti

[vagabondfandoms]

Falls on Me

1) Day One: Night

Rating: Teen (For this Chapter)

Characters: Gale Dekarios/Gale of Waterdeep, F!Tav: Copper, Wyll Ravengard briefly mentioned

Warning: N/A, Pretty standard intro chapter, Gale POV, Mentions of chronic pain

---

Gale was getting ready to lie down for the night. It was a little earlier than his usual time if he was at home in Waterdeep and definitely earlier than his new travel companions.

All the others were milling around their tents, too worn out to make small talk. Or rehash the same concerns about their tadpoles with strangers by the campfire.

Likewise, Gale didn't want to spend more time by the fire. Besides the shared concerns about the tadpoles, the nasty little orb in the center of his chest was pulsating, causing uncontrollable twitches up his arms.

Gale hopes a little bit of wine (water down swill he found) and a good book (Bitch Queen Shanties, nicked off a backpack on a fishing pier) could distract himself long enough that he could fall asleep without these pesky pains keeping him up all night.

Gale also had another motive for going to bed early besides the pain in his chest. He wants to be the first one awake in the morning so he could make breakfast for everyone.

Gale needs to make sure his new travel companions saw he was worth keeping around. Because he doubts he’ll make it very far on his own, especially with a parasitic orb leeching away his magic and a mind flayer tadpole to deal with.

The wizard laments the loss of his powers. How easy it was to conjure up the most impressive of magical feats. Now he can barely produce a Fireball to defend himself.

But his new travel companions didn't need to know any of that. Best to make himself useful even if it's to keep some appetites satiated.

Just as Gale was going to curl up on his bedroll, already missing his bed full of blankets and the company of his furry friend, Tara. He hears somebody approaching, from the opposite side away from the Blade of the Frontiers tent,

“Wyll was his name.” Gale recalls. “A nice lad but maybe a little too idealistic.”

As the person rounds the corner, Gale notices the flash of auburn hair before registering the face of his traveling monk companion, “Copper.” his mind finally supplying the name to the face. Instead of her monastic robes, she was dressed in a comfy pair of slacks and a tie-up shirt. Her hair was down and not so severely tied back like the braid she seemed to favor during the day.

"Hey." Copper says, stopping short of invading Gale's personal space, which he considers a couple of feet in front of his tent. "I was just checking in, you seemed awfully tense earlier."

If Gale wasn't so well practiced in covering up his emotions, he might have blushed from embarrassment from his earlier faux pas. He was feeling particularly melancholic next to the fire that he might have overshared his thoughts with the young monk (well, young for a monk this woman appears around his age).

But he simply brushes the concern aside, blaming his thoughts on the tadpole squirming around in his brain instead of the aching monster in his chest.

A flicker of understanding appears on the woman's face. Everybody was concerned about the tadpole and ceramorphosis so it made an easy excuse.

Letting the topic pass, Copper shifts her weight gracefully from one foot to the other as if she were debating on leaving. Gale was half hoping she would as another nasty spasm made his hand jump and he had to clench his fist to stop it from being noticeable.

"Can you tell me a little more about yourself?" Copper finally decides to ask.

Slight disappointment fills Gale, but he pushes it down and puts on a smile. "Ahh, let's see. I hail from Waterdeep, the City of Splendors. I am a Wizard with a considerable amount of acclaim and a scholar of exceptional accomplishments.” Gale easily rattles off.

Copper chuckles a little. "You definitely sound like somebody from the North Ward."

"Ahh, so you have spent some time in Waterdeep?" Gale perks up, feeling a little more invested in the conversation than he did a minute ago.

"I might have traveled through from time to time." Copper says just as evasively as Gale did with his answers. But he didn’t mind. Waterdeep was one of his favorite things to talk about.

"Then you should know that I reside in the Castle Ward where Black Staff Academy is located.” Gale waggles his finger at her like she is one of his students who answered a question wrong. “Hence, my considerable abilities in the arcane arts."

Gale places a hand on his chest, faintly feeling the orb pulse beneath his fingers as he takes a grand bow.

Copper rolls her eyes, but there's enough amusement behind them that Gale doesn't take offense. Her gentle smile also helps deflect any ire, he thinks. “How easy it must be to be a monk, with no worldly concerns besides the mind-flayer tadpoles currently residing in our skulls.”

"So, besides living in a little less wealthy but still prestigious district and being a wizard with much acclaim. Can you tell me anything else about yourself? What do you like to do to fill your nights such as this?” Copper asks, spreading out her hands in a grand gesture.

Gale was unsure if she was teasing or not. To be safe, he chose another stock answer. “Well, I have a cat, a library, and a weakness for a good glass of wine. And if the mood takes me, I'm known to try my hand at poetry.”

"I can see you have found two of those three things." Copper motions towards the worn-out copy of Bitch Queen Shanties and the half-filled bottle of water, pretending to be wine that laid haphazardly by Gale's pillow.

"Ahh, you mustn't look down on The Bitch Queen," Gale playfully tuts, wagging his finger yet again. "She's trying her best in these trying times, sinking ships and all that. Unlike this horrible excuse of a wine. I've drunk from wells with more of a kick.”

Gale's comment earns him a real laugh from the young monk that brought a smile to his own face.

"Well, I should let you go.” Copper says, clearly cheeky this time. “I don't want to keep you away from such an engrossing story."

Watching the monk walk away, Gale feels a flicker of pride and his ego swell a little. He had very few things to be proud of these days but landing a small joke will have to do.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 fanfiction #gale x tav #f!tav #oc: copper #gale pov

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Wip]

|| For a whimsical version with more paprika, you can follow me on Twitter/X clicking !HERE! or looking there for @honey_tongued_ if the link isn't working. ||

Listen, this man says shit like "I'm not ready to be a father" and then "mama told be to be a good host" when talking about shit he has inside his body, this means he is not father. He is a mother. And I'm up the challenge.

#gale bg3 #bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 fanart #bg3 gale #baldur's gate 3 gale #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale x tav #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale x oc #gale x female tav #gale x f!tav #gale dadkarios #gale dekarios bg3 #bg3 gale dekarios #tav #tav baldur's gate #female tav #tav bg3 #tav x gale #bg3 tav x gale #sometimes a man is a mother

[mythicpal]

:>

#they broke up after this #sorry not sorry but astarion #whomst broke up with my tav right as we stepped into act 3 #f in the chat #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #durge #dark urge #male tav #sorcerer #tav #dnd sorcerer #my tav #bg3 oc #oc: eredin #d&d #gale of waterdeep #bg3 spoilers #gale x tav #tav x gale #d&d sorcerer #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale

[fantasyfictionfables]

| Gale & Athena with their firstborn |

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #romance #faerun #dnd #rpg #video game #fandom #fanart #drawing #painting #artists on tumblr #galemance #rizzard of waterdeep #athena dekarios #gale x oc #gale x tav #gale x female tav #gale x f!tav #gale dad #bg3 art #chosen of mystra #archmage #chosen of lathander #priestess of lathander #waterdeep #wizard #paladin

[vixstarria]

My Fanfiction Master List

All fics can also be found on my AO3.

The following have accidentally turned into a series, although each can be read as a standalone.

Mostly Astarion x female Tav / reader, although other characters do make appearances.

Most are shameless reader self-insert, too.

To summarise: a take on Astarion's relationship progression with a hectic, unhinged bardlock Tav. Mostly humour and banter, fluff with light angst. And then there's the smut.

Ongoing series

Bloodbang Chronicles - post-game continuation of my bardlock series (see below), Astarion x f!OC - Astarion and Asmodea are running a cabaret. Shit goes down, hilarity ensues. The horrors persist, but so do they.

Masterlist | chapter 1 of 5 (so far) - start here

One-shot series:

Fluff

In chronological order, as they would take place in-game:

Where my nice, simple plan fell apart - scenes of Astarion x Tav relationship progression in Act 1 generally

Another Gift - Tav tries to comfort or distract a brooding Astarion, reflections on vampirism / Astarion's past

Mark me as yours (Astarion POV) - takes place the morning after 'Missionary with the lights off' (filed below under smut) - a day of pining in camp in the life of Astarion

Down by the river (alternating POV) - 18+, takes place immediately after 'Mark me as yours' - Astarion and Tav spend a night by the river, away from camp

Something real (Astarion POV) - An evening in camp, Astarion and Tav are finally alone

Are you mine? (Astaion POV) - just flirty pillow talk and comfort

Gentle Warding Bond - short & sweet, Astarion finds the "true love's caress" and "true love's embrace" rings in the Shadow-Cursed lands and makes a decision

Admit that you love me - Act 2, Gale fucks around and finds out, Lae'zel becomes poetic and Astarion most certainly does not tell you that he loves you

Confession (Astarion POV) - title self-explanatory, love confession, tooth-rotting sweetness

The Morning After - short fic, follow-up to 'Confession', morning in camp - banter, humour, etc

Intimacy - Astarion's struggle with sex and intimacy, includes some fairly softcore smut

Communication - It has been nice, but it's time Tav and Astarion actually figured out what it is they're doing and what comes next [Most recently posted oneshot]

A night at the inn (part 1) - the gang gets a chance to let loose for a while. Humour, banter, and a lead-up to something smutty to come [Parts 2 & 3 under smut]

Smut

Also part of series.

Missionary with the lights off - Uh. Some really mindblowing sex here. No, really. Porn with plot, fluff to smut

Seeing stars - Astarion is jealous. What's more, he's eager to prove that no one could possibly compete with him.

A remedy for sleeplessness - porn no plot, Tav can't sleep and Astarion takes matters into his own hands

What do you want to do with it? - porn no plot, dirty talk, 'use your words', oral sex (male receiving) (kinda)

A night at the inn (part 2) - porn, Astarion x Halsin x F!Tav/Reader, dirty talk, oral sex, PIV and more

A night at the inn (part 3) - continuation of porn, Astarion x Halsin x F!Tav/Reader, vampire bites as an aphrodisiac edition

The Sheath of Frontiers - Wyll's never been with a man. Astarion and Tav decide this must be rectified. (and yes that was an anal pun)

Challenges, shorts and misc

'Erotic Misadventures' - my entry for the BG3 April Foolishness challenge: 'write something spicy that uses the worst possible terms for body parts, sex acts'. Reader beware.

Untitled - Ask reply HC, Astarion accidentally attacks Tav during a nightmare

A cut - Tav accidentally cuts themselves, and Astarion scampers over like a cat to a can of tuna

Untitled - Ask reply, bonus scene following Seeing Stars - jealous giddy Astarion enacts revenge on Wyll after his failed awkward dance seduction attempt

'Gentle Warding Bond' should rightfully be here also, but it's too relevant to the 'plot' if you can call it that

My OC bard (bardlock) headcanon

(the lady in all the above fics)

OC Questionnaire

OC more in-depth questionnaire

Another 'get to know your Tav' post

OC songs and outfits

Why my Tav fell for Astarion

Why Astarion fell for my Tav

Going strong and planning to do more.

P.S. I am a whore for comments, and nothing sparks joy and feeds further inspiration quite like a simple "HHHNNNNNG ASFKJAGJLKSJF" in comments or reblog tags.

P.P.S Feel free to leave a comment if you'd like to be added to a taglist. :) And if so, do let me know if there are any categories you would prefer to be excluded from.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #astarion #astarion fanfiction #pinned post #I give you my soul #You can give me your HHHNNNNNG ASFKJAGJLKSJF