#AND I WILL FIGHT ANYONE TO THE DEATH OVER GALE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leiswxrld · 7 months

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𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 (𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 ❥)

pairings: ellie!williams x fem!reader

sypnosis: it’s Valentine’s Day, a special day to spend with your loved ones right but what if a slasher is going around killing only once a year on this special day.

warnings: mdni 18+, smut, college slasher, anal fingering (r receiving), strap usage (r receiving), top ellie and bottom reader, face riding (r receiving), reader giving ellie a lap dance, weed and drugs, praises + degradation (mama, slut, baby, whore), ellie calls her strap her dick, strawberry vape supremacy, graphic content, college au

a/n: happy valentines my lovelies, I know this is a day late but I had to touch up a few things before I could post this and I’ve also been so busy yesterday so it had to wait till I got home, not proof read so there might be a few mistakes, low-key inspired by scream.

credits: @magicalboything @cafekitsune for line dividers ❥

'Good evening folks, this is Heather Gale reporting live from channel 5 with tonight’s news, it's that time of year where couples, friends and family around the world express their love and affection towards their loved ones but one striking question has our community in constant fear and paranoia, will the valentines day killer strike again ?'

'Today marks the death of late cheerleader captain Melissa brown who was found brutally stabbed over 20 times in the chest and stomach in her college dorm room a red rose left on her chest, police say she was returning from a party when she was viciously attacked by the killer, friends and family say she was a bright student, kind friend and positive role model for those who admired her, the community are desperately fighting to get Melissas killer found and behind bars.'

'Police ask that if you have any leads or tips that could potentially catch the Valentines Killer, they urge you to either report it to the police station or to anonymously send in your information, this is Heather Gale on channel 5 and I hope you all stay safe and well this Valentines.'

- -

"Really a valentines party" you reply in disbelief at the instagram post one of the boys from the football team had posted, you couldn't believe they were throwing a party when you were all advised not to throw any especially when the valentines killer could strike again.

"Yeah sick right I was thinking of going" your friend amarie says, scrolling onto the post and liking the picture. you throw her a dirty look, "amarie you know the college advised us not to attend any parties especially after what happened to heather she was killed straight after the party we went to last year" it felt so surreal when you found out she had been stabbed to death just after returning from the college party you attended that year, you remember being in your room when it came up on the news that starville's captain cheerleader was found dead.

"cmon y/n don't be such a whore, we'll all be together and we live in the same dorm room besides I'm pretty sure the killer only kills cheerleaders" she replies and you roll your eyes, "it's not just cheerleaders amarie it's anyone who goes to this fucking college, we're all at risk and were at a higher risk if we attend that stupid party"

amarie turns off her phone paying all her attention towards you, "think about it when was the last time you actually went to a party and got laid no offence but bitch I feel depressed just looking at you"

you cross your arms, "and what the fuck is that supposed to mean"

"it means I feel like I'm living with a christian.. your sex life is drier than a fucking desert" she remarks and you scoff, really.

"difference christians wait till marriage... reminder I have already lost my virginity" you remind her, the last time you really had sex was with a boy you hooked u with a few weeks back but you really didn't get the time to find someone and the only thing keeping you satisfied was your vibrator which was in dire need of some batteries.

"more of a reason for you to come to this party and get laid come on think about it, so many of the girls in our dorm are going we can't miss out on this opportunity besides I hear charlies going to be there" she replies, smiling to herself. Charlie was the star quarterback on the football team and one of the many boys she was frequently hooking up when she got the chance too.

"and that has something to do with me how" you reply and she shrugs her shoulders, "it means that there might be a chance you might meet someone you actually like" she replies, you ponder for a second..it could be a chance to finally hook up with someone.

"fine but I’m only going because I’m getting sick of using my vibrator plus there will be free drinks" you finally decide and she throws you a hella side eye, "girl tmi…” she says and you laugh, “now I need to go freshen up" she says, doing a little victory dance while looking at herself through her phone camera.

it was a good thing that the boys house was a 15 minute drive from your college building which meant you only spent around 5 dollars each for an Uber to get there. the house was the hotspot for most of the college parties that were thrown, a big estate with a pool and 3 floors meaning you could fit over a hundred people inside, "this thong is digging into my ass it feels like I've got carpet burn" amarie says, picking at the bright pink thong underneath her pink skirt.

You both choose to go all out, you in a red boob top and black skirt whilst amarie was wearing a pink corset top with a pink skirt. "I told you to choose the black one at the shop" you remark and she smacks her lips, "it wasn't going to match the cute pink corset top and skirt I've got so I guess I'm just going to have to suck it up" she replies, applying a thin layer of lip gloss on.

You both walk into the house, people stood near the entrance either drinking or getting smoking. you could see the inside of the house bathed in colourful lights, music blaring out into the cold midnight air.

Your strawberry flavoured vape clutched in your right hand as the stress began to creep in, your couldn't imagine that the valentine's killer could possibly strike again this year but the idea of it scared you shitless. You bring the vape to your lips inhaling the vapour as you taste the strawberry fumes enter your lungs, "I didn't expect for the party to be this fucking packed" you admit as amarie nods her head, "yeah seems like the whole campus" she pauses, "and a few other people from nearby attended"

you make it inside, pushing past your way through the sea of people making your way towards the kitchen, "You guys actually made it" Stacy another one of your friends says, going to hug you, "I mean I was expecting amarie but y/n that's a first" you give her a face that screams 'girl really' and she laughs, "no hard feelings babe but I never see your ass outside of your room except if you have class"

"none taken" you reply, manoeuvring around her so you could pour yourself a drink. you decide to do a classic vodka cranberry, basic but could easily get you drunk. "y/n pour some vodka in my cup" amarie says, holding the red solo cup towards you. you grab the bottle, pouring it until it hit the middle line, "girl quit playing pour me some more"

"You want to drink straight vodka"

"I'm trying to get shitfaced not drunk" she replies as if she was pointing out the obvious, you pour some more until it was nearly full. You down the vodka cranberry, putting down the bottle of vodka as you make your way onto the dance floor. the music blared through the speakers as you and your friends danced in the living room, grinding against amarie as she used her free hand to smack your ass.

You felt the unwanted and lustful eyes from every boy in room, ignoring them as you continued to grind against her taking a swig of your drink. Your eyes wandered for a second until they landed on a girl just poarched up against the banister of the stairs, talking to boy you recognised to be Charlie.

You'd fancied girls in the past but never took it further than just straight crushing but she was different, you don't think you'd ever seen her before on campus otherwise you wouldn't forget such a beautiful face. The mysterious brunette was dressed in a white wife beater, blue baggy jeans with a pair of retro red jordan's, the girl takes her eyes off of Charlie to look at you for a second, licking her lips before looking you up and down, not missing the long stare on your half exposed ass.

She had a blunt in her hand, taking a few drags from it before taking her attention off of you. You stop grinding and turn around to face amarie who's looking at your confused, "bitch why did you stop"

"who's that girl over there" you say discreetly pointing in direction of the staircase, "what girl" she replies, squinting her eyes to get a better look.

"that one with the tattoos going all up her arms" she looks once again before grinning, "ohhh that girl"

"that's ellie I only know her cause she normally sells weed to Charlie when we’re together I forgot how fucking fine she was" she adds taking a swig of her vodka, "shit I need another drink I'll be back"

amarie makes her way to the kitchen leaving you with a few of your other friends who were busy dancing on each other, thinking about it now you needed another drink.

You noticed that Ellie had moved to the couch some girl chatting her up as she seemed to not be listening, blunt in hand. she notices you right away, eyes lowered a fraction and manspreading with one leg propped up on the couch. a surge of confidence ran through you as you decide to go sit yourself next to her, she licks her lips turning to face you.

"why'd you stop dancing" she starts, offering the blunt to you as you happily accept it. you laugh, "what did you like my dancing" you reply, taking a drag before handing it back to her.

"I mean I liked what I was seeing" she admits boldly, making you shuffle nervously under her intimidating gaze, "if you'd like I could give you a lap dance" you offer and she raises a brow.

"you want to give someone you just met a lap dance huh" yes and no but this was the alcohol talking.

"yeah if you want I know a few things" you state and she thinks about it for a sec before standing up, "ok follow me doll" you blush at the nickname, taking ellies hand as she leads you upstairs, you look at amarie who's still in the kitchen pressed against the counter as she made out with Charlie, her hands wrapped around his neck as his were around her waist, typical amarie.

you passed so many people, a group of people doing drugs on the floor and the others doing dares on eachother on the other side of the room. her grip on your hand tightened, trying to avoid stepping on the people sat on the stairs to prevent yourself falling. there were many occupied rooms passing through all of them till you found a vacant one, ellie allowing you to go in first closing the door behind you.

the rooms quite big, a double bed with a lamp on each side with little side tables and a vanity behind you with picture frames on top, "you nervous" she asks almost taunting, sitting on the edge of the bed. the new found confidence from earlier was replaced with anxiety as it began to seep in, you've only jokingly given your friend a lap dance but that was only because you were dared to do it but that was out of the question now since you were sobering up and doing it for real.

"yeah" you admit and she chuckles, "don't worry I won't judge beside who's going to complain when they've got a pretty girl grinding on their lap" she grins and you roll your eyes with a smile as you remove your shoes.

the tension in the room was thick, Ellie's hands pressed against the sheets, the overbearing loud music coming from downstairs giving you a headache and the sounds of moans emitting from the other side of the walls, "remember no touching me this is just a dance" you emphasise, going to straddle her lap.

"I got you" she says, keeping her hands to her sides. you start by whining your hips against her lap, hands slowly brushing over her thighs feeling her tense up beneath you. you twisted around, moving to rhythm of the music each movement against her lap making you feel the unsuspected bulge tucked underneath her jeans.

she knows you felt it, fighting the urge to just scrap the lap dance and touch you, the friction against her strap rubbing up against her aching clit, pussy wet just watching you. she instinctively swallowed as your grinding increased, practically fucking her with clothes on, your red laced panties soaked in your own arousal, biting back the urge to moan.

Ellie mumbles in cohesively, her voice low and hoarse as you lift up off of her, seductively moving your hips towards the floor whilst your skirt rode up your ass, exposing the red lace that sat perfectly around your waist. you turn back around, the dim light in the room showing Ellie's eyes that had now darken in colour, her fists locked up tight that they turned red.

You kiss your way up her clothed body, seating yourself back onto her lap as you continued till you reached her neck, leaving love bites all over until you reached her cherry red lips, hovering over them before teasingly backing away, "I know you feel it.... pull it out" her voice low, looking up at you.

"feel what" you innocently tease, gasping when she grips onto your hips, "h-hey I said no touching"

"don't act smart with me...pull.it.out" she tells you and you give her a hesitant look, "what you never seen a dick before"

"no dumbass I have but I've just never done it with a girl" you shamefully admit and she just laughs, "I guess I'll be your first" her hands wrap around your back so that your laying on top of her and gently wraps her hand around the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss.

her lips were addicting, not like the many boys you've hooked up with who just kissed for the sake of it but she took her time with you, it's almost like having sex but with her mouth allowing her to slip her tongue into your mouth as you moan, your hand going under her top rubbing up and down her stomach.

she pulls away, helping you remove her belt, quickly pulling her jeans down showing the very prominent bulge through her black calvin klein boxers "before you sit on it, I want you to fuck my face with your pussy" your face heats up at her words, embarrassment flooding through your body leaving your clit throbbing.

"you want me sit on your face" you ask almost astonished, "yes is that a problem?" she questions, "well no-

"then sit this pussy on my fucking face" she interrupts and you quickly follow, removing your black skirt and red lace before throwing them into a random corner of the room. you slowly, hover your cunt over her face scared that you might accidentally suffocate her.

she slaps your ass, "lower yourself down more" she growls, gripping your legs and pulling you onto her mouth. you slowly rock your hips against her mouth, ellie pressing her tongue against your clit, flicking her tongue up and down your vulva making your legs tremble, a whimper leaving your glossed lips.

Ellie’s sucking and biting, her nails digging into the fat of your thighs, your juices mixing in with her saliva that dripped down her chin. Your legs shake and ellie gets more faster, your head fuzzy with the overwhelming pleasure you were receiving, you felt like screaming covering your mouth with your hand, muffling your moans.

You never imagined you'd be getting head by girl at a college party whilst there were hundreds of people downstairs, the thought of it made you even wetter and you were fucking thankful you decided to come.

you finally come with a silent scream, gripping onto the headboard as she continued to go down on you until she was done, adding onto the best fucking head that you had gotten in ages. she taps your thigh, allowing you to raise up off of her face, your face heating up at ellie's wet face.

"you taste so good mama" she says, licking her lips and sitting up on the bed. she cracks her neck, giving you a kiss allowing you to taste yourself. "but I'm not done with you" she says, slapping your inner thigh.

"I want you to get on your knees and suck this dick baby" she moves her self to the edge of the bed, giving you room to get on your knees. you follow, getting in between her legs, she opens your mouth with her fingers and slips them inside until they were coated in your saliva before using them as lubricant to stroke herself, tapping the tip against your wet lips.

"say ahh..." you slightly open your mouth allowing her to slip her dick into your mouth, it's been a while since you've last given head, slowly bobbing your head up and down her length, she's just watching you using her fingers to tilt your head up so that you could make eye contact with her, her hands grip onto the back of your messy hair, helping you to go down on her faster your eyes filling up with tears, trying to open up your throat more so that you wouldn't gag.

"fuck..." she whispers, fumbling with something on the bed before pulling out her phone. your pace doesn't falter, watching as she presses the record button, the flash brightening up the dim room. you moan, trying so hard not to choke as you sloppily bob your head up and down faster, eye contact not ceasing.

you felt ashamed yet turned on at the same time at being recorded, ellie stroking your hair back to prevent it from falling into your face. your surprised you had been going on for this long, feeling the evident tiredness in your jaw, drool seeping from your mouth and lubricating her dick. she stops you, slowly pushing you off her, allowing you to catch your breath.

"I love watching you suck my dick baby but I wanna see how well you can take it" she admits, camera still recording. "get on all fours mama" she says standing up as you get up from your knees. she waits for you to get on all fours, arching your back as she climbs onto the bed behind you phone in hand, positioning herself.

she spreads your ass, spitting onto your gaping hole allowing it to drip down over as she uses her thumb to rub it in before prodding her tip against your glistening cunt, slowing pushing herself into you. you gasp, your mouth widening into an 'o', the feeling of her dick stretching you out, but before she could even move there's a sudden knock on the door.

"Room is occupied" Ellie yells, awaiting for the person behind the door to move along but the person on the other side doesn't go, knocking once again, "I said the room is occupied asshole go and fuck some place else" the person on the other side get's the message, walking away from the door.

"some fucking people" ellie whispers to you which makes you giggle. she starts to rock her hips into you, putting the palm of her hand against your back helping you to fuck back onto her. she fucked into you so lovingly but so fucking rough, hitting your g-spot that had you gasping and cursing, biting on your lip and your hand going to grip onto the sheets, "shit"

Ellie doesn't stop recording, one hand gripping onto your hips whilst thrusting into you, cursing at the way your ass moved against her hips. you turn around to look at her, her hair falling into her face as ellie looked back at you. she looked so fucking sexy in just her wife beater, showcasing all the different tattoos she had to offer... you don't think you've ever been this fucking whipped for someone with the way she had you acting.

"you should see how fucking perfect you look on camera...should turn your slutty ass into a fucking pornstar shit" you moan in response to her words, fucking yourself back onto her. your pants get louder, the squelching noises from your gushing cunt getting louder every time ellie pulled back, she slaps your ass watching how it jiggled under the camera light. "fuck.....elsss"

your cheeks were flushed and your forehead was lined with sweat, feeling ellie get deeper every time she pulled you back onto her, receiving cute and desperate moans from your lips as your tits bounce with every rough drag of her hips.

You practically trying to pull away, begging ellie to let you come as she pounded you into the bed, her thumb pressing against your labia, rubbing against it.

You gasp again, feeling her finger slowly slip into your exposed hole the uncomfortable feeling making you clench around her fingers, she curls her fingers almost doing a ‘come here’ motion, whispering for you to relax so that it wouldn’t feel as painful, she gradually builds her speed making you feel lightheaded, this new fucking feeling making you dizzy.

"so fucking tight" she fists her fingers into you, the rings around your walls clenching around her skinny fingers whilst pounding into you as your eyes rolled shut.

You start to spasm around her strap before you know it your creaming around her dick, your climax riding out as she continued to milk you, her pace never faltering, “f-fuck stop els it’s too much”

“be a good little whore and cum for me again” that alone sends you over the edge and your cumming again, not believing you could even come more than twice as she lazily gives you a few more thrusts before pulling out her dick coated in your sweet juices, leaving you sprawled out on the bed, allowing you to catch your breath.

you could hear your heart beating out of your ears, laying there slumped on the bed before ellie stopped the recording. you remain motionless, trying to catch your breath as ellie helped you up from the bed. You both messily get dressed in silence, your back turned as you applied your strawberry lipgloss that had smeared off before a notification on ellie's phone catches her attention, "I-uh gotta go- something I've got to take care off, I guess I’ll see you around y/n" she says, quickly buckling up her belt and stepping into her shoes.

she gives you one last kiss on the lips, savouring the sweet taste from your scented lipgloss before disappearing into the hallway. you look for the red lace underwear that you had thrown into the corner of the room earlier but it was nowhere to be found, you curse yourself deciding to wrap a jumper you found in the closet around your waist to prevent flashing anyone, before swiftly leaving the room.

you make your way downstairs, people screaming and left in a state of disarray , how did you not hear this before……did you miss something ?

a frantic amarie rushes to you, "where were you we were looking for you" she yells, bringing you into a death-crushing hug leaving you confused. "I-i was in the bathroom why what happened" you inquire, pulling away.

"the killer striked again, charlies dead"

#ellie williams x female reader #valentines day #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie the last of us #lesbian smut #lesbian #tlou2 #ellie x reader #horror au #ellie tlou #ellie williams #black reader #smut #leiswxrld #leiscoven

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tsaritza-mika · 6 months

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Sorry not Sorry guys...

I respect all your inter-companion romance ships, and I hope they bring you joy and endless inspiration, but I have a primal need for something different. I don't need my companions dating each other.

I need them to be the most dysfunctional yet supportive found family they can be

I need Karlach to be literal 'Mama K' and grab Shadowheart and Lae'zel by the scruff and put them on coat hangers, telling them that if they can't say anything nice, then shut the fuck up for five minutes and if they can do that, then she'll come and let them down

I need Astarion and Gale to get into such a spat that all dignity and posh goes out the fucking window, and they devolve into two grown-ass men having a 13-year-old style slap fight while calling each other the harshest of obscenities, but if anyone from the outside tries calling either of them less than fabulous, they join forces and fuck them up

I need Wyll, Shadowheart, and Lae'zel to do each other's hair while discussing all the ways they've taken down various opponents and monsters, and how they would have done things better

I need Jaheira just smacking everyone upside the head whenever they say or do something stupid. Because gods dammit why is she always the only one who can see trouble from a hundred miles away, only to have her perception check fail and stumble right into a trap Halsin had set up to catch food for dinner

I need Astarion to embroider offensive cross stitch into every other companion's tents when he's left behind at camp, for no other reason than he's feeling salty that day

I need Halsin to wildshape into a bear just so he can surprise Karlach with an actual bear and Clive having a tea party with flower crowns and drawings of the horrible ways Gortash will be killed

I need Shadowheart being a petty bitch and letting anyone who was being especially stupid in a fight get a little too close to death as punishment before finally healing them. Because that's just what healers do

I need Gale pranking people with his spells. Use mage hand to yank the rug out from under Lae'zel after she insisted that he was too squishy to fight properly. Casting 'create water' over Shadowheart to ruin her makeup in retaliation for saying last night's stew was a bit bland. Use Telekinesis to fling Astarion off in some random direction because dammit Gale just woke up, and the man needs his coffee before he can properly deal with all of that first thing in the damn morning

I need Lae'zel to take pillow fights just a little too seriously

I need Wyll begging Halsin and Jaheira if they can wildshape into a bear and a shark just so he can ride both of them through the Chionthar while recklessly casting Fireball and Lightning Bolt at the sky, because just think of how cool he would look doing it

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honeybeebard · 8 months

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Other Forms of Stimulation (Gale x Reader)

Summary// After a fight in the Shadowlands that very nearly takes your life, you realize just what Gale meant when he mentioned that book about brushes with death.

(I am so down bad for this wizard and I had to write this. It has been a while since I’ve written so I hope you all like it!! I’d love to write more if anyone is interested but for now, enjoy this :)! Also, while this is in second person, the name used for you is Tav!)

WARNINGS: 18+, smut, talks of almost dying

As your sword cuts across the last of the shadow entities you stumble to the ground, your knees aching as you take in a deep breath. The only sound you can hear is your heartbeat as it thrums in your ears, your mind racing to catch up with what had just happened.

It had been an ambush that, thanks to the curse, you couldn’t have even perceived coming. You and your friends were already weak after the fight with the cursed drider and his group of cultists so the last thing you were prepared for was something like this on your way back to camp.

However, your group had made you proud as they battled the shadows fiercely. Karlach and her great axe, Gale and his magic, and even Astarion was kicking misty ass with his longbow. It would have been over within minutes if you had been more on guard, if you had realized just how far you had gotten from your friends while fighting.

A cold chill, like a kiss of death, had raced up your spine as you felt one of the wicked creatures wrap its hand around your ankle, knocking you prone and dragging you into the darkness. The scream you had let out could’ve woken the dead as you dug your nails into the rocky earth, scrambling for anything to hold onto.

Darkness wrapped around you within seconds, your mind screaming in pain as you felt this dark energy seep into your lungs and heart. It only lasted seconds at most before Gale had saved you, a gigantic fireball lighting up the sky, but to you, it felt like hours.

The warm hand that had pulled you back to the light was your lifeline, your words dying in your throat as you looked up at Gale who was surveying you for any damages. He had been so focused that he forgot about the fight, forgot about everything that wasn’t you, but you saw one of the wretched creatures coming towards him with its claws raised.

That was when you had leaped forward, using the last of your adrenaline rush to throw Gale back behind you and cleave the beast in two. It had let out an inhumane screech, turning into a vestige before your eyes.

Now, as reality comes back to you, so does the realization of just how close to death you had been. You turn to examine the damage, seeing your companions in various stages of exhaustion. Astarion was leaning on Karlach who was leaning on her axe, both of them complaining about wanting to go to bed which made you smile. When you turned to look at Gale you saw him watching you with a mixture of awe and concern, strands of hair stuck to his forehead.

Your eyes locked together, the tension from the past few weeks of adventuring and the fight coming to a head as you saw him move his gaze from your face to the rest of your body.

It could have been an innocent survey to see if you were hurt but when you saw the color of his cheeks and the way he licked his lips you knew it was something much more darker. Lustful, even. “I, um, once read a book that explained in some detail the effect the brush of danger has on one’s desires for uh…other forms of stimulation. Have you ever read anything on that subject?��

Gale’s earlier flirtation came to the forefront of your mind as the world seemed to close in on the two of you. While you were absorbed in your thoughts, Karlach and Astarion seemed to catch on to what was about to happen. Or, Astarion did at least.

“Come now Karlach, camp’s just up ahead and I don’t want to be here to hear their pathetic humping in the bushes.” The vampire snarked, his smirk growing when you sent him a warning glare. Karlach gave you and the wizard her own knowing smile, wiggling her eyebrows, before dragging Astarion away towards the nearby campfire.

“I, um, want to thank you for-” Gale began, stepping closer to you only to grunt in surprise when you all but grabbed him by the collar and went to a nearby tree, thankful for the brazier that was lit close by. “What are you doing?!”

“Thanking you for saving my life…and showing you how much I know about that book you mentioned earlier,” You smiled, pressing him up against the bark before pulling back slightly. “That is, if you want me to. I thought you were flirting earlier but if you were just going on another rant I am so sorry-”

He silenced you with a heated kiss, his soft hands coming up to cup your face gently as he spun the two of you around so that now your back was against the tree. “Hush now,” Gale murmured, his eyes dark as he slipped a hand up your blouse. “You’re talking too much.”

“That’s rich coming from you-ah!” You gasped, back arching as deft fingers went under your bra to palm at your nipples. It felt incredible. “Gods, Gale, more please.”

Gale hummed to himself, helping you rid yourself of your top and maneuvering your pants to sit around your ankles. It had been years since he had taken a mortal lover but he had been head over heels for you for a while. He intended to prove himself worthy to you. Worthy of saving you.

Worthy of you.

You pulled him from his thoughts with another kiss, this one rougher than the last. The adrenaline seemed to be wearing off but somehow the desire was only increasing. He groaned low in his throat when your tongue brushed against his, tasting the uniqueness of you before he pried himself away. A whine grew in your chest but it was cut off when you saw him sink to his knees, his large hands resting on either of your thighs.

“Gale, I…” You trailed off as you watched him through your lashes. “What are you doing?” His gaze was intense as he tugged your pants the rest of the way down along with your underwear, settling himself between your legs as his lips turned up in a wicked smirk.

“Thanking you for saving my life.” He echoed your earlier statement, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement before he trailed a single finger down your sex. You let out a huff of air when he brushed your clit, blushing as he felt just how slick you were as he whispered, “By the weave, Tav, you’re dripping.”

A whine builds in your throat once more as he continues his ministrations. He gently dips two fingers into your aching cunt, his own groan covering another one of your cries from just how tightly you grip his fingers. You can’t stop from bucking your hips forward towards him, silently begging him for more stimulation.

“Such impatience.” He chides playfully though you can see how ragged his breathing has gotten.

“Perhaps you should hurry up then, wizard.” You say through clenched teeth, your eyes fluttering close as he bristles at your challenge and suddenly buries himself between your legs, licking a long stripe up your pussy. It was divine. “Fuck, yes!”

Gale’s tongue sets a pace that immediately has your thighs shaking, your hands flying into his chestnut hair as he shows you just how talented his tongue can be outside of spellcasting. You had lovers in the past who would taste you, some hesitant and some enthusiastic, but none of them even came close to the man beneath you.

His nose bumps against your clit with each fervent lick, savoring the taste like he was a man starving. You raise one of your hands over your head, the other still fists in Gale’s hair, and start to roll your hips in time with his tongue. He moans into your cunt, his fingers digging into your thighs until you are they are going to leave bruises.

“Please, Gale, gods it feels so good,” You whimper, voice an octave higher as he finally seals his lips around your clit and sucks. “Ah!”

“That’s it, love, take what you need.” He growls, worshipping your pretty pussy as one of his hands rustles under his clothes to rub against his aching cock. It was already hard and leaking, a stain on the front of his pants that he was sure he would be embarrassed about later.

Your ears perk up at the schlik sound, your head dropping to watch as he fisted himself while eating you out. His eyes found yours, watching you in adoration, which made your hips increase in desperation. At some point you had hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, grinding deeper into his face to the point you were afraid you would smother him.

Not that you think he would mind that.

A fire starts to brew in your stomach as he holds your gaze, his own hips rutting up in a desperate attempt to find release. You can feel yourself on the edge as he starts flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue, the sounds positively sinful. And just as you find yourself tipping over into the pleasurable abyss of Gale’s tongue, your defenses come down and your tadpole greedily reaches out to his.

He flinches at first, his pace stuttering as he sees himself through your eyes. The desperate look in his eyes, the way the entire bottom half of his face is covered in your arousal as he fucks himself needily into his hand. Gale could practically feel your pleasure through the link and it spurs on his own orgasm.

You feel your voice grow hoarse from your screams of pleasure, not caring that the camp could hear as Gale continued to take everything you gave him. For a moment you swore you could see the orb in his chest pulse with untamed magic, could feel an electric current pulse through your veins right before he pulled away with a gasp of air.

Gale smiles up at you as you sag into the tree. He takes in your disheveled appearance, from your hair to your slick-covered thighs, and ingrains the vision into his memory. You have never looked more beautiful.

“I should,” You begin, chuckling when it takes you a moment to catch your breath. “I should save your life more often if that is my reward.”

“You don’t have to do anything quite so grave for us to do this again, Tav.” He murmurs, watching as you sink to your knees to join him on the ground. “I would gladly spend eternity between your thighs if you asked me. It is better than any heaven promised to me by the gods.”

Your lips turn up in a wicked smirk as you take his cum covered hand and bring it to your mouth, sucking the digits clean as you make sure to keep eye contact. Gale tenses, his mouth parting as you bat your eyelashes innocently.

“I might take you up on that offer but first…” You trail off, pulling him closer so that your lips brush his cheek. “We have to face Astarion’s teasing.”

A loud laugh escapes his chest as he shakes his head at your teasing, cupping your face and kissing you tenderly. The taste of your and his cum mingles pleasantly on his tongue and he has to stop himself from deepening the kiss.

“A small price to pay.” He smiles, standing up and holding his hand out for you. “Come, let’s show him exactly what a pleased woman looks like.”

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a-jynx · 1 year

Text

buried promise (Astarion x reader)

bg3 has had me in a chokehold, specifically a certain vampiric rogue.. and i felt angsty, so i hope you enjoy !

maybe this will get me into writing after years lmao - this may be out of character, but i just needed this for my lil heart okay ;-;

angst warning tbh <3

You swore you'd find a cure. You swore to fight for him.

Yet, you forced him to promise to live if you died- he laughed when you said it, not truly believing such words from you... Why would he? You were cursed. Easily fixable... Right?

He sent for anyone - everyone - that could and would help you, but no luck came your way. The curse was progressing faster by day, he could see it. Draining the color from your skin, sucking up your warmth like a fire being snuffed out. Even, your eyes changed colors. Becoming something dull. Lifeless.

You saved the city. You helped even the most miserable low lives when you wouldn't benefit from it. And you... You helped him. Saved him. He swore to save you just like you did for him. Nights became longer as he sat rereading the books Gale had scavenged up for you. Rubbing sleep from his eyes while glancing at your sleeping figure curled up in one of your armchairs; snuggled into a cocoon of blankets to help you keep warm. You looked peaceful. No pain, just peace. Rolling his shoulders, he grabbed another book before practically stabbing his nose into the musky pages. He was going to save you.

"You promised to try, my love," he murmured into your hair, brushing it from your eyes as you curled further into your shared sheets. Cold nipped at your fingertips, biting at your blood supply as if it were your lover. "I tried, my star, but I just want to rest-"

"You've rested enough," he bit, crawling into bed behind you, wrapping his arms tightly around you. His grip shaking. "It's time for you try and get up. Move. You're letting this curse take hold and.." His voice trailed, feeling his chest ache. A tight bubble strangled his voice, quieting it. "Please." His voice was barely a whisper. "Please, try." You glanced over your shoulder to see him. His ruby eyes brimmed with tears. Turning in his hold, you pressed yourself into his chest, gripping his shirt tightly. Your shared ring catching on the fabric as you felt your own tears well up. "Aeterna Amantes," your lips pressed a careful kiss to his exposed skin. Dotting your way up his throat as you felt tears drip past your lips. "Lovers Forever."

He remembered teaching you that. That was his promise to you the day you slipped a ring on each other's finger. Now it's become your promise to. Even if you lay on Death's doorstep, your last breath would be a promise of love to him. A promise for his peace.

"Aeterna Amantes," his voice shook before he buried his head into your hair, lips fangs catching his already chewed lip. Pressing quick kisses against your crown as you allowed your own tears to caress your cheek, he bit back a bitter laugh. "I'll find something." He whispered, hiccupping back a sob. "I'll save you." Wrapped in your sheets and each other, somehow you felt more... Alive than you have in these last days. "I know you will."

Time had not been kind.

He failed. And he kept failing, and failing, and failing - everything seemed to work against him in this rush against time. This curse had sucked your very life from your bones and left you bedridden, hells, you couldn't even make it to the other side of your bed.

"There's not more we could do?" He could beg..

"I'm sorry, my friend, but we've exhausted all of our options." He could slaughter. He could give away the ring that keeps him from bursting into ashes at dawn. He should've protected them. He could've- "The best you could do now is, just be with them. Fill these last moments with peace." He was tired of peace. He wanted life.

"Right. Well, I trust you can find the door," he turned away from his friend, the one person he thought could save his lover - his darling - Had failed him. "I need to keep searching."

"Astarion, these might be their final moments and they're withering away-"

"Do you believe I haven't realized that, Gale?! I'm watching them become a husk of their former self!" He couldn't fight back the laugh, yet tears dripped down his cheeks. "I am the one who watches as they wither away in our very bed. The bed that should've been warmed by them for years to come have it not been for the wench we met! I busy myself with every book and scroll that the lands and seas could offer me! I sit beside them waiting," his lips trembled. "I sit beside my lover waiting for their breathing to stop. For their heart to quit. To take them away from me,"

"I meant no harm,"

"And yet, you suggest I sit idly by and allow my love to perish." Astarion moved upstairs, listening to the front door slam shut behind his friend. He felt his legs give from beneath him, his knees slamming into the stairs. Kneeling there, he pressed himself against the wall, gripping his white curls with shaking fingers. Tugging at the ends, he jumped at the loud thump that came from the top of the stairs. Moving quickly, he nearly fell at the sight.

You sat up from your kneeling, holding your knee as he rushed over, grabbing the blanket that rested around your shoulders as you leaned into his chest. Sweat dripped down your brow while you wheezed, trying to catch your breath. "What happened," he searched over your body for any marks. His fingertips grazed over your old battle scars and even his old love bites, the ridges seemed to chase his touch. "Why're you out of bed, my love? You should've called for me-"

"I heard you and Gale," you murmured into his shirt. His grip seemed to tighten around your waist as you curled further into him. "I know our time is coming to an end." Your breath seemed to be so hushed that even his ears could pick it up. Or, more so he didn't want to hear it.

"Godsdamnit.. Gale is a fool." He snipped, carefully maneuvering your body to fit against his own as he lifted you. You shivered against him, wincing at the movement and bitterness in his voice. "We'll find you something," he paused, pushing open your bedroom door and quickly setting you back into your silk sheet prison. You felt your heart shatter at his state. His skin seemed more transparent, his eyes a duller yet still brilliant red, and dark circles curled around his eyes as they seemed to be sunken in.

"What if there is nothing for me, my love," you sighed, caressing his cheek as he tsked, grabbing your hand and pressing gentle kisses to your tattered knuckles. "What if you're... Wasting our time?"

"Any time I have that is searching for something to help you," he paused, pressing a kiss to your wrist. "Is." Anther kiss to your shoulder. "Never." Another pressed to your neck, you shivered. "Wasted." He pressed his lips firmly against your own. Both of your lips chapped and scratchy, but he moved further into your bubble, pressing his body against your own. His hands slithered up your body, tugging you into his lap while his lips ventured down your throat. His fangs ghosted your flesh, barely leaving a mark in their wake.

You lurched away, your chest squeezed, and your lungs felt as if they were burning from the inside out. You turned away, attempting to cover your cough as Astarion laid you back against your pillow. Blood trickled past your cracked lips as he stared at you with wide eyes, reddened lips agape. "I'm, I'm sorry," you quivered over each shake, covering your mouth as more blood smeared across your chin and palm. He moved closer, ripping a piece of his shirt and pressed it against your lips, wiping away whatever blood spilled.

"Hush, just let it out, darling," His voice trailed as your coughing fit continued. More blood came and more clothes were ripped from his very back. Time had run out..

He left you to sleep, wandering outside into the crisp night air, feeling his lungs burn as he inhaled as deeply as he could. His chest tightened as his mind flickered back to your blood smeared across your lips. The gags and cries as you tried to stop, tried to swallow water to make the copper taste leave, but you said it reminded you of him. The smell and taste. Balling his fists, he moved through the forest behind your home. No clear direction in mind, just movement. Clear air. Dampened colors of the world. He stumbled as he came to a cliff. With a hiss, he stood at the edge, feeling the heightened breeze push past him as if trying to make him stumble and fall.

Fall.

Oh, he fell. He fell for you.

You were a rare gem in his eyes. Someone who could roll with the punches of life and still come out with a smile. Perhaps someone's blood smeared across your cheek, but he would happily wipe it away before pressing his lips to yours. You were his reason for freedom. Hells, you found him something to help keep his freedom amongst the world after 200 centuries of torture and forgetting who he was. But you gave him someone new. You showed him there was a way to a good life... A precious life. But now his reason is being ripped away from him. And he can't fight or kill this beast.

Astarion watched the horizon, his gaze twitching down to the two rings that cladded his fingers. His other hand moved towards it, trembling as he traced the golden bands. One glittered with rubies, a slight glow to the band itself. The other could be seen as just an ordinary ring, yet it held the most value to him. It was his promise to you. The shared rings between you. His gaze settled on the trees to his left. Moving towards it, he smiled softly as his fingers grazed the bark. Your initials carved jaggedly into it with his last name attached. Memories flooded his mind as tears washed over him once more, yet he couldn't fight back the smile gracing him. Turning around he noticed a rather large pair of rocks near the cliff, swallowing thickly he moved closer and grabbing them, plucking his dagger from its sleeve and began to carve.

Hours had passed. He found himself back in front of his - your - home. More memories danced around his mind as he walked inside, his hand grazed every surface it could reach as he moved up the stairs. His chest felt tight, yet he pressed on.

Opening the bedroom door, his gaze softened as it fell to you. Your chest barely pushed up the blankets as sweat matted your hair to your forehead. Your lips were a chapped pink, torn from your nervous chewing - possibly his fangs work as well. Your eyes fluttered as he settled onto the bed next to you, caressing your cheek as you blinked awake. "Finally coming to bed?" You tried to smile as he mirrored it, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your temple.

"I thought we could go somewhere first.. Remember our cliff?" His voice hushed as you sighed, gently nodding. "How could I forget the most magical place of my life?" He smiled again, brushing hair from your eyes. "I would say this was the most magical," he grinned as you scoffed, quickly turning away as you coughed shaking gently.

"I'll help you, my love," he rose from your shared bed. Carefully moving his arm underneath your knees and caressing your back, your body cradled against him. The movements felt like that of a mother rocking her newborn child as he descended down your stairs, still holding you close as you sighed into his ripped and stained shirt. "You... You should wash this, my star," you murmured, feeling the scratch of your old blood stain as he tsked.

"I'll be alright, darling, you just rest..." His voice seemed softer than usual. Lucid even. You heard a door open and shut as the world around you chirped and sang with birds and insects songs. The breeze chilled your skin as you gently shook against Astarion's chest, goosebumps lining your flesh. "We're almost there, my sweet, just a bit longer, please." You nodded against his chest, sighing softly.

All movement stopped as your body met the dirt and grass, Astarion following as you leaned into the curve of his body. You smiled, moving your head to where you could see your vampiric lover. He seemed... At peace. Whole. You caressed his cheek with your trembling hand, your thumb dragging across his skin. His lips caught your thumb, pressing a soft kiss to it.

"Thank you for bringing me here." You whispered, afraid to disturb the gentleness surrounding you.

"Thank you for being with me." He whispered back, catching your lips in an almost blistering kiss. You inhaled, feeling your chest tighten and your eyes began to flutter, yet your lips still danced along with his own. Seemingly chasing his, begging for more time..

He felt his lips quiver as you slumped into his arms. Your mouth falling away from his own while your head rolled into the juncture of his shoulder and neck. Tears stained his cheeks as he held you close, shaking with gasping sobs.

You were gone. Just... Gone.

Licking his lips, he gently stood, taking your limp figure with him before moving towards the hole he had made before.. He knew your time was over when he saw the blood. The thing he once thrived to take from you, now all he could wish for was for it to return to you. Carefully placing your body into the earth, sinking to his knees as he pushed and shoved dirt over your body; more tears blurred his vision as he pushed forward, wanting to dive in after you. Once his hands were dusted in the dirt that now held your body, he glanced to the stone he had carved earlier, Y/N Ancunín. Reaching over, he plucked one of the few wildflowers and laid it on top, releasing a shaking breath.

Astarion blinked once, twice before swallowing thickly. Early sunlight peaked over the horizon now, awakening the world around him and yet... All he wanted was to rest. To sleep. Carefully standing, he moved around your grave, and pressed a kiss to your gravestone. Standing to his full height, he turned towards the cliff and watched as the sun rose over head. Feeling the warmth that caressed his cold skin, he huffed out a sigh as he walked backwards, settling into the spot next to your grave. Licking his lips, he glanced towards your sight once again as he smiled softly, closing his eyes and seeing your smiling face greeting him.

"Aeterna Amantes, my darling.. Lovers Forever. I will find you again," he paused, swallowing around his tongue as he reached towards his left hand, gently tugging off your wedding band and pushing it into the earth underneath him.

"After this life, and the next... I love you, my sweet love."

His voice fell into a sigh as he tugged off the last ring. The sunlight bit and bullied through his flesh, burning and peeling at it as he began to sparkle and crumble. His final thought of hugging you tight while pressing a firm yet loving kiss to your lips. Tugging you into his chest, while you laugh and smile into the kiss.

The sunlight ring glittering in front of your shared burial site. Your headstones he carved with a gentle caress, love, and kindness. You were lovers. Soulmates even. Beings that were crafted to fit one another and Astarion knew that... If he lost you, he would lose himself all over again. Besides... He promised you.

#bg3 x reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion #reader insert #bg3 astarion #baulders gate astarion #baulders gate 3 x reader #baulders gate 3 #astarion angst #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion romance

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chaoticbardlady99 · 8 months

Text

Twists and Turns (Astarion x F!Reader)

Synopsis: Astarion initially rejected you and you turn your attentions elsewhere- to his surprise.

By the time Astarion realizes his feelings for you- it’s too late. You and Gale are happy together and Astarion would never ruin that for you, but sometimes fate surprises us. Especially Astarion- who never thought he’d see Gale as a hero.

CW: Character death, angsty?, fluffy, crotch goblins (children)

Pairings: Gale Dekarios x F! reader and Astarion Acunin x F! reader- also some dadstarian

✨lightly edited✨

Author note: I was inspired by @thedomesticanthropologist post regarding an unconventionally attractive Tav. I didn’t really touch on it too much, but it is apart of the story to an extent. Please be kind because my writer’s anxiety has been so bad I almost deleted my blog entirely 🫣

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated 💜

Photo belongs to @venenum-cadaverinus on Tumblr

By the time Astarion had fallen in love with you- it had already been too late.

Oh he flirted with you, called you beautiful when he believed you weren’t much to look at, and then you had come up to ask if he would want to go look at stars with you the night of the Tiefling party. Astarion couldn’t get himself to even pretend he wanted to indulge in you. He assumed you were only wanting to sleep with him and he was not about to sleep with you just because you asked. Astarion no longer has to do anything anyone asks of him.

“I have standards.”

Your face falls and the book of Astronomy in your hand nearly slips.

“Oh- I,” you clear your throat, “I’m sorry to have bothered you then.”

He had rolled his eyes when he came back from being with whatever Tiefling woman he had approached- you had been crying quietly in your tent.

Astarion found the whole thing unattractive and well, really he found you unattractive. Astarion has a preference for traditionally beautiful people and you would never be that. You would surely get over it eventually and if he’s lucky, you’ll just be an annoying kicked puppy who will do anything for him like you have been since he met you.

So, for whatever reason, Astarion assumed everything would go back to normal the next day and the two of you would fall back into the usual routine- he sits and reads while you eat breakfast in the mornings, he talks about whatever book he is reading, you ask him questions about himself, and then you go about your days separately until going through the same motions for dinner. Astarion fights next to you and you protect each other. You are smitten with Astarion and he has you wrapped around his pinkie finger like he wanted.

So imagine his surprise when you don’t come out for breakfast or dinner at all- at least not to sit with him. All of a sudden, Gale is with you all the time. He had seen the man come up to you while you were holding your book and he hugged you- the wizard even glared at Astarion while he was doing it.

Astarion upped his game after that, but nothing he said ever reached you anymore. He’d call you beautiful and he’d watch you visibly flinch. He asked you to go to bed with him and you told him no- you wanted to be with someone who thought you were special and beautiful. Astarion said he does think that. You got angry with him and told him to stop lying- go back to “having standards”. Your anger stung and he knew it was justified, but the little pieces of your trust he could get eventually blossomed into a friendship. Only, now he wanted more and Astarion was entirely infatuated with you.

He had decided to tell you how he felt one night before the descent into the Shadow Cursed Lands, but you were quickly swept away by Gale the moment Astarion tried to come talk to you.

Gale was dragging you off somewhere very specific and when Astarion let his nosiness get the best of him- it dawned on him that he had truly lost you 2 months ago when he had said what he said.

You peer through a telescope excitedly, telling Gale about all your favorite constellations and why. He shares his own knowledge with you and you are wide eyed, fascinated- leaning in to hear more. Gale’s own lips hover over yours and the two of you are smiling at each other widely. Astarion thinks he’s going to throw up when Gale kisses you- not because he’s disgusted, but because it occurred to him that he might have thrown away the only person who actually gave a shit about Astarion enough to love him and he broke your heart. Fitting that he is the one hurting now.

Maybe that’s really all you had wanted- to share something you love with Astarion. You wanted to feel like he gave a shit about you too and he said, “I have standards”!? What in the hells is wrong with him!?

The part of him- the less prideful part- wishes he had gotten to see you this way for him. Why did he spend so much time focusing on you knowing him? Why didn’t he take the time to see you this way? Know you this way when you wanted him.

Gale said something that made you laugh heartily as he brushed stray hair from your face, his hands gripping your hips, and you gasped when he kissed you again. The sound fills Astarion with warmth, but makes him feel sick at the same time. That should be him with you, not Gale.

You went from being plain, unattractive and uninteresting to the single most beautiful individual he has ever met. Astarion found himself hanging onto your words (even the angry ones) and yearning to be next to you.

You continued to do your dance with Gale while Astarion continued his own dance with you. When you threaten that horrible Drow on his behalf, Astarion has to accept it- he has well and truly fallen for you.

Astarion decided he would tell you when you got back from whatever excursion you were on with Gale. He had to at least try. Besides, what could Gale possibly show you in the Shadow Cursed Lands?

Only it had been too late- neither one of you came back for hours and when you did, the two of yours’ scents were mingled so closely together he could barely distinguish you from Gale. You began sleeping in the man’s tent, holding his hand during meals, exchanging kisses, etc.

Astarion, on the other hand, had taken the unofficial title of ‘best friend’. It had stung quite a bit, but he happily took whatever scraps you could give him. It was hardly scraps though- Astarion feels emotionally cared for, protected, and respected by you at all times. Besides, Astarion has a feeling that, if anything happened between you and Gale, there was a very good chance for Astarion to take over that space in your heart again.

The love test at the circus proved it- you had been more compatible with Astarion than Gale. Thankfully you had gone at separate times (Astarion and Gale have since become friendly enough so Astarion doesn’t have to worry about losing you). You had avoided Astarion’s eyes while Gale boasted about the Love Test results.

You had been the first one to wake up and attack his siblings when they had tried to kidnap him. Astarion had never seen you look that angry before in the entire time he has met you- you were even angrier than when Araj had pestered him.

You admitted to Astarion later that day that you hadn’t been sleeping well- you were worried about Cazador or his siblings showing up and that you wouldn’t get there in time. It had been haunting you since the minute you stepped foot in Rivington.

When he finally did face Cazador, it was with you at his side and when he finally killed the man- you didn’t deny Astarion the hug he begged you for telepathically. You held him up as he sank against you and you said soothing words- you told him how proud of him you were. You still reminded him everyday after when he expressed doubt.

Astarion was certain he would watch you grow old with Gale and have a family. So Astarion promised himself that he will love you dutifully regardless and protect you and your family like you have protected him. When you pass? He isn’t sure what he will do then, but he has eternity to be without you and Gods only knows long to be around you.

Until the Wizard of Waterdeep just had to throw him a curve ball the night before the battle against the Netherbrain.

Astarion was sitting by the roaring fireplace as he tried not to make it obvious to Gale that he’s silently pining for you. You were laughing and telling jokes with Karlach and Wyll- Shadowheart joining in and eventually Lae’zel. Your laughter is probably one of Astarion’s favorite sounds.

Only because he doesn’t know what you sound like moaning underneath him.

“You love her.”

Astarion’s train of thought broke and he gawked at the Wizard.

“I-um,” Astarion cleared his throat, “I’m afraid you have the wrong impression. Obviously I’m looking at…”

Actually now that he’s looked over there, none of them were believable enough for him to get out of this one.

“Yes- yes fine. I love her,” Astarion scowls, “you won, I love her and get to watch you live a whole life with her. Congratulations.”

“Astarion- I didn’t say that because I want to rub it in your face. I’m saying it because I have a favor to ask- for Tav’s sake.”

Astarion felt himself freeze. He was silently praying that Gale wasn’t going to tell him to stay away from you- to walk away and never come back after the events of tomorrow. It would be the thing that kills Astarion.

“Okay,” he says wearily, “I’m listening.”

“We all know it’s possible that some of us won’t be leaving this journey alive tomorrow.”

Is he suggesting you might die tomorrow? Astarion still stays right next to you during fights- no one even gets within an inch of you if he can help it.

“If it comes down to it and I need to use my orb,” Gale says solemnly, “I need you to take Tav and run- I don’t care if you need to drag her, cast sleep on her, anything as long as it’s painless.”

Astarion stared at the man blankly. He’s asking Astarion to drag you away as you watch your boyfriend sacrifice himself for the sake of the greater good of humanity.

“Why- why are you asking me? And not Karlach or-“

“Because I know you won’t tell her that I’m considering it as an option,” Gale said before adding, “and I am very aware that she loves you too. She’s going to need you if I die.”

“Need me?,” Astarion laughs in disbelief, “Gale, I broke her heart and I’m about to lose the only way I can walk in the sun tomorrow. It would be stupid of her to-“

“No, it would not,” Gale frowns, “she loves you, Astarion. Stop pushing her away.”

“You aren’t dead yet, Wizard,” Astarion said with an edge to his tone, “there is still a possibility that there is a Dekarios wedding in the foreseeable future.”

Gale smiled sadly at Astarion.

“That is the hope- is it not?” Gale got up to join you and the others, “you’ll remember that you deserve to be loved for her- won’t you?”

Astarion watched the man walk off like he hadn’t just dropped a massive bomb onto Astarion’s world. He watched as you smiled brightly at Gale and your hands intertwined with his.

But he also caught you looking over at him with a welcoming, pleading smile. Astarion smiles back and joins- hoping that he won’t be part of the reason that smile fades ever again.

*******************************

Gale looks at Astarion- they are losing. Tav is hurt, but still trying to sling spells and cantrips. Karlach and Wyll are becoming cornered quickly, Shadowheart and Lae’zel too. Even with all of the support they brought and it still wasn’t enough.

You bastard, Astarion telepathically says to Gale, you really are going to make me the bad guy, huh?

Ha!, Gale thinks sadly, you have it turned around. It has been a privilege to know you, Astarion. Take care of Tav for me.

Same to you, Gale- I promise she’ll be safe.

Gale announces to everyone they need to leave. You run towards Gale screaming for him to stop- that he doesn’t have to do this, but Astarion intercepts you.

“ASTARION- PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW,” you scream while slamming your fists into his back, struggling to make him release you, “PUT ME- GALE PLEASE- I LOVE YOU!”

Gale smiles at you with all the love in the world.

“I love you too, Tav. Always and forever.”

Gale casts a spell and like that- they are on the docks. You are screaming and throwing magic- desperate to get back to Gale as Astarion holds you close to his chest.

“I hate you!” You scream as you push Astarion weakly, “ I… I-“

You look at him pitifully and Astarion’s heart aches with yours. Astarion pulls you back towards him in a tight hug and holds you. You sob into his chest and hold him back with equal ferocity.

Astarion’s ability to comfort you only lasts about five minutes before the sun begins to burn him again and Karlach is dying- Wyll convinces her to go to Avernus with him. Astarion races to the shadows- certain that he is about to go into the darkness alone as he hides behind the crates.

He cradles his burning hand to his chest and hisses through the pain. Astarion doesn’t register the frantic footsteps approaching him.

“ASTARI- oh my Gods.”

He looks up at you in disbelief as you get down to your knees next to him and begin pulling out healing scrolls, potions, anything you can think of that might help.

You stay next to him until it’s time to move to a different set of shadows and you stay with him every moment afterwards.

You spend the next 6 months together starting your search for a Ring of the Sunwalker in the Underdark- successfully assassinating a very powerful Drow Priestess for it right before Wither’s party.

When you head back to Baldur’s gate together- Astarion sells all of Cazador’s shit and his castle. He invites you to live with him and you pick a house together.

Your emotions have been foreign and not easy for Astarion to handle over the last 6 months and even a year after moving in together, but he thinks about how crazy he would feel if you had also died that day and so he has weathered every storm you throw at him.

Astarion sits as you angrily rant about how unfair it was for him to make that decision without you. You wanted a choice, some kind of say, and you even occasionally just screamed at Astarion for preventing you from staying with him.

This continues even after the party that Wither’s throws. Tara adored you just as Gale had predicted and his holograph healed a piece of you, but now your grief is all consuming. You lay in bed for days on end and you stop eating or even coming out of your room. Scratch lays next to you dutifully until Astarion takes him out to use the restroom. They have to disguise the poor dog as a cat, but he doesn’t seem to mind very much.

Astarion lets you sit and do what you need to do, but after day 10, he finally needs to help you feel like a person again- in whatever way he can. So he runs you a bath and he helps you numbly walk towards it. It’s been about 30 minutes since he left you upstairs. He considered offering to help you, but he wasn’t sure if that would be crossing a line.

You walk downstairs moments later and quietly say his name. Astarion looks up at you and smiles- you took a bath.

“Well, well, look at you,” Astarion teases, “you sure clean up nicely.”

You laughed hoarsely at his joke and sat next to him. Astarion doesn’t move- he wants to pull you into his lap, but he doesn’t want to push your boundaries.

“Can- would you-,” you choke on the lump in your throat, “would you hold me, please?”

Astarion’s face softens as you begin to sniffle and your shoulder begins to shake with the sobs you are trying to hold back.

“Of course, Darling.”

You crawl into his lap and you lean the side of your head against his unbeating heart. Astarion just goes back to reading his book, enjoying the comfortable silence and how your body finally seems to have relaxed. You’d been so tense for the last two years- constantly on the verge of breaking in half, but he knows how resilient you are. He knows your strength and he knew you would get out of it eventually- even if only for a little while at a time.

“What are you reading?”

Your voice sings through the air and is like music to his ears. You sound like you again- tired and still a little melancholy- but you nonetheless.

“Well, Darling, I thought it might be worth learning about some of this astronomy nonsense a little over a year ago so we could talk about it when you felt better,” Astarion says, trying to say it as nonchalantly as possible, “I’ve come to really enjoy the topic.”

You beam at him and it’s the first time he’s seen a smile reach your eyes in what feels like eons. You quiz him, correct him, you tell him everything over the ‘stars’ and then some as you so horribly said. Astarion can’t help but find the moment to be so bittersweet.

He finally had the moment he wanted with you, but he didn’t think a single moment would cost a life.

************************************

“Elanora! Gale! Get back here you little-“

The twins giggle as they run from Astarion around the house. He understands what people mean by terrible twos now.

It’s been a little over 10 years since Gale died. In that time- Karlach had her engine fixed and five years ago, you found a Wish scroll for Astarion. Being a living breathing human again was a very difficult adjustment for the first two years. It’s been 3 years now and it’s not as difficult, but he did forget about the whole pregnancy thing.

It had been a massive shock when you fell pregnant a few months after you and Astarion had gotten married a little over two years ago. Astarion had been so focused on the proposal being perfect that it took longer for him to ask than he wanted.

You giving birth was probably the most terrifying experience of his life and you very well almost died, but by some miracle, you lived through the gruesome endeavor. He gives his thanks to Shadowheart, Isobel, and Dame Aylin. Astarion suspects Gale might have had a hand in it too because you had been out cold, but woke up with tears in your eyes and told Astarion that A. Gale says hello and B. how dare he think you’d just abandon two children with him like that. You are responsible “dammit!”

Astarion is so grateful you didn’t die giving birth to his children. He loves the little crotch goblins to death, but you are the only one they really listen to. You always tell him it’s because he gives in- Astarion argues “how could I not!? Have you seen them!? They are adorable!”

Scratch tried to help him initially after you left to go spend time with Shadowheart, Karlach, and Lae’zel at Elfsong Tavern. The poor dog didn’t last much longer than Astarion- hiding under the bed from the monstrous toddlers that are definitely from his gene pool.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind saying n-“

“They are my children, Darling,” he said all too confidently, “I can handle time alone with my children!”

Evidently there is a difference between handling and surviving- Astarion would consider himself trying to survive. He should have taken Halsin’s offer to hang out- maybe the twins would listen to their Uncle more than him.

Astarion eventually caught them, bathed them, read them a book, and got them to bed. The minute Gale fell asleep around 11:30 pm was the same time you came home.

Astarion came down the stairs and you began to laugh as quietly as you could behind your hand. He leers at you playfully.

“Did you have fun, my Star?” You tease.

“Once I finally caught them- yes,” he says flatly.

You walk up to him and wrap your arms around his torso.

“Let’s go to bed- then you can tell me all about it and I’ll tell you all the hot gossip Karlach has heard from Wyll about the upper class in Baldur’s Gate.”

“Will it be in the paper tomorrow?”

“Oh yes,” you grin widely, “ oh yes it will.”

Astarion loves when you come back from meeting with Karlach- he always knows what’s happening before it even happens. It means he gets to watch everyone else be scandalized which is usually 1,000 times more entertaining than the gossip itself. One time- the paper had been so explicit that the next door neighbor (an elderly woman) quite literally died of shock after reading about an affair the Magistrate had with the Duke. Apparently she was a hard core supporter of the wives and never anticipated such ugly men to cheat on their wives (you may have found him using a talk to the undead spell on the poor woman).

You fall asleep faster than you anticipated- at least that’s what Astarion thinks. The moment you lay your head on his chest is the same moment you slowly, softly begin to snore as he tells you about the evening. You chuckle when he says he is going to need help cleaning up the water in the bathroom tomorrow.

These are the nights that Astarion finds himself looking up to the heavens and smiling sadly- thanking Gale for his sacrifice, for giving Astarion a life he never thought he would ever have.

Most importantly, he thanks Gale for you. For letting go of what future he could have had with you. For not asking you to stay and die with him.

Gale Dekarios is the only reason Astarion Ancunin believes in heroes at all.

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messiahzzz · 6 months

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Hello! I love your meta-analysis of BG3 and share many of the same opinions concerning our boy, Gale. I have an interesting question for you concerning the orbs "volatility" in relation to intimacy (both physical and non-physical). I used to believe it was cannon that Gale couldn't engage in physical intimacy because the Orb may detonate, but when I played as Gale I was able to sleep with Astarion. This is in contrast to when I played as Karlach and couldn't touch anyone.

So, all of this is to ask whether Gale's dialogue at the tiefling party was him protecting himself emotionally or if he truly thought that any excitement would trigger the Orb (ironic given they are fighting for their lives daily)? Additionally is this why the Weave scene only features an imagined kiss rather than a physical one?

thank you so much for the questions!! i’m very glad you enjoy reading my posts 💕

gale: with my condition being as volatile as it is, i fear any undue, er, excitement, may tip it over the edge. so to speak.

i do believe that gale was being honest in regards to avoiding physical/emotional excitement concerning the orb. his first and foremost priority is to make sure to avoid as many potential triggers as possible, being fully aware of the catastrophe that will occur if he doesn’t keep an eye on his condition at all times. fighting is inevitable given the situation the group found themselves in. on top of that, every single day for the past year alone has quite literally been a life or death situation for him, wondering how much longer he can hold on until the orb inevitably takes over. i also think that he has experienced his fair share of horrors and tough fights in his past, considering his status as an archmage, as well as him being mystra’s chosen. even with his now diminished powers & the tadpole in his head he still remains in his element. magic is his life, it comes as easy to him as breathing.

gale: i'm what one might call a wizard prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the weave, but compose it, much like a musician or a poet.

more importantly, the devnotes also proof that the orb is indeed the reason for his deflection during the tiefling party:

gale: i see. then perhaps we see each other in the same light after all. a resplendent one, flush with warmth and anticipation, but one which i must shy away from, for now. node context: still flustered, but pleased to learn you like him romantically. then getting to the point - he can't do anything until the orb is dealt with.

if tav directly tells him to cease the perceived flirting, he will reveal that he considered their relationship to be a "budding romance" at this stage.

player: if this is an attempt at flirting, you should stop. i'm not interested. gale: right. understood. you shall hear no more on the subject from me. gale: consider this budding romance thoroughly nipped. though i hope our friendship need not come to such an abrupt end.

yet at the same time, he is also completely flustered if tav is the one who initiates the flirting:

player: do you like having your belly rubbed? gale: the pleasures i experienced in mystra's embrace go far beyond the pleasures of having one's tummy tickled. i remember once, she took the smallest piece of the weave and made it into- gale: wait. are you saying... nodecontext: taking the question seriously, missing the flirtatious side of it. nodecontext: realizing that the player was flirting, getting flustered

regardless of which flirt option tav chooses to pick, the outcome remains the same:

gale: you know what, i think i've clearly had far too much wine. and you've had nowhere near enough. i think this is a conversation best held back on - for now. nodecontext: flustered, hesitating to explicitly say what he thinks you were offering, then backtracking altogether

while battle naturally is always accompanied by the unpredictable, (as well as the dread of facing a yet unknown enemy) i don’t think he experiences quite the same amount of trepidation as where matters of the heart are concerned. or perhaps it would be more accurate to say it’s an altogether different kind.

the budding relationship with tav is once again unfamiliar territory for him after all those years he went without mortal intimacy, years that have been spent with mystra instead. it’s understandable that he exercises caution at all times, knowing what’s at stake if he lets go for but merely a moment. i also believe gale to be a character who generally goes “all out” once he chooses to be intimate with someone. we know that he doesn’t do casual trysts, friends-with-benefits arrangements, or anything of the sort. instead he wants to build a deep connection first. gale is a romantic through and through, he only feels comfortable being intimate once it has been explicitly established that the emotions he feels for tav are indeed wholly reciprocated. gale puts his whole heart into everything he does, he would’ve felt that it was a disservice to tav if he was only able to give them (according to him) even less than the remaining fragments of a broken man he has to offer — once he decides to give himself, he gives himself fully.

another added factor, however, is that the tiefling party simply wasn’t the right time for him yet, even if he already felt some attraction to them. part of him perhaps would’ve liked to go a bit further, be more direct about his growing fondness for them. spending a night together, just enjoying each other's company, talking until the sun rises, perhaps even sharing their first kiss if he felt that the timing was right — but i don’t think he would’ve considered this to be the appropriate stage in their relationship to sleep with tav either way. orb or no.

gale also tells us this much during the Last Night Alive scene, as well as during the conversation after you just met tara. in an ideal situation he would’ve taken his time, courted tav properly, said it all better.

gale: if things were different, if we were home, i'd have taken the time to do things properly. to say it all better. but time is short.

gale: i always imagined what it would be like when you finally got to meet her. this wasn't quite what i had pictured. gale: i thought we'd be in waterdeep. you, curled up before a crackling hearth while i prepared us a ridiculously extravagant meal, served with a batch of my homemade hundur sauce.

time is short.

i always headcanoned gale to be on the demi spectrum. that he needs to build a close bond before sexual intimacy is something that even remotely occurs to him. tav is an anomaly in this regard — he knows he deeply cares for them, emotions that developed even in the short, few months they've known each other, and that he doesn’t have the luxury of time to let their relationship unfold in all the many ways he dreamed of. all he knows is that he loves tav, wholly and truly. and that, by the gods, he has to make the most out of the few extra heartbeats he’s been given. even if his death is inevitable, he will at least be able to show them the depths of his affection. leave them with shared memories of pure tenderness, a knowledge of a love so profound that it might perhaps even prevail way beyond his passing.

player: what about all we shared together? are you just going to give up? gale: this isn't giving up it's securing victory, at a price i am willing to pay. and everything we shared can live on - with you.

i wouldn’t necessarily say that gale was trying to “protect himself emotionally” during the tiefling party, but rather acted accordingly to the horrifying circumstances the tadpole gang (and especially he himself) find themselves in. i don’t think gale ever really considers a romanced!tav as someone he needs to be guarded around. evident in the way he immediately throws all doors open without any sign of hesitation once he has their assurance that their love is indeed mutual. gale pours his heart out to them regardless, not knowing whether his feelings are truly returned. he is not a character who shies away from being vulnerable by any means. he is an open book, that tav is free to peruse in as they see fit. a slither of trust is all he needs.

during the weave scene the connection abruptly fades once tav either imagines passionately kissing him or holding his hand during a romantic walk. a scene that again shows that he is genuinely stunned by what he’s being shown. after all, it doesn't happen often that gale of waterdeep is at a loss for words.

gale: i... i didn't think... narrator: *you perceive quick-fire gusts of embarrassment, trepidation, and finally... elation.* gale: sorry, i wasn't expecting... but it is a pleasant image to be sure! gale: most pleasant, in fact. most welcome. nodecontext: warm, with real affection

i do believe the weave scene in particular to be a turning point for him. sort of an epiphany. the first moment in which he realizes that he actually might like the idea of eventually being with tav as perhaps more than a friend. that he is filled with fondness whenever they’re near and that he is excited to see where their joined travels lead them next.

player: when i said we could be more than friends, you answered 'perhaps'. what does that really mean? gale: if i recall correctly, the waterdhavian dictionary of the common tongue of faerun defines it as an adverb that conveys the meaning of 'it may be that', or 'possibly'. gale: you see, i'm not a big believer in fate, but i do believe in serendipity. gale: life is a tempest of events that sometimes we brace against and sometimes embrace. gale: you're one such event that, one day soon perhaps, i'd like to embrace.

given my personal hc of gale being demisexual, i genuinely don’t believe that he entertained the thought before that. he was way too preoccupied with other more pressing concerns. his overall condition, the tadpole, mourning the loss of his powers, still dealing with a lingering sense of loneliness and melancholy. a yearning for better times, as well as disillusionment of being cast out and left behind, even if he has already worked through his romantic feelings for mystra and their unilaterally ended relationship by then.

gale: i'm hardly pining. it's been a year or more since mystra cast me aside.

tav’s advances genuinely catch him off guard, which is, according to my interpretation, also the reason why their shared connection abruptly faded. a general loss of focus. gale immediately bidding tav goodnight to reflect on the situation and sort through his thoughts again shows that this wasn’t how he expected this moment of teaching to unfold. it seems rather uncharacteristic of him to initiate a kiss in this specific scenario. tav was testing the waters, whether it happened intentionally or not, and gale found himself pleasantly surprised by the turn of events.

i also believe that we generally shouldn’t use origin playthroughs as a cross-reference for the actual canon. larian approached each story with more or less detail and there are already so many inconsistencies present that have been pointed out by other players. instead we should see origin pts as an oc kind of scenario — larian handing us the reigns of each origin character, a way for us to have fun and figure out all the atrocities we could possibly come up with. sort of like playing with our own set of barbies. (“go nuts, show nuts” as tunglr staff put it back in the day) for example, playing as w*ll doesn’t lock you out of raiding the grove and spending a steamy night with m*nth*ra right after either. which is something that contradicts everything he stands for/something he wouldn't naturally do. even if you try to play an origin character as close to their canon portrayal as possible, you will still encounter several contradictions and discrepancies during the duration of your game. larian sadly also has a chronic pattern of overlooking gale in terms of content, fixes, and overall responsiveness. so it’s easy to conclude that his origin story simply hasn’t been fleshed out to the same extent & treated with the same amount of care and consideration that certain other characters received. (which is awfully ironic considering he’s been proven to be the most popular origin character, but i digress)

basically, this has been my very long-winded way of saying: the reason why gale refuses to be intimate with tav pre-orb stabilization is indeed because he is afraid of the orb accidentally detonating during a moment of carelessness and/or indulgence, as well as because of gale’s own preferences when sex & romance are concerned.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 meta #long post #asks #gale's romance is the most delicious kind of slow-burn #or well. it would be if larian had actually bothered to put the same care and resources into his story #instead of merely cutting content and deciding to do a 180 #it speaks #please don't check for grammar i wrote this in a rush

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madeofjules · 2 months

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Thg non-canon things that are claimed as canon?

Oh man this will probably start some fights lol, but just to be clear I'm not saying that all of these can't be true or people are wrong for believing they are. It's more just that we don't know for sure because they're never confirmed in the source text and therefore (IMO) cannot be labeled as canon. Here are some common ones off the top of my head:

Finnick was the youngest victor ever

Rue's death sparked the rebellion

Everything Katniss did was for Prim (it all started with her protecting Prim, yes, but Prim stopped being her sole motivation after she stepped into the arena)

The Quell was rigged for Finnick to win

Peeta refused to kill (he literally said he would so idk where people got this from)

Katniss was indigenous or Katniss was white (these are the two most common ones I see people claim as canon, but her race was never stated)

Peeta's family didn't care about him or he didn't care about them

Katniss always assumed she'd marry Gale (she said that other people probably assumed it, not that she did)

Career academies

Foxface killed herself

Katniss was the first ever volunteer in district 12

Annie wasn't a Career (there isn't a single reason to believe this)

Peeta was still hijacked after the war

Katniss never experienced desire or wanted to kiss anyone (saw a fan art about this and I was just like, did we read the same books?)

Peeta wasn't a good tribute (boggles my mind that this is a popular take)

Katniss's mom didn't love her, didn't try to reach out to her after the war, and all the other stuff people make up about her to demonize her further

Disclaimer: canon can be murky when there are both books and films. The THG movies repeatedly contradict the books and some characters are completely different than their book counterparts, so it's really not possible for both canons to exist simultaneously in one universe. That's why I view the source material as the ultimate determinant of canon.

Of course, there are some movie-only details that could be true in the books as well, like Finnick being the youngest victor. My issue is more with people claiming that movie details refuted in the books are canon, or combining movie-only canon with book-only canon, or simply picking and choosing what is and isn't canon based on their preferences. I see people do this disingenuously to push certain narratives, like "the weird thing my favorite character did in the movie isn't canon but the bad thing my least favorite character did is".

All of that brings so much inconsistency and bias into the story that it starts to lose meaning and purpose, so I think it makes the most sense to only consider the books "true" canon when viewing the story as a whole.

None of this is to say people can't have headcanons or things they prefer over book canon or anything like that. The fun part of fandom is being able to engage with the material in a way that means something to you personally. So please don't take anything I'm saying as an attack on your opinions because that's not my intention.

#unless you believe foxface killed herself #then I'm definitely judging you #I know saying Katniss isn't canonically indigenous is controversial on here but it's objectively true #she has no canon race #doesn't mean people can't headcanon it #I see her as multiracial but I love native Katniss #the hunger games #ask

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illegiblewords · 9 months

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SOME ILLEGIBLE RAMBLES AND REFLECTIONS: GALE AND WYLL AS FORSAKEN CHILDREN

Gale and Wyll share a rather unique element of abuse that I haven't seen discussed yet. Someone's gotta talk about it, might as well be me lol.

I would argue that both Wyll and Gale are being pressured to destroy themselves at the altar of certainty. Wyll pacted with Mizora in the first place because when the cult of Tiamat threatened Baldur's Gate, he was told that destruction and death were inevitable outcomes unless he agreed. Mizora was exploiting fear, self-doubt, and a double-standard in self-worth. Even in the Forgotten Realms I'm pretty sure the future isn't set in stone. There was a definite chance destruction and death could occur due to the cult of Tiamat though, and Wyll was willing to enter an incredibly abusive pact to avoid that possibility. His alternative was to accept that life is struggle and uncertainty by nature, and he does not have total control over outcomes. The idea that his best might not be good enough and others might come to harm was enough to justify self-destruction in Wyll's own mind back then. In scenarios where Wyll ends his pact, it's narratively poetic that Mizora poses the same question. This is a way for audiences to examine whether or not Wyll has changed over the course of his pact, whether he looks at himself and life the way he did originally. Mizora tells him with the same false-pretense of certainty that if he doesn't use her power then his father will die and it will be Wyll's fault for not sacrificing himself in Ulder's name. Having Wyll break the pact feels appropriate to me. Whether he succeeds or fails in saving Ulder, it matters that he makes the attempt as a free man without any guaranteed outcome. If he succeeds, it's an especially good way to spit in the face of Mizora's manipulation. She never knew for sure what tomorrow would bring. She had no right to pretend that she did. Mystra does a similar thing to Gale. Gale might succeed in destroying the Absolute without detonating the orb. He might succeed in retrieving the Crown of Karsus. He might not. Mystra isn't in it for mortals here either way. She wants what she wants for herself when she wants it. And while the scene before the final battle varies depending on choices, I had one where Gale basically started panicking because if he didn't use the orb and the group's efforts failed--he thought that everyone who died to the Absolute and mindflayers would be because of him. He thought it would be cowardice and selfishness not to kill himself. He could have gone up alone, detonated the orb alone, and made CERTAIN nobody died except for him. The alternative was to risk failure for the possibility that he wouldn't need to die too. Like Wyll, Gale was taught not to trust himself. Like Wyll, Gale believes his life and well-being are acceptable prices for 'the greater good'. Like Wyll, Gale is being told that the fault of everyone's suffering if he tries and fails is not the Absolute, not the Emperor, not the Dead Three--but him. His best couldn't overpower those enemies, so it's his fault for letting everyone down. It's his fault for not just killing himself. For Wyll it isn't Mizora's fault if his father dies. It isn't Gortash's faut. Blame falls on him exclusively because he wasn't ready to put himself back into the power of an abuser. The attempt to shift accountability is incredibly dishonest. Both Wyll and Gale are basically being put into the allegory of the foresaken child. For anyone who may not know it, the story goes like this.

There is a perfect, utopian city. No one suffers, no one fights, no disease ravages its streets, no hunger grips its people. And everyone not only lives in peace, but lives in the certainty that their peace will never be broken. There is, however, a price to this. For all the residents of that city to enjoy tranquility a single, innocent child must be sacrificed to endure unimaginable torture. It's because of this child's suffering that everyone else is guaranteed happiness. Is that child's life an acceptable price?

Most people would say it isn't. The allegory exists to illustrate how people might decide to give cruelty and horror a pass.

There is another saying that exists, too. "Those who would sacrifice freedom for security deserve neither." That is also what is being demanded of Wyll and Gale--their freedom, their agency, their efforts rejected as inadequate. Only guaranteed outcomes will do according to their abusers... except life has no guarantees.

I would argue Wyll and Gale are both effectively forsaken children, who are being blamed for balking when told to accept their torment for the good of everyone else. Their abusers condemn them for not treating themselves as expendable.

There's a difference between a sacrifice freely made as a last resort when all alternatives are exhausted, and someone making a sacrifice because they regard their own life as cheap or are afraid of failure as a possibility. There's also a huge difference when someone sacrifices themself as their own idea compared to being coerced or manipulated into it. And as a fun personal experience that accidentally illustrated the point. During my first complete play through, it happened that there were two characters in-range of the Netherbrain. One was Karlach, wailing on the thing until it had about twenty HP left. The other was Gale. Gale had no powerful spells left, and no scrolls left. But he had cantrips and he was in-range. The last move in that fight was Gale killing the Netherbrain with shocking grasp. Considering that Gale started the game with basically none of his archwizard spells, that Mystra had no trust in his capabilities and encouraged him to doubt his own capabilities, that Mystra wanted him to kill himself regardless of whether it was necessary simply because it was certain... having Gale win on the reaction cantrip felt like the biggest fuck you he could have given. Could not have asked for things to unfold better than that personally. In any case the idea that Wyll and Gale come to realize they're more capable than they ever gave themselves credit, that they aren't disposable, and that they aren't to blame for the bad actions of other people seems like a key lesson for both of them imo.

#wyll ravengard #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 #bgiii #Fwiw I don't have the best opinion on Ulder but I don't think he needs to die either #I kind of wish Wyll had more opportunity to express selfishness and have that framed as okay #Also I've seen takes on 'is Gale morally supposed to have blown himself up' when the narrative doesn't actually support that #Neither does the gameplay tbh

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waterdeep-weavemoss · 3 months

Text

Endure

This is just deeply self indulgent, inspired by @mumms-the-word's fic featuring chronically ill Tav (forgive me please; I want to read it but I have to be mentally strong to do so I think.) So this is just... a little bit of truth from my own life. The diseases are from the setting, but that's it. So this is a little bit of me, fictionalised. Be kind, please.

'I must become a lionhearted girl, ready for a fight.' - Rabbit Heart, Florence & the Machine

Taglist:

@boufsy @owlseeyoulaterpal @lanafofana

@auroraesmeraldarose @aryancunin @miradelletarot @marlowethebard @silent-words

@netherese0rb @sorceresssundries

Tav stared into the campfire, walking cane across her lap. I’ll be alright, she thought. A tadpole is nothing compared to what I’ve been through. I’ve got this. Still, she felt the familiar sneak of anxiety in her gut. Now they were in the shadow cursed lands, and death loomed over their shoulders. Astarion was pretending to read a book, but she could feel his feline gaze on the back of her head. Gale was really reading, but she noticed he would glance up at her every few pages, as though checking she was alright. Shadowheart was eavesdropping on Wyll and Karlach’s conversation, Lae’zel apparently uninterested in socialising, engrossed as she was in a githyanki slate. So Tav sat alone, thinking.

Why did you bring me back? She closed her eyes, furrowing her brow. I never asked for any of this. I’ve been so strong for you my entire life and you let this happen to me. Why? Without warning, tears slid silently down her cheeks. She heard the soft thud of books closing and felt Gale and Astarion settle on either side of her. Astarion’s cool fingers stroked her back soothingly as Gale reached for her hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles, both of them comforting in the ways they could. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, not even opening her eyes to look at them.

‘Pish posh,’ said Gale softly, nudging her shoulder. ‘You don’t need to lie.’

‘Just having a crisis of faith, I suppose,’ she said, sniffing and opening her eyes. She wiped fiercely at them with her free hand. ‘Hating my lot in life a little bit tonight.’ She sighed, deep and tired. ‘I thought you could choose your deity. Not me. I was plucked from the brink of death, and I’ve been fucked ever since.’

‘The gods are bastards and wretches,’ said Astarion bitterly.

Tav shrugged. ‘Without him I’d be dead. Still, it’s not like he’s offered me a bounty of beauty or particular skill or-’ she gestured vaguely, ‘-magic. It’s just been a litany of hurts. I’m tired.’

‘I never asked,’ said Gale. ‘About…’ He gestured to the cane.

‘Don’t you dare pity me,’ she said through her teeth. ‘I hate it.’

‘I wasn’t. I just want to know what you’ve been through. And not from some kind of morbid curiosity either. You’ll forgive my bleeding heart if I hate seeing my friends in pain.’

‘It’s not good form to ask these things,’ said Astarion tersely. ‘But then you always were incredibly intelligent and breathtakingly stupid, Gale.’

Tav almost laughed, a single huff of air from her mouth. ‘Sure, I’ll tell you. But remember you asked.’ Dimly aware the camp had quieted, and her audience was beyond the wizard and the elf, she spoke to the flames. ‘I was born too early for anyone to expect me to survive. My lungs didn’t function, there was a stutter in my heartbeat, internal bleeding on the brain, all that. I had some necrosis and blacklung and even spotted plague, all at once could you believe it? I should’ve been dead five times over. I was put through my paces. I don’t know how or why I made it and sometimes I wish I hadn’t. But I did. And I got to grow up.’ A bitter edge crept into her voice. ‘And then something happened to me later, some people happened to me, and now I’m in pain all the time. It never goes away. I can manage it, on a good day, with rest and the odd spell. Potions don't work for me at all. I can’t do too much though, you see.’ Her face hardened. ‘Because the god who refused to let me die was Ilmater. My suffering is divine. I can’t even walk away because I owe him my very existence. How does a baby bargain with a god like that? So I push on. I endure, because I must.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Gale. ‘I empathise, believe me.’

‘Right,’ Tav said, voice softening a little bit. ‘The orb.’

He nodded. ‘Still. Self inflicted. It’s different.’

‘Yeah.’

‘If I’d known…’ he continued.

‘You wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing about it and you can’t now,’ she snapped. ‘I appreciate it Gale, I really do, but this is just my life. And now we have these things.’ Jabbing her finger at her forehead she set her jaw in determination. ‘I’ve been through worse. Doubtless we all have. We’re going to win this fight. We don’t have a choice.’

‘Hear hear,’ said Karlach softly.

‘You deserve more credit,’ said Astarion. ‘You’re strong.’

‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘I don’t want to be though. I want to be soft. I want to rest.’

‘You don’t have to do this alone,’ said Wyll, sitting across the fire from her. ‘You have us now.’ His smile was so gentle it broke her heart.

‘Your endurance is admirable,’ said Lae’zel, sitting on Astarion’s other side.

‘For once I agree with you, Lae’zel.’ Shadowheart stayed back from the fire until Karlach grabbed her wrist and plonked her down next to her.

‘Any spells or potions you need, I’ve got you,’ said Gale. ‘It’s the least I can do given you helped me with my condition.’

‘Sweet as that is Gale, perhaps you could start with dinner? Karlach’s stomach is snarling like an angry bugbear,’ said Astarion lightly.

‘I saw that archdruid whittling in the grove earlier,’ said Shadowheart. ‘Maybe he could make you a new cane.’

Tav looked down at the cane in her lap. It was crudely hewn and splintered; she’d done it herself. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Yeah, maybe I should ask him.’

#chronically ill tav #mine #personal

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novarex · 1 year

Text

Thoughts on Nere

Ugh, look at his pretty white eyelashes. I just want to smoosh his face.

I have a lot of thoughts regarding Nere and how he could have gotten where he is by the time we see him. @lysblack has started a really excellent conversation I would like to expand on. For science.

So may I present a somewhat lengthy analysis (rambling thoughts) of Nere, based on comments of other characters, what we know, and my reading of the Drizzt Do'Urdon books that go deeply into Menzoberranzan and life there.

Warning - this is long

Let's start with when we meet Nere.

Before we meet him, we meet the duergar, who have some things to say - Morgal is the one asking if you and the other duergar are "plowing", and from Corsair Greymon asking if "the Sargent has choked on True Soul Nere's prick". I do think that the duergar here are just generally vulgar and probably don't have much respect for anyone, but they are definitely getting to the end of their patience with Nere. They are mostly hired mercenaries with at least one believer in the Absolute among them (Sargent Thrinn). Something to note here is that duergar are a race of dwarves that were experimented on an changed by Mind Flayers and later escaped, that is why they have psionic powers, you can connect to them without them having a tadpole, and they have a special nose for True Souls because they can literally smell the parasite in you.

When you move down to the cave in area where Nere is trapped and Thrinn and her crew are trying to dig him out, you can talk to Nere through the rubble. He is literally suffocating to death on the poison that is filling the room, and obviously panicking - he thinks he is going to die in that room and I don't blame him. In his eyes (and any Lolthsworn drow), the people that are supposed to be rescuing him are just about the worst case scenario - they are inferior, disloyal, stupid, and unlikely to succeed. Like Minthara, I am sure he would MUCH rather have drow coming to rescue him than mercenary duergar and slave deep gnomes. On that note, he even is quick to tell you, another True Soul, not to trust the duergar mercenaries.

I also want to take a moment to say that no matter what we think of his behavior, Nere has to be under an absolute unbearably high amounts of pressure at this point - he is failing in his mission, he is stuck in the rubble that is quickly filling with gas, with wildly unreliable help. Like this is peak desperation. He is lashing out in anger and fear in any way he can. I think our Tav showing up is probably the only thread of hope he has to cling on to. Even Gale recognizes how bad of a situation Nere is in.

When you push into Nere's mind at the rubble and see through his eyes while he is suffocating to death in the cave in, the narrator makes a point to say that he had killed a gnome with powerful magic. He probably went to Sorcere (school for magic) in Menzoberranzan (although it is possible he isn't from Menzo).

Most noble drow have a natural talent for magic (breeding throughout the centuries), but sometimes commoners have the talent for it too. Sorcere is almost exclusively men because women with any talent for magic go to Arach-Tinilith, the school for drow priestesses. Male drow can also go to the school for fighting, Melee-Magthere (Drizzt went here), and they do spend one year at the end of their training in Sorcere learning some magic.

The reason I don't think Nere is a noble is that he would have certainly let us know if he were, especially if you are playing as a drow (I play as a drow female). This could just be an oversight in the writing, but I don't think so. When you fight the spectator over where the petrified drow are, if you manage not to get Dhourn the wizard killed and talk to him (disguise yourself as a female drow if you don't play as one and you can bully him into giving you his research and not have to kill him), he immediately lets you know he is the third boy of house Ba'Tol. In everything else I have experienced, drow are quick to name drop their house. It is extremely important in Lolthsworn society.

Nere is probably a commoner with enough magic talent to go to the school. All drow have a little magic to some degree, but to really learn it you have to go to Sorcere. There are few things you can do as a male in Memzoberranzan that give you any sort of status besides "useless male", and wizard/sorcerer is one. I suppose it is possible he is of noble birth, but I really think he would have let us know.

In Sorcere he would have spent most of his time around other males, as Sorcere is a 30 year long school (unlike Melee-Magthere which is 10), and exclusively male, which could explain why a female hadn't absolutely killed the shit out of him yet. The occasional priestesses from Arach-Tinilith would be around, but I think he could manage to be fine.

Nere certainly has an attitude to match with having gone to Sorcere. Some of his reactions, like blaming others for failures, are actually VERY cultural and expected among Lolthsworn drow. It just tracks. It would be strange if he didn't. He would have, however, faced constant criticism, bullying, sabotage, and crappy backstabbing politics within his time there, so it makes sense that he would have some emotional baggage regarding failure. Pretty much all male drow do to some extent. Even if he didn't have to deal too much with daily subjugation by female drow, he would still have faced a lot of scrutiny from other males in Sorcere. Failure of any kind is extremely dangerous in Lolthsworn society, especially for men.

I don't think his failure necessarily comes from him being bad at things. He has really good stats, so he isn't weak at all. He is also physically very strong. He is taller than both Gale and Astarion. The top of my female drow's head comes up to his chin (as opposed to Astarion and Gale where the top of her head is about dead center on theirs). He is also clearly intended to be intimidating. He has the Muscular feature as well as High Spellcasting - so he is big, strong, and good with magic. Wisdom is his lowest stat, and that could be the source of his problems in life. Strangely, he has really high charisma... but I will get to that shortly.

Anyway, back to the Grymforge. Before you bust him out of the rubble, talk to Thrinn, then go talk to the two drow who want to betray Nere, go back and talk to Thrinn and let her know they are planning to betray him. She doesn't seem particularly concerned with Nere's ability to handle them.

I think it is reasonable to assume that Nere is not a total fuckup. I think he has a lot of talent and strengths, but is either unlucky or unwise, or some combination of both. He has enough intelligence and strength to be powerful, and enough charisma to persuade people, but not enough wisdom and insight to know when to shut up or walk away... or when he is in over his head.

I do think he is unwise... there are some indications that he constantly underestimates what he is up against. This could be from lack of experience or this is just a character flaw.

Baby boy, what about any of this is simple? Please. You should have known better.

He is trying so hard here to convince himself that things are going to work out, but you can here it in his voice that he is trying to believe it. He must think that we are surely powerful enough to speak to Ketheric and convince him that Nere is still worthy. He is lacking the appropriate wisdom and insight to really accept what has happened.

We know from talking to Minthara that the influence of the Absolute is extremely overpowering and overrides any of your own common sense. It turns you into a fanatic and forces you to do things you would never ever do if you had control of yourself. This would also be true of Nere. He has this wild fanaticism and desperation to please Ketheric and the Absolute, but he drops it IMMEDIATELY when you fill him in on what is really going on. Once he is free of the brain's power and sees the bigger puncture, there is a very strong shift in his attitude.

He becomes very reasonable and quickly puts two and two together. This is probably the first time ever in his life where he is free of cult influence - if you convince him to run from the Absolute (and also I assume Lolth, because dear god he CAN NOT go back there without being tortured to death for information and then killed or worse, turned into a drider for his sins against Lolth)... and it does seem like he has a lot to process.

He is actually very calm and grateful for what you have done for him. It is such a shame you can't drag him around with you.

I am also not sure if it is an oversight in writing, or if Nere loses control of his mind again once we leave the area, or if he is just so pissed off at Balthazar and Ketheric and the whole ordeal that he goes after Balthazar to try and mess everything up for the Absolute by sabotaging the Nightsong plot.... but it is just such a shame that he dies anyway. I would like to think it is just a gap in writing because the game is SO HUGE.

If he is wiling to potentially die for a cause, what better cause than getting revenge on the people who did this to him? What better hook to get him to join our party and quest to destroy the Absolute and rid ourselves of the parasite? I think this is a huge missed opportunity.

LET ME DO IT, LARIAN. AGHHHH. LET ME SAVE HIM.

As far as how he became an exile/rogue, because I really do think he was.... (previous post on this)... I think there are a few possibilities, and we have absolute no indication as to what they could have been.

So this is pure speculation with nothing to back it up on my part. Here are a list of reasons he could have resulted in him being separated from Lolthite society.

Was out on some kind of mission and failed, couldn't go back without risk of severe punishment or death.

Separated from expedition to the surface (for slaves, or supplies, or whatever) either through no fault of his own or because he was unwise.

Attempted to kill someone and failed, fled. Probably while they were away from the city.

There was an attempt on his life that failed and he fled. Probably also while they were away from the city.

Was scouting or part of an expedition for a noble house that was annihilated while they were away. Nothing to return to without risking being killed.

I don't think he was some matriarch's special pet, because there is a certain level of obedience a reverence for female drow he would need to have to not be killed. His attitude is way off to have been some matron or priestess's favorite. Sure he is hot, but most drow are hot, so the standards for "too hot to be killed" are way too high for that to have been it. There are plenty of dead hot drow men.

I think it is likely that he made some mistakes that led to him not being able to go back for fear of death. I also think that when he mentions going to the Order of Soul Spiders, that is just him being unwise and not thinking the whole thing thorough. Like baby boy, you are going to be destroyed once the hear what you have to say. Sure, they will want to know it, but you are NOT going to escape punishment for abandoning Lolth. That isn't a possibility. Think it through.

Ok wow this post got too long and way out of hand. Nere is my current hyperfixation, and I hope that at least two of you share this hyperfixation with me and found this worth reading.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

#nere #bg3 #true soul nere

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letters-from-dekarios · 6 months

Text

a blind date with a wizard

summary: you’ve been lonely, your friends noticed, and decided to drag you to a tavern in waterdeep to go on a blind date with their wizard friend who you’ve never met. what in all of faerún could happen?

or: you go on a blind date with gale of waterdeep

word count: 4k

tags: gale x implied f!reader/afab!reader, fluff, mildly medium burn, alcohol usage, astarion and shart are also there, and also wyll is your ex

Okay, you had to admit it. You were lonely. You hadn’t had a date with someone in months and your vibe was seriously bringing down the mood of your brunches with your friend Astarion. The vampire had threatened to bite you if you wouldn’t stop droning on about how sad and lonely you were.

It’s not that you were unhappy with being single. You didn’t mind it! Singleness meant late-night tavern dives and staying out until the sun rose over the hills again. Singleness was freedom, and freedom was.. well, it’s in the name: freeing. You liked being single, for a while. And then you’d become all too aware of how cold your bed was by yourself, how quiet your house was during the day, how you missed having someone— anyone there for you.

You had that with Wyll Ravengard. He was your first love in a long time. He was sweet, and caring, he listened to all your worries and anxieties whenever you became troubled. You often found yourself longing for him whenever he was away, wishing upon the stars that he’d come home safely.

And then he broke up with you. It was messy. Maybe it was the luskan wine he’d had too much of. Maybe it was his father’s cold words getting to his head. Maybe it was the stress of being connected to that family name. Whatever it was, when it went down, it wasn’t pretty. You resented him for all he said and did that night, and somehow, some part of you still longed for him.

“I’m setting you up with someone,” Astarion told you sternly one afternoon.

“What?” You couldn’t believe your pointed ears. He had no right over your love life! How dare he!

“I am so over you droning on and on, every day about Wyll. He found someplace else to sheathe his dagger, it’s about time you do the same.” Astarion replied pointedly, his sharp eyes glaring at you. He was done hearing about your ex.

“Ast-“

“No, I positively do not want to hear it. I could drain your blood to the point of death and somehow you’d find a way to make it about Wyll. You were too good for him and you should start proving that.” You weren’t going down without a fight on this, and Astarion would first rather go back to Cazador than lose to you if it came down to it. The case was open and shut, almost immediately.

A few weeks went by with little being brought up on the subject. You had hoped he’d forgotten about it and the world could move on, but you were sorely mistaken. All of a sudden you were seated in front of Astarion and Shadowheart; clothes were laid out all around you, and makeup and hair accessories were next being dumped on any table they could find.

“It really is such a pity you have to go around with this face every day,” Astarion clicked his tongue softly, crossing his arms over his chest. You had the right of mind to kick him had Shadowheart not jumped into the situation.

“Let’s not be so harsh. It’s definitely workable.” Shadowheart, though essentially equally as harsh, had a kinder inflection to her voice that comforted you. Somewhat.

Three hours and seventeen outfit changes later, you were finally (gods you hoped) done. Astarion and Shadowheart had to step back to admire their work. Your hair was done in intricate braids, flowing down your back and around your head. They put you in a form-fitting dress that came just to your knees, it was a deep, royal blue color that emphasized your features perfectly. The dress was embroidered along the sides and the deep v-neck collar in gold, twisting vines and flowers adding to your magnificence. They added simple, yet effective, gold earrings and a necklace that brought the entire thing together. And, of course, they couldn’t forget the heels.

You were an entirely different person. Visually, at least.

“Not too bad of a job, I’d say,” Shadowheart noted, confident in her and Astarion’s work.

“It’s an upgrade.” Astarion nodded in agreement.

“You guys are just downright mean, you know that?” You cocked an eyebrow at them, crossing your arms with a look of annoyance on your face.

“And yet you love us all the same,” Astarion gave a faux-sweet smile towards you, widening his eyes like a little puppy.

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t,” You retorted, rolling your eyes at the two of them and their smug expressions.

About a half hour later, they were leaving you behind to go get wasted at another tavern “nearby”. Though you knew that wasn’t true, and they’d be far gone by the time you’d leave this ‘blind date’, you placed a false hope in them regardless. Besides, all you had to do was show up, talk a little, escape to the bathroom, and then shimmy your way out the window! You’d be fine. Right?

Right?

You tugged at the hem of your dress, pulling it down more, which only showed off your cleavage more so you had to pull down your dress again. It was a horrid cycle of feeling way too exposed out in the open, yet you also felt… bold. Was that right? In this skimpy outfit, so out of your own body, you felt bold. It’s crazy what the energy of a popular tavern does to a person.

“Um.. hello?” You walked up to the bartender, trying to remember the name of the man you were looking for. Gale Dekarios. Such an… interesting name, you thought to yourself. The only thing Astarion told you about him was that he was a wizard. You wondered if he meant that literally or sexually— well, you’d find out soon enough!

“What can I get for you, lady?” The bartender asked, and you became mesmerized by his flaming eyes for a moment. Gods, you were desperate to do anything other than go on this date.

“Oh, uh, nothing right now! I’m looking for a guy.. his name’s Gale? I was supposed to meet him here tonight..” You smiled awkwardly, rubbing your left thumb against your right palm to alleviate the anxiety you felt. The boldness you had walking in had quickly faded away as soon as you realized you’d actually have to interact with this man. Can you pray to all of Faerún to make you disappear? Please?

“I might’ve seen a guy come in with that name. Said he was looking for someone named y/n, that you?” The bartender asked, looking over you carefully. Was he checking you out? No… Ugh! Focus on the blind date for Faerún’s sake!

“Yes! Yes. That’s me. Can you point me in his direction?” You requested, smiling sweetly at him. Maybe you could say he didn’t show up! Then go home now! That would work, right?

“He’s over in the back corner booth. You’ll know him when you see him,” he pointed in the direction Gale was in, sending you off towards the blind date you did not want to be on.

Halfway through, your walk to the booth turned to a stride, and then soon you found yourself sauntering over, swaying your hips as the music from the band infused you with confidence. By the time you spotted the gentleman who, as the bartender said, looked like a Gale, you were fully into the swing of your old dating self. Kind of. The dating self that told people no, at least. Look, all you had to do was let him down easy, convincing him you were just too good for him. Easy!

“Gale Dekarios?” You asked, sliding into the seat across from the man.

“Y/n?” He replied, raising an eyebrow at you as you entered into his space. You studied his face, the short beard he had, the way his hair was neatly parted down the center. You listened closely to his voice, the accent, and the inflection he had in his words. You wanted to memorize him in case Astarion asked you questions later.

“It’s my pleasure,” Gale grinned at you and you could see why Astarion picked him of all people. Maybe he’d make a nice rebound.

“Look…” You began, but Gale cut you off with a raise of his hand. He shook his head slightly, a knowing smile on his face.

“Please, spare me the condolences. I don’t want to be here as much as I’m sure you don’t. But, that pale creature of a man somehow convinced me, I’m sure not by my own means, to go on what he called a date. For my own sake, and yours, I think we can keep this rather simple, can’t we?” He inquired of you, sympathetic to both of your situations.

And, despite the fact you had wanted to up and leave only moments prior, you now felt attached to him. You cursed Astarion for putting you with him.

“Oh my gods, you read my mind!” You breathed out a sigh of relief, shifting your expression to match your words. “I’m sure you’re a lovely man, but I just ended a relationship pretty roughly and I’m not sure I’m ready to do.. all of this, you know? Astarion is lovely for thinking of me to do this but I mean… really.” You trailed off, gesturing with your hands to what Gale already expected.

“Believe me, I know. Astarion can’t shut up about you. I do feel bad for your situation, but I don’t think I’m the best… fit for you,” he smiled, that sympathetic smile, and something inside you twitched. Was this a blind date only for you? What did he mean that Astarion talked about you? To him?

“Wait.. what?” You laughed awkwardly, a smile coming across your face and fading immediately. “What did Astarion tell you about me? He told you about my ex? This was supposed to be a blind date, right?” Your eyebrows furrowed together, confused and embarrassed.

“A blind date?” Gale chuckled softly, shaking his head as he took a sip from a glass you’d only just realized was there. Maybe you should’ve ordered something from that bartender. Maybe your face wouldn’t be as red as it was, and maybe you wouldn’t be visibly angry with your only friend since your breakup.

“I’m sorry, I was under the impression Astarion had given you a once-over about myself, as well?” He noticed your expression change and pursed his lips, nodding in understanding. “I see..” he sucked in a breath through his teeth, running a hand through his hair. How was he to approach this situation now?

“You mean to tell me Astarion told you all about me, my ex, and my recent situation… and then tried to set me up with you as if this was a blind date?” Annoyance laced your words, resentment creeping over them like a thief trying to steal your peace. Was this part of his plan? To trick you? You felt stupid for believing him.

“I was not informed this was a—“

“No, obviously you weren’t informed. What the hells did Astarion tell you?” You demanded to know. It wasn’t a question, you needed to save your image from Astarion’s grimy hold.

“Well, you see-“

You cut him off again, only to raise a hand to get a waiter’s attention. You ordered a drink, something strong, and then let him continue. You crossed your arms over your chest defiantly, eyebrows furrowed together with frustration. Gale paused for a moment, made sure he could continue, and then spoke once more.

“You see… Astarion spoke of a friend of.. sorts that might be to my liking. I, of course, asked some questions and he was more than willing to answer them. He spoke only good of you, I swear on my mother’s grave- which I never do, by the way. He happened to bring up exes and, well, the discussion got rolling and I asked about your case.”

Your nose turned up as you thought about being perceived in such a way that your friends would talk about you. Good or bad, it flipped your stomach to know that you were a topic of conversation for someone.

“He told me how you had just gotten out of a relationship with Wyll Ravengard. That it was rough, to say the least. There weren’t many details, but the picture was painted quite clearly.” Gale clarified, trying to soothe your mind about what Astarion spoke about you.

You could only dream of what you’d do when you saw him again… he was certainly in for it once you caught up together.

“That’s it?” You questioned, thanking the waiter who dropped your drink off.

“That’s it.”

Oh. Maybe what Astarion discussed wasn’t so alarming after all. That didn’t mean you weren’t still irate, though. He had lied to you about going on a blind date. Here you were, sat in front of a man you knew nothing about, while he practically had your whole life story! How unfair was that?

“I’m still mad at him.”

“I can tell.”

The smirk on Gale’s face was enough to break your outrage, even momentarily. You sighed heavily, pushed some hair out of your face, and took a long drink from your cup.

“I reckon we should get our stories straightened out so that we can answer any queries he’ll ask us, yes?” Gale proposed, tilting his glass to you.

“I suppose,” you replied, clinking the rim of your glass against his. You hesitated, though, once again feeling exposed- but in a different manner.

“I think it’s only fair you tell me how you ended up here on this not-so-blind date, considering how much you know about me already,” you added on, leaning back more comfortably in the booth.

Gale thought for a moment, before raising his hands in surrender. He thought the same as you, and he was willing to provide the information you pursued to feel level with you.

He went on to tell you about his life, becoming a wizard and dedicating himself to the Mother of the Weave- Mystra. Mystra sounded lovely, at first, until things went south and Gale was left, much like you, alone in the grand scheme of the world. You felt bad for him, your breakup with Wyll feeling a lot less dramatic now that it was in comparison to his. Who breaks up with a literal Goddess? Gale Dekarios, apparently. Maybe you could get along better than you thought.

“Wait wait wait-“ you paused him halfway through a sentence, waving your hand to shush him. You were three drinks in now and you could feel yourself becoming more relaxed by the moment. Time had flown by, it felt, the moon fully over the bar and shining in from any open windows.

“You’re telling me you can project yourself into the Weave and have sex with someone? But, like, not actual sex?” You asked, laughing your little head off at what the wizard was telling you. Honest to the gods, you never could quite understand wizards. You had your magic passed down to you, sure, but wizards? They were their own breed of people.

“It’s an intertwining of souls, not sex. Not entirely, that is,” he answered, laughing along with you. His smile was gorgeous, and the way he chuckled at your comments made you feel all warm inside. Or maybe it was the wine talking, you didn’t know.

“Do you want to get out of here?” You invited abruptly, pushing some hair out of your face.

“I’m sorry?” The look of confusion on his face was almost priceless, causing you to giggle softly.

“Not like that! Gods no. I’m just getting tired of sitting here,” you responded, moving away your final empty glass. If you had any more than that you might not make it home at all.

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt. There’s a beautiful spot by a lake not too distant from here, would you like to go there?” He asked, sliding out of the booth and offering you his hand.

You took his hand, nodding at the question. Soon enough, you were sat on the edge of a clear lake, watching the water rush around the stones and the occasional fish swim past. Now in a quiet, secluded area, you had more room to think. What was Astarion’s purpose in setting you both up like this? It made no sense to you that he’d tell Gale one thing, and you another.

Yes, you were getting along just fine. Telling each other stories about yourselves, Astarion, your adventures. But that didn't stop you from feeling some sense of unease, not knowing Astarion’s true intentions behind this.

“I have to ask..” You looked over at Gale, leaning back on your hands in the grass. The moonlight crossed your faces here and there as a gentle breeze swayed the trees encircling you. It was soothing, almost, even if the night hadn’t gone nearly how you had anticipated it. To be next to someone you had some common ground with, and sharing a moment like this was.. nice. Nonsexual, you’d tell yourself, but nice.

“Go on,” Gale encouraged, meeting your gaze with soft recognition of your ease with him.

“You could’ve told Astarion no to meeting with me, considering all you knew. So why didn’t you?”

Gale paused, realizing the predicament he had placed himself in. He was so worried and so frightened of being hurt again that despite the fact he had agreed to meet with you, he turned you down. Astarion spoke so highly of you all the time, he had become terrified that, if anything worked out, he would do something to have it all come crashing back down. Again.

“I guess some part of me wanted to see how this would all play out in the end,” he confessed, allowing himself to be truthful with you. You could feel the anxiety, the tension in his words. He was afraid of being this vulnerable, it was clear, but he was choosing to be anyway. It was admirable in a way.

“I guess that’s why I came here, too,” You replied, nodding your head slightly as you looked up at the stars. You were glad you had been forced into it, even though you would’ve much rather stayed home and cried your heart out. “I contemplated jumping out the bathroom window at one point,” you laughed.

“Do you think he planned this all out?” Gale asked, chuckling to himself at the thought. Astarion was oftentimes wiser than he gave him credit for. He could have very well planned this out so well that you’d end up bonding over your irritation with him.

“Absolutely. I’m also definitely still mad at him, but I can’t say it didn’t work.” You laughed with Gale, moving ever so slightly closer to him. With the gentle breeze passing through, you could simply blame it on being cold.

“I didn’t anticipate it working,” Gale added, moving closer to you, too.

He smelled like a library. Earthy, woody tones stirred around you, inviting you into him. You accepted the invitation, making note of the hints of vanilla- sweet, but not overwhelming. The closer you got, the more attributes you acknowledged about him. It was more than just surface-level distinction, now, but a desire to know him- for all that he was.

He had been a gentleman the whole evening, not overlooking your frustrations or feeding into the embarrassment. He worked with you, not against you, and exchanged in meaningful conversation that wasn’t entirely about him. He already knew of you, and yet he still got to know you.

You vowed to never let Astarion know he was right.

“Y/n,” Gale called, breaking you from your thoughts about him. You realized you’d been staring at him, a stupid partial smile on your face while you indulged in the fantasy of him.

“I’d like to get to know you better before you start throwing the ‘kiss me’ eyes at me,” he joked, noting your expression that you quickly changed as you looked away.

“Oh shush, you,” You nudged him in the arm gently, your face becoming hot with his words.

“While I would love to, ‘shushing’ is not exactly my finest quality.”

“It makes more and more sense you’re a wizard with everything you say.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“You’ll find out.”

The two of you laughed softly at the banter, letting yourselves bask in the silence of the cool night. You wondered where this string would take you if you pulled on it— would it lead to him? Or would it end in a fiery disaster like both of your lasts? You almost didn’t want to try it, but this little voice inside you urged you on. It convinced you that, maybe- just maybe, there was something promising to find here. Maybe something even better than that.

“Gale…” you started, breaking the short silence you were enjoying.

“I know.” He answered softly, feeling the same as you. How could he let you go now that he had you? Astarion was right, you were everything. You were the light he had been searching for for so long, and now that he had you there was no chance in all the realms that he was going to shut it off. Why would he? He despised Astarion’s trickery but had to give him credit for leading you both to the sanctuary you each needed.

“Not tonight, of course, but…”

“I know.”

He always knew. You read each other like the back of your hands even though you had just met. You matched each other’s energy in a way nobody else had. It was like fate led you to one another- and who can argue with fate?

“It’s getting late— and if you say ‘I know’ one more time I’m kicking you,” you joked, beginning to stand, “I enjoyed this. Even though I didn’t want to.”

Gale stood after you, extending his arm towards you to take. You did, and he began leading you both out of the area and back to the city. “I enjoyed this as well, y/n. And, perhaps, if you’d let me…”

He trailed off, and you squeezed his arm in recognition of what he meant. He wanted to do this again. You wanted to do this again.

“I’d love to,” you answered the question he hadn’t even asked, smiling up at him.

The rest of the walk back was quiet but in a comforting kind of way. Not awkward, not weird, just a nice.. nice quiet, knowing you would see each other again soon and would have many more things to discuss.

Gale walked you all the way home, like the gentleman he was, and wished you a good night and sweet dreams.

“Ah, I must not forget..” Gale paused, extending his hand towards you. You placed one of yours in his, and he bowed his head to place a kiss against the back of it. Your face flushed, and you nearly wanted him to stay the rest of the night with you.

“I’ll be seeing you again soon, yes?” He asked, letting your hand go as he stood straight once more. His eyes had little reservation in what he meant about that, and your answer fueled the fire behind them.

“Yes.” It was a simple answer, but one he looked forward to hearing. “Thank you, by the way. For tonight,” you added on.

“It was my pleasure,” Gale replied before he was finally off for his own home.

You returned into your own, giddy from the high and excitement this new chapter brought you. That was quickly replaced with anger as you saw Astarion, smugly waiting for you by a fire he had curated.

“Astarion!”

You had a lot to discuss with him.

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astarionapologist · 9 months

Text

Hello everyone!

I was sorting out some songs to add to some of your guy’s playlists and I ran into an old favorite of mine. The song is called “O Sol e a Lua” and it’s about the sun’s love for the moon and how he wishes to propose to her. However the moon rejects the sun only because if she were to say yes the Sun would explode out of happiness and excitement destroying themselves and all the planets around them. However the moon “rejects” him in a way that doesn’t give the sun a clear answer (saying no would cause everyone to freeze to death due to the suns heartbreak). How eventually in the end the moon either waits for the moon to be ready or the sun moves on. (depending on how you look at the lyrics this can change) anyways sorry for the rant! Hope you enjoy!

I love you like the sun

Gale x fem!reader (Angst)

Prompt: In this AU gales emotions impact his control on his condition. Accepting and denying his confession both will increase the risk of gale exploding (Kaboom </3 ). So the reader and Gale are in a sad hopeless romantic standstill.

Also there are lyrics in this fic, the English meaning will be underneath it!

warnings: None other then just sadness :(

To the best of his recollection, Gale held you in high regard. He admired your courage and heroism during your shared adventures. His heart was filled with pride when he witnessed your selfless deeds, and he was convinced that your tales of bravery would become legendary throughout Faerûn.

Over time, the initial feeling of pride grew into something more. He recalled a moment during a battle when he noticed something strange and unusual. He realized that he wasn't just cheering you on in the fight as he always used to, but he was also admiring the way your hair gracefully clung to your face and the subtle blush on your cheeks. Each tired breath you took made his heart skip a beat in admiration of you. Gods he realized he’s fallen for you.

Days turn it weeks and weeks turn to months and he still can't get you out of his mind, he needs you, to hold you, so see you smile at him and only him. His emotions are only getting stronger day by day and soon enough he knows he should just tell you how he feels. he trusts himself to handle it… He can.. can he? He’s a powerful wizard who’s had multiple pupils through the years, a couple of silly feelings surely wouldn’t hurt…right?

You've noticed Gale's eyes wandering on your figure from time to time. His long, lost stares leave deep holes in your heart. You know better than anyone that this simply can't work out. You've seen it yourself. Curiously, you conjured up a spell that allowed you to see what lay ahead on your journey. However, all you saw was destruction. Your friends were dead, your body burning, and your beloved was gone. It's clear to you that this relationship is not meant to be. It was impossible, having this relationship would be selfish and more so careless. You hid your feelings away in order to protect everyone, to protect yourself, to protect him.

Eventually, however, he gains the courage to finally ask you. To release himself of his deep-rooted feelings for you. He carefully struts right up to you, a small crystallized flower in hand created by his magic, and quietly asks you if you are busy. You look at him a tad confused and say “No? What is it you need?” You let that bit of confusion fill your words concerned something must have happened. However, your face is filled with shock as you listen to his words.

"In our shared journey I have realized something… these months have woven a tapestry of beauty and treasured moments. Your bravery, selflessness, and unwavering commitment to what's right are unlike any I've encountered. I've become accustomed to your presence, and the thought of a journey without you is beyond my imagination."

He takes a small shaky breath and holds up the small crystallized rose he created with his magic then continues…

"My affection for you has surged, much like the untamed flora that sprawls across Faerûn. Just as this manifestation, my love is unwavering, a lasting force entwined with the weave, enduring beyond my mortal days. It may sound self-indulgent, yet if you'd accept, my gratitude would know no bounds."

“To put it simply… I love you… and I would love nothing more than for you to be mine..”

Your heart stops… then shatters…a small part of you has wished you have been wrong. That what you felt was wrong and what you saw in your spell was wrong…. This can’t be you think to yourself… you know as much as it pains you… you can’t accept.

“I don’t know….”

“You…… don’t know?”

“I don’t know if I can do this now I mean… we’re right in the middle of our journey and perhaps falling in love is something we can’t do… just yet.”

“Ah... Your words ring with truth. I understand and shall trouble you no more, my dear lady. I value your input, and perhaps at another time, our paths may intertwine more favorably.”

His expression looks peaceful, but in the blink of an eye, he departs, leaving your body trembling and your heart in a frenzied rush. Despite the yearning for him to be yours, you know it would simply cost too much… the risk was all too great, You know you would have to release him unwillingly.

Weeks passed, and unsurprisingly, he hadn't given up. He's persistently asked you out, his heart still yearning to be yours. Going beyond mere words, he intensifies his efforts—training rigorously to ease your worries about enemies, assisting in meal preparation to alleviate your stress, and diligently tending to your wounds after battles, ensuring your safety by his side.

Despite your intense desire to have him by your side constantly growing you know you have to shut down any of these emotions. As much as you yearn for him, the harsh reality denies it. Your heart aches with pain and sorrow, acknowledging that your love was never fated. However strong the craving, you find yourself willing to endure hunger if it ensures protecting his life.

You were currently in such deep thought about everything regarding both Gale and your difficult and long journey. You had finally made it out of the shadow-cursed land and had set up camp only a couple miles away from Rivington.

Just then you felt a gentle hand touch your shoulder, you turned to see him. Your heart skipped a beat but slowly sank… you knew why he was here. You looked into his sad longing eyes and watched as his mouth opened up.

O sol pediu a lua em casamento

(The Sun proposed to the Moon)

“My dear lady… I am more then aware you know why I currently stand before you. For I will and forever more will be willing to spill my heart out for you until you decide I am either yours or a simple stone within your path. For you are the only one I care and truly love… when I’m with you I truly forget my goddess. When I’m with you I feel no need to cling to the past, when I’m with you I believe I have a future.

E a lua disse…

( And the moon said…)

You turn your head away unable to look at him, he grabs your face and forces you to look at him. His rosy cheeks glow in the moonlight, his lips form a tight line across his face as he is full of concern and nerves.

Não sei, não sei, não sei

( I don't know! I don't know! I don't know!)

“I don’t know… I don’t know.”

Gale backs up a bit to give you space. He pauses before speaking again.

“I see.. it’s okay I understand you’re not ready.. and that’s okay…” He takes a small pause to recollect himself “it’s okay that… you might not be for awhile now?”

Me dá um tempo

(Give me a break!)

“No Gale… not for a long time. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Believe me, it's more than okay. I can wait, i’ll wait months, years, decades if you’d allow me… Just don't forget about me. I’ll always be here, no matter where you are or what you’re doing I’m here.”

He gets ready to turn around and walk away before he stops to turn and say “Goodnight… my dear lady”

Then he continues to walk off, leaving a small faint trail of sadness behind him.

The moment you were completely alone you crumpled to your knees. Letting tearful sobs escape beneath the moonlight as you fervently prayed to any listening deity, pleading for the salvage of your shattered heart. In your world, Gale is the sun, and your deepest desire was to be his moon. Yet, fate deemed you not even a star in his galaxy.

God I hope there’s no errors in here… but oh well-

Anyways hope you all enjoyed whatever my little brain decided to spit out 🫶

#Spotify #baulders gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 blogging #bg3 tav #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #gale #gale x tav #gale x reader #baldurs gate gale #gale romance #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #angst #bg3 angst #gale angst #gale dekarios

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thedeviltohisangel · 4 months

Note

I MUST SEE CASS X BUCKY FOR NUMBER 23 !!!??!1?11!!!! THEN MY LIFE WILL BE COMPLETE /lh

INJURY PROMPT BLURB ERA

11. “I’m going to lift you up, okay? Tell me if it hurts.”

23. “You dumbass. Don’t do that. Ever again.”

more forced march for the girlies this wednesday night xoxo

John doesn't think he even closed his eyes, let alone slept. His focus was trained on his wife's chest. Making sure it continued to rise and fall. Making sure her hand was gripped tightly between his. Making sure breaths continued to puff out of her lips as she slept against his chest.

He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to fix this. Gale had made it over the wall, made it to freedom. Cass was supposed to be right behind him. Cass was supposed to have made it out. If anyone didn't, it was supposed to be John. The two people he loved most in this world were supposed to be safe and secure and on their way back to England. Instead, he was holding the barely conscious body of his wife, an angry welt on her hip from where he had burned her skin closed, and her blood stained on his hands.

When the guards came storming over and yelled that is was time to get up and get moving again, she showed no signs of waking.

"Cass, baby, we've got to get up. We've got to get you up." He palmed at her cheek gently and her eyes opened then closed. "I'm going to lift you up, okay? Tell me if it hurts." He moved his arm to sit her up gently and she grabbed his jacket with a barely constrained scream.

"John, no...it hurts, stop, please, stop." She was panting into the side of his neck, a cold sweat on her forehead, as he paused his attempts to move her. The other 100th men were lurking towards the back of the group, waiting for John and Cass, the rest of the prisoners slowly meandering in the direction they were being ordered in. "I can't. I can't walk like this." The searing pain in her side was radiating through her back and legs. She was paralyzed by the burning sensation.

"Hambone!"

"Yes, Major?" He came running over.

"No matter what she fucking says, you help me lift her up. I'm going to carry her the rest of the way."

"Bucky-" Crank started.

"What are my other options, huh? I sit here and hold my wife as she freezes to death?" He was getting her out of this. No matter what it cost him.

Wordlessly, Hambone held Cass up, her head lolling onto his shoulder, her teeth drawing blood from her lip as John stood and lifted her to his chest.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled as he walked forwards slowly. Every step sent a tinge of pain through her hip. "I shouldn't have come."

"We'll talk about it later. When we get home." He thinks it was a tear he felt against his neck but he didn't say anything about it.

"Just tell me I'm a dumbass. Tell me you hate me. Please just get it over with." John had been so strict in keeping his distance from her. Had been cold and uninviting and the opposite of the man she had married in London. She had come here to save him but instead had ruined him. Ruined the relationship they had built. Cass was positive she would no longer be returning home with John on her arm. If she returned home at all. "Let me down. I'm feeling better." She pushed at his chest as a small sob escaped her lips. John stopped abruptly and tightened his arms around her impossibly so.

"You dumbass. Don't do that. Ever again." He was shaking with how afraid he was of losing her. She could feel it now that she was looking him in the eyes. "Conserve your energy. Don't fucking waste it on fighting me and hating yourself, got it?" She nodded silently.

"I love you," she whispered a few minutes later.

John thinks it sounded like goodbye.

#john egan #masters of the air #john egan fanfiction #masters of the air fanfiction #mota #john egan x oc #answered #cass and bucky

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p1nk-b1tes · 6 months

Text

tessellate

[ bloodweave smut ]

summary: it's their second night in the elfsong tavern and both gale and astarion can't seem to find rest like the rest of their companions have. gale's hot, astarion's horny, and they can't keep their hands to themselves. warnings: top astarion, bottom gale, anal sex, grinding... words: 3522

inspired by this work of art by s0calledlass on twitter!

click here to read on ao3 or read below:

Astarion can’t rest.

It’s the second night since he and the rest of his party moved their belongings into the upper floor of the Elfsong Tavern, and the second night in a row that he’s been reduced to tossing and turning and counting the knots in the wood that make up the ceiling just to occupy his brain while the seconds tick by. Restlessness is a cruel curse, especially in a place where he should be experiencing anything but restlessness…

It’s as if the mattress is too soft. The snow white sheets feel like sandpaper against his skin despite the thread count being the nicest fabric he’s touched in weeks, and the huge room is far too quiet. He and his companions have been sleeping on dirt, day after neverending day, and somehow that had felt more comfortable to him than this – though it wasn’t like the vampire ever remembered what it had felt like to sleep on feathers and thread.

Not like the others can.

They sleep in their borrowed beds like they haven’t experienced rest in a tenday, curled up tight and as if they’ve casted Feign Death upon themselves. And apart from the constant drone of voices from drunken patrons down below, the Elfsong itself is still. Almost eerie in comparison to the liveliness of when he’d shared a bottle of Esmeltar Red downstairs with Shadowheart and Gale and laughed with Wyll about past memories of cheekily-induced tavern brawls.

Having a solid roof over his head feels nice, but he’s already begun to not look forward to having the last lantern extinguished for the night.

Karlach snores softly from her bed only a short distance away and Astarion hasn’t heard as much as a peep from anyone else in a long while. But there is one other person who can’t seem to find rest within this new atmosphere…

The wizard whom he’s gradually grown to enjoy sharing his personal space in proximity of – at a healthy distance, of course, but nearness nonetheless.

Gale.

He tosses and turns in his bed, fighting with the sheets in an ongoing battle that has recently left them draped in a ball over his hips with limbs splayed in every direction like a seastar and a limp wrist hanging over the side of the mattress into open space. Usually Astarion envies the man for his magic-like ability to fall asleep whenever and wherever he so desires, but tonight he almost feels a relief in knowing he’s not the only one incapable of drifting off.

The vampire lies on his side with his back to him, listening as the other turns over for the thousandth time and adjusts the sheet once again that he tore from where it was tucked so neatly under the end of the mattress. He listens carefully, mapping out his position and the little shifts he makes in desperation of comfort with his ears alone. Something to do… A little game.

Gale moves and he must be on his stomach again if the heavy sigh that escapes from his lungs is any indication.

Part of Astarion wants to look. Just to make sure that he’s right or momentarily give himself something to do, so he maneuvers onto his opposite side and rests his head of silver curls on the inside of his bicep – a makeshift pillow that isn’t so unbearably plush.

In moments like these he’s thankful for his ability to see in the dark. Mostly because it tends to come in handy, but also because he’s right. Gale is spread flat on his stomach and Astarion watches the slow expansion and contraction of his ribcage as he breathes, struggling to succumb to sleep. Then suddenly he’s watching as the man gives up, cracking a single eye open to squint blindly towards the direction of his bed.

“I can feel you staring,” he mumbles in a drawn-out string of breathy, word-like sounds that cut through the silence as if he’d rather been yelling. Astarion hums. It’s neither an admission nor a defense, but an acknowledgement of his conscious presence, and Gale sucks in a deep breath through his nose, continuing. “It’s not very polite.”

There’s a long moment of nothingness, and then –

“It’s too damn hot in here.”

This time Astarion manages to respond with actual words, speaking quietly at the same time that he adjusts the weight of his head on the muscle it rests on. “I thought it was alright actually.”

Their little glimpse of back and forth dies out again and Gale’s singular eye falls victim to the weight of his eyelid, closing, brow lowering with it, flat and lax. Astarion follows the line of his bearded jaw to his neck, down to the soft swells of muscles in his back, eyes trained on the slight sheen of sweat stuck to his skin like a film, reminiscent of that one time he had snuck into the wizard’s tent while they explored the underdark. He had still loathed him then – every part of him, from his agitating voice to his constant inability to keep up while traveling on foot – but there had been a strange pull about him that night that had led his feet across camp to his bed once the fire had died out and the atmosphere had gone quiet.

Just for a taste of the weave, he’d tried to rationalize, and what a taste he had gotten.

Now, as his eyes rake across that sheen he’s faced with hazy memories of how his skin had felt under his palms and how his thighs had jiggled when he thrusted into him. How he’d had to bite his lip until it drew blood to stay quiet when Astarion had flipped them over and mounted him… How he’d almost bitten him again.

Almost… (He’s not that stupid to forget what happened the first time.)

He’d been on his back then. Maybe it’s good that he’s not now.

The memories fade from his mind but never completely dissipate from his consciousness.

Astarion feels his dick twitch.

More time passes painfully slowly and Astarion diverts his attention to the muffled yelling coming from a drunkard below on the street. He goes on for a while, slurring his words about something and someone and missing a pouch of coin. From what he’s able to gather it’s obvious that someone with a sneaky hand snatched it from the bastard, but he fails to listen any longer when Gale turns over again to his side and presents him with his back. Skin shiny and smooth. And just like that, Astarion feels that strange pull again as he rises from his bed to join the one adjacent to his own.

His weight dips into the mattress as he finds a space for himself, tangling their legs together and pressing his chest against Gale’s back. His right arm drapes over his ribs to tuck itself under the opposite curve of his sticky chest. At first Gale tenses, reasonably confused at the sudden intrusion, but then the coolness of Astarion’s undead vessel begins to seep into his boiling skin like roots through dirt and he finds himself leaning into it, finally feeling a taste of relief for the first time in hours.

Astarion knows his body is cold. Cooler than normal. It’s not something he tends to try and dwell on, but Gale had said something about it that night when he’d first entered him.

“I just didn’t expect you to be so… cool.”

Why exactly he’d carried himself over just for a cuddle isn’t too clear in his head, especially with the images of Gale’s girth swimming in his head and the chub of his dick pressed against the other man’s lower back, but he does his best to welcome it. When Gale pulls at the arm tucked around him and pulls him closer it helps a little bit, and Astarion shifts so that he’s practically wrapped around his back. Enveloping him entirely in that coolness.

He smells the scent of him where he’s buried his nose into his nape. His chestnut hair tickles his cheek and Gale smells of parchment and sweat and a hint of lingering woodsmoke.

His dick fattens up a little more and this time Gale is sure to feel it.

It begins just like that – Gale tugs the vampire closer and Astarion’s body rouses. A push and pull, a battle for what they both want but won’t directly ask for. A taste. Coolness. Relief. Then when he can’t possibly get any closer, Gale locks his legs with Astarion’s long ones and the poor man can help but press their hips flush and grind.

For all that Gale had been complaining about burning up, he sure doesn’t seem to mind the friction building between them.

The hand tucked under Gale’s chest migrates to find a nipple, and his palm is quick to knead and grope at the meat of his pec, pushing and pulling at the flesh to encourage his body against his own at the same slow pace that his hips rock forward into his ass. It’s around the same time that Astarion noses his hair out of the way to attach his lips to a sweet spot on his neck and suckle lightly on the skin. Teasing the delicate membranes with the sharp tip of a fang before retreating and finding a different spot. They both know he won’t bite, but the thrill is all the same.

The low hum that Gale allows to rumble from deep in his throat lights a flickering flame in Astarion’s belly that only really begins to catch when Gale begins to roll his own hips back, meeting the pace that he’s established with a pleasurable pressure against his hard cock that is nothing less than divine.

“Let me in you,” Astarion breathes, right into his ear, and Gale hums again, so pretty, craning his neck to find the other’s crimson colored irises in the pitch black. “This is not the place–” he begins to say, but Astarion smothers his words with a single press to the edge of his jaw so that he can mouth directly into the open cavern between his lips, “–it was hardly the place before.”

He can practically see the gears turning in the wizard’s head as he thinks about which it he’s referring to. It could have been that night in the tent so long ago, or the second night in Astarion’s, or the sneaky blowjob in the basement of the Last Light Inn, or even that time he rubbed him to completion next to the fire while the rest of their party finished up preparing dinner… To be fair, there tends to never be the right place, so what makes what’s happening now any different? Gale lets him nose at his cheek while he considers for a moment longer.

“We’ll have to be silent as a mouse,” he eventually says, and Astarion pulls his body close for a particularly rough grind that makes both of their heads spin. “If I remember correctly, darling, you’re usually the one pressing the shape of your own maw into the back of your hand to stifle your noises.”

Gale rolls his eyes and sighs, tilting his hips back as far as he can (which isn’t much considering how stiff his back is most of the time, but it’s the idea that counts), and resigns. “You’re a bad influence.”

“And what did you expect when you started mingling with a vampire?”

Gale chooses not to answer but Astarion interrupts the silence lingering between them by dipping his fingers into the top hem of his underwear and tugging the article down the front of his hips. What follows suit is a quick shedding of clothing that probably is a little too loud with the rustling of the messed sheets under their backs as they become bare and Astarion gets the wizard onto his back beneath him.

Suddenly, the room begins to feel even hotter than it had before.

Gale nearly wakes the entirety of their camp when he yelps at the feeling of a finger prodding lightly at his rim. And he nearly does it again when Astarion later adds a second. By the time he relaxes enough to allow the vampire to work in a third he’s at least prepared for the strange and foreign feeling of the stretch as his rim becomes stuffed with those skillful, long digits. The real test of his self-discipline is the moment that Astarion slips his fingers from his hole to grab at his cock and line the blunt, already leaking head up with it instead.

He has to attempt the initial push past the tight ring of muscle twice, after learning very quickly that the wizard is disastrously reactive to penetration, and settles on the quick and simple solution of smothering his gaping mouth with his palm. Despite that, he still gasps sharply through his nose when the head of his cock enters him, but a few slow and shallow thrusts are all it takes for him to dig his teeth into his lip and shut up.

Astarion starts with an agonizingly slow pace, leaning over the other man while propped up on his forearms and allowing little space between them in case someone decides to wake up and pop their head up for a curious peek. He allows him as much time as he needs to get used to the stretch of his girth and the intrusion of his length in his ass, and the vampire pays rapt attention to how his body reacts when he pushes in a little deeper or changes the harsh angle of his hips. When Gale tenses and grabs at his back he knows to wait, and when he starts to breathe again he knows that he can continue (though from what he’s managing to gather rather quickly, bottoming doesn’t appear to be a common occurrence for the other man… if ever).

Astarion bites back his own noises as he carves out a space for himself inside his body, feeling the warmth of his insides and watching his features twitch and shift in response to every minute movement his body makes. He gives him a little thrust and pulls all the way out just to push back in with the same force, and Gale pries his palm from his lips.

“Astarion– you gotta – you–...” The vampire shushes him quickly and buries himself a little deeper. “–more.”

With a single, sudden snap of his hips, Astarion slides in wholly to the hilt, forgetting for a moment the potential for disaster that is Gale’s mouth in turn to giving into his overwhelming need for a brief moment.

It’s a miracle that all that comes out is air when he throws his head back into the pillow and clutches at the hard planes of his shoulder blades. His blunt nails feel like they’re trying to tear into the skin between his scars and Astarion buries his face into his neck to muffle the sounds that threaten to tear from his throat.

Deep inside, so deep inside…

He waits a second to move again for both of their sakes, then raises Gale’s shaking knees up higher to bend at either side of his rib cage. He pushes experimentally on the tops of his shins just to see how far he can get Gale’s legs up by his chest to open him up further, and it’s a blessing that his eyes are closed or he might’ve seen the flush of embarrassment that floods underneath the wizard’s cheeks as he folds him like he would a flexible woman.

But the slight change in position did open him up more, and Astarion takes advantage of the opportunity to press their bodies together. Warm and so close.

He gets lost in him quickly – the way that his skin feels against his own, warm and sticky with a new layer of sweat, and the tight flutter of his hole, pulsing and squeezing unrelentingly around his cock. Every pointed punch of his hips and every deliberate grind is better than the last and he’s leaking inside of him, slicking him up from the inside, and providing the ability to explore the deepest parts of him that he can reach.

He wraps an arm under Gale’s back to hold their bodies flush when the other man begins to squeeze against his sides with his knees, ankles hooking sheepishly around the small of his back every few thrusts to encourage the slide of his hips into his own. He just feels so good, so velvety and hot, and Astarion can’t help himself when his free hand tangles up into those thick, chestnut locks and pulls, forcing his head back to expose that pretty neck. Gale’s cock throbs from where it’s trapped between their bodies.

It’s a miracle that nobody has woken up yet to yell at them.

Although they aren’t necessarily making any sort of obvious noise, the sound of their labored breathing gets carried through the air, and the more that the thin sheets get crumpled at their feet will only make for a louder thud when the ball eventually gets kicked to the floorboards.

Gale huffs into Astarion’s curls at the side of his head, a broken combination of consonants breathed into the silvery strands with every thrust, as if he’s forcing them out of him. Astarion pants similarly into the small pocket of air between Gale’s shoulder and neck. His breath sticks to his skin like warm condensation. His brows are knit together in pleasure, mouth hung ajar as he expertly grinds into the other man, making sure the head of his cock hits all of those spots to make his nerves light up and steal little noises of ah, ah, ah that don’t float far from their bed.

“Astarion–” Gale chokes out around the feeling of him in his throat, “I’m not going to last much longer.”

A particularly rough grind has Gale choking on his tongue.

“Neither am I, just hold on a little longer.”

Astarion feels it – the feeling in his balls and the building tension in his abdomen as he wanders closer and closer to the edge. He thrusts a little harder, grinds a little rougher, and Gale is quick to drop both of his wide hands to his pale glutes to hold him at bay when their hips begin to slap together.

A few more pointed thrusts are all it takes for Gale to spurt into the space between their bodies, slicking up both of their abdomens with his cum while Astarion continues to chase his orgasm.

At first Gale does his best to help him get there – return a little of the favor. He clenches around him in an erratic pulsing pattern, pets at his spine and tangles his fingers into the slight dampness at the back of his head to bury his face in his neck, but then the overstimulation begins to settle in, blooming from his waning euphoria as the entire length of his underside continues to to get rubbed raw by the rippling, hard muscle of Astarion’s belly.

Over, and over, and over again.

He winces and a weak, uncomfortable noise bubbles up from his throat. It gets drowned out by the increasing pitch of Astarion’s panting that gets sharper and sharper, more staccato, harsh, and then the pale one is pulling out in a single quick movement to get a hand between their bodies and jerk his dick to completion.

He finishes in the dark hair that covers Gale’s tummy and leaves a magnificent painting of pearlescent ropes across the plane, sighing in relief when he finally spurts his last drop into his dark pubic hair.

They look at eachother, wordlessly. The air between them mingles as they share one last breath, and then just like he did that night in the underdark when he’d slipped into Gale’s tent, he’s already working on retrieving his underwear and trousers before the other man can even out the rapid rise and fall of his chest or clean the sticky mess from his skin. Astarion rises from the bed to make his last move of escape and a hand finds itself wrapped around his wrist.

His brow furrows.

“Just stay a little longer,” Gale says, voice no louder than a whisper, and for once they notice that the Elfsong has gone quiet in the dead of night.

“Gale, darling, I cannot be tangled in your bed when the others wake up.”

He attempts to retreat again but Gale holds onto him. Grip unfaltering.

“It’s way too hot in here for you to just leave me to suffer.”

The vampire sighs. The wizard tugs him back to his bed. “Fine,” he says, and begins to crawl back into his space, “but only a little longer…”

#bloodweave #gale dekarios #astarion #gale x astarion #bloodweave smut #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #nsft #bg3 gale #bg3 fic #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfic

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abysskeeper · 2 months

Text

Rating: M

Tags: Gale/Tav (F!Tav, unnamed), angst, Gale character study

Summary: Come morning, they would be fighting Ketheric Thorm in Moonrise Towers.

Tonight, Gale considers. He has no need to be alone, but he cannot bear to be with her.

Word Count: 4,382

(Weird, experimental stream of consciousness-esque. As always, I need to get weird about divinity. Sometimes I need to get weird about Gale too.)

*****

Gale Dekarios is no stranger to solitude.

In truth, he is quite the companion to solitude, just as it is to him. Solitude is the only presence he has had at his side for the past year. It has stood by him as readily as any friend he had ever made. It has stood by him when no individual he considered a friend ever did. Gale Dekarios knows solitude quite well and often welcomes its reappearance with a heavy sort of openness. It is, perhaps, not always what he wants to be greeted with, but it is, undeniably, comfortably familiar.

It is solitude that walks with him tonight along the blackened bank of the Chionthar, traveling aimlessly in the Sharran cursed lands that are promised to be his final resting grounds. He has no real destination, just a need to walk, to be in motion, to be…well, he does not wish to be alone, but solitude had pulled the hardest at his thoughts all evening. It had still been his choice to heed its siren’s call.

And, perhaps, that is the issue, why his mind is so disquieted even as he relents to his unyielding desire to be in motion. It is his choice to continue indulging solitude even when it is not necessary. He does not need to be alone—truer still, he probably should not be alone tonight, standing on such a precipice as he is. As they all are. Come morning and they would all be facing Ketheric Thorm in Moonrise Towers. Come morning, and the choice that rests before him finally forces its way into being made.

This is, likely, the last night he will see, and he is walking alone along a Shadow Cursed riverbank, barely able to see past his own hand and bound tightly in his own thoughts.

He has no need to be alone, he could be with her…he should be with her. He needs to be with her—as readily as he needs to draw breath—but still he is here, alone. Still, the allure of solitude had pulled him harder, had called louder to the tangled thoughts of his mind—no, no she still calls louder to the thoughts in his mind, even now, but solitude calls louder to the grief. It sings to the guilt and the regret.

He pauses his walking, a sigh escaping his lips as he turns to look out across the water. On a night like tonight, the stars should be glittering in the calm waters of the river. Perhaps the moon’s ethereal glory should be reflected too, though he would admit that since they had stepped into Shar’s curse, he had lost track of what appearance Selûne should be taking now. Instead, the only hint there even is a river flowing next to him are the ripples reflecting the faint firelight from camp, and the light of his own staff—a gentle reminder from her so as not to lose him entirely to the curse…this curse—illuminating the shallow waters near his feet on the bank.

He stares out into the darkness, far beyond the small spot of light his staff is casting, and wonders if anything or anyone would be able to answer him if he calls out to it. Nothing would, he knows this, but the heaviness of solitude’s presence draping itself over his shoulders makes him consider trying regardless. He has never felt quite so crushed—quite so oppressed under the weight of solitude before now. It is enough to labor his breathing, enough to bring tears to his eyes, enough to feel his heart beginning to crack under the pressure and that is…that is something he has not been allowing himself to consider.

In truth, Gale Dekarios is no stranger to heartbreak, either.

Loathe as he is to admit it, melancholy and despair have been constant companions to him for the past year as well. If he were an honest man, he would allow himself to consider them companions for far longer than that, given how many years he has been holding the sloughed off pieces of his heart in his hands instead of his chest. The pieces are more plentiful now, heavier and larger in his palms.

His heart has been breaking since Elminster had found him and delivered the message from Her. His heart has been breaking since the resident next to it had been demanding tribute at an ever-increasing pace to keep itself satisfied. His heart has been breaking for a year under solitude’s constant, all-consuming presence as he alone had toiled away in his tower to find some peace from his mistake. If he were to allow himself to consider, his heart has been breaking since the night he had been cast from Her side; his heart has been breaking since he had lost the only place he had ever felt like he belonged. His heart has done nothing but break and break and break in its search for belonging and being denied at every attempt.

Another sigh pushes past his lips and he closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he glances down at his hands, flexing them in the dim light of his staff before they drop back to his side and he resumes his aimless wandering of the riverbank. If he were to allow himself to consider, it has been a year nearly to the day since that night had happened, the timing impeccable and surely no coincidence from Her. And, in truth, it is not the first time he has indulged a night like tonight, driven by solitude and melancholy. The former had not been quite so prevalent that night, and the latter had been all too heavy.

He had had nowhere else to go that night, no chance to walk and appreciate solitude’s heavy companionship. Instead, its presence had lingered at the corners as it had allowed space for other emotions to preside. Melancholy, certainly, but more importantly, desperation. He had paced the floors of his tower that night pained, ravenous, and confused. She had banished him from Her side—punishment for a crime he still did not understand beyond base disobedience he had thought (foolishly, foolishly believed) would be quickly forgiven in the grand scheme of what he had intended to offer.

Such was never the will of a Goddess.

In place of pride from an expected gratitude, desperation had wound its way into his very marrow, and every step he had taken was that of a prowling beast searching for the answer to all of his problems. He had been ready to howl for forgiveness, for relief, for understanding towards what sin he had committed that warranted a punishment such as this. He had been willing to do anything, speak to anyone, scream and beg as needed for Her if that had been what She so desired…but he had been alone. Solitude had remained steady in the corners, just as it did now.

Well, no, not as it did now. He is alone, but that is his choice, and that choice is making itself more and more prevalent now with each step he takes. Each footfall is substantial, weighted with solitude’s choice forcing him to consider that what stands before him now is not nearly as simple as the heartbreak he had felt that night.

The regret is somehow—impossibly—stronger still than it ever was that night. Desperation does not claw at him now so much as somber sobriety stands quietly in its place. And the guilt…the guilt. The guilt in wronging her rings far, far more hallowed than hollowed than it ever did that night when he wronged Her. The only similarity between now and that night is that he is alone, just as he was then and yet not at all as he was then, and he is still just as uncertain what to do with any of the noise screaming in his heart.

He brings a hand up and rubs at his throat, hoping to ease some of the constriction he can feel wrapping around his neck. It does nothing, and he knows this is his choice he must contend with. He has no need to be alone, his breath remains with her, but it is easier to be here by himself. It is easier to contemplate on self-pity and regret and guilt in isolation, where he does not have to weather the condolences of others. It is easier when he does not have to withstand the quiet, consistent, hopeful pleading from her.

It is easier to contemplate on self-pity and guilt in isolation as opposed to facing the one he knows he is committing a most severe crime against. And he can acknowledge that, perhaps, in hiding from her tonight he is only committing a far greater crime against her still.

He should go to her. The thought—the desire—has not left him since he—she caved and they became one. How easily she holds him—all of him, the despair and the guilt and the self-pity—in her hands is the balm to his soul he has been seeking for a year. For well over several years. Yet solitude’s call is stronger still, because it tempers him. Because he should go to her, but he is not so cruel a man.

It is not a question of worth—though that is a question turned over and over and over again in the recesses of his mind—but a matter of her. He will not harm…will not ruin the woman who so delicately balances his heart between her teeth. It is not something she ever asked for. He still had placed it there with all the grace and sorrow of a drowning man. And she still holds it with all the gentleness of a whisper on the warm, summer breeze of the seacoast he still calls home.

Home.

He hesitates, foot coming down softly on the rocky riverbank as discerning eyes stare back out over the water. Is that why solitude had called him here to the riverbank instead of allowing him to seek her arms? In order to create some weak facsimile to the seaside of Waterdeep? To attempt to at least ease some longing in his heart, even if it is not the one he worries over fixing?

He releases another, long breath, the constriction still prominent in his throat. The Chionthar, darkened as it is by an ever-blackened night from these cursed lands, holds nothing compared to the ocean waves of Waterdeep. There is no comfort in it akin to the warm, sandy beaches just outside of his tower, and there has never been any comfort in walking either of them alone. There is no comfort he can claim at all tonight—outside of her—and he accepts that.

Movement pulls his attention away from the water to the underbrush along the riverbank. He stills, watching silently as a few, sickly birds emerge from the leaves and fly off into the blackened skies of these cursed lands they had been calling home. He watches them well after his poor, human eyesight can no longer see them in the darkness, his hand half-raised as if beckoning them to stay. To also accompany him. To allow him to help them, as sickly, as lost, as confused as they are. As he is.

They do not return, and he acknowledges, mournfully, that is their nature. It is a shame. They will carry what these lands did to them for an eternity, and he wishes—he so desperately wishes—they will turn around and allow him to assist, but perhaps that is foolish of him. Perhaps it is selfish to deny them their very nature.

But they will carry it with them for the rest of their lives. And just like that, there is no denying she will carry his heart in her mouth with her far into a future he is not destined to witness. That is who she is. And for that, perhaps, he is a cruel, selfish man. He should not have let her first taste of something as grand as love fall into such ruin.

He should not have left his mark on her, but he had, he had, and he could not undo that sin either. He should not have left his mark on her, but he needs it to mean something. It is a far cry different to his thoughts a year ago, but he needs a reason to be able to do this beyond Her decree, and if it is for her then so be it. He can die for her. He will die for her, not Her. But he is a selfishly cruel man for needing to leave his mark on her in order to have the strength to complete it.

In order to know that something of his will live on, even when he does not. And it will, because she will. Because she will carry it, as is her nature.

Shame washes over him, and he hangs his head. His mouth runs dry at the sight below him, his gaze tracing over the small, broken body of a bird eternally resting at his feet. He can just barely make out that it holds a similar appearance to the ones that had just scattered—the primary differences are its stillness and the hole ripped through its chest by some, shadowy creature it could barely comprehend.

His fingers twitch at his side, an overwhelming urge to call forth the Weave and attempt to heal the poor thing resting on his tongue. It would do no good, he knows this. The bird is long dead, but he is apparently not beyond wishing for miracles. He quashes the thought before allowing it to go further; there is nothing to be done but to mourn.

Defeat worms its way into his gut, and he wonders, briefly, if the flock he had just witnessed flying away had watched their fellow die. If the little bird had left in search for food or had chosen to be the one to protect a nest—some semblance of a home that could be built in these lands—and had died valiantly on such an endeavor.

If the flock had watched him die, he wonders if they will carry that with them for eternity as well. He wonders if they will hate their friend for it. He wonders for the birds, because he knows she will.

Gale sighs, a few tears rolling down his cheeks, and turns around to return to camp. The defeat in his gut coils tightly enough to permeate each breath he takes as he labors back up from the riverbank.

He does not need to be selfish in such a way. He had her now, and she offered—had been offering—another chance. But a night ago, he had held her in his arms. A night ago, he had held repentance in his arms, had tasted salvation on her lips and had discovered paradise over and over again and again as she had come undone for him. As she had unraveled and wrapped herself around him in such a way she had never allowed another to bear witness to, let alone be the cause of. His name had spilled from her lips in such beautiful, agonized bliss as she had shattered around him and had drawn him deeper and deeper into her—her body, her heart, her very soul—until there was nowhere left for either of them to go.

And it was not a prayer, it was not in reverence, but how she had cried his name that night was done with nothing but pure, concentrated love and that…that was far beyond what he had ever imagined asking for. Far beyond what he ever imagined he could ask for. But the sun had risen the following morning, and as he had looked down at her smiling up at him in his arms, he had never been more certain and less certain of what he needed to do.

He had never directly asked Mystra what She would have him do, but She had given Her answer anyways. She wishes for his death.

“What would you have me do?” He did ask her.

“Live.”

Live, live, live, her answer is always that she would have him live.

The love she offered—offers—is a redemption he had barely fathomed a possibility for him, and she offers it without hesitation. The trepidation to accept is all too grand. He wishes to, he would if not for knowing that a year ago he had committed his sin. And while he wants to take the second chance she offers him, it is not hers to offer, but Hers. He did not sin against the goddess resting in his arms a night ago, he had sinned against the Goddess he once held in his arms a year ago. And though he is convinced her love could save every part of him, it is divinity that needs to accept such salvation.

Love bids him to live. Divinity bids him to die. And he is torn in two between them.

His feet carry him back to camp near his tent. The light on his staff dims to nothing as he allows the spell to dissipate, and he stares around the grounds covered in firelight. It is late, most are not awake, but she still is. His eyes land on her sitting outside of her own tent, curled in on herself, quill scrawling along the paper of her journal. He can only begin to imagine what she may be writing or drawing, what new idea she has had or what inspiration has struck her.

It is a scene he can see himself watching fondly for an eternity, a life they could have shared. That only tears his heart further.

Desperation finally floods him, just as it did that night. There is no warning, just as there had been no warning that night, it simply comes with all the strength and force of the rains of a storm. It rips through him as easily as the gales of a hurricane tear through all in their path. It shakes him to his core, just as it had shaken him that night, just as the storm leaves nothing but wreckage and ruin in its wake.

Look up.

He bids her, he begs her, he does not say a word. He does not use the connection between them nor the magic at his disposal, he simply…thinks. He puts the request into the air and holds his breath. He wants her to look up, he needs her to look up as much as he needs to take another breath, but he cannot call to her. He cannot ask—he will not ask. Just the once he wants to know—needs to know if kismet, whatever that may be—the gods, nature, the human condition, her—could ever find it within itself to smile down on him. Just once, just once.

Look up.

Mystra did not turn around for him that night. She had ordered him to his knees and then cast him from Her side. He had begged that night. He had pleaded, cried, attempted to seek answers, attempted to seek forgiveness and repentance. Nothing he had said that night mattered, and when words had finally failed him, when his mouth had run dry and his tongue had finally rested dead in his mouth, he had fallen silent and simply…thought. Prayed. To the back of the very Goddess whose audience he had requested, he had prayed. In Her own domain, he had prayed.

If Mystra would not listen to his words, then the only chance he had left in his grasp was to pray. A prayer for Her to simply turn around. A prayer for Her to witness him. He had still believed himself a pious man, endlessly devoted to Her domain and all She stood for. His heart still beat for no one other than Her, and if he could still pray to Her after this, if She would still hear him and answer, then he still stood a chance—or so he had believed.

She never turned around.

Look up.

It had been a mercy in the end. Though he knows now it was never Her intention to spare him the humiliation of being so undone and witnessed by a God, it was a mercy that She had granted him. He did not need to be seen by Her like that, no matter how desperately he had wished for it.

Before him now, though…

Please. Look up.

Mystra did not need to see him such a state, but her? The woman who soothes his very soul? The one who speaks to him with a resonance he could hardly fathom existed before making her acquaintance? The one who has been fighting for his life with more vigor, with more frigid determination than anyone else has ever granted him in his life—more than even himself? The woman who has already wept for him while he still yet draws breath?

Well…he does not want her to see him like this, so disheveled and uncertain. So readily grappling with the jaws of Death snapping at his ankles. But he needs her to. The desire for attention is not a new wish for him, but in this moment, it enflames him and engulfs him like no other. If there is one thing he knows, it is that he is capable of all of it and more for her. All of it has meaning so long as her eyes are on him, and it strikes him that perception of such a nature is, perhaps, the holiest feeling a mere mortal could ever experience.

It had been a miracle Mystra did not answer his prayer that night. It would be a miracle if she answers his prayer now.

Please. Look up.

Slowly, she moves. The quill in her hand drops to the page with trepidation. As if against her will, as if bid by forces she could not see, her head rises. It is a heavy movement, weighted by the phantoms of her own mind telling her how awful an idea it is, desperately begging her not to look. And he knows it is instinct at feeling someone’s eyes on her, but in the split second before her eyes meet his, he wonders how many glances she had spared towards his tent tonight.

But then her eyes meet his gaze, an immediate, immeasurable sadness permeates her soft eyes, and all the breath disperses from his lungs. The last tethers coiling in his gut undo themselves and fall away, leaving nothing but a rawness to him that even he cannot begin to explain. It is how he is often left feeling under her gaze.

No words pass her lips, though her mouth opens as if to speak. What is there to say? Their thoughts are the same, their minds both keenly aware of the time and all that lies before them come morning light. All of this could soon be over. For her, that means freedom—well-earned, well-deserved freedom to allow her to return to her life. For him…all of this could soon be over. A year of torment could come to a meaningful end, and if one begets the other then…all the better. It is doable.

It is more than doable, it is necessary. For her.

Because, in this moment, she answers his prayer. In this moment, she sees him, and perception of this nature is, undeniably, the holiest feeling a mere mortal could ever experience. The storm quells, though the rain still falls.

It is a salvation he has sought for a year, but it still claws at him. It tears him apart to see the glossy veneer in her eyes. It is devastating to know he is the cause of her devastation. And it is unfair to find Life staring at him now, begging him to reach out a hand, pleading with him to believe he deserves more than what he has been sentenced with. It is unfair, so damnably unfair that Life finds him now while standing on this precipice. He longs to reach back—yearns to grasp her hand and walk towards the future she speaks so certainly of, but he cannot—he cannot—as marred and as claimed by Death as he is.

But if it is for her, then it is for Life. And if it is for Life, then it is enough.

And that is why, as much as he longs to go to her, to kiss her tears away and to shed and mix his own, he does not. He smiles at her—smiles at the very Life she is and all the future they could have if born of different circumstances, if discovered at another time—and turns away. It is for her, it is all for her, but he cannot bear to cause undue pain.

He cannot bear to cling to Life when he knows he is Death’s claim. It is for her. Because of Her. He will not drag her—his heart, his soul, his Life—down with him.

He indulges himself only once—when he reaches the opening of his tent—glancing back at everything he desires and everything he must deny. He shouldn’t have indulged. A few tears reflect in the firelight as they roll down her cheeks, and she is still staring after him. Still, she is looking after him, and she watches, and she watches.

Thank you, for answering a dead man’s prayer.

He recedes into his tent. It is the most merciful thing he can do for her now, prevent her from watching. Prevent her from witnessing what is to come in some attempt to spare what she must carry with her into a future he will not see. But perhaps it is foolish of him to believe he can prevent it.

Still, she will watch, even as it destroys her. As she always has. As Life always must.

#bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #gale x tav #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 tav #don't mind me #my writing #moon mage of elturel #time gremlin #oc: nox #timeweave

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