#gale can go f himself for all I care

[novemberwasgrey]

I have a ship pattern.

I just had the mind blowing revelation that I love sweet artist x brooding black haired girl pairs and it's not just because of Wenvier.

...I ship Jeankasa and Everlark too.

[yourtamaki]

o, come, be buried / a second time within these arms

zoro x f!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: hurt/comfort, sex as a form of comfort, fingering, cuddlefucking, creampie, scent kink, oral (f!receiving), cum play, cum eating, violent imagery, bit of aftercare

DAILY CLICK FOR PALESTINE

Consider making a donation to the Palestine Children's Relief Fund

Masterpost of Vetted Fundraisers to aid families in Gaza and Sudan

there is a storm building inside you.

zoro can see it raging even as you keep your face turned from him. the room dark save for the moonlight that streams in through the open window, just bright enough to spot your outline curled up in bed, covers tucked up under your chin. lines of tension keep your back rigid and shoulders hunched, your breathing shaky and slow as you tell him to leave.

you’re vicious gales and crashing waves wrapped into one, devastating and beautiful.

“you don’t want to be around me right now,” you say, words muffled by your pillow.

“don’t tell me what i want,” he doesn't try to bite back the anger that laces itself through his tone. zoro has never censored himself from you before and he wasn't about to start now.

ire thrums hot in his veins, burning and boiling away beneath his skin. he has always given you every part of himself, heart served in his open, blood-stained palms, for better and most certainly for worse.

the thought of you holding yourself back from him, that there’s a part of you that he’s being denied, sets his teeth on edge. he'd been searching for you all day, prowling around the ship like a caged animal until finally found his way to where his search should have began, the tiny storage room that had become your shared quarters.

“you pissed at me?” he asks.

“no,” you say.

“want me to kill anyone?”

“no.”

it grates on him that there’s no enemy for you to sic him on, no bones to crack, no blood to spill. your pain deserves retribution and he is the blade that would carry it out, if only you would wield him, "then i'm staying."

"zoro, please. just go."

“who do you think you’re protecting by hiding yourself away?” he steps in closer, right to the edge of the bed but makes no move to touch you, “cause it’s not me and it sure as fuck isn’t you.”

you throw a dagger of a glare his way, so sharp it could make a man bleed before he even knew he’d been cut. he doesn’t care. a small price to pay for your gaze.

zoro is too loyal of a beast to flinch away the first time you flash your fangs at him.

you hold his gaze for a moment longer before turning back around to face the wall once more. in your silence, he resolves himself to sitting on the floor by your bedside until he can be of some fucking use to you. zoro would lick crumbs of affection out of the palm of your hand. if the closest you'll let him be to you right now is knelt on the ground, keeping vigil, then he'll take it. he's crouched halfway down when he hears you call for him.

“baby, get in.”

how you have enough sweetness in you to spare him a kind word even when you have none for yourself, he will never understand. zoro takes a moment to pull his swords free from where they hang on his hip, propping them up against the wall where they’ll still be in arm's reach before he pulls back the covers and settles in next to you.

you're cold to the touch despite having been buried under the blanket, dressed only in a simple shirt and underwear and zoro is quick to throw an arm around you and pull you in by your waist until you’re pressed flush against him, his other arm slipping under your head for you to rest on. he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, breathes you in and for a moment he can almost smell the scent of your hurt lingering on your skin, thick and bitter as blood.

there’s an urge, ever present and never sated, to dig his teeth into the side of your neck and bite down until iron coats his tongue, to taste you, know you, in a way no one else ever has or will. it’s an urge he can only hold at bay by pressing open mouth kisses to your throat and feeling your pulse flutter against his tongue.

you slowly start to melt in his arms, the tension you wore like ill-fitting armour stripping off you piece by piece with every kiss until you’re free from its hold, warm and light.

“better?” he asks, slipping his hand under your shirt and pressing his palm flat against your stomach just to feel it rise and fall, follows the rhythm of it and matches his breaths to yours. the reassurance that you're whole and safe is a cool balm to his worries.

“a little bit,” you whisper.

“but you need more,” it’s hardly a question that needs to be answered, not with the way you’ve started to shift in his hold.

“you don’t have to—”

“i do. i want to.”

and there’s more he could say, he knows there is. pretty poetry to comfort you, sweet nothings to soothe you. but what use would empty words be to you? they can’t hold you, can’t keep you warm, can’t wipe your tears.

zoro can. he will. for you, he’d do anything and everything. all and more.

the room settles into silence, his offer hanging in open air and ripe for your taking. you don't reach out for it, not yet, but zoro doesn't mind. he can wait.

“impatience is a swordsman’s undoing,” his master had once told him a lifetime ago when zoro’s palms were still soft enough to bleed and grief was a companion so new it still stepped on his heels as it dogged his footsteps.

of the two of you, patience has always been your strong suit rather than his. it was your patience that brought you together, when you stepped into his life with a hand outstretched and he met you the same way he met all good things that tried to enter his life, with a snarl and blood stained teeth.

zoro kept you at a careful distance with all the wariness of a distrustful stray, always watching but never getting close. it was you who slowly bridged the gap, gracing him with kindness and company he'd done nothing to earn but gorged himself on anyway.

it was only because of your patience that he knows the bliss of falling asleep and waking up with the warm weight of you in his arms. the least he could do is pay you back with what you've always freely given him. so zoro holds you close and waits.

and waits.

and smiles, sharp and proud, when you take his hand that still rests on your stomach and lower it until he’s cupping you between your legs, the heat of you searing his palm even through your panties.

your hips jerk when zoro doesn’t move, a soft whine catching in your throat when his other arm circles around your chest and holds you still against him, “zoro.”

“i've got you,” he says with a kiss behind your ear, toying with the waistband of your panties before sliding his hand inside.

he slides his middle finger down your slit, dipping his fingertips into the slick heat of your cunt to wet them before drifting back up to where you need him most. there’s no rush as zoro rubs neat, tight circles against your clit, slow and firm even as you buck and try to grind down on him.

he wants you to feel every moment of this, to savour it, to drown in pleasure so deep you never want to come up for air.

another kiss to your throat, one on your jaw and you finally melt back into him, legs spreading just enough for zoro reach lower and start to ease a thick finger inside you.

“there you go, baby, that’s it,” he says, “let me in.”

you swallow him down to his knuckle, trembling in his arms when zoro slips in a second finger and crooks them to rub against the spot that never fails to pull the prettiest sounds out of you.

he shifts, trying to move lower between your legs without pulling his fingers out so he can taste where you’re wet and aching for him but you stop him by threading your fingers through his short strands, keeping him in place.

“what?” he asks, “you don’t want my mouth?”

“no, not— not right now. just stay close. keep holding me. please,” he hates how small you sound.

“i’m here. i’m right here. fucking kills me knowing you were in here hurting by yourself."

"i'm sorry.”

"don’t,” the anger he felt when you tried to send him away rears up once more. an apology is the last thing he wants to hear from you right now, “just find me next time. doesn't matter when or where. you find me. got it?"

“yeah, i got it,” you start rocking back into him, soft ass grinding against his clothed cock, “zoro.”

“i know. i know you want it, baby, but i gotta stretch you out first. can’t fit when you’re this fucking tight.”

your answer is lost in a moan as he eases in a third finger, thumb pressing against your clit. the angle isn’t kind on his wrist but zoro keeps his pace steady, spreading and curling his fingers until you’re soaked and soft and ready for him. he pulls his hand out of your panties, kissing your nape when you whine from the loss before he licks the taste of you off his fingers.

“i'm not going anywhere,” he says, "keep your eyes on me."

zoro waits until you turn in his arms and he has your gaze before he gets out of bed and undresses, leaving his clothes in a pile next to his blades. you sit up to tug your panties down and kick them off, your shirt following soon after.

you’re bare and soft and holding out a hand for him to take. zoro laces his fingers through yours and joins you once more, stripped of his swords, his clothes, and his restraint.

you don't crash into each other so much as you collide into a bruise of a kiss. it aches more than it soothes but the shared pain of it only has him pressing closer to you, your soft tits pressed to his chest, legs intertwined and weeping cock trapped between your stomachs.

he reaches up to cup your cheeks and breaks the kiss to pull back just far enough to take in the sight of you, all swollen lips and glassy eyes. it takes a heartbeat longer than it should for you to focus on him. the storm is still raging inside you but zoro refuses to lose you to it. he stands firm against the buffeting winds that threaten to rip you away from him and swipes his thumbs over your cheekbones.

“still with me?” he asks.

you turn into his touch and kiss the rough centre of his palm, “‘m here.”

"then take what you need, baby."

you slide a hand between your bodies, taking his cock into your hand and guiding his tip to your entrance. even with all the prep, it takes some time to sink inside you, time you spend peppering kisses across his face. he bears them as he bears the scars that litter his body. with pride. with honour.

zoro bottoms out with a low groan, grabbing you under your knee and hooking your leg over his hip to slip in that much deeper. every sense is flooded with you. the wet heat of you wrapped around his cock, the heady scent of your sweat and need swimming around his head, soft skin beneath his palms.

entangled and weaved together like this, heart and breath as one, zoro is drawn into the eye of your storm.

your pleasure is his, your pain his own.

still, clear waters surround you both as he waits for you to adjust. with how closely he watches you, he knows you’re ready even before you wrap both arms around him and start to roll your hips.

he keeps one hand under your knee, the other sliding down your back to rest on your ass, and uses his grip on you to pull you into a slow, dirty grind.

“oh fuck,” you moan as the two of you find your rhythm together. zoro barely pulls out, keeping himself buried to the hilt inside you. you jerk back as he rolls his hips just enough to grind your clit up against his pelvis, his firm hold on you the only thing keeping you pinned in place.

“easy now. don’t run from me.”

time slows to a crawl, every moment yawning and stretching into the next, slow and sweet as honey. you tip forward, closing what little space there still was between you to pull him into a kiss that has all the intimacy of a hard-fought spar, of learning to move together, of missteps and growing pains, of getting the wind knocked out of him only to be pulled right back on his feet.

you’re close, all worked up and sensitive from his fingers, cunt fluttering and clenching down around him as you near your high. zoro chases your pleasure down, a starving mutt set loose upon a feast. he uses the little leverage he has to wrestle you on to your back and fuck into you with short, heavy thrusts.

“c'mon, baby, that's it,” he says, bent low to brush his lips against your ear, “let go.”

he reaches down between you, thumb pressing firm against your swollen clit and you’re gone, swept out to sea as your high crashes down over you in waves. zoro hardly feels his own orgasm rip through him, too caught up in watching you shake apart and be remade in his arms.

all is still as you pant and come back into yourself. your hand slips back into his and squeezes once. he’s not sure whether you’re trying to reassure yourself that he’s still here or that you are but he squeezes back all the same.

“can i eat you out now?”

and for the first time since he stepped into the room, a smile breaks over your face, bright as the dawn sun breaking through an overcast sky. you pull out of his hold, his soft cock sliding out, and settle on your back, legs falling open, “go for it.”

zoro eases himself down between your legs, throwing your thighs over his shoulders, never letting your hand slip free from his. he takes stock of your fresh fucked cunt, clit puffy and hole clenching around nothing, dripping with him. the scent of you, of the two of you, is thickest here, heavy in his nose, and zoro breathes you in with deep, greedy lungfuls, spent cock twitching against his thigh.

he dives in, catching what leaks out of you on his tongue before pulling back and dribbling the mess of cum and spit all over your pussy.

“nasty,” you say and zoro wants to kiss the curl that sits pretty on the corner of your lips. he settles for kissing your clit instead.

“you like it.”

“i like you.”

you wield your honesty with all the ease and carnage zoro wields his swords, sliding it between his ribs and piercing his heart clean through. the pain is lost as he’s distracted by the light pouring in as the moon rises higher into the night sky.

or maybe it’s your eyes that take the pain away because it’s only through them that he notices how bright the moon’s light shines tonight.

zoro devours you, gaze fixed to yours, one hand still holding yours while the other arm keeps your hips pinned to the bed. he takes his time cleaning you up, lapping at your folds until only the taste of you remains. it’s only then that he sucks your clit into his mouth, slipping two fingers inside you to give you something to clench down on.

you are a vision in your bliss, one he has no right to bear witness to. a lifetime of blood and blades and butchery shouldn't be rewarded with the softness of you in his hand and on his tongue. it's not right.

but as you take hold of his hair to keep his mouth pressed flush against your cunt, zoro finds he couldn't give less of a shit if it's right. all that matters is if he does right by you. there's an oath in every broad stroke of his tongue, a vow in every kiss to your clit, to take care of you in all the ways you need, in all the way he knows how.

today and for all days.

your orgasm is a gentle thing that washes over you and steals your breath for a moment, smaller than the first but leaves you just as ruined.

zoro takes his rightful place by your side once more, gathering you up in his arms and running his knuckles up and down your spine.

"thank you," you press a kiss to his cheek, just below where his scar ends. he accepts the kiss but not the gratitude that comes with it.

a hound needs no thanks for fulfilling its nature.

later, he will carry you off to the baths, let you pop open bottles for him to smell that make his nose itch but that make you beam, wash your back, and wait with the patience you’ve taught him for you to share what’s trapped inside your head.

he may not understand, may not have the comfort of words to give you, but he will listen. and he will stay.

but that is for later.

for now, zoro holds you to his chest and watches over you, moonlight and peace washing over you as you catch your breath.

dedicated to: mah wife @katslutski and loml @saotoru

[tragedybunny]

Astarion head cannon! If your tav has any artistic ability (or none and is learning) imagine if he found you drawing his face a bunch to try get a good image of him to share. Pre act 2 where he believes you actually love him and he loves you. Just seeing this person doing something purely for him confusing and scaring hin but feeling too nice to want to run from.

So I had to turn this into a little story, it was too good.

What The Heart Sees - Astarion x F!Reader

You've been acting suspicious and Astarion is going to get to the bottom of it.

You'd been acting ever so slightly strange around him. He hasn't put the pieces together yet, but Astarion knows something is going on with you. The thought fills him with a little dread, he's worked so hard to get you on his side, to have someone to keep the others from turning on him. Now it might all be slipping through his fingers. 

Whatever was happening, he needed to bring it to a halt and get you back to your regular sweet devotion to him. The first step was interrogating your companions. Lae'zel and Shadowheart of course saw nothing wrong with your behavior. "Maybe she just needs a rest from your fangs at her neck," Shadowheart snipped and Astarion considered giving her neck a try one night before stomping away. 

Gale and Karlach at least confirmed his suspicions. As usual Gale was too worried about exploding to be much help, but Karlach, dear Karlach tried to be helpful. "We're all going through a lot. Maybe she's just tired Fangs." So, there was something going on with you, but no one seemed to have any clue. Maybe the Mind Flayer transformation was actually happening just very slowly, he shuddered at the thought. 

This situation clearly called for some less wholesome tactics. Stealth and spying on you, for now, maybe violating your trust and rummaging through your stuff as well. That night he crept to your tent after everyone had retired, there was still the faint glow of a light spell illuminating it. His intent had been to stop and listen, see if could find an angle to glance in that wouldn’t expose himself. Quietly, he made it near the entrance, perfect, you were unawares. There was a book cradled in your lap. Perhaps you’d found some arcane knowledge you were unwilling to share. He hadn’t thought you were power hungry, but maybe he’d misjudged. Reaching over, you picked up a piece of charcoal. Interesting, he leaned forward. “Woof.” Scratch was on top of him, wagging his tail, and he was laying the dirt outside your tent. 

You jump up, clearly startled, and he wanted to gut the stupid beast. But he saw where you tucked that precious book as you leapt up. “Astarion!” You were standing at the opening of the tent, looking down at him with concern. 

“Hello my Sweet,” he tries his best to still somehow be charming while pushing Scratch off him. “I uh, saw you were up and wanted to check on you but Scratch is apparently in a playful mood.” 

“Oh Scratch! You haven’t had enough attention huh?’ You reach out to pet the mongrel and talk softly to him as Asatrion pushes himself out of the dirt. “I was just reading, sorry to disturb you.” 

“No worries Darling,” he gives you a perfunctory peck on the cheek before heading back to his tent. It was all working out anyway. 

The next night comes and he’s ready, Scratch has given him quite a bit of inspiration. Discreetly Astarion leads the heap of fur to the edge of the camp, the ball he had dragged in from somewhere tucked in a pocket. “Come here Scratch,” he hisses, waving it around, getting his attention before chucking it off into the woods. The animal follows excitedly. Astarion isn’t sure where it went and he doesn’t care. Scratch is more a rival for your attention than anything else anyway. 

After a couple of minutes he finds you at the campfire, blissfully unaware. “Has anyone seen Scratch,” he asks, as innocently as he can manage. 

“Oh no,” your eyes quickly scan the campsite, “he must have wandered off.” You seem so distressed, he almost feels guilty. But this is his survival on the line. “Maybe I should go look for him.” 

“Do take Halsin my Dear, he’ll have the best chance at tracking,” and one less person around camp to watch. 

“Right,” you nod, standing and trodding off to the Druid. 

No sooner are you gone then Astarion is creeping into your tent when no one is looking. No light needed, he sees everything perfectly, including the little pack you shoved your book in last night. Victory. He wrests it from the spot under your pillow and plops down on your blankets to study it. What forbidden knowledge rests inside. The worn cover flips open to…

Sketches, sketches of him specifically. Not that he remembers what he looks like, but the clothes give it away, along with the poses, moments he remembers. Him, you’ve been drawing him. He continues to flip through the book, more bits of him, frozen in time, and the technique improves. Why are you doing this? The mirror, he remembers, being upset about not seeing his reflection. 

Sitting there in stunned silence, he feels an unpleasant weight in his chest. No one has ever done anything like this for him before. It’s…kind. Not that you’ve ever been any other way to him ever. Gods, what is he even doing, maybe he should just…

“Astarion!” Slamming the book shut, he jumps up. “Hello Darling, I-”

“You ruined the surprise,” you scold, looking so dejected he somehow feels worse than he did a moment ago. 

“I’m sorry, I was curious. I saw you with it the other night. It’s amazing though,” he tries to placate, guilt an emotion he’s buried for so long, but fear is there as well. Fear he’s crossed a line you won’t tolerate. 

Bending down, you retrieve the book from where it landed. “I was hoping to get something I was pleased with to show you, but I suppose it will have to do for now.” 

“Really, you shouldn’t bother so much with it,” you look up at him so sadly he quickly adds, “you do too much for me already. But I do appreciate this gift.” Impulsively he pulls you close and kisses you quickly before letting you go. “Is this really what you see? 

“That and so much more.” The way you stare at him with adoration, the way you always treat him so sweetly, the way he suddenly wants nothing more than to stand here in this tent forever, basking in you, it’s all becoming too much, he could almost swear he had a pulse to hammer in his veins. Hells, what has he gotten himself into with you? 

[dekariosclan]

Hello my friend!

So we all know how amazing and wonderful Gale is, how kind, good, caring and funny he is. He is, in so many ways, a perfect man.

He is, however, only human. I have the tendency to idealise him, and forget this.

My question to you is - what do you think his flaws are? Both generally and as a husband/life partner.

💜

Ohhh I love this question so much ❤️ I am a hopeless romantic, and I adore Gale’s charming, sweet, loving adorkableness! He is truly amazing—but I can confirm NOBODY (and no relationship) is ever 100% perfect.

The thing about a long-term committed relationship is that, while your partner’s charms make the relationship wonderful, their flaws are what make it REAL. And that’s just as important.

So let’s talk about our charming Gale’s less-than-charming aspects, shall we?

[warning: this went from a short & concise answer to a rambling dissertation, please prepare yourself accordingly! Also I know this ask/answer was supposed to make Gale a little less perfect and help lessen our obsession, but uhhhh, I seem to have veered hard in the opposite direction 😂]

———

First off: The Pomposity™️ (I’m not 100% certain that’s even a real word but you know what I mean right) So we all know that by the end of the game, (human) Gale has come to accept himself as he is, and decided to henceforth be known as ‘Gale Dekarios, a most brilliant wizard of intentionally limited reknown.’ He’s come a lonnng way in cutting down his ego, but let’s be honest: some of it will never truly go away. And that’s fair, because he IS brilliant, and he IS talented, and he IS extremely passionate about magic.

…but it’s tough to remember all that and give him a pass when that usually-oh-so-adorable-finger-in-the-air is now aimed at YOU, as he declares that ‘after all, he IS an expert on [*insert topic here*] because he WAS awarded [*insert scholarly award here*] from the one and only [*insert impressive Blackstaff Academy professor here.*]’

And all you wanted was for your opinion to be taken into consideration regarding the wine selection at dinner.

———

Second: The Disarray / Messiness. Gale has a brilliant mind, one that he applies full throttle to any and all situations: concentration on magic spells, lance board strategy, calculations, poring over ancient tomes, and even figuring out how to cook something edible out of rotting fish heads and some moldy cheese (no veggies, though!)

The problem is, while his mind is brilliant and he will keep it laser-focused on his chosen subject at that current moment, from a day-to-day perspective he is straight-up scatter brained with all the things he has his hands in. We can see this in his vision of his tower: BOOKS. BOOKS EVERYWHERE. Some stacked in piles, some shoved onto shelves, some left open on the page he was reading when he got distracted, etc.

We also get confirmation of this from Tara in the epilogue:

Tara: The way he leaves his potions in absolute disarray—I know for certain he wasn’t raised in a barn, but you’d never know it.

It’s one thing to have books & potions & scrolls scattered throughout his library and sitting room—you have no complaints against that, you HAVE moved in with/married a wizard, after all—but to find them in the kitchen, wine cellar, even occasionally stuffed into your own wardrobe? It’s a bit much.

TLDR: Our rizzard is a hot mess.

———

Which leads us into perhaps his biggest flaw: The Fussiness.

So about all those books everywhere, on everything, all at once? You didn’t try and ARRANGE them or organize them for him, did you?…You did?! Oh, gods! No, no, he had an ORDER to them, you see, and he knew that the exact spell he needed could be found in the third book down in the stack next to the piano, page 453, why did you ever decide to move it?

Well, you explain as patiently as you can, it was in the way, and frankly you could tell from the dust on it that he hadn’t touched it in several yea—

BY ELMINSTER’S ELBOW, did you ALPHABETIZE his illusion scrolls??! Oh, for the love of—!

You get the picture.

There would undoubtedly be moments when you found yourself fully exasperated by this man and his exacting, fussy nature.

———

All that being said: true fights would be rare.

The occasional huffy remark or quickly-forgotten gripe would occur now and then as in any relationship, but a real, anger-filled argument? With heightened emotions and hurt feelings? Rare indeed.

The only thing bigger than Gale’s brain is his heart. And while his mind is dedicated to a great many things as mentioned above (magic studies, lance board, etc) his heart is 100% dedicated TO YOU, and you alone. So on those rare occasions after a fight has occurred, it does not take long for him to come down from the heat of the moment and realize, oh, hells, he’s been an ass, hasn’t he?

He knows you love him. His anxiety about not being enough for you has long since disappeared, and he’s calmed his worries that you would ever leave him, but still…there’s always a lingering concern that maybe you’ll grow distant from him after an argument.

If you are in the wrong and he is certain of it, he will be stiffly polite until you offer an apology, and then he will be taking you in his arms, kissing you passionately and telling you ‘all is forgiven my love, let’s never speak of this again’ (and trying hard to hide his relief that you apologized first, because he was not sure how long he would be able to hold out and stay mad at you.)

If HE is in the wrong, though? And you are truly mad at him? And he knows he really stuck his foot in it? Oh, boy.

You’ll be treated to an apology so eloquent it would make poets weep, and it will come packaged with hand-holding, pouting, pleading, and Gale getting down on his (bad) knees.

And if you’re still mad at him after that?

Well, then you’ll have to complete a gauntlet harder than anything Shar could ever throw at you. You’ll have to try and stay angry, explain your anger, AND explain to Gale why he won’t be easily forgiven, all while looking directly at this:

And this:

AND THIS:

…

…needless to say you will be failing, and hard.

Not that you mind, because the make-up sex will be absolutely phenomenal. Gale doesn’t just want to repair your loving bond after you’ve had an argument, he wants to improve it. Which requires much study and experimentation, of course.

And for awhile afterwards, all will be bliss again.

…until you find a pile of scrolls shoved under your side of the bed, and some open books scattered across your dresser, and you decide it time to do some organizing. ———

So yes, my friend. Gale definitely does have some flaws, and at some point they WOULD drive you crazy in any sort of relationship you have with him. Gale is wonderful, Gale is loving, but Gale isn’t perfect!!

…but when he takes you in his arms after you’ve made up, and his mouth is hungrily devouring yours, and he’s murmuring words of adoration against your skin as he trails his kisses down your neck, chest, hips—

Nevermind! I take it all back. He’s perfect. 😂

[wriothesleysgf]

𖹭 ࣪ 𓈒 ⊹ cough syrup — wriothesley ₊ ◌ ۪ ࣪

ᝰ .ᐟ ꩜ fortress of meropide gets intense cold spells, but everything is bearable when you have a loving man to keep you warm. ⟢ [ f ! reader , sfw . ]

fall always came with a shift towards colder weather. the leaves began to brown and the sweet tunes of fontaine's songbirds were carried by gentle gales. then winter snuck up ever so unsuspectingly; divination experts and meteorologists alike began to predict snowfall, and the court's streets became bustling with those preparing for the upcoming holidays. you, however, were rarely privy to any of this.

such an infatuation with the lord of meropide meant that you spent a significant portion of your year in the ocean's depths. although you'd initially been terrified of the deep sea and what unknowns lurked there, wriothesley quelled your fears and managed to enlighten you as to the true beauty of life down here. whether it was watching the jellyfish float about or cheering on up and coming fighters in the pankration ring, the man truly managed to make you feel at home all the way down here.

the one thing that you'd never managed to get used to, however, was the damn cold. sure, you'd experienced the same transformation in weather when you were living in the overworld, but such a change was more intense down here. wriothesley was accustomed to it after all of his years in the fortress so it took him a second to realize why you opted to stay bundled up in the warm sheets of the bed that you shared.

"doll, is everything okay?" he asked, looking over at you as he picked out his shirt for the day— it would surprise some how many greyscale button ups he owned.

"mhm," you hummed, not wanting to worry the man before he headed off to deal with the necessary duties for the day. however, once he heard the small sneezes coming from you, he noticed what was most likely going on.

"you cold, baby?" he cooes, finding your small nod adorable. you were buried in the sheets at this point, with only your eyes peeking over the top of your pile of blankets.

wriothesley wasted not a moment in striding back over to you. he lifted the blankets and came directly to you, wrapping his large arms around your figure and pulling you into his broad chest. though many assume those with cryo visions tend to run on the chillier side, wriothesley's size and stature had him radiating a fair amount of heat at all times.

"you're freezing," he comments.

"'s so cold down here... i thought i'd get used to it but... clearly not."

he chuckles softly, walking back towards the bed. he shrugs off his coat and removes his boots before sitting down next to you. "come here, love," he pats his thighs.

you oblige, crawling into his lap. of course, the pile of blankets come with you. wriothesley finds it absolutely adorable. he fawned over you, ensuring that the blankets were positioned to perform at peak efficiency. he did debate running ti the infirmary to see if sigewinne had any hot water bottles that he could borrow, but couldn't bear the thought of leaving you alone for a second.

"bless you, doll," he cooes as you sneeze once again. wriothesley reaches over to his waistcoat, retrieving a small hankerchief from his pocket. to be honest, it was rare that he needed to use it himself, rather keeping the object on him at all times should you ever require it. "why don't you try to sleep, sweetheart? i'm not going anywhere,"

"but what about-" you tried to protest, knowing he most likely has work that he needs to tend to.

however, before you could even finish, he cuts you off in one of the most caring tones that only few were privy to. "you're always my priority, princess. everything else can wait; i guess that's a perk of being the warden," he chuckles softly.

you decide to not protest, curling into wriothesley's lap and resting your head on him. it was quite easy to doze off with the combination of his hand against your hair and the lullaby of his heartbeat.

© kentofairy — please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my posts. this includes posting to wattpad / tiktok or other platforms.

[blkgirl-writing]

I love your touch starved Gale so much 😭❤️ honestly it's so tender and yum haha

Do you have an A-Z/Alphabet NSFW thing for Gale??? 🙏

I do now!!! I totally forgot abut Alphabet stuff, if ya'll want one for every character let me know, I'm working on Astarion right now!

Gale Dekarios NSFW alphabet (x reader)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Gale is kind and caring, he will always make sure you get what you need before he really relaxes. Sex isn't over for him until you're taken care of, aftercare is a part of the sexual experience to him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Creampie every time, though after eating you out he has stopped to cum on your thighs.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Not that much of a secret since anyone who looked at his underwear knows, it's self jerk off underwear. Honestly I think he's used them during battle when you look extra hot. Trying really hard not to show that he's pleasuring himself.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Gale is fairly experenced, having a few mortal hookups/relationships and obviously a long fling with Mystra that left him a bit sexually traumatized (and generally very traumatized). He's had enough sex to know what he wants but still open to try new things.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Side fucking is his favorite for sure, it's easy to get away with while camping with the others as well. Also plowing you from behind while you lay on your stomach is a favorite, as he can kiss your neck or hold down your waist.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very serious. Once he gets in that mood there's no getting him out of it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He's trimmed for your pleasure, otherwise he'd definitely just forget.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Gale is a great mix of romantic, passionate, and filthy. Everything does hand in hand very well, he can absolutely run a train through you in astral protections with gangbanging you with literally just clones of himself, but he will still whisper sweet and romantic things, still check if you need to stop or if anything is too much.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Gale cry jerks like all the time lmao. Guilty masturbation is something he has mastered. Thinking about you before you get sexually involved? he will feel guilty.

How he jerks off is two different ways. The only way he can really cum is by grinding on something, his hand, the bed, his enchanted underwear, etc... But he doesn't need to cum. So he also jerks off with his hand behind the rocks near the beach in act 1s camp.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

This is gonna be a hear-me-out kind of situation.

Semi public sex kink. in front of windows, on balconies, middle of the forrest, etc.

lil bit of a jealousy thing, leaves hickies on your neck to show that ya'll fuck good.

he wouldn't do anything to harm you, so anything thats too 'harsh" is a no no for Gale.

thigh fucking kink?

sweaty kink?? cause battling? that whole speech was one of the most sexually charged things I have read.

lil bit of a breeding kink, not with actually getting pregnant, but definitely the deep creampies and keeping his cum in you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Gale cannot WAIT to fuck you in every single inch of his tower. Whenever he pictures fucking you, he pictures you in his home. It's kinda romantic.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Honestly, any glance at you will get him going. Like an instant hard on. If he looks at you too long, boner. if he looks at your thighs or butt? Boner. Slightly low cut top? Boner. Battling? Boner.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He would never do anything to hurt you, the most he'd do is wax play.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving. This man GIVES. He fucks to serve. He wants your pleasure, he doesn't cum til you do, no matter what. If that means he won't cum, then he won't cum. If he could spend all day between your legs he would.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Sensual but fast and hard. This man pounds.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He hadn't ever been able to not last a while before you, now, he can actually do quickies, which infatuates him for a while so you have a lot of quickies for a time. But usually everything lasts an hour or so.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Gale is down to try just about anything you'd want, but he definitely already knows what he likes most.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Shockingly he can go for awhile. He will need to just lay for a while because he definitely isn't made for long sessions, he just ignores his knee and back pain for you until he absolutely can't.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

We all know he will, can, and has used magic hand during sex. Does copies of him count as toys as well?

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Gale isn't one to tease much. Verbally, sometimes, yes, telling you how hot you are, how good you look, etc, while having no time to slip away to fuck.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

I feel like Mystra wanted him silent, so he's working on getting more vocal during sex. But he doesn't moan loudly, sometimes whimpers or gasps.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Gale absolutely reads smut. We know this kinda from his diagram books basically, but I think he has a whole bookshelf dedicated to smut. His favorite being wlw.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Said this before but honestly? I watched something and that dick that was shown just screamed Gale to me, so I'm revising my HC and saying Gale is 7 inches, girthy, and curved upwards and slightly to the left, it absolutely fucks. Like tied with best dick of the group, tied with Wyll and his ribbed cock.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Gales sex drive is very dependant on you. If he's thinking about you or around you? very high. On his own? slightly above average.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends. After a long fuck, literally instantly after he checks to see if you need anything. after astral fucking he feels energized, after a quickie he feels a bit tired but fine overall.

-

-

@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray @black-sapphic @fapqueen

(Consider supporting me on Ko-fi)

[astarioffsimpmain]

Furthest from the Truth (Gale x F!Reader)

Pairing: Gale Dekarios x F!Reader

Warnings: Insecurity; indications of past trauma

Author's Note: Well, I was sad and this happened. It may become something, who knows?

It was soft, his presence. It enveloped you with all the tenderness of a lover; or, how you had always assumed a lover would be. Your prospective lovers had all known the words to say, the looks to give, the fleeting touches of promise to provide in order to send you straight off of the edge in search of them. But by the time you had reached the bottom, they had long gone, taking your trust and your love and your sanity with them. It was why, when Astarion had come to you with those eyes, those words, that promising touch, you had recoiled without even a thought. He looked hurt, you felt hurt. But you knew. You knew he had to want something; they always wanted… something. Everything. You had apologized. Gods, you always apologized. It was like the punctuation of your sentences and it escaped your lips before you could stop it. You had apologized and left the elf standing there alone, wondering where you were rushing off to in such a hurry. 

Surprisingly, even to you, you had rushed to him. He had been standing outside his tent with a glass of whine and beautifully flushed cheeks and it was as though a magnet inside of you had finally found its opposite and was pulling you to its mark. You couldn’t wait and you couldn’t stop and you allowed yourself to be drawn in. “I was hoping you’d spare me a moment. There’s something magical I wish to show you. More’s the pity you’ve already found someone else to make merry with. Just the two of you. He has a certain charm about him, Astarion.” 

Your eyes had widened. “What are you talking about?” The confusion you felt spilled over in your words and Gale gave pause.

“Did- did you not- were you not agreeing to, uhm… did you not mean to spend the evening with Astarion?” his smooth verbosity had all but vanished, and your cheeks warmed, a welcome display of nervousness and honesty in his gaze. 

“I promised no such evening to Astarion,” you murmured, and the wizard’s face lit up in response. “But perhaps I can promise my time to someone else?” Had you not been in the presence of the man himself, you would have slapped yourself for being so foolish. You shouldn’t be this bold. Being bold enough to assume he would want to spend this fine evening with you was a dangerous move; heartbreaking for you, almost certainly. You had cringed inwardly at your rashness. 

But your eyes had widened even further once Gale began to respond. “Indeed. I’m glad you feel the same way. But while I’m eager to enjoy your company on an exclusive basis later this evening, it would be selfish to keep you to myself before then. So please, go. Enjoy the festivities. Anticipation will only make our reunion sweeter.” 

And sweeter it was. You stood close to him now, a hair’s breadth away from his warmth, allowing yourself to sink deeper into the fiery umber burn of his eyes, far removed from sense and self preservation. Was this what it felt like? To feel safe; cared for. Is this what he felt with Mystra? A pang of hurt sharded through your heart, ugly and painful, and burrowed deep inside, lighting the rest of your nerves with a sharp ache. His beautiful face contorted in concern and the deep wrinkles between his brows reappeared as they knitted together. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice so soft you could barely hear it at all. He felt it; he felt your pain through the weave. 

You nodded, trying to reign it in; desperate not to frighten him off. Not so soon. You had only just gotten the chance to be near to him. You knew that eventually he would leave you, off to find something - someone - better, but you sought to keep him for as long as you could. His gentleness was addictive, veiling you in a feeling of genuine comfort. The way he looked at you like you were the only person around who held meaning stole the air from your lungs, robbing you blind of your common sense. You knew it had to be temporary. He would learn you, as they all did; learn you and realize that there are cracks in the confident veneer. And once he peered inside of those cracks, he would see your ugliness. He would see the things you so expertly hid; the things you had been taught over and over by others to tuck away into cold and dark places, never to see the light of day. Never to see the light of him. 

Perhaps you and Astarion were not so unalike after all. Perhaps that is why you ran from him. You did not like looking in the mirror.

~

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

Tease

Just Gale being a total freak. Gale x F!Tav, blood, spice, etc.

@netherese0rb @boufsy @owlseeyoulaterpal @lanafofana

@auroraesmeraldarose @aryancunin @amorgansgal

'I wanna see your animal side, let it all out, I wanna see the dirt under your skin, I need your broken promises.' - Death Valley, Fall Out Boy

Tav stood in the middle of the ruined landscape, taking heaving gulps of air. The shadows that had attacked them had disappeared in bursts of sickly green and they pressed on to the muted moonglow in the distance. One of the beseiged harpers had pointed it out, snapping that they should run for it if she perished. Tav led the group, barely thinking as they made their presence known and chose a camping spot away from the inn. Why they were not permitted to be inside she didn’t know, though she had an inkling there was little room for them.

The darkness had the unfortunate affect of making the air feel like a winter’s night; she shivered even as she built up a sweat helping everyone with their shelters. Gale appeared distracted- not unlike him, certainly, though he seemed a little more intense than usual.

‘Cold, Tav?’ said Karlach good naturedly as they passed each other. She carried a stack of dead wood under each arm. ‘We’ll have a fire going soon as. Where’s our rogue got to?’

‘Hunting, most like,’ said Halsin, bumping shoulders with Tav and almost sending her sprawling. ‘Oops! Sorry.’ He steadied her with a hand on her shoulder. ‘Silvanus knows what he’d eat out here, though.’ His eyes glittered impishly. ‘Unless you’ve been feeding him of course.’

‘Oh, behave,’ said Tav, blushing. ‘That was once.’

‘And where did Gale go?’

‘Huh?’ Tav scanned the campsite. Though his tent was set up, the wizard was nowhere to be seen. ‘I saw him a minute ago. He’s probably getting supplies for dinner?’ She sighed. ‘I’ll take a look. But there better be a fire going when I come back, it’s freezing.’

‘Relax,’ said Shadowheart, rolling her eyes. ‘I don’t know why you’re all so whiny. I feel fine.’

‘You would,’ shot Wyll. ‘This is Shar’s work, after all.’

‘Okay,’ said Tav. ‘I’ll leave you to your sniping. I’ll find the wizard. We’ll starve without him.’

‘Hey, I can cook,’ said Wyll, pouting a little as Tav turned her back and trudged off into the dark.

‘Gale?’ she called. ‘Everyone’s looking for you!’ He can’t have gone far. She misty stepped, walked a little further, scanning. ‘Gale!’ She was well away from camp now, clear on the other side of the lake.

‘Always one for walking into trouble, aren’t you?’ said a voice in her ear.

‘Gale? What the fuck?’ Her head whipped to the side, heartbeat picking up. ‘Why are you invisible?’ Stupid wizard.

‘I don’t want a search party looking for me,’ he said. His breath was hot on her ear. ‘Just you.’

‘Why?’ she asked, drawing the word out. ‘We need you back at camp, and-’

‘I wanted us to be alone.’

The cogs were turning in Tav’s head. ‘Hang on,’ she said slowly. ‘Is this about- about-’

‘Oh Tav, don’t play coy,’ he crooned. ‘I know you find this all as thrilling as I do. Now I admit,’ he said, sounding a little more like himself, ‘that I got a little tongue-tied. A little flustered. But now I think I can say what I want to say, knowing nobody but the one intended will hear it. But,’ he said, ‘perhaps it can wait. You’re so cold. We can’t have that…’

‘Turn visible, coward,’ said Tav, giggling. Gooseprickles rose on the back of her neck.

A snap and he was there in front of her, robes looking much the worse for wear, his face spattered with blood. ‘Dear me,’ he said. ‘You’re practically covered in blood and guts. Time for a bath?’ He tilted his head, smirked. His eyes were blazing.

‘You are too,’ she said boldly, gesturing. ‘Arterial, by the look of it. That’ll really mess up your hair if you’re not careful.’

Gale lunged forward, grabbing her face and smashing their lips together in a mess of tongue and teeth. She tasted blood and sweat on his lips, metal and salt. Groaning into her mouth he pulled at a slash in her robes and rended the fabric even further, mouth falling to the exposed skin of her shoulder to suck a bruise into her flesh. Her breathing stuttered and he hummed against her skin, dragging his teeth a little to pull a whimper from her. ‘Hnnngh, more of that,’ he said, kissing her mouth again.

‘What’s gotten into you?’ she gasped when he pulled away again to mark her neck. ‘I thought you couldn’t-’ she hissed as he dug his fingers into her thighs and growled.

‘As if that will stop me,’ he said darkly. ‘Not when you’re so fucking tempting-’

‘Gale, it’s not safe-’ She was between his teeth, latched onto the tender skin between neck and shoulder as he ground his hips against her. He applied sharp pressure in response and she yelped, half in pain, half surprise. He kissed the bite tenderly, pressed another kiss to the corner of her mouth.

‘I love seeing you covered in blood,’ he rasped. ‘Not that I want to see you hurt, but…’ he panted into her ear. ‘Fuck I love seeing you filthy.’

Tav could hardly breathe. This was not a side of him she’d ever anticipated. ‘You said we couldn’t-’

He laughed, a dark little growl. ‘We can’t. But I couldn’t resist giving you a little taste of what’s to come…’ he snapped his fingers and was gone, leaving her burning and frustrated in the dark.

[yukinarinn]

nsfw alphabet with ethan?? fem reader preferred <3

A/N: NAH CUZ I’VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT WHAT IF SOMEONE WOULD REQUEST THIS RIGHT AFTER I POSTED THE GALE ONE. Thank you so much!! also I’ll be definitely looking forward to your oneshots.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Very caring. He isn’t going to sleep with you until you take a shower together and clean each other up, while giving you sloppy kisses. But this might lead to another round…

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Chad literally had to “boost” Ethan’s confidence somehow by complimenting him, so he doesn’t really have a favorite body part.

But he definitely has one when it comes to you. I’d like to think he’s more into thighs and ass.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Ethan loves cumming inside of you (when you’re on birth control) but is also fine with cumming in your mouth. Seeing you swallow it will most likely get him hard all over again.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has a plenty of dirty pics/videos with you when you were touching yourself, and all of them are saved in one of the folders from his laptop.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He never had a girlfriend before, so everything he knows now is just what he experienced with you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Probably missionary. He loves you clinging onto him while he enters you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s quiet and like pretty quiet since he’s shy and doesn’t want to embarass himself in any way. But as long as you’re the one who makes jokes, he will keep going!

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Ethan does have some but not too much.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s very gentle at first, sweet kisses and love bites all over your body while he’s inside of you, or, eventually, his fingers doing the job. He can get a bit aggressive but he also calls you a good girl and tells you how good you feel/take him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He jerks off when he opens his laptop and accidentally clicks on that folder (or on purpose) He just likes seeing you all vulnerable in his bed.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He’s got so many kinks (that I’m probably not even aware of myself) since he used to be a virgin and have never been touched by a woman so he just googled them and saw what it fits for him the most. One of the kinks might be the daddy kink one, he gets hard when you call him daddy out of nowhere or in bed.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In the living room since it’s more spacious for you to fuck. Or in the bathroom, he will force you to look at yourself in the mirror while doing it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He gets turned on easily, especially when you walk past him wearing those cute lengerie just for him to see.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He might be a sadist, but he wouldn’t actually be too rough with you since he doesn’t want to hurt you in any way, unless you want to.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving. It’s just that he still doesn’t know much about females organs so he’s scared he will mess things up if he ever tries to eat you out. He watched several porn that contained it, but he knows porn is different from the real life.

However, you get turned on by giving him oral since he pulls your hair and degrades you and whimpers (🧎🏻‍♀️) when he’s close. It’s a win-win situation.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

As I said, he won’t get rough unless you want him to but usually he’s gentle and pretty slow, he likes taking his time and seeing you turned on and wet just for him. It gives him so much confidence to see that he’s really worth your time (poor guy haven’t dated anyone before you)

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Pretty often if you ask me. You both go to university and you don’t have much time to do anything. However, you wish you had more free time and not use the weekends mostly for sex.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

YEAH, especially when Chad isn’t out with Tara. Chad might be in the kitchen cooking something and Ethan sometimes asks you to let him fuck you while he’s at home but with one condition, holding back your moans. Which you can’t.. but that’s the interesting part!

Talking about other risks, he breeds you and he knows you might get pregnant even with birth control on since the condoms are “out of stock” for y’all 😭 you don’t really use protection. He gets off at the thought of you having his kids. And you probs do too. Fucking weirdos. (hj)

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Many rounds. He can’t get enough of you. If a round you and he think is too short, you’ll go for another one..and another..and the cycle never ends. Till you fall asleep.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He does own a mini vibrator with a remote control. You can’t even imagine how hard he gets when he sees your tired face while he’s overstimulating you with it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

I wouldn’t call it teasing, neither would he. He just likes taking his time!!

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He does whimper when he’s close and curses, stuff like that. At first he tried to hold in but you told him you get turned on whenever you hear those erotic noises he makes.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Phone sex. That’s it.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I gotta ask, how could you even take it? he’s like 6’5 and has a 7 inch dick, not to mention he also goes to gym and you fold everytime you see him doing push-ups, let alone doing you in bed. (smash)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very high. I don’t know what you’ve expected.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Right after you. But he’s a worried cutie patootie so he might ask you several times if you’re okay!

[anacdoce]

I Wish Chapter 6 - Bound by blood

Pairing: Astarion x you (f!reader, implied sorcerer)

Rating: T

Word count: 5.4k

Warnings: angst; hurt/comfort; some fluff

Summary: "After some time, Gale approaches slowly, his feet dragging on the floor. He kneels at Astarion’s side, lowering his head with his eyes closed, grieving. He lies his hand on yours, gently holding it, his touch reverent.

They remain like that for a while, side by side, mourning the loss of someone they both deeply cared for. That's when Gale senses something. Your ring is emanating some kind of vibration. He opens his eyes and he grabs your ring, on your finger, to confirm it. “Her ring is vibrating… How strange...”"

a/n: Here it is! The final chapter of this series! I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

@bloodlessdarling thank you! Your screenshots are perfect and I hope to use them again in the future <3 thank you, thank you, thank you!!

(some more notes at the end of the chapter)

Read on ao3

Previous chapter

Astarion holds you close, his body trembling with the force of his sobs. His grip is desperate, as if he fears letting you go will make this moment real. He rocks back and forth with you, crying and screaming, calling for you, calling your name.

Only once had he been like this, but at that time you were by his side, ready to give him your hand if he needed it. 

Not anymore.

He’s broken, shattered. No words can describe his feelings at this moment. His whole world has crumbled. 

His savior, his friend, his love.

All is lost. 

Forever. 

No more will he hear you laughing, that precious sound he loves so much. No more will he feel your soft touch on his skin. 

Nothing, no more.

I secretly fantasized you would succeed and survive this. That we would celebrate together, you preparing my first meal after so many years without being able to taste anything but blood. You, sharing with me your favorite meal ever, while we watched the sunset…  Now I will have to do it alone. I will have to rediscover how to live a mortal life again, without you, my darling, by my side. You were everything, and now I have nothing, again. 

“I don’t know how to do this without you, my love…” He mutters in your ear, crying in despair.

Meanwhile, Gale waits. He longs to be near you one last time, but his suffering is nothing compared to what Astarion is going through, so he waits, giving Astarion some space alone with your fallen body. He waits, crying in silence and feeling the guilt consuming him. It was him who brought the ruin for you two. How could he? This is all his fault. Astarion would never forgive him, neither should he. Hells, he would never forgive himself.

After some time, Gale approaches slowly, his feet dragging on the floor. He kneels at Astarion’s side, lowering his head with his eyes closed, grieving. He lies his hand on yours, gently holding it, his touch reverent.

They remain like that for a while, side by side, mourning the loss of someone they both deeply cared for. That's when Gale senses something. Your ring is emanating some kind of vibration. He opens his eyes and he grabs your ring, on your finger, to confirm it. “Her ring is vibrating… How strange...”

Astarion, lost in his sorrow, has completely forgotten about his ring. But he can still feel it too. “Mine is doing the same.” He manages to say between sobs. 

Gale looks at him intrigued. Then, a thought rushes through his mind, and he holds your wrist, leaning two fingers in the inside of it, making some pressure. Almost instantly he widens his eyes in surprise.

He starts moving frantically, trying to take you from Astarion’s lap, urgently. 

“What are you doing?! Leave her alone!” Astarion shouts, his voice high-pitched.

“Please, humor me, will you? Lay her on the floor, please.” Gale pleads, his hands moving with impatience. 

“No! You should leave! I don’t want you anywhere near me! I don’t need you anymore!”

“Astarion, you will do as I say. Lay her on the floor. It’s a matter of life or death. Afterwards, if you still want it, I’ll leave. I promise.” 

Astarion glares at him with hatred, but if this is the way to get rid of him, so be it. He gives you a tender kiss on your forehead and lays your body on the floor, ever so gently. 

His hands haven’t freed you yet when Gale leaps to you, leaning his head against your chest. “All right, that’s enough… I don’t even know why I listen to you.” Astarion tries to shove Gale away from you, but he points him a finger to make him wait.

“Shhh! Shut your mouth for a second! Let me listen.” He instructs, closing his eyes to concentrate on what he may possibly be doing.

Astarion forces his lips to stay shut, but he’s growing impatient. Gale has no right to take you from him. 

Suddenly, Gale starts laughing, his ear still glued on your chest.

“Gale… I will kill you with my bare hands if you don’t leave her alone right now! Why are you laughing? There is nothing here to laugh at, you madman!” Now Astarion is angry and he wants to throw his hands so badly in Gale’s neck.

“But there is! Her heart, Astarion… It’s beating! She’s alive!” He shouts, still laughing.

Astarion is speechless for a moment. His mouth hangs open, and a faint glimpse of hope appears in his eyes. “But… but how? I can’t hear it…”

Gale straightens up and gives Astarion an understanding smile. “Astarion, you are not a vampire anymore. You can’t hear it unless you lean your ear into her chest.” And he points his hand to you, inviting him to do just that.

After hesitating for a bit, Astarion lowers his head to your chest and listens. And then he hears it, that soft rhythm he’s so used to. The perfect music that so many times accompanied him in his rest. “She’s not dead…” He says still in shock.

“She is not.” Gale confirms it.

“She lives…” Astarion lifts himself from over you and stays at your side, staring at you in amazement. 

“She does. And I think I know what is keeping her alive.”   

“You know?!” 

Gale holds your hand once again, directing Astarion’s attention to your ring. “Her ring. Your ring. I can feel some kind of magic around it. Around her.”

Astarion frowns, he looks puzzled. How is it possible? Yes, he knows that rings can have magical powers. He has some. And you too. But nothing like this. Nothing so powerful like this. 

Then he remembers. Astarion remembers what the forger said about the blood. It could grant the rings some kind of magic. Could it be? Your blood? His? “May the blood be responsible for it?”

“Yes! That's my theory. Well, of course I’ll have to study this deeper, but I think it's your blood that’s protecting her. Some kind of ward, like…”

But Astarion's mind is already far away. His blood? Protecting you? Is it possible? You are alive because of him? Because you have his blood with you, and he has yours. 

The blood had brought you together. The first moment of intimacy between you. And now, the blood is holding your life, keeping you in this world, keeping you together, again. 

You will always be bound by it. 

You granted him his life back. And he is keeping yours. He saved you.

He leans to you again, caressing your face. Your soft, velvety skin. You didn’t leave him. You're still here. 

Nothing is lost.

“We have to take her out of here.” He says, determined. 

“Yes. She needs healing. I’ll try to keep her stable until we reach Waterdeep. I think I can conjure a portal to my tower, but we need to get out of this fog first. Shadowheart will be waiting for us there. I’ve just sent her a sending spell.”

“Waterdeep it is then.”

Astarion removes his cloak off his shoulders, and gently he lifts your unconscious body, wrapping the cloak around you. Afterwards, he holds you again more firmly in his arms. He positions your head to rest on his chest, and walks out of the ruin, carrying you.

“Don’t you want help to carry her?” Gale asks.

“No. I will carry her to Waterdeep. I would carry her to the end of the world if needed. After all she’s done for me, this is nothing.” 

And they walk through the fog with Waterdeep as their destination.  

—

Your head is dizzy. You can’t think straight. Your body is sore and your left cheek is stinging and itching. As you try to move an acute pain invades your belly and you stop breathing for a moment trying to get a relief from the sensation. When it calms down you make an effort to open your eyes, but everything around you is blurry. Blinking your eyes repeatedly, you perceive that you’re in a room. But not yours, you’re sure of it. You have a sensation of safety, but it’s clear that you don’t know where you are. 

Harder as you try, you can’t remember what happened to you, why are you here, whatever here may be, and why you feel so godsdamn weak!

A familiar weight presses against your thigh. You lean your head slowly to the side and look down to your legs just to find a silver haired man lying there, with his arms crossed beneath his head and his face turned away from you, sitting on a chair next to your bed. Astarion. 

His hair seems more disheveled than usual, and his back is moving, rising and falling, like he’s breathing. The sight of him soothes you, he’s here, and you can ask him what happened.

He looks so peaceful, resting close to you, warmed by a sunbeam on his back, a gift from an open window behind him.

Suddenly, your faint smile turns into a scared grimace and you try to speak, but the words won't come out. The sun Astarion! The sun! Please get out of here! Please! You have to warn him, or he’ll burn. You try to move, but your body doesn't want to obey your will. Only the pain seems to remain.

Panic is rising. You can feel it cruising through your veins. With a big effort you reach your arm, finally touching his hair, his soft curly hair. You move your fingers but Astarion doesn’t seem to notice it.

Desperately you start to whimper, the only sound that seems to escape from your mouth. He shifts his head, turning toward you, but his eyes are still closed. You take a deep breath and concentrate all of the remaining strength in your body to make it obey you. Then, without warning you move your leg where his head is resting, letting it fall to the mattress.

This movement has cost you a great deal of pain and you whimper once more, louder than before. But it was all worth it, because Astarion is rubbing his eyes, you interrupted his trance and you can finally warn him.

He looks at you, worried, and holds your hand, rubbing it with his thumb trying to give you some comfort. Your fingers buried deep in his flesh.

“Darling! You’re awake! Finally!” He smiles at you. A beautiful smile, but a strange one nonetheless. Something is missing…

But you keep restless and you try to speak again, “Ast… arion… Star…” You manage to mutter as you cry looking at him, frustrated.

“What is it, my dear? What do you need?” He leans closer to you.

He seems… strange? Different? But your eyes are still blurry, so you can’t quite understand what it is. And why isn’t he burning already? 

You look to the window, then back at him, moaning with pain. 

And he smiles again, an understanding tender smile. He cups your face with his hand, his warm hand in your skin. “Shhh shhh, Darling. It’s fine. Everything is fine. Now, you should rest. Your wounds are still healing. You have a lot to recover. I’ll be here. Waiting for you. I will always be here, my love.” He rests his forehead on yours while he hushes you a little longer. His hand, still holding yours.

Confused. 

You are so confused. Your head is a mess. You try to argue with him but there is no more strength left. Your mind is drifting away, your eyes are closing. All you can feel is his presence, like a cloud of affection is enveloping you. And you couldn’t feel more safe. So, you give in. You stop fighting. Your body needs it. 

And everything fades away, again.

—

You feel something or someone moving you. Something cold rubbing your flesh, in your belly. Opening your eyes you see Shadowheart, tending your wounds. You can see clearly now, and you can move more freely too. 

“Well, well, look who decided to join us once again?” Shadowheart greets you giving you a warm smile.

“Join you once again? What are you talking about? Ahh!” You wince, reacting to Shadowheart’s healing methods.

“Sorry, but this will hurt a little longer. You almost died, my friend. You drifted between life and death for too long. I’m glad I arrived just in time. If it weren’t for Astarion, you wouldn’t be here now…”

“For Astarion? What happened?”

“Can’t you remember anything? Your crazy adventure?”

You try to focus, reliving the last moments you can remember. Then someone knocks at the door, opening it next, and Gale peeks in. “Do you need my help, Shadowheart?”

“Yes, please. I need to move her. And you’ll be happy to see that our friend is awake.”

Gale steps into the room, rushing to your side, his eyes, anxious. “Oh! So good to see you awake!” He gives you a clumsy hug.

“Ahh! That hurts! Could you?... Sorry…”

“Forgive me! I couldn’t contain myself!” His eyes are now wet with emotion.

And suddenly you remember. You remember Gale telling you about a certain scroll. You remember Astarion avoiding that theme. And you remember spelling that wish, your wish, in that tomb.

Your heart, skipping in your chest.

“Did it work?! Tell me it worked! Where is Astarion?!” You shout, trying to lift from the bed.

“Easy now!” Shadowheart holds your shoulder, preventing your movement.

“All answers in due time. First, Astarion is fine, and he can tell you later if your ridiculous and irresponsible demand worked or not... He’s resting. We managed to make him leave from your side for the first time in three weeks. And you choose to wake precisely when he’s not here. He will be furious.” Gale chuckles at the thought.

“Three weeks? I’ve been out for three weeks?”

“Yes, my friend… you were in a terrible shape. Between life and death, remember?” Shadowheart leans you to the side with Gale’s help, and you hold his forearm to ease your pain.

“You gave us a lot to worry about. Worries enough for a lifetime if I might say.” Gale scolds you. 

“I'm sorry… I really am… I just wanted…” 

“We know. Don't need to be sorry. Now what you need is to recover. We’ll help however we can, the rest is up to you. So, no lifting from this bed until I say so.” Shadowheart interrupts you.

“Please, do as Shadowheart says. Whatever you need, you just have to ask. My tower is yours for as long as you need.” 

“So, we’re at Waterdeep?”

“Indeed we are.” Gale confirms it. “And tell us. How do you feel?” Gale asks.

“Sore. Tired. Weak. And I feel some numbness in the tip of my fingers. It's quite bothersome, really.” 

Gale looks sideways at Shadowheart, who momentarily stops what she's been doing. “And nothing else? Don't you feel like there's something missing?” He asks, carefully.  

“Hells yes something is missing! Astarion, for sure!” You answer impatiently. 

“Yes. No… I mean, do you feel something is missing in you?” 

You frown, puzzled. But as you're about to speak, you focus your attention on your fingers, brushing your thumb over them. Something was robbed from you. Something that was yours from birth. You try to cast light. That simple spell that you had cast hundreds of times before. But you can't. Somehow, you just can't. Your inherent magic is gone.

“How?” You ask, still not believing it.

“That’s what I thought.” Gale sighs. “We think that your wish consumed everything powerful in you. Your innate connection to the weave included. You paid the cost dearly, my friend. I can't tell you if this is permanent. This is all new to me too. But you do well to consider it lost, I'm afraid.”

“Oh…” All of your life you used your magic without even thinking. It was natural. It was yours. And now it’s gone. All for him. And you know you would do it again. All of it. “So… it worked. Didn’t it?”

“It’s time to tell Astarion you’re awake. He will kill me if I don’t warn him. Excuse me for a moment.” Gale leaves you alone with Shadowheart again.

Anxiety courses through you. How is he? Is he angry with you? Will he forgive you? He must have been through a lot of pain too… seeing you like that, tied to a bed, not knowing if you were ever going to wake up again. 

“Let’s see your ear now.” Shadowheart interrupts your thoughts, moving your head to the right side. “He's destroyed, you know?” She says, cleaning your skin near your earlobe.

You breathe deeply, feeling the weight of her words. 

All my fault. 

After a while, she continues, “I never thought I would see him like this… his hair unkempt, wrinkled clothes, not in a mood for sarcastic jokes… There were days he wouldn’t leave your side for nothing, and we wouldn’t hear a word from him. But there were others where it seemed the world was ending, and it was everybody's fault. On those days, no one could touch you but him. He tended to your wounds more times than I would like, but it was that or it was nothing. So, I taught him what to do. And I have to say I was impressed, really. 

What I mean is, back then, at your wedding, I doubted him. But I doubt him no more. He loves you deeply, my friend. His suffering was heartbreaking. And I hope to never see him like that again. I cried for you and for him, at your bedside, next to him, because everyday he asked me the same question, and everyday I didn’t have an answer to give him.”

“What was it?” You ask, your throat tightening. 

“If you would ever wake up again… You see, your wounds were severe, infected with necro magic from the blades of those skeletons. And you lost a lot of blood as well. You drifted for some days before reaching Waterdeep, just with Gale’s simple healing spells to help you. It was something, but it wasn’t enough. When you arrived, I was already waiting, and I did the best I could, but the effects of the necro magic were already deep in you, and the wounds seemed unresponsive to the treatment. Not to mention the spell you casted… it stripped everything from you. There were things I couldn't predict or knew how to deal with. And the only thing we could do was to wait. Because you were fighting, and we had to trust that you would make it. When Astarion ran to me last week, begging to check on you because you had awakened, we knew that we were on the right path.”

“I had already been awake? I don’t remember…” You mutter.

“Yes, it was quite an episode. You were a mess, full of open wounds, and your only concern was telling Astarion that he was exposed to sunlight.” She finishes her work on you and sits at the edge of the bed, at your side. “Since that day, Astarion has been more reassured. He started to eat properly…”

“Wait. So, Astarion was exposed to the sunlight and didn’t burn?” Your eyes widen.

“No, he didn’t.”

“And he eats properly now?” You ask slowly.

“He does. He’s quite fond of mushrooms, it seems. Always asking for them.” She gazes at you smiling, a big tender and compassionate smile. 

You reach for her hand, your eyes pouring tears. “Thank you. For everything.”

“There is nothing to be thankful for. We did nothing that you wouldn’t do for us.”

You hear a loud noise outside, some rushing steps approaching. The door of your room stands open, and Astarion is there, perplexed, looking at you. He freezes for a moment, his hands shaking.

“Well, I think it’s time for me to leave. If you need me, shout my name.” Shadowheart leaves your side, gently pushing Astarion into the room as she passes by him. She closes the door, leaving you alone with him.

“Hello handsome.” You manage to speak. Your heart seems to want to jump out of your chest. He’s there, your beautiful, not-so-pale anymore elf. Your husband. Your love.

He runs to you, leaping onto the bed, holding you in his arms. He brushes his face against your neck, smelling you. Every drop of your scent is his, and he wants to collect what is his. One of his hands supports your back and the other cradles your head, pressing it against him. He holds you like he never did before, and you hold him like you know you will do for the rest of your life. Because he deserves everything you did for him. He deserves to be loved.

Suddenly, he pulls back, leaning you against the bed. Holding your shoulders, he looks at you and his expression changes. Astarion is serious now. “What in the sweet hells were you thinking?!” His voice high-pitched.

“Astarion, I’m sorry. I didn’t want…”

But he doesn’t want to know anymore. He cups your face with his hands, and you see his eyes, his beautiful eyes, looking into yours intensely. Then he gifts you with a trail of clumsy kisses throughout your face. Your heart swells with emotion. He has forgiven you. 

Your face is a mess of tears, yours and his. But he doesn’t seem to care. Astarion is committed to giving you every single kiss that he couldn’t give in the last few weeks. And you are grateful for it. You need it. 

Still cupping your face, Astarion pauses at your lips. He touches them with his tongue, softly, making you shiver. You hold onto his forearms, pressing him to you. And he takes his time, savoring you once again, after so long. When his tongue finally meets yours, nothing else matters. Not the pain in your body, not the magic that you lost. Nothing. Just him matters. 

Astarion rests his nose on yours, his eyes closed. His warm skin against yours. “Please, don’t you ever do anything like this again. Ever.” His voice filled with emotion, trembling.

“I won’t. I promise.” 

You stayed like that for a while, holding each other. After some time you shift to take a proper look at his face. “Let me see you.” His skin, touched by the color of the blood running through his veins, his fangs are missing, and his eyes… oh his eyes are of the most beautiful color you could ever have imagined. He’s different but he’s the same. Your star. “How is it? How does it feel to be reborn again?” 

“Well, if you ignore the fact that you nearly broke my newborn heart…” 

“I know… It was stupid. I never should have gone there alone. But I didn’t want you to stop me. You made it clear you’d never agree with this.”

“It was very stupid, Darling. Very stupid!” He taps his hand on your temple. “But you’re right. I was stupid too. And for that I’m sorry. I’ve learned my lesson. From now on, I will hear you out to the end. And you will hear me too, hey?”

“That’s a deal.”

“But answering your question, it feels… nice. It was strange at first, I was always aware of my breathing, like I had to think how to breathe. The food has been quite a discovery, actually. I didn’t remember the taste of anything, but I remembered the smells, when you were preparing your meals. And some things don’t quite taste like they smell… Hurgh.”

You giggle. It’s quite a sight, imagining him disgusted for certain foods. “But I hear you like mushrooms very much.”

“Oh yes! My favorite so far. But… I haven’t been able to taste almost anything to be honest. My only concern was you, my sweet.”

“It seems I’ve robbed you the opportunity to properly savor my gift to you…” You murmur with sadness.

“Don’t you worry about that. I have a lifetime to savor it. And more importantly, with you by my side, my love. 

“I just wish I could have been…”

“No, no! No more wishes for you, Darling!” He chuckles, landing a finger on your lips.

You laugh, but with it comes the pain from your belly wound. “Ah!”

“You’re still in bad shape. How are you feeling? Can I do something for you?”

“No, I’m fine. I’ll manage. Nothing I can’t overcome when I look at you. When I remember why I did it.”

“Gale said you might have lost your magic, my dear.” He says, anguish in his voice.

You look at the palms of your hands, feeling that stubborn numbness in the tip of your fingers. “Yes, I did.”

“All because of me…” Astarion lowers his head, feeling guilty.

“And I would do it again!” You lift his chin, making him look at you. “Astarion, I was willing to give my life for you. This is nothing. You hear me? Nothing. I have no regrets nor will I ever have.”

“Well, I guess both of us have much to adapt to in our renewed life together.” 

“I guess we do.” Your smile, full with affection. 

Astarion holds your hand, his gaze never leaving yours. 

Suddenly, you remember something you need. Something you want so badly. “Is there any mirror around?”

Astarion smiles at you. He knows what you want. He reaches for a hand mirror standing in the nightstand, besides the bed, and gives it to you. You make an effort to sit on the bed, pulling Astarion closer to you. You lift the mirror in front of you, and like a dream that comes true, he is there, his reflection by your side, leaning his face against yours. “Now you can see how beautiful you are.”

“Darling, I never doubted that.” He smirks.

“Obviously not!” You chuckle. “This is so precious, Love… I can’t believe it…” You say, arranging a strand of his curly hair to the side.

“Believe it, because it's real. And all thanks to you, my dear. Thank you, this was a very precious gift. I won’t forget it.”  He takes the mirror away and looks directly at you, his eyes full of affection. 

He had thanked you before in your life together. But not like this. This has reached deep into your bones, into your soul, and you feel blessed by his words. You have given him the greatest gift. You had that honor. He’s free from his curse and he can live his life however he wants. Your life’s mission is done. Now, you can rest. 

You lean back on the bed and you start crying. Tears dripping at your face uncontrollably. “I would have lived with you in the shadows forever. But you… you deserved so much more. I couldn’t… I just couldn’t… and now it’s done.” You sob, hiding your face with your hands.

Astarion holds your hands, moving them away from your face, and wipes your tears, gently. “I know, Darling. I know.”

You gaze at him tenderly, reaching your hand to his chest. “Can I?”

Astarion holds your hand again and leads it to his heart. He presses it against his skin, and you feel it. You feel that glorious beating inside. That beautiful drum full of life. His heart.

“My love, you can do anything.” He kisses you again and lies beside you, embracing you. And for the first time in weeks you feel at home, and you know he feels the same. 

—

Day by day, your wounds get better. And in no time Shadowheart allows you to step out of bed for the first time. The first days you stayed in Gale’s tower, but soon enough you were able to go outside. Astarion was always by your side, giving you his arm to support you at first, but later because he couldn’t stand to be away from you. 

One day, you decide to go to the docks to watch the sunset together. Passing through the market, you buy some candies to enjoy with Astarion. You are determined to spoil him forever.

You find a secluded place to sit and watch the boats roaming through the waters of Waterdeep while the sun disappears into the horizon. 

Astarion lies on the ground, with his head on your lap, completely addicted to the candies you bought, while you run your hand through his hair.  “I think chocolate is my favorite. Hum… it’s so good!” He licks the melted chocolate from his fingers.

“Next time I’ll buy you a box full of chocolates.”

“I’d like that!” He says between licking and sucking his fingers.

“Astarion?” 

“Yes, Love?”

“What happened after I made my wish?” 

Astarion sets the bag of candies on the floor beside him and leans his face upwards to look at you. “Our rings happened.”

“Our rings?”

“When we arrived in Waterdeep, I gave my ring to Gale for him to study. We suspected that they had some kind of protective magic, and Gale confirmed it. The magic present in your blood made the rings very special. You see, you can feel when my life is in danger. The ring warns you. But more importantly, your blood protects me and mine protects you, my sweet. When you fell on the ground of that ruin, you were supposed to be dead. But the ring warded you, and you survived. So, you are forbidden to take that ring off your finger. Do you understand?” He points you a finger of his own, frowning.

“Your blood saved me?” 

“My blood. Me, Astarion, saved you, Darling. Isn’t it ironic how blood surrounds and binds our lives together, even now that I’m not a vampire anymore?”

“Do you miss it? Being a vampire?” A faint of fear invades you.

“Well, I would be lying if I tell you that I don’t miss to taste your delicious blood, the glorious sensation I felt after drinking it. I will never forget it, my dear. I felt more powerful back then, and surely I will miss that too.”

“Oh…” You break eye contact with him. You shouldn’t have asked.

“Sweetie, look at me.” Astarion sits beside you, holding your chin. “Nothing will erase my past, and I have enough scars to remember it. Some memories are terrible, but others were my solace through the storms we faced. So yes, I will miss some things. But I don’t miss being a vampire. I don’t feel that insatiable hunger anymore. I can see the sun rising without fear of burning. And I can live knowing I won’t have to survive your departure from me, remembering forever how perfect my life was, only for a moment.”

You lean closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder, watching the pink sky painted by the setting sun. “What do you want to do when I can leave Waterdeep?”

“I’m glad you asked because I have some plans for us, Mrs. Ancunin.” 

“You do? Do you have a schedule now?” You tease him.

“Silly girl. I don’t, but I could have, actually. First we’ll head north to visit Neverwinter. I heard it’s the most cosmopolitan and civilized city in all of Faerun. I can’t wait to spread some chaos there. Can you imagine?”

“Astarion!” You hit him playfully in his ribs with your elbow.

“What? I’m no saint, Darling.”

“Alright. And after?”

“After, I want to see the glaciers.”

“Do you, now? I never thought you liked the cold so much.” You giggle.

“Well, I don’t. But Gale showed me some paintings of them, and I’m curious, all right?” He waves his hands in the air as he lowers his voice, just a little.

“Sure, Star. And what else?”

“Then we go to…”

You hear him telling you his plans for the next few months, while the sun sets and the moon takes its place in the sky. Your heart swells at his voice. His confidant voice, telling you his plans.

You hold his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and he leads your hand to his chest. To his beating heart. You don’t see his face, but you know he’s smiling. And you smile too. A smile full of love and tenderness.

He keeps talking, and you listen. 

And you will listen. And you will follow. And you are his. Until the day your heart stops beating.

Fim

a/n: Thank you to everyone who joined me on this journey! I never thought I would be able to write something like this, and although it's not a masterpiece, I'm so proud of it 😭

See you soon! Maybe :)

Thank you so much for reading my story. Likes, reblogs and comments are very welcomed!

Lots of love 🖤

[chaoticbardlady99]

She's My Religion (Part 1: She's Cold, She's Dark, She's Cynical) Astarion x F! Reader

   Hello! I have been plagued with an idea! Enjoy! This will probably be a four part story, but I am not sure just yet!

Title from song “She’s My Religion” by Pale Waves

CW: Parental death, grief, murder, domestic violence, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of emotional abuse.

Synopsis- You are a paladin under the Oath of Vengeance. You escaped the noble life that was unwillingly thrust upon you. Now, on your way to kill your evil step-father while trying to find a solution for the parasite in your head- you find out he’s promised your hand in marriage to Lord Cazador Szarr and that he’s taken your mom’s life. Looking for some comfort- you go to Astarion, but you don’t hear the words you were hoping for.

*Gif does not belong to me- could not find original owner

Karlach whoops and cheers as she releases you from a rib crushing hug- Wyll and Gale are grinning from ear to ear. You are all elated for her that Dammon was able to figure out how to cool down her engine- even if temporarily.

  You know that she doesn’t want to hear about the future and the harm not going back to Avernus will cause so you don’t say anything while Wyll tries to lecture her. You are barely listening as the two of them go back and forth, but when Wyll glances back at you with a look that screams, “Can you please help me out over here?”

  You chuckle at your close friend’s distress and shake your head at him. Wyll adores Karlach- you know he would give her his own heart if he could. He just needs to let her come to her own decision- you’d like to think that Karlach might decide to go back until they can come up with a permanent solution. However, at the end of the day, it’s Karlach’s decision. You are just as unhappy with the impending doom your bubbly companion is facing, but that is not your weight to carry.

  “Unfortunately Wyll, I am going to support whatever Karlach wants to do for as long as I can emotionally tolerate it,” you give Karlach a playful punch in the arm, “you’re not allowed to die on me, ya know?”

  Karlach rolls her eyes and smiles- pulling you in for an awkward walking side hug.

 “Don’t worry Soldier- I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

    You all begin to head back to camp from Last Light Inn when Jaheira calls you from afar, waving you over. You look at your companions and they look back at you- equally as confused. You tell them that you will catch up with them in a little bit and they leave you there alone. Cautiously, you walk towards her- she did just threaten to kill you not even 72 hours ago and what an eventful 72 hours it has been. 

  You killed a devil, almost died killing that Devil, found out Astarion’s life is in far more danger than initially thought, watched Astarion convince a weird man to drink himself to death, watched an even weirder man be inhabited by a dead lady, fought shadows, and now, Karlach can hug people. 

  Life could not be any weirder, but you gladly welcome it over the mansion you had been trapped in after your mother married your step-father. The day you escaped from there had been bliss- despite how much you miss your mother. Your mother had been of noble human blood before she met your father (an elf). After one late night tryst and falling pregnant, her title had fallen significantly. She married your father and you had all lived happily together in Baldur’s Gate. You grew up poor, but Duke Ravenguard always tried to make sure you and your family had been taken care of. You grew up with Wyll Ravenguard and you have been tight knit friends almost your whole lives. 

  Until you were 14.

  Count Bridril Von, a high Sorcerer, had not forgotten your mother nor her breaking her promise to marry him by becoming pregnant by another. After your father died, he found your mother and enchanted her to become a mindless puppet. She would break occasionally, but ultimately you were left to fend for yourself against your 9 step-siblings (5 girls, 4 boys) and Bridril Von- who enjoyed taking out all his anger and hatred for your father on you. The only times he would claim you as one of his own would be when you had competed in various competitions and won- outranking his sons. The publicity he got from having a little sharp shooter and for “raising his darling step-daughter after she so horribly lost her hero father” was incredible. You became a show pony- a pretty, malleable little thing that was forced to perform and excel so that she could be treated with basic respect.

 The minute you were able to escape the Mansion from the Hells, you ran to the docks, bought a ticket to Silverymoon, took an Oath of Vengeance, and now you are here with an illithid parasite in your head. At first you had thought you were the unluckiest person in the world when you were kidnapped by a mind flayer, but your companions have quickly made the whole journey worthwhile- Astarion especially.

  You had met him before in your previous life as a troublemaking bastard and you had had conversations before- nothing too crazy nor serious, just quips and flirting back and forth. Astarion had been at the mansion frequently or you at the palace because your oldest step-sister, Daisy Von, is (was?) due to marry Lord Cazador Szarr. It was no secret to anyone, not even Daisy, that Cazador wants to marry you due to your likeness of a long lost love of his, but you are not of royal blood. Cazador would lose his alliance with Bridril if he married his boorish, rebellious, and unwanted step-daughter- despite your many achievements. You were grateful. You didn’t want to marry the man and Daisy was foolishly smitten- she could have him for all you care. That was your mentality before you knew he was a Master Vampire.

  Your family and Astarion’s ‘family’ spent a lot of time together. Astarion had become your escort around the palace grounds because Bridril did not want you to take the spotlight away from Daisy. 

 Originally, it had been Pale Petras, but you had unceremoniously kicked him in the balls after he had said something rather unbecoming towards you and had to be physically dragged away by Leon before he tried to kill you or worse. Astarion had immediately taken a liking to you for that alone. 

  When you had stumbled upon each other at the beach after the Nautiloid crash, it had been a little over two years since you had last seen each other. Without the watchful eyes of Cazador, your friendship and romantic relationship has blossomed. 

   You had been weary at first, worried that he was just getting close to you because he knew how much it would piss off Cazador if Astarion were to be with the one person Cazador could not have. Now, you are about 95 percent sure that isn’t the case, but you remain alert- just in case. 

  You are used to being used for an upperhand in the world and you hope everyday that you are more than an advantage against Cazador to him because he truly means everything to you. 

  Which is maybe why you are quite agitated with Jaheira taking precious minutes away from you that could be spent with your love. You offer her a smile as she holds out a letter.

 “A letter? For me? Oh Jaheira, you shouldn’t have!”

   Jaheira hides her amusement behind a scowl, “it came through here magically. Rolan was able to calm down the little portal it came flying through- I suggest waiting until you reach Baldur’s Gate to be sending and receiving mail.”

   You apologize and walk towards camp, opening and reading the contents in the letter. The letter rips open your entire body and it feels like the ground is going to cave in. You read and reread the letter multiple times- standing between the edge of Last Light Inn and the edge of Camp, not even 5 feet away. 

  Tav,

  My name is Mary, I was your mother’s lady in waiting. You were always so busy that we never got the opportunity to meet. I am sorry to tell you that I only have bad news.

 The Count had received an offer from Lord Cazador Szarr two weeks ago regarding marrying you that he is not going to refuse- initially he was, but then you continued to not come home and he became bitter. 

  Cazador expressed urgency regarding getting you back to Baldur’s Gate. Bridril has hired mercenaries to hunt for you.

  Bridril killed your mother- the whispers in the castle say it was not an easy or quick death. My understanding is that you took an Oath of Vengeance so I hope Bridril is on your list. Your mother was the kindest woman I have ever had the privilege of meeting.

   I know she would want you to know that she loves you, is proud of you, is watching out for you, and knows you are off to do great things. 

  Keep vigilant and may Selune bless your path.

  -Mary

     No. This isn't happening to you. You are only days- maybe even a week or two away from going back home, killing Bridril, and freeing your mother. You were going to be a family again. You wanted to introduce her to your companions and buy a nice little home to live in with her like you used to when you were little. You were going to tell her all about your adventures, your time on the Pirate ship that took you to Silverymoon, your life there as a Paladin, and his whole fucking excursion.

   She’s gone and the wail that threatens to crack open your chest is suffocating. You quickly walk to Astarion’s tent, where you have been sleeping most nights, and he’s not there. Of all the times you really need him to not be doing anything and yet! You shove the letter back in the envelope and absentmindedly throw it to another part of the tent- not looking and not caring. Your grief feels like it may kill you and you just need to be held- to know and feel like you aren’t completely alone in the world right now. 

    After a brief chat with Halsin, you discover Astarion is hanging out with Shadowheart behind her tent. You make haste that way- hoping they won’t be too mad that you are interrupting their wine and gossip time. You had gotten back earlier than anticipated and in other circumstances you might wait until he is done, but you aren’t in your right mind. 

  You approach the tent and hear them talking on the other side, facing the forest, and sitting on a log. The tears begin to manifest in your eyes as relief floods you- you are so close to feeling okay again.

  “How bloody hard is it to nicely, lovingly tell someone that you’ve been deceiving them this whole time?”

  You stop dead in your tracks. 

  No. 

  “Look, there is no good way to say it,” Shadowheart says, “you just need to own up to it and then be honest about all of it.” 

 “Oh yes because ‘I planned on seducing you, sleeping with you, and manipulating you from the start’ is such a great opener,” Astarion scoffs, “there has to be some other way to make it flow with the rest of it. A better way to tell her.”

  “No need,” you speak up miserably, coming around the corner, “you just did. Wasn’t that hard was it?”

  Astarion and Shadowheart look absolutely shell shocked to see you standing there. Astarion looks like he’s about to throw up as he gets up and looks at you softly, a pleading, panicked look in his eyes.

  “Darling!” he says, getting up, laughing nervously“you’re back early. I- can we-”

  “Whatever we are,” you say with a glare, tears now pouring and with as much hatred in your voice as you can muster, “or whatever you were pretending I was to you- it’s over.” 

  Astarion’s entire face falls while he’s staring at you and he looks like he might cry, he opens his mouth, “Darling, pl-”

   Shadowheart looks like she is about to speak up for him too, but you are far too angry, far too hurt- far too lonely right now in the world to let yourself be tricked into staying with him. They are best friends, she’s probably in on it too. 

 “No! I hate you so much!,” the venom in your voice being watered down by your anguish, “I hate you more than I thought I could ever hate anyone- undead, dead, or alive! I trusted you and you used me for your own gain- so unkindly, go fuck yourself!”

   You spin around on your heels, race over to your tent, and tie the flaps tightly shut. You slump to the ground and just sob- grabbing your mother’s old blanket that you had stolen before you left. You scream into it silently and all the pain in your body is threatening to make you burst apart at the seams. You wouldn’t be surprised if you did. 

  In less than an hour you have lost your mother, Astarion, and potentially your freedom. Astarion had used you to get one up on Cazador and he succeeded. Now that he knows what Cazador’s ritual is- he’s decided he’s done with you and every step you make has to be done cautiously because one slip up and you are going to be the consort to a fucking Master Vampire after fighting to avoid this for so long. All because Astarion just had to poke the bear. 

Astarion signed your fate using your blood as ink.

   Your throat is raw and your head is pounding by the time your lungs feel like they know how to properly breathe again. You hear someone knock on one of the wooden beams of your tent and you scoff.

  “It’s just me Tav,” Wyll says softly, “can I come in.”

     You get up and untie the tent flaps numbly. You look at Wyll, eyes puffy and red- your face streaked with tears. As Wyll walks into your tent, you get a glimpse of Astarion looking crestfallen as you invite Wyll in. You just scrunch your nose up in disgust at him before closing your tent. 

    Wyll is sitting down on your bedroll and you sit down right next to him- both of you looking at the ground. Wyll gently puts his hand on top of yours and smiles at you with his signature gentle, I’m here, grin.

 “My mom’s dead, Wyll.”

  “What?” 

 “Bridril killed her. She had snapped out of whatever hold he had on her when he agreed to marry me off to Cazador,” you choke out between sobs, “he killed her for trying to protect me. Now? I am officially going to be married off to a Master Vampire the minute I step foot in Baldur’s Gate if Bridril has his way.”

  “Oh Tav…”

 “And then! To make matters even worse?,” you look at him with disbelief and your voice sounds borderline hysterical now, “I overheard Astarion and Shadowheart prepping his ‘I’ve been using you this whole time and I’m ready to break-up’ speech. He was trying to figure out how to be nice about it.”

  Wyll stares at you with bewilderment. He is absolutely silent as you break down sobbing again, but he pulls you into him and you put your head on his shoulder.

  “I fe-feel so alone,” you manage to say coherently, “and so frightened.” 

  “I know you do my dear friend,” Wyll strokes your hair as make a mess of his shirt, “but you have Karlach, Gale, Lae’zel, Halsin, Scratch, and even an Owlbear Cub for Gods sake!”

  You smile at the emphasis on your rather dangerous furry friend. Wyll had asked what you were going to do with him when you got back to Baldur’s Gate and when you didn’t have a plan- both of you were a little horrified. You both decided to send it to Daisy as an engagement present once it’s big enough to stomp on Cazador and Daisy mid-wedding.

  “And besides,” Wyll says, “you’re my closest friend. I won’t allow you to be alone nor face this alone. I’m probably the best monster hunter you know.”

 “You are also the only monster hunter I know.”

  Wyll rolls his eyes and smiles brightly at you, “That’s besides the point, but I am going to let you sleep. You look like you need it.” 

   Wyll places a soft kiss on your forehead before he leaves your tent.

  “Thank you Wyll.”

    He turns around and smiles, “Any time Tav.”

_________________________________________________

Tag-list: @spacebarbarianweird @domainoflostsouls

[tragedybunny]

omg your requests are open? If you're okay with some angst but a sweet ending, can I please request Astarion overhearing the others trying to warn you about Astarion? Like, telling the reader (female please) that he doesn't actually care or like her and she just looks sad and says "I know, but I'm stupid and care about him" and he just gets upset and wants to prove that he does like her? Sorry if this is dumb, haha

Hi Anon, My usual apologies for the wait. I wanted to do a different spin on this because I always find it a little jarring that Astarion confesses to you and then is so prickly about killing the Orthon to get information from Raphael. I always wondered if it occurred to him he was being kind of a jerk about it. So this scene plays out in the second act.

This Is Me - Astarion x F!Reader

Astarion lurked at the outskirts of camp, unable to bring himself to come face you. After everything he'd told you, after those moments of hope, he'd failed, himself and you. The Orthon, he’d been less than gracious about getting around to killing the devil. And after, gods, why did he talk to you like that? Because the scars on his back felt like they burned, and his mind had screamed at him since you'd said they were infernal. Even though he knew you'd been upset, you'd only turned away, saying that it was probably wise to rest before pursuing Thorm’s relic further. 

You all had made a makeshift camp in the heart of Shar’s sanctuary, where not even Shadowheart seemed wholly at ease. And he’d hidden like a coward until now, when he’d finally been able to push himself to come find you. Creeping back to camp, he’d been silent, trying to figure out where you were without running into any of the others, he couldn’t take whatever disdain he’d find in their eyes either. 

He’d made it close to your shared tent when the sound of Shadowheart’s voice had frozen him where he stood. “I’m not saying he’s not sincere, I’m just saying, we all know Astarion by now. He looks out for himself first.” 

“I understand where you’re coming from,” even if you didn’t sound convinced, the fact that you even had to say those words was enough for him to feel like his unbeating heart was shattering behind his rib cage. 

“She has a point Soldier, I like Fangs well enough, but you know how he can be. Just be careful with yourself,” Karlach added. Did they all believe he only thought about himself? 

“We just don’t want to see you get hurt.” Of course, Gale had to add to it. 

“I know you’re all concerned, and I know how he can be, but I care about Astarion.” He didn’t need to hear anymore. No one had managed to spot him, so he slipped into your shared tent and tried not to fall apart. 

Everyone in this damned camp wanted to warn you away from him, and the worst part was that they weren’t wrong. How long had it taken him to behave like an arse to you? He did care though, that wasn’t a lie or a scheme. Where you’d accepted it before on just his word, it felt he’d have to prove it now, since he’d gone and messed everything up.  He just didn’t know how.

Huddled on the floor of the tent, he pulled his knees up to his chest, and frantically thought.

Sex was out of the question, even if he could bring himself to do it, you’d see through it in a heartbeat. What else did he have? A lot of pretty words and burdens, which you already shouldered. He glanced around the tent at his scattered, sparse belongings, noting you hadn’t even had time to unpack yet. Maybe that was the answer. 

If there was more said about him, he hadn’t heard, intentionally blocking out whatever other sounds he heard. He assumed there was dinner, at some point, nothing for him to miss there. You appeared in the entrance to the tent far sooner than he had expected though, and caught him still packing things in his bag. “So that’s it, you’re just going to up and leave? And here I was getting worried you’d been gone so long tonight.” Your voice was deadly calm and he couldn't tell if you were sad or furious. 

Closing his eyes, he centers himself, trying not to get lost in the maelstrom inside his own mind. Standing, he looked you in the eyes, pained to find unshed tears sparkling there, but this was for the best. “I’m going to face Cazador, and whatever he’s done to me, alone.”

“W-what? Is this because of the Orthon?” The words fade into a stunned whisper, you don’t understand what he’s trying to do. Desperately, he gropes for your hand, to comfort you, to explain to you, but you pull away. “You’ll just abandon me because I didn’t kill it quick enough?’

“Love, no! I just need to do this on my own. To show you.” The words run out and he clenches and unclenches his hands frustratedly. 

“By the gods, show me what?” 

“That I’m not using you. That I do care about you for more than what you can do for me. I’ll go to Baldur’s Gate and when I’m done I’ll wait for you.” 

With it all said, Astarion waits in the silence for your response. He waits far longer than he thought he would. Really, he’d thought you’d embrace the idea after everything he’d overheard. “Astarion,” you begin sweetly, and you have his rapt attention, “are you out of your fucking mind?” You grasp his shoulders and clench them tightly, fingers digging in, emphasizing your words. 

“I…of course not!” He tries half-heartedly to pull out of your grip, but you don’t seem keen to let him go. “But you don’t trust me any more so what,” his voice cracks unpleasantly and you release his shoulders, arm wrapping around his chest, “what else can I do.” 

Instinctively, he returns your embrace, burying his face in your shoulder. “You heard all that, didn’t you? I’m so sorry, I just didn’t want them to worry about it anymore.” 

“What if they're right? I'm not sure that I can think about anyone else first until this is done, and I fear I’m going to hurt you.” He doesn't look up from where he's pressed against your skin, not wanting to see if you agree. 

“I knew that Astarion, it was obvious from the start.” You let go and push away, putting space between the two of you as your hand comes to cup his cheek and hold his gaze on yours. “We'll deal with this together, just like I promised.” 

You plant a small kiss on his cheek and he almost sobs, pulling you back into a fierce hug. “You…”

“Silly girl?” You finish with a small laugh.

“Incredibly sweet and wonderful girl.”

“Now you're just trying to flatter me.” He can hear the relief in your voice. “Unpack, please. I’m exhausted and your bag is in the middle of our tent.”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” There really is no fighting you once you’ve made up your mind, and he doesn’t really want to go anymore. 

“Absolutely not, silly boy.” The kiss you give him is soft and warm enough that it chases away his lingering doubts, for tonight at least. 

Tag List:

@micropoe10 @spacebarbarianweird @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21 @tallymonster @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin @bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly @elora-the-slutty-songstress @astariongf

[secret-smut-sideblog]

As It Was

Gale x F! Tav

(AA break up series, part 11, final)

18+ domestic bliss, restraint, oral (f!), breast worship (f!), rimming (f!), squirting, forced orgasm, confrontations, battle, self sacrifice, amputation (explicit), grief release, hurt/comfort, feelings of undeserving, tenderness

All out of time, Tav must save her lost love from himself. With a warm hand at her back, and shaking fear in her heart, will her sacrifice be worth the cost?...

Masterlist, Prev Chapter

-

She had to tell him. She knew she did.

"Mmm," Gale hummed, pleased. Her hands coming up to his chest. Pressing her body into his back. "And a good morning to you too."

She couldn't put it off any longer. It would be irresponsible.

Pressing her nose into his spine, she nuzzled in. Hands cupping his pecs.

"Careful there," He laughed, a slight hitch in his voice. "I've got hot oil up here."

If she could just get one more night with all of her limbs tangled endlessly in his.

If she could just show him how much he meant to her, how deeply she wanted him to feel loved. Maybe that would be enough.

Giving him one small love bite on his shoulder, she relented for now.

"No biting!" He admonished.

She play growled and pulled his forearm into her teeth.

"Drop it!"

She kicked her feet at him, laughing loudly as he tried to pinch at her sides.

The fight went to the floor, her gasping out a shrieking laugh as he caught her ribs in a tickle.

Locking her legs around his, she drug her tongue up his forearm obscenely.

"Okay, that's it!" He dove into the side of her neck, rubbing his beard into her.

"No!" She shrieked, trying to twist away.

Quiet laughter shook his chest. Both of them relaxing into a tangle on the cool tile.

He held the back of her head, kissing her deeply.

"I adore you and would love to kiss you on a dirty floor for much longer. But breakfast is burning."

"Breakfast is stupid."

"An absurd and frankly, hurtful statement."

He gave her one small kiss on the forehead, pulling her up with him.

Hopping up on the counter, she leaned back into the cabinets. Picking up a peeled potato and turning it in her hands.

What do you need to tell me, Tav?

She sighed.

Was it that obvious?

Well, groping is usually followed by heavy subjects.

She shot him a smile, which he returned. Flipping the contents of the skillet.

You're going to try to talk me out of it.

Oh, most definitely. Show me anyway.

She bit her lip, then turned towards him. Closing her eyes and opening her mind.

She showed him everything. The deal she had made, the plan already fully formed. The supplies. The steps. The price.

His hands came to lean on the sides of the stove, shoulders hunched over. Head down.

It was quiet besides the sizzling of food.

For once, he closed his mind off to hers, and that made her more scared than she had been in a long time.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he took a deep breath.

"Okay."

She looked up at him in shock.

"What?"

"I'm not fool enough to think I can stop you, and I'd rather be there than not. If you're going to do this, you're going to need help. Especially with the first part."

She brought his hand to her mouth, kissing his knuckles softly.

Thank you.

After breakfast, she led him wordlessly upstairs. They both understood the weight. That this was the last time as they both were. If things went wrong; ever.

An endless spinning blue light surrounded her, lifting her hair like water.

He kissed her with the deepest passion she had ever felt, pouring over her body in molten waves.

His magic started lifting her off of her feet, bone deep pulling pleasure. Her head fell back and he lifted higher, fingers arcing up.

She fell back suspended in air, moaning and arching.

What little clothes she wore were pulled away by mage hands. One clawed hand running nails down her thigh.

Then he was everywhere, between her legs, against both of her breasts, against her asshole. Wet. Lapping. Suckling.

It was so much. The discipline of his mouth in quadruple. Pulsing both of her peaks, sucking undulating waves into her clit, tight circles against her hole. Slick already pooling down her backside.

She writhed as he circled her, hands conducting. Burning fingertips sweeping and arching. Pushing and pulling. Beckoning and forbidding.

Fully at his mercy she reached out for something, anything, to ground her.

"Please, ugh!-" A hard swirl against her asshole. "Gale!"

Her pleas were not answered. His phantom mouths only working faster.

Mage hands forced her legs open, two holding her arms down.

Only able to arch and twist fruitlessly, her eyes rolled back. Panting and drooling. Completely lost.

His solid hands found her thighs between his mage ones. Lifting her up to his mouth.

His corporeal mouth finally met her, pushing his tongue inside her cunt.

"Fuck!" She tried to reach for his hair but the mage hands held her in place.

Five mouths assaulting her now, she pleaded out nonsense words. Tears streaming down the side of her face. A near unbearable orgasm about to hit.

"I can't take it! Oh Gods!"

You can.

A fifth mage hand gripped into her hair, pulling her head back taut.

And you will.

Her body twisted, a full body orgasm ripping her apart. Vision going blurry. Mouth falling open into a silent scream, then a shriek pulled deep from her core. Hips bucking. Straining against his many holds. A wave of fluid striking his jaw. Every part of her tremoring, her own private earthquake.

He held his palm out flat and directed her limp body to their bed.

Her head lolled, watching him climb down to her. Kissing gently against her face, her fingers, the tips of her ears.

Words completely lost she just smiled lovesick at him.

Mustering the last of the useless puddle of her mind she formed the only thought she could for him.

I love you. I love you. I love you, Gale.

He buried his face into her shoulder, settling between her legs. Holding her lifeline into him.

Please. Please say it again.

She chanted it to him, a hymn that formed into a wave of feeling she washed over him.

He trembled against her, overcome.

Standing outside of the castle, she stared up at that distant window. The same that she had watched light in crashing pursuit, anger flared and spitting. The same that she had held his weeping curled body.

It had always been here, there was nowhere else to end this.

Gale's hand held steady to her lower back.

She smiled. That was the greatest difference.

She wasn't alone.

The witching hour was upon them, and she had to take the steps.

Working backwards she went from balcony, to ballroom, to hidden hallway.

Slow. Deliberate.

Meeting no resistance she knew he was waiting. In the dust laden grave of their love.

Pushing inside, she closed the door softly behind her.

His body was silhouetted in the moonlit window. Standing expectantly, hands leaning back on the vanity.

"So you're darkening my doorway again, are you pet?"

"Are you disappointed?"

"Oh, to the contrary." He stepped closer, a viper moving through grass.

"I have been absolutely salivating thinking of you submitting yourself to me. Finally where you belong."

"Funny, I think the reason why you want me is because I defy you. But you will never admit that to yourself."

As intended, he moved closer. Anger bristling along his back.

"Your insolence has been the bane of my reign."

Crimson eyes pouring rage.

"You. Are. Mine." He hissed, eyes starting to burn out red. "Understood?"

"Oh, absolutely." She smiled, back foot sliding out slowly.

"Just one thing, Lord Ancunin."

Her thumb and middle finger started to push onto each other.

"Go fuck yourself."

As he lunged for her she snapped her fingers and her love uncloaked behind her, his invisibility falling away.

With all the rage of a tornado he stepped forward, casting spell after spell.

The barrage sending Astarion onto his back foot, dodging but Gale's fury struck him down.

As soon as a knee met the floor Tav pushed to him.

Now, Gale!

He raised arms and shouted.

"Ad Lapide!"

The spinning square of light held him down. Already vibrating as the hold tempted to shatter.

She fell to knees. Whipping out the roll of fabric previously tied to her back. Everything she needed was here. She just had to have the will to use it.

Snatching the pot of her blood she dove under his feet, smearing the binding circle. Concentrating as much as she could on the sigils and sweeping lines as he vibrated with fury, fighting against the holding like a caged animal.

Flying to feet, the pot empty, she took the dagger held in her teeth and cut into his outstretched frozen palm.

His eyes burned into hers with shaking hate, his blood pouring into the pot.

She dove away as the hold was starting to stutter. Crouching down in a circle, drawing one line of his blood around her.

Just as the hold shattered, her smeared fingers met the beginning of her line.

The purple light spinning through the room shifted to a molten red.

Burning lines pulled from him, holding his wrists down to the floor. Already straining and screaming feral at her. Lunging with teeth.

"What have you done?!"

Black flame encircled her. She cried out as a terrible biting pain began.

"Arm! Left!" She shrieked, holding it up.

Gale snatched the tourniquet, whipping it around her bicep.

"Pull hard!" She shouted, though he already knew.

He leaned in and gave her one desperate kiss, then wrenched with all his might.

Nearly blacking out, she fell forward. Dry heaving on the floor. Her arm already felt like it was severed, her nerves screaming out in tingling anguish.

But she wasn't done yet.

Rising shaky to feet she began singing the incantation.

"O magna diaboli dimittis amica mea!"

Smeared lines of him pulled to the floor, the shifting circles opening to a wavering portal of molten light beneath the both of them.

"Sume membrum meum, carpe sanguinem meum!"

The wire around her bicep began closing, wrenching her back down to knees. Crying out, her song becoming a scream.

"Mundus meus est, redde illum ad me!"

His screams melded with hers, fighting on all fours. Spitting and straining. Smeared images of him pulling down then wavering out.

Nearly at the edge, black circles threatening her vision, she looked at him one last time. Gripping the tourniquet as her flesh sawed away beneath it.

Between screams of fury, endless curses and hateful promises, there was a flash of desperate hope in his eyes.

"Do it!" He bellowed.

"Dolor sit satis! Eum dimittere!"

As the last of his screaming mirrored form pulled down into Avernus, her flesh gave. Hungry hands pulling her limp arm down just the same.

Lines beneath them dissipating, she collapsed on the blood smeared floor. Gale rushed to her, hand lit in bright flame.

With one last tearful apology, he pressed his burning palm to the lost limb. Cauterizing it.

She could only twist, her body so imbued with pain the sensation was nearly incomprehensible.

When he released the tourniquet, she got some breath back. Adrenaline allowing her the smallest kindness.

Pushing on knees, she went to him.

He was crumpled, face down. Writhing weakly as she had been.

She almost didn't want him to look up. Terror of failure shaking her.

With her only hand, she cupped his face.

Bending up, his eyes met hers.

She smiled, hitching out a sob.

"Blue. They're blue, Starlight."

He wailed, arms gripping her to him.

They stayed like that, pouring grief into each other. Desperate pulls of limbs, shaking hopeful fingers. Parallel wailing mouths pressing into shoulders. Four tear blinded eyes. Two shattered hearts beating strong to each other.

The beginnings of insect song outside the open window a quiet hymn. Sun on its slow climb, drenching their alcove of despair with light.

Incomprehensibly, the morning had begun all the same.

-

-

-

Tav twisted the taloned fingers. Trying and failing to snap her thumb and middle finger.

Gale came up behind her, kissing her shoulder in a low hum.

"You'll get good at it soon, I promise."

"I know." She smiled, cupping his head with her remaining hand. Leaning into him with a sigh.

The blue light of her mage arm was distracting in her peripheral, but she knew she'd adjust. Fingers sliding gingerly along the bottom of the apparatus cupping her remaining bicep. Tied down securely over her shoulder.

"Kind of Elminster to lend the magic for this." She remarked.

"Oh I think he owed me, after telling me to level a small city."

Tav smiled, turning to him.

Concentrating, she brought her glowing blue palm to his chest.

He smiled proudly, tears spiking the corner of his eyes.

"See? You're a natural."

She pulled with her solid hand, bringing his lips to hers.

I love you so much, you silly wizard.

He laughed against her mouth, melding into her.

He's in the garden, if you want to see him.

Tav nodded, releasing him with two small kisses for good luck.

"You haven't even complimented my dress!" She mock huffed. The one he had picked out for her what felt like months ago hanging from her frame.

"Well let's see it then." He laughed.

She gave him a little twirl. The deep blue fabric swirling around her. The cape sweeping along the floor.

"Heavenly." He sighed, eyes sparkling. "Other goddesses are crying out in shame."

"You are so full of it." She laughed, pinching his side.

"A strike against my very soul. How am I supposed to weather my day with such hurtful words in my heart?" He continued, smiling wide.

"I think you'll live. But I'd love to see the mournful poetry you've written later tonight." She nuzzled into his neck.

He took a deep breath of her, then released. Hand trailing along hers as she stepped downstairs.

Drenched in the fragrant garden, she saw his shock of silver hair on a bench.

Smiling, she came up behind him, hand gently trailing along the flowers at her hip.

Tara was sitting next to him, pressing determined head bonks against his hip.

"Oh dear, it seems she likes you." Tav laughed.

He reached out for her wordlessly, and she met his fingers. Coming to sit on his free side. Resting her head into his shoulder.

"How do you feel?" She hushed, his fingers threading into hers.

"Alive." He whispered, voice wavering.

"Well, that's what I was going for, so..."

He laughed wetly. Leaning into her.

"I'm sorry." He murmured.

"I know." She hummed.

She kicked her legs out, settling into his shoulder.

His eyes caught a gleam, and as soon as he saw the gold vines twisting around her ankle, he crumpled.

She held him as big heaving sobs wracked through. Tara twirling around them, pushing her little head into him.

When he pulled back she kissed his tears away. Pressing her forehead to his.

"I missed you so much, Starlight."

He nodded, face still strained.

"I'm so glad to give you a second chance. No one deserves it more than you."

He shook his head then, and she cupped his face. Bringing her mage hand up to the other side.

"Yes. Yes, you do. And I'm not taking feedback at this time."

He hiccuped a laugh, holding her shoulders.

"Now come inside. There's breakfast and conversation, everything you could ever need. I love you and I'm so glad to see you again. Come eat."

~

~

~

[kayann9]

The Darkest Night

Thank you again to everyone :) This is pure fluff. I always believed that Gale and Tav definitely know they have some feelings for each other before the 'Big Confession' and this is one of those moments. I have a sort of second part to this too.

Set just before Shadow Curse Lands.

Pairing: Gale X F! Tav (Serena)

Words: 1047

Rating: T (a lot of fluff)

The shadows around them seemed to grow heavier than anyone would have thought possible and they hadn’t even arrived there yet. Serena hated the dark. She’d never told anyone that. Her tent was always adorned with a flickering light, just enough to offer her some warmth against the unforgiving gloom. She had long since accepted that darkness was part of her life, part of what she needed, but each time the sun set and the midnight darkness shrouded her like the embrace of Shar, she could not help but feel lost and afraid.

She hid it well.

Always walking straight; always talking; always stepping ahead of the others, but each time a wayward patch of night caught her eye, a shiver erupted up her spine and the helplessness she’d known as a youngster flooded back into thoughts.

The Shadowcursed Lands loomed ahead, and this pervasive sense of dread loomed right along with it.

When they set up camp, it took all of her effort not to listen to her limbs urging her back up towards the Mountain Pass and the glowing vista they were leaving behind. No more lush greenery and bright flowers; no more sunsets and sunrises with the multi-faceted colours of a glowing sky. Serena had never wanted to go to a place less than the next step of their journey.

She rubbed her hands over her face before wandering over to her favourite companion’s tent hoping for some kind of distraction from her impending worry.

“What’re you doing?”

Gale smiled at her. He knew that tone well. The same tone she’d used before they’d traversed the Underdark. Her sing-song curiosity of the things he did made his soul smile.

“Perhaps you should come and find out.” He laughed and made room for her on his bedroll. She’d been in here a few times; enough times for him to make sure it was always kept orderly just in case she visited. Over the last couple of months, he’d tried convincing himself that he was making a fool of himself, but now he was facing down eternity, he could not bring himself to care as much. Instead, he soaked up her attention like the roots of a starving flower desperate to soak up moisture from the rain. 

One evening, not long after the fated visit from Elminster, she’d fallen asleep in there as they’d sat and read together. Ever since, he’d spent nights hoping it would happen again.

As she seemingly liked doing, she perched next to him, her chin resting on his shoulder and her eyes looking at the book he held. The kind of physical touch that was typical of lovers. The kind he’d not had in so long. It was difficult not to indulge in and now that he’d made peace with his destructive condition, it seemed silly not to indulge in it for who knew how long he would have left to enjoy it.

Selfish, maybe? Needed, certainly.

Gale had long since concluded that whatever her story was, she needed it as much as he did.

“This is like another language.” He could hear the squint on her face.

“Because it is another language. I found it in the temple. It is Githyanki. I think I have worked out a few of the key terms such as Queen but I am still trying to work out the narrative.”

“Why not just ask Lae’zel?”

Gale turned, his face only an inch from hers as she looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Well, if I were to simply ask Lae’zel, then she would be able to translate this simple passage for me, but I would not have learnt how to translate the myriads of passages encapsulated in those crypts. Imagine the knowledge trapped in these texts. If I can work out the terminology in this one, then I can do it for the others. Of course, the plan is Lae’zel can check that I am correct while we have her here.”

Serena scrunched up her nose and chuckled. “I like watching you learn. Can I stay whilst you uncover the great mysteries of the Githyanki?”

“Of course, you can. You needn’t ever ask permission sit with me.”

Serena did not need a second invitation, especially with the gravity of what hid on the horizon for them. Instead, made herself comfortable leaning against him taking in his warmth like he was the sunshine she was leaving behind.

How she loved watching him as he read and studied; he was so far removed from the people she usually encountered that she had been almost captivated with him from their first meeting. His stories and how he told them with his whole body, his graceful manners misaligned with occasional clumsiness, his over-confidence and uncertainty co-existing oddly together; all of it made her feel lighter. Dare she say, happy? He was her own little slice of daylight amongst an oncoming storm.

“Thunder or perhaps clouds?” The low hum of his voice broke through her daydream.

His brow creased as he grabbed the quill and scribbled on a stray piece of parchment.

She closed her eyes at the scratching on the paper and curled up next to him, tucking her feet underneath her. She stifled a yawn as she leaned into the softness of his side, breathing in the scent of the autumncrocus he’d spent the day collecting. His shirt was soft and without a second thought, she wrapped an arm around his middle before letting her drowsiness claim her.

Gale stilled at the movement but after one look at her peaceful face, the face he’d decided he definitely loved, he relaxed and let his arm drape around her in the same way, his fingers stroking her hair.

“You are more captivating than any language that could ever be spoken.” He whispered into the air, part of him hoping she was asleep but an ever-growing part of him wishing she had heard. “Whatever is causing you the worry you feel, I will make sure I do my best to shield you from it.” He pressed his lips gently to the top of her head.

Carefully, he put the text down, trying his best not to wake her and instead decided to study the subject he was most fascinated by: Serena Tavarnos.

[kalmiaphlox]

Practice Makes Perfect

AO3 Link / Masterlist

Astarion can appreciate that his sweet, little daughter just wishes to help out and bond with a certain lady-lizard in the house.

But dear gods, all Izzy does is tangle Kalmia's hair into a nest. Maybe it's time for a lesson.

Main Tags: Domestic Fluff, Dadstarion, Established Relationship, Hair Braiding, Minor Tantrum, Apologies

His eyes blink open, inhaling sharply as he takes in his surroundings.

Alone.

He’s alone in bed. How? When he fell asleep, he had been sandwiched between Kalmia and Izmezine, how could they both move without waking him?

The room is perfectly dark, but the clock reads just past five - in the morning if he has to guess. Light peeking out from the bathroom door catches his eye and quiet voices drift Astarion's way. Ah, there they are.

Sneaking over to the door, he peers inside, listening in on their private conversation.

Kalmia is sitting on the ground in front of Izmezine criss-cross on a chair, his little girl is working very carefully to entangle the dragon's hair in a poor excuse for a braid. He really needs to teach Izzy how to do it right, Kalmia's hair doesn't deserve such atrocities. 

“Kalli, when I g-get big, I be a d-dr-dragon?” The dhampir is tying strands of her hair together and then just spinning it all around her hand. Astarion's fingers ache to fix it but he isn't going to interrupt their conversation.

“Oh, I don't think you can turn into one on your own, but I bet we can ask nafldask. She can probably change you into a baby dragon for a little bit.” 

Izzy grins in excitement. “And- And I f-fly?”

“I don't see why not. Nafldask will show you what to do.” Kalmia pulls her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them. 

“You fly w-with me too, Kalli?” 

“No, I'm sorry, sweetie. I can't fly.”

“Why?”

He knows it's only natural for Izmezine to be curious but he cringes at her bluntness.

Kalmia doesn’t sigh or sound particularly sad, though he imagines that this hurts to talk about. “I don't have wings, but I am a very good swimmer as a dragon, so you can swim with me instead, ok?”

And she's talented at deflecting.

“Can Papa swim too?”

“Hmm, I don't know. We can ask him when he wakes up.” She says with a contented smile.

Izmezine has finished her destruction of Kalmia's hair, patting the dragon on the shoulder with a confident smile. Kalmia steps before the mirror, admiring Izzy's… handiwork. Of course, the wizened lizard is ever gracious. “Wow! Maybe I should start paying you for such fine work!” 

Kalmia takes the girl in her arms, giving her a big squeeze which she starts squeaking at. “Shh, shh, shh! Your father's still asleep, we don't want to wake him up! He might eat us!”

They giggle together quietly and he rolls his eyes, returning to the bed.

It's just the three of them today with Gale and Shadowheart out on vacation.

Izmezine needs that lesson. “Little love, can you come sit with me? I want to show you something.” Astarion holds an arm out, beckoning to his daughter. When she throws her pencils down and runs to him, he turns his attention to the old lizard. “Will you sit here in front of us? I think it's time for a lesson on hair braiding.”

Kalmia pauses in her sorting of her hoard, having been searching for topazes at his request. “Well, how could I say no to that?” and she settles on the floor in front of them, continuing her task. 

“Alright, Izmezine, my sweetest little darling,” he pulls a comb out from beside his chair, handing it to Izzy. “Let's brush Kalmia's hair, gently. Her skull is very brittle from how old she is, so we must treat her with care.” Kalmia offers no response to his slight, but he anticipates a punishment later.

Izzy takes the brush in both hands and with Astarions help, they smooth out Kalmia's brown locks. So much hair makes it easier for him to braid, but Izzy's little hands can only hold so much, maybe they can give Kalmia dual braids.

He's getting ahead of himself, Izzy is going to struggle even with a small one.

Once the dragon's hair is brushed to perfection, Astarion pushes most of it over one of her shoulders, leaving a small handful for him and Izzy to practice with. “Dearest, are you ready?” She nods silently. “Alright,” He grasps the strands,  laying them out on his palm, “We need to separate these into three equal pieces. Can you do that for me? You can leave one piece here,” pointing to Kalmia's back, “And the other here.” Pointing to his wrist.

It's hesitant, but Izzy very carefully does as she's told, splitting the hair up into three almost equal pieces. Her golden eyes glance up at him, swimming with uncertainty, and he gives a soft smile in response, kissing her forehead. “Good job. Hold the middle piece in your left hand and the right one in your right hand.” 

There's a long pause as Izzy looks between her hands, remembering which one is left or right, she'll ask for his help when she needs it, so Astarion refrains from rushing her. Eventually, she makes the right choices, picking up all the hair she should, awaiting further instruction with a determined set to her brow. 

“This is the hard part now, kitten, so take it slow. Cross your right hand over your left one,” he waits as she does so, “And now move your left hand to put that hair on my wrist. You can let both of them go.” Izzy does, and with that, they have successfully completed one motion. “So we need to repeat that move again but on the opposite side. Left hand holding that one and right hand, middle one.” 

Her confidence has soared as Astarion instructs her on twisting Kalmia’s hair back and forth, eventually ending with a very loose and tangled braid once finished, but a braid nonetheless.

“Well, look at that! You did it!” He hugs Izmezine close before finding a small elastic to tie up the ends of Kalmia's hair. He throws the strands forward, “Take a gander, little wyrm, this anon is quite skilled.”

Kalmia inspects the braid with a keen eye, a bright smile breaks across her face when she turns around, pulling the dhampir close into a hug and smothering her in kisses as Izzy shrieks like a banshee. “Wow, it's beautiful! You can replace your father as my hair stylist!”

His glare could cut glass, but Kalmia is unfazed by such things, being a dragon and all, while she continues to snuggle against Izzy. 

“Enough of that. Would you like to try again, kitten?” He separates them so Kalmia can go back to her job and Izzy is up to the task of another try. 

Ever the independent one, she wants to do this braid on her own, with minimal help. There's quite a bit of frustration building as the twisting of strands together isn't going as well as she wants, which is fine, but she refuses all of Astarion's attempts for help. 

He has no idea where her stubbornness comes from.

Izmezine reaches a breaking point though, the braiding isn't going as smoothly as she would like, and she… yanks roughly on the ends of Kalmia's hair. 

Astarion is horrified that she would react like that, and Kalmia offers no response, not even a surprised grunt at having her hair almost ripped out. Grabbing Izzy's hand, he puts on a firm tone, “No! You can't do that. Apologize to Kalmia, now.”  

Izzy's lip trembles and he sees the tears are ready to start, but she closes her mouth with a scowl, before sprinting downstairs with a cry. Gods, what a dramatic exit. “I'm sorry, are you alright?” He rests a hand on Kalmia's shoulder.

The door to Izzy's room slams shut. Ugh.

Turning to face him, Kalmia smiles pleasantly, “Nothing to worry about,” and then her smile turns evil, “She throws fits just the way you do.”

“Fits?! What are you talking about? I am perfectly level-headed, at all times!” His indignation flares up and that just makes Kalmia laugh. 

“Awe, irthiski, it's ok if you can't control your emotions. You'll learn one day.”

“Ancient fiend! I've had enough of you.” Astarion abandons the wretch to check on Izzy. He's not ready to face her wailing, and as he knocks on her door, he can hear the quiet whimpers as she cries on her bed. “Izmezine, can daddy come in?”

The muffled response he gets back is unintelligible, but he'll take it as a yes as he creaks open the door, finding Izzy curled up on the head of the bed, hiding herself between pillows and stuffed animals. Her little cheeks are blotchy and stained with tears, eyes bloodshot and lip continuing to tremble as she stares up at him behind her kitty toy, most likely afraid of whatever reprimand is to come.

Perching himself at the edge of her bed, he sits cross-legged and straight-backed, gods, Astarion hates having to be stern with her, especially when he's so weak to her tears, “I'm very disappointed by how you acted upstairs. Do you know why?”

A high keening is building up from within her as Izzy sinks further into her protective shell of pillows, whipping her head to the side in defiance, “N-No!”

It takes all of his power to not raise an eyebrow and scoff, he instead opts for a shallow sigh, “You pulled on Kalmia's hair. That hurt her.” It didn't, but this is a lesson to be learned. Semantics aren't necessary. “I understand you were frustrated, but if you get upset, you should use your words. I need you to tell me what's bothering you and then we can work on it together. Can we do that next time?” 

The vampire who kills people on the weekly is really sitting here lecturing his daughter on how to be nice. What in the hells has happened to his life?

Izzy is still partially buried in her pillows and toys, peeking a teary golden eye out at him as he speaks, and finally she chooses to sit up, “I-I h-hu-hurted Kalli?”

“Yes, you need to apologize to her.”

“Ok.” She crawls into his lap, sniffling against his chest, and Astarion holds her close before placing a kiss atop her white curls.

++++

Later that night, Astarion and Kalmia are sitting at the bathroom vanity while he combs through her hair. It's a nightly ritual that they have taken up, he loves to lavish her with care and she loves to receive it.

“How did it go, little wyrm?”

She snorts, “I know you were listening.”

He rolls his eyes, thankful Kalmia can't see him from this angle. “Obviously, but I want to know how you feel about it.”

“Izmezine apologized nicely, and I know she meant it. She's a little being with big emotions, no harm done.”

“Magnanimous as usual, my love. Where would I be without your generosity?” Nibbling at one of her ears, Astarion ends the care routine with a smack to her thigh.

“Very cold and thousands of gems poorer.” She remarks as she glides into their bedroom.

With a mocking shake of his head, he follows Kalmia's lead, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist, keen to never let go. “Might I love you tonight, my darling?”

“I hope you do for the rest of our days, irthiski.” She lays a fervent kiss upon him.

No one loves him like she does.

Some end notes: -anon = flower in draconic -nafldask = grandmother

[vagabondfandoms]

Falls on Me

Day Two: Afternoon

Rating: Teen (For this Chapter)

Previous Chapters:

Day One: Night 2. Day Two: Morning

Characters: Gale Dekarios, F!Tav: Copper, Karlach and Astarion appear at the end, and Lae'zel, Wyll Ravengard, and Shadowheart are mentioned.

Warnings: N/A, Gale POV, Mentions of chronic pain

Gale asks for the Sword of Justice and ends up with a debate.

---

The pings of pain that usually exist in his body at all times since he got cursed with the orb were increasing in intensity. 

“Soon.” Gale thinks, “He’ll need to absorb a magical item soon.”

At first, Gale was apprehensive about acquiring magical items for his condition. He couldn't predict what kind of people he was traveling with. Were they kind souls who would give up a rare magical item for an ailing wizard? Or ones that hoard their treasures like dragons in a deserted dwarf stronghold on top of a lonely mountain?

In general people on the Material Plane are very… well, materialistic. Gale couldn't really blame them. This world is harsh and you have to have some sort of gumption to get anything in it. Or be lucky enough to be born with it. 

Gale considers himself one of the lucky ones. His father was a well-off shipping mogul in Waterdeep. While Gale was an illegitimate child, his father didn't balk at his duties to take care of his blood at least financially. 

And to be fair, his father could have adored his youngest son but Gale just can't remember. His dad died when he was 10 years old and Gale only has hazy recollections of the man. Most of those memories involved his dad stopping over at his mother's house bearing gifts. Being a little kid he can only remember the joy of receiving the gift and not the reaction from the giver. 

Gale was hoping somebody in his new party was a giver and after spending a day with his new “friends” he had a pretty good guess on who. 

Copper, the Ilmateri monk was both physically strong and tactically minded but also a firm devotee to her god’s tenets of compassion, respect, and willingness to go without. 

While all of Gale's other companions (including himself) picked over the camping supplies to make their personal tents as cozy as possible. The monk just threw together a makeshift tarp held up with sticks and called it good.

Gale was 90% sure that Copper would be willing to go without a magical item in her sack if he asked. He just needs to find the right time between battling goblins, spiders, and people posing as Paladins of Tyr. 

---

They just finished dispatching a small band of goblins dragging a terrified owlbear cub to their outpost in an old temple of Selûne when Gale saw his chance to ask Copper for a magical item.

Everybody else was either busy examining the owlbear cub they just saved or looting the corpses for items when Gale casually made his way over to Copper who was rummaging through her pack.

“Tiring business, isn’t it?” Gale starts. “All this traveling and adventuring.”

Copper looks up at him in surprise, apparently not expecting anybody to talk to her. “Are you tired already?” She stands up, guzzling some water, looking over at him from around the bottle.

“Well, maybe a little,” Gale says half truthfully. “But I was hoping for the chance to talk to you about something, well, rather important.”

Copper’s eyes narrow by a fraction and if Gale wasn’t so invested in starting this conversation he might have missed it. His nerves start to flutter in his stomach. “What if she says no?”

“Consider this a break.” Copper shrugs and tosses Gale her water bottle. “Drink some water, it’s hot out here, and tell me what’s ailing you.”

“Ailing me, ha. If she only knew.” Gale thinks as he unexpectedly catches the glass container coming towards his chest. It was aimed in a way that it would be impossible to drop unless you didn’t even attempt to catch it. Gale muscles the cork out and takes a swig of the cool water. 

“She must have filled it at the stream earlier today.” He considers, the cold water feeling good in his parched throat.

Copper sits down on a fallen log, waiting for Gale to finish. He takes one last gulp, downing the rest of the liquid before tossing the empty bottle back to its owner.

“Soooo, we’ve been on the road together for a while now, haven’t we?” Gale says, trying to make his words sound cheerful. Not desperate or needy. “Survived some perils, overcame some obstacles.”

The monk just raises an eyebrow at him but stays quiet allowing him to speak.

“Anyway, ever since you were kind enough to pull me from that stone, I’ve seen you demonstrate remarkable guile and courage.” Gale continues, half speaking the truth and half buttering the woman up so he could get the magic item in her bag. 

“The way you diffused the tension between Zevlor and Aradin. The way you prevented not one but two murders in the Druid’s Grove…”

“Gale.” Copper cuts in. “Those are things any Ilmateri monk would do for others. I did nothing special.”

“Wellll, I don’t know about that.” Gale playfully argues. “Most of the Ilmateri I’ve met are, well, weepy.”

Copper gives him a chuckle and bows her head, conceding to his point. Even though she follows the Crying God, most of his followers take that epithet too seriously. 

“Back to my point, I’ve grown to trust you enough to tell you something I’ve yet to tell another living soul, except for my cat,” Gale says seriously. “I need your help.  I have this…condition that requires me to consume powerful magical items.” 

To Copper’s credit, she doesn’t even look surprised when Gale tells her this. She just calmly assesses the man. Looking him over for any injuries. “You hide it well.” Copper finally says. “It must be serious if you have to consume powerful artifacts.”

“Yes, it can be deadly serious if I don't acquire the items I need,” Gale says gravely. “That is why I am turning to you. I need your help to find magical items to consume. It is vital. Dare I say it, critical.”

“Where do we find these items?” Copper asks calmly.

“We’ve already done the finding. In fact, you have one in your possession already.” The man says lightheartedly. Pleased this conversation wasn't being rejected outright.

“Soooo… you want me to give you the Sword of Justice?” Copper says, connecting the dots to what Gale wants quickly.  But a scowl appears as a new thought enters her mind. “Karlach doesn't want to use it right now but Lae’zel might.”

“Please, I know that sword was difficult to acquire but it's imperative that I absorb the Weave in that item!” Gale argues, his nerves jumping wildly in his stomach. “It will do far more good turning into a rusted piece of metal after I am done with it than waiting in your pack for somebody to decide to use it.”

Copper looks conflicted. She must hear the desperation in Gale's voice. But to sacrifice such a powerful magical weapon for…what?

“This magical item isn't mine to give.” The monk shakes her head, a sad look on her face. “Can you tell me more about your condition? Maybe I can try and heal it instead of destroying the sword?” Copper tries to reason. 

There's hope in her eyes that she can fix the dilemma without disappointing anybody. But Gale feels disappointed all the same.

“This condition is not a kind to be healed by any old healing spell.” Gale chastises, annoyance and vulnerability mixing together. “Some of the greatest magical minds came together to find this treatment.”

“You mean you and your cat?” Copper deadpans.

“Well, mainly Tara.” Gale deflates, not wanting to go into detail about his year-long depressive state after Mystra’s rejection.

“You mentioned healing spells won't work. Have you thought of Ki restoration?” Copper supplies helpfully.

“What! Try some quack Eastern Medicine?” Gale laughs, shaking his head. “No, what I need is the Weave.”

Copper huffs, clearly annoyed. “Ki restoration has been around for thousands of years! Instead of using outside magic to heal an injury. Ki restoration uses life force, either your own or another’s, to help strengthen the body from within so it can restore itself to a healthier state.” 

The monk crosses her arms and looks directly at Gale. Almost challenging the man to refute her. “Ki is a highly regarded field of learning just like the Arcane Arts of the Weave.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t called it a quack medicine.” Gale quickly corrects himself seeing he got his companion worked up with his quick choice of words. “Waterdeep has one of the largest collections of knowledge in the Realms and the libraries do have a small section about Ki. So I have read up on this… energy before. It seems like an adequate way to trick oneself to relax or slightly enhance one’s abilities. But it’s still a lowly form of magic not even regulated by Mystra.”

“Ki is not the Weave. It doesn’t have to be governed by a god since it is an uncontrollable life energy that we can only harness a small fraction of.” Copper counters.

“Mystra...the Weave is everything. They make up ALL creation….”

“Ki is everything too!” Copper blurts out, uncustomed to sharing her thoughts with another person. “It's the life force in ALL living things.”

“Ki is regulated to the body,” Gale says calmly, overlooking the lack of decorum the monk is following for this discussion. Gale did throw out the first insult so he’ll let a little impatience slide. “Like I said, the Weave makes up everything. It’s the air we breathe, the ground we lay our feet on, the sun and stars. The fabric that makes up the entire universe!”

“Untrue.” Copper argues. “The Weave is one part of a whole that makes up the Universe. It's not everything. When the Weave was gone during the Spellplague, life was still created. People and animals were still born! Ki, the life force was still there. We didn’t just keel over and die without the Weave’s presence. How else do humans live when anti-magic fields are up?”

Gale feels tension forming in his jaw but it wasn’t from annoyance. He was getting excited even energized by this argument. He hasn’t had a good debate since he subbed at Black Staff Academy and had to argue with a teacher that they were teaching their class on Illusionary magic wrong. 

Looking down at the young monk, Gale realizes he needs to get down on her level so they can properly debate this. He was just about to kneel down to say his rebuttal when a couple of the party members came over to check on the two humans.

“Copper!!! Come see this little guy we rescued!” Karlach rushes over, full of excitement over the owlbear cub. Then she stops in her tracks, sensing the tension in the air. “Whatcha guys doing?”

“Urgh, they were just discussing something in-tel-lec-tual.” Astarion drags out the syllables in the last word like it is something rotten that needs to be thrown away. “So~ absolutely nothing exciting at all. Unlike this cool new dagger I found on that goblin corpse!!”

“Really, Astarion!” Gale says exasperated. “There’s nothing wrong about wanting to expand one’s mind beyond the material things of this world.”

The elf pops one hip to the side and examines his new treasure. “The only smarts I like are street smarts. At least they are useful to survival.”

“Come on now! I’ve seen you read in your tent at night.” Gale says, partially annoyed at Astarion's retort and partially because he couldn’t continue his conversation with Copper. He had so much he could say about the Weave and the Universe.

“Purely to pass away the hours of boredom,” Astarion says lazily, sliding his new dagger into his belt loop. 

Gale throws the elf a glare. He does not care for this blasé attitude Astarion always has around him.

“Well, I think break time is over.” Copper says as she gets up and brushes bark and moss off her butt. Karlach was already tugging at her sleeves, trying to lead the monk over to the owlbear cub, who was being watched over by Shadowheart, Wyll, and a reluctant Lae’zel.

Before she is fully swept off by the fiery tiefling, Copper catches Gale’s eye. “The sword is not solely mine to give. But don’t be afraid to ask the group if you really need it. They’re more willing to help than you think.”

Contemplating the monk's words, Gale watches his companions pack up their gear. They will be heading out soon to their new destination. Hopeful finding a way to cure the mind-flayer tadpoles in their heads. Gale can't help the small smile that forms on his lips as he watches the group happily give the scared owlbear cub food and affection. 

Maybe there are more givers in his group than he thought.

Author Note:

I like the fact in early access we had to give Gale a powerful magical item like the Sword of Justice for his condition. It gives his struggles more weight since the cost is so great. I'll try to sprinkle in more tidbits from early access as the story continues.