#my gale fluff

[petriquors]

POV: you wake up at your lover's side

a/n: set between acts 2 and 3; implied act 2 spoilers.

You wake up in a bed. It wouldn’t be abnormal, you think, apart from the fact that you’ve been camping on the road to Baldur’s Gate for days. You should be upon a bedroll with the stars overhead, not in a bedroom with the sound of a dying fire in one ear and the rhythm of ocean waves in the other.

It isn’t the sounds or sights that you recognize; it’s the feeling. A mystic warmth surrounds you; you’re subconsciously aware that everything you touch is an illusion, and the fact is ever-present in your slowly waking mind.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the caress of a shared daydream. It’s a vision that’s not your own, but you welcome it into your mind anyway. Besides, the hand that rubs your hip, the chest that presses against your back, and the breath on the crown of your head are all quite real.

“You needed this,” Gale murmurs in your ear. “After Ketheric—”

You smile to yourself, refraining from pointing out that Gale, who is blessedly still here, needed this, too. “And what is ‘this,’ exactly?”

He chuckles, and a rustling of sheets signals what’s about to come: Gale now moves like a man who knows he’s no longer on borrowed time. You’re entranced by the way one hand settles beside your head, while one knee swings over your hip. His center of gravity shifts, and he’s up above you, leaning down to lay his lips on your forehead.

“A good morning,” he says with a somber undertone, still used to the weight of his personal burdens. “A moment of quiet.”

Your smile grows. You reach up to cup his face with one hand, fingers grazing over stubble, while your other hand rests lightly on the back of his neck. “Quiet could be had at camp.”

A flash of mischief passes through his eyes, making him look younger and more full of life than you’ve ever seen him.

“Not,” he teases, leaning down again, but stopping before his smiling lips touch yours, “without prying eyes.”

Beautiful things come alive in your heart. Happiness. Anticipation. Romance. A sense of normalcy you haven’t felt since long before the tadpole. Who would have thought that a few grand illusions and several near-death experiences were all it would take to get you there? 

In bed, in the arms of a lover who touches your heart in ways no other ever has.

You lean upward, but you don’t need to move very far to reach him. With just a little tilt of your chin, your lips cover his in a kiss so sweet that your senses resonate like the most sublime of songs. You’re here, wherever here is, and so is he. Your hands touch his skin, and his touch yours. The little sigh he lets out reaches your ears, and you can taste him and all the life that’s reawakened in his soul.

When he pulls away, eyes full of a love that warms the very energy of the illusory room, you whisper, “Thank you.”

One side of his brow quirks up, but his smile hasn’t faded. “I’ll accept your thanks, but they’d be better if I knew what they were for.”

How could you ever answer that? There isn’t enough time to explain how grateful you are that he’s alive, here, with you. That he’s given himself the chance to chase what’s real instead of that which he cannot see.

So, you shake your head and reach to entwine your fingers with his. And then you settle upon thanking him for what he is: “Everything.”

[gale-dekarios]

so we know that gale's a night owl based on the epilogue dialogue of one of his endings, right? well for your health and mine, you absolutely should not, under no circumstances, imagine a groggy gale waking up in the mid-morning with his hair tumbling over his face, his eyes hazy and unfocused, and the deep, deep resonance of his morning voice rumbling next to you. dont imagine the look of utter hatred directed to the sun, and birds, and being awake, transform into a soft smile when he remembers that youre next to him. and certainly dont imagine his petulant protestations if you try to get out of bed before he's ready (he's never ready.) need to pee? tough. somewhere you've got to be? despite his lack of strength, he has a death grip on you. and when you tell him off for keeping you there, but you make no effort to move, you can feel his happy, sleepy smile where hes buried his face into your neck.

[vampiresfromxenon]

I Wanted To

Astarion x gn! Reader/Tav

Almost 3.5k words 

Tags: Fluff, kisses, cuddling, angst, biting mention, no use of y/n, words of affection (so much sappiness), soft! Astarion, they’re in love your honor!! 

CW: Slight mentions of SA and trauma (extremely minor, incredibly light piece)

Summary: You and Astarion decide to start your relationship over once you both confess your feelings. It's a mutual decision to take things extremely slow, celebrating little victories of intimacy here and there. Tonight, you can't hide your words of affection as he becomes more comfortable and vulnerable around you.

~

It’s been a few months traveling with this rowdy crew, and you can’t help but smile thinking about how much you love them all. Granted, they all piss you off on the daily, what from Shadowheart and Lae’zel attempting to kill each other, to Gale eating your favorite pair of enchanted gloves, but you can’t help yourself from smiling every time you think about how close you’ve all grown. One particular member in the party you have become very close with stands out a bit more than the rest, and thoughts about him are enough to make you unsettlingly giddy. 

For the longest time, you and the pale elf fought your feelings, too cold to warm up to each other. You both had a wicked past, something that tainted your current perceptions of love and romance. His may have been far more extreme than yours, but regardless of that fact, your feelings and emotions were still valid. For a short few weeks, you found yourselves being extra intimate, dismissing it all as stress relief and nothing more. Those little excursions were merely there as a form of self protection: He gained your trust and protection, and you felt less alone and vulnerable at night. Or, so you thought, until you noticed how distant he was, his eyes never meeting yours every time he sought to pleasure you. 

It wasn’t until recently that these barriers slowly began to be chipped away for the both of you, your infatuation not only becoming more real, but unfortunately, more terrifying. One night, you approached him, being brave and understanding if he had other thoughts about what you two could be. It was late, most of the camp either asleep or preparing for bed. You approached him, a soft hand on his shoulder, even though he was well aware you were there. What you were there for though, remained a mystery to him. He turned, smiling at you, taking your hand and kissing it affectionately. As your heart raced, you began a discussion with him, asking his thoughts and feelings about your ‘connection’ rather than just bombarding him with an overwhelming confession of love. 

He seemed stunned to say the least, unsure of what to say or how to feel. It was strange for him, his cold heart beating a little faster, feeling a little warmer at the sight of you in front of him, actually seeing him for him and not just another plaything. All these feelings were bubbling up inside him because, for the first time in a long time, someone not only asked him what he wanted in a romantic relationship, but they respected anything he said on that subject matter. In all his nervousness, he felt that he could be honest in his reciprocation to see how far you two could go, this time with real feelings. That was a few weeks ago, and all this time since has been magical. 

You haven’t intimately slept together since just before that night, instead establishing boundaries and focusing more on the non-sexual ways to be intimate, loving, and kind. He loves the way your hand brushes his, the way your fingers interlace with his as he moves in to hold your hand. You love the way his hand lands on your back, stretching to your hip to pull you closer to him, especially when meeting new people from town to town. While you still struggle with eye-contact in general, it feels easier around him, especially now since he has found himself to be more comfortable actually looking at you, taking in your appearance and being more present in your conversations. 

For many nights now, you’ve been cuddled up nicely in one or the other’s tent, fingers interlaced, hands gently wrapped around hips, legs occasionally intertwined. He still continues to feed on you, though he makes sure to gain your permission before bed each night. On the nights where you felt too tired, too drained mentally even, he would leave you be, hoping to keep you as comfortable as possible. Those nights were just as romantic, as you could feel his breath against your neck as he cuddles you tightly, his lips on your shoulder as he falls into the soft rhythm of sleep. 

Tonight didn’t start off any differently from any other night; you both gathered in his tent, doing your nightly routines as per usual (always before promptly passing out until the next morning hit you like a boulder). Most nights he would wear a nice, silky pajama set, one he purchased from an unreasonably expensive fashion designer in a small village. You didn’t have as luxurious of pajamas, but yours still covered most of your body, keeping you feeling safe and snuggled up each night.

Neither of you expected that this night would change everything.

He’s standing off to the side of your shared bedroll, changing into his pajamas while your back is turned to him, fiddling with the blanket you both share. You notice just how used this blanket is, and you realize that it might have been the only thing giving him comfort, the feeling of security over the past 200 or so years. Astarion was far from one to share, whether it was his feelings or his belongings, and it isn’t long before you have a second realization: you are possibly the only person to have ever slept with that blanket besides him. Your fingers gently roll the decaying fabric between your fingers, taking in all of his memories that have been exhausted on the threads. 

You hear him walking over and you drop your thoughts about the blanket, not wanting to pry into more of his distressing past. He kneels, picking up the blanket and sliding next to you, your bodies touching in an instant. Turning your attention away from the blanket, you look up to see your love is shirtless, moving around in the bedroll, trying to be more comfortable at your side. 

You know just how insecure he is about his scars from Cazador, that disgusting, vile, treacherous bitch, but it was so lovely to see him stepping out of his comfort zone. While you’re quick to notice this new change, he’s even quicker to notice your reaction. Diving back into his comfort charm, he smirks at you, loading a phrase to protect his vulnerable side.

“Like what you see, darling?” His eyes flutter to the side a bit, and you immediately notice his withdrawal from the conversation. With a calm and gentle hand, you caress his cheek, turning his attention back to you. 

“I always love what I see…” You smile, your eyes looking at him in such a way that your face beams with pride, though you try to find a balance between that and neutral so as to not overwhelm him. To see just how much he trusts you, is willing to open up to you and be vulnerable… Your heart can barely take it. In a quiet voice you’re sure to check in on him, wanting to make sure he feels secure in his choice. “Don’t feel you have to do this for me though, okay?” 

His hand reaches up to hold yours against his cold cheek, his stare suddenly becoming more present. “I wanted to.” His voice is low, his hand taking yours off his face as he leans in gently to kiss your palm. He kisses your forehead before moving to lie down, making himself comfortable in your small space. 

You sit there for a moment, considering your options. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable, but you want him to be aware that you feel the same sense of shared comfort. As he turns to the side, looking at a book he left on the ground earlier, you move to remove your shirt, tossing it off to the side. He moves the book away from you both so you don’t roll into it in the night. Turning back to face you, he pauses, taking in the sight of your bare chest. He looks up at you, tilting his head, nearly asking you the same question you just asked him.

Before he can say anything, you lean slightly closer to him, your voice a loud whisper. “I wanted to.” His eyes soften, and you can tell he’s flattered by this display of intimacy. You begin to crawl under the old blanket with him, and he pulls you close, his hand around your waist. The feel of his cold, soft skin against your bare back is enough to send shivers down your spine, and you realize that this must be so close to what heaven feels like. His free hand reaches up and caresses your jaw before tangling in your hair, gently playing with it as he knows it helps you fall asleep. 

Your hand rests on his bare chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat slowing down as he continues to relax in your care. You lie there for a while, trying to sleep, but something is keeping you awake. Perhaps it’s the looming threat that you could all die soon in brutally vicious ways, or the fact that you don’t want to waste a single second enjoying this time with your new lover. Suppose you’ll never truly know. 

Regardless of what is keeping you up on this night, you begin to feel a little restless, unable to lie there in that position for too much longer without your arms going numb. You sit up a little, leaning on the arm you’ve been lying on, trying to not wake your companion. However, his body shifts with you, and it appears that he is still just as awake as you are.

 “I didn't wake you, did I?” You whisper in a worried voice. 

“Not in the slightest, my dear. Unable to sleep tonight, as I am sure you understand.”

You sigh, still leaning over him slightly, his hand that was once on your waist now drawing circles on your shoulder blade, the hand in your hair now resting on your hip. You want to speak, but you find yourself getting lost in the way his face looks in the moonlight peeking through his tent flap. It frames his face so perfectly, almost as if this scene was sculpted by the Gods. He notices your sudden distance, and he is quick to check in on you. 

“Are you alright, love?” He asks, a tinge of concern in his voice, once again tilting his head like a confused puppy. 

“Sorry… Yes, yes. More than alright.” You reassure him, not breaking your focus. A beat; he attempts to determine what’s on your mind. Thinking he’s found it, he smirks. 

“Admiring how beautiful I am?”

“Yeah… Just looking at creases around your eyes…” You say in a loving tone, not even remotely aware of how backhanded the comment you just made sounds. 

He begins to shuffle, pushing you away, offended by your lack of sincerity. “Alright, there’s no need-” 

“No! Not like that.” You chuckle, snapping back into reality. You grab him, pulling him back to you, his head pressing back into the pillow below you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just-” You can’t stop yourself from laughing a little at the sight of your pouting partner underneath you. 

You notice just how unamused he is, and you abruptly stop laughing, clearing your throat and composing yourself in a more serious manner. Your hand reaches up and the pad of your thumb brushes against his crows feet, your mind falling back into your feelings of love and adoration for him. 

“The way your eyes crinkle when you laugh… The way your eyes sharpen when you’re glaring at me, like you are right now… The way they soften every time I walk in the room… I love those wrinkles, they’re such a beautiful part of you.” He relaxes again, taking in your words, though still unhappy at your mention of his wrinkles, making him feel old. Though, no matter how much he hates his aging characteristics being brought up, he will never turn away any form of flattery. 

“Well, augh. You really are sweet, aren’t you? But I’m sure you like more of me than just my dreaded wrinkles.” He was definitely fishing for compliments, that much was obvious, but he wasn’t aware of just how much you wanted to smother him in loving words. You lean forward and kiss his crows feet on both sides, surprising him. Smiling, your thumb traces over his eyebrows, taking in their shape and feel. 

“My eyebrows, really? Nothing else catching your eye?” He whines, his hands going back to resting on your shoulder blade and hip. He can feel your body shake as you laugh, your head falling forward towards his chest as you continue to giggle from his pouting. You bring your head back up, focusing on his face once more. 

“One thing at a time, dearest.” You pause, analyzing the shape of his eyebrows. Just how sharp they are, how often he uses them to his advantage when he is charming people. As you continue to gaze at them, he raises one of them, making your heart go crazy. 

“You’re so expressive. Your eyebrows are so perfectly shaped, the way you use them like a weapon… I know it’s silly, I know they’re just eyebrows, but they’re your eyebrows, and they mean so much to me.” You trail off, your face flushed with embarrassment as you realize just how overly sentimental your words are. He smiles at you, knowing just how hard you’re trying, and appreciating every second of it. You kiss his eyebrows before quickly moving on.

Your fingers trace along his face, noticing his mole. By now he’s exhausted, you’re three for three with things he’s sensitive about. “Darling, if this is your way of making me feel less upset about not being able to look in mirrors, I must say it’s starting to work.” His words deceive his face and body language, but you still try to abide by his wishes. 

Wanting to show your love, without spending too much time on it, you mention how much the mole under his eye suits him, how he would almost seem incomplete without a beauty spot. The usage of ‘beauty’ in ‘beauty spot’ convinced him to let it slide, but the ice you were dreamily skating on was wearing thin. Kissing his mole, you move on once again. 

The skin of his nose was soft as you trace the pad of your finger down the bridge of his nose. “Your nose… it’s so sharp. Don’t laugh, but one of my favorite feelings is when I wake up and your nose is either on my back or my neck. I can feel your breathing on my skin, your nose pressed against me while you sleep. It’s so calming, having any little part of you so close to me.” He looks at you a little confused, mostly due to the fact that you’re still here appreciating him. The things you’re saying, they’re so small and insignificant, yet you enunciate each word like it’s the most important thing you’ll ever say. Each word has a purpose, a meaning, and they fall out of your mouth effortlessly; something he still has yet to learn how to do. 

You kiss the tip of his nose, your fingers tracing down his face to his smile lines. Oh his smile lines. You just can’t help but adore his smile lines, no matter how much he absolutely hates them. He hates them because they age him, but you love them for all the same reason. To know he laughs, smiles, has any semblance of being happy is enough for you to be overjoyed at the sight of these lines that prove the existence that he has been able to enjoy life enough to have physical proof on his face.

“Don’t you dare.” He teases, though you wish he could bear with you for just a moment to explain your thoughts. Figuring you could do it another time, as tonight has already had enough excitement, you kiss his smile lines and spare him from your honeyed words. 

Last, but certainly not least: his lips. Your thumb traces over his lips which are closed together, gently pushing up just enough to where you wonder if he was trying to secretly kiss your thumb. As you continue to run your thumb over his lips, reminiscing on all the times your own experienced his, he takes you by surprise. 

Removing the hand from your hip, his thumb graces your lips, and you find yourself trying to inconspicuously kiss at it like he did to you just moments ago. You open your mouth to speak, but he uses his finger to silence you, gently shushing you. 

“My turn.” His voice is smooth and tender as his thumb continues to trace over your slightly parted lips. “Your lips… They have always been so soft and inviting.” He pauses, still staring at them.

“I must admit, I despised them at first.” A confused expression crosses your face just before he continues. “They would taunt me on a daily basis, the one thing I couldn’t have no matter how much charm I threw at you. When I was eventually graced with them, I loathed the way my name would be cried out from them, almost as if you were saying it like a prayer. It tore me apart, wanting something I wasn’t sure I actually wanted, or even felt like I deserved…” He trails off, though his gaze remains constant on you.

“How do they make you feel now?” You softly ask, just barely loud enough for even yourself to hear.

He thinks on this for a moment, searching for the proper word.

“Safe.” 

He leans up to you, cupping your cheek as he kisses you, the most delicate and loving kiss you two have ever shared. You both pull from the kiss, exercising restraint and respect for your pre-established boundaries. A hand resting on his chest, you encourage him to lie back on the pillow once more, which he does. You lean forward, kissing every part of his face that you mentioned, as well as a few spots just because you wanted to. Kissing his lips again, you pull apart just enough to whisper against his lips. 

“I admire everything about you. Every aspect of you is just so lovely… Thank you for being here, with me. I don’t ever want to leave your side.”

He smiles, his fangs poking out this time. His hand moves a strand of hair out of your face as he clears his throat. 

“And thank you for all the kisses.” He says, resuming his usual charm. You try to hide your slight disappointment, but you know he is trying his best and you can’t expect him to always meet you halfway, especially in this time of healing. 

“Always.” You whisper, lying down next to him as he wraps his arms around you, holding you closely. It’s late, and now that you have this feeling lifted off your chest, you find it easier to sleep. Your heart rate begins to slow, your breathing finding its usual pattern, your lover wrapped up tightly with you. 

When you’re on the edge of falling asleep, you feel his head tilting down towards yours, which is resting on his chest. His lips kiss the top of your head, his chin then resting on that same spot. A quiet voice breaks the air, unaware that it still has an audience.

“I love you.”

You freeze, unsure of whether or not you have actually fallen into a dream state, or if you just heard him correctly. In this state of grogginess, your body shifts as you attempt to determine the truth.

“Shit. Did you hear that?”

“Mhm.” You sleepily groan. He lets out a sigh of relief, thinking he’s talking to you in your sleep like he has before. Settling further into the bedroll, making himself more comfortable, he pulls you tighter, finally deciding to rest. 

“I love you too.” You break the silence, your voice more awake this time. His eyes flash open, his red irises laser focused on you. You can feel his heart pounding as you rest on his chest, and you lean over and kiss just above his heart.

“Safe.” Is all you can say before promptly passing out, your warm skin slowly heating up his own. He sits there for another moment, taking in the events of today. It was a lot, to say the least, but he felt comfortable and confident in his decisions, and that was almost truly a first for him. His hand finds its way back into your hair, stroking it as he begins to drift off to sleep, for the first time in a long time feeling comfortable, guarded, protected, safe. 

~

Author’s Note:

He’s extremely OOC, I’m 95% sure lmao but I love making characters total softies, even if we don’t see that side of them in the media they’re from. (I'm still in the very beginning of Act 2 so I'm learning a lot about him through this site too)

I’ve never experienced love, I’m also sure that’s obvious- I’ve always wanted to do something like this with someone though (look at their face and kiss all my favorite spots). While I was writing this, I felt so awkward writing such sappy dialogue, but I realized that moments like these aren’t smooth and rehearsed; feelings get mushy and oftentimes people say dumb and dorky things because they’re just so in love. I hope it gets translated that way at least hahaha

My Spotify is fucked because I listen to specific songs on repeat whenever I write. I have probably about 4-5 hours of “Blue Moon” by Billie Holiday logged on there now because of all the time planning, writing, and thinking about this fic- I got this song from Neil’s Astarion playlist, it’s so sweet and loving :) 

Edit: So many people are saying he’s actually pretty in character so thank you for the validation because I was nervous 😭

[hijackalx]

Headcanons for Gale, Astarion, and Gortash: What are nicknames/petnames you can see them giving their lover and what would their lover call them in return?

ASTARION

GIVING: omgggg this dude will call you every petname in existence. he loves the sweet ones because he thinks you’re so STINKIN CUTE !!!!!! 👹 (yes he gets cute aggression). i think his all time favorite is ‘darling’ obvs, but he likes to switch it up for sure. like i can see him calling you ‘pumpkin’ or ‘sweet thing’. shit just throw ‘pookie’ in there too LMFAOO. he also likes to put ‘my’ or ‘little’ in front of them. or both. absolutely coos over you

RECEIVING: unfortunately he would throw up in his mouth if you called him the sickly sweet petnames he calls you LMAO i honestly feel like he’s the type to cringe if he’s called ANY petname 😹😹😹 but i do think he tolerates stuff like ‘dear’ or ‘honey’. also shortening his name to ‘star’ occasionally is alright with him. regardless of what you call him he appreciates the thought and thinks it’s kinda sweet, even if it does make him gag 😹💗

GALE

GIVING: he’s a sucker for the classier, more dignified petnames (picture him looking at astarion in horror after he calls you some shit like ‘snookums’). he prefers stuff like ‘beautiful’/‘handsome’— ‘my love’ or ‘my muse’ are good ones too. he has you on such a high pedestal and thinks you only deserve the most tasteful petnames. i feel like he can get kind of corny with it too though 💀 just more poetically. if he’s feeling creative he’ll probably call you something like ‘my light in the darkest night’ HELPPP 😭😭 he’s so sweet though give him a break 😹😹😹

RECEIVING: ‘handsome’ hands down. i don’t know what it is but i just know this is his favorite. maybe it has something to do with you reassuring him of how handsome he is lol. it also flusters him a little bit when you say it, he gets all bashful and goes “oh, stop it” while trying to hide his smile 😹💗 i think he also likes ‘babe’ too, it’s cute and casual but not goofy

GORTASH

GIVING: i feel like his favorite time to use petnames for you is when you’re in public or around other people. like to him it’s almost a means of showing ownership LMAO. of course ‘dear’ is one he really likes generally. he also lovessss to use ‘little’ or ‘my’ in front of them as a display of possessiveness or power; ‘my little dove’, ‘my dear girl/boy/one’. i don’t really see him having a huge roster of petnames honestly? he’s more of a physical touch or gift giving kind of guy 😹😹

RECEIVING: daddy I’M KIDDINGGG (no i’m not. yes i am. no i’m not) i don’t know if he really cares what you call him. he’s pretty chill with any nickname or petname. he doesn’t take it too seriously or just considers it as you being silly. ALTHOUGH i think if you call him something often enough he’ll grow fond of it— i know a lot of people like to call him ‘gorty’ and i think he would grow to really love that honestly ? 😹😹💗 it becomes special to him because that’s what you call him, not really because of the petname/nickname itself

[blkgirl-writing]

Everything you written for Gale is so good 😭 I love your head cannon that he would be super needy and desperate for Tav. If requests are still open, I’d love to read about their first kiss. I’m sure there would be some major grinding involved too, considering he even does it in his sleep haha. I’m desperate to see how Gale manages to confess his romantic feelings to Tav with how nervous and cute he is.

First kisses- Gale x reader + Astarion x reader

This seemed just too perfect to not also do for Astarion, I hope you don't mind, anon!

Gale:

Gale had a bad habit of licking and biting his lips when he was nervous. Tara usually was there to swipe at him when he started, but she wasn't here to regulate him this time, instead, his lips started to peel, which only made him self-conscious. This never-ending loop is what made him want to put off anything more than longing glances, midnight cuddles by the fire as an excuse to keep warm, and occasionally connecting your pink fingers together as a reminder, that you're both alive.

But he really, really wanted to feel your lips on his, feel your soft touch on his jaw, cradle your waist. So that night by the fire, when all others were asleep, and it was just you and him staring up at the stars, he looked at you, with such brightness and care, you nearly melted away, but he held you together, with words of beauty coming from his lips. How wonderful you looked under the starlight, how he wished to suspend time so you could live in these peaceful, unharming moments forever. How he wished to kiss you.

A silence fell between you for a second, before you reached out and kissed his cheek, a small blush appearing on his face. It didn't take but a few seconds for him to lean in closer to you, only a small gap between your lips, waiting, for you to let him in fully.

Sparks flew when your lips touched, he swore it, every time he retold the tale of your first kiss. He said he knew in that moment you were his forever.

Astarion:

Looking back, the first kiss you shared wasn't when you first had sex, that was an exchange for safety, no, it was when he opened his heart to you, ready for judgment, but you had shown him love, instead. It was unfamiliar. Astarion was taken aback by your embrace, tight and long, and he realized he had never felt such kindness in this world, when he was alive or after he had died and been reborn, no one had shown him true acceptance, until right then.

His fingers played with your hair, his other hand at the very bottom of your back, when he leaned away he pressed his index finger below your chin, lifting your head off of his shoulder, and asked to kiss you. Your lips felt like serenity, finally peace in his world, where there were no intentions from either person, just love.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

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

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

(Consider supporting me on Ko-fi)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[rosieofcorona]

All We Do Not Say

Hi beloveds! I have crafted a soft little Gale fic for you because it's my firm belief that everyone's favorite wizard deserves all the warmth in the world. 😌 Also on AO3, if you prefer. As always, thank you for reading. 💕

There was a time in his life that Gale could sleep anywhere, provided he had a good book and a space to sit down. 

In Waterdeep, he might wake in his armchair or on his balcony with the weight of an ancient tome still resting in his lap, or at his desk, his cheek pressed against parchment. The smell of it, of ink and lignin, would bring him back to his senses before his eyes were fully open, and he’d recall what he’d been studying, and begin reading again. 

At home, in his tower, he could do this night after night and still feel mostly rested come morning. 

But he is far from his tower, and farther each day.

Perhaps it is the orb that keeps him up as of late, with its insatiable, unnatural hunger, or perhaps it is the tadpole that wriggles and pulses impatiently inside his skull. Or it could, he supposes, be the simpler and less curable matter of aging– an affliction that seems, on occasion, more frightening than either of the others. 

Whatever the cause of his recent insomnia, it pulls Gale into a rather distressing cycle– he cannot sleep, so he cannot focus, so he cannot read, so he cannot sleep. 

Instead, he finds himself offering to keep watch over camp in the evenings, if only for the distraction. The far-off gibbering of a newborn gnoll, the crunch of foliage under goblin feet, an animal scream– each night a fresh and distant horror calls his mind away from greater threats, from illithids and tadpoles and gods.

It’s an odd remedy, he knows. But the alternative is lying awake in his tent, turning death over and over in his mind until the thought is worn smooth as a river stone. 

It works well for a time, keeps his mind on the present and off of some vague, future doom.

That is, at least, until they reach the Underdark. 

Deep beneath Faerûn, there is something profoundly disturbing about the lack of…well, everything. They find no grand cities or quaint little villages, few animals and even fewer people. 

No trees, no light. No sky. 

Most nights spent underground are so quiet that Gale may as well stay in his bedroll, staring up at a canopy of fabric, dark as the velvet earth above them. 

He thinks, It is like being buried alive, without even the stars to bear witness. 

On these nights he can feel the stones in his head turning over.

Even so, come the evening (or what he guesses is evening), Gale volunteers to stand sentinel for the fifth time in a tenday. 

He always asks them after dinner, when his companions are most likely to agree, after his cooking has warmed them and filled their bellies and made them want nothing more than to close their eyes and dream of somewhere, anywhere else. 

Tav is the only one who protests with any frequency, the only one who seems to notice that the circles under his eyes are half a shade darker than they were yesterday, when they were half a shade darker than the day before. 

Even on nights when she convinces someone else to take his place, he will relieve them after Tav has gone to sleep. 

It starts the same way every time. 

Gale walks the perimeter in an infinite loop, looking for life in the darkness, illuminated only by the fire in the center of their camp. It makes him feel like a distant planet, nearly untouched by the sun. How strange to think that he’d once felt like the sun itself. 

He continues in his orbit until the subterranean cold gnaws at his limbs. It bites down hard on his nose and ears and fingers, chases him back to the fire, back to the light. 

Hypnotized by the flames and their radiant warmth, he does not hear the quiet stirring in the tent beyond his own, doesn’t hear the soft approach of nimble feet. 

A voice comes to him out of the darkness.

“I hope you’re not keeping watch again.” 

“Mystra,” Gale gasps, startled, the goddess’s name invoked in equal parts a prayer, a curse.

“Forgive me,” Tav says, through a laugh she cannot help. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” If it were anyone else he might be annoyed, or even a little embarrassed– but the sound of her laughter bubbles like seafoam over sand, rushes over and around him. Coupled with the relief that she is not some dreadful creature of the Underdark, he finds it difficult to feel anything besides affection. 

“It’s quite alright,” he recovers, with a shake of his head. “You surprised me, that’s all.”

“Then I really hope you’re not keeping watch.” 

She is teasing him now, just lightly, a familiar spark of warmth behind her eyes. 

It is the same look she gives him when she brings him a new book, or when he cooks for her, or when he tells her about Waterdeep. It is the same look she gave him earlier in the day, when she had offered to brew him a tea that might help him to sleep.

Gale has trouble remembering the last time another looked at him this way, so interested and inviting and earnest. 

Perhaps, he thinks, another never has. 

“Are you alright?” Tav asks, when he’s been quiet for too long.  

“Of course,” he says with the sincerity of a promise, offered with a smile that he hopes will be convincing. “Just lost in thought.” 

There is a part of him that doesn’t want to leave it there, that wants to share his every thought with her, his every terror, every dream. She must know that there is more to it, must’ve learned by now to recognize when Gale isn’t telling her everything, but he is grateful that she doesn’t press him, never presses him. 

Instead she breaks into a grin and says, “You’re lucky I’m not a bulette.” 

“I’m lucky they’re not so light-footed. What are you doing up, anyway?”

“The cold always wakes me, sooner or later,” Tav sighs. “If I’d known it was so godsdamned frigid down here, I might’ve nicked a fur or two from the Zhent.” 

It’s Gale’s turn to laugh, though she’s only half-joking. 

She’s drawn near to him, to the flames, her palms outstretched, her fingers spread wide as if to grab hold of as much warmth as possible. 

“But it’s alright,” she continues, “So as long as I’m close to the fire.” 

“Any closer and you’ll be in it, I’m afraid. Perhaps I can help.” 

Tav tilts her head and quirks an eyebrow in a curious little expression. “Can you?”

“If you’ll allow me.” 

Gale turns to face her fully, and she mirrors him out of instinct. 

“Hold out your hands to me,” he says. “Palms together, just barely. Like you’re praying.” 

“Like this?” “Like that.” 

The spell is one his mother taught him, among the first he’d ever learned. 

He still remembers that winter in Waterdeep, when the snow fell hard and fast. When the ice in the harbor kept the ships at arm’s length and the frozen streets shone like glass. He was young then, six or seven, but even now he can feel his small hands in Morena’s, warmed by a word and a touch. 

Warm and fed, she used to tell him. That’s how you show someone they’re loved. 

Gale cages Tav’s hands lightly in his own, the way he might hold a butterfly. He pushes all thoughts of winter away and calls to mind the rippling heat of summer, an orchard grown fat with peaches, the silvery shimmer of sweat on skin. 

The rose-petal flush of a cheek cradled in a hand, her cheek, his hand…

“Calor aestas,” he says quietly, when the image comes into clear view. He feels the cold melt from her fingers, hears the comfortable sigh that follows. “Better?”

“Yes,” she murmurs. “Much.” 

She is looking at him now with an intensity he has not seen since the night he first showed her the Weave, all that time ago. The night he saw her thoughts laid bare, had all but felt her lips on his. 

Had she seen them now, the visions he had conjured? Had she felt him pull her close in his own mind?

Tav clears her throat softly and he comes back to himself, his heartbeat thrashing wildly in his chest. He realizes with some urgency that he has not let her go and pulls back suddenly, but not without reluctance. 

“I hope,” he swallows, trying to compose himself. “I hope it helps you sleep.” 

“Do you want me to stay up with you?”

Yes, he thinks selfishly, Yes. Stay up with me, stay close to me, always. 

He shakes his head instead. “You should rest while the spell holds.”

“And how long is that?”

“As long as I’m able to concentrate.” 

He will think of her hands and their pull on a bowstring, their pluck of a lyre, their grip on a sword. How they weave her own magic, how they cradle a book. How they felt clasped in his, soft and cold. 

A focus worth holding, at last. 

“Only if it’s no trouble,” she says. 

“None at all.” 

Gale is grateful that he manages to stop himself, for once, from saying the rest of the thought as it enters his head. I would think of you anyway, magic or no.  

Tav takes his hand in hers again, this time to squeeze it fondly.

For a moment, he feels that if he were to die just now– from the orb, from the tadpole, in the jaws of a hungry bulette– it would all have been worth it, for this. 

“Thank you, Gale.”

Her smile is warmer than any summer he remembers, brighter than any star he can name.

[druizard]

For your Gale x reader one-shots- could you do Gale x f!reader, in any situation that involves f!reader enjoying a long-anticipated hot bath? Perhaps with Gale mildly miffed that he wasn't invited, but gloriously welcome when he arrives?

no pressure if this isn't to your taste. This prompt kinda lends itself to E-rated content, but you can totally keep it SWF too, whatever you prefer.

Oh this is absolutely my taste, anon! Thank you for this prompt!! ♥ I decided to go with post game, married Gale/Reader who pursued the adventurer lifestyle, so I hope that works for you too ^^

Wizard Water Heater

Gale & F!Reader One Shot

Author: Charlee Monstah [Druizard]

Rating: explicit

Words: 1,963

Read on AO3!

Excerpt:

“I can't wait to sit down,” you sigh, shifting balance from one foot to another, trying to displace the radiating pain.

“I know, my love, soon,” Gale chuckles, brushing your dirty hair out of your face. After spending the last 48 hours thoroughly exploring an ancient crypt, both of you were elated to find a nice tavern in the nearby village.

“Sorry for the wait!” A little blue kobold sang as she hopped on top of the tavern's front counter. She hands a brass key to Gale, along with a piece of parchment, listing off the tavern's services. “Here is your room key! We have lots and lots to eat and drink! Make sure you try the chef's special!”

“Oh, I'm so hungry, I could eat a basilisk!” You say, turning to Gale and grabbing his hands in yours. “Honey, do you think you could get us something to eat? Maybe a bottle of wine for our room?”

“If the lady wishes to have tasty treatos brought to her dwelling, sir is more than welcome to place an order with the bartender!” The friendly kobold points towards a crowded dining room, where a long line of people stood waiting to speak with the bartender.

“Alright,” Gale sighs, wanting nothing more than to sit down, but he knows how tired and sore you are as well. “Go take our things up to the room and put your feet up, my love. It looks like there's a line, so I'll meet you in the room after I give them our order.” He hands you his pack and plants a tender kiss on your lips before watching your backside as you walk away.

Continue reading on AO3!

[vibingandsimping]

I always feel so awkward/flustered requesting things, but the bg3 brain rot is so real. Could I ask for specifically Gale’s, and/or also anyone else of your choice (if you want obvs), like reaction to a virgin!Tav, like never had more than a peck on the hand or cheek inexperienced? I’m just absolutely feral over a shy, never been kissed Tav and companions~~~

Tav is just like me, fr. I appreciate you pushing your comfort zone and asking. Never feel ashamed to request something on my blog. <3

I liked this idea so will count it towards my second follower goal special. Funny how both of them ended up being Gale requests, honestly. Attempted to keep it gender neutral.

Word count: Around 2,000

Forewarnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, partial loss of virginity, oral (receiving), undergarment stealing, porn with little plot.

Gale, himself, had been quite inexperienced before Mystra. He just had himself so deeply rooted in his books and studies he thought the time was… wasted. It wasn’t that he couldn’t seek a partner, no, he just didn’t fare the effort. Mystra sought him out and how in the hells could he turn a literal goddess down? That relationship burned and crashed. Honestly, he was thankful for it now. He met you. You struck him like no other. You were more than Mystra. So when feelings reciprocated? Gale was elated.

He judged on your nerve that you either found him stunning, or, you lacked experience. He thought the latter. Whenever he held your hand and gazed into your eyes you seemed to shake. It was cute. His palm cupping your cheek and you’d flush so deeply he’d fear you suddenly fell ill. Often times, you’d break it off before things escalated beyond a hand holding or a gentlemanly kiss. Gale didn’t take to it harshly, at first. He yearned for your skin, your lips, your touch. He tried to make that clear in his language. Hands reaching for you more often, bodies closing the distance. He’d never push too far, though. Gale’s shame would be immense if he scared you.

Some gentle probing finally pulled some truth from you, one evening. You were a virgin. Never even having been kissed before. He wasn’t sure whether to comfort you or take a primal hunger in the idea of being your first. Lips and body, hopefully. He brushed it off initially, saying that he’d tend to your needs when you were ready. His words lingering in the air as he made it apparent that he craved you. Lusted and loved, in every sense. You nearly combusted and stammered. Gods, you were going to be his ruin. Mystra, forgive him but he believed you more enchanting than she ever was.

The first time he tasted your lips was under the guise of moonlight. Northern lights dancing in the sky as the moment you shared tender. You relaxed in the privacy and comfort of him. He bore his heart to you that night. Explaining his fears- his worries and his longing. It was shocking to see you make the first move, your hand cupping his face this time. You drew him in and he closed the distance. He swore he was flying when he pressed against the plush of your lips. Moving in and out, feeling the breath of each other dance along skin. His hand reached out and rested on your knee. You covered it with your own, grasping it in your hold. Fingers interlocked and he took the initiative to deepen the moment. His tongue flicked against your lips and the whimper that followed made him shiver.

As soon as it happened, he pulled away with a pant. Doe-brown eyes searching your expression as his mind raced. “I apologize if I am taking things too far or too fast. Your beauty strikes me and all I wish is for this moment to last an eternity.” You laugh, squeezing his hand reassuringly. Then, you shake your head and draw him in closer. “No, it’s okay. I think i’m ready. I want you, Gale.” His nostrils flare at the words and he steels himself, watching you intently. Nerve trickled in your voice but there was no outward hesitancy in your desires. He sits for a moment and soaks everything in. The satisfaction and sight of you presenting yourself to him. Vulnerable and so willing. He trailed his free hand to your shoulder and gently pushed you onto the grass. Intertwined hand next to your head as he claims your lips once more.

You could only lay and enjoy the sensation he was giving you. His fingers tickling down your shoulder to your chest. He was more than happy to lead you in this dance of pleasure. It would pave a path into many nights where you could enjoy each other. He’d be able to forget what it was like imagining your flesh. His tongue parted your lips and licked at your own tongue. You exhaled a sharp breath through your nostrils, sloppily trying to reciprocate. He smirked a little and continued to guide you as his hand lowered to where your sleep-shirt rested at your hips. His fingers were a little cold from the air as he slipped underneath it to feel your stomach. Gale parted from your lips to your jaw, continuing his love there down to your neck. Arousal from the touch of another was strange- but definitely not unwelcome. Gods, no, it’s so welcome. Your thighs clenched as he kissed over a particularly sensitive spot of your neck. Seemingly noticing your shift, he nibbles and sucks on it. The sensation causes you to gasp and writhe underneath him.

His palm presses flat on your stomach, using his strength to keep you still. Once he finds enough satisfaction after leaving a hickey, his lips trail down to your shoulder. A final kiss is left and he lifts himself to meet your gaze. His lips are wet and a tad swollen as his lids are halved. The sight made your loins tingle. It spoke all lust and admiration. He took such pleasure in watching and feeling you succumb to his touch. He nods downward at you, gesturing to your shirt and you nod in return. With the confirmation, he slips your shirt over your head and soaks the sight of you topless in. You can feel him shake a little as he hovers over your body. He lowers himself and slides downward to plant kisses against your collarbone. They follow to the middle of your ribs until he’s level with your nipples. He looks upwards through his eyebrows as he wraps his lips around one. You keen- arching your back as he suckles while his fingers tend to the neglected.

You hardly notice when his lips meet your lower stomach. Reaching to your pelvis as he slowly works your pants down your legs. You help him by shimmying your hips- and he groans in satisfaction when the skin is revealed. His hands contact your thighs and hold you down while he continues kissing along your pelvis- tickling the undergarments you wore. Your breath hitched and fingers twitched at the grass underneath you. Torn between admiring the sky or him as he worked your body so beautifully. A nibble caught your daze and you whimpered. He parted and cherished in the kisses and little marks he’d left. “Love,” he whispered and you craned your neck to look at him, “It is not too late to stop. I won’t force this upon you.” Admittedly, you paused for a moment and stared at him. Smiling and reaching out, his face was cupped in your hand. “No. I want this.” He visibly perked.

“Then, may I?” His fingers slipped under the waistband and tugged. You nodded with a twinkle of amusement. The cold air on your sensitive flesh made you hiss- but he was quick. Fingers and tongue meeting with little hesitance. You jerked at the sensation and he simply hummed, easing you down. It seemed he waited a moment for you to adjust before working his magic (pun intended). His tongue licked and worked you in circles while his fingers explored the flesh around. Your thighs, your rear- anything he could touch. He was keen to listen to your whimpers and observe your movements. He’d stop when you’d flinch and he’d continue when you moaned. Quite honestly, the coil in your stomach twisted and wound faster than you’d anticipate. He collected the mix of your arousal and his saliva onto his fingers. They circled your entrance and gently prodded, allowing you time to recognize his desire through the haze that was pleasure. It didn’t come easy when he started to push them in- no, you tensed and cried out. Gale continued working your sex while his spare hand caressed your flesh comfortingly. Once he was past the first ring- everything began to slowly ease.

His eyes watched you carefully as he slowly began to explore the inside of you. You were thankful for how patient he was being. Stopping whenever it seemed to overwhelm you and continuing when the stillness became unbearable. It was a few minutes before you could finally find a deeper pleasure in the touch rather than the discomfort or pain. He hummed approvingly against your sensitive parts- and you whined. His fingers were relatively thick but mostly long. They searched inside you until your body writhed as he brushed against a spot that made your eyelids flutter. It was over after that, he didn’t miss a heartbeat adjusting his tune to increasing the intensity of his mouth and tongue while abusing it with his fingers. You couldn’t contain the depraved sounds you made after that. Gripping at whatever you could; settling on his hair with tight white knuckles. Breaths were shallow as everything came to a crescendo and- crashed. It crashed hard. You were a writhing mess under him as a strangled cry cut from your throat.

Gale happily licked and cleaned up any mess you made as he worked you through your orgasm. Thighs clenching and unclenching around his head as he milked you of all you’re worth. He pulled away when the brink of overstimulation set in, wiping at his face with a grin-eating smirk. You lay like a fish out of water, riding the high and twitching with aftershocks. The man curled up beside you and cooed comfortingly in your ear while you recovered. You could feel his erection press into your skin through his robe but he paid no mind. He laid with you for however long until you could breathe and think with some sort of clarity. Recognizing that, he spoke. “Beautiful, truly beautiful. I have craved to see that for ages now. Yet, nothing my imagination could supply would have compared to it.” He laughed softly while you melted at the sound. “Do you need some… erm-“ You gestured towards the mass against your leg. He blinked, looked downward and smiled bashfully. “No,” he claimed and you blinked in shock. “I wore you out thoroughly with that. I will be fine- there are opportunities ahead. It will make it all the sweeter. Besides, I want you to cry my name out next time.” He shushed any rebuttal you had with a kiss. Soft yet passionate- with the aftertaste of you on his lips.

He grabbed your discarded garments and began to wipe the rest of the mess from between your thighs. You flinched and shivered at the touch of the highly-alert flesh. He kissed your ear tenderly to reassure you before curling the fabric into a ball and pocketing it. You gave him a pointed look- questioning. “Keepsake.” He muttered with a blush. A shiver ran down your spine at the perversion of the act. Yet, it made you feel so desired all the same. “Do you need anything? Food or water?” His eagerness to confirm your comfort made your chest swell. You shook your head and claimed you only wanted to relax with him. Gale visibly softened at that, almost awestruck. He assisted you back into your clothing and fixed your sex-messed hair. The night was still after that. Wrapped in his arms as his breath washed over you from the proximity. His fingers danced along your skin and traced unknown shapes. Everything felt as close to perfect as you’ve gotten in… a long while. You knew you couldn’t stay there the entire night. It just felt right to enjoy the rest of the moment with him til you had to return. Return to the madness that was your current life.

For now, you could forget the tadpole. You could forget anything that wasn’t the feeling of his warm body pressed to yours and the afterglow of everything that occurred.

[bakuliwrites]

It's the little things that Astarion comes to savor with his freedom.

Over the course of his journey with you and the others, he wakes every morning to the gilded light of the sun. He greets it as if greeting an old friend, basking in the warmth of reunion. He's not sure how much longer he'll have to enjoy it, so he relishes every moment he spends in its incandescent light.

Astarion savors the smell of freshly brewed tea. Bergamot, lemon, mint. Herbaceous, floral, earthy, bright. He breathes it all in, everything he can. Long gone are the fetid smells of rot and pungent bile that filled Cazador's palace. Every once in a while, a carcass on the road might hit him with that powerful, unpleasant scent memory. So he's taken to carrying a handkerchief he's spritzed with his signature scent in order to cover his mouth and nose when the memories come flooding back. Something to ground him in the present moment. Over time, when the scent of the handkerchief begins to fade and his bond with his companions grows closer, he starts to douse it in their various perfumes. To remind him of family. To remind him of his real home.

Everything feels bright and new. Sometimes overwhelmingly so. But always transcendently beautiful. The green of the leaves high above him, the way the ground is dappled with sunlight. The almost lurid colors of wildflowers, harsh on his eyes at first, but he'd rather that then the sapped grays of his previous confines. He marvels at the sun sinking beyond the horizon in vibrant pinks and oranges. He hems and haws over various dyes sold by merchants along the road, wondering what color might suit him best. There are so many to choose from, so many striking possibilities.

Astarion cherishes moonlit walks down quiet roads, fingers intertwined with yours, the stars twinkling high above. Gazing upwards, there's a vastness that stretches infinitely above. No longer is he trapped, enclosed in the depths. When he looks up, there's no ceiling to greet him. No ominous, crushing darkness. Only the boundless heavens above, and a wide world unfurling around him.

Astarion holds close every moment he shares with his fellow adventurers. The back and forth teasing, all in good fun, all out of affection. Although sometimes the arguments turn nasty. But even these don't bother him for long. At the end of the day, everyone settles and anger is forgotten around the crackling warmth of the campfire. Sharing meals together, resting under the shade of a great tree. Swapping stories, weaving tales together. Karlach's resounding laughter echoing through the night. Shadowheart's quiet smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Lae'zel begrudgingly smirking at one of Astarion’s snarky quips. Halsin's strong, but quiet presence. Astarion even finds himself smiling at some of Gale's various displays of his magic and Wyll's heroic tales. He'd never admit any of that out loud to them, but when his eyelids start to droop at night, he smiles to himself, grateful to be amongst friendly company.

Astarion cherishes waking up next to you every morning, and settling in beside you every night. You kissing him awake, lips featherlight on his forehead, his cheeks, his lips. The crook of your neck is a safe space for Astarion, one you've helped him build over these last several months. When he's there, he feels protected. You hold him close, enveloping him warmly in your embrace, surrounding him in the gentle scent of you and the metal of your blood. You and the people in this little camp have come to mean safety, nourishment, and home to him. And it's these little things that mean more than anything to Astarion in the whole world.

[thechaoticdruid]

[The Spawn Vs The Ascendant]

Astarion(s) x Tav

Plot: I made a post a while back about Ascended Astarion meeting Spawn Astarion via multiversal timeline shenanigans and legit maybe one person shared a fic with a similar premise.

So basically I was like *puts on infinity gauntlet* “Fine, I'll do it myself.”

Content Warning// 18+ for Sexual humor and suggestive themes. I legit have not been in the fanfiction business in years so go easy on me. 

Characters might be ooc. Spelling/Grammar mistakes may be present. A wee bit of blood and violence. Gale is made fun of. Tav is based heavily off my human druid Tav, Winnie and uses She/Her pronouns.//

Possible Triggers: Ascended Astarion, kidnapping, mentioned character death, possessiveness, obsession, AA touches Tav without her consent (not sexually tho), Galeshaming. 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Ah, the Elfsong. There was really no better place to unwind after a long day of adventuring. And there was really nothing better to help one unwind than a favorite snack, a cold drink and lovely company. Unfortunately for Tav she'd have to wait up on the company as her beloved was currently preoccupied with his nightly grooming. Gods only know how long that man will take doing his hair. The human female rolled her eyes and brought her wine bottle to her lips taking a few swigs before biting into some cheese she'd been nibbling on prior.  Tav lounged about on their shared bed wearing nothing but a black tank and red boxers. Despite the peace and relaxation she was getting pretty bored without her love to snuggle and gossip with. Tav finished off the last few bites of cheese before she pulled out the private journal she'd been keeping since this whole adventure began. Little doodles of her partner decorated the pages along with her chicken scratch handwriting. 

She had documented details of their adventure whenever she had the chance and also took the time to add various doodles of her companions and any monsters they encountered. (Some of her favorite drawings included herself opening a bottle and releasing a spectator. And of course a lovely little drawing of her and Astarion kicking the shit out of Cazador.)

As she waited Tav began to entertain herself by writing down a to-do list.  

“Ah lets see…Yep definitely gonna have to have a chat with that pompous prick who was threatening a kid the other day. Maybe I can invite him back to the tavern later? I'm sure Star wouldn't mind having a snack.” Tav hummed, scribbling down everything she had planned out as of late.

Shit I need to do:

‘Feed rich tit to boyfriend.’ 

‘Teach Shadowheart to swim.’

‘Buy Clive a best friend.’ 

‘Murder baddies.’

‘Wildshape into a pigeon and shit on Gortash's head.’

‘Buy boyfriend cute clothes.’

‘Take Gale shopping for wizardy stuff.’

‘Look into real estate in the Underdark.’

‘Take Scratch for a walk.’

‘Kill more bad people.’

‘Contemplate licking dead spider.’

‘Be screamed at by Gale for licking dead spider.’

‘Buy flowers for Karlach and Shadowheart.’

‘Buy boyfriend more cute clothes.’

‘Study wizard stuff.’

‘Help Moon Lesbians plan wedding.’

‘Research ring of the sunwalker.’

‘Piss off the Gods……Again…’

‘Remember to take Astarion on romantic beach date before fighting the Elder Brain.’

‘Unalive people of not goodness.’

‘Shave Gale’s beard while he sleeps.’

‘Continue writing smutty novel series so I can keep buying boyfriend cute clothes.’

“Tav, a word please.” Gale appeared from around the corner. Tav groaned, annoyed by the prospect of having to get up. Especially since Gale looked like he was going to scold her for something. Begrudgingly she hopped off the bed, leaving the comfort of her room to see what in the hells that damn wizard wanted. 

“What do you need, Gale? I'm kinda in the middle of writing down my to-do list.”

“Am I inclined to believe that you've been writing erotic novels that feature Astarion and I?” The wizard inquired.

“Pfft! What in the hells gave you that idea!” Tav laughed, her eyes staring off to the side nervously as she twiddled her thumbs. Gale pulled out a red leather bound book titled ‘Blood-Mage’. It was a ridiculously smutty novel about a young handsome sorcerer named Garrett Delarous who is reluctantly forced to team up with a dastardly, but world endingly beautiful Vampire Lord in order to save the world or some shit. (The book mostly focused more on smut than plot.) Amazingly the novel had made a killing after Tav had peddled it at Sharess's Caress. It seemed nearly everyone wanted a copy.  (Tav was also pretty sure she noticed Halsin was reading the book as well.)

“My series is about a renowned sorcerer and a Vampire Lord. There's a difference, Gale.” Tav crossed her arms with a huff. 

“You can't just profit off of other people's likenesses Tav! You at least need to pay them royalties!” 

“I always give half the money I earn to Astarion.” 

“I’m talking about me!”

“I think my beloved ‘gloves of power’ were more than enough payment for you.” Tav huffed before looking off to the side with a sad look.

I miss those gloves so much.

Gale sighed in annoyance, pinching the bride of his nose. He was used to Tav’s shenanigans at this point but this was just ridiculous. Not to mention while skimming through Tav's scandalous work he noticed the sorcerer was always on the bottom during intimate scenes. The audacity!

“Besides I use the money I make from this for not only myself and Astarion, but the rest of the camp as well. Adventuring ain't cheap ya know?” 

“You can at least give me a small percentage of the profits. Say thirty percent?” 

“Ten percent.” Tav said flatly.

“Twenty percent?”

“Ten percent.” Tav repeated.

“Fine.” Gale gives in, causing the shorter of the two to smirk triumphantly. Tav watched smugly as the wizard slumped off in defeat before quickly adding another note to her to-do list.

‘Give 10% of book money to the stinky wizard.’

Tav finished off her list as she felt a pair of cool arms wrap around her form from behind, her cheeks tinting light pink. “Do you really need to take five hours in the bath?”  She hummed, turning her head to meet her partner’s crimson gaze. His hair was dry and looked rather soft and silky and he was dressed in this eccentric red silk robe with fluffy black trim.

“You can't rush art, darling.” Astarion purred before nuzzling his cheek against hers. “You know if you were getting impatient you could have joined me in the tub. I would have loved the company.” He murmured huskily.

“In these tiny ass bathtubs? I'd have to sit on your lap and even then I doubt we'd have enough room to really do anything.” Tav replied, nuzzling back against him. 

“We could still try.~” The vampire cooed.

“Tempting, but the others have whined enough about our night time activities. Apparently we're noisy.” 

“Then perhaps next time I shall have to gag you won't I?” 

“Alright! I'm ending this conversation here!” Tav said quickly, face burning up at his teasing. 

“Besides, I’ll need some sleep for tomorrow. Gortash won't kill himself, unfortunately.” Tav said with a yawn.

“Really? Now? I was hoping you'd at least cuddle with me before bed.” Astarion pouted.

“Oh you poor thing. Fine, we can cuddle till I fall asleep. Cutie.” The human female smiled sweetly before planting a kiss on her lover's cheek, receiving a content hum in response. Tav turned to pull away from the elf's embrace before suddenly feeling herself be scooped up and tossed over his shoulder.

“Hey! What did I say about picking me up!?” She whined, squirming a bit as she hung over his shoulder. “I don't like being manhandled!”

“But you're so adorable like this.~” Astarion teased, his hand gripping her ass as he carried over to the bed. Despite Tav’s complaints she did little else in protest besides pout and blush as she was whisked away. The two of them soon settled on the bed, Tav immediately nuzzling into Astarion's chest and relaxing. Astarion’s clawed fingernails found their way into her messy locks, caressing and running through them as the two snuggled together. His skin was cold to the touch, but honestly Tav actually liked it. It kinda reminded her of the cool side of her pillow. Even though there was the constant threat of death around every corner the two of them were still able to cherish their time together, and hopefully now that Astarion had been freed of his master they would continue to do so.

 There was still the tiny issue of an evil alien brain thing that could turn them into soulless squid monsters, but they'd be able to take care of that sooner or later. A part of Tav wanted to put it off as selfish and dangerous as it could be. Because as soon as they destroyed the brain, they'd destroy the only protection Astarion had against the sun. Tav wasn't about to give up on finding a way for her love to enjoy the sun, but for now she'd at least make the time he has left in it special. 

“Star….” Tav murmured aloud, her head tilting upwards to meet her partner's eyes.

“Yes dear?” He hummed.

“You know there's actually something I've been meaning to talk to you about. We've been together for a while now and well…we haven't actually had a real date….I mean I guess it's understandable considering we have to save the world and shit, but I was thinking maybe if there's time we could do something together....”  Tav bit down on her lip as she sat up on the bed. She felt nervous all of a sudden, not used to asking for stuff like this. Astarion had always been the one to initiate most of their romantic activities. The best Tav could do was a kiss on the cheek or a hug and even that had taken a while for her to get comfortable with. 

“What about all our little late night trysts? Do those not count as dates?” Astarion raised an eyebrow though his tone was playful.

“Ehh…well…rolling around in the dirt in the middle of nowhere isn't exactly what I'd call a date.” Tav said awkwardly, earning a chuckle from her vampire. 

“I suppose you're right. We've never really had any bonding time without you being pinned underneath me.” He joked before quickly clearing his throat and finally trying to be serious. “What do you have in mind, darling?”

“I just want to take you out somewhere…We could go out to eat or just walk in the park….” The human female twiddled her thumbs as she trailed off, feeling butterflies in her stomach. “I'd be up for anything really as long as I'm with you.” 

“I…would like that very much, my love.” Astarion cupped her cheek, his eyes soft and full of affection.  He pulled her into a sweet chaste kiss, allowing her to return it before she pulled back and rested his forehead against hers.

Thudd!

Tav quickly pulled back from Astarion's embrace as she heard a noise. She looked around frantically for the sound.

“Tav? Is something wrong?” Astarion asked.

“I just heard something…” She said before suddenly her eyes landed at the window near their bed.  On the opposite side of the window seat a small white bat could be seen looking through the glass. Its little red eyes stared at the human with an intense gaze. “It's a bat.” Tav pointed towards the window. Astarion looked over at the little creature before internally groaning.

 No. She better not even think about it!  

The bat blinked, looking at Tav a few times before curling its left wing against its body. 

“I think its wing is injured!” Tav exclaimed with concern.

“Ugh leave it! We've taken in enough stray beasts!” Astarion scoffed, but Tav immediately ignored him, rushing over to the window. 

“Tav! Don't! It probably has some horrible disease or something!”

Tav quickly opened the window, her eyes going soft as she looked down at the small animal. She moved to scoop it up into her arms but before she could the bat simply fell back. 

“Shit!” She shouted. 

“Thank the gods, it's dead. Now come back to bed, darling.” Astarion said, patting the spot besides him. Tav just glared at him silently before suddenly she wildshaped into a raven and flew out the window.

~•~•~•~•~

While Tav didn't preach about nature 24/7 like Halsin did she was still just as much of a druid as he was and couldn't bear to stay by while an injured animal was in need. (Much to her lover's dismay.)  She'd flown out the window of their room and circled around looking for the little bat. 

There was no sign of the winged beast anywhere near the elfsong, but at least that was a sign it likely hadn't fallen to its death. Tav kept searching, eventually straying further from the tavern until she was forced to land and give her wings a breather, returning back to her human form.  

“Dammit it's so dark I can't tell where I am. Everything looks different at night.” Her eyes strained as she struggled to make out any familiarity. Despite having lived in Baldur's Gate for about ten years Tav had always made it a point not to roam about at night. Her lack of dark vision made night time prowling even more dangerous, especially in this city.

She decided to reserve her strength instead of wild-shaping again. From what she could make out in the dark she'd found herself in one of the back alleys. Tav kept stumbling around in the dark for a while until at last she began to consider heading back. The bat likely wasn't dead since she had seen no hair or hide of it and she really wasn't in the mood to find herself in trouble. It constantly seemed to follow Tav these days it seemed. Last time she wandered around the city by herself she got into a fist fight with some stuck up noble lady who had referred to her as ‘a fat ugly little boy’. (The others were not happy about sneaking her out of prison that day.)

Just as Tav was about to assume the form of a beast fit for the night she noticed some light up ahead. The graveyard had been illuminated by a couple of lanterns. Tav approached hoping it would help her map out her way back if she just remembered how to get to the Elfsong from there. However as soon as she got close to the light someone was waiting for her. 

“Astarion?” Tav called out as her silver haired lover stepped out of the darkness. She expected nagging, and complaining about having to come out here looking for her, but instead Astarion just stared at her intensely as if studying every detail of her face. “Are you okay?” She asked with concern. Something was very strange about this. Astarion being quiet for long was never a good sign. Tav scanned him over, almost immediately noting his elegant attire. A black and red suit with silver bats embroidered on it. Odd. Tav had never seen him wear this outfit before. And he was always quick to show off any new clothes to her, seeking her praise. Astarion moved towards her quickly and out of nowhere pulled her into a crushing hug. 

“Yes of course. I was just worried about you, my sweet.” His grip on her was almost uncomfortably tight, as if he was holding onto her for dear life. 

“I haven't been gone that long….” Tav stiffened. There was an abnormal warmth to his body. Sure he was able to raise his temperature after feeding, but there was hardly a decent supply of beasties for him to nibble on in this city, not to mention he would have had to have found one pretty damn fast before seeking her out.  

“You’ve always been such a brave little thing, haven't you?” He let out a chuckle, his grip on her didn’t falter. His tone didn't seem threatening, but one thing for sure set off an alarm in her.

Thump-thump. 

Thump-thump.

Thump-thump.

Tav immediately ripped herself away from him and took a few steps back, her eyes glaring daggers.  “Who the hells are you?” She snapped. 

“Whatever, ever do you mean, pet?” His voice was full of false innocence, it reminded her a lot of how Astarion would often speak whenever accusations were hurled at him, but this person was definitely not her lover. 

Tav’s first instinct was to assume he'd probably been one of the shape-changers they'd been attacked by in the past, but there was this gnawing gut feeling that this time was different. 

“Drop the act. I've already met enough shit heads running around wearing someone else's face. Who are you really?”

“I’m Astarion. Really dear, I'm disappointed you have so little faith in me that you'd think I'd allow some lowly shape-changers near you.” He took a few steps forward. 

“Stay away from me…” Tav growled out through gritted teeth. Damnit. She didn't have any weapons and was literally in her sleepwear. 

“You seem tired, love. Perhaps we should head back so you can get some rest?” He extended his hand towards her.  Tav was about to say something else before suddenly an arrow came out of nowhere, nearly hitting the Astarion look alike in the shoulder. He was able to dodge just in the nick of time.  Tav gasped in surprise before quickly turning back to see another…. Astarion?

The two looked identical aside from their clothing. The imposter was wearing his elegant suit and the other one (whom Tav hoped to the gods was actually him) was wearing a familiar red and black doublet. 

“Hells teeth.” Astarion spoke up as he looked over at the two.  Tav immediately sniffed air around the second Astarion. The tiniest whiff of death hit her senses and immediately she ran over to him. 

“Star!” Tav was by his side in an instant. His arm quickly looped around her hip protectively before he scanned over her face. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, receiving a nod in response.  Astarion then looked over towards his look alike. “My, aren't you just beautiful? I must admit I'm quite flattered you chose to imitate me.” 

“Is that what you think of me? I'm hurt.” The other vampire laughed. “I am no mere imitation. I am you…..well a better you.” 

“You're not making any sense!” Tav hissed, her jaw clenching as she suppressed the urge to let out an animal-like growl.  

“Allow me to shed some light on it then. I come from a reality where instead of choosing to remain weak and pathetic we became who we always wanted to be.”  Tav's eyes widened at the revelation, though she was still debating whether or not to believe all this madness. Of course she'd been to hells, the shadowfell and even fought a god so maybe this wasn't too far fetched.

“The Vampire Ascendant.”

“If you're telling the truth then why are you here? You have everything you want don't you?” The vampire spawn quirked an eyebrow. Meanwhile the Ascendant’s face suddenly turned cold. He almost looked sad. 

“I did. Wealth, power, pleasure, everything I could ever dream of. I was on the cusp of dominating the entirety of the sword coast. Everything was mine. But none of it mattered without the one thing I cherished most. My beloved consort. My Tav.” His eyes suddenly locked into the human female. She felt small, cornered, like a rat caught between a cat’s paws. “He was taken from me…” 

Tav stiffened, taking a step back. She really did not like where this was going. Her lover kept a gentle hold on her, staying between her and the other vampire.

“And now you're here to take my Tav I presume?” Astarion scoffed, “you obviously didn't care very much about yours then if you're already looking for a replacement.” 

“HE WAS EVERYTHING TO ME!” Before Tav could think her lover was knocked off his feet. A punch had come at him faster than he could react. The Ascendant stood over him, shaking with anger. Tav moved over towards the vampire spawn as quickly as she could, checking him out. He seemed alright, albeit a little winded, possibly bruised. Astarion huffed, getting back to his feet. Tav was quick to cast cure wounds on him to help perk him back up.  

The Ascendant took in a breath, regaining his composure. While the spawn swiftly tossed Tav a spare dagger from his pack. A fight was likely inevitable now. 

“I’ve searched across thousands of timelines. None of these pathetic excuses for adventurers came even close to my beloved. That is…until I found you of course…” The vampire lord pointed a clawed finger at the druid.  “You're the only one who resembles him in the slightest, albeit you are a bit more…voluptuous than he was.” He chuckled a bit. 

“Okay hold on a minute! You can't just come here and take someone else’s Tav because you lost yours!” Tav pointed her dagger shakily towards him.

“My dear, I don't think you understand. I am the Vampire Ascendant. I can take whatever I want!”

“I don't care if you're the fucking god of gnomes I'm not going anywhere with you. I have my own Astarion.” Tav gripped the blade tightly while her free hand prepared to cast a spell.

“I had hoped you'd come quietly, but it seems we'll have to do this the hard way.” With a flash of pink light Tav was hit with a sleeping spell and fell to the ground unconscious. Her dagger dropped to the ground with a clatter. The spawn was quick to move in front of Tav taking out his rapier and aiming a swipe at the other vampire. 

The Ascendant stepped back just as the thin slender blade nicked a cut across his attire, just barely missing his flesh. The spawn took another swing at him, nicking his side and gaining a kick to the ribs in return. The spawn huffed, quickly recovering before moving in for another attack.

However the Ascendant’s clawed hand struck first, slashing through the armor surrounding the Astarion's shoulder and slicing his flesh. The spawn cried out and gripped his arm as his counterpart smirked smugly, bringing his finger up to his lips and basically tasting his own blood. 

“Mmm…Delicious.~” He purred. The Ascendant’s crimson eyes trailed over towards Tav before beginning to glow red. “To me, now.” He said as if issuing a command to unseen soldiers.

Within seconds two oddly familiar figures appeared out of mist. A sickly pale looking Halsin and Shadowheart, both with glowing red orbs for eyes.  

“Gods below. You've turned your own friends into spawn!?” Astarion gasped, his face full of disgust. 

“Eh…I wouldn't exactly call them friends…. Though they are much more compliant this way.” The vampire lord replied with a toothy grin. The spawn felt sick to his stomach. To think he could have ended up this way.  

“Take care of my inferior self, would you darlings? I have places to be…” The Ascendant gave a small wave before quickly scooping the unconscious Tav up in his arms. 

“Yes master.” The undead Shadowheart and Halsin replied, a bright red light shone around their bodies as they were compelled to attack. 

“Farewell beautiful.” The vampire lord gave his spawn self a wink before quickly vanishing into mist, taking Tav along with him.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Astarion….” Tav muttered tossing and turning in her sleep as she slowly began to come to. She shot up in a cold sweat, her heart pounding.

“Ugh…That was a terrible dream. Star you wouldn't believe…” Tav went silent as her eyes scanned her surroundings. It in fact was not a dream. 

“Oh gods damnit.” She huffed.

 Tav was in a large elegant looking bedroom, lying upon a purple queen size bed adorned with fine silk sheets. Maroon red walls surrounded her and were decorated nicely by paintings and other fine wall decor.  The first thing the druid noticed after taking in her surroundings was the pressure around her neck. Her hands quickly reached for her throat feeling what seemed like a tight choker of some kind. She quickly hopped off the bed and looked into the mirror of a nearby vanity that sat west of the bed. “Fucking hells.” She breathed out as her eyes laid upon a black and red collar adorning her neck. There was this unnerving glow surrounding the collar. Most likely some kind of magic was placed on it. Quickly she curled her fingers preparing to use a spell in order to tear this damn thing off of her, but nothing happened. 

This thing must be silencing my casting somehow.

Tav for a moment before forming an idea. She could probably wildshape into something small and squeeze out. Maybe. The druid sighed before getting on all fours preparing to transform into a rat. She let out a grunt, but nothing happened. 

“Oh fuck you!” She shouted before rolling and desperately trying to yank the collar off.

 Tav growled and pulled on the neck piece, yanking as hard as she could, resorting to gnawing on it. 

Knock knock.

The druid immediately ceased her actions at the sound of the door. A shiver went down her spine at the thought of it being that so-called ‘Vampire Ascendant’ again.  Her eyes flickered around the room before she took hold of a candle stick and stood next to the door, back pressed against the wall. 

The door creaked open and a small figure walked inside. Tav prepared herself to strike down whoever had entered, but froze upon seeing the person. It was a small blonde haired half-elf woman, dressed in a house keeper's attire. 

Tav quickly looked into her eyes, letting out a sigh of relief as she noticed they were blue. She set the candlestick down on the vanity and looked at the half-elf curiously. “Who are you?” She asked.

“My name is Abigail, milady. The master sent me to help you get dressed and make sure you come see him.” The small woman piped up in a small soft voice.  Abigail was petite and quite short, probably about an inch or two shorter than Tav was, though the druid estimated the half elf was probably around the same age as she was…well physically anyway. With elves you could really never tell. 

“And exactly where am I?” Tav crossed her arms. 

“The Crimson palace milady. My lord has taken up residence here while he stays in your realm.” Abigail replied before scurrying across the room, towards a closet. “It'd be best not to keep him waiting, my lady.” The half-elf rummaged around through the closet before taking a couple of different outfits to choose from and spreading them out over the bed. “My apologies if you'd prefer a dress, but this is all we could bring with us from our world.” 

Tav blushed a bit in embarrassment as she realized she was still only wearing a tank and boxers. She looked over at the bed and took note of the three suits that laid out in front of her. 

“These belonged to Master Tav. Master Astarion said they'd likely fit you, my lady.” 

“Now hold on, I have questions! How did you all get here, and what is this thing!?” Tav demanded as she tugged on her collar once again.

“I'm sorry I can say no more. Please miss, just get dressed.” Abigail pleaded,a hint of fear was in her tone. Tav was hesitant, but begrudgingly she slipped off her tank before sliding into one of the suits, a red one that felt a little snug on her, but actually not by much. The only issue being that she couldn't get the top three buttons of the white undershirt that went with it to button.  It left her cleavage slightly exposed. Her eyebrow twitched in annoyance.

“Okay, I'm ready.” She said, Abigail nodded and began to lead the druid out of the room. 

Perhaps this was her chance? She could make a break for it on their way out! Tav braced herself to bolt only to be met with a shockingly familiar face as she exited the room. Lae'zel.  Or well a vampire spawn that looked completely identical to her githyanki companion aside from a pair of glowing red. 

“Dear gods, Lae'zel, what happened to you? Did Astarion do this?” Tav gasped in shock. 

 “She's not your Lae'zel, milady.” Abigail spoke up.

“I was told to make sure the master’s new pet came quietly, not to answer questions.” Lae’zel simply replied.

“Come on, let's go.” Abigail took hold of Tav’s arm, giving her a gentle smile before tugging her along. Lae'zel quietly followed, a seemingly permanent scowl on her face as she watched Tav's every move, almost daring her to run for it.

The three walked down a long corridor for what seemed like hours. The sound of footsteps along with her own heartbeat seemed to be the only thing Tav could process as a gnawing anxiety set in. Her chest tightened, her throat felt dry and she could feel this nervous pain dancing across her spine. She wasn't sure why but something about this other Astarion scared her. This Vampire Ascendant.  She had never been afraid of her beloved spawn, hells she wasn't even afraid of Cazador or any other vampire she had come across on their journey, but something about her lover's counterpart made her skin crawl. 

“Well aren't you just precious?” A seductive pur tore Tav from her thoughts, forcing her to look up and realize she'd been dragged out into the ballroom. It definitely was a lot cleaner than the past time she'd been here. All the blood and wolf corpses had been dealt with.  Just how long has this other Astarion been here?  He couldn't have just started squatting here, found and kidnapped Tav, and had time to clean everything up on the same day!  The Vampire Ascendant sat upon Cazador’s old throne, looking down at Tav. His eyes trailing over her.

Tav took a deep breath before clearing her throat and trying to appear confident.

“Where is Astarion? And I mean my Astarion.” 

“You needn’t concern yourself with him any longer. You're mine now and I will give you so much more than he ever could.~” The Vampire Lord stood up and stepped towards Tav slowly. 

“I’m not your Tav. I can never be him.” The druid backed up a little, however with Lae’zel’s presence behind her she didn't have much room to retreat. She wasn't sure if reasoning with this alternate version of her lover was possible, but it was worth a shot if nothing else. However instead of listening he swiftly took her hands in his. 

“No need to be modest, my pet, you're practically like him in every way. You have his eyes, his face, the same little quirks and ticks. Granted, you're built a little different anatomically, but that's not something that ever deterred me.” Astarion moved in closer, briefly pressing his lips against her knuckles. “And now that I've found you, nothing will ever part us. Not again.” Before Tav could speak she was pulled in for another tight hug. She squirmed a bit, conflicted feelings of pity and fear were arguing back and forth in her mind as she felt him nuzzling his face into her neck. He was clearly dangerous, but he also seemed heartbroken.  He wanted anyway to have his lover back so badly he crossed time itself to see them again. Or at least someone who resembled them. 

But Tav knew deep down she wouldn't be enough to fill the void left by her counterpart. Gods, she hoped there would be a happy ending to all of this.

~•~•~•~•~•~

A little note from ChaoticDruid: I really hope it didn't suck! I haven't published a fanfic in so long >~<  This idea had just been swimming around in my brain forever I just had to get it out!  I got the idea from the PS5 launch party animation and seeing Launch Astarion and EA Astarion flirting just made me go okay but what if it was Ascended Astarion and Spawn Astarion?

I don't know if I will continue it. I have other things I wanna write and my ADD makes this stuff so freaking hard. But maybe maybe not 🤞🤞 

Part 2: LETS GOOOOOOO

[demigoddessqueens]

help you relax

A part 1 of giving a massage/fluff series

found on MASTERLIST 10

Gale

He lets out small moans of relief as you work along his shoulders and back, getting all the knots out

Wyll

Likes to pepper hand kisses along you when you massage his shoulders, back, horns

Halsin

Low grunts and sighs of relief and adoration as your hands wander along those massive shoulder and back muscles

Shadowheart

She really likes them! Like so much so if she’s feeling a bit “neglected” she’ll move between your arms for attention

Karlach

So vocal!! Post-touch, she’s all down for them and runs hot when you get the knots out of her shoulders

Lae’zel

It’s a slow and steady process, but the warrior soon melts into your gentle touch and massages sometimes go on for hours if she wants

Astarion

Offers commentary when you massage him, as in “lower darling, oh! right there—perfect!”

Obliges to give you a massage back

Zevlor

Is so flattered that you would volunteer, and has a load of compliments to release about your “magic” hands

Dammon

Cannot hide his blush as you massage him, thinking he’s taking too much of your time despite your insistence he needs a break from smith work

Rolan

He will try to protest and argue but ultimately gives in to your touch

You hear a few low purrs of relief when you with the knots out

[waterdeepweave]

his velvet nightshirt (18+) - gale x reader

Turns out Gale just doesn't really like to get naked. He's very here for sex. Just... not naked. (prompt)

Tags: gale x gender neutral tav (no explicit genital description), second person pov, clothed sex, dry humping, hand jobs (male receiving), communicative sex, constant checking ins, fluff and smut

read here on ao3, or under the cut:

As much as the two of you vowed to find more time alone, the adventuring road left little room for more things than short, quiet moments. Even the nights crept up on the two of you in equal measure, desire washed away by the heaviness of sleep, spent in each other’s arms. 

It wasn’t until the road led to Balder’s Gate that you found yourself in the presence of a reprieve – and, mercifully, a private room at the Elfsong Tavern. 

You spend the first part of the night in polite company with each other, an unspoken agreement to let the anticipation build. Or perhaps to warm yourselves up, acclimate to the mood of indulgence – something neither of you had entertained since long before the nautiloid. Gale sits on a padded sofa by the fireplace, nose-deep in a book, and you curl up beside him, feet on his lap, reading from the same book once in a while. But for the most part, you admire him – his features lit in the glow of the fire, a flickering orange fleck in the endlessness of his brown eyes, deep pools of warm chocolate. The way his fingers glide over the page before he turns it – a flick so gentle you can almost feel it on your own skin. 

His chuckle rumbles against your face, and you sit a little straighter, reading from over his shoulder. You frown, confused as to what could possibly be so amusing about the ethics of necromancy. The words swim before you, melting into the glow of the fire, and you find another warmth growing in the core of your belly. You crane your head and press a kiss into the crook of Gale’s neck. 

“Hmm? Mmm.” Gale lets out something between a query and a sigh of contentment, his right arm leaving the book to wrap around your waist, nudging you closer to him. His left hand – and his attention – remain on the book.

Not for long, though. Not if you had your way. 

You nuzzle his neck, your face rubbing between the soft velvet of his tunic and the warmth of his skin. Your cheek grazes against his beard and you nudge deeper, alternating between kisses and nuzzles. Your hand travels across the expanse of his shirt, plush fabric beneath your touch, his heartbeat pulsing strong underneath. Your hand rests on a pec and you give it a gentle squeeze. 

That catches his attention – his heartbeat quickens underneath you, and shadows flutter in the periphery of your vision as he sets down the book, clearing his throat.

“Well. What do we have here?” His voice is sticky with growing lust as he shuffles you so that you are straddling his lap, kneeling on the seat. “There we go. Hello, my love.” Gale leans forward to greet you with a kiss, but you keep your face aloof, ever so slightly out of reach. You feel his grip on your waist tighten with frustration, and you grin, diving into his neck to lavish it with more kisses. You run your tongue along his jawline, fascinated by the texture of his beard. A soft moan escapes his lips, even as he turns his head instinctively, inviting you to taste him, to mark him all over. His hands begin to slide up and down your back, nails ghosting down your skin through the fabric, and your thighs bear down on his as you arch your back against his touch. 

“Mm - ah, fuck,” Gale manages as you grab a fistful of his hair, greasy with the lack of wash and whatever product he slicks into it to keep it back. It feels luscious in your hands, as does the rest of him when you tug gently, sending him rising into you. “Please,” he groans, a hand rising to catch your cheek, bringing your face to his. His eyes were dark, oozing pools of desire, pleading, adoring, all at once. “Kiss me.” 

He would make fun of you, after the fact, for how easily you folded at once, melted into his touch, letting him pull your lips to his, letting him capture you, taste you, have you. With a grunt, and a hand on each side of your ass, he pulls you toward him as your lips stay interlocked. You gasp a little in his mouth as you feel his growing bulge pressed right against you, so close to where you want it, and your hip jerks, desperate for the friction, desperate for his warmth. He chuckles at your wanton display and presses his hips upward into you, even as he holds you down with either hand.

It’s growing too much for you to bear.

Your hand slips under his shirt and you gather the hem in a fist, preparing to hoist the whole thing over him. Gale stops in his tracks, and a hand flies to catch yours. Your gaze flickers to his, and you unclasp his shirt. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know how to say this,” he begins. From the way he trips over his words, you can tell he is nervous. You slip off his lap and sit next to him, a tentative hand resting on his thigh. He reaches for it immediately, interlacing it in his own.

“You do recall the last time we shared a night. It was… well, it transcended the body. So to speak.” You nod, remembering the feeling of sailing across stars, of being caught in his arms, and then another pair of arms, and then another. Weightless. Glowing, but not warm. A breath of cold air, so refreshing, but almost… clean. 

“Such was the way I’d laid with another for many years in my life. Mystra, as you know. Then you. I realise now I had led you to it without asking for your preference, and for that I apologise. I was… eager to perform, and the familiarity gave me my best chance.

“My point is, it’s been quite a while since I’ve slept with someone on the… well, mortal plane, shall we say. Body to body. And that’s not saying I don’t want to – you, my love, are exquisite. However –” He clears his throat, somewhat in shame. “For the first time in a long time, of sorts, I’m suddenly finding myself rather… well, shy.” 

“Gale, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You know I am equally satisfied to simply share space with you,” you say quickly, searching his gaze. 

“Oh, no, it’s not quite that. I do want to have sex. Rather badly, if… well, if this is to be believed.” He gestures to his erection straining against his trousers, moisture weeping through the outline of his head. Your lips part at the sight, your breath catching in your throat, and it takes all of your concentration to focus on him, and what he has to say. 

“What I’m saying is… for tonight, at least, I would prefer to leave my clothes on. If that’s alright with you. And before you take it personally, I would have you know I make Tara leave the room before I undress, back in Waterdeep.” 

“Of course.” You reach up to kiss him on the cheek as you squeeze his hand. 

“And for whatever it’s worth, you are more than welcome to take your clothes off. I think I would rather enjoy the sight, actually.” 

“Is that so?” You flutter your eyelids at him, a look you know he cannot resist. “I may need some help with that.” 

“Come here,” he growls, a dark glint of mischief in his eye as he pulls you onto his lap once more. His fingers tangle eagerly into your shirt and he slides it off hungrily, your undergarments joining it on the floor with due haste. His thumb flicks over your nipple, hard and sensitive, and as you arch into his touch you find his thumb quickly replaced with his tongue. You moan, your hands curling around his face as his hand moves to pinch your other nipple. The sensation shoots from your chest across your body like sparks of lightning, and your hands glide down his neck. 

But then you find yourself faltering, pausing at his collarbones, half-obscured by his shirt. Gale notices you hesitate and resurfaces, his eyes meeting yours. “What’s wrong, love?”

“I’m… I’m not sure how to proceed,” you admit, a finger tracing the embroidery along the collar of his tunic. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“I see.” Gale takes your hand. 

“First of all, thank you. For this. For being so endlessly patient. I cannot overstate how much that means to me.” He presses a long kiss into your hand. “Shall I?” You nod.

“Guide me, Gale.” 

With a soft moan, he guides your hand to his waist and slides it under his shirt, leading your palm up his torso, over the soft fold of his belly, and onto his chest. His shirt rides up as he does, exposing his skin to the air, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He drags your hand across his chest, gasping softly as your skin grazes against his pert nipples, and back again, the friction so delicious. 

Understanding, you match his rhythm on your own, your fingers awakening to massage his pec, your thumb ghosting over his sensitive nipple. He rises against you, so responsive to your touch. Sandwiched between his tunic and his warm body, you press your forehead against his, letting your other hand slide under his shirt, toying with both his nipples at once. He groans at the sensation, throwing his head back.

“Fuck, I may come from this alone,” he rasps, his hand moving to cup the back of your neck. “You drive me insane, love.” 

You dip your head with a smirk, deciding to nibble his chest through the fabric of his shirt. As your velvet-lined lips graze a particularly sensitive area he groans again, his hips thrusting up into you, his desire meeting yours. His heartbeat pulses through the fabric, and down where you are wet and wanting, swollen and sensitive, you feel it all the more. 

“Fuck.” You grind down against him, holding onto his chest, the canvas of your trousers offering some form of friction – new to you, but somehow equally enjoyable, if not more. You rock your hips harder, chasing the feeling. “Fuck, Gale.” 

“Fuck, say that again.” Gale slips a hand between your legs and begins to palm his bulge through his trousers. His body – and yours on his – sink even deeper into the sofa. “Say my name. Show me how much you want me.” 

“Gale.” You gasp as you rock against his hand, feeling yourself grow closer with every motion.

“Gods above. Come here.” Gale grasps your hand and shakily brings you into his breeches, past his undergarments. “Please,” he whispers, and it is all you need to hear. Your fingers curl around his shaft, and as soon as it does he moans, his grip on you tightening. You stroke down his length and back up, your thumb swirling around his throbbing head, smearing precum all over. His hand reaches for your chest again, and you welcome his touch with a sigh. 

“Gods, you are magnificent,” he groans as you continue to stroke his cock, slowing your pace and squeezing just a little tighter every time you reach the tip, and releasing it with a languid motion down his shaft once more. “And incredibly frustrating,” he adds with a half-mustered frown, even as the rest of him quivers at your touch. 

You move your hand faster, and with a groan he thrusts up into your grip, shifting his trousers lower. He repeats the motion again, and again, until he finally nudges his cock free of his breeches, leaving it at the mercy of your touch alone. Encouraged, you quicken your pace, panting into the crook of his neck as your hand worked, feeling his chest rise and fall in quick succession as he thrust unevenly under you, too lost in ecstasy to keep time or tempo. 

“I’m close,” he gasps, catching your hand over his cock. “Fuck, come here, grind against me.” He guides you over his bare cock, and you drag yourself against him, experimentally at first. 

“Gods, your breeches… they feel wonderful. And damp.” He rubs two fingers down between your legs, and you flush at the knowing gaze he gives you, smug and heavy with lust. “Is that how I make you feel, my love?” 

“Yes,” you breathe, rocking into his beckoning fingers. Gale removes his hand, relishing your whine, and replaces you over his cock. “Show me,” he growls into your neck as you wrap your arms around his’. 

With a strangled moan, you bear down upon him, thrusting with abandon, chasing the friction of fabric sandwiched between throbbing, sensitive flesh. He groans at the sensation, drawing you closer, his hips twitching wildly underneath yours. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, fuck, I’m going to -”

Your own pleasure builds as you move even faster, clenching fistfuls of his shirt for leverage, your forehead pressed against his. 

“Do it,” you gasp, a finger tracing down his jawline. 

“Come for me, Gale.” 

With a cry and a final thrust, he spills all over his shirt, crying your name as he does. Pearlescent streaks litter his purple shirt as he rides out the waves of his pleasure, his hips jerking wildly. 

His desperate rocking against you is too much to bear, and you find yourself unravelling not long after, his name spilling from your lips as you come, wrapped firmly in his embrace, muffling your moans in his chest as you sink into him, gasping for breath, utterly spent.

“Oh, gods. Gods.” He chuckles softly, one hand holding onto you, the other tugging at his shirt, examining the sticky streaks on top of it. “I suppose I’ll have to give it a wash.” You laugh softly, nuzzling deeper into his chest, feeling his racing heartbeat. He nudges you off gently. 

“One moment, love. Don’t want to get your face all sticky.” He pulls the shirt over his chest and lets it flutter to the floor before dragging you back on top of him. “There we go. Much better.” You hum in agreement – his chest made for an excellent pillow, and you weren’t one to complain for the warmth of his bare skin. Your hand curls into a fist in the centre of his orb tattoo, and he places a hand over yours. 

“Did you enjoy yourself, love?” His free hand strokes your hair, and you nod, sleepy and sated, growing more so by the minute. 

“I wanted to thank you again,” he murmurs. “For your understanding. And your patience. I felt utterly safe with you. Something I haven’t felt in a long time.”

“Funny you should say that,” you mumble against his skin. “I feel utterly safe, wrapped up in your arms right now.” 

“An equal exchange, then.” 

Gale wraps both arms around you, holding you closer to him. You have a feeling he would never let go. 

He doesn’t, until the dawn comes.

[randomfanner]

Gale spoils you so much once you get married. He always comes home with flowers, colognes/perfumes, chocolates, clothes, jewelry, magic items/trinkets and books. He brings you so many books like he does not have enough for you to read already in his tower.

Gale always tries to be the one who cooks even when he is tired. You may have to force him to go sit down so you can cook for him instead but he will insist he can handle it!

The crockpot becomes his favorite thing in the world because he can just put things in during the morning and then he comes home and it is ready!

[taytrashmouth]

Peeta mellark x reader

(The hunger games)

Remember requests are open so please send them in!!!!

It was a quiet day in district 12. And everything would’ve been at peace if it weren’t the last day of the games. That Peeta was still in.

You told gale to call you when it was only down to a few tributes, you couldn’t watch Peeta and Katniss. Not after the way he left.

“Peeta Mellark.” Effie trinket read with a smile, your heart dropped as you watched him ascend the stage. Your throat ran dry and you couldn’t speak, you wanted to call for him but no words came out. Tears streamed down your face as you made your way to the empty aisle where Katniss has volunteered for her sister.

He looked down at me, but not for long. He couldn’t seem to bare it. A part of me knew he wouldn’t come home- I had seen the way those other tributes played.

I stood there until a peace keeper hit me across the cheek and shoved me back into place, I saw Peeta lunge forward but a peace keeper held him too.

When I was allowed to say goodbye I entered the small room after his family has left.

I hugged him tightly and he returned the gesture. “Peeta you have to survive.” You spoke firmly holding his face.

He started to object but you interrupted. “Promise me you’ll try to win!”

“I promise.” He was being genuine.

His hand brushed hair behind your ear and lingered on your cheek.

“You know- since you stood up for me against those boys when we were 12, I’ve never admired someone so much.”

You smiled whilst your cheeks turned red, you didn’t look away though, you couldn’t. This could be the last time you see him.

“You are so smart, and shy but you stand up for what you believe in, even when that means putting yourself out there. You’re funny and creative. I’ve never met someone who loves bread as much as you and-“ Peeta was rambling.

“Peeta..” you tried to question where he was leading in you Mr final moments.

“You’re beautiful n/n…and I guess all I’m trying to say is that I love you.” He looked nervously at your expression. “I have since the day I met you.”

“Peeta I- I love you too.” You smiled and cried at the same time.

“I wish I told you sooner.” He cried too.

“Yeah, me too.” He hugged you tightly.

As you both pulled out of the hug, with tear stained faces. You were leaning into each others touch. Lips barely grazing before two peace keepers were ripping you away. You screamed as they pulled you away.

“You’ll kiss me when you come home!” You yelled as they picked you up.

A boy from the mines ran out of the local bar to inform me that gale was calling. When I saw gale he couldn’t look away.

Peeta and Katniss were being hunted by some rabid hybrid.

You couldn’t watch for a while, until Cato found them and the stakes became a lot higher. You watched Peetas head almost become a meal and watched as he was held at gunpoint. You held gales hand in support as he did yours.

You hid your face in your other hand often.

When the last canon had fired you let out a breath you weren’t aware you were holding in.

“They won.” You smiled at gale.

Just as they announced 2 tributes from the same district can no longer win.

You began to cry. And then harder when Katniss handed Peeta those stupid berries.

You dropped gales hand and ran out of the bar. You couldn’t watch him die. You wouldn’t. You ran deep into the meadow and fell to your knees. You screamed. You were angry at the capitol, angry that you didn’t have more time with Peeta. You had lost the best thing in your life.

You stayed there for hours, crying and remembering.

You stayed out there in the meadow for a day or two. Sleeping under the trees. Forgetting about food or water.

When you finally went home in that third day you took a cold shower, wishing you had gone in his place.

In the early evening there was a knock on your door. You swung the door open expecting to tell whoever it was to come back some other day.

But when you saw the boy you longed for you began to sob. He grabbed you tightly, hugging you with everything he had.

“I thought you were dead-“ you sobbed into his shoulder. “I’m here now it’s okay.” He whispered into your ear and stroked your hair.

When you had both calmed down, he lead you to the river. Not many people knew about it.

And there it was, a picnic blanket with 3 types of bread in a basket accompanied by some fancy drink from the capitol.

“Peeta.” You smiled becoming all giddy. Running down to the blanket, Peeta followed with a smile, knowing he had made you happy.

“You like it?” He asked sitting down.

“It’s perfect.” You blushed, and ripped a piece of the soft bread loaf. “Mmmm… oh my god I missed this. There is no good bread in the world without you Mr Mellark.” you smiled. 

“It was all an act…” he spoke up. He looked scared. “Me and her.”

You smiled sadly to yourself.

“It wasn’t real?” You asked him genuinely to assure yourself, letting your insecurities get the better of you.

“Promise.” He whispered.

“Then you owe me a kiss, Mr-“ you were interrupted when he pulled you in and kissed you passionately. You squealed as he flipped you into your back, leaning over you into the kiss.

When he pulled away from air you giggled. “I’m really glad I’m home.” He smiled. You laughed again.

“Me too…”

You spent the rest of the evening holding each other, kissing and talking about all the times you missed each other over the past month.

“You are beautiful you know that.” He smiled, holding you in his lap looking at the water.

“You’re really pretty yourself…lover boy.” You teased tilting your head back and looking up at him.

“I hate that!” He cringed.

“Okay okay, I’ll stop.” You turned around to face him. “Lover boy.” You repeated and immediately screamed and ran away. He was hot on your trail. Smiling and chasing you.

When he caught you he spun you around smothering you in kisses, carrying you back with your legs dangling. Both laughing and smiling.

[avonne-writes]

https://www.tumblr.com/avonne-writes/757613623658102784?source=share

Hello! Love the list :) so many good ones. But how about either 6 for the angst, or 13 for the (potential) fluff? Whatever you prefer!

Thank you for the prompt! 💖 This will be a HS AU drabble, set on the night of their prom. Just some simple fluff.

13. Drunken/drugged/sleepy confessions

Gale drifts on the gentle currents of sleep, giving in to the heavy weight dragging his eyelids closed. Long arms hold him warm and safe, and Bucky's chest rises and falls under his head like waves of the sea. It’s easy to imagine that Gale’s floating, rocked asleep by water - he certainly feels light enough for it.

Bucky brushes the back of his knuckles over Gale’s cheek. "What a night, huh?"

Gale hums. He knows he doesn’t have to add anything more to the conversation - Bucky can tell from the tone of his hums what they’re meant to say. They had their senior prom tonight, their last school dance. It’s hard to believe. Four years have gone by in the blink of an eye. But at the same time, Gale feels so... old. So sober, looking at the layers of naivety growing up scrubbed off him. He feels like an adult, but also not at the same time, and he doesn’t know what to do with that thought.

For now, he’ll just let himself bask in the afterwaves of the evening. In the new memories - the fun they had at the dance, then all the celebration that followed in Bucky's bed. Warmth pools in his chest and stomach when he thinks about it.

"I had the most gorgeous arm candy in the whole room." Bucky teases, running his fingers over the parts of Gale's arm that Gale's pj shirt doesn’t cover. "I wonder how our photos are gonna come out."

Here, the sound Gale makes is more of a groan, and it pulls a rumbling laugh out of Bucky. "Mom's gonna frame one for sure."

When Gale just continues dozing peacefully, he adds, "Maybe I will too." He thumbs at the inside of Gale's elbow, his voice as whimsical as it usually is when he's happy.

"You’re sleeping on the couch then." Gale mutters.

"Why?" Bucky laughs, then clicks his tongue. "We don’t even have a couch yet, and you're kicking me out of our bed."

Gale shifts to lie on his back, his head pillowed on Bucky’s arm. Under the blanket, he tangles his feet with Bucky’s. "We don’t have a bed either."

Predictably, Bucky rolls after him, draping himself over Gale with his elbows propped up on either side of Gale's head. Although Gale doesn’t open his eyes, he can’t help but smile in anticipation of the kisses that Bucky peppers all over his face a second later.

"We gotta look for a mattress together." Bucky mumbles against his cheek as Gale's hands slip under his shirt to stroke his back. "Something nice and bouncy."

Gale cracks his eyes open and raises a playful eyebrow. The shit-eating grin he expects appears on Bucky’s face without delay. Bouncy. Right.

Truth is, the idea that they're going to buy things specifically for the two of them makes his stomach flutter. They're going to have their own space, their own bedroom. Privacy. Anything they want to do, anytime they want. No one to judge them, no one they'd bother. The promise of that kind of freedom feels intoxicating already.

Bucky tucks his face into the crook of Gale's neck and sighs in contentment. "Tell me a secret."

Gale's fingertips settle in the valley of Bucky's spine. "You know all my secrets."

"Come on, everyone has secrets."

"Yeah? Tell me one then."

Silence reigns while Bucky thinks it over. "Curt and Kenny are back together again. I saw them making out in the bathroom tonight."

Gale snorts. "That’s gossip, not a secret."

Bucky shifts on top of him, fidgety. It’s obvious to Gale that his thoughts are running wild again, but Gale doesn’t acknowledge it. He's too sleepy. He could drift off like this, with his boyfriend's weight on top of him. Wouldn’t it be nice? He sighs and leans his head against Bucky's.

He waits patiently, and it pays off as usual. A moment later, Bucky opens his mouth again. "I'm so sleepy."

That's not a secret either, Gale wants to poke at Bucky, but he just yawns and hums again.

"But I keep thinking of you in that tux."

Gale bites his lip. Considers it. He almost tells Bucky that he’s on board if he doesn’t have to move too much, but Bucky continues before he could say it.

"While we were dancing tonight, I kind of imagined it was our wedding." Bucky kisses his neck. "Didn't wanna tell you, but you got it out of me."

Gale grins at the ceiling. Secrets don’t remain secrets too long when Bucky has to keep them from him. "Didn't take much, did it?"

Bucky laughs and kisses him on the lips. When he pulls back, Gale cups his face. "Guess I owe you a confession now."

Even in the dim light, he can see the corners of Bucky’s eyes crinkle. "Guess you do."

Gale combs his fingers through Bucky's curls. "What if I told you I imagined the same?"

Bucky's exhale rushes out of him in surprise, but he recovers quickly with a smirk. "Well, I imagined our wedding night too."

Gale snorts a laugh.

[druizard]

For the Gale one shot prompts. Based on the epilogue about Gale being rather busy with his teaching and being equally married to it and Tav. Either fluff or spicy Gale taking time to makeup for being absent for a while with his teaching?

This one got away from me a little bit x3. Thank you for the prompt!!

Late Again

Gale/Reader One Shot

Author: Charlee Monstah [Druizard]

Rating: general/sfw

Words: 2,458

Read on AO3!

Excerpt:

The rain makes such a peaceful sound on the balcony awning above where you and Tara are resting. You've come to love your new home in Waterdeep, and you new tressym friend. Curled up on your stomach as you lay across the bench, Tara sighs heavily, her ears pinned back in discontent.

“What's wrong, Tara?” You ask, scratching her behind the ear, “Have you had enough of the rain?”

“No, my dear,” she says, rising to her paws and stretching out her spine. “When Mr. Dekarios informed me you would be moving in with us, I had worried about having to share him with you… now I never see him because of his work.”

You frown, sharing her pain. Ever since Gale took his job at Blackstaff, he really hadn't been spending much time at home. When he did, he was lost in paperwork or sleeping. “I know,” you sigh, petting her gently, “I wish he wasn't so busy. I miss him too. Maybe almost as much as you do, Tara.” You offer the creature a soft smile and she nuzzles her head against your chin before padding off somewhere inside Gale's tower.

Continue reading on AO3!