#lae'zel x fem reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fabric-shower-curtain · 3 months

Text

By complete accident I somehow have the autopsy scar mod on top of the bhaalist tattoo mod, don’t ask me how they’re both on my durge I have no idea how it happened. But it got me thinking how would the origin characters (+halsin) react/barely react to a lover that is heavily scarred and tattooed? (Set in Act 1)

Read more for the full brainrot

Astarion: The first time Astarion saw your body for himself was when he walked past your tent late at night, through the flaps in the entrance he saw all those scars, he couldn’t tell what had you awake this late in the night, especially mostly naked with your back turned. The vampire simply continued on his way to hunt for the night. He dropped it there, until that is, the second night in the clearing you two spent together. He was lying down leaning his head against his arms as his red eyes stared at your naked body. His eyes flowed down every scar that littered your body, he barely seemed to look at the tattoos but that’s what he asked about first “So, can you translate that one?” - he points to the tattoo across your left arm, lifting up the limb you pull your skin to take a proper look at it. It’s been a while since you properly saw it, because just out of sight enough to make it annoying to stare at. When you tell him Astarion seems content with the information. His fingers drift across the tattoo. It’s a tender moment until the elf’s hand floats toward your neck. His ice cold fingers dancing across the lingering puncture wounds on your neck - “But these are by far my favorite mark on you,” You lean into Astarion’s touch releasing a chuckling sigh before calling him the weirdest flirt you have ever seen.

Gale: He really didn’t mean to go to the river at the same time he truly meant to go two hours early when he said he would, but that tome was particularly interesting - the effects of adrenaline on libido, certainly important for a man so restricted by his netherese orb. But now it was two hours past and he definitely had a musk going on. Taking an extra robe and rag Gale went to the nearby river, only you were there too. Illuminated in moonlight you were bare in front of him. Gale cleared his throat loudly, trying to let you know he was there. What he did not expect was for you to whip around and get out of the water to say hello. He tried his best to only look at your face, he did not succeed. Your skin was glowing with a vei of water cascading down in droplets. Gale’s eyes followed one droplet from your hair, down your neck, across your chest until a certain tattoo caught his eye, infernal script. Trying to keep his focus on the tattoo rather than the flesh its on he asked you if it meant what he thought it did. He was right in fact, and you told him the story behind why you got it, quite the nice tale. The wizard relaxed enough to notice another scar across your soldier “Is that from a magic missile?” He asked without thinking. Nodding in confirmation you turned to show your shoulder blade where the other two missiles struck. As you turned around the coldness of the night hit you like a thunder wave, a massive shiver shook your entire body spraying tiny water droplets around. “Gosh you must be freezing,” - Gale wrapped you in his towel-rag before stressfully ushering you back towards the camp. Once you got back to your tent you realized you left your towel and clothes on a nearby rock, you could return the peeping Tom favor.

Halsin: Halsin adores you long before he ever saw your birthday suit, sure he thought about it, quite a lot, but with his focus deep on the shadow-curse he doesn’t have time to do much other than think about out. But the first time he does see you was far from romantic or sensual. A hook horror had slashed your entire back open when you got to close, and Halsin watched it all happen. Before the beast even hit the ground he was rushing over to you, he didn’t think, he just ripped your armor right off of you to get to the wound. You might have been screaming but his ears were ringing too loud to tell one noise from another. Halsin couldn’t even see where scar ended and fresh cut began, your tattoos were doused in enough blood to make them impossible to see against your skin. The bear of an elf’s hand floated above the wound with the same glowing blue light the hook horror’s body was basking in, thank silvanus he was far enough from the sussur tree for his magic to work. Even with his healing a scar in the same place as the monster's claw marks stayed. Halsin’s druidic skills must be faltering, that’s what he determines at least. Until the next day, you’re healed fully up and about getting ready to leave camp for the day. Halsin calls out your name - “I’m sorry I could not heal you fully, I tried best I could but the scar persists” to his confusion you begin laughing. The scar he’s so upset about has been on you for so long now, and you tell him such. His healing left no scar, in fact he healed you so well an old scar was able to show.

Karlach: The first time she saw you naked you were bathing next to each other after a battle. Even with Dammon’s initial upgrade you can’t touch each other, but you swore to find ways to be intimate without touching, just like this. However you neglected to inform her about what lay under your clothes until now, scars covering you head to toe interlaced with tattoos of varying quality. “Hey Soldier! How come you didn’t tell me before stealing my aesthetic!” You didn’t even register this was the first time exposing yourself in such a way, a brief moment of panic before you burst into a smile. “Come here, let me see them” Karlach makes you twirl around, using the faintest touch of her fingers to pull your arms out and see the tattoos wrapping around them. Her eyes continued to trail down your body, after a gasp she jumped back up to your face - “That burn scar looks like mine!” She said before pulling down her trousers to show you the near identically placed scar on her thigh. But Karlach didn’t ask about the obviously fresher stab scars, she continued to smile at her new discovery but lets the two of you properly bathe for once.

Lae’zel: Even when pinning you against a wall the githyanki warrior wasn’t particularly gentle. It’s not like you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into tonight, she had said pretty explicitly she seemed carnal pleasure. Somehow Lae’zel was even more assertive in such a scenario than during your adventures. You couldn’t even take your own armor off, she practically ripped it off of you. Your body is exposed to her in an instant, she doesn’t react, her hands go immediately to unlace your trousers and undergarments. The night is enjoyable even as exhausting as it was. Only much later does Lae’zel ever comment on them, and its in a conversation praising you two’s battle prowess “Each scar is a battle fought, a battle won.” You try not to tell her you have at least two scars from dropping the knife while cooking with Gale. She’s sweet in her own way.

Shadowheart: Shadowheart first saw you naked while healing a particularly cruel wound, goblin had snuck up on you and slashed your torso deep. You stabilized yourself quick enough with a healing potion but the wound persisted. After the battle you wandered your way over to Shadowhearts tent, asking for help. She laid you down atop her bedroll, sliding your shirt off as you let yourself relax into the makeshift bed. And then you caught it, Shadowheart’s eyes widened, shit. But she didn’t say anything; she pressed her warm hands towards your open wound as they lit alight with magic. Radiating from your gash the warm feeling washed over you, your eyes closed softly breathing out in relief. Shadowheart quelled her magic, looking over you for a fat moment. You can feel her eyes wandering over you, up and down your chest, down your stomach and across both your arms. The relief of healing has left you now but you’re still too scared to open your eyes. And then a soft hand traced along your largest scar, her fingers were so light it tickled. “I like your tattoos.” The half-elf’s voice was soft, her eyes focused back on your large scar, “How’d you get that one.” Whether or not you tell the story she’s content, happy to have this extra piece of you in her memory.

Wyll: Poor Wyll just wanted to ask about the plans for tomorrow, but not only did he smack his horns on the skeleton of your tent while entering but you’re also as naked as the day you were born. The man nearly shrieked like he saw a ghost, his entire chest swelled up with his shoulders shooting up and he looked like he just swallowed a frog. Without a word Wyll turned on his heel and left your tent, only after trying to cool his blushing face off did he even process all your markings. Upon the log he sat on he dragged his hand up and down his face trying to process what the hells just happened. And then you exited your tent, completely decent this time. You greeted Wyll and sat beside him wondering what he had barged in about in the first place. But the poor man can’t even look at you. He as calmly as he could gave you the sincerest apology you’ve ever heard. After your acceptance he finally turns to you “So what does that tattoo across your back mean?” You pause for a moment, then explain as best you can. And that conversation continues just like that, he’d ask how you got a certain scar or tattoo and you’d answer him. In return he showed you one particularly nasty scar on his arm from a monster he fought while traversing the sword coast. What may have started as the most embarrassing moment of your partnership ended with you closer than before.

456 notes · View notes

liminal-space-lesbian · 3 months

Text

Bg3 Ladies needing comfort after a bad day

Request: So for the BG3 headcanon or blurb requests what about a little thingy where the Lady’s of the game have a bad day and need lots of comfort from their Tav. 🥺

A/n

Honestly idgaf if Lae’zel is ooc, my baby is secretly going soft. Sorry guys!! I believe she actually has feelings deep down <3 Also mild spoilers if you haven’t finished the Crèche questline

Also Karlach is so babygirl omg if someone doesn’t give her a hug rn I SWEARRRR

Karlach:

Karlach had spent the entire day fighting off various enemies, who were unfortunately harder to defeat than expected. And right as she’s settling down for the night, finally getting a reprieve from the day, Raphael shows up.

He’s yammering on about how he wants to strike up a deal with you, but you cannot send him away fast enough. Seeing a devil only dredges up bad memories for your lover, and you do not want her to have to relieve the memories of her torture in Avernus.

“Come here baby, it’s alright just try to relax.” You coax, seeing the tension in her body once Raphael leaves. You coo, gently taking her into your arms. Her head buried in your chest, strong arms wrapping around you tightly as you rub her shoulders and the back of her neck. You ease the tension out of her muscles, kissing the crown of her head.

She finally lets the tension leave her body as she breaks down into tears, quietly crying into the fabric of your shirt. Small sobs wrack her shoulders, sending an aching pain lancing through your heart. You can’t stand seeing her so upset.

“I fuckin’ hate demons. No good ever comes of ‘em. Promise me you’ll never even consider Raphael’s deal.” She pleads, and you’re quick to reassure her. “I promise, I’ll never make a deal with a devil. I love you too much to risk it.” You whisper into her hair as you place a gentle kiss on her temple.

You cuddle her to sleep, allowing her to wrap herself around you entirely. Lord knows a decade of not being able to touch anyone without scorching their skin off leaves a girl touch starved. You tuck her in as cozy as she can get, and pepper her face with gentle kisses as she drifts off. Your heart aches for the suffering your lover has endured, but all you can do is be here now to support her.

Shadowheart:

Shadowhearts wound on her hand had been flaring rather badly all day, and unfortunately you had to travel past an abandoned temple of Shar. All the memories- or lack thereof- cause Shadowheart’s mood to sour. She seems snappy and short tempered, but when you visit her tent later you see her curled into a ball and cradling her hand.

“Oh sweetheart.” You murmur, getting on your knees beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder. She sniffles, obviously trying to hide her tears. You shush her, gently lying behind her and wrapping your arms around her. She rolls over and cuddles into your chest, crying more freely now.

“Why did they have to take my memories? Sometimes I don’t even feel like I know myself.” She whimpers, and your heart shatters. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry.” You whisper, kissing her forehead and wiping away her tears. “I know you, and I love you.” You murmur, rubbing your hand soothingly up and down her back as she tucks her head into your neck. You spend the evening wiping away her tears and soothing her as best as you can.

Lae’zel:

Lae’zel doesn’t get upset, she gets angry. It’s how she was raised, channel every feeling into anger. Anger fuels strength, and only created a stronger more tenacious fighter. So when Lae’zel finds out the truth about Vlaakith, she’s angry. Enraged. Furious. Not hurt.

Lae’zel definitely doesn’t cry when she’s alone in her tent that night. She also definitely doesn’t crawl into your arms and bury her face in your shoulder. Your touch is the only balm to the aching in her chest.

“Tsk’va, look at me. So weakened by the betrayal of a false god.” Lae’zel grits out between tears, fists clenched firmly in your shirt. Her anger is directed at herself, as if it’s her fault she was fooled along with every other Gith.

“Darling, it’s not your fault. Vlaakith tricked everyone. I know her betrayal hurts, and you have a right to be upset. Im so sorry you have to deal with something like this.” You coo, kissing her forehead and wiping her tears. She scowls and pulls away from your touch, but only to roll over so she can be little spoon.

She doesn’t speak for the rest of the night, but you feel a bit of tension melt away from her muscles. The next morning she’ll wake as if nothing happened, but for now she burrows farther into your warmth, seeking your comfort.

Dame Aylin:

Aylin’s mood took a turn for the worse when she heard Raphael had proposed a deal to you at Sharess Caress. She had already spent the day overstimulated from the noise of Baldurs Gate, a stark contrast to a century in shadowfell, where the only sound was the wind and rumbling in the distance. Now that you told her this? She was pissed.

She stomped off to be alone, saying she just needed time to think. You could tell by the stiffness of her posture she was upset, more than just angry. You gave her some space, but when she finally returned to your tent to go to sleep, you confronted her.

“What’s wrong darling?” You coax, your expression soft as you open your arms for her. She hesitates, her pride and stoicism holding her back for a moment. Her hesitation is short lived however, as she heaves a sigh and flops into your arms.

“I’m just thinking of my time spent in shadowfell. Raphael is a devil, simply a reminder of the evils in this world.” She pauses, heaving an irritated sigh. “After being trapped in that soul cage for so long… sometimes it feels as though I’m still there. Not physically but… in my mind that place haunts me.” She admits quietly, and you think you hear her voice quiver.

“I’m sorry Aylin. You didn’t deserve that. If I could take away all your pain I would.” You murmur, hugging her a bit tighter as you look in her eyes. You see tears clinging to her lashes as she swallows thickly.

“I know you would. And I love you for it.” She whispers brokenly, nuzzling her head into your shoulder as she clings to you. She pulls away to place a deep kiss on your lips, reveling in the comfort of you.

“Try and rest Aylin, you need sleep.” You coax, easing her to lie back. She complies, allowing herself to get comfortable as she slips off to sleep. For the first time in weeks she doesn’t have a single nightmare.

Isobel Thorm:

Isobel was drained after narrowly escaping being kidnapped by Marcus. She pumped all of her magical abilities into the shield around the Last Light Inn, as well as blessing you and your companions to ward off the shadow curse.

You could see her bottom lip quiver as she climbed into bed, and she instantly cuddled into your side. You turned towards her, gently cupping her face in your hands.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask gently, and she simply shakes her head, blinking heavily as tears flow freely down her face. You brush the tears away with your thumbs, nodding as you kiss her forehead. You take her into your arms and let her cry it out.

You rub up and down her arms soothingly, allowing her the space to let out her feelings. Eventually her cries taper out, and soon enough she’s drifting off to sleep. You carefully make sure she’s tucked in perfectly before resuming your spot, cuddled up to her for the night.

A/n

If this is bad it’s bc I’ve been awake for 17 hours, sorry peeps 😔

#bg3 requests #bg3 #bg3 karlach #bg3 shadowheart #bg3 lae'zel #bg3 dame aylin #bg3 isobel #dame aylin x reader #isobel thorm x reader #isobel x reader #karlach x reader #shadowheart x reader #lae’zel x reader #fem reader #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending

187 notes · View notes

she-walks-on-starlight · 3 months

Text

Kiss of Death

a/n: This is Day 1! I will make a compilation of all these works at some point, watch this space - ✨

Pairing: Lae'zel x Fem!Reader

Prompt: Write about a first kiss

Warnings: swearing, blood, mild violence, mild threat, description of tasting blood.

Summary: Travelling with a stoic, broody Githyanki eliminates any chance of surprises... right?

Word Count: 997

The first time she kisses you, it takes you both by surprise. You were travelling the Risen Road, on your way to the Mountain Pass when you were cornered and set upon by a group of men and women demanding your valuables, and your lives.

The ensuing fight is a bloody one. Your attackers are well-armed and well-organised, a group of Zhentarim finally catching up with you, thirsting for revenge after finding you had not only killed one of theirs, Rugan, but also made off with the shipment he had been tasked with transporting. Turns out Zhentarim mercenaries hold one hell of a grudge.

Lae’zel welcomed the battle, unsheathing her gleaming greatsword with a piercing cry of “Htak'a!” and leapt into the fray, slashing, and stabbing in a deadly dance worthy of her heritage.

You were no stranger to a fight, not these days. Growing up on the streets of Baldur’s Gate had you learning to fight to survive before you even saw your tenth summer. You didn’t possess the same skill as Lae’zel but then few could match a Githyanki warrior trained in the ways of the blade practically from birth. You just thanked the Gods that she had chosen you as a worthy travelling companion, as she held a blatant disregard for most people she encountered.

You’re starting to tire, but you know you have to keep fighting. There’s no way you’re going down in a fight with these bastards, and you know Lae’zel will never forgive you if you give up. You’re distracted by your own thoughts, a fatal mistake. The brute nearest you sweeps both your legs and you end up on your back, your blade knocked a few feet away. Useless.

The man chuckles, his eyes bright with malicious glee, raising his marred greataxe over his head. “This is for Rugan!”

You summon the last of your strength, leaning up and driving your elbow into his groin. “Fuck you!”

The man doubles over in pain, grunting angrily. His eyes blaze and he lunges forward, clasping hold of your throat. “I’ll kill you with my bare hands if I have to, whelp!”

“Hta'zith!”

The man’s eyes widen, and you feel warm, thick blood on your face. The blood is not yours; it is leaking from the man now slumping as life drains from him. The sharp tip of Lae’zel’s sword protrudes proudly from his chest. She does not move to help you up, instead she turns away to survey the now bloody scene in front of her, riddled with the fallen.

Jumping up, you dust yourself off, angling yourself away from Lae’zel as you surreptitiously check yourself for wounds. You discover a long, thin cut on your forearm that will likely close on its own in a few days. A gash just under your ribs presents a more pressing issue, but it can wait until you find a somewhat decent healer. You glance to the side, watching curiously as Lae’zel cleans her sword of blood in one sweep of her gloved hand.

Sighing, you retrieve your sword and sheath it, raising your voice so she can hear you. “Thank you. For the save. I didn’t see him, stupid really…”

You don’t get to finish your sentence because without warning, Lae’zel is towering over you, her expression unreadable. You swallow, unable to find your words and apparently you don’t need them because she grasps your collar roughly and brings your mouth to hers.

Her grip is tight and unyielding as she presses you against her, the cold plate of her armour clinking against your fraying chain shirt. Her scent envelops your senses, a rich blend of sweat, musk, and blood. Her kiss is dominating, and her teeth are sharp, every now and then nipping at your bottom lip as she deepens the kiss to claim you entirely. Her tongue enters and you know it is futile to even attempt to take control, so you allow her to have you, a low moan tearing from your throat as your body awakens from her fierce kiss. All too soon, she pulls way from you and busies herself with checking the corpses for anything that can be sold or put to good use.

You blink rapidly. “Why did you do that?”

Lae’zel stares at you blankly. “I find your form pleasing, especially in the throes of battle.”

You gulp, feeling a blush creep up your neck and colouring your cheeks. “I was hardly any good back there. You had to save me.”

Lae’zel nods. “It is true, your stance should not be broken so easily. Your balance requires more training, and you must learn to grip your weapon in such a way that you wield it with more force and cannot have it wrested from you.”

You hang your head, but grin sheepishly. “Good job I have you around to teach me, huh?”

Lae’zel cocks her head to the side, analysing you. “I will gladly impart my wisdom for battle unto you.” She steps into your space again, gripping your chin and forcing you to meet her gaze. “But I would have you hold your head high.”

You wonder if she will kiss you again, taking the time to admire her eyes, green emeralds flecked with bronze and gold, a more precious sight than any petty gem. She considers you for only a moment more before she returns her attention to looting. You join her, still reeling from the kiss. Once you have swept the area, you nod to Lae’zel and continue towards the Mountain Pass. She shakes her head.

“No. We make for the Emerald Grove. You are in need of healing.”

You sputter in protest. “We need to reach your crèche!”

She silences you with a look, a devious look in her eye. “If you are to withstand my plans for you this night, you must be healed and ready.”

You gulp again, suddenly feeling very hot. “Well then…in that case, to the Emerald Grove!”

#my writing #fanfic #lesbian #lae'zel #lae'zel x reader #lae'zel x fem!reader #writing challenge #bg3 #bg3 lae'zel #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #first kiss #bg3 spoilers

29 notes · View notes

lynnlovesthestars · 8 months

Text

One and only.

Pairing: Astarion x fem!reader

Genre & warnings: smut and fluff, post act 3, soft Astarion, fingering, slight overstimulation and orgasm denial, unprotected sex, a lil of anxiety? and thinking but lots of love too, blood, biting.. I don't think there's more?

Words: 4.4k (damn i didn't think it was that long oof.

Healing is a slow process, but with you it's a little easier.

Astarion paced back and forth in front of the tent, weighing the words that were floating in his mind, the feeling that pooled in his stomach and shoved off the fear hidden in the back of his mind.

You were different because you cared about him. You reminded him every night before you'd close your eyes and fell asleep in his arms, and you respected him like none ever did. You reassured him whenever he'd ask you if you were still okay to wait for him until he was ready to try again with sex, and he was oh so grateful for it.

It's been around three years since you were free of the tadpole, you'd grown so much together: patching up each other's wounds while learning how to love. You taught him to be intimate without bedding you. You taught him how caresses could be so much more than sex.

He looked around the camp, you called your old companions for another adventure, helping you find a cure for vampirism, and they all eagerly accepted.

Aylin and Isobel were the only ones missing, literally.

You found a nice spot in the underdark, glowing mushrooms of pretty colors decorated all around you, and the circular cave was just perfect enough for the bunch of you.

You were fumbling around the fire, trying to roast a boar leg you got at a small merchant you found on the road.

Gale was trying to interfere with that boar leg cooking process, but you didn't want to hear him, especially after you had to live off his particularly unsavory stew for months, this time you were taking the metaphorical chef hat and feeding everyone with your newfound skills. Three years away from adventure had to be filled one way or another.

The camp was always lively, that's one of the perks of being so many.

Wyll was playing with Boo, while Minsc and Jaheira were playfully fighting over something dumb. Karlach and Halsin were fast asleep next to the fire, snoring loudly between Gale's words.

Lae'zel and Shadowheart were discussing as always and, though everyone was too distracted to hear him, Astarion was still mumbling to himself while pacing.

The dinner was great, you could see it in the eyes of everyone as they bit into the tender meat and shared stories. Minsc was deep into another tale of Boo, Jaheira and him as your eyes wandered to Astarion, which still hasn't had his dinner.

You couldn't see him, until you noticed that the oil lamp in your tent was on, and his shadow was fixing something around the tent. For what you knew he was moving the pillows scattered around, in a way that you'd be more comfortable while he fed.

They all knew at this point that you'd let him feed off you on daily basis, it started back while you were on your way to Baldur's Gate back then, and you took the habit so much that at a certain point you didn't even feel dizzy after he'd been done.

You excused yourself as you made your way to the tent, it was one of those nights where you needed an extra long hug, and a few kisses on the forehead.

When you opened the flap of the tent, he was still fighting with a pillow, trying to fluff it up just how he liked it, but failing. He was glad that he learned how to hide his emotions, shoving the tension down and away.

You kneeled next to him, placing a hand on his before taking the pillow from his grasp.

He followed your movements closely with his eyes, as you put the pillow on the floor.

He didn't know what he expected to see, but to watch you punch the pillow relentlessly, was definitely not on the list. Though after you were done, the pillow was somehow perfect. Was that how his pillow was always extra fluffy?

You gave him a soft smile before you tossed it next to the others, which you noticed were arranged differently, making something closer to a nest, than your usual layout.

You both didn't speak, you were so close that you'd know just by looking at your bodies, or the way your face crunched, and yours clearly said "cuddle".

In a matter of seconds, he pulled you in his arms before scooting closer to the pillows to rest there.

He loved the way you'd make yourself comfortable on his lap, how you wiggled for a moment before finding that nook where your head rested perfectly on his chest, and the way you would hum when you were happy with the position you chose.

He could live off just of that pretty sound that would come out of your lips.

You were so absorbed by the closeness that you didn't notice the barely perceptible hesitation in his touch, as he slowly turned your face to him, making sure you could hold eye contact for a moment.

The eagerness and the pure undevoted love were fighting with the fear, the fear of reliving those nights he tried so hard to forget, but at the end of the day, he needed you. He needed you more than he feared his nightmares, he needed to feel you around him, he needed to let you feel his love, his devotion, all of him.

If there was one person that he wanted to love so deeply, it was you.

So many times he thought of trying to have sex again just to see if he still was disgusted, but only with time he was able to realize that he wasn't disgusted by sex, he was disgusted of being stripped of his chance to back away. And the more he got to know you, the more he grew closer to you, the more he longed for you, in every way. It was no longer the need for release or just the fucking without attachments, he wanted to make love with you. He wanted to hear you moan his name like a chant, he wanted to feel your hands reach were no one was ever allowed to: tracing his back, on the dip of his lower back, around his hips, at the center of his chest, where his heart, your heart, resided.

There was no one else he desired like this, the idea of other people, or having other lovers but you, made him retch. He didn't want love unless it came from you, he didn't want sex unless it was you making him feel lightheaded. Of course it took him a lot of time to understand this, and a lot of work around his feelings, and his body, and you never shied away from any of his attempts to push his boundaries.

You helped him reshape the ideas of the smallest things, down to skinship.

Even after hours of brooding on how to ask you, he found himself speechless at the sight of your soft eyes filled with love, and the peaceful smile you gifted him. He was mesmerized.

It took him a second to just recollect, as he took his time ingraining in his mind that look he loved so much.

"My love" He whispered as he cupped your cheek, making you lean into his touch. "I've been thinking a lot" His thumb traced your cheekbone ever so slightly, drawing a delicate humm from you. He had planned a lot to say but as you leaned close, the speech was already out the window. So he just lowered you on the bed, and crashed his lips to yours.

It took you a second to process the unexpected movement, but a second later you were lost within his kiss.

Initially it was rough, the way he gripped on you, like an instinct that he could barely control, full of yearning and need, but slowly, the more you relaxed in his arms, savoring the taste of his kiss, the more he would slow down, like a love poem traced with his whole body.

His hands would graze over your hips, your shoulders, your neck, every bit of exposed skin was being caressed by his slender fingers, holding and molding your body like it was putty.

He rested his forehead against yours as he caught his breath, and allowed you as well. His eyes were closed as he was lost in your sweet scent.

It took him another long moment before being able to control his breath, regain his senses as his head was already spinning away.

"My love, allow me.." He breathed ooutsweetly as he latched his hand around yours, your fingers intertwining in his like an instinct. "Allow me to feel you." He placed a soft kiss on your cheek. "Allow me to make you mine" The words came out almost as a plea, like a starved man that was in front of a banquet and forced to resist the need. His lips traveled to your neck, resting where he'd usually drink from you.

"I'm already yours" You whimpered as you could feel his teeth graze, sending a shiver down your spine. You could feel the pit of your stomach bubbling with tenderness, as his eyes were rounder than usual, and his gaze was soft. Though there was a yearning feeling in the bottom, drowned momentarily by the adoration.

So many nights you had to leave the tent to take care of your needs, as you didn't want to burden Astarion with it. You wanted him to be fully there as he helped you release all that pent up tension, not just a shell of him. You craved his love, not his body.

You had to resist the very urge to push your hips against him, even though he was asking you already. You wanted to make sure he was truly okay before making any movement.

He groaned as he tilted your neck, pressing his lips right under your chin, and descending between your clavicle. He wanted to worship every millimeter of you, no skin would have to go unkissed.

"I want to make love to you, my one" He left a bite on your shoulder, no teeth were deep enough to draw blood, but definitely enough to steal a delicious mewl from you.

His words made your heart roar.

You raised your head enough to catch a glimpse of his eyes, now sultry, half closed as his lips still rested on your skin, dropping sweet kisses right where he was.

"Mh, you sure?" You asked as your body basked in the attention he was providing.

"Like I've never been before. I dreamt for so long to have you wrapped around me" He moved again, until your chests were against each other, and your noses were meeting. "I want no one else but you. I want to know what having the love of your life so close, so vulnerable feels like" He placed a quick kiss on your nose. "I just want to get lost in you, to hold you like I've never held anyone" his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tight to him, like he wanted to merge your bodies. "I want to be one with you" He whispered as he closed his eyes again, inhaling your flowery scent mixed with his.

Your heart was pounding so loudly against your rib cage that you would have sworn he could feel it without leaning in.

You wanted to sound louder, but as your lips opened to say that yes, the sound came in almost a strangle

by all your emotions.

Astarion's eyes glimmered with a light you've never seen before resting there.

He was gentle as he undressed you, every inch that was being revealed to his eyes, was met with his yearning lips, drawing all sorts of pleading sounds from you. Your body was already shaking like a lire string as it was touched, and your lips chanting a melody for him.

His descent was agonizingly slow, but what struck you was how his movements were.

You knew he was well versed in sex, but the way he was caressing, tracing, kissing, biting, was the one of a man that was trying to listen to your reactions, to savor the tiniest sensations, to learn his lover, such a difference from the confident man that fucked you senslessly in a forest three years prior.

It was no longer about repayment for the feed or protection, it was pure undevoted love in each touch.

Just with those miniscule attentions, your heart was swelling for him, and little did you know that he was hitting him as well, all your emotions flowing around you in the small space of the tent.

Your clothes were soon on the other side of the floor and you took your time admiring him in all his beauty: the way his chest was rising, the way his skin was covered in small old marks, so carefully healed that you wouldn't be able to discern them unless you would be trying to remember his every pore.

"Gods i wish you could see yourself through my eyes right now" He sighed. "I've seen you naked so many times, but right now? No goddess could compare next to you" He kissed your navel delicately as his fingers were grazing your thighs.

You could feel your cheeks igniting at the praise. You wished for a moment you still had that tadpole eating your brain, just for a second to show him the true vision. His body was so perfect in front of you, the truly breathtaking view. You could have sworn he would have made such a perfect painting.

Before you could open your mouth though, he was praising you again.

"No words would be enough for me to explain how every curve of your body makes me ache for you, my one" He leaned forward, placing wet kisses from your neck, down to your hips, over and over again until his name was a broken mewl from you lips.

He stopped between your thighs, taking his time to spread you wide open for him. He kissed that spot that caught his mind right away, that perfect dip of your hips, where stretch marks were concentrated.

He hummed as he couldn't help but graze them with his teeth, stealing one moan that made him almost melt.

Then agonizingly slowly he kissed the inside of your thigh, trailing kisses until his nose brushed against your clit. You wanted to beg for him to eat you, but his head turned towards the other tight, repeating the tantalizing trail of kisses until he reached for your dripping cunt.

"You are so ready for me" He kissed right above your clit, teasing you more and more. "But I have to dine first" a finger gently traced the outline of your lips, taking his time before dipping it between your folds, and earning a moan. It was so long since someone touched you, you could feel your whole body clench at the smallest touch.

He kissed your thigh again, sighing at the softness of your skin. You were so wet he just inserted another finger in you and started pumping in your pussy, drawing those perfect moans from you again, music to his pointy ears.

Then as he added another finger, his teeth sank in your plush thigh. All of your senses jolted up, amplifying everything as he started drinking from you.

His slender fingers reached right where he made you cry in pleasure, as you slowly gave in to the lightheadedness.

As he kept feeding, he still worked you like he knew every movement that would make you whimper, drawing always so near to your orgasm before pulling away.

Moments later he finally let go of your thigh, his teeth slipped away from the pricks they had made home in, and licked away the rivlet of blood still spilling from the new wound, causing your body to arch even more under his tongue. You were so close, so desperate to come you'd chant his name like a prayer, just so he'd taste you.

Instead he pulled out his fingers, taking one at a time in his mouth and sucking your slick off of them.

"You are delicious, my love" He moaned as he popped each finger out of his lips.

You were on edge, so tempted to take control and ride his face until you'd come on his lips, but you had to restrain yourself, you wanted him to guide you through it, you wanted him to have full control of his and your body.

His tongue reached for the rivlet of blood on his lips before pulling you in his lap, your thighs wrapped around his hips like they were made just for that. You could feel his erection press against your folds as he pulled you closer.

His lips and yours clashed together in something that was akin to a slow dance, your arms wrapped around his neck, while his held you by your hips.

You could drink the sighs he was letting out, the smile he grew in that intimate moment, the reason why he wanted you in this position.

For months he tried to imagine how he wanted to make love to you, how he'd feel the safest, and his mind always came back at the idea of your chests against each other, your lips so close he could kiss you, but also where he could hear your moans the closest. How he wanted you to rest against him as he whispered how perfect you were for him, he wanted you. All of you. All of your warmth, all of your skin, all of your sights, he wanted to see how he was affetting you, and how you affected him. He wanted to lift your chin, to kiss your neck, he wanted the both of you to find respite in the tight hold.

Seeing you so close to him, so vulnerable just how much he would be, it was how he wanted it to go, cause this for him was like a first time. He wanted to be overwhelmed by you, as you consumed him.

He wanted to feel his home in you. In you and only you.

He took a moment, resting against you, clinging to you like you were going to disappear from his grasp.

"If you want to stop, you just have to say it, my star" You whispered as you rested a hand in his hair, drawing circles on his scalp as he breathed in your scent, that was slowly mixing with the smell of sex.

"No my love, I'm just bathing in you before doing anything else" He admitted, placing a kiss on your neck, where he was resting his head.

"I don't think I could ever exchange this for anything. No power, or castle could compare to the home I made in your heart". His words were warm, caring, just like scorching fire against ice.

"I love you" You murmured as you caressed his cheek, and brought him back to you.

"I love you too, my one" He kissed you slowly as he guided you up. Bringing you to rest your forehead against each other as you slowly sank on his length. A gasp simultaneously filled the tent, so loud it could wake up everyone, but you didn't care. The air was pulled out of your chests, as you clinged on each other.

You both waited a moment before doing any movement, both overwhelmed by the closeness and the pleasure.

You wrapped around him so perfectly, he could barely keep any control over his body, his mind or his lips.

"Mh so perfect for me" He whispered sultry, as he guided you through the slow movement, allowing him to bottom out before having your hips meet his again, stealing another breathy moan.

It was slow, tender, so much that you could feel your eyes become glassy.

Nothing could ever compare to the fire that was spreading around your body as he picked up pace, stealing everything from you. Your air, your whimpers, your heart, over and over again.

He wanted to savor every inch of you, he would allow himself to fill you to the hilt, as he threw his head back.

"M-mine" He lulled as he couldn't resist the urge to go faster, his body loosing control of his movements.

It became all so sloppy, ragged as he grasped at you ass, his nails sinking into your skin as he slapped his hips against yours.

"This is what you do to me" He rasped as he lolled his head back. His hair wild as some curls fell on his face. His mouth agape as he choked praises.

Sweet gasps echoed between the syllables of your name, as he submitted to the pleasure.

He wanted to scream, to let everyone know you were his and no one could ever coax those sounds from him like you did, so effortlessly.

Your fingers twirled naturally around his curls, pulling his head to yours as you deepened the kiss along with your movements, savoring the taste of his lips and sweat as you made him see the stars.

You drank each other's moans with your lips as you completely gave away to the pleasure, as you gave all of you to each other.

You could barely register who was directing, cause your bodies just felt like one. Molten lava simply mixing as it burned hot like the hells.

You were so close, your whole body shaking as you could barely form a proper sentence. "L-love y-you" You muttered though your tongue felt indescribably heavy and light simultaneously.

You were drunk on him, your eyes rolling back as he hit that spot that could make you come undone. He worshiped every inch he could reach with his lips, making sure your body was left with a memory of the night, of his trust, of his love.

"You fill me so well" you praised with the last bit of your sanity, stealing the most precious sound from his lips.

Euphoria washed over Astarion as he was high on the feeling of your pussy clenching uncontrollably around him.

He pumped in you insatiably as you could feel it build up, the familiar knot as your muscles tensed up, feeling the heat rise and your legs shake.

You were not sure what it was, maybe it was the moaned praises, or his touch, or the way his hair bounced as he sank in your, but you felt your body being stripped of all the flesh, pleasure taking it's place as your orgasm washed over you. Your head rested on his shoulder as he was still lost in you, so close to his own release.

You knew that the only sound in the camp was your skin slapping, and the lustful sounds you'd make for each other.

The frenzy turned into a slow-burning passion, his hips rhythmically pounding in you as his lips met again with yours in a matching kiss, your moans mixing in the middle as you could feel it again, your orgasm building so quickly you barely had time to process how sensitive you were.

You let go of his lips to admire how his mouth parted, a series of whimpered moans fell from his lips as you could feel every inch of you being dragged away in the second orgasm at the sole sight.

His hips stuttered once, twice, before the arrogant orgasm sent him to the moon, spilling all his cum in your warmth.

He stayed in you for a few more moments as he processed how elated he felt.

There was no one else in the universe that would make him feel so safe, so loved. He was gentle as he laid with you in his arms, drawing shapeless lines along your velvety skin.

He couldn't hold back the tears that were forming at the edge of his eyes, as he held this night so close to his heart. For him, this was his first time, and it was with you, his other half.

You noticed right away when the first few tears started tracing his skin. You were so afraid of his reaction that this was like a shock to you, in a way.

You prayed the morninglord he wasn't already regretting the intimacy, maybe he didn't feel what you felt: that sense of belonging, the overwhelming love.

You cupped his cheek as you caught a tear with your thumb. "Are you ok, my star?" You whispered as you took away another and another with tenderness that made Astarion even more emotional.

He slowly met your gaze, his eyes so soft and his lips curled in a tender smile as the droplets still descended down his cheeks.

"I'm perfect, my love" He rested his hand on yours, clasping at your fingers and bringing them away from his cheek.

"Why are you crying?" You offered a reassuring look, the one he learned meant that you were a safe space where he could speak his mind unfiltered.

"I dreamt of this nights for months, how I would ask you, and how I'd hope this would carry out" He exhaled for a moment as he toyed with your fingers.

"And none of those dreams could ever get close to this" His smile was getting wider, accentuating those lines you loved so much.

"I don't care for sex, unless it's with you. Unless it's loving you with every inch of me, unless it means undressing ourselves and being exposed in all our vulnerability. Unless it means I get to feel you become part of me" You were absorbed by his words and his eyes, that you didn't notice he let go of your hand to hold you closer.

"You are the other part of me", He let out shakily. "I might even say you are the best part as well." He kissed your forehead tenderly. "You are my one and only" He whispered at last as he dragged the blanket he had left on the side, on your bodies. You murmured something between a love confession and a praise as he lulled you to sleep in his embrace.

You were fast asleep as he finally remembered what he was forgetting.

He summoned a mage hand, trying to be as silent as possible. The ghostly arm reached under one pillow and pulled out the velvety box, before shoving it in Astarion's backpack and dissolving its form.

"Tomorrow" He noted in his mind. "Tomorrow I'll ask you"

2K notes · View notes

mooshywrites · 4 months

Text

Echoes of Love and Loss

Fem!Reader x Halsin

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N - A massive thank you to @thoughts-of-bear for working with me on this prompt. Im really excited about making a series out of this and hope it’s everything you envisioned <3

Word count - 4K

Warnings - Angst, Jealousy, Smut next chapter

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“You’re mine”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

The party in your camp tonight was going to be like no other.

You could feel the energy vibrating through the air, a palpable buzz of excitement and relief after the long and grueling battle against Kethric Thorm and his cursed Shadowlands. Your group of companions were exhausted but excited as they made their way back to camp, already envisioning the celebration that waited for them. Wyll and Shadowheart were laughing and joking about needing a case or two of wine, Astarion was whining good-naturedly about how the outdoors were no place for a proper party, Lae'zel was grumbling impatiently about the need to make haste to Baldur's Gate, and Gale was eagerly discussing his latest theories on Elder Brain behavior with anyone who would listen

As you approached the Last Light Inn, you couldn't help but notice the change in atmosphere. Before the fight at moonrise towers, the mood was grim. Voices were hushed and nervous, weary of how much loss everyone had endured in the shadow curse.

But now, inside the tavern, the mood was lively. Everyone seemed to be talking at once, eagerly recounting tales from the recent battle and celebrating the lifting of the curse. Jahiera and her Harpers, along with the gnomes and tiefling, had already set off for Baldur's Gate, taking advantage of the newfound freedom from darkness and danger. You hoped the road wouldn’t be too hard on the. Almost everyone in the group had gone through enough to deserve a little bit of relaxed travel.

You scanned the small crowd, searching for Halsin's familiar figure among the faces. He had gone ahead of the group and you knew he was probably deep in thought. Since the fight at Moonrise Towers, he had been unusually quiet, a stark contrast to his normally talkative nature. Though you had noticed he was a bit standoffish before the fight, his usually guarded demeanor now seemed impenetrable. It was clear that something was troubling him deeply.

As you approached him, you couldn't help but notice the uncertainty in his eyes. They flickered with conflicting emotions, giving away his inner turmoil. He avoided your gaze, barely acknowledging your presence as he continued to walk forward. It was as if he didn't know how to face you anymore, or perhaps he was struggling with something that he couldn't share with anyone else. The air between you felt heavy with unspoken words and the tension was palpable.

The sting of disappointment was undeniable, a sharp ache in your heart. You hadn’t even been able to say anything to him before he had stalked off into the tavern.

Despite knowing better, you couldn't help but feel drawn to Halsin above all the others. When he let his guard down, he was an enchanting storyteller and a great listener. His skill with a knife was mesmerizing, transforming any simple piece of wood you brought him into a work of art. He’d sit with you and discuss the day, giving you advice on the various issues you came across on the journey thus far. And on rare occasions, when the night was still and the stars twinkled above, he would share songs he knew with you, his voice laced with a subtle hint of sorrow.

You both knew that he carried the weight of guilt for the curse in the shadowlands. He blamed himself, as if he had shirked his duties as a Druid and failed to protect the gifts given to the world by Silvanus.

The shadowland curse was a dark stain on his heart. A stone wall separating the two of you. You were hoping with the curse gone, perhaps that wall would’ve crumbled.

Of course, it seemed that hope would’ve been far too easy.

You took in a deep breath and steeled yourself. It wasn’t fair to expect the Druid to have deeper feelings for you if he simply didn’t. Halsin owed you nothing. Besides that, the connection you craved from him would probably bring more harm than good.

You couldn’t save the whole of Baldur’s Gate if you were falling over yourself to get approval from someone.

You tried to shake the thoughts from your head, slightly annoyed that the insecurities had dug deep enough into your mind that they threatened your mood. No, tonight you were going to have fun, no strings attached. You needed to ignore the ache in your chest so it wouldn’t ruin what you and your companions had accomplished.

What you really needed was a strong drink.

It didn’t take long to find a source of alcohol. Shadowheart and Wyll had lined up a few glasses and broken open a wine barrel, chatting casually as they sipped.

As you joined Shadowheart and Wyll at the makeshift bar, pouring yourself a glass of wine, you tried to push Halsin to the back of your mind. You listened half-heartedly to their banter, letting the sound of their laughter fill the space between your own troubled thoughts. The wine was sweet on your tongue, a welcome distraction from the inner turmoil that threatened to consume you. With each sip, you felt a little bit lighter, a little less burdened by the weight of your unrequited feelings.

But just as you were beginning to relax into the warmth of the alcohol, a familiar voice cut through the haze of noise in the tavern. "You look troubled, my friend," Wyll said softly, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard, trying to compose yourself as you met his gaze. “I... I'm fine,” you replied, willing yourself to sound convincing. But Wyll just gave you a pitying smile.

“You know, a case of wine and a good dance always lightens my night when I feel how you look.” He grinned.

Shadowheart scoffed, “I hope that wasn’t your attempt at flattering her.”

You gave Shadowheart a small smile, tucking your hair behind your ears. You knew Wyll had meant no harm by the comment, you probably did look disheveled by both your drinking and feelings.

“I was simply saying that we can’t let our companion stand here and drink looking this sad. Not after we literally just fought and survived a battle with the God of Death.” Wyll protested.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that dance, then.” You giggled, your tipsiness making words difficult to form, “I’m quite good you know, at dancing, I mean.”

“You are?” Shadowheart raised her eyebrows.

“Mhm” You shrugged, “I started learning to dance to help with agility. It turns out, I’m a better dancer than I am a fighter.”

“I should’ve guessed.” Wyll teased before holding out his hands, “Well then, show me how good of a dancer you are, o’ savior of the shadowlands?”

A small giggle escaped your lips as you took his hand, letting him guide you in a gentle spin. The warmth of his touch against your skin was comforting, filling the void in your chest with a sense of contentment.

Whether it was the wine or just pure exhaustion, being held by someone felt like a relief. Wyll's hand rested securely on your waist, his lips humming a simple waltz as he twirled you around the open floor. Despite the buzz of voices and laughter around you, it seemed like no one paid much attention to your dancing. Your feet moved effortlessly in sync with Wyll's rhythm, following his lead without hesitation. As he pulled you closer during the next spin, you found yourself leaning into him, seeking more of that closeness that eased your heartache.

But then, as your gaze wandered around the room, you caught sight of Halsin standing in the corner with his arms tightly crossed over his chest, his eyes locked onto where Wyll's hand rested on your waist. A tension filled the air between the three of you, making your once carefree thoughts feel heavy.

Halsin's gaze was like a thunderstorm, dark and brooding as it bore into your intertwined figures on the dance floor. The lively atmosphere of the tavern seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the weight of his stare pressing down on you. You felt rooted to the spot, unable to tear your eyes away from his piercing look. The unspoken words hung heavy between you, suffocating any semblance of joy that had filled your heart just moments ago.

As Wyll led you in another twirl, you could sense the tension in Halsin growing palpable. His jaw clenched tightly, his stance rigid as if he were battling some internal conflict. The music that had once filled your ears now seemed distant and muffled, drowned out by the deafening silence that enveloped you and Halsin.

Before you could even process what was happening, Halsin abruptly turned on his heels and strode out of the tavern, disappearing into the night without a word.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched him leave. What on earth could that have been about? Your tipsy mind wondered if you had done something to offend him. If something you said or did at moonrise towers had made him hate you. Why else would he have been looking at you with such intensity?

Wyll clearing his throat brought you back into the moment, it was as if you had forgotten for a moment that you were dancing with him. Wyll gave you a knowing look and a soft smile as he let you go.

“You should go after him.” He prodded gently.

“What do you mean?” You asked, looking back at the doorway.

“I mean, you only look at someone the way Halsin looked at you for one reason.” Wyll muttered

“What reason is that?” You stuttered, still not grasping the situation.

“Just go talk to him.” Wyll sighed, giving you a gentle nudge towards the door.

Then he walked back to Shadowheart, leaving you to make the decision to follow Halsin or not on your own. You stared back at the doorway, silently contemplating before you took a breath and walked out.

The crisp night air enveloped your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. The full moon glowed brightly in the sky, casting a silvery light over the landscape. The stars twinkled like scattered gemstones, creating a peaceful and serene atmosphere. The whole scene made you feel a little calmer as you made your way further from the tavern, trying to see where the Druid may have gone.

The soft rustling of leaves caught your attention, and you followed the sound into the dense thicket on the outskirts of the camp. The moonlight filtered through the canopy of trees, casting intricate patterns on the forest floor as you ventured deeper into the shadows.

You called out Halsin's name, the sound of your voice swallowed by the silent embrace of the night. A lone owl hooted in response, its haunting call echoing through the stillness of the woods.

As you nervously pushed past a tangle of branches, you finally caught sight of Halsin standing at the edge of a moonlit clearing. His back was turned to you, his silhouette outlined by the ethereal glow of the moon. He seemed lost in thought, his shoulders drooping with an air of resignation.

You approached him slowly, unsure of what to say or how to break the heavy silence that hung between you. The distance between you felt like an insurmountable chasm, filled with unspoken words and unvoiced emotions that threatened to suffocate you both. Halsin didn't turn as you drew nearer, his gaze fixed on the moonlit clearing ahead.

“Halsin,” you called out softly, your voice barely above a whisper in the stillness of the night.

He stiffened at the sound of your voice, but still didn't face you. The tension in the air was thick, almost tangible as you stood just a few feet away from him. You could feel the weight of his emotions hanging heavy in the air, and it made your heart ache with a mixture of guilt and longing.

“I... I didn't mean to upset you,” you began, your words hesitant as you struggled to find the right thing to say. “I don't know what I did, but if I hurt you in any way, I'm truly sorry.”

Finally, Halsin turned to look at you, his expression unreadable in the moonlight. His eyes held a storm of emotions, swirling with a mix of anger, hurt, and something else that you couldn't quite place. The lines on his face seemed deeper, as if the weight of the world had settled there. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like an unbridgeable gap.

“You didn't upset me,” he finally said, his voice rough with emotion. “It's not about what you did. It's about what you make me feel.”

Confusion clouded your foggy mind as you tried to decipher his words. What did he mean by that? What feelings were stirring within him because of you?

Halsin sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I've tried to deny it, to bury it deep inside me. Try to ignore it outright, even. But seeing you with him...” He trailed off, unable to voice the turmoil raging inside him.

“With him?” You repeated softly, feeling a flicker of understanding dawn within you.

Halsin nodded, his gaze falling to the ground below as he spoke. "Yes, with him. Wyll. When I saw you with him, a part of me... a part of me wishes it were me dancing with you. A part of me wishes I could hold you close without being afraid."

His words hung heavy in the air, the weight of his confession settling over you like a shroud. You stood there, stunned by his revelation, your mind racing with a mix of emotions. The image of Halsin, always so composed and stoic, baring his soul to you was both heartbreaking and yet intoxicating.

“I... I didn't know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the silence of the night. “I thought you didn’t see me as anything other than an ally against The Absolute.”

Halsin finally turned to face you fully, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your arms. “I know,” he said softly, his voice raw with emotion. “I've kept my feelings hidden for so long. I thought I didn’t deserve to start falling in love with someone after how I had let the curse fester here. I thought I didn’t deserve you.” He grimaced.

“But seeing you tonight, seeing the way you laughed and danced with Wyll, it broke something inside me. It made me realize that maybe, just maybe, I do deserve a chance at happiness.” Halsin's voice was filled with a vulnerability you had never seen in him before. The moonlight bathed his face in a soft glow, highlighting the raw honesty etched in his features.

Your heart swelled with a myriad of emotions, the weight of his words echoing in your chest. You reached out tentatively, closing the distance between you and placing a hand on his arm. “Halsin, I... I don't know what to say.” Your voice wavered as you struggled to find the right words to convey the whirlwind of feelings swirling within you.

He gazed down at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of rejection or acceptance. “Please, just tell me the truth, my heart. Tell me if there's any chance for us, if there's any hope for a future where we can be more than just allies. Say the word and I’ll never bring this up again. We can be friends in the very least.” His voice was filled with a plea, a silent prayer that hung in the air between you like an unspoken promise. You felt the weight of his gaze on you, his vulnerability laid bare before you, and it stirred something deep within your heart.

As you looked into his eyes, searching for your own truths, a rush of memories flooded your mind. The moments shared together, the laughter, the quiet conversations under the moonlight. You realized that the connection you felt with Halsin ran far far deeper than mere friendship. It was an unspoken bond that had been quietly growing, nurtured by shared experiences and unspoken understanding.

Taking a deep breath, you met his gaze with hesitence. “Halsin,” you began, your voice unsteady from the tumult of emotions swirling within you. “I... I don't know what the future holds for us. But I do know that what I feel for you goes beyond friendship.”

You looked away, the sobering reality of your situation filling your mind again.

“But the cult… saving Baldur’s Gate. If it came to a moment’s decision, could you choose the fate of thousands over my own? Could we really save the people we need to save if we’re too focused on each other?”

Halsin's expression softened at your words, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes even at your hesitance. He reached out to gently lift your chin, guiding your gaze back to meet his.

“Love has a way of giving us the strength we never knew we had. Together, we can face whatever challenges come our way, even if one of us is lost.” He said, his voice filled with conviction

The moonlight seemed to dance around the two of you as you stood there, caught in a moment suspended in time. The weight of the world and the responsibilities pressing down on you felt distant, overshadowed by the warmth of Halsin's touch and the affection that was beginning to bloom between you.

“It won't be easy,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you gazed into his eyes, seeing a reflection of your own fears and hopes mirrored back at you. “But I want to try. I want to see where this could lead us.”

Halsin smiled, a smile that reached his eyes and filled your chest with warmth.

The two of you stood for a moment, locked in each other’s gaze, a mere breath from each other before Halsin let out a soft chuckle.

“It can’t be any harder than seeing you in Wyll’s arms.” He teased, pulling you gently into his arms.

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension of the moment breaking as a wave of relief washed over you. The weight that had settled on your shoulders seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of lightness and freedom.

"Who knew a old bear like you could be so jealous," you replied with a playful grin, the warmth of his touch still lingering on your skin.

“Jealous?” Halsin murmured thoughtfully. “I would not call it jealousness, my heart. Merely possessiveness.”

His tone was half an octave lower and your breath caught slightly. You could feel how Halsin’s arms ever so slightly tightened around you. You wondered how far you you could push the Druid’s buttons, the wine making you bolder than you might’ve been.

“I guess I'll have to test just how possessive you can get,” you teased, a mischievous glint in your eye as you playfully pushed against his chest, reveling in the way his grip tightened around you in response. The air between you crackled with a newfound tension, the unspoken desire that simmered beneath the surface now palpable in the moonlit clearing.

Halsin's gaze darkened slightly, a mixture of amusement and something more primal flickering in his eyes. “Careful, my heart,” he warned in a low voice, the rumble sending a shiver down your spine. “You might just awaken a side of me you're not quite ready for.”

A thrill shot through you at his words, the prospect of unraveling the composed facade he wore so effortlessly enticing.

The intensity of his earlier confession still hung thick in the air, your chest pressed tightly against his own. You couldn’t find the words for a smart retort as you looked up into his eyes, lost in his expression.

Your eyes flicked to his lips, absentmindedly wondering about how the little scar there would feel against your tongue.

As if sensing your thoughts, Halsin’s eyes darkened.

The air between you crackled with anticipation, the tension thick and charged with unspoken desire. With a sudden surge of courage, you closed the distance between your lips and his, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss. The world around you seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the taste of him, the feel of his arms around you pulling you closer.

Halsin responded eagerly, his restraint crumbling under the weight of the moment. The warmth of his body pressed against yours ignited a fire within you that blazed fiercely, consuming every doubt and fear in its path. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, a silent exchange of passion and longing that spoke volumes more than any words ever could.

As the kiss deepened, time seemed to stand still. When you finally pulled away for a moment, you were breathless.

Halsin’s eyes stayed locked on yours, his face still close enough for you to see the flecks of gold in his iris.

“You’re mine.” He murmured.

You blinked in surprise, trying to ignore the way his words sent a flurry of goosebumps across your skin.

His gaze was possessive and heated, the feelings he had while seeing you with Wyll obviously still nagging at his thoughts.

You paused, searching his eyes as the anticipation rose in your chest. As the heat pooled in your stomach.

“Prove it then.” you whispered.

He didn’t need further encouragement. With a fierce determination in his eyes, Halsin lifted you effortlessly off the forest floor and carried you deeper into the heart of sparse woods. The moonlight guided your path as you clung to him, your heart racing with a mix of fear and exhilaration.

As he found a secluded wrapped in a blanket of new and soft grass, he gently set you down, his gaze never leaving yours. The air around you was thick with desire, tension swirling between you like a tempest waiting to break free.

Without a word, Halsin captured your lips in another searing kiss, his hands tangling in your hair as he deepened the connection between you. Every touch felt electric, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins.

The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment. The rustling leaves and distant calls of nocturnal creatures formed a haunting symphony to accompany the unbridled passion that burned between you.

Halsin leaned further against you, settling between your legs. Your mind began to cloud with need, everything about the Druid enveloping you completely.

Halsin pulled back for just a moment, staring down at you hungrily.

“I promise you, when tonight is over, you will have no doubts of who you belong to.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Pt 2

#halsin #halsin silverbough #halsin x you #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #halsin fluff #halsin smut #baldurs gate 3 halsin #bg3 halsin #halsin series #halsin spoilers #halsin romance #halsin fic #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 x you #bg3 x you #bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader

488 notes · View notes

lendeah · 5 months

Text

Thank you very much, Gale. Goodnight.

Pairing: Gale x Fem!Reader/Tav

Summary:

Upon reaching the Last Light Inn, your party is informed about the room arrangements: you will have to share rooms in pairs. Fate has it that you find yourself paired with a particularly charming wizard. To add a twist, there's only one bed. or Gale and Tav relive the "there was only one bed" trope.

Tags: Fluff and smut. They are so cute.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: NSFW (minors dni), thighs, frottage, heavy petting, mutual masturbation, touch starved Gale.

Note: This was going to be a prompt but it got out of hand. Anyway, a small gift for the Gale girlies (me, I am the Gale girlies). Also, not proofread and english isn't my first language, so be gentle!🫶🏻

"You will have to share rooms in pairs" Yaheira had deadpanned. After our long journey, we finally reached the Last Light Inn. We were hoping for a comfortable bed and some privacy, but our hopes were crushed.

Yaheira didn't seem fazed by our reactions, her expression remaining stoic.

"After all the blood, sweat and tears we poured into saving you lot back there this is the beautiful appreciation we get in return?" Astarion exclaimed dramatically, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Yaheira's cold stare silenced him. "Many soldiers are residing here, sacrificing their own comfort for our cause. Four of them have given up their bedchambers for your stay. You should be grateful," she reprimanded sharply.

The creaky wooden floors and musty smell hinted at the age of the building, but it was a small price to pay for a warm bed and shelter from the danger of the shadows outside. The group stood in a huddle, debating their next move. Wyll's voice rang out confidently "I propose we stay at the camp like we have been doing.".

Karlach's response was immediate and determined: "What, and die in the shadows? No, thank you."

You let out a frustrated sigh, feeling about to faint from weariness. "Guys, we're all exhausted. We should just accept the offer and get some rest. We practically sleep on top of each other every other day anyway."

"Yeah, but not on the same bed." Shadowheart chimed, giving Lae'zel a sly side glance. "And how would we determine who sleeps with whom, anyway?"

Gale, the ever-practical one, interjected: "Perhaps we could employ a method of chance, such as drawing straws, in order to make a resolution?"

So that's how Gale and you end up entering the old dusty and messy bedroom from the last Light Inn. The single bed in the middle seems to be laughing at us.

Gale sighs. "I knew sharing rooms wasn't a good idea. I should just crawl under the bed." He scans the room, eyes coming to rest on the window, with the dark sky looming outside. "I could sleep out there too." He pauses. "The prospect of such a cozy rest is indeed quite alluring. The brisk gusts brushing against my face, as I gaze upwards towards the unobstructed expanse of the starry heavens. Delightful, wouldn't you agree?"

He moves to get out of the door, but you grab his arm, your voice pleading, tinged with desperation from the exhaustion. "Please, Gale, I know it's uncomfortable, but can we just please do this tonight and figure out a better plan tomorrow?"

He swallows, glancing down at your fingers wrapped around his arms. "I-I don't think you realize just how difficult it'll be for me. This bed's too small, and it's too close, and—I can't."

I look at him with my eyes narrowed "If you don't get on the bed in the next five minutes, I am going to use my maze on you. And let me tell you, it hurts"

He looks at me dumbfounded ."...You wouldn't?" You give him a pointed stare. Of course, you don't mean to hurt him, but you are too tired to fight or move for that matter.

He swallows, looking you up and down again. Then he nods and turns toward the bed. "Uh, fine. I guess I'll, uh, get on the bed. However, I cannot guarantee that any peculiar occurrences will not transpire. I mean, not that I expect anything weird to happen. Just, you know, putting it out there. Okay, I'll stop talking now."

Your roll your eyes fondly at his rambling. As Gale awkwardly settles onto the edge of the bed, you quickly change into your undergarments and crawl into the other side. The bed creaks under both of your weight, making Gale flinch. The space feels narrow, forcing you close together. There's barely an inch in between, and any movement sends you brushing up against him. You can feel his body heat radiating off him, a little toasty.

"The dimensions of this bed are rather diminutive," he whispers, staring up at the ceiling under the blanket, unable to make eye contact with you.

"Aren't you sharp" you whisper teasingly.

"It's... it's tiny! How do you expect two fully-grown individuals to successfully sleep in this thing?" He says in an exasperated whisper. It is small, though. Feels like I'm being wrapped in a blanket... Except the blanket is another person.

I sigh in exhasperation, "Gale I am trying to sleep for god's sake!"

Gale shifts uncomfortably, trying to make himself as small as possible on the narrow bed. "I apologize, I didn't mean to disturb your slumber. I just...I can't get comfortable in such confined space."

You let out another sigh, feeling a little bad for him. "I'm sorry. This isn't your fault, but is it possible that we exchange our positions? I don't mean to inconvenience you, but I feel like I can't relax like this. I can sleep on the edge of the bed, and you can sleep in the middle."

You look at him, one second away from grabbing your maze for real. "Gale, there is no middle, every part of this damned bed is the edge!"

Gale, is still fidgeting on his side.

"This is ridiculous," you mutter under your breath.

"I know," he responds quietly. "I'm sorry." He bites his lip, looking up at the ceiling again. "It seems as though you are now stuck with me as your blanket," he says, turning his head in your direction. "I hope this arrangement does not cause any discomfort for you... I would not want to impede upon your sleep."

At that, you can’t help but smile fondly back at him "It could be worse," you remark softly. "I could be stuck with Halsin and his incessant snores."

"Halsin snores?" He blinks in genuine surprise. "I never would have guessed. Is it disruptive? Like a storm tearing through the night?"

You roll your eyes. "You wouldn't know, you sleep like a rock all night." Your words are playful, as you nudge him lightly with your elbow.

"I do not! I am an extremely light sleeper, in fact, the slightest noise can jolt me from my slumber. It's quite a remarkable feat, really." His brow furrows. "Wait, does this imply that you have observed me in my sleep?" He blurts out. He is now on his side too, both of us facing each other.

A soft chuckle escapes from your lips, banishing all thoughts of sleep. "Yeah," you remarked with a playful smile, "I must say, you look really cute when you're sleeping."

The moonlight streaming in through the window cast a gentle glow on Gale's face, making your heart swell with affection. His tousled hair and big brown eyes look even softer in this ambience.

His mouth drops open, his eyebrows now shooting up to his hairline. "I do not look cute while I sleep!"

"So cute, with your cheeks all puffed," you say, reaching out to pinch his cheek playfully.

Gale's face flushes a bright red and he turns away, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"I—I'm not cute when I sleep," he whispers." I am powerful! A talented wizard, a master of magic. I do not need to be "cute". And I'm not!" But as he protests, you can't help but notice the way his cheeks flush and how his hair sticks up in all directions, making him look endearingly disheveled. You can't resist the temptation and reach over to tickle his middle. "Cutie!"

"I am not!" he protests, giggling as you tickle him. "Stop it! You're making me... gahahaha!" His laughter bubbles out of him despite his attempts to hold it in.

You laugh too, enjoying the sound of his laughter. "See? Cute."

"I'm not cute!" he gasps out between laughs. "I'm... hahaha... I'm powerful!" He tries to sit up, but you pin him down with your hand on his chest. "You are cute, Gale. And you're adorable when you laugh," you say, looking into his eyes. He looks at you, his cheeks still flushed with laughter and embarrassment. For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other before Gale clears his throat and lays on his side again.

"Gale?" I call out softly, hoping to break the silence.

"Yes...?"His voice is barely audible.

Smirking mischievously, you decide to push his buttons a little more.

"You know, I have trouble falling asleep unless I'm cuddled up next to someone." you whisper

He flinches. It takes a moment for your request to fully register, and he stares at you with a mixture of shock and confusion.

"...Are you serious? You want me to cuddle you?"

You nod eagerly, a hopeful smile playing on your lips. "Usually it would be Shadowheart offering, but she's not here right now."

"You want—me, to wrap my arms around you, to..."

His eyes narrow. "Am I hearing you right? You're asking me, to hold you?"

You roll my eyes "Yes Gale, that is usually how cuddling works."

Gale looks at you, taken aback by your request. His face flushes with embarrassment as he considers your words. "Um...I-I'm not entirely certain if that would be a prudent course of action," he stammers out, looking away from you.

"Forget it," Frustration wells up inside of you and you let out a low grunt before turning away to face the opposite side of the room.

"Er- I mean, wait, that wasn't a rejection... " He scoots closer, careful not to touch you. You turn yourself, so you are looking at him again. He looks down at you with a nervous expression. "So if I were to, hypothetically speaking, encircle my arms around your form, you wouldn't object?"

For some reason, your heart skips a beat at the thought of his arms around you.

"Well," you respond playfully. "I would probably say something along the lines of 'thank you very much Gale, goodnight'."

He hesitates for a moment before finally inching closer, his arm hovering uncertainly in the air. With a deep breath, he takes the plunge and wraps his arm around you, pulling you gently against his chest. You let out a surprised gasp, not expecting him to actually cuddle you, but the warmth and comfort that radiate from him are welcome in the cold room. You nestle into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your ear and inhaling the intoxicating combination of an old book's musty pages and his rich cologne, laced with a subtle hint of sweat. You wrap your arms tighter around his soft body, savoring the feeling of being held in his strong embrace.

"Thank you, Gale" you whisper, intertwining your fingers behind his back. "Goodnight."

As the exhaustion of your journey settles over you, you feel the familiar pull of sleep in your body. However, the moment is disturbed by the feeling of something hard poking your stomach. Your eyes snap open and meet Gale's, who stands there frozen with shock and embarrassment.

"I... I'm sorry," he stammers out, mortified. "I didn't mean for that to happen. It's just been so long and you are so close and..."

Your bodies are still pressend, and you try to make sense of everything. Finally, you laugh softly and pat his arm reassuringly. "It's okay, Gale. There's nothing to be embarrassed about." you say reassuringly, though you can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"But... but I didn't mean for this to happen," he repeats, still clearly flustered.

"It's natural," you say calmly, trying to put him at ease. "It happens sometimes when people get close like this."

Gale nods slowly, still looking a little uncertain. He shifts slightly so that the bulge isn't pressing against your body as much anymore. "Thank you for understanding," he says quietly. Your heart swells with affection as you watch him; there is something endearing about his vulnerability in this moment. You have an overwhelming urge to pull him close, to shield him from any harm and take care of him.

A twinge of guilt tugs at your conscience as you watch the flush rise in his cheeks, a direct result of your teasing. You chew on your lip for a moment before an idea strikes you. "Do you... want me to lend a hand?" You offer tentatively, gazing up at him with soft eyes and a gentle tone. His big brown orbs widen in surprise at your unexpected offer. You are also taken aback by your own words, but don't take them back.

He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. You can see the struggle in his expression as he tries to process what you just said.

"I mean, it's completely up to you," you quickly add, not wanting to pressure him into anything. "I just thought maybe it would help alleviate some of your... discomfort."

He takes a deep breath and looks away from you, clearly embarrassed. Gale hesitates for a moment before nodding slowly. "Okay," his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart races at his acceptance. You were not expecting him to actually agree to your offer, but you are weirdly glad he did. "Okay," you repeat softly, moving your hand down to his waist and pulling him closer. You slowly reach down between both your bodies, gently taking hold of his erection through his pants. Gale gasps softly as your fingers brush against him, sending shivers down his spine. You can feel his breath hitch in anticipation as you start to move your hand up and down. As you gaze up at him, his arms still holding your body, a deep stirring awakens within you. The wizard before you, with his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, is more attractive than you had ever realized. His tanned skin is like velvet against your fingertips, and his long hair falls over his face in gentle waves. Each reaction to your caress, every soft moan that escapes his lips, only adds fuel to the fire growing inside of you. Looking so eager for your touch.

Without hesitation, you lean forward and capture his lips in a gentle kiss. To your surprise, he responds enthusiastically, his hands moving to rest on your face as he pulls you closer to him. You deepen the kiss, your heart racing at the feeling of his warm lips against yours and the subtle tickle of his beard on your cheeks. As you continue to kiss, your hands never stops the gentle strokes on his erection. Gale's moans are becoming louder and more urgent. You can feel his need growing as he grinds against your hand, seeking more friction.

"L-let me touch you" he says between ragged breaths.

You smile at him, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the effect you're having.

"I have a better idea," you say softly, moving your hand away from his erection. You take off your panties, and move on your side in front of him again. Gale lets out a small gasp as you straddle him, feeling the heat of his arousal pressed against your bare thighs.

"What are you doing?" he asks, his voice thick with both curiosity and lust.

A mischievous grin plays on your lips. "I'm going to give you something even better than my hand to relieve yourself," you purr, swaying your hips in demonstration in a slow, enticing rhythm, that elicits a delicious friction between his cock and the warm heat of your thighs and cunt.

You take one of his hands and guide it to your breast, letting him feel its softness and moaning quietly at the touch. Gale's eyes widen in surprise, gently squeezing it but with his eyes fixed on yours.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, reaching up to touch your face with his free hand.

"Thank you, so are you," you reply, leaning down to capture his lips in another tender kiss. He seems to find your praise very arousing, as his breathing quickens and he thrusts his hips upward, seeking more contact with your body. In response, you arch your back and press your chest against him, savoring the feel of his erection against your core and thighs.

"I want you so much," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "I've been dreaming of this moment for so long but I never- I didn’t think-“ he gasps at a particularly good thrust.

You're not sure how to answer, so instead you keep whispering sweet nothings in his ear. "You're an amazing kisser, Gale," you say, "you touch me so good..."

He moans in your mouth, gripping your hips harder as he keeps pounding erratically. Your hands move to his hair, pulling from the strands and eliciting a small whine from his throat. You can feel the hardness of his erection brushing against your wet folds with every movement, and it sends shivers of pleasure down your spine. You let out a moan into his lips as his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing small circles that send sparks of pleasure throughout your body. Feeling his arousal growing even more, you know he won't last much longer, so you move your hips in a faster rhythm, grinding against his cock with more urgency.

Gale lets out a low growl, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he matches your movements. The friction between your bodies is almost unbearable, but in the most delicious way possible. As you continue to move together, your breaths growing heavier and more ragged, you can feel the familiar sensation of your orgasm building within you too. Gale seems to be close as well, as he begins to thrust deeper and harder into your thighs, his breath hot and ragged against your neck. You can hear the slap of skin and the squelching sound of your now wet thighs.

"Oh, gods," he gasps out, feeling himself getting closer and closer to the edge. "I'm gonna..."

His body suddenly tenses up as he comes undone, his hips bucking wildly as he spills himself into the soft skin. For several moments, Gale lies there panting and gasping for breath.

"Oh, gods," he gasps out. "That was...amazing."

You lean and press a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling at him as you do.

"I'm glad it brought you pleasure," you whisper softly, running your fingers through his hair.

Suddenly, his skilled fingers find their way back to your core. He seems to sense that you didn't reach climax with him earlier and now he's determined to make sure you do. His touch is intense as he circles and rubs against your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You let out a moan, arching your back and grinding against his hand. He watches you with intense desire in his eyes as he continues to pleasure you.

"Gods, you're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky with lust. "I am not going to be able to forget this."

His words only fuel your desire even more, and you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge once again. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you ride the waves of pleasure, your hips moving in sync with his fingers.

"I want to make you feel good," Gale says breathlessly, kissing along your neck and collarbone. "Tell me what feels good."

You guide his hand lower, signaling for him to enter you with his fingers. He complies eagerly, sliding two fingers inside of you and curling them just right to hit that perfect spot. You cry out in pleasure, your walls clenching around him. You know you are not going to last long, still sensitive from the previous ministrations.

"Thank the heavens and hells," Gale groans, looking at me like I am a work of art. Setting a steady pace with his fingers, he kisses down your chest and takes one nipple into his mouth. The combination of sensations has you teetering on the edge once again.

"I-I'm close," you manage to say between gasps.

"Come for me," Gale whispers against your skin, increasing the speed and pressure of his movements.

With a final thrust of his fingers and a flick of his tongue against your hardened nipple, you come undone in a powerful climax that leaves you panting and shaking in Gale's arms. He holds onto you tightly as he continues to pleasure you through the aftershocks.

"That was incredible," he murmurs against your skin as he peppers kisses all over your face.

"Yes it was," you reply dreamily, still basking in the afterglow.

Gale pulls out from between your thighs and settles down next to you, his strong arms enveloping you in a warm embrace. As you press your body closer to his, you feel a subtle shift, an unspoken understanding passing between the two of you. Instead of voicing it out loud, you turn to him and whisper,

"Thank you very much, Gale. Goodnight"

#bg3 fanfiction #gale x reader #bg3 #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 tav #gale x tav #gale fanfic #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #gale baldurs gate #gale #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #baldurs gate gale

538 notes · View notes

blkgirl-writing · 8 months

Note

So. Technically... the Revivify spell only works for one minute after death.

Begging for a piece where Gale sees Tav go down in combat, everyone is fighting for their lives, meanwhile he's across the battlefield, fighting his hardest to get closer and feeling the minute they have to revive Tav slipping away...

Gale x Fem!reader

"Cold to the touch"

I have never finished a request so fast I'll be honest. This is so heartbreaking but absolutely amazing.

Tags and TWs: angst, a bit funny, some detailed graphic violence and blood, Gale in denial lowkey.

Sometimes the fights you picked should have been fights evaded

"Gale, go!" you screeched, seconds before the killing blow you your chest, blood rapidly pooling around your feet, too much blood, you whispered as you looked down with blurring vision, clutching at your skin, trying to stop the bleeding, even for a second. The last bit of your strength used to look back up at gale, and smile. your body thudded to the ground, completely and utterly lifeless.

Gale blinked. The wind knocked out of him like he was hit with a battering ram. He fractically looked around, who was close? no one. Astarion was high on the rooftop, Wyll and Karlach surrounded with no way out, everyone on the brink of death themselves. Lae'zel the furthest and least likely to help. That just left-

"Shadowheart? Shadowheart, HEAL HER!"

"I'm fresh out of spells-" Shadowheart yelled, looking back at your limp body. "I think...She's past anything I can do right now, anyway."

Gale's gaze went down to his own hands, the revive in his pocket, how many things were around him, and how much strength he really did have. Your body was getting cold, soul leaving body, time was of the essence.

"damn it" he whispered, squeezing his eyes tightly closed, concentrating on making sure he wouldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you. If the thoughts of your beautiful life absent from the rest of his miserable one crept up, he'd be paralyzed, he simply could not dwell on the bleak future. "ok"

Gale forced himself forward, nearly slipping immediately and cursing himself. Running. if he wasn't out of all the magic he could muster he could simply misty step. Instead he was forced to make his way little by little while watching the last of life slip from you as the reality set in. He couldn't get to you in time. He needed to save himself and the others if there was any hope of even bringing your corpse to have a proper burial. He had to topple goblins and just stare feet away from you as your magic slipped permanently away from this world. Helpless, and tearful.

He wanted to cover you up. Clothes ripped open from your wounds, he didn't want you to feel exposed. Though, he knew you weren't feeling anything at all. But he had nothing. Once again failing himself and you when he felt you most needed it.

"There....there has to be something we can do" he held your freezing and damp hand in his own warm ones. Enemies blood pooled with your own,. the fight was won, but it truly felt wrong to say those words. He had been brushing your hair out of your eyes while the others gathered around. They'd been the furthest, so Gale had gotten precious moments alone. Muttering sentances he didn't finish. About how he had failed you. About what could have been. Maybe an I love you had fallen from his lips, but it didn't matter anymore, not if he could never hear the words he so wanted to hear back from you, from your own sweet voice.

"I don't know, I....I'm so sorry, Gale." Shadowheart softly touched gales back for a moment of comfort and caring that was so rare for her. that's how he knew it was real. "I know you cared."

I know you cared. He didn't know why those words were his breaking point, but he suddenly felt water dripping down his face. Silent tears rushing down his race. "I truly did."

"We will find a way, Gale. Have hope." Wyll crouched beside Gale on the ground. "I don't think we can do this without her."

"I'll bring her back. Somehow." Gale nodded, finally tearing his gaze away from you. Everyone stood around your corpse. Everyone with the same, grim look. Though, Wyll just looked...sad, sadness for Gales pain, and for the senseless loss of another.

Gale had to get you back to get you comfortable in camp. You couldn't stay here. Not for animals to ravage.

"I'll get her to camp for you, Gale. Don't ware yourself out" Karlach effortlessly hoisted your body over her shoulder. Gale gathered the items that dropped from your pockets on the ground, covered in grime and blood. But he simply wiped it away. He didn't want you to have to clean it off later. He'd worry about the red stains on his fingers and blotches on his clothes later. He just had to worry about getting you back, and never losing you again.

(Consider supporting me on Ko-fi)

Tag list, tell me if you want to be added!

@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray

431 notes · View notes

wiltedreamofbaldursgate · 7 months

Text

Steady Hands, Frame My Love

characters: Astarion x race/class neutral fem!Tav/reader word count: +3.2k Rating: M trigger warning: mild-ish sexual content. bad eyebrows. This hasn't been beta-read nor am I a native speaker. read on ao3 read more BG3 one shots

Entrusting you with his face isn’t easy for Astarion, which is exactly why you’re so nervous about the whole thing to begin with. You want to do your very best—make him look his very best so that Astarion can feel good about himself. You couldn’t bear anyone making a bad comment on his appearance when he trusts you to be his mirror.

“Come out, spawn. There is no use in hiding.”

You know there is trouble when you spot Lae'zel in front of Astarion’s tent. Her tiny nose is scrunched up in a way that would be cute if it didn’t mean she wants to skin someone alive. The perfectly sharpened blade twitching in her hand is just another hint that she’s out for blood. You almost can’t blame Astarion for hiding from the Githyanki warrior’s wrath—almost, because it’s within every reason to assume he’s brought her wrath upon himself.

Taking a quick look around camp, you find that everybody is suspiciously busy minding their own business for once, skillfully ignoring the one-sided commotion in front of your lover’s tent. You can’t really blame them either; it’s been a very long day, and everybody wants to get some rest before dinner. You have half the mind to do the very same when Lae'zel’s intense gaze suddenly locks with yours—an honest rookie mistake.

There’s no use pretending you haven’t noticed her now, so you put your journal aside and approach the red tent with long strides and a smile that you can only hope will have a calming effect on her. Unsurprisingly, your hopes are shattered instantly.

Lae'zel doesn’t wait for you to friendly inquire about what the fuck the matter is this time; before you can even open your mouth, she’s all the way in your face.

“The spawn does as he pleases!”

Lae'zel would need to get a great deal more specific when it comes to Astarion, but you refrain from telling her so, opting for a questioning look instead.

The young warrior shakes her head, annoyed that her explanation isn’t sufficient enough for your small istik brain to comprehend.

“It is the spawn’s turn to fetch water from the stream. Thus is his duty,” Lae'zel explains slowly, accentuating every word with a well-placed hiss to get her point across. “A duty he fails to perform.”

You think it is progress that she isn’t waving her sword at you, although she does glare at you as if you were the offending party, which—since your relationship with the pale elf has become common knowledge around camp—you somewhat are.

“Where I am from, we make sure to keep our mates in check, however pleasing they might be. You might want to do the same.”

Maybe not so much progress, after all.

“Haven't I made myself quite clear on that before, Lae'zel?”

Holding her intense glare, you stare the warrior down. You have made yourself clear on occasion—you aren’t Astarion’s keeper.

It takes a moment, but Lae'zel is the first to break eye contact, eventually taking a step back. Not lowering your gaze, you wait patiently for her to continue.

“The spawn would better honour his word, or else…” She spits, not at you, but at Astarion’s firmly closed tent flap.

“I will remind him,” you assure her, not unkindly.

Lae'zel looks you up and down before she inclines her head ever so slightly.

“I trust you will,” she drawls, glaring at the tent one last time before she stalks away.

Left to take care of the issue at hand, you frown at the closed tent flap. As much as Astarion bitches about pulling his weight in camp, it’s unlike him to not do his chores one way or the other. And now that you think about it, he’s set up his tent uncharacteristically fast earlier, too, not even trying to rope anyone in to help him do his work. The realisation that you haven’t seen him since he vanished into said tent quite a while ago settles unpleasantly in your stomach.

“Astarion?”

You step closer to the heavy fabric closing off the tent’s entrance, listening. There’s no answer, although you do hear some hurried movement from within the tent. It’s a good sign, you suppose.

“You good in there?”

The silence stretches for another moment before Astarion finally lets out an exaggerated sigh. Going by the sound of it, he, too, must be standing rather close to the entrance.

“Truth be told, darling, I have been better.”

“Are you hurt?” You ask, not bothering to hide the obvious worry lacing your voice.

When could he have even gotten hurt? Haven’t you checked up on everyone after your earlier fight with some overly pesky, giant spiders? Or is he just messing with you—trying to avoid his laborious chore after all?

It takes yet another moment for Astarion to mumble something incomprehensible in reply. With raised eyebrows, you repeat your question, which earns you another sigh from him, this time more exasperated than theatrical.

“I just so happened to get some acid in my face when we took care of those cursed spiders and—”

“And?” You press, alarmed.

“It’s nothing, darling, really; it’s just—well…”

“Astarion!”

The vampire curses, and you can hear him step even closer to the tent’s opening, closer to you. You’re almost sure that if you pressed your hand against the fabric shielding him from you, you would be able to touch him.

“They're gone,” he says, his voice so low you have to strain your ears to hear him.

Your frown deepens. “What is?”

More mumbling reaches your ear, and Astarion has to repeat himself twice before you can eventually make any sense of his words. You stare at the tent flap in disbelief. You can't have heard right.

“Your eyebrows are gone?”

Astarion inhales sharply. “Must you scream it around for everyone to hear? Come in, come in!”

Not knowing what to expect, you enter the tent.

Astarion has retreated to the shadows; his hand is firmly pressed against his forehead. You stare up at him, trying to assess the situation. He looks pained alright, although you have an inkling it’s more from wounded vanity than actual injury. As you step closer to him, you give him a reassuring smile.

“So, acid, huh? I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

He is not convinced. At all. Wordlessly, he’s staring back at you, his jaw set. Your smile fades.

“Let me take a look?” You try again, feeling your already shaky optimism dwindle further.

He thinks it over for a couple of heartbeats before he slowly drags his hand to his hairline, pushing up the stands of white hair that usually fall so gracefully in his face…

Astarion must’ve drunk a healing potion because the presumably once-angry burns on his skin have already faded into pale red blotches sprinkled all over his forehead. By morning, nobody would even be able to tell the acid burns were ever there—were it not for Astarion’s eyebrows, or what’s left of them, that is.

You instantly force your face into a mask of neutrality. You have to approach this very delicately.

“It’s… salvageable. Really,” is all you can blurt out, though.

Astarion’s crimson eyes grow comically round, accentuated by the lack of eyebrows; he doesn’t believe a word you say, which you can’t really hold against him. You’re talking shit. It’s bad, and you wonder how in the nine hells you haven’t noticed this before.

“You can redraw them here and…there,” you go on for lack of anything better to say—Gods, you really should shut up. “Fill them back in, you know…?”

Astarion wets his lips while you're evading his piercing gaze.

“Why, what a grand idea,” he breathes, shakily. “I never would’ve thought of that myself. If only there wasn’t this one peculiar little thing. What was it again, my dear?”

You cringe. Of course. Of course… How could you forget?

“Ah, right…” You only notice the delicate hand mirror Astarion was holding when it flies across the tent, shattering somewhere on the bare ground farthest from you. “I can’t fucking see my face!”

As if all strength has left his body, Astarion sinks to the ground, where he lets himself fall back into his pile of blankets, arms draped over his eyes. It’s all rather dramatic, but you guess you can’t have one without the other.

Grimacing, because you’re sorry for him, you sink to your knees next to him, gently tugging at his sleeve.

“Do you want me to do it? Redraw them, I mean.”

You can tell by the way Astarion sits up as if struck by lightning that he was only waiting for your offer. Suddenly very close, he considers you with narrowed eyes.

“I suppose you could,” he muses, tracing the shape of your left eyebrow with his index finger. “You usually look presentable enough.”

You let the comment slide, but not without rolling your eyes at him. It’s just show, though, a way to suppress a smile. Astarion thinks he’s sly about it, but you catch him often enough looking at you as if you were the sun at dawn.

Of course, you would never dare mention that to him.

“Give me a minute,” you say instead, already rising to your feet, were it not for the cold fingers curling around your wrist.

Astarion gives you a stern look as he's holding you in place, his nose nearly brushing against yours. “Not a word to anyone about this.”

You give him a solemn look in return as you comb your fingers through his hair, gently guiding some stray locks back into place. “I’ll take your secret to the grave.”

Your hand is trembling just a little—enough for Astarion to notice. Enough for that damn smirk to find its way to his lips. You hold your breath.

“Nervous, love?”

Yes, and it’s stupid because you’ve done this often enough—daily, even. It’s just easier to apply cosmetics on yourself, sitting in front of a mirror and not kneeling in front of him, trying to evade his piercing gaze.

“Why would I be?” You scowl, readjusting the hold on your charred willow stick that has yet to make contact with Astarion’s skin. “Aren’t my eyebrows, are they?”

You shift closer to him, brushing against his leg with your knee, which doesn’t help your case at all. You can’t help feeling a little shaky when he’s this close—and he knows it.

“No need to tremble like a virgin, then, my sweet.”

Giving him a sharp look, you draw back a little, although you don’t make it far.

“Maybe you just need to come a little closer still,” he purrs as his hand takes hold of the back of your knee, pulling you onto his lap in one swift motion. “Might be less distracting for you…”

For someone close to having a meltdown less than fifteen minutes ago, he’s surely having lots of fun now. Biting your lower lip, you adjust your weight, straddling Astarion properly. Trying to ignore the hard body pressing against yours, you assess the natural growth of his eyebrows again, eventually setting the tip of the charred willow stick down on his skin, only to remove it again. This won’t work like this.

“Honestly, can you please just close your eyes?”

Astarion scoffs. “Should I blow out the candles, too, while I’m at it? Leave the nightdress on?”

“Shut up, or you’ll end up looking like a clown.”

That eventually does the trick. He gives you one last look that is somewhere between peeved and wary before he closes his eyes.

Entrusting you with his face isn’t easy for Astarion, which is exactly why you’re so nervous about the whole thing, to begin with. You want to do your very best—make him look his very best so that Astarion can feel good about himself. You couldn’t bear anyone making a bad comment on his appearance when he trusts you to be his mirror. The thought alone makes you shudder.

Astarion’s hand wanders up from your knee to your hip, giving it a gentle squeeze; this time, his touch is more encouragement than teasing.

After taking a deep breath, you lean back in.

With steady hands, you begin to redraw the missing parts of his eyebrows. Taking your time, you make sure to follow the natural shape of them; to blend out the colour where the charcoal comes off as too stark a contrast to his white hair.

While you’re working, Astarion doesn’t move one bit, eager—for once—to not fluster you. It’s not until you lean back to consider the fruits of your labour that he opens his eyes again.

“And?”

“Well,” you muse, “you look presentable enough.”

He scowls as you throw his own words back at him; you suppress a laugh before you take his face between your hands.

“If I could see the stars right now, I could not tell them apart from you,” you proclaim, mimicking his dramatics once again. It’s not as funny when you do it, so you’re quick to add, “You’re as beautiful as ever.”

You mean it, and Astarion knows it; trusts that you do. He leans forward to brush a kiss against your lips, hugging you to him, which is as much thanks as you expected to receive.

“Will you do it again tomorrow? And the day after,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck, “please?”

“Of course,” you assure him, deepening the embrace, “until they’ve grown back.”

Astarion hums in agreement and you remain like this for a moment before you pull back to look into his eyes, which are once again framed by a pair of sharp eyebrows accentuating his perfect features.

“I should’ve noticed earlier,” you say, at last. “I’m sorry. I’m not a very good mirror, it seems.”

Astarion frowns at you, the intensity of his gaze taking you aback as it is wont to do.

“Don’t be,” he urges, gently taking your dominant hand in his. He runs his fingers along the back of it, careful not to put too much pressure on your still-raw skin. His touch stings nonetheless, reminding you of your own acid burns that have yet to heal—those spiders really are a menace. “You should be more careful, too, you know? You’re the only working mirror I have.”

You’re lying flat on your back before you can even gasp in surprise. To your embarrassment, your legs have already wrapped around Astarion’s waist; all you can see is that damn smirk on his lips as he’s towering over you, his face barely a finger width away from yours. Your breath hitches as you take him in; nobody has any right to be this beautiful.

“It would be a shame if I lost it, my precious little mirror,” he sighs before pressing his lips to yours.

It’s a far cry from his earlier kiss—heated, needy. Knowing you don’t stand a chance against his tongue gliding over your lower lip, you open your mouth to him, slowly losing yourself in him. There’s really nothing easier than that.

Your hand moves to the back of his neck, pulling him even closer as your fingers dig through his locks, eliciting a low moan from him. This is a lot more thanks for your service than you’ve expected, but you find yourself unable to complain. Your mouth is far too occupied for that anyway.

It’s almost obscene how easily Astarion can undo your stays and by the time his hand finds its way underneath your thin shirt, your mind is long clouded by lust. Leaving goosebumps in its wake, his hand glides over your belly up to your sternum before it firmly cups your breast. The lazy pace of his thumb drawing circles around your hardened nipple has you aching your back, trying to ease the wet heat gathering between your legs.

Wet.

Somewhere very far in the back of your mind, you remember that you had a reason for coming to him earlier—way before you ended up on his lap, let alone underneath him. Let alone this damn wet. What was it again?

You break loose from Astarion to take a quick breath. Not wasting any time away from you, his lips begin to trace along your jaw, your throat, your collarbone; his wicked grin is painfully obvious against your skin. By the time you realise Astarion is scheming something, he’s already pushing his knee under your ass, repositioning you so that you can feel his hardness pressing against your core. You hiss at the sudden contact.

Ah, right—hiss! Lae'zel.

You throw your head back with a sigh as Astarion begins to grind his hips against you, making any thought of the Githyanki warrior evaporate quickly. Fuck Lae'zel and her sense of duty and honour. You can just sit out her wrath with Astarion right here, right now, however long it may take. It doesn’t really matter that you’re not sitting much, either.

But then again, maybe this is why your companions take offence at you the moment Astarion is stepping out of line, although you’re sure they would be biassed, too, if they knew how positively divine he feels—especially when he’s teasing the waistband of your trousers with his long fingers as he does now. Your hips move in answer to his touch, and yet…Fuck.

You groan. Not with pleasure but from your own sense of duty. The others trust you as much as Astarion does; that’s why they somehow thought it wise to make you their leader. Almost annoyed with yourself, you prop yourself up on one elbow, pressing your hand against Astarion’s chest, telling him to stop before you’re way past the point of no return.

He raises an eyebrow at you. His hair is messy and his lips are red and swollen from your kisses and by the Gods you want him to fuck you. It takes you a very long moment to gather yourself.

“Now that we took care of your issue,” you pant, tracing the shape of his left eyebrow with your index finger, “you might wanna go fetch water if you don’t want Lae'zel to wipe them off right away.”

Tilting his head, Astarion gives you a long look. His fingers keep digging into your thigh which has you grinding your teeth to suppress another sigh. He doesn’t buy your attempt at keeping order and peace, not when he can undoubtedly feel you trembling with need for him. You’re not even protesting when he leans back over you, one arm next to your head to support his weight.

“So, what?” he breathes against your shoulder before planting a hot kiss against your skin. And another. And another, as he is slowly kissing his way down your body. “You said you would redo them over and over and over again, didn’t you, darling?”

Holding your breath, you watch your shirt being pushed up the lower he’s moving down on you, gasping only when the crisp evening air caresses your exposed chest.

Astarion’s trail of kisses comes to a halt right below your belly button. His crimson eyes are looking at you expectantly but you’re too preoccupied with his fingers slowly undoing your trousers to make any sense of his wordless question. You swallow.

“You did say that, didn’t you?” He repeats, the amusement evident in his voice.

“Yes,” you nod rather enthusiastically. “No problem. Not at all.”

“That’s what I thought,” Astarion grins, finally freeing you of your trousers to see how pathetically ready you already are for him.

Duty can wait a little longer, you decide as you give yourself over to the pale elf. You only promised Lae'zel to remind Astarion of his chores, not that you would make him do them, you reason.

You’re not his keeper, after all.

344 notes · View notes

that-basic-simp · 6 months

Text

Christmas at Baldur's Gate

Karlach X Fem! Reader CW: None WC: 1.0k

Grabbing a stool, I stood up on it, trying to place the wreath on the mounted deer head that sits right above the bar in the tavern. The rest of the tavern was decorated and there was even a tree that sat in the back right corner where I walked back and forth from the bar and into the eating area of the tavern.

"Careful, Y/N."

"I'll be fine," I said, extending to my tip-toes.

Gravity wasn't favoring me today and I lost my balance, about to fall onto the hard wooden floor. Rushing underneath me, Karlach caught me and made sure I was alright.

"You should have let me handle it, darling," she said, setting me down.

"You did all the other decorating. I wanted to help," I sighed.

"I know," she said. "But putting a wreath on the deer? We should just put a hat on it."

I sighed and nodded my head, "Alright."

"Besides, I think the wreath would look better on the door outside."

Heading towards the door, I swung it open and placed it on the same nail that held the open and closed sign. Closing the door, Karlach got on the chair and placed a Santa hat on the deer, jumping down once she was finished. I made my way towards her and she wrapped her arm around my waist, pulling me close to her.

"There. Look better?"

"It does," I said.

"I think the place looks nice," she said, taking a look around the tavern. "Good job, darling."

I smiled as she leaned towards me and placed a kiss to my forehead. Getting prepared five days before Christmas was a bit of a rough time, considering some of the decorations we had gotten were either yesterday or today. Some of the things we looked at getting were already sold. Even some of the decorations were made by Karlach and I. And the others. Especially the little wooden reindeer that we had on every table. That was courtesy of Halsin.

"Y/N, do we have everything before everyone comes in tonight?"

"I think so," I said.

I was surprised everyone was going to be able to make it tonight. After we had defeated the Mindflayers and the Elder Brain, it has been peaceful ever since. Well, as peaceful as I can get since I live with Karlach here above the tavern. She was never one to settle down in a quiet place. I think the tavern helps her with that. It's not too quiet where Halsin or even Astarion might have gone. But definitely not as rowdy or noisy where Lae'zel went, considering she flew off on a dragon after our battle. It was a nice in the middle for Karlach and I was finally getting used to it.

"Wait, there's one more thing," I said and went into the back, heading up the stairs to where our little house was.

Stepping into our shared bedroom, I couldn't help but smile at it. I could easily tell whose side of the bed was whose. Of course, Clive gave it away, but without him, her side was always messy while mine wasn't as messy. Heading over to my bedside table, I opened up a drawer and found some mistletoe Shadowheart had given me. I was tempted to place it somewhere in the tavern, but that might initiate some awkward interactions. Even then Karlach would break it up. There was one point she had gotten a bit drunk.

There were two people who were fighting one another and she literally got onto the bar and jumped right on them, joining the fight. She broke up the fight because she was stronger than both of them. How she did it was she had both of them in a headlock and I walked out from the back, finding her like that. She saw me, immediately stopped and let them go. She apologize to me for what she did after she explained the situation, saying I was free to kick her out and never her let back. But once I told her she owned the place, she just smiled, nodding her head.

Instead, I placed it above the door that led to our bedroom. Once that was finished, I headed back into the tavern to find everyone was there. They all greeted me and I walked over to them, hugging one another. The night was pretty tame for the most part, since it was just us. We wanted it to be that way. No fighting, no tending to other patrons, and certainly no bar fights. We just wanted a peaceful night with one another. Just us so that we could catch up on how everyone has been doing. From the sounds of it, everyone was doing just fine and they were accomplishing their own things. As the night went well into the early morning, everyone parted ways for now. I'm sure we'd see them again. Karlach was a bit worried she wouldn't get to see them since her engine was still in need of a tune up. While Dammon provided a short term fix, it wasn't going to last the amount we wanted it to. Not the amount Karlach wanted to, but she didn't let those thoughts overwhelm her.

"You ready to head to bed?" Karlach asked.

"I was almost falling asleep when Halsin was talking about ducks," I yawned.

She chuckled, "Head on up. I'll take care of everything."

"Are you sure, Karlach?"

"Yes, I'm sure, darling. Go get your rest. I'll be right up."

"Alright," I said and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Karlach."

"Anything for you, darling."

I was about to go walk up the stairs, but I remembered about the mistletoe. I turned back around and walked over to Karlach.

"Something wrong?"

"Just got a second wind."

Together we cleaned out the cups we used along with the plates that held the small food items we made. Once everything was cleaned up and the lights were off, Karlach picked me up and carried me up the stairs. Once we reached the bedroom, her horn brushed against the mistletoe.

"What was that?" she looked up, finding it dangling from the doorway. "Who gave you that?"

"Shadowheart."

She threw her head back and laughed, "Of course Shart would have given you that."

I chuckled.

"But I don't need that to kiss you," she said, planting a small kiss to my lips. "Just say the words and I'll give you one."

"Noted," I smiled, kissing her once more underneath the mistletoe.

#karlach x reader #karlach #karlach cliffgate #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3

54 notes · View notes

gaytav · 3 months

Text

My Wound, There's No Cure

Pair: Lae'zel x Fem!Reader

Description: "How do you cure a wound when there's no cure to it?"

Words: 460

P.s: So sorry if it's not that great loves, but I wanted to post something today hihi

"At that moment, she found herself taking refuge in her beloved's tent... but she still felt the cold... the present emptiness, sitting by her side watching the Githyanki reminisce about what life was like when Y/n was still here. - It's so cold and dark without you here, my love, my wound...

Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered your death, she just wanted to close her eyes and make this nightmare end. Who would have ever imagined that the strong and fearless warrior Lae'zel would be sitting on the ground with a Y/n's shirt in her arms while tears streamed down endlessly.

She no longer cared about it, not anymore, it doesn't make sense anymore, nothing makes sense after your departure. - Oh my wound, you had healed and scarred my old wound that bled endlessly and tried to take away all my strength, you made me someone... better... but... but now I have a huge hole in my chest, my heart was taken from me without permission on the day I saw the life leave your eyes, when I felt the fever of your skin leave and all that was left was the freezing cold...

Her voice faltered at the end, her tears turned into heavy sobs, she bent over on the ground, resting her forehead on the ground and held Y/n's shirt close to her nose, remembering its sweet smell, trying to hold onto those memories, the memories of your laughter, your promises, of your love and how painful it was to feel the emptiness in her chest, the place you occupied.

Lae'zel let out a cry of pain, desperation, loss from the depths of her chest, and lying there on the ground was where Shadowheart found her and it was there where the half-elf lay down pulling the Githyanki into her arms, and there she remained silent because she knew the warrior needed to release that, this pain in her chest, she didn't need to hear pretty lies.

Her eyes, her delicate eyes that always sparkled when she saw you, were filled with fear, despair, Lae'zel wanted to take that look away from you, but it was already too late, she failed to protect the only good thing in her life, she failed to take care of your healing and now her wound will bleed forever until her death... death, hmm doesn't sound so bad... would she have you in her arms again?

- My love, m-my warrior... light of my day... I-I'm sorry... for not fulfilling our... promises... Her breathing was fast, her voice came out with difficulty because of the pain she felt, she held the face of her beloved Lae'zel knowing it would be the last time she would have the opportunity. - I l-love you... don't... forget me... the last thing you saw was the Githyanki's gaze turning into a storm of despair and everything turned dark.

Lae'zel perfectly remembers feeling your last heartbeat and at that moment an incomprehensible pain consumed her, a pain that doesn't leave her even after 2 years this pain doesn't go away, maybe it's her who doesn't let the pain go, maybe because that's the only sensation left for her to feel... at first the party was a mess after your departure, no one expected to lose their leader, the pillar of this suddenly structured framework.

Everyone "improved" in a way, of course they can't help but remember the heroine Y/n was, the heroine who sacrificed her own life for her family... but Lae'zel couldn't find that cure, the only cure she had is gone... forever, how can she improve from this... knowing she'll never see you again... that you'll become a memory and slowly everyone will forget about you... no, she can't do that, she couldn't do that.

That's why every day she finds herself here, in your tent, hugging the dusty cloths from your wardrobe... it was all that was left of you... there's no cure to heal the void you left in her chest..."

#baldur's gate 3 x reader #lae'zel x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 #lae'zel #lae'zel x tav

32 notes · View notes

sweetadonisbutbetter · 2 months

Note

Hi! I like to request a drabble/fic for Laezel x pcos!Tav(female)? PCOS is Polycystic ovary syndrome, some women have it and has them have hormone imbalances. This causes beards to grow. Can we have Tav (who always had a covering over their face to hide their beard cause they’re ashamed) try to shave it off to look “presentable” for when Lae’zel comes to their bed? This is taking place the night when Lae’zel and Tav sleep together the first time.

omg :0 yes!! i didn't even know this was a thing!! i will deffo try my best to represent this as best as I can and do your ask justice!! also u didn't specify what class you wanted reader to be so for the purpose of the mask, she will be a human paladin! (god isn't important) she will also have more of thick scruufy!!

Eat at your doubts | Lae'zel x Fem!PCOS! Reader

Relationship: Romantic Warnings: reader insecure of her looks (rememeber queens, kings and imperial highnesses, y'all are so beatiful and very much deserve ever ounce of love you reviece and more!!), reader cutting her facial hair.

You adjusted your helmet, uncomfortable with the way it was positioned. Trekking your way on the path, you couldn’t wait to head back to camp and take it off. You hear the chatter of your party mates as you all near your last stop, you need to buy a couple of things. Once in the grove, you turn to the group.

“Hey, I need to get a couple of things before we turn in. You guys can head back if you need to.” You say, your voice was somewhat muffled through the helmet. While unconventional at times, you found it easier to hide your face. Thankfully, in a group where everyone had their secrets, no one pressured you for yours. Everyone acknowledged you, before they dispersed, some heading back to camp, others finding something to do. You are about to turn when you hear someone call out to you.

“Istik.” You turn, to see that Lae’zel remains. You hesitate, unsure of what she wants. You weren’t going to lie to yourself and say that you didn’t harbor some feelings for the gith woman, you were fascinated with her. Her mere presence and intimidation were enough to pierce you through your heart. You turn to face her, letting her know that she has your attention. She doesn’t say anything, looking you over before stating what she wants. “I have a confession. I was too hasty to judge you. I thought you witless, gutless, unimpressively bland.”

“...What about now?” You ask, trying to keep your voice loud enough for her to hear it.

“Now, well- you have earned my respect, and more still. You’ve proven your wits. You are efficient and dominant, in and out of battle. You’ve proven your courage. I swear, you would tear the horns of one dragon to plunge into another.” She says, her voice growing ever so slightly more feral with each inkling of her desire. You feel your face getting warmer at her praise. While odd, your knowledge of gith, while extremely limited, made you understand that being the best soldier there was is the highest of compliments. You tense a bit, however Lae’zel doesn’t seem to notice. If she did, she didn’t make any effort to mention it as she continued. “And you’re hardly bland. Your scent alone is enough to make my neck sweat and my hair stand on end.”

‘Oh!’ was all you could think. You knew for sure that you wanted the woman in front of you. You rack your brain for possible responses that don’t make you sound pathetic.

“The feeling is mutual, Lae’zel.” You say, surprised you didn’t fumble your sentence. Wanting to return her praise, you continue, “You know how to set my heart racing. Seeing you covered in blood after a battle is when you look your best.”

“Good.” She says with a look that seems to show her satisfaction. You think she is done when she continues, “I want to taste you. Perhaps tonight. Perhaps later. But I want it all the same. Do you?”

“Uhh…” You freeze. You so desperately wanted to share yourself with her, however, there were certain…things hindering you. On the other hand, you knew that you would never get a second shot. Although hesitant, you agree. “Yes. I want to share my body with you Lae’zel.”

“Yes. Perhaps one night soon, I will come to your bunk and take what’s mine.” You flush a little more at her already laying her claim on you. You know deep in your heart that she doesn’t mean it in the romantic sense, but it flutters your heart all the same. “Until that night comes- I shall keep enjoying your scent.”

She leaves soon after, leaving you essentially a puddle. Your brain takes a while to catch up, and after snapping back to reality, you hurriedly turn to the inside of the grove. Rushing to the merchant, you make a list of what you need, adding more to the list. ‘I will need a dagger and mirror…’

▪──── ⚔ ────▪

A couple of nights had passed since your talk with Lae’zel. Since then, you grow anxious that she will come up to you with no warning and you will have no time to prepare. Much to your grace, and slight disappointment, there hasn’t been a night since when everything was silent. It was quite hectic, from the dream visitor to meeting Scratch and Wyll’s pact owner and the person who was hunting Karlach. However, it seemed today was going to be the first quiet night in a while. Lae’zel also seemed to notice this, as when the camp wasn’t looking, she pulled you in close and whispered in your ear. “Tonight is when I will claim what is mine. Be prepared for a long night.”

You nodded, and anxiously headed to your tent. Now you sat in your tent, with a handheld mirror and a dagger in front of you. Your helmet was still on. You bring your hands up to your helmet and leave them there for a moment, scared that anyone would walk in. However you knew that no one would, no one ever waltzed into your tent, however, you have this fear stilled into you that they could. Afraid of them seeing you under the mask. Even at night, when your tent walls were the only thing around you, you slept with something covering your face. You even made the extra effort of sneaking off to the nearby lake late at night every day, just to clean off any blood that remained from the battles. Lifting the helmet slowly, still fearful of someone wandering in. Once your helmet passed your nose, you took in the smell of the fresh air around you, the smell of the forest, dirt, lake, and everything overwhelmed you ever so slightly, you considered leaving it on and waiting for Lae’zel that way. You stopped that train of thought as soon as it entered your mind. Out of everyone at camp, you wanted her to be the one to see you. Taking the helmet off entirely, you take a deep breath of fresh air, the cool air of the night relieving you.

Placing your helmet down next to you, you reach for the mirror with a slightly shaky hand. You can’t bear to stomach the anxiety of seeing your face, since for as long as you could remember, you had avoided your gaze. You knew that if you wanted to do what you needed you needed to see what you were dealing with. In your reflection, you saw yourself, your acne, and your beard still as prominent as it was before the illithid had picked you up. You bring your hand up to your face, touching the scruffy hair that was along your jaw. It seemed that there was way more than normal, which made sense it had been at least a couple of weeks since you last touched your razor. You look at the dagger you picked up at the merchant’s.

While it was still a dagger, it looked fine enough to use as a razor. You reach for it and find a way to find the best way to shave without it being awkward. After some time, you managed to get comfortable, and you started to shave. While it was uncomfortable to shave with no water, you had to do with what you had. Making decent progress, you failed to notice that footsteps approaching.

“Istik, I have come to sate you and be sated.” Lae’zel opens your tent, startling you and causing you to nick yourself. You pull the dagger away from your face and bring a hand to where you cut yourself. Thankfully it wasn’t too bad, but it still hurt. Hastily grasping at the cloth you use to cover your face in the evening. You pressed the cloth to the lower section of your face, only leaving your eyes, and turned to Lae’zel, who was confused at the entrance of your tent. “What are you doing?”

You don’t say anything, instead opting to look at her. All your life, you have never had the correct answer to explain your situation. No doctor seemed to know what was causing you an abnormal amount of acne, irregular menstrual cycle, deeper than average voice, and the most evident feature, a beard. Physically, you were a woman; you had all the bits and pieces, but you also had the body hair of a man. You even strayed from relationships, throwing yourself deep into your oath, in fear of your partner being turned off by you. Lae’zel moves closer, before kneeling on the floor in front of you. Her hand reaches towards your hand that was holding the cloth. You panic and move back, causing her to growl and reach for your hand. Forcefully, she pulls your hand down, causing you to yelp in surprise and try to stop her. With the cloth no longer around the bottom half of your face visible, Lae’zel sees you in whole. You try to grab the cloth again, however, her grip is so strong that she helps your arm in place. She spends a while looking at you, and feeling ashamed you turn your head.

“You never said what you were doing.” Lae’zel’s stern voice makes you flinch a bit. Still looking away, you try to answer her.

“I…I was shaving.”

“Why?” Her question caught you off guard. You look at her, now confused.

“Huh?”

“What are you shaving for?”

“I just…” You trail off, confused as to how she doesn’t understand. “I wanted to look presentable for you.”

“Tas’ki. Did you not listen to me?” She says. You feel your face morph into further confusion. At your expression, she rolls her eyes and explains. “When I told you I wanted you, I meant your strength, your fierceness in battle. All you humans look alike to me. What does it matter to me if you look presentable?”

With the way she explained it, it made sense to you. Feeling foolish, you look down again. You hear her smack her teeth before she drags you out of your tent.

“Wuh- Lae’zel- Where are we going?”

“To be sated. I came to you to lay my claim on you, and I will before the sun rises. I will lead, you follow.” As she dragged you away from camp, you can’t help but feel free. It had been years since you walked into the night without any of your masks. For you to walk out without worrying about someone judging you. Hand in hand with Lae’zel, you felt your heart flutter at the thought that she accepted you. She wanted you. Regardless of your whole predicament, even if you weren’t desirable to parts of the land, you were wanted by her.

And truthfully? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK LONGER THAN I WANTED IT TO ☹️☹️☹️ I was partially researching it to PCOS to see how else it affected women and I wanted to incorperate that as well. Hope you enjoyed and really hope I did this ask justice!! it is also short so I apologize once more :(

#bg3 x tav #BG3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x tav #lae'zel x tav #lae'zel x reader #☾adoniswrites #PCOS!READER

34 notes · View notes

mumms-the-word · 3 days

Text

In Fathoms Below - Ch. 5

Ch. 5 - Dragon Turtle

Characters: Gale, Karlach, Wyll, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara, Gortash + other OCs; pairing is Gale x fem!Tav Plot: The island city of Nautera disappeared over 4500 years ago, if it ever existed at all. Now not a single, legitimate record of Nautera exists, save for one. The Nauterran Account. Long thought lost, it has recently been retrieved from the depths of Candlekeep’s archives and placed into the capable hands of one Gale Dekarios. With the Nauterran Account in hand and an eclectic team of Baldurians and other allies mounting an official expedition, Gale journeys to find the ruins of Nautera…but hopes to find so much more. A/N: Dragon turtle alert!! Will the team make it out of this encounter alive? Will they find the entrance to Nautera before anything bad happens to them?? Read on to find out, intrepid readers!

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | BG3 Masterlist | Read on AO3

“Tribute?”

Gale glanced over his shoulder at the room behind him. The submersible was tilted at a steep angle so that the floor sloped sharply downward, forcing most people to hang on to controls, pipes, and railings to try and stay standing. It was Minthara who voiced the question from where she crouched using the side of a control unit as her foundation.

All heads turned to seek out the vampire. Karlach was holding him mostly upright with a strong grip around his upper arm, her other hand hanging on to a bit of railing. The vampire’s eyes widened as he noticed all eyes were on him.

“Well don’t look at me!”

“I don’t think it will accept lives as tribute,” Wyll said. He had one hand wrapped around a pipe and was leaning out like a swashbuckling pirate, completely at ease with the new angles in the room. “Especially undead ones. It’s a dragon—the only language it speaks is treasure.”

“Well we don’t have any treasure to give it,” Gortash snapped.

“This entire submersible is coated in polished bronze and brass, Gortash,” Shadowheart said. “I doubt it will believe that.”

“Then our only course of action is to attack,” Minthara said.

“Attack a dragon turtle?” Halsin asked, twisting from where he was, his back flat to the nearly vertical floor and his feet on a series of pipes, to look up at her. “Are you mad?”

“Would you rather get eaten, druid?”

“It spoke to us first, perhaps we can respond!”

“I think it’s growing impatient,” Gale warned, as the dragon turtle turned its head again and narrowed its eyes.

A hollow-sounding, panicked voice suddenly rang out from a trumpet-like fixture on the wall. “Saer! The outer walls are cracking back here and water is leaking in! I don’t know how much go longer the bulkheads can withstand the pressure!”

“Gods-damned monstrosities,” Gortash growled under his breath. He shifted from where he knelt against the main control panels, his foot nearly wedged in the ship’s wheel. “Gale. You can speak to it. Convince it to release us.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” Gale asked, irritation and disbelief making his tone sharp. “Ask it very nicely?”

“I was told you were intelligent. Figure it out. Quickly.” He turned his head toward the rest of the room. “The rest of you, ready yourselves!”

“Battle stations!” Minthara barked. “Send word to the others—be ready for anything.”

The dragon turtle spoke again, its impossibly deep voice once more causing the entire submersible to rattle and shake.

Speak, creature. Who sends you?

Gale took a deep breath and got to his feet, planting one foot on the glass and the other on the metal control unit next to him. There was no way this dragon turtle could hear him inside the submersible, even if he shouted. It was clearly time for some good old-fashioned thaumaturgy.

He touched a hand to his throat and cast the spell—Fortior!—and willed his voice to be three times louder, almost as loud as the dragon turtle’s. With another deep breath, he shouted in draconic, “We are priests of Umberlee! Release us so that we may offer our tribute to you!”

Surely a small lie wouldn't make things worse. They just needed to get free.

The dragon turtle narrowed its eyes again and then gave another deep, rumbling laugh.

Ahh…not a creature, but a vessel. Priests of Umberlee, you say?

It tilted their submersible again, almost leveling it out. Gale had to scramble to jump down from the control unit back onto the floor without falling flat on his back. “Yes! Release us and we—”

The entire world suddenly tore out from underneath Gale and then slammed against him once more as the dragon turtle dragged the submersible through the water and smashed it against the rocky face of a cliff. Gale and several others flew through the helm, falling first to the floor and then crashing against controls, levers, wheels, and pipes as the submersible crunched against the rock. An explosion of pain bloomed in his side and chest as he was thrown against a set of controls, all sharp edges and hard metal, knocking the air from his lungs.

The dragon turtle let go of the submersible with a rumbling laugh. As they drifted downward, sinking slowly, black spots began to swirl in Gale's vision. He tried to find his breath again, willing his struggling lungs to take in air. As he struggled, he vaguely made out the dragon turtle's next words.

You lie.

“What the hells did you say to it?” Gortash yelled, climbing back up to his feet.

Gale clutched his side with a grimace and tried to sit up. “It—it doesn’t matter,” he gasped. “We’re free.”

Gortash stumbled over to a speaking horn on the wall and leaned in to yell, “Gunners! Launch the harpoons!”

“I don’t think harpoons are going do much against that guy,” Wyll warned. “Except make it angry.”

“I don’t care. Redhammer! All engines as high as they can go! If we can’t fight this thing, we’ll outpace it.”

But Redhammer, lying crumpled just a few feet from Gale, made no response. Gale’s stomach flipped as he noticed the unnatural angle of the dwarf’s neck. Across the room, two other pilots, a gnome and a human, lay deathly still, unconscious or killed by the brunt of being thrown about by the dragon turtle’s attack.

Outside, large spear-like harpoons shot through the water, launched from somewhere in the lower decks and sides of the submersible. Most of them bounced off or barely grazed the dragon turtle, but one shot forth right as the dragon turtle opened its mouth, sticking fast into the flesh of its gums. The creature growled, shrinking back, and lifted a clawed flipper to swipe at its face, clipping the submersible as it did. They tilted again, swaying and rocking.

“Redhammer!” Gortash twisted to look for the dwarf, then swore and took hold of the wheel himself, forcing the submersible to steady. “Pilots! Engines to—”

“Lord Gortash!” Another panicked, tinny voice burst from the horn on the wall. “Saer! The port side fins are damaged—bad. I don’t think—”

Another voice interrupted them, the voices mingling with a din until the second won over. “—starboard fins! I repeat, excessive damage to the starboard fins! Half of it’s torn off and—”

Yet another voice. “Saer! The rear bulkheads have burst and water is rushing towards the engine rooms! If we don’t get out of here fast we—”

“Gods damn them all!” With gritted teeth, Gortash let go of the wheel and dragged the dead human pilot over, wedging them beneath the outer spokes of the wheel to keep it from turning. “Evacuate the ship, now! All hands to the battle subs and cargo vessels!”

Flashes of light began to illuminate the waters as something else, cannonballs of some kind, shot toward the dragon turtle and exploded against its thick hide. Inside the submersible, the helm was a frenzy of activity as people rushed out of the room. Wyll swung down from where he’d been clinging to the pipes to help Gale to his feet as Karlach hefted the still-bound vampire over her shoulder.

“Come on, fangs, you’re with me!”

“Up you go, Gale, on your feet,” Wyll said, hauling him up. “Don’t fall behind!”

Gale didn’t bother gasping a response. He merely checked that his satchel was still around his body and that the Nauterran Account was still inside as he rushed after Wyll and the others. They clambered down ladders, down into a large cargo bay area. The vast space, now filling with water that already reached their calves, was lined with smaller submersibles and two medium-sized seacrafts—the cargo vessels. Each was shaped like a big metal fish in the same bronzy coating as the main submersible, but several of them were armed with harpoon guns and even a few cannons.

He saw Shadowheart and Lae’zel disappear into a smaller craft with another pilot while Wyll and Halsin ran ahead to help others. Gale swerved to follow Gortash, Minthara, Karlach, and her fanged hostage into a larger vessel alongside several others.

The minute they were inside, Karlach dumped the vampire into one of the seats that lined the wall and pointed to a seat on the opposite side. “Buckle in, soldier, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride! You,” she said pointing a clawed finger in the vampire’s face, “I’m unbinding you but you’re staying buckled in, got it?”

“Whatever gets me out of this madness intact,” he said, nodding quickly. She quickly cut through the bindings on his arms and then buckled him in tight as he was rubbing his wrists. She left his ankles bound and strapped herself into the seat next to him.

Gale collapsed into the other seat opposite them, fumbling with the buckles with shaking hands, sweat beading his brow. The pain in his side was impossible to ignore now and every breath sent a new wave of pain. The orb marking in his chest hadn’t stopped glowing since he’d stared down the dragon turtle through the glass, but now it throbbed in time with the waves of pain coursing through him. Outside the vessel, the main submersible shook again, as if something had broken or ruptured.

“Get us free of this damnable ship before it kills us! What are you waiting for?” Minthara barked from where she and Gortash sat in the cockpit of the submersible.

“Damn you, woman, I’m working on it!” he snapped, flicking a series of switches and pulling one of the levers.

Dimly outside they could hear the roar of the dragon turtle and feel the submersible shaking as the gunners continued to load and launch harpoons and cannonballs. A loud bang blasted toward them as two massive metal doors on the far side of the cargo bay swung open and then crumpled under the pressure of the oncoming flood. A torrent of water rushed over them, lifting them up, nearly toppling them over, sweeping away several people still scrambling to get inside the smaller subs. Within seconds they were completely submerged in seawater.

“Finally! Took them long enough,” Gortash said. He pulled another lever and something—the cargo vessel's engines—roared to life.

Gale twisted to look out of the front windows of their vessel just as they launched out from the cargo bay. Gortash steered them sharply downward from the submersible, deftly dodging around another vessel and dipping toward the sea floor. A great flash of light illuminated the waters around them, followed by the barely muffled sound of a massive explosion, sending out a wave of force that rocked their vessel violently. The dragon turtle gave a piercing screech.

“The submersible!” Karlach yelled, turning to look through a porthole on her side.

“Good,” Minthara said viciously. “Let’s hope it harmed the creature and bought us some time.”

The depths outside were chaos. Gale watched through the glass as the wave of force from the submersible explosion sent a gunner ship careening to the side and straight into a rock tower. The vessel hit the rocks and crumpled like tin. Before its lights flickered out, he saw the tower begin to crumble down over it.

All around them, the trenches were filled with a frenzy of flashing explosions and high-speed metal subs veering around stone columns, cliffs, and other submersibles, all pursued by an angry dragon turtle the size of a large fortress. Everything came in glimpses as lights from the subs swung wildly about, attempting to pierce the inky darkness enough to avoid the hazards all around them. Gale tried desperately to think of some spell to help in a situation like this, but his pain-addled mind was useless—inside an underwater submersible flying around at reckless speeds, he was useless.

“Gale!” Gortash yelled, over his shoulder, shouting to be heard over the din of others attacking the dragon turtle and its angry roars. His voice snapped Gale out of his thoughts. “What are our chances that this dragon turtle is guarding your entrance to Nautera?”

“Given all these destroyed ships, extraordinarily high but not a guarantee,” Gale shouted back. They swerved sharply again to avoid crashing into one of the dragon turtle’s legs as it turned in the water. Smaller gunner ships were flitting around it like flies, trying to shoot harpoons and exploding cannonballs at it. The beast swiped a clawed arm at them, catching one of them and sending it crashing into another. Gale forced himself to look away from the gruesome sight and back out toward the front of their cargo vessel. “If it’s here, the statues are lying on the sea floor—look for a stone head or an arm worn down by time and the currents!”

“And then?”

“You’re looking for a crack in the rock—a crevice or a wide split that tunnels downward into the bedrock! Follow it down and around and we should end up in the Underdark!”

“There!” Minthara pointed. “I see something amid the broken ships!”

Gale craned his neck to peer through the front windows. In the distance, faintly seen in the lights of their vessel, two giant statue heads rested against the rocky sea floor, one lying on its side. They were worn smooth by time, but there were still a few features that were instantly recognizable as humanoid features, marking them as distinctly different than the rocks and boulders around them.

“Yes! That has to be them! Look for a deep crevice—”

Another explosion, this one much smaller, rocked their vessel as another gunner was destroyed.

“Shit!” Karlach said, looking out of the portholes. “Gortash you gotta push this thing faster or we’re gonna be dinner for the big guy!”

The dragon turtle roared again, much closer and much louder, the sound one of rage and pain. Gale could vaguely make out words in the cacophony, which rang so loudly he and the others had to clamp their hands over their ears.

I WILL CRUSH YOUR METAL SHELLS AND SCATTER YOUR BONES TO THE DEPTHS!

It yelled something else, but Gale stopped trying to translate in his head. He gripped his satchel with one hand and the edge of his seat with the other, trying to keep himself from rattling around as Gortash pushed their ship to its limits, veering sharply around rocks and other vessels.

“Gortash! It’s gaining on us!”

“There!” Minthara yelled, pointing ahead.

Gortash didn’t respond. He dipped them suddenly downward, aiming for a wide cleft in the bedrock.

Gale clutched tighter to his seat, trying to talk himself out of a rising panic as visions of crashing at full speed into the rock clouded his mind. “Just rudimentary plumbing, it’s just like rudimentary plumbing, it’s—”

The vampire looked at him like he was going mad.

The roar of the dragon turtle was right behind them as they dove down into the darkness of the crevice. Its giant clawed flipper reached in after them, scraping them and causing them nearly to crash into the tunnel walls, but soon they were free—and driving dangerously fast in a very narrow tunnel.

“Gortash, watch it!” Karlach yelled.

Gortash pulled a lever and the vessel's side fins turned suddenly vertical, creating a drag effect that acted like a harsh brake, abruptly slowing them as the tunnel took a sharp turn upward. Gale and everyone else buckled into the vessel's seats were flattened to their seats and then banged around as they clipped the tunnel walls trying to turn and follow the snaking tunnels upward. Behind them, some unfortunate gunner wasn’t so lucky, crashing directly into the tunnel walls with another bright explosion. Gortash threw the lever again, manipulating the fins and engines to make it through the tunnels as they twisted and turned.

For one terrifying moment, Gale was convinced he’d been wrong. That these tunnels went nowhere except to a dead end and that they would crash into bedrock with enough force to spell instant death for everyone inside. He clenched his teeth so hard together he thought they would crack as they hurtled upward into deeper and deeper darkness—

And then all at once, they shot free of the tunnels, rocketing into open water. Gortash flattened the side fins again, dragging them through the depths and slowing them quickly. Seconds later, the water came to an abrupt end as they surfaced with an explosive spray. Gortash killed the engines, leaving them to bob up and down in the waves their abrupt surfacing had created.

Then…silence. Silence and darkness, save for the lights beaming out from the front of the cargo vessel.

“Did…did we make it?” Karlach asked, running a slightly shaking hand through her hair. Beside her, the vampire looked like he regretted ever climbing aboard the submersible in the first place.

“I think so,” Gale said, his voice somewhat weak. He pressed a hand to his aching side and turned carefully to peer out of the portholes on his side of the cargo vessel. Water lapped against the window, only coming about halfway up the glass. Overhead, there seemed to be nothing but space. This was no small cave or air pocket. It was a large cavern.

A moment later, two of the small gunner ships surfaced beside them, followed by a battered-looking third. Shadowheart and Lae’zel climbed out of the top, standing on the roof to look around. They bent their heads together for a moment before Shadowheart cast a spell on something in Lae’zel’s hands, creating a wide aura of light. Lae’zel threw the illuminated object into the darkness.

As it sailed through the cavern in a high arc, piercing the darkness around them, Gale could see arching rocky walls and hundreds of stalactites hanging from the ceiling. Just before the illuminated object plopped into the water and sank, still glowing, into the depths, Gale spied a rocky beach and the ruins of four towering, carved columns framing a series of hewn stone steps. The evidence of humanoid craftsmanship, though ancient, couldn't be more obvious.

These must be the ancient roads to Nautera.

They had found the Underdark path to the lost city. Just as the Nauterran Account said they would.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale #gale of waterdeep #my fic #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #in fathoms below #i love dragon turtles yall #they're dragons AND they're turtles #and this one sounds like jormungandr from the gow games so #he's just super neat imo

15 notes · View notes