Lewd

Lewd

how lewd...

Cozy

My completed modern AU art of a cozy Gale from Baldur's Gate 3!

Eepy

Sleepy Gale TvT

Damn you got good taste. I say that because it correlates with mine.

All mentioned Gales are great and my favourite as well

Just drawing some in-love Gales, which is my favorite type of Gales, besides smirking Gales, puppy-eyes Gales, confident Gales, passionate Gales, and sub!Gales.

Enjoy🫡

Ain’t no way I forgot to reblog this

Of Home and Haven (Ch2/6)

Chapter snippet: //You were indeed familiar with danger-inspired desire. The celebration parties after battles often ended with either you or your conquest unable to walk the next day. In fact, you were rather taken aback when he only wanted to practice magic with you at the tieflings’ party. It was equally puzzling and endearing, that he had wanted to share his educated art with you, a half-orc barbarian of all people.

He was right, your muscles did glisten. You couldn’t wait to make his too.//

Summary: A tender tale between an outlander barbarian and a scholarly wizard, navigating life, love, and belonging (aka. What "being together" means for them) in Waterdeep and beyond.

Pairing: Half-orc Barbarian F!Tav X Gale Mature

Word count: 3.3k

Thank you again @senualothbrok for being my beta and first reader!

AO3 link: Here

Chapter One: Here

Firstly, by some miracle, you got the job at the Aurora's Realms Shop. The lady with the clipboard was the one who Sent the message — Jina, a longtime saleswoman at the place. She is to be your shift partner and mentor, and you are to be both the counter clerk and the security guard. Turns out the manager has decided to cut one of the positions, and a literate half-orc is her perfect solution. You would appreciate it more if the salary were also doubled, but right now you take what you can get. At least Jina proves to be much better company than first impressions suggested.

Since the night that got you banned for life from the cultist-infiltrated tavern—not that you are particularly interested in visiting again—a month has passed. There have been three major changes in your life and Gale’s.

This has led to the much less desirable second change, which is that the time you get to spend with your fiancé diminishes significantly. Aurora's is open from dusk till dawn, which means your schedule is precisely the opposite of Gale’s, and really, most people’s. While he works a fixed seven days of a tenday, your moving shifts scatter across both his workdays and holidays. There are times when you have to rush out in the evening just as he gets back from school, and days when he is off work resting at home, and you are sleeping back your working nights.

At first, it saddens you to imagine him lying alone in your shared four-poster bed as you idly scan the empty storefront. Earlier that evening, when you bid him goodnight before you leave, he had been unsuccessful in hiding his dejected face, the force of his hug stronger than usual. It is not until later, when you overhear him and Tara arguing, that you realize at times, he has not been sleeping at all. You know he is scheming over something, but as you glance at the graphs, drawings and cursive scattered on his working desk, it seems realms beyond you. Some research, perhaps. You just hope it ends soon enough that you don’t have to knock him out by force.

Finally, there is the matter of your approaching wedding ceremony. Ever since your first meeting three months ago, Gale’s mother, Morena Dekarios, has taken it upon herself to direct the whole operation. Gale has the tendency to fuss over every single detail of the event, from the weather to the music, even fretting over whether the food is owlbear-safe. But with Morena’s firm leadership, even he has had to admit that he truly has nothing to worry about.

You, however, are relieved for another reason. You are a warrior, a fighter, but you will forever remember the day you first met Morena as the most nerve-wracking experience in your life.

----------

It was the third day after you and Gale arrived at Waterdeep. You two had spent the first two days in bed, not for your preferred reason, but to sleep away the post-adventure fatigue. Sometimes, Gale would shift and turn in his sleep, face twisted in phantom pain as he held his chest. The orb had been removed by Mystra, but its memory lingered to haunt him. You held him in your arms, slowly rocking back and forth, hoping to ease him back into sweet slumber. Other times, you would jostle abruptly awake, fangs almost bumping into Gale, to find out that he had been trying to wake you from your nightmares. You never remembered them, only the dread of losing something precious.

The third day, however, was a whirlwind.

“STOP.” You jumped up, fist ready, catching a startled tressym next to Gale’s face.

“Oh. Tara. Good morning.” You nodded, retracting your grip. She settled down and returned the nod. Between hunters, you two have always shared a sense of mutual respect since your unexpected meeting in Baldur’s Gate.

“I would say the same, Ms. Riversong. It’s time to rise, don’t you think? Mrs. Dekarios is going to arrive in an hour.”

“WHAT!?” It was Gale’s turn to jump up now, “Totally unannounced?”

“Not true at all.” Tara licked her palm with grace. “I delivered your letter about your return to her dutifully, and she replied, two days ago.”

The three of you stared at the pile of unopened letters underneath the door.

“Well, Mr. Dekarios,” you swore you could hear amusement in her tone, “I would suggest you start shaving your—”

“Thank you, Tara, for preparing us for such an important occasion. Now would you please excuse us, we need to change.” Gale declared, “Alone”.

“…As you wish, Mr. Dekarios.” She left through the window, presumably to escort the matriarch.

“…Well, what a way to start a day, wouldn’t you say?” Gale turned back to you, “…my love?”

Your brain had shut down.

----------

There was nothingin your life that could have prepared you for meeting your romantic partner’s parents.

It wasn’t like you’d never had lovers. While half-orcs are generally not seen as the type for marriage, they are rather popular venturing partners, bedtime stories to brag about. People who came to you usually looked for specific things they thought you could offer — rough, messy copulation with wild abandon — and they were indeed right. You had your fair share of sex as a mercenary, although you could never see those conquests as anything beyond tumbles in the grass. No point in getting attached when they could just leave, or die, the next day.

So that was what you assumed Gale wanted, when he told you that he ‘once read a book’ in the depths of the Shadow-cursed lands.

You were indeed familiar with danger-inspired desire. The celebration parties after battles often ended with either you or your conquest unable to walk the next day. In fact, you were rather taken aback when he only wanted to practice magic with you at the tieflings’ party. It was equally puzzling and endearing, that he had wanted to share his educated art with you, a half-orc barbarian of all people.

He was right, your muscles did glisten. You couldn’t wait to make his too.

The moment your crew arrived at Last Light Inn, you gestured for him to follow you. He trailed quietly behind as you led him to an empty bedroom. As he stepped in, you swiftly closed the door, locked it with an audible ‘click’, and ran your gaze hungrily over his physique.

He shifted, suddenly self-conscious. “…Hm,” he cleared his throat, “I suppose you are a step ahead of me! I was, uh, planning something more substantial for a romantic night. Something more magical, that is.”

You chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. He shuddered.

Over the course of time, you had learnt that he needed verbal cues more than you did. So instead of immediately devouring him, you asked, “Do wizards not fuck with their bodies?”

He flustered. You felt power rushing inside you, intoxicating.

You teased, “Are you a virgin?”

“Heavens, no!” he protested. “I-I was…well, it has just been a while. You know, after my…folly.”

His gaze turned sorrowful. That wouldn’t do. You felt for him, his year-long isolation. At that moment, you wanted nothing more than to remedy that.

“Then I will take the lead,” you assured him. “Do you prefer to fuck or be fucked?”

He looked like he was going to explode.

A moment later, he finally mustered up the courage to open his mouth again. This time, he held your gaze with new-found determination and gave you a speech.

“…Ta’V, my fearless barbarian warrior. What a fool I was when I told you of my unique reading material. Of course you would have first-hand experiences, possibly beyond my imagination.” He chuckled ruefully. “But with my poor choice of words I must have misled you. What I wanted was not mindless intercourse, pleasurable as that might be.” He paused. “I wish to make love with you, naïve perhaps, but I need to tell you this. I will never forgive myself if our first time was not based on this premise.” He took a deep breath. “I love you, Ta’V. You are very special to me.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. He was visibly shaking now but refused to back down.

So, you replayed his words in your mind again and again to digest them. What did that mean, in action? What did he want? You considered for a while until you knew what you should do.

“I see,” you said, and he seemed to be holding his breath. “Take off your clothes and lay down.”

Of all the answers he imagined he would get, this was apparently not one of them. Gale’s eyes widened in shock, but after a moment of consideration, he obeyed. You restrained yourself from ripping off his robe as he slowly started to undress, and once naked, eventually eased himself down onto the simple mattress.

You followed him into the bed, hovering above him. He was tense. You positioned your left palm on his head, stroking his hair to one side and tilting him slightly so that his neck was exposed.

“Do you trust me?” you asked, serious.

“Yes.” An instant answer.

So you buried your nose into the crook of his neck and took a deep breath, letting his musk fill your lungs. You had always wanted to do that, finding his smell captivating. You wondered why.

That was apparently sensitive skin. He wiggled, but you gently stilled him with your hold. It elicited a whimper and you smiled to yourself. As a reward, you licked a long stripe following the mark on the side of his neck, tasting his sweat. He properly moaned now.

“Please,” he begged. “Ta’V, I can’t— Please tell me what you are thinking right now.”

At that you frowned. What a strange request. Yet in his eyes you could see the last thread of restraint, as he desperately waited for your answer, refusing to lose control yet. The man was nothing but insistent, so you tried.

You traced his right nipple with your leathery fingers. “I see your nipple,” you observed. “Hardening. I want to suck it.” And you did just that as he watched. He threw back his head and groaned, loud and deep as if in pain, body buckling to meet your mouth. You continued.

“I see your chest hair,” you teased him with your nails, lazily tracing down to his navel. “They are curly,” you tugged them gently, “Adorable.” And he closed his eyes, frowning in concentrated ecstasy.

“I see your orb, bright.”

Suddenly his eyes snapped open. A hand flew up to halt your lingering fingers on his mark.

“Don’t,” he quietly pleaded, and you tilted your head.

“Why?”

He looked away. “I want this night to be perfect, not tainted by my impending doom.”

You considered that. “A warrior would wear their scars with pride. I see no difference.”

“But this is no scar, just a lasting reminder of my failures, consuming me.”

“Have you stopped fighting?” Your voice strained. “If not, then it’s no failure. At least not yet.” You turned up your palm and captured his hand. “Fight, Gale. With me. Live to tell this tale. Our tale.”

A gasp. You knew he finally understood your intention as his gaze returned to you, tears spilling as he moved your joined hands away and revealed his scar, a circle, perfect in every way. You immediately descended upon it, licking, sucking, groping. As his deafening heartbeat quickened it shone brighter and brighter and brighter, so bright that it blinded you, consumed your every sense, your very being. You were holding his hand the whole time.

On that night, you learned the power of spoken words.

----------

Morena Dekarios was a petite, round human woman in her early sixties. Her fingertips were not toughened in the way that Gale’s were by years of spellcasting, so you assumed she was not an avid magic user. But as you looked closer, you saw that the skin was discolored in certain parts—perhaps she worked with the elements? Possibly an alchemist then.

“My love?” Gale called.

You snapped out of your head. Morena had extended her hand out for you to shake, not to stare.

“Sorry.” You tried to flash a courteous smile, but then you became self-conscious about your protruding fangs. “I was nervous,” you admitted.

Morena threw her head back and laughed. “So was I! When I received the letter from my son a tenday ago, announcing that he had found the love of his life and wanted my blessings for the union, I didn’t know what to expect! Certainly not a half-orc like you.”

“Mother!” Gale protested.

“Apologies,” Morena said. “I didn’t mean it the bad way.” She sat herself down on an armchair and you two followed. “If anything, I’m more intrigued by how different the pair of you are! Please, if you would indulge me, what makes you find my son attractive?”

“Mom, this is not an interview,” Gale remarked, but there was curiosity in his voice too.

With Morena you felt you must answer coherently, so you fell silent for a moment. Gale shifted in his seat as his mother stared at you, smiling but insistent. A moment later, he decided to place his hand on your lower back, an encouragement.

“My mother is a human too,” you began. You had the room’s attention, even Tara opened her eyes from her comfy nest.

“She was living in human society but ran off with my Da—father, a half-orc barbarian. They lived in the woods, and I was born.”

Gale knew this part of the story, but you continued further.

“I was close with him. Much closer than with Ma. I looked a lot like him and not one bit like her. He trained me, fighting, wrestling, hunting, and at sixteen, I was sent away to wander in the wild.” You saw Morena frowning, so you added, “As half-orcs are destined to.”

You took a deep breath. “But on some days, when I see people, families, warm and beautiful, I think of Ma. She was beautiful too. She used to teach me please and thank you, to read, to write. I didn’t appreciate it back then. But I met Gale, and I do now.”

You recited the only poem you remembered, sung to you on a hot summer night. Under a sky full of stars, the breeze-like voice crooned,

White sheep, white sheep,

On a blue hill,

When the wind stops,

You all stand still.

When the wind blows,

You walk away slow.

White sheep, white sheep,Where do you go? [source]

----------

“You two should deliver this one by hand, together,” Morena says, holding the last wedding invitation.

Today is one of the rare days that you and Gale are both at home, away from work, refining the final details for the union ceremony happening in three tendays.

Gale has prepared all the teleportation scrolls for the guests as Morena penned invitations by his side. You and Gale came up with a list of the comrades you met during your tadpoled adventures who will receive an invitation. Before your companions went their separate ways, all of them had promised to come together again for you and Gale’s wedding. Even Lae'zel has promised to attend via astral projection. The only part left is your side, the people you want to invite — which means, only your parents.

Parents that you haven’t seen in ten years, since you left home at sixteen.

Morena is right. It is fitting that you deliver your parents’ invitation in person. Gale has repeatedly lamented that he wasn’t able to ask your parents for permission to marry you like a good-mannered suitor, and there is technically nothing stopping you from visiting them. The woods they live in are in fact just a tenday’s trek away from Waterdeep, and with Gale you can always teleport back and forth at a moment’s notice. You don't know why you are so restless.

Gale places his hand on yours. “My love, I will be right by your side.”

----------

You tell Jina that you are getting married and ask for a two-tendays-long holiday to visit your parents. She almost shrieks in excitement when she hears that.

Nine shifts ago she had told you that she is a single mother of two, and has never left Waterdeep in her whole life.

“Go!” Jina’s eyes are shinning with joy. “I will find someone to cover the shifts.”

“Do you think the manager will be fine with that?”

Over the past month, you had taken as many shifts as possible, to leave a good enough impression with your manager to cover this absence.

“Well, I will do what I can, sister.” She lowers her voice, having started calling you ‘sister’ three shifts ago. “But between you and me, I never understood why you wanted this boring job so much. You are clearly capable of much more exciting things. I wouldn’t even dare to venture out of the city alone!”.

You shrug.

“The stories I tell my sons are always about adventurers. You should see their excited faces! They’d be over the moon to finally meet a half-orc.” She sighs. “Perhaps it is our nature to want what we don’t have. The grass is always greener on the other side.”

You decide to invite Jina and her sons to your wedding.

----------

Thus, one fine summer night, you and Gale finally arrive at the edge of Trollbark Forest. To be precise, you two teleportedto skip nine days’ worth of journeying but opted to walk the last day to save more time for the reunion. You weren’t sure about that — in truth you have missed sleeping in a tent with him.

Gale makes use of the light breeze to clear his mind and prepares for the occasion, gifts ready at hand. While your parents don’t live inside the chaotic swarm-ridden area but in a clearer wood nearby, you still geared up thoroughly, happy to carry the Nyrulna again.

“Are you sure I am not dressed too casually? Am I presentable by your esteemed family’s standards?” He fusses over his not-so-dusty traveling robe. It’s purple, with golden embroidery showcasing Waterdhavian craftsmanship. Simple, elegant, proud.

For three days he has been consulting you on all topics about your family and half-orcs in general. You can’t really give a generalization on the latter — you have never come across a big enough group of your race to call it a culture; only what your father had taught you. Gale questioned the best gifts for half-orcs (to which you suggested that anything alcoholic never fails), languages he should speak (when you told him he must never speak Orc in front of Da, he couldn’t hide his disappointment; he had been practicing), and now, how he should look.

“If anything, I should warn you not to be too formal.”

He clears his throat. “Right. Any other details I should take note of?”

A shadow darts towards his face.

In a split-second you tackle him down, body shielding him as he gasps. The boulder smashes into the ground hard, dust rising around you.

You quickly leap forth and ROAR, a threat, a challenge. Those who dare to harm your treasure will pay. Behind you, Gale prepares a spell, quarterstaff in hand.

At the periphery of the misty wood a roar echoes yours.

“Big rocks are against the rules,” you call. The mist slowly clears up.

You squint your eyes to decipher the silhouette. A seven-foot-tall barbarian, great axe as tall as himself shining under the moonlight. Tense, ready to parry. He wants to play.

Laugher rips through the night like a thundercrack.

“RULES ARE FOR CHILDREN. AND YOU, MY GIRL, ARE NO LONGER ONE.”

TBC

Gale and his disco orb XD

Comments and feedbacks are very appreciated! Thank YOU for reading my story. Chapter three is on the way, featuring Gale meeting the parents, and mud-wrestling :D

Other things that I do

The pipeline:

Click Gale -> Talk about us -> “How are you feeling?”

I know the answer changes like three times, but his feelings are important, he should talk about them more

People out here playing bg3 and complaining that Gale talks too much. Jokes on you I’m into that. I am pestering him every night in camp and being disappointed when there’s no new dialogue. I am constantly asking how he feels. I live for the yap sessions. Tell me more about your tower and your cat and your poetry, magic man ✨