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#professor dekarios
trashmancer · 5 months
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More Professor Dekarios
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mermianar · 2 months
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some sillies
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hwathwugu · 21 days
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Gale Dekarios
Gunsmith and sharpshooter. Wanted by the patent office for Breaking and Entering, Intellectual Property Theft, and more.
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yourluciela · 3 months
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Tara Villain Arc
Inspired by this clip (couldn't find the original owner)
Edit: Forgot to draw the ring :'(
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deannamb · 1 month
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Professor Dekarios
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senualothbrok · 3 months
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Unexpected
Summary: You pay Gale an unexpected visit after one of his classes.
Word count: 1.4k
AO3 link
Disclaimers: NSFW. 18+. Smut. Professor Gale x female Tav/reader.
More disclaimers: Vaginal sex. Kissing/lip play. Semi-public sex. Chair sex. Sweat kink.
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You wait at the back of the lecture hall as Gale dismisses his class. Chattering pupils file past you and out of the door, bounding eagerly into the end of the semester. When his eyes meet yours, he grins so widely it is as though he has not seen you for weeks. You chuckle as you make your way towards him. The closing door echoes around the now empty room.
“To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” 
You greet him with a quick kiss.
“I was in town, and just thought I’d drop by and see you. I thought it might be quiet, now that classes are over.”
He circles his arms around your waist, pulling you close. His brown eyes blaze.
"I’m very glad you did.” 
You are suddenly aware of the state of you as you lean into his crisp tunic, his sandalwood scent engulfing you. Your dress clings to your curves, your flesh moist and swollen with heat. It is warm outside. You had broken into a half jog on the way, worried that you would miss him. Now, you are half drenched. 
“Gods, I’m sorry.” You swipe your hand across your forehead. “I’m a sweaty mess.”
You notice that he is nuzzling into you. You can feel his fingers fluttering against your hips as his breath tickles your ear.
“Are you?” he murmurs. 
His nose grazes your neck in little arcs, his hair brushing against your cheek. You quiver, your body already melting under his touch. He draws back, his eyes half-lidded. 
You recognise that look.
“No.” You laugh. “Absolutely not.”
He grimaces. He is pressing his body against yours, his hands roaming, searching, lingering over an opening in your bodice.
“Not here.” He is nodding, agreeing.
“Anyone could walk in on us, Gale. A student, even.”
“You're right,” he mutters into your shoulder.
Your mind is resisting. But your fingers are grasping at the bristles on his chin. You are fighting the urge to run them over all your soft places.
“I’d lose my tenure.” 
You tingle at a wet flicker in the dip of your collarbone. A hard heat twitches against your thigh. He buckles against you.
It is the knowledge of danger, you realise, the threat of discovery. It is the sheen of sweat on your muscles, the taste and smell of your salt. It drives him wild.
And his desire sets you on fire.
“Gale.” You tilt your head to him. 
“I know,” he rasps. “We can't.”
He crushes his forehead against yours. He pushes you apart, then wrenches you close again. You can barely breathe now as you rub against each other, grinding and pressing hard into his flesh.
He trembles as his tongue trails up your neck, your chin, the corner of your lips. Every inch of your flesh is throbbing. You shiver against him. It is becoming impossible to remain standing. You stumble slightly against the desk behind you.
“Gods,” he whispers.
He runs his tongue over the seam of your lips, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. You moan, clutching at his collar, raking your nails into his exposed chest. You suddenly remember where you are.
“We need to stop,” you manage.
He hums as you open your mouth to him. When he enters, you swirl and roll your tongue against his. He groans as you lap and suck at it, gently, then hungrily and urgently, and you weaken from the wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you.
He rolls his hips into yours. You can feel your slickness straining against the unwelcome clothing between you. As if he can hear your thoughts, he reaches for the clasps on your bodice, the belt around your waist. When he rips the fabric from your skin, you are only vaguely aware of your nakedness. There is nothing else but your ache to be tasted by him.
He flicks his wrist, sending a rushing hand across the room to lock the door. His gaze is ravenous as he devours every line and curve of your glistening body. You can feel his bulge surging against your leg, see the traces of desperation that leak through his breeches. He stares at the thick trickle that gleams around your mound and the inside of your thighs.
“Gods,” he moans. “You'll be the end of me.”
There is the hot whirl of his tongue on your neck, the maddening graze of his teeth that tingles. Your vision is blurring, blind desire blazing through you. When he draws back, you stifle a whine.
“Come here.”
He falls back onto the chair behind him, his legs spread wide, his eyes smouldering. His lips curl in a sideways smile as he unfastens the catch on his breeches. He wraps his slender fingers around his cock, beads already spilling from its tip. You tremble in a burst of wet heat as you watch the veins twitching on his shaft. His gaze does not move from you as he pumps it once, twice. You can feel the moisture leaking from your folds as you climb onto him. When the head of his cock pushes against your swollen entrance, you both gasp. 
“Do you want me?” he pants.
You whimper as you sink down onto him. His hardness stretches you wide, and he is so stiff, so thick, that it is a sharp surge through you. With a grunt, he spasms against your chest as you watch half of his cock sliding into you. 
You plunge your tongue into his moaning mouth, desperate for more of him. When he clenches your hips and thrusts up into you, you cry out. You bury your face in his hair, tousled and damp with his musk. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, hardened and tensed. As his girth pulses against your clit, you writhe with the tremors of pleasure. He grasps at your breasts as you rise and fall, grinding into him as he drives his cock deeper and deeper into you.
“Does that feel good?” he murmurs into your mouth.
You lick at his lips, feverish. You cannot think, cannot speak. All that exists is the burning inside you, his groans as he bounces your hips onto his cock, firmly, slowly, then faster and faster in a gathering frenzy. His gritted teeth, and the slick sounds of your ache, drawing towards its peak. 
In your haze, you are dimly conscious of a clicking sound. You are arching your back, your head thrown back in a convulsion of bliss, when he suddenly falls still. You continue to buck into him until you notice the panic on his face.
“The door.” 
There is a clacking and creaking, and you are scrambling onto your feet faster than you have ever moved in your life. You are dripping and raw and naked as you look frantically around you. But it is too late.
As the door opens, you see a flurry of his fingers. He leaps behind his desk. 
You are holding your breath, terrified, as an elderly man saunters into the lecture hall. You raise your hands to cover your breasts, and that is when you realise you are fully translucent.
An invisibility spell.
Gale’s hair is dishevelled, his cheeks flushed. He stills the heaving of his chest, leaning back in his chair. He draws his shoulders up in an imitation of calm, concealing his exposed groin under the desk.
“Professor Dekarios.” The old man frowns. “I thought you would have gone by now. I’m only here to do some tidying up, to make sure all is in order before we close the premises.”
Gale flashes a disarming smile. “Of course, Jarvis. That’s very kind. I’m just finishing up here, and then the room will be all yours.”
Jarvis shrugs, scanning the lecture hall. For a moment, it is as though he is looking straight at you. You are frozen with fear and shame. But he gives Gale a brisk nod and wanders towards the door.
“Enjoy your holidays, Professor Dekarios,” Jarvis calls out with a wave.
“And you, Jarvis.” 
He removes the spell as soon as Jarvis closes the door. Your heart rattles as you dart towards the bundle of clothes strewn on the floor, overcome with relief that Jarvis did not notice them. 
“We’re never doing this again,” you huff, bending over to pull your skirt on.
You feel his arm curling around you from behind. His cock is still hard, pressing into the cleft of your ass. His tongue flicks at your ear lobe, and your knees almost buckle. You turn to face him, your nipples prickling against his chest.
“On the contrary,” he breathes, wetting his lips. “I think we should finish what we started.”
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galebrainrott · 6 months
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WHO WANTS TO SEE PROFESSOR DEKARIOS!!! (Spoken like I'm goading toddlers to eat)
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justporo · 6 months
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Office Hours
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Author's Note: This - this is finally the promised wizard smut with Professor Gale Dekarios. I've written this as a fill for Kinktober Challenge. Please enjoy, while I go bury myself. I'm so excited to hear your feedback, because writing this was daunting. Happy Halloween!
Summary: You took up a PhD project under the infamous Professor for Wizardry Gale Dekarios but you also have a huge crush on him. Stuff getting a little heated at a party could almost ruin your future though. Things between you and Professor Dekarios are tense from there on out - until you go to confront him about it. (All characters are over 18!)
Pairing: Professor!Gale / Fem!Tav (You) Rating: Explicit Warnings: explicit sexual content! Wordcount: 8,2k (I'm so sorry...)
~~~
Another shot of tequila was placed in front of you.
“Bottom’s up, love!”, Astarion cheerfully exclaimed and clanked his own shot against yours. You drunkenly turned your head towards him. As always when you went for a night out with your best friend, he kept putting drinks (and a reasonable amount of water in between) in front of you while he barely seemed to get drunk.
“We’re not even bothering with salt and lem-lemons anymore?”, you drawled sluggishly. It was time to stop soon as long as you were still able to remember what you were doing.
Astarion didn’t even reply just kept swaying to the beat of the current song blasting through the club and clinked his glass against yours again to make you take it. And so you did.
You both threw your drinks back and shuddered when the liquor ran down your throats. “You’re really pushing me tonight, Astarion”, you screamed over the loud blasting music.
“Yeah well”, he shrugged as his eyes wandered back to the dancefloor and the hunk of a man he’d been dancing with almost the whole night – at least when you hadn’t danced with him.
“It’s not every day that my bestie has to celebrate that renowned PhD position with the infamous Professor Dekarios, is it?”, Astarion screamed back at you.
And it was true, it most definitely wasn’t every day. Because not only did you get the approval of the prodigy professor who was famously known for being strict and very demanding to be your supervisor. But you were the only one he’d taken on for a PhD project since… well, since he was in the position to do so it seemed. he’d t
But you had thus far always excelled in his classes. You’d been the very role model student during your time here.
And sure, you had worked your ass off for it, but it was well worth it. A finished PhD under a prodigy such as Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep would open you every door in the wizarding world.
It might also have helped that you had a huge crush on Professor Dekarios. The way this man spoke passionately about all things Wizardry and Weave had captured you from the very beginning. Just how his whole demeanor changed when he started talking about his research and how passionate he became. The way his eyes lit up when he got to talk about his work.
And then also: how he absent-mindedly let his hands wander through his hair when he was thinking about how to word something. How he let his thumb wander over his bottom lip as he intently listened to one of your questions and praised you afterwards for how clever it had been.
It was safe to say you had found yourself daydreaming about what else that man could do with that eloquent mouth of his more than once. Or how it would be if he praised you for more than just your smartass little questions.
“You know he’s here tonight, don’t you? Since it’s a faculty party”, Astarion kept on yelling into your ear, already grabbing the shot glasses to go get more.
“WHAT?”, you screamed – and this time it was clearly audible over the music in the club. You stared at Astarion in shock.
“Love, it’s your faculty and you brought me here, might I add. Shouldn’t you know about this kind of stuff? I saw him when I went to the bar”, Astarion yelled back with a mocking grin. Then he was off again with a naughty wink to get new drinks.
He was right. He was actually a history PhD student and had nothing to do with your wizarding studies. And still he always seemed to be better informed about these gossipy bits of information.
You gulped when you were reminded of what kind of revealing dress you were wearing tonight – black, short, low cut waterfall neckline. The thought that Professor Dekarios might have seen you in it and how you had danced in it – it scared you and excited you at the same time.
The fact that you were already solidly drunk definitely meant that it was leaning more towards the latter.
And then, sure as all Hells, you saw him: Professor Gale Dekarios walking into this part of club.
He looked a little out of place with his slacks and shirt-sweater combination – totally dressed for teaching, grading and researching and not for going down at the club.
Dekarios walked over to some people standing in a loose circle – people you realised now were other faculty members. You watched him intently – noticing the little details while you were drowned by increasingly unhinged thoughts. You saw that his shirt wasn’t neatly tugged in anymore, one hand was casually in his pocket while the other held a glass of red wine nonchalantly by the rim – letting it hang by his side. Sometime during conversation, he absent-mindedly dragged his hand through his hair. He always did that when he was deep in thought or having one of his passionate scholarly monologues during a lecture.
For all the scholarly nerdiness (and sometimes cute awkwardness) this man possessed – he was effortlessly sexy when he felt relaxed it seemed. And man, were you down bad for him.
You were still staring at Dekarios’ butt – that actually looked formidable in his slacks - when Astarion returned and slid another drink over to you. He saw how absent-mindedly you were staring off into the distance and tried to figure out what you were looking at.
When he did, a feral grin split his face: “Honestly, I’d fuck him if given the chance.”
“Astarion!” You whacked his arm as you were ripped out of your stupor.
“Don’t act like that, sweetheart, I know you would get on your knees so quickly for that man. I’ve had to listen to your horny yearnings for two years, remember?”
You blushed because he was right – as he sadly mostly was. The shit-eating grin stayed firmly on Astarion’s stupid face as he looked at you
“Yeah, as if anything would ever happen”, you simply retorted then, not wanting to indulge your friend’s insolent behaviour any further.
“And yet you keep wearing sluttly little outfits to all his classes”, Astarion drawled and his eyebrow twitched while he called you out. “I do believe even wizards have eyes to see what is right in front of them – even though it’s mostly just books.”
“That coming from a godsdamned history student is really low”, you replied and left it at that.
You were not having this conversation right now. So you settled for whacking Astarion’s arm again - which made him hiss at you that he hadn’t even said anything anymore -  and then grabbing the drink he’d brought you, downing it in one go.
“Maybe instead of calling me out you could double down on your other best friend duties and go dance with me again?”, you suggested after suppressing a shudder from the downed alcohol.
Astarion just replied with grinning at you and stretched out his arm in an elegant gesture towards the dancefloor, motioning you to get going then.
You went and danced, having even some more drinks while doing that. That man built like a massive tree eventually joined the two of you as he had been dancing with Astarion before. He introduced himself as Halsin and told you that he was a visiting researcher – only staying for a little while at your institution.
You exchanged some small talk per screaming while on the dancefloor. But shortly after it was back to your best friend Astarion and him dancing and eventually even making out with each other.
You didn’t mind at all – in fact you were happy Astarion seemed to enjoy himself. And you happily let them have their space and just let yourself be taken by the music.
You swayed and rocked to the beats, lifted your arms and rolled your hips – enjoying how good the movements made you feel.
A soft buzz coming from your hip and the tiny bag swinging there made you look at your phone after a while. It was Astarion.
“Gonna leave with our new friend if that’s ok with u? Wanna make sure he remembers his time here well!”
Gods, even after a night out with lots of drinking Astarion was still wasting time on being eloquent.
“Go get it bestie”, you simply replied and grinned at yourself. You were already excited to hear about it afterwards when you next up with Astarion for a coffee or something.
You received one more text from Astarion asking you to text him when you got home safely. You agreed with a quick text and then went back to dancing.
All the booze you’ve had was giving you the confidence to keep going on the dancefloor even though the club was finally emptying bit by bit. The songs played were less popular now but therefore more enthralling and so you let yourself get dragged along by the music.
Until you opened your eyes and saw that you were being watched. And not by just anyone.
A bit off the dance floor Professor Dekarios was sitting on his own now in one of the leather seats there, his legs spread. He was holding another glass of red wine, carefully placed on one of the armrests. His other hand was at his chin – motionless though. You could see his single earring glint in the flickering club lights. His one side of hair was fanned out around his head.
He sat there like a statue – just very intently staring at you, giving you an immediate feeling of being stripped bare before him. He wasn’t even reacting to you catching him staring.
At least that was what you thought. But then you noticed the prominent bulge between his legs, straining against the fabric of his slacks.
Your lips parted in silent surprise and you immediately felt how your nipples hardened and rubbed against your dress in arousal. You gulped and wet your lips while your whole mouth suddenly felt overwhelmingly dry.
When you looked up again you saw just the slightest sparkle in the eyes of your observer.
And that – probably in combination with all the liquid courage you had consumed tonight - was enough to get you going again.
Knowing the audience, you then began to dance again – putting in even more effort than before: fluid motions, making your hips roll more prominently, dragging up the skirt of your dress just a little too much as you turned around to give him a view of your back.
You let your hands wander up your front when you turned around again, deliberately letting them linger on your breasts and squeezing them as you dragged your hands up and feeling them softly jiggle when you let them go again.
When you looked at your watcher you saw how he had leaned forward slightly in his seat now. Bulge now even more prominently outlined against his pants if that was even possible. His thumb wandering over the bottom lip of his open mouth as he watched you – just like he did when you asked an incredibly smart question in one of his courses.
You were feeling feverish and heedlessly aroused, probably dripping wet too. The thought of just sauntering over and sitting on his lap and pushing your boobs in his face crossed your mind as you turned around again to give him more opportunity to stare at your ass.
And when you turned around again…
The spell was broken. Someone had come over to Dekarios and engaged him in conversation. You saw how he had awkwardly placed his one arm over where his testament of arousal was probably still clearly obvious. He didn’t acknowledge you with a single glance anymore.
And you felt like someone had poured ice cold water over you. The heat of desire and lust quickly replaced with the heat of burning shame. You felt cheap suddenly and very self-conscious. At least the club was so empty now that mostly anyone else wouldn’t have noticed – or they’d been way too out of it to care.
You stormed off the dancefloor and out of the club, already regretting how you had it let come to this. Hoping you wouldn’t have just ruined everything you’ve worked so hard for.
Six months later…
Stuff had mostly went backwards and downhill from that party night on. Although Astarion had congratulated you and while he had wheezed and applauded you when you had told him about what had happened after he'd left. But you had barely been able to eat up your shame to resume attending Professor Dekarios’ lectures. Your keen sense of duty being the only thing that forced you back there after you had allowed yourself to miss a few classes because you wouldn’t have been able to handle it at all.
And when you had finally managed you had been smitten with completely being ignored by the man itself. He rarely acknowledged you anymore in his lectures, brushed over your questions and avoided you at every cost. That meant barely any eye contact, not even when he had to speak to you in public, no communication on your research project whatsoever and he mysteriously managed to never meet you walking around campus.
You had felt guilty and afraid at first – fearing that at some point you would just receive a formal letter that told you that you and your appointed studies were dropped without further notice.
But when that didn’t happen, you couldn't also help to feel at least a smidge of anger whenever you thought about it: obviously you had been trying to commit yourself to forget what had happened and start working on your research project. Why did he have to insist on making it awkward?
You wouldn't bring up the topic, certainly. You were prepared to just act like nothing ever happened at all – even if you would remember it every single time you looked at the man. Forever reminded of the shame of that moment; but also: the desire he had looked at you with and the lust you had felt for him.
But you'd be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit that you were mostly just majorly worried. Not only because of how he was behaving towards you in public but also because of how it impacted your project. Not once had you spoken about your planned research.
So you had started on it alone. Spent countless hours researching literature, trying to find the right focus for your project, marking off topics and theories. You had worked on your exposé for the last couple of months now – once you had gotten over the fear of just being dropped like a hot potato. And you had sent it in weeks ago and not received a single shred of feedback. Which meant that, despite being pretty sure that you did good work and put in the necessary thought, finesse and care to let it live up to Professor Dekarios’ standards, you were worried sick that you wouldn’t be able to go anywhere with it.
You really feared that what you had thought first after the party had become true: you fucked up your once in a lifetime chance at breakthrough research about the Weave. And on top of that you had ruined your relationship with someone you deeply admired.
But recently shame and guilt had mostly subsided to allow feelings of rising anger. You came back to the thought of how ridiculously he behaved: if you were an adult about it all you would have hoped he would be too. If he would even talk to you at all – you’d take being screamed over this horrible silent treatment any day.
And after sulking in your own misery for way too long, you found it was time to confront him finally. You probably wouldn't exactly be the bigger person about it - but at least you wouldn't be the one running away.
When the next date for his office hours came around, you threw on some of the nicest clothes you had. A low cut blouse and faux-leather pencil skirt you knew your ass looked amazing in - at least Astarion always whistled and affectionately slapped your butt anytime he saw you wearing it.
You knew you were absolutely pushing it but that was exactly what you wanted: forcing this godsdamned prodigy wizard to man up and either tell you off for good or just... settle the unfinished business. Either way would be fine for you by now, you just wanted to be out of this limbo state.
You made your way over campus to his office, in your head already riling yourself up to be appropriately angry when you confronted him. Stomping over the university grounds while you imagined countless scenarios and outcomes and already felt good about your decision to finally take action.
But your righteous fury hit some bumps quickly.
The first thing that took you aback was the small sticky note at his office door telling anyone to just come in and that he'd be back very soon.
This was almost enough already to take the wind out of your sails completely. You had hoped to throw open his door dramatically and scream at him to either give you proper feedback on your exposé or just stick it up his godsdamned wizard arse.
You swallowed and tried to retain your anger as you opened the door.
You had only been to his office a few times before you had taken up the PhD project.
It was beautiful, a dream for anyone who was in love with magic and books and studying: the walls were lined with dark bookshelves and loads of magical trinkets, just anything imaginable. Even though dark wood dominated the room it wasn’t gloomy but rather cozy and welcoming.
The eye was quickly drawn to the huge wooden desk centred at the back with a huge window behind it. Stacked on it were books and papers. Dekarios believed in being old school when it came to his studies and work, you knew as much.
You were in awe - and absolutely jealous.
"Hello visitor, Mr Dekarios has just gone out to get coffee", you heard a voice from somewhere behind the desk.
You were only shortly confused because the voice quickly turned out to be Tara, Professor Dekarios' tressym that lived with him, when the gentle beast jumped up on the desk. Only once before had you had the pleasure of speaking with her - she was truly a gentle and very sweet soul.
"He will be back sho-. Oh, it's you!", she said and interrupted herself. Her long fluffy tail started swish-swishing behind her while she sat down on the very middle of the desk. Her yellow cat eyes observed you cautiously – but not unfriendly.
Your brows furrowed. You couldn't believe though that the small creature would actually remember you from just speaking with you once.
But it seemed the tressym had read your mind on that because she angled her head as you came closer and then said: "Mr Dekarios speaks a lot about you, you know."
You would have given a good amount of gold to be able to read the expression on the cat's face better.
"He does?", you answered dumbfoundedly. "Because he hasn't really talked to me in actual months." The fluffy tail flicked forcefully around once when you said that but then Tara just kept looking at you.
"Of course, he does! He basically never shuts up about you. And I'm pretty sure he almost never stops thinking about you either, it's uh-"
The tressym's tail flicked around even more and she worked her front paws around, almost as if she was shuffling around awkwardly.
"A bit unnerving sometimes", Tara finished and cocked her head again, looking up at you curiously.
You felt yourself blush and desperately tried not to think too much about what the creature could have meant.
"Although, I have to say, I fear you kind of messed with his mind that night some months ago even though he wouldn't tell me exactly what had made him so... upset. And then of course he had his own bad experiences in the past when he was in your position. But Mr Dekarios tends to forget that he's quite a different person than his former... acquaintance."
You could barely believe your ears. Also you were probably absolutely tomato red from your neck up. You did not exactly know what had happened to the anger you had come here with, but it surely wasn't present anymore - at least for the time being.
The fact that you seemingly were a predominant thing on the mind of your professor was disarming to say the least. And also you had the feeling that the tressym had just let you in on some quite personal stuff about Professor Dekarios although you could not make sense of any of it.
When he had been in your position? Former acquaintance? What was that supposed to mean?
The subject matter chose this exact moment to enter the scene.
"Tara has anyone...", Professor Gale Dekarios said while he flung open his office door with a coffee in his other hand.
His mouth immediately snapped shut again when he spotted you as you had turned around at the sound of the opening door.
You stared at each other for a very long moment.
"I'll leave you two alone, excuse me", Tara said cheerfully, jumped off the desk and sauntered out of the room through the door that was still being held open by the wizard. You weren’t entirely sure but you thought you heard Tara hiss “be nice to her, I like her” in passing to her wizard before she slipped out the door.
Tara's departure helped you both out of your stupor. Dekarios closed the door behind himself and awkwardly kept standing around at the entrance of his office. Meanwhile you crossed your arms over your chest and felt at least some of the anger return at the sight of him.
"Tav", he said. His tone was defeated and you could see his shoulders visibly slump. It easily ignited the rest of your fury in you again.
"Professor Dekarios", you almost spat.
"Please. Just call me Gale."
And snap - the anger was gone again. It was ridiculous how easily this man could change your mood just like that.
Gale started to walk over to you as you noticed that he was wearing almost the same thing he had that night at the club. You couldn’t help but blush.
The wizard's brown eyes were filled with a wild mix of emotions you couldn’t quite interpret as he came closer. He ran his free hand through his hair in a nervous gesture, making his single earring swing around as he brushed against it accidentally.
You swallowed and lifted up your chin - not wanting to give in to him and his beaten puppy behaviour.
"I guess it was about time we talked, wasn't it?", Gale said when he was standing almost right in front of you.
He leaned around you to put down his coffee in a to-go cup on his desk.
You couldn't help but to catch his scent: soft cologne, the smell of books, the fresh coffee he had been carrying. Involuntarily your lips parted.
But you quickly bit down on them, you wouldn't lose composure now.
"You think?", you spat when some anger flared up again. You immediately regretted it. The last time you had your whimsical emotions take over had been the instance to get you in all the mess.
The anger was mirrored in Gale's eyes for a short few moments. Then he calmed down again quickly and just sighed defeatedly.
"You're angry with me", he simply said. His voice was deep and warm. He was now standing directly in front of you. His gaze directly on you. And you saw how his eyes flicked down and up again. Several times.
You felt that you lost the grip on your anger with the way he looked at you so sadly. So you decided to make a last ditch effort before you would probably just break down crying or running from his office – and all of this would have been for naught.
"Yes, I am angry with you", you almost yelled at him. And you forced yourself to be done with being taken aback by small details now.
Before you could think better of it you launched into the rant you had long prepared: "You took me in as you're PhD student, so you promised to help and supervise me with my research. I worked my ass off in the last months. I sent you my exposé which is - as you might know as a scholar yourself - quite critical to get started, or find scholarships for that matter. I did a lot of research already. I had countless sleepless nights. My caffeine intake has become more than unhealthy. And never ONCE did I receive an ounce of your help." You really made yourself more enraged now as you kept talking. Finally letting it all out felt incredibly freeing.
Gale's eyes mirrored what you were feeling. You were certain, he was probably just as upset as you, but you couldn't care less in this moment.
"And if all of this is caused by that one night at the club, the fucking faculty party, might I tell you: seriously, fuck you! I've seen exactly how you looked at me! I didn’t just make an arse of myself, you did too! And if you can’t handle that fact, either tell me to just go fuck off and I'll be gone or man up and stop avoiding me or..."
You let the last part hang up in the air.
Gale's eyes were ablaze by now. He stepped in closer to you. You had never seen him be this intense. Not even when he was talking about his most passionate areas of his work.
"Do you really think I act like this because it is fun for me?", he snapped at you, his tone had taken on an authoritative tone. A tone that usually only came out when he was putting someone in his place – the scholarly way.
He kept walking towards you, making you take steps back. "You might think it was easy for me the last couple of months. But I had to look at you, every godsdamned lecture when you wear stuff like this." He gesticulated at your outfit, licking his lips and letting his eyes drop to your dangerously deep neckline. "Making me remember how you danced for me that night. Making me think of what might have happened." You stumbled against the edge of his desk, unable to keep your distance from him now.
And he was still coming closer, until you almost lost your balance trying to keep some space between the two of you, almost falling onto the piece of furniture behind you. You could already feel the heat his body was giving off.
He still didn’t stop, until there was in fact not a mere inch between you and his body pressed against yours even though you tried to lean back on the table.
"I am only trying to protect you", Gale continued his tone now pleading, his eyes soft and full of worry – but not hiding what lay beneath that. He was so close you could see every little detail of him: the lines of the mysterious tattoo swirling over his neck and cheek, the scruff of his beard, his soft eyes and the strands of grey in his hair, the subtle wrinkles around his eyes or the worry lines on his forehead.
But this made you angry again. Who was he to tell you what you needed protection from? But then you shortly remembered Tara's words – a flash through your mind.
But you were set on your course now. The way your body reacted to the closeness of this man you’ve had so many fantasies about being the proof you hadn’t really needed anyway.
And before you could try and think better of it you exclaimed: “Or – instead of patronising me – you could do us both a favour and just fuck me, so we can both get the hells over with it!”
You were shocked by your own courage and rashness, but it was quite apparent that this man made you do things: once that night in the club, now – not to mention that he was a major part of why you chose to pursue a PhD in the first place.
Gale’s mouth dropped open in astonishment and surprise for a moment, a sound somewhere between gasp and moan left his lips.
Then he regained his senses, desire flashing in his eyes, and he flipped you over, bending you over the desk.
It was your turn to gasp and moan in surprise. You barely caught yourself with your arms, accidentally pushing off some papers and books in the process. Also knocking over the cup of coffee that just fell on the floor and spilled on the floor.
Gale immediately secured your position against his desk with his own body, pressing his hips against your backside you hoped looked just as delicious as you had planned now.
Your thoughts on that immediately disappeared though when you felt Gale’s erection press against your ass. He was already rock-hard, making you gasp more.
“Are you really sure this is what you want?”, he asked with a husky voice. You merely managed to nod and let out a breathy moan, enjoying how quickly had turned around again – this time in your absolute favour.
“Gods know I really want to see what that brain of yours can do but I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit that I have to say the same thing about your delectable butt you keep presenting to me”, Gale admitted in a haughty voice as he pressed himself harder against you, making the edge of the desk deliciously bite into your thighs.
You swallowed when what was happening started to settle in rationally – not just carnally. At the same time you could feel how helplessly needy you already felt, how lust pooled between your legs and flooded back again through your whole body. You had thought about this for so long but now being at his mercy felt better than anything your mind could have come up with.
Gale’s hands wandered over your ass in your skirt but the caress was still hesitant, although you could feel that the wizard was already breathing raggedly – the rise and fall of his body pressing you harder against the wood.
“Are you really sure you want to do this? Say it. Please!”, Gale whispered hoarsely, asking you again, although you could already feel how he had started to move one of his legs in between your thighs now and how his hands had wandered below the hem of your skirt and readied themselves to hike it up.
You pushed yourself up from the desk, turning around to him give him the most incredulous of looks: “I had six months to decide if I was sure about this, Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep. I was probably already sure of it when I saw you sitting in this nightclub flaunting a major erection and I made my boobs jiggle for you! I came here dressed like THIS.” You almost yelled at him. How did this idiot have you bent over his godsdamned desk and still hadn’t gotten the fucking memo?
“Well, no need to yell at me – I can hear you quite perfectly from here, thank you”, Gale replied and threw on his snappy professor voice that usually only those students got that annoyed him. He slapped your butt too and made you shut up really quickly before you could make a sassy remark.
Then he turned around slightly and you saw how he effortlessly used mage hand to turn the lock on the door. And with a quick incantation it began to glow also. You knew that spell and knew also that it wasn’t an easy feat to accomplish. Your mouth fell open.
When Gale turned back around again he took a deep breath and ran one of his hands through his hair, closing his eyes for a short moment and making the strands of brown with some grey fan around his face – all while still having you immobile between his body and his desk. Your mouth felt dry watching him do that – just casually locking you in his office with him; with one of the most powerful lock spells known to the wizarding world. And he didn’t even blink.
“There”, Gale simply said and rolled the tongue around in his mouth, letting it click once. “Point of no return now because the door is locked and sealed, is that what you wanted?”
You didn’t reply just stared at him hungrily, the lust inside basically becoming feral. You were still only turned half around, pushing up on the surface of the desk. You used the little space for movement you had and rubbed your ass against Gale’s crotch hoping that that would convey your answer to his question.
The wizard groaned and you watched his eyes roll back when he felt the friction against his erection.
“Do you even have an idea how many times I dreamt of this? Of this exact scenario?”, Gale pressed out as you felt the tingle of magic suddenly at your back and you noticed what must be another mage hand wander up your spine, softly caressing you, stroking up to the nape of your neck and curling itself in your hair.
Meanwhile Gale’s real hands were both free to hike up your skirt slowly, the feeling of his fingertips on your naked thighs making you shiver in anticipation.
“Do you know how many times I did?”, you gave back teasingly.
The mage hand in your hair yanked on it and the wizard’s hand came down on your butt again – a lot harder this time. You moaned helplessly as you felt jolts from the pleasureful pain run through your body and incinerating the fire inside you even more.
“This is not a competition!” There was the professor voice again. You tried to rub your butt against him again and earned another firm slap on your behind. Oh, you could keep going just like this for literal hours.
You heard Gale softly chuckle and then moan at your increasingly unhinged state. It seemed he was finally getting into this instead of worrying about you. And this is exactly what you wanted.
And then, to your surprise, you felt another instance of mage hand starting to wander over your body – dragging up one of your arms with which you had been supporting yourself so far and pressing it onto your back.
“In fact, do you know how many times you made me lock myself in my office after lectures because you always sit there, first row, wearing something that makes me stare at your breasts and then ask the most brilliant questions?”, Gale drawled, his voice dangerously low now. The one hand in your hair tugged on it again, making you lift up your head and look at the professor.
“I don’t know, did I?”, you answered and bit your lips and tried to turn around a little so you could force the aforementioned breasts into his field of view.
Your insolent behaviour earned you another slap and low growl from the wizard before he thrust his hips against you and made you fall prone on the desk surface now.
A third mage hand then started to work on your body, pushing you down until your chest was firmly held down on the desk. Then it grabbed your other arm until both of them were firmly held behind your back, meaning you were now absolutely immobilized and at the wizard’s mercy.
Your boobs were squished against the wooden surface, hurting in a way that was just the right amount to pleasure you. You whimpered in pleasure and closed your eyes trying to maximise your awareness of your body pressed against his.
You knew that you were dripping wet now. And you were desperate to let Gale find that one out.
“I believe, you need to be put into your place for all that, don’t you agree?”, Gale groaned as his hands finally dragged up your skirt over your buttcheeks and revealed your already completely soaked underwear.
“Uh, I mean unless… you’d rather…”, the wizard stuttered as he looked at your naked butt and how wet and ready you were for him, how his magic held you down – the mage hand at the back of your neck making you whimper now with how pleasantly hurtful it tugged on your hair. The sight of you below him had the usually eloquent professor quite at a loss for words.
You knew he was only trying to make sure you were fine but right then there you felt so desperate to just finally let your fantasies come true that you were almost ready to yell at him again to just get on with it.
“Please”, you simply whispered. And that was enough to break the wizard out of his paralysis. In a sudden change of position he knelt behind you, his hands spreading your butt for him as he pressed his open lips and tongue to your wet but still clothed core and began to suck.
You gasped in surprise and your head jolted upwards, straining against your magic shackles. But Gale’s mage hands were holding you firmly in place, resulting in you just squishing your breasts against the table harder and feeling how they and their hardened peaks were smushed against the hard surface, making you moan harder.
Gale kept giving your wet core and clit attention, finally pushing the soaked lacey piece of fabric that was in his way to the side and letting his tongue work on you – sinking it into you, then letting it circle around the sensitive bud down there.
The man was definitely as good with his tongue as you had hoped for – better even. Turns out the tongue wasn’t only good for spells, incantations or scolding naughty students (although that was probably his specialty).
He kept going, turning your whole being into a whimpering, shivering mess with how the tip of his tongue flicked over your clit and his hands squeezed your ass forcefully.
Desperate for his caress, you arched your back as hard as you could, desperate to get even more friction out of this. When you pushed your hips back even further when you were already close to an orgasm, Gale withdrew from you, leaving you to feel suddenly empty and cold.
You whimpered at the loss but didn’t trust your mind enough to form coherent sentences to make a sassy remark at him. You tried to turn around more to look at Gale and suddenly felt that the mage hands holding your arms behind your back had disappeared. In the same moment you heard how the wizard was undoing his slacks. Your eyes widened.
Now being allowed to do so you turned to watch as Gale let his erection spring free out of his pants. Your lips parted at the sight while Gale watched your reaction intently with a subtle hint of a smile on his face. You might be dripping wet for the wizard, but the wizard was hard as granite for you.
He stroked himself a few times and moaned while you kept staring at his hardness and felt the urge to feel him, all of him, become almost unbearable. Gale watched you, observed the carnal need in your eyes.
“You want me to-“ “Just fuck me already, Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep!“
This time the man needn’t to be told twice. He closed the distance between you. All his magic little helpers had disappeared. Now it was only him when he pressed his body against you again. His hard length fitting and pressing nicely between your buttcheeks.
He moved it down to let it slip along your wet core. The sensation of feeling his cock rub against you already almost making you insane. His hands grabbed hold of your hips as you pushed yourself up against the desk as you braced yourself for what was about to come.
Gale kept toying with you a little more before he entered you with a single movement – thrusting hard. You moaned loudly and let your head fall down. The first movement had already made the table shudder. You desperately tried to get accustomed to the feeling of finally being filled to the brim by this wizard.
“Gods, I want to fuck you until everything on this desk is knocked over”, Gale groaned and you could actually feel him twitch inside you as he promised you that.
“Better get to work then, Professor Dekarios”, you gave back with a breathy moan and squeezed your muscles around him. That earned you a deep growl and another hard thrust – oh.
“You enjoy it, when I call you that?”, you teased and squeezed around Gale’s cock again. Another growl, but not as feral as the one before.
“Fuck me then, Professor Dekarios, right on your desk”, you tried and almost regretted it when the wizard started to actually savagely pound into you – there were no pauses in between it anymore. He thrust into you slowly but forcefully, setting a steady rhythm. Every thrust taking you by surprise, unable to getting used to this sensation of being fucked by your professor.
You felt him hit pleasantly deep inside of you and thoughts in your head weren’t coherent anymore as you simply felt yourself give in completely to your lust and this man.
You felt the tingle of magic again right then and there, between your legs, starting to rub on your clit while the wizard kept thrusting into you - hard. So hard that he was about to keep his promise – books and papers fell over and then off with each of his movements that brought your bodies together. Until… out of the corner of your eye you saw a few papers making their way off the table. They looked awfully familiar.
“Wait, is that my exposé? And annotated? So, you did read it!”, you exclaimed with sudden reestablished coherent thinking. No matter the state of heedless need and pleasure you were in – you couldn’t let this go uncommented.
“Of course - I did - it was brilliant!”, Gale answered breathlessly in between his movements, not letting up on his thrusts. You squealed happily.
But then the mage hand between your legs, pleasuring your clit, suddenly pinched it, making you squeal again – but this time in pleasure and pain.
“We can talk about this later!”, Gale said with his scholarly voice again. And you were drawn back into how he was fucking you on his desk. Although you highly doubted you would be talking about anything soon.
He kept going while the mage hand at your sensitive core was almost driving you mad. The mixture of its teasing and the friction created by Gale thrusting into you had you almost at the edge.
But Gale groaned in frustration and dragged you up from the table. “This won’t do”, he commented, then turned you around and pushed you down again. “I need to see your face when I make you come for me”, he explained his reasoning.
So now you were laying on the wooden desk, your naked butt rubbing over the polished wood, supporting yourself on your elbows as Gale moved in and dragged your legs around his hips to enter you again. But before he did, he bowed down to tear open your already very revealing blouse. You gasped, as buttons jumped off it as you felt the burn of his violent tearing. Who would’ve thought the scholar was so ready to take what he wanted?
Thankfully you had been wearing nothing else underneath, so the wizard was immediately greeted with your naked breasts springing free from your top.
He stared at them dumbfoundedly while their peaks hardened in the sudden rush of cold air. You licked your lips and arched your back again to make them look as perky as possible.
When Gale kept staring in awe, you angled your head, cocked an eyebrow and let one hand wander across them – from one hardened bud to the other - and with that motion softly squeezing and dragging them.
“I kept thinking about these since you put them so exquisitely on display that night at the party”, Gale whispered. “So good to see them finally in the flesh”, he continued and licked his lips. His eyes flicked to yours – was he seeking approval for his stupid joke? This man could really swing between effortlessly and mind-blowingly sexy to absolute dork within in a single moment.
You wrapped your legs around his hips to get his dick back pressing against you. “Will you finally finish what you started? This is taking longer than waiting for you to get done grading a paper”, you scoffed and quickly moved up to give his hardness a single firm stroke.
That made the wizard’s head lull back and groan once more. Then he was immediately onto you again, entering you and bottoming out in a single movement. His hands moved to your hips again to give himself more resistance for his thrusts as he started moving again. And this time with an absolute urgency.
He stared at you, eyes flicking from yours to your jigging boobs then to where he could see himself sliding in and out of you. One of his hands wandered down between where your bodies were joined and this time his real fingers were working your clit.
And between his skilled fingers, his powerful thrusts and the way he stared at you as if he actually wanted to devour you, you felt the cliff coming. And you knew that for him it was coming into view as well as his movements became more and more ragged.
“Please”, you begged him simply – not being able to utter anything else.
Some more powerful thrusts and flicks of his thumb while you clenched around him pushed you off then, making you fall, see stars. It was as if you had entered the weave itself.
You moaned his name desperately as he made you come violently. You clawed and grabbed for his arms, desperate to hold onto him while you lost yourself.
You squeezed your legs around him as you arched your back impossibly far with the pleasure spikes ebbing and flowing through your body and your whole soul.
And Gale followed you within only a few more movements, groaning and tensing as you felt him twitch inside you and his hands clawed into the flesh of your hips. He moaned your name as well, as if it were a plea, while he came inside of you.
“Ah Gods above”, he moaned before he collapsed onto you after that.
The two of you were a tangled, sweaty mess. Breathing heavily, none of you trusted their skills to form complete sentences yet again after this.
With a groan you wrapped your arms around Gale’s upper body, touching his hair, moving a strand of it behind his ear before you leaned back. All tension had left your body for the time being and you desperately felt like you needed to lie down now somehow, actually lie down.
Out of all the scenarios you had come up with as possible outcomes to this, this was definitely the most satisfying one. And the fact that Gale had casually admitted that he thought your exposé brilliant was adding to the happy, fuzzy feeling you felt spreading through you now.
Gale’s eyes meanwhile had widened at your soft gesture and caress and he kept staring at you in wonder and admiration. Then he suddenly moved up and kissed you: with open lips, but gentle, almost too tender after what the two of you had just done. The scruff of his beard tickled a bit on your face and made you scrunch your nose a little.
When he withdrew slowly your expression mirrored his from just before.
“What was that for?”, you asked softly.
“I just realised I hadn’t kissed you through all of this and this was a fact I couldn’t quite live with”, the wizard answered. Ah well, he seemingly was already back to his blabbering eloquent self. This stupid idiot – you were down bad for him even worse now.
You suddenly felt a giggle rise up in you and your cheeks warm. So you grabbed the wizard’s face and kissed him again. Longer now, a bit more passionately – and in a way that already made you yearn to have him again.
“So, do you want to talk about your exposé now, or…?”
“Gale, can we discuss this later?”
The wizard gave you a huge smile when he heard you call him by only his first name again.
“Alright, let’s schedule another meeting for that then.”
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aeshttp · 3 months
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assistant apprentice
gn! reader x gale
where gale has a midlife crisis over being attracted to his apprentice.
read under cut!!
There was something about you, hunched over a table consumed by scrolls and tomes, a lone candlewick dripping concerningly close to one of the texts and eyebrows furrowed in paramount concentration as your teeth gently bit down on plush, pink lips, that Gale found endearing, and alarmingly attractive.
Damn it, he knew it was wrong- but it quite literally hurt his heart to turn away from the tranquil scene before him. It wasn't as if you weren't a consenting adult, but what student would enjoy their teacher scrutinizing them, eyes hazed over with lust and awe?
As you scratched your scalp with the tip of the quill, mouth curled in something akin to frustration and disdain, an expletive on the tip of your tongue, Gale had finally gained adequate strength to tear his eyes away from you- suddenly awfully interested at the glass lamp he had procured at a market many moons ago.
Crystal clear in his memory, Gale was able to embarrassingly recall every minute detail surrounding the first day in which he met you, much to his chagrin.
He had been wondering around a vast library for a while, engrossed and captivated by the towering shelves of books, each filled with knowledge waiting to be ingested, as a niggling feeling at the back of his mind made him aware that he was most likely being followed.
By who or what, he had no idea- but Gale would be damned if he was to be caught off guard and attacked, although wasn't exactly sure on what type of person would be ambushed in a library of all places- lest the attract the vitriol of the librarian.
Sharply turning a corner, Gale waited by the edge of one of the bookshelves, waiting for the assailant to round the corner and instead get spooked by Gale.
When you appeared from round the corner, eyes bulging with awe and reverence, fingers moving nonsensically by your side- as if barely able to reign in excitement and fight the urge to pounce on him- Gale was entirely nonplussed, and for a moment- flattered.
The feeling only expanded in his chest as you spat out words in haste, stumbling over compliments and praises- inching closer every second, practically buzzing from excitement.
Gale would tell anyone about his work if they gave the slight inclination that they were interested (which they hardly ever were), but to hear about his studies from a secondary source birthed a feeling inside of him he didn't think possible, so overjoyed by the fact he'd gone off about needing an assistant- a complete lie- but was utterly overjoyed when you had accepted without a minute to process.
And nearly two months later, here you were, living in his humble abode as his 'apprentice', desperately trying to put a damper onto his feelings. Of course, Gale never regretted making you his apprentice, more displaced by the fact he had grown to develop feelings far from platonic- simply because you were a kindred soul to his.
It was a shame, that you had hailed him a genius of the arcane, a master of magic and yet, he was far too cowardly to admit his feelings to you, content with him being your teacher and you his apprentice.
Perhaps one day, he'd find the bravery to speak from his heart- but as you rushed over to him, begging for him to demonstrate a spell in order to understand the theory behind it, he simply smiled and donned the mask of an adept sorcerer.
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auroraesmeraldarose · 1 month
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Okay hive mind, let’s go.
When is Gale’s birthday, and why? What sign is he?
(Other than a sign from god to lie down and open your legs)
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satan-chillin · 2 months
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Bloodweave fic idea:
reincarnated Gale Dekarios & w/ the name of something ridiculous like Galius but prefers the nickname Gale + a bit of a notable last name due to a famous ancestry but pretty much forgotten with time. Works as a professor in one of the magical uni's night classes. loves the job but not the colleagues, and where he's more appreciative of the students taking up class during evenings since they're more or less making the effort to give time to learning despite their busy day to day.
he gets a new elven student one evening, out of place among the other elven pupils: very pale, white haired, red eyes, and w/ a very sharp smile. likes to run commentary while occupying the front row & likes to challenge Gale's ideas that it would be tremendously irritating if he wasn't so funny about it (as more than half of Gale's students think so too). Astarion likes to run his mouth when mouthing off deities, much to annoyance of the properly offended people, but Gale thinks it's the one thing that's keeping him from actually making friends w/ his classmates. He attracts people easily, as someone charming + striking; not that Gale pays too much thought on those. He's still his instructor no matter how Astarion looks older than his usual students, or, heck, older than Gale even.
He doesn't see Astarion during the day, though the guy seems to have a very active nightlife if the rumors are to go by, mostly by those with enough connection among the nobility who mentioned once or twice in passing that they had seen Astarion Acunin in a recent ball.
Gale eventually wonders what Astarion is even doing in his Cantrips class when he already grasped the fundamentals and does not need any of the lectures by the looks of it. If Gale is into self-flattery, he'd think it's for him. And it's very easy to think so considering it's no small amount of times that he had caught Astarion's red eyes zoning in on him, more often than not he was pretending not to look Gale's way when engaging another in a conversation. But that's it, really, and Astarion is one of those students of his who never sought him for an explanation on his marks so they never had any 1on1 interaction. Nor they had been in any situation that warranted them to have one.
It's funny, Gale thinks, how he considers him as one of his reliable students. And one of the very consistent ones in terms of grades, which one wouldn't think when they take one look at him.
They both get an opportunity to interact alone outside of uni when Gale got roped into some kind of a major event where he noticed Astarion in his periphery, resplendent and simultaneously trying to avoid attention. The definitely-not-spiked drink they pour in inconspicuous red cups must have caught up to him when he decided to curiously follow Astarion out.
Gale knows he has imbibed more than he could handle when he stumbles upon Astarion draining a stallion dry of blood in the stables.
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trashmancer · 4 months
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Or: How I felt about that interview.
Anyway--Professor Gale Dekarios of Blackstaff Academy living his best, relaxed life 💖
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lavendarr00 · 4 months
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Professor Dekarios Takes a Sick Day (GN!Reader x Gale)
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Summary: Gale wakes up with a cough and a fever. No matter his protestations, you want nothing more than to care for him
Pairing: GN!Reader x Gale
Rating: E
Word count: 855
“I’m fine,” Gale choked out between body-wracking coughs. “Really.”
You eyed him skeptically and shook your head. “Sweetness, if you were fine, you wouldn’t be hacking up a lung right now.”
Gale faltered, trying to scrounge up another way to assuage your concerns about his well-being. He had classes to teach, papers to grade, and research to conduct. He opened his mouth to protest but fell into a coughing fit before he could speak.
“I know you love your work, but you won’t be very productive if you’re this bad off,” you insisted, stroking his hair. You brought the back of your hand to his forehead, noting how febrile he was. You pressed your lips into a firm line as you traced your fingers along his jawline, gently palpating his swollen lymph nodes.
Gale shifted restlessly in bed. “Really, my love, I must go —“
You pressed down on his shoulders gently, coaxing his head back onto the pillow. “You, Professor Dekarios, are not going anywhere today. You look like death warmed over and you have a raging fever.”
“But —“
You laid a finger to his lips. “Send your simulacrum in. You need to rest. Your students and colleagues will understand.”
Gale relented, knowing that you would not let him out of bed regardless of what he had to say on the matter.
He sighed inwardly. “Fine.” With a flick of the wrist and a hoarsely muttered incantation, Gale generated a simulacrum who quickly bustled out of the bedroom. Moments later, you could hear the front door open and shut as Gale’s translucent substitute left for the academy.
You laid a kiss to his feverish forehead and cupped his cheek. Gale closed his eyes and relaxed into your touch. “The chill of your hand is a respite like no other,” he murmured. He was still frustrated with being unable to see his students and conduct his research, but he knew that you were right; a day of rest was in order.
“Let me run you a hot bath,” you insisted, standing up from his bedside. “While you soak, I’ll make you some tea with a slippery elm tincture to soothe your throat.”
Gale allowed a soft smile to play at his lips. “Thank you, my love. You always know just what this old wizard needs.”
“You’re not that old,” you replied playfully, stroking his hair.
Gale huffed and rolled his eyes. “If my love so insists.” He closed his eyes and settled back into the soft solace of the bed you shared with him.
You disappeared into the washroom, casting Create Water into the claw-footed bathtub. The tub slowly filled with warm water while you lit the sconces on either side of the bath. You set out a fresh towel and clean sleep clothes on the side table, anticipating Gale’s every need as best you could. The finishing touch was a rose oil that you daringly sprinkled over the warm bath, filling the room with a floral scent.
“Come, my love,” you cooed, summoning Gale into the washroom. You could hear him easing himself out of bed, groaning as his joints ached in protest.
Gale trudged into the washroom and smiled softly. “Ah, you know precisely what I like,” he sighed.
“Comes with the territory,” you replied, removing his sweat-soaked bedclothes. “Now, take a nice soak and I’ll return with some tea.” You laid a cold wet towel on his forehead, eliciting a sigh of relief from Gale. Despite his initial protestations to your care, Gale was deeply appreciative of how attentive you were to his needs when he felt unwell.
“Chamomile, if you don’t mind,” he called after you as your footfalls faded into the hallway and down the stairs. Gale could hear you rummaging in his stash of exotic teas. He closed his eyes and relaxed into the warm water. He was still unaccustomed to letting others care for him. Nobody, save for perhaps his mother, ever tended to him with such care. ‘Let me love you,’ you insisted when he experienced residual pain from where the Netherese orb once resided. Slowly, Gale was learning that love should never come with a cost.
“Here,” you murmured, setting a cup of tea on the side table beside the tub. “Chamomile with slippery elm and two drops of honey — just how you like it.”
Gale’s eyes fluttered open and he took in the sight of you. “Thank you my love.” He took a sip from the teacup and appeared to relax once more. “Perfection.”
After a long soak and a cup of tea, you helped Gale back into bed. His color was returning as his fever began to break. You gave him a tender kiss and stroked his hair.
“I’ll have soup ready for you soon,” you told him. “Rest up, my darling.”
Gale furrowed his brow. “My dear, I fear you may catch whatever illness ails me.”
You shrugged passively. “Perhaps, but if it means that you’re well again, it will have been well worth it.”
The subtext in your words was clear: Gale was worth it. One day, perhaps, he would believe it entirely.
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yourluciela · 3 months
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The Lunch Box
So, my friend sent me this post. I didn't know that Gale didn't like vegetables before. Who would have thought? And this is my interpretation. Woe betide anyone who tries to steal Gale's lunch box!
The mastermind behind this cute idea @ramdom-stupid-sketches-of-mine
Happy Valentine's Day!
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rosieofcorona · 4 months
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A Summoning
ANGELS, I've returned to serve you domestic fluff with a side of holiday mischief. Professor! Gale and Dad! Gale are everything to me so I have wrapped them both up in this story with a little bow on top. Also on AO3 if you prefer. As always, thank you for reading. 💕
Winter brings many things to Waterdeep– the sort of darkness that seeps into every corner of the city, the sort of snow that falls as heavy as a shroud. It brings a season’s worth of holidays, and with them, all their customs, all their visitors called home from every region of Faerun. It bring gifts and songs and lanterns, lit and hung in every window, their light shining off the snow like grounded stars. 
Best of all, winter brings them Arabella. 
In the girl’s first year at Blackstaff, Tav insisted Gale invite her home at Midwinter break. After all, she'd pointed out, Gale knew firsthand what it was like to be alone in the dormitories when the other students had gone home. It would be better, they’d decided, to have her stay with them in the tower, where they could spoil her and cook for her and help her with her schoolwork. 
And so it was. 
That first Midwinter came and went, and so did Fey Day and Fleetswake and Midsummer, Stoneshar and Last Sheaf and Feast of the Moon. Every holiday they invited her, and every holiday she came. 
By the time Midwinter arrived again, there was no discussion at all. Arabella simply appeared at their door on the last day of school, and was welcomed in just before dinner. 
For the most part, her visits brim over with happiness. Gale teaches her the rules of lanceboard and all his favorite recipes, and Tav reads to her and shows her how to pluck out a tune on a lyre. When Tara and Morena come for tea, they tell her stories about Gale’s childhood that turn him varying shades of red, depending on how often he has scolded Arabella for similar behaviors. There is no shortage of laughter or mischief or very late nights, which means also no shortage of noise. 
In the mornings, Gale rises ahead of the girls, gathers all his students’ papers and heads to the library to work in uninterrupted silence. If he is lucky, he can get through a good deal of marking before he starts to miss the tower, all its chaos and its company. 
No luck today. 
He’s only been there for an hour when a family passes by the nearest window, a flock of children shepherded by their parents. They all take turns at catching snowflakes, huge and fluffy, on their tongues, and fall apart in fits of laughter when they miss. 
They grin and wave at Gale when they see him, their cheeks flushed and bright with cold, and he waves back, and packs his things, and goes home early. 
*********
The tower seems, at first, exactly as he’d left it– silent, sleeping– But they must be up by now, he thinks. It’s late enough.  
He might expect them in the solar or the kitchen or the parlor, warming up before the fireplace or hovering over a lanceboard, but there’s no seems to be no sign of them, no sound of them at all. 
It is too quiet.  
Gale takes the stairs two at a time and makes a beeline down the corridor to their chambers, worry rising in his chest. He nearly rushes past his study when a faint exchange of words drifts through the door, followed by a commotion– a flutter of paper, a rush of footsteps, something dragged across the floor. 
He’s almost startled when he reaches for the handle and it opens. Tav is standing at the threshold, bright as ever, smiling wide. 
Gale catches sight of Arabella in the background closing a book, setting it back down on his desk with a little thump . Its cover– or what he glimpses– looks familiar somehow, like something he’d studied long ago and has since forgotten. The memory hasn’t fully formed when Tav interrupts it, her lips pressed to his in her usual greeting. She tastes like holiday sweets, like honey cake and mint, like tradition and family and home. 
“Hello, darling,” she says. “You’re home early.”
“Hello, you.”
The lingering taste of her is nearly enough to distract from his growing suspicion, but there’s something off about the room that he can’t quite place, something mischievous in the way she’s leaning against the doorframe, shifting her body, tilting her head to obscure his view. 
“Am I interrupting?” 
“Of course not,” she assures him, in a tone so light and easy it’s almost convincing. “Arabella and I have just been reviewing some of her lessons, isn’t that right?”
“Yep!” Arabella agrees, too enthusiastically for schoolwork. The girl comes to stand next to Tav in the doorway, her hands clasped politely before her. The picture of a well-behaved child. 
He is certain they are up to something now. 
“And which lessons might those be?”
They stumble over their answers, the words colliding, knocking heads. 
“Evocation,” answers Tav, while Arabella says, “Illusion.” 
A guilty look, quick as a hummingbird, flits between them and disappears. 
Gale raises an eyebrow. “Care to try again?”
“Well,” Arabella swallows, “I was saying you’ve been teaching our class about familiars, and how you got Tara, and–”
“Hang on,” Gale interrupts, a realization creeping over him. He points past them to the desk, to the text that she had dropped when Tav opened the door. “Is that my book?”
“I think you’ll find they’re all your books, darling,” Tav says quickly. “Don’t worry, we’ll put them back–”
But it’s too late. 
With a flick of his hand, Gale passes through them like mist and reappears in the room beside his desk. He flips open the front cover– Advanced Summoning, stamped in gilded letters– and turns to a bookmarked page of detailed instruction, his own notes scribbled in the margins in a child’s hand. 
“You certainly will put this back,” he says firmly, facing Arabella. “This is magic beyond your years.” 
“But you were younger than me when you summoned Tara!” 
“‘Younger than I,’  and– nevermind – you're right, but that was very different.” 
Arabella wrinkles her nose indignantly. “How?”
“Well first of all, I didn’t need someone else’s private notes to do it. Now, if you’d like a book on familiars, I have a more appropriate one you can borrow–”He is moving in long strides toward the bookshelves on the opposite wall, crossing over the rug that’s been moved– It’s been moved? – to half-cover the summoning circle and– 
Wait .
“Have–” he sputters, lifting his shoe off the chalky runes drawn on the hardwood. “Have you made a summoning circle ? In my study?”
“Well, not just me,” the girl protests. “Tav helped!”
“I did,” she cringes lightly, when Gale whips around to look at her. “I couldn’t let her do it on her own.” 
“My love, she shouldn’t be doing it at all. This,” he says, turning back to Arabella, “Is complex and dangerous magic. One mistake and you might summon a pit fiend rather than a tressym.” “A very small pit fiend,” says Tav under her breath, but on seeing Gale’s scowl, adds, “Sorry.” 
“ Gods,��� he groans, dropping his face into his hands. “What am I going to do with the two of you?”
“Help us!” Arabella grins. “We were nearly done anyway.”
“We could use your expertise,” Tav murmurs, drawing close. “You’re the only one who’s done this before.” 
He feels her soft hands on his, prying them from his eyes so gently that he almost forgives them right then and there. 
“Pleeeease?” Arabella draws out the word like a sustained note. “I won’t ask for anything else all Midwinter.” 
“Where on earth are you going to keep it, Arabella? They’ll never allow it in the dormitories, believe me.” The girls look first at each other, then back to Gale. “No,” he says firmly. “Absolutely not. It cannot live here.” “But I’m here all the time anyway!” Arabella protests. “I promise I’ll take good care of it. Besides, you’re always telling me I need to be more responsible.” 
Gale sighs until it feels like all the air has left his body. 
“And summoning a familiar is going to make you more responsible?” The child shrugs. “It might.”
It is all he can do not to laugh at that, at all of it, at the great karmic joke playing out in front of him. This must be what his mother felt like, all those many years ago. He thinks of writing her his most sincere apology. 
After a great deal more sighing and shaking his head, Gale bends and tugs the rug away to reveal the extent of their work. He examines it deliberately, walking around and around, head bent, arms crossed, brow furrowed. 
“Your runes are wrong,” he says at last. “Here,” he points, “and here. Let me show you.”
Arabella listens closely as he guides her through the process, far more closely than she listens in his class. She draws new runes in a steady hand, pausing each time for affirmation, and when she finishes Gale’s eyes are full of pride. 
“The incantation now,” he nods, and stands and brushes the chalk from his knees. 
He moves out of the circle entirely as Arabella takes the center, her command of the words unwavering and true. But for a long and silent moment, nothing happens. She looks from the circle to the book to Gale and back, her disappointment only tempered by confusion. 
Then comes a sound like distant lightning, and a sizzling, crackling energy that makes the hair on all their arms stand up on end. A sphere of light appears above them, tears like parchment down the middle, and something tiny, something living tumbles straight into her arms. She nearly drops the book to catch it– a ball of fur with fledgling wings– and when she turns her eyes are bright with tears, a joy Gale still remembers.
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