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tripleyeeet · 5 months

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DEPOLLUTE ME, GENTLE ANGEL

SUMMARY: Gale's been hiding behind his pride for far too long. Or at least, Astarion thinks so.

PAIRING: Astarion & Gale

WORD COUNT: 2,053

WARNINGS: Descriptions of decomposition and injuries. Brief mentions of dissociation.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, this idea has been consuming my brain since I read @ssalballoon's comic about rotting gale. Obviously the concept isn't mine and is heavily inspired by their art, so please give them some love! <3

MASTERLIST

Something’s wrong with Gale.

Often smelling more like a batch of tanned leather than a human wizard, Astarion can’t help but linger at its presence. Despite the way it violently rips through his senses —clouding his vision like a putrid fog of death— the smell is strangely intoxicating. A temptation of sorts, plaguing his thoughts with a powerful sweetness wrapped in rotting flesh.

It calls to him in ways he doesn’t quite understand. As the days pass, he can feel it clinging to his nose, assaulting his senses each time the wizard draws near. Ripping through him like a bloodied knife reeking of day-old viscera.

Most days, it’s presence is fickle. Ebbing and flowing like the tides, there are moments in between when he’s able to breathe a sigh of relief and forget the strange desires that sit at the back of his mind. Moments where the air is pure and unalloyed —no longer tainted by whatever shit Gale’s got collecting underneath that wretched bandage of his. Ones where Astarion can breathe without the threat of a fragrant assault each time the wizard passes. Allowing him time to think of himself rather than focusing on the increasing injury that Gale hides in plain sight.

Because Astarion can tell it’s getting worse. As the days turn to nights and circle back, he can see the subtle changes in Gale’s behaviour. How the wizard’s charm has slowly dampened over time, leaving nothing more but this suppressant version of himself, aimlessly floating from one camp to the next.

It drives him mad if he’s honest. Watching the way Gale refuses to cook with his hands. Instead choosing to waste his precious Weave to pilot those ridiculous apparitions. Or how he no longer waves his hands like a man gone mad each time he speaks. It’s depressing really, seeing him swiftly wither away. Witnessing the downfall of his autonomy each time he struggles to hold his staff during battle.

Even conversations with him have changed. Once resembling an elegant show of vast grandeur, talking to him has become nothing more than some menial task. A boring back and forth lacking that past boisterous quality of wit.

Astarion knows it’s because he’s exhausted. Slowly rotting from the inside out will do that to you, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying. Especially because he’s become embarrassingly reliant on the bastard. Not that he would never admit it out loud but the man’s become somewhat of a constant in his daily routine. A moment in time he stupidly looks forward to each time they both find themselves awake before everyone else.

Considering neither of them sleep, over the weeks it’s become a constant to greet each other before breakfast. To simultaneously wander out of their respective tents when the sun comes up, stretching their aches and pains away before meeting by the snuffed-out fire. Usually, Gale will greet him like an old friend, his tone cheery or playful, while Astarion merely nods and grumbles his way back to consciousness, eventually giving in to whatever conversation the wizard’s decided to focus his energy on.

It sounds preposterous given the circumstances but he enjoys the company. More so than he probably should, he thinks. Which makes the decreasing energy of his friend’s soul all the more painful to watch.

And to smell. Especially now that they’ve returned from battle, caked in the blood of their enemies —coated in dirt and sweat. All of it mixing together to create a cocktail-induced headache Astarion has to pretend not to notice.

Clearing a lump in his throat, as soon as they’re back he rushes for the lake just South of their campsite. Paying no mind to the rest of the party who follow leisurely behind, he quickly takes a deep breath to try and calm himself down. Sucking the tainted air as he closes his eyes, he pauses to allow it to filter through his lungs, counting each second spent struggling to maintain any sort of composure before he inevitably lets out it.

With just an inhalation or two he can tell Gale’s only a few feet back, moving slower than usual. Most likely sitting at the tail-end of the pack in order to push through the pain of his injury.

As they continue walking to their shared destination, Astarion can’t help but pity the poor fool, knowing how difficult it must be to move after all that excitement. Considering throughout their encounter he could see him struggling, it’s a miracle he’s still upright. Having spent the majority of the fight using his staff more like an anchor than a weapon, Astarion could feel the irritability of everything coursing through his veins —rushing through him alongside the adrenaline of battle.

It quickly became obvious he shouldn’t have been there in the first place. What with him whiffing every other shot and defiantly going against Tav’s orders. Having him around had become nothing short of a liability. And based on how hard he’d managed to push himself, he knew it too.

Which is why he refuses to stop, even now as they make it to the water’s edge and begin stripping down to wash away past thoughts and actions. Instead of acknowledging his need for help he merely continues to ignore the issue, walking down to the furthest point of the lake so that he can hope to slip away unnoticed.

Immediately going against such an idea, Astarion follows behind, keeping just enough distance so that he can remain undetected as he watches the wizard struggle to lower himself to the rocks below. Staring at the way his hands shake with the kind of violent energy Astarion’s far too familiar with.

Frowning at the memory of having to dig himself from his own grave centuries before, he can still feel the rupture of his knuckles against the dirt. How they cracked under the pressure of his desperation, threatening to break just like Gale’s now seem to do.

Remembering the irritation of the filth beneath his nails, Astarion can’t help but flex his digits at the same time Gale swipes his good hand across his face. Watching how the frustrated features disappear behind his fingers before returning with exhaustion.

A sight that immediately makes Astarion frown. A sort of sadness filling up his chest at the image of his friend struggling to maintain whatever semblance of strength he has left. Sympathy latching onto his bones in the form of cautious steps that force him from his hiding spot.

“You look like you could use a hand.”

Before he can even think to stop his offer, Astarion moves to the wizard’s side, acting as if the smell doesn’t bother him. Pretending like the scent of the stained cloth that coats the lower half of his arm doesn’t remind him of a festering corpse splitting open to reveal spoiled organs.

“Care to lend an arm as well?”

Unfortunately, Gale's joke falls flat. Not necessarily because of the material but because of the tone. Its lack of joy hitting Astarion’s ears in a way that furthers the ache. Forcing him to kneel in front of his friend with a sigh. “You know you’re starting to worry the others.”

“Am I?”

Ignoring the question, Astarion’s fingers gently inch towards the top of Gale’s dressings, searching for an opening —twitching reluctantly against the sweaty fabric as they continue to sit in silence. Neither one of them able to speak out of fear of revealing too much.

Which only increases the pain inside Astarion’s chest. Like a knife, it pushes through his lungs, creating deep craters for the rotten scent to penetrate —holes the size of Gale’s hands that now rest limply against his lap.

Peeling away the soiled cloth, Astarion holds his breath while Gale lets out his. Both of their minds struggling not to veer off course as the bandage is torn away, revealing sick skin. Showing them both the polluted flesh that wraps around broken-down muscle and bone.

“You reek, you know. Of... whatever this is.”

All Gale does is hum as he reaches into the pocket of his robes, prompting Astarion to narrow his eyes until there’s a fresh set of bandages placed in front of him. Then he merely grabs them and begins to work, slowly unravelling them as he looks at Gale’s expression, noting the slight blush across his cheeks. How his eyes grow heavier with each passing moment they spend together.

“You should really consider finding a cure,” he says. “For my sake, obviously.”

Grinning then, Astarion expects some sort of quip, but again, all he’s met with is silence. The continued absence of Gale’s wit refusing to acknowledge the obvious. Most likely rejecting the idea that for once the vampire’s making sense.

A fact that fills Astarion with annoyance, knowing the pride Gale feels is something he deeply relates to. How every day he’s met with the struggle of asking for help versus manipulating it out. Each moment he spends with any one of his companions he has to resist the urge to beg for their assistance. To ignore the desire to drop to his knees and cry for a forgiveness none of them are aware of in hopes of earning their aid.

It’s the same reason why he’s currently helping Gale. Why, instead of granting the wizard time to brood by his lonesome he’s instead inserting himself into his space. Taking it upon himself to woo and distract —making it seem like it’s merely just kindness.

It's what he always does, despite the reluctance that sits at the back of his mind. How he earns the trust of all the people he encounters. Similar to Gale, he uses his pride to his advantage, showing it off to anyone who will see it. Producing it as if it were a mask instead of the blade that constantly nicks his skin each time he weaponizes it.

Always hiding behind its decorative design, Astarion allows his confidence to do the talking. To earn their trust as they continue towards their common goal despite knowing that it’s wrong.

“Apologies for the burden I’ve become as of late.”

Too engrossed in thought, Astarion nearly misses Gale’s apology. Focusing on their shared advantages, his voice is faint at first, barely hitting his ears as his fingers absentmindedly work around his arm. Echoing in the back of his mind over and over again until it’s clear as day, forcing him to look up.

His eyes are distant in a way that breaks the vampire’s heart. Shattering on impact, he has to swallow down the shards that try to escape, feeling them slice across his esophagus as he tries his best to ignore the sting of Gale’s expression. How it grows in both distance and familiarity the longer the two of them stay.

“You wouldn’t be a burden if you set your pride aside for once.”

Gale huffs and then blinks, returning all at once. His moment of absence becoming nothing more than a memory that both of them will eventually forget. “You’re one to talk, aren’t you?”

Astarion lets out a single ha —one filled with total falseness. “You and I are nothing alike, wizard,” he then lies, even though Gale’s right.

Far too often he sees himself within him. Lurking in the strangest of places, it’s as if Gale’s behaviours often mirror his own. Always reminding him of his motivations —prompting him to question why he does what he does as he’s forced to stare at these distorted images. Ones that look familiar but somewhat changed to better suit the wizard’s needs.

“Perhaps… perhaps not. I suppose it depends on the finer details.”

This time, Astarion’s the one to remain silent. Opting to ignore the tightness in his chest that presents itself to turn his attention to the bandage now fully wrapped around Gale’s arm, allowing his fingers to trail down his wrist to grab his hand.

“Well, for the right amount of coin I’m sure there’s a decent healer in Baldur’s Gate who could help you,” he says, once again smelling that scent. Feeling it rush through his nose like a rapid river of disgust, forcing him to clear his throat and mind as he raises the wizard’s knuckles to his lips before leaving without another word.

@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo@jjfchk@idiotsatan@bluestuesday@bloopthebat@art-by-greenie@heneralmoon@sukunababe@dreamingaboutyousworld@ranfithegood@haniscrying@liadamerondjarin@the-lake-is-calling@marina-and-the-memes@rookieoftheyear@zraloci-cpr@kaetmo@snickerdoodle-daydream@wowowwild@d1anna@raswiet@conniesbbymama@venus-wrts@demonicthorns@kihten@deadglamsheep@sanscas@spammypasta@leighsartworks216@rose-gold-blue@p1ssmagg0t@hellish-writes@ghostinvenus@otayz@sexysquatch@sleepyeclair@colorful-anxieties@alina-exe@ilana-the-lasagna@lillifer@girlwiththepapatattoo@y2cade@acelin-ginsberg@pinkuranium@catrad0rable@scarletrosesposts@qwnamidala@itsrosebabe@bunnyperi@queenofcarrotflowers-s@tatumadams20@spkyxszn@chlort@f3v3rs@awkwardwookie@joy-the-reader@warm-milk-with-honey-blog@vertigocrime@iyis@wildpiper@pebblethestone@tillywasneverhere@bex-03@kaetmo@revemiya@staticspouse@itzagothamcitysiren@djarinsmixtape@when-the-night-came@epicy0n@bababahannah@sleepyred1703@lotus-99@lofcompass@r4d10h34d5@vampninjaz@itsmekalou@offbrandhand@yikes-buddy@konenichi@rainonarden@oceanbluesixeyes@bodtyworship@maydayitsjay@greasyslimebucket@yeeteth-the-raven@fantasyfairysworld@allexthakatt@flowersaretheshit@morglyne@thespectacularspaceace@cephiss0@use-your-telescope@furblrwurblr@kloverfield@angelofthorr@writervaul-t@starved-kitten@minixluvr@crowley--aziraphale@sapphicwren@alionera-blog@jennithejester@dezedrol@thisisew@saladalpaca@applepiewithbacon@httpbiohazard@aurasyn@nerdoodles@kingpinthedevil@itzkawaiix@domainoflostsouls@silverskylan@uminootome@helpidkwhatimdoingwrong@deadlyinfernos@blackbirdswhispers@sarahskywalker-amadala@writingmysanity@f3v3rs@jayjones03@quietlyebbie@optimisticprime3@eyes-for-daze@sunnytalia3@megoshh@maddiedott@cappsikle@mostbeautifulnightmare@lynnlovesloki@simpytheshrimpy69@astarion-archive@smaranshakthi@autistic-deer@shadowfeart@freckled-petals@candied-lavender@hp-art-studio@ghouligan@satelliteapotheosis@waywardwitch-hel@pandimoostuff@mythoughtsofinsanity@ilovelovelylove@oneandonlyizabelle

TAGLIST NOW CLOSED!

#depollute me gentle angel #astarion x gale #bloodweave #bloodweave fan fic #summer writes

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obsessedwithgale · 4 months

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Closed

I love Gale, always will, he is a wonderful man, but damn, some of you seriously need to touch grass.

I am done with the drama.

I let the queue run through (28 posts as I see this 7.1.24) then you won't see any new more posts here.

To my mutuals, I love you. Stay true to your love to Gale, he needs it.

To the one following me for video content, I am sure someone else will keep doing it.

Master List what I did so far

Won't be updated, won't make any new videos.

Other beautiful Gale Blogs you could and should follow instead:

@hotnerdywizard

@dekariosposting

@dekariosclan

@the-real-housewives-of-waterdeep

@galesleftearring

And of course my absolute favorite Galemancer Artist and dearest friend

@ssalballoon

#I won't also post my gale art anymore here #feel free to checkout reddit or my bsky account for art #pinned post

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rentenesen · 5 months

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Woven - Chapter 1

Gale x Astarion BG3 fanfiction

This is one my first times dabbling in fanfiction and my first time posting anything like this. Was inspired by the Profession Dekarios comics posted by @ssalballoon

Summary: Set in alternate universe, modern day, exploring a world where fae exist (non-dnd). Gale, once a very special child with the ability to see fae, is now a regular almost middle aged man, working as a professor. Bored by his life and unable to let go of the life he once had, Gale struggles with the guilt of how he got here. That is until a strange, pale man appears at his doorstep and Gale is once again pulled back into the world of magick, unaware of what dangers lay ahead.

Word Count: 1.7k This chapter is mostly just set up! Astarion does not appear but is mentioned briefly. I welcome any tips on posting/corrections for how I'm formatting things. Hope you enjoy! ______________________________________________________________

Many children dream of being something greater than they are. How could they not, growing up getting lost in movies and books of fantastical worlds; little boys and girls setting off on journeys through otherworldly realms, adventuring towards their calling, towards their destiny, the chosen ones. Gale Dekarios was that child.

Before he even knew what was happening or how to vocalize it Gale knew that magick was real and alive; even in the city where nature was sometimes rare. He remembered being maybe four years old walking down the street holding hands with his mother, the trees bending in their little cages along the sidewalk, facing forming and melting into the bark, whispers layered in the noise and bustle of the afternoon. Looking back he could see how someone not accustomed to such oddities might see it as twisted and nightmarish but children have no context for the world. To Gale this has always been the way of things. The faces in the trees were like little friends popping out to greet him. The people he would see on the street, impossibly tall, green skin, long fingers, eyes alight they were simply, strangers, out and about, going through their own mundane lives.

Sometimes he would point out these strange happenings to his mother with a giggle or or a question, asking her why that man had spikes down his back or laughing at the silly blue hair floating around the woman on the train, like a jelly fish. His mother would smile down at him, eyebrow raised, and tell him what a creative little boy he was; seldom answering his questions. Sometimes though she would and she would huddle close to him and they would talk about all the wonderful things Gale had seen that day. He now knows she was just playing along, encouraging his "stories" blind to the world around them that was so open and inviting to him.

He remembered his father was a bit less indulgent when Gale would speak of such things. Often eyeing him with a soft stoic look and letting out a little sigh in response. Gale wondered if his father thought of his child as simply being a little "out there" for his own tastes or if he was genuinely concerned. Had his parents ever talked about taking Gale to a doctor? Maybe they should have, but he's glad they never followed through if they did. Gale was not sure how we would have navigated trying to prove he wasn't loosing his mind, especially being the only one who could see what he could.. perhaps they would have convinced him it was all in his mind. How different his life might have turned out then. Either way, he quickly caught on as he got older and started going to school that something about him, about the way he saw the world, was not "normal" and he wised up and stopped talking about it.

He would still write about it though, late at night, exploring his theories, pouring over books in the school libraries feverishly, anything he could get his hands on to learn more about this strange world he seemed to be a part of in some way. He soon learned that the creatures he saw were called fae and he fell deeper and deeper into the study of them. And not just that. There was a time where he had been accepted by them. There was a time when he would dance in the middle of the forrest at night, lavish parties, tender friends, secrets of magick revealed, and even gifted. Gale Dekarius was once a very special boy who lived an impossibly exciting and charmed life. And now he stood in front of his bathroom cabinet mirror, groggy with bags accentuating his eyes, even through he had been dead asleep for the past nine hours. He was pushing forty, his messy beard and unkempt hair making him look even older. He was washed up, he was exhausted.

Regardless, he still had responsibilities so Gale splashed some water on his face and got to trimming his facial hair. His life was not horrible by any means. Gale was a home owner, a rarity more and more these days, of a charming two-story house, with a little back garden and a gate that lead out to a walking trail. and he had a very secure job, an esteemed one even. The title of professor did come with some respect and gave him plenty of time to indulge in how own studies. His parent lived close by and he could often stop in for an afternoon lunch or have them over, not that they stayed too long these days. His father's health had been getting worse and it was a bit more comfortable for them in their own home. Still, his mother would try to come visit regularly, even if it was only her, making occasional use of his spare room, which had become a guest room since his roommate had moved out. Gale wondered when she would be back, his best friend, his confidant, she had left almost a year ago now. He had seen her occasionally since then when she popped back into town, but missed her presence and company around the house. It felt a little too quiet these days, and nights he stayed up reading in the library a little too lonely, without her chastising him for not being in bed or forgetting to eat again. Now he had to keep his life together on his own and felt like he was failing miserably. ___

After fixing up his face Gale threw on a button up from his clean laundry pile, noticed it was a little too wrinkled to look professional, and swapped it for a turtle neck. He'd have to throw it back in the dryer for a bit before wearing it. Maybe he'd actually hang it up in time too, instead of leaving it for days to get wrinkled again. He really should invest in more of those wrinkle-proof shirts, he thought, throwing a blazer on over his sweater.

He stumbled downstairs, his briefcase where he had left it the night before, sitting in on the bench of his dining nook. He popped a piece of bread in the toaster, flicked on the kettle and checked the clock. On time, he sighed in relief, looks like today will go smoothly, he thought.

His phone rang, startling him a little bit and he looked at the caller id. His mother, they talked often but it was unusual for her to call him this early on a school day.

"Hey, Mom" he said, only having to fake his cheery demeanour a little. "How are you this morning?"

"Oh, I'm just wonderful, dear, did you sleep alright" Gale held his tongue, he had always been a night owl and even as an adult it seemed he would never live it down.

"Yes, I did, I slept a lot actually, must of needed it. To what do I own the pleasure of your call mom, is everything okay with dad?"

"Ah yes, it is, didn't mean to concern you, we're both just fine, I'm actually calling because I just wanted to let you know, I've been watching the news this morning and it seems there's something going on in your neighbourhood."

"Oh?" Gale replied, only half listening as he tucked his phone against his shoulder so he could get good grip to butter his toast "What's this?"

"Well your neighbour, Mrs. Wilson, mentioned last time I was over, that something had been rummaging around in her yard" His mother, while a lovely woman, could be quiet the talker, just like Gale himself. He moved on to preparing his tea in a to-go cup, eyeing the clock, hoping she would reach the point soon.

"I see"

"Well and now, I'm seeing on the news more people are noticing it seems like an animal has been prowling around. I just thought I should warn you. Have you seen anything like that?"

Gale thought about it for a moment, but he knew he was not always the most perceptive about those things, "I don't think I have Mom, but I will keep an eye out."

"I trust you will, I just worry about you, you know, want to make sure you're keeping safe"

Gale smiled, softly a little sadly "I am Mom, I love you. Wish we could talk longer but I have to get to school"

"Okay, love you too sweetheart, give me a call back this week"

"I will"

Gale grabbed a paper towel to put his toast on, scooped up his tea and his briefcase, then headed out the door to his car. Before he got in, fumbling with his keys he took a quick look around his street. Had he seen anything? Was there anything amiss? He couldn't tell. He had left the garbage bins out too long, he would have to bring them in tonight but they were upright, undisturbed by prying paws. He shrugged and got into his car, heading off for work.

Curious he turned on the radio, seeing if his local channel had anything to say. It took a few minutes but sure enough, they mentioned it. An animal, they presumed, had wandered into town from the woods. They said residents in the area should be alert and keep all pets indoors. Gale wasn't too worried. He was sure he had seen a lot worse in his lifetime after all, and he knew all he had to do to scare away a lost little creature was to make himself look big and shout loudly. They're more scared of you than you are of them, he thought; he wondered what kind of beast they had strolling the streets, looking for a snack.

No one had caught a good sight of it so far, just the messes it had left behind. The only mention someone made of actually seeing something was in the bushes of their back yard. They had heard a noise, noticed a rustling when they went to investigate and quickly, shown a light on it they had seen a quick flash of red, animal eyes staring back at them; most likely a trick of the light. The thing darted off before the neighbour could get better look at it.

Chucking to himself about how worked up everyone was getting about the situation, Gale hoped at least this might be something interesting. Maybe if he was lucky he himself could see the little fox, or whatever it was, running through his own back yard.

#astarion #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bloodweave #gale x astarion #astarion x gale #astarion ancunin #fanfic #fantasy #alternate universe #slow burn #fae #enemies to friends to lovers #faerie

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riceballoon · 7 months

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hey heads up! migrating to @ssalballoon

from now on i'll begin posting my art on @ssalballoon and refrain from posting it here! this blog was my personal blog for many years and it feels weird to lump them in together

i also want to say, thank you to everyone who's enjoyed my art, and even left such kind and funny comments on it! posting on here has been so encouraging and uplifting, and i'm truly grateful that even one other person has enjoyed what i draw

#feel free to stay if you don't mind posts about other ppl's art and other things i enjoy!#everyone on tumblr is so nice TTOTT

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thatcerealkiller · 2 months

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“My home is with Astarion.”

✨another beautiful work of art by @ssalballoon that I commissioned✨

#Radiant Hopeful #Astarion #Tav #living their best life #it’s so gorgeous #commission #art by #ssalballoon #soo #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #OC: Angelus #bloodpunch

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thatcerealkiller · 3 months

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“I’ll be the unyielding hand from the shadows and the heroes among us will be the heart when we don’t have one to give.”

✨ commissioned art of Astarion and my Tav by the incredible @ssalballoon ✨

accompanying set piece on AO3

#Astarion #Tav #Astarion x Tav #Astarion Ancunin #commission #art by #soo #ssalballoon #too beautiful #had to post both versions #words by me #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #OC: Angelus #bloodpunch

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soundlessroom · 23 days

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"Don't stop me, I worked to hard for all of this." "I can't make you lose yourself." Act 3 Questline of Ceres

I kinda imagine Gale like this. And because I can you find under the cut other characters who were told by their creators would react the same way.

Rou by @ssalballoon :::

Alex by @siantary // @alexoiscello :::

Shayan by my Partner ♥

#bg3 #bg3 rp #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #dragonborn #half-elf #human #wizard #snowweave #galeres #I have no idea about tags #durge #tav

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tripleyeeet · 5 months

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hi this bloodweave concept based on @ssalballoon's breathtaking comic (which you can read here) has taken over my mind so sorry for ignoring all my other wips :')

as an apology here's a snippet because i literally cannot resist:

#seriously though check out the artist that inspired this they're so good!!#wips #wip weds #except it's thurs #bloodweave #astarion x gale #astarion ancunin x gale dakarios #summer writes

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soundlessroom · 3 months

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Switched platforms from Reddit to Tumblr in the quest for your Gale art. Any other Gale artists you'd recommend following?

THIS IS SO NICE!!! THANK YOU???????

Here are ones I can highly recommend:

@ssalballoon Yes. Just yes. Thats all I can say about them! I am foaming from my mouth looking at their godtier art ♥♥♥ matching her kind soul ♥♥♥

@trashmancer THE SHAPES, THE IDEAS, a must for every Galemancer!

@midnigtartist THEIR TAV AND GALE ARE SO DAMN CUTE, also I am absolutely in love with their style and colour palette!

@galesdevoteewife Another absolutely adorable pairing with Gale, like daaang the artstyle is so soft it's a cozy blanket on a cold winter day ♥ (Also their comic about Gales childhood is something that lives rentfree in my mind FOREVER)

@heph Beautiful ideas with Gale (And Astarion!) also very unique Art Style, clear shapes and the colors - beautiful!

@necromosss Goes without saying, an Icon in Gale x Tav art, never misses to bring me to smile with their Gale x Tav shenanigans!

There are many others out there, those are the one on top of my head I think are a must-have to follow.

If one artist was not listened here, I apologize and will add it here!

#please forgive me the tags #but I would be to lazy as anon to type the names in the search machine #have a beautiful sunday everyone!#ask

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rentenesen · 5 months

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Woven - Chapter 2

Gale x Astarion BG3 fanfiction

This is one my first times dabbling in fanfiction and my first time posting anything like this. Was inspired by the Profession Dekarios comics posted by @ssalballoon

Summary: Set in alternate universe, modern day, exploring a world where fae exist (non-dnd). Gale, once a very special child with the ability to see fae, is now a regular almost middle aged man, working as a professor. Unsatisfied with his life, and contemplating his reasons to keep going, a strange pale man appears at his house one night, asking to be let inside.

Word Count: 1.3k ______________________________________________________________

Gale sighed pulling into his driveway that evening, it had been a long day, or it least it felt like it had been. He turned off the car and just.. sat there for a while. In reality it had gone by rather quickly. he only had two classes to teach and his TAs had been there to help out students during office hours.

Still every day felt like it was taking more from him. He felt drained lately. He lifted the collar of his sweater to peer inside at the mark, stretching up from his chest. Was this the cause? Siphoning away his life, minute by minute. Usually his old friend and roommate Tara would help him find sources of magick to keep the thing fed but she had been away, dealing with her own life, and Gale had lacked the energy, the motivation to feed it himself. And now here it was, eating him, instead from the inside out.

He wondered how long it would take to kill him if he simply left it. Would he outlive his father? A pang of guilt shuttered through him. What a terrible son he was.

No. He had to figure out a way to gather some magick and satiate the hungry force in his chest. For his mother's sake at least. Tara probably wouldn't be too happy with him either if he tried to pull something like that on her.

He smiled to himself imagining her scolding him 'Mr. Dakarios, do you think just because I'm not here breathing down your neck you can just let yourself go like that?'

He had papers to grade but he would have to find some time tonight to figure this out. He stepped out of the car wondering if maybe he could ask his mistress for help. He relished the thought of going to her and begging to get himself out of this situation once again. How disappointed would she be in him? Surely not more than she already was and he was getting desperate after all. And if he was being honest, he would not mind the excuse to see her again, to hear her voice, even if it was admonishing him for his foolishness. His mind wandered to her face, her perfect lips, so close to his…

Gale was so lost in thought, walking back towards the his lawn he almost didn't notice the man, crouched at the side of his house, peering in his window. When he did he jumped, letting out a small, high pitched yelp, and dropped his briefcase on the lawn, his students papers spilling out into the grass.

The man also seemed surprised, crouching back and staring at him wide eyed. He had on worn clothing, looked a little disheveled, and like he might make make a run for it.

"What are you doing?" Gale called out trying to make sense of the situation. Was this a burglar? Had he caught someone casing the place? He fumbled around trying to figure out which pocket he put his phone in so he could call the police.

The man's expression turned to confusion for a split moment, like he was trying to read something on Gale's face, then slowly morphed into realization, and finally a relaxed, easy smile.

Gale was taken aback, unable to locate his phone he realized it must be in his briefcase. Having a second to look over the man, however, he realized the police would be no help her. The man was seelie. He was tall with a slight build, with light hair. Gale couldn't see him too clearly with the little light the streetlights provided, but something about his proportions were slightly too long.

"Terribly sorry to frighten you" the man called back to him "I didn't mean to cause a stir, I seem to be a little lost" the man stepped forward, around the house, closer to the front door and Gale. The sensor for the porch light picked up the movement and flicked on illuminating the man's features. He was pale, his hair fully white, with slightly gaunt, slightly worn face. and Gale wasn't sure if he should run or stand his ground. This was not the first time Gale had run into a creature like this in a strange situation but he was unsure what this one's intentions were.

"I'm Astarion" the man said smiling and cocking his head in a friendly gesture.

Against his better judgement Gale forced himself to breathe and relax, deciding to engage with the man. He knew his real name must not be Astarion, no seelie would give theirs up without force. For fae, much of their power was tied to their name, but Gale indulged him nonetheless "Nice to meet you Astarion, I'm Gale. This is my house you've been prowling around"

Astarion laughed, light and free, and if the situation hadn't been so strange Gale would have found it comforting "No prowling, I assure you. You see I have some friends the live around here, darling, but I've gotten quite turned around and it's gotten so late. I was hoping to find someone home to lend me a hand. Now that you're here… might you have a phone I could come inside to use."

His voice was almost lyrical, this Astarion had a silver tongue, Gale would give him that. His lies were so confident anyone else might just buy them outright, but Gale could see him for what he really was, since he could remember Gale could see right through the glamour fae, like this one, would normally don to hide themselves.

Still, why would he lie? What reason would he need to get inside of Gale's home. Then suddenly it clicked. He must have been sent by her. It's the only thing that made sense. Did she have a message for him? Why not send Elminster as she normally would. At least he had the sense to not creep around his yard in the middle of the night.

Gale gave Astarion one last look up and down. If it turned out he wasn't sent by Gale's mistress then Astarion had no idea who he was messing with. Gale was sure he could make quick work of this one if he had to. He looked dirty and malnourished, most likely not used to be around mundane folk. Though, to be fair, he was a rather beautiful man. Most fae were, but there was an allure about him Gale couldn't quite pin down. High check bones, delicate sharp features, long, agile fingers. The the dread thought crept into his mind 'Could he be one of her lovers?' Gale shuddered and shook the thought away, knowing the question would haunt him when he tried to fall asleep that night.

Unable to turn away a possible messenger from his mistress Gale sighed, "Yes, I suppose I do, come on in Astarion, I'll show you where it is." Gale reluctantly turned to gather the papers off the ground and stuff them back into his briefcase before pulling out his keys and opening the door. He gestured for Astarion to come inside, and the man did so without hesitation. This was going to be a long night, Gale thought.

Gale stepped inside himself, flicking on the light. It was when he turned back to close the door behind him that he knew he had made a mistake. Suddenly, and expertly his body was turned and slammed into the door, shutting it with a loud bang. Before Gale had time to react Astarion had the cold blade of a carved knife resting on his throat. The mans expression, so inviting before, had sharpened as he pressed his body into Gale, holding him in place. "How can you see me" the creature hissed, his face, impossibly close to Gale's own. Gale could feel his heartbeat reverberating through his whole body, he was shaking. Even though he had just decided earlier that night not to die, it seemed like fate might have other plans for him. Typical. Looking at Astarion now, not that he could look anywhere else, Gale truly took in his eyes for the first time that night. They fierce, though, Gale though, maybe fearful, and a deep, menacing red.

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