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stars-and-inkpots · 7 months

Note

Could you possibly write more soft Gale fics? He just deserves so much love and healing. I really liked how you wrote Reverence. Sorry I don’t have a more specific ask, I’m not very good when it comes to fic ideas.

Absolutely I can, I love writing for Gale so much, and he really does deserve the world. Thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy!

Late Night Book Club | Gale x Reader

No matter what you try, you just can't seem to sleep. Between nightmares and insomnia, you start to think you might never get a good night's rest again.

Gale seems to share the same issue.

While you might not be able to completely solve your problems, at least the two of you aren't alone in them anymore.

Pairing: Gale/Reader

Tags: Cuddling, Insomnia, Nightmares, Comfort, Fluff, First Kiss, Love Confessions (kinda)

Notes: choosing a name for this was the hardest part about writing it

Ao3 Link: Late Night Book Club

Word Count: 2,150

For whatever reason, you find yourself awake far later than everyone else. This shouldn’t be too much of a problem, if it wasn’t for the fact that this was the second night in a row where sleep eluded you to the point of exhaustion. The little amount of sleep you did manage to get was plagued with uncomfortable dreams that teetered on the edge of nightmares, making sure the rest was fitful. You knew you had to sleep; you couldn’t hope to lead the group if you were barely able to stand tomorrow. It’s frustrating. It isn’t like you aren’t trying to sleep either; you laid there for hours before finally giving up and leaving your tent to tend to the fire that has steadily burnt down to the last embers. It’s here where Gale finds you.

The look on your face only adds to his concern at seeing you up so late. You don’t notice his approach, another thing that makes Gale think something must be wrong.

“Is everything alright?” He asks softly, though the sudden noise still startles you. He watches you turn and immediately relax when you realise it’s only him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry,” you apologise, but you aren’t exactly sure what you're apologising for. Perhaps it's for letting all of them down with your inability to sleep, knowing you’ll hold them back tomorrow. Then you notice that Gale looks just as tired.

“Is there anything I can do?” He asks.

You’re sure your exhaustion is evident enough, you can feel the weight under your eyes. A part of you hates feeling like you need to be taken care of. You don’t want to acknowledge that help would be both welcome and useful, but you know these feelings are simply a byproduct of the exhaustion that weighs on your shoulders. You can’t fault Gale for wanting to help.

“No, it’s alright. You need your own rest.” The day had been tough on all of you. Gale, though talented when it came to magic, was pushed to his own limits today.

“Very well. Would you at least allow me to sit with you for a few moments then?” Gale asks.

You only nod, and Gale sits beside you on the ground. You’ve managed to get the fire going a little stronger again, and the warmth is appreciated by both of you. You’re suddenly aware of just how close you are, knees almost touching. You blame the warmth in your cheeks on the fire.

“If there is something bothering you, I am more than happy to listen.” There is genuine care in his words. He is worried about you. As much as you don’t want to burden your companions with your troubles, he seems adamant that he wants to hear them.

“I can’t sleep is all,” you admit. “It’s nothing serious. Just can’t sleep, and then when I do my dreams end up waking me up again.” It feels childish to say that your dreams are the primary culprit of your lack of sleep. You’ve been through so much in the past weeks, but it’s nightmares of all things that finally get to you.

But Gale doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t tease you. Instead, he looks at you with only sympathy and understanding. He doesn’t pry any further, and you’re thankful.

“What about you? Why are you still up? If you want to share, of course,” you’re quick to add. You don’t want him to feel like he has to tell you his own troubles just because you told him yours.

“We have similar problems it seems,” is all Gale answers. You return his earlier kindness by not pressing him to elaborate either.

The two of you sit there in comfortable silence again.

“I understand if you wish to remain alone, but if you ever wish for company when you cannot sleep, you are always most welcome to visit me.” He says it so quietly, hesitantly, but not unsure. Knowing you don’t need to spend the nights awake alone, at least, is a comfort, and the thought of spending the time talking with Gale is pleasant; even if that time is simply spent sitting near to one another.

You smile. “I might take you up on that offer.”

Gale gives you a fond look. The golden light of the fire makes him look soft and at ease, though, maybe that’s only because he’s with you.

“I think I’ll try to sleep again. Thank you for this, Gale.” You stand, and he does the same.

“Anytime.”

Sleep still doesn’t come easy when you return to your tent, but eventually you’re able to get, at least, a little bit of dreamless sleep before you’re awoken again. The gaps between sleep and consciousness are still more frequent than you want, but it’s better than nothing.

---

The next day is rough. Gale doesn’t look like he had much luck with sleep either, and you’re almost thankful because he is more inclined to ask the group to slow down than you are. Maybe the others can tell that you’re also struggling, because no one complains when the steady pace is interrupted.

Perhaps some god out there is looking out for you, because the day’s travel is mercifully uneventful.

Setting up camp again is a chore. You do your best to help where you can, but you can barely stand as it is.

“Get some rest, soldier. We’ve got it from here,” Karlach says to you, voice quiet. You know she’s trying to be nice, but it feels like pity and you hate it. You swallow your pride and thank her before returning to your tent.

Even though your body aches and your head is starting to hurt, when you lay down, you only end up staring at the roof of the tent. You suddenly just aren’t tired. You know you’re tired, because your body feels tired, but at the same time you aren’t , and it’s only partly caused by fear of the dreams you know await you. It’s frustrating to no end.

After another few minutes of laying there with your eyes closed, you finally give in.

Only a few of the others are still awake, sitting and talking with each other around the fire. They don’t notice you skirting around the edge of camp towards Gale’s tent. It’s not that you feel like you need to keep this a secret, you just don’t think you have the energy to talk to anyone besides the wizard right now.

“Gale? Can I come in?” You ask softly outside the tent. You know he’s awake; you can see shadows that dance across the walls.

“Of course,” Gale answers. Before you can move to open the tent flap, he waves a hand and it opens for you.

“What a gentleman,” you tease, but even you can hear how tired you sound.

“Always for you,” he returns with a smile, but there’s a truth in his words that brings a warmth to your face.

You finally notice how cosy his tent is. There are several books, all of them stacked in piles that must be organised in a way you can’t discern. The ground is covered in plush blankets and pillows. Fluttering around the top of the tent are small, almost iridescent orbs of light, some purple and others blue. They give enough light for Gale to read, but keep the tent dim enough to be pleasant.

“Please, sit down, make yourself comfortable.”

You sit beside him; closer than you were last night, leaning against his side slightly. You peer over at the book in his hands, surprised to find it isn’t some arcane tome. As far as you can tell, it’s just a normal adventure novel.

“Don’t let me interrupt you, you can keep reading.” Even just sitting here beside him is enough of a comfort; the tension already starting to seep out of your shoulders. You don’t want to talk about anything yet, and you figure that Gale shares the same sentiment.

“Do you want me to read to you?” Gale asks, and though you almost think he’s joking, you realise he really means it.

“That would be nice.”

And it is. You’ve always enjoyed listening to him talk; Gale has a lovely voice. He picks up where he left off when you got there. He wasn’t too far into the book yet, but he still pauses occasionally to explain something. Eventually you close your eyes, focused only on his voice, the details of his words getting blurry.

“Can we lay down?” You mumble tiredly.

“That’s a good idea,” Gale says with a smile, having already noticed the way your head has begun to dip forward as sleep begins to pull at you.

It takes a bit of coordination, but eventually you’re both underneath the thick blanket that Gale pulls tighter around the two of you. You move closer to him, your head underneath his chin, and he wraps an arm around you. He’s warm, and you feel safer than you have in weeks. He starts reading again, fingers playing idly with your hair. Within another minute, your breathing has evened out and you’re fast asleep.

Gale folds the corner of the page to mark where you two left off and closes the book before he sets it aside with the countless others. Eventually, he manages to fall asleep too.

Both of you still wake up a few times in the middle of the night. You didn’t expect this to be some miracle cure for your sleep problems, but having Gale there holding you when you wake up makes getting back to sleep a little easier. The same can be said for Gale who wakes up several times, only to be calmed down once he feels your arms around him. The two of you are able to get a good rest, and when you wake up in the morning you don’t feel the same ache in your bones as you did the past few mornings.

It becomes a sort of routine between you. In the evenings, after everyone leaves for their tents, you follow Gale to his or he follows you to yours. Then he reads to you, and sometimes you read to him, and you both let sleep find you in each other's arms. The nightmares are getting more bearable, and even on the worst nights when neither of you can sleep no matter how much you try, at least you’re there together.

---

It’s been a week since you started this arrangement. The book is nearly finished. Gale had promised to let you pick out the next one.

He brushes through your hair with one hand, the book held open in the other. You listen while he starts reading the last few pages. The hero who’s story you’ve been following through the novel culminates in one final battle against evil. It’s cliché, you think to yourself, and then smile because isn’t this exactly your own life now? And what hero story is complete without a lover to kiss them at the end, which is precisely what happens. Good prevails, and the hero gets their true love.

Gale feels your smile against his neck and, for reasons he understands but doesn’t want to admit yet, feels a warmth flood his cheeks.

“The End,” he announces, snapping the book closed with a flourish, earning a laugh from you. “What did you think?”

“It was nice. It felt more like a romance novel at the end.”

Gale hums in agreement. “Yes, but I think that's what I enjoyed most.” He puts the book down then returns to hugging you close to him.

“I agree, it felt natural.” You hope Gale understands what you mean.

He does.

The two of you have been dancing around this for a while now, neither one of you ready to acknowledge it. But there’s something about tonight that feels different.

You lean back to look at Gale’s face, bringing a hand up to guide a strand of greying brown hair behind his ear. Your hand lingers on his cheek, thumb brushing gently across his skin. He puts his own hand over yours, moving it to kiss your palm. It’s a careful gesture, tender and nervous all at the same time.

When you move to kiss him, he meets you halfway. It’s a soft kiss; a testament to these nights you’ve spent together. When you part, you rest your forehead against his. The way he looks at you makes your heart swell: like you mean everything to him.

He kisses you once more before you tuck your head into the crook of his neck. He holds you like he’s scared you’ll disappear, and you tighten your arms around him as if to answer: 'I could never.'

You both sleep the best you have in weeks, still there for each other each time you wake.

#baldurs gate x reader #x reader fic #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate gale #gale dekarios #gale x reader #gale x you #request

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ipostdumbthings · 8 months

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Romantic Headcanons for Sorcerer Reader with BG3 Companions

Astarion

Well of course he attempts to seduce you, magic is so deep inside you, there’s no telling the scope of things you could be capable of, especially when directed towards his own interests. Expect him to initially try to manipulate in the early stages, and he may get a little frustrated if you don’t fall for it. It’s not personal, of course, he has to insure his own safety. In some ways, it’s a compliment. You’re useful.

The thing that strikes him first about you, is watching you cast your magic. The effortless way it flows from you is like poetry in motion, and he’s nothing if not a man that can appreciate beauty in its various forms.

He’s a bit hesitant in confiding in you, you’re a person of considerable power, and that’s a concern for him. He doesn’t want to find himself again at the whims of a powerful person, so it’s extremely important you treat him as an equal and show that you have deep respect for his abilities.

When you do, he finds himself more comfortable than he expected in confiding in you. Afterall, you can actually help him, you can protect him if the need arises. Something he’s just so eager to return the favor on.

Shadowheart

While she respects your privacy if you don’t wish to discuss it, Shadowheart can’t help but be curious about you. Where does your magic come from? It’s an interesting mystery, that she’ll have fun hypothesizing on her own if you don’t or can’t supply her with answers. It’s more a fun thing for her to think about as opposed to something she’s determined to get to the bottom of, but the idea of being impacted by some magical being through ancestry, happenstance, or mishap deeply resonates with her.

That makes conversations with her frequent and pleasant. You’ll find yourselves initially scratching the surface on such matters, fun little chats about that and the members of the group. She enjoys these moments quite a bit, and it won’t take long before you’re having much deeper conversations.

Because you aren’t necessarily attached to a deity, she finds it a lot easier to talk about her faith with you than she may be with others. You’ll be able to learn her deep held philosophies and personal beliefs, and your status as an outsider means you might have the unbiased insight that may help reaffirm and challenge them.

She’s very fond of your magic, and the way you cast it, she swears that it feels differently when you do it.

Gale

If you’re the sort of sorcerer that looks at Wizards with reverence and respect, you’ll find that you and Gale buddy up almost immediately. In fact it becomes a bit of a running joke amongst the group (mostly from Astarion) that the two of you have formed a club for magic nerds.

Oh how dear you become to him quickly, the bond is soft and affectionate, a meeting of two like-minds and equals. He has the utmost respect for your talents and has complete trust in your abilities.

You may even become a source of inspiration for him in the form of pushing his magic or even his poetry. Your relationship is forged first on that mutual respect and adoration, it is deep and emotionally passionate.

If you’re the other sort of Sorcerer, however, the sort that likes to be snarky/smug/condescending towards Wizards, you’ll find that energy met in kind by Gale. It’ll start out sincere too, a genuinely discontentment for your dismissal of his talents. Make no mistake, he’ll serve the snark and condescension back, and he’s an expert in both.

But when you prove you're devoted to the cause, and that you’re capable and willing to help your teammates, that dynamic will start to move from mildly antagonistic to genuinely playful. Which ignites a connection of a different sort. The sexual tension is palpable.

It doesn’t mean he’s going to act on it any faster, but no one can miss the chemistry between the two of you. The emotional connection will deepen as you two navigate that dynamic, because he won’t pursue anything with anyone that he only has a physical connection with.

Lae’zel

Lae’zel is very quickly enamored with you. You naturally have skills that people spend decades honing, and you wield them with the same precision and accuracy that she wields her blade. That’s no small feat. It makes you a most attractive candidate for a partner.

You can expect her to approach you quite often for sex, she’ll take any excuse to wear you out. Especially after you do something particularly impressive.

It surprises her how much she finds herself liking your charm and charisma. The way you can guide conversations or have the force of will required to navigate any situation is what makes her start thinking of you as more than partner in sex. That doesn’t mean she wants you to try putting those moves on her by any stretch of the imagination, but she has to admit it’s impressive to witness you do it to others.

You’re one of the few humans who’s lead she will gladly follow. She respects you, and in an interesting turn of events she didn’t expect, she trusts you. You might even manage to get her to start having some deep conversations with her much sooner than most do.

Wyll

In some ways Wyll envies you, and he’ll admit to as much in his charming way. It’s hard not to wonder what his life would’ve looked like had he been born into magic instead of the path he took to it. He doesn’t say it to make you feel bad for him, but merely to express how much he respects your capabilities.

You’ll find him responsive and sensitive when you confide in him the struggles being a sorcerer can provide. He doesn’t assume your life has been easier than his, and he’s empathetic and compassionate to your history.

Respect between the two of you is like second nature, you have a sense of mutuality that many other relationships may struggle with. It’s a genuine connection between two people on equal footing, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything.

He does romanticize the story you share together, but it’s not cheesy or whitewashed. It reflects the genuine and grand feelings he has for you, the sense of beauty in the world you spark for him.

Karlach

Karlach isn’t as impressed by your magic as some of the others are, don’t get her wrong, it’s really nifty you can do that stuff, but Karlach is much more moved by actions and content of character rather than fancy things like who can cast the shiniest spell. There are a few exceptions to this, of course.

She does simply adore it when you cast the fun spells though. The first time you decide to host a little light show in camp, she is absolutely delighted. She insists that you need to do that at a party with music so she can properly dance to it.

She also quickly gets fond of yelling at you to polymorph some arseholes who fancy themselves impressive right in the middle of their monologues. You can hear her cheers for a mile if you actually interrupt some evil idiot by doing it.

The magic doesn’t make the connection you two share anymore meaningful to her, true, but it can be an amazing source of fun for her, and she desperately craves those moments after spending so long miserable.

You may find her wondering if you can cast a spell while she tosses you into a fight, like, if you cast burning hands after having been properly yeeted, would you be able to spray it across the battlefield as you went? Expect a lot of those hypotheticals. It’s one of her favorite ways to spend time with you.

Halsin

Halsin considers you proof of the powerful and wonderful capability of nature, regardless of what sort of magic you favor. After all, you are what happens when magic and man entwine completely, and you should expect him to have a romanticized idea of what that means.

He sees your casting as part of the very fabric of who you are, and he takes great pleasure in watching you cast and perform your talents. He’s just as delighted to listen to your experience and views on magic and nature.

He, probably more than anyone else in camp, is very aware of just how… delicate people of your skills can be. Not that he doesn’t think you’re capable, but is very much aware of how much he needs to to stand in front of you as a bear when danger is nearby. He often tries to position himself to make it easy to step in front of you when tension runs high.

He’s also very quick to check in with you after a fight to make sure you aren’t seriously injured. He’s quick to heal you if you need it, and will definitely carry you to safety if the need arises.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #shadowheart #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #lae'zel #wyll #wyll ravengard #karlach #halsin #romance #fluff #self insert #bg3 headcanons

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galebrainrott · 4 months

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so there's this mod that adds an outfit. i didnt pay close attention to the pants, just that it shows a good cleavage. so i was like put that on Gale to appreciate his tattoo or whatev. well. i am certainly appreciation the whole package now.

TIDDIES OUT TINY WAIST BROAD SHOULDERS

HE SHOULD BE AT THE CLUB!!!!!!

#gale dekarios #bg3 #gale bg3 #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #baldur's gate 3

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footprintsinthesxnd · 3 months

Text

Chapter 2: The Dance

Gale Cleven x Hope Armstrong (ofc)

Series Masterlist

This story is based on on the fictional portrayal of these men from the MOTA to series.

Summary: When their plane is diverted to Thorpe Abbott airfield Hope and Ruth's lives change forever. These two brave nurses must face the trials and tribulations of war, as well as suffering the heartache that war inevitable brings with it.

Collab: A Pair of Silver Wings by @major-mads

Dear Hope,

I hope this letter finds you well and that you have been keeping out of trouble. Hugh finally relented and gave me your address so I apologize for having not written sooner.

I often think of the day that we first met. I have awoken many nights thinking of you and how I wish we could have spoken longer. Forty minutes by air does not seem far and yet you feel as though you are miles from me. I can see why you are named Hope, because since our meeting, and I truly hope there will be other meetings, I feel as though I truly have something worth fighting for. I fear that Johnny also feels the same, I believe your friend Ruth has truly stolen his heart, but rest assured he is a good man and his intentions are pure. He was never the kind of man to write letters or be a one-woman man, but I feel he has changed since going into combat. Your Ruth brings out the best in him, as I feel you bring out the best in me.

I’m sure you have heard of Hugh’s latest antics, if he manages to smuggle any more women onto the base I fear he’ll be court-martialed for disobeying a direct order. Don’t worry I’ll try my best to keep him out of trouble.

I suppose the main reason for my letter is to inform you of the dance being held at the officers club next weekend. I would very much like to take you if you are free. I know Johnny is asking Ruth to go as well, so if you would like I can send a car to pick you up and bring you to the base. Of course, it will be late when the dance ends so I can arrange for you to stay in one of the Red Cross Woman’s Nissan huts, I believe they are well furnished although I have never been inside. I really do look forward to your reply and I hope that you will be able to attend.

You are in my thoughts always Hope.

Yours truly

Gale Cleven

Hope smiled, running her thumb over the crumpled letter as she read Gale’s words again. She had to admit she had thought of him often since their encounter over a week ago, not that she would admit that to Ruth, who somehow managed to bring up Johnny every chance she got.

When their letters came around this morning Hope had pocketed her letter, waiting for a quiet moment in the afternoon to truly appreciate Gale’s words. He had excellent penmanship, she noted, loving how his words seemed to glide across the page. The way he spoke caused her heart rate to quicken and she felt giddy, like a silly school girl with a crush on her classmate. Gale just seemed to have an effect on her that no man had ever had before. He was different from anyone she’d ever met. Hope had never believed in love at first sight, and she couldn’t say that she liked Gale when they first met, he’d been cocky and made assumptions, and yet he’d quickly changed into a charming young man.

Hope sighed, running her eyes over the letter again. It was 17:55 and Ruth was supposed to be meeting her at 18:00, but from the sound of the rain lashing against the windowpane, Hope hoped she’d be a little late. After receiving his letter, Hope wanted time to stand still, wanting to embrace his words and all that they meant. Hope had just finished reading the last line again when Ruth burst through the doorway. Hope didn’t look up but could hear her friend padding barefoot around the room.

"Who's the letter from?" Ruth asked, pulling on a pair of dry pants, a sweater, and some socks. Her footlocker closed with a thud and she plopped down on her creaky mattress, drying the ends of her hair with a towel.

Hope didn't look up from the page but held up an unopened letter. "You got one, too. You should open it."

"Not right now," Ruth sighed. "Right now, I need a nap."

Glancing at her with a raised eyebrow, Hope grinned. "It's from a certain Major."

In an instant, Ruth was on her feet, snatching the letter from Hope’s outstretched hand.

"If you'll excuse me," she said calmly as she excused herself for a moment.

Hope smiled in amusement as she watched Ruth try to contain herself from exploding with happiness. Chuckling at her antics, Hope returned her attention to her own letter.

The next thing Hope knew was the excitable squeal that left Ruth’s lips, “WE’RE GOING TO A DANCE!” She cried, her face lighting up like a Christmas tree, jumping up and down like an excitable child. Hope chuckled at her friend's enthusiasm, taking great delight in her friend's happiness. With everything they had been through together, they deserved to have some fun. Ruth’s jumping slowly came to an end, and the situation dawned on her.

Ruth's voice dropped to a whisper, and her eyes widened. "We're going to a dance."

Hope knew what was coming, and stood off her bed, grabbing onto her friend's upper arms gently.

"You're going to be fine, Ruth."

"I don't know, Hope. You know I don't like huge crowds," she replied.

The dark-haired nurse sighed. "Do you want to see Bucky? Yes or no?"

"Yes!" Ruth replied within a split second.

A satisfied grin worked its way onto Hope's lips as she spoke. "There's your answer."

She pulled Ruth into a tight hug, her own excitement showing through. "What are we going to wear?”

Dear Gale,

How excited I was to receive your letter. I feared my brother would be cantankerous and not share my address with you, but alas he must think you are a good man.

I would very much like to accept your invitation to the dance. I fear I have not danced for a while so my technique may not be perfect but I do very much look forward to seeing you again. I hear that Johnny is the life and soul of the party so I’m hoping he will help bring Ruth out of her shell. It means I will be free to enjoy myself without worrying Ruth is feeling left out.

I feel that in these trying times it is important to have something or someone to fight for, and I am pleased I am able to give you hope. I feel that since meeting you I often find myself wondering if we are sharing the same sky while I am in the air. What a peculiar thought really, but it is true.

I look forward to seeing you again very soon Gale. I will think of you fondly.

Hope

Gale rolled his eyes, looking over at his friend from his bed, which sat across the aisle of the officer’s hut. “I never said she didn’t.” Gale was only half listening to Bucky, too enthralled by his own letter from Hope to truly listen to his friend's conversation.

Sitting up against the wall, Bucky pointed at him. “I’ve got to show her my singing skills at the dance.”

The hut instantly broke out in complaints, each man having already heard the Major’s singing voice. “Please, Bucky,” Curtis called out. “Spare the girl some embarrassment. She’s already going as your date. That’s enough right there.”

Gale found himself trying to withhold a laugh but failed, snorting loudly and himself a glare from John.

“Laugh it up, Buck. You’re just gonna have to watch Ruth and I have fun while you sit in the corner with Hope. Does she know you don’t like to have fun?”

“Wait. My sister Hope?” Hugh piped up from the corner. He’d been reading a magazine and had been oblivious to the conversation until his sister was mentioned. His eyes now bright and his forehead creasing in concern.

“Oh, two can play at that game, Bucky,” Gale scoffed, choosing to ignore Hugh. “I’m gonna be the one sitting your crazy ass down when you start to act up. I can’t let you scare Ruth off before she gets the chance to know you.”

Narrowing his eyes playfully, Egan nodded and put down the letter. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, Buck.”

“Now wait a minute,” Hugh interrupted, his brows furrowed as he pointed to the two majors. “You two are taking Hope and Ruth to the Officer’s Club dance?”

“Yes,” they both responded at the same time.

Hugh ran a hand down his face with a sigh. “Great. You four are not leaving my sight.”

“Come on, Charlie,” Bucky laughed. “We’re not that bad.”

His eyes widened as he turned toward the Major. “Oh really? Tell that to the bar owner in Greenland.”

Groaning, Johnny sunk back down in his bed and tried to keep that rowdy night from his head. Gale just grinned, recalling the look on the bartender's face when he’d delivered the unicorn. He wished he’d been there to see the incident in person but then again the stories of the night were bad enough.

He ran his thumb over Hope’s letter again, folding and unfolding the corner as he read the letter again, imprinting the words on his brain. He could almost hear her talking to him and found himself lost in his thoughts once more.

Saturday, July 31st, 1400 HRS: AAF

Grove, Berkshire

Hope looked at herself in the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon. Despite having decided what to wear as soon as she’d read Gale's letter, she had managed to change her dress four times, before returning to her original choice.

She had to admit she looked quite pretty. Her dark hair pinned in neat rolls and the rest of her hair hanging loose in delicate curls, and she was thankful that the rain had finally stopped a few days before otherwise they really would be in trouble. Her makeup was simple yet elegant and her red lips turned up into a smile. Smoothing the creases out of her red dress she moved to the door, taking one last deep breath and putting her confident face on before stepping out.

“Now ladies, I want you to be safe tonight, be smart and don’t do anything stupid, alright?” Frank gave them yet another pep talk, adopting the worried older brother character.

“Frank, we’ll be fine,” Hope reassured him, patting him lightly on the shoulder. “You’ve met the boys, they’re good, honest men.”

Frank snorted, “Your Major Cleven might be, but the other one, well… just keep an eye on Ruth, would ya?”

Hope laughed, nodding in agreement, “I promise I’ll look out for her, Frank. I always do.” Hope turned, moving to get into the car where Ruth was already waiting, her knees bouncing nervously.

“Oh Hope, I got you these. Use them if you have to but try not to need them.” Frank threw a few packets through the window at the girls as the car moved off.

“What did he give you?” Ruth asked, unable to move her eyes away from the road ahead.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Hope replied, quickly shoving the packets of condoms into her bag and out of sight, her cheeks blushing bright red at just the thought.

1715 HRS: Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base, Norwich

Gale and John were sitting on their beds, finally sitting down after pacing up and down for the last hour listing all the reasons why the girls might not show.

“You two are being ridiculous, those girls aren’t like other women. They wouldn’t tell you they're coming and then not show,” Hugh had reassured them, after Curtis had begun grumbling about the state of the floor in the officer's hut.

“There won't be any floor left if you two don’t stop your God damn pacing.” John just glared at Curtis but Gale was inclined to agree with him.

“Curtis’ probably right, you know,” Gale fell backward onto his bed with a loud huff, the back of his dress uniform jacket would probably be creased when he stood up, but for the moment he just wanted to lie down and try to calm his nervous heartbeat. Johnny continued his pacing and eventually, Hugh and Curtis gave up and left the hut, moaning under their breaths about the Major’s ridiculous behavior.

————————————————————————

It felt as though they had been waiting for hours when the car’s dipped headlights finally appeared outside their window, causing both men to jump off the bed and in a frenzied panic straight up each other’s uniforms and check their hair in the mirror before dashing outside.

“Buck, move it,” Johnny tried pushing past his friend but Gale stuck his arm out to stop him.

“Calm down, John. Alright, we don't want to run at them and scare them off.” Both men took a deep breath before casually stepping out of the wooden door as if they were going for an evening stroll and hadn’t been pacing for hours.

“Why hello ladies,” Bucky yelled, trudging through the mud to the car. The windows were down, and they could see the girls’ conversing inside. “Don’t you both look stunning.”

Hope scoffed at John’s compliment but couldn’t help but smile as she was the grin that instantly grew on Ruth’s face when she looked his way. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned his elbows against the car's open window frame, taking in Ruth’s appearance.

Ruth grinned up at him, her dimples making an appearance. “Hello there, Major.”

“Ms. Morgan,” he greeted, before stepping back and opening the door for her. Offering her a hand, John helped Ruth out of the car, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles gently.

Hope stepped out from behind Ruth, and Gale rushed to help, taking her hand and carefully guiding her past the muddy puddle beside the car.

“You look gorgeous,” Gale spoke quietly in his normal soft spoken tone, which Hope felt was almost like a whisper in comparison to his friend's loud, outgoing nature.

“Thank you,” she gave him a small courtesy, blushing under his intense gaze, and instantly regretted her actions but her anxiety was eating away at her. She’d secretly been worrying about this evening since they had been invited, although she would never have let on to Ruth how she truly felt.

Gale pulled her closer to his side, when he noticed Hope shiver. He didn’t know whether he was being too presumptuous but he pressed a delicate kiss to her cheek, and Hope had to do everything in her power to stop her knees from shaking. ‘It was only fair, she kissed him last time’ Gale thought to himself.

“Well Ladies, your chariot awaits,” John motioned to the Willys jeep that was parked beside the Nissen hut.

“We have to go in that?” Hope asked, he eyes shooting from the jeep to Gale and back again, before tailing down to her pale blue dress that was most certainly going to be filthy by the end of the drive.

“It could be worse, I could have made us ride the bikes,” Bucky laughed, throwing his arm over Ruth’s shoulder, as he led her toward the jeep.

“I’ll have to take you on a bike ride. Buck here isn’t as talented of a rider than me, so you’re lucky. See, he hasn’t ridden in the pitch black all the way from Dickleburgh in the pouring rain half-drunk, so… ” He trailed off, realizing he probably shouldn’t have said that.

Hope couldn’t help but laugh at John’s antics, knowing that his light humour would help ease Ruth’s nerves. Gale smiled shyly, linking his arm through Hope’s, “You see what I have to put up with?” Hope nodded, watching as John chatted enthusiastically to Ruth. “The bikes would definitely be worse,” he assured her and Hope laughed in amusement.

“Yes, I can imagine they are.”

“I looked like a wet dog by the time I got back. Could’ve given Meatball a run for his money.” John laughed and Hope looked at Gale confused. She sometimes wished Gale didn’t take up all of her attention so she knew what was being discussed, but then looking up into his deep blue eyes she soon realised why.

“Meatball?” Ruth asked.

“Meatball’s a husky Demarco picked up in Greenland. He’s kinda the 100th’s mascot. The dog’s-”

“That damn dog is pure wolf and is nothing but trouble. The damn thing howls like a banshee in the Fort,” Buck interrupted as he and Hope got into the backseat of the jeep.

Settling into the driver's seat, John threw an arm over Ruth once again. “Come on, Buck,” he groaned, looking back at the Major in the rearview mirror. “He’s adorable.”

“Not when he jumps on your bed soaking wet at 3 am.” Hope gave Gale a sympathetic look and he grimaced back at her. Hope had always been a dog person and she was sure she’d love Meatball but she too wouldn’t have been impressed with that kind of wake-up call.

This Meatball seems like a character,” Ruth beamed, “I’d like to meet him.”

Johnny raised his eyebrows, tilting his head down toward her. “I think that can be arranged.” He then turned over the ignition and brought the jeep to a rumble. “You dodos ready?” he asked the group, a mischievous smile on his lips.

Taking a deep breath, Gale made eye contact with his friend, knowing immediately what was in store for them and instantly regretting not taking Hope on a lovely, romantic bike ride. “Bucky, please don’t kill-”

Before he could finish, the jeep was flying forward, its tires spraying mud behind them as they took off. John laughed loudly and tightened his grip on Ruth’s shoulder, pulling her closer against him. Gale did the same, and Hope was suddenly very grateful for their close proximity as she hung on for dear life. Hope wasn’t normally motion sick, having been used to Frank’s dangerous flying but this was something else. The jeep flew passed other airmen on their much-slower bikes.

”You’re crazy!” Ruth cried, shaking her head at John’s antics to which he just cackled.

The jeep jostled around in the mud as they rode, and after hitting, caused Hope to clutch onto Buck’s dress uniform jacket, tugging at the front. She no longer cared how precarious this situation looked, clutching desperately onto Gale like she was trying to rip his clothes off. Gale chuckled in amusement, pulling her closer to his side.

“It’s okay,” he whispered into Hope’s ear, “I’ve got you.”

Hope shivered as his breath tickled her neck, her heart pounding in her chest. Her eyes were trained on Ruth, who was desperately holding onto Bucky and as soon as she latched onto him, Bucky let off the gas slightly, slowing down to a normal speed. He wore a proud smirk, but didn’t take his eyes off of the road.

Hope relaxed a little, apologising to Gale, as she loosened her grip on him but he didn’t let go of her, continuing to hold her close to his side, seemingly very pleased with the situation.

‘God, this man is going to be the death of me’ Hope cursed, under her breath causing Gale to look down at her confused.

“What was that?” Buck called over the din of the jeeps engine, a crooked smile on his lips and Hope prayed that he hadn’t heard her.

“Oh nothing,” she replied, but Buck just smirked at her and she was almost certain he’d heard her.

Ruth and Bucky were laughing in the front and Gale chuckled at their antics. “Well, they seem to be getting on well.”

“They do,” Hope agreed, a smug smile on her lips. She knew this would be good for Ruth and it was lovely to see her enjoying herself. Although the squabbling over baseball from the front seat seemed to say otherwise.

Hope leant over to Gale, “Is Bucky a Yankees fan by any chance?” Gale nodded and Hope tutted, “Oh dear, that could be a deal breaker.”

Gale laughed, “ Please don’t tell me your obsessed with baseball too?”

Hope snorted, turning in her seat to face him, “Not a chance. I grew up with Hugh, remember? When you’ve had to listen to him blabbing about the St. Louis Cardinals every day for the last twenty odd years you wouldn’t be a fan either.”

Gale smiled softly at her, reaching forward to brush a stray hand away from her face, “Well then, I have a feeling we are going to get along nicely.”

The jeep rumbled to a stop in front of a large building, the sound of music and laughter already reaching their ears. Placing the car in park, Bucky turned toward her, his signature raised eyebrow grin adoring his lips. “I have my ways,” he winked.

John chuckled and grabbed Ruth’s hand gently, helping her out of the jeep, before Gale followed suit, helping Hope straighten out her dress.

Gale took Hope’s dainty hand in his much larger one, before tucking her into his side once more. Hope had never felt so safe as she did right now and she never wanted that to change. If only I could freeze us in this moment forever’ she thought as Bucky spoke, “Shall we?”

Ruth turned around to spare Hope a look and she grinned at her friend in return before glancing up at Gale who was already beaming back at her.

“Are you ready?” He asked, leaning into her. She grinned, nodding her head enthusiastically.

“Very ready. Although I haven’t danced in so long, you'll have to be patient with me.” Buck swallowed hard, nodding his head slowly. How was he supposed to break the news that he doesn’t dance, to the woman he invited to a dance?

John and Ruth were in front of them, and Hope reached out and squeezed her friend’s hand with a nod. Sometimes she just needed a little extra push in situations like these. Seeing the interaction, Bucky’s heart warmed in his chest at the realization that the girls’ friendship was much like his and Buck’s.

“You hear that, Buck?” John remarked, raising an eyebrow at the man. “She thinks I’m handsome.”

Gale rolled his eyes, reaching for the door when John flung them both open. “Whatever, John.”

The soft music carried through the night and when John threw open the door to the officers club, they were drawn in by the pleasant voice of Ella Fitzgerald blaring from the record player in the corner. The band was on a break and they had gathered around the bar, a few of them still with their instruments in hand. John led the group through the crowd of pilots and their dates to the dance hall, which was not yet full. Most of the couples were at the bar getting a drink to loosen up after a hard week. The 100th flew six missions in the past six days, so needless to say, the men needed a break.

“Come on, I want to introduce you to the Red Cross girls you’ll be staying with tonight. They’re a nice group, I promise,” Gale reassured Hope and Ruth, leading them towards a small group of women who were chatting in the corner.

“Good evening Ladies, this is Hope and Ruth,” Gale introduced them, motioning for Hope and Ruth to step forward. A chorus of ‘good evening Buck’ followed from the smiling women and Hope could help the pang of jealousy blooming in her chest as they smiled widely at her date. She knew Buck was a charming man, as well as very handsome and she suddenly feared that she wasn’t his only girl. Buck’s arm soon found its way to her hip, squeezing it gently and Hope cursed herself for being so insecure before.

“Hello,” Hope thrust her hand forward and several of the women shook it in return. Ruth was a little more reserved, giving the ladies a wave and a smile from her position between John and Hope.

“It’s lovely to meet you two.” One of the women spoke up, her dark curls bouncing on her shoulders and her kind eyes gleaming. “I’m Helen, and this is Tatty,” she gestured to the shorter woman beside her.

Tatty grinned and raised an eyebrow at Ruth. “You keep a close eye on this one, Ruth,” she chuckled. “The Major’s known to start trouble.”

Ruth peered up at him cheekily, her lip quirking into a smirk. “He’s said he’s gonna on his best behavior.”

As John opened his mouth to respond, Buck smacked his chest. “I’m gonna make sure of that, don’t worry.”

The small group broke out into snickers and Johnny smacked Gale on the back as he playfully glared at him, the women continuing their conversation while the men ribbed each other. The Red Cross women were warm and friendly, making Hope and Ruth feel instantly safe and included among them. The duo shared a glance and knew they were going to get along well with these ladies.

“Sorry girls but I’m gonna be stealing Ruthie from you now,” Bucky interrupted, leaning down toward the group with raised brows before clutching her hand and pulling her away from the conversation. She waved goodbye and followed him through the crowd, her dark dress swishing with each step.

Gale stepped up next to Hope, “I’ll also be stealing Hope from you, ladies, but I’m sure we’ll all be seeing each other later on.” He thanked the girls and earned himself a few low whistles as they watched him walk away.

Hope giggled, watching the blush creep up his cheeks. “Come on you must have plenty of women flirting with you,” Hope pried, hoping she wouldn’t step on his toes but also curious. Gale was a mysterious man and Hope did enjoy a challenge, Gale was a mystery she was hoping to crack.

Gale grinned, turning briefly to look at Hope, “I have some but none have caught my attention… not until… you, Hope.” Gale couldn’t meet Hope’s eyes and the flush that spread up from Hope’s chest caused her breath to catch in her throat. Could a man such as Major Gale Cleven truly be interested in a nurse like her? From the look on his face, apparently, he could.

Gale popped over to the bar, while Hope found a table, draping her coat and bag over the back of the chair. She could see Hugh from across the hall and waved at him but he seemed too preoccupied chatting to Curt and several women to notice her. Gale came back with a gin and lemonade and a ginger beer.

“ I see Sparky’s got his entertainment for the evening. I swear if he tries to smuggle any more women into the officers hut it might as well be renamed a brothel,” Gale laughed and then remembered the company he was in. Luckily, Hope laughed too, obviously well aware of her brother's antics.

“That’s a new nickname, Sparky. How’d he manage to get that one?”

Gale took a long sip from his drink, his forehead wrinkling as he mulled over the question, “Well, Bucky had a problem with his jeep last week so our engineer over there said ‘Don’t you worry, Bucky I’ll fix it for you’. So Hugh’s there under the bonnet cursing and moaning, pulling things around before he tells Bucky to turn on the ignition. So Bucky’s there trying and trying to start this thing. Curtis comes along asking what the matter is and your brothers only gone and left the spark plug on the floor. Put it back in and the jeep was working, good as new.”

Hope could no longer contain her embarrassment, running her hand down her face, as she tried to contain her laughter. “Oh no. I swear his not normally that bad. I promise. He’s generally a very good engineer.”

Gale chortled, “I’ll take your word for that.”

Trying to change the subject away from her brother’s embarrassing behaviour, Hope noticed Gale wasn’t drinking alcohol. “You don’t drink?” Hope asked, taking a sip from her drink and enjoying the satisfying burn as it slipped down her throat mixed with the bubbles of the lemonade.

“No, never do,” Gale replied plainly, linking his hand with Hope’s across the table they were seated at. Hope smiled back at him, worried that she’d ruined the mood but too curious to leave it there.

“How come?” Once again Hope found herself prying when she should know better. Gale stayed silent for a moment and Hope wondered if she really had put her foot in it this time.

“My dad drank… a lot when I was a kid, and he liked sports. He liked to bet,” Gale trailed off, his eyes glazing over as he stared straight ahead. Hope nodded, understanding the situation, and squeezed his hand reassuringly, bringing Gale back to the present. He smiled weakly at her.

“So, tell me about yourself. What was young Hope Armstrong up to before the war?”

Hope laughed, “I wouldn’t say young. I’ll be twenty four in September.”

Gale laughed, “Good to know. I’ll add the date to my diary.” The pair broke into a fit of laughter. “But seriously, tell me about yourself.”

Hope pondered for a few seconds, debating what she should reveal to him, “Well, I was born in Missouri. I went to Stephens Junior College for Women in Columbia where I study biology and I worked as an orderly in the local hospital. It’s where I decided to become a nurse,” Hope paused, noticing how Buck was watching her intently, seemingly hanging off every word. He genuinely seemed interested in what she was telling him, which surprised Hope. Most men only asked the question on autopilot and didn’t really care what response they got. “I started my nursing training four months before the war started in Europe. I qualified in ‘42 and I signed straight up for flight nurse training.”

Gale nodded, taking a sip of his ginger beer, “and then you met Ruth?”

Hope shook her head, “No I didn’t meet Ruth until December ‘42 when we were paired together. They wanted someone more senior with the less experienced nurses and because of my previous hospital experience and an extra year training apparently I was senior,” Hope laughed. It had always amused her that she was the younger nurse but also the senior one.

Gale nodded, “And that was the birth of the ‘Skytrain Girls’.” Hope laughed but Gale just nodded, “It’s what Hugh calls you.”

“Of course he does,” Hope sighed. “So now it’s your turn. Tell me about the infamous Gale Cleven.”

Gale chuckled, “Okay… well I was born on 27th December 1918 in Lemmon, South Dakota. I was at the University of Wyoming but I left my studies to become a bomber pilot. That’s where I met Bucky, in flight school. It’s where I became Buck.” He laughed. Hope’s forehead creased as she thought over Gale’s words.

“So he named you after himself?”

“Not quite. Apparently I look like a guy called Buck back in Wisconsin.” The pair found themselves laughing once more and any nerves that Hope had were quickly being diminished. Talking with Buck was easy and she found her heart rate increased as Gale’s eyes met hers once more.

Their eye contact was broken when John fell into the chair beside Hope, an almost-full pint of beer in his hand.

Hope scanned the area, noticing the absence of her friend. “Where’s Ruth?”

“In the restroom,” Bucky replied, his eyes drifting to the stage.

Gale watched him carefully noting the thoughts behind his stare, “How’s it going, John?”

He took another gulp of his pint, wiping the foam off his mustache as he raised his eyebrows and spoke enthusiastically. “You know she’s a teacher?”

Hope nodded, her smile widening as she watched the man get excited about Ruth. “Yep. She loves music, too, and I’ve heard you might have a slight thing for it.”

Without a word, he fell back against the chair, his gaze looking up at the ceiling. “Buck, Buck, Buck. Don’t let me drop the ball on this one.” He looked over at the other major, the corners of his eyes crinckled as he smirked. “That was a sports reference if-”

“I know what it means, John.”

A few moments of silence passed between the trio, and Hope was about to speak when Johnny beat her to it. “Buck, do you think I should sing?” John looked at the pair, deadly serious, and waited for Gale’s response.

“No, you said you’d be on your best behavior. Remember? What happened to five seconds ago with “not dropping the ball?” Gale gave his friend a sideward glare, still looking at Hope. John went to stand up and Gale’s arm flew out, shoving him back down in his seat. “What did I tell you, Bucky? You said you really like Ruth, so don’t screw things up with her.”

“Yeah, but she’ll like my singing, right Hope?” Hope knew John meant well, but she also knew what Ruth was like, she hated being embarrassed unless she wasn’t the only one being embarrassed. It didn’t really make sense, but it was just how it was for the blonde. Things weren’t as bad as long as she wasn’t alone.

“How about I sing with you?” Hope suggested, looking Bucky dead in the eye. A wide grin spread across the pilot's face and he nodded enthusiastically.

“See Buck, ya girl knows how to have fun. Too bad she’s stuck with you,” Johnny quipped before chugging the rest of his pint.

Gale’s face seemed to drop and Hope squeezed his hand again, “Hey, I don’t have to do this…”

But the smile quickly returned.

“No, no, you go for it. Knock ‘em dead, Beautiful.” Hope grinned, quickly downing the rest of her drink and taking John’s hand as he led her across the crowded dance floor to the microphones in front of the orchestra.

An uptempo, big-band version of “It Had to be You” filled the air as they got positioned at the front of the room. As soon as the guys saw Bucky step behind the mic, they collectively groaned, knowing what was coming. Hope swayed to the beat as she waiting for their queue, and a wide grin formed on her lips when she looked over to see Gale shaking his head at her, unable to hide his own smile. Stuck in the moment with Buck, she missed the queue, but Johnny sure didn’t. The second his loud voice filled the dance hall, she instantly realized why Buck had been so adamant against the Major singing. She had to stop herself from bursting out into laughter as he began to sing while animatedly dancing to the music.

“It had to be you,

It had to be you.”

Hope then joined in, her sweet voice making Johnny’s more bearable. From his position in the corner, she could see Gale’s eyes widening at hearing her sing for the first time.

“I wandered around and finally found

The somebody who,

Could make me be true,

Could make me be blue,

Or even be glad, just to be sad,

Thinking of you.”

The nurse’s eyes wandered the crowd for a moment, but Gale’s infectious smile dragged her back back to him. at her as she sang them.

“Some others I’ve seen,

Might never be mean,

Might never be cross,

Or try to be boss,

But they wouldn’t do.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Bucky reach a hand out to the crowd, and when she looked closer, she realized he was pointing to Ruth, who stood in the back of the crowded hall with a blissful dimpled smile. The look of pure adoration on her friend’s face sent a surge of happiness through Hope. She hadn’t seen the blonde so happy for as long as she could remember.

Somehow, the rowdy and boisterous man beside Hope was able to bring out the person that she’d been trying to since they’d met.

“For nobody else gave me a thrill,

With all of your faults, I love you still,

It had to be you,

Wonderful you,

It had to be you!”

Hope decided to let Johnny have the grand finale and stepped back from the microphone. Based on the performance so far, she knew whatever was coming would be good.

“Baby, It had to be you,

Wonderful you,”

As the last note approached, Johnny extended his arms wide, sweeping them through the air in a grand gesture. The men were used to his antics at that point, so they were prepared, but everyone else’s eyes were on him expectantly.

“IT HAD TO BE YOUUU!” he belted out, his strained voice overpowering the music, causing a mix of groans and laughter to ripple through the crowd.

As the final notes of the song faded away, the room erupted in applause and cheers, most of them just glad Johnny was getting off the stage. He motioned to Hope and she took an elaborate bow, swishing her dress to the side and blowing a kiss to Buck, who caught it and held it against his chest. John then took a theatrical step back from the microphone, raised one arm high in the air, and with a dramatic flare, bowed deeply to the crowd. Hope took this as her sign to escape, scurrying off the stage and into the arms of her awaiting Major.

“You have the most beautiful voice,” Gale spoke softly, although no one around them would hear the news of John on stage.

“Thank you,” she whispered back, enjoying the burning sensation of Gale’s hand on her lower back. “Do you want to go outside where it’s quieter, I can’t hear myself think?” Hope suggested and Gale nodded, leading her through the crowds of people, his hand never once leaving her back.

————————————————————————

The cool evening air bit at her bare arms and she suddenly wished she hadn’t left her coat on the table. Gale noticed and instantly removed his dress uniform jacket, draping it around her shoulders.

“Can’t have a beautiful lady, such as yourself, getting frostbite now can I,” Buck joked, causing Hope to laugh at his chivalry.

“I hardly think I’m gonna get frostbite, Gale. It’s July,” Hope laughed, but seeing the way Gale’s face dropped broke her heart. “I don’t mean that I don’t want your jacket though… because I do. I’m glad you offered me your jacket. I really do appreciate it,” Hope stumbled over her words, cursing her anxiety but Gale just smiled, running his thumb over her cheek and tucking the stray hairs behind her ear.

Gale’s eyes suddenly diverted to the sky and he pointed upwards, just in time for Hope to see a shooting star, “Make a wish, Beautiful,” Gale whispered in her ear. Hope found herself wishing that the night would never end, that she could stay in Gale’s arms where they were safe forever. It was just a dream, and no sooner had the star appeared it was gone.

“What did you wish for?” Gale asked, noting the sadness that adorned her features, but Hope shook her head.

“If I tell you it won’t come true.”

“Well, we can’t have that then, can we? Especially if it was a good wish,” he uttered, his voice low and his eyes looking dark in the shade of the moon.

“It was a good wish,” Hope assured him. She reached up, running her thumb over his cheek.“I could just stare at you forever,” she whispered, enjoying how Gale’s eyes closed and he exhaled deeply into her touch.

“I don't ever want this night to end,” he murmured against her lips before leaning in. Hope had imagined kissing his lips before, how they might feel against hers, what he’d taste like. In reality it was so much better, not only did his lips mold perfectly to hers, but his hands came to rest on her hips pulling her flush against his chest as their hearts pounding in sync with each other.

“I hate to move too fast or be presumptuous, but never want to kiss anyone else for as long as I live,” Gale admitted, nuzzling his nose into her collarbone, sighing softly. His breath tickled but Hope pulled him closer, running her fingers through his blond locks and scratching at his scalp.

“Well it's a good thing you won't have to then,” she smiled into the night, enjoying Gale’s content sighs as she continued to stroke his hair, “Because you can kiss me for as long as you want to.”

“Hope? Is that you?” Hugh bellowed, rushing out from the side door of the hall, her bag clutched in his hand, the pair’s best friends on his heels. Ruth grimaced at the sight, and John pursed his lips, his moustache raising slightly.

Gale pulled away quickly but left his hand resting on her hip as he assessed the situation.

“Sparky, what’s got you in such a tizz?” He laughed and instantly regretted it when several condom packets went flying towards his face.

“Don’t you Sparky me, Asshole!” He hissed at Gale before turning towards Hope. “What the hell are you doing with these, Hope? Did he give them to you?” Hugh demanded, fist clenched at his side as Hope gathered up the packets, shoving them deep into her coat pocket. Her face was on fire and she couldn’t bear to turn to see Gale’s expression.

“So that’s what Frank gave you,” Ruth muttered under her breath from beside Johnny, whose expression morphed into one of amusement. Buck was always so straight-laced, and John found it humorous to see his friend in such a situation. Despite this, he was ready to step in at any moment to break up anything before it got out of hand.

“I wasn’t going to use them. They aren’t even really mine! Frank made us take them to be safe, but Hugh, I swear it’s not what it looks like,” Hope pleaded, removing herself from Gale’s side to go to her brother. “Hugh, I swear, I just shoved them in my bag on the way.”

She stopped for a minute, eyeing her brother suspiciously.

“Hang on, why are you going through my bag?” The nurse snapped, grabbing the small leather purse from his hands.

“You always carry first aid stuff with you and I cut my finger on some broken glass,” Hugh admitted sheepishly, holding up his bloodied finger. Sighing, Hope took hold of her brother's hand and assessed the damage.

“I do have some stuff in my bag,” she sighed again. “Go inside and wash your hands. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Watching her brother sheepishly retreat, Hope’s gaze moved to Ruth’s. The blonde sent her a raised brow, but Hope just rolled her eyes and shook her head. Ruth grinned at the realization she wasn’t the one with the rosy hue on her cheeks for once. From above her, John smirked and winked at Gale, who shot a ‘I can’t deal with you right now’ glare back at him. Taking that as their queue to leave, he tugged Ruth over to the door and held it open as she walked through, giving the couple one last glance before shutting the door behind him.

Hope turned to Gale, her eyes full of tears and her cheeks red from embarrassment. Gale just opened his arms up, pulling her into a hug and kissing her forehead.

Hope mumbled into his chest, “I hope you’re not disappointed that I said I didn’t want to… you know… tonight.”

Gale just chuckled, kissing her forehead once more, “not at all. We only met just over a week ago. I’d never expect anything like that from you until you’re ready.” He was unphased by the situation and just held her for a little longer, until Hope decided it was probably time to patch up her brother.

“Come on, I can’t have you going back inside on your own.” Gale linked his arm through hers but Hope didn’t move.

“Could we stay out here a little longer?” She asked, biting her lip and Buck had to stop his sudden intake of air as he looked at her in the moonlight.

Her hair hanging loose in curls around her face, her big brown eyes looking at him nervously.

“Of course,” Buck reassured her, bringing her back into his chest for a hug. The music from the officers club drifted outside through the night and the music of Glenn Miller filled the darkness. Hope found herself swaying in Gale’s arms and he swayed along with her, his hand moving to the small of her back.

As they swayed together Hope couldn’t help but chuckle, “And to think that you said you don’t dance.”

Gale laughed, looking down at the beautiful woman in his arms, “Well, maybe I just needed to find the right partner.”

The night soon came to an end, the music dying down and the airmen and their dates eventually scattering across the base.

After patching up a rather embarrassed Hugh, who couldn’t apologise enough and was eventually escorted away by an amused Curt, Hope spent the rest of the evening cradled in Gale’s arms. They had spent the last half an hour swaying slowly to the music that played softly through the window and chatting quietly until 11 pm came and the music died down.

“I suppose we should start heading back to the Red Cross barracks,” Gale whispered slowly even to Hope’s ear and she reluctantly pulled away, nodding sadly.

“I don’t want this night to end. I’ve never had an evening like this with a man such as yourself,” Hope spoke softly, causing Gale to smile and her sudden shyness.

“I don’t want this evening to end either but I have a feeling your brother will have my guts if I’m late back,” he laughed and Hope giggled too, clutching Gale’s hand.

“Come on then, Major.”

They walked slowly, Gale’s hand resting on her hip and Hope’s body pressed closely to his body. Gale had draped his flying jacket around her shoulders and the fabric smelt strongly over his aftershave that had been intoxicating her all evening. She could happily stay wrapped in his embrace forever but they all too quickly approached the Nissan hut inhabited by the Red Cross ladies.

Hope noticed John Egan strolling away from the hut, a smug smile on his lips as he punched the air, shouting enthusiastically before continuing his retreat into the night.

“Well someone is pleased with himself,” Gale chuckled, and Hope nodded in agreement.

“I’ll have to ask Ruth if she had a good night.”

Before they reached the door of the Nissan hut, Gale stopped Hope, spinning her around to face him. “Hope, I had a really great time tonight. I never thought I’d get to spend such an amazing evening with such a beautiful woman, who has the voice of an angel.”

Hope blushed, averting her eyes to her feet, “Thank you,” she mumbled. Gale reached down, cupping his fingers under her chin and raising her head to face him.

“I really like you, Hope,” he whispered, before his lips captured her, moving gently but firmly and rendering Hope breathless. Without a second thought, Hope grabbed onto the front of his jacket, pulling him behind one of the Nissan huts, their lips never leaving each other. Gale mumbled something under his breath but Hope didn’t hear him, too busy concentrating on the feeling of his lips on her neck and his hands travelling up her sides.

Hope could have very easily given in there and then, absolutely ready to find a quiet room and continue their advances but she knew they shouldn’t.

“Gale? Gale, we can’t,” she whispered, her words coming out in small short gasps.

Gale nodded, stepping away quickly, “I know. I’m sorry if I overstepped the…”

“Not at all,” Hope quickly reassured him, clutching his face in her hands and bringing him down for another gentle kiss. “I want this too, but we can’t, not yet.”

Gale nodded her, kissing her once more, “Good night, Hope Armstrong. Sweet dreams.”

Hope felt lost as she walked away from Gale, but the warm embrace of his flight jacket cradled her as she walked to the front door. Her hands grasping the handle she turned once more to see the figure of the mysterious Gale Cleven disappearing into the night.

Tags: @georgieluz @malarkgirlypop @docroesmorphine @major-mads @violetdaze25 @bcofl0ve @precious-little-scoundrel @b00ks1ut @liebgottsjumpwings

#on a wing and a prayer #gale cleven #hope armstrong #Hugh Armstrong #Ruth Morgan #john egan #masters of the air

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ransprang · 4 months

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thank you to @astarionbbg for your support <3 we hope you like your match up

if anyone else wants a match up this is our ko-fi

your match up is....

ASTARION!!!

SFW

How you met: You felt a light brush against your thigh as you were walking down the street. Boxing had honed your reflexes, so you quickly grabbed whatever it was which brushed against you. You found yourself holding hands with a pale haired elven man. “Oh dear, I really can explain,” Astarion drawled. Although annoyed, at being pickpocketed, you decided to hear him out. Astarion went on to complain about how he desperately needed nicer clothes, since his although fashionable were looking a bit worn out. He talked about how this never happened to him and that he usually was usually very skillful but everyone rolls a critical failure somtimes. You found his personality charming enough and understood the pain of not being able to dress how you wanted to. You decided to help him out and take him to a shop which you knew sold good clothing at lower prices. By the end of your little impromptu adventure, Astarion had already set his mind on seducing you.

Weightlift Astarion as much as you like, he loves it. He loves watching your muscles flex as you lift him up and off of his feet. It sure is an easy way to get his attention. You know those tiktoks where the gf and bf try different exercises using the other person? Like squats and hip thrusts. He’d be down to try, “Come darling, let’s have a bit of a competition shall we, hm? Just to pass the time?”

The SECOND y’all get to the city, Astarion would drag your cute ass to the Facemaker’s Boutique and get you both matching, tailored gothic fits. Because who said you can’t get rid of tadpoles in style? And of course, he pays for everything (with stolen money).

When you both are cuddling with your back against his naked chest, he runs his hand through your hair and lightly brushes against your ear piercings, admiring them.

Astarion’s secretly a big reader (he’s the only one in camp apart from Gale who owns a book). You both would start an intimate book club together, and enjoy each other’s cutting remarks about sub-par books as well as the rare appreciative comments.

Although Astarion prefers being protected than being super protective himself, once he recognises how precious you are to him he would be very protective of you. He doesn’t have many people in his lives who he cares for and who in turn care for him.

Astarion’s a pretty insecure fella, and would always be concerned about doing something wrong or driving you away. His heart is fragile and he has many issues about relationships. Your love language being affirmations, would help soothe his worries.

He would be supremely pleased if you ever asked to draw him and capture his likeness. He can never see himself in a mirror, but would be overjoyed to see himself reflected in your eyes and eternally captured in your art. He would heavily suggest you draw him in the nude.

Astarion would eventually ask to join your DnD group. Although not immediately understanding the appeal at first would warm up to it once he realised he could cause all kinds of havoc. He would strictly play as power-hungry elvish rogues.

Astarion, being assertive and passionate himself, is drawn to your energy. He admires your wit and sarcasm, and the banter between you two would be a form of playful courtship.

NSFW

Whether you are bulking or cutting, Astarion enjoys feeling up your muscles and softer parts. As a man who has been with people of all shapes and sizes, he would enjoy your body no matter what you look like. He cares about who you are on the inside, just as you love him for more than just his body.

Astarion enjoys getting you to sit on his face with your muscular thighs enveloping his face, he first licks his tongue up and down your labia. Then he parts your lips, sucking on your labia, and moving to your clit. Each flick of his tongue on your sensitive bud makes your thighs push closer onto the side of his face. He groans as he feels you squirm above him.

Watching you shadow box makes him horny. He’ll come up behind you as you finish a set of punches and snake his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. You gasp as you can feel his hard clothed cock push into your ass.

Astarion loves biting for obvious reasons. He will kiss, suck and bite on your skin. He loves it when you moan because of him.

Fashion? Astarion has the sexiest lingerie known to mankind. He satin cock warmers, and rubs it on his dick before taking them off, to get himself extra hard before fucking you.

Astarion likes to carry you and have sex with you against a wall, he’s strong and has toned muscles. When he wraps your legs around your waist you can feel them flex as he pumps you.

He really likes your angel fangs and when he kisses you he bites your lower lip softly with his fangs. Just to remind you who the real vampire is.

Astarion asks to drink your blood before sex sometimes, after drinking he penis begins throbbing and becomes extra sensitive. Just waiting to be buried in your soft warm pussy.

He uses his finger to take his precum and asks you to taste it. “I want you to know that I am delicious, darling.”

Astarion would always remind you that he loves you and he’s all yours as you are his, after sex. He can get a little poetic about it but it’s hard to pay attention to his words as his dick flops around has he makes his little speech of love.

your angel fangs,

admins sar, san & sav

#bg3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #astarion smut #bg3 smut #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion fic #baldurs gate astarion #astarion baldur's gate 3 #astarion romance #astarion x y/n #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion fluff #astarion fanfic #neil newbon

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precious-little-scoundrel · 2 months

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I know you'll appreciate this but imagine Alex sketching out a portrait of you and keeping it respectful despite the other boys ribbing him that he can draw you how he wants to imagine you and he's just like, "Nah, I want her to be how she truly is. Not some parody of herself." Plus he's never had the privilege of seeing you sans clothes so how would he know what you looked like, anyway? Cue the guys respect meter shootin' way up; Gale would be sitting there like "is it possible to like this guy even more??? Bc i certainly do now!"

Should I write it? Lord in heaven tell me no.

STEPH: I might have to prosecute if you don’t. This man has me swooney and then add to it the way you‘ve caught his tone so perfectly?? I am obsessed. Already have been at the post war “respectable husbands” club he and Gale belong to

#sorry I am obsessed with this girls dress and then his tiny shirts ok?? thank you Ashley for sending my way #mota asks #masters of the air #alex jefferson #alex x dahlia

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baldurspeen69420 · 2 months

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Get To Know My Tav! (Part 2: Electric Boogaloo - Sophie Edition)

I did one of these for my first BG3 OC Byron a long time ago and I've been wanting to do one for Sophie since forever, now I finally have a minute! These are just so much fun to do. Might even do my Honor Mode Githyanki next if I get around to it!

Sophie Beaumont - Half-Orc - Champion Fighter - She/Her - 31

favorite weapon: She's a built lady with the power of bonking on her side, so she tends to lean towards various hammers, clubs, maces, and blunt objects. But her favorite gear is definitely her shield to protect her teammates.

style of combat: Tackles combat with a more defensive weapon and shield style. Fighting is always a last resort even though she's skilled at it, but Sophie is someone who'd always prefer to mediate her way out of conflict when possible.

most prized possession: Her favorite childhood book of poetry. The cover is battered and the pages are yellowed, but it's filled with doodles and notes in the margins from over the years.

deepest desire: To find her place in the world and someone to share it with. She's wandered a long time feeling lost and alone, so she really just wants a new start.

guilty pleasure: Definitely has an appreciation for the more frivolous pleasures of life, which people don't usually expect from a seasoned mercenary. Enjoys chocolates, makeup, soft clothes, and a warm bath fit with salts and candles.

best-kept-secret: Under that quiet and serious disposition is a deeply lonely person who wants to be understood and seen as more than a half-orc or soldier for hire.

greatest strength: Her compassionate heart and also rippling abs. Any problem that can't be solved with empathy and communication can be solved by punching it really hard.

fatal flaw: Low self-esteem city. Struggles to see her own worth and value, which can lead to her accepting treatment that's less than what she should be receiving. Very insecure about her half-orc heritage and appearance.

favorite smell: Baking bread and fresh flowers.

favorite spell or cantrip: Sophie has never had a talent for magic and isn't particularly well-versed in it. Her experience with Gale where he shared a bit of weave with her and helped her cast a spell was her first time ever experiencing magic for herself, and is one of her fondest memories of their tadpole adventure.

pet peeve: People assuming she's uneducated, brutish, or violent due to her half-orc heritage. She's so used to being called all kinds of things to the degree it hardly registers in the moment, but every comment still cuts and stings.

bad habit: Has accustomed herself to self-sacrifice and receiving very little in return. Doesn't expect much from anyone which can cause her to be distrustful of others intentions. Very much a mindset of "expect the worst" minus the flipside of hoping for the best.

hidden talent: A surprisingly skilled needleworker. Spent a lot of time shut away in her home growing up, and sewing/embroidery was one of the only things she and her mother did together that gave them common ground.

leisure activity: Tends to run low on social battery and go off on her own later in the day at camp. Reads, tailors her clothes, and writes poetry when no one is around. Spends a lot of time in the mornings training and keeping fit, however. Enjoys sparring with Karlach in particular since her intensity and aggressive fighting style keeps Sophie on her toes.

favorite drink: Loves a cup of warm milk with cinnamon and chamomile, not a treat she gets to enjoy often.

comfort food: She's spent a lot of time on the road eating rabbit and roughage, so any chance to indulge in sweets from the city is a blessing from the gods. Pastries filled with chocolate or cream are her favorites!

favorite person: Gale and her grew very close throughout their journey together, but she's also good friends with Wyll and Karlach. Halsin's flirtations (while flattering and flustering in equal measure) were eventually gently turned down in favor of the affections of the camp wizard and resident chef.

favored display of affection (platonic and/or romantic): She's a romantic at heart but definitely prefers simple gestures when around others. Basic things like holding hands make her warm inside. She hasn't had someone before who's proud to be with her, so even small displays of affection in public are a change of pace and very welcome.

fondest childhood memory: Her childhood was definitely not a happy one by any stretch, but she'll always remember the first day she snuck away to go past the walls of Baldur's Gate for a festival. After seeing the city from its outskirts for so long, even being in the lower city was nothing short of magical. She realized how much of the world she hadn't experienced and how much was truly out there beyond her distant mother and childhood home.

Just putting out a tag to @kelandrin to see this post because they've always been a number 1 Sophie fan and their asks have meant so much to me in the past 🥺

#bg3 #baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 tav #bg3 oc #tag game #sophie hours

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archetypal-archivist · 1 year

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A Kinder World AU- Part 2

Las Casualonas

masterlist

When Foolish first moved to Quesadilla island, he felt incredibly out of place and when that feeling didn’t fade away after the first month or two, he used the energy he put into worrying into something he liked better- building. Quesadilla’s lone night club, Las Casualonas, is the result. As a way of giving back to the community, it was a resounding success, and it’s now a popular tourist destination for mainlanders hoping to get away for a bit. The night club is staffed by people Vegetta hired, including a figure named Cucurucho as the bartender and a series of identical siblings who all dress in black and green as the wait staff. Mariana also works here, if against his will- Vegetta had blackmail and he needed a job. However, given that there was no dress code, Mariana had the last laugh: he shows up to every shift in a maid dress because if he has to be uncomfortable serving drinks, he’s going to make everyone else uncomfortable too.

1) The main entrance to the night club is right on the water and it feeds into the check-in desk, coat closet, and a lounge where those who are particularly drunk may sleep off the worst of their drinks if it isn’t safe to go home. On a busy night, it’s not uncommon to find a whole fleet of row boats and small watercraft anchored near this front door. It can cause a fair bit of traffic, which the locals find hilarious.

2) The largest tower contains the bar, the kitchen, the bathrooms, and a small dining area. It’s usually very noisy and crowded in here and music from the DJ booth on the upper patio is fed directly into all levels of the tower through an elaborate speaker system set up by Maximus. Although the man isn’t official Casualonas staff, he works enough odd jobs in the community that it isn’t any surprise that he has something of an executive position here too. Foolish, at least, appreciates the help and Maximus’ fondness for DJing on Fridays is a boon to everyone with a love for a good party.

3) The lower deck makes for a good place to talk and smoke, the distance from the DJ station and the fairy lights strung about giving this place a quieter air. It also serves as a place of respite for those who dislike the drunken flirting and chaotic atmosphere of parties. Spreen in particular has a corner behind a potted plant where he stores his stash of weed, the better to distance himself from the noise of it all. If asked politely, he may even share.

4) The upper deck is where most of the dancing happens and it’s where the DJ of the night does their thing. Who is playing varies from night to night, but it’s often on a volunteer basis- many mainlanders hoping to show their skills and pass out CDs of their mixes come here to play. Of course, that leads to the music quality varying a great deal too, but when the drinks start flowing, no one really cares about that. Usually. If the music is truly horrific, the DJ will get booed off stage or shoved into the water below “accidentally” and one of the locals will pull out their personal instrument and play for the night. When Missa is home, this is one of his favorite things to do and given how often bad DJs are scheduled for the days when he’s around, one wonders if this is Vegetta’s way of getting the man to play his guitar more. The extra money that rolls into the night club when Missa plays may have something to do with it too.

5) Las Casualonas is built to be incredibly sturdy, with a heavy frame and solid steel pylons dug deep into the bedrock below to keep the gleaming white towers supported in even the worst storm. It is Foolish’s safety-first mindset when building that kept the night club above water when the worst storm in Quesadilla’s history hit. Many of the island’s residents were trapped inside for the duration of the storm, watching from the double-thick windows as rain and gale force winds pounded against the glass. Quackity and the Brazilians were among those stuck within the towers during the storm, which may have saved their lives as the tempest nearly took Tilin’s life and destroyed much of the Brazilians’ home, although they only found out later once the worst had seemingly past.

#qsmp #quackity smp #mc #a kinder world au #las casualonas #my writing #townscaper

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thegrayascendancy-if · 7 months

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How would you rank the LI's from best to worst singer? (Also just for fun, pretend this is a world where karaoke exists, who would belt out the most songs?)

This was not easy to answer, but what a fun question!

Yvette/Yves: Y is quite pleasant to listen to, but their primary vehicle of capturing the audience is charisma, working the crowd. They'd be a hit at something like karaoke because of that, but they would perform one, at most two songs and bow out with dramatic flair under the excuse that "too much of a good thing would be spoiling it".

Gale: for some reason I imagine him to have quite a versatile voice, but there is no circumstance under which that would surface. In some kind of a modern AU, he'd enjoy going to a karaoke with friends but wouldn't star himself, just sing along to whatever is on really well 😅

Darla: actually good but would need coaxing to start singing, some positive encouragement. In a karaoke scenario, she can get persuaded by someone like the MC or Ianthe, then she'd get genuine appreciative applause and would get super flustered but also pleased by such a reaction.

Jax: they respect the art, the skill and the work that goes into it, but they are dead set on maintaining they are no good at it and would not even try. Tough to imagine them in a setting of a karaoke club though. As much as they understand the emotional release of singing a song badly to a group of friends and/or strangers, they do not want to be on the receiving end of it 😌

Ianthe: she's nice to listen to because her voice is already quite smooth. If she had a choice, she'd want to experiment a lot, trying different genres and vocal ranges, and would commit to a bit whether that works or not!

Arthur: doesn't sing, never thought about it. In a karaoke setting, he might go for some pop-rock song, but only as long as everyone understands he is doing this i r o n i c a l l y (the truth of the matter is that he would be very self-conscious, god forbid he does that in front of the MC he's into!).

#the gray ascendancy #ch: arthur #ch: darla #ch: gale #ch: ianthe #ch: jax #ch: y #ch: all

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danse--macabre · 3 months

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Hello ☺️ 1, 4, 8, 13, and 19 for the For the "20 Tav QOTDs"

hello!! this is such a lovely ask, thank you, so many questions! <3

I'm going to answer for Tirazel (Tav) & Ch'lakhou (Durge). Both romanced Astarion :)

what do they smell like at their freshest? (and/or after a tenday. your choice)

For Tirazel, the answer is soft lavender soap and the searing smell of fresh magic. After a tenday, it's corpses: she's a necromancer.

For Ch'lakhou, earthy scents and a dash of cinnamon. Also: they can never quite get the blood out of their fingernails so there'll be a hint of that on their hants. After a tenday, it's all blood and guts: they're the dark urge.

4. how do they sleep with their LI (what position, does one steal the blankets, is one too hot/cold, etc)?

Tirazel sleeps like a burrito with as many blankets and pillows as possible -- and they're all silk, if possible. She cannot be touched during sleep else she'll wake up, so often they both lie, vampire-like and completely flat on a king size bed, with Astarion caving and slipping in her arms during the morning for a cuddle just before she wakes. (They switch who is little/big spoon)

As for Ch'lakhou, they're an asshole in bed. A blanket thief who takes up half the bed. Astarion's hands are FAR TOO COLD for them, so they deal with this with a coal fire, enchanted blankets, and a creature who sleeps with them in bed to generate warmth because they also INSIST on cuddling if Astarion is going to share a bed (They are little spoon). See below:

8. if either, are they part of the astarion/gale book club (magic & literature) or the wyll/shadowheart book club (trashy romance novels)?

Both are in the first book club.

Tirazel overwhelmingly reads and collects books about magic. The remaining 10% is honestly a mix of satirical baldurian social comedy novels and deeply bougie 'tasteful' pornography. She would take offence to you calling her 'erotic fiction' trashy.

Ch'lakhou is a Hamlet fan. Extremely into gory revenge tragedies with fraught, violent heroes grappling with their role in society as expected by family/religion/society. They are extremely singular in their taste in reading and simply have not read anything else -- but would enjoy a trashy romance novel if you gave it to them.

13. what makes them laugh? what does their laugh sound like?

It's Astarion

Tirazel: Appreciates a good witty repartée and a sparkling intelligence in humour. HOWEVER despite appearances really not above a dumb, low brow joke or an extremely crude, dirty joke either. Astarion catches her off guard by doing both. Her laugh starts off as a practised, tinkling little thing, but if you really get her to laugh she will gigglesnort.

Ch'lakhou: Absurd humour. Antics. Gallows humour and deadpan humour about blood/guts/corpses/standard 'durge stuff'. Unfailing commitment to the bit. Being unflappable and taking the humour of a bizarre situation in one's stride. The funniest party members in their opinion are Minthara, Astarion, and Wyll for this reason. As for their laugh -- they scoff/chuckle a lot, a fair bit of wry laughter and half-smiles: to really get them to laugh is a challenge but if they do it's a terrible villainous cackle. They sound silly <3

19. do you have a playlist for your tav? if so, what’s the title + description?

I have an Astarion/Tirazel playlist called 'Bite Me' (very original; no description I'm lazy but the cover art is a fancy goblet full of a certain dark red liquid) which is a mix of 80s/90s goth, music inspired by 80s/90s goth, and a heavy amount of PJ harvey.

I don't have a Ch'lakhou playlist but I think it'd be either disco + dancy new wave (for the discordant vibes - imagine them murdering to 'disco inferno' or 'just can't get enough'), or 90s industrial. Closer by Nine Inch Nails is their theme song lmao.

#ch'lakhou #tirazel

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tavtime · 7 months

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What the Harvest Hopes For

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Rating: M Chapter: 2/? Words: 4.7k/11.2k

Ships: Astarion/Tav, Shadowheart/Tav, Halsin/Tav, Lae'zel/Tav, Karlach/Tav, Wyll/Tav, Gale/Tav, others tba

Additional tags: Polyamory, Novelization, Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, others tba

Summary: There is nothing like impending doom to make you realize how casually the powerful play dice with the lives of the small. Unfortunately for them, Sura Tav has decided she doesn't appreciate being used as currency, and she is no longer playing.

Read ch 2 below, or on AO3

The warnings about goblins proved gruesomely accurate.

As their group moved further north, the scent of fire and torn earth that rode the air near the crash faded. Instead, a new smell overtook Sura: underneath the forest scent of loam, these trails stank of drying blood. She began to sight disturbances in the landscape. In places, branches had broken or been torn from trees near ground level, bushes had been trampled, and the forest wildlife that would have ordinarily moved through the periphery of her awareness as she hiked was conspicuous in its absence. As they neared their destination she even saw the occasional little body, slicked in gore and dirt and left to rot where it fell; apparently, goblins cared nothing for collecting their dead. Violence had touched this place, and recently. She pricked her ears up, alert for any sound.

It was no surprise, then, that she heard the attack before she saw it. As they approached the grove the sounds of running beat down the road, heavy footfalls in soldiers’ boots, interspersed with the strangled shouts of pained men. With a hsst! and a wave of her hand, she dropped into a crouch, and bade the others to do the same.

The path to the grove’s entrance split at a rocky knoll and meandered around it to either side. Sura motioned to Lae’zel and Astarion, pointing with her chin. They took her meaning and split off from the group, around the base of the hill to the west. Astarion trailed Lae’zel into the shadows, daggers appearing in his hands.

Keeping low, the rest of the party crept up the hill. At its crest Sura crouched behind a boulder, and peered down at the clearing that lay before the gate.

A tiefling—not one of the pair they’d encountered earlier—stared down from atop the wall at three humans waiting at the foot of the gate. The humans appeared to be mercenaries, or adventurers, perhaps; well armed but lightly armored. One of them crushed a rag across the tricep of her sword arm, seeping with blood. Another held a shield from which protruded two crude arrows.

“Zevlor!” shouted the third, his face flushed with fury. His entire body shook. “Get your bloody arse over here and open the godsdamned gates! Hurry!”

Even as he said it, it was too late. A rising cloud of dust was visible back the way the mercenaries had come along the road, gaining ground. Whoever had given chase would be on them in seconds.

A second tiefling appeared on the wall next to the first. This man was older, spine stiff; he held himself with authority. “By the Hells, what is—Aradin! You led goblins here?!” His voice rose in pitch as he spied the approaching cloud of dust. He began to form a command: “Open the—!” But an arrow whistled past his head, and he ducked down behind the cover of the parapet.

A wave of goblins broke over the clearing. They poured in from every direction, seemed to erupt from the very ground. Gate solidly closed and to their backs, the humans tried to form a defensive line. An act of desperation: their foes outnumbered them three-to-one. Their leader raised a club, his face grim and determined.

One of the smallest goblins, faster than the others, closed on him. The creature leered, displaying its many wretched, pointed teeth, and brought its jagged blade up to strike.

Before the mercenary could so much as raise his weapon to attempt a parry, another man vaulted over the wall and landed between him and the oncoming attack, brandishing a rapier. The man’s left eye emanated an otherworldly greenish hue. With a twist of his hand, the edge of his rapier took on the same ghoulish glow. He ducked the goblin’s swing with a graceful, low half-pirouette, and ran it through at the throat. Blood fountained from the creature when he shook it free of the blade.

Enough! Sura heard Lae’zel cry in her mind. Htak’a!

There came the pull of magic behind her. Gale...? But it was prayer, not incantation, that echoed in her ears. Shadowheart stood in the center of the hill, palms extended to the heavens, face and arms swimming in oily shadows. Thick strands of blackness oozed out of the air. They curdled in her mouth, and she smiled at Sura, gone to darkness.

“Benedictus,” she rasped, and splayed her arms wide.

It felt as though she was cut free of gravity, untethered from the ground. That was the only way to describe the sensation that passed over her. Sura had been on the receiving end of clerical blessings before, but those? Those were pedestrian things. This was akin to being cradled in the cupped palm of devotion itself. Shadowheart pulled the darkness of the world into herself; she was a great sink of it, a ravenous well. Her fervor resounded out of her:

may we brandish your triumph and your blessed shadows as a mighty blade—your power be my shield—your will my dagger

Shadowheart tore blackest night out of the fabric of brightest day, and drank it down and down and down. Power torrented forth to fill the void left behind. Sura felt herself honed, furious as an arrow, all her senses alight. Her pulse pounded in her ears—her own, and her companions’. The flex of Lae’zel’s shoulders as she brought her greatsword down to cleave the skull of a snarling worg sang gloriously in her muscles. Gale’s magic crackled along her skin. And the man before the gate, who slashed his rapier through the air in great lightning arcs—she felt him, too, dimly on the edge of her awareness, but there he was. His magic was brimstone and rot on the back of her tongue; warlock’s magic. The worm in her head heaved, trying desperately to connect with the parasite she understood at once he must also bear.

Her fingers itched for a weapon she did not have.

As though he understood this yearning before she expressed it, Astarion bounded up the side of the hill, and skidded to a stop in the dirt next to her. His eyes blazed with what she felt as wild exhilaration, as intimate as her own. Blood coated his hands, slashed across his cheek and down his face. Not his own blood, as it turned out. Under one arm he carried the limp body of a goblin archer, and in his other hand...

Into her lap he dropped the most hideous bow she had ever seen—ill-used, poorly strung, the size and tension wrong for her. He cast the goblin’s body at her feet, and she saw the quiver full of arrows strapped across its back.

She could have embraced him for the ecstasy of it. Joy burned bright in her veins. It crawled its way up her throat, tore free in a whoop. She snatched up the bow, and dove for the quiver. He bared his teeth to her in a vicious grin, free and unrestrained. She understood at once that this was the first genuine smile he had offered since he met them.

His teeth were very sharp.

Good hunting, he offered. In her mind it came to her as a growl, a joy to mirror her own, and then he was off again, dashing down the hill and wading back into the goblins at Lae’zel’s side.

In truth, the fight was all but over. The humans huddled at the foot of the gate, wounded, but not mortally so. The final goblin staggered toward them. The stranger with the rapier had shattered its right kneecap, and its leg below the knee was a gruesome mess. Yet it advanced, wielding its blade as though to ask a desperate, fatal question.

There was only one answer to be given to such a query. Sura rose to her knees and drew an arrow from the quiver in one continuous motion. Her hands moved of their own volition, unburdened by thought or decision, guided by instinct and the psychic whisper of Shadowheart’s benediction. She let the arrow fly, watched the arc it described as if in a dream. The blessing flickered in her mind, one last caress before fading away, and she knew it would strike true for what seemed like ages before the tip of the projectile buried itself between the beast’s shoulderblades.

In the aftermath there came an unnatural stillness. It did not last. A sob broke the air: at least one of the goblins’ initial volley of arrows had found its mark, and a woman atop the wall fell to her knees next to the now-still body of the tiefling who had been stationed at the crank.

Zevlor’s head and chest reappeared over top of the battlement. He called out, “Open the gate! Damnation take us all, get inside before more come,” and the gate began its creaking ascent.

“Come on,” Gale said. Sura turned to find him supporting Shadowheart, her hands clutched unsteadily at his forearm.

Sura’s eyes flitted over her for injuries, but found nothing. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Shadowheart inhaled deeply, held it, and exhaled forcefully. She shook her head, and then stepped back from the wizard. “Just a bit dizzy, that’s all. It’ll pass.”

“Is that... normal for you?” Sura intended the question as simple concern. Her voice grated as she asked it, though, and she got the sense that it had come out wrong.

Shadowheart glared. “I’ve had a long day.” She started down the hill.

Sura shot Gale an inquiring look, but he only shrugged. Together, they set off after her.

--------------------

“What in the Hells do you think you’re about, leading them straight to us?! There are children here, you incompetent fool!”

“I’d like to see you do better with a horde on your arse! But that’d require you to take a risk, Gods forbid—”

“I have a duty to those in my care! A concept that is apparently beyond your grasp!”

“As though you’d ever care about anything but your rotten hide.”

The gate had barely closed behind them when the shouting started.

“What a cordial reception,” Astarion remarked drily. “They must get scores of visitors, with hospitality like this.”

“If that man is the leader of these—these teethlings, then he will know where to find the one we seek,” Lae’zel growled. She brushed past them all to the front of the group. Blood still dripped from the end of her sword, trailing wet splatters in the dust behind her. “He will tell me what I wish to know.”

“Well, he might,” Sura started. She had to jog forward three paces to catch up to Lae’zel, and laid her hand on her shoulder. Lae’zel turned her head to glare at the hand, but she stopped to listen, which Sura chalked up as a tentative success. “He might also respond poorly to threats, and call a campful of terrified people down on top of us. Hold back for a moment. Show his people we stand together. It will make moving among them easier, and faster.”

Behind her she could feel—if not see—a scowl darken Shadowheart’s face. Lae’zel searched her eyes and said nothing, her mouth pressed into a thin line. Then, with a single, affirmative jerk of her head, she fell into step at Sura’s shoulder.

The source of the commotion was not difficult to find. A path led from the gate deeper into the grove. Zevlor and Aradin stood chest-to-chest in the center of it, snarling invectives.

“You had one responsibility to this grove and everyone in it, and you failed it,” Zevlor said. “We were secure because of one man. One man! And you lost him to your ridiculous overconfidence!”

The skin over Aradin’s knuckles strained bone-white, his hands balled into fists. “Overconfidence? What would you know of overconfidence, you cowardly bastard? You almost got us killed!”

“Yet you’re very much not dead,” Sura interjected, sidling up to them. “Considering the alternatives I think that perhaps warrants a little civility? Just a touch?”

“What Aradin knows of civility would fit in a thimble with room to spare,” Zevlor fumed. He leaned forward, menacing the smaller man. “You bring death to our doorstep, and have the audacity to—”

Sura put herself between them, ignoring Aradin’s outraged harrumph at finding himself presented with her back. She raised her hands, palms out, and spoke quietly. “Peace. Your kin need you, ydvyr, more than you need to best a bull at a contest of stubbornness.”

Zevlor’s shock at being so addressed washed over him in a wave. He took a deep breath, and let it out through his nose. He seemed to deflate.

“Of course,” Aradin said snidely, over her shoulder. “Of course there’s no arguing with a foulblood except in the language it—”

Sura spun on her heel, her face a mask of sudden fury. She brought the back of her hand swinging toward his face with her momentum as she turned, freezing a hair’s breadth from his cheek.

Aradin blanched. His whole body flinched away from her.

“Walk,” she breathed. She was in no doubt that he heard her. “Tend to your people... somewhere else.”

He staggered backwards. Her companions parted around him as he receded. Gale raised an eyebrow at her. She turned back to Zevlor, feeling abruptly sheepish.

“Apologies,” she said. “I forgot myself.”

“No, my friend, the fault is mine,” he replied. “In all honesty I’d almost forgotten what it was like to be offered such grace by a stranger. Aradin’s an ass, but there’s no call to compound his stupidity with my own.” He shook his head, then offered her his palm. “That’s twice now you’ve intervened on my behalf. You have my gratitude. Call me Zevlor.”

“Sura Tav,” she answered, grasping his hand in her own. “And these are my traveling companions.”

“Adventurers, eh? I’ve met a few of those in my time. Though you’re among the more... exotic.” He eyed the group speculatively, gaze coming to rest at Lae’zel. “A strange company, to be sure, but it takes all kinds, doesn’t it?”

“Funny you should say so. Forgive us our haste, but we need your aid. On our way up the path we met a pair of your people who said we could find a healer in this grove. My... companion is also in need of information.” She jerked her head in Lae’zel’s direction. “We think a man named Zorru might be able to help us. Can we find him here? It’s urgent."

Zevlor’s brow clouded over, thinking. He turned away, and began walking the trail further into the grove. He motioned for them to follow. “Zorru should be helping to take inventory of our supplies. You’ll find him in our camp”—he pointed west, along a branch of trail that led down into a wide cave mouth—“in the grottoes among the cliffs. As for the healer, well. I only wish I could be of more help. There was a healer here: the archdruid, Halsin. But he went off with Aradin and his men on their expedition, and didn’t make it back with them. Halsin had an apprentice, Nettie. You could try to sneak in and speak with her. She’s retreated to the inner grove, with the rest.”

“Why would we need to sneak?”

Zevlor sighed. “They’ve named a new archdruid to act in Halsin’s stead, but she’s an unpleasant woman, as like to strike you down as say hello. Her name is Kagha. She blames us for the attacks on the grove, and not just the goblins—the roads in the area have been befouled with beasts for days, perhaps weeks. Not our doing, of course, but there’s no convincing her of that. The druids are preparing a ritual to seal the grove. We’re being pushed out. I don’t imagine they’ll let you stay long, either. If you leave the walls, go armed.”

“Where will you go?” Shadowheart put in.

“No idea,” Zevlor said. “We can’t go back the way we came. We were headed for the Gate, but... most of us aren’t fighters. We’re not likely to make it far.”

“Where are you coming from?”

“Elturel,” he replied gloomily. “We’ve no home left there any more. Not after... recent events.”

“I’m sorry,” Sura said, bowing her head.

They drew to a stop at a cross-path, and Zevlor nodded to her once more. “Again, thank you for your help. For what it’s worth—it was good to find a friendly face here.”

“Take care of yourself, Zevlor,” Sura said.

Immediately upon his departure, Lae’zel stepped forward. “We know our destination,” she said. “I will question this Zorru at once.”

“Haste may serve us less well than we think in this matter,” Gale interjected. “If the roads are as perilous as we’ve been led to believe, we’d do well to gather what information we can about the journey before undertaking it. It may be that this Nettie can help us after all—and if so, she’s undoubtedly the quicker option, given that we’re already here.”

“If she’ll see us,” Shadowheart said. “Zevlor seemed to believe that a lost cause.”

Sura shrugged. “Won’t know until we ask.”

“We waste time!” Lae’zel said. “There is but one cure, and the path to it is within our sight. Action, not discussion, is required.”

“All right. What if we split up?” Sura proposed. “Lae’zel, go and find Zorru. Learn what you can. You should...” she looked around. “... someone should go with you.”

“I volunteer,” Astarion said. His grin as he said it twisted his lips in a way that gave Sura pause.

“Any particular reason?”

He batted his eyes at Lae’zel. She scowled at him. “What can I say? I like her! She puts on a good show.”

Behind her eyes she felt a headache building. Sura rolled her neck left, then right, wincing. “Right. The three of us will see if we can find this healer, and whether she has anything to offer us. Meet back here as quickly as you can. We’ll need supplies for the journey, as well. Eyes sharp for anything useful.”

--------------------

After Lae’zel and Astarion had vanished into the mouth of the cave, Gale wandered up beside her, and said without preamble, “I didn’t know you spoke Infernal.”

“You don’t know my favorite color, either,” Sura responded, shoving her hands into her pockets as she walked. “Nor how I take my toast.”

“Fair point,” he said. “We’ve known each other for all of an afternoon, and these are hardly conducive circumstances to sharing oneself deeply. I simply appreciate learning where I encounter it. What gave you cause to study the language?”

“Didn’t study anything. Picked it up at home.”

“Ah,” he said. She offered him nothing further. He looked at a loss for what to do with the information.

At the base of a rocky outcropping that rose to overlook the water, a shout pierced the air. Sura’s head whipped around, seeking the source of the noise.

“Up there!” Shadowheart pointed up the path to the top of the hill.

“At my flanks!” Sura huffed. She sprinted out in front of them without awaiting a response. Gale and Shadowheart scrambled to keep up.

Atop the hill a tiefling woman was laid out on her back in the dirt. A bugbear stood straddled over top of her, brandishing an axe. The woman howled and tore at its legs, but fruitlessly: though her claws drew blood, the bugbear seemed not to notice, or care.

Sura didn’t even slow down. She dropped her shoulder and threw herself against the creature’s chest, sending them both sprawling. They rolled to a stop in a bush, Sura astride the bugbear in a tangle of limbs. The creature howled out its rage and surprise, flailing with its axe. It opened a bright stripe of blood along her forearm as she went for her knife. She hissed in pain. But the knife was in her hands, and she brought it up in a flash, and drove it down into the bugbear’s throat with all her weight behind it. It gave a horrible, strangled gurgle; she felt its spine give, with a sickening crunch. And then it moved no more.

“Are. You. Crazy.” Someone’s hands scrabbled at her forearm. She came back to herself to find Shadowheart gawking at her, eyes wide, face pale. Her hands tugged at the sliced sleeve of Sura’s tunic, ripping the material further back and away from the gash. “Aren’t you an archer? What were you even—though, no, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Of course you would tackle a bugbear. Why wouldn’t you? You’ve thrown yourself headfirst at everything else.”

The fussing was... unexpectedly touching, if brusquely delivered. Sura batted her away, and rose to her feet, pausing only to wipe the gore from her knife on the bugbear’s ratty fur.

“Leave me be, I’ll be fine.” She gingerly inspected her arm, then pinched the fabric closed around it. “It isn’t even that deep,” she lied.

“Are you all right?” Gale asked the tiefling. He knelt next to her, helping her to sit up. She held a palm to her forehead, and winced, but nodded.

“I think so... thanks. Glad you came along. Another minute and I’d have been a goner.” She looked from one to the other of them, and wrinkled her nose. “Hold on, I know why you’re here.”

“... you called out for aid?” Gale said.

She shoved herself away from him, and clambered to her feet. “Come off it, you reek of the Hells. You’re here to get your devil mistress’s prize back, aren’t you?”

Sura sheathed her knife. “Helm’s honor, we’re not looking for anything of the kind. We’ve had a long day, and it did include a jaunt to Avernus I’m truly not keen to repeat, but we were only passing by when we heard you.”

“Nobody takes a ‘jaunt’ to Avernus.”

“Unfortunately,” Shadowheart said, “we also wish that were the case.”

The woman considered them with narrowed eyes, then shook her head. She sighed. “I suppose if you really wanted it, it would’ve been easier to take it off my corpse.” She fished her hand under her collar. From some interior pocket of her shirt, she withdrew a disc, palm-sized and metal. “Damn thing’s brought me nothing but trouble. Hells, the bugbear could probably smell it on me. It has power, though. Take it, if you like.”

As one the three of them leaned forward to examine the object. Gale sucked in a breath. “That’s a soul coin,” he murmured. “However did you come by that?”

“Don’t ask. Do you want it, or not?”

Sura recoiled. She had never seen one of these before, but she knew them by reputation: currency dearly coveted by the worst of men and devilkind alike. An accursed reliquary for a single damned soul. Contacts had tried to tempt her with them, once or twice, when no other price would move her to do the invariably reprehensible work they desired of her. She had always refused them.

Gale made the decision for her. “That’s very generous of you,” he said. He took the coin delicately between his fingertips, and brought it up to his eyes. It flashed dully. He examined it a moment, then secreted it away into a pocket among his robes.

“Just... take care with it. And with yourselves,” the woman said.

As they turned their backs on the woman, Sura thought she felt a whisper of magic in her mind. The coin was a weight at the edge of her awareness. She had spent the vast majority of her life balking at any involvement with soul-magic, and for good reasons. Though... she had also never played host to a mind flayer parasite before. She wondered if this was an advantage they might need, considering what lay before them.

She wondered if that justified it.

--------------------

“That wound will sour if you don’t look to it.”

“It’s fine, really, I swear.”

“At least clean it!”

“And reopen it? Look, the bleeding’s stopped already.”

“Unbelievable,” Shadowheart muttered. She’d bothered Sura about it all the way back down the hill. “If your arm falls off I won’t be held responsible.”

“Look on the bright side. If we don’t find a cure, a one-armed illithid is easier to take down.”

“ Unbelievable .”

Their way led them high up along the edge of a ring of standing stones, which Sura presumed to be the grove proper. They followed the outer ridge of them down and to the east. Just within the gated entrance, the path had been narrow and overgrown at the edges, but as they passed into the hollows beneath by the cliffs, it opened out, became wider and flatter.

At a low bench to one side of the path, a halfling had established a perch for himself. Trinkets and artifacts of the grove’s daily existence surrounded him in piles on all sides; a magpie among his nest.

“Ho there!” he greeted as they approached. “The heroes of the hour! Come here a moment, I’ve something for you.” He dug into a great canvas satchel by his feet as they approached. After a moment’s rummaging, he triumphantly produced a corked bottle of violently green liquid, which he pressed into Gale’s hands.

Gale peered at it. “A tonic of some sort?”

“Restorative,” the halfling smiled. “One of the archdruid’s own concoctions. In case your good deeds have left you in want of a pick-me-up.”

“Much obliged,” Sura said. “Who can we thank for the courtesy?”

“Call me Arron,” he replied. “Pardon my saying so, but you seem lightly equipped, for adventurers. I’d be willing to trade for anything you’re in need of, if you’ve anything to offer.”

She held out her hand. “Sura Tav. And my companions, Gale of Waterdeep and Shadowheart.” Formalities completed, she swung her pack off her shoulder and plopped it into the dust at her feet. She crouched next to it and began digging out the day’s accumulated oddments and gold. The pile was smaller than she’d have liked, but she pushed it toward him all the same, grimacing. “I know it’s not much, but we’re in odd circumstances. We need hiking packs for three, bedrolls for five. None of it has to be nice, just functional. And a rough map of the area, if you can.”

He looked from the pile, to her, and back to the pile. He raised an eyebrow. “Odd circumstances indeed. You brave the roads with so little?”

“We aren’t gifted with an abundance of choice,” Gale said. “The area is truly so dangerous at the moment?”

“Far more than usual,” Arron said. “A goblin horde has set up to the west of here; you’ve already met a few of them. They’ve been sniffing around. We’ve killed all that have come near the walls, but it’s only a matter of time until the bulk of the horde figure out where we are. There’ve been other things, too, things we’ve never seen hereabouts... ogres. Drow. All manner of unpleasantness.”

“And you’re content turning the refugees from Elturel out into the midst of that?” Gale snipped.

A dissatisfied grumbling sounded from the man’s throat. “Content? Certainly not. But Silvanus demands that we defend the grove, at all costs. We pray that they go forth with his protection.”

From further down the path, there came a clamor of raised voices, the sounds of a scuffle. Sura stood and refastened her pack across her shoulders. “What’s that?”

Arron groaned. “Doubtless another squabble between the refugees and Kagha’s aids. There’s been nothing but grief since master Halsin departed. They’ve been asked to stay out of the inner grove.”

“Do you know of a way for us to get in there?” Sura asked. “We were told you have a healer, and we badly need her consultation.”

Arron shook his head. “You could try speaking to the guards at the entrance, but I suspect you’ll find no luck. Here.” He dug into his pack again, and pressed another bottle of green tonic into her hands. “I’ll gather the supplies you requested; return for them in an hour or so. And may the Oak Father keep you.”

--------------------

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #shadowheart #gale #lae'zel #karlach #wyll #halsin #sura tav #tadpolycule

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