#gale anon

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

Once Doe is out of earshot, Astarion turns to face the navigator. “Now, Gale, I understand your hesitations about all of this – believe me, I do, but all Doe wants is to help you in whatever way she can. I’m as skeptical about all of this as you are, but we’ve yet to exhaust our resources in finding you a way out of this.” Astarion nods his head towards the direction of Doe’s path, where she wanders from them on her own, dejected and clearly hurt by Gale's aversion to her plan. “Let her try to help you, Gale.” 

“Do you?” Gale huffs back, “If you understood you wouldn't be encouraging this. You know as well as I do a devil’s not going to fix me–” 

He cuts off on a choked sound as the marks flare with his growing agitation. Gale’s gaze follows after Doe as he leans heavily against the wheel and breathes unevenly.

“She doesn't deserve to get hurt because of... because of me,” he says softly. Gale’s gaze turns to Astarion, his expression drawn with melancholy. With fear. “And neither do you.”

Astarion bristles at the softness in Gale’s voice before waving the feeling away. “Then we won’t let her get hurt,” he says flippantly. “Raphael may not fix you, Gale, but he could get you valuable answers — all I’m saying is it’s worth a shot.” Astarion looks out at the water. “If she were going alone, I would’ve said no immediately and locked her up where even that damned bird couldn’t get to her. But she won’t be alone,” he says, turning his focus back to the man at the helm.

Gale scoffs. “As if we have a snowball’s chance in hell of making a difference if this goes sideways–”

Even as he argues, Gale's moving the wheel, turning their heading towards the next town so they can dock. And go to this gods damned ‘meeting.’

“You know as well as I do there's little chance of a cambion being able to help,” he grits, pointedly keeping his gaze away from the captain and toward the prow. “And even if he could - I’d hate to think of the blood price. Even for just information.”

“What do you want me to say, Gale?” Astarion says, unable to hide the edge in his voice any longer. “Do you want me to tell her no? Tell her that this is nonsense, and that your affliction is none of her concern? Do you want her to feel shut out and powerless?” He waves a hand as he turns away from Gale, trying to sort through his words. “I don’t know what all has happened in my absence, and forgive me if there’s been a lapse in my memory, but—” Astarion rubs his hands over his face in frustration— “you seemed poised to do anything, go anywhere, to find even a scrap of hope that someone, somewhere, could help you. And I was right there at your side, desperate to do whatever I could to help you find it.” He finally turns back to Gale, his throat suddenly dry, his voice quieting. He lets out a ragged sigh. “What happened, Gale?”

The sailing master's grip on the wheel tightens, his knuckles blanching. Their last conversation swims in his mind. The anger and hurt in Astarion's gaze. The weight of his blame and his judgement as he turned his back on Gale. The navigator’s own hurt comes rushing back to the surface. 

“Don't turn this back at me,” Gale growls. “You can't blame me for what happened to her in that storm and then turn around and put her in even more danger. And make me the bad guy for wanting to protect her–” 

Gale groans noisily, clutching at his chest as the mark flares brightly. His breath hisses through clenched teeth as he holds himself up with the wheel. 

What happened. Gods, if he knew– 

Gale lifts his gaze to Astarion, his expression simmering somewhere between rage and despair. 

“Priorities change.” His voice is hard and sharp. The shadow of his brow darkens his eyes, the only thing keeping them from being black as pitch is the green light of the mark. “Getting you back was the priority. Because my distraction is what led to your capture in the first place.”

Astarion is quiet for a long moment, three years of unspoken grief hanging between them in the silence. It was time, then; to air it out between them. They'd danced around the subject but they hadn't talked about it, not really. They'd been close before, and in many ways they were closer now, but there would always be this strife between them if he held his tongue. 

“I knew it would be a while before any of you would find me, you know. I would've been fine. Do you know how long Captain Szarr held me under his thumb?”

Only silence follows his question. Astarion's eyes are locked on the navigator’s.

“One hundred and three, Gale. The course was set– I could've held out until you'd gotten what you needed. Three years to a century, it–” He swallows hard, pushing the lie through his teeth. “It was nothing.”

Gale scowls in response, his visage darkening further as he holds Astarion's gaze. 

“Nothing?” He hisses back. “It wouldn't be fine! Don't lie to my face and expect me to buy it. You're smarter than that.”

Gale's words are more grating than Astarion had expected. 

“You don't know what I went through or what I can handle! I would have been fine, and you could've bought yourself whatever time or help you needed to rid yourself of the marid – and because of me, you didn't. Forgive me for being willing to find a way to make that up to you. It's because of me you missed your chance – I will not allow you to miss it again.” Astarion's breathing is heavy, his heartbeat quickening at their confrontation. “Captain's orders.” 

“It’s not going to make it up to me if both of you die in the process!” Gale’s hands fly up in an explosive gesture - the lines of his mark pulsing that sickly green. His heart thunders against his ribs - anger and panic both. “I’ve agreed to this hare-brained scheme, gods damn you - there’s no need to order me around!”

Gale surges forward, closing some of the distance between them. 

“Stop hiding behind your station and pretending you’re fine. We’re more than just captain and crew.” Those brown eyes flit between ruby, probing, searching, pleading. “Did you ever consider that what happened to you - because of me - my carelessness -”

He cuts off, gritting his teeth against the lump forming in his throat. When he speaks again his voice is ragged, softer. The deep green tendrils peeking out of his shirt and winding up the column of his throat almost seem to shift as they glow. Dappled like fragments of light breaking on the surface of the sea.

“If it weren’t for you, I may as well still be in her lair - I owe you whatever fragment of life remains to me.” Gale’s voice falls for a moment, his expression softening with his grief. “I spent the last three years trying to make up for my mistake. Trying to get you back.” 

Astarion’s heart snags on Gale’s words, wincing at the flash of green flaring across Gale’s golden-brown skin. 

“I–” 

He tries to form a thought, anything he can scrap together through his muddled mind. Something begs him to pull his attention from this moment, but he can’t afford to drive a wedge further between them. Astarion’s chest tightens as his eyes scan the planes of the navigator’s face – the anguish, the regret, all on the captain’s behalf. 

“Stop hiding behind your station.” 

He was, wasn’t he? It was what had protected him this last century – the only way he knew to be. 

“We’re more than just captain and crew.” 

Astarion’s ears twitch at the quickening of Gale’s heartbeat, overwhelmed by the heat of their shared breaths and the unmistakable scent of him: sea salt and cedar and sun-kissed sweat. Words feel entirely foreign to him as he regards Gale, unable to stop himself from reaching up to brush a few rogue strands from the navigator’s eyes. 

His jaw tightens at the contact, but the moment is cut short by the sudden aroma of sickly sweet cherries cut with sulfur that pulls his focus completely. 

“What is–” 

Astarion straightens, turning to look for the source of the offending odor, only to see a quick flash of flame, gone nearly as quickly as it had appeared – and Doe, nowhere to be found. 

Gale's breath catches in his throat. Most every sound drowned out save for the thunder of his own heart in his ears. 

But the panicked confusion in Astarion's expression pulls him hard to port. He follows the captain's gaze, catches the faint wisps of lingering magic. And sees - or rather doesn't see- Doe. The tell-tale pull of her magic, the feel of her presence - vanished.

Did she go overboard again? 

Fear lances through Gale like a dagger of ice and his feet are moving before he can think twice, nearly tripping in his haste to get to the stairs.

Astarion tries to search the crowd of faces on the deck for her, panicked as he hurries behind Gale down the steps. The mocking stench of sulfur lingers in the air, the fear seeping into both the captain and the navigator palpable. 

He almost tries to convince himself that she’s only gone below deck for a moment alone, but he knows something is wrong here. 

“Gale–” Astarion calls out, throat going dry. “It’s that devil, it has to be–!” 

Gale's ears are ringing - he can't hear anything past the thunder of his own heartbeat as he sprints across the deck. His eyes scan frantically for any sign of her on or off the ship. That dreadful crushing feeling is back, squeezing around his chest, his throat-

He can't feel her. He can't feel her-

The marks flare to life in a vibrant green, bright enough the tentacles snaking down his chest, around his ribcage and over his shoulder are visible beneath his layers of clothing. It's reflex when Gale throws an arm out in front of himself, reaching out with his magic for any flicker of Doe's presence.

The flare of power from Gale should send Astarion to put more distance between them, but instead he closes the gap between him and the navigator as his power seems to burn brighter. His stomach drops as he gets closer, throwing his arms out before him, Gale just barely beyond his reach. 

No no no no NO– 

“Gale, don’t you dare—!” 

Astarion's always been faster - stronger- Gale's nearly to the railing when he feels those arms band around his midsection. Cold, hard, gripping at chest and ribs- 

I'll take it from you, little wizard-

Flames consume his vision. The roar of it is louder even than his own heart, his own mind. One second, Gale's feet are leaving the deck to vault the railing, barely held back by Astarion's crushing grip. The next, they're both in freefall—

The heat of the fire threatens to sear Astarion’s skin, pulling him back into a painful memory. As he feels himself dissipating from the deck of the ship, his hands grasp onto Gale even tighter as they fall through time and space, the roar of the flames growing louder and louder with each passing second–  

And then they tumble onto a hard, unforgiving floor, arms still snug around Gale’s waist. They’re a tangled mess as they try to orient themselves, and Astarion’s shoulder and elbow begin to throb from breaking their fall.

Doe bristles at being held in the cambion's strong grip, tense and irritated- but then she hears a thump, the warm scent of salt and cedar and the coolness of astarion's skin cutting through the cloying air. She lets out a shaky breath, relaxes entirely, no longer resisting- he kept his word, she thinks, relief crashing over her. Her knees wobble slightly with the force of it. They are out of sight, obscured entirely by Raphael's wing, but they are here. She closes her eyes, feels tears slip past her lashes and sniffles quietly, her vision blurred when she opens them again. She resists the urge to wipe her eyes with her free hand- no weakness- and instead lets them fall freely,, turning her head toward where she sensed Astarion and Gale. She might've said something, but the devil's gaze shifts from her, his mouth twisting in amusement.

The cambion's lips curl up in a cloyingly sharp grin as he takes in the pair heaped together in an embrace on his office floor. "Oh my," he drawls, "I think perhaps we've interrupted something."

He turns back to Doe sharp grin softening slightly as something like confusion wars with the initial glee of seeing tears and distress. The cambion's free hand lifts, fingers twitching - before he reins himself in and instead moves the hand up in a grand gesture while turning his gaze behind him once more.

"Welcome, gentlemen!" The cambions voice resonates with a fiendish charisma. There's something akin to mockery in the undertone as he continues, "Please, make yourselves at home."

Doe's voice is soft- too soft for the boys to hear. All of her bravado has vanished, and there is something much more vulnerable and real in her voice now. 'Please at least be civil towards them. If we are going to be friends- Raphael-' She reaches out to the hand closed around her wrist with her free hand, clutches his wrist in turn to punctuate her point. 'I mean it. Please. I know you don't care. Or maybe you don't want to. Thank you for bringing them here. I-' she takes a breath. 'I'm grateful.'

The cambion’s eyes slide to her in acknowledgement, flitting briefly to Doe's bloodied hand against his wrist. But Raphael doesn’t comment, and his grip holds.

“Captain!” Faust squawks noisily from his perch on Doe’s shoulder, ruffling his feathers. “Wizard!”

Gale groans softly, struggling to catch his breath after having the wind knocked from his lungs. His ears still ring and his head spins as he tries to orient.

But he can feel Astarion’s iron clad grip around him. And he can feel her again - the brush of that wild, crackling magic against his own. Gale’s chest throbs with a furious ache in the wake of his desperate projection - he’d burned through more energy than was wise. As Gale blinks through the bleary haze at the polished wood surface beneath him, he can see the green reflection of his marks glowing angrily.

Once it's clear they're on solid ground, Astarion's arms loosen from Gale's torso and he flops, rather irreverently, onto his back, desperate to catch his breath. It’s all he can do to breathe through the ache in his shoulder, willing his lungs and heart to relax. As he draws in another ragged breath, his panic is stilled by the familiar, heady mixture of citrus and cinnamon and fresh flowers. Doe. Except—

Astarion pushes himself up off the ground, ignoring the flare of pain in his arm. His head snaps towards the smell of her blood only to see a winged man – a cambion – in infernal glory, wings deliberately obscuring something from view.

Obscuring her from view. And if he had drawn blood from her—

“Release her, devil,” he says, voice dripping with lethal calm. “Now.”

Astarion. 'It's okay,' Doe says calmly. 'It was an accident, I panicked because you weren't here and dug my nails in too deep trying to calm down. Raphael wouldn't hurt me.' Her eyes flit to the devil's in understanding. If you wanted to you'd have done it already. 'He chastised me for hurting myself, in fact.' She lets go of Raphael's wrist, the one held in his grip starting to ache though she says nothing. 'I'm fine. I promise.'

"Ahh," Raphael nearly purrs as he gaze locks on Astarion. He settles his expression into something "And this must be the husband."

The cambion shifts, pulling his wings in and turning slightly - just enough to let the other men see Doe. Still holding her wrist lightly, and showing how the sorceress has her own hand placed gently over Raphael's. Pointedly letting Astarion get a glimpse of the crescent shaped lines in her palm where she herself drew blood.

"I know you are a captain," he starts, looking down at the vampire. His tone is still friendly, but it carries a hard edge. "But I wouldn't recommend entering my home and giving orders."

Gale struggles to hands and knees, his breathing ragged. His gaze takes in the massive cambion towering before them, a new layer of discomfort settling in his stomach. But his chest squeezes as his gaze settles on Doe - alive, unharmed. A wave of relief rolls over him like a splash of cold water. Gale wants to grab Astarion, tell him to calm before he gets them all killed. But he can't manage much more than a hiss through his teeth.

Doe registers what Raphael just said and her eyes snap to him with a I can't believe you just fucking told him that look- she looks an awful lot like a startled rabbit, and tugs to test his grip on her wrist.

It doesn't budge, nor does the cambion return her look.

Astarion blanches for a moment, glancing only with his eyes around the vast room surrounding them. A devil's home indeed, he thinks.

"And I wouldn't recommend--" he stops. "I'm sorry - what did you call me?"

"Oh?" Now Raphael glances to Doe with a wicked gleam to his smile before looking at Astarion once more. "Perhaps it's not been discussed."

Astarion's eyes flicker between Doe and the devil.

'Shut up!' Doe hisses, her dark eyes blazing. 'This is none of your gods damned-'

Raphael glances to Doe once more, then back to Astarion. He holds his free hand up in a 'what can you do' gesture with a wry smile.

Astarion takes a step forward, eyes narrowing and wholly focused on Raphael. "Doe? Would you mind catching us up?"

"How rude of me," Raphael drawls by way of interruption. "Here I am hosting you and I've yet to introduce myself."

"You can call me Raphael." He gives a mock bow, though his hold on Doe's wrist never relents. As he straightens, his wings flare wide, one nearly wrapping around Doe. "A friend of your dearest songbird, and very much at your service."

'Hang on,' says Doe pointedly, looking at Astarion now. 'Ignore him for a minute. Please just. Let me explain.'

Unable to fight the boiling in his blood, Astarion keeps his eyes on Raphael, but lowers a hand to steady Gale in his attempt to stand. "Ah yes - finally putting a face to a name I've heard so much about," he croons bitterly. He regards the devil a moment longer, tilting his head to the side. "How utterly disappointing."

Gale grasps Astarion's forearm, raising himself to tremulous feet with his support. Of all the times to not have a staff.

'Astarion, play nice please?' Doe turns her beseeching eyes on him, begging him to remain calm. 'This is a… a…' she searches for the right word, gesturing with her free hand. 'A parley. Civil tongues in your heads, all of you.'

Her voice rings with command- not entirely intended. 'We need to work together, alright? It won't do to start bickering now.'

She glances at Gale, gives him an apologetic smile- and then realises that she just gave an order… in the devil's house. She sets her jaw- won't apologise for this. Not when she's trying to keep things together.

"Do we?" Raphael croons, turning that sharp gaze to the little rabbit beside him.

Holding her wrist and cradling her in the arc of his wing, she looks so small beside the cambion. And he looks possessive.

She turns to him then, challenging. 'Yes, we do, dear friend. If we are going to get anywhere, we need to co-operate. I don't need you to be the best of friends. Just-' she jumps slightly at the brush of his wing against her shoulder, '-hells. Work together. Please.'

As Astarion considers Doe's words, a voice howls in his head, begging him to relent in submission; but the other part of him, the one that had allowed him to survive and evade Captain Szarr for so long, takes over.

He squares his shoulders, rocking his weight back to one hip. His expression shifts only slightly, but he knows the face he now wears is not his own.

"I'm being perfectly civil," Astarion says, taking in the sight of Doe enclosed in Raphael's vast wing. "Though I suppose I could be dripping with decorum, but I get the sense that Raphael," he taunts, "rather likes a bit of rough conversation."

'And what about me?' Doe asks, trying once again to pull free of Raphael's grip. 'Astarion, I adore you. I really do. I need you to please listen. For me.'

"Astarion listen to her, for gods sake-"

Gale's words die on his tongue as his gaze falls to the shelving behind the cambion and his Doe. Rows and rows of ancient, hard to obtain, magical texts.

He finally looks at her then, the captain's ruby-red eyes now fixed on Doe. He wears an unamused, tight smile. "By all means then, Doe. Explain."

Gale's gaze is drawn back with a start by the gruff tone of Astarion's demand. His lips thin as he look back to Doe, waiting for her explanation. Gale's hand raises to rub absently at the throbbing ache in his chest.

Doe flinches at Astarion's tone. 'I… nothing's been agreed. I did ask,' she says, 'what our dear friend wanted. But I think he wanted to wait for you. So I asked him to bring you here. He didn't hurt me, he's been a perfect gentleman. He has knowledge-' she gestures at the wall of books, '-and assures me he wants to help. And I've said no deals, no pacts, no owing him of any kind. So that's where we are.'

"Well," Raphael cuts in, "Not for free of course. I'm not so altruistic."

'I'm well aware,' says Doe, glancing at him. 'Why do you think I asked so many questions?'

"So chaste of you, Doe," Astarion purrs. Even through his ire he can't be cruel to her -- especially not when the scent of her blood still hangs in the air before him. Though the 'husband' comment would surely be discussed later.

Mastering himself, he fixes a cool look on Raphael. "Well, now that we're all gathered right beneath your thumb, let's hear it: what do you want, Raphael? What are you offering and what is your price?"

She can't help the faint blush in her cheeks at the purr in his voice. 'Listen, I promised this meeting would go well, and I meant it, alright? I'm doing my best here.'

Doe's blush threatens to crack his facade but the captain steels himself, unwilling to show his weakness in front of Raphael. "You're right," he says with a slow nod. "And you always do so well for us, Doe - but it seems your explanation isn't quite finished yet, is it?" That remark still rings in his head, unsure whether it was just another taunt from Raphael, or a proclamation from Doe.

"Is now really the time?" Gale hisses at Astarion.

Her eyes widen slightly in panic- his eyes are laser focused on her, and she can feel the cambion's gaze shift too, waiting. Her eyes dart to Gale, grateful for his attempts to save her. 'What-' she all but squeaks, facing Astarion again, her heart hammering. 'What do you mean, my love?'

Astarion lifts and presses a hand against Gale's warm, still-glowing chest, index finger raised as if telling him to hold his tongue. He surveys Doe for a long moment, lifting his brows. "You don't remember?"

She knows exactly what he's talking about, and he knows she knows it. She turns to the devil and says, 'do you plan to let me go?' She gestures, very aware of the heat of his wing at her back. She wants to go to Astarion, to speak softly, to touch him, but she is held resolutely in place.

"Not just yet, little songbird," Raphael replies with a polite smile. "We wouldn't want any more injuries."

Her nostrils flare, but she simply turns back to Astarion. 'I… okay. When- I mean after the- the storm, when we went on shore leave, I-' She shifts her weight from foot to foot, nervous. 'I drank… a lot… of whiskey… and… Raphael approached me and. Well. I was so angry at you, Astarion. I was furious. And we talked and. I- it just-'

She closes her eyes, feeling her heart racing into her throat. 'I knew it was presumptive. I knew it. But I said it anyway. Because I-' she exhales shakily. I can't tell him. I can't tell him I'd marry him if he asked me. Not in the devil's grip like this.

'You know how I feel about you,' she says, a pleading note creeping into her voice. 'I was drunk, but- I did mean it. For what that's worth.'

Doe searches his face, presented only with the mask of the captain's façade. 'I'm so glad I have you,' she says gently, her eyes filling with tears. She swallows them back. 'I adore you. Both of you,' she says, her eyes sliding to Gale. 'So much. The lengths I would go to for you, I- it scares me sometimes. And I know it scares you too, and I'm sorry for that. But I said it because… calling you anything else just seemed wrong.'

Gale's lips purse, his brows furrowing with concern. His scowl at being silenced softens as he listens. But as much as it is a balm to hear Doe confirm her feelings, this is neither the time nor the place. And certainly not the company.

The cambion already looks positively gleeful at having instigated this conflict - who knows what he's hoping to get out of it. Out of them. Better to cut this as short as possible.

"I think this is a conversation best saved for the captain's quarters," Gale cuts in tersely. He raises a hand and grips Astarion's forearm in a pointed squeeze.

Squaring his shoulders, Gale shakes off the fatigue and strides forward. Mark pulsing and glowing, he stares down the devil - jaw set and gaze hard.

"Release Doe," he says sternly, "And let's have a civil conversation."

At this, Astarion relents. He maintains his steely exterior but softens his eyes as they pass over Doe, hoping that she understands.

Doe sighs. 'I am not going to injure myself, Raphael. Let me go please.' She tests his grip pointedly. 'My arm aches, so if you would be so kind?' She glances at Gale, takes a breath. 'And I'm a little warm.' Her free hand reaches to tap gently at the wing covering her.

Raphael barks a laugh.

"Who said anything about an injury to you?" He looks down at Doe with a Cheshire grin.

"You mortals are always so serious - and so chaotic." At first he seems amused, but the latter drips with disdain and an almost sneer as he lifts his gaze to look at the two men standing before them. One simmering with barely controlled bloodlust, and the other roiling with something positively lethal. Raphael's expression steels into an imperious look.

"No, I think with your guard dogs staring me down like the wolf after their little lamb," he drawls, looking down at Doe once more those his eyes keep sight of the others, "I think I'd prefer keeping you…close."

The cambion lifts his free hand and his large fingers curl over Doe's small shoulder with ease. His grip is gentle, but firm. He releases her wrist and moves that hand to her shoulder as well, shifting the sorceress to stand directly in front of him.

Gale's scowl darkens and the marks beneath his skin grow ever brighter as his magic pushes to the surface.

Doe clenches her jaw, visibly furious that she is being manipulated like a doll. Gale's magic thrashes outwards, its deep dark cold caressing the sparks of her own. She feels her hair lifting, static growing, the cold deepening too. She can almost feel Gale's magic in her own chest, the yawning void of it, the drowning, crushing pain. It takes her breath away in sharp, freezing bursts. Breathing through it and her own impotent anger, she tries to speak, her voice trembling with effort or fear or fury, perhaps a combination, though she tries for nonchalance again.

'And here I thought we were building trust,' she says coolly, reaching up a hand to cradle Faust as he runs from her shoulder to avoid the devil, then flutters off to perch up high, feeling unsafe. 'And they're not my guard dogs.'

Holding her wrist was one thing. But his hands on both her shoulders, keeping her rooted… that is too close. I have to maintain control. I can feel it slipping. 'So, dear friend,' she continues. 'Speak plainly. Your price.'

[ravennowithtea]

some bloodweave camp dynamics

[yaoiconnoisseur]

Gale “Irritable Bowel Syndrome” Dekarios

find me on BlueSky

[dekariosclan]

I have a simple thought

Tav making or trying to make Gale fail No Nut November

Woof-

Dearest Anon, I am giving you the most enthusiastic high-five right now. 🙌💯💯💯

Not only because this ask is magnificent, and not only because I squealed when I read it, but because you sent it to me at 10:28pm on November 1st.

Anon, the fact that you couldn’t even last 24 hours into No Nut November before sending in an ask about No Nut November is absolutely perfect. And do you know why?

Because being unable to last 24 hours into No Nut November is exactly what would happen to Gale.

Truthfully, the hardest part of this ask was coming up with why in the hells Gale would ever agree to participate in NNN in the first place. In fact, I think he would be positively incensed at the very idea: “…an entire MONTH of abstaining from pleasures of the flesh?! Simply to prove that it can be done?! Well! I could chop off an arm and cast spells one-handed to prove that it could be done, but it’s hardly something I’d willingly partake in!”

However! For the sake of this fantastic ask, we’ll say that he was convinced and agreed to try.

But the real crux of the matter, and your actual question, is what Tav would do about this situation. And the truth is, I really don’t think Tav would even have to try hard (or uh…at all) to make Gale fail at NNN.

Picture this series of events with me, anon:

Gale waking up with Tav in his arms (or he in theirs)

Drinking in the sight of his beloved as he does every morning

Noticing that Tav’s nightshirt is unlaced, their shoulder and chest uncovered and in full view

Their leg draped over his, thigh fully exposed

Gale already uncomfortably hard due to it being the morning

Tav innocently shifting and repositioning themselves to snuggle closer, their leg brushing over his bulge

Gale doing everything in his power not to audibly moan, thoughts flooding his mind of how they’d made love in the morning just a few days past. Remembering Tav pulling him from sleep by riding him as though their life depended on it. Thinking of Tav’s thighs clamping around his midsection, and then around his head, the taste of Tav on his tongue as he—

Gale not rolling out of bed so much as falling out of it.

Apologizing profusely, frantically getting dressed in his teaching robes, giving Tav a chaste kiss on the forehead, and all but running out the door

Tav joining Gale for lunch at the Academy as usual

The faculty lounge being so crowded that Tav has to sit on Gale’s lap

Beads of sweat forming on Gale’s forehead as Tav blithely chats with the other Professors

Gale trying not to think about Tav’s perfectly shaped ass

Gale trying not to think about how good it feels pressed against him

Gale trying not to think, period

Fumbling or dropping his fork every time Tav shifts slightly

Apologizing for his clumsiness to the point of babbling, even as Tav reassures him it’s fine. Tav finally just putting their finger over Gale’s lips to get him to stop

It taking every ounce of willpower for Gale to not take Tav’s finger in his mouth

Lunch ending with Gale looking as flushed and sweaty as if he’d just ran a marathon rather than sat for 45 minutes

Tav asking him if he’s okay and Gale reassuring them that he’s fine

Grateful that they cannot see his orb scar through his thick teaching robes, certain it is glowing blindingly bright purple

Kissing Tav goodbye, this time on the lips. Instantly realizing his mistake as the thought occurs to him that he could just dimension door them both into his private office, and—

Hastily breaking the kiss and telling Tav he hopes they have a good afternoon, he’ll see them this evening, he loves them

Spending the rest of the afternoon steeling his resolve

Barely able to pay attention to his class

Muttering to himself that it’s just 30 days! Surely that is surmountable! His bond with Tav is incomparable, they are tethered at the soul, their love goes beyond just the physical, even if that aspect is magnificent and life-giving and—

Ending class early when he realizes he’s mistakenly conjured Tav’s likeness when he was supposed to be channeling the Weave

Arriving home, escaping to the kitchen to start dinner, praying that Tav is busy elsewhere in the tower

Relieved to find a note that they will be home a bit later

Focusing on dinner preparation to the point that he doesn’t realize how much time has passed

Looking up to see Tav has arrived home. The air suddenly thick with their sweet musk

Gale, realizing from their glistening muscles, flushed cheeks and battle gear that they have been off doing their weekly practice at the local armory

Gale, completely mesmerized as a single bead of sweat rolls down their neck and over their heaving chest

OhGodsNo.jpg

Tav, greeting Gale with a quick kiss, suddenly finding themselves caught in his embrace

A purple hue rapidly covering Gale’s chest

His eyes dark, face flushed

His mouth hovering over Tav’s, his voice sounding parched. “Forgive me, my love. I seem to have made a mistake.”

Performing a quick spell with a single hand motion, changing the date on every calendar in the Tower. “I thought it was November 1st when we awoke this morning. My most humble apologies. It appears to actually be December 1st.”

Tav, their lips brushing Gale’s, laughing. “Oh? My goodness, November seemed to absolutely fly by.”

Gale, pulling Tav even closer, his lips brushing theirs as he whispers, “With any luck, December will feel like it lasts a lifetime,” before claiming their mouth with his own.

[sansaorgana]

Please can you write a Buck x reader where he's really protective of her while she's pregnant? I think he'd be SO attentive and constantly making sure she's okay

hello! 🤰🏻🤰🏾 thank you for your request 💕 I think he'd be the best daddy and very involved in the pregnancy unlike most men back then 😊

I had to currently close the requests because I got so many so I'm working on them atm 🙏🏻

You reached above your head to grab a box on the top shelf of the wardrobe. It was no easy task, especially now when you were six months pregnant and you felt much heavier and slower. However, you didn’t want to ask Buck for help because he was busy reading a book downstairs. You didn’t want to bother him with something so silly.

You managed to grab the edge of the box as your tongue stuck out a little out of effort. You pulled the box closer and lost the grasp of it. You could only watch it hit the ground as you quickly took a step aside to avoid being hit with it. A loud thumping sound echoed all over the bedroom as you sighed and watched all the photographs from the box scattered all over the floor.

The door opened rapidly, which startled you.

“Gee, Buck, I had no idea you could be that fast,” you chuckled, trying to crouch down to collect the photographs.

Your husband was a few shades paler as his eyes were widened. He approached you and grabbed you by your shoulders, making you straighten your back. You furrowed your brow at him.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Something fell down. I was scared it was you,” he admitted as his eyes scanned you up and down as if he didn’t believe your assuring words.

“I’m fine, Buck. It was the box. I tried to reach for it,” you told him.

“You should have called for me,” his tone was serious, nearly scolding. You sighed and rolled your eyes.

“I didn’t want to bother you. But now, when you’re here… You can help me to pick them up,” you proposed and Buck nodded without a word. Always eager to help and making sure you don’t overwork yourself even if it was a task as easy as this one.

He handed you the empty box and sat you down on the edge of your bed before crouching down and picking up the photographs. He was handing you them one after another and you could watch with a gentle smile all the beautiful memories that were there.

“What did you even need that box for?” He asked.

“I felt a little sentimental,” you told him as your lips curled into a smile at the sight of your wedding picture.

“Next time you feel a little sentimental, you call for me to help you,” Buck muttered to himself. He wasn’t really angry but you could hear his nervousness, still scared for you even though nothing had happened.

“You know, I got used to doing everything on my own,” you carelessly commented as you placed the picture inside the box and reached your hand out for another one. But there was none, so you lowered your eyes to meet your husband’s gaze. He was staring at you with his beautiful blue eyes but they were suddenly filled with pain and guilt.

“I’m sorry I left you for such a long time. I never meant to,” he whispered.

“Oh, Gale, baby, I didn’t mean it this way…” You bit on your lower lip and held his hand to pull him closer. He sat up on the bed next to you, clumsily – which was unusual for him. He put his arm around you and hid his face in the crook of your neck. “I don’t blame you for that, love. I’m glad you came back to me, doesn’t matter how long it took,” you assured him as you caressed the back of his head. “What I’m saying is, I learnt how to be independent. And sometimes…” You hesitated, not sure if you should finish the sentence. “And sometimes I forget you’re back home,” you finally added and took a deep breath in. “I’m upstairs, doing something and a noise from the living room startles me… Only then I remember that my husband is back with me,” you turned your head to place a kiss upon his forehead.

Buck looked up and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the tears welled in his eyes. You cupped his face to caress his scars gently and you gazed back at him, hoping he could see all the love in your own eyes, because words seemed to only make it worse.

He was home for nearly a year now but it took time to accept his presence once again. Just like it had been difficult to accept his absence after his departure.

“Here, can you feel it?” You quickly grabbed his hand and put it on your swollen bump as the baby inside you moved. You smiled at your husband through your tears and saw his face lighten up again. “I can’t wait for the nurse to hand you Baby Cleven. You’re going to be an amazing daddy,” you told him.

“Only time can tell,” Buck sighed.

“No, I just know it, baby,” you assured him. “Just like you’re an amazing husband,” you added. “Now, hand me the rest of the pictures and let’s just put that box away, hm?” You encouraged him and he nodded before leaning in to peck your lips and then moving back to the carpet to give you the rest of the scattered photographs.

Once you were done with it, you went downstairs with Buck and walked into the kitchen since it was time to prepare the supper.

“I’ll do it,” Gale insisted.

“I’m pregnant, not sick,” you chuckled. “I can handle making my husband a sandwich. I like taking care of you,” you shook your head and approached the counter to take the bread out but Buck followed you.

“Let me help at least,” he put his hands on his hips, completely lost at what to do.

“It is not complicated, Major Cleven. You just slice bread and put whatever you want on top,” you laughed. “Well, you can make tea if you really want to do something,” you nodded at him and he smiled.

As eager to help as a child wanting to assist their mother. You found it adorable in a way, or perhaps those were your hormones speaking.

“You know,” Buck started suddenly, “I’m reading that book about babies and I am really worried about some things.”

“You what?” You stopped slicing the bread for a moment as you froze and looked at him in disbelief. A slight blush on his cheeks was making your heart swell.

“I’m reading a book about babies. The one for fathers that was recommended by the doctor,” he explained.

“It was only a recommendation, baby. You’re probably the only man who actually bought it,” you laughed lovingly at him. All your friends who had been lucky to get pregnant before you, had been telling you many stories about their husbands not wanting to participate in anything baby-related. And here he was, your dear husband, Major Gale Cleven… Who had actually bought a book about babies recommended by a doctor. “You’re one in a million, baby. Just reminding me every day why I love you,” you quickly caressed his arm just in case you had embarrassed him accidentally with your reaction. “What were you worrying about?”

“There are just so many things that can go wrong. And it’s scaring me,” Buck admitted quietly, avoiding your gaze. “Things beyond my control. I can try my best and still not be able to prevent them from happening.”

“That’s what life is like, my dear. I thought you’d know it by now,” you hugged him and caressed his back. “But we’re together in this. We can do it. And the things that are beyond our control… Well, they’re beyond our control. We shouldn’t worry about them now. Why focus on the bad things?” You tried to cheer him up.

“What if I lose you?” He asked, his voice breaking.

“You won’t, I promise,” you took a step back to look into his eyes.

“You can’t promise me that,” Buck bit on his lower lip as his jaw clenched; all in effort to stop himself from crying again.

“You couldn’t promise me either. When you were going to Europe, you promised you would be back. But how could you know that? I remembered what one of my friends had told me. Them pilots die like flies, she said. But I refused to listen to her because you…” You put your hand on his chest. “You gave me a promise. And I know my man doesn’t break his word,” you looked up with a gentle smile.

“And…” Buck cleared his throat. “And the little one?” He asked, nearly naively. You chuckled softly and placed his hand on your bump again. The baby moved as if they knew they had been addressed.

“The little one promises to be alright, too, daddy,” you assured your husband. “Now, let’s make these sandwiches, mummy’s hungry,” you bopped him on the nose.

Buck was watching you sitting on the edge of the bed and putting a lotion on your legs, belly and arms. Pregnant or not, he loved to admire you as you were performing your little rituals. When you were done, you laid back on the pillows and sighed.

“Can you imagine that in three months we’ll have Baby Cleven with us?” You asked with a soft smile.

“No,” he admitted in a whisper. “Truth to be told, I can barely believe you’re my wife.”

“Don’t be daft,” you caressed his hair. “Come here, tell us a goodnight story?” You proposed and Buck nodded as he lowered himself to place a kiss on your bump and lay his head next to it. He put his arms around your waist and closed his eyes, savouring the sweet and intimate moment.

“Which story, love?” He asked, gently caressing your bump.

“The one about a princess waiting for her knight to come back from the war?” You asked. It was a story Buck had made up some time ago for your little baby, which was supposed to reflect the story of your child’s parents. But he was still working on the details, changing the plot here and there each time he was telling this story. You liked it not only because it was about the two of you but also because it was giving you a feeling of creating something together for the baby already. Even though Baby Cleven still needed three more months to grow under your heart, you already felt like a real family. There was not a day passing by when you were not grateful for your husband being so involved in the whole process.

“I thought you’d be sick of that story by now,” Buck chuckled.

“No, I will never be sick of it,” you assured him as your fingers brushed through his golden hair. “And I hope Baby Cleven will want to listen to it every day, too.”

“I highly doubt that,” Buck muttered with his face pressed to your bump, kissing it one more time.

“We’ll make up another story then. And then another. And another. I’m sure we’ll come up with dozens of amazing ones. We can make it a family tradition. What do you think?” You asked and he looked up at you. You couldn’t help but smile at how beautiful he was at that moment, with his eyes filled with love and admiration, letting himself be vulnerable and soft in your arms.

“I think it’s a beautiful idea,” he nodded.

“Wait, let me grab a notebook,” you reached out to the bedside table to get a notepad and a pen. “Let’s start writing them down.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[naughtybg3confessions]

I know in my heart that the lotus position is one of Gale’s definite favorites. He adores the closeness, the weight of Tav in his lap. How he gets to wrap his arms around them tightly, their chests flush together, creating another kind of delicious friction while they meet the languid roll of his hips. He loves to keep his mouth open against theirs, swallowing every subtle intake of breath and heated moan that falls from their lips. Gale keeps his eyes on their face the entire time, not wanting to miss how their features contort in bliss as he is slowly building pressure inside them. He could spend hours like this, just kissing and enjoying each other’s bodies. Until the sense of urgency inevitably takes over and he can’t help but grab their hips, fucking up into them roughly as they lean back and take whatever he wants to give.

[taygra5shaon]

Jacq: THEY LEFT GALE UNPROTECTED?!

Astarion: Calm down Darling. Gale is perfectly capable of taking care of himse-

Gale:*Crusified half naked with a goblin stabbing his hip* HELP MEEEEEE!!!!

[avocado-writing]

7 anon here! Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to gn s/o trying to comfort them awkwardly? Like asking if they should stay with them & leave to give space? If they should talk, just listen, or keep quiet?

Astarion

Oh, you are just as awkward as he is, and he loves it.

It’s so endearing, the way you try to pick the right words and keep failing. It’s a bit entertaining to see you squirm.

But you’re trying and it’s more than anyone has ever done for him before, honestly.

He wraps you in his arms and holds you close. Whispers in your ear a thank-you for caring. Feels his soul soften when you tell him he’s worth the world to you.

Gale

He’s exceptionally erudite most of the time, and so are you - that is why he’s so taken aback when you struggle for words.

You search the rich well of your eloquence for something to say and come up short. Instead you just pat him on the shoulder… and he bursts out laughing.

He apologises; he didn’t mean to be unkind, he just wasn’t expecting that reaction. In fact it’s enough to lift the mood and get him smiling again.

Wyll

Sees that you’re struggling with the best way to offer comfort, and instead just reaches out to take your hand.

He presses his lips to your knuckles so that you can feel when he talks.

“Knowing that you are here is enough to help, my heart.”

He feels you relax, letting go of the worry while stepping into his arms.

Halsin

You try to make awkward, comforting smalltalk with him, but a heavy hand on your knee silences you.

“It is enough that you are with me. Let us just… be together.”

So you are, sitting quietly side by side, enjoying the view of the flowers he’s sought out.

The simple act of you being next to him is a salve to his hurt.

Haarlep

The incubus is prone to flights of fancy. Melodrama comes with the territory. You’re lucky that, when he’s upset, it isn’t for long.

It’s so obvious how awkward you are. He laughs in your face at it. When you harrumph he turns playful again, wrapping you in his arms and tail and pressing his face into you.

“Oh, darling, I was only playing. Come now, let’s stop being sad and move onto better things…”

Dammon

Really tries to not show how upset he is in front of you, ever.

Prides himself on being strong! It wouldn’t do for you to see him crack and falter.

He can see what anguish you’re in trying to comfort him and never quite finding the right words. It makes him feel better, somehow? Like you should both be more open to showing these parts of yourselves.

The sincerity behind your awkward affection is enough to make him joyful again.

Rolan

Is probably a little gremlin about it, let’s be honest.

“I thought the hero of Baldur’s Gate was meant to be good at these sorts of things…”

”Well I thought the wizard of this tower would be adroit at social situations, but clearly I was a fool…!”

And then you’re back to bickering. It’s nice. It’s familiar. And you’re both happy.

Zevlor

It pains him to see you so uncomfortable.

He takes you in his arms, holds you close. Face pressed into the crook of your shoulder.

“My love, you should be the one leaning on me. I’m sorry to make you fret.”

You reassure him he has no reason to apologise to you, and just hold him until things feel better - which, eventually, they do. Your hug is a cure.

[shepscapades]

trick or treat! iyw might I request to gaze upon one of the lovely ocs of yours??

WAUU TREAT!!!! Some old sticker concepts for my souls in the sand guys =w= ty for asking about my ocs, I love them so so dearly :3

[junowritings]

Could I request pre-romanced but interested Astarion (spawn), Gale, Halsin, and Rolan each reacting to Tav, in a moment of desperation, transforming into a silver dragon to save him from death. The kicker? Tav did not remember that they were a true dragon due to the tadpole wrecking their memory and is just as caught off guard by this revelation as he is.

Oh now this was too much fun to write! I ended up trying to generate a different scenario for each of them bc it was fun to imagine the context for each of them! :D

Astarion

♡ What a foolish thing; to let your guard down. Astarion knows better than most that nothing good would come of doing something so utterly stupid, no matter how safe. And yet he makes that very same pitfall after a battle with gnolls goes awry. Most of the beasts had been knocked off the nearby cliff-face, an underhanded tactic but he knew well to make use of the terrain even at the cost of any worthwhile loot. The rest had been picked off easily, and when Astarion buries his dagger into the gnoll prone beneath him the tension in the air finally seems to ease - the battle is over, for now.

♡ He’s still picking bits of viscera from his clothes, bemoaning the effort it’s going to take to pluck the gore from the decals when he spots you across the battlefield. You’re helping Karlach pry her axe free from getting a bit too gung-ho on an enemy’s skull, and he watches your face scrunch up from the effort with a snort. You catch his gaze when you look up, returning his fanged grin with an unamused huff of your own. It’s a sweet sight, even marred by blood and dirt, and Astarion makes a move to rise to his feet intending to amble over and watch you either succeed or count the axe as a loss. That was the plan-

♡ Until the carcass beneath him lurches, a screaming mass that in its death rattle bowls them both straight over the edge. And in the blink of an eye he’s in freefall, barely catching the look of horror on your face before he slips from sight.

♡ It’s nowhere near as graceful as the tales make believe. The wind bites at Astarion’s face and whips around him hard enough that his ears ring as hands try to grapple for purchase against the wall of the cliff. Nothing catches, only grabbing fistfuls of dirt and catching on rocks that crumble away beneath his fingers. No, no, no this was not how he was going to die; but there’s nothing to hold, nothing to see but the vast expanse of sky above his head as though taunting his very fate-

♡ And something else. Something large and scaled and burning silver as wings fan out enough to block out the sun as it appears practically out of thin air.

♡ A dragon. As if things couldn’t get worse?! Astarion’s cursing just about every force in the universe that he can think of as the beast plummets to close the distance. It’s there in seconds, a rippling wave of silver that swelters the very air as a taloned hand shoots out and catches him around the midsection. He expects to be eaten, maybe plucked to pieces right there and then; instead the dragon’s body rolls mid flight, curling close around the vampire spawn like a protective shield as the ground rushes to meet them. 

♡ The landing isn’t gentle, having been too close to the ground to take flight. Both hit the earth but it isn’t the fatal fall it could have been. At one point he slips from the dragon’s talons, and by the time he’s wormed his way free he’s marred by dirt and spitting leaves alongside the plethora of curses in his vocabulary. But he’s alive.

♡ He certainly wasn’t complaining about that, but his head is still spinning with the ‘why’ of it all - where had that beast come from? Why  hadn’t it killed him when it had the chance? He’s already looking for his dagger that had been lost in the fall as he scrambles to his feet, whipping around to face the dragon as he hears it stir. But he doesn’t find it. No, instead he finds-

♡ You. The last of the draconic visage crumbles like burned parchment, and you slump to your knees in the gouge your previous form had carved into the earth. Your hands tremble as you bring them up to your face, inspecting them like you’re checking that they’re truly there before your head shoots up to look at the vampire spawn you’d just saved. There’s a wild look in your eyes, confusion evident as you mirror his own slack jawed expression and trip over yourself to get back onto your feet with a scream of “What was that?!”

♡ At first he doesn’t believe your pleas of ignorance, and doesn’t get why you’re trying to protest so hard that you didn’t know. It’s not as though he hasn’t kept secrets from the group before - it’s not as though he willingly shared he was a spawn holding hands around the campfire like a jolly old fellow, did he? He’s not going to fault you for keeping your secrets so long as it’s not getting him killed. 

♡ But then he catches you pacing later that night back at camp, muttering to yourself of how you could forget and mulling over what else you’d lost with the tadpole. That kind of panic isn’t easy to fake, and you aren’t even aware of the audience to fake it. Has that tadpole altered your memories that thoroughly? A disturbing thought.

♡ Of course he’ll be the first person to encourage you to use this ‘new’ form of yours to your advantage - why wouldn’t you? It’s not everyday that someone finds out that they can turn into a hulking magical creature at the drop of a hat, so why not make the most of it? Not to mention it will be excellent for both combat and persuading anyone who makes the mistake of thinking that you’re easy prey.

♡ Of course that brings the whole other question of - why the hells did you jump after him?! Did you think your little friend in the artifact would somehow save the two of you again?! You hadn't even hesitated to reach for him; to protect him…Astarion doesn’t know whether to throttle you over your own self sacrificing logic, or kiss your damned face until any thought of risking your life like that again goes out of the window.

♡ Perhaps he’ll do both - he hasn’t decided yet.

♡ Plus, he’ll never admit it, but the camp feels a little safer knowing that it’s got a fire breathing, flying scaled powerhouse for a leader - might move his tent just a little closer to your own after that realization. 

Gale

♡ Wizards and close combat rarely mix well together. It has been somewhat of a running gag between the pair of you since the first tussle back at the grove when he nearly went sailing off the rocks he’d been casting from when a sword got far too close to his flank for his liking. You’d been there to save him, of course, biting back a teasing comment on his ‘graceful trip’ and trying not to chuckle as you’d helped the man back to his feet when it was all over. Gale naturally had been just as quick to remind you that even with his lack of tact for fisticuffs he was just as capable at keeping you as safe as you kept him. As he’d proved with a well timed magic missile not even one fight later,.

♡ The understanding was mutual - he’d protect you with all of the magic at his disposal, and you would do what you can to shield him on the battlefront. As you got closer, and the wizard got the opportunity to know you better, that protection evolved to something deeper. Something more than just having one another’s back out of necessity; the thought of any harm coming to you in the first place had been a sour notion, but now it was downright unthinkable. You took every blow meant for him without hesitation; pushed back any blade or arrow meant for him even if it led to adding a few more scars to your repertoire. And gods if you didn’t look absolutely stunning doing it.

♡ This time is no different. The sounds of battle ring in his ears, the clashing of weapons striking drowned out only by the roars of a group thrust into combat. Considering just how many unique faces make up their party (with a githyanki warrior, a renowned hero of the coast, and an excitable yet combustible tiefling - to name a few) Gale is surprised that bandits would even try their luck against this gaggle of adventurers. But where your group has skill, theirs has numbers, and this fight has been going on long enough that everyone is exhausted, frayed and running out of steam.

♡ He watches you on the other side of the battlefield, weapon clutched tightly in clenched fists and eyes burning with the fire of combat as you call out to your companions. You’re trying to pinpoint everyone's locations, caught up in the fighting as your weapon comes down on a bandit’s head. Multiple voices call out to you and Gale opens his mouth to join them, the air around crackling as he rears back to cast another spell. But the words barely get past his lips before he feels a solid blow to the back of the head and for just a second his world goes white. There’s a kick to his back and the world topples before he hands on him. 

♡There is a fist wrapped up in his hair and a blade so close to his gut to breathe is a risk. One of the bandits - how had they gotten so close without him noticing? Had he gotten complacent thinking he was safe from his vantage point? A knee digs into him and the wheeze he lets out is pained as he attempts to throw the bandit off. But Gale’s not a fighter, and it’s getting harder to think straight when another hard yank knocks his head against the ground with a harsh crack. Magic pulses at his fingertips as they rake up dirt, the words forming in his mouth hoping to get them out before that blade decides to get familiar with his insides. If only he could just-

♡ What comes next happens suddenly. A rush of air, an unrelenting wave of heat and the weight suffocating him is gone. The bandit’s body is hoisted up in a cushing jaw, only able to get out little more than a scream before they’re essentially ragdolled across the field. The threat of an imminent gutting is gone, but Gale finds himself unable to breathe once again as he realizes what exactly has descended upon him.

♡ Multiple times his size with several layers of thick silver hide, and adorned with thick leathery wings, a dragon prowls overhead. Slitted eyes scan across the battlefield, taking in the carnage and what remains of the stragglers that Gale’s companions haven’t taken down with a surprisingly clarity. It’s…looking for something? No, someone - your companions. He watches the creatures head tilt, letting out something akin to a billowing rumble before setting its sights back on the wizard still very much pinned beneath it. 

♡ The dragon’s head leans down, a huff of air feeling sweltering against his face as he comes face to snout with the creature that could easily turn him into wizard-chow with but a bite of that wall of teeth in its maw. But it doesn’t; instead it lets out another huff and there’s a ripple that seems to shake every single scale on its body before it’s shifting. It shrinks, morphs, changes into someone all too familiar as you drop down to your knees. Poor Gale almost gets a limb to the gut again as you slump down beside him, shaking off some sort of daze as you come back to your senses. It’s you - that dragon was you?

♡Gale doesn’t realize he’s shouting till he hears your own voice shouting along with him just as confused and panicked. Surely the pair of you must look like fools, unable to get out any kind of coherent word as your brains catch up to. You end up having to cover his mouth with your hand so that there’s enough quiet to actually process what has just happened, but Gale doesn’t miss how utterly lost you look about the whole ordeal - clearly this is as much news to you as it is to him.

♡ Once things have calmed down (and he’s checked to make sure he didn’t infact get punctured by a stray talon on the way down) Gale is absolutely fascinated. Nothing short of a kid in a candy store, this man is enthralled by the implications of your transformation. He knows you’re shaken of course, and he gives you time to do whatever you need to to ground yourself before he thinks to act upon any of his burning questions. He hopes to shed some light on things by working through these questions with you, hoping that they’ll spark some recollection you couldn’t remember before. 

♡ He’s tactful, tries to be subtle but you can tell that he’s clearly excited to learn about the origins of this ability. Is it related to your bloodline? Or were you perhaps cursed? Could this be some kind of advanced wildshape unbefore discovered? It doesn’t hurt you, does it? The last question gives the wizard pause, and he can’t quite relax till you assure him that the process doesn’t cause you pain.

♡ Depending on if your memories came back after your first transformation, you’ll only be able to give him so many answers. Feel free to practice your abilities around him though. At first he keeps a safe, out of the line of fire-distance, but it doesn’t take long before he inches closer until he’s close enough to run a hand along your flank if you allow him. There is an almost reverent touch alongside his curiosity as he marvels at the sight of you - breathtaking, is the only word he can find to describe it as you extend a wing for him to examine. 

Halsin

♡ Halsin has lived long enough to see many beings, experience many things. But he’s not fool enough to simply assume that he’s seen all that this world has to offer. There are still plenty of things to discover, many days and events he has yet to live amongst these new companions that have stumbled their way into the druid’s life.

♡Every moment with you has been a shining example of that fact - from the tadpole in your skull that you somehow manage to resist with each passing day, to the very way you approach the world around you. You somehow always managed to leave Halsin guessing, trying to wrap his head around the impossibility of you - regardless of you background, regardless of your creed or the life you lived before the tadpole, you remained a walking anomaly. Once which kept him on his toes, wondering what facet of you that you would reveal to him next.

♡ Of course he had done the same for you - you’d just about knocked your whole team over when he’d transformed after you’d first rescued the druid; recalled to you events and moments in his life that had anyone else told you, you would have called bullshit. It was a mutual exchange - you were open to him, and so he would do the same for you. He trusted you after all, and hoped you felt the same for him.

♡ That trust extended to the battlefield as well. Halsin’s desire to protect extended to the entirety of your party, naturally, but you were under a watchful eye with this man. Your penchant for the disregard of your own safety left much to be desired in the ways of keeping you safe; the needs of others or obtaining what you want often put above your own safety in the throes of a fight. Your habits of getting into trouble were something he grows far used to by now, so Halsin willingly takes the mantle of your protector, if only to save you from all of the scratches and scars that you’ll no doubt earn yourself down the road with your current mindset.

♡ Such as now. Within a wildshape, Halsin acts as a defensive shield for the other companions in a fight against a stray goblin raiding party. The leftover dregs of the ones from back at the temple that were set on hunting the party down long after the fall of the cultist once housed there. Teeth and claws rip and tear into goblin flesh and bone with ease, the bear acting as an utter powerhouse shrugging off each and every hit as though he was being poked with sticks and not swords. Things look to be over swiftly, as alongside the attacks of yourself and your other companions the goblin’s ranks are quickly dwindling - having either been felled by your defense or fled once they realize it was not a fight so easily won. With luck, you’ll all be back at camp before sundown.

♡ It is you who warns him that that’s not the case. He hears your voice, hears your scream of his name and Halsin cranes his head in an attempt to seek you out worried that something had happened to you when he wasn’t looking.

♡ But then a blinding light bursts against his side and he roars, loud and anguished at the sudden pain that washes over - some kind of explosive, brutal and all too effective against the druid. It’s enough for him to drop, barely still clinging to his wildshaped form as he braces against the earth in a bid to get back to his feet. What’s left of the goblins swarm, threatening to overwhelm him in his vulnerability and Halsin prepares himself for the approaching onslaught that closes in on him.

♡ Then something slams overhead, the squeals and cries of the goblins drowned out by a blinding roar that rings in the air like a toll as something impossibly large lands above Halsin and the goblins barricading them from their assault behind the wall of its body. A thick sweltering heat takes over, emanating from scales that glint like fine silver as the large body of a dragon settles overhead, and the area around them becomes alive with noise and chaos in its wake. 

♡ The very ground trembles under thick clawed footfalls - the trees groaning barely avoiding the wrath of this dragon as it rises to its full height and lunges for the attackers. The goblins never stand a chance - whichever ones weren’t smart enough to scarper before are taken out with little more than a snap of jaws and the swipe of a tail. Large claws break into the earth below, digging deep as though to ensure the dragon doesn’t move an inch from the druid’s side even as the last of the goblins are reduced to shreds. 

♡ When it is all over the creature visibly loses its hostility as it rounds once again upon Halsin. A firm nudge to his side, as gentle as a beast of this size can be and Halsin manages to push himself back to his feet, shedding the form of his barely clinging wildshape as exhaustion settles heavily upon his shoulders. By this point he knows that it means no harm, head pressed to his side until he’s firm in his stance before slinking away and circling around the druid as though appraising, checking for more damage. When none is found there’s a twitch, a shift in its tail that works its way up to its skull as though its very being is unraveling before Halsin’s eyes - and that’s exactly what happens.

♡ Scales and talons shift and rend, giving way to familiar flesh and a face the druid has all but committed to memory. This time he is the one to offer support, large hands coming up to brace upon your shoulders as you stumble over yourself looking about with a bewildered expression. “That was…what did I…?” Your words are met with a gentle assurance that that can be tackled in due time - it’s better to tackle those questions with a clearer head after nursing your injuries. And he’ll be right there will you, even guiding you back to camp till you practically insist that you’ll be fine on your own.

♡ Halsin has heard of many species and many abilities, but nothing that’s quite like a dragon shifter. At least, not one like you seem to be. You seem just as distraught by that knowledge, alongside the fact that this appears. Yet another thing that the tadpole has taken from you, if your belief to have had this ability before is true. It isn’t much different than using wildshape, as you learn once you talk through the experience with Halsin - what you were feeling before, what you were thinking. You admit that the only thing on your mind had been protecting him when you’d turned, horrified at the sight of him hurt and just out of your reach to save. The look of momentary surprise on Halsin’s face melts into something far softer at the revelation, a gentle praise at your own thoughtfulness to protect others that may leave you feeling bashful.

♡ Halsin actively encourages you to shift whenever you feel the desire to do so. Learn more about this form and what it means to you; refamiliarize yourself with a part of you that you’ve been separated from for such a time. He’ll talk you through it should you express any need for support, but he knows that you’re more than capable of controlling this aspect of yourself just as you have before. Of course he’ll also be admiring you the whole time, nothing but honest praise about the power of your form and the beauty of this other part of you.

Rolan

♡ It was a mistake to have ever come to the shadowlands - now Rolan is losing everything. Cal, Lia, his very own life; all of it is going to be snuffed out by the oppressive darkness which has defiled every inch of this place, and he’s powerless to do anything to stop it. All he had wanted to do was to make a life for his family, to make Rolan a name that they and others could be proud of. But every good deed seemed to only make things worse in the end - hells had even that one act of kindness saving those damned kids been rewarded like this? Not even his attempt to save his siblings had worked and now he was facing perishing in a land where death was never kind, as though the world was giving him one final kick when he was down to remind him of his own shortcomings. 

♡ Shadows circle in, lured in by the dwindling embers of his torch which is the only thing barely keeping him alive in this forsaken wasteland. But that is not enough; they claw at the edges of his light, ripping and tearing at the hem of his robes and grasping for his ankles, hoping to get a foothold on the tiefling long enough to drag him off into the darkness to never be seen again. Panic unfurls in his gut, burning brighter than the useless glorified stick clenched between sharp nails as he wrenches himself free of their grasp and stumbles over himself trying in vain to make some distance.

♡ He’s got minutes at the most, moments at the least; and those creatures writhing in shadow and dark have the luxury of biding their time waiting out his final seconds. He’s going to die here - without ever seeing his siblings again. What had he ever done to deserve such a cruel ending?

♡ But it doesn’t end - at least, not here.

♡ A roar breaks through the sound of his pulse pounding in his ears, and every hair on the back of his neck stands up as a chill shoots down his spine like a shot of ice. What, had some worse creature come to finish him off? As if being torn to shreds within the shadowlands wasn’t bad enough, now he’s got to contend with something bigger. And gods, is it bigger. Even through the thick smog of the shadowlands it stands out like a beacon of silver, its very scales giving off a faint glow within the darkness as though the shadows themselves are reviled by its presence alone. A feeling sinks within the pit of his chest the moment that he realizes what manner of creature is stalking towards him.  A dragon - gods, why did it have to be a dragon?!

♡ The beast is huge, a rippling wall of impenetrable flesh that cuts through the space between them in little more than a few bounds. Wings stretch wide, an impressively intimidating display as taloned hands slam down on where the shadows persist. The shadows dissipate easily beneath its claws but their shriek in indignation warbles uselessly, clearly not expecting the sudden attack in their bid for new prey. What the shadows have in number the dragon compensates for in size, easily swiping down a handful before attempting to latch onto another with its sizable maw.

♡ Rolan can’t tell if it’s doing any damage, but whatever perceived slight this dragon has on the shadows Rolan isn’t going to question. The shadows have their attention turned to the beast; if he has any intention of making it out alive he reasons he needs to get out of here now. But that’s easier said than done when one wrong move could have him meeting the business end of a stray swipe or the lingering shadow taking the opportunity to pounce. He’s going nowhere - not while the fight persists.

♡ Eventually the shadows must decide that facing a dragon isn’t worth the trouble just for making the meal out of the tiefling, and no sooner had Rolan been surrounded, the shadowy figures slink back into the deepest recesses of the darkness. A wave of relief warms his bones at the realization that they’ve slithered back to whatever domain formed them - he’s alive.

♡ But then those slitted eyes land back on him, and Rolan decides his chances may have been better dealing with those shadows. His attempts to escape are thwarted, the dragon rounding on him in a manner far slower than the frantic thrashing of before. No, it’s watching him, and the tiefling is rendered frozen at the curious way it tilts its head as though it recognizes something familiar.. 

♡ Almost jumps out of his own skin when it nudges him, a quick bump of its head that almost knocks him flat. Rolan barks out a curse, but the winged creature insists on pushing him till he finally takes the hint and moves to where it’s clearly wanting him to go. Gods, this is unnerving and he doesn’t know what it wants until the nudging finally stops and he finds himself staring down at the lump of belongings haphazardly discarded at his feet. And he tenses. 

♡ This pack - that lantern - he knows who they belong to at a glance. And no sooner has he put the pieces together that there’s a ripple of energy, a shift in the very air as the dragon before him begins to change. It molds into something else, taking on a form far more familiar - the last face he’d thought to see, but perhaps the one he should have expected.

♡ You just about keel over, clutching your knees and shaking bad enough to match his own as you let out a wheeze. You’re not worse for wear aside from the general health risks of being out in a land so tainted by dark magic, but even as you dust yourself off and look over at Rolan, you once again leave him speechless with a quick quip of “So…that was new.”

♡New? NEW?! You mean you just suddenly discovered your shifting abilities, like some twisted epiphany?! The pair of you must be a right sight, huddled around the moon lantern with him slack jawed and you looking more confused than you have any right to be after that stunt. It’s too much to process, and he’s still reeling from the near death experience and everything that has happened in such a short amount of time. Doesn’t put up nearly as much of a fight as he would have in his right mind when you urge him to go back to the inn - you’re grateful for that, or he might have insisted on coming with you even more.

♡ He doesn’t get to grill you on your abilities until everyone is finally safe. Many are enjoying what little respite they can get before they move on to the next place away from here, and he catches you finishing up your own business at the inn hoping for answers before you leave. Like Astarion, he has doubts that you didn’t know. Really? Not even an inkling to the draconic blood in your veins or where it had come from. Tries not to be frustrated at the shrug you offer in response, having to remind himself that this is a new development for you - he’s not going to pry you with questions when you’re likely still struggling to wrap your head around the prospect yourself.

♡ Once Rolan realizes what had triggered your transformation he goes uncharacteristically quiet, staring hard at your face as though trying to gauge your bluff. When he finds none his voice breaks with his gratitude, hiding the shake behind a cleared throat as he breaks eye contact suddenly struggling to meet the sincerity in your gaze. That was…perhaps he needed to rethink what exactly that - he - meant to you another time; in a place where there’s not always life or death on the line.

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

One hand on the wheel and the other reviewing his calculations, Gale looks steadfast and dashing in the early morning glow. His long overcoat whips about his calves in the wind, his hair buffeted to and fro. It hardly seems enough to keep him warm, given the way he keeps his shirt open to his sternum.

Gale’s startled when Doe comes bounding up the stairs to him, nearly dropping the logbook in his freehand at the sight. Tara, perched on his shoulders, flares her wings out wide, chirruping a greeting. The sailing master’s greeting, a tired half smile, falters at her words.

“You what?” His eyes go wide. “You- I-”

Gale hesitates, brown eyes darting between Doe and Astarion who trails after her. She looks positively eager at this prospect. A cambion? To help him? A literal gods-damned devil?

His mouth works, half-formed syllables caught in his throat and the back of his tongue as he tries to find any set of coherent words to explain. Gale’s mark throbs painfully, flaring with light - and this time the logbook does fall from his hand, clattering onto the deck as his hand raises to clutch at his chest.

He manages to steel himself against the surge to look up at her, his expression twisted into a panicked grimace, his eyes backlit a soft green.

“Lass,” he starts, shaking his head with trepidation, “I don’t know that a devil’s going to have any answers for my particular problem. It’s not exactly a warlock’s pact...”

Gale’s eyes flit to Astarion as he straightens with the ebb of the discomfort. His hand still rubs against the center of the mark, even as he rolls his shoulders to try and loosen the tension further. There’s a deeper sort of pain in his expression - more than just the physical. That, at least, softens when he turns his gaze back to Doe.

“I trust you to gather information - believe me, I do,” Gale starts hesitantly. “But you don’t need to put yourself in so much danger for me. Especially...especially not for me.”

-G.D.

'Too late.' Her tone is nonchalant, but her anxious fingers are braiding and coiling sections of her hair into buns on the top of her head. She whistles for the jackdaw, feeling his weight land softly on her shoulder. 'I'll be in a whole heap of trouble if we don't show up. I know it's not a warlock pact, but it's got to be close enough, right? Who else am I going to ask? We should use everything at our disposal- and that's what I mean, Gale. He likes me right now, and while that's the case I'm going to leverage that weakness. We have Faust because he wanted to spy on us. Call it payback.'

Her eyes are steely. She wants revenge, to claw back something from her and Raphael's last encounter. He's not going to use me up like he does every other poor bastard he gets his claws into.

'I'm not doing this for you.' A lie. 'I'm doing it for me.' Her hair lifts on the strengthening wind- she can feel her anger in it. The whip of her hair into her eyes rips a growl of frustration from her. She draws her dagger and hacks at it, sending dark tresses to the deck and looking back to Gale with jagged tendrils across her forehead. 'We need to go,' she implores. 'Gale.' She grits her teeth against tears, draws at the anger to galvanise her instead. 'I was drunk and injured and angry. He took advantage. He doesn't get to do that to me twice. Do you understand me?'

[vibingandsimping]

just read through your whole blog. gods I love your writing 💕💕 would you possibly be able to write how the romanced companions react to waking up to find that their Tiefling/Dragonborn partner has wrapped their tail around them in their sleep?

Oh hush. You’ll make a gal blush.

Edit: I realized I forgot Minthara and will add her later! Lovely Minthara simps I am so sorry. (It is hard remembering all the romance companions)

Astarion is a light sleeper. Hell, he doesn’t even sleep because he’s an elf. Still, he’s deep into his meditative state while you two cuddle. The vampire is the big spoon this time around. Limbs draped over you almost protectively. He stirs a little when something snakes up his ankle towards his knee. His first instinct is to thrash and fight whatever it was. The idea it’d be an animal, that is. After squirming he realizes it was too warm and too large. He looks over at you and sees how content you are. His gaze drifts down towards his leg. Ah, of course it’s your tail. Astarion smiles and suddenly softens at how domestic the act is. The male takes it for you being comfortable with him and nuzzles into you with a sigh. One hand trailing from your body down to his thigh. His fingers intertwining with the tip of your tail. It felt intimate- a type of intimacy that wasn’t sexual. Something new that made his chest soar and he swore he could feel his cold heart beating.

Karlach is laid on her back while you press into her side. Arms wrapped around your shoulder and waist as she sleeps away. You’re quite warm and cozy whenever you two cuddle. Your sleep comes at you hard- almost infectious to the deep sleep she’s in. This girl is a heavy sleeper- and you’d have to splash her with water if you wanted to wake her outside of her schedule. So, it’s no surprise that she doesn’t wake when your tail begins to coil around her. She shifts as it works it’s way around her. The woman’s body instinctively reacts and her tail finds yours. Hooking around the appendage and linking together. It’s natural for tieflings to intertwine in such ways during rest or intimate acts. A soft smile graces her lips as she sleeps and her grip tightens. It’d been a long time since she was able to hold anyone like this. She wakes that morning with a renewed vigor and a shy request to do that again. You simply blush and laugh with her when she remarks how comforting it was.

Gale only stirs when your tail tightens around his waist noticeably. His eyes groggily part and he looks around as his hand trails to his abdomen. After a quick squeeze and inspection of the texture he puts two and two together. He smiles and chuckles to himself. His fingers continuing to trail the skin of the tail as he relishes in your comfort. Then, he lets go and wraps his arms around you further. Drawing you in closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead in tender fashion. Tucking the hair from your face so he can admire you properly. He does make a quip about it in the morning which causes you to flush. He certainly doesn’t mind, no, you can do it all you’d like. It becomes the highlight of his nights. He’d write a poem about it, probably. If you ever found it he’d likely die of mortification. (He’ll get over it.) That, or he’d ask how you felt about it and ask for criticism. Possibly attempting to fluster you in the process.

Wyll has a habit of rubbing his horns against you as he sleeps. Ever since he was turned by Mizora for not honoring his contract. You’d butt your horns with his whenever he fell asleep first and laugh quietly. You’d make subtle comments and he’d blush. Wyll was still learning the new nature of himself and of his new body. Though, this night was his first time to tease you on your habits. You’d been particularly exhausted, turning into his tent for the night. You snuggled into him and you were out in minutes. He had an arm draped over you as he laid with his eyes closed. Your tail began to wrap around him and he parted his eyes. The man watched as you coiled him like a snake and a grin danced on his lips. Torn between not mentioning it at all or getting some deserved revenge. For now, he’d let you sleep. You deserved that at the very least. He stroked your hair as you slept while occasionally glancing at the tail fastened around him.

Shadowheart, hate to say it, dislikes it at first. (At first being the key here.) It’s not that she dislikes you in any form but it freaks her out. Possibly it’s the fact that it’s a tail tightening around her. Or, possibly it’s the phobia of wolves in the back of her mind. Thankfully your tail isn’t furry or she’d genuinely lose it. Especially if she had been asleep and woke to it. Shadowheart tries her best not to mention it to you. It’s your nature and she recognizes it as a form of affection. After a few nights, she slowly adjusts to it. The half-elf allows herself to he curious. Touching it, gently tugging it and letting it wrap around her fingers. It helped ease the subconscious of her mind. She learns to enjoy it, thankfully. She does make a mention of it one day. How it used to freak her out and your heart sank. She saw the look on your face and instantly frowned. She reassured you hurriedly that it was something irrational. That’s why she never spoke of it before. The last thing she’d want you to do is stop.

Lae’zel is a warrior through and through. It took her awhile to be comfortable with cuddling. It’s against her training initially. She holds you so tight when you two share a bedroll. Nearly knocking the wind from your lungs every-time her arms wrap around you. Holding you like you’d disappear in a moments notice. She typically sleeps quite peacefully whilst still on guard. Her face soft and relaxed but with a more rigid body. So, it wasn’t a surprise that when you first slinked your tail she jerked awake. Her hand wrapping around the appendage tightly as she blinked the sleep from her eyes. You flinched and began to squirm- the githyanki finally registering what happened. Her fingers dropped your tail as you relaxed in your dream. A heady sigh escaped her as she rubbed the spot apologetically. She doesn’t mind it, no. It’s just something she’ll have to adjust to. She returns to her previous position and presses her face into your neck. Eyes fluttering shut as she wills sleep to take her once more.

Halsin sleeps in his bear form. You’re likely under his furry body with his front paws splayed around you. His claws and fur tickling your bare skin. To think you can wrap your tail effectively around him is… bold. He definitely does wake to it one night swaying. A large yawn escaping him in almost a roar as he sits up. His head jerking to locate the thumping sound that awoke him from his slumber. He then spots it- your tail swishing as you seem to be having a vivid dream. He figured it was one of contentment or perhaps excitement. He sits and watches for awhile as the movement was quite mesmerizing. Then, when he had his fill and exhaustion pulled at his mind again he flops back down. Taking his two forearms and pulling you in tight. He pins the base of your tail against his stomach- effectively cutting most of the motion off. As much as he finds it adoring, Halsin needs his sleep too. He certainly makes a comment in the morning. Mostly about how he’s thrilled you feel content with him.

[galedekarios]

one with the weave 🌟

[dekariosclan]

That music ask gave me an idea I can’t get over.

Imagine Dad!Gale. Tav is plunking out a lullaby on the piano while he reads to their little one. He notices the kiddo isn’t paying attention to the book, they’re more interested in the music.

He gently nudges them towards Tav and the itty bitty magician scampers over, begging Tav to teach them.

“Of course my little love! But first scales!” Tav says.

Gale watches with a satisfied smile as Tav teaches their little one’s fingers the ups and downs of the treble cliff line.

How could godhood compare to this moment?

Ohhh, Gale enjoying sweet domestic moments, my beloved 🥹💜 This is a tear-jerker for sure!

I firmly believe that human Gale would have so, so, so many moments like this, moments where he pauses to take in the joy of a little everyday interaction with his beloved partner/spouse, or his partner/spouse and child, or his partner/spouse and children, depending on your particular HC and whether Tav and Gale got married, etc.

Because human Gale recognizes how precious these moments are. In the epilogue where Gale does not succeed at achieving godhood and he dies, his simulacrum laments his foolishness: “To think I believed godhood was worth losing all this...” And in the epilogue with our beloved Professor/Adventurer Gale, we see him getting choked up at being reunited with the other companions again: “I never thought we’d be together like this again…”

This is why Gale choosing the human path is so important: he not only learns to accept himself, he also learns to embrace mortality, and to cherish all the gifts that it has to offer.

So, if I may continue your ask:

———

How could godhood compare to this moment?

Gale sees his little one’s face light up with glee as Tav patiently instructs them, and he feels his eyes filling up in response.

To think I might never have experienced this…to think I might have traded this for…what? Power? Power wrapped in a cloak of loneliness? Power buried under the weight of an eternity of regret? Foolishness. Madness…

For a moment he’s so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t realize tears are streaking down his cheeks, soaking into his beard.

“Gale?” Tav’s loving voice brings him back to the present, and he blinks at the wetness in his eyes as he tries to focus. “Oh, love. Are you crying?” There’s affection in Tav’s voice, and an amused, adoring smile on their face. “…again?”

Gale can’t help but laugh in response, at the situation, at himself, and yet it only makes his eyes well up even more. “I love you,” he says, for what else is there to say? Those are the only words that matter.

He joins Tav and their child at the piano bench, crouching so that he can be close to them, bad knees be damned. His little one looks up as he does so, and concern flickers over their face. It’s such a sweet expression that for an instant it makes Gale’s breath catch.

“Daddy sad?” They ask, eyes wide as they reach out to touch his wet cheek.

Gale’s reply is a barrage of kisses before scooping them up, taking their tiny hand between his thumb and forefinger, feeling how warm and delicate it is, marveling at their perfect mortality.

“Oh no, my love,” he says, laughing even as the tears flow faster, pulling Tav in so that he can embrace them both, his two perfect loves. “Daddy is happy. So very, very happy.”

[sansaorgana]

I just need to know how buck would react to his wife Breastfeeding! I feel like he is definitely a tits kind of man

oh, darling, let's be real – he's a ✨personality ✨ kind of man 🤭😂 but yeah, I agree 👀 also, I love him being a softie so much 😌 I didn't put any warnings but I assume you know already what to expect from this fic lol 🍼

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

my requests are currently closed 🙅🏻‍♀️

Usually, it was Buck who would leave the bed in the middle of the night to bring the crying baby to you but today he seemed to be so deep in his sleep that no amount of your daughter’s screaming was waking him up. You sighed and caressed his hair softly without wanting to wake him up – he deserved his rest as well, after all, and it had been a long and tiring week for him at work.

You got out of the bed and put a robe loosely upon your nightgown as you slid your feet inside a pair of slippers waiting for you on the carpet. Softly and quietly you left the bedroom and hurried to the nursery where your little girl was crying her lungs out.

“Hey, shh, shh,” you cooed to her while picking her up after turning a small lamp on. It was not very bright and perfect for the nighttime when little Dolores was getting hungry.

You sat with her on the rocking chair by the window and kept shushing her softly, trying to unbutton your nightgown clumsily with your free hand while keeping her steady with your other arm.

“Don’t cry, little one, don’t wake daddy up, he needs his rest,” you smiled at her and adjusted her in your arms so she could finally get fed as you watched her tiny features in awe. You were still quite sleepy but you would never change anything. Sleep was not as important as spending time with your baby.

Lost in thoughts and Dolly’s sweet little face, you didn’t notice Buck leaning on the doorway and watching you with the same amount of love as you were staring at your babygirl with.

When you looked up for a second, you got startled at the sight of him and then you chuckled.

“Sorry,” he mumbled out. “I woke up and you weren’t there but there was a light coming from the hall so I knew where you went,” he explained with a soft smile.

“You should have stayed in bed, love,” you whispered to him.

“And miss this? No way,” your husband approached you and crouched down next to you so he could see Dolly’s face, too. She opened her eyes and looked at him as she kicked her little feet. Buck grabbed them and caressed them gently. “Isn’t she perfect?” He looked up at you and gasped.

“Yes, she is,” you nodded but you furrowed your brow at his gasp. “What is it?”

“You’re a goddess, really,” he admitted and you felt your cheeks heating up.

“Oh, Gale, please,” you dismissed that praise shyly.

“I mean it,” Buck whispered and gently let go of Dolly’s feet to caress your cheek with his finger. “After everything I’ve been through, all that death and darkness… You’re a beacon of light, a life-giver, a mother,” he explained. “And I will forever worship you for that.”

You cracked a smile at his words and fought the tears forming in your eyes.

“I wish you haven’t gone through any of that,” you confessed, nearly inaudibly.

“But I have and maybe thanks to that I can appreciate what I have even more,” Buck nodded.

“You’ve always been a good man,” you reminded him and it was true. Your husband had always been kind and generous and a gentleman. You had never complained about anything that actually mattered. He didn’t deserve any of the suffering he had been through and he certainly hadn’t needed it to help him shape his character because he had simply always been a good man.

Even in that dim light you could see your husband’s cheeks turning slightly pink. He was adorable, like a little boy. You wished you could hold him close and make all his pain go away, all the awful memories, all the nightmares, all the triggers. You just wanted him to relax, you wanted to give him peace.

Little Dolly squealed a bit and you looked down to see her mouth curling up in a small smile as droplets of milk were dripping down her chin. You chuckled at that and lifted her up as Buck took a tissue from the changing table to wipe her face gently.

“I’ll take her,” he offered and you let him take the baby. Buck started to carry her around while patting her back delicately and you wiped the milk leaking out of your breast swiftly before buttoning the nightgown up.

You kept sitting in the rocking chair and watching your lovely husband walking around the small nursery that he had prepared by himself before Dolly’s arrival to this world. And now was humming a lullaby to his little girl and everything seemed to be so perfect and cosy. You couldn’t be happier than that, you thought.

When Dolly could be placed back in her crib, Buck made sure to watch over her until she fell asleep. He told you to go back to the bedroom and even though you felt guilty that once again he was the one to stay up in the nursery, you were grateful for him telling you to rest instead.

You were still weak after the childbirth and all the pregnancy and he was just one of those husbands who actually appreciated their wives for carrying their children for them. He was tired after this previous week, too, but he knew his exhaustion was no match compared to yours.

So, you went back to the bedroom and you sat up with the pillows behind your back because you wanted to wait for him. You weren’t that sleepy anymore but you were grateful for the possibility of going back to bed – especially your spine was very happy about it.

Buck came back not so long after you since it never took Dolly long to fall asleep in the middle of the night after being fed. You hoped it would stay this way. In general, so far she had been a quite unproblematic child of a gentle nature and you suspected it was a trait she had after her father.

Buck went under the cover and laid down next to you, looking up at you with his pretty puppy eyes as he leaned in to kiss your tummy.

“You sleepy, darling? Want me to turn the light off?” You asked him and caressed his hair.

“It’s fine. I want to stay up and keep looking at you for a while,” he admitted and you giggled.

“You’re mad,” you pointed out playfully.

“Sure I am. Mad about you,” Buck answered and you rolled your eyes as you kept caressing his hair and face – gently, with your fingertips, tracing the outlines of the thin scars scattered all over his face.

“I love you,” you whispered with all seriousness.

“I love you, too,” he whispered back with a soft smile.

There were many other things that had been told between you two with those three words but you didn’t have to actually list them all out loud. Your “I love you” was enough to thank him for his sacrifice, for surviving the war and coming back to you. It was enough to let him know you would take it all away from him if it was possible. And his “I love you, too” was enough for you to know that he knew what you meant and he thanked you for understanding and for waiting for him, for always treating him so kind and soft – for giving him a baby, too.

Buck moved closer to you and buried his face in your nightgown, breathing in your scent. You kept playing with his hair and sighed softly when he looked up with a smile.

“It smells so sweet,” he whispered and you furrowed your brow because you hadn’t used any perfume before going to bed. “The milk, I assume,” he added and unbuttoned two of the small buttons of your nightgown to bury his face deeper into your chest and take a deep breath in. “Yeah, it’s the milk,” he nodded.

“It tastes sweet, too,” you told him with a smirk and Buck tilted his head as he kept looking up at your face.

“How do you know?” He chuckled.

“Sometimes, when it leaks out on my fingers, I am too lazy to wipe it off and I just lick it off of my fingers,” you confessed. “Well, I was pretty curious about it, too,” you told him, hoping he wouldn’t judge you.

But Buck would never judge you.

He swallowed a lump in his throat and looked down between your breasts as if he was contemplating on something. Finally, he looked up again and his cheeks were crimson red.

“Can I… Can I taste it, too?” He asked.

You were taken aback by this question. Not that you found it obscene or disgusting but you definitely did not expect your husband to request such a thing.

“Yes, my love, of course,” you smiled at him with a nod and began to work on your buttons. You would never deny him anything.

“Only if… If it’s still gonna be enough for Dolly in the morning,” Buck interrupted you by placing his hand on top of yours.

“Don’t worry about that, sweetheart, she’s gonna have enough,” you assured him with a chuckle and he nodded.

Buck watched in awe when you kept unbuttoning your nightgown – a sight he had seen many times now but this time it was different. It was only for him and you were doing it slowly, which was done on purpose to give him a little show. It felt intimate on a level he had never been with you before although he had never thought it possible.

He nearly moaned at the sight of your swollen breasts jumping out of your nightgown. They had gotten so big due to your pregnancy and he was obsessed with them even more than usual now. A simple thought that they were swollen with milk for his baby was enough to make him have impure thoughts sometimes. He had always worshipped you and the ground you walked on but you becoming a mother of his child only intensified the feeling – he couldn’t believe his happiness, really. The woman he loved so much was loving him back and she wanted to give him a family even though she had to sacrifice so much and her body was a real miracle for actually being able to grow a child and give birth… For Buck you truly were a goddess and he couldn’t care less if it was a blasphemy or not.

Carefully, he touched your breasts and you hissed quietly because they were so sore and sensitive. But Buck knew that already so he was trying to be as gentle as possible when he softly massaged them and watched the milk leak out. He allowed it to flow for some time and only when your breasts were covered in white streamlets, he licked them up while peppering your skin with kisses.

“So sweet,” he said and looked up as you noticed his pupils darkening. You knew that look very well.

“Baby, it’s too early for us to…” You started.

“I know, don’t worry,” he interrupted you and moved up a little to get better access. “I won’t hurt you,” he assured you and you believed him because Buck would never do anything to harm you.

He attached his lip to your nipple and began to suck. You sighed out of relief and threw your head back while caressing his hair and feeling how his muscles relax under your touch. It was all you wanted for him – to finally rest and be at peace, to feel safe in your arms.

His soft, plump lips sucking on your sore nipples softly were making you feel warm all over your body. You were sighing and gasping with pleasure as the hardness of his cock grew, brushing your thigh under the fabric of his pyjama pants.

You felt bad for him because he wouldn’t be able to properly fuck you in two more weeks so you decided to please him in a different way. One of your hands wandered all the way down and under his pants to take his hard and swollen cock. You could already feel the leaking precum and you had to admit, you were pretty surprised that sucking your breasts could make him get so hard so fast but on the other hand you two hadn’t had sex in over a month now.

“Ooh, so heavy. Let me help you with that, baby,” you moaned at the feeling.

With your other hand you kept caressing the back of his head as you started to pump his cock. Buck moaned into your chest and attached his lips to the other nipple as his hands played with your free breast. He bucked his hips to help you jerk him off since he was so desperate to finally have his sweet release. He was nearly as desperate as he had been after coming back home from Europe but you didn’t mind that at all. In fact, you found it pretty hot that he was so needy for you and that it wasn’t taking much for him to finish because of you.

“Shh, you’re such a good boy for me,” you assured him in a whisper. “Let go, baby, don’t hold back.”

You picked up your pace and let your thumb circle around his tip to stimulate him even further and in a few chaotic thrusts of his hips, he came all over your hand while gasping and holding on to you. You kissed the top of his head with a soft smile and caressed his softening cock a few more times before reaching out to your nightstand for a tissue to clean up the mess.

“Did it feel good?” You asked, looking down at his face. His pretty baby blue eyes were hazy and his lips slightly parted. His flushed cheeks and messy hair were making him look even more adorable.

“It felt like heaven,” he breathed out.

You chuckled at that and wiped the corners of his mouth with another tissue to clean him up from your milk before cleaning up your breasts, too. Buck rolled over to lay on his back as he ran his hand through his hair and down his face.

“We can do it more often if you want to,” you told him after throwing the tissues away. “It felt nice… Such a relief,” you told him truthfully. “Sometimes she doesn’t drink enough and I am too full,” you added and rested your cheek on your elbow as you stared at his face lovingly.

Buck turned his face around to look into your eyes. He was still blushing slightly but he cracked a shy smile at you.

“Yeah, well, I’m your husband and it’s my duty to help you then, is it not?” He raised an eyebrow and you giggled before leaning in to kiss his cheek and then the top of his nose and lips.

“You’re an amazing husband, darling. Performing all of your duties so well that you should get a medal for that,” you teased him playfully.

“I don’t collect my medals,” he reminded you. He still didn’t collect the ones he had been given in Europe.

“Oh, this one you will,” you assured him with a wink. “Just give me two weeks.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[naughtybg3confessions]

I want to hug Gale tightly and hold his hand. Perhaps even give him a little forehead kiss.