#and you could be the new Mystra and tell him to do it

[powdermelonkeg]

But Mystra WASNT right to ask Gale to kill himself. She still told a guy who cared about her "hey. if you love me, destroy yourself for me"

You're right, she did do that. And that's horrible, and shows exactly how little value she places on Gale's life.

And that's the point. She thinks she's in the right. She thinks hurting him is worth everything else she would take out in the process. She thinks she's giving him the best option.

It's very hard, from a mortal perspective, to picture how the gods see things. You can throw analogy after analogy before them to try to comprehend it, but in the end, the gods have power on such a scale that we, as readers and players, do not have an equivalent answer to compare them to.

What we bring to the table, through Tav, is that mortal perspective: we don't care about the greater good of preserving Faerûn's Weave. We don't care about the grand battle between Shar and Selûne that's lasted since the beginning of time. We don't care about the balance of life and death. We're so far beneath eternity-spanning events like that that the here and now are what we care about most.

And that's what the Origins need most. That's what Gale needs most.

Mystra's perspective, what goes on in her head, is a measured, calculated list of facts, weighed against each other:

Gale would do anything for her.

Gale possesses a weapon that needs to be destroyed.

Gale is going to die of that weapon without divine intervention.

The Dead Three are a threat.

The Dead Three have Karsus' crown.

The Dead Three could kill her again.

The scope of her power is such that a single mortal life is worth very little. Ketheric was onto something when he said "We are copper pieces in their belts. Tokens to be traded for scraps." Because that's what Mystra's doing, isn't it? She's cashing in on Gale's devotion to her.

Mystra sees a problem. She realizes she holds the solution. She thinks she's making it right by offering eternity. She fancies herself as being patient and kind by letting that solution choose to work for her.

That's the divine perspective.

The mortal perspective, the perspective that matters most, is best summed up by two lines of Gale and Mystra's conversation in the Stormshore Tabernacle:

Mystra: You discovered what lies at the Heart of the Absolute—the Crown of Karsus—and you disobeyed my instruction. Why?

Gale: Because you had no right to ask that of me!

She didn't. She doesn't.

The divine perspective is the one that lacks love. It lacks the ability to see value in a person, for being a person. It quantifies what worth something has by what it can do for you. And it is dangerous, because it cannot be told it is wrong.

Gale and Mystra were always an unbalanced relationship. When he was young, she was his teacher: she knew things he didn't, withheld them until he was ready to learn them, and directly controlled his interaction with her craft.

When she was his muse, she was the font of his creativity. He made things in her name, for little but attention in return. He gave, and gave, and was wholly devoted to her. Such is the nature of gods that it's foolish to expect them to give back to you at all.

And then she was his lover. And she was untouchable. She cannot be told "no" definitively; the only guarantee that she'll adhere to a "no" is her own personal moral code, or lingering admiration for the person who says it. She can't give herself to someone. She can spend time with them, but she can never give equally. She is a god. She exists to be served.

Gale's life, before the tadpole, was defined by Mystra. He was destined for greatness, spoke personally with Elminster, wielded the Blackstaff—and yet, he says he had no friends, and few colleagues. He's had mortal lovers, but they barely get a footnote in the story of his life. His social circle was "the size of a pinhead."

Mystra, by nature of being a god, intentionally or not, isolated Gale from his peers. You could argue any number of reasons why—my own personal bet being that he was so enamored with her that everyone else fell to the wayside—but he is alone. Even Lorroakan, down in Baldur's Gate, knew about him, and defines him only by nature of his relationship to Mystra.

The nature of gods is that anyone they speak with is now worlds away from anyone once called friends. How do you hold conversations with people when you're everyone at the table's god's favorite?

Mystra's very presence eroded away Gale over time. His friendships suffered. His joy in mortal sides of himself withered. His outlook on his own merits was restricted to what he could do with the magic at his command—did Mystra only see value in that, or did his peers and former lovers only care for what she gifted him? Both are likely. Especially with this line in his romance: "To know you love me for the man I am, and not the magic I command—none have loved me so purely."

And that isolation tore him open after his claim of the Netherese Orb, because he locked himself in his tower for a year. He didn't have those connections to reach out and ask for help, because being a god's lover burned that all away.

And then, after silence, after her fury leading to his terrified misery, after he thinks he's going to die any day, she comes in with a double-edged sword, putting the Orb to rest, at last, while telling him to fall to it anyway. The power imbalance is on full display, here: her expectations are so unrealistic that it will destroy him, in the name of forgiveness. If he loves her, he should give everything for her.

And he is going to do it.

There's such a tangled mess of emotions that explode from that.

She stabilized him. She could have done that whenever. She didn't, because it didn't serve her needs.

A year of silence, Gale thinking she'd taken everything from him and Mystra not caring enough to explain otherwise, and the first thing she says is die.

He's a pawn. Literally. She wants him to go to the other side of the board and trade his life for the winning move.

He doesn't want to die. But he's terrified that that's what's best for the world.

The divine perspective is that he gets what he deserves. The divine perspective is that she's being merciful, because she's giving him a home afterwards with her.

The mortal perspective is that she's cruel. That this is cruel. That Gale is only worth what he can give to her. That his death is more useful than his life. That ending that beautiful man with all his wants, and hopes, and dreams, at the drop of a pin, is nothing to her.

If you explode Gale at Moonrise, the Sword Coast falls to the Mindflayers. Mystra is a god, she can see that outcome. But she is a god of magic, and as such, it's not her problem. Her problem has been dealt with.

Let me go back to Withers' question:

Withers: And so, I ask again: what is the worth of a single mortal life?

Tav: Each life is of infinite value and merits sacrificing everything for.

Withers: And thus, balance is achieved.

Mystra cannot answer this question correctly. A single mortal life could never be worth the sacrifice in her eyes. She uses people as a means to an end, because the ends justify the means retroactively to her. Dornal Silverhand's suffering and Elué Silverhand's death begot her seven powerful Chosen. Two people for the wellbeing of many. She'll continue to use people like this, because that's what she is. That's what godhood entails.

Gale could likely answer this question properly, though not act on it perfectly. If his Netherese blight could save people, even if it's terrifying, he would blow himself up. He has to be talked down from it. He doesn't realize that he is one of those lives of infinite value.

What about God Gale? Can he answer it?

Of course not. He wouldn't sacrifice his godhood to come back home to mortality. He looks down on mortal life. He thinks he's above it. He, a newly minted god, is a perfect window into the basis of how gods perceive things.

Mystra asking Gale to kill himself betrays her lack of value in him as a person. Like God Gale, she looks down on mortality, just much, much more subtly. He's a means to an end. All mortals are.

Pawn to Cleric Four.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #mystra #long post #ask bee #there's also something to be said of the player being literally put into mystra's shoes at the end #gale could blow up the brain. he could save everyone. for you #he offers it #and you could be the new Mystra and tell him to do it #god gale is a great parallel to gale's past with mystra before the orb. but tav is a parallel to AFTER the orb

[messiahzzz]

i have seen several posts around that addressed how discouraging gale from taking the crown of karsus is “keeping him from realizing his true potential.” that tara is merely upset at his choice, instead of being utterly devastated at the loss of her little love. that it’s not a bad ending per se because to get there he didn’t need to sacrifice 7000 innocent souls in the process. gale isn’t continuing the cycle of abuse either, he still appears to love tav and does come back for them to offer them ascension. he wants them to be equal, so it can’t possibly be an unhealthy dynamic, right?

but what of gale himself, his own convictions, values, and everything he holds dear? everything flawed and human that shaped him into the person he is?

player: are you saying you want to ascend? claim godhood?

gale: no, not like that. i don't want to join them. i want to better them. a god's powers, paired with a mortal conscience, a mortal heart.

gale’s motivation for acquiring godhood is that he will able to aid mortals in a way no other god has ever done before. he won’t hide behind pretense nor require blind devotion of his followers. he will understand and be able to empathize. he wholeheartedly believes that he will be different - he will act.

gale: [..] the gods could aid us if they wished, but instead they cower behind ao. so let us act ourselves.

gale believes that by becoming a god he will kill two birds with one stone: aid mortals and acquire enough power to quash any of his insecurities and enemies in the process. that by ridding himself of every perceived flaw he'll finally feel like he will have enough to offer - maybe, just maybe he'll even be content. his flaws are merely holding him back from becoming the best version of himself, and by ridding himself of everything fallible, he will be whole. maybe this is what all of his suffering has led up to. maybe the orb chose him. maybe the reason he had to endure all the pain, isolation, and excruciating loneliness was so that he could realize that he was meant for something even greater. after all, power feeds ambition. and what is more powerful than a god? his convictions were certainly naive, he possesses enough knowledge to know better. don't get me wrong, part of him definitely wants to spite mystra a lil. but his intentions at that time were mostly pure. a reflection of his self-hatred and feelings of inadequacy.

player: this is wrong, gale. that power will corrupt you, even if you can seize it.

gale: it won't, i swear to you. it's merely a tool - a means to an end.

once we meet gale at the party in his new godlike form, it is apparent that even with all the power at his fingertips, he has reached no greater knowledge about himself. his insecurities are still as present as before, he merely is less subtle in his compensation - repeatedly highlighting his grandeur and how dull life on faerun is compared to the wonders of elysium. it is also genuinely crushing to see how little he thinks of himself even now.

gale: i was nothing. a drifting dust mote of a wizard, abandoned by my goddess, my powers lost, my reputation destroyed. and look at me now. i'm their proof.

any perceived dismissal of his Greatness™ is met with immediate disdain.

gale: a bold decision to treat a divine being with such cold indifference.

nodecontext: aloof, annoyed you weren't impressed with him

gale: you mortals do love to live dangerously, don't you?

nodecontext: the slightest hint of a threat - you've probably made an enemy here today. or at least, you've lost a friend.

he is still desperate to impress. emphasizing what an honor it is that a new-born god chose to bless their little soiree with his presence. gaze upon all his divine glory! gale has now become the embodiment of everything he criticized about the gods. his original intentions and plans are discarded and long forgotten. he assuages his erstwhile companions by telling them to simply pray to him, in case they should ever require aid. if they're lucky and their ambition pleases him, he might even deliver.

player: what does the 'god of ambition' offer to his followers?

gale: i 'offer' them nothing. i inspire them to seize their destinies for themselves.

player: interesting, so you help mortals help themselves?

gale: precisely. though that isn't to say i'm averse to the odd bit of direct encouragement.

gale: [..] my aims are set a little higher than offering cursory blessings to just any half-decent spellcaster.

gale: regardless, ethical quandaries are more the remit of my mortal devotees. they do love to talk, and faerun is starting to listen.

aiding "any half-decent spellcaster" is unbefitting of his status. he isn't concerned with questions of ethics and morality either. deeming such matters beneath his divine capabilities.

once gale has ascended and established his domain, what remains of the gale we knew? what of his mortal heart?

minthara: your ambition is not cruel, but you fear that if you indulge it, you will lose yourself in the mysteries of the weave and unravel the world.

minthara: you are afraid of so many things, and it is that fear that keeps you true to yourself.

gale did lose himself and ultimately became one of his biggest fears. considering that his existence as a being of pure ambition leads him to constantly seek out greater heights, it isn't farfetched to believe that raphael's prediction will indeed come true.

player[astarion]: ambition? finally, a god i can get behind...

gale: i assure you, this is merely the prelude to a far grander vision. elysium's in for something of a shake-up.

all that remains of gale is a thin veneer of the person he used to be. what he presents is a hollow echo of the old gale. he does retain some of his mannerisms and quirks, but he is definitely a lot colder and more condescending. if his personality already changed that drastically after a duration of only 6 months, what will he inevitability turn into when he has eternity at his disposal?

essentially, you are aiding gale in the eradication of himself. eradicating everything about him that made him into the loveable, charismatic, awkward, kind, buoyant person he was. everything about him that he perceived as defective, flawed, and lesser-than. before, his hubris was merely an expression of his own discontentment and low self-worth, but now he is hubris incarnate. all of his worst qualities have been amplified.

gale: i am ambition incarnate. as indistinguishable from that most potent sensation as mystra herself is from the weave. and word is spreading.

nodecontext: palpable, almost unsettling excitement from him - hint of megalomania

he put his trust in tav, trusting their judgment and relying on them to nudge him in the right direction. after all, they had plenty of opportunities to show him that they are an ally worth following and confiding in. but in the end, the prospect of what he could be, the things he could give them, the enemies he could yet conquer, won over the desire to simply accept him and help him rebuild a life on solid ground. tav denied him the unconditional love he craves most out of their own selfish desires.

tara: you were looking out for him. i expected better of you.

as i've already mentioned, gale desires nothing more than to be seen, accepted, loved, and valued. having a partner who wholeheartedly supports and believes in him is enough to make him feel content. most importantly - he just wants to live. to enjoy life with everything it has to offer. his ambition can’t be quenched because he hungers still. believing that only by acquiring more power will he finally be enough and reach said acceptance.

we see in his good ending that his own contentment was even able to influence and (temporarily) sate the orb's ever-present hunger:

gale: [..] or perhaps the orb's hunger was fuelled by my own, and my contentment influences it in much the same way.

gale: that's how i feel with you - content. it's a rather unfamiliar feeling, i must say. not something gale of waterdeep ever craved.

it is devastating that he doesn't reach the same feeling of fulfillment if he chooses to pursue godhood, and is instead compelled to continuously surpass his own accomplishments. not being granted rest or reprieve.

gale: i achieved everything we hoped i would, and still i'm not good enough for you?

gale pursuing godhood isn't evidence that he "has been evil all along" or that he "just waited to be unleashed" either. we can't diminish tav's influence in this outcome, they are after all an extension of the player. able to steer every companion toward a path of redemption or to enable them in their worst traits. fandom has already established that by letting astarion ascend you are actively supporting him in becoming the very thing he despises most, putting your own ambitions and idea of what you want him to be above his healing, this is no different.

tara: the gale i knew wasn't like this. he recognised his mistakes. he was contrite. all he wanted to do was live.

tara: unfortunately, he fell into company that turned his gaze towards foolishness. yes, i mean you.

player: gale is his own man, tara.

tara: false. he was mine. though now he belongs only to his own pride.

yes, the epilogue cutscene is beautiful and there is something bittersweet and romantic about his love for tav being one of the few emotions that remained a constant throughout the past 6 months. he didn't need to come back for them, but he did cause he loves them still. no matter how warped his definition of love may be now. while it is abundantly clear that tav ranks lower on his priority list than they did before, his commitment remains.

gale fears isolation, hoping to never return to the time when he was hopeless and alone, stuck inside his tower. by heading in this direction he is once again creating a self-fulfilling prophecy.

tara: [..] if i pretended you hadn't turned tail on every lesson you set out to learn, i'd have no right to call myself your friend.

morena may as well have already resigned herself to her son’s death. elminster partly blames himself. for his lapse in judgment, as well as being the one who plucked him from obscurity in the first place. mourning the kind, bright-eyed boy who cried at the scorched roses in his neighbor's garden. tara won't be here anymore to care and look out for him either. he has lost his oldest and dearest friend, the one who witnessed his downfall from grace and never left his side. who believed him to be the finest mind AND the finest wizard she's ever had the pleasure to know. who was certain that he’d find a way out of any crisis no matter the circumstances. ...and if tav declines his offer to ascend with him? what does he have left?

gale: yes, i am rather radiant, aren't i?

tara: don't flatter yourself, gale. you've debased yourself in ways i could never have fathomed.

tara: goodbye gale, i hope the heavens are worth it.

gale’s godhood ending deals with the loss of humanity, the loss of oneself, and everything one holds dear. it is a devastating and bone-chilling narrative. it is a tragedy.

gale: i hope you don't think less of me. great ambition should not come at the expense of what you already hold dear. i see that now.

if gale could see himself, he would be horrified at the losses he deemed necessary to get here. he would be horrified at what he’s become.

#buckle in this is gonna be a long one! #even for my standards #to be clear this is by no means meant as a slight against specific users #just here to clarify that it is definitely one of the worst outcomes for gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 epilogue #bg3 epilogue spoilers #bg3 patch 5 #bg3 meta #god!gale #had this sitting in my drafts for days now but i am so sleep-deprived that i can't even tell if this is cohesive anymore (i apologize)

[numberonetrashwitch]

Some observations about Baldurs Gate 3 that hit too close to home.

After another few runs i will probably just make an in-Depth Character Analysis for every character simply because they are good reflections of actual trauma-manifestations and how abuse can manifest in people. They are also so well written that it serves a narrative purpose to explore all the material that is out there about them. I am also personally cursed with actual medically-relevant levels of Empathy and Hyperfixation; so writing this helps me put a pin in it and move on.

But so far here are my highlights

(SPOILERS and obviously content warning bc these are deep)

before you ask; i have almost 300h in this game.

You have to convince Shadowheart to eat the Noblestalk. She actually stells you she rather get her memories back from Shar but when you hit the persuasion or intimidation (what the fuck) check to get her to eat it she'll tell you about her childhood friend. Not her name, not her parents but her best firend. Possibly because she has had a closer bond to that person after being abducted and indoctrinated. With her believing herself to be an orphan, she would've looked elsewhere for comfort and sought out her own family, this is why she falls hard and heavy for Shar and builds the backbone of her indoctrination. She is literally ripped out of her home & given a new identity to server her from all she has known. Religious indoctrination, Gaslighting, Abduction, being forced to let go of your personality are her main themes.

There is a scene out there floating around in which you see Astarions pespective of the night when he bites Tav for the first time, in his meditations he is confronted with the rules Cazador put on him, including that he can't eat intelligent creatures, can't be away from Cazador unless allowed to, has to obey every command and that they are should know that they are property. Which in turn means that Astarion literally didn't just have any autonomy, he was objectified (and not just through seductive/sexual measures) and that is really the crux to understanding why he doesn't believe in kindness, but rather shows self-serving behavior in most cases. Since we know that Astarion was extremely young for an elf before he died and became immortal (literally stopping the aging /maturing process) it is also very telling that Cazador constantly calls him brat, boy or other very juvanile names, refering to them as a family... well it is also the story of a very controlling parent. Themes of (Bodily) autonomy, infantilization ( & puer aeternus, forever-child), slavery, depersonalisation, corruption of life and torture to break someone.

Gale isn't just a guy hung up on his Ex, but also a victim of abuse. In this case a power imbalance none of us can fathom; She is described as being a jealous goddess and rules over the domain of mysteries and magic. So with Gale being a Wizard, she is literally his boss. He admits that he was foolish enough to aspire to be an equal to her, but she is so jealous that she tells him he can't really be worthy as long as he takes breath. She could just take his powers away and be done with it, that would be more than enough punishment for a guy who literally made Mystra and her domain his life's purpose, but she rather makes him do it himself. Add to that, that she literally only tells him this after years of self-isolation (after he put down so many wards that he could've blown up a whole army as he says if you click the right dialogue) to really fuck him up well. He also talks about death pretty much constantly, not surprising giving your situation, but he will tell you that he will kill himself at several points in the game, for instance after he comes clear about his nethrese orb. Themes of romantic abuse, power-imbalance, toxic work enviorment, self-isolating behavior, suicidal ideation

Wyll ... well from the looks of it he is the most well adjusted of all the companions (my opinion) but he has something that i'd describe as the "eldest daughter"-syndrome, more commonly known as parentification. This pattern usually occurs within single-household parents and is commonly described as a parent looking to their child for emotional or practical support, rather than providing it to their kid. We meet Ulder and see that he talks over Wyll a lot, not listening but expecting him to follow the standard he sets for him. That is also why Wyll repeats his fathers words like gospel (because this is what, in his mind, fullfills the expectations bestowed upon him) and why he loves fairytales / bard tales so much (because they are an ecapist view of the job he set out to do) Ulder literally exiled his teenage son because Wyll did the only thing he could to save an entire city, by sacrificing himself. Thats a lot to expect from a 17 year old - even more so, he doesn't stop with the heroics. He expects himself, as a human who hasn't even reached the age of 30 to hold up to mystical creatures such as Astarion or Karlach, or even Gale who is a accomplished Wizard. Themes of parentification, escapism, self-harming through putting himself in danger, chronic-self-sacrifice

In plain words; Gortash, Karlach's Idol sold her to a Devil. But add to that that she must have been pretty young when she was sold (late teens to early twenties possibly) and being that if you play as a Tiefling, you face a lot of predjudice she was likely forced into that position as well. Starstruck she was, with a juvenile naitivy that Gortash used. Appropriately, as he is the chosen of Bane the god of "tyrannical oppression, terror, and hate, known across Faerûn as the face of pure evil through malevolent despotism" (Source: Forgotten-Realms Wiki / Bane) So she pretty much was raised in a toxic enviorment, which forced her to become a killing-machine, first figuretively, then with the extraction of her heart, literally. Themes of slavery, oppression, misuse of trust, being taken advantage by a more powerful/older(?) person, being drafted.

Jaheira - to be honest, you need to know the lore of the previous baldurs gate games or just listen to her dialouge, ask her all the questions. She is a war-veteran against Bhaal, the good of ritual murder, and has a long history of fighting to achieve some sort of balance of power. She lost her husband and several close people all to this, or any other war, but due to her wisdom and strength people look to her for guidance. Themes of: Survivors Guilt.

Halsin - he is really closed off at first but then just casually hits you with "i was captured in the underdark and spent 3 years chained to a bedroom wall by a pair of drows who used me as they pleased". He is reprimanded by some of his druids for leaving the grove as soon as opportunity struck, just to get back and leave the next day, and if you talk to him about his position in the grove he is actually very forthcomming. He actively holds himself back; indulging in simple hobbies because he knows what lies within his heart. He is afraid of himself and his potential (canonnically he can't control his wildshape, which is very weird for an ARCH-druid) Themes of: impostor syndrome, avoidant-based self-harm, sexual opression, loss of control, emotional regulation.

Lae'zel is a very tragic case, and one that closely resembles the stories of Shadowheart and Karlach. Her entire existence is based upon a matriachial war society allowing her to live if she proves she can be of use and that in a culture which only values brutality, dominance & service. All of that culimating in her finding out that her oh-so-beloved Queen is actually just an imposter, and that everything she has lived for up to that point is merely political propaganda created to make her, and the rest of her entire species, willing pawns in a war that has no longer bearing on their survival alone, but is fought to justify Vlaakith's (the reigning monarchs) personal ambitions. Not only is she forced to reconcile that she is turned into the thing that controlled her kind for hundreds of years, that the only cure she knows of would kill her and then on top of that, that her hopes and dreams were lies and that she is now the Nr 1 enemy of the person she has served with all her being. themes of: oppression, propaganda, casual violence, objectification, child-warfare, eternal warfare

Minthara in short, her story is about being shamed for growing up in the same scenario that Lae'zel grew up in. Lolth, the god of the Lolth-sworn drows is a crazy queen who values scheming & backstabbing so much and is so volatile that you can't know what to expect of your deeds (and i mean it; there were people who were appraised by her for scheming against her, but also those who were killed. It's almost random.) She considers Lolth to be cruel and abandoned her for the Absolute, only to then be used and abused the same way Lae'zel has. Not with promises, but erasing her memory and exposing her perceived weakness. Themes of: casual violence, violent culture, her own ambition colliding with her desire to be safe, being a pawn in a larger game.

#baldurs gate #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #non-witchy #baldurs gate iii #baldurs gate character #background to baldurs gate 3 #character analysis #analysis #fan theory #media analysis #astarion #wyll #karlach #minthara #halsin #jaheira #lae'zel #gale #minsc will have to wait #im sorry its so long #yeah some characters are a bit more shallow #i will go in depth sometime #dark urge has a grip on me i swear #please do yourself a favor and look up the earlier 2 games

[lostinforestbound]

Did you have a request? It's NSFW headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, and Halsin react to their gender neutral s/o asking if they can worship his body & kiss everywhere. Thanks!

I can try! Per my guidelines, I don't write for Astarion, but I can do everyone else! I'm not as familiar writing these characters, so I hope these turned out all right!

Gale, Wyll, and Halsin Body Worship

NSFW Under Cut, Minors DNI

Gale

Gale loves giving more than anything. He cooks, he cleans, he gives love, literally everything he can for his love.

This especially happens during intercourse, and you better believe there's body worship sprinkled in there.

But being at the receiving end of it? He's so focused on his lover he never gave it much thought.

He's always willing to try something new! How could he ever say no to them, when they look so excited?

He's experienced. Of course he is! His former lover was Mystra, after all.

But when they get started, kissing his neck and down his chest where the orb lays, he feels like it's the first time again.

Personal headcannon: Gale is soft! He has plush thighs and stomach, so there's so much skin to kiss!

His breath hitches any time his partner playfully nips at the more sensitive areas; his chest, neck, and the inside of his thighs.

They have never seen his face so flushed like this, and so riled up on top of it!

In the end, they'll have some mercy and give him the best oral he's every received. He doesn't last long.

Wyll

Wyll is definitely more traditional when it comes to romance, but it also applies to intimacy.

When his partner mentions wanting to switch things up in the bedroom, he's a little surprised but pretty open to it. He just doesn't want to do anything extreme.

Body worship? He was already doing it subconsciously, always having something to say about how his love looks.

He gets pretty damn flustered when he suddenly becomes the receiving end of the worship.

Over time, I think he becomes comfortable with his infernal traits, and it definitely helps when his lover is worshiping them.

Whether it's them stabilizing themselves or just wanting something to hold, grabbing his horns is definitely a way to get him going!

The best position, or at least the one he most enjoys while his lover appreciates his body, is riding him.

He wants to watch them always, even when he goes weak for their gentle touches and kisses to the scars on his face.

He has a hard time letting them do all the work. He wants to worship them right back, but he'll listen if they tell him to sit back.

While he enjoys it a lot, next time, he wants it to be his turn.

Halsin

Halsin is older, and based off of his stories, he's been around the block when it comes to his exploits!

Body worship is nothing new to him, and he's happy to let his significant other take over and do what they'd like.

He'll lean into their touch, letting their hands run over the expanse of his chest and neck.

Touching and rubbing his ears would make him sigh in content, but pinching the tips of them makes him groan.

Halsin doesn't get too flustered as he's pretty experienced, but he definitely lets his love know what he likes by being noisy.

Is he trying to embarrass them a little? He'll never tell, but he does love to tease.

As his lover runs their hands all over his body, they can hear plenty of pleased sighs as they kiss. This isn't something he indulges in too often.

He ends up taking control right back in his excitement, biting their lower lip in the process.

Thank the gods they aren't anywhere near camp, the others would hear them all night long.

#forest-writes #gale x tav #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #wyll x tav #halsin #bg3 halsin #halsin x tav #gale x reader #halsin x reader #wyll x reader

[avelera]

The thing is, I’m just so fascinated by the fact that of all the naturally “Good” aligned companions, Gale is the only one who you can convince to stick with you if you attack the Grove in BG3.

Wyll leaves immediately if you do. Karlach sticks around long enough to chew you out before taking off. Halsin obviously never joins you.

But Gale can be persuaded. All while hating himself the whole time. Horrified by what happened and what he’s taken part in. But you can point out that if he makes a principled stand and abandons the party over the murder of innocents, he will certainly die. And if you do, and succeed and persuading him, he relents. He gives in. He goes along with you.

It’s just soooo deeply fucked up that I’m still chewing over it.

By the end of my Evil Durge run, I had Gale at 100% approval. Giving Aylin to Larroakan only got -1, easily made up later. Letting Astarion Ascend was only a -1. Gale didn’t leave after the Durge became Bhaal’s Chosen, just voiced his disapproval and continued on working alongside us.

All you have to do to keep him in line is remind him again that he’s so right, so valid for wanting the Crown of Karsus. He doesn’t have make up excuses that it’s for the greater good, not you, no. If you say he’s just allowed to want it, to have it, just because it’s power, he’s so relieved to have someone finally be sensible and see things the same way he does! Gale eats out of the palm of your hand if you just encourage his worst instincts and tell him he doesn’t have to feel bad about his ambition. Or his resentment of Mystra. Or his conviction that he could do better if he took her place.

Based on all that, I have to headcanon that Gale had convinced himself that he could fix it all after, as soon as he got the Crown and ascended to become the new god of magic. Every evil is justified if it gets him to that goal. He’ll be good later. He can fix things later. But he can only fix things if he gets that power. It’s all permitted, every evil, every slaughter, if he can just reach the end goal and then he can undo it all.

Which is why I so badly want a fic where Durge or Tav take the power for themselves, enslave the world, including Gale, and then Gale… wakes up. Because wizards have a lot of natural defenses against mind control. They can regain their autonomy, like Omeleum did.

I guess I just want a fic of Gale grappling with his own moral flexibility. Wyll and Karlach had the moral strength to call out bullshit when they saw it and bounce the heck out of there.

But Gale, brilliant, promising, intelligent, good Gale didn’t. His ambition allowed him to be easily led by the nose. His will to live led him by the nose. He didn’t have the moral strength to take a stand. It’s dark and depressing, yeah, but damn do I want an angst fic where Gale after an evil run looks back and grapples with everything he allowed to happen, all in the name of becoming a god, only to be left with nothing.

#bg3 #bg3 spoilers #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep

[maithefluffychicken]

I love that BG3 is about... rediscovering who you are when you finaly meet the right people. And to heal PTSD, and fuck, that hits right in the feels.

Astarion knew all the time that he was a slave and he was unable to run away from Cazador, and he opens to Tav with time and once Tav shows him that Astarion can indeed trust them. Astarion's goal for 200 years was just to survive. To survive! That's like, PTSD 101.

I could spend years talking about Astarion, but let me move on for now.

Let me talk about how sweet it is when Lae'zel decides to follow you against her people in the creche githyanki. Because Lae'zel was convinced her people will help her, she was convinced she could trust her people. She never thought herself as a Vlaakith's slave or pawn (unlike Astarion, who always knew Cazador was a monster).

The moment when you tell her "these giths want you dead, Lae'zel, can't you see it?" And her heart breaks in acceptation. When she says "Your path is mine to follow", I just want to hug her, because she has to accept that she has to betray her own beliefs about Vlaakith and the giths. She has to give up her goals to ride her own dragon, to be Vlaakith's right hand.

Something quite similar happens to Shadowheart. Our fave cleric has to reject her own beliefs once she realizes that everything was a lie.

Karlach is more like Astarion, she knew she had to find a way to leave Zariel behind, she knew that she was a slave.

Gale and Wyll were, to me, in denial and delusion, about Mystra and Mizora. I think they both knew, deep down. They knew that they were doing wrong, or that they were deceived (in Wyll's case).

And then the tadpole thing happens and they meet Tav or, well, they meet each other and they have to put aside their wrong beliefs because life.

I just think it's beautiful that they can actually choose, and that they're not alone. And that they have a new family to rely on when they have to mourn and grief. That they all are their own support group.

I love that bg3 is about found family, about deciding again, about recovering after your own traumatic event.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #lae'zel #astarion #karlach #gale #wyll #shadowheart #PTSD #ptsd recovery #bg3 spoilers #fluffy chicken plays bg3

[dekariosmagic]

Safe and Sound- Gale x Tav/Reader

Paring: Gale Dekarios x Tav/Reader (Referred to as Tav)

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Word Count: 1,515

Description: Gale seemed to take the news from Elinster fairly well, or so it appeared.

Other Things: Fluff. Hurt comfort. Uses lyrics from the song "Safe and Sound" by Taylor Swift. Pre-relationship (but they're basically there).

Warnings: Panic attack. References to potential story canon suicide.

Elminster’s news had been a bombshell in and of itself on the party. Gale had seemingly taken the news in stride, perhaps the best in the camp. 

Gale made dinner as usual, while everyone avoided the singular topic on all their minds. Tav assumed no one knew how to bring up the topic to the man himself. 

It wasn’t until Gale finished his own portion and took off to his tent for an early night, did the rumbling start. 

Tav did her usual rounds, trying to ignore the feeling of a rock settled in her chest. And with each companion she talked to with their collective rage and disgust toward the situation and goddess of magic, it just seemed to get heavier. 

It felt good to know the rest of them were all on the same page. That they’d rather fight the goddess herself than willingly give up their wizard. 

Hells Tav was ready to take the goddess on herself, as foolish as the task would be. The fact Mystra felt she could demand that of him. The ultimate sacrifice to end a threat to her power, and get rid of a loose end in one go. She’d not spoken to him since the orb incident, and this was how she broke the silence?

Her heart hurt for Gale and herself. The entire situation couldn’t be easy, not nearly as easy as he made it sound as he accepted the mission from Elminster at least. Hearing from an ex of a relationship that ended so badly would be tricky, make her his goddess of magic and it was far more complicated.

And her own feelings complicated it. She wanted to grab him by his shoulders and scream. Tell him to defy Mystra, to think, to not accept this outrageous thing he’s been asked to do. To spurn Mystra’s words and stay here, with her, in this… whatever they were building. 

She’d become far too attached to him already. But everyday at his side just added to the growing list of things she adored about him. The one bright spot in a bleak road ahead. 

Walking to the front of Gale’s tent, Tav freezes as she contemplates calling out to him. Whether she should try to talk tonight, or leave it for later after he’s had more time to think. Or just let him stick to his own resolve entirely…

Her thoughts are cut short at the sound of a broken sob on the other side of the fabric. 

Without a thought, she slips into the tent and throws her arms around his midsection from behind. His body tenses in surprise, but it does little to interrupt the next sob from his lips. 

She squeezes him tighter as his body shakes, using one hand on his front to rub slow circles on his stomach as she rests her head on his back.

“Y-you don’t h-have-“ Gale begins before slapping a hand over his mouth trying to stifle the next sob, sucking air in desperately around it. 

“Gale, I’ve got you. It’s ok to let it out. I’m staying right here, I promise.” 

She feels him nod more than sees it. She sways them slightly as he shakes, taking a moment to spin herself around his body and hold him more tightly from the front. 

His arms quickly wrap around her, his face pressing to her hair. 

Her fingers rub gently into his back as she softly starts to hum a melody, his tears running down onto her as he tries to mumble an apology.

She holds him for what felt like hours, lost in their own moment. His shaking lessens, and the sobs dwindled to small hiccups over time. 

Turning her head to glance around the room, she spots his bedroll a few steps away. 

“Let’s lay down,” she says softly, backing them toward the bedroll and carefully tugging him along with her. 

She drops down to her knees when she reaches it, grabbing his hands to tug him down to the bedding with her. Adjusting his pillows around and finding a blanket, she lies on her back and holds her arms out to him. 

He studies her for a moment before laying down and snuggling into her, his head resting on her shoulder as she pulls the blanket up around them. 

Her fingers slowly card through his hair as he buries his face against her neck, a shuddered breath leaving his lips as his hand grips at her shirt fabric on her stomach. 

She resumes her humming after they settled in, his face turning from her neck to glance up at her. 

“What are you humming?” He asks quietly, his voice raspy and unsure. 

“I remember tears streaming down your face when I said I'll never let you go. When all those shadows almost killed your light, I remember you said don't leave me here alone,” she sings softly to the melody she’d been humming. 

“Don't you dare look out your window, darling, everything's on fire. The war outside our door keeps raging on. Hold onto this lullaby even when the music's gone, gone.

“Just close your eyes, the sun is going down. You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now. Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound,” she finishes singing, rubbing a hand along his arm. 

“My mother would sing it to me at night when I was upset,” she finally answers. “When times are hard now I hum it to myself. Quite often lately if I’m to be honest.” 

“It’s beautiful,” he responds, his eyes reddened and puffy, but looking at her with adoration. “You’re beautiful. And I’m undeserving of your company.” 

“Oh hush,” she says and presses a soft kiss to his forehead. “You’re deserving of far more than you believe. You deserve to be happy, you deserve to have people care about you, and you deserve to live.”

“I… I don’t want to die,” he whispers after a moment. 

“Good, hold onto that,” she says squeezing him closer to her. “I will find another way. We will. There’s always another way. I’m not going to give up on you. You’re enough as you are Gale.”

His face presses back up against the juncture between her shoulder and neck, a shaky exhale on her neck, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” she whispers just loud enough for him to hear as she feels him smile against her skin. 

“Would you stay here with me tonight? Only if you’re comfortable with it,” he asks quickly, keeping his face hidden from her. 

“Of course, I’m always up for a cuddle with my favorite wizard,” her fingers go back to playing with his hair.

“If you only know one wizard, I’m both your favorite and least favorite,” he jokes with a dry chuckle. 

“I’ve met a few, but you make a good point. I’m always up for a cuddle with my favorite person,” she amends. 

His hand drifts from her stomach to her side, holding her closer to him, “If you continue this I might believe you and you’ll be stuck with me, then you’ll be sorry for throwing those words around.”

“Is that a promise?” She grins and lays her head against his. 

“Promise?”

“If I keep saying you’re my favorite and that I care about you, I’ll be stuck with you? Because I can easily keep repeating the truth each day.” 

“I-I don’t know what… I mean, I still have that order and I might, but maybe,” he stumbles over his words, his brow scrunching in thought.

“You don’t have to think about it right now,” her hand lightly grips his chin to turn his head so she can see his face and presses her finger between his brows. “No decisions, sacrifices, or answers are needed right now.”

He blinks rapidly in response, tears building in the corners of his eyes again as he searches her face then nods, lolling his head back against her shoulder.

Tav lets her fingers drift down his cheek, then follows along his jaw slowly, enjoying the prickle of his beard on her skin.

He stretches some in her embrace, leaning into her touch, his eyelids drooping.

“Go to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake,” she promises as she feels sleep starting to come to her as well. 

“A wondrous sight to awake to I’m sure,” he smile softly, his eyes drifting shut. 

Tav continues to stroke along his cheek and jaw until his breathing evens and his nose twitches in his sleep when her hand accidentally brushes against it. 

Holding back her chuckle, she wraps her arm back around Gale and snuggles her face against his hair, letting her own eyes drift shut. 

She sends out a quick prayer, to any god that may listen, that she find a way to get them all through this. Her new little odd family would all make it through this intact, or she herself would die trying. His goddess may have given up on him, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to. 

--------

My Main Account: @lykaonimagines AO3 User: Lykao (Marvel, Sherlock, Cyberpunk 2077, and other video game fics)

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #baldurs gate gale #gale x tav #gale bg3 #gale dekarios x tav #gale dekarios x reader #gale x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate #fanfic

[lovelybrooke]

Is romantic request OK for bg3? If its is:

When does the companion realise they love Reader ?

Like, what does reader do that make them say to themself "Ah. I love them" ?

So a while a go I talked about the order in which the characters would fall in love with reader, so that is what I'm basing this off of. I really wanted to actually write something so I hope you enjoy it.

Don't judge how I describe magic, okay? it's confusing.

masterlist

---

Gale:

Gale is a romantic at heart, reading romance books, imagining a idyllic life with a lover. When he was younger, he believed his lover would be Mystra, living with the goddess that he dedicated his life to. But now, he finds his wishes to be more complicated. Now you're here, and he finds himself imagining what life would look like if you never leave.

"Gale, what does this one do?" You point to one of his many scrolls.

"It's a simple illumination spell" He responded. "There are much more interesting spells in this pile over here." He pointed to another pile of scrolls, this one inside his tent. You look apprehensive, like you don't want to invade him space. Your care, your kindness, was something new to him. "Go on, take a look, I don't mind." He smiled, watching as you entered his tent and dig through his scrolls, taking great care to not damage them as you explore them.

Your eyes sparkled as you read through each spell, asking question after question about each one. It was times like this that reminded him you were not of this world, so fascinated by things that were so common to others. Every gasp of interest filled his heart with pride, made his mind run with a strange sense of affection. Affection he never felt for another, not even Mystra.

"Wow Gale, these are all so amazing!" As you speak, he's broken out of his thoughts, and he realizes that he is completely and utterly in love with you. Maybe it's a little vain or maybe he's been reading too much, but he craves to hear you praise him more. He wants to hear the sweat sound of your approval be directed towards him, for it to never end.

For once, love and fear don't mix for Gale. He doesn't fear falling in love with you or wanting to devote himself to you. His mind drifts back to Mystra, and he knows it's different. His isn't a boy, someone who can easily be manipulated. He's a man, and he knows what he wants.

And he knows he wants you.

Wyll:

Wyll is valiant, heroic, the exact image of a gentleman. He dedicates his life to protecting the weak, and with you there is no difference.

He doesn't want to call you weak, he knows your inexperience comes from something deeper, but he can't help but pity you whenever your situation. Their fearsome leader, someone from another world, scared and confused, but brave nonetheless. It's admirable honesty, but somedays the world is too cruel, and it agonizing watching you traverse a world that has no care for you.

Like now, as enemies swarm your group, snarling and growling in your direction. You look terrified, but you're hiding it well. But as one of the creatures lunges for your throat, he waits no longer before piercing it through its gut. It twitches and growls before collapsing to the ground. You do similarly, moving towards Wyll and rushing towards his arms. He holds you, feeling your heart beat wildly against him. Your other companions deal with the looting as you quickly compose yourself.

"I'm sorry." You stumble out. "I-i just--"

"No need to apologize." Protectiveness swelled in his chest as he tried so hard to ignore the warmth he once felt when he held you. It was so different than anything else he's felt before. It was comforting, addicting even. He craved it more and more as you backed away from him. He could tell you were disturbed, you've never seen him like this before, but his protectiveness overruled any sense of composure he once had.

"Thank you for protecting me Wyll." You whisper, loud enough for him to hear. In an instant, it was like a weight was lifted from his chest, and he could breathe again. You were safe, he has kept you safe. The warmth, it was spreading through him once more, inviting and so very captivating, just like yourself.

In that moment, Wyll sweared to keep you safe, to protect the warmth that he's come to enjoy. He swears to become your protector, no matter how strong you become, you'll always be his top priority, his captivating love.

Halsin

Your dedication to helping this land is something Halsin finds fascinating. It seems second nature to you, never questioning when someone needs help. It honestly worries Halsin, how easy you can be manipulated by others. Halsin finds himself being worried by you often, like now, as he tends to a gash on your arm, a large wound oozing blood onto the floor of his tent. There is only so much Halsin's healing can do, the bandages on your arm becoming a lass resort from any more serious injuries.

"You must be more careful." He warns you, taking great care to wrap your arm gently, not wanting to inflict more pain onto you. "I do not like seeing you in pain." You seem surprised by his declaration, your eyes widening a fraction. He almost revels in your shock, if it weren't for his concern over your injury.

"You don't have to worry about me." You say once he's finished wrapping your arm. "I am your leader." That was another thing Halsin found fascinating, your bravery. Your sheer determination even while everything else was against you. But he also found it terrifying, seeing you get hurt or put yourself in danger nearly sent his heart into an attack, he just wished you would listen to him.

But he guesses that's what makes you so lovable, your kindness, your bravery, your stubbornness. He wouldn't have you any other way, even if you do fill him with dread from time to time. "Please just--be more careful, for me." He requests, gazing at your wound. Blood has seeped through the cloth already.

You smile "I'll try." Your tone had a light air to it, and Halsin couldn't help but smile.

You were going to be the death of him.

Shadowheart

Shadowheart never understood her peers, but truthfully, her peers never understood her.

She watches with a small scowl as you converse with Wyll, a bright smile on both of your faces, but yours is somehow the only one she can focus on. It angers her--maybe angers isn't the right word, it confuses her. She doesn't understand her companions behavior, you're some random human, gone mad by the parasite. Their adoration, it was strange.

Sometimes, she feels like the only normal person in camp. With Gale clinging onto you like a child, Wyll's near obsession with protecting you, and Halsin's worry over your every move, Shadowheart is to believe that nearly everyone has gone mad. But as she hears you laugh at something Wyll said, and as Wyll somehow moves even closer to you, she starts to believe she's gone mad as well. That same anger burns in her chest and her cheeks glow with embarrassment.

You're so strangely alluring, keeping them entranced to the point of obsession. It's almost maddening how you don't seem to know how taken they all are with you, having them each wrapped around your finger. Shadowheart wants to believe this is all a persona, a ploy to use them for your own gain. But she knows better than to believe something like that, you're not the type to manipulate and lie to people.

She wants to believe that the fire that burns inside her is anger. Anger at you using them, trapping them within your grasps to achieved some strange power beyond their understanding. But in reality, the only thing that burns inside her is jealousy. Jealousy at the others for getting to you first, for taking your time and keeping you close to them at all times.

She'd never admit this out loud however, not wanting anyone to know what you do to her. You are a weakness, she can't have those. But as you call her over to the fire, and as Wyll represses a frown, she finds herself allowing room for weakness, at least for a small while.

Karlach

"Would you like a hug, Karlach?" She would like nothing more, but a part of her is afraid. She trust Dammon and his expertises, but she never wants to hurt you. But as you open up your arms towards her, smiling so brightly, she can't help but wrap you up so tightly, and like expected, you don't burn.

You are everything she's expected and more. You are soft and inviting, and she finds herself not wanting to let you go. You're so warm, but in a way that was unfamiliar to her. It wasn't like the flames of Avernus, hot and overwhelming. It wasn't like the fire burning in her heart. It was like a hearty fireplace on a cold winter day, comforting and familiar, and she found herself missing it as you pull away from her.

"Thank you, Solider." Her voice was sincere. You nod, smiling at her, causing her to smile even more.

Later that night, should couldn't help but think of your warmth, and found herself missing it. It surprised her, how much she wanted to be close to you, how much she wanted to hold your hand, keep you close, and never let go. It worried her, how overwhelming these feelings were, but unlike the fire that once burned in her or her infernal engine, it was something she strangely enjoyed. It reminded her of you, almost like you were forever with her.

As she tries to fall asleep, she finds herself thinking of you, of your hug and your smile, and how she would do anything to feel it again, to never loose you. She knows this won't last forever, Dammon told her as much. Eventually, the heat of her engine will catch up to her and she'll have to make a difficult choice.

But that's something she can think about later, all she wants to do right now is think of you.

Astarion

Astarion thought he was better than his companions. He wasn't going to fall for your act so easily, he's seen it all before. Act helpless in need of saving, have someone to naive and guidable sweep in, and then stab them in the back. He was sure that was what you were up too, but after keeping your act up for weeks, it seemed as though you were playing the long game.

Astarion didn't mind, nor did he judge, he just--wished you weren't so good at it. He wished he didn't fold nearly as fast when you ask him to stitch up your clothing, hiding his blush as you praise him for his work. He wished he didn't seethe with envy whenever you were with another, burning as they hold onto you tighter and tighter. And by gods, he wished he didn't find himself wanting you so damn much.

Astarion pricks his finger as his mind wanters, a small sting spreading through the appendage. A slight hiss leaves his lips before he puts down the shirt his hands, your shirt. It's almost pathetic how much care he puts into repairing your clothing, almost making him laugh. The tear was a small one, there shouldn't be a reason he's keeping it this long, but he finds himself caring a lot about your things, your clothes, your hair, you in general. He hates it, but he can't deny it.

Eventually, he picks the shirt back up, examining it. The old tear, barely noticeable, weights heavily on Astarion's undead heart. Would you notice it? Would you be upset that he failed to do his job correctly? He knows it's stupid to think this way, to care so much about what you think, but he can't help it. You're alluring, captivating even, and it scares him.

It scares him how easily you captivate people. It scares him how easily you captivated him. But most of all, the knowledge of what each of them would do for you scares him the most.

Astarion knows that he's no better than anyone else in your strange group, he's just as swayed by your kindness and compassion as any of them. He's just too scared to admit it.

Lae'Zel

Lae'Zel doesn't like you.

You disturb her, with your strange mutterings and stupidity that has to be due to the parasite. You never seem to know what's going on, and if was in her nature, she would pity you. But of course, she doesn't. She has no reason to feel bad for you, not when everything is at stake, not when any of you could die at any time. But traveling with you has been--eventful to say the least. Her allies seem to see something in you, not that she cares much. You're weak, helpless, insane, and nothing will change that.

Lae'Zel has been taught her entire life that the only thing that matters is keeping herself strong. Surrounding herself with lesser people, weak people, is a distraction to avoid at all cost. But she doesn't have the option now, you are her only option, and she will have to work with what's she's got.

So she protects you, she keeps you safe, and she keeps you alive. She needs you, as little as she wants to admit it. You are important to her cause, nothing else matters. She couldn't care less what you think of her, as long as her parasite is destroyed and her people are saved, that's all that matters.

But she can't deny the surprise she feels when you agree to help her people, when you defend her from the others blatant disrespect, something you claim to be "teasing". She can't help but appreciate it when you, someone so much weaker than her, protect her in battle. It shocking, even more so that she doesn't hate it. She doesn't hate the affection from someone so weak, she doesn't hate it when you rely on her, or when you seek her out.

She doesn't know what she feels exactly, but she knows for a fact that she does not like you.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #yandere baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldurs gate x reader #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #yandere bg3 #bg3 #bg3 x reader

[whaledenwtf]

I'm such a sucker for Gale, and I want some fluff about him, maybe like what happened after or during the wedding, what would it look like? Like what would our man do

I'm such a sucker for Gale too, he's just baby. I'm not too familiar with Act 3 and the new epilogues they added but I'll do my baby justice. I'll be writing this with a female reader, so if you'd like GN! Reader I can try rewriting it.

As always, I try to keep Gale in character as much as possible. If you enjoy this fic, consider sharing it! I have requests open, which you can send here: Link I have a Masterlist for Baldur's Gate 3 works I've written, which also has a list of what I will and won't write here: Link

Gale x AFAB!Reader - Wedding Bells

Warnings: AFAB!Reader, Fluff, Mentions of Anxiety, Self-Deprecation (Poor Gale), Mentions of Mystra (Mystra when I catch you Mystra), Minor Angst if you squint.

WORD COUNT: 869

Gods he was so nervous. He kept pacing back and forth, subconsciously playing with his hands.

"Are you having regrets Mr. Dekarios?" He is snapped out of his reverie by Tara, who's watching him from a distance.

"Regrets? I could never regret my relationship with (Y/N), Tara. I am just... nervous. I don't want her to change her mind, is all." He tells her honestly. Tara struts closer to him, tail swaying behind her.

"I believe you are overthinking, Mr. Dekarios. After all, don't you think she would have changed her mind before the wedding day?" He ponders that for a moment.

"I suppose you may be right, Tara. However, I've come to realize there is no such luck for a fool like me. She may have changed her mind and is running out now-" To emphasize his point, he looks out the window to see if there is a runaway bride. He exhales in relief when he doesn't see you running off. Tara scoffs.

"Are you sure you won't be the one who runs out? Show some self-respect Mr. Dekarios. You are incredibly talented and a good friend. She loves you, in case you had forgotten." Tara sits, her wings twitching.

He looks away from the window, only seeing the wedding party seated in the rows and rows of seats, alongside your companions who were interacting with one another. The door opens, and Gale's mother walks in.

"Oh thank Mystra! My little boy is getting married- I was starting to get worried." Morena wails out, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Gale rolls his eyes.

"Have you so little faith in me, mother?" She huffs, squinting at him.

"You were a recluse, Gale. A mother tends to worry when her son is aging without another by their side. I just want you happy." She tells him. He looks down, feeling guilty for worrying his mother.

"I am sorry-" Morena shakes her head.

"All is in the past now-" She claps her hands. She walks closer, giving him a once over, brushing non-existent dust off his shoulders. "I am very proud of you." She tells him quietly. He grips her in a tight hug, like a child would when they were scared. She caresses his back comfortingly, and he is filled with a sense of calmness. All his previous fears and anxieties dissipate. The door opens again. Morena lets go of Gale, giving him some space.

"Just coming in to check in. Am I disturbing something?" Gale hears your voice. Before he can take a glimpse at you, he turns around, eyes screwed shut.

"It is bad luck to see the bride before the aisle!" He shouts out. All the women giggle at him. You begin walking forward, smiling at Morena and Tara.

"We will leave you two alone. Come, Tara." They leave, closing the door behind them.

"Turn around, sweetheart. Who needs luck or gods, when we have each other?" You tell him, standing behind him. He sighs, turning around, eyes still screwed shut. You chuckle, taking his face in your hand.

"Open your eyes, Gale." He opens one eye, and his jaw drops. You were stunning; probably the most beautiful thing he has ever laid his eyes upon.

"Oh-" He opens both eyes, to look you up and down, multiple times.

"You're beautiful." He whispers, eyes watering. It never felt so real until this moment, seeing you devote yourself to him. You wipe the single tear that leaves his misty eyes. He blinks multiple times, willing himself not to cry.

"You don't look too bad yourself." You tease him, grinning.

"I wanted to check on you, see if you had changed your mind?" He looks into your eyes, seeing your honesty.

"Why would I change my mind?" You shrug.

"We don't need fancy ceremonies or gold rings to show our love to one another. All I need is you by my side." He takes your hand, kissing it.

"I can never regret anything I do if it involves you, my love." You giggle at his words.

"How are you feeling?" You ask him sweetly. He bites his lip.

"I am- was very nervous. For a moment I thought you would want to cancel the wedding." You shake your head.

"I love you, Gale. I'm not going anywhere. The tadpole couldn't keep us apart; nor the Netherese Orb; and definitely not some goddess." You end the sentence bitterly. He chuckles, putting his arms around you, kissing your forehead.

"We can do this, together." He says out loud.

"Together." You whisper, leaning into his neck and kissing him there.

BONUS: You close the door behind you, leaving Gale to his thoughts. You turn to see Astarion and Wyll waiting for you. You jump, holding a hand to your heart as they scared you.

"Gods! Don't sneak up on me like that." They both chuckle.

"Did he cry?" Astarion asks excitedly. You chuckle, nodding.

"HA! Pay up Ravengard." Wyll sighs, handing over a pouch of gold to Astarion.

"I knew that sap would cry. Shouldn't have bet against me." Wyll rolls his eye.

"Alright Astarion." Wyll tells him. You smile at the two, before pulling them away from the door.

#fanfic #fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #gale x reader #baldurs gate gale #gale bg3 #fluff #request

[galedekarios]

Are you the one who made the post about how in the epilogue Gale has lines mentioning he has been learning skills from Tavs class?

no, but i can help you if you're looking for what gale and the protag both say.

this dialogue path only triggers if you chose to leave waterdeep behind and went on to adventure with gale after the game ends:

Gale: I confess, when I left Waterdeep there was a part of me afraid that I might regret my decision. But I never have. Gale: I'm delighted to be here amongst friends again, but part of me is reluctant to step away from our new life - even for such a gathering as this.

Player: You don't have to be here if you don't want to, Gale... Gale: Oh, ignore me - I'm perfectly content. Besides, the chance to step out for a night on your arm is hardly one I'm going to pass up. Tara the Tressym: I'm just glad I'm not the only one encouraging you to leave the library once in a while. It does one good to feel the grass beneath one's paws from time to time. Gale: I don't know where to begin in telling people what we've been up to. I suspect they won't believe me...

the player then has various options to pick from depending on their class, showcasing the skills that gale has been taught by them:

Player: Who knew you'd look so good swinging an axe..., BARBARIAN - Player: You've learned to harmonise wonderfully. Not quite solo material yet, but you're close., BARD - Player: Me neither. You've learned much about my faith, and a far more worthy god than Mystra..., CLERIC - Player: I wouldn't have believed it either. I'd no idea you had such a way with animals..., DRUID - Player: I wouldn't have believed it either. You, taking lessons in magic from me..., WIZARD, WARLOCK, SORCERER - Player: Their belief does not matter. You've studied my oath, learned the truth of its purpose - that's achievement enough., PALADIN - Player: That you've learned a trick or two from me? Steal the gold from their palms and they'll believe you soon enough., ROGUE - Player: Of course they'll believe you. Your arrows fly as true as your spells these days., RANGER - Player: Whether they believe does not matter. Our studies grant you an inner peace no external approval could offer., MONK - Player: They'll believe it the next time we get ourselves into a scrap. You wield a sword as well as half the fighters in Faerûn., FIGHTER - Player: Only Mystra herself need know the truth of your accomplishments. And under my guidance, you've served her well., CLERIC_MYSTRA

i do like gale's little response:

Gale: What can I say? You're an excellent teacher.

it's a sweet callback to his spell teaching / weave scene, where the player can tell him he's an excellent teacher after helping them channel the weave.

i do think this - in addition to the little tidbit you get in lae'zel's origin where it's revealed that gale learns tir'su for her - really highlights how truly and genuinely invested gale is in his partner and their relationship together.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #tav x gale #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 meta #ch: gale dekarios #otp: you give me hope #otp: a soul that steels my own #otp: celestial bodies #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3 #text: asks #also the cleric line is so raw i love it #'a far more worthy god than mystra' 🔥🔥🔥

[stars-and-inkpots]

could you possibly do one where Tav is on the verge on burnout in Baldur's Gate, from carrying the litteral weight of the world on her shoulders, plus the murders, dismembered clown, emperor chattering away in her mind and just tryingto help every soul in the city... oh, and everyone looking to her for guidance in making difficult life decisions... possibly after advising Wyll not to take the pact and/or one of their companions being abducted

And Gale being there to help her and lift her spirits up (maybe a little guilty about being too wrapped up in his hubris before having a forgiving audience with Mystra to notice how hard it all was on her)

I loved this idea so much because Act 3 really is just so overwhelming and stressful I was excited to write something about it! Thank you!! I hope you enjoy!

The Weight of The World | Gale x Reader

There is so much you have to do. So many things you have to fix and people you have to save. It's starting to become overwhelming carrying so much alone.

Pairing: Gale/Reader

Tags: Canon-typical violence, Blood and injury, panic attacks (kinda), hurt/comfort, comfort, angst, cuddling, spoilers for Act 3

Ao3 Link: The Weight of The World

Word Count: 1,799

You like helping people. If there is a way you can make someone else’s life easier, you are both eager and happy to do it. It’s in your nature to give. 

But you’re wearing yourself thin. 

It seems that ever since you got off that nautiloid, you’ve been helping people. First, it was the tieflings in the Grove; then the Shadow-Cursed lands; then the refugees on the way to Baldur’s Gate. And along with all of those problems, you’ve also been helping your companions with their own; some with higher stakes than others. 

Wyll is quiet today, and when you notice the look on his face, guilt quickly settles in beside the exhaustion that rests on your shoulders. 

He is free now, but it has come at such a steep price. You were there with him when Mizora appeared to offer him the deal. He had asked you for advice. You told him that he deserved a chance to be free from the infernal chess board he had been forced to play on for so long. 

But what if you were wrong? What if you don’t find a way to save his father? What if Baldur’s Gate is worse off without the duke once everything is done and over with and the dust has settled. What if Wyll ends up blaming you for the death of Ravengard, resenting your decision that was his own to make. 

You’re happy to help… happy to give counsel to your companions when they (so often, it seems) need it, but why should you be the one making the decisions for such things? How can you be expected to decide between Wyll’s freedom and his father’s life? 

You haven’t even begun to prepare for what could lie beyond the walls of Cazador’s palace, but you’re certain it can be nothing short of dreadful. 

Shaking your head, you try to focus on the task at hand. You have potential murder victims you need to find. 

More people that need saving. 

---

Finding the Stormshore Tabernacle after Elminster arrived to tell Gale that Mystra had yet another message for him was only another goal added on the growing list of things you needed to do. This, of course, took a little priority, given how much you could tell it mattered to Gale. 

You brush off the growing exhaustion that hasn’t had a chance to fully dissipate in the wake of so many new problems. 

You stand in front of the statue of Mystra, Gale beside you while the others wait outside. You can feel the magic that flows around it, crackling and humming like an electric current. It is not a feeling that brings you comfort or a sense of calm that one might expect from a god; perhaps that is mainly because of your own opinions of the goddess though. While he does a good job at hiding it, you can tell that Gale’s nerves are beginning to get the better of him. You bring your hand to rest it on his shoulder. 

“Time was I’d have given my right arm for a chance to speak with Mystra again. The left one too. Maybe a knee…” he says quietly, and as much as you want to believe he is exaggerating, you know there is an air of truth to his words. 

“You know you don’t owe her anything, Gale.” You hope he knows that. It’s impossible for you to understand the nuances of their relationship, and you recognise that, but you know that what she had asked of him was cruel and manipulative. 

“Perhaps,” he answers. Then adds, “Her first love was always the weave. At best, I was always a close second.” 

You can’t tell if he’s trying to justify Her actions to you, or simply giving himself a reason for them that hurts less than the idea that she did not truly care for him like he did for Her. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” Despite your personal distaste for the goddess, you would accompany him in an instant if it was what he desired.

“As much as I’d prefer not to face her alone, I’m afraid the magic is only able to bring one person through. I’ll only be gone a minute though. Wait for me, please.” His voice shakes only slightly. You would wait for him even if he didn’t ask. 

When he turns to face the statue again, he moves his hand like he’s grasping at something in the air. Then just as quickly, he is gone. 

You wait there anxiously. You wonder if you should have told him not to come here. It was entirely possible that Mystra only asked him to come here so that she could punish him for not following her orders to blow up both himself and the Absolute. It would be another lapse of judgement that would impact only your companion. 

The stress of the week is steadily catching up to you again, pushing itself into the forefront of your mind while you wait for Gale to return. Thankfully, he doesn’t take long. 

Gale reappears in a small flash of shimmering purples. He is smiling, which you assume is a good thing in spite of the general unease the thought of him speaking with the goddess brings. 

He recounts the visit with you while the two of you find the rest of your party outside. 

---

No one says anything when you go straight to your tent after you return to camp, Gale letting go of your hand to give you a moment to yourself. 

Lae’zel is gone, taken by Orin, and being held ransom in the Temple of Bhaal. The memory of the encounter makes you sick to your stomach. 

Lae’zel rounding the corner, bloodied and limping, clutching her side while blood pours out in thick rivulets. Your heart beating so fast that you worry it will stop entirely. Grasping her arm to pull her with you, refusing to leave her behind. The feeling of her flesh shifting under your palm, moving, undulating in that unnatural and revolting way you had come to recognize in the shapechangers you had encountered. You recoiled backwards into Gale, watching in horror as Lae’zel’s form shifted; her neck snapping to the side sharply. Her green skin fading to pale grey. It was never Lae’zel at all, but Orin. 

She cornered you into making a deal with her. You were to return with Gortash’s netherstone, or Lae’zel would be left to bleed out on the temple floor. 

You can imagine Lae’zel’s voice, condemning you for giving in to the Bhaalspawn’s orders. But you know Lae’zel. You know that she is not as unshakeable as she likes to present herself. You know that, wherever she is right now, she is scared. 

You can barely think. Everything feels blurry, the world fraying at the edges of your vision dissolving into a mess of colour and sound. 

You should have noticed. Gortash had warned you. 

You still have so much you need to do. 

How did you let this happen? 

---

Gale waits a few minutes before he follows you to your tent. He waits nervously outside, unsure. 

“Can I come in?” He asks softly. 

“Please,” you answer, and his heart breaks at the roughness of your voice; no doubt from crying and struggling to keep the sobs quiet enough that the rest of the camp wouldn’t hear them. 

Your eyes are tired, fresh tears still flowing freely down your face. 

Gale is terrified too, just like you and so many of the others, but something else weighs heavy on his chest. Guilt, he quickly realises as he looks at you. 

You’ve been dealing with so much, and so much of it alone. You’ve taken their problems and made them your own; you’ve done everything for them. You’ve bore their worries, their concerns, and their mistakes. You’ve had no one to do the same for you. 

“Gale-” you start, but a sob bubbles out of you cutting you off as your shoulders shake. 

“It’s going to be alright,” he whispers into your hair after he quickly gathers you into his arms as he sits beside you. He pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you like he’s protecting you from the world itself. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologise through hiccups against his chest. He only gently shushes you, carding his fingers through your hair. 

“If there is any apologising to be done, it is us to you. You’ve been doing so much for us; carrying our burdens and helping with them. I will admit even I have been far too preoccupied with my own mess that I failed to consider the weight that we’ve put on you.” 

“I should be able to bear it,” you say mournfully. 

“Absolutely not,” Gale objects. “It’s impossible to do that alone. You are only one person. You are not weak because you failed to carry the weight of the world alone.” He sounds so certain, so genuine in everything he says that you know he isn’t merely saying this to comfort you. “Even if you struggled with even the simplest problem, it would be no slight on your abilities.” His words, as reassuring and comforting as they are, bring on yet another wave of tears. He rubs his hands soothingly along your back. 

“You are not weak because of this,” Gale assures you once you’ve mostly stopped crying. 

“Thank you,” you answer after a while. “Thank you.” 

The two of you sit there together. The steady rise and fall of his chest while you lean against him helps calm your racing heart. Gale hums softly, and you relax in his arms. 

“Everything is going to be alright. We’ll do this together,” Gale says, with a finality that leaves no room for disagreement. 

You nod, too exhausted in both body and mind to bother with speech for now. You reach blindly for one of Gale’s hands, holding it tightly and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. You feel him return a kiss of his own to the top of your head. You don’t need to use your words to explain your gratitude for his presence in your life. He understands you all the same. Your love may go unspoken, but never unheard. 

You let yourself relax. The weight of the world may be both figuratively and literally on your shoulders, but your companions can help you hold it. 

Yes, you think to yourself as Gale moves you both to lay down on the bedroll, everything will be alright. It will be difficult, but you will be fine. And at least, in his arms, you can pretend that everything will be fine for now. You have to hold onto the hope that everything will be fine.

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

[powdermelonkeg]

Gale of Waterdeep assorted headcanons:

He has photographic memory, hence his accuracy when recreating his tower during his last night

He was born during, and named for, a particularly bad storm that smacked into Waterdeep

He's 38 years old and 5'8" (173cm)

The Scroll of True Resurrection was his magnum opus, something he intended to use to bring back someone he cared deeply for, but with the orb, he was forced to repurpose it for his death protocol

He used to go on seasonal ventures with Tara. He'd be on the hunt for magical items and new knowledge, she'd be on the hunt for beholder jerky. It's where he got the stash of artifacts he had before the orb consumed them all

Is he a sorcerer? He'll tell you no. He's a very studied, very LEARNED wizard, thank you. He was casting Fireball, a 3rd level spell, at 8 years old. Of course, he could also fly at 8 years old, because that's also a 3rd level spell. That Storm Sorcerers can fly as a bonus action after spellcasting is mere coincidence.

He and his mother greet each other with a peck on each cheek and a hug

His previous romantic ventures, before Mystra, always fell apart at his magic. He'd be grand and impress them every which way, they'd ask what else he could do and want more, and he'd launch into whole lectures about the craft. It would always peter out about then; either they always wanted him to one-up himself, or they got bored of his studies and frustrated with his focus on them. Mystra was the first that felt like true love to him because she fell into neither of these pitfalls—but the absence of expectation made him nervous and lit a fire under his ambition, because how could he ever be enough?

He has his mother's eyes and hair, but his father's smile and jawline

He knows how to deal with panic attacks, not because he himself is often subject to them, but because his magical shenanigans when he was young often sent the housekeeper into a state, and he felt bad about it. Particularly after the magma mephit incident burned a hole in the carpet. His own first panic attack was just after he got the orb; Tara sat on his lap and purred like a motor to help calm him down

The man is demi. He has to believe there's a hint of interest in him in order to start seeing the attractive parts of another. Because of that, he thinks "smash or pass" style conversations to be pointless and trite. Of course, he reads into things too much, so he might THINK there's a spark of interest in him before there actually is one and react accordingly

He gets his articulate vocabulary and speech patterns from his time in the Blackstaff Academy, his tendency for jokes and his wild gesticulation from his father, and both his proud and romantic outlook from his mother. His wonder for the world around him has always been in his heart, ever since he began playing with magic

He and his father generally got along, but they had a series of arguments when Mystra came into the picture. Well-intended, civil arguments, none that ever ended in shouting or anything; more a quiet damage of disapproval that left Gale frustrated and feeling like his family didn't understand how great an interaction like he'd earned was

His father died in a carriage accident shortly after Gale moved into his own place. Gale had been trying to make a scroll of True Resurrection to get him back, but...well...

With the orb, statistically speaking, Gale should have gone to Laeral Silverhand about his artifact problem. With his search for "elder wizards" to address his condition with when you talk to him, as well as her ability to CREATE magical artifacts, she seems the best solution. But he hasn't gone to her, nor Vajra, the current Blackstaff of Waterdeep, because he was afraid that if they learned of his condition, he'd be evicted from Waterdeep for the rest of the city's safety (to speak nothing of how much it would hurt to see their disappointment in him)

On that same note, the reason he (according to Tara) left without so much as a note was that he'd gotten an impulsive decision to go to Silverymoon and ask help of Lord Methrammar Aerasumé, Alustriel Silverhand's son. And that's why he was in Yartar when the Nautiloid attacked

On the whole "who meddled first, Mystra or Elminster" topic: Mystra was alive but severely weakened, believed dead until she revealed herself to Elminster. As her Chosen, she'd have known his whereabouts; Elminster interacted with Gale when he was 8, and that's when Mystra became acutely aware of Gale's existence and began interacting with him, BEFORE she began speaking with Elminster (hence Gale's line about "she revealed herself to me")

Same note, when Mystra first appeared to Gale, it was as a child his age. Equal parts enamored with this prodigy who held innate understanding of her Weave, and "keep your enemies close" in regards to caution around where he could lead himself unguided

Their romantic interactions began after she came back to her power in full, though. I fully believe that she paid him the time of day in that regard because she could sense his love for her through the Weave, like how he can sense your intentions during his magic lessons. It was a moment of opportunity, both to indulge herself and to weave (heh) herself further into his future

The Blackstaff Academy gave quarterstaff self defense lessons. Gale was never particularly GOOD at it, but it got him enough to get by. Between that and the various staircases in his tower are why he's built the way he is

He's confident in his appearance, but very conscious of showing too much skin; he doesn't like feeling exposed, hence his camp outfit being as conservative as it is

He can make something palatable out of just about anything, but his cooking style prioritizes flavor WAY over health. Everything is fluffy and delicious and well-seasoned, and also drowned in garlic butter and cream sauces

Despite this, he's a picky eater on his own terms. Give him shelf-stable rations, he'll find some way to make a meal out of the parts he likes, then avoid the rest. Absolutely eats all the M&Ms out of the trail mix

What he drinks depends on his setting. At the bar? Waterdeep whiskey on the rocks. Romantic setting? Arabellan dry wine. Pleasant company to chat with? Tea. Late night studies? Coffee with a stirring of cinnamon. His wedding? Neverwinter ice wine

Besides Mystra, the deities he pays most attention to are Oghma, Sune, Azuth, and Lliira. His patronage at the House of Beauty in Waterdeep is one constant that's never been shaken by his studies

Sometimes, he pretends to be dramatic in the mirror: Doth thy mirror crack? (Thanks for the research, @galedekarios!)

Fully believe Wash My Pain Away to be his personal theme song, independent of the tadpole events

Despite owning a piano, he doesn't actually play it; there's a reason he's spelled it to play songs for him

He was born in late spring, and the season is one of his favorite subjects of poetry

He has sincere potential to be the next Blackstaff: THAT entered his deck of cards when it let him wield it back at the academy

#bg3 #gale dekarios #headcanons #long post

[aerynwrites]

I would love to see some love language HCs for Dammon and Gale (could be fluff or smut... or both!)

omg YES! I love this so much!! NSFW HC’s are beneath the cut!

Gale

Okay, so I definitely feel that Gale is a mix of words of affirmation and physical touch.

I just picture him always wanting to be touching you in some way. Holding you hand, settling a hand on your low back, etc…

also kisses.

I’m sorry but like this man would DEFINITELY be sneaking some kisses. Not even sneaking really lol.

he’d come up behind you when you’re doing something and press a kiss to your shoulder or neck. Or he’d walk by and press a quick kiss to your lips or cheek. And then obviously regular kisses. He just loves to kiss you tbh.

Now - words of affirmation….

As we all know his entire past was basically striving to please Mystra (that bitch).

so like…I definieitly think he loves to hear words of affirmation but especially from you because they are genuine.

Take that convo you have for example about him becoming a god. He’s genuinely so surprised to hear you want him, and not some god he could be. But as SOON as you tell him that he just gets all soft and says he loves you back and just AH!

Yes. He loves to hear that you love him for him and not his magic or his renown as a wizard or the power he has. He just relishes in it genuinely appreciates it as think.

Dammon

Acts of service. Acts of service. Acts. Of. Service.

Did I say acts fo service? Lmao

No but really - it just screams Dammon to me.

Look at everything he did for Karlach in the game! A stranger!! He literally fixed her heart and gave her more time.

Just imagine what he would do for someone he loves.

He would absolutely shower you with labors (literally) of his love.

You need a new weapon or an upgrade? Done.

But outside of his forge I see him doing just little things for you.

Making the bed for you both or since he’s up early anyways making breakfast for the both of you.

He just always does anything he can to ease your burdens in any way.

now as for receiving…I think he’s a quality time guy with a tiny sprinkle of physical touch!

he loves just being in your presence and i can just see him secretly loving when you come to his forge just to sit with him and watch him work.

You don’t even have to talk about anything really. You could just come out there to sit and read while he works and he loves it. But he also loves telling you about his work and showing you what he’s passionate about.

And I can just see him loving going out on little dates with you. You taking him to a tavern with a bard he’s mentioned liking before or even just walking with him through the city!

this man just loves showing you his love with his services and spending time with you tbh.

NSFW…😏

Gale

Here we go you horndogs (i say this lovingly)

so obviously his love languages carry over into the bedroom *winky face*

His hands are all. Over. You.

Period.

he’s grabbing your thighs as he thrusts into you, burying his face into the crook of yoru neck, lips never leaving your skin.

He wants to feel all of you at all times. Especially if it’s like a softer moment.

His hands cradle your cheeks, card through your hair, he’d even pepper your face with kisses all while pressing himself as close as possible to you.

He just wants to be as close to you as possible showing his love to you in ways other than his eloquent words.

Now, when it comes to words of affirmation…ohhhhh boy.

this man loves to be praised 😳

if you tell him how good he feels or how well he fits inside you or anything of the life he will completely lose it.

And if you call him a good boy at any point? Yeah…instant finish tbh lol.

But yeah - I think (as I’ve seen discussed) possibly him having sex with…not a goddess lol - is not as familiar experience so for him to hear you praising him or telling him you like what he’s doing would just spur him on.

Dammon

Once again, things translate lol.

I see Dammon as a very giving lover in the bedroom, whether that be more vanilla or even more out there (we know that book he has in his room i mean come on.)

he’d absolutely love to go down on you. He’d probably do it every single time if you don’t stop him, and he doesn’t expect it in return (although he’ll never complain obviously).

He also always makes sure you finish. Always. There’s no room for argument.

He’ll go so far as to hold himself off until he’s sure you’ve come because he’s not about to leave his partner unsatisfied.

I could also see him being like super sweet if you mention wanting to try new things - like he would jump a the opportunity to show you new things but be so sweet and gentle thought he whole thing.

and of course - quaility time-

He’s a stickler for aftercare.

This really ties in his acts of service and quality time bc he always cleans you up and gets you a glass of water and pulls the covers close before pulling you into his arms.

I genuinely think these aftercare moments are some of his favorite moments with you because after showing each other love in a really intimate way you just get to be close to one another.

He loves just a having you close and loves pillow talk if I’m being honest. It just kind of shows him that you’re both really comfortable with one another to be this vulnerable.

God I love these two. Definitely wanna write more Dammon!!🥺

#Gale dekarios x reader #bg3 gale x reader #bg3 x reader #dammon x reader #bg3 dammon x reader #Bg3 #dammon #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #bg3 dammon #gale

[luminetti]

𝑶𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒖𝒆 𝑨𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒚 ༺♡༻ Chapter 1

༘⋆ Summary: In the world of Faerûn, a new season of love begins for the upper echelons in the nation's capital Baldur’s Gate, gathering a plethora of unwed Lords and Ladies from across the nation. For Miss y/n Neredras, the season only promises another disappointing series of suitors and failed courting, until one night she suddenly finds Lord Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep on her doorstep with a gunshot wound through his stomach, seeking discreet refuge and recovery after a devastating duel. ༘⋆ Pairing: lord!gale dekarios x fem!reader/tav, brief wyll x reader, mentions of (previous) mystra x gale ༘⋆Warnings: blood and bullet wounds, eventual hurt/comfort, mystra's weird predatory behavior (fuck mystra) ༘⋆Notes: set in the regency era and very loosely inspired by bridgerton (I’ve never watched it). i had to make a lot of edits to make this work out how i want so keep in mind that the following changes have been made: - Faerûn and Waterdeep are neighboring countries - Baldur’s Gate is the capital of Faerûn - Mystra (and all the gods) is human - Mystra lives in Waterdeep - Gale is 21 and reader is around 19 (something something, regency age for marriage, something)

༘⋆ Chapters: ┆[1] ┆[2]┆[3]┆[4]┆[5]┆[6] ┆[7] ┆

ao3

You cursed yourself for getting in such a position as you heaved a bloodied body onto your goose down bed sheets, dark sticky crimson clinging to your skin and the front of your white nightgown. The body landed with a soft flump, leaving a suspicious looking trail of blood towards the center of your bed. Normally you were against opening the door for strange men in the middle of the night, but a gunshot wound to the stomach usually prohibited acts of violence, unless the attacker wanted to bleed out to death, so you deemed it safe enough. You made sure to grab a fire poker from the fireplace on your way back from the medicine cabinet, just in case.

Blood was beginning to pool underneath the man, signaling that if you were to do anything, it had to be done with haste. Fighting back a gag at the tangy metal aroma, you undid his vest and undershirt, pulling it off and discarding it somewhere on the floor. The bullet had thankfully wedged itself near the surface of his flesh making it an easy grab with a pair of tweezers. The wound itself proved to be more of a challenge. Stitches were required to stop the bleeding, but the needle slipped around between your fingers, and attempting to wipe the slick blood off your hands just made more of a mess. After a bit of adjusting, and a lot of wiping, you finally managed a messy line of seven uneven stitches.

For the first time in the past half hour, the thumping of your heartbeat began to fade from your ears, allowing you to process what had just happened.

You took a moment to look him over. He looked around your age. Around twenty– no, twenty-one? It was hard to tell with so much hair in his face. From what you could make out, he appeared to be a reasonably attractive man. Perhaps a bit unkempt, you thought, but as to be expected at this time of night. With his chestnut brown hair, he vaguely reminded you of Clyde, your childhood dog. Though intended as a compliment, you made a mental note to keep that one to yourself when–if ever–he awoke. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep that was drawing you to the curve of his jawline, but with a start, you realize you had been staring for far too long. Blinking away your daydreams, you see the scene in front of you as it truly is.

There was a body in your bed.

You frantically reach over the bed to press two fingers firmly against his neck, feeling around for a pulse. Was he even still alive? A slow and faint periodical throb against your fingertips pulls a heavy sigh of relief out of your weary body, and you slump against the side of the bed. Thank the gods.

Unfortunately, the fact he was alive did not solve the strange-man-in-bed issue. Once he had been securely wrapped in several layers of bandages–any more and he may appear mummified–you weren’t sure what else there was to do. So, you recruited the only person in the household that could keep their mouth shut. Your older sister, Euphemia. 

“By Jove, sister… you’ve killed a man…” Euphemia looked pale-faced and wide eyed in horror at the seemingly lifeless body and blood adorning your room.

“Stop it.” You hissed under your breath, closing the bedroom door behind her. “He’s not dead. And would you keep your voice down?”

Euphemia looked from you to the body, then to your crimson hands and nightgown. “Are you to tell me he is… sleeping?” She asked, incredulously, her voice quavering.

You sighed, exasperated. You grabbed her wrist, much to her resistance, and forcefully pressed her fingers against his neck. “There. He is very much alive. Now will you please help me?” 

Your sister sighed in relief. “Gods… He looks mauled.” She eyed your butchered stitchings. “Not a slight on your abilities, of course. Spoken from a place of love.”

“Mock me all you want when we break fast, sister.” You toss her a wet washcloth. “As for now, make haste and wipe down the headboard. I’ll deal with the floor.”

“I merely jest.” She replied, rounding the bed beside the body.

As she approached the unconscious man, she froze, the cloth in her hand dropped to the ground as you heard a sharp intake of breath. Startled, you jump up from your knees.

“Hells, are you hurt?” You turned, expecting to see a splinter or bruise. Alas, Euphemia just stood shell shocked, staring down towards the body. You looked at the man yourself, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Euphemia leaned closer to the body and swept the hair from his face. “I’ve seen this man’s portrait before.” She crouched beside him, studying his features. “It was in a museum of art from other nations.” Closing her eyes, she recounted the museum. “It was a family portrait. So this must be…” Euphemia turned back to you, mystified. “The Viscount of Waterdeep.”

You stared at her. “...Who?”

“The Viscount, Lord Gale Dekarios.”

✣ ✣ ✣

The rest of the night–technically the early morning–passed surprisingly peacefully, with the only hiccup being a lack of bed space. Euphemia made sure to chide you thoroughly for even suggesting that she take Gale to her room instead. In your defense, he had a larger bed than yours. After some back and forth, Euphemia declared that she’d be ruined if someone found her alone with a foreign Viscount, and her hopes of being courted would be gone. You, however, were newer to the season and very much single–which she didn’t hesitate to enunciate–and therefore could afford a scandal or two.

Cursing her under your breath, you reluctantly slipped under the covers, a good sixteen inches apart from the supposed Viscount. Despite everything, you easily drift off into a sound sleep.

A sudden shift in the bed startles you awake. Groggily, you sat up to see early morning sunrays softly beaming through your windows. Your mind clouds with exhaustion as you attempt to recall the night prior. In your fatigue you barely manage to picture a sharp jawline and soft brown hair. A dream, you conclude. Just another fantasy to forget about. You were about to lean back down when you heard the soft squeak of your bed spring from beside you, followed by a hushed murmur.

“Shit.”

Turning towards the voice, you came face to face with a pair of warm chestnut eyes, staring straight back at you. Lord Gale Dekarios–very much not from a dream–stood with one knee on your bed and his other foot on your floor, attempting to leave without a sound. His face was tense with pain and his hand pressed over the wet bandages covering his wound.

You made no move to stop him, merely watching as he gawked at you dumbstruck like a child with his hand trapped in a cookie jar. “What are you doing?” you asked.

It was as if you had two heads with the way he stared at you.

“My deepest apologies for the intrusion last night,” he managed to stammer out, quickly collecting himself and beginning to stand from the bed. “By Jove, I will leave right away-”

“Why?” You cut him off.

He choked out a confused sputter. “Pardon?”

You gestured to his bloodied bandages. “You are injured. Are you not?”

His eyes flicked to the wound before returning to your questioning gaze. “I am.” He replied, slowly.

“So sit. Unless you mean to walk home.” Standing from the bed, you scoured the room for the remainder of the bandages you brought from before.

Gale hesitantly perched himself on the edge of your bed frame, unsure how to proceed. After a couple moments of watching you flit around the room, he cleared his throat. “Pray tell, which residence am I in the company of?”

Upon gathering the materials and medicines, you sat across from him, laying out the paraphernalia in between you both. “This is the Neredras Manor,” you replied, beginning to work on replacing his dark, oxidized bandages.

From up close you could finally make out his facial features in detail. His jawline was as you remembered, but his hair was finger-combed back against his neck, almost brushing against his shoulders. His atmosphere had changed as well. Despite his grim injuries, a warm feeling surrounded him, almost like an aura of liveliness. You leaned into him, passing the bundle of old bandages around his body as you unwrapped. In such close proximity you just barely manage to make out faint traces of spicy cinnamon, crisp parchment, and freshly lit firewood.

You froze and pulled back sharply. You had completely forgotten yourself. He hadn’t noticed, had he? You glanced up briefly, only to be immediately met by chestnut eyes that bore into you with a thousand-yard stare, and lips ever so slightly muttering to himself as if he was lost in thought. 

“...Pretty.” Gale whispered, barely intelligible.

“What?”

Upon realizing you were staring right back at him, he quickly averted his eyes, finally breaking out of his stupor. “Sorry?” He cleared his throat, struggling to meet your gaze.

“Pretty?” You repeated, confused.

Gale sputtered, seemingly caught off guard before a look of mortified realization crossed his features. “Morning,” he declared abruptly. “Y-You are morning.” He paused. “I mean, it is morning.” He paused again. “I mean, It is a pretty morning,” he finally managed, eyes settling back on yours as a pale flush of pink crept up his neck, threatening to wrap around his cheeks.

You attempted to raise the back of your palm to feel his forehead, concerned, only to be intercepted by Gale as he caught your wrist and brought it back down to your lap.

“I assure you, I am perfectly well,” he took a deep breath, composing himself. “And usually better at this.” He added, pressing a customary kiss to the back of your hand. “All this and you don’t even know my name.”

“Well, actually–” you began.

“Gale Dekarios,” he vaunted, chest almost puffed, and you swear you’ve seen images of birds of paradise performing similar moves during a mating dance. Knowing he was a Viscount made the visual match far too well and you failed to stifle a chortle.

“Pleased to make your–” Gale faltered slightly at your reaction. “Did I do something?”

Struggling to pull yourself together, you shake your head breathlessly. “No, it’s nothing. It’s just, I know who you are already.” 

He looked puzzled. “You do?”

Nodding, you let out a deep breath, overcoming your brief laughing fit. “My older sister is quite the socialite. She recognized you from your portrait.”

From his impressed expression, you caught yourself wondering if they would be a good match. Euphemia was always fond of the idea of marrying a Viscount, like your mother had, not to mention she was up to date on all the drama of the ton.

An unfamiliar sensation twisted in your gut, unnoticeable until you focused on it. You hadn’t had breakfast yet so it was likely just hunger. But strangely, this hunger was creeping up from your stomach, almost residing in your chest with a faint pang.

You stood up sharply, pushing down the strange feelings. “You must be hungry, my Lord.”

Gale’s eyes flicked around your face, almost as if he was studying you. “I could eat,” he finally spoke. “And please, just Gale.”

Nodding quickly, you turned on your heel and briskly left your room, closing the door behind you. The twinge in your chest finally simmered, leaving your cheeks slightly flushed and blood nearly warm. You let yourself fall against your door, breathing deeply.

Suitors had come and gone before, and once he healed, Gale Dekarios would be nothing more than a man you met for a day.

#gale dekarios x reader #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #bg3 x tav #gale dekarios x tav #gale of waterdeep #gale x reader #alternate universe #bg3 #bg3 x reader #gale dekarios #wizard of waterdeep #regency #tav bg3 #gale x tav #gale romance #regency au

[sinnomel]

Forget His Goddess

Pairing: Gale x Tav

Summary: What if you kiss Gale after he shows you how to manipulate the Weave?

A/N: this was supposed to be angst - Sin

There was a tadpole wriggling about in between their eyes with a set time limit on getting it out, an unfamiliar place that they landed in Faerûn and new companions that had nothing in common aside from their mission to free their headspace from the illithid transformation. At the moment, Tav’s concern was making sure that all of their new companions at least tolerated them - after all, they were going to be traveling together. Lae’zel proved to be one of the more difficult to make small talk with, and Astarion proved to be overly flirty for reasons they didn’t wish to delve into. Back at camp, Shadowheart would keep to herself, busying herself with the odd prism shaped artifact she collected on the nautiloid. 

Gale seemed to be the best at making conversation, but there was something that bothered Tav - he always brought up Mystra, the Goddess of Magic. It would happen, unprompted, during the group escapades into the Emerald Grove, walking the dirt paths, or even when everyone was in the middle of sneaking - he would ask for her blessing, her protection, or just utter her name.

Tav listened to his rambles which they thought were quite endearing, but then unprompted, he would mention Mystra. It wasn’t anything like Shadowheart, who worshiped Shar. Tav thought it was more than meets the eye - it seemed to them that Gale wanted to be in Mystra’s good graces, but for some reason, was not. Strange, Tav thought, as Gale was a wizard and his patron goddess had to be Mystra. There was a glint of sadness sometimes when he mentioned her, but it was never there very long. He would quickly hide it with his signature smile. 

One night, Tav was sitting by the campfire, the smell of burning logs and the cracking of the fire comforting them after a long and difficult day of fighting gnolls. They were in the middle of cleaning and polishing their armor, ridding it of the stickiness of dried blood with a damp cloth - that is, until they noticed that everyone else had been tending to their own devices but Gale specifically had his back towards everyone, as if he was holding something. Curiosity had gotten the better of them and they left their armor, the cloth and the comfort of the crackling fire. 

Tav approached quietly, trying to see what it is that Gale was holding - it was a magical rendering of Mystra that he was holding in one hand, concentrating to keep the image intact. “Pretty,” Tav said, startling Gale so much that the image he was holding had disappeared. 

“O-Oh! You startled me. I…I was miles away,” he said, sounding like Tav had caught him doing something lewd and inappropriate. “Is there a reason you’re conjuring Mystra’s image?” “No special reason. I was practicing an incantation, that’s all,” he stumbled. “There must be something you’re not telling me. There seems to be more to this ‘incantation’ than meets the eye,” Tav said, making air quotes when they said incantation. Somehow, this had persuaded Gale to open up a bit more. “Well, she’s Mystra. I have a…need to see her sometimes. There’s no right way for me to describe this without it sounding strange,” he explained. “Mystra is all magic,” Gale added. 

Tav thought it strange how he spoke of his goddess - as if there was nothing else in the world that mattered but Mystra. This tugged at Tav’s heartstrings, wondering if there would ever be a person on this earth who would speak of them the way that Gale spoke of Mystra. Though, it was a bit heartbreaking, as Mystra didn’t answer him when he asked for her. 

“I don’t think I understand it. But perhaps you could show me?” Tav asked, slightly coy, leaning towards the wizard. Gale blinked and lit up, “I could do that if you’d like. Do as I do.” Gale started making arm movements and Tav copied after him, creating a cool to the touch purple aura. It was startling to them and they yelped, hopping back in surprise. Gale couldn’t help but chuckle at their reaction. However, a new feeling surrounded both Gale and Tav. It was comforting and warm, as if the air around them was enveloping the pair in a hug. Gale then asked Tav to repeat the incantation after him, which they did and suddenly their senses had heightened - the scent of rosewater erased the smell of the campsite, something sweet tampered with their taste buds and the delicate hair on the back of their neck stood straight, their skin creating goosebumps. Tav was sensing Mystra’s presence. They couldn’t help but look at Gale, both of their gazes connect, creating this tension, this need or anticipation of getting closer…close enough where their lips barely touch, their hands enveloping each other, then of course, closing the gap and sealing the moment with a kiss. But neither of them move and none of that happened. 

“How does it feel…Channeling the Weave?” Gale asked, looking around at the magic that Tav summoned. “Obviously magical…surprisingly sensual,” Tav said softly, their eyes looking around the magic. Gale agrees and their eyes lock once more. There was something about this moment that felt intimate with Gale. Tav felt something turn within them. The way that Gale is looking at them made their heart flutter in a way that it didn’t before and the Weave melded their minds. In a moment, Tav’s mind let loose an image of Gale and them kissing once, then twice, the second time more passionate than the first. Gale was flustered - as if Tav had described their intimate image themself. 

“I…I didn't think-” Gale started, the emotion the Weave is showing is that embarrassment is now turning to happiness. “Did I startle you?” Tav asked, their concentration was breaking as their concern was now overstepping boundaries. Because their concentration was breaking, the comfort and warmth of Mystra’s embrace was fading, it was feeling colder, more lonely, and that connection that Gale and Tav had was slowly being severed. “No. Not at all. I just wasn’t expecting it. But! It is very much appreciated. Very welcome…very much wanted,” he said, his eyes now showing a more seductive side to the wizard, now in turn, flustering Tav. 

The pair was standing in silence. Gale opened his mouth, then closed it, thinking about what it is that he wanted to say. 

“You look like you want to say something,” Tav said, watching the wizard contemplate the right words. “Well, you’re not wrong regarding that. I just don’t want to say the wrong thing,” Gale confessed. “I won’t judge you if it’s something you want to tell me,” Tav nodded, trying to keep the conversation from disintegrating. “I wanted to know if that was something you wanted to do,” Gale said quietly. Tav blinked and fought the blush creeping onto their cheeks. Instead of saying anything else, they closed the distance between their bodies and leaned up, but only slightly. They wanted Gale to meet them halfway, just in case this wasn’t something he wanted to do. Luckily for Tav, he closed the gap, pressing his lips against their own. Starting from this moment, Gale knew what it was like to forget his goddess.

#gale dekarios #gale dekarios x reader #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale x tav #gale bg3 #baldurs gate 3 gale #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 x reader #tav

[blackjackkent]

Owlbear Vignettes

At first, Buddy sticks very close to Hector in camp. Hector was the one who fed him first. Hector is kind, with a soft voice. Hector gives him scritches between the ears and murmurs blessings Buddy doesn't understand. Hector is not Mother, but Hector is safe.

The others take some getting used to.

-----

Karlach is not expecting it, the first night Buddy tries to sleep in the tent with them. She's half-asleep and at first only dimly aware of claws jabbing through her clothes, which meld unpleasantly with a dream of stinging sparks in the Hells. Her eyes flicker open - and then she jumps as she comes face to face with an owlbear beak. Buddy has nestled himself between her and Hector, curled into a floofed-up ball.

"Aw, hells. Hec--" she says sleepily.

"Mmph?" Hector answers. "Wha-- ack!" There's a sudden sputtering noise as he rolls over into a faceful of feathers.

"That."

She hears Hector laugh softly in the darkness. "Buddy, you can't sleep there." He nudges at the cub's flank; Buddy makes a soft noise of objection. "Come on, Bud."

Buddy gives a chirping whine but allows himself to be displaced so Hector can snuggle in against Karlach again. The cub considers the situation for a moment, then flops deliberately on Hector's other side, staring at Karlach the whole time as if daring her to say anything about it.

"I think I have competition," she tells Hector with a grin.

"You're way prettier than he is, don't worry," Hector mumbles into her shoulder.

-----

Gale makes a picture of a woman, but she has no smell. Buddy doesn't like that. It seems wrong.

Wyll emerges from his tent to the sound of Waterdhavian-accented oration at full volume.

"That is the goddess of magic, Buddy. That is Mystra herself!" Gale is lecturing the little beast, poking a finger into Buddy's face. "You cannot simply swipe a claw through her as if she were a mouse you'd caught unawares. That is a disrespect of the highest order and I would have thought you smart enough to know better."

Buddy listens attentively, his head cocked over to one side, occasionally chirping whenever Gale pauses for breath.

"I understand that you are an owlbear and therefore not privy to the mysteries of the Weave," the mage goes on. "But that does not exempt you from a certain level of basic decency towards the divine. I will thank you to remember this in future and improve your decorum."

Wyll grins, folding his arms as he watches this little display unfold. "Do you want to try it again with an animal speaking potion?"

Gale sighs. "No, no, never mind. He's just a beast after all, he can't really be expected to understand."

"I don't know," Wyll says mildly. "Perhaps he has the right of it. A protective instinct, if you will, given the target does want you to blow yourself up. I think he's not the only one in camp who would give her a swipe if they could."

"I'll thank you to keep your disrespect to yourself as well," Gale says dryly. His fingers flick through the air, conjuring a new, glowing image of his goddess.

Buddy swats a paw through her again at once.

-----

The githyanki is sharp like Mother's claws. She snaps when Buddy comes close, sniffs disdainfully when he scarfs down some of the camp supplies. He steers clear and watches her from a distance.

He understands how this works. She is one of the alphas. She must be brought a gift before she will accept him in the flock.

One night, Hector watches with bemusement as the cub, his whole expression screwed up with deep owlbear concentration, drags a large dead rabbit through the camp.

Catching Hector's gaze, he drops the rabbit and chirps softly, wandering in a slow circle around his prize. His feathers fluff up in a deliberate attempt to make himself look bigger, as if to steel himself for a great challenge. Then he grabs the rabbit again by the head, and in a single smooth motion, drags it into the tent where Lae'zel is currently sleeping.

There is a brief moment of silence, followed by a yell that echoes through the whole camp. Buddy, still poofed out in all directions, comes sailing through the tent flap, tumbling end over end and hitting the ground some distance away. The dead rabbit follows closely thereafter.

The next morning, Lae'zel acts as if nothing happens, but Hector does note with some surprise that she gives Buddy an absent pat on the head every time she walks past him. Later, she offers him a torn off scrap of the hunk of jerky she grabs for her evening meal.

"You're not holding his midnight visit against him, then?" Hector asks her.

"On the contrary," she says gravely. "The creature offered tribute to me as its jhe'stil, and showed bravery in doing so. It has earned the respect due a beast of combat."

"But you threw him out of the tent!"

She looks at him unblinkingly. "Yes."

Hector considers trying to understand this, and then decides not to bother.

-----

Shadowheart rarely comes close at first to either Buddy or Scratch. She is wary of them as beasts of the forest. Scratch says she is afraid of wolves. Buddy is NOT a wolf - but he is almost as big as one, so he thinks maybe it makes sense.

She often looks at him like she would like to pet him, though. A few times, she does drift near, and lays her hand gently between his ears on the soft feathers at the nape of his neck. And he sees a little smile tug at her lips - but then there is a flash of magic around her hand, and she winces or cries out in pain and draws away.

Many weeks on, deep in the Shadowlands, there is a great commotion one night - an explosion of light and crashing and roaring in the distance. Buddy watches with great interest, and some concern, as Hector returns to the camp with Karlach and Wyll, all of them covered in blood and slime. Shadowheart, equally battered, follows behind them at a distance, her eyes hollow and her face even paler than usual.

Buddy finds her in her tent later, staring at the wall in the darkness. He sits in the tent flap and chirps questioningly.

"No. Go away," she mutters. "I can't--"

She falls silent. He chirps again, scoots a little closer to her.

"It hurt so much..." she whispers. "All this time, all that pain... for a lie..."

She gives a sudden hoarse, humorless laugh. "There was never any wolf. D'you know that? There was never any wolf at all."

He gives a soft, whickering sort of noise and nudges his head cautiously against her hand. There is no flash of magic, no cry of pain. He does it again. Her fingers fist suddenly into his feathers, pulling him towards her.

He squawks, alarmed, then relaxes as she presses her face into the soft down of his back and sobs.

-----

Late one night, Astarion tracks a deer through the woods. They're difficulty prey, jumpy and skittish, but his steps are light, an almost inaudible tread. And they have quite a lot of blood in them. The hunger gnaws at his stomach and his red eyes gleam in the moonlight.

Just a little closer...

His boot knocks against an ill-placed stone, barely a rustle of sound but enough. The deer lifts its head and gives a keening cry, and bolts.

"Oh-- damn it," he mutters, straightening out of his crouched position. His fingers flex with undirected frustration and he leans heavily against a nearby tree. "Damn, damn, damn." What a feast that would have been... the local squirrel population has been decent, but deer is something else entirely. One of his favorites, second only to the kobolds and, of course, the one pure draught he got from Hector's throat...

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of an animal squealing in abject pain, a ripping, tearing noise of wet meat - and then a soft chirp. He looks down, puzzled.

Buddy is sitting looking up at him with bright, wide eyes. His beak is coated in blood, and he bounces in an excited circle around Astarion's feet before guiding him through the foliage nearby. The deer sits sprawled on the mossy ground, its head bent at an odd angle.

"Huh." Astarion raises his eyebrows, examining the gory tableau. His stomach growls audibly at the glinting shine of wet blood at the deer's throat. "Not badly done. I didn't think I was in the market for a hunting partner, but perhaps we should work together more often."

Buddy wiggles all over with excitement and butts his head against Astarion's leg.

"Yes, yes, you're very cute. Now stay out of the way and let me drain this thing before you start looking tasty as well."

-------

"No!" Minsc bellows, looking down at the cub imperiously. "You will stand aside, beast; though your talons be very sharp and your beak to match, Minsc will bear each scratch before you shall lay one claw upon Boo!"

Buddy cowers back, his eyes very wide and all his feathers standing up, as the berserker towers over him. Boo sits atop Minsc's head and squeaks angrily down at the cub from his perch.

"Minsc!" Jaheira steps in between them, raising one hand before Minsc can speak again. "Calm yourself. I heard you all the way across the camp. What is the matter?"

"Minsc woke to find the little feather-beast eyeing Boo with the hungriest of eyes," Minsc says fiercely. "Does he think Boo a little snack to be feasted upon?!"

"No doubt," Jaheira says calmly, struggling not to smile; Minsc is obviously incensed, and yet there is something comical in seeing him stare down the little round ball of feathers with such ferocity. "For he is a beast of nature; why should he know otherwise?"

"Well, he shall not have him!"

"Peace." Jaheira crouches next to the owlbear, murmurs a spell under her breath; green light flares around her body. "Do you hear me, cub?" she murmurs.

Buddy goes very still; his feathers flatten out and he stares at her with wide eyes. "You... speak?" he whispers.

"With all the wisdom that nature gave me." She smiles, reaches out to scratch him under the chin. "You must leave the hamster alone. For he is Minsc's to protect, as you are Hector's."

The cub chirrups skeptically. "Rat. Tasty," he points out.

"There is no shortage of rats in the city," Jaheira says dryly. "We shall find you other meat. But you must promise to leave Boo in safety."

Buddy makes a soft grumbling noise. "All right. Promise," he mumbles.

Jaheira looks up at Minsc, her eyes glinting with amusement. "The bargain is made," she says soberly.

"Ah." Minsc brightens up at once and grins. "Good. Minsc did not want to kick such a little, cute butt, if there was any helping it."

Buddy trots along at Jaheira's side as she walks away; his sharp little eyes peer up at her excitedly. "You speak. New Mother?" he asks hopefully.

"Gods. No," Jaheira sputters. "I am no more your mother than I am Minsc's Wychlaran; where does everyone get these ideas?"

Buddy's ears turn down. "Just hoped."

She pauses, then smiles faintly. "I may not be your mother, cub, but I think you have a whole camp full of family. As creatures of the wilderness go, you have it made."

-----

Withers examines the cub closely as it creeps around the edge of the camp, watching him from the shadows. "I offer no threat to thee, little beast," the skeleton intones gravely. "Thou hast no need of secrecy."

Buddy chirps. Emerging from the shadows, he sits at Withers' feet, looking up at him.

Withers' expression does not shift. "Indeed," he murmurs. "A creature without mooring. Untethered and yet bound. A matter of luck... or of fate."

Buddy tips his head slowly to one side.

"Thou art a pillar, upon which is built the lever which shall move the world." The faintest hint of a smile twists the skeleton's lips. "And yet thou knowest it not. This is as it should be. By such truths does all remain in balance."

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #owlbear cub #karlach #wyll ravengard #gale of waterdeep #lae'zel #shadowheart #astarion #bg3 drabble #bg3 fic #minsc #jaheira #withers #idk how good this is but i had a lot of fun writing it XD #drabble