#gale brainrot

[nrvcntr]

My Lover is Like

hey remember how i said i'd write that fic about tav coming from a noble background and having a riddle that someone has to answer to date her and no one ever gets it right and then years later she tells gale and he knows immediately? anyway here it is

There are certain scents that bring back memories - warm grass on a summer’s day, fresh linens placed on a bed, and of course, the sickly sticky burn of a bottle of plum fizz, shared among friends. Astarion recoiled after he sniffed the open bottle, his nose scrunched in horror.

“You can’t be serious,” He said.

“You’re being dramatic. It isn’t that bad,” You replied.

You had found a crate full of bottles on your last trek and dragged it back to the campsite, anticipating a heroic welcome at your generous haul. It was nearing sunset and it seemed as good of a time as any to see what the contents of the crate were. Upon cracking the crate open, your eyes lit up at the sight of bottles on bottles of plum fizz. This had been the drink that defined your adolescence as a noble in Baldur’s Gate. It immediately brought back memories of revelry, singing songs next to bonfires, and a young Wyll Ravengard throwing up in the street. You pulled out a bottle and handed it to Astarion, who had reacted like a man who never knew the joys of noble debauchery.

“It smells like it could raise something from the dead and then kill it again,” He said, handing the bottle back to you.

“Look, we used to drink this all the time when we were kids. It’s like a rite of passage among children of nobility in Baldur’s Gate.”

Wyll, overhearing the conversation, came over to see what you were so impassioned about. At the sight of the bottle in your hand, he recoiled like someone had just smacked him upside the head.

“No. Get that thing away!” He shouted, shaking his hands.

“Oh, stop it. I remember you used to beg to play fizzy hands when we were younger,” You said.

“Fizzy hands.” Astarion said flatly, “What sort of braindead activity is fizzy hands?”

You raised your brow to Wyll, who explained that “fizzy hands” was the beloved drinking game of your youth, where a small magical seal was applied to two bottles of plum fizz, which an individual would hold. The seal wouldn’t break until both bottles were consumed.

“Fizzy hands leads to fizzy guts, which leads to…a fizzy mess, in the street. You couldn’t pay me to take a sip of that now.” Wyll said.

You looked around the campsite and gestured to Gale, who had been beginning the preparations for dinner so intently that he hadn’t noticed the failing case you were trying to make in favor of plum fizz.

“It’s nice to know that your taste in wine is nearly as bad as your taste in men,” Astarion mused, causing you to shoot him a farcefully menacing look. Your affections for Gale were no secret, and the two of you had shared an intimate moment in the Weave, but you were unsure of your current status, or even whether he really returned your feelings. You had begun to write it off as a passing fancy, something to daydream about during long days of traveling. Though, there was no hiding how much you enjoyed being around the man, your conversations often dragging well into the night after everyone else had fallen asleep. You had never met anyone else who seemed to understand you the way that Gale did, or whose company you enjoyed nearly half as much.

“You’re a man of taste, and you’re knowledgeable about wine. Can you settle a debate for us?” You asked Gale when he walked over.

“A glass of wine sounds delightful this evening. What’s the topic of debate?” He asked.

“Astarion and Wyll may not be as cultured as you and I. Just tell them about the fine properties of this blend,” You said, trying to communicate ‘please, say this tastes good’ in your expression as you poured a glass and handed it over.

Gale swirled the glass and his eyes widened at the scent. To his credit, he took an honest sip and racked his brain for something kind to say about it. “It has notes of…berry. And cinnamon. And…” He couldn’t do it. “Acid. It tastes like it would eat a hole through a table if you spilled some on it. Do the youth of Baldur’s Gate really ingest this willingly?” He asked.

You threw your hands up.

“Poor taste, the lot of you. It cannot be helped.”

After dinner, Astarion sauntered over to you, two glasses of plum fizz in hand.

“A drink together. Sort of a truce,” He said.

You were suspicious, but took the glass in hand. The spicy, bitter, sweet, and confusing concoction ran down your throat and made your stomach feel hot. Astarion’s glass was already empty, and he poured you both another. By the time you realized that Astarion had been pouring his drinks out to get you to continue drinking, you were drunk enough to begin telling stories of your youth in Baldur’s Gate.

“So, after Wyll threw up in the street -”

“Can you please stop talking about that. I have plenty of embarrassing stories I could tell at your expense, you know. Lock.” Wyll said pointedly.

“Lock?” Shadowheart asked.

You covered your face, feeling a burning sensation creep up your cheeks.

“What none of you realize is that our beloved companion here was once the most eligible bachelorette in Baldur’s Gate nobility. Her family was wealthy and she was beautiful, intelligent, and charming…”

“Whatever happened?” You asked, making yourself laugh.

“However, she never took a partner. Singles of all creeds, genders, and races tried, but no one could get through to her. So, she began to be known as ‘the lock of Baldur’s Gate’. And, what opens a lock but a key? And the key to her heart was to answer a riddle,” Wyll explained with a dramatic flourish.

“A riddle? How droll. That’s a little…presumptuous, don’t you think?” Astarion asked. You shrugged.

“Why a riddle?” Karlach asked.

“I didn’t want to end up with someone who was a complete dunce,” You joked. It was a half-truth, since the whole truth would have disrupted the mood of revelry among your companions.

“Well, do we get to hear it?” Shadowheart asked.

You leaned back and looked at the faces of your companions. Wyll shook his head, having heard this question lamented among the singles of Baldur’s Gate throughout his youth.

“What is loving Taglath like?” You asked, the question rolling off of your tongue like a well-rehearsed line.

“What a stupid question!” Astarion huffed, rolling his eyes. He had no idea what the answer could be.

“Oh, do you know the answer, then? Since it’s so stupid,” You said, unable to wipe the smirk off of your face. It always delighted you to stump someone with the riddle, and it delighted you even more to watch them struggle with it.

“What is loving like?” You repeated, prodding Astarion for the answer.

“Darling, loving you is like poison seeping through my veins,” Astarion said, pretending to be a romantic poet, his hand gripping his chest, “- and it kills me to be parted from you,” He added, taking your hand in his icy cold grasp.

“Very sweet, but no,” You responded.

Everyone laughed, getting a little chuckle out of Astarion’s foolishness.

“Oh come on, it’s not like any of you geniuses know the answer,” Astarion said, raising a brow to the group. He looked around at their curious faces and wonders aloud, “Do you?”

“Uh, I don’t remember my childhood. Much less silly poems,” Shadowheart said, but thought about it for a moment. “Is it like a rose? Something beautiful out of the dirt?”

You shook your head.

“Chk. This is a waste of time,” Lae’zel said..

“C’mon, Lae’zel, what do you think loving is like?” Wyll probed, the githyanki rolling her eyes at him.

Lae’zel replied, “Like a well-won battle, your enemies dead at your feet.” There is a pause before she asked, “Did I answer correctly?”

“No,” You replied.

Karlach wiped her hands on her pants, not waiting to be asked. “You’re barking up the wrong tree if you ask me, solider,” She said, “But I’ll give it a try. Is it like a cool drink of water on a hot night?”

“That’s sweet, Karlach. It’s own little poem, even. But no,” You said.

“Well what’s the answer?” Astarion huffed, getting frustrated at this little display of ignorance.

“Salamander!” Wyll interjected, snapping his fingers like he cracked the code. This made everyone crack up, to his dismay. “No, because - I mean, uh - well, it’s better than corpses!” He insisted. This only made everyone laugh more.

In this revelry, no one even thought to glance at Gale, who had been watching the scene with a bemused little smile on his face.

There was a lull when the laughter died down, the silence of everyone taking a breath after a hearty laugh.

Through the silence, two words cut through the air like a knife directly to your heart.

“The Sun.”

You gasped (a reaction that, in retrospect, embarrassed you with how dramatic it was). You stared at the speaker, Gale’s dark eyes glinting in the firelight. You felt you must have looked ridiculous, your jaw agape.

In all of the years of telling the riddle, no one had ever known the answer. The key to your heart, you joked. But it had been more serious than you ever let on. As each suitor fumbled through wrong answers, it had only solidified your belief that true love would never be yours. That you would eventually have to settle for someone who couldn’t really understand you.

It was like time stopped, the visions of your companions becoming a blur as Gale came into focus.

Gale, meanwhile, appeared to be blissfully unaware that he had just broken your brain (what was left of it, at least).

“That’s…right. How did you know?” You choked out, hardly above a whisper.

“It’s a very clever riddle. See, most would probably assume that the riddle is about the works of Taglath, whom is renowned as an iconic romantic poet. His works adorn his lover with brilliant metaphors that have captured readers since their inception,” Gale explained to the group, lecturing his never-be students.

“That’s probably why Gef Deldus spent one summer immersed in Taglath’s works,” Wyll recalled, chuckling, “He told everyone that he had solved the riddle. He was convinced you would be his bride by the end of the season. What was his answer?” He asked.

“Love is like a poem,” You replied, still dumbfounded by Gale’s answer.

“The education in Baldur’s Gate leaves much to be desired,” Gale snarked, then continued, “What most people don’t know is that Taglath’s most prominent muse was another poet named Alanis. Unfortunately, most of her work has been lost to history. Almost no complete works remain, and only fragments have been collected for publication. But in her most complete work, she compares her lover to the Sun. It’s a gorgeous poem about loving someone who burns brightly and the fears associated with taking a lover of prominence. Loving despite fear,” He said.

You wondered how it was possible that your body felt like it was on fire but also like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on you. Did none of your companions notice that you were going insane? The realization rocked you like an earthquake.

Gale Dekarios was not a passing fancy, someone to think about kissing when the option presented itself. He was neither a daydream nor a wet dream to pass the time at different hours. He was not the greatest friend you had ever had, the person who you most looked forward to speaking to each morning after you woke and each night before you went to bed. The person who you spoke about nothing and everything with, played games with, or just enjoyed a comfortable silence with. He was not your traveling companion, nor even an ally who had risked his life for you as you had done for him. It was impossible for Gale to be any one of those things because he was all of them all at once and so much more.

Oh, fuck, you realized, your knees ready to give way.

You were in love with him.

The sound of your companions laughing and chattering together mixed together and sounded like ocean waves. If anyone turned to ask you anything you probably would have just stared at them blankly. You attempted to take a step toward Gale and the drinks you had earlier in the night went to your head, sending you tumbling forward and onto the ground.

“Looks like the plum fizz kicked in. ‘Key’, maybe you should take the ‘lock’ to bed,” Shadowheart said to Gale.

You thought that if you closed your eyes, maybe the ground would swallow you up and you would never have to look at Gale again. Instead, you felt him help you to your feet, allowing you to lean against him as he walked you to your tent. You were desperate to know what was going through his mind - did he realize the gravity that he answer had?

“Easy now,” Gale said, helping you down onto your bedroll. He treated you gently, helping you to unlace your boots and get settled in under the blanket. You were sick to your stomach at being doted on by him and kept quiet, trying to focus on anything but the way he looked at you. He left for a moment and came back to bring you some water.

“Is there anything you need?” He asked.

You were quiet for a moment, then spoke.

“Gale?”

“Yes?”

“After we had that moment in the Weave…you mentioned that we shouldn’t talk about it then, with the orb being unstable and everything going on,” You said, then allowed yourself to lean into your own intoxication, asking what was truly on your mind. “Was that really the reason? Because if you don’t see me that way, you can tell me. It won’t hurt my feelings.” The words poured out of you too quickly for you to worry about sounding insecure. It was a lie, of course, that it wouldn’t hurt your feelings. Being rejected by Gale would be devastating.

Gale looked thoughtful, then recited the end of Alanis’s fragments of her poem about her lover.

“My lover is like the Sun, Brilliant and bright He eclipses me And yet I yearn

My lover is like the Sun Blinding and unyielding When he touches me I burn”

He placed his hand on your cheek, his gaze looking through you and into your soul. The two of you could say so much without a single word.

“Am I the Sun, or are you?” You asked.

Gale had loved the poem when he read it as a boy, and later thought of it often when he was with Mystra, trying to make sense of the reality of having a goddess for a lover. He had often wondered if he would ever have an identity outside of being Mystra’s chosen, or whether he would forever be tied to the Goddess. And if that was the case, why did the idea of it make him burn with jealousy?

However, the poem had taken on new meaning since he met you. He felt like the Sun, a ball of fire ready to explode in his chest at any moment. As badly as he wanted to hold you close, he knew that doing so would destroy you. Still, he wondered, might it be worth it to burn if he could have one moment of knowing what it was like to be yours entirely?

Or rather, were you the Sun? He was certainly transfixed by you, drawn to your brilliance. You, a mortal who dared to be more brilliant and enticing than his Goddess. Would following you lead him down the path to certain doom - or worse, would getting close to you lead you to your own demise? It was that thought that kept him up at night, wondering if he should escape in the night. To save you from himself, or at least get you as far away from the danger as possible.

Gale contemplated your question.

“I’m not sure,” He finally replied.

“I don’t know, either.”

You placed your hand on Gale’s, your gaze fixed on each other, searching for an answer in each other’s eyes. Neither of you could find it.

However, there was one thing that was clear to both of you: whether through flames of salvation or damnation, you would burn for each other.

#gale dekarios #gale x tav #gale x reader #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #bg3 gale #bg3 brainrot #gale brainrot

[greenleaf9]

I keep seeing all these posts about Gale being a professor and I suddenly realized just what it is about them that I love so much. It’s because he’s become this archetype:

Adventure professor! 😍

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #gale brainrot

[weaveandwood]

I got a new PC with a better graphics card and CPU so naturally I spent all night screen recording kisses.

#bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale x tav #baldur's gate 3 #gale brainrot #what's that meme where its like girls will spend $2K on a machine that could launch a rocket and play the sims #its me i'm the meme #gale x auroria #weave and woods #my videos

[vesleskjor]

i know this has been said before but jesus fucking christ the noises i made here

MORE THAN HIMSELF FUUUUUUUUUUUUU

#I JUST WANT TO BE LOVED LIKE THIS ;_; #i legitimately can never date anyone now wtf larian #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale brainrot #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep

[stepharoni]

I'm sorry, but who gave them the RIGHT

#bg3 #bg3 tav #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #my tav's name is Auroria and she is a ranger and i love her #gale brainrot #i just got the act 2 romance scene and i swoon #who wrote this storyline give them 85 awards #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #galemance

[softestchaos]

Gale Dekarios

free digital prints on my ko-fi :)

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #bg3 art #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate gale #baldurs gate fanart #gale brainrot

[woodsnweaves]

Weave & Wood Chapter Two: Another Day, Another Goblin

Gale/Tav | Slow Burn | Read on AO3 | Chapter One

Summary:

Gale rediscovers his love of classical music in the middle of a swarm of angry goblins.

"He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The way she moved during battle was hypnotizing, almost like watching one of his beloved operas at the Lightsinger Theater in Waterdeep. Every arrow singing as it sailed through the air toward its mark, the cries of the enemy an orchestra, the clank of steel the applause. She, the conductor. "

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The way she moved during battle was hypnotizing, almost like watching one of his beloved operas at the Lightsinger Theater in Waterdeep. Every arrow singing as it sailed through the air toward its mark, the cries of the enemy an orchestra, the clank of steel the applause. She, the conductor. 

“IGNIS!” he bellowed, his voice taking on an echo as he fired off a basic spell at the goblin a few feet behind her, taking him down easily. She looked behind her shoulder, then at him and tipped her head in thanks before firing off another arrow into the courtyard. 

It felt like they’d been in this godsforsaken goblin camp for an infinite amount of time. How could so many goblins be in this one location? He had never seen so many in one place at one time at home, and never so many absolutely filthy ones - True Souls apparently didn’t require their followers to bathe. The only benefit to having a literal camp full of goblins, hobgoblins, drow, and ogres all intent on turning you into minced meat is that it allowed their group to become more cohesive in their fighting, like they’d been together on purpose and not solely thrust into each other’s lives. They weren’t quite a well-oiled machine, but they were getting there. Trust was forming. Especially for him. He’d taken the first step toward trusting Auroria after they left the grove on their mission to rescue the druid Halsin. After she stepped in to save a tiefling child from a power hungry, misguided druid intent on shutting out the world rather than protecting its most vulnerable. After he decided he was in enough peril to realize that he was vulnerable. 

That the group was vulnerable.

******

The group was taking a break in the shade on a rather warm afternoon as they embarked on their journey toward the blighted village between the grove and the goblin camp. He had been feeling the weight of his secret for some time since the crash landing of the nautiloid, and it was becoming unbearable - both the pain and the anxiety of his newfound group abandoning him. His intuition told him that the ranger would not judge him, so he found himself tapping on her shoulder as she took a drink of water from the barrel they had found in yet another busted cart on the road (Who was leaving all these supplies unattended in barrels and crates? He thought).

“I was wondering if I may have a word with you about something rather pressing…maybe a bit away from the group” He asked quietly, noticing a look of concern flash across Auroria’s face as the mask of his easy confidence and good humor showed a small crack. 

“Of course, Gale, what is it?” Auroria said, leading them a little further off the trail, so they could speak behind a tree. It did not pass by his awareness that she always seemed to seek out the comfort of the woods. The sun, dappling across her face as it made its way through the leaves, illuminated her features. The copper highlights in her hair, always twisted out of her face into a low tail at the nape of her neck, the golden flecks in those green eyes, the dotted tattoos on the high points of her face, the long scar down one cheek - the entire picture almost distracted him, catching himself staring. Perhaps one day she will trust him enough to share her past. 

Nerves he hadn’t felt in ages hit his stomach like five thousand butterflies. Vulnerability was not associated with as powerful a wizard as he was. This damned tadpole made him feel like his abilities were that of his 10 year-old self again, both magically and personally. Breathe.

“Right…well, you see, I have a…predicament..that has become rather urgent right now. The thing is, I need a magical artefact to consume,” he grimaced as a lance of pain went through his body,  “and I need one now.” He almost pleaded, hunching over and clutching his chest, beginning to pant as sweat beaded on his brow above his tightly closed eyes. He heard rustling, panic starting to worm its way into his chest.

Is she leaving? Please don’t leave.

He continued, “I know…it’s strange….but I — ” 

Silence.

I knew it. It was too much. It was too soon.

He opened his eyes, terrified to see nothing but empty space. A gold locket was in front of him, Auroria holding out the gift Arabella’s parents had given her for saving their daughter from the druid’s interrogation. 

“Will this work?” She asked. 

He nodded and took the necklace from her, gently as if it were a priceless gift. Indeed it was to him, a physical manifestation of gratitude and loss - the gratitude involved in both the tieflings and Auroria giving the locket away, the loss of its magical value, the implicit trust shown by not asking further questions, instantly looking for it in her pack - he would treasure this moment for the rest of his days, however many he had left.  As he held the locket up to his chest, the purple orb that was just barely visible above the lining of his robs starting to glow intensely. The locket started to shine, black tendrils of magic swirling around it, tighter and tighter until suddenly, they were gone and the locket was left dulled without it’s magical energy. He was able to breathe again, the sharp pain eased to a dull and manageable presence. The artefact worked. He felt her hand lightly touch his shoulder, and looked at her face, which was making that jokingly mocking expression that came so easily to her - mostly at his expense, he noted. 

“I don’t know what that was and while I hope you’ll share with me when you’re ready, I believe that’s now…” she held up two fingers on her free hand, “two favors you owe me now, right? You're really racking them up!” She laughed quietly, then took on a serious tone. “Take the time you need, though we should leave shortly. I hope this helps you feel better. If you need help again, please come to me. A magical item is not so irreplaceable as Gale of Waterdeep” she smiled and turned around, going back to the group, no questions asked. No prying. Just concern about him. The person, not the powers. 

An invisible weight lifted off his shoulders, one that he didn’t even realize he had placed there on his own accord during his year of solitude, his year of pushing everyone who may have wanted to help him away. 

He stood up straighter than he had in days and returned to the group.

******

Another arrow sang as it flew by, this time aimed toward a group of hostile goblins who were standing close together in a puddle of grease thanks to Astarion. The arrow turned into a volley of thorns, exploding, setting the grease on fire to deal additional damage. An aria of her own design, her personal cadenza - she could have chosen to simply cast Ignis to light up the grease, but a hail of thorns? That sends a message. A confident message. He could see her satisfied smirk as the shouts of surprise and anger joined her symphony for a brief while, then died out. Already she was moving on to the next target, the next movement - a rather large ogre Karlach was slowly whittling down. Gale followed, aiming his magic missiles at the heart of the ogre, adding to the coloratura of arrows, axes, swords, and curses (magical and vocal).

Gale of Waterdeep had lived in a world muted by his own doing for over a year. Now, he was beginning to hear music again. 

It was beautiful. 

Heavens help them all. 

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #named tav #fluff #slow #pining #gale dekarios #tav x gale #bg3 fic #gale fanfic #gale brainrot

[whimsiandwild]

I just had the weave scene with Gale and GOODNESS IM FLUSTERED. 😳

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

[nrvcntr]

Losing Everything

sooooo i haven't written fanfiction since i was a preteen but i got hit with a case of gale dekarios and could not rest until i wrote a really angsty thing about tav trying to move on from god!gale ......... that is all

“You may not wish to enter the heavens, but you do a fine job conjuring them here,” He said. Then he was gone, again. The God of Ambition, formerly Gale of Waterdeep, formerly Gale Dekarios. Somewhere in there had been a man that you loved dearly, but there was no trace of him now. Only a faint scent remained. The same one that stuck to your pillow and sheets and the bed that you shared, the scent that hung around you like smoke. When you were falling asleep and in that space between dream and wake, it was almost like he was still there. But when you reached out, you were met with the realization that you were alone yet again. 

So you moved on. The best you could, at least. You dove into your old work as a historian of ancient poetry. You translated what you could, but primarily focused on seeking out old texts to verify their authenticity. One of your recent interests was the poet Copperbloom, whose complete works were rumored to be hidden at one of the libraries in Amn.

On your first afternoon there,  you saw the temple dedicated to the God of Ambition. Like a magnetic force pushing you through, you walked in, taking in the sights of brilliant marble pillars and rich purple fabric adorning the walls. A testament to the power of ambition. It looked so clean that you were afraid your mere presence was a mark on its face. You looked at the altar of Gale, a looming, giant sculpture that looked like him and unlike him. Like a sculpture of a picture someone painted of a picture of Gale. The features were generally right, but it was missing his warmth. Something about the eyes and the smile were inconsistent to you, as though he was smiling at something painful. That wasn’t like the man you remembered. 

Your eyes closed, and that familiar scent drew you in. Here in this temple, it made sense that he felt so close. It was enough to break your heart again, but months of waking up alone had shattered it beyond repair. What else could you lose at this point? There was nothing left. You held a coin in your hand, ready to make an offering to the embodiment of ambition, when you heard a voice from behind you.

“Excuse me,” it said.

You turned, meeting the eyes of a handsome young elf.

“Is that a book of Copperbloom’s poetry you’re holding?” He asked. 

“Yes, it is,” You replied.

He told you that his name was Adlar, and that he was a fan of Copperbloom’s poetry. Excitement radiated from him, his eyes bright and alert when he told you that he was raised among the trees, and that Copperbloom eloquently captured the beauty of nature in a way that so few could. You slid the coin back into your pocket, enamored by the creature in front of you. He was awkward, sure, but a welcome distraction from your self-imposed isolation. 

“Would you like to talk about this more, somewhere more private?” You asked.

“I--Yes, I would like that very much. There’s a tavern around the corner, if you’d like to go,” He replied.

So you walked out of the Temple of Ambition with the handsome young elf on your arm, who chattered your ear off the entire way. After exchanging pleasantries about poetry, the basics of who you are and where you’re from, he asked if you were a devotee of Gale.

“No, I’m not. Are you?” You asked.

“Oh, yes, absolutely,” He replied, “He has given me everything. Before I learned of his doctrine, I was lost. Wandering around, wasting my potential. But now I have a purpose. I helped to build the temple, you know. And I’m leading the expansion.”

“An expansion? It’s one of the largest buildings in the city,” You remarked. 

“Yes, it is going to be the largest building in Faerun if I have anything to say about it. That’s the beautiful thing about ambition. It led me out of the forest and into places I had never even heard of or dreamt I could be. Like here,” He said, tentatively reaching for your hand. You allowed it. Adlar was the first person you touched since your electric goodbye kiss with a deity. Well, other than crying into Shadowheart’s arms for as long as she would let you. 

And so you began a love affair with the handsome young elf, slipping into a summer routine of balmy nights cooled by morning tea on the terrace, then separating to do a day’s work. You, toiling around libraries and bookshops in search of poems, and he leading the expansion in the temple. For the first time in a long while, you felt the comfort of a routine and a home.

You could still feel your former lover, his scent lingering on you no matter how hard you try to wash it away. At some point, it stopped feeling comforting and started to suffocate. You threw out your old clothes, ready to start something new. If you could change your hair and clothes and look like someone new, you thought, maybe you could start a new life. It may not be perfect, it may not have the magic of the Weave, but it could be yours. 

Well, until your dreams were dashed again. That God you had loved had once remarked about how easy it is to lose things, no matter how hard they are to gain. 

Adlar would meet you every night outside the temple. You never went back inside after your first visit. Until that night, that is, when thick black smoke blanketed the air and other devotees ran out, screaming about a collapse in the expansion wing. Instinctively, you ran toward the danger, passing the sculpture of Gale, whose smile looked menacing behind the haze of smoke. You approached the rubble where your elven lover would lay forever and begin feverishly clearing it again. Even after your fingers begin to bleed. Even when your hands ached. When someone picked you up to move you from the carnage, you kicked and screamed. But you knew. No one could survive under there. Especially not your gentle love, whose hands trembled that first night you held them. His bright eyes would never stare into yours again when you revealed your fears to him. You would never again wash the dirt from his hands after he delivered you a flower that Copperbloom compared her lover to in one of her famous poems. He was gone. A casualty of ambition. 

You broke from the grasp of the person holding you and ran toward Gale’s altar. You slammed a coin down. 

“Please, let me talk to you.” 

It was a plea, not a prayer. But he answered nonetheless. You found yourself in a strange state that seems real and unreal, beyond mortal comprehension. Gale stood in front of you, a bemused expression on his silver face. 

“You called?” He asked.

“What happened?” You ask in return.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Do not fuck with me, Gale. I know that you know what happens in your own temple.”

“Oh, right, the collapse. Hm. Such a shame. They were making great progress. You know how foolish mortals can be at times,” He replied flippantly. This set your teeth on edge. 

“Did you cause the collapse?” You asked.

“I could never, and I would never. You have my word. They knew the risks of what they were doing, and it was a dangerous endeavor.”

“But was the God of Ambition in their ears, telling them that the reward would be worth any risk?”

“Some risks are worth taking, you know,” Gale said.

“I do not need advice from you,” You replied.  

“Well perhaps you should heed some advice. You’ve been toiling your summer away laying about with some elf who is far beneath your station. What are you doing? Your mortal life is so short. You could be brilliant. You could do anything that you want. You could be anything you want to be. You could be -”

“A goddess?”

“Perhaps. If you wanted to be.”

“I don’t. I already turned down that offer.” 

Silence. 

“Why?” Gale asked.

“Because I loved the man you were, not the God you pretend to be,” You reply.

“I do not pretend. I am a God. And I did it for you. I did everything for you. And you repay me this way? You must know that I care for you because I would never let a mortal speak to me the way that you do.”

“Did you cause the collapse because you were jealous?” You asked. 

Silence. Whatever love you still had in your heart for the man was replaced by animosity for the God. 

“Answer me, damn you,” You demanded, reaching out to shove Gale’s chest. Lightning crackled when you made contact with him and you pulled your hand back in agony, cradling it with the other. 

“It is not wise to pick a fight with a God,” Gale warned.

“Why? If that is how you treat your most devoted followers then I would like to see how you treat a heretic,” You hissed. “Smite me, then, if what I say so offends you. Ambition is a curse. It has stolen everything from me. I will never bow to it. I will never honor it. I will never love it.” 

In that moment, you hoped he would strike you down. If only to take away his favorite toy. But he doesn’t. 

“I would never harm you,” He said.

“You have destroyed me,” You replied, “I want nothing to do with the God in front of me. I loved the man I knew. I will miss him for the rest of my days. And one day, I will be gone and I do not know what will happen or where I will go. But you will be here, alone. I hope it was worth it. Was it?” 

You stare at each other. No words could come out that would give either of you solace, and some wounds can never heal. Instead of a reply, you found yourself back at the smoky temple, surrounded by carnage. You walked out, never turning back even once to look behind. That night you crawled into your bed and stared at the wall, trying to will comfort out of the isolation. Finally, you were free from that scent. You were truly alone. At least when you’ve lost everything, nothing else can be taken from you.

Somewhere on some plane that mortals can’t comprehend, in a place that exists and doesn’t, the God of Ambition looked out at eternal nothingness. He had the powers of a God, powers that he had always dreamed of. 

But, the thought flickered in his mind. Perhaps he could have lived without them. After all, without you, what did he really have? Nothing, as far as anyone or anything could ever hope to see. 

#gale dekarios #gale x tav #gale x reader #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #bg3 gale #bg3 brainrot #gale brainrot #angst

[drudragonrose]

Because I can't leave the idea alone and I can't draw to save my life. Tsubaki and Gale's children.

Kikio Dekarios ~ Wild Magic Sorceress ~ she/her

She is the first of her siblings to show magic and this isn't a good thing. While the Karsic orb has been nulled it left something behind and nessled itself in Kikio. She tries to contain her magic, she really does but sometimes she just pops and chaos happens. She has known from a young age that it's very likely that she won't make it past her twenties with how erratic her magic, leading to her taking risks that others normally wouldn't. It's especially sad seeing as she and her siblings are half elves. "What the worst that can happen? I level Waterdeep and take the problem with me." She would totally use her condition and too much excitement as an excuse to get out of things like her father once did.

Genkai Dekarios ~ Conjuration wizard ~ She/Her

The second of the siblings to show a talent for the Weave. She learned it though, right after she learned how to read which was fairly early thanks to her father's efforts. She is a bit jelouse that while she had to harness the Weave to get it to do what she wanted Kikio could just do it on instinct. She wouldn't want her condition though. That and she doesn't think about it much. She got her mother's talent for alchamy which she uses to create healing potions to sell along when her conjuration magic isn't doing the trick.

Ai Dekarios ~ Kensei Monk ~ they/them

Ai never did show a connection with the Weave like thier sisters did. That didn't stop them from showing thier own talents. They met a Githyanki called Xan who was the child of an old friend of her parents and he showed them how to use thier first weapon, a dagger which brought the end of several mice that tries to invade the tower. It made a handy deturent for bullies if they tried to make fun of thier sisters. After they grew of age they traveled and found a master to teach they ways of the Kensei monks which they florished in. Ai is genderfluid and will sometimes present as male while other times present as female. Thier sisters will incinerate anyone who tries to give Ai greif about it.

@justanothersimsblog I had to seeing as I brought Tsubaki over to BG3 and it wasn't going to leave my head.

#bg3 #brain worms #gale brainrot #post game head canons #my tav #bg3 ocs #justanothersimsblog

[weaveandwood]

Weave and Woods Chapter Six: Inadequacies

Gale/Tav | Slow Burn | Read on AO3 | Entire Work

Summary:

The party ventures into the Underdark. Auroria starts to learn new spells with Gale and the two poorly navigate the feelings growing between them.

“That was very inspiring,” Gale leaned over and spoke softly into her ear before the rest of the party joined them on the platform. “We should pool our minds more often.” She felt the tips of her ears getting hot, her heartbeat speeding up. Gods, just the feel of his presence near to her, his breath on her neck had her imagining the most inappropriate things involving his mouth. She looked at him, and could tell he was thinking similar thoughts the way his mouth was quirked up at the corner, the slight darkness in his eyes giving him away. She saw the faintest tint of purple glowing from his orb through his robes - he was getting worked up. Time to come back to reality. She cleared her throat, and he took a step away. The orb dimmed immediately.

“Ora.”

It felt good, saying it. The first time in over 5 years she had considered allowing anyone to call her by anything other than her full name. Karlach had been complaining over breakfast that Auroria, being four syllables, was a lot to yell out in the heat of the moment in battle, so they should give her a nickname. She had one for everyone else - Fangs, Fringe, Lae, Gale, Wyll….okay, everyone with more than one-syllable names. Although Gale was sometimes “Magic Man,” which amused Auroria to no end. 

“Everyone used to call me Ora. It was a nickname my best friend gave me almost 20 years ago. When she died, I couldn’t stand the sound of it. It was too painful, too many memories. But now, with all of you, I think I’d like to go back to being Ora,” she said. She felt a hand in hers, squeezing softly in solidarity. Gale. She tried to suppress a smile, squeezing back before they both let go. 

“Ora it is then! But wait - if you’ve only had a nickname for 20 years, did your mom really only call you by your full name?” Karlach asked.

“My mother was not keen on shortening names, something about respect for the person who named you. She didn’t even like it when I tried to call her ‘mom,’ and I think she may have contemplated abandoning me if I attempted to call her ‘mommy,’” Auroria laughed. “So no, she never called me anything besides Auroria. Elves can be weird about the smallest things,” she shrugged, “or maybe it’s just mothers.”

The journey to the Underdark would be a long one from their camp near the monastery, and they had planned to leave just as the sunrise was starting to slant over the horizon. The group knew the road well, having to backtrack to the Goblin Camp again to use an entrance they remembered sensing during their initial trip. They took care of the ogre guarding the entrance when they cleared out the entirety of the camp, knowing they would have to return once Halsin recommended entering the Shadow-Cursed Lands via the Underdark rather than the Mountain Pass. 

Since she knew the area was secure, Auroria had lingered at the edge of camp, letting Wyll and Astarion take the lead. The two were diametrically different. Wyll was a hero in every sense of the word, even if he was in a pact with a devil. Auroria sensed there was more to the story about why he entered the deal with Mizora, but even though they were friends, he hadn’t opened up to the group about that yet. In time. Astarion was the definition of a rogue - cunning and clever. He bent the rules to suit his desires. Both outlooks on life were useful, and they were a good counterbalance to each other. 

Shadowheart, Lae’zel, and Karlach were in the middle of the pack. Shadowheart was actually smiling at something Karlach had said, which was both hard to believe and completely believable - Karlach was infectious, it was impossible to be in a bad mood around her, even for Shadowheart. Lae’zel was subdued, less militant than normal due to the events at the Creche the day before, followed by the appearance of Voss in their camp as they were all attempting to sleep. The previous night had been eventful. She tried to put the memory of holding Gale’s hand for hours out of her mind, but couldn’t stop replaying it all night long. She wasn’t sure anyone was fully rested as they ventured into areas unknown to all of them. 

“Coming?” Gale turned around, tilting his head to the side. “Everything okay?”

She smiled, hoisting her pack onto her shoulders and falling into step beside him. Though she was nervous, the thought of learning a few more spells, the cohesiveness of their party, whatever was budding between the two of them…she was full of hope. 

“Absolutely.”

That optimism carried her as they figured out the puzzle to enter the Underdark. Auroria and Gale stared at the spinning disks on the floor for several minutes, passing theories back and forth to each other on what they thought the best solution was while the others looked around this previously unsearched part of the ruined temple for precious supplies. 

Finally, it clicked. “What if…what if we spin these disks so they correspond to the phases of the moon?” Auroria said as she started moving the disks in a certain pattern, so each one was arranged to show four different moon phases - full, new, and half moons. Once she started getting going, Gale took the other half of the disks, both of them working together to complete the pattern. A faint rumble shook the room as the door to the Underdark opened. Auroria smiled, her hands on her hips, content with the satisfaction of solving something difficult.

“That was very inspiring,” Gale leaned over and spoke softly into her ear before the rest of the party joined them on the platform. “We should pool our minds more often.” She felt the tips of her ears getting hot, her heartbeat speeding up. Gods, just the feel of his presence near to her, his breath on her neck had her imagining the most inappropriate things involving his mouth. She looked at him, and could tell he was thinking similar thoughts the way his mouth was quirked up at the corner, the slight darkness in his eyes giving him away. She saw the faintest tint of purple glowing from his orb through his robes - he was getting worked up. Time to come back to reality. She cleared her throat, and he took a step away. The orb dimmed immediately.

******

Contrary to what everyone thought, the Underdark was not as depressing as it sounded like it would be.  There was bioluminescence everywhere, casting everything with a pale blue glow. It was magical, almost peaceful. That feeling was short lived, however, when they almost immediately came upon a Spectator and a group of drow led by a Dhourn of House…Something-or-other. He was dead now, it didn’t matter. What did matter is that these foes proved to be much more formidable than the enemies they were used to fighting above ground, even with their more honed skills. The party ended with more cuts, stabs, and bruises than they had been dealt in quite some time, and they limped their way back to where they decided to set up camp so they could access their stash of more potent healing potions and let Shadowheart do her magic. Gale walked beside Auroria, who had a deep cut on her arm from a reanimated petrified drow, and a scowl on her face.

“How’s the arm?” He asked. She looked a million miles away, and didn’t answer him like she usually would. He waved a hand in front of her face. “Ora? You want to come back to the material plane?” He tested out the nickname. He liked it. He never wanted to call her anything else - it suited her.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry, Gale. Just thinking. That was not our best fight,” she said, slightly dejected. 

“True. I’d never seen a Spectator before in person. Horrifying creatures up close." He could tell her mind was working through all the ways the battle could have gone, both good and bad. Best to bring her back to the here and now. "How’s your arm?” He asked again, nodding at her injury.

She looked at her arm, blood soaking through the gaps of her armor from the cut. “It’ll be fine, nothing worse than what I’ve had before, especially once Shadowheart gets her spells on it. We got lucky today, but we need to train more if we’re going to be operating so close to our enemies. Thank the gods you had the foresight to stay up on the higher levels to cast, we were really taken by surprise.” 

“Yes, I agree. A wizard is best kept at a  distance for maximum spellcasting effect, though I have spent the last year working on my quarterstaff technique during my isolation. A fine workout that has proven to be rather handy should any foe get too close,” he said as Auroria nodded. Were her ears turning pink again? He smiled to himself. They only seemed to do that when she got flustered. Emboldened by her physical reaction, he leaned toward her a little as they walked. “Maybe you and I could spar, for practice?” Her ear tips deepened to a dark red. He had to admit the thought of seeing her in action, her skills directed at him, caused a shiver of excitement to run through him. His orb protested, sending a needle prick of pain through his veins. He winced slightly, then noticed Auroria’s eyes glancing at where the orb was, the faintest hint of a purple glow again. They both had their tells, apparently. 

“Speaking of training,” she changed the subject, the furrow between her brows returning. “I’d like to start working on learning new spells. I need to know more than one, especially as our enemies get more and more powerful. Do you think we could start tonight?”

“I’d be delighted,” He replied, most enthusiastically. 

******

Auroria hadn’t been this frustrated and annoyed with herself in years. She forgot just how difficult learning a new spell was. She tried to tell herself that she hadn’t done it in over 20 years, but really, how had her mother had this much patience? And good gods, how did Gale ? 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I can’t get this,” She said, pacing back and forth as Gale flipped through the book on nature spells he had found at the monastery. They had settled on learning Ensnaring Strike, borrowing Lae’zel’s practice dummy that was set up on a rocky outcrop that was not too far from the campsite and surrounded by giant mushrooms and glowing trees. The spell wasn’t too different from Hail of Thorns, and would be useful for both ranged and melee attacks, if needed. 

She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. “You’re tense, you’re worked up from our fight this afternoon, we’re in a new environment, it’s…a lot. When I was young and found myself trying without success to untangle the Weave around a new spell, I would attempt to control my breathing, clear my mind, and focus on my connection to the Weave. Since you get your power from nature’s connection to the Weave, it’s a little different than drawing directly from it, but more or less the same concept. ‘Breathe in, breathe out, calm yourself’ was my mantra. Simple but effective. I said it many times a day when I first started at Blackstaff Academy. I still do, sometimes,” he said.

Auroria scoffed, “So, like when you were eight?”

Gale laughed, “Oh! No, when I was eight I thought I could just do whatever spell I wanted. Most of them went awry - just ask my mother about the neighbor’s incinerated rose bushes! Or the magma mephit I summoned instead of a tressym. When I was an apprentice though, I challenged myself to learn spells only the most advanced wizards used. Sometimes, after several failures, you just need to….take a break. It took a long time to get there, but I found that relaxing the tension within me would help me navigate the Weave with more control. Before that, there were a lot of explosions and portals to other planes opening,” he chuckled to himself.

Auroria groaned, dropping into a crouch with her head in her hands. “You were summoning creatures through portals at eight? You must feel like you’re in the presence of an idiot, then. I can’t even do a simple spell for, what did the book say again? Novice rangers and druids?” 

Gale crouched down in front of her. “No, what I’m saying is maybe you need a break. You’re not used to channeling magic, and you’ll burn out if you try to ignore these feelings. Believe me, I completely understand wanting to get it right away - that ambition is hard to put a damper on. But you need to pace yourself.”

“Says the celebrated boy genius wizard prodigy,” she muttered.

“It wasn’t all great, Auroria,” he said, quietly. 

She looked up, seeing hurt in his eyes. Shit, I did that. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to feeling so inadequate. Today really threw me and I’m taking my frustrations out on everyone but myself. And since you’re the only one here, you’ve become my target, not the dummy.” She reached out, taking his hand in hers. “I’m sorry, Gale.” 

She exhaled, puffing out her cheeks and looked around, eyeing a couple of the practice sticks set out by the practice dummy. “I’m tired of using my brain. I believe you mentioned sparring earlier?” She smiled as she got up, walking to the dummy and tossing him one of the lightweight staffs. “Let's see these skills you’ve honed.” 

Gale caught the staff easily in one hand, bowing to her, “As the lady wishes.” 

“Oh, I am the farthest thing from a lady, good sir, but I do wish,” she smiled as she started to circle him. 

The next hour passed easily. Gale won most of the rounds, not exaggerating his extensive training. Their match ended with Auroria on her back, Gale’s staff aimed at her chest, both of them panting, covered in sweat. She put up her hands, laughing, “I surrender!” Gale held out his hand for Auroria to take, pulling her up easily. He was stronger than she had assumed, and she lost her balance a little as she stood up faster than anticipated, crashing into his chest. 

They stared at each other, Auroria’s eyes darting from his eyes to his mouth, the bead of sweat running down the side of his temple. She could see his eyes making the same path on her own face - eyes, lips, sweat. The skin on her neck and ears burned, not just from the exertion of their practice. Gods, she wanted to kiss him so badly, to feel his lips against hers, his breath on her skin, his hands…oh hells, his hands everywhere. She wanted to hold her breath, for this moment to never end. He held her hand tightly to his chest, closing his eyes as if he wanted to freeze this moment as well. 

“Gale -”

“Ora, I -” a wince, another faint glow. He took a step backward, the glow fading again. “I can’t.” He dropped her hand and took another step back. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. 

He turned and headed back to camp.

Auroria stood alone in the training area, brow furrowed as she watched Gale retreat. She picked up her bow and an arrow and turned back to her initial task. Breathe in, breathe out, calm yourself. Breathe in, breathe out, calm yourself, she repeated mentally before firing an arrow at the base of the training dummy. She focused her energy, her sadness, her frustration into the concentration aspect of the spell. The ground rumbled, vines popping up from the ground wrapping around the figure, thorns piercing the cloth body. 

“I did it!” She gasped, then looked around beaming, laughing to herself, raising her bow overhead in celebration as she realized she cast the spell successfully. She looked around for Gale, forgetting for a moment that he had already gone back to camp and she was truly alone. Again. She dropped her bow to her side as the vines retracted back into the ground. “I did it,” she whispered. She turned and left the training area, a new determination settling over her. She refused to let hopelessness overtake her, and she wouldn’t let Gale run away from this thing they were both very obviously feeling toward each other, orb be damned. 

#gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #named tav #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #gale x tav slow burn #tav x gale #gale fanfic #gale brainrot #my writing #my screenshots #gale x auroria #auroria galanodel #weave and woods #weave and woods fic

[vesleskjor]

my brain everytime i open the game for the last two days. i may have a problem.

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

[an-excellent-choice]

So I see a lot of tags on Tav scaring or intimidating the Gale's student when they see how strong or learn their backstory.

I counter propose these headcanons with Gale's students being immediately scared of Tav.

Either from being a drow, gith, dragon born, half orc, fucking giant of a person, face covered in scars, face tattoos or mouth filled with sharp teeth. Or their eyes there is something with their eyes.

This is Professor Dekarios' spouse?!?

The one that he always gushes about? Students start thinking he's delusional and poor mr.dekarios he must be captured or fooled by this monster.

Until one day they see Tav looming at the university gates waiting for Gale. Someone was about to ask them to leave as they are scaring the students when Professor Dekarios comes rushing down the university stairs

"Taaav~ My love. Apologies for my delay..."

Gale kisses Tav's cheek and just chatters on happily on why he was late while he grabs Tav's bag to carry (he is a gentleman) And the students see Tav just melting and softly smiling at Gale's gesture.

The students realize that oh Professor didnt get caught by Tav, it was Tav that was caught by Professor Dekarios.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 gale #baldur’s gate 3 #gale bg3 #bg3 headcanons #bg3 brainrot #brainrot making me go brrrr

[woodsnweaves]

Weave & Wood Chapter 3: In the Heart of the Woods

Gale/Tav | Slow Burn | Read on A03 | Read entire work

Summary:

Auroria opens up about her past and gets comforted by Gale. A sunrise begins a new day.

It should have been a relatively easy day, not the first time they'd done this, but Auroria’s plan backfired and her friend was gone and she was alone. Again. Everyone she loved was gone too soon.

“Ora. Ora, wake up, time to move.”

Pulling on armor. Readying weapons. The small group of yuan-ti were getting close, according to the scouts. Now was the moment. 

Silence as the two best friends steeled themselves for a fight.

“You take the north side and I’ll head south to flank them.” Nodding. Just like the plan.

“We’ll meet up afterwards and have some wine to celebrate another easy mission,” the voice said, disappearing off into the woods, the sun shining off her dark green hair, long and in its signature high braided ponytail, pulled tightly off her face. 

A loud boom. 

Auroria woke up with a start, not realizing where she was. It wasn’t quite dark, but the sun hadn’t crested over the horizon. The now familiar shades of her light blue tent brought her slowly back to reality. She ran her hands down her face as the dream she hadn’t had in months ran through her mind. 

Zephia. Her best friend, her almost sister. Zephia’s family had taken her in as an adolescent. The girls were inseparable, training together, flirting with people together, making plans for the future together, trying out for the High Forest Scouts together. 

Zeph was a natural choice - her family had deep connections to magic, and she had a natural gift when it came to the Weave. She had easily been accepted into their ranks as an arcane wielder, the path that had been laid out for her the entirety of her life. Auroria didn’t have a great talent for magic, but she made up for it with a mind for strategy and impeccable aim with a bow, so she joined as a ranger, hunter rank. Zephia and Auroria found themselves on assignment together most of the time, the time spent training together making them an almost unstoppable team. Zeph and Ora were formidable, with growing reputations. A typical assignment came through as they were summoned to track and hunt a pair of yuan-ti who were getting too close for comfort. It should have been a relatively easy day, not the first time they'd done this, but Auroria’s plan backfired and Zeph was gone and she was alone.

Again.

Everyone she loved was gone too soon.

Tears welled up in her eyes. No. Not now, not here. She pressed her hands against them, but when the tears threatened to spill over, she peered out of her tent. Quiet, aside from the gentle sound of snores. Good, no one is awake. If her body was going to force her to feel her feelings, at least she’d watch the sunrise while doing it - maybe on that little outcropping of rock close by she took note of as they set up camp early yesterday evening, everyone exhausted from their victory at the goblin camp the day before. She began the ascent as she remembered climbing hills with Zeph, remembered training on cliffs by the seaside with her mother one summer. Memories of those who were no longer with her. Memories she had tried to forget with solitude and drown with wine. Tears quietly worked their way down her face, her emotions no longer consenting to being hidden away, being locked in the recesses of her mind. No, they demanded release, but Auroria would not fully grant their request until she was alone. Away.

There was already someone on the overlook. The disappointment and frustration Auroria felt go through her was palpable. Gale sat there, legs dangling over the edge, his brown wavy hair blowing in the slight breeze, looking contemplative as he rubbed a hand over his chest. A welcome view most days, she would admit to only herself, but not this morning when she craved solitude. A cry broke through and escaped her mouth before she could cover it with her hand and tamp it down and be the leader everyone had come to expect her to be. He turned, startled by the noise. 

“Are you ok? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He stood up quickly, his knees popping as he rushed over to her. He put his hands on her shoulders, giving her a once over to look for injuries, finding none. She looked at his face, his brows furrowed, his warm eyes flitting over her, so earnest in his concern for her that she allowed herself to accept it. Accept vulnerability. Auroria leaned into his chest and let go. 

Gale froze, unaccustomed to this side of her. Her shoulders shaking, sobs wracking her body, tears leaving wet marks on his purple night shirt. He went to wrap his arms around her, hesitating against that human instinct to comfort for his own reasons, finally settling on patting her back as she cried. Minutes passed, though it felt like seconds to him. How long had it been since he’d let another get so close? She finally pulled back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, her face red and splotchy from crying. 

“Thank you, Gale,” she said, giving him a halfhearted smile and sniffing. “I wasn’t planning on sobbing into another person’s chest this morning, but here we are.” She moved back a step, breaking the contact between them, and thought she saw disappointment flash across Gale’s face.

“Bad dream?”

She nodded. “I dreamed of my best friend. I haven’t in months, I thought I had moved on. It was my fault she died…a stupid mistake…” She trailed off, moving to sit on the edge of the overlook, her knees up to her chest as she wrapped her arms around them. 

Gale sat by her, leaving a few respectable inches between them. “Unless you purposefully murdered her, which in my brief friendship with you seems highly unlikely, you are not the person to blame for her death. If you don’t mind me asking, what happened? Only if you’re up for talking, of course,” he said gently. His voice was so soft, comforting. She felt the tension within her, the constant pull she felt of being torn between keeping everything inside or trusting others. She remembered how brave Gale was when he came to her about his secret. Maybe it wouldn’t be that hard to open up to someone. One person is a start. 

“Okay.”

Deep breaths, Ora. A name she hadn't called herself in years.

“Zephia and I were High Forest Scouts. And we were good - really good. Five years ago, a hunt went bad. I had a plan. My plans always worked. Until they didn’t. And I lost my best friend because of it.” A tear ran down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly. “Then I thought about my mother who died when I was 17, my father who died when I was 3, and then I thought about us. Our group. Our friends. What if a decision I make kills one of us…or all of us?” She looked at Gale, her chin started to tremble, tears tumbling from her eyes. “I know I’m the leader and I’m supposed to have it all together, and usually it’s fine. I am just...out of sorts this morning. I spent the last five years on my own after I left the Scouts, taking jobs as they came, drinking my way through the forest and the frontier. Then I get kidnapped and now I’m surrounded by people. People to help, people to save, people who look to me. And I like it - no, if I'm being honest, I love it. I love helping people. I've always been put on a path to help others, but there's so much pressure, Gale. What if I disappoint them? What if I lose you all? I can’t go back to being alone and…purposeless again,” she leaned forward, resting her head in her hands, elbows propped on her knees.

He sat with her, letting her bare her anxieties while providing quiet comfort and a friendly ear. The sun began its journey over the horizon. A new day. “You have had more than your share of grief, that is certain. I will not tell you how to move through it, only that you are a strong woman, one of the strongest I know. You do not have to shoulder this all on your own - we can help take a little bit of weight off your shoulders, as you have done for all of us. You do not have to encumber yourself when we are each capable of carrying more.” 

The sun rose further, bathing the world in delicate pinks and oranges as birds started to sing in greeting. She wiped her face, nodding, truly feeling lighter than she had in years. Maybe she would give it a try.

“You know, you give really good advice. I didn’t think that was in a wizard’s wheelhouse.” She sniffed. “Why were you up so early? Trouble sleeping? Is it the magic hunger again?”

He smiled softly, rubbing his chest again as he looked out across the land, “Indeed. After you gave me the second artefact in the goblin camp, the hunger wasn’t sated like it had been the first time. Then already needing a third one last night? That’s a faster pace than it has ever been, with no calming effect. So, I’ve been out here for a couple of hours trying to work up the nerve to do what I need to do” He sighed, leaning back, the sunlight catching on the few grays he had framing his face. Auroria stared, noting just how handsome he looked in the dawn light. Just because he's good with magic doesn’t mean you won't eventually get him killed. If you want him to live, do not fall for him. 

He looked over at her, catching her staring, only this time she didn’t look away. Gods, she was so beautiful. The dawn bathing her in its soft, warm light brought out the green in her eyes. He swallowed. You cannot fall for the first person who is kind to you, especially when they don’t know anything about your past. 

He stood up, offering her a hand. 

“I have something to tell you. To tell everyone. It’s time you all knew about Gale’s Folly and the Netherese Orb.”

#bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #gale x tav #named tav #gale of waterdeep #gale brainrot #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #bg3 fic #gale fanfic #galemancer #my screenshots

[malacandrax]

Halsin with all the orphans in the epilogue would not get out of my head. What if Astarion was one of them, orphaned after the events of act 3. I think he'd be an upper city baby, mostly cared for by his nanny (and cat).

#late stage brainrot #halsin #astarion #kidstarion #? #i know this is insane i know...i needed to draw something even more comfy than bat form ok #halsin dates gale in this AU >:) #(more art coming...)

[shimishami]

Felt inspired. Sloppily made this meme on my phone, but godsdamn, is it accurate.

#baldur's gate 3 #the brainrot is real #im dying #of fun #bg3 #astarion #shadowheart #wyll ravengard #gale dekarios #halsin #karlach cliffgate #lae'zel #npc