#edit: talked to Mystra

[melviships]

(sees all the shit everyone is going through) (sees I have to support the batshit decisions they make in order for them to be romanced / favored) mm, ah, okay, sure

[deathishauntedbyhumans]

roommate told me to make this i live to serve

[amandacanwrite]

More Headcanons for the Gale Babes: Pining Edition

Tagging At Their Request: @eclecticqueennerd @jeneralmischief @thewizardhole

Tagging Because I Thought You May Want To Know I posted It: @lewdisescariot @ollypopwrites @rissi-chan @foreskinfinder87

Here are some headcanons about Gale behind the scenes as he pines for you/Tav (Goodnatured, Gender Neutral) Bear with some things that are just regular ole canon for a moment and then I will get into the headcanony stuff near the middle.

Upon Your First Meeting

"I'm Usually better at this." "At Introductions?" "Hah...At magic."

Safe to say that he was well aware of just HOW much trouble he was in very shortly after beginning to travel with you.

The words "Do NOT do this to yourself, you ridiculous, touch-starved man," may or may not have been said to the mirror...or to a mirror double of himself.

But godsdamnit, you just had to continue being...kind and courageous and well spoken and your eyes...and your lips and Focus--FOCUS GALE DEKARIOS

And hells, what a world it would be if he could stop putting his foot so squarely into his mouth.

"Gods, Gale. Really did a number with that thing you said, didn't you? They probably thing you're pompous--which you are--perhaps rightfully so, you are a very gifted wizard..."

He uh...talks to himself a lot. Old habit from the tower, you see. You only catch him doing it a couple of times though, and rarely hear what he said.

"Oh, just thinking out loud, you know!"

Once He's Gotten To Know You A Bit

"Go on, Gale. You're among Friends." "I may just be about to remedy that."

It's hard to pin point the exact moment he fell in love with you. But the realization was nothing short of devastating for him.

As a younger man, he may have been brought to tears reading a tragedy like his. Abandoned by a former lover, forsaken in a plight brought on by wishing to do her a grand gesture, falling for a simpler love...one he may never have because of the orb threatening to level a city in his chest.

Sometimes at night, he watches you asleep in your bedroll, wondering if he had met you as a young man...if he'd perchance seen you on the streets of Waterdeep or sitting at the bar in The Yawning Portal perhaps he'd never wound up in this position in the first place.

Perhaps he would have simply been chosen by Mystra, and not have fallen in love with her.

It feels wrong...even to think it. He wonders if Mystra can sense the betrayal in those thoughts--in the wish that he'd never fallen in love with her.

But it's hard not to feel that way when he has to spend every waking moment next to you.

And when he watches everyone else in camp seemingly falling over themselves to get to you as well.

He makes his peace with the fact that there is simply no way that he can compete with the pale elf who is constantly making eyes at you...calling you darling.

He remembers meeting people like that in school. He remembers burying himself in his studies to distract himself from the fact that he'd never felt particularly charming or even efficacious in matters of the heart.

Of course that all changed when Mystra chose him. Before he'd wooed her, he'd managed to have a few dalliances as a teen, even going into his early adulthood.

But you're the first he's ever wanted to have something with since Mystra had forsaken him.

He still carries the charm he'd cultivated. It's hard not to get at least a little full of yourself when the goddess of magic herself chooses you. Harder still to drop the habit after he'd committed to it, even while sequestered to his tower.

He'd been deep in thought on these matters when you checked in on him one night.

"Nothing to worry about. Just a wizard stewing on matters of the arcane and curious, I assure you."

When he finally has to reveal the truth of his affliction to you and the others in the party, he's devastated all over again. He's ready to once again be banished for his crimes, to be newly punished for his folly, however well intentioned he was in acquiring it.

But...you simply don't... It seems you never do what he expects because you hardly bat an eye. Even when Astarion tells you to kick him to the proverbial curb, you let him stay.

It's that night he conjures the image of Mystra in his hand, turning it this way and that to see if it still hurts to look upon her as it used to.

When you wander over to inquire about her visage, he is relieved to find it doesn't bother him to speak of her, and daunted by the ache in his chest that you seem to inspire in him.

He keeps trying to find a way to tell you how he feels, but he simply can't form the words without choking on them.

Until that night with the teiflings...and well...let's just be honest, the generously flowing alcohol.

He just wants to share a moment with you--a foolish idea to help you experience the weave using him as a conduit. A bit cheeky he realizes--knowing perhaps better than you might the sort of sensual, intimate nature that being connected through the weave can be. But he can't help it, it is the only relief he can find for this torturous pining. To be allowed to be of one mind with you for just a fleeting second is too tempting to refuse.

When You Imagine Sharing A Kiss With Him

"I'm sorry...I wasn't expecting...but it is a pleasant image to be sure. Most pleasant, in fact. Most welcome."

How can he convince himself that he won't immediately ruin this? Does he even remember how to kiss? God's it's been so long.

He lies in his tent, banging the heel of his hand against his forehead.

"You should have just kissed them, you damned fool. How long have you wanted this? And apparently they want it, too. And you were linked with the weave! What could have been more perfect? Why didn't you just kiss them, you blithering idiot."

When he doesn't kiss you for a while, you worry you may have made him uncomfortable with the thought. Really, he simply can't find the perfect time between all of the bloodshed and bandages.

He gets sloppy in battle, too worried that someone will take you way before he has a chance to make good on that dream you shared with him. Not the best course of action for a man who can literally implode in the event that he dies.

And then he had to go and say that stupid thing about danger and...other forms of stimulation.

"Perhaps," he tells himself one night. "Perhaps, Gale of Waterdeep, you will actually make a gesture more than a silly joke and a stammering admission of liking to kiss. Your actions so far have not hinted that you will, but perhaps there is hope for you yet."

In the end it's a night where you're near out of provisions that gives him the opportunity to close this blasted distance betwixt you.

He's having a melt down of sorts. About the lack of decent food in camp. How is he to feed all of you with nothing but a few half-eaten apples and a fish head?

You suggest a walk, not far from camp. You're sure you can scrounge up some berries, or some tubers--maybe even a squirrel or a rabbit. In truth, you're not sure you'll find anything, but you can sense that Gale needs time away. Needs privacy. Needs space to simply feel things without an audience.

After walking in silence for a while you ask him if he's alright.

"No. No I am categorically not alright. Not at all. I am filthy. I am covered in goblin blood. The orb refuses to be sated. I cannot find a way to properly feed you so that you'll have the strength to fight another day. And on top of it all--rounding out the depths of my misery--you so bravely showed me the intimacy you wanted to share, yet I cannot for the life of me figure out how to adequately stage that moment so that it is worthy of the splendor that you are."

It's hard not to be touched by his admission, but you don't want him to be miserable. So you make it easy for him. You simply stride up to him and plant a kiss on his lips.

"Is that better?" you ask him. "Now you needn't fret about the last thing."

His simply...gawks at you. Stares in utter befuddlement, his mouth slightly agape. For a moment, you're certain you've broken the poor wizard. You almost have the urge to wave your hand in front of his face to see if his soul has left his body. Then he smears his hand down his face and groans

"NO," he says. "No it is not better. That is not a proper first kiss worthy of how I feel about you. I can do much better than a first kiss like that."

You remind him that that was technically your first kiss with him. He is welcome to show you how it is properly done.

You expect the slow burn with him--expect him to have to ponder that for a few days, perhaps even a few weeks, before he makes good on it.

But he has had enough of waiting. He drops his bag off to the side and unstraps his bow from his back in a quick flurry of movement. He reaches for you, gently grasping the soft curves of your face and pulling you toward him, claiming your mouth with his own.

It is a frantic, desperate thing, this kiss. Simultaneously overwhelming and buoyant. You find yourself lifting up onto your toes and leaning against him as he tilts his head, seeking some opening to taste you, to feel you on his lips.

Your knees buckle, and his hands move from your face to catch you, crushing you against him as if he wishes to match every curve of you to every corresponding curve of his own body.

His lips are soft, though they are posessive. When you finally allow him across the threshold of your lips, he tastes like that fragment of weave you shared with him. He tastes of pure connection.

And then, just like that moment, it is over. You're left panting and weak as he holds you against his chest, his face flush, his brow gently curved with worry.

You blink dreamily up at him. "Oh." you say.

"'Oh?'" he asks incredulously. "Please tell me you have more to say than 'Oh.' Or at least specify the quality of that 'Oh.' Hells, if I'm to get any sleep at all--"

You simply lift your fingers to his lips, pressing the tips to quiet him. "Consider me properly schooled in how it's meant to be done," you say. "You're an excellent teacher."

He heaves a sigh. "Oh," he says. "I know."

I hope you enjoyed this! I'm sorry if it's not as satisfying since it's a lot of like...subtext for canon things. I have more Ideas but this is already quite long. Do let me know if you would still like to see more or if you have anything you'd like to see or expand on with an actual small fic. I have been having so much fun with these.

[galesdevoteewife]

Let’s talk about Mystra

Hello everyone, I wanted to talk about Mystra👋🔮

As much of a crazy lover as I am for my fictional wizard, the more lore research I do, the more I feel like Mystra deserves some love too. This goddess lives a cursed life. I know I know she asked Gale to kill himself, but bear with me; here are my arguments:

A bit history of Mystra

There’re 3 Mystra: Mystryl -> Mystra (Elminster’s Mystra) -> Mystra (Midnight)

In short, Mystryl is the fourth deity in the universe, composed of Shar & Selûne’s essence. She is one of the primal existences while the universe is still new and trying to settle down, a significant component of the universe itself. While Mystryl’s spirit was born naturally, Mystra and Midnight were both once mortal and raised by AO to inherit Mystryl’s power.

Is Mystra bad?

Midnight, “Mystra 3rd ” is who we met in BG3. She was a human magic user born in 1332 DR. Midnight was aiding Mystra 2nd at the time of troubles. She’s a kind-hearted and humble woman who ascended in 1358 DR. She didn’t want godhood at all; she only did it to counter Cyric, the bad guy.

From comic book Avatar (1991)

For decades, she even tried to allow only the good use of magic, later learning her duty and place as the guardian of balance and impartial arbiter of the Weave; no matter how Midnight feels or hopes things could have been. She was only 26 when she had to wave goodbye to everyone she knew, shouldering the 24/7 goddess duty. It’s true that she will inherit other Mystra’s memory, but personality-wise she is only 160 years old; even Halsin is older than her. (Not to mention she spent 94 years in dormant)

Note[1]: Later on all the Mystra mentioned I will be talking about Midnight

Note[2]: Dec17/2023 I will come back and edit this section; it's misleading according to Ed Greenwood's tweet. The current Mystra is likely a blend of all three Mystras with an unspecified proportion. I will provide details on the stories and deeds of the other Mystras.

Being Mystra sucks. Truly.

Imagine your body is just a thing lying on the street; anyone can command you to dance for them so long as they know the right spell. While you CAN reject it, you are NOT ALLOWED to.

What’s worse is that too many mortals and too many gods want the Weave, but it’s not something that she can “give”. Like no one can give away their body to someone else. She IS the Weave; I think of it as the Weave being the cells that compose her. Whoever wants to take it away will have to separate her mind and “body” by:

killing her and inherit the Weave, where all the attempters failed step 2, then only resulted in a broken/Weaveless crisis

or completely manipulating her mind, which is the option no one ever considers; they all go straight to killing her

Whenever DnD wants to change the rules, they kill Mystra.

Shar wants the Weave, Bane wants it, countless mortals want it too. According to the conversation between Gale and Lorroakan, it’s almost a common conversation trying to dethrone the goddess and take the power for themselves.

And no one is there to protect Mystra; she fights alone. Although she has a good relationship with gods like Selûne or Azuth, nobody lent a hand when she was murdered. She relies on her chosens and her own power.

On top of defending herself, aka protecting the Weave, another important duty is to maintain the Weave. Whenever a spell is cast, it damages the Weave, and she is the one to patch the holes. The more powerful the spell is, the bigger damage it will cause. That’s why her dogma includes “Use the Art deftly and efficiently, not carelessly and recklessly.” She also needs to keep an eye out for possible upcoming threats. A tough and tedious job, and no holidays for the goddess.

It might sound a bit twisted, but she is taking care of the world by taking care of herself. Anything happening to her means catastrophe for the world. (e.g., Spellplague, where magic caused mutations to the users, see wiki here)

But she asked Gale to explode himself!

Yes, and she also promised Elysium once he’s dead. There is actually a thorough afterlife setting in the Forgotten Realms DnD setting. In short, a spirit doesn’t perish when a mortal dies; it would be drawn to the Fugue Plane and wait for the god they prayed to in life to send a servant to take them to their heaven.

It’s a terrible fate for the faithless or false spirits, those who either defy their gods or never choose one. They are forever punished in this grim plane and even become part of the Wall of the Faithless.

Fugue Plane and Wall of the Faithless: those are spirits piling up into a wall

In Mystra’s case, her heaven is Elysium, judging by the name, you can already tell it’s likely a heavenly place. Significantly better than the Fugue Plane, that’s for sure.

It’s a fixed truth that all will die someday, and Gale’s afterlife options are:

Defy Mystra: When he dies, he will be forever punished as a false in the Fugue Plane. Not to mention Kelemvor, Lord of the Dead, is also Midnight Mystra’s former(?) lover, and he detests cowardice.

Defy Mystra and try to gain favor from another god: I think this will mean changing class and profession for him, as a wizard he is tied to Mystra after all.

Serve Mystra and be taken to Elysium: And who knows, since he is chosen of Mystra, she might even revive him someday. Mystra 2nd did that for her other chosen before. Note: Interesting reading about how her chosen become weaveghost after death, see wiki here.

Obtain godhood: When the god Gale dies, he will go through a completely different process.

An interesting thought here is whether Gale knows about all these. It will largely define what his true colors are. It wouldn’t make sense if he is completely ignorant of afterlife logic, though. His background is an experienced wizard (probably studied some necromancy), goddess ex, and apparently visited heavens before.

Is Mystra power-thirsty?

I wouldn’t say so. She is already OP, and AO asked her to nerf herself by sharing and storing power in her chosens. Even if she were to gain more power, she is not allowed to keep it.

She wants the Shadow Weave

She sees Shar’s secret creation, the Shadow Weave, as a threat and aims to eventually subsume it into her portfolio, even if that means sacrificing her last remaining goodness and humanity.

From the DnD book “Faith & Pantheons”

We see how Shar is using her Shadow Weave in the cursed land, and it's safe to say it's not an ideal living environment for most beings. Shar has been very keen to kill Mystra and take over her power; I don’t think the world would be a better place in her hands than in Mystra’s.

She wants the Karsite Weave

The same logic could apply to the Karsite Weave. While we can argue whether Gale has a good heart and can be trusted with godlike power, he did show some concerning traits, did he not? Maybe in the future, when he is wiser and calmer, that's how I read Mystra’s line when she tells him to be patient.

Why doesn’t she just cure him since she can?

This is 100% headcanon. I think Mystra as a goddess is able to foresee some future. In Elminster’s story series, Mystra 2nd often asked him to do things that seemed irrelevant but were actually needed in the future. In Gale’s case, could it be that’s what Midnight meant to do? To mentor and humble him? Even prepare him to go through this journey? (Hardly imagine the prime archmage Gale joining our little merry band, and Elminster did say, “Mystra was anything but idle- she chose you as her champion.” What could that means?)

Gale has a curve where he goes from being “irked by untalented apprentices” to “enjoying teaching a lot” if not using the crown. He could have been relying on magic too much, and his ego or pursuit of power had led him astray from his good nature. If you look from this perspective, offering to use the orb before the final battle could be him still having doubts about the team's ability and having more faith in magic aka his own power (mixed with his deep love for everyone that he'd rather die than see their lives wasted, of course).

She is a terrible lover, and she doesn't care about Gale at all

According to patch 5, how time feels in the outer plane is very different from the material plane. God Gale came back in 6 months, and he seems not aware that it has been months. With this logic and putting myself in Mystra's shoes, she got mad because Gale recklessly activated a magical nuclear bomb and ignored him for a couple of weeks.(~1 year in the mortal world) When they meet again, this grumpy jumpy bean is thinking of the possibility of killing her for her powers already. Excuse me???

I will say there could be more considerate ways to handle this subject other than asking him to bomb himself. This long-distance cross-race romance was very problematic, but I will reserve my opinion on how much love she holds for Gale. Probably not seeing him as an equal partner, of course, but drawing the conclusion that she doesn't care a tad about his well-being might be too hasty, in my opinion.

A screenshot of Mystra telling Gale that she wasn't the one who took his gifts away from him. That's not an expression of 0 sympathy to me. I've never seen her make this face except for this line.

*UPDATE on Dec 11/2023* Add a tweet from Ed Greenwood, the creator of the Forgotten Realms. Ref: X

*UPDATE on Jan 11/2024* • Add a screenshots during Gale's meeting with her • Add a note on DnD weaveghost setting *UPDATE on Apr 15/2024* • An great analysis of Gale & Mystra's relationship and Mystra's behavior logic

-DISCLAIMER- I am very new to the DnD world, but these are what I dug up and puzzled together. I could be very, very wrong, but please be kind; I did all this out of love for my wizard 💜💜💜

[sllverchariot]

How do you think gale would be with a drow partner? Like he’s always hearing people talk badly about drones and maybe even his partner getting refused service at a in because they’re a drow?

this is maybe (definitely) out of character and perhaps (definitely) needs some edits but it has been in my drafts far too long and i needed to get it OUT. enjoy !!! :)

word count: 2.8k

Gale had found you, the love of his life, his great love, in truly the most unexpected circumstance. You, his sun and his moon and every one of his stars, the one who inspired him to continue on, discovered in an utterly dark patch of his life.

He fell in love with you slowly, at first. His life had grown beyond dreary with the addition of his orb; locked away in his tower for all that time with no one other than Tara to keep him company. Too scared to get close to anyone for fear of the volatility of his condition, not to mention the broken heart he was still nursing.

But meeting you, being around you, felt like a glimmer of hope in the otherwise dark pit he found himself in.

First, he was just grateful to have someone to talk to, and then even more so when you let him ramble uninterrupted without even a snide comment.

Then, his fondness of you only grew, following your unwavering acceptance of his need to consume magic items, despite the fact that you’d quite literally just met him.

Each time his need became too great, you were always right there, with magic for him to absorb and a smile on your face as you handed it over. The only hesitancy being from concern, which was so clearly written on your face each time.

The last time he absorbed an item, the moment he realized his condition was truly worsening, when he finally opened up to you and told you of his plight, allowed you to truly see inside his past, was when he became quite sure. He’d fallen for you, totally and completely. When you placed your hand on his chest, feeling the powerful magic rippling beneath the surface, he prayed you wouldn’t also feel the unbelievable pounding of his heart along with it.

You’d drawn him in completely. When he was with you, it felt like you were the only two people in the world. Every worry, every stress seemed to melt away completely. When he was with you, he didn’t think about Mystra, or the orb. He was only thinking of you, and how lucky he felt to even be in your presence.

But Gods, if he wasn’t scared of what that meant. Surely he couldn’t allow himself to get too close to you, not with the orb being as unpredictable as it was. He absolutely couldn’t risk hurting you, refused to allow even the thought of letting you in harm’s way. He’d be content to watch you from afar, taking in your every little detail and reveling the moments he was graced with your presence. He’d spend his days yearning for you, his nights dreaming of you, and convince himself that was enough.

This all changed, however, with the unexpected arrival of Elminster, and the devastating message he brought along.

This painted things in an entirely new light.

He had spent so long pining for Mystra, praying for her forgiveness, that she might have a change of heart one day and welcome him back to her. Thinking he’d do anything to be back in her good graces. But when that opportunity presented himself, truly all he could think about was you.

If he’d been sentenced to death by the goddess as his final form of retribution, he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to use his final days to show you just how much you meant to him.

You, who made him feel alive again. Who showed him what love was supposed to feel like. Who somehow made what should have been his worst days into his very best days. He would do all that was within his power to show you just how important you were.

His feelings toward you had never once been in question; he knew he was going to like you from your very first meeting. And every interaction thereafter only reinforced that idea. It had never occurred to him that not everyone would be immediately drawn in by you, that perhaps not every person you encountered would be instantly infatuated. By your heart of gold, your endlessly witty sense of humor, your unwavering commitment to that which you believed in.

Your drow heredity had never truly crossed his mind in any meaningful way, except perhaps briefly upon your introduction, a fleeting thought on the subject. Besides, your group had encountered several drow along your journey thus far, it was truly not so out of the ordinary.

To Gale, something as surface level as that was never at the forefront of his mind, particularly regarding you. He’d have loved you if you woke up tomorrow as an ogre, or a goblin, and he’s quite sure he would have fallen for you still if you’d been that way from the start.

In his mind, for anyone to strip you down and view you only as the stereotypes of your kin was inconceivable. He pitied those that would look upon you and make their judgements without ever truly knowing the complexities that lie beneath. So when exactly that happened, right before his eyes, he was floored.

It had been one long, exhausting day in an even longer and more exhausting journey. Everyone was at their wits end, tired and bruised and bloody. When suddenly, there was a beacon of hope in the darkness. Your party had stumbled into a small town, tucked away, easy to miss. It had a few shops, a tavern, but most importantly – an inn. With one final burst of energy, you all made your way inside. It was small, smelled a little off, and you wouldn’t have been surprised to see a rat scurrying around. But none of that mattered – you all would be able to sleep in a real bed.

You approached the counter, and Gale just watched you, as he usually did. He wasn’t particularly paying attention to what was being said, the combination of exhaustion and anticipation clouding his mind. Until the innkeeper's words cut through his trance.

“–but we wouldn’t much want a spiderling taking up residence here. Bad for business.” The man said with a sneer, looking you up and down as if he were challenging you to start something.

You blinked a few times, recovering from the surprise, before clearing your throat and pulling out your coin pouch.

“What if I pay extra?” You offered, placing the pouch on the counter with a metallic clink. You didn’t want to give this man your money, obviously. But this was nothing new to you, and damn, if you weren’t looking forward to a real bed to sleep in. Besides, it would be unfair to deprive your companions of a good night's rest. If it came to it, you’d set up camp on your own and let them stay here without you.

Suddenly, things seemed to register in Gale’s mind. The shock wore off, as the words cut through his trance and pulled him back to reality.

Before the innkeeper had a chance to respond, Gale was already in motion, not even giving his own rational mind time to react. He marched up to the counter and snatched the pouch away, pushing it back into your hands.

“Spiderling?” He shouted, slamming a hand on the counter. “‘Bad for Business?’ This is a person you’re talking about – talking to! A hero, no less!” You were sure Gale was about to grab the man by the collar with how he leaned in, eyes narrowed and towering over the much smaller man. “You’d better be awfully grateful she’s here to see this right now, otherwise I’d have a hell of a lot more for you than a few choice words.” He spat, straightening back up, though his aura was no less threatening.

The man stumbled back in his seat, spluttering and red in the face.

“You- you can’t speak to me that way! I have guards!” He stuttered out, pulling himself together and standing from his seat.

“I think,” Gale said calmly then, turning towards you with his hand still firmly in place on the counter. “You should let the lady decide how to proceed. She’ll be far more forgiving than myself.” His tone was even, though unmistakably threatening.

Gale took a breath before speaking, his voice much softer than it had been just a moment ago. “Do not give him any of your money, my love. He doesn’t deserve it. Besides, sleeping in the dirt is probably far more sanitary than this place.”

“I– It’s not– It’s okay, I don’t mind, you guys should stay here. I’m not–“ You tried to string the words together, but you were so caught off guard by the situation, you struggled to find the words.

Then, Astarion started to laugh, and the whole thing was starting to make you feel dizzy.

“My, Gale! What an outburst! I didn’t think you had it in you.” Astarion giggled, clasping his hands together as he turned to the innkeeper, a mischievous smile on his face that earned a deep sigh from you. “We could just kill him, and then we could stay here for free!” He suggested, with a little too much excitement. Whatever fight the man behind the counter had left in him seemed to go right out the door with Astarion’s friendly suggestion.

You furiously shook your head. “No, no one is killing anyone. It’s fine, you all can stay here and I can head back to camp. It’s really not a big deal – I’d prefer at least some of us get a good night's rest.” You desperately tried to diffuse the situation, feeling far too tired to end up in another fight with anyone.

“I’m not staying here without you.” Gale quickly cut in. “I’m not sure I’d stay here with you, even. There will be plenty of places, ones far better than this, when we get to Baldur’s Gate.” He took your hands in his, looking you in the eyes with that unwavering affection that his gaze always held.

“He’s right, soldier. No way in hells am I giving this guy a cent after that. I’d much rather save it for a place that doesn’t smell like the sewers.” Karlach shook her head, her face contorting with disgust to emphasize her point.

“Let’s go. This isn’t worth our time, much less our money.” Gale asked, and you paused for a moment, mind still racing. You definitely weren’t going to argue about your companions defending you, nor did you really have any interest in staying here yourself any longer. But that guilty feeling still twisted in your gut, until your eyes fell upon Gale’s concerned and adoring gaze, pushing away any remaining argument.

You offered him a small smile, nodding in concession.

“All right then. Off we go.” You agreed, intertwining your fingers with Gales.

“Ugh, you people never let me have any fun!” Astarion whined as you made your way to the exit, leaving the innkeeper in a state of shock and horror behind the counter.

“You’re more than welcome to stay, Astarion. We won’t stop you.” You offered, genuinely. You’d be neither surprised nor offended if he chose to stay behind after that, really expecting nothing less from the vampire.

“And undermine Gale’s grand display of chivalry? I’d never.” He gasped in mock offense, placing a hand over his heart. You just rolled your eyes, and continued on back to camp, fingers interlaced with Gale’s.

-

You sat silently on your bedroll, mindlessly rolling a rock beneath your boot as you gazed into the flickering flames of the fire before you. You replayed the day’s events over in your head, flickering between feeling immensely grateful for Gale’s defense on your behalf and simultaneously feeling incredibly embarrassed, and guilty.

Situations like that were unfortunately common for you, and you’d grown quite adept at brushing them off. There had been a few encounters similar since starting your journey, though most had been in your occasional solo excursions. Few people has been so bold as to make a comment surrounded by your companions, and even fewer under Gale’s protective eye.

Though you were not normally one to take things lying down like that, today had been different. You were too tired to care about any slight towards you, too desperate to sleep in a bed and have a real bath, and you were quite sure your companions felt similarly.

You couldn’t shake the guilty feeling knowing that your presence had been the barrier to that, worrying about what future situations might arise that you have no control over.

“Is there a mystery in those flames I’ve yet to uncover, or is there perhaps something else on your mind?” Gale’s voice suddenly pulled you from your thoughts, his comment on your thousand yard stare into the fire making you crack a smile.

“Maybe a bit of both?” You offered, trying to keep your tone lighthearted. You watched as he scanned your expression, attempting to uncover all the things you wouldn’t say out loud.

“May I?” He asked, gesturing towards the empty space beside you. You nodded, scooting over to give him more space. He sat down beside you, crossing his legs and looking ahead toward the fire just as you had been.

You both sat quietly for a moment, before Gale broke the silence once again.

“I do hope I didn’t embarrass you today.” He said quietly, voice just barely wavering. “You’ve been awfully quiet this evening, and I’d hate to find out I was the cause. I just… Couldn’t stand by and do nothing once I understood.” He shook his head, nervous smile creeping across his lips. “But perhaps I jumped the gun just a bit.”

Your heart twisted in your chest, feeling the uncertainty and nervousness radiating from him. Instantly, you reached out and took his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers. His head turned to look at you, eyes full of expectation.

You flashed a smile as your eyes met his, taking in his every detail.

”You could never embarrass me.” You said quietly, tracing your thumb along the back of his hand. “I just.. feel bad. That I was the reason we’re spending another night out in the woods. I-I know it’s not my fault, necessarily. But we could’ve been in an actual inn right now, in an actual bed if I wasn’t there.”

Gale let out a quiet laugh. “Perhaps, but I imagine we’d be sharing with the bedbugs and rats as well, so I’m not entirely sure we missed out on much, my dear.” He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles. A smile spread across your face again.

He looked back to you, his expression suddenly far more serious than it had been a moment ago. He squeezed your hand, “I can’t believe he would say that to you. It’s a rather good thing you’re always so level-headed, because I may have left that inn a bloodbath had you not been there.” He shook his head, brows furrowed. “I’m truly at a loss for words, that someone would speak to you –to anyone– that way.”

It was your turn to squeeze his hand now, shrugging slightly. “It’s okay. It’s not so abnormal. I understand that people have… preconceived notions, however misguided.”

He shook his head again, cutting in quickly. “It’s not okay! It’s quite the opposite, actually. That anyone would-would… Reduce you to that!” His words were quick and flustered, his anger clearly bubbling just under the surface. “You’re so… Great. I just… cannot wrap my head around anyone being unable to see that.”

You smiled at him, heart twisting in your chest and cheeks flushing at his very genuine display of anger on your behalf, the way his normally polished words seemed to slip away from him in his frustration.

You reached out a hand to cup his face, running your thumb along his cheekbone, watching his tense expression melt away beneath your touch.

“I will never quite understand what exactly I did to deserve you.” You said quietly, holding his gaze and enjoying the warmth of his skin against your cool fingers. “And I am immensely grateful for your immediate defense of my honor.” You said with a cheeky smile. “Although, perhaps we should refrain from killing mostly-innocent civilians.”

He cracked a small smile, leaning into your touch. “That man is anything but innocent.” He replied, a touch of sharpness in his tone. “But I concede. I will reel in my temper should a similar situation arise in the future. Though my inner thoughts will remain, uh, less than polite.”

“Ah, you’re truly my knight in shining armor. I’d be doomed without you.” You teased, before pulling his face towards you and pressing your lips against his.

[y-rhywbeth2]

Lore Compilations (+ this blog's tagging/filter list at the end)

A WIP of a pinned post table of contents to tidy up the blog while I empty my fixations onto it plus a lore accuracy disclaimer (so I don't have to keep typing one), because why not. I like tables of content.

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Disclaimer regarding lore accuracy: If you combine 50 years, 5 editions, 10+ settings, god knows how many novels, and then all the writers who all retcon and contradict each other's work then what you get is a clusterfuck. The lore I show here is compiled from all five editions of the game. You will likely see stuff out there that contradicts some things I say, or stuff I didn't mention/know. That's the lore for you. If you were the Dungeon Master making your own story, your job would be to pick and chose and build your own take on the setting out of it. I, personally, heavily favour older lore. Larian absolutely did this with Baldurs Gate 3 - frankly, I don't think they even know half this lore even exists, and Bioware took some liberties in the original games too. Wizards of the Coast themselves trample D&D into the ground all the time! All D&D is near enough fanfiction built on fanfiction. Therefore, if you find any information useful you may take it, leave it or tweak it to your desire for your own story, because it's D&D lore, and that's how it works.

Disclaimer regarding Larian's canon (and Bioware, and Obsidian): The setting shown in BG3 does not really match up to the setting as presented in sourcebooks (and sometimes novels, previous games, and 'word of god). I'm always talking about the latter and reframing the story and characters within the latter.

Disclaimer regarding asking me for my opinions on how [x] works in canon: I can make an educated guess based on the sourcebooks, but there are many gaps in many places and however educated the guess, unless it comes from a sourcebook, novel, or writer, it's just my own headcanon.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS [WIP] (I make no promises as to the speed or order at which any of this is produced - and some of these need updating)

Abeir-Toril Why it's called the "Forgotten" Realms

[Some of this is getting revamped at some point] History | Time & Festivals | Lexicon [1] [2] | Languages | Living in Faerûn [1] [?] | Notable Organisations | Magic | | Waterdeep | The Underdark | Geography and Human Cultures

Baldurs Gate: The City #1 | Demographics | Law & Legal System | Aministration & Government | ???

Human Names | Clothes and Fashion | Music | Dating, Sex, Marriage etc [part 1] [part 2] |

Religion How religion works in the Realms, the different pantheons in the world and then individual posts dedicated to the gods as individuals, how and why to worship them and how their churches function

Religion | Priesthoods and Temples | Deities

Death and the Afterlife Dying | Judgement | Afterlives

Deities in BG3 Shar | Selûne | Bhaal | Mystra | Jergal | Bane | Bane #2 | Bane #3 | Myrkul | Lathander | Kelemvor | Tyr | Helm | Ilmater | Mielikki | Oghma | Tempus | Silvanus | Talos | Corellon | Moradin | Yondalla | Garl Glittergold | Eilistraee | Lolth | Laduguer | Gruumsh | Bahamut | Tiamat | Amodeus |

The rest of the Faerûnian Pantheon Gods of Magic & Knowledge | Nature Deities | Cyric | The Elemental Lords | Good Deities | Evil Deities | Neutral Deities |

Arcane Magic

Public Perception | Types of Mages | The Weave | Specialisations | Obscure types of magic | Elven High Magic | ???

Vampires Feeding | "Biology" | Hierarchy & Powers | Weaknesses & Cures | Psychology

Elves The Complete Book of Elves once said ‘The elves of Toril do not follow the standards of most other worlds,’ which yeah, pretty much. The Player’s Handbook is not necessarily going to be accurate when talking about the Tel’Quessir.

Physiology and quirks | Names & Clans and Houses || Pan-Cultural things: Social life | Time and Age Categories | Homes | Language | Art | Entertainment | Technology || Elven 'Subraces' still a wip || Philosophy and Religion & Pantheons || Half-elves | [WIP]

Drow Culture | Other Drow Cultures

Planars & Planetouched Tieflings | Githyanki | Bhaalspawn | Devils

Dwarves Overview | Culture | Specific Cultures | Magic | Religion | History

Orcs

Hin - That's "halfling", if you're over 3'4" Overview | Names | Culture | Homelands | Religion

Gnomes Culture | Names | Homelands | History | Religion

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Tagging system:

Various lore things that don't go in the larger compilations are tagged lore stuff. Things that aren't lore will get tagged babbling.

For sensitive material, such as if I feel like poking at the various delightful topics presented in the game:

I'll use edgelord hours as the generic "reader discretion advised"

The tag villainous nonsense means Dead Dove Do Not Eat.

the family circle is an extra warning for discussing the themes and subtexts such as those present with Bhaal's cult and the Bhaalspawn: including reproductive horror and sexual abuse, including the incest.

When babbling about my ideas for a World of Darkness AU specifically Vampire the tag is wod shenanigans.

If I feel like posting anything I scribbled ("art"), the tag will be the scribbles

When I'm making posts and being negative or complaining about video games and trivial stuff, it will be filed as: griping.

Whenever I find or consider something new about the Dead Three and/or want to rant and scream insults at Bane again, my tag is the idiot three

When I babble about my characters, I tag it OCs, and the ocs are also tagged by name. So far I've only mentioned Vel

If I don't want to put my babbling about certain characters into the tags, I'll just put the / in front. /astarion, /orin, /gortash, /durge, etc

When I want to babble about stuff happening in my game as I play it, they're tagged playthrough shenanigans. The original games are bg2 playthrough shenanigans.

When I start talking about my oc's romance with Astarion I'll tag it petty murder boyfriends

[galedekarios]

Where is the quote from your last edit from? Or did you write it? Thank you!

[in reference to this edit]

"Once upon a time, not quite that long ago, there lived a wizard in a tower. The wizard was what one might call a prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the Weave, but compose it, like a musician or a poet."

it's a quote from early access!

in early access, there were two versions of gale's backstory that gale would tell the protag after the tiefling party, spending the night together or not, depending on the player's choice.

one version allowed gale to talk about what happened to him as a story, with him being his own narrator. the other version is largely as it is now in the game.

the conversation started like this:

Gale: I know we have to get moving again soon, but before we part, I’d like to tell you something. I’d like to tell you a story. It is a story full of answers long overdue. It is a story of a man who fell in love with a goddess. - Player - Option 1: Very well, I’ll play along. Regale me, Gale. Gale: Thank you.  - Player - Option 2: It’s clear as day you are talking about yourself, you know. Gale: I know, but a bit of narrative distance will make it all so much easier in the telling. Indulge me. - Player - Option 3: Hold on. You were in love with Mystra? And you tell me this now? Or alternatively, Player - Option 4: Just tell me what’s really going on, would you? Gale: Please – a bit of narrative distance will make it all so much easier in the telling. Indulge me.

if you then chose to indulge gale, letting him tell the story with "a bit of narrative distance" to make it "easier in the telling" for him, this was the story he would tell the player in early access:

Gale: Once upon a time, not quite that long ago, there lived a wizard in a tower. The wizard was what one might call a prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the Weave, but compose it, like a musician or a poet. Such was his skill that it earned him the attention of the mother of magic herself. The Lady Of Mysteries, Mystra.

from there, the conversation branched again and it's also where the 'delicate veils' line comes from, which was sadly cut, like so many of gale's ea scenes and lines:

Player - Option 1: What did Mystra’s attention feel like? Gale: Love.  - Player - Option 2: He sounds like a very talented individual Gale: He was. Even though it was in Mystra’s affections that his true power lay. - Player - Option 3: Teacher’s pet, was he? Gale: He fancied himself much more than that. He fancied himself favoured above all others. Perhaps it was not quite love, but you see, the wizard was but a very young man. It was most certainly love to him.

all these options would then lead to:

Gale: Mystra showed him the secrets behind the veils. The gossamer veils first, draped across the Weave. The delicate veils next, draped across her body. ‘Chosen One’ she whispered, as she slipped them off completely.

if the player denies gale, and asks for the 'plain' version of the story instead, gale used to say the following, which is very similar to the version we have now in the full release version of the game:

Gale: Very well. The plain version it is. I am what one might call a wizard prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the Weave, but compose it like a virtuoso. - Player - Option 1: Are you telling me the wizard made love to a goddess? Gale: Yes. Until one day all too soon, the whispers stopped. The goddess spurned the mortal. The veils were drawn once more, and the wizard was left behind heartbroken. - Player - Option 2: The veils draped across the Weave? Gale: Indeed. What most wizards perceive is but the ripple of the Weave’s surface. Untold wonders lie beyond. I enjoyed them for a while, as we enjoyed each other. - Player - Option 3: Finally the story is getting interesting. Gale: Alas it was Mystra’s interest that didn’t last.

from there on, the protag was able to decide whether to keep gale by their side, as romantic partners, friends, travel companions, or to send him away entirely, as well as ask him further questions about his conditions as well as his feelings about mystra.

[underprivilegedcactus]

Something has been niggling at the back of my mind about Gale and his falling out with Mystra for a while now.

Before we begin, I feel the need to put a disclaimer here and say that I love Gale to pieces and even if this thing I've been thinking about turned out to be canon, I still want to drop kick Mystra. But like I said, a though occured to me about the circumstances of their break up.

In short, what if their breakup wasn't because Gale didn't listen to Mystra when she told him to not go after the piece of the weave he thought was hers? What if, instead, it was the final straw after a long history of Gale going after sources of power that Mystra repeatedly told him to leave alone?

Ignoring the fact that wizards are pushed to always aim higher anyways, we know that Gale is someone who has always sought out more power, opinions of (most) others and consequences be damned. How many terrifyingly powerful objects ended up in his tower because Mystra mentioned them and he decided to collect them? How many did she emphatically tell him to leave alone because they were too dangerous? How many times did he nearly cause a disaster because he assumed that because he was the mighty Gale of Waterdeep, it wouldn't go wrong? How many times did Mystra or Elminster have to save his ass?

To be clear, even if this is the truth it still doesn't justify her treatment of him, but to me it would make a bit more sense as to why she ghosted him after he absorbed the orb. It's still on brand for her to do that after one big disaster, but cutting off all contact is frankly a bit extreme for a first offense, regardless of the magnitude of the failure. But if the orb came after a series of situations where she told him to leave stuff be or to be more patient and he repeatedly refused to listen to her, I think even I would be pissed off enough to not want to talk to him either, at least not for a while.

No one appreciates having their knowledge and advice repeatedly ignored, especially if you are literally the primary source on all things magic. The literal Goddess of Magic told him this was neither something she wanted nor was it something that Gale was equipped to handle, and Gale thought he knew better anyways. And I know there's a million fair reasons as to why Gale is the way he is, the least of which is from going through the Gifted Person (TM) experience where you're told all your life that you're special and head and shoulders above your peers. It's still harmful to believe you know better than people objectively more qualified.

Unfortunately, this can be hard to see under how vile Mystra is to him. I'll probably write about that soon in another novel of a post, but I just wanted to throw out a potential angle that some people might have missed when it comes to Mystra and Gale's breakup. Again, it's not canon, and it's not even my own personal headcanon or anything, but it is something that's come to mind when thinking about their relationship and how it ended. I still love Gale, and if anything this just adds a really interesting potential layer to his backstory.

P.S.: It has also occured to me that Gale was extraordinarily lucky that whatever magical seal he broke when he opened the book didn't just immediately cause the Karsus weave to detonate right then and there and kill thousands of people in Waterdeep. Gale's mistake was honest, but it was an extremely foolish one and entirely preventable.

P.P.S: Editing some typos and also wholeheartedly agreeing that Gale wasn't only looking for raw power, but knowledge and pushing the boundaries of the weave! ☺️

[wizardsix]

people writing gale off as the guy who can't get over his ex is crazy bc how is someone supposed to just "get over" being sexually and emotionally abused. if people could use their brains for once they'd realize that just like the other companions, his arc also includes him reclaiming his autonomy and identity from an authority figure and learning how to heal from it--which is a very messy and absolutely not linear process, and that's perfectly fine.

all of them are coping with their trauma in different ways, just because gale's way is "unusual" and concerning at times doesn't mean he's less deserving of help.

i struggle to understand why people are being so incredibly narrow about him, but i'll take a guess that it's because mystra is a woman and people still can't grasp that men can also be abused by women.

edit: someone commented that another reason is his appearance, which is incredibly true as well. look at how gale and lae'zel are treated vs astarion and shadowheart. not to mention how barely anyone talks about wyll. people care more about looks than anything else and it makes them look stupid.

edit2: didn't think i had to specify, but tumblr isn't the only place people talk about bg3. i haven't seen anyone here talk about gale's appearance in a negative way but i've seen it on twt and rddit. i never said it was one of the bigger things, it's just something ive noticed and made a point to bring up because someone reminded me.

[viablemess]

Gale's Childhood + Mystra

I just have some thoughts and need to articulate them because they will not leave my brain alone at all and I cannot think about much else. Feel free to sit down and join me as I word vomit how I imagine Gale’s childhood went. I did not edit this or proof read it at all, so bear with any grammar/spelling/flow mistakes please!

So, Gale’s mother is Morena Dekarios, we know that. She’s an angel, an icon, and she cares so much, and she is wicked smart. I also headcanon that she is a high quality escort in the City of Splendors, and so grew up knowing how to please people and blend in with high society in any way she can. So, she raised Gale right. She told him about what she did, never hid anything from him, and would bend over backwards to ensure that her son was happy, healthy, and cared for. Because she had to blend in with high society, she had so many books, and art pieces, and high quality alcohol and clothes all over her house. Gale grew up around these, and absorbed it all with ease, and Morena thought that was fantastic. She frequently sent him to school whenever she had to work even if he had already spent the entire day there because she knew he would be safe and looked after, because his dad was not around to look after him.

Speaking of his dad, let’s talk about Waterdeep politics for a moment, shall we? We will circle back to Gale’s parentage. Waterdeep is ruled by a council of 16 Lords, all of whom are anonymous. Whenever they are ruling in public, they use magical masks called the Lord’s Helm that hides their identities. A common game in Waterdeep is to identify the Lords and figure out the rumors that float around about them. The Lords actually start most of their own rumors, though, so these can be easily misleading. Because the Lords elect the other Lords via anonymous vote, it is difficult for the Lords to even know who is who, but they do know their names, and so they have more information. So, while the Lords are frequently protected from assassination / bribes / stalking / lobbying from the public, they are not as always well protected from each other, so the secrecy is still important, and caution is warranted. I imagine some of the Lords take this very seriously, and value the job over forming families or bonds, so high quality well-to-do escorts like Morena are highly sought after.

Now, back to Gale’s father. So, Morena is an escort for a Lord, one thing leads to another, some mistakes are made, and Morena gets pregnant which was definitely not the goal, but she can’t tell anyone she is pregnant with a Lord’s child, so she just pretends the child’s father is another client and moves on. So, if the Lord happens to be a (maybe red) wizard/cleric/paladin of Mystra… who is to say? If this Lord happens to be highly talented and magically inclined (or magically manipulated) who would ever know? Gale starts showing magical inclinations in the womb. Morena’s 9 months of pregnancy are absolutely hell. She isn’t ready for a child, but she isn’t not ready, either. So, she gets shit done and gets ready. She talks to the local Blackstaff Academy and seeks help and these teachers are /interested/ because rarely does anyone show magical talents in the womb and they are here to support her and more importantly here to teach this would-be-prodigy.

Morena is wealthy, so she can pay for private tutors and Gale shows magical abilities akin to a teen when he is a child, and so she fanes those (sometimes literal) flames. She knows her son’s child is powerful, and so Gale must be powerful, too. She loves him, and fully enables him to make his own decisions, but he is /good/ at magic and a child. He likes being good at things, and so of course he follows his talents naturally. So much so, in fact, that when he accidentally sets off a fireball trying to pick his mom some roses with a mage hand, Elminster shows right up. He had been watching Gale, after all. Mystra had told him to. Mystra had told him to watch Morena when she was pregnant, too, because Mystra knew what would happen. Mystra willed this to happen, and neither Morena nor Gale are any wiser about it.

“I wanted to give my mum something pretty,” tiny Gale had said, tears in his eyes and chubby cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry! I thought the roses were pretty, like sunsets are pretty, and I must have thought of the fire of a sunset by accident and—and—please don’t get mad at me.”

Because if there is one thing that Morena did instill in Gale other than politeness, a love for the finer things in life, and a sense of ambition (heh, ouch), it was to be respectful of authority, because Morena isn’t stupid. If a Lord could use another Lord’s child against them, they would, no hesitation. So, Gale is taught to be a good, rule-abiding little boy who has a healthy caution of leadership but mostly knows how to smile and nod and keep his head down. And Elminister, while not masked, gives off waves of authority, so Gale aims to please and keep his head down.

Elminster smiles. Gale clutches Morena’s skirt and hides behind her and Morena glares at Elminster as if daring him to do something. Elminster puts out the fire with a wave of his hand, and introduces himself. “I’ve been keeping an eye on your talents, Gale Dekarios. You’re so talented, but you do not know where to aim your talents. May I help you?”

Morena knows who Elminster is, she has heard the rumors. She does not know he is Mystra’s chosen (Morena knows Elminster to discuss grandiose tales with her clients, not to study magic or doctrine) or his relationship with Mystra at all. Morena frequently says, only in private and after a few glasses of wine, that the Gods can fuck right off because they were no help to her, she helped /herself/ thank you very much, so she does not know. She just sees this powerful and well-known figure who might be able to help her protect her son from his dad who is maybe still a Lord, and says yes.

Gale’s private study with Elminster goes on for a few years before Mystra gets involved when he turns 11. He excels, he goes to Blackstaff as one of the youngest students ever, and his classmates hate him. He is too good, too favored, too young. He does not have to try, as if he is blessed, and Gale does not understand why his classmates hate him. He’s studying just like they are, just many years ahead. He is young just like them, but a few years more. He has a favorite teacher in the form of Elminster, just like his classmates have their own favorites who actually are teachers at the academy and not a rumored hero of Faerun. His experience is close enough for Gale to not understand why his situation is unique, and why his peers hate him for it. So, he asks for a cat. Cats are nice and soft and hiss at people who they do not like, and Gale always had a hard time saying when he didn’t like someone so maybe the cat would do it for him. But Gale needed to focus on his studies, and cats couldn’t live with students at Blackstaff, so everyone tells him, respectfully, no. Gale keeps trying to make friends, and keeps failing, and he finally says “fine I’ll summon my own friend!” and summons Tara, which is an impressive feat, and within a single hour Tara says “fuck everyone this human is /mine/ and no one can tell me otherwise.” People try to banish Tara away, and she always comes back, but only for Gale, and sometimes for Morena.

Everyone knows Gale is talented, but it is not until he casually wields the Blackstaff entirely by accident that everyone realized how much so. The staff molds to his hand, and flutters in his direction ever since he picked it up. The school is furious, and Gale does not understand, because does that not mean that he is good at what he studies? He doesn’t understand it means he is a threat, he is too good, he is too strong, and some people would rather eradicate him than educate him.

One of the requirements for students at Blackstaff is survival training. The students are released into nature and told to fend for themselves, summon food and water or use their magic to otherwise make some, to create shelter, to prove that in practice they can manage a bad situation. The teachers are nearby, of course, to help should something go wrong. However, at this point, teachers feel one of two ways about Gale Dekarios, and that sometimes is a help but frequently is a hinderance. These teachers see this child, and can easily understand that one day he will be a threat to their jobs, their research, their theories. He’s just that good. And some of the teachers get together to make this test akin to the hells for Gale, and he goes off by himself. Waterdeep is surrounded by beautiful golden beaches and stalagmite caves, which are beautiful blessings during the tourist times of year. They are deathtraps during high tide, and the teachers know this, and so does Mystra.

It's pouring by the end of the first day, and Gale does not know where to go. He can heat his closes, and summon food and water, but he is aware of the fact that magical exhaustion is a thing, and that he cannot keep himself dry and warm constantly with magic for the duration of the test. So, when he sees a rainbow will-o-whisp that feels safe, he follows it into the cave. Mystra leads Gale into a shallow grave planted by the Blackstaff teachers, and watches him almost drown. The teachers would have let him drown. They would have let this eleven year old boy get grabbed by the rushing water and dragged to the bottom of a sharply pointed, mud filled cave. At the bottom of that cave is a large hollow tree trunk, and the teachers would have waited for tide season to end, and eventually drug Gale’s tiny corpse out of where it was wrangled around the smooth wood, where Gale had tried to hold in and climb out feebly, crushed by the weight of the water overhead, until the calmness of unconsciousness met him.  

Drowning was calm, for Gale, at first. It was calmest when the rainbow will-o-whisp appeared again, a single speck of bright light in the murky darkness, his eyes stinging with water, his chest and stomach throbbing for oxygen. Drowning was calm, as he felt warm arms wrap around him, and felt the water get expelled from the hollow tree. Gale felt the weave rid his lungs of water and dry him off and warm him. Mystra lead Gale to his death just so she could save him, and so easily, Mystra became an exception to Gale’s distrust of authority, because she taught Elminster. She was the very rush of security and rose and love that Gale felt every time he channeled the weave. Mystra was magic—what Gale was good at, what made Gale who he is, what Gale loved. So how could he not love his savior? His muse? Mystra welcomed him into her hollow tree and taught him of Her. Her world. Her gifts. Her abilities. The three days of the test passed in a blink, and Gale emerged from the cave tinged with blue and white and the teachers who sent Gale to die heard Mystra’s laugh in their ears.

Mystra had staked her claim on Gale, and everyone knew it. Everyone had suspected it, when Elminster kept showing up, but now they had proof. Gale’s magic was sprinkled with starlight, brilliant blue and white and purple of Mystra. Gale vanished in his dreams to visit Mystra in her domain, and she continued to teach him everything that the teachers couldn’t or wouldn’t. The teachers who tried to kill him snapped to attention and did everything they could to help Gale, then, because to not would be to betray the Weave itself.

Gale went back to the hollow tree when he was about to graduate and the tide lowered, and met Mystra again. She took a more physical form, then. She guided his hands and arms as she taught him magic, and she kissed him on the forehead. She whispered, “my child, my star, my boy, my prodigy,” and Gale fell further and further under her spell. The Blackstaff Academy had graduation ceremonies where everyone would dance and celebrate their victories with one another. Morena was so, so proud. A few Lords showed up to congratulate the students, and check on the fresh talent. Gale was the equivalent of the valedictorian, and when he danced with himself, the more learned students and the teachers and Tara could see the strings of Mystra’s weave manipulating his movements like a marionette until they were perfect. Because he was her’s, and she would settle for nothing but the best.

[waterdeep-scholar]

I have a personal head canon about Gale that I think will peak the interest of at least some of you.

I like to think Gale is related to Karsus. OKAY NOW HEAR ME OUT-

Narratively, its fascinating. Watching Gale fall into the same curse of ambitions as his ancestors, watching the cycle repeat all over again hundreds of years later- a connection even more facinating when you go down the God Gale route.

Also I think it goes a long way in explaining why the orb didn't just outright kill him. His magic is born of it after all. I would go so far as to even say it explains his natural skill the magic.

Also, a line just sticks out to me so hard is when he's talking to Lorroakem and says something along the lines of "I have Nethereese magic in my veins, I can become god!" Or something like that. Is he referring to the orb? Probably. Did my brain hear that and assume he was talking about super great grand pappy Karsus? Absolutely.

Also, it kinda explains why he kinda tried to hide his last name from you. He goes by Gale of waterdeep all the way until act 3 when Tara calls him out for his last name. Maybe he was scared someone would hear the name and immediately clock him as a nepo baby decentent of Magics Biggest Mistake™️

Now, do I think this is what Larien was going for? Not necessarily. Do I think that Karsus is ment to be a mirror or even foil to Gale and nothing more? Yes yes I do. Did I stretch before reaching this far? I probably should have. But, I think it's fun to think about, and it's something I've added to my Personal Gale Lore™️

ALSO EDIT TO ADD AS OTHER HAVE POINTED OUT: It makes all the more sense why Mystra took interest in him in the first place! "Oh, the direct descendent of the guy that killed my original form is turning out to be as good at magic as he is ambitious? Yeah, I should probably manipulate him into making sure that doesn't happen again"

[dearasteria]

Major Gale romance SPOILERS below, so please DO NOT read and watch if you don't want to get spoiled.

I was REALLY worried about how romance with Gale would go, especially after talking to him right after he gets Karsas' book. My Tav wanted to believe and trust him, but something didn't feel right. At the end of Act II, when Tav tries to convince him not blow himself up for his ex's forgivness/to save Faerûn, it can be summed up with that one gif from Grey's Anatomy: "So pick me. Choose me. Love me" 🤡. Honestly, she asks not only to choose her, but also not to kill her and the rest of the team. Gale is so easily swayed and tells Tav that he loves her, even more than Mystra. Tav should be happy, right? But I'm like WAIT A DAMN MINUTE, it was faaar too easy, I mean, no protests from him, I didn't even have to use persuasion to convince him. At that point, after the trauma that Bioware had caused us with Anders and Solas, I'm getting paranoid. Gale doesn't love Tav, he's definitely hiding something. But I'm thinking to myself, "Okay, calm down, he just doesn't want to die, super understable. Maybe he really loves her and he needed to hear it? He needed reassurance that he has something to live for? Yes, it must be it". But then I go to the quest journal and see this:

DAMMIT GALE, you snake 🐍 My poor baby Tav (especially since the romance scene in Waterdeep was so warm and tender). She's so in love in him. Now I'm convinced that he will definetly betrey us, stubs us right in the heart.

At the beginning of Act III, he becomes obsessed with a book called The Annals of Karsus that may help him learn more about the crown. He becomes obsessed with how powerful he can become. When Tav gives him the book and says, "We already know the crown's dangerougs. Wouldn't that make things worse?" he replies:

"Worse? It could be the best thing that ever happened to me. To us."

After all this, Gale tries to convince Tav to help him reconstruct the crown. We have this beautiful scene on the boat and when I tell you my jaw dropped. HE CHOOSES TAV, listens to her concerns and simply chooses her.

The way he says it, the way he corrects himself… damn. For Tav, it's like a bucket of cold water. And I'm like, "Here we go again" 🤡

Furthermore, when we visit the Stormshore Tabernacle in Baldur's Gate and interact with Mystra's statue, he seems to feel so uncomfortable, he doesn't want to be there. Tav starts to think he's definitely hiding something. She would like to hear Mystra's version of what happened between her and Gale (I hope we can talk to her at some point in the game, it would be very interesting).

My Tav, however, disagreed, and Gale replies, "I hope you're right. I truly do. Godly power, perhaps I can live without, but you? You're everything". Has the curse of dating mages that leave players heartbroken been broken?

But I have to admit, when he said: "With you, I forget my goddess. I love you. Tell me you feel the same way. Tell me you want what I want. Please" - OH GODS 😳. I was so close to agreeing to this madness. The VA did an amazing job (side note: so many talented VAs in this game, it's mind blowing), the writing is amazing, the music is incredible, I was blown away, really.

Next day, after the boat scene, he's so adorable and full of love for Tav. Then I remembered his gratest flaw (for me it's more like his biggest fear) from the scene with Zethino in the circus: "He thinks he, and the world, might be better off if he were dead". At the time I thought he was lying, manipulating Zethino and his answers. My distrust of mages in games… Yes, I have a problem 😅

I haven't finished the game, but I have high hopes for a happy ending. No spoilers please, thanks :)

What a rollecoster of emotions, I love it, I love Gale. It felt like I was playing Dragon Age: Origins for the first time, way back when I was a teenager. It's really insane how this game makes me feel, how much I care about its characters and story.

EDIT: Okay, so we have an audience with Mystra, I mean only Gale, but we see the whole conversation between them. My only complain is that Gale doesn't mention Tav when Mystra asks him why he defied her 💔 The outcomes are different depending on whether you do it before or after the boat scene. Personally, I think doing the boat scene before meeting Mystra is much better. I get the impression that Gale is abandoning the plan to reconstruct the crown solely for Tav and his love for her. And the drama 👌🏻 it gives me life.

[thefallenangelsgang]

As always, only half finished and kinda edited (as most of my bg3 writing is)

This is the Weave Lesson scene. I'm playing with using game dialogue and my own for kinda the first time for this maybe fic. I can't tell how it's going quite yet.

the only context you need for this scene is Gale spends his evenings practicing his spellbook in early levels and he gets frustrated at the pace he's crawling at. I have a fragment of this earlier in this scene where he slams his book onto his alchemy table (cause my game Gale was our potion brewer extraordinaire) and Wynleth hears glass breaking. its a passing mention in this.

(EDIT: there is something else. Wynleth describes being percieved directly by Lathander. This is a reference to her encounter with the god during her Paladin vows. I haven't ironed it out but the gist is she has spoken directly with the god once before)

I'm gonna also try a new way of formatting these posts.

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

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Gale huffs and runs his hands through his hair. I can see the mental battle he’s losing behind his eyes. Eventually he gives in.

“I’ve been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can remember. It’s like music, poetry, physical beauty all rolled into one and given expression through the senses. Mastering it felt as natural as breathing air. So losing it now feels like another kick in a series of blows to my ego. I suppose that was half of it.” He brings up that projection again. “She meant to bring low again, to humble me.” 

Absent-mindedly, he begins to play with his earring and exactly who is hovering above his palm dawns on me like a crashing wave. 

“Mystra?” 

He nods an affirmative while gazing wistfully up at the goddess that spurned him. 

I don’t know what to say. 

“Her idols don’t do her justice.” The words leave my lips before I really think about them. It’s true though, they don’t. The ones I’ve seen depict a sensual woman, clothing and hair animated by the very Weave she commands. Sharp features and languid poses that reek of the male gaze and look nothing like how Gale presents her now. It’s almost shocking how simply he paints her. She could be just another beauty walking the streets of Baldur’s Gate. “They truly don’t,” Gale whispers back.

“I’m ashamed to admit, the way you speak of the Weave makes me almost jealous. It seems so infinite.” Poetry and music and beauty. He truly has a way with words if he can make me crave something when my magic feels like the kiss of sunlight after a dark winter. 

The light comes back in his eyes as I shift the conversation. “Divine power must feel almost… limiting in comparison. Being only allowed as much as your deity sees fit.” Mystra’s visage is gone again, momentarily forgotten for the time being. The “More than you know,” dies swiftly on my tongue. He does know and that is the problem.

He gets an idea. I can tell by the look in his eye and the mischievous smile on his face as he pushes up to rest on his elbow. “Would you like to learn?”

What?

“You could teach me?”

He’s actually grinning now which makes me feel better. He’s not hung up on all this bullshit that’s going on. “Oh yes. Here-” He shifts into a seated position and takes my hands. Together we stand and move to the open space in front of his tent. I can't help but laugh softly at how serious he looks as he positions me and motions for me to stay put.

He turns away and makes for the table he has set up for his alchemical pursuits to retrieve his spellbook, snapping away the beaker I heard fall earlier. Prestidigitation. Perhaps that’s what he’ll teach me. I’ve heard it's a very useful spell with many applications, quick clean up being one of them.

He thumbs through the tome until he finds what he’s looking for based on the way his face settles in a self-satisfied expression. “This is a simple spell for channeling the Weave. See here-” He says as he positions himself just behind me and runs his finger over the sigil drawn on the page.

It’s brain-bendingly complex for a “simple spell.” Even the most complex healing sigils or anointments I had to learn were markedly less intricate. But it’s beautiful the way the lines curl and intersect. 

“It is, isn't it?” 

I must have said it out loud. Gale’s eyes are shining, they're so bright. He truly loves this. “Could you explain this to me, what all of this means?” I say, running my finger across the same path he did. There seems to be a start and end to the figure that the movement traces.

He launches into an explanation I only half understand but follow with rapt attention. What I do glean is I was right about the beginning and end and the segments of the glyph refer to different parts of the spell. Somatic, Verbal, and Material. This one only has Somatic and Verbal.

“I hope that wasn’t too hard to follow. I’ll admit, some of this stuff requires prior knowledge of spell composition.” 

He looks sheepish as he pulls the book away and goes to set it down gently off to the side so he can continue to consult it from afar. It’s endearing, his concern.

“Some of it certainly went over my head but I’ve read political treatise and legalese so dense they make your head spin. I’m no stranger to asking questions and learning more.” 

That seems to assuage him. He shakes out his arms and gives a winning smile. “Are you ready?”

“After you master wizard,” I say with a playful bow.

He makes a gesture that is almost like theatrically flipping something over in his hands. I watch astutely as something seems to glow from between them. Then he gestures for me to mimic him. I try my best. It’s a lot less confident than his, but from the wideness of his grin I’ve done it satisfactorily enough. Then a shiver goes up my spine as a feeling begins to overtake me. Warmth and… something I cannot place. It’s different from the sunlight of Lathander, or Shadowheart’s healing, or the electric crackle when Gale casts something. I must rock back at the sensation because Gale’s hand is there to meet me at the small of my back. “That’s the Weave. Don’t be afraid. You get used to it.”

It does feel like poetry. It feels like looking up from prose that touches your soul and letting the words sink into your skin and bury themselves in the very marrow of your being. I close my eyes at the feeling and let it wash over me. “More things on Heaven and Earth…” I say as I open my eyes.

“Indeed,” Gale matches my conspiratorial whisper. “That was the Somatic component. Are you ready for the Verbal?” I nod. “Repeat after me. Ah-Thran Mystra-Ryl Kantrach-Ao.”

The words are strange on my tongue but then the feeling somehow compounds, doubling, tripling in intensity. Gale’s voice is hushed in my ear as he leans in and whispers, “Now I want you to picture in your mind the concept of Harmony. As true as you can.”

My mind wheels through various options. Things I’ve been taught are harmony. People living in peace together. Unwavering Devotion to the Morninglord. People singing different words and notes but bringing together something transcendent and beautiful. 

None of it seems to fit. 

Harmony is this. It’s sitting in a Druid’s Grove full of people who just want to survive, surrounded by nature and beauty and finding a moment of peace despite the hell of our reality. It’s taking precious minutes of our lives for an impromptu magic lesson in a discipline I am wholly unfamiliar with. It's Gale's patience and my eagerness and this feeling rolling over me in waves. 

My hand finds Gale’s as a pulse of energy issues forth. 

An energy field envelops us. It plays with our clothes like a breeze in the absence of any detectable current. Weave. Purple and blue and as fine as spun sugar. It tastes sweet and floral and electric in a good way. 

Poetry and music and beauty all rolled into one. Gale has never been more right.

“It’s beautiful Gale.”

“That doesn’t even begin to describe it.” He muses, his eyes reflecting the beautiful light surrounding us.

“No. No it doesn’t, I choke out around an incredulous laugh. I feel the urge to weep and laugh and dance all at once. This is incredible.

Instead, we stand like this- Gale’s hand pressed against my back and his other clasped in mine- breathing in what feels to me like the cosmos for some time. 

“Do you feel her? Watching over us?” A reverent tone has taken over his voice as Gale breaks our reverie. Calling attention to it suddenly helps me put the feeling into words. We are being perceived by Mystra of all things. It’s a strange feeling, different than it was being perceived by Lathander. This is less direct, more idle than anything. It’s the comfort of knowing she is there. She is watching over us and keeping us safe. Tangible reassurance that your faith is not misplaced. This is a prayer answered.

“Thank you,” I say with a squeeze of my hand. We are making the most direct eye contact we have this entire encounter. No more passing glances that happen to meet or gazing at the other as they experience the majesty unfolding around us. Connection, true connection this time. 

“For what?” Gale breaths, like he truly doesn’t know what a gift this is. 

“For teaching me. For giving me a taste of what you experience everyday. For opening my eyes to this.” My free hand gestures around us and I mean to follow with my eyes but find I cannot tear them away. Gale looks so alive when surrounded by magic, in a way he isn’t when he is pursuing other things. It suits him handsomely. 

It sinks in exactly how intimate this moment is, the two of us connected not only by touch but by the very Weave itself. I could take a thousand nights just like this one and never tire. And what I would do for a lifetime of conversations about subjects like this one! Strolling arm in arm learning from each other. I am half-convinced even a lifetime wouldn’t be enough.

As if in the same breath,  I am filled by an almost innate sense of how beautiful I look lit by the Weave. The way my green eyes compliment the hues of purple and blue and the copper of my hair stands out against the ethereal backdrop. It’s a strange and discordant thought. Not mine.

I think we both realize at the same time that they aren’t our thoughts, that perhaps the tadpoles have pulled a fast one on us or even the Weave has something to do with it. We both blush in unison and impressively. 

And then we laugh. 

Gale’s laugh is always loud and rapturous. Barking would be a good way to describe it. But it’s pleasant and jovial. It feels right every time I hear it. I get the sense mine is musical in the way horn instruments are. Not like peeling bells, but brassy and boisterous and unladylike. That makes sense, my grandmother hated my laugh. It was too masculine and unbecoming of a daughter of a noble house, my culturally masculine social position be damned. Which is a damn shame, it is a nice laugh. 

“I- Um- Well.” Gale clears his throat, still blushing. “Unexpected consequences. Not unwelcome ones! But unexpected all the same.” I’m still laughing, gently now. “There is no harm. I’m glad someone likes my laugh.” Gale blushes impossibly harder.

In a swift movement, like a breeze blowing smoke away, the spell dissipates. It’s almost frigid in it’s absence, or maybe it’s the act of Gale stepping away that brings the chill. I refuse to let him release my hand though.

“There it goes. As fleeting as the dawn, wouldn’t you agree?” He smiles at me, pleased at his metaphor. 

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

[thesongweave]

Fights

They all suffered injuries in their adventures across the wilds, sure. Before Halsin and Jaheria joins the company, the healing and treatment of wounds tends to fall between Alathea and Shadowheart. What they can't fix with their spells has to be dealt with through potions, poultices, and good old fashioned bandages.

So the first time (after admissions of feelings...) Thea takes a serious injury in combat while Gale was back at camp...

TW: injury

EDIT: updated with some spellcheck, lol.

They'd had an argument that morning - gods know Gale had been thinking about it almost non-stop since, especially since he had decided to stay in camp to get some space and cool off.

For the life of him though, he couldn't quite recall what had STARTED the argument in the first place ..

Maybe it was the shadows, the looming threat of Moonrise ahead...

They had already been there once, freed the surviving tiefling refugees &and some gnomes - slipped back out with none the wiser.

Then came a brief stop at Last Light before heading off after Balthazar.

It was that night he'd stolen away, turned the shadowy sky to stars and confessed to Thea how he had been feeling, and found she felt much the same.

They had been dancing around each other for some time now, really, but if he wasn't worrying about the orb, then Mystras command....

Gale had not wanted to burden Thea with his feelings just for him to turn around and die. But, he felt it not right to leave things unsaid, either.

The next morning, they'd run into Raphael, the damned devil. He wanted Thea and company to take care of a...well, Raphael was rather vague on what they'd find, but he wanted a thing taken care of. In exchange for information for Astarion.

Then there was the gauntlet of Shar, hidden under the Thorm mausoleum...

And now they were camped there, amongst the ghosts and the crumbling walls.

At any rate, Thea and Gale, who usually saw eye to eye on most things, did not see so this morning. So the bard, stewing from the... disagreement, had struck on out to finish the trials with Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion in tow.

Gale had been attempting to read, unsuccessfully, when a sudden commotion broke the silence that had been the camp. He heard Wyll shout out for him, which drew Gales attention to the returning adventuring team.

What he saw made his blood run cold and the blood drain from his face. Shadowheart, magic glowing around her hands, and Astarion flanked Karlach. All three were bloodied and battered, but it was, of course, the smaller figure that Karlach carried in her arms that drew the wizards gaze.

"Thea, oh gods no," he thought, book discarded quickly to the side as he grabbed his staff and ran up, "please, no..."

Karlach was laying the elf out in a hastily laid out bedroll by the fire pit, Shadowheart never ceasing in her healing magic - for all the good it seemed to be doing. Why wasn't it working?

"What happened!?" Gale felt a disconnect. He heard himself talking, but it sounded miles away as his eyes took in Theas unconscious form.

Like the others, she was covered head to toe in blood. She was unnaturally pale, paler than Gale had ever seen her.

Halsin had swooped in next to Shadowheart, partially blocking Gale from Thea. The former first druid set straight to work.

Everyone was talking, fast and frantic, but Gale wasn't listening, their voices all blending together to make an almost overwhelming buzz in his ears.

Trying not to panic, the wizard stepped around Halsin and Shadowheart, finally finding a spot to kneel next to his lover, praying frantically that it looked worse than it was.

"Fuckin - fuck me, but we didn't hear them coming. More of those undead justiciars, they portaled in behind us--" Gale picked out a bit of the story.

"They were in us before we knew it." Karlach was on the edge of being frantic, herself. Thea was her best friend, after all, and the tiefling made it a point to keep an eye out on the elven bard.

Gale gulped, seeing the broken haft of an arrow protruding from Alathea's midsection. It wasn't the only wound, of course, just the thing that drew his attention first.

"Healing not working--"

"Might be cursed--"

Shadowheart's and Halsins voices blurred together. Gale tried to listen, but his mind just kept playing back the angry words from that morning.

Why had they even argued in the first place? Why did he let her go angry? He should have been there...

Was she even breathing? Gales's mouth was dryer than paper.

She had to live. Gods, please, she had to. It couldn't end now, not like this.

He reached a shaking hand out to Thea's face, fingers just barely brushing her skin.

She was so cold.

"-- Gale!!"

Shadowheart's sharp voice snapped the wizard back, out of his own mind.

"Bloody hells. I think it might be a bone-chill curse. I cannot remove it - can you?" The cleric's tongue was sharp, a hint of exasperation edging into the panic that was in all of them.

Gale swallowed, trying to focus. Nodding, he faced Alathea's much to still body, just managing to focus enough to recall the incantation for removing curses.

Magic flowed from his fingers into the elf, the magic floating like must through the air as it settled over Thea.

There was a quiet over those gathered now, waiting...

"There!" Halsin exclaimed, soft streams of healing magic finally taking hold. "Come, Shadowheart. We may yet save her."

There was a flurry of activity as the two worked, quick as they could. Karlach and Astarion tried, maybe only half-heartedly, to get Gale to move to give some room, but let it go when he refused to move.

The few minutes it took for the druid and cleric to work their healing spells dragged on for what felt like an eternity to Gale.

Both healers sat back once they were done, sweat-soaked and exhausted.

Halsin was the one to turn to Gale, concern and worry clear in his features. "It is up to her, now. We have done all we are able to. Shall we move her elsewhere to rest...?"

Gale blinked, tearing his gaze from Thea. He had been so focused on watching her breathing...

"Ah, yes. My tent. I will watch her, of course." Gale felt lumps growing in his throat and stomach.

He'd never argue with her again if he had any say in the matter. Whatever it took to have Thea open her eyes once more.

Halsin nodded, standing and moving to pick the much smaller elf up. Gale stopped him, standing and gently gathering his lady love up in his arms. The druid nodded in silent understanding, simply resting a hand on Gales shoulder a moment before turning away.

"You will get me if anything changes, hm?" Shadowheart asks as Gale turns towards his tent.

He just nods.

Thea is so very light, he realizes. He noted it before, but now...well, he holds her just a bit closer, just a bit tighter.

She's so very still.

~to be continued~

[brograndpa]

okay but gale really IS a beautiful princess with a disorder you're so right

Thank you so much for giving me a chance to talk about how BPD Gale is literally so real.

While you can easily make the claim that Mystra is Gale's FP, and how he both idolizes and reviles her within the same breath depending on his rapidly changing mood, there's so much more to it than that.

There's the subject of his alignment. How at first he seems like a genuinely good guy, constantly giving approval for doing kind acts towards others. The more you delve into his reasons as for why, though, it quickly becomes apparent that he's far more neutral in standing. Doing good acts is something he hopes will bring him closer to Mystra once again, but more importantly, being good is not necessary to keep him at your side. You can be an awful, deranged person who attacks refugees just because you can, and so long as you convince him he'll be lost without you, he'll stay.

He is desperate to be accepted, and yet he is the first to volunteer his own dismissal upon learning about the orb. He believes whole-heartedly that he is unlovable and not worth expending any effort on, so he tires himself out in trying to be someone reliable and useful. Without any means of proving himself, Gale truly thinks he's not worth anything. That's why he doesn't fight for you if you break up with him. He assumes any relationship he enters is as doomed as the one he had with Mystra, not because of anything wrong with you, of course. He assumes himself to be the problem even when there isn't one. He genuinely thinks it's inevitable that he will be left alone by everyone he cares about because he's done nothing to deserve them in his eyes.

You can presume a lot of that has to come from his upbringing. The fact that he was such a troublemaker in his youth, possessive to the point of narcissistically believing he had the right to a book he didn't buy or a staff he was forbidden from wielding, all point to him trying to find purpose to his talents and the expectations that came with them. His ego inflates the moment he comes near a source of power he thinks he can control, for no other purpose than the belief that he will be revered and respected when he does eventually tame it. His ambition is nothing more than a means to impress the one he loves most, and I truly mean this when I say there is no way God Gale doesn't become your personal stalker should you refuse to enter the heavens with him.

All and all, Gale is a pretty classic borderline. His contradictory narcissism and self-loathing come together to create a man dying to please yet only out of a sense of self-preservation. He is desperate for a reason to understand why he exists, and his only means of finding peace in that split existence is for someone who truly loves him to say he is enough and to treat him like he's enough.

Edit:

But like come on. You can see it. The way he snaps at you and holds the breakup over your head just to feel in control over it. He doesn't even allow you to call the breakup a mistake. The fact that you were ever willing to break his heart over your indecision is too much, and you're no god to him. Not anymore.

[jo-the-nerd]

ALSO SPEAKING AS SOMEBODY WHO ONLY KNOWS THE BARE MINIMUM OF GOOD OMENS AND THE INEFFABLE HUSBANDS i just wanna say im pretty sure bg3 has their equivalent in bloodweave (gale [the one played by tim downie] + astarion)

my defense:

autistic book nerd and king who has the Audacity to fight God + chaotic theater gay that gives cat vibes and may need Therapy

aziraphale and gale sound like the type that would have solidarity in old man knees . idek if thats canon for aziraphale but it sure as hell is for gale

aziraphale and gale rhyme holy shit thats becoming a legitimate bullet point AJSJSJSJA

the book nerds live in their own private library . gale has a whole ass wizards tower while aziraphale has his book shop (that iirc he doesnt even sell the books in it ???)

crowley and astarion are the same fruit men . i also dont know how to explain that crowley just gives me 8 strength vibes as well . even if he was an angel you cant tell me this man can lift more than three books at once

"fuck the gods that did nothing for us. what if we chose each other" vibes from the both of them (idc what the other endings for gale are hes denouncing mystra in my canon bc i say so <33)

is aziraphale the type to have a cat . he seems so . how about a cat w wings (<-a tressym) . theyd absolutely bond over that

if you replaced the cutscenes of astarions little hissy fits w crowley i think itd honestly still be pretty in character

if i manage to pirate good omens one of these days i will be confirming if my hypothesis is correct <33

Ooooh now we're talking :)))))) I'll try to be brief (< lying)

yup that's them.

'may need therapy' we all know they do, the 'may' is only there bc they either won't admit it (Aziraphale & Gale) or would have to get dragged kicking & screaming before ultimately weaseling their way out of it looney tunes style (Crowley & Astarion)

Aziraphale is an old man in all aspects except one (biologically), however Crowley is the same age and he would definitely have old man knees. he doesn't know what to do with his joints half of the time due to being snek

yeah there are no books being sold in that bookshop fgfjkfggnv. like, it's all first editions and what-not so i totally get not wanting to give any away but then why open a shop??? instead of a collection???

yk what, fair enough. Crowley is a noodle, those arms aren't doing much more opening doors for his angel. tbf he can lift multiple potted plants at once but that's more spite than anything

i could also totally see Astarion doing the Crowley Walk(TM)

"fuck the gods that did nothing for us. what if we chose each other vibes" so true, no notes.

aziraphale doesn't have a pet (yet) but I think he would love a cat (I mean, he's got Crowley hanging around, basically the same). A tressym is just a very peculiar step up from that (consider: it has it's own wings to match him and Crowley, which is really adorable!!)

crowley's hissy fits are great and can likewise be replaced with Astarion's.

similiar additions which would probably still be in character:

C slammed Aziraphale into a wall for calling him nice

C went out into the middle of the street when he got really frustrated/anxious and exploded lightning from his body

C agreed to take care of the bookshop, not selling any books etc. but tossed any books he was holding into some corner whenever

both of them evaded the immediate ire of their higher ups by pointing out a technicality that amounted to 'this word is explained to be different from the one you're using, but through a miniscule footnote on the last page of this giagantic book'

Aziraphale has an incredible hard time overcoming the trauma and toxic mindset upheld by his superiors, including how he views himself and his partner (that one's just sad, sry)

Solid ground for a hypothesis I'd say :))