#BG3 Fanart

[hellothisisangle]

what’s cookin

[cosmic-degenerate]

whoops, better get my ass in gear and upload my fanart backlog

[mysticalfg]

Saw fanart of gale in a robe n went mildly feral, possibly

[feyspeaker]

Black Friday sale now live! Runs 11/25-12/2 MST! 25% off all orders, minus preorder items (yes Radiant blankets are getting a second run, hop on the preorder if you missed it!)

ALL orders during this time will get a free Radiant sticker!

link!

[foxiecelery]

Good ref, good ref, GOOD REF!!!

Astarion’s Hair: A Comic

Edit: there is now a part 2

(Edited to increase text size for readability)

[oriixxc]

you sure wanna interrupt devil’s poker night?

[hellothisisangle]

very portable

full on P🔺treon of course

[art-t0n]

I know I’m not in the Baldur’s Gate Internet Circle at all but i’ll just still post this here because who cares

[lirotation]

Astarion in Cyberpunk AU

POV: How you met him in Night City =P

You’re just another low-tier merc in Night City's meat grinder, same as any other. Sure, you smoke, you chug whatever synthalcohol gets your synapses sparking, maybe pop a little Black Lace now and then for kicks. But one thing you don’t do? Pick up joytoys from Jig-Jig. Nah, choom. Not your scene.

Until tonight's clusterfuck.

You were on a gig, dressed to fool the corpo crowd—chrome hidden under slick, expensive synth-leather. Playing at being one of Night City's untouchables. Then your optics lock onto him.

A joytoy, but not just any joytoy. Lux-grade. The kind of beauty that made your targeting systems glitch and your tits perk up. Picking him up wasn’t the plan—never the plan—but here you are, trying to blend in, figuring if all these suits are doing it, maybe you should too.

Preem bastard had a silver tongue worth more than his chrome, smooth like pre-War whiskey. He leaned in close, casually dropped the very intel you need - an exclusive corpo mixer, one hosting Kong Tao mid-level procurement officer - your target - fresh from Guangzhou. The two of you hit it off, chatting over overpriced drinks at the bar, and one thing led to another. His place.

Then you wake up.

Your choom on the other end of the link, screaming. Your brain feels like it’s been through a shredder. You’re sprawled out on some piss-stained mattress, butt naked, weapons gone.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

You’ve been played. Conned. During a job, no less. Just your fucking luck.

Gotta escape before they rip you open, gotta figure out where the hell you are. But one thing’s for sure—you’re gonna find that pretty bastard, and when you do, he’s got a world of hurt coming his way. _______

Your head’s pounding, but you’ve been in tighter spots before. You force a reboot, running a quick scan. Typical corpo blacksite flophouse—The stink of blood, sweat, and bad decisions clings to the walls.

You find a rusted shard of metal and grip it tight. Better than nothing. You rigged the lock and slipped out of the room, the sound of your bare feet drowned out by the buzz of cheap fluorescents overhead.

The hall’s empty. Nobody watching the cams—amateurs. You find a storage room with your gear dumped in a corner like garbage. Your Militech pistol? Check. punknife? Check. Even your boots. Slipping them on feels like hugging an old friend.

Now clothed and armed, you should be bailing, cutting your losses. But the faint sound of muffled screams crawls under your skin, pulling you back into the fray.

You creep closer, the door half-open. Inside, him.

The joytoy. Astarion.

Strapped down like a Maelstrom test subject, neural wires spiderwebbing from his temples into some black-market brain-dance rig. The machine's whining like a dying cat, each pulse making him scream. Some chrome-headed ganger's working the controls, grinning like he's watching prime-time BD entertainment.

“Picked yourself a zero, didn't ya? No creds, no dirt—just a fucking merc with nothin’ to give. You are lucky boss is not in town.” the ganger sneers, twisting a dial, “What good’s a pretty face if it doesn’t deliver?”

Astarion convulses, tears streaking his otherwise flawless face, “I—tried,” he whispers.  "Please, give me another chance.”

Something snaps in your gut. You’ve seen people broken, but this guy? He’s built to endure. Still, this is next-level fucked.

Your blade whispers through the air, clean and silent. The ganger drops, and you catch the falling remote and cut the power to the rig.

Astarion slumps, breathing shallow. You free him, pulling the wires from his skin. He flinches but doesn’t resist.

“Can you walk?” you ask, dragging him to his feet.

He groans but nods. “I’ve had worse.”

The two of you fight your way out, bullets and curses flying. By the time you hit the street, you’re out of breath and out of ammo, but alive. Barely.

You lean against a wall, wiping blood off your hands. “I should fucking gut you for this,” you say, leveling him with a glare.

Astarion chuckles, though it’s more pained than amused. “I’m flattered. But I was under orders, if that softens the blow.”

“Doesn’t,” you snap.

Still, you don’t hurt him. Just turn to leave, figuring he’ll disappear back into whatever pit he crawled out of. But when you glance back, he’s trailing behind you.

“What are you doing?” you snap again, tired and still on edge.

“I have nowhere else to go,” he says softly, eyes downcast, his voice a quiet plea.

“Not my problem,” you grumble, turning to keep walking.

“Wait,” he calls out, stepping closer. When you face him again, the vulnerability in his posture is tinged with a familiar, deliberate charm. His lips curve into the barest hint of a smile. “I could… make it up to you.  I’m quite skilled at certain things”

You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. “That so? You think I’m just gonna take you in because you bat your lashes?”

“Not just because of that,” he murmurs, tilting his head just enough to catch the faint light. “I can be useful. I wasn't lying before, you know? the mixer? I can get you in.”

You pause, damn it he is beautiful. He shifts closer, his voice dipping into something silkier. “Let me stay, just for a while. I’ll keep out of your way. Or,” he adds, his smile sharpening ever so slightly, “if you’d rather, I could be very in your way. Whatever you prefer.”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “Fine. One screw-up, though, and you’re out. Got it?”

“Crystal clear,” he purrs, bowing his head slightly. “You won’t regret this. I promise.”

As he falls into step beside you, you mutter under your breath. “Already regretting it.”

His soft chuckle is barely audible, but it lingers all the way home.

[byrobird]

A gift piece i made for a friend on Instagram (Abiding_Artist) that commissioned me many times baldur's gate 3.

Featuring their character Shiori and Gortash

[callmelyrus]

The moon lesbians give me life ❤️

in this moment, i want for nothing.

[dreorcaul]

a lil sneakpeak for my zine piece for the @bg3womenswrongs zine!

[gaallo]

Keep your inner fire, soldier

[snowfolly]

This painting is now on ko-fi✨

[radical-l0ver]

I hope everyone can help my family🙏

Hello everyone,

I will tell you my story about the war in the Gaza Strip, and I hope you will help me get out to safety. Thank you very much. I am Ali Miqdad, 33 years old, and my wife, Aya Hamdan, 25 years old. I have two children, my beloved, who is 5 years old and Adam, who is 2 years old

In light of the war on us, we lost everything: home, money, business, and even clothes. I paid everything in the house and business that I had because of the bombing that we witnessed throughout the days. To this day, we have been displaced several times, and the first night was very difficult. In the morning, it was our first displacement and exit from the house, and then we lost. We all lost our beautiful memories and the wonderful things that me and the family used to live on

We lost our beautiful memories and the wonderful things that my family and I used to live on. The hardest thing we lost was safety and peace due to the violent bombing that surrounded us at every time and moment and in all the places to which we were displaced. Also, the days that we spent in displacement several times were difficult due to the lack of work to obtain. For money, clothes, food, water, and meeting the needs of the family and the needs of the children, especially since we are in tents and there is no healthy food or medicine due to the spread of diseases.

Through the process of repeated displacement, we lost the stable and recreational life that I used to live with my wife, my children, Habiba and Adam, who lost their beautiful childhood, the first days of their childhood, and their toys that they loved and played with all the time. My daughter, Habiba, lost her studies in kindergarten, and my wife, who suffers from fatigue and exhaustion all the time. As a result of displacement from one place to another, and from tent to tent, which completely changed the nature of our lives from a beautiful house to a tent in the middle of the street in which we sleep.

I need your cooperation and help in raising money to leave the Gaza Strip because the exit from the Gaza Strip is due to the war

I hope everyone will donate for my family and children🙏❤️

Vetted by:

@gazavetters

@appsa @sar-soor @sayruq @stuckinapril @heritageposts @neptunerings @feluka @malcriada @queerstudiesnatural @rizzylu @determinate-negation