#Requests: BG3

[a-bit-of-writing]

Hello! If you’re still taking requests, I’d love to request an Astarion x Reader fic that takes place in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. Perhaps the two of them decide to share a tent for the first time since Astarion’s confession and they’re having a gentle/sweet moment between them as they feel out their new, real relationship. It can definitely be a little angsty too if it feels fitting. Thank you! 😊

This moment calls for it to be both touching and awkward for obvious reasons. Hopefully you’ll enjoy!

Fandom: Baldur’s Gate 3 

Characters: Astarion x Reader

Summary: Your first night sharing a tent with Astarion should have been simple: crawl inside, close the flap against the hungry gloom of the Shadow-Cursed Lands, try to sleep. But nothing involving Astarion is ever simple.

Canvas rustles overhead, trapping the faint reek of damp earth and the iron-tanged air that seeps through every seam. An oil-lantern, its flame warded against the curse, casts amber pools across the cramped space, enough light to reveal dust motes and the pale shimmer of Astarion’s skin. He stands just inside the entrance, boots planted as though the darkness outside might storm in and drag him back to nights he barely survived.

He sweeps his crimson cloak aside with theatrical flair, yet his posture betrays a tension you’ve only begun to recognize: shoulders tight, chin lifted a touch too high.

“A single bedroll,” he notes, voice velvet over steel. “How… economical.”

“Supplies are limited,” you say, kneeling to unlace your boots. “And you kept insisting you don’t sleep.” You shoot him a look over your shoulder. “Thought you wouldn’t mind sharing.”

He arches a brow. “Darling, I’ve never minded sharing — just usually on my terms.” A beat. Then softer, “Still, I suppose the company is… preferable.”

The admission lingers, raw and earnest. Your heart taps hard against your ribs. Yesterday he confessed he cares — truly, terrifyingly cares — and the words still echo in your chest. Now the reality of closeness is here, cramped and immediate and so fragile you fear one wrong breath might shatter it.

You tug the bedroll open. The lantern glow limns the curve of his cheek, the silver of his hair. You have to swallow before speaking.

“Come on, then.”

He hesitates, a slight retreating tilt, like a startled animal. Reflexive. Then with deliberate grace he kneels opposite you, boots discarded, fingers brushing the blanket’s edge. They linger there — pale, elegant, trembling almost imperceptibly.

“I don’t know how to… do this.” The whisper is barely a sound.

You stretch your hand across the narrow space. Your knuckles graze his. He could pull away — once, he might have. Tonight, he turns his palm up, threading fingers with yours. A subtle shiver travels through his cool skin.

“We start by lying down,” you murmur, “and seeing what feels right.”

A ghost of a smile. “Practical as ever.”

Both of you shift onto the bedroll: you first, on your side facing the canvas wall; he follows, chest meeting your back in tentative alignment. His breath fans your nape, carrying faint traces of copper and wine. Your pulse hammers so loudly you’re certain he hears, vampiric senses and all.

Outside, the cursed mists slither around campfires and watch-posts, but inside the tent the world narrows to heartbeat and breath. His hand hovers at your waist, undecided. You reach back, clasping it, guiding his palm to rest against the curve of your hip. Your own skin burns with warmth; his is cool, but the contrast is startlingly pleasant.

“I keep expecting this to vanish,” he confesses, voice low, words brushing the shell of your ear. “That I’ll wake alone, shackled to Cazador’s cruelty again. Every kindness feels… temporary.”

You turn beneath his arm, face to face now in the glow. Your thigh presses into his, and a blush blooms across your cheeks — heat he surely senses. You lift one hand to his cheekbone; he flinches at the tenderness, then exhales, lashes lowering. The vulnerability there — raw, unmasked — makes your chest ache.

“If you wake up alone,” you say, stroking your thumb under his eye, “I’ll come find you. And if I can’t, you’ll come find me. That’s as permanent as anything we have.”

For a long moment he studies you — searching, weighing. Then his lips curve, faint but real. “Stubborn.”

“Takes one to fall for one.”

A soft huff — half laugh, half disbelieving sigh. He leans in, presses his forehead to yours. No seductive tilt of mouth, no calculated angle — the gesture is clumsy, honest. You breathe in together, and in that shared air something fragile but fierce unfolds.

You slide closer until your torsos meet, your curves molding to his lean frame. The contact sends a spark skittering down your spine, but neither of you chase it further tonight. Instead, he draws the blanket over both your shoulders, cocooning you against the night. His arm wraps around your waist, holding you, not claiming.

Minutes stretch. The lantern sputters. 

Your eyelids droop, lulled by the steady cadence of his breathing.

Just before sleep claims you, his lips brush your hairline, feather-light. “Thank you,” he whispers, almost inaudible.

“For what?” you murmur.

“For being… real.”

You squeeze his hand in reply. Outside, shadows slide across the cursed earth, but inside the thin canvas walls you find a tenuous peace — warmth against cool skin, fear and hope interlaced like fingers in the dark. And for the first time since the Moonrise confession, Astarion lets himself rest.

[sclappin]

Hey guys! Let's put my art to good use!

Dr. Mohammed Al-Deeb ( @mohammedaldeeb ) reached out to me on my personal blog looking for help spreading awareness and getting donations for his fundraiser to get himself and his family out of Gaza & support themselves in Egypt once they get there. He is #212 on nabulsi and el-shab-hussein's Vetted Evacuation Fundraiser spreadsheet.

I'm doing drawing requests for anyone who donates at least €5 to his GFM and sends me a screenshot of their receipt. They can be sent to me here or @petitelappin. You can request a guy from your shows, your OC, your cousin Kyle, and I'll make a little drawing for you.

Match my own donation of €20 and I'll add color!

Let's see how much we can raise!

[bone0921]

Request: I feel like too many people draw Shadowheart being pretty and shit. Which. Fair. She is. But I think more people should draw her killing and stabbing and stuff.

Shadowheart after 5 fights totally spent on magic but she remembers she can throw hands

-

[emahriel]

come grab your new morning alarm fellas (x)

[angiemaniac]

BG3 except it's Shrek

[ravennowithtea]

a combination of several bloodweave requests 💜✌️

[hekuuu]

[khywren]

[madbalalaika]

Based on "Sauced" by dirty_whorchata. Very wholesome and has just the right amount of spice :>

Requests and (urgent) commissions | Buy me a ko-fi ☕💗

[andithil]

Gale puts on his robe and wizard hat

this one is for all the millennials and above out there, particularly the one whose idea this was: @inouken 💜

[calolily]

Patreon request: Gale in short shorts. Featuring Blowmance Gale.

[stdismas]

[deepdragons]

pspspspspspsps minthara armor reference pics

[thewritetofreespeech]

I really think Gale needs to know that he is competent and good at things even without his magic/ without doing his magic.

Gale× woman girlfriend tav where they have soft sex and Gale want to enhance the experience with his magic, but reader shows him that he doesn't need to.

---------------------------🟣----------------------------------

When Tav told him that she loved him back, he thought his chest might explode from just pure excitement & relief. Not the orb.

He had been fairly certain that Tav felt the same as him. Mentally reviewed all their moments together. Stolen glances. That moment in the Weave that still seemed to linger on his fingertips even now. But one was never sure of these things until they happened. And given how his last ‘grand gesture’ had ended, Gale was nervous that this would be another defeat as well. Yet to be accepted, to be loved in return by someone he respected & admired again, Gale could die a happy man. Should the right moment Elminster spoke of was to come.

For now, however, he wanted to focus on the now. He wanted it to be perfect. A vision, just like Tav was to him. To show her how deep his affection was for her, even with their short time together. He had it all planned. To show her his home. To show him where he found the most peace and solace when not at her side. Then to make love in the way of the gods by a perfect mending of souls & mind. It would be perfect.

Yet when he told Tav of his plan, she denied him. Saying that she didn’t want illusions, just him.

“Are you sure?” Gale was caught off guard by her response. Expecting that, when offered the opportunity to experience what so few mortals could, she would jump at the chance. Even with his limitations on the Weave between the tadpole and Mystra’s bars, Gale knew he could get them close to his experience in the heavens. He wanted that for both of them. More than what these simple husks of flesh could bide them. “I can do more than woo you. I could wow you.”

Tav chuckled at his comment. Amused, even though he was being totally serious, and reaffirmed that she wanted the man, not the magic.

Gale was entirely nervous at this point but tried not to show it. He had a plan and all that was out the window. What was he supposed to do now?? The wizard endeavored to stay calm and continue with at least the original plan of being with Tav. He didn’t know if they would have a moment like this again and he would be gods damned if he was going to waste it.

Conjuring just a small bit of magic for a bed, as his back would never recover from making love on the hard ground, Gale smiled when he saw Tav fall back on it playfully. She was always so funny. This odd kind of silly mixed with bravery. Gale couldn’t remember the last time he had been with someone who was silly. Mystra was always so serious, and her wizard acolytes from his school days were no different.

He watched Tav sit up on the bed. Beckoning him over with a look and gesture of her hand that held more magic in it to command than any spell Gale could conjure. He had to obey.

Climbing onto the bed with her, Gale leaned in to kiss Tav a second time. Deeper than the first. Her lips were soft, but a little chapped from their journey. It was warm though. That heat seemed to fill Gale to his bones. He’d forgotten what it was like being with a mortal after so much time with an immortal. Mystra always seemed happy with their coupling. Open and willing to reciprocate, but it was always incorporeal for them. Gale had made offers to pleasure her in other ways. Use what skills he had to please his goddess, but she always declined. As if unwilling to let her once mortal body turn divine be touched in any way resembling a human. At the time Gale had been contented with that. But with the clarity that distance and perspective could now offer, he could now see the benefits of both.

Gale gasped into their kiss as he felt Tav’s fingers brush over the front of his tunic. Down from his chest to his belly. The muscles twitch even with the slightest touch. He had forgotten about that too. Touch.

He moved from kissing Tav’s lips down to her neck. Her breath hitched as her pulse hammered against his lips. Feeling her life’s drum just there against her skin. Gale could understand why Astarion was so tempted now. As he kissed her neck and collarbone, his fingers danced over her body. Gale may not have magic in his fingers when it came to locks, but he was certainly dexterous enough to be able to do lacings & the like. Their garments melting away as if by actual magic.

Gale took a moment to push up on his hands and get a full look at Tav. She was beautiful. Radiant. The light on her skin. The pert of her breasts in the night air. The imperfections of scars, freckles, and spots here & there all perfect. The perfection of realism.

The wizard swooped back down to finish kissing Tav all the way down. Moving to her sternum. Toying with her breasts. The weight of them soft but noticeable as he worked them in his hand. He moaned in tandem with Tav as her fingers brushed into his hair as he suckled at her breast. Feeling her there, reciprocating, listening to her enjoy what he was doing to her, Gale thought he might burst. He was so hard, and the bedding he had conjured provided little relief to the pressure as he rubbed against it.

Gale continued his path down. Kissing over Tav’s stomach until he came to the apex between her thighs. “Can you open a little more for me, my love?” He was hesitant to use the term of endearment. Fearful that he might have pushed too far. Perhaps they were not ready for pet names. But when he saw Tav part for him with a shy little smile, he decided he would call her that every day.

Her scent flowed up to him as her legs parted. Sweet yet sensual. Gale felt his mouth literally water in reflex. How long had it been since he tasted a woman fully? How longer still had it been since he’d done this with a woman that he loved?

Even with the lapse in time, it was like a fish to water for Gale. Based on Tav’s moans & shutters he had not forgotten how to please with his verbose, practiced tongue. He swiped up through her center, teasing the nub at the cleft, before sliding back down to collect her sweet honey. His hands massaged her thighs which were warm and lax by his ears. Gods. How had he gone so long without this in his life? He felt like a starving man sat down in front of his first meal.

Gale moaned into her cunt as he felt Tav reach for him between her legs. Fingers in his hair. Gripping and pulling in pleasure. His cock was already rock hard but it jutted in excitement with every tightening of her fingers. He made quick work to finish lest he truly embarrass himself on their first rendezvous.

Tav cried out as she came. Her thighs tightening in his hand. She looked beautiful lying there all spent. The slightest hint of perspiration on her skin illuminated in the moonlight. Gale had seen gods, but he could think of no sight finer.

He crawled over Tav again until they were nose to nose. “Are you sure?” He wanted to ask again. Maybe she had changed her mind? Maybe this was enough for him to hope for?

Tav just wrapped her arms around his neck and braced her knees against his side. “Do it.”

The commanding voice sent a shiver down Gale’s spine. Enough to make him almost cum right there. He restrained himself and reached down to moisten his cock with spittle and pre-cum. Then he lined up with Tav’s entrance and pushed forward.

The two of them moaned. Gale did not expect how hot inside her would be, how tight. With Mystra everything was so open and vast. The vastness of eternity and the Weave open to them to express their feelings. Here, with Tav, everything seemed to file down to a single point. A single moment. Just the two of them in the whole wide world. Gale moved his hips back and pressed forward again. Starting a slow, easy rhythm. He wanted this moment to last forever; or at least as long as possible.

Tav held on to him and moved her hips back to meet him. The perfect partnership, just like their adventure. Gale leaned down to kiss her and was met with equal passion. Tongues melding, gasping breaths, hearts racing. Everywhere Tav touched him seemed to leave a burning trail across his body, waiting to consume him. Had it always been like this with mortals and he had just forgotten? No. Gale knew he would remember this if it had happened. It had to be Tav.

His hips sped up and Tav rose to meet him with glee. He could feel that he was going to climax soon, and it became his single focus for the next few moments before stumbled in his thrust with a low, powerful moan. White hot flashes across his eyes as he was sure was spilling inside her.

Gale broke from a final kiss with Tav in their coupling and rested his head against hers. He felt tired, but indeed sated as he anticipated he would be. Complete. Should the world and the orb come to swallow him whole, Gale would be able to do it with but one regret now on his mind. That he couldn’t be with her longer.

The wizard carefully dislodged himself from Tav and pulled her close with the conjured blanket to wrap them in. “We’ll need to head back before morning.” He reasoned. The others would come looking for them, and his spell of stars would not last forever. But it would for a little while longer. For now, he just wanted to spend the remainder of the night with Tav in his arms. As a man. As two lovers. Not a wizard and adventure on a path to save the world. Just him and Tav.

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

It's 2025 and still every time one of you insist Gale or Wyll as the "straight companions" I have sex with them 5 more gay times. Sometimes both at once. All as men. Very gayly.

[bluebells-and-dragonflies]

Imagine Astarion with ears so sensitive that he's never willingly allowed anyone to touch them except for you. Imagine laying next to him in your bed, facing him, lifting your hand up slowly for that first touch. His eyes on yours, the rapidity of the breath he doesn't need to take, but still does reflexively. Seeing that he's nervous, but that he's trusting you, feeling his shaking hand come to rest on your waist. The audible sound he makes- half a moan, half a gasp- when you finally brush your thumb over the soft skin at the tip of his ear.

You trace the long shell of his ear and watch his pretty eyes, deep red like velvet in the moonlight, flutter shut. He says your name softly, as close as you've ever heard him to prayer. You pinch his earlobe gently, and his hips roll forward involuntarily, the jut of his hipbone pressing against your thigh as he makes himself still. Heat flares low in your belly, but you tamp it down as quickly as possible- likewise, Astarion makes himself still against you. This isn't sex and won't become sex, you'd promised each other (though that's not to say that you won't explore this thoroughly during one of your hours-long lovemaking sessions. He is all about experimentation these days, after all).

You lay there, touching him in his most vulnerable place, with reverence and grace and occasionally disbelief that you could be here at all with this beautiful, horrible, ridiculous and wonderful man, that you could be trusted so completely. You take in his every shuddering breath, the flexing of his fingers in your shirt, the softness of his mouth when he presses his lips to yours and tells you he loves you. If you have your way, if he has his, if somehow your utterly insane lives hold together for a year or a decade or ten, it will always be like this.