#baldur's gate 3 fanf

[bunnidarling]

Gorgeous art of my beautiful slutty son by @theartloca who was an absolute joy to work with and I'm already planning my next project with her!

Excerpt from "The Bath":

Averyll didn’t feel the need to hide away in the forest any longer, starting to feel more at ease with his steadily growing party. Still, he would excuse himself each evening to “Perform his nightly ablutions.” He liked that word: ablutions. It sounded fancy. Like they were staying in a fine countryside manor and not camping near an abandoned village overrun with goblins. He generally used this time to bathe and enjoy a bit of solitude away from the eyes and ears of camp. 

Their fights that afternoon had been particularly brutal, and while all wounds were mostly healed, blood and gore still clung to his skin and hair.  He followed a well-worn path from camp to the river’s edge, setting his towel and fresh clothes next to his backpack on the shore, boots and gloves soon to follow. He let his battle-soiled jerkin and pants fall in a heap before wading waist-deep into the cold, rushing river. He cursed under his breath as he ducked down, staying under as long as he could while he scrubbed his fingertips through his scalp. 

A few moments later he popped up with a gasp, shaking his hair back from his face, eyes sharp for his effects on the riverbank. He wasn’t prepared to see Astarion casually reclining on that rock.

“Gods, Astarion!” he cried, breathless with the shock of surprise. 

Astarion crossed one leg over the other, clasping his hands together on his knee as he looked on, not the least bit fazed. His typical smirk turned into a grin and he chuckled, “You know I thought we’d be a little closer when you started making those kinds of exclamations.” 

Averyll felt heat spread out over his cheeks and chest, traveling further south still, his momentary embarrassment quickly transmuted into pure arousal. Gods damn you, Astarion. Two could play this game. He took the opportunity for all it was worth, standing to his full height allowing the tops of his hips to crest the water. He raised both arms up, shaking his head back as both hands raked through his auburn hair, soaked to a dark russet. He knew he made an attractive picture with rivulets of water sluicing down the smooth planes of his lithe but well toned body. 

Righting his head, eyes slowly slid open to light on his observer, lids at a sultry half mass. His voice took on a smoky tone as he spoke lowly, hands coming down to rest at his sides beneath the water, testing the surface tension. “Do you think of that often, Astarion?” 

The elf raised a silvery brow and pursed his lips and he cast his gaze heavenward as if carefully considering his next words. As if he didn’t already know his script before he walked onto this stage tonight. “Would you like that?” He responded, his own voice dropping into a low, velvety timbre that Averyll could feel pulse in his prick. 

I would love that.

“I might.” He offered noncommittally trying in earnest to mask his desire as he sunk back down into the water letting it slowly swallow him up to his neck, his companion robbed of their view. 

As if taking a cue, Astarion rose, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. He looked down his nose, making sure their gaze locked for a full two heartbeats. 

“Mmmm… Good to know.” He rumbled, strolling off into the forest without so much as a backward glance. 

Get the whole story here:

[songbirdtales]

Just before the Nautoloid (SFW)

Author's Note:

Hi! I'm the author. This is the first of a series of Baldur's Gate 3 fan fiction I'm writing about my OC version of Tav. This series will consist of both SFW and NSFW fics and some scenes will be based on, use dialog and direction from, or reference scenes in the game. I'll be tagging everything as best I can to be mindful of content warnings. This is going to be very queer, and very spicy, and it will have a lot of Astarion in it. I apologize in advance for the depravity and second hand trauma from this OC. This is just a hobby for me but I hope some people find these entertaining. Sam

The tavern calmed in the dead of night as a somber tune echoed into the streets. The sound of lute playing wasn’t new, but this was far from their typical, high energy rabble. At a table near the center of the room, a Tiefling bard played their instrument.

Their dark stone grey complexion could made one think they had Drow in them. Long rose gold hair pulled back into a messy bun was all that brought warmth to their coloring, loose pieces framing their face parted by frayed horns that started near their skin tone and turned black at the tips. A thick splatter of dark freckles ran across their nose and cheeks from one heavily pierced pointed ear to the other. Black sclera framed fay fire eyes that seemed to glow in the lowlight as their gaze stayed locked on their instrument.

The Tiefling was androgynous in a way that confused most, certain aspects of their outward appearance contradicted by typical standards. Ritual scarification framed their lips and chin as well as their brow, white tattoos lining their lower lids and contrasted both their black winged eyeliner and their eyes themselves. There was a softness to their facial structure that made most call them ‘Miss’, but their lack of chest and baritone voice made just as many reverse course as soon as they spoke. They had been accused many times of being deceptive, but the androgyny was entirely honest. The bard had done a great deal to make themself true. The hum of rhythmic plucking repeated as the bard let their jaw slack to sing.

“Tav the Songbird,” The sound of their own name pulled the Tiefling from their focus and the playing stopped, Tav’s mouth still hanging open. Devil fangs hung in plain view as they stared at the gaunt human that approached them. He looked familiar, they’d seen him around when they’d kept worse company. They didn’t need to know more than that to be sure he was trouble they didn’t want.

“The one and only.” Tav rose their plucking hand, twirling it in a flourish for dramatic effect. “Sorry, I’m not taking requests at the moment.”

“Not here for the music, though, could use to play something a little more chipper. Thought there was a funeral going on in here.” The man’s laugh made Tav’s expression sour.

“Then what do you want?” The performance was over and Tav was now glaring at the man. He looked frail, as if he hadn’t eaten regularly in a number of years. The curse of poverty. Tav knew it well.

“You remember Saber, yeah? He’d like to see you.”

“Barely." They lied. "If this 'Saber' wants to invite me to see him he could have sent a letter.” There was a smooth flow to their words, yet they bit off the end of their final words, like sharpened arrowheads now pointed at his throat, ready to fly.

The human began to sweat, his eyes struggling to stay on the bard as his body language became withdrawn. The burning of their hellion eyes scared him, and it was smart of him to be afraid. “Th-this isn’t an invitation.”

“Funny, last I checked, I don’t work for him.” Tav’s tone was void of amusement, each word fluid string of words like the pull of a violin bow now cut like a razor. “So if he wants to see me, for whatever reason, he can do it like every other stranger. Otherwise I have no interest in hearing from him again.” Their eyes narrowed at the human. “Do you understand?”

The human messenger was sweating profusely now, his eyes on the ground as he nodded. A soft “Y-yes,” croaked from his throat in response.

“Good,” Their voice softened only ever so slightly before it hardened once more. “Now go, before I make you.”

He didn’t need any more convincing. The human quickly turned tail and ran. A minor inconvenience to an otherwise mediocre night. Tav finished their drink and took a chunk of bread for the road before settling with the bar and left.

Tav was drunk, their balance unstable as they wandered down the road. The Tiefling steadily broke apart the bread and ate it as they walked, lute on their back, and pockets filled with many things, but not a single gold. “At least I broke even.” They sighed under their breath.

They’d only closed their eyes for a second when a strange sound came from overhead. It was like a breathy explosion, as if something had just vanished from existence, or materialized.

Tav didn’t even get a chance to look up before the nautiloid ship plucked them from the street. The next thing they remembered was the tadpole.

[the-oucast]

~About Me~

��� Name: outcast/rose

⊙my own personal tag #outcast yapping🥀

•19

•they/them

•Fandoms:

- Beetlejuice

- Z-Nation

- Mommy I'm A Zombie/ Daddy I'm A Zombie

-9 (movie- 2009)

- Salad Fingers

- Alice In Wonderland

-frankweenie

- Nightmare before christmas

- Corpse Bride

-Baldur's gate 3

- Resident Evil

-Life Is Strange

-Slime Rancher 1 and 2

-FANF

-Bully

-Red Dead Redemption

- Danganronpa [all games/anime]

-Detroit Become Human

-Night In The Woods

-Sally Face

-Stardew Valley

- Adventure time [show and games]

}{More to be added and I may have forgot a few}{

• I don't really know what I'll post, I may write from some famdoms I like. When I make a final decision I will make a separate post about the rules. For now I will reblog and just talk about games and shows I like.

•If you have any questions feel free to ask, if I am uncomfortable with the question I will not be answering.

• I don't really know what to add I will probably be updating this post or making a new updated version every few months

•Thank you for reading and checking out my account! ☆

[theartloca]

It was a pleasure doing this commission ~ 💕✨️ Can't wait to work with you again! 🤩

Gorgeous art of my beautiful slutty son by @theartloca who was an absolute joy to work with and I'm already planning my next project with her!

Excerpt from "The Bath":

Averyll didn’t feel the need to hide away in the forest any longer, starting to feel more at ease with his steadily growing party. Still, he would excuse himself each evening to “Perform his nightly ablutions.” He liked that word: ablutions. It sounded fancy. Like they were staying in a fine countryside manor and not camping near an abandoned village overrun with goblins. He generally used this time to bathe and enjoy a bit of solitude away from the eyes and ears of camp. 

Their fights that afternoon had been particularly brutal, and while all wounds were mostly healed, blood and gore still clung to his skin and hair.  He followed a well-worn path from camp to the river’s edge, setting his towel and fresh clothes next to his backpack on the shore, boots and gloves soon to follow. He let his battle-soiled jerkin and pants fall in a heap before wading waist-deep into the cold, rushing river. He cursed under his breath as he ducked down, staying under as long as he could while he scrubbed his fingertips through his scalp. 

A few moments later he popped up with a gasp, shaking his hair back from his face, eyes sharp for his effects on the riverbank. He wasn’t prepared to see Astarion casually reclining on that rock.

“Gods, Astarion!” he cried, breathless with the shock of surprise. 

Astarion crossed one leg over the other, clasping his hands together on his knee as he looked on, not the least bit fazed. His typical smirk turned into a grin and he chuckled, “You know I thought we’d be a little closer when you started making those kinds of exclamations.” 

Averyll felt heat spread out over his cheeks and chest, traveling further south still, his momentary embarrassment quickly transmuted into pure arousal. Gods damn you, Astarion. Two could play this game. He took the opportunity for all it was worth, standing to his full height allowing the tops of his hips to crest the water. He raised both arms up, shaking his head back as both hands raked through his auburn hair, soaked to a dark russet. He knew he made an attractive picture with rivulets of water sluicing down the smooth planes of his lithe but well toned body. 

Righting his head, eyes slowly slid open to light on his observer, lids at a sultry half mass. His voice took on a smoky tone as he spoke lowly, hands coming down to rest at his sides beneath the water, testing the surface tension. “Do you think of that often, Astarion?” 

The elf raised a silvery brow and pursed his lips and he cast his gaze heavenward as if carefully considering his next words. As if he didn’t already know his script before he walked onto this stage tonight. “Would you like that?” He responded, his own voice dropping into a low, velvety timbre that Averyll could feel pulse in his prick. 

I would love that.

“I might.” He offered noncommittally trying in earnest to mask his desire as he sunk back down into the water letting it slowly swallow him up to his neck, his companion robbed of their view. 

As if taking a cue, Astarion rose, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. He looked down his nose, making sure their gaze locked for a full two heartbeats. 

“Mmmm… Good to know.” He rumbled, strolling off into the forest without so much as a backward glance. 

Get the whole story here: