#bg3 astarion x you

[loveandfictionforall]

Maybe some sleep headcanons with Astarion? (yea i heard elves don't need sleep but just imagine 👉👈)

Sleeping with Astarion (not like you think!)

Laying together with Astarion after a long, hard day was a different kind of bliss for you

Mostly you stayed awake until everyone fell asleep because then Astarion would finally move. He would crawl out of his bedroll to slowly walk towards you, quietly laying down behind you.

And every god damn time a sigh escaped your lips as you could feel his cooler body sliding in your bedroll behind you.

"Hi.", you quietly murmured as you felt a breath tickling your sensitive era. Even though you couldn't see him, you could feel his smirk as he gave your ear a quick kiss, noticing your shudder.

His arm would circle around your middle part, pulling you closer to him.

It was a nice contrast. The cool body of Astarion behind you, while the fire before you warmed your face.

"Everything alright?", a quiet question but both of you did not answer to that. It was after all another day without process.

You really wanted to talk with him. It was always different, when you two were finally alone and you could talk about topics you didn't mention in the presence of the others.

But alas, your eyes grew heavy as his slender fingers stroked your stomach after they sneaked under your loose shirt.

"Sleep, my darling. I will watch.", he reassured you, his deep, drawling voice lulling you into dreamland.

Please let it be eternity with him.

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Downed

A/N: I got the cut scene of Astarion imitating Halsin in the middle of drafting a drabble, and this is the result. Please enjoy. Tags: Baldur's Gate 3, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x OC, Astarion x Half-drow!Reader, gender neutral reader, BG3, TDU!Reader, BG3 Astarion WARNINGS: hallucinations, canon-typical violence. Summary: You get hit by a fear spell while in the Underdark and hallucinate shadows in anticipation of fighting the Shadow Curse, Astarion is angry and it's all Halsin's fault. Apparently.

Word count: 1.6k+

(GIF Credit to @iplann)

All Astarion remembered was seeing you go down. 

It was an ambush by two rogue Duergar as you crept through the Underdark. Originally, the pair of you had been on an unimportant quest for you to retrieve some bioluminescent mushrooms to make lanterns; Astarion doesn’t understand the appeal but is also unable to say no to any of your requests. 

He regrets being a pushover at that moment, as it’s landed you both in this one.

After you fell, he had lunged across the field and sunk his teeth into the neck of the Duergar casting spells. He refuses to provide the sorcerer a painless death by draining, instead tearing at the flesh with his teeth. A sick gurgling echoes through the grassy hollow you’d been attacked in, and Astarion releases the dwarf. He stumbles for a moment, clutching at the missing area of flesh on his neck before falling face first into the grass. 

The other blue-skinned creature freezes at the realization they're fighting a vampire, and Astarion wastes exactly zero time thrusting a rapier directly into her heart.

The vampire instantly changes pace from attack to healing as he dashes towards you and leaves the bodies behind. You’re laid out a few metres away, curled into the fetal position and muttering nonsensical words into the humid air. A putrid green film coats your armor, and Astarion wrinkles his nose at the spell. 

“Tav, can you hear me?”

Your eyes find him, familiar but distant and darting about all over the cavern. Astarion recognizes the after effects of a Fear spell, and the Ray of Sickness’ grotesque slime. He was fairly certain the sorcerer had struck you with a bout of sickness while you were paralyzed by fear, hallucinating figures of great evil and unstoppable power. 

“...’starion?” 

“Fortunately for you, yes.” He quips, trying not to let his voice quiver. “If only I was a Cleric.”

Your eyes search his face, landing quickly on his mouth. Astarion freezes as you tense. “V-Vampire.”

His first instinct is to frown, concealing his fangs from your warped mental state. “All the better to keep you safe. Now come on, we need to make haste back to camp so our resident Cleric-”

You clutch at his collar, a wheeze escaping you. Your frenzied eyes have moved away from his fangs to something in the distance, apparently deciding he was less of a threat. “It’s coming. ‘Starion, please, please, get me out of here.”

Astarion recognizes the delusional panic lacing your voice and chooses to hush you softly instead of turning around. He’s determined not to feed the plague gnawing at your mind, and not to let it invade his. You’re the first thing that’s motivated him, loved him for two centuries and he is terrified to see you in such a state. Every other wound has been bandaged or healed shortly thereafter by Shadowheart, but this is different. He couldn’t cover this with gauze, and nothing in his repertoire includes healing of the mind. Rest and comfort will be the best cure for you. 

“It’s a spell, darling.” He coaxes you into looking back at him. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

There’s no stopping the feral gleam in your gaze and Astarion knows you need to get somewhere safe to rest, to be rid of this ailment. He ignores the stink of your gear and scoops you into his arms, immediately angered by the tremors wracking your body. Your arms wrap tight around his statuesque neck and shoulders. 

“They’re everywhere.” You whimper into his collar, pointing towards the Duergar’s bodies. 

Curiosity gets the best of him. “What’s everywhere?” 

“The sh-shadows.” You manage, fingers swiping through half-dried blood on his face. “They’re coming.”

Astarion curses Halsin under his breath. The camp’s talks of making it through the Shadow-Cursed lands had been a hot topic as of late, brought to them by Halsin’s tales of suffocating darkness and misery. It was true you had to navigate through them, but Astarion had his own qualms with wasting their time trying to fix it in order to please the Druid. Especially since said Druid had been eyeing you up as if he were starving each time you saunter across camp.

“There’s too many of your glowing mushrooms here to be any threatening shadows, dear.”

Astarion trudges further into the hollow, finding a small secluded cove to one side. It’s as if the Gods were anticipating someone making a camp out of it - the small opening is no more than a metre wide, and damp lichen hangs in wisps from overhead. Fungi of numerous colors and brightness glow around you both, and there’s a moment of worry that they've stumbled into a transportation circle. The last thing he needs is to be unwittingly thrust to the surface in the Hag’s putrid swamp or a Gnoll’s den. A few fleeting taps with his toes stir no magic in the foliage, and Astarion feels comfortable enough to set you down.

He digs through both your backpacks for supplies, coming up with two bedrolls and enough wood to stack for a half-ass campfire. It takes only a couple minutes  to get your outer layer of clothes off and your body settled on a bedroll before Astarion moves onto the fire. 

Dancing flames have your rapt attention when they spring up from the wood. “No shadows.”

The child-like tone you carry in your confusion tugs at Astarion’s dead heart. “Correct, my sweet. No shadows here. Just a vampire and a very, very confused monk.”

You seem to settle in between bouts of coughing. Astarion sheds his armor to lessen the smell of sickness and looks through his pack once again, coming up empty for any elixir to remedy your fear. He instead stands to peek out of your makeshift camp, confident that as you settle your condition may improve. 

“N-No!” You burst out into a fit as the vampire moves away, one hand clutching his boot. “You can’t leave me here.”

Any intention of looking out is forgotten as you begin to cry. Astarion hushes you like a scared animal, pulling the bed rolls together and joining you on the floor. He indulges you in a rare moment of gentility, pulling you into his side and whispering into your hair. These moments back at camp are rare, saved for when your mates are asleep or out of sight. 

It isn’t until you pull away from the crook of his neck that he notices your eyes are sharper, no longer darting about or hazed over with artificial fear. Despite this, tears still leak from them. 

“Tav? Are you all right?”

You sniff softly. “I’m so tired, Astarion. And I feel terrified… like something’s watching me. But something in me knows it’s not real.”

He nods, tongue running along his fangs. “Damned sorcerer that ambushed us struck you with a Fear spell.”

“I had a dream that we were near Moonrise Towers.” You flounder for a moment, “There were shadows everywhere.” 

“Not a dream, I’m afraid. More a hallucination than anything.” Astarion explains, “A real drag to bring along after the fight, you were.”

His teasing is welcome, chasing away the worst tendrils of darkness licking at your mind. “Cheeky… But I’ve never taken the blow from a Fear spell before. This is awful.”

Astarion can tell your mind is still fearful despite breaking through the confusion, parasite reaching out to his in flashes of white hot panic and terror. Your heart is racing, the ever-so-tempting vein in your neck throbbing in sync. It’s a juxtaposition against your determined face, trying so hard to remain strong. 

“Afraid so… I’ll be speaking with Halsin about his persistence in this shadow curse solution. No need for it to plague you like this. Especially seeing as we haven’t even trudged our way through the Underdark yet.” Astarion’s voice is sharp and surprisingly protective. 

“Astarion, I do feel obligated-”

“You should feel obligated to do nothing. You already play peacemaker for these morons, no need for them to dump all their hopes and dreams on you. Especially when your mind uses them to terrify you.”

A weak chuckle escapes you, and your fingers toy with the fabric of his undershirt. “I think the effects of the spell were to blame for my terror.”

“The effects of the spell are determined by the worries in your mind. In other words, the man of the forest can take them all elsewhere.”

You snort at his distaste towards Halsin, as it’s not the first time you’ve noticed. 

A particularly loud drip of water somewhere in the hollow causes you to jolt into Astarion, adrenaline still coursing like fire through your body. “Gods. How long am I going to feel like a mouse?”

Astarion grips you a little tighter, “Until you rest, most likely.”

“Are you going to meditate?” You ask, curling into his side. 

“I’ll be keeping watch. You need to sleep. Heal your mind from this wretched curse.” Astarion’s words are a little too aggressive, his own nervous mind still concerned for your wellbeing above all else. 

You’re familiar with the tone, and can only smile softly at the vampire’s inability to express concern without placing blame. Perhaps all this talk of a Shadow Curse had caused you to be plagued by such figures in the depths of the spell, but you don’t place blame on Halsin. 

Though, you were certain Astarion would never see it that way. 

He’s taken a moment to relax now, laying on his back with an arm behind his head. You’re curled into his side, one leg hooked over his. Astarion’s other hand traces patterns onto yours, lazy circles that lull your mind into a quiet sense of security. The terror subsides ever so slowly, intensity halved while lying in his arms. 

“Astarion?”

“Hm?” 

“I’m okay, you know.”

A huff answers, and a brief rush of words. “I’m still blaming the Druid.”

“Of course you are.”

_______________________________________

As always, if you enjoy please like/reblog and check out my links for more :)

If you're so inclined to help me out or watch some BG3 content, please please follow me on Twitch!

Masterlist | Send me ideas

[theoldkyokodied]

Really quick doodles of a few scenes from the stream yesterday. Including combat flirting taunting, gale’s magnificently distracting shoes and.. whatever you wanna call gale agreeing to give 15 gold to astarion 😐😑😐😑😐 (that’s me blinking)

[basketobread]

sometimes when the enemy is at like 1 hp, i like to hit them with some good ol vicious mockery because nothing is funnier to me than actually obliterating someone into the next life with a yo mama joke

[iizuumi]

whoever decided to give astarion a gun ily

[anotherdarkiboi]

List of Astarion's Terms of Endearment

This is for the fanfic writers haha. Tell me if I'm missing any so can add it in!

Darling (his most used)

My love, love

My sweet

“You sweet, generous thing”, “you sweet little thing”

Lover

My dear, a dear, dear

Beautiful

Cheeky little pup

My little treat ("-with their cheeks all flushed")

Sweetie

Pet

You wicked little thing (affectionate)

"You're a sweetheart", "you sweetheart"

Delectable little pet (not directed towards Tav but it easily could be)

My friend (yay, we're his friend)

My favorite traveling companion (not a pet name but it's nice to be his favorite)

My leaking blood-bag (technically you refer to yourself as that first and he calls you his one after, but it counts)

You little scoundrel

Edit: Thank you everyone in the comments for adding the Dark Urge ones!

Bhaal-babe (I'm dead, this silly pun I swear)

My sweet, bloodthirsty friend

My precious little Bhaal-babe

My conflicted villain

My dagger-happy friend

Bonus: Ascended Yandere Astarion

My pet, pet

Little love

Precious thing

My treasure

My consort, My Dark Consort

My favorite spawn

Insolent little- (the Dev's notes say that the full line is "you insolent little brat" which, um...)

Insolent little pup (the line was in EA, although I’m not entirely sure if it’s Ascended Astarion. Full line: “you are an insolent little pup, aren’t you?”)

"You ingrate" (When you try to break up with him. It's not really a pet name, but-)

"Property I cherish, but still my property" (his thoughts)

[baldurians]

Be gentle... if you can.

[themaybug]

mortality

[riseatlantisss]

Careful, he bites

Pairing : Astarion x female!reader around 900 words.

morning sex. in bed. with the most amazing vampire. that’s it that’s the plot ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TW : 18+, shameless smut, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, tiny bit of fang kink

I love him a completely normal amount

You open your eyes slowly, savouring the blissful, heavy fog of sleep that still weighs on your mind. The voice that greets you is one you’re sure you’ll never tire of.

“Good morning, my sweet”, Astarion whispers against your ear. The bed smells of night-blooming flowers and cold winter air, just like him. His body is a comforting spoon, the nice coolness of his powerful chest sends shivers down your spine.

Your eyelids are still heavy and with a smile, you settle back in and bury your head in your soft pillow, eager for just a few more hours of precious sleep before starting a new day in the underdark.

Astarion, of course, has other ideas. He exhales and you can feel the light puff of cold air against the back of your neck. Icy fingers skate down your bare arm, dragging the strap of your night gown with them. He dips his head and nuzzles the junction of your neck and shoulder. He toys with the hem of your night gown before slipping beneath it to caress the curve of your hip. You revel in his low groan of appreciation as he discovers you’re wearing nothing underneath.

“Gods, the things you do to me,” he growls, voice muffled slightly as he breathes your scent. “Let me take care of you.”

Wordlessly, you nod and he wastes no time. He gives you a sloppy, hungry kiss that is all tongues, teeth and fangs, and then slowly lowers himself. His fangs leave burning trails across your skin, and you love every bit of it.

You can feel his erection grow next to your thigh and you raise a hand forward to touch him but he grabs your wrist and stops the motion. 

“No, darling,” he grins, “it is all about you today.”

“But –” your attempt to argue is cut short as Astarion disappears between your thighs, wraps his wet lips around your clit and starts sucking. You let out an unbelievably loud whimper of pleasure and he smirks against your body.

Pinning your thighs apart, he works his tongue in an up-and-down motion on one side of your clit and then the other. You grind into his mouth shamelessly as his tongue continues working its magic. Without interruption, he slips first one finger, then two inside you, and pushes them up against your G-spot. You’re already starting to see stars as you feel his fangs settle in the soft mound of flesh above your clit. He applies just enough pressure for it to deliciously sting without ever hurting. Those tiny pinpricks combined with the sucking of your clit and the impossible rhythm of his fingers inside you made you cry out.

“Astarion – I’m– “ you try to articulate between two heavy breaths.  

“I’m right there with you, my love,” he mutters and presses his fangs slightly deeper into your skin, as to urge you to stop fighting the wave of pleasure trying to make its way through your shivering body.  

His tongue slips across that one spot on the tip of your clit that always sets you off, and suddenly you are coming on his mouth, grasping fistfuls of his silver hair and moaning and moaning and moaning. He pushes his fangs deeper and deeper into your skin as he rides out your orgasm with you, using his free hand to hold your hips steady. Your core spasms longer than a pulsing heart, each beat making you thrash helplessly on the bed as he pushes his fingers deep. ​​He waits until you come down from your high before slowly sliding his two fingers out of you and into his mouth to lick them clean. The rest of the world begins to come back into focus but you do not care for it. You only have eyes for him.  

​​"You are absolutely exquisite when you come," he chuckles in that ridiculously arrogant way he has.

He licks his lips as he rises, expression as lazy and smug as a contented cat. You haul him up and into your arms and kiss him hard. He wraps his strong arms around you protectively and takes a moment to listen to your breathing, still shallow from the love explosion. He finds infinite comfort in the repeated rise and fall of your chest. It proves to him that you are real, safe and here, right next to him. 

Before you, Astarion had never known true bliss. Sex – even when it’s mindblowing – doesn’t fix the part of you that’s broken. Good sex soothes, but doesn’t cure, and Astarion, who’s been using sex as a valium substitute since he’s been free from his former Master’s control, knows it better than anyone. But with you, it’s not just sex. It’s safety. It’s intimacy. It’s respect. And it’s all he’s ever wanted.

[loveandfictionforall]

Obsessed with BG3 and I just discovered your wonderful blog! If you’re down, could you please do headcanons for what a date night would look like for Wyll, Astarion, Karlach, and Laezal (I can’t spell her name from memory im sorry 😭)

Aww, you are just so cute! I will try my best, because oh boy, I don't like Lae'zel :D

Astarion

As a very morally grey character Astarion calls a lot of things fun.

He would start a bit more lightly, going out with you to eat something fancy. He will do his usual act, all smirk and suggestive comments until you were laughing, bantering and flirting with each other.

But that doesn't statisfy Astarion. He wants to be unique, because he is unique.

And he begins to lead you through the streets, with one destination in mind - a party for noble people, invites only. But when did this part ever stopped Astarion?

With his silver tongue, a roguish smile and a wink directed at you, he would charm the guards and soon you two could enter.

Absolutely out of place, you were sticking out like a sore thumb.

Soon enough some people were approaching you but Astarion quickly vanished out of sight as he noticed it, leaving you to deal with the mess while he watched in the shadows, observing how you handled it.

If you handled it well, Astarion would appear, lightly groveling and charming you because he now knew that you were capable and intersting enough to keep company with.

If you didn't handle it well? Well, Astarion would watch with a chuckle how the guards took you with them.

Wyll

Maybe you should rather go out with Wyll because he is a true charmer.

Wyll would be half an hour too early, after he prepared everything of course. He would even have some nicely picked flowers there for you, all of them searched and picked by him.

As soon as you would approach, he would give you the flowers, kissing lightly your hand and then blindfolding you to lead you to a beautiful meadow.

A picnic in the dark, in a magical place and with candels everywhere? Exactly. Wyll would lead you to the fluffy blanket, giving you a glass full of wine and gently offering you some fruity sweets.

You two were talking for hours, shoulders lightly brushing against each other, fingers sometimes grazing while reaching for the same thing.

And as the night progressed, Wyll would slowly inch in your direction, so sublte you wouldn't notice it at first.

His body warmth would keep you from getting cool while you two were sitting there the whole night until the first sun beams tickled your nose.

Karlach

A date with Karlach would begin with going to a party.

She loves alcohol and the good mood a party brings.

With good movements she would tease you until you finally joined her on the dance floor and you two wouldn't stop until your feet were hurting so much you couldn't stand up anymore.

Before you would be able to react, she would pull you on her lap or sit down on your lap, whichever you more prefer. Either way, she would lightly massage your shoulders, enjoying the feel of being able to touch you.

After some time you two would leave. Karlach would lead you to a nice, cozy inn, renting a room for you but don't worry, nothing would happen if you were too drunk.

Instead Karlach would rather wrap her arms around you, tugging you close to her while she slowly drew lines with her fingers. She would ask a lot of questions, maybe even a kiss or two would happen but if it did, it would lead to a full blown makeout scene.

Lae'zel

Lae'zel would never call it a date, since Githyanki are very forward and no nonsense. She would rather call it, that you two were preparing for another battle.

She would traing with you, attacking you fiercely and without hesitation. If you are able to keep up with her, she would approve more and more until Lae'zel would straight up kiss you and ask to sleep together.

There would not be much romance but if you did good in any way on any topic, she would appear every so often and request a strict training with you which would lead to sex.

Caring is not really in her nature but sometimes she shows some rare kinds of caring when she wraps a wound of you.

Nevertheless, her missions and her race is the most important thing for her and will always have her priority.

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Thankful

A/N: Everyone wanted more soft Astarion, so how's traumatized instead? Tags: Astarion Ancunin, Astarion, BG3 Astarion, BG3 Imagines, Astarion x OC, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-typical blood, mentions of grieving/loss. ACT III/ 'THE PALE ELF' QUEST SPOILERS Summary: You comfort Astarion and talk about emotions after the events at Szarr Palace.

Word count: 2.1k+ (GIF credit to @silverformymonsters)

Leaving Szarr Palace is both a weight off your shoulders and the biggest burden you’ve carried since this adventure started. Cazador is dead, and Astarion is free as last. No master, and no more being used as a means to an end.

 But it’s never that simple, is it?

Shadowheart and Lae’zel, mercifully, take Astarion’s second wave of heart-wrenching wails, after all the spawn were set free, as their cue to leave. You give him space as he cries and wait until it’s only a soft whimper to approach. He’s on his knees at that point, Cazador’s bloody body inches from his. The daggers still sticks out of the vampire lord’s chest, begging to be used once again. 

You come to a stop behind Astarion’s left shoulder and let your fingers barely brush his skin. For once he feels warm, filled with anger, denial, fear and vulnerability. When he doesn’t brush you off, you press more firmly, moving to the front of his body. Astarion’s hands creep up to your hips and use them as leverage to stagger to his feet. It isn’t until he’s upright that he makes eye contact and breaks your heart into two. 

Blood runs in macabre trails down his skin and clothes, puddling on the floors around him and his fallen master. His eyes, normally alight with mischief and mirth, are downcast, swollen and dripping with tears. The pain is apparent, tied together with confusion and grief for the end of an era, even if it was depraved and lonesome. 

“... I should be happy.” He whispers, pinching his eyes shut. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Oh, Astarion.” You murmur, reaching to envelop him in your arms. 

Your vampire crumbles, arms wrapping tight around you to the point you’re fairly certain you’re not getting enough oxygen. Astarion clings to your clothes, to any concrete fragment of reality that can ground him from what he’s been through. His face buries itself into the crook of your neck, hiding the tears from your prying eyes. One hand comes up to cup the back of his head and strokes his blood-stained curls. 

“I-I… I feel numb. Empty.”

Keeping him close is the only thought in your mind. It’s not the time to delve into the implications of grieving an abuser. You decide it’s best to get back to your lodgings above the Elfsong Tavern to let him have privacy instead of being surrounded by the exact place causing him so much pain. 

And a long journey it is. Past the Gur leader Ulma waiting at the dais, and through the bustling streets of Baldur’ Gate.

Astarion barely makes it into the washroom before he collapses, and you just do your best to keep him on his feet. 

“Here, here. Sit down and I’ll draw you a bath, yeah?”

Astarion drops on the floor where you’re lowering him. You think he nods, but don’t stay long enough to confirm it. The other members of your rag tag team are dotted about the lounge area when you walk in and beeline straight towards Astarion’s chest of clothing. 

Karlach is the only one brave enough to approach you, tapping long talons nervously against her leg. 

“Well? How’s he doin’?” 

“As well as can be expected…” You sigh and sit on his bed, fresh clothes in one hand. “It’s a complicated situation. He hated Cazador, but the man was also some of the only constant interaction Astarion had in damn near two centuries.”

“Sometimes I fell empty, not having orders and all. Not having something constant that tells you where to go and what to do.” Karlach rubs her arms and shrugs. “Then I remember freedom and how much that means. I’m done being bound to some wretched leader. But there’s still a spot that feels empty. It’s healing, but it takes time. Hells, mine’s gotten better just having all of you around.”

Her words kick your brain into gear. “Yeah, that makes sense. Thanks, Karlach.”

Much to your surprise, Astarion’s already in a warm bath upon your return. You close the door behind you and slide the lock over, ensuring privacy for you both. The vampire’s eyelids only lift slightly when you drop his clothes onto the fireplace hearth and drag a wooden chair close. 

“That was fast.” You observe and nod towards the water. 

“Mhm. I caught Gale on his way up from supper. He waved his fingers around and made it work.”

You’re thankful for Gale’s presence and quiet affinity for the vampire, as it would’ve taken you twice as long manually. 

“You don’t have to sit here, you know. I’ll be alright.” Astarion says quietly. 

“Is that you nicely asking me to leave?”

His answer comes quickly. “No. I just don’t want to be a burden.”

The words are like a shot through the heart. “You could never burden me. No matter what.”

Astarion opens his eyes then. “Not even with a century of fucked up emotions? Trauma, as I’m sure you’re thinking?”

Ah, he needs the direct approach. You begin undressing, tossing your belongings in a messy pile on the floor. 

“Fuck off and move over.”

Astarion stares at you and blinks comically before sliding over. 

Once naked, you climb into the still-steaming water. There’s not an over-abundance of room in the tub, but enough that you can both put your backs against opposite sides and face each other. His long legs stretch to either side of your bum while yours remain crossed beneath. With both of you inside, the water easily rises above your chest, licking gently at sensitive collarbones instead.

“Talk.”

He sulks, but you can see the redness in his eyes and the swelling beneath. “And what should I talk about? How I’m not feeling as free as I should despite killing my slave-driver? I don’t need a psychic to tell me something is wrong with me.”

Astarion’s anger is familiar and raw, defending the vulnerable emotions swirling like a whirlpool in his gut. You don’t flich at its bite, nor retreat from its bark. It only rolls off your shoulders, dripping like rain right back into the bathwater. 

“Yes, exactly that. You’re allowed to be upset. To be sad. Cazador and his necromancied skeleton guard were the only constants in your life for a long time. And now they’re gone. You’re allowed to grieve that loss. Even if it feels wrong.”

He draws in a breath, water rippling around his bare chest. “It feels atrocious. After everything he’s done - I’ve done- killing him should be a relief. Joyous, even. And instead I feel like this.”

You reach a hand onto the table to grab soap. Its smell is a pleasant break from blood and gore, and you start towards Astarion with it in hand. 

“You’re still in shock. Everything we saw and did in that dungeon, all those people you knew. It’s natural to be sad and feel guilty.” You lather up your hands and bring them up to his neck, starting a slow and cautious massage. “Releasing them into the Underdark was the best chance they had to survive… and the best way to redeem the sins forced upon you.”

He leans into your hands as they rub the soap into his chest and shoulders. “I suppose it was.”

“Turn.” You tell him softly. He complies, drawing his legs to sit cross legged and face away from you. 

Knowing it might be easier to hear your sentimental words while facing away, you lean into his ear. “No matter what, I’m proud of you. You’re a hundred times the man Cazador ever was.”

Astarion heaves a breath at your words, scarred back rising into your hands as you continue to spread the lather across his skin. You pretend the horrific rune isn’t there, doing your best to prevent another angry outburst His shoulders hitch when you start scrubbing at his hair and gently cupping water to wet his curls. 

“I think I’m glad it’s over. I just….” He’s at a loss for words and flounders. One hand waves aimlessly in the air. 

“Need time?” You supply, gliding your hands across his trapezius. 

One of his strikes upwards like lightning, grabbing onto yours and squeezing. “Yeah. Time.”

You use a small cup from the tray to rinse his snowy curls without getting soap in his eyes. He hums at the warm water rolling down his scalp, and spins to face you as soon as you’re finished. 

“Tav?”

You’re leaning to grab the soap when you pause to look at him. “Astarion?”

“Will you come to bed with me tonight?” Astarion stops and corrects himself. “Just to keep me company.”

“Of course I will.” 

Much to your surprise, Astarion pushes himself through the water until you’re chest-to-chest. The liquid swirls and sloshes, splashing onto the floor and no doubt dripping onto a table at the tavern below. He draws your close, arms winding around your waist and pulling you into his lap. 

You smile and wrap your legs around his middle, ignoring the discomfort due to limited space. Astarion’s head finds its place on your shoulder, nose brushing against the delicate side of your neck. His cool skin is a reprieve against the steamy bathroom. You nuzzle his damp curls and rub his back softly. 

“I’m glad you didn’t stick to your original plan when we slept together that first night.” You hum, “You’ve become quite important to me on this journey.” 

“How could I have? You’re too perfect.” Astarion’s breath sends goosebumps shooting in all directions from the joint of your shoulder. The feeling is similar to that of his bite, but less intense. 

It hits you that he’s probably famished, not having fed on you the night before and being partially drained by Cazador’s profane ritual. Not to mention the amount of strain that’s been put on him both emotionally and physically in the last few hours.

You brush your hair away from your neck. “You need to feed,”

Astarion lifts his head. “That wasn’t what I was-”

“I know. But you’ve been through a lot.” You insist, rolling your head to the side. “Humor me.”

“I suppose I could be tempted.” Astarion’s eyes darken, and he shift back in towards your neck

His cool breath washes over your skin, and combined with the water it’s so chilly that it’s almost numb while he prepares to sink his teeth in. You feel his nose brush your skin, seeking out the delicate vein carrying the liquid he needs so desperately. He marks his target with a gentle kiss, and one hand holds your hip as he bites down. 

Ice shoots through your veins, spreading slowly from collarbones to belly button, and eventually your toes as he drinks. The freezing quickly turns to ecstasy, shooting arousal into every corner of your body though you know it's not the time. Your hand knots in Astarion’s hair, unconsciously encouraging him to keep going. Somewhere in your brain, you realize this is how people fall so easily to vampires. With a blissful numb that rivals the best Opium and a feather-light sensation overtaking all your limbs, what wouldn’t someone fall for?

But luckily, your vampire would never let you fall.

Astarion’s fangs pull away from your skin but his mouth remains on your neck, lapping at the weeping blood until it stops. You’re woozy for sure, and allow yourself a few moments to be dead weight in his embrace. 

“I apologize, darling. I got carried away.”

You shake your head and press a kiss to his chin. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Are you going to be able to navigate back to bed?” He asks, tipping his chin towards the shared space. “While you understand me, I’m not sure the others will be so friendly about my choice of dinner.”

“I’m willing to pay the barkeep for the private room across the hall for tonight.” 

And you do, without thought. Anything that provides Astarion with comfort is worth the price for you. So you both trek across the hallway, leaving the bathroom mess for morning. Exhaustion has completely taken over after Astarion’s bite, and you take a moment to wrestle with the sheets until you’re able to climb under them.

“Comfortable, darling?” Astarion asks as he lays down. 

“Delightful.” You reply, “Now get some rest.”

Astarion does as you say, but keeps you within arms reach at all times. He might be having trouble with his feelings towards Cazador and the missed opportunity for power, but he’s thankful. 

Thankful for his choice, and thankful for you.

As always, if you enjoy please like/reblog and check out my links for more :)

If you're so inclined to help me out or watch some BG3 content, please please follow me on Twitch!

Masterlist | Send me ideas

[theoldkyokodied]

Another doodle pile for the peculiar diet duo

[gaylittleguys]

unstoppable force vs immovable object

[thewizardhole]

my tavs and their romantic partners

[demigoddessqueens]

Astarion: if a beautiful person disagrees with me, I will immediately change my views. I have no principles

Tav: well maybe you should have principles

Astarion: you’re right maybe I should.

[shatouto]

両片思い