Halsin stares down at Astarion, who has fallen asleep in his lap. The druid watches as his bare chest swells, and deflates, and swells, and deflates again. All is silent at camp, save the flickering campfire nearby, and the chittering bugs of late night. If Scratch is snoring again, the tent’s furred drapery does well to mute it.
After some time, Halsin notices the pale elf’s eyes flutter, just slightly, as he dreams. Halsin hopes they are restful dreams, this time. He hopes that wherever Astarion goes, there is sunlight.
Of course, Halsin notices the elaborate scars, too, which they hadn’t yet addressed. At camp, Astarion seems to bat away the most careful inquiries about them with flippant jokes and insincere flirtation. So, Halsin takes care to avoid the subject—for now. Noticing, Halsin thinks, is the least he can do.
Ever so gently, Halsin parts his thick brown fingers—calloused and scarred—and runs them through silken silver hair.
Astarion wakes with a start, a gasp half-caught in his throat when his scarlet eyes, darting madly, finally meet the bigger elf’s gaze.
“You’re safe,” Halsin murmurs. He drags a warm thumb across Astarion’s cool cheek. “You’re here.”
After a long, long pause, Astarion’s muscles unclench—but his bloodshot red eyes remain locked into Halsin’s. He nods mechanically, still processing. In stillness, the two maintain their stare.
Halsin waits.
The fire crackles. The bugs chitter. Perhaps Scratch snores, somewhere.
Nature waits for no one, Halsin thinks.
Still, Halsin waits for him.
Slowly, Astarion sinks back into him. He eventually makes a breathy noise of release, and allows his eyelids to grow heavy again. Halsin smiles without teeth. He hums absentmindedly, his rhythmic petting making faint sounds of tenderness as his finger pads run against scalp, against cheek, over and over.
Astarion’s breathing syncopates back into its resting place, first slow and unmeasured, and then finally…
Halsin stares down at Astarion, who has fallen asleep in his lap.
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So many of my recent commission requests are preemptively feeding into my addiction for bg3 because I can already tell I'm going to be feral for it when I can finally play!
Thanks goes once more to @pikapeppa for this one ❤️ Check out her Astarion x Tav slow burn if you're looking to feed your own addiction!
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My Tav/Halsin/Astarion grabbing some bear tiddy
The first one is a pile of Asterion sketches because im trying to get used to drawing this mans faccceee
I love these two SO MUCH im so down bad for Halsin and Astarion. I was trying out a new brush but stopped using part ways on my TAV(Bones), so dont mind the weirdness on the lines. Who knows. I might fix this up and color it to be my banner 😎
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Baldur's Gate fanartists will draw Astarion like a renaissance painting and Wyll like the cover of an adventure novel and Gale like a Leyendecker drawing and Karlach like the cover of a trashy romance novel (where she is the beefy hunk and her love interest is the swooning maiden) and Lae'zel like a knight in a manuscript and Shadowheart and Minthara like the cover of a lesbian pulp novel and Halsin coming out of a lake like the bear equivalent of the Birth of Venus and they're all so right
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