#astarion x reader
Text
astarion is so cold during the winter months that he clings to his warm-blooded tav like a snake sunning on a warm rock.
and when tav is burning in the heat of the summer they go lay on him (or, alternatively, have him lay on top of them) because he’s like an oversized ice pack.
a quite beneficial arrangement.
#astarion#astarion imagine#astarion x reader#baldur's gate 3#astarion x tav#astarion x you#bg3 astarion
314 notes
·
View notes
Text
Beg 18+
Pic Credit: astarionposting
Astarion x F!reader
Summary: Astarion asks for more blood, you make him work for it.
Warnings/Tags: Smut MDNI, fingering, begging, slight overstimulation, sub!Astarion, switch!Astarion, Druid!Reader
Word Count: 3.8K
Masterlist
"There you are, darling,"
Astarion hovers above you as you sit cross-legged in the grass by your tent, his shadow blanketing you, blocking the sun's warmth. You hum in acknowledgment, but your focus is solely on your book. A delicate finger dangles in front of the vampire, who audibly scoffs but otherwise stays silent and waits, patiently observing.
You pick at the skin of your lips absentmindedly with your teeth as you flip the page. You can feel his eyes on you, taking every inch of your body in with his wandering gaze. Shifting in the grass, you continue to read, relishing the impatience dripping from Astarion, smirking when each flick of the page elicits a huff of annoyance from the vampire.
Once your chapter finishes, you mark your page and lean back on your hands to look up at the man with a quizzical arch to your brow. "How can I help you, Astarion?"
His annoyance melts like ice in the sun as a sultry smile stretches his lips. "Can I not simply want to see your enchantingly beautiful face?"
You snort, "You have barely spoken to me since the tiefling's party. So I'd say you want something." Standing, you brush off the dirt on your pants and move to store your book away.
"I have to!" Astarion balks, pressing a hand to his chest in a dramatic display. "Besides, we have been incredibly busy running all over the gods damn wilderness since you and everyone else seem to want to play the hero."
You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, a playful retort poised on your tongue. "I'm terribly sorry that some of us have morals and a conscience," you tease, your gaze meeting him with a mixture of challenge and amusement.
"Oh, I have morals, my sweet," Astarion purrs, leaning into your space, his breath chilly against your skin. "however, mine sway towards the more sinful side."
You suppress the shudder that trembles through your body. Astarion always has a way of reducing you to a mumbling, blushing mess with only a few salacious words. It's like he holds the key to pulling you apart and leaving you consumed by him, and he knows it, too. But you're not giving in that easily. There's something he wants. You can see it in his eyes, and he's not going to get it without working for it.
Putting your hand up, you interrupt his following flirty remark. "Did you want something? Or are you just here to interrupt my free time?"
Astarion looks at you in shock, mouth open to speak, but no words seem to want to flow. His eyebrows furrowed, and a smirk stretched his lips. Leaning on one hip, Astarion flicks out his hand, idly looking at his nails.
"Yes, actually, I have a list. Coin, sex, blood, revenge," Astarion counts on his fingers, his tone dripping with amusement. "Certainly not in that order, and I could go on, but what I came here for specifically is something that might be better…" Astarion looks around the camp, taking mind of everyone. "Discussed in private."
Having a hunch on where this would lead, you stifle a laugh, a plan forming in your head. "Then lead the way." You motion for him to walk, smiling brightly at the vampire.
Astarion nods smugly, obviously feeling like his plan was going just as he attended. He escorts the two of you past the others' tents and deep into the woods. Your hunch seems more viable as the brush becomes thicker and the symphony of nature's melody replaces the still air.
After a few minutes of walking in relative silence, the two of you break into a small clearing. Its grass has spatters of bright patches of wildflowers, and the colors of oranges, pinks, and blues contrast against the expanse of green. There's a small pond on the far side, and cattails and pond reeds sway in the winds. A deer is grazing the water, but sensing Astarion as a predator; it quickly retreats to the woods.
Paying more attention to the scenery, you had yet to notice Astarion stop mid-step and swing on his heel. You stumble slightly into his chest. "I believe this spot will do nicely," he declares smugly as you step back.
Taking a step back, you quickly recover, "And why are we here exactly, Astarion? I was quite enjoying my book."
For a moment, uncertainty flickers across Astarion's features before swiftly being concealed behind a facade of confidence and a devilish smile. Turning away from you, he strides further into the small alcove.
"Are you so eager to escape my company, my dear?" he counters playfully, eyes scanning the clearing. "I thought you would like this little spot. I had no idea how beautiful the woods could be."
"You're stalling," you accuse.
"Am not!" Astarion's voice echoes against the canopy.
Folding your arms over your chest, you give Astarion a pointed look.
The vampire sighs deeply, shoulders slumping. "Gods, this is embarrassing," Astarion mumbles under his breath so low you barely catch it. He combs a hand through his tousled curls, not bothering to turn back to face you. "Fine, yes, you see… I'm hungry, darling. Starving, actually."
Of course, the prick ignores you for almost a week to ask you for a bite. After what he did, he thinks he can call on you like his personal snack pack. Oh no, he's going to have to do better than that.
"Then hunt." You smirk, "Or did you need me to ensnare something for you?"
"Excuse me! I am perfectly capable of hunting!" Astarion snaps his head back and storms toward you. "It's these bloody woods; there's barely any fauna in the cursed thing."
His outburst has the surrounding animals scurrying, and before you can open your mouth to utter a mocking retort, Astarion grabs you by the waist and pulls you flush against his body. You yelped at the sudden force of his moments, your hand catching yourself on his chest.
"Don't make me say it," Astarion breathes against your ear, his hands trailing teasing paths down your sides.
"Astarion," you chuckle, feigning ignorance. "I don't understand what you're implying. If you want something, you'll need to say it."
Astarion nuzzles against your neck with a groan of frustration, his lips brushing against your skin in a maddeningly gentle caress. "Darling, may I have a taste?" He murmurs, the scrape of his fangs against your flesh nearly causing you to relent. "I'm famished, and your blood… Gods, it's intoxicating. I promise to make it just as pleasurable for you."
How easy it would be to say yes. Let him take what he wants and wait for the next time he wants something from you. But you weren't his little chew toy, just waiting for whenever he deems you worthy enough for attention. No, he needs to learn.
"Beg." You demand, twirling out of his grasp and pushing him away gently.
"What?" Astarion pauses, disbelief written across his face as if he misheard you.
"Beg." You repeat, your words slipping from your lips mockingly slowly.
"Are you serious?"
You meet his gaze with unwavering resolve, waiting for him to comply. As realization dawns, Astarion's expression shifts to amusement.
"Joking doesn't suit you, dear," he scoffs, his laughter echoing through the clearing.
Silent and persistent, you hold his gaze, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. His eyes drift to the faint scar beneath your chin, a silent reminder. Wetting his lips, Astarion clears his throat before looking at you, clearly trying to grapple for the upper hand.
"Must we really play this song and dance?" He asks.
"If you want my blood, this is how you'll get it."
You hold firm, with your arms crossed over your chest. Astarion stares at you as if seeing you for the first time, and a mix of emotions storms behind his eyes. His body seems to deflate, coming to terms with the fact that you won't back down. Licking his lips, Astarion swallows hard and opens his mouth to speak.
"Darling," he murmurs through gritted teeth, his posture betraying his inner turmoil. "Allow me a taste of your exquisite blood. I'm starving and beg for your mercy."
"On your knees," you command softly, relishing the power that surges between you. "And I want a please this time."
Astarion looks at you with wide eyes. "Must I degrade myself further?" The anticipation in his voice betrays his reluctance to give in to you. "You've already gotten what you've wanted."
Biting your lip, you step closer and delicately cup his jaw, your touch gentle but commanding, and bring Astarion's lips tantalizingly close to yours. "I'll let you have your fill of my blood and more if you want. But only if you're a good boy and listen." Astarion breath leaves his lungs in a shuddering gasp, all fight seeping from his body.
"You are a cruel woman."
With a resigned sigh, Astarion sinks to his knees. His silver curls reflect the golden light filtering through the forest canopy. His back is pin straight, and his neck is arched up to look at you with his deep crimson eyes. You can't help but focus on the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows again.
"I beg, please allow me the privilege to taste your tantalizing blood," he starts, but you zone out the rest of his words, focusing more on Astarion himself.
You focused on how his shirt hugs his chest, the cotton straining in some places while loose in others. You noticed how blue his veins are, just under his pale skin. You see how his pants seemed tight in the front, something stiff straining against the thick fabric.
Wait. Oh. Now that is interesting.
You pounce before you can think things through, mind moving more on instinct than anything else. Astarion's plea for you is replaced with a yelp as you push him on his back and straddle his lap.
"Wh-what are you?" he stutters before letting out a pathetic moan he will most certainly deny later.
You capture his mouth in a heated kiss. Your tongue runs over the seam of his lips, and when Astarion allows you access, you lick into his mouth. Your tongues twirl in a practiced dance as you deepen the kiss. Astarion groans into your mouth. A hand moves up to cup your head, fingers combing through your hair.
"Astarion," you purr breathlessly, rolling your front against the vampire's growing bulge. You press your body closer against his, practically willing yourself to melt into him. "Did begging for me get you all excited?"
"Excuse you? No! Don't be ridiculous," he tries to deny but fails when another moan rakes through his chest with another turn of your hips.
"Look at you, all hard and needy." You lick up the column of his throat, stopping to playfully bite at his ear before whispering. "Do you like being my good boy, Astarion?"
"Shit! You're being ridiculous," Astarion pants, his hand tightening on your hips to cease your ministrations. "You're rubbing against me like a desperate virgin. Any man would get aroused."
Humming calmly, you sit back on your haunches and remove your shirt, tossing the garment into the bushes. Astarion's eyes immediately wander your exposed skin, drinking in the sight of your body. You take your bra off and trail your fingers over your nipples. Astarion lets out a pitiful groan.
"That's disappointing," you pout out your lip, trying to conceal a smile. "I was going to reward you for being so good."
"Darling, I think this is reward enough, so long as we end this with my teeth in your pretty neck."
"That's good to know," you chuckle, trailing a hand down the valley of your breast and over the planes of your stomach, stopping just shy of your waistband. "I'll enjoy this reward for both of us.
Astarion's brows scrunch slightly in confusion before zeroing in on your hand as you teasingly slip under the waistband of your pants and past your folds. Sighing softly, you begin to tease your clit with the pad of your finger, staring down at Astarion, who looks as if he might just have an aneurysm.
He cools his features with a smug smirk, idly trailing his hand up your side. "A show and then dinner? My dear, you're not as good at this teasing as you think, but I admire your effort."
One of Astarion's icy hands works up to your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The other grips your hip and begins to rock you against his stiff erection. You involuntarily gasp at the friction, allowing the vampire a moment of control.
Astarion ruts against you, letting out a grunt when you grind down with equal enthusiasm. Then suddenly, Astarion's hands are ripped from your body and pinned to the ground as you rise further, removing any contact between the two of you.
"What?" Astarion exclaims before looking to the side. Little vines sprout from the ground, binding his hands to the hard earth. "Gods, you wretched thing."
Clicking your tongue, you grin wickedly down at the trapped man. "Only good boys get to touch."
"Darling, must we continue this?" Astarion groans in frustration, tugging at your vines, annoyed when they don't give. "We both want this. You're the one making things difficult."
"Maybe, but only because I love hearing you beg for me. Now, unless you're going to give me what I want." You resume your ministrations, moaning as you dip a finger into your neglected hole. "Keep quiet,"
"At least remove your trousers!"
"Don't make me gag that pretty mouth of yours, Astarion."
Astarion fumes from underneath you, but you can see the cracks forming, the dilated pupils, the rapidly falling chest as he pants for breath he doesn't need, and the way he tugs against his bindings even though he knows nothing will give. You know he'll break. He already did once he had a bit more incentive.
Adding another finger, you start to pump in and out of your dripping cunt; an audible squelching noise can be heard with each dip of your hand. You moan, dropping your head back. Circling your puffy clit with your thumb, you rock against your hand, your other one snaking up your body to tease your breast.
"Astarion," you breathe out, smirking when you hear the man's frustrated groan. "Gods, I'm so wet, making a mess, squeezing my fingers so tight."
"You are killing me all over again, sweetheart," Astarion cries; his hips are desperately trying to move against you, but another vine wraps around his stomach, holding him down.
"Just say the word's Star," you say, pinching your nipple and rolling it between your fingers. A whine rips from your throat when you curl your fingers up and hit that spongy spot, which has a familiar burning sensation that starts coiling in your gut. "Fuck, say the words, and it could be you making me feel this good. Won't you be my good boy?"
"Gods," He bites back another moan, slamming his head in the dirt.
"I'm so close," you whimper, moving your thumb faster against your clit. "Just imagine it could have been your cock I'm clenching around, not my fingers. Could have been you that's making a mess of me." Looking down, you see Astarion all flustered, mouth agape, and hair a mess of frizzy curls, his whole body practically buzzing with need. It was enough to send you over the edge cumming around your fingers with a choked sob.
This finally broke the man. "Fine, okay! Please, please let me go!" Astarion pleads, voice ragged and needy. "Just let me touch you. I'll do anything you want, please. Gods, please, please, please!"
Suddenly, the vines vanish, and your lips are again on his. Astarion's pleas muffle against your mouth and quickly morph into a satisfied grunt when he bites his lip. Now that he's finally free, Astarion's quick to roll the two of you and pin you against the cold earth. Nestled between your thighs, Astarion starts mindlessly tearing at his clothes, his mouth trailing sloppy open-mouth kisses down your neck and to your chest.
"You are an evil woman." Astarion murmurs against the skin between your breasts. Slipping one of your nipples into his mouth, he begins to suck, and you gasp, arching your back into him.
"Astarion, fuck!"
A hand curls into his hair, your nails raking against his scalp, causing him to hum against your chest, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. You feel his hands move to your pants, tugging them down your hips, dragging your drenched underwear with them.
A cold finger trails through your warm cunt, and you shiver at the feeling. "I must admit, darling, I quite like it when you take charge, but," His voice rumbles against your skin, and you whine at the feeling of his fangs teasing your swollen nipple. "My patience has grown thin, so if it's okay with you, your good boy will take his reward now." His finger teases your entrance, barely dipping in.
You clench, choking on the gasp that bubbles up your throats. "Yes! Gods, please fuck me!"
Astarion cups the back of your head and kisses you deeply. Feeling his hard cock swipe through your cunt, your gasp into his mouth, your hand coming up to hold his face. He presses into you, and you pull away from his lips, moaning at the stretch of his cock, filling you to the brim. Astarion peppers feather light kisses over your face and neck as he bottoms out and waits for you to nudge him to continue.
Throwing one of your legs over his shoulder, Astarion pulls out almost entirely before impaling you again and sets a steady pace. A pace has your toes curling and you feeling breathless with each delicious drag of his cock against your walls. You don't think you'll get over the feeling of Astarion inside you, feeling the ridges rub against you in all the perfect ways as if he has the only manual to tear you apart with mind-numbing pleasure.
"Ugh-Always so tight," he grunts into your neck, "So perfect, just for me."
"Astarion!" You dig your nails into his shoulders and buck against each of his thrusts. "Faster, please!"
Astarion picks up the pace; your collective sounds of pleasure mingle together in the air, and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the clearing. Astarion's forehead drops against yours, and both of your noses brush against each other as he breathes in every whimper and moan of ecstasy you give him with each drag of his cock against your walls. Snaking a hand between your conjoined bodies, his nimble fingers swirl around your clit in time with each grind of his hips.
Another moan rolls off your tongue, and soon, that warmth blossoms once again in the pit of your stomach. "D-don't stop," you plead, hands running up his chest to wrap around his shoulder. "M' close."
Astarion nuzzles at your neck and inhales your scent, groaning at a particularly tight squeeze of your cunt. Even after all the begging and pleading you put him through, he still silently asks before he takes a bite. The thought warms your heart and is something you'll have to reflect on later.
"Yes! Please, bite me!" You whimper, clutching the back of his neck and pressing him close.
The sharp sting of ice pierces your neck, and you cry out against the pain. Astarion pays special attention to your clit, applying pressure and dragging his thumb around the swollen bud, his way of helping you through the initial sting. After a moment, the pain resides in mind-numbing pleasure, and soon, everything becomes too much.
Astarion consumes you. His hand caressing your body, his mouth lavishing your neck, his cock hitting you perfectly in spots only he seems to know how to reach. It's all too much, and soon tears prick at your eyes, and the heat in your lower stomach bursts, draining lava into your veins. Your nails dig into the flesh of Astarion's shoulders as you scream out his name, body spasming around the pleasure that courses through your body.
This seems to be enough to push Astarion over the edge with you. Still drinking mouthfuls of your blood, Astarion is rutting into you, grinding your pelvis against the solid earth. His moans hum against your skin, and his thrust becomes sloppy before a rush of heat gushes inside you as Astarion cums.
With a few more gulps of blood and a few more thrusts of his hips, you whimper with overstimulation. Astarion removes his mouth from your body, licking any stray droplets. He rolls onto his back, dragging you with him until your head is lying on his chest. You whine at the loss of fullness, cringing at the feeling of your combined release that begins to drip down your legs.
"That was…" Astarion trails off, seeming to be at a loss for words.
"Way better than the tiefling party." You mumble against his chest, smirking at the snort he makes.
"Yes, I would be inclined to agree."
"So you admit it," you tease, trailing your thumb over Astarion's nipple. "You liked begging for me."
"I wouldn't… mind if you took charge again," Astarion says, skirting around your claim.
"Whatever protects your ego." You tilt your head up. "Hey, Star?"
Astarion hums in acknowledgment, but his eyes are closed, his body seeping into a comfortable stillness. You note something he didn't allow himself to do at the party. Reaching your hand up, you run your fingers along his jaw, coaxing his eyes open.
"Next time, don't ignore me for a week to ask for my blood. I don't want you hungry. I care about you."
Astarion seems to freeze at your words as if he's never heard a caring word said to him. The thought alone makes you want to hunt this Cazador down and flay him for all of Baldur's gate to see.
Astarion opens his mouth to speak, but no words escape. He clears his throat and tries again. "Yes, that will certainly make things easier from now on."
The two of you lay there in silence, just enjoying the feeling of each other's skin against the other. Soon, when the sky turns to ombres of blues, pinks, and purples, you decide it's time to return to camp. Astarion is quiet for the journey back; an air of contemplation clings to his being. You don't push. Goodnights were said, and you parted ways, feeling like something had changed. Everything may have changed.
Heya, it's been crazy, but I finally got some time and energy to finish up this piece I've been working on for a while. I hope Astarion's not too out of character for as earlier of act one, I just liked the idea. I hope you all enjoyed, let me know what ya thought!
Taglist
@heartfully10 @ayselluna @marina-and-the-memes @anixson @canonicalchaoticneutral @toadsbitch @meulinkitten-blog @ambr4armr @lotusandcrystals @venussakura @synapticjive @skittleabyss @asterordinary @lariatbunny @whispering-depths @butchboi-chihuahua-slumlord @darkest-part-of-the-forest @queenofcarrotflowers-s @sessils @d20bunny@cherifrog@ophelia-ophelian @bgthree @darlingxdragon @mothynyx @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @babyqnn @mmendez0124 @kokoyu-art @lilah-asteria
Want to be added to the taglist? DM me please!
#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion#reader insert#bg3 astarion#astarion ancunin#bg3#astarion smut#astarion fic#fanfic#astarion imagine
251 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fuel for your Astarion daydreams:
his dexterous fingers playing absentmindedly along your hip, pausing only to squeeze you gently
his lips leaving an icy trail down your neck, pressing firmly against your quickening pulse
his fangs nipping gently at your shoulder as he pulls you closer, as if craving you more than your blood
his rich, red eyes catching yours from across a tavern, brightening imperceptibly at your attention
his voice, lowered to no more than a whisper in your ear, his tone teasing as he utters something naughty to you
his soft white curls brushing against your face as he leans closer to you, teasing you with a kiss that doesn't quite reach
his ears flushing pink as you unabashedly murmur words of love and longing
his nose burying into your hair as he takes in your familiar, now comforting scent
his laugh, rumbling through his body and into yours as you lay in each others' arms
#astarion#astarion x reader#fic lite#soft astarion#hm i dont know what this is#other than im tired and sleepy
368 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sometimes the thought how much Astarion loved you hit him like a bolt directly to his undead heart. Suddenly, he'd realise how incredibly fortunate he felt that he was able - and free - to love you.
Those were usually the moments you felt him wrap his arms around you tightly from behind or when he just halted when he was making love to you. The moments the vampire just took a moment out of his unending time, out of his immortal life, to hold it. Plucking it like one would a perfectly ripe berry to savour it fully in its sweet perfection.
And Astarion would just look at you, taking in every single detail, or feeling how the warmth of your skin slowly seeped into his own, before kissing you deeply.
Kissing you like it might be the last time even though it was just another mundane moment. One in a seemingly endless series of moments just like this.
But sometimes, sometimes he just needed to appreciate that he had you, that he held you - and that he would do so for as long as he was able to.
"What was that for?" you might ask him after the kiss had been broken after a while, barely able to come back to this plane of existence after he'd just taken you towards the stars with the way he'd kissed you.
"Oh," Astarion would murmur with a chuckle, placing a small peck onto the tip of your nose. "Just the usual, darling," he'd whisper before he leaned in again to kiss you once more: his open lips moving against yours speaking of how you were everything to him.
The best thing he'd ever gotten to experience.
#astarion#baldur's gate 3#astarion ancunin#bg3 spoilers#bg3#astarion x tav#astarion x you#astarion x reader#poro drabbles
211 notes
·
View notes
Note
dadstarion crumbs pls?
hiii, i wrote this a while back, its short but i hope youll like it<33
So many times Astarion dreamt of this day.
He would never forget the night he made love to you so intensely, so deeply, that you ended up carrying the seed of your love.
During the pregnancy he would care for you so much, from drawing you warm baths and massaging you back, to holding up your hair and making you soup.
At night he would hold you close protectively, daring anyone to try and hurt you. His hand always rested on the swell of your belly as he kissed your forehead.
Then time flew, the changes to your body would get him so emotional, to the point that one morning, as you were standing in front of the mirror, gently caressing where the baby would have been, that he cried as he wrapped his arms around you.
He was so proud, he would show you off. Whenever one of your friends would come over, he'd keep you close and praised you for being so strong.
On the topic of praises, Astarion could spend the whole day reminding you how beautiful you were carrying that tiny life in you. He'd kiss your belly and then your heart, before worshiping you like his goddess.
Later in the pregnancy, when your body would ache, he'd made sure you could rest as much as possible. He'd take all your errands and complete them before you even had the chance to get up from the nest he made for you.
When pain would jolt through you, he'd try to caress it away. "My love, I wish I could take your pain away" He'd trace soothing shapes while holding you to his chest.
He'd wipe away your tears as you clung to him, weak. "Darling, you are so strong, carrying our precious baby in you, and enduring all this pain."
Then before he could even process, the day had arrived.
He had prepared your morning bath, and helped you in the water. You'd rest against his chest, as he absorbed all your body heat. He'd make sure to clean every inch of your skin, while washing away the sleepiness off your bodies.
Until the sharp pain hit you, so bad you couldn't sit straight. He'd help you breathe, just how Halsin and Shadowheart taught you. He'd wipe away the tears, hoping that the pain would be just fleeting, but a while later, as you were reaching for your night robe, another bolt of pain hit you.
Astarion guided you up the bed, drying off your forehead as you'd wince in pain over and over, until he came to the conclusion that it wasn't the random pain you'd feel through the day, but the contractions.
He wouldn't hesitate to reach for the scroll he kept on his nightstand, ready for use as suggested by the druid.
Then, before he could even process, all your friends crowded your bed chamber. You'd still lay there, your body trembling and aching while everyone rushed back and forth.
Astarion on the other hand, took it on him to cradle you to him. "You can do it, my love. Our baby is almost here" He'd whisper lovingly.
Before another contraction would hit, another bath was drawn for you.
Astarion once more guided you to it. He was ordered to stay just at the edge of the tub, holding you from there, until you were barking at everyone. You wanted him closer, there with you as fear started swirling along all those overwhelming feelings.
He'd smugly smile at Shadowheart as he took you in his arms again. Your safe space, you called it.
He'd help you out to keep the squatting position, while contractions became quicker and stronger.
You'd rest your forehead against his as you couldn't hold back the tears anymore. "You are almost there, my sweet" He was no longer whispering, for once he'd let everyone hear his love as his fingers held your hips.
"Just one more one my love, you are so strong" He'd hold one of your hands as you were rocked by the water. He'd encourage you as you pushed, and pushed, and pushed, until a cry echoed in the room.
He still held you close while Jaheira cleaned you up, and healed the broken skin.
The time stopped though as Halsin finally put the tiny creature in your arms. His eyes were a fountain as he admired how you held your baby, how you'd introduce him.
"Look, my sun" You'd whisper as the tiny hand clasped at your index finger. "That’s your dada" You'd coo as you'd point at him.
The kind of sound that Astarion made was everything: a sob so full of joy. Then you'd invite him to hold the baby, and his heart felt so full.
He swore to himself that he'd protect you with his everything, your little family.
He was so afraid of accidentally hurting the baby as he traced the soft cheeks with his finger, and before he could process, the baby's tiny lips twisted in the most heart shattering smile.
Every sound was distrant as he'd be lost in your little bubble. You three sat there just taking each other in.
No one dared to break that little corner of heaven, until Gale's sob caught the pointy ears.
When Astarion would look up, his friends were all still there. Karlach, Gale and Wyll trying to hold the tears back, passing each other tissues as they wept.
Shadowheart and Halsin were trying to get Lae'zel to reason, as she wanted the baby to hold their first dagger.
Jaheira instead came near the three of you, still in each other's embraces.
"Little cub, you should move to the bed and rest" She'd offer her hand to get you all out of the water.
The baby rested in your arms, against your chest as he reached for your towel, wrapping it around your shoulders. He'd take his towel as well, and an extra one, big enough for the little one, before joining you in your bedchamber.
Nothing else matters but the two of you laying in bed. The baby asleep on your chest as you'd finally allowed the tiredness to dawn on you.
You'd look outside the window, the first lights of the morning warmed up the sky with pink hues. Their little sun, they shared the thought while your friends were already fighting for the baby.
Who was gonna hold them first. Who was gonna spoil them. Who would be the cool one. And Karlach was ready to claim those all, whether she had to rage or not.
That's when it hit Astarion. Your family wasn't little, as he called it earlier. It was crowded, full of love and maybe one day he'd admit he didn't mind all these /annoying friends clogging the corners of the home and burst the peace of their walls.
When you awoke, hours later, he was still there. The small bundle of joy laid in his arms as he cradled them closer to his chest.
“you should rest too” you grogged as you smiled softly, your chest swelling at the sight.
He raised his eyes, from the baby to yours, still aching despite looking so peaceful, his eyes swollen from tears.
#dadstarion#baldurs gate 3#bg3#astarion x reader#bg3 astarion#astarion x tav#bg3 x reader#lynn: updates☆#astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion bg3#baldurs gate astarion#astarion acunin#astarion ancunin x reader#astarion angst#astarion baldurs gate#astarion baldurs gate 3#astarion brainrot#astarion fanfic#astarion fanfiction#astarion fic#astarion fluff#astarion headcanon#astarion headcanons#astarion my beloved#astarion posting#astarion x female reader#astarion x female tav#astarion x reader fluff
269 notes
·
View notes
Text
*Tav and Astarion are watching the stars as they sit by the campfire*
Tav: The stars are beautiful tonight.
Astarion: Do you know what else is beautiful?
Tav: You?
Astarion: *breath hitched* You’re too adorable, you know.
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#dungeons and dragons#astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion x y/n#fluff#little star library
187 notes
·
View notes
Text
Whole World
Tav: “I can fit the whole world in my hands.”
Astarion: “No, darling, that’s impossible.”
Tav: *Walks over and tenderly cups Astarion’s face*
Astarion: *blushes furiously with his face smooshed between Tav’s hands*
Astarion: “Get off of me, I have a reputation.”
[Astarion shoves Tav away and fixes his hair]
Tav: *Stumbles away from the flustered spawn with a laugh and watches Astarion huff away*
Tav: “You’re too adorable.”
Astarion: *Barley spares Tav a glance as he flees back to the safety of his tent*
Inspired by this picture:
#astarion x reader#bg3 drabble#baulders gate 3#astarion x tav#fanfic#astarion acunin#bg3 imagine#bg3 x reader
101 notes
·
View notes
Text
I may or may not've drawn Nym and Astarion from my fic, Comfort 🌚
#this was the thing i was excited to share with you#lowkey very nervous to share this ngl#I TRIED BY BEST#astarion x tav#astarion fanfic#astarion smut#astarion ancunin#astarion x original female character#astarion x reader#astarion x female tav#astarion fluff#this was just for fun and idk if i'll draw anything more after this or if the fic will ever be dropped or not#been staring at this for too long AGHHH#bg3 art#bg3 fanart
84 notes
·
View notes
Text
After every batter or when the party enters a new area, tav feels like a reporter/interviewer just walking up to every companion- like shoving a metaphorical microphone in their face while asking for their opinion on what just happened and they just go with it!
#BG3 Characters x Tav!Reader#bg3 x reader#baldurs gate 3 x reader#x reader#gale x reader#lae'zel x reader#karlach x reader#astarion x reader#shadowheart x reader#wyll x reader#halsin x reader#tav!reader#bg3 x tav#baldurs gate 3 x tav#fanfic#fanfiction#headcanon#headcanons#simp-ly#simp-ly-writes
117 notes
·
View notes
Text
How about Tav not realizing Astarion is flirting with her for real? Like she thinks he's kidding? So she flirts back, harder and as lewd as him.
One day, he's a bit too forward with his flirting, really trying to get her attention. Now, Tav sees that he actually wants her, since it's so frustrating to him.
Him blocking her way until she chuckles, grabs him by his belt/waistband, pulling him toward her with a, "My dearest vampire, you would not survive my devotion."
Letting him go while he stares after her, absolutely thunderstruck,
#bg3 imagine#bg3#bg3 astarion#bg3 companions#bg3 tav#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion ancunin#baldurs gate 3#astarion fluff
138 notes
·
View notes
Text
Choices
I'm currently in the middle of flying overseas for my schl's exchange trip and yes I typed this all out whilst turbulence was crazy it was not a fun experience.
Summary: You and Astarion talk the night before you confront Cazador
"I thought you did your brooding in your tent."
"Sometimes, my dear, a change of scenery is good for brooding." He looks up at you, shifting to the right a little. You sit down in the spot created, legs dangling over the edge just like his. His shoulder gently brushes against yours as he turns his gaze back to the sprawling city that is Baldur's Gate. You follow the direction of his gaze, taking in the flickering lights of the city at night and breathe in the crisp cool air.
"So, what's the brooding about on this fine night?" You turn to look at him, admiring the way his curls gently sway in the breeze, the way the moonlight highlights the silver of his hair. He was always beautiful, elegant, handsome, all at the same time, with that hint of sorrow in his ruby red eyes. The same pair of eyes shift to rest on you, taking in your splendour and searches for a way to put his thoughts into words. He isn't even sure what the brooding is about today, all he knows is that he wanted some time away from camp, away from the rest of the party and their energy so that he can take in what will happen tomorrow. He wasn't expecting any company, the others knew better than to disturb him but yours is a welcomed one, lest his thoughts drown him.
"Everything, I suppose." He hums, turning back to look at the city again. It's been a while since he's set foot in those streets, and the last time he was here he was a slave to Cazador, prowling the streets at night for naive prey. Now he's back, free from Cazador's control, free to walk in the same streets in the sun, free to do whatever he wanted. He couldn't be forced to bow to someone else's whims, he was his own person and could choose his own path, as you had told him many times over. Sometimes, he still struggles to comprehend that, he's been a slave for so long that thinking about himself is something long lost to him, but you're patient, catching him when he falls along the way, never demanding anything of him.
"It's been a while since we were last here." You nod. "It is a lot to take in, so many things have changed."
"Everything has changed." He whispers, but you catch his words. Resting your hand on top of his, you give it a gentle squeeze followed by a soft smile of reassurance, the silent promise reaffirmed. He blinks, slowly, and returns the smile, a smile he only ever shows you. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Neither would I." You agree. "I like the change."
"If you keep complimenting me like that, my love, I will have to return the favour." He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Are you sure you're ready for that?"
When he leans in closer, you start blushing. His lips are a hair breadth's away from yours, tantalizingly close yet so far and you yearn to close the gap but you wait for him to make the move. He pauses, seeking your approval before closing the gap, feeling the softness of your lips, your sweet taste flooding his mouth. His kiss is gentle, filled with yearning and uncertainty, just like his current turmoil of emotions. You kiss back, never wanting to let him go but your need for air forces you to and the both of you part unwillingly.
"Tomorrow we confront Cazador," he murmurs.
"We do. Together." You say firmly. "You're not doing this alone, we'll all be right there by your side."
He gives you a sad smile, "I still…I still worry. I don't know if I can do this, if I can fight him."
"If you can't, we'll fight him on your behalf. Don't worry, we'll make sure he pays dearly." You feel an anger burn deep within you at the vampire lord, swearing vengeance on him for Astarion's sake, but you also know in the end, Astarion will have to be the one dealing the final blow, or Cazador will have him forever, even in true death. It doesn't matter if your party manages to defeat Cazador without Astarion, if Astarion doesn't defeat Cazador, it will all have been for naught.
"But what if Cazador tells them about all the things I've done? What if that causes them to turn on me? You and I can't win that fight." His hands tremble, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. "What if Cazador still has control over me and forces me to attack you?"
"Then we'll make sure none of those come to pass."
"He's a vampire lord, Y/N! He's powerful, terrifying, he —"
"Isn't the worst thing we have and will face. We've stared down one of the Dead Three and we know we have to defeat an elder brain controlled by the Crown of Karsus, Cazador is nothing compared to them. If we can survive a fight with Myrkul and emerge victorious, we can defeat Cazador before he gets the chance to open that damned hole he calls a mouth." You snarl out the last part, much to Astarion's surprise. His lip quivers and he feels tears start to stream down his face, the liquid quickly cooling in the night air. His shoulders start shaking with silent sobs and you panic. This was not the reaction you wanted out of him, this was far from the reaction you were looking for.
"I'm sorry Astarion! I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry, I —" Before you can blabber on, he wraps his arms around you tightly, burying his face into your shoulder, effectively silencing you.
"You didn't say anything wrong. You said everything perfectly, like you always do." He sniffs, adjusting his hug. He buries a hand in your hair whilst the other rests on your back. "You're always full of surprises."
"Well, that is one of my strengths," you smile, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. You return the hug, nuzzling into his hair and simply hold him while he lets everything out.
Astarion cannot deny that he's still worried about facing Cazador, that the very thought sends his undead heart thundering in his chest. In his two hundred years under Cazador, not once had he ever thought about standing against Cazador, all that fight had been long beaten out of him, but that all changed when you crashed into his life, dragging a few others along with you. To think that one day, he would find the courage to fight Cazador alongside people he considered friends (to a certain degree), that he would find someone he wanted to devote his life to. If he told his past self about this, his past self would have scorned him, told him to stop dreaming and face the reality of an eternal life as Cazador's puppet. But this was real, all this was real. He wasn't dreaming, he was in reality, a reality he had thought was long lost to him.
Your warmth washes over him, anchoring him in the reality that is his. When the sun dips below the horizon tomorrow, the future will be his to dictate. His and his alone. Looking into your eyes that hold so much love for him, he decides right there and then. He chooses to have you in the future that awaits him, he chooses to forge a future where the both of you can be together, unbound by fear.
He chooses you.
#baldur's gate 3#bg3#astarion bg3#baldurs gate astarion#astarion romance#astarion x durge#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion x you#astarion ancunin#tavstarion#durgestarion
143 notes
·
View notes
Text
#明日花キララ#kataang#thick thickwhite girls#astarion x reader#supreme#tlou#camille rowe#eddie munson x reader#megatron#thomas sanders
120 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fangs and Fractured Hearts
Chapter 16: Riddles
Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.
Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.
In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.
Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?
Word Count: 6.8k
Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn
Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]
Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events. Mentions of Astarion's Trauma.
If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know
Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience]
The manor is mute except for the scratch of paper as you flip the page of Astarion’s sketchbook and contemplate the detailed drawing of yourself. You frown as you try to brush the name over the woman, painting her with the letters and hues of every syllable. It doesn’t matter what portrait you look at; the name still feels foreign and unrecognizable.
Whoever the woman in these drawings is, she is lost to you. She took her name to the grave, and some things cannot be exhumed. You close the book, your eyes sailing up the wall toward the ceiling.
Should you miss her? Grieve her? Forget her?
Climbing onto the bed, you hold your palm out, summoning the flames from the candles. You close your fist to extinguish them and let the black wings of darkness envelop the room. You have a strange feeling that you’re not entirely that woman any longer, which you can’t put into words. You were disassembled somewhere between life, death, and this everlasting afterlife, and your pieces weren’t arranged in quite the same pattern.
You have lost and gained so much in so little time. Would you recognize yourself even if you had a reflection?
There’s an ache in the vacant chamber where your dead heart hangs, frozen in the static state of death. The pang of discomfort doesn’t belong to you, though. Astarion has been leaving the link open more and more, and you’re learning what he meant when he said the world around him seems to move in slow motion.
You once made the mistake of thinking Astarion could no longer feel, but you couldn’t have been more wrong. The reality is that he feels everything with an intensity you cannot begin to fathom. His emotions are like shooting stars. They streak through him, blazing bright and winking out in the blink of an eye.
His beating heart gives away Astarion's return. He doesn’t bother lighting a candle when he enters the room, hanging his formal suit coat.
You light a candle with a twitch of your finger. “You must forgive yourself, Astarion.”
Astarion sighs, rubbing his face. “What gave me away this time?”
“The same thing.” You splay your hand across your chest. This is not the first time you’ve mentioned the ache, as if your heart is in a perpetual state of being torn. “When you hurt, I hurt.”
You feel his intention to cut the coupling, to give you a break from the pain, and you fight against it.
“Don’t,” you rebuke, narrowing your eyes at the increasing pressure in your head. “Please. Stop trying to shut me out.”
Astarion’s eyes fall to the sketchbook you left on the bedside table. “Do you not recognize your name still?”
“No,” you say, shaking your head and fidgeting with your fingers. This is the whole reason for the pain he’s been wallowing in—a bog of guilt and shame. He’s more upset over it than you are. You smile, making your voice a gentle hug. “Give me some time, and I will get used to it.”
“You should not have to get used to your own fucking name,” he hisses, squeezing his eyes closed, and the pain in your chest increases. It feels like your heart is warping itself into knots. “Not even Cazador went as far as to remove my name from my memory.”
“You are not Cazador,” you snap back sternly. “Stop comparing yourself to him. The situation is entirely different.”
“No,” Astarion growls, raising his voice, overtaken by repulsion. “I’m something much worse. At least there were limits to his power. No restrictions hinder me.”
“Good Gods! Just stop!” You yell, jumping off the bed. You’re unsure if your anger is partly due to what Astarion is feeling or your irritation at his self-loathing. At least he cannot remember taking you to the kennels. You don’t think he will ever recover. “You’re not him, and you’re not the darkness inside. You must separate the two.”
Astarion scoffs, turning away and waving dismissively, “I think it best if you rest in your room tonight.”
You deflate, anger being replaced by his disregard and the sharp sting of rejection. Astarion has been making you sleep in your room for days. At first, you thought he needed space, but he’s only become increasingly distant and withdrawn.
“Why are you doing this?” You step toward him, but he tenses and shies away, making you halt. You try to decipher his retreat through the bond, but Astarion is carefully guarding his emotions.
“Doing what?” He asks casually, keeping his blank stare on the wall.
“You show me an open door, then slam it on me and pull the rug out from under my feet!” You look up, hating that tears have begun crawling down your cheeks. “You think keeping your distance from me is keeping me safe, but you’re tearing me apart. Do you even want me here anymore, Astarion? Should I go?”
“Don’t go,” he whispers, brittle and weak. If your hearing were not so sharp, thanks to your vampirism, you wouldn’t have heard him. There’s another stab in your chest that feels like it rips the muscles right off your bones, and you whimper, clutching at your skin. “Please.”
“I can’t take this anymore,” you plead, taking another step, only to watch him tense. Your arms drop to your sides. Your heartbreak is affecting him. You can see it in the way his jaw clenches, and he winces almost imperceptibly at every sob you stifle. “Why are you pushing me away?”
Astarion finally turns, wracking his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know if I can be what you need me to be—what you deserve.”
“I know you don’t love me,” you sigh, shrugging. It always comes back to this. “You need to listen to me; let my words sink into your skin and fade into your soul. I missed you with such intensity that it felt like I died every day we were apart. You are my forever, even if I am not yours, and that’s okay.” You shake your head dismially, unsure how to get through to him. “I love you. Goodnight.”
You’re near your room when Astarion appears in front of you out of thin air, and you bump into him. He vaults you off your feet and into his arms before you can register his movement, making you yelp at the surprise of having your feet swept out.
“Shit,” He holds you firmly against him, his lips pressed to your forehead in a lingering kiss. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to leave. Stay with me, little love. I need you.”
“Stop pushing me away.” You tangle your fingers into his hair, with your face nestled into the crook of his neck.
“I will.” His hand comes to the back of your head as he walks back to his room and places you gently on the bed with adoration in his eyes. “You are my forever, Illyria. Aeterna Amantes.”
“Lovers forever,” you finish, sidling up close to him and laying your head on his chest.
The teeth of guilt gnawing inside your chest cavity have finally relinquished your heart as their chew toy, and all that remains is the steady thrum of Astarion’s borrowed heartbeat.
“Until the world falls down, my love,” he purrs, placing a finger under your chin and his lips embracing yours.
The slow rocking rise and fall of his chest is like the sway of gentle waves; the beat of his heart is a lullaby whispering serenity into your soul, and you slip peacefully into your trance.
Upon waking, your hand meanders across the silken surf of the sheets, only to find Astarion’s side of the bed cold and void. Rolling onto your back, your eyes drag open, and you listen for the telltale susurrus of a heartbeat. A frown creases your forehead when you’re met with nothing but the anonymous creaks and groans of the manor.
Astarion doesn’t usually leave without mentioning his absence as a warning to stay indoors and away from the windows. A florid scent catches your attention, prompting you to turn your head.
On Astarion’s pillow, a red rose rests and a folded note with your name penned in his delicate, flowing hand.
“Good morning, beautiful.
I apologize for my absence, but I am not far. I’ve left blood for you in the kitchen.
Eternally yours,
Astarion.”
The promise of awaiting blood stirs you to your feet hastily. Your belly coils with anticipation, and you barely have enough restraint to dress and run a comb through your hair before you’re bounding down the stairs.
A golden goblet, elaborately etched with prismatic dragon scales that mirror yours, sits on the counter. You snatch it greedily and bring it to your lips. The blood is cool, so you allow your palms to heat slowly, warming it as it inspires your taste buds to recite their devotion to the ambrosial elixir. It’s unmistakably Astarion’s blood. It knocks you over in a wave of delirium that makes your knees weak, and you lean into the counter to keep yourself from melting into the floor.
You’re not sure if it’s your imagination or reality, but you veritably hear Astarion chuckling in your head.
The meal is finished too soon, and you groan as you clean the last traces from your lips. When you open your dreamily heavy eyes, another folded note, previously hidden by the flared base of the goblet, catches your attention. You blink rapidly to clear the insensibility glazed across your sight before you can make any sense of the words before you.
“Find me using the clues I have scattered for you, my clever Illyria.
We have much to discuss.
“Reminisce beneath the faded tapestries, where laughter once echoed; seek the embers of our stolen kiss."
Clues? What in the Hells is Astarion up to, and what the fuck do you have to discuss? An icy shock runs from your dead heart into your feet. Is it possible he found out about Mizora and knows you’ve been keeping something from him? Would he play a game of cat and mouse with you?
You would not put it past him.
He’s left the link between you open, and you cannot feel any malice vibrating in the orchestra of emotions. If he’s figured out your secret, he’s hidden it well.
You stare at the hint with a furrowed brow. Embers of your stolen kiss? Faded tapestries? The pad of your finger rubs over the fringe of scales scored into the goblet’s surface while you think, and then you realize the damn chalice itself is another tip.
This does not belong to Astarion, or it didn’t before you and he stole it after breaking into a shop one night during your adventure. Astarion caught you eyeing it while you were buying supplies. You deemed it an impractical purchase. There was a far more dire need for healing potions and other necessities than to waste coin on frivolous trinkets.
He woke you up that night, dressed entirely in black, and dragged you back to the shop for a thrilling night of thievery and resulting debauchery. Where did you two go after to celebrate?
The Blushing Mermaid.
You dress quickly in a red dress with lace sleeves and a glimmering, golden dragon that snakes up your side. The skirt hugs your hips, flares slightly, and flutters around your knees. The golden bands of the matching hairpiece and circlet wreathe your forehead and long hair.
Throwing on your sandals, you stop dead at the door. The sun still shines outside, as evidenced by the tawny luminance glowing between the cracks in the drapery.
Astarion’s voice frisks across the bond: “You needn’t fear, love. You are safe.”
“What are you up to, Ascendant?” You query back, opening the door slowly and sticking your hand in the small ray to validate his claims.
He giggles, “Solve the riddles, and all will be revealed in time.”
The sky sings of sunset in hues of fire hearths gilded with golden inlays. Despite Astarion’s assurance, your skin still flinches over your muscles as if trying to pull itself away from your figure. Your eyes keep steadily on the majesty of the horizon as you trot through the streets to the Blushing Mermaid.
With the recent meal sloshing around in your stomach, your bloodlust is easier to manage. Still, when citizens brush by with their dainty necks on display, you’re tempted to give them a nibble.
The tavern is as busy as it typically is for late afternoon, but most patrons take no notice of you, engrossed in their revelry.
“Ah, the leaking blood bag.” Captain Grisly’s voice drifts from her quarters. “Nice to see you again. I hardly recognized you without your quarterstaff and haggard, blood-soaked robe.”
When you turn and her eyes catch the cracked crimson of yours, she gasps but holds her tongue with a clenched jaw.
You smile reassuringly and taunt, “Don’t worry. I won’t bite unless you ask very nicely.” There is something about people being afraid of you that’s thrilling. You cannot explain why. Perhaps you’re learning to accept this new you instead of feeling ashamed. It’s freeing. “Was my pale companion here earlier?”
The woman eyes you skeptically and nods, “Yes, Lord Ancunin was in earlier, but he warned me not to assist you.”
“Of course he did.” You roll your eyes as Astarion chuckles in your head. “It was nice to see you.”
“Please try not to make a meal out of my patrons,” Captain Grisly smirks. “The cleaning bills are already enough of a menace.”
You chuckle while your eyes dart around, trying to remember what you and Astarion got up to that night. The memory is garbled under the lagoon of ale you must have drunk.
You drank a lot. You danced. Oh Gods. You danced on the stage.
Your eyes swing to the faded tapestries hanging above a small alcove. Astarion had dragged you off the stage when your provocative swaying earned the attention of too many ogling eyes for his comfort.
“You are a godsdamned delinquent, Illyria,” he’d purred in your ear while he ironed his body to you possessively, shielding you from the onlookers with a forearm pressed above your head. “I have half a mind to take you right here, enchantress, to show these fools you belong to me.”
A small table sits in the alcove with a single candle lit. A white rose rests on it, with a dainty silver chain wrapped around the verdant stem. Unwrapping it, you hold a locket in your hand. The edges are adorned with two exquisitely detailed dragons, one light silver and one dark, forming a heart. In the middle, a black diamond is held by the silver dragon, and a normal diamond is held by the dark one, creating a magnificent contrast.
Opening the clasp, your eyes anchor to a sketch you haven’t seen before. It’s not of the mortal woman you don’t remember. It’s of you, as you must appear now. Your eyes are the only thing in vivid colour, and your fangs peek out of your smiling lips. Even though the picture is small, it holds an impossible amount of detail.
The smooth metal of the back is engraved with Astarion’s nickname for you, Amarillis. It’s Elven, your mother tongue, for Flame-Flower.
Putting the locket on, you find another note nestled between the petals of the rose.
“Where the forgotten lay to rest under the celestial canopy, find the crimson-kissed stone where a single star shines alone.”
If you know Astarion, he’s left another hint somewhere in plain sight, like the goblet. You scan your surroundings for anything that looks out of place, and you find an image hanging on the wall behind the stage that you don’t recall being there.
You recognize the statue, Balduran Looks Out to Sea, located in the Tumbledown district of the outer city. It’s not an area you’ve spent much time in. Astarion and you went to sit on the cliff and watch the sunrise the day before you went to kill or be killed by Cazador.
Now, you just need to get there without eating anyone.
Twilight is a tangible whisper, bruising the stretch of sky in purple and navy when you return to the streets. Alleys and paths are easiest for you to traverse, and sometimes you Misty Step and skate over the roofs when you feel bloodlust evaporating from your control.
At least Tumbledown is far less busy than the Lower City, thanks to the misty veil that never seems to disentangle from the town. The soft percussion of waves from the River Chionthar pulsing upon the cliffside is rhythmic as you walk up the quiet path leading to the statue.
You reread the note, “Where the forgotten lay.”
Cliffside Cemetery.
The large graveyard spreads before you, composed of a bafflingly complex network of headstones, tombs, and old mausoleums. You keep your eye out for anything red, which will appear brazenly against the drab background of the assorted greys and greens of the mossy tombstones.
The moonlight casts eerie shadows that stretch and disfigure the terrain. The stars ignite the velvet wreath of night as you finally come upon a headstone with a red rose draped over it.
The weather over the centuries has worn, stained, and cracked the stone. Crouching, you carefully wipe off the grime that dulls the worn epitaph.
“Astarion Ancunin,” it reads.
Rest Peacefully Beneath a Canopy of Stars.
Your fingers trace the jagged lines unconsciously as tears brim in your eyes, sinking to your knees.
“I have not returned since I punched a hole in my coffin and dug through six feet of dirt nearly 200 years ago.” Astarion’s voice floats from behind you.
Leaping to your feet, you whirl with more agility than you’ve ever possessed and thrust yourself into his arms. Astarion is dressed in clothing reminiscent of his camp clothes, leaving the typical opulence of the Vampire Ascendant behind.
“You are not forgotten, Astarion,” you whisper against his chest.
Astarion’s arms wrap around you. His timbre is angelic and deep, vibrating through your skin and massaging your spirit. “I was. For 200 years, I was a ghost stalking the streets while whoever I was, whoever I could have been, lay dead and buried."
Taking your hand, he walks toward his grave, letting his fingers coast over the roughened stone. “Cazador was waiting for me when I surfaced, hacking up dirt and congealed blood. I was his from that day forward. Even this grave is located on lands once owned by the Szarr family. Yet another nod to his ownership of me, I suppose.”
His finger taps the headstone, but he’s smiling when he turns to look at you—a real, genuine smile that fills your heart with warmth. “Then you fell like an angel from the heavens, quite literally, and waged war on everything I thought I knew about the world. You gave me something I had been without for centuries—hope.”
“I’m no angel,” you whisper.
“You’re my angel, Illyria,” he asserts. With Astarion’s attire and the way he’s speaking, which is so entirely familiar, there’s a shot of recognition that stirs your psyche. For the first time since you relearned it, your name is not an abstract word in your head. Astarion must feel it because he smiles broadly and continues, “No one cared, no one gave me a second look, and no Gods answered my prayers. No one is like you; you’re you. You stood with me through bloodlust, pain, and misery. You trusted me. You were patient. You cared. You were the only one who never gave up on me. You still haven’t given up on me, even though it’s an objectively stupid thing to do.”
“You were being very sweet until you called me stupid.” You giggle as he wipes the tears from your cheeks.
“Sweet and savoury, my dear,” he chuckles. “I’ve been free for over a year. Yet, I am just beginning to figure out who I am and what I truly want out of this newfound life.”
“What do you want, Astarion?” You lean into him. “The world is yours for the taking.”
“Not what,” he says, shaking his head, sliding an arm around your waist, and his fingers grazing over the locket on your neck. He smiles, “But you will have to finish this little quest to find the answers you seek.” He hands you another note and winks, “I’ll see you soon.”
Astarion gives you a small, playful shove and strides away with a smirk. He bows and shifts into an unnaturally large, white bat with crimson eyes you would recognize in a sea of them, soaring around you while you laugh.
“You’re adorable, but are you soft?” You ask.
He answers in your head with a lilting laugh, “Shall we find out?”
He lands, folding his wings and resting on his headstone, and cocks his head. Your fingers tremble, unfoundedly afraid you might hurt him, as they stroke down the alabaster fur.
“Soft and cute.”
“I aim to please,” he snickers, taking off to kiss the stars. “You are wasting time, my treasure.”
You giggle at his jeering and watch him streak through the sky, so beautifully free, before reading the note.
"Seek the shore’s embrace, where stars align, and ascend the steps, bathed in candlelight’s shine. There, seek the terrace above the riverside; a question to decide.”
Shore’s embrace. Now, this you know well. When Astarion turned you he insisted on renting a villa with this name near the river in the Lower City.
The trek back to the Lower City somehow feels lengthier as nervousness hits you, ticking away in your chest, every beat of Astarion’s heart amplifying your anxiety as if the seconds were grains of sand slipping away, impossible to grasp.
You can’t entirely tell if it’s yours or his. With the bond open and uninhibited, you are entangled, a tapestry of threads entwined so seamlessly that it’s difficult to distinguish where one of you begins and the other ends.
If Astarion has figured out you’re hiding something, he’s given you no indication, but some part of you still wonders if you’re walking into a trap. It’s hard to control your thoughts so they do not transfer to him, which he’s been trying to teach you so that you can keep the bond open, but your private thoughts can remain your own.
It makes you wonder what thoughts he keeps from you.
You smell the aromatic perfume of roses before you round the corner. The villa hangs onto the wall and overlooks the River Chionthar. The silver waves sway and reflect the impending dawn’s early light, cradling the morning’s first blush. Candles light the steps covered in white and red rose petals. It almost feels wrong to step on something so wonderful.
The beat in your chest thrums with anticipation, like your extinct heartbeat has woken and risen from the grave as you ascend the staircase to the grand entrance. Your breath catches in your throat as you enter the foyer. The sparkling crystal chandelier is lit, casting scintillating rainbows across the room. Rosemary incense burns, filling the air with an aroma that reminds you of home—of Astarion.
You follow the scattered rose petals leading to the terrace as the golden crown of the sun crests the horizon. Fear typically follows such a sight, but you’re revelling in grandeur.
The heartbeat behind you is the only thing that alerts you to Astarion’s presence. The man seemingly appears out of thin air, but if you had that ability, you would take advantage of it too, you suppose.
“This is beautiful,” you say, and your words are abruptly cut off.
As your eyes fall on Astarion in his resplendent tailored suit, he descends to one knee. His crimson eyes meet yours, sparkling with a celestial constellation mirroring the infinity of his love. The newborn sun lights up the adoration in his features.
“Illyria, my love,” he begins in a soft whisper before your brain can catch up to what is happening. “You are the fire that lights up my darkness, a melody that soothes my troubled soul. After being with you, there is no doubt that I have touched the heavens.” He hesitates momentarily, and the bond surges with warmth, longing, devotion, and good Gods, love, “I love you, and I fall more in love with you every day. I do not know what tomorrow brings, but right now, with you, the world feels right.”
His hand reaches into his pocket and produces a small, velvet box. Lifting the lid, the quick breaths you didn’t realize you'd been taking catch in your throat as your eyes fall on an exquisite ring, nestled on a bed of crimson silk, intricately crafted with a dragon claw, clutching a heart-shaped diamond to match the locket.
Astarion’s warm caramel baritone holds the sweet promise of eternity: “Will you marry me?”
Your hand shoots to your mouth to stifle the sound that erupts from your throat, somewhere between a whimper and a squeak. Your knees fold, unable to hold your weight any longer, and you drop, folding your arms around his neck and draping yourself over him.
His hand comes to your back, and he kisses your cheek. “Is this happy crying, or have I made a grave miscalculation?”
“Happy crying,” you stutter through shaky breaths.
He chuckles, nuzzling you. “Is this a yes?”
“Yes!” You pull back, nodding in case he cannot understand you through your weeping. “But I need one thing from you."
"Ask, and I shall make it yours,” he purrs.
You cradle his cheek, sweeping your thumb across it. “Say it again.”
He smirks, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I love you.”
“One more time,” you choke out.
“Gods above,” he giggles. “Is this all you will have me say now?”
You smile, the tips of your fangs peeking from your lips. “It sounds very good in your mouth.”
“You know I do not repeat myself for anyone,” he taunts. “Anyone but you, my love.” Astarion takes your hand, slipping the ring onto your finger, looking deeply into your eyes. “I love you, Illyria, my wife, my everything.”
“I love you, too, Astarion, my husband, my shining star.”
He beams, “I do rather like that, you know,” he muses. “When you call me husband.”
His arm wraps around your waist, easing you to your feet. You clutch onto him to keep yourself upright as your knees wobble like a newborn fawn and try to watch the sunrise with your head on his chest, but your eyes keep drifting to the ring adorning your finger, reminding yourself that this did, in fact, just happen.
“Do you like it?” He murmurs, catching your eyes moored to it.
“I love it,” you whisper. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I should hope not,” he chuckles. “I designed it. No one will ever have anything similar.”
“How do you know?”
“Oh, you know me,” he shrugs. “I killed the jeweller to make sure he could never replicate it.”
Your head snaps up, wide-eyed, to look at him. He glances at you and bursts into laughter. “A jest, sweetheart.”
“I hope you at least compelled him to forget it,” you snicker. “Or I may have to drain anyone I see with anything similar.”
“Oh,” he giggles. “I do so adore it when you’re murderous. Speaking of draining someone, I’ve had you running around the city all night. You must be positively famished.”
“You fed me,” you say, arching a brow at him. “Lucky for the citizens of the Lower City. Some of them smell very tasty.”
Astarion’s hands find the back of your thighs, and you wrap your arms around his neck as he lifts you. “Not as tasty as me, I hope.”
“No one could ever be as tasty as you,” you purr. “Your blood is nearly as charming as you are.”
He chuckles, taking you into the villa and setting you on the lofty mattress. “Well, who am I to deny your hunger? I would not be a very good husband if I did not keep my lovely wife satisfied. Would I?”
“What are you saying exactly?” You sweep your fingers through his hair as he undoes the elaborate clasps of his suit jacket. He discards it and loosens the collar of his shirt. You quirk your head at him. “Speak plainly.”
“I want you to bite me,” he purrs, pushing your legs to part for him with his knee and leaning over you. His lips mould to yours in a reverential kiss as his hands wander your body and ignite your desire.
“Bite you?” You breathe. “You said I couldn’t.”
“No.” Astarion removes his shirt, and your palms skim over his chest. “I said you can’t unless I permit you. You are as close to a True Vampire as you can get, my consort. It will not change you.”
“I don’t want to change,” you murmur, your fingers pressing firmly into his sculpted muscles. The offer of blood is tempting your hunger. “You’re giving me permission?”
He smirks, “Go on then. I’ll allow it.”
“Where?” Astarion cranes his neck to the side in an invitation. It takes everything you have not to leap for that magnificently pulsing vein. “Your neck?”
“Is there something wrong with my neck, my dear?”
“No. Of course not,” you giggle. “You have a very lovely neck. This is just new, that’s all. I didn’t think you would want to be, uh, well, bitten.”
“Your bite, my sweet,” he purrs, pressing his chest against yours and pinning you between him and the mattress. “Is divine. Only you will ever get the great honour of biting the Vampire Ascendant.”
“I godsdamned better be!” You huff, “I don’t share, Astarion. Not your body, not your blood, and definitely not your heart. You are mine and only mine. ”
He giggles, “Possessive little thing. Aren’t you? Not to worry, my love. I do not intend to share. I am yours. Wholly, and completely yours.”
You trace your lips down the shell of his ear. Your heart frolics at the ardent shudder that courses through his body and how the breath hitches in his throat. Kissing his neck until you feel the vein pulsing against your lips, you wait until he whispers his shaky, anticipatory approval.
The razor-sharp points of your fangs kiss his skin, and you wait for your body to seize up, but it doesn’t. You bite quick and sure, trying your best to be gentle. You feel the pop of your fangs puncturing his skin. His blood erupts into your mouth, caressing your tongue with heavenly heat that cascades through the channels of your veins and nestles between your thighs. You drink from him slowly but deeply, and your body trembles.
Astarion groans, deep and rich, his hot breath fanning the cool skin of your neck, and you feel the icy pinch of his fangs sink into you. You wash through him, and he passes through you in a paradisiacal torrent. The pleasure that harmonizes over the bond is transcendent. You swear you could come undone for this alone, and you ease your fangs from his neck and moan.
He kisses you with a bruising intensity. His tongue parts your lips so you can taste the essence of each other, and he bucks his hips into your aching sex, sending you spiralling into that frisson of pure delirium.
The clothes on your body feel much too restricting, and you whimper. The barrier of fabric between you feels unbearable. Astarion’s fingers go to his trousers, but his usual adroitness is nowhere to be seen as his fingers fumble with the laces.
He stares at his fingers dumbfounded for a moment and then looks at you with an arched brow and giggles gleefully, “Do you by any chance feel absurdly intoxicated?”
You writhe on the bed, unable to contain your ardent lust, as your brain awkwardly processes his question.
“Entirely,” you laugh. Gods. You thought you were high on him last time, but you are almost senseless in your need. You’re not even sure if you’re walking on the planes of reality or in some delightful hallucination, and you cannot find it within you to care. “Is this not normal?”
Astarion throws his trousers to the side, rucks up your dress clumsily, and tosses it away. “I’m not entirely sure. I may have read something about it, but I cannot quite remember where or when.” He shrugs. “We will have to experiment.”
Precum glistens, dripping from the head of his swollen cock. You are overcome with the absolute need for his salty, heady taste on your tongue. You lunge at him, bowling him over. Your movements are somehow swift and equally ungainly.
You lick up his shaft with a long, broad tongue stroke, feeling the ridges of his distended veins, before you engulf him in the wet heat of your mouth. Swirling your tongue around the blunt head of his cock. He sucks in sharp, shuddering breaths, fingers in your hair as you worship him, hollowing out your cheeks and sucking, taking him deeper and deeper until his cock tickles the back of your throat.
“Illyria,” he moans breathlessly. “Hells. You’ve got to stop before I lose my composure.”
But you’re not entirely sure you could stop, even if you wanted to. No. You want to feel his cock twitching on your tongue and his seed shooting into your throat. You want to drink his essence like a fine wine.
“Illyria,” he warns, trembling fingers curling into your hair. You feel the telltale pulse, hear the way his breath becomes ragged and uneven, and you take him over the edge in a few bobs of your head. He cries out, your name a sweet litany in his voice.
His seed bursts into your mouth, and you moan at the salt of him, swallowing every drop he gives you like a thirsty traveller. He is candied like heaven, wicked like hell, and, oh, so fucking delicious.
He pulls your head back by your hair and stares at you like he has found an oasis in an arid desert. You lick your swollen, red lips, determined to get every last drop of him that you can.
“Bad girl,” he purrs, shoving you flat on your back and pressing his lips to yours. He explores your mouth. “I taste exultant on your tongue.”
His fingers run through the seam of your dripping folds, coating them in the sleek of your arousal and easing into your fluttering channel. Astarion presses the pads firmly into that sweet spot inside that blinds you with pleasure, the heel of his palm caressing your clit with mind-numbing friction.
It does not take him long to settle into a rhythm that throws you somersaulting over the cusp of your own release with a lewd, wild cry, and he does not stop until he’s lured every possible shockwave from your body.
Astarion grabs your waist, tugging you down the bed as he settles between your thighs, sliding his length through your folds, his head teasing your overstimulated pearl. He guides himself into you, working your sex open inch by inch as you stretch to accommodate his girth.
Where everything before this was wild, almost savage, and borderline uncivilized, this is slow, passionate, and unhurried. He rocks his hips in languid pumps, coming to his forearm with his forehead pressed against yours. He is not fucking you. He is making love to you.
“You are mine,” he rasps through shaky gasps. It is not a proclamation of his ownership of you. It is not a command. It’s more of a plea for reassurance. “Yes?”
“Yours,” you confirm breathlessly, your eyes squeezed closed in pure rapture as he massages every one of your ridges poetically. Your fingers slide into the hair at the nape of his neck, and you cling to him as if you might float away on this cloud. “I’ve always been yours.”
“Gods. I love you,” he shudders between uneven breaths.
You will never tire of hearing those words, tasting them as they hinge off his tongue, and feeling them as they dally over the bond.
You clench around him, expelling a sighing groan from his mouth that you catch on your lips, determined to taste his ecstasy. His arm folds around your waist, forcing you to arch into him with his other hand at the back of your head. Astarion changes the angle of his thrusts but keeps the easy tempo. The blunt head of his cock waves over the sensitive pad of nerves inside you with every roll of his hips, and his groin grinds against your needy clit.
Astarion purposefully brings you close to your climax and then eases you away from it until you’re a whimpering mess beneath him.
“Astarion,” you pant, unable to take this withholding any longer. From his taut muscles and the way Astarion shakes, you know he cannot either. “Gods.”
“Open your eyes and come with me, my love.” Astarion increases the sensual pace rhythmically. The building pleasure pools in your abdomen, coiling tighter and tighter with every snap of his hips.
You open your eyes, blinking away the daze of passion, and cradle his cheek as he gazes at you affectionately. You’ve never seen his eyes so vividly crimson, as if his love for you itself was shining through the scarlet depths.
He knows the moment you begin to tread the fine edge of euphoria, gripping his girth and begging him to flood you with his pleasure. You shatter, spasms and white-hot pleasure ripping through you so intensely that the candles in the room go out and reignite with every contraction of your walls.
“F-fuck,” he moans loudly, a roll of purring thunder echoing in his chest. With one last pump, Astarion tremors, cock pulsing, and spilling into you. His hips stutter, pulsing deeply within you with every twitch of his cock.
He pushes the sweaty strands of hair from your face as you both struggle to catch your breath. You may never get used to his new speedy movements because, before you even realize you’re moving, he’s rolled you so that your limp body blankets his.
His fingers caress up and down the valley of your spine as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, heaving a sigh of pure happiness while you are once again captivated by the ring wreathing your finger.
Astarion kisses your palm, placing it on his chest, and plays with the ring on your finger. “Will you tell your friends?”
“Our friends,” you correct, even though many don’t fancy him. “Of course. I am not ashamed.”
Astarion nods with a lopsided grin. “Even Gale?”
“Especially Gale,” you giggle.
“I simply must be there when you do,” he snickers. “The look on his face is sure to be exquisite.”
“I am positive he will have choice words for me,” you laugh.
Astarion bristles, “He best watch his words when I am near. I will not tolerate him speaking down to you.”
“Easy, Ascendant,” you tut, clicking your tongue at him. “I am capable of dealing with Gale and his words. I am not a maiden in need of saving.”
Astarion relaxes, chuckling, “A maiden you most certainly are not. I am going to have to field noise complaints.”
You pat his chest, smirking, “All in a day’s work, husband. Our neighbours are going to hate us.”
“We will simply purchase all the houses in the neighbourhood if they become too bothersome,” Astarion chimes, jostling you. “Think of all the places I could make you scream for me.”
You both break into laughter together, still immersed in the intoxication of each other’s blood.
But your bliss doesn’t last long as reality grips its claws into your rapture and bleeds it dry.
You cannot possibly continue to keep what you know for him. How can you expect your love to thrive where secrets sleep? He has to know he can trust you to be honest with him, even when that honesty frightens you. You would want him to tell you if the roles were reversed.
Guilt and fear tangle together and ball in your throat. Astarion jolts at the sudden change in your mood as it resonates over the union, sinking into him as if it were his own. His brows furrow and his eyes dart around aimlessly as he tries to understand the trouble he feels.
“What is wrong, little love?” He coos, taking your hand in his. You can feel his anxiety and the quickened pace of his heart in his palm. “You are frightened. You needn’t be afraid. I am getting better at controlling it. You can tell me anything.”
You steel yourself against the panic. His. Yours. Your combined dread.
You swallow and force the words out of your mouth. “I know what ails you.”
Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things. Your support gives me the motivation to keep this fic going, and I appreciate each of you!
As always, please enjoy.
AO3 [Crossposted]
Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts
If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past
Small Notes:
-We finally got Astarion to say he loves her, multiple times, and a lot more than that. ❤️💍
How is he going to react when she finally comes clean? 🫣
#ascended astarion#astarion fanfic#bg3#bg3 fanfiction#astarion x you#astarion#bg3 astarion#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion smut#ascendant astarion#soft ascended astarion#named tav#bg3 fic#astarion x oc#astarion ancunin#astarion bg3#fangs and fractured hearts
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
imagine waking up, rolling over, and kissing an (already awake and reading a book) astarion on the cheek clumsily.
then pulling him away from the book (he scoffs but ultimately ends up setting it on the nightstand and indulging in your cuddles)
#also he would look so cute w lil reading glasses#astarion#astarion imagine#astarion x reader#baldur's gate 3#astarion x tav#astarion x you#bg3 astarion
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
Time to go maladaptive daydream about astarion until I fall asleep, good night
#baldurs gate 3#bg3#astarion x reader#bg3 astarion#astarion x tav#bg3 x reader#lynn: updates☆#astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion bg3
153 notes
·
View notes
Text
I absolutely love hearing Astarion’s laugh, whether it’s from a cheesy joke or when he cracks himself up with his twisted sense of humor. And I don’t think we see him genuinely smile with joy that often other than the times he’s being flirtatious or in his menacing aura when he’s slaughtering his enemies.
But just imagine as the two of you grew closer, it would be so easy to get him laughing. It would start out with small chuckles and the briefest hint of a smile, maybe when some of your fellow traveling companions would get in a stupid argument over the pettiest of things or when you would accidentally trip over your own feet and land flat on your face in the dirt. But as time passes, you would make it your sole purpose just to hear him laugh and it would eventually grow into a sort of a competition between the two of you to crack each other up because he would slowly come to realize how much he loves to see you smile and laugh even in the midst of all the chaos.
At first, he would hate the fact that he was growing soft and vulnerable around you and he felt like he had no control over his boundaries and would think that you were secretly plotting some sort of scheme to get him to trust you further or had him under some sort of spell. But then he started to see that you held no malicious intentions towards him and you just had an aura about you that was full of joy and happiness and was simply contagious for anyone that was around you.
And he would look so cute when he’d be smiling and seeing his crimson eyes light up, with his fangs poking out over his bottom lip and the occasional twitch of his pointy ears whenever you would share a funny story or a witty quip at his overdramatized theatrics. He would playfully pout while you would tease him and mimic his voice and actions, but it was just too hilarious for him not to smile at how comical you looked while doing so.
And if you were in a romantic relationship with him, he would enjoy having those soft moments with you where you could get him to giggle at your affections towards him, from peppering kisses all over his face to tickling and poking each other throughout the day. One of his favorite moments was when the two of you got into a water fight when you were bathing away the sweat and grime from a long day, splashing each other in a fit of laughter and genuinely enjoying your company. And he is so fond of having tender and lighthearted sex with you and making each other laugh at how ridiculous you both are in the heat of the moment while you knock foreheads together and sharing sweet kisses.
You love being able to see him in this new light where he can let his walls go down and you take pride in seeing him act more goofy than usual and he adores you for showing him a different side of intimacy that is pure and virtuous in its simplicity.
(I could go on and on about how to make this man smile and laugh because he deserves to have some happiness in his life and that’s all I want for him, he’s just so sweet.)
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#dungeons and dragons#astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion x y/n#fluff#little star library
98 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
cheeborg
cheeborg
blucomelamarea
Moi, je suis tempête et élan
starlitlakes
where all the poets went to die
