#there was a face i wanted to use for my tav but i was like wait this is literally alfira lol
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bg3's character creator's super limited face options are so lame though. not only do they cause everyone's unmodded tavs and durges to look the same, but all the npcs share the same basic faces too. and you can just find your own player character's face on a random npc. i'm on my second playthrough and i'm so sick of seeing the same generic faces everywhere and recognizing who they "belong" to (=some specific npc that my brain has decided "owns" the face).
i can understand recycling faces for some random npcs that just speak one line, but the characters that return in almost every act and are tied to specific quests should have more unique features. it's kinda funny that zevlor is one of the lucky few with an unique face, but seems like his act 3 storyline didn't even make it properly to the game.
i also have to mention that as a woman, i'm disappointed how little variation there are in the options for "female" faces. apart from maybe few half-orc options, they are all really stereotypically feminine faces and generally just really pretty, even with the makeup removed. i always want to create a more butch/androgynous looking woman and there's not many options for that in the game.
i have seen similar (well, opposite?) opinions about the "male" faces too. they are all quite masculine, almost comically so! the people in charge of creating these face presets seem to have had a pretty narrow and traditional view of what women and men should look like. it's really disappointing for a game released in 2023, not to mention for a game that allows the player to choose non-binary/other for the player character's gender. despite that choice being there, you kinda have to choose between masculine or feminine face, there's not much room for middle ground.
#baldur's gate 3#bg3 txt#bg3 critical#i'm using the terms female and male very loosely btw lol#fem and masc didn't seem fitting in this context when i use feminine and masculine as adjectives to describe the faces' features#but the point is that the game basically just gives you two options with most of the races#do you want to look like a stereotypical man or a stereotypical woman#like yeah you can change the genitals and pronouns but that's about it#especially since even the clothes change to more revealing if you choose the 'female' body type#anyway i'm lucky that only maybe 3 tiefling npcs share my tav's face#which probably means my tav is lil bit ugly lmaoo#also congrats to rolan for having an unique face AND a full storyline that starts from beginning of act 1#and if everything goes well finishes at the final battle
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Was wondering why this particular gith face always feels like it suits baldness best and then I realized it IS in fact Orpheus' face model, Orph just has different unique ears.
Anyway welcome back, dreadwolf.
#he almost had purple-blue eyes but I've wanted to use that pink on *someone*#I have vague plans for a gith from creche y'llek who was the first gith to be shown mercy by ko'kuu#think I might use him for that#blasting him with the agonizing chronic pain beam. sorry#might call him solir which is funny because it's actually the name of a sun god in one of my homebrew campaigns#but that could work for a gith born in the monastery basement of the morninglord's temple#also: cleric. for fun and profit.#realized the orph thing when I also made him yellow RIP oh well. maybe he'll be sympathetic to orpheus' plight finally#not playing him yet I have too many other characters on the docket at the moment but I keep turning his concepts around in my head#so I wanted a visual to go with#doubly glad I didn't go with the spots ko'kuu has because I think Orph has the same ones underneath those tattoos#but I like the concept of recognition as sympathy in that sense: why ko'kuu fought for him; why he might in turn fight for orpheus#hmm#we'll see#I also wanted to see what Xa'rok looked like with these spots on because in my brain they have spots on their neck (more along the sides)#but I wasn't convinced#alas#I also like that one spot pattern with the spots on the chin.#also considered a body 1 gith for this concept but again the faces vex me. I think the only face I like is the first one#I'll have to play Kresh's guardian sometime because she's pretty#I almost gave him that same tattoo because it's fun to see which tattoos go all the way up into the hair that you don't normally see#but I was adamant about leaving his face bare because I NEVER do#oh god I don't want to play a second warlock (lii'r'ai is a warlock) but this guy making a pact in the hopes of mitigating his pain... hmm#unaligned cleric/cleric of morninglord to cleric of ilmater or loviatar (once he learns about them) to warlock could be fun...#my tavs#rook's ramblings
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i love love love bg3 with all of my heart and soul and it's become one of my all-time faves for sure, but one of the few small criticisms i have for the game is.....the npc variety. very nitpicky of me of course because the love and care that was put into this game cannot be emphasized enough by any means, but i've ran into so many lakrissa's and alfira's and that bonecloak lady and even seeing my own tav's face multiple times throughout the game across non-random NPCs is kind of....um...yeah. when i saw my guardian lookalike in the city sewers in my first run i was so confused thinking it was a trick (cus they even had the same hair color and everything lmao) until I Realized.
and it just makes me appreciate hzd and of course hfw too and marvel at how varied the character face models are, even for sidequest characters. like i don't think i ever saw another talanah, another gildun, another ikrie, another silga...and if they ARE repeated, i'd imagine it's from those random NPCs walking about that you don't have like zoomed-in face-to-face conversations. like damn, that's just so impressive and playing bg3 has made me appreciate that even more.
#junk#i'll tag the games later#but like even dd2 which again say what you will about that game but that game's character creation is sooooo amazing and while some NPCs#do look a bit weird i don't think i ever saw a lookalike in another npc walking about. like how the hell did they do that.#anyway again just a very minor criticism about the game but it's kind of weird noticing it now in my third run how many faces are re-used#there was a face i wanted to use for my tav but i was like wait this is literally alfira lol#i mean yeah you can vary it a lot by putting tattoos and makeup and hairstyle but still kind of weird once you start noticing it#also pains me to lump talanah in the list of sidequest characters and not main but alas that is how she seems to be treated.... orz
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eue this is what your art does to my brain
Stop giving me good ideas and making me want to reply to asks with art you bastards!!!
#literally tho#ur a big reason why i finallyyy spent more time figuring how to do digital art#and now i know how to run my system and tablet!!!!#like#i make fan art of our durges#and other things too but#Du Drow is *chefs kiss*#i want our Bhaal babes to fight fuck and come super close to murdering each other#but they have such a hard mf fime killijg the other they have mad respect for the others game#and then it becomes#friends (manipulation) city between the two of them#its secrety contencious with a kind and nice face#and my tav is secretly obsessed over him in a very unhinged inappropriate way#he WILL encourage drow to become increasingly tadpoled#he must have a chokehold over him somehow and worm his way in to his good side#just so he use or betray him later
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Astarion Romance Headcanons 🥀
SFW:
Side glances when you're besides him
Full on staring when you're not
Immediately looking away when you catch him
"You know the way he looks at you, don't you, soldier?"
His pinky itching towards yours when you're walking, wanting to hold your hand but unsure because, is it too much? Will you reject him?
His hands scrunching up your shirt tightly whenever you hug. He's always the last to let go.
You hold on longer and longer each time because he doesn't want to let go.
His kisses are tender and needy.
He likes the warmth of your hands.
Thinking of what tones will suit your perfume the best. He'll gift it to you after all this is over.
He'll sew the holes or tears in your clothes over the night and pretend he doesn't know what happened next morning.
When you move to kiss his cheek he will grimace in annoyance but lean in as you do it.
"Be careful around Astarion, (Tav). He's not serious about you.", the others will warn you. And Astarion will worry you'll heed their words more than his so he'll do so much to prove his love to you, not knowing that you already trust him (even if that is an objectively stupid thing to do lmao).
He started sleeping next to you from the moment you had sex but ever since you've entered the shadowlands, he ends up cuddling in the middle of the night. He misses the sun.
He likes kissing the palm of your hand or its back.
Likes to pack your bag before you leave camp.
"No one's ever going to love me like that again."
Ever since you told him that there's more to him than just beauty and sex, that he's hilarious, for instance, he finds ways to make you laugh. He loves it. He's started being a lot more sarcastic and makes more jokes just to hear your laughter. He'll never admit it, of course. Other than maybe when it's only you two.
Doesn't believe he will be able to love again if you let go of him.
"Don't be so nice to me." he says with round, needy and pleading eyes.
Thinking of ways he can show others you're together so others know you're not available.
Hiding his jealousy, terribly.
He will rip the throat out of anyone with malicious intent towards you.
"I will wait the whole of my life for you, Astarion." He doesn't believe it at first, but the longer you go on without sex the safer he feels and the more he wants you.
NSFW:
He sometimes cries silently at night, wishing he could make love to you without it feeling so tainted. He wants it so badly, but his past experience prohibits it. The pain of wanting something and being unable to have it only because of himself is too much. He blames himself too sometimes. Wishing he could give you more.
"I don't mind waiting.", you'd say.
"I do. I can't have you, no matter how much I want you.", he'd say.
When you cuddle him sensing he's upset, he will bury his face in your neck to hide his tears. The smell of you is comforting.
Needing you everytime you're tender with him.
Getting aroused when you hug during a kiss.
Wanting to kiss your skin all over, to make you cry from pleasure as you bury your face in his neck.
Wanting you to hold on to him for dear life as you climax.
When he's finally comfortable enough and takes charge of his own sexuality, he'll be so needy.
Realising that the two nights he had sex with you were nothing compared to how good making love to you feels.
When you give up all control to him, letting him do to you as he wants, the pleasure is almost too much bear. The power he feels is palpable and knowing it is you who trusts him so much will drive him near mad.
He will lose control many times so you have a safe word.
You both think of the stupidest word possible as a safe word. Something that makes you both laugh when it's used.
He likes over stimulating you, making you beg and he'll kiss you to calm you.
"It's okay, you can do it, darling.", he'll say stroking you even further and kissing your tears.
"Does that feel good, my love?"
The more you beg the more he loves it.
He likes playing with your hands, holding them in his, touching your fingers, comparing them to his while you rest on his chest, still warm from him being inside of you.
Resting his head against your chest to hear your heartbeat.
Staring at your face and body intently. Taking in every little reaction you make and replaying them over in his head throughout the day.
Staring at you longingly when you're both with the squad, failing terribly at focusing in battle or conversation.
Getting aroused when you're covered in blood.
Seeing you fighting, in general, turns him on. The smell of your sweat, your rapid heart beat, the way your body moves, all of it now only reminds him of making love to you.
Telling you to say his name whenever he's feeling good and you'll chant it as you cum. He loves how it sounds from your lips.
Resting his forehead against yours as he's close to cumming.
"Look at me.", he'll command you.
He likes when your hands rake his hair, pull his hair, tug it whatever. That slight bit of pain arouses him. Better yet, if you bury your nails into his skin.
He likes to look at you falling asleep. It's such a gentle thing. How can someone so strong otherwise be so soft around him? Why him? Why did someone like you choose someone like him? He can't believe he has you.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/50833876/chapters/128419966 I am updating these hcs on my ao3, if anyone is interested!
#i've never written gender neutral reader before so im sorry if i messed up >.<#astarion#bg3#Astarion Ancunin#Bg3 astarion#Baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#Baldur's gate 3 astarion#astarion angst#astarion and tav#Astarion romance#astarion pov#astarion spoilers#astarion x reader#astarion bg3#astarion x tav#astarion analysis#baldurs gate#astarion hc#astarion headcanon#astarion fanfic
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Burns Like Rum
Ship: Astarion x female!human!reader/Tav
Summary: Astarion's hunger worsens every day and you don't have any blood to spare—but that doesn't stop you from inadvertently tempting him at every turn. Luckily for both of you, you've both got the same idea to cure him of his hunger.
Word Count: 7,840 words
Warnings: sexual content (18+), menstruating reader, hungry Astarion, mutual pining, possibly OOC dialogue, vampire feeding, soft Astarion, no particular timeline but Astarion hasn't told you anything yet
18+ Warnings: period sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), hand job, bite kink, blood kink, aftercare, use of the words cunt & cock
Note: For my usual readers, more Stranger Things content is coming, I promise! But this bitey boy currently owns my heart so I'm gonna show him some love :)
☟ Continue below the fold ☟
Astarion was hungry, and it was entirely your fault, for more than one reason.
The first was that, almost a month ago now, you had let Astarion drink from you. He'd been starving, and it didn't help that the others had given him strict rules about feeding, so when he flashed those sad but gorgeous red eyes at you, complaining of hunger, you'd all but gifted him your neck.
He'd practically drained you that night. You had been weak for days. Of course, the others, namely Gale and Lae'zel, were furious with you for letting him drink from you, but the sated, content look on his face after feeding made it all worth it to you. He'd become more comfortable around you after that, too, and you'd considered that an improvement.
It hadn't been all that bad, really, for him to sink his teeth into you and drink until your grip on him had grown so weak that he'd let up to check on you. In fact, it had been...rather pleasant. He'd been gentle, careful, his bite sharp but considerate. You knew then that you'd risk becoming anemic for a week just to feel the pleasure of his hand cradling your neck and head, his mouth against your neck, his tongue soothing the bite he'd left when he'd had his fill.
But in the weeks that followed, his hunger gradually returned, and with a vengeance. It was as if he'd never fed from you at all, suffering hunger pangs he hid from the others—but you noticed, recognizing them from the night he'd begged you to let him drink from you.
You'd offered him more of your blood since then, but he'd refused you every time. He could smell your guilt, your need to make him feel better simply because you felt responsible for his current pain.
"I won't accept blood from someone who feels obligated to give it to me," he'd said, and his tone made it difficult to tell if he was being snide or kind.
Sometimes, you simply didn't understand that man.
And then three days ago, you'd been injured in a fight. It was nothing fatal, the gash in your midsection missing any major muscles and not deep enough to jeopardize your organs, but it was bloody. You'd limped your way back to camp, your head swimming, the world around you growing darker around the edges with every step.
You'd fainted in Astarion's arms—although collapsed was a better word for it, according to Karlach—drenched in blood, some of which was yours and some of which that wasn't.
"You should have seen his face!" Karlach had laughed when you'd woken up the next morning, woozy but fine thanks to Shadowheart. The blood loss kept you off your feet for the day to recover, and Karlach had taken the time to visit you.
"What do you mean?" you asked, although you already had a good idea what might have happened after you passed out.
"You put him in a right pickle, collapsing on him like that, all covered in blood and losing more of it quickly," she said. "He didn't know what to do with you. It was— It was like he didn't want to drop you, but he really did want to drop you, because all he wanted to do was drink from you. Can't say as I blame him—he's not fed in weeks and you turn up with his next meal draining out of you." You hid your face in your hands with a groan. "Why'd you beeline for him anyway? Shadowheart's tent was just a few paces away!"
You glared at her through your fingers. "You know why I went to him, Karlach!" She, of all people, would understand. She had been the first person to find out that, as much as you flirted with them all, Astarion was the one you wanted.
"Well, obviously," she said, "but it didn't occur to you that he might...have an adverse reaction?"
Rolling your eyes, you snarked, "No, Karlach, it didn't, I was bleeding out and suffering from head trauma. I just...saw someone I trusted to keep me safe and ran to him."
She cocked her head to the side. "That's sweet, but stupid."
You snorted. "Yeah, I know—Shadowheart won't stop yelling at me for it."
You hadn't seen Astarion until that night, when the group of you had gathered at the campfire. It hadn't meant to be like that; you'd seen him and had wanted to talk to him, at least apologize for throwing your bloody body at him, but Shadowheart followed you closely to keep you safe and soon the others had gathered.
It had been like a very strange family dinner, made awkward by everyone dancing around exactly why you'd gone to Astarion, knowing a hungry vampire and fresh blood were not a good mix.
The final reason you were making his hunger unbearable made itself known at the end of the night, when it was just you, Astarion, and Shadowheart at the dying fire.
She must have caught sight of the way you kept looking at Astarion out of the corner of your eye, embarrassedly looking away or pretending to gaze into the trees behind him every time he caught you looking. She tapped your shoulder and told you she needed to get rest. The "you should, too" was implied, hanging in the air along with her worry about your healing.
"I'm fine, Shadowheart, really," you insisted. "I won't rip myself open again, I promise."
"I'll keep an eye on her," Astarion promised. "Nothing too...strenuous for her just yet." Something in his voice made you shiver.
She left the two of you alone. You looked first at the fire, then down at your hands, folded in your lap. Anywhere than at him.
You didn't even hear him move. You only knew he had when you felt him sit on the log beside you, one of his hands covering your own.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft. "I...am sorry I didn't visit you, it's just—"
"It's just that I threw myself at you when it looked like I'd taken a shower in blood and that made things a wee bit difficult?" you interrupted, the words spilling out before you had time to process that you were speaking. Embarrassed heat flushed through you instantly.
But Astarion only gave you that soft, slightly toothy smile. You drank it in, relishing his smile lines and the brief contentment on his face. "Something like that, yes," he said. "I was...worried I might hurt you if I saw you again and you still smelled so deliciously of your blood. I'm so hungry, darling, it's unbearable. All I wanted was to feast until there was nothing left of you, and I'd never forgive myself if I—"
"Stop." You held up your hand. "Please. I don't... Don't be so nice to me, it makes me feel like I'm on my deathbed."
Astarion laughed, throwing his head back. "I'd hardly call wanting to drain you nice, my love." Almost unconsciously, your gaze dipped to his exposed neck and you wondered idly what he would do if you were to bite him back.
Probably the strenuous activity Astarion had promised Shadowheart you wouldn't be doing.
He met your gaze, a sudden depth and seriousness in his crimson stare. "Stick with me, and you might soon be on your deathbed." Pointedly, he broke eye contact with you, letting his eyes drop first to your neck and then further down your body. You tingled, the feeling reminiscent of the anemia that had possessed your body in the hours and days after he'd drank from you.
You realized Astarion was waiting for a reaction from you, hoping for something more than your stunned silence. So you let your eyes drift across his body, resting on his mouth as you said, "Doesn't sound like a bad way to go out."
From the back of his throat came a sound that wasn't quite a growl or a groan, but somewhere in between, just as needy as either sound. "Don't tempt me, darling," he whispered. "I promised Shadowheart I'd keep you safe, and you certainly wouldn't be if I did everything I want."
Your heart skipped a beat. "Astarion..."
He closed his eyes, leaning toward you, releasing a tense breath. "Darling..."
"What if I want to tempt you?" You put your hand on his leg, sliding closer to him.
"Cheeky thing," he said, eyes opening in small slits. "But only when you're healed. I can still smell the blood on you." He sighed. "You have no idea how much restraint it takes not sink my teeth into that pretty neck of yours."
You frowned. "But I am healed," you said. "Just tender. Shadowheart wouldn't have let me leave her tent otherwise."
"I can't blame you for wanting me," Astarion teased, that familiar charm honeying his words, "but I've never been wrong." He cupped your cheek, his touch taking the bite out of his words. He offered you a small, sympathetic smile.
You put your hand to your abdomen, half-expecting to find that your wound had ripped open of its own accord. Your shirt and the bandage beneath it was dry—but a sudden twinge of pain, appearing only once it had been acknowledged, came from lower. You hissed.
Astarion sat up straighter. "What is it? Are you alright?"
"Shit. I think I've figured out why you still smell blood," you said through clenched teeth.
Astarion's eyes dipped to where your hand rested. "It's that time again already, is it?"
"It's early," you groaned. You stood slowly, regretting it instantly.
He tracked you as you moved, his gaze becoming dangerous and predatory. It was the look that had scared you when he drank from you, practically convincing you he wasn't going to stop. Still, his need for you burned through you like rum, its heat spreading through your belly.
"I didn't smell it before, not under all the blood you had on you," he said. His voice was deep, dark, dangerous. "But, oh, darling—I smell it now." He licked his lips and your stomach did flips that were neither pleasant or unpleasant. The hunger in his eyes was palpable
"I, ah, have to go. For your sake and mine. Um. So, uh, goodnight, Astarion. I...I'll see you when this is all over."
He stood up quickly. "Darling, do you need—" He cut himself off as you waved away his concern, crossing the camp to your own tent.
"No! Goodnight!" you called over your shoulder.
Astarion sighed. "...Night."
~❊~
You avoided Astarion like the plague. Well, perhaps not, because while you never wanted to see the disease, you were always on the lookout for your favorite vampire.
You caught glimpses of him through the open flaps of your tent, sauntering by with a swagger you found unfairly attractive. You saw him reading on his own when Shadowheart helped you changed your bandages, his handsome face fixed in concentration. A few hours later, you heard him arguing with Gale about the very same book, which had apparently gone missing, and you hated the flutter in your stomach at the growl in his angry voice.
"Stop that," Karlach said, glancing up at you as the pair of you cooked, Karlach helping you roast root vegetables evenly.
"Stop what?"
"Mooning over him," she said, jerking her head in Astarion's direction.
Your body flushed with heat. "I'm not—"
"You are, and we can all tell, and you should just get it over with, but only if you mean it."
You frowned, tearing your eyes away from the blessed sight that was Astarion basking in the sun. "Sorry, what?"
Karlach sighed. "If you sleep with him—" You spluttered. "—it had better be because you truly want him and not because you're bleeding."
You blinked at her. "Karlach, of course I want him, you've heard me talk about him before this!"
"I know, I know," she relented, "but I have a feeling there's more to our vampire than meets the eye." She glanced over at Astarion. "Just...be kind to him, dear. He's more fragile than he looks."
You followed her gaze over to him. He was stretching, his arms lifted high above his head, undoubtedly oblivious to the two of you watching him. Want and need bubbled up inside of you, both clamoring for Astarion, agreeing that he would fulfill them both. The deep-seated lust you'd had for him since he'd first put a knife to your neck burned even brighter as the breeze that had been kicking up dust all morning played with the silver hair curling around his ears.
His nostrils flared and you knew he'd smelled you. He looked over at you and Karlach and you froze. She waved cheerily, then frowned at you when you didn't move. You swallowed harshly and went back to removing the scales from the fish in your lap.
"He doesn't like not being around you either, you know," Karlach said, returning to the task at hand. "He's always looking at you when you're not looking. You're perfect for each other like that."
"I don't want to make this harder for him by being around him," you said, glancing back over at him. He was watching you as he poured himself a glass of wine. Had it been normal circumstances, when you weren't driving him insane simply by smelling like blood, you would have teased him for day-drinking. "He's already so hungry, I'd only make that worse. It was bad enough I threw myself at him covered in his favorite snack!"
Karlach snorted. The sound of a light laugh floated over to you and you looked up to find Astarion smirking into his goblet. He beckoned you over and your eyes grew wide.
"Excuse me for a moment, Karlach," you said, clearing your throat.
Karlach followed your gaze and giggled. "More than a moment, dear. I'll come back later to help you finish this." She left the log you'd been sharing and you waited until she was in her own tent again before you jumped to your feet and practically ran to Astarion.
"Hello, darling," he purred. "Care for a drink?"
"I could go for a little," you said.
Astarion smiled, that rakish charm summoning warmth that spread through your entire body. "I hope you like red," he said, and put his own goblet to your lips.
You held his gaze as you drank. You saw his nostrils flare, his pupils growing large. You knew he could hear how your heart was racing, could smell your arousal mixing with your blood.
He pulled the goblet away from your lips and took another swig. You licked the red wine off your lower lip and heard the breath catch in his chest.
"You're starving, aren't you?"
"You have no idea," he whispered.
"I might," you said. "Thought I'd say it's a hunger of a different kind."
Astarion's smirk was so wide you could see his fangs clearly. "Oh, really, darling?"
You nodded, taking a step closer to him. He breathed in deeply. "We could help each other, you know. Satiate our hungers."
His eyes grew dark, trained on yours. "Is that so?" He raised his hand, nearly brushing your cheek, but stopped himself just before he touched you. "You'd let me soothe your pain by..." His gaze dropped to your waistline. "...eating from you?"
A tremor passed through you at the sound of his voice, deeper than you'd ever heard it, laced with a danger and a seduction you were embarrassed to find attractive. Your body was tuned to it, his words seeming to drop like a stone from your ears to your core, spreading fire through your veins and melting your organs.
Astarion took a small step closer to you and took your chin in three gentle fingers, tilting your head up toward him. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you then and there. "I'm going to need an answer, darling."
"Yes." You couldn't get the word out fast enough. It came out breathy, nearly lost on the wind still swirling between you.
He chuckled. "Well, then. You asked for it." He dropped the hand on your chin back to his side. "Once everyone else is asleep, come find me. We'll find a quiet place and...have a little fun."
~❊~
Of all the nights, it had to be this one where everyone came to check on you before they went to sleep. Thanks to Astarion avoiding you like the plague when the two of you had become inseparable, your monthly bleed had become public knowledge. So practically everyone in camp came to you with solutions you declined, claiming to feel fine, even though your pain had worsened over the course of the day.
You watched Astarion slink off into the forest after the sun had gone down and waited until the others were sequestered in their tents, nearly an hour later, to pull your boots back on, stand on shaky feet, and follow the path you assumed he'd taken.
You had started to believe you'd taken a wrong turn somewhere when you heard his cool voice from behind you: "There you are. I've been waiting."
Astarion stepped out of the shadows. He ran his gaze over you, observing your slightly hunched stance, your hand on your lower abdomen. Your shoulders relaxed at the sight of him; he looked softer in the moonlight. The silver light fell across his curls and the statuesque panes of his face, somehow making that face that was so gaunt with hunger unbelievably beautiful.
He looked like a poet or a god, even in just the simple shirt he insisted on wearing around camp instead of the finer silks you knew he carried with him. Or perhaps it was the simplicity that made him so godly. You couldn't tell.
A frown graced his brow. "The pain is worse now, isn't it?"
You nodded. "Just a bit."
Astarion left the small hill he stood on and came closer to you. He offered you his hand. "Come on, dear, let me make you feel better."
You let him guide you away from the path you had taken and into a small clearing just a few feet away, conveniently hidden by thickets, trees, and tall grass. He stood aside, letting you take it in for a moment, as if waiting for your approval of the place. You looked down at the mossy ground and decided it would be soft enough.
"Well, this is nice," you said, seconds before you heard fabric rustling. You turned and blinked rapidly at what you saw: Astarion, his shirt now off and in his hands. You watched him lay it down where the ground was most level. Your breath caught horribly in your throat at the sight of the scar covering his back. You fought back the urge to ask, knowing it would only piss him off.
He turned back to you with a smile. "Your bed for the evening, my love," he said, gesturing to it.
"Oh, Astarion, I can't, I don't want to get blood on your shirt. What would the others—"
Astarion cupped your face in one hand. "The others will assume I hunted something and got messy," he said. "And I'll enjoy your scent while I have it."
Flutters in your stomach nearly brought you to your knees. You looked up at him, drawing in a tiny breath, and brought your hand up to hold the wrist that cradled your cheek.
"Please," you whispered, unsure of exactly what you were begging for but knowing what you wanted.
"Promise me you'll tell me if...I'm too much," Astarion said, and you got the sense he'd changed what he was going to say.
You nodded, whispering your promise, and wound your free hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, standing on your tiptoes to push your lips to his.
It was a messy first kiss. It was little more than teeth and spit, but it felt like heaven anyway, because his free arm was winding around your waist and pressing your bodies together, his leg sliding between yours. Bliss spread through you, starting at your core.
Astarion pulled away from you. "Someone's eager, isn't she?"
You whimpered and he stifled it with another kiss, softer than the first. He was gentle, more than you'd expected from a starving man. He cupped the back of your head and your hand dropped to his hip. You opened your mouth to him and reveled in the feeling of his tongue sliding against yours. He made a soft sound of satisfaction and pushed his leg up against your clothed core. You moaned loudly, your grip on him tightening. Need flooded you and your hips pushed down on his leg, finding relief in the pressure.
The two of you pressed your foreheads together, breathing heavily.
"Shh, darling, not too loud. You don't want the others to come investigate, do you?" His cheeky tone suggested he would love it if the others found the two of you like this—or, perhaps, further along.
You wrapped both arms around his neck and buried your head into his shoulder, heat burning through you, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. You felt like there was a pendulum inside you, swinging constantly between wanting to slow down, afraid of coming off as too eager, and desperately needing him to get to it.
Astarion chuckled. "Don't hide, love." He smoothed his hand over your hair. "You do trust me, don't you?"
You kissed his shoulder and heard his breath catch. "With my life, Astarion."
"Are you ready?"
You nodded and he walked you over to his shirt and helped you to sit on it. He watched you lay down, his gaze falling your exposed neck. There was something more than hunger in his eyes; it made your breathing hitch.
Astarion crawled over you and placed his hand underneath your head before he kissed you. You draped your arm over his shoulders, holding him close to you, enjoying the soft touch of his lips against yours. It was chaste, as were the next few that followed it in quick succession, one after the other.
One hand slid down your body and stopped at the hem of your trousers. He tugged at the shirt tucked into them. "Darling? May I?"
"Please do," you said.
"Arms up."
He pulled the fabric over your head and tossed it to the side. He looked down at your torso from where he straddled your hips. His hands skimmed over you and he leaned down, pressing more gentle kisses to your neck and collarbones. Your body tingled with remembrance, practically yearning to feel his fangs sink into your neck, to feel your blood leave you with a burning that felt like intoxication.
"Astarion." His name was a breathy cry on your lips, and you saw how much he liked the sound of it when he looked up at you, a smile curving onto the lips still pressed to your skin.
"Yes, dear?"
You gently coaxed him back up to you with your hand on his chin. "Let me kiss you."
He smiled, brighter than the moonlight falling around you, and you pressed your mouth to his. He hummed happily into your mouth, a pleasant sensation that made you reluctant to break the kiss. But you did, kissing along his jaw and down his neck instead. You nipped gently at his neck, pulling a surprised laugh from him.
"Really, darling? Biting the vampire?" Astarion's eyes were sparkling with amusement. His face had relaxed into an easy smile. It was a good look on him; you liked it.
You giggled and placed another kiss over the bite. The pair of you rolled onto your sides and you peppered his chest with kisses, your arm wrapped loosely around his waist. You went back up to his neck and sucked lightly.
"So much for the others not knowing," he teased.
You looked at him through your lashes. "What if I want them to know?"
"Cheeky little thing," he whispered, dragging a finger down the side of your face. "As much as I love this—and believe me, I do love this—I can't wait any longer. I'm starving, darling. Let me taste you. Please."
Slightly subdued, you rolled onto your back. "Alright," you whispered, your chest tightening in anticipation.
Astarion climbed on top of you again. He undid the laces at the front of your trousers and slipped his hand inside them, moving slowly and keeping his eyes locked on yours.
The moment two of his fingers slid between your wet folds, your eyes fluttered shut and a happy sigh slipped from your lips.
"There she is," he whispered, his eyes half-lidded, as he worked you gently and slowly. You felt the blood and arousal gather on his fingers as he grew closer to your entrance. He dragged them back up to your clit and rubbed in a slow circle. You gasped, arching into his touch. Astarion giggled. "Oh, you like that, don't you?"
You wriggled underneath him, trying everything in your power to get more of his touch. He smiled down at you, kissing your cheek and cooing softly at you. If he spoke words, you didn't hear them, too lost in the pleasure he easily, skillfully, brought to you.
Without warning, Astarion plunged both fingers into your entrance. You moaned, grabbing at his hair. He chuckled, curling his fingers inside you. Whimpers slipped past your lips; you couldn't have controlled them if you tried, but you were by no means trying. His smile grew with every sound you made, and you wanted nothing more than to see that smile.
Just as suddenly as he'd pushed his fingers in, he pulled them out. You whined instantly but he shushed you and removed his hand from your pants. A small streak of blood was left on the skin of your stomach as he raised his hand to his mouth. You watched raptly as he licked your blood from his fingers, never once breaking eye contact with you.
He wasn't even touching you and the fire in your belly grew at the sight.
Astarion moaned softly around his fingers. You watched his deft tongue catch every drop of blood, thinned by your arousal, from his hand. He whispered your name in a whine and you let go of a long breath.
Once he'd licked his fingers clean, he bent down and yanked your trousers off your legs. You spread them automatically and he put one leg between them. He pulled off your undergarments and sat back, admiring your naked body with a satisfied smirk.
"Look at you," he whispered.
The need for him to touch you won out over the desire for him to keep staring at you. "Astarion." His name was a loud whine, emphasized by your writhing hips.
He chucked. "Needy girl." His hand returned to your cunt, his palm applying pressure to your clit while his fingers toyed with your bloody folds. His eyes practically rolled into the back of his head, the smell of blood so heady even you could smell it.
He teased your entrance for a moment and pulled his fingers back up, the tips of them coated in thick blood that looked black in the night. He sucked it from his fingers with a toothy smile, his fangs peeking out over his bottom lip.
You pushed your hips up enough to catch his eye. "Please," you whimpered.
"Alright, love, alright," he said. He put his hand back and slipped his fingers back inside you. Relief curled through you—as did his fingers. "I'll starve myself a bit longer for your pleasure."
You cupped his neck and brought his face to yours and kissed him fiercely. He made a surprised but pleased sound into your mouth and quickened his pace. You gasped against his lips and he ducked his head to your neck, kissing you quickly with every curl of his fingers.
You twisted your fingers through his hair, rapidly kissing the top of his head, pushing your hips up into his hand. He chuckled, his breath ghosting over your skin and raising goosebumps. You shuddered in his arms.
"I've got you," he murmured, sucking a light mark into your neck. You felt his teeth prick you and saw the shudder that passed through his body at the tiny droplets of blood that appeared.
He pulled away from your neck and curled his fingers just so. You groaned.
"Astarion!" you cried, throwing your head back.
He grinned and quickened his pace. You sucked in a deep breath, fighting back tears of pleasure.
"Let go, darling," he whispered. "I've got you."
Astarion looked back down at your neck. He locked eyes with you as he pressed his tongue to your skin, slowly licking up the droplets as they began to run down your neck. The combination of his intense stare and the movement of his fingers was all you needed; with a loud cry, you came on his fingers, your walls clenching so hard around him he could hardly keep moving them.
He chuckled. "That's it, dear, that's it." He cooed softly, helping you through it with his voice, his soft touch, and gentle kisses to your lips.
You were breathing hard when he finally pulled his fingers out of you. You whimpered at the slight pain but realized your cramps had all but disappeared.
Judging by the state of his hand, you didn't want to know how bloody his shirt was. It looked as though he'd reached into someone's chest and ripped their heart out; his hand was drenched and rivulets of blood ran all the way down to his elbow.
Astarion giggled at the sight while you burned with embarrassment. "Well, well, well. Someone's happy, isn't she?"
"So are you," you said, nodding to the bulge in his pants.
He grinned. "Well, what did you expect? You were quite vocal, my needy little thing." His eyes drifted back down to your cunt, lust curling through his gaze. "Tight and wet and utterly desperate for me."
He licked a stripe up his hand, his eyes fluttering shut. "Oh, darling, you taste good." He sucked your blood off of every finger, pleasure sliding over his face.
You smiled. "There's more where that came from."
Astarion raised one perfect brow. "Can you handle another little death?" he teased.
You nodded. "I can take a few more."
He chuckled and groaned at the same time. "Oh, my love, don't make promises you can't keep."
You met his gaze as he finished cleaning off his hand. "Believe me, I can keep it."
The vampire grinned. "Very well, then. I'll eat good tonight."
He kissed you chastely as he put his hand between your legs again.
Astarion brought you pleasure unlike anything you'd ever felt before as his fingers slid over your blood-slick skin, teasing your folds and entrance with a smirk, often just barely inserting the tip of his finger before pulling it out again and tracing over your clit and smearing blood across your skin. He kissed and sucked on your breasts, leaving darkening bruises and tiny scratches from his teeth, licking up the tiny beads of blood that sprung from each nick. He kissed along the line of scarring and stitches you had gotten from your injury, fading fast but still a reminder of what had gotten you on your back for him in the first place. Now that he'd eaten a little, he was intently focused on bringing you to the edge and pulling you back, again and again and again.
He worked another orgasm out of you and was on his way to coaxing out the third when you stopped him.
"Is it too much?" he asked, frowning. His unbloodied hand moved to rest on your hip, his thumb smoothing over your skin. His eyes searched your face, looking for anything to tell him why you'd stopped him.
You shook your head. "I need more, Astarion," you gasped, slurring his name into Astari. The unintended nickname made him blush. "I need more of you. Please. Please."
The smile returned to his face, cockier than before. "Oh, darling. I need more of you, too," he said, looking into your cunt and licking his lips. "I could just eat you up."
You spread your legs wider. He settled between them. "Please do."
He breathed in deep and his eyes practically rolled back into his head. "You're going to be the death of me— Ah. Well, you would be, if I was alive."
You frowned. "Would this even be happening if you were alive?"
Astarion thought for a moment. "Let's not think about the logistics," he decided and licked the drying blood from his fingers off your abdomen. Your body trembled. He lifted your legs over his shoulders. You squeaked and smiled at him.
"Lay back," he whispered. You obliged him.
Wet warmth touched your skin just above your clit and you glanced down at him, watching him slowly lick the drying blood from your skin. He kissed your skin as he cleaned it, leaving you covered in slowly darkening bruises.
You stared at the stars as he pressed a soft first kiss to your clit. You let out a slow breath and he began to suck, his lips closing around it, his tongue licking light stripes.
You pushed your hips against his mouth. "Circles," you whispered.
"As you wish," he said, his breath fanning over your cunt and making you tremble. He went back to his feast, licking in circles this time, and you let out a soft whimper. You reached down and he reached up, lacing your fingers together and squeezing your hand. You squeezed back.
He moved further down until his nose bumped your clit and his lips found your entrance. He moaned, the sound deep and guttural, at the taste of your blood. He lapped at your entrance, his tongue sweeping up the blood as soon as it collected there. You shuddered, your breaths coming in heaves.
Astarion kissed your entrance once before he dove in, pushing his tongue into your cunt. You gasped and he laughed and buried his face in you.
Through the pleasure, you wondered dimly how he was breathing (did he, as a vampire, need to breathe?), but the thought was pushed away the moment his splayed fingers on your hip dug into your flesh and pulled you even closer to his mouth.
The sounds you were making were obscene: your moans were loud and coarse, and your cunt squelched lewdly as he drank your blood and arousal. You felt filthy, aware that the mix was running down your legs and buttocks but knowing the vampire eating you out was enjoying you too much to care.
Astarion himself was quite vocal, moaning into you and making you shiver. He whimpered, whined, groaned, and keened, growing louder with every swallow of blood. He alternated between watching you writhe and squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure.
You watched his hand slide from your hip to his bulge. He palmed himself through his trousers, hissing in pleasure, and the sight was enough to send you over the edge for a third time.
But Astarion didn't let up. He lapped at you, sucking so harshly your pleasure bordered pain, until your legs stopped shaking and your breathing evened out.
He lifted his head with a grin. "How do I look?"
You looked at him and started laughing. He was the smiliest you had ever seen him, his eyes practically glowing, and the lower half of his face was covered in your blood. His teeth were stained red and sticky blood dripped slowly from his fangs. It ran down his chin in rivulets and splatters dotted his lower cheeks like freckles. Some of it was even in his hair.
"You're ridiculous," you giggled. "And a messy eater."
He snorted. "Excuse you!"
"It's all over your face!"
He sat up with a grin, licking his lips. "You mean you are all over my face."
Satisfaction curled through you. "Yes," you said, reaching for him. He took your hand again. "Yes I am."
He wiped his face with his hand and licked it clean once again. You reached up and wiped some off on your thumb, then held it out to him. He took your thumb into his mouth and sucked. Your heart stopped beating.
"Feeling better?" he asked you, lightly placing his palm over your abdomen, applying a little pressure, and rubbing gentle circles.
"Much better," you said. "Thank you. But, ah..." Your gaze drifted from his beautiful, if slightly pink, face and down to his bulge. It was just as, if not more, prominent now that he'd gone down on you. "What about you?"
Astarion smirked. "I like your enthusiasm, but don't worry about me. Not tonight, darling."
You frowned. "Why not? What if I want you inside of me?" You walked two fingers up his leg and slowly covered his crotch with your palm. When he didn't protest and his eyes fluttered shut, you gave him a gentle squeeze. He let out a soft moan through closed lips and tilted his head back. You kissed the column of his neck and bit down gently. You sucked—hard—and a rumbling moan came from his chest.
"Because," he said finally, drawing in a ragged breath. "Because that would be a terrible waste of your precious blood." He looked at you with half-lidded eyes. "When this is over, I promise you, you can have as much of me as you want." He pushed his hips into your hand and you gave him another gentle squeeze. He gasped.
You nuzzled into him and his arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you there. "And what if I want all of you?"
The question hung in the air. He looked at you for a long time and suddenly you saw the fragility Karlach had mentioned this afternoon, which felt like years ago instead of mere hours. You reached up to cup his cheek and, though you were stark naked, the sexual desire in the air seemed to have disappeared.
"I want all of you, Astari," you whispered. The nickname made his eyes grow wide. "All of you, in every way, for as long as possible. If you'll let me. If you want me, too."
He whimpered, and the sound was broken. You hated hearing that pain coming from him. "I want you, I do, I just..." He closed his eyes and you were suddenly very sure there was a darkness, a secret, he was trying to hide from you. You were certain it had to do with his vampiric master he'd so often complained about. "I'll try, my darling, I'll try for you."
You sat up on your knees and cupped his face in both hands and kissed him. You didn't break the kiss once as you pressed your body against his and held him tightly. You felt the scar on his back and wanted to ask but didn't, letting him keep his secrets for now.
His arms came around you, cradling your back and holding you tight to him. The kiss became a long-lasting hug, the both of you burying your heads in each other's shoulders until Astarion pulled away from you, a smile on his face. You returned that smile and sat back on your heels.
His eyes trailed over your body again. There was a note of nervousness in his voice as he asked, "Darling, would you mind...touching me again? I could use some relief."
You grinned. "Of course, my love. All you had to do was ask."
Relief crossed his face. He leaned back as you trailed your hand from his shoulder, down his chest, and back to his bulge. You tipped his head back with your free hand and kissed his neck while you rubbed him. He pushed his hips into your hand, sighing blissfully, and your hand was in his trousers in seconds. He grew loud, thrusting his cock into your hand with a power that surprised you.
"Take what you need," you told him, your voice hushed, your lips directly next to his ear. "Help me give you what you want."
He whimpered, your name a broken cry from his lips, and he cuddled into you as he came. He buried his head into your neck, hiding his eyes and barely holding back grunts. As his thrusts grew weaker and you slowed your hand on him, you felt hot tears on your neck and wondered what this poor man had been through that he hadn't yet told you.
You removed your hand from his pants and he immediately wrapped you in another hug, one strong enough to knock you down and knock the breath of you. You held him as tightly as he held you.
When Astarion at last pulled away from you, his tears had stopped but his eyes still shone with them. He kissed you softly.
"Thank you," he whispered. "I... Thank you."
You brushed some of his hair from his face. "What's wrong?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. You were... It's just that no one has cared about me during sex in a very long time and...you did. So...thank you."
You took his hand and squeezed it. "Oh, Astarion," you cooed. "I always care about you. Like this or otherwise. You could stop this right now—or before it even began—and I wouldn't have stopped caring about you."
He smiled. "Oh, darling. I love the sentiment, but I'm not done with you yet."
Astarion kissed down your body and laid between your legs again. He licked another stripe up your cunt and you saw the coating of blood on his tongue before he swallowed. "Shall we try for a fourth? Or perhaps even a fifth?" He raised his brow, leaving the decision up to you.
You laid back. "We'll try for as many as you'd like," you said.
He bared his teeth in a feral grin. "All night it is!"
~❊~
You woke up the next morning sore and alone and with very little sleep.
Astarion had been relentless and stopped only when you simply couldn't take it anymore and he was practically drunk on your blood—all without making you bloodless and woozy. When you had finished for the final time, he had cleaned you up, helped you back into your clothes, picked up his own shirt, and walked you back to camp. He was so gentle that you didn't even mind the teasing about how you limped.
Dawn hadn't been far off as you each went back to your tents after exchanging a final, solid kiss. So you woke to the sound of everyone else beginning their day just a few hours later.
You felt the soreness in your core before you even moved. Biting back a sigh and not regretting it one bit as you pictured Astarion's happy, bloody face, you rolled over and hoped your recent injury would be enough for the others to let you sleep in.
You were wrong.
Shadowheart opened your tent a few minutes later with a urgency that made you jump.
"What? What's wrong?" you asked, blinking blearily in the bright sunlight.
"Are you alright? You never sleep in, you're always up making breakfast!"
You groaned. "Is that it? Are you just hungry?"
She peered at you. "Are you hurt? Did your wound reopen?"
"What? No! I'm fine, I'm just tired, that's all! I have lost a lot of blood recently, in case you forgot."
She sighed. "Oh. Alright. Well, just know the others are worried, too—Astarion especially."
You remembered how he'd checked in on you last night and had asked if he'd hurt you at all when you'd returned to camp and wondered if you had worried him by sleeping in. Suddenly you were grateful the others could chalk it up to his not-so-secret crush on you.
You dressed and hid the light bruises on your neck and collarbones in a high-collared shirt. You only noticed you were walking with a slight limp still after you'd left your tent and made your way across camp.
Karlach called your name and was at your side immediately. "You're limping! Are you hurt? Do you need me to fetch Shadowheart?"
You blinked at her. "What? No. I'm fine!"
"You don't look fine," Gale said, a few feet away, looking up from the book he'd been engrossed in for days. "Did you hurt your leg the other day? Or have your stitches ripped?"
"My, my," said a suave voice behind you. You turned and found Astarion grinning like a cat. "You do have quite the limp, there, darling. Are you sure you're alright?"
You huffed at him, your body remembering his touch immediately, his ghostly hands sliding across your skin. "I'm fine, I promise. Now hush and someone help me make breakfast."
Both Karlach and Astarion sat with you, Astarion very close to you and giving you a smile you couldn't help but return. Karlach stared at Astarion like he'd grown two heads, her gaze flickering between the two of you. She gasped very suddenly.
"Not a word," you hissed at her, knowing she'd figured it out.
Astarion smirked.
"And nothing from you, either," you added. "You're the reason I'm walking like this, you bastard."
He smiled sweetly at you, catching the fondness in the words. "And I gladly will be again." He took your hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing it. Your eyes grew wide.
Karlach squeaked.
"You know nothing," you told her. "At least for a little while."
"Yes," Astarion agreed. "At the very least, tell Shadowheart nothing—I broke my promise to her to keep our dear girl from doing any strenuous activity."
You turned red and Karlach groaned, "Not before breakfast, please!"
Astarion opened his mouth—undoubtedly to say something about how you were technically his breakfast, based on the hour you'd returned to camp—but you moved quicker than he could speak. You grabbed him by the collar and yanked him toward you, kissing him heartily to shut him up.
A heavy silence settled over camp. You cracked one eye open and found the rest of your companions staring at the pair of you, mouths agape and eyes wide.
"Oops," Astarion muttered, sounding rather pleased.
You cleared your throat. "I, ah, I've been meaning to tell you all. Honestly."
Gale heaved a sigh. "How much do I owe you, Wyll?"
Your jaw dropped open. "You placed bets?!"
"Alright, you bloodsucker," Wyll said, holding his hand out and waiting for his payment from Gale. "You win."
"Yes," Astarion said, and you expected him to be wearing a smirk infused with his charm, his triumphant eyes on the others. But when you turned to him, he was staring at you, a dopey smile fixed on his face. "Yes, I did."
☞ ❊ ☜
Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Acunin
part 2 (Sweet Like Wine) {here}!
Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!}
#astarion#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate 3#astarion bg3#astarion fic#astarion smut#neil newbon#d&d#dnd#astarion baldurs gate#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion romance#astarion my beloved#neil newbon astarion#astarion neil newbon#vampire#vampire dnd#dnd game#bg3 gale#karlach#shadowheart#laezel#bg3 wyll#bg3#bg3 astarion#astarion x you#astarion x y/n#astarion ancunin#case’s fic
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ugggh cockwarming halsin........ im going feral
(mdni!! cw: slight breeding kink, cockwarming, praise, size kink, fem!tav)
like the poor beast would be so pent up from his capture in the goblin camp, but he'd be so exhausted too! cooing about how brave you're being as you sink onto his fat cock, eyes clenched shut as he guides you with his large hands on your hips.
oh god the noises this man makes. you barely have his weeping tip in and he's cursing at silvanus for hiding a beauty like you from him for so long! its like you're made to take him, he reminds you as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.
"thats it, my heart.. oh- there you go." he groans as your cunt flutters around him, and his cock responds with a dull throbbing.
SO. MUCH. PRAISE. he doesn't even care if you can't return it while you're too focused taking him, he's just so absorbed in the feeling of you around him, muttering under his breath how much he adores you, comparing you to everything beautiful in nature.
"shhh. you're okay, love. i know- i know its big-" he grins, hes used to his size being off putting to others that when you squeal out in PLEASURE because of it? oh he just wants to stay buried inside you forever.
keeping you still by holding your hips as he settles you both into his bedroll, using you as a blanket while giving you his. he's more than warm enough, and he couldn't dream of being more comfortable! your cunt is squeezing him perfectly, he can pass out right then n there.
n ofc you wake up to a load (or two) of his thick, hot cum deep inside you, the little bit that leaked out around him pooling around the base of his cock.
#bg3 halsin#daddy halsin#halsin#halsin bg3#halsin silverbough#halsin x reader#halsin x tav#halsin smut
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politely requesting either halsin or astarion with a tav/reader who like..shrugs off their advances bc they don’t think someone like either of them would take interest in them. like very oblivious to the fact that people actually like them. (totally not self indulgent lmao) ((i love mutual pining to lovers i-))
CW: Mild sexual content, reader is injured
Astarion has started to question whether this is your way of gently rebuffing him, or you're actually this dense.
He's not a subtle flirt. He uses all his most seasoned tricks, exhausts every overture he can think of. He can't remember wanting anyone this much. And yet, every one of his suggestive quips is laughed off.
He's there in the morning, sliding in beside you as you drink your tea. "Good morning, beautiful. You're looking absolutely radiant today." He runs a finger down your arm. When you blush and smile back, something warms in the pit of his stomach.
He's there as you put on your armour. "Allow me, dove." And as he tightens the straps on your mantle, he lets his fingers brush the underside of your jaw. "There. Just right." He purrs into your ear.
And of course, when he feeds. He takes his time, pulling you close, cradling your head, running his fingers through your hair. He nuzzles into your neck before he bites, pressing his lips against your rabbiting pulse for just a moment longer than he should.
Even in battle, when he's swiftly at your back, flashing you brilliant smiles as he races to your defense, you jovially thank him, like you do all your companions. Like he's your friend. Just your friend.
All efforts so far, completely ignored.
So now he watches you from across camp, the firelight dancing across your features as you laugh (he tries to ignore the tender stirring in his chest at the sound).
He throws back his glass of wine, and grimaces at the pitying glances of his compatriots. Of course it was obvious to anyone except you.
You stood, bid Wyll and Karlach goodnight, but instead of disappearing into your tent, you vanished into the brush.
Astarion sat for a long moment. He should let you go. You clearly weren't interested, and he should just... move on. Like he always had.
Who are you kidding, you fool?
He didn't care that he startled Gale with his speed and he pursued you into the woods.
You were seated on a rock, your face turned up toward a shaft of moonlight, eyes closed. He stopped to admire you.
"Sorry I took off. I just wanted to enjoy the quiet."
"I'll go, if you want me to."
You start, and turn towards his voice. "Astarion, didn't expect you."
"Were you expecting someone?"
"No... just-
He's suddenly surging forward without thought, and the two of you are rolling across the grass.
"Astarion, what the fu-"
He silences you with a burning kiss, brimming with anger and desperation. You roll him onto his back, furiously returning his advance. "What-" you pant between kisses. "-took you so long, idiot."
He's furiously tugging at your linen shirt, baring your back and shoulders. You'd be angry if you weren't still reeling.
"You never flirted back!" He pins you down, only to find his hips locked between your legs.
"I flirt constantly, Astarion! You drink my blood every night! I've been waiting for you to take the next step for weeks!" Now it's you tearing at his shirt, your hands groping for purchase on his shoulders. "I thought you didn't think of me like that." Now it's your lips against his neck, and he chokes on a moan.
"That's not flirting!" He's never been this heated during sex. He's a collected lover, and for all the inherent violence of his existence, he realizes - he wants to be gentle. At least this time.
He takes your hands in his and stills your thrashing. You lock eyes, both of you out of breath, chests heaving. He places a single, gentle kiss to the palm of your hand. "Shall we begin again, love?"
"I'd like that."
"My name's Astarion. You are a truly stunning creature," he leans down, and whispers to you, "... and I'd very much like to make love to you tonight."
Halsin thinks you are quite possibly the most extraordinary person he's ever met.
He can't erase the image of you the first time he saw you from his mind, eyes ablaze, arcane power crackling at your fingertips.
He's had so many partners, but all of his love affairs were brief, transient. Deep, but nothing had ever moved him like this. Typically, Halsin is straightforward with his feelings. His passing dalliances with fellow druids and traveling rangers had never daunted him. But with you, making his feelings known was... complicated.
You'd been through a significant trauma, and while you put on a quite the brave face, ever the intrepid leader, he's been around long enough to see your fragility. You'd seen so many horrors in such a short amount of time. Emotions were running high, he wouldn't risk coming on too strong.
So instead... he brought you gifts. It was a very natural way to court someone, at least. Baskets of berries, a fresh catch from the river, perhaps they're gifts to his own taste, but he hopes you'll enjoy them.
He offered to braid your hair, to help ease the tension in your shoulders with a massage in the evenings (his hands are absolutely enormous, which certainly helps).
And, unbeknownst to the rest of the camp, and to his mild shame, he couldn't help but rub his scent near your tent. He wouldn't invade your boundaries and touch your things, but he couldn't help his instincts. Lae'zel noticed at last, but only scoffed and offhandedly remarked, "The way you dance around your affections is pathetic. Tell them, or stop simpering."
Things eventually came to a head when you were injured, badly. The arrow tore through your side, and you hit the ground before you could register you'd been shot, the world became pain and a blur of color and noise.
Halsin was by your side in a heartbeat, shielding you with his frame as spells and arrows flew overhead.
"Don't move little one, you're losing blood." He sounded calm, but there was a tremor in his voice. You'd never seen him afraid before.
"Halsin..."
"Shh, shh. Hold still." His magic flows through you, and the muscles in your side knit back together as he pulls the arrow free.
"Halsin." Your hand lifted to weakly brush his cheek. Your vision was swimming.
The thunderous roar of battle magic echoed nearby. Gale rushed towards you. "Are they alright?"
"They will be." Halsin spoke it like an oath. "But they're weak."
"We'll finish this, get them to safety!"
Halsin cradled your body to his chest and barreled off the battlefield. You drifted in and out of consciousness, but were always aware of his arms around you. They felt like safety. Like home.
The druid ducks behind a half destroyed wall, and begins to reassess your wound. "Gods, you frightened me." He lays you down carefully, head in his lap, and begins to clean the wound.
You smile up at him. "Thank you."
"No need to thank me."
"I like this."
He's puzzled. "Being horribly injured?"
"Being held by you."
At that moment, your body finally gave out, and your vision went black.
When you woke, bandaged and sore, in your tent, Halsin was sitting by your bedroll with his back to you. Recalling in horror the confession you'd made, you try to pretend you were still asleep.
"I know you're awake, little one."
You sigh. "I'm... about what I said, I'm sorry. I know you don't feel that way, and-"
"Stop." He turned and placed a finger against your lips. "No more words."
You braced for his rejection. At least the druid was kind, empathetic. Or perhaps his pity would make it worse.
His lips coming down on yours were not what you expected. He was gentle, and smelled of moss and pretrichor, dark soil and sweat. You kissed him back, laughing into his mouth.
He pulls away, then presses his forehead to yours. "I'm here. As long as you'll have me."
"Oh, I intend to." Your attempt to sit up is hampered by a shock of pain from your wound. "Ow. Shit."
Halsin guides you back down to your pillows. "All in good time, little one."
#baldurs gate 3#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#halsin x tav#halsin x reader#astarion#halsin#mutual pining
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Unfamiliar Waters
Pairing: Tav X Astarion, Reader X Astarion. Gender neutral. Content: Bathing, kissing, hair washing, fluff, comfort, slight conflict that gets resolved immediately, no sex, minor mention of torture. 1500 Words. Summary: You were in dire need of a bath after a harrowing fight outside the inn you were staying at. Unfortunately you find the tub already occupied by Astarion. In an attempt to bond with and get him out of there, you offer to wash his hair. Another short Astarion fic I started a while ago. Wanted to do something fluffy and intimate without any sex. Thanks again to Suri for edits and help with lines and the title!
You flung open the wooden doors, uncaring as wood chipped against lavender painted walls. Just as you were halfway through discarding your shirt, an indignant cry caught you off guard.
“What in the sweet hells, do you mind?!” The towel and toiletries fell from your hands. You’d never been very perceptive and today was no exception. Already fully submerged in the tub was Astarion; chest bare slumped over the side, a dripping copy of the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette in hand.
“Astarion?! I haven’t seen you in hours, is this where you’ve been?” You spluttered. “We really could have used your help. There was a fight right outside the inn. There’s absolutely no way you didn’t hear the commotion.”
“Some of us take pride in our appearances and besides, I needed time away from that festering group of ingrates.” As if to emphasise his point he shuddered. “You know, you could all learn a lot from me, starting with regular bathing.”
“And how exactly are any of us meant to bathe when you’re in the bathroom four hours every day?”
“Oh I don’t know, Baldur’s Gate has plenty of scenic rivers and lakes. I’m sure the bear has no problem leading each of you to nature’s finest bathhouse.”
You rubbed your temples with a freehand. As much as you loved this man, he could really start to grate on your nerves after a while. You scooped up your belongings and made your way over to him, arranging your towel neatly on the floor beside you.
He looked up from the paper disinterestedly. “As much as I love your company, dear, I hope you’re not planning on joining me. I hardly think this,” he gestured disapprovingly at the tub, “can fit us both.”
“Astarion, if there’s anything I can do to cut this exceedingly long bath short, I would be more than happy to assist.”
His eyes widened momentarily. How stupid of you, you hadn’t considered the implications of what you’d said.
“No, no, that's quite alright. I’ve still got my hair to wash and that’ll take at least another half an hour.”
Perching yourself on the edge of the tub beside him, you began rolling up your sleeves.
“Then allow me.” You smirked.
He flung the sodden paper to the floor and stared at you dumbfounded. “You mean you- wash my hair. I’m sitting here naked, dripping and gorgeous and all you want to do is ‘wash my hair’?”
“Couples do things for each other. Things outside of sex and combat, I might add,” you sniped back. Using your fingers, you began combing through his dampened locks.
“Without the sex, I suppose that leaves only the one thing we do together then.”
“That’s true.” His body tensed. “No, no wait- '' Flustered, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed your forehead against the back of his head. A feeble gesture, intended to soothe him and buy you enough time to explain.
“Just kidding,” you could hear the smirk in his voice, but you knew it wasn’t genuine.
“I like doing other things with you,” you mumbled into his curls. “I don’t care about the sex.” You relaxed your hold, allowing him to turn around to face you. Delicately, you reached out and wiped a stray piece of hair from his forehead. As you did so, his unnaturally pale cheeks took on a darker hue, perhaps from the heat or from your touch, you weren’t sure.
He cleared his throat and turned away again. “I see then. Well, this is as good a time as any to try something new.”
“Really?!” your head perked up. “I’m so excited, haven’t washed anyone else's hair since I left home.” You began swirling a hand in the tepid water, carefully choosing a spot faraway from where Astarion sat. “Did you and your siblings ever do this for each other? Like my family did,” you asked without thinking.
He shot you an incredulous glare, which soon contorted into sarcastic glee. “Oh, of course we did! And then in between our torture sessions we’d paint each others’ nails! What good fun it was.” His smile dropped and he fell backwards into the bath, splashing you in the process.
You scratched the back of your head. “Sorry I-”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Leave it, my love. No use dwelling on all that now.” You nodded your head in agreement, not that he could see you. “Come now, we don’t have all day.”
You hummed in agreement, looking over the various bottles that sat on a shelf beside the bath. Astarion was a very particular man and you didn’t wish to upset him by, god’s forbid, using the wrong fragrance. You gestured towards the selection of shampoo. “What’s your poison?”
“Hmm, I think today I‘m in the mood for jasmine- no wait- night orchid and ginseng- actually, that honey shampoo sounds positively delicious.”
“Might net you some unwanted attention from our camp bear,” you joked, hands sifting through the knots in his hair.
“Fair point. Alright then, I think I’d like to try that raspberry one, the one you got from that dear little market stall.”
The same one you liked to use.
With a gentle firmness you cupped the sides of his head. You hoped it was enough to stop him from turning around and seeing the pure glee etched onto your face.
“Alright, I need to get it wet, lean back,” you instructed, as you scooped up a handful of water.
He did as he was told and reclined backwards, eyes closed and squinted, anticipating the stream of water. Doing this for your brothers and sisters had been easy. Hells, you could get away with lobbing them in the river and they’d be just fine. Astarion, on the other hand, required a more delicate touch (even if he’d never admit to it) and you were more than happy to cater towards him.
With slow precision you poured the cooling water over his scalp, immediately pushing back any stray drops that threatened to drip down into his eyes.
Gods, how was it possible for such a man to be so beautiful and how was it that such a man had chosen you as his partner? Your hands stopped and your gaze lingered, as you took in his picturesque features.
An eyelash heavy with steam peeled open, giving you an inquisitive look.
“Enjoying the show, darling?” A thick, humid heat bloomed across your cheeks. “By all means, keep admiring me.”
“Shut up and close your eyes!” You grabbed the bottle from the side and began lathering it in your hands. The familiar fragrance filled your nostrils and despite having grown accustomed to having it as your own scent, you were looking forward to how it smelt on him.
You rubbed the foam through your fingers, fully enveloping his hair in a thick mousse. As your nails dragged across his scalp you heard him moan.
“That feels positively wonderful.”
“Oh yeah, like this?” you asked, repeating the same motions as before. He mmm-ed softly, sinking further into your hold. You paused for a second, this might be the most satisfied sound you’d ever heard coming from his lips, not a bad thing of course, given his past experiences.
His eyes were open again, staring up at you, face awash with bliss.
“Itching for a taste are we?” he goaded lightly.
There was no use dignifying that with a response. You brought your lips down upon his, his head still clasped in your hands. It was brief and sweet, reminiscent of those first kisses you’d once shared with young lovers. Unthinkable that such innocent yearning could be reclaimed so late in life.
Reluctantly you broke the kiss and pulled away.
“I do rather like that, you know…”
“I know and so do I.” You beamed. “Okay now can you please hurry up so I can have a bath,” you pleaded, peppering his mouth with more kisses.
“Always so demanding,” came his curt reply (the audacity). Nonetheless, he complied and finished up.
A deep sigh of relief escaped your lips after finally lowering yourself into freshly ran water. About halfway through wetting your hair, a freezing pair of hands on your shoulders caught you off guard.
“Astarion!” you shrieked. The little rogue had snuck up behind you.
“Oh, do be quiet, and don’t splash me. Wouldn’t do to get me wet again.” You watched as he rifled through the shampoo bottles disapprovingly. “We must go to the market together again soon, darling, just the two of us. I know just the product that’s perfect for your hair type, might do something about that helmet musk too.”
You opted to ignore that last dig, instead choosing to relish in the satisfaction of a warm bath and your lover threading his fingers through your hair. “I’d like that,” you hummed happily.
A contented silence descended over the room. You felt at peace and when you saw him hovering above you with that serene grin on his face, you knew he felt the same.
#astarion#astarion ancunin#tav x astarion#astarion x tav#reader x astarion#astarion x reader#bg3#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate#my fic#bg3 fic#fanfic#vampire
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Astarion definitely gains a bit of weight when he meets Tav, and he's so proud of it.
He's still lean, but he has a lot more meat on his bones than he did before since Cazador would keep him bordering on starvation to keep him from becoming too powerful. Being with Tav lets him feed on a regular basis, not just from them, but also in battle. He never goes to bed hungry anymore, even if you have the woozy feeling of being bloodless each morning. He doesn't worry about this much in the beginning, but once he becomes more attached to you, he does start to feel a bit---off, to say the least.
"Perhaps I shouldn't drink from you today, darling. You looked tired this morning."
You blink at his words. "I'm okay, though. I was just dizzy for half an hour."
"Precisely. We face a constant threat of death every day," his shoulders sink. "I'd rather my hunger not be the reason you're not at your best and cost you an injury. Even worse, your life."
"Since when do you care about that?"
He doesn't know. He doesn't know when he started to rely on your presence each night, or when his eyes naturally drew to you even amidst a battlefield, but it's too late to ponder on that now. He's not sure what you are to him, but he knows you can't die. Not as long as he remains on the face of Faerun.
"Since today."
It's been weeks, actually, but he doesn't mention that.
You eye him inquisitively before shaking your head. "You don't have to worry about things like that."
"But--"
"Drinking my blood also makes you more powerful, no? If you didn't have me to drink from, you're also more likely to get hurt," you reply, baring your neck. "It goes both ways."
"I'm immortal, if I'm careful-"
You hush him. He doesn't need to say it out loud for you to understand what he's saying. "I want to keep you safe too."
With a hesitant pause, Astarion finds himself offering you a grin that's a tad less perfect than it usually is. You offer him one back, and he lowers his lips to your neck, gently placing his hands around his waist and mouthing the skin on your throat. He hopes it soothes the pain, if anything.
He decides then that he'll use the strength you give him to repay you for the kindness he most certainly does not deserve.
#astarion ancunin#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate astarion#astarion x tav#bg3 astarion#astarion x reader#astarion#feyascorner#bg3 x reader#astarion x oc
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Need
Summary: Astarion is desperate and needy, Tav takes care of him
Pairing: Astarion x Tav (gn!reader)
Warnings: nsfw, subby! Top Astarion, nipple play (male receiving), begging, praise, cream pie (so breeding if you squint)
Word count: 800
A/N: If this is in anyway awful, I blame it on the wine I drank while writing it.
It only really occurred when he was stressed, whether it be about the tadpoles, or Cazador, didn’t matter. He never explicitly verbalized it, but you had your suspicions that it came from the need to feel taken care of whilst still having some semblance of control in the matter. So after a long and arduous day of following dead end leads, that were supposed to be the answer towards everyone’s parasite, Astarion seeks out relief in the way that he’s rediscovering for himself. Which has led the two of you to seek each other’s comfort in the reprieve of his tent.
Your hands brush up his sides, pushing his ruffled shirt up and over his head, fingertips trailing back down his rib cage, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he discards it to the side. Astarion leans forward, guiding you to lay down on his bedroll, barely breaking the kiss that he had initiated. He needs this, his body craves it. To feel taken care of. To feel mindless, free to not think about the stress that paints each passing day of their lives as of late.
He sighs into your mouth, tongue curling around yours, wet and desperately searching. Searching for the heavenly distraction that is needing you. There’s the momentary press of his knee forwards, making space for him to kneel between your awaiting thighs. Your fingers delicately trail back up his sides before venturing across his chest, gently brushing against his nipples which earns a whine from the back of his throat and a cant of his hips against your own.
“You like that, huh?” you murmur against his plush, kiss-swollen lips.
He nods fervently, eyes fluttering shut as you continue to toy with him, gently pinching the buds between thumb and forefinger.
“Use your words, Star.” It’s no secret that this turns Astarion into a puddle before you even think about touching him anywhere else, and it nearly makes his heart beat again when you actively keep him present in the moment. That you make sure he voices what he wants in all of this.
He swallows, words barely making it past his lips before he moans, “Mmhm. Yes, I like it.” His brain is mush already, overwhelmed by your hands touching him so gently, and his painfully hard cock pressing against the confines of his trousers. You realize that the usually boisterous elf seems almost… shy. His cheeks and the tips of his ears ruddy with the blood he supped on earlier from you.
He drops his face to the crook of your neck, soft kisses press to your skin, just below the clotted punctures and faint bruise that he left earlier. He quietly huffs against your neck, mindlessly rutting his hips against the apex of your thighs.
“Tell me what it is that you want, my love.” Your voice croons against the shell of his flushed ear, fingers running through his soft curls.
”Please- need to be inside you.” He thrusts forwards, mindlessly seeking pressure against his arousal. Gods is he desperate, his voice on the verge of whiny.
“Take what you need.”
In an almost frantic state, Astarion strips the rest of your clothing off before discarding his trousers and undergarments. The moment his cock nudges against your entrance, he’s biting his bottom lip, stifling the sounds threatening to spill past his lips. He leans forward, wrapping his arms around you, face against the juncture of your shoulder and neck as he breaches your entrance, a soft sigh meeting your flesh. He almost loses himself, completely overwhelmed by finally filling you. Your very essence completely envelopes him, legs wrapping around his waist, one arm around his shoulders, and the other hand gently holding his head close.
Always making sure he knows, ”You’re so good to me Star.”
He whimpers, hips picking up and thrusting into you. One of his hands moves to grip one of your thighs, pushing it towards your chest to get impossibly deeper. All he feels is you, and all he wants is for you to only feel him too.
“Please- please let me come.” He pants, “Wanna fill you so bad.”
“Come for me, love.” You press a kiss against his temple.
A string of soft moans and whines leave him, and his flushed ears twitch as he empties himself deep inside, hips pressing tightly against yours so he reaches as deep as possible.
As he comes down from his high, he pulls out and rolls to the side, laying his head against your chest, “You didn’t come.” He states.
”Tonight was about you.” You tell him, fingers mindlessly dancing across his shoulders, soothing him further. All he deserved was to be taken care of
#baldur's gate 3#astarion ancunin#astarion x tav#bg3#astarion#bg3 astarion#astarion x reader#astarion fluff#astarion smut#astarion x tav smut#baldurs gate astarion#astarion x reader smut#astarion bg3#baldurs gate 3#bg3 tav
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In Need of a Healer (+18)
Pairing: Halsin x Female Tav
WC: 2200
Summary: You accidentally mix up your mushrooms when trying to make a potion and it goes horribly wrong. Or... not so horribly, in the grand scheme of things?
Content Warnings: SMUT! Huuuge breeding kink, aphrodisiac situation, no bear :( big dick Halsin, unprotected sex, a smidge of dirty talk, maybe a little pregnancy kink Halsin at the end but who knows hes 400 years old, creampies.
— —
Halsin sat under the pallid moonlight, back against the outside of his tent, humming contentedly as he whittled yet another small duck. A little smile decorated his chiseled face as he marveled at the way his craft looked in the pale starlight. The only thing he could hear was his own humming, the soft scrape of his knife against the wooden duck, and the soft chirping of crickets in the tall grass surrounding the camp.
The peaceful sounds of a night at camp were eventually broken by hurried footsteps heading quickly towards his tent.
Tav rounded the large tree that Halsin had set up his tent next to and was breathing heavily. She quickly came to a stop and let out a long sigh.
“Oh, thank the gods you’re still up!”
“Ah, Tav. A pleasure to see you on this beautiful night. How are you?” He looked up at her panting form and smiled. She seemed distraught and uncomfortable.
“Been better actually.. but, um, how are.. you?” She asks, trying desperately to be polite but Halsin could tell there was something wrong. “I like your duck. Is that a new one?” Tav says between heavy breaths, like she had just run several miles.
“Yes, it’s a canvasback duck. Very interesting species as it lives in both fresh and salt waters.” Halsin explains as he holds up his whittled figuring.
“Right yes. Very cool.” Tav hurriedly spits out.
“I can tell you aren’t here to discuss my hobbies, Tav. You seem… a bit perturbed. Anything I can help with?” Halsin asks.
“Gods, yes. Or at least I hope… Can we talk… inside your tent?” Tav says as she turns her head around briefly, looking at the last light of the fire and wondering if anyone else was still up and about. “It’s… kind of embarrassing…”
“Of course.” Halsin rises to his feet to hold the curtain of his tent open for her to enter ahead of him. She quickly ducks inside.
Halsin gestures for her to sit on his makeshift mattress as he sits down on the stool at his desk littered with herbs and potions.
“What’s ailing you? Your face seems flushed. Do you feel feverish at all?” Halsin says as he gets a better look at Tav, seated on his bedroll with their legs crossed, illuminated by the candlelight.
Tav sighs. She looks down at her hands in her lap and wrings them uncomfortably.
“Yes! I’m so warm!” Tav exclaims. “Okay so… I wanted to convince these squirrels to put on these little hats and ride on Scratch like a pony because I thought it would be cute, but I realized I was out of animal speech potions and I was trying to whip one up but I realized I used the wrong herb…. But Astarion said it would be fine! He gave the mushrooms to me after all!”
Halsin chuckled.
“A noble endeavor indeed. I would like to have seen that.”
“And so the elixir looked fine, but I drank it and now I… I don’t feel so good…” Tav says quietly, but Halsin could hear the fear and worry in her voice.
“Hmm… I see. Other than the flush and fever, do you have any other symptoms?” The druid asks, looking her over.
“Well my skin, it has chicken-skin all over that won’t go away… and I can’t stop sweating… and well… there’s this painful ache…” She trails off. “Can I just show you?”
“Please do.” Halsin nods.
Without warning, Tav strips her clothes off leaving her just in her underthings. She settles back on the bedroll and spreads her legs shyly. Once her knees were parted, it was very obvious to Halsin what the ache she was describing was. The gusset of her cloth panties showed a drenched patch covering her sex, the wet fabric sticking desperately to her meaty outer lips.
“Aahh…” Halsin mused as he looked over Tav’s trembling body. “My assumptions were correct, it seems.”
“Your assumptions? And what were those, exactly? Speak plainly, will I survive?” Tav sits up on her elbows and presses her knees together again.
“You must have used black mushrooms instead of acorn truffles. Similar in appearance, but very different in alchemical composition.” Halsin states as he flips through one of the books littering his desk. “I smelled your pheromones before you even appeared in front of my tent. Instead of the potion of animal speaking, you drank a potion of animal breeding.”
“I bed your finest pardon? Shit, I mean beg! I beg your finest pardon?!” Tav becomes increasingly irritated and frustrated by the druid’s casual manner of speaking.
“Yes, commonly used by ranch hands in order to increase the offspring output of their flocks, it drastically increases the heat cycle in mammals. I’ve never seen or heard of the effects of it on humans, but it seems it works the same.” Halsin replies, standing from the stool at his desk and approaching his bedroll where Tav laid.
“So? Is there a cure, an antidote of some kind?” Tav pants.
“Not that I know of. I know the effects subside once the animal has been mated, but I can’t say for certain how to dissolve the effects in a humanoid creature.”
Tav groans and reaches her hand between her clenched thighs, clearly too far gone from the effects of the potion to care about modesty. Halsin sees her wrist flick desperately, but there was no relief on her face… he can’t help but find himself growing erect at the sight of her barely covered, sweaty body writhing in his bed.
“You’re in pain… there might be a way I can help…” Halsin says softly, his eyes searching Tav’s pleading ones.
“Anything. Help me, please.” Tav huffs out through gritted teeth.
“I can… try to alleviate the pain through the intended means… If you’ll allow it.” Halsin’s eyes dart from Tav’s gaze to her hard nipples peaking through her bra and back to her face again.
“You mean.. you’d fuck me? You think it would work?”
“I can’t guarantee it, but I’m happy to give it a try.” Halsin replies with a soft smile.
Tav thinks for a moment before sitting up fully and ripping her bra over her head and tossing it to the floor of Halsin’s tent.
“Gods yes, I’ll do anything.” Tav shimmies her panties down her legs and throws them to join her discarded bra. “Do you need me to, you know… touch you a bit? To get things going?” She says sheepishly.
“Hah, no..” Halsin chuckles. “Seeing you in my bed like this has made me harder than I’m keen to admit. Let me just…”
Halsin takes a few moments to remove all his clothing. Once he was stripped bare, thick cock standing at attention, he turned back towards Tav and was met with quite the sight.
Tav had shifted to her knees, face pressed into Halsin’s pillow with her ass arched high in the air in Halsin’s direction. He was met with her puffy, glistening folds being presented so desperately just for him. Slick drooled out like sap from a mighty maple tree, slowly seeping from Tav’s hole and coating her lips and thighs. He could see her engorged, pink clit peaking out from the apex of her slit, just aching to be touched.
“Oak Father preserve me…” He says quietly, more to himself than anyone else. “What an incredible sight…”
“Halsiiiinnnn…. Will you hurry uuuup?” Tav whined and wiggled her backside in the druid’s direction, beckoning him to enter her.
“Right, of course. You will tell me if there’s any discomfort, yes?” He asks.
“Yes fine yes, just fuck me.” Tav glares at him from her position pressed into the pillow.
“As you wish…” Halsin takes his position behind Tav and guides the leaking tip of his cock to her entrance. “Bit of a stretch now, love…” Halsin coos as he pushes his hips into hers.
“Aaaggh! Ah! Fuck!” Tav cries out and turns her head to bite down on his pillow.
Halsin feels a gush of warmth on his pelvis and notices the hard squeeze of Tav’s cunt as his tip presses against her cervix deep within her. She had climaxed just from him bottoming out inside her.
“Already?” Halsin chuckles again. “Do you feel better? Should I stop?” He runs a soothing hand down her spine.
“Aahh!” Tav moans and pushes back on her knees, forcing him impossibly deeper. “More! Need more!”
“The potion is stronger than I thought… very well… Hold on to something, dear.” Halsin warns as he wraps his large hands around Tav’s milky hips. He begins thrusting into her hard and with great purpose. Normally he would have to take time to prep his smaller partners, but the effects of the elixir had caused Tav’s body to accept his intrusion hungrily. “So warm… like nothing I’ve ever felt…” Halsin groans as he feels the impossible heat from Tav’s walls pulse around him sensually.
“Harder! More!” Tav grits out, brow furrowed, fists clenched in Halsin’s sheets.
Halsin mounts her fully, hunching his back over her to press his chest against her spine. His grip on her hips tightens as he humps into her harder.
“Yes! Fuck! I-I’m cu-!“ Tav yelps out. “Ah!”
Halsin feels her cunt clench on him hard again, the familiar spray of liquid a welcome feeling trickling down his thick thighs. After two orgasms, Halsin assumed she would finally be free of the potion’s effects. He pulls out of her and picks her shaking body up and positions her back down on his bed on her back.
“Better now?” He smiles down at her.
He was met with an even deeper look of desperation.
“No. Need more!” Tav gasps out as she locks her arms behind his back. Without warning, Halsin was tossed on his back on the bed and Tav was hovering above him. She grips his dripping cock and lines it up to her sex, sinking down on it quickly.
“Shiiiit yes…” Tav moans out and throws her head back in pleasure. She begins rocking hard against him, grinding her clit against his pelvis to stimulate all her senses. “Fuuuuck…”
“My darling…” Halsin says hesitantly as he places his gentle hands on her breasts, softly toying with her nipples. “Don’t hurt yourself…”
“Fill me, Halsin, please!” She cries out loudly. “Breed me, Halsin. I need it!” She slams her hips down onto his impossibly fast.
An animalistic, bear-like growl leaves Halsin’s lips.
“You can’t say things like that, little dove.” He grits his teeth, trying to hold back from absolutely ravishing her body.
“But please! I want you to fill me, need you to fill me! Put your fucking babies into me, Halsin, please!” Tav looks down finally and makes eye contact with the large elf. There was a wild, fiery heat glowing in her eyes. Who was he to deny her?
Halsin plants his feet on his bedroll and growls louder, his large hands moving to her waist.
"Halsin, Halsin, Halsin!" Tav spills his name like an invocation as she bounces violently on his cock. "Breed me, please, Halsin!"
He uses this newfound leverage to slam his hips up into hers at a brutal pace, lost in the fantasy of filling her up with his seed. How gorgeous she would look swollen and heavy with his young… breasts plump with sweet milk...
“Yes! Yes!” Tav chants towards the sky as a cock-drunk grin spreads across her face.
“I’ll give you what you need, love… stay still now… shit…” Halsin’s grip on Tav was sure to leave bruises in the morning. Tav was moaning loudly, clearly too far gone in her state to care about anyone else in camp hearing her. “I’m going to fill you now, be good and take it…” He grits out the last bit.
Tav shrieks as she feels the first wave of hot spend fill her insides. Rope after rope of Halsin’s seed stuffed her to the brim, the druid grunting and panting beneath her, pushing her hips down on his so his tip kissed her cervix directly.
Halsin breathes heavily as his orgasm abates and leaves Tav finally satisfied.
“Woah…” Tav dizzily leans forward and collapses against Halsin’s broad chest.
The pair laid in silence for several minutes catching their breaths.
“Here, I’m going to lay you down now. I’ll make you some tea.” Halsin says as he lifts Tav off his softening cock and tucks her into his comforter. “Make sure you drink it before tomorrow.”
“Mhmmmmph.” Tav snuggles tiredly into his mussed sheets, the effects of the potion finally dissipating now that she was stuffed full like a broodmare. She looked too serene in his bed, he couldn’t care less about the large mess she was no doubt leaking onto his mattress.
So what if she didn’t drink the tea tonight… maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea…
Halsin would have to thank Astarion tomorrow.
#baldurs gate smut#baldurs gate 3#baldurs gate fanfiction#baldurs gate tav#baldurs gate fanart#bg3 fanart#bg3 tav#tav#halsin#halsin x tav#halsin x reader#halsin x oc#halsin smut#bg3 fanfiction#bg3#bg3 halsin
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Slow Down
Premise: Astarion discovers that disgustingly quick efficiency at sex, isn't always how everyone wants to enjoy it.
• Astarion x gn!Tav • M rating •
Astarion POV, gn!Tav, doggy, riding, slowing down, enjoyment, bloodplay/bloodlust, feral need, no mention of specific gentials.
2.7k words
Another blinder by @casualya 😙👌 you bless us daily with scrumptious pictures!
•°•°•
Astarion pumelled inside Tav, relentless and frenetic. The energetic pace and precise angle perfected over 200 years. A hand pressed down on the small of their back, the other pulling back on their hip.
This was his favourite position. Turned away; it was easier when they were turned away.
No eye contact. Less need for his practiced veneer. He could just 'get on with it' and be done quickly.
He could also pretend to 'clean himself off' while they were recovering from the earth shattering orgasm he'd just gave them. Keep up the charade till the end.
Their moans were rough, throaty and tense.
"You feel so good, darling." He parroted his old lines, "I want to come darling but I want you to come with me. Are you close for me?"
"Mm, not really." Tav admitted, an awkward tenseness in their voice. Astarion's thrust stuttered slightly, but continued.
He was ever a professional.
He blinked several times, furrowing his brow, "Do we need to change positions, love? I need to feel you come on my cock." He moaned through a bitten lip, slowing his pace.
Tav gave a pleasurable gasp, "Yes, please. It feels good, it's just-I find it difficult to come like this."
Astarion rolled his eyes behind their back, "Then we have to remedy that. Tonight is for out collective ecstasy, remember?" He crooned, gently extracting himself from inside them.
Irritated, Astarion pasted on his flawless veneer and recused himself from the situation, while his body piloted automatically.
Dissociating for him was like meditation, there were no thoughts. Nothingness. A great expanse of blackness and there he cocooned himself. Safe and removed inside.
His body had learned to respond to the stimuli around him, without needing him to be present.
Of course, some part of him was still present but not any part that mattered. No part that he hadn't painfully trained himself to repress and ignore.
There he waited for it to be over, in his safe pocket of void. Soundless. Wordless. Guiltless.
Of course this time would be different to his usual seductions. He would have to keep up a constant charade.
At the Palace, after the act, the unlucky target would be taken away; to what they expected to be a bath, that would never come. However, if Cazador was feeling particularly cruel, he'd wrench them out, kicking and screaming before it was finished.
A foul part of him was grateful for it. That he didn't have to finish. That he didn't have to listen to their admissions of love, or satisfaction. Just their horrified screams, as a terrifying Vampire Lord threw them naked from the bed and dragged them behind him towards his study.
He would cower silently and stone-faced, as their blood-curdling howls would fade down the hallway, until the heavy doors shut. Even then his Vampiric hearing would pick up the sounds of panic and violence.
They'd beg him, plead with him, scream at him to help them, save them, intervene.. do something. But he never did. He never would. Never could. Not again.
Suddenly, an unexpected lurching motion tipped him over with a thud. Coming back to true consciousness, he blinked heavily as he realised he was splayed back on the forest floor.
Tav was holding his forearms over his head, "Told you I could." They smirked, slightly breathless.
"So you did. I'm impressed." Astarion replied, not missing a beat.
"I asked you to slow down, you didn't listen. So now, we're going to do this my way. So, you're going to lay back like a good pup and enjoy yourself. Got it?" There was assertiveness but amusement in their tone as they released his arms to reach between their bodies.
"I don't really think I have a choice." He tried to keep his voice steady but there was a wobble; he could hear it.
"Oh, don't worry your pretty little head, Astarion," he felt the tightness of their walls envelope him again, "Ahh.. it's our collective ecstasy, right?" They licked their bottom lip and placed their hands on his chest.
Astarion didn't answer. This was one of his least favourite positions.
He always felt exposed underneath someone face-to-face. Being giver, or receiver, it felt like he was close to scrutiny like this.
Still. In order to gain their trust further, and assure protection from Cazador - either by human shield, or sword - this was what he had to endure.
Tav began to rock on him, an easy, drawn out pace. Not at all like his urgent trists. He preferred a fast approach. To make them come as soon as possible. He had it down to a fine art but there were always outliers to any experiment.
Astarion grabbed their hips and tried to buck up but he was quickly thwarted.
"Uh-uh, not happening. We're going to slow down, and build this up nicely. Sex isn't about making people come quickly, it's about the journey together."
Tav placed their hands over Astarion's and slid them higher, to hold their waist. They rode him at what felt like a snail's pace, their hips fluidly rolling. Astarion resisted the urge to roll his eyes again.
They took him from tip, to bottomed out tortuously slowly. And while it did feel good, it wasn't going to end soon.
Astarion huffed out in frustration but disguised it with contentment and lust.
Dissociation was peering over his shoulder, inviting him to step away and let it take the reigns.
"Ah, darling. That feels wonderful. Riding me like that."
"Sweet one, this isn't riding. This is the introduction, the prologue, the handshake. I know you're used to it fast, but just bare with me. Just enjoy the sensation."
He squeezed their waist and sighed, "Alright, I'll bite. Well, again." He smirked with an eyebrow flex to himself.
"Mm, that did feel good. Bet it tasted better."
"It did," Astarion relented, "You are rather delicious."
"Better than the bear that got you drunk?"
"Yes, you taste far sweeter than a bear. Satisfied?" He teased, thrusting upwards to meet them. The corners of his vision began to settle and fuzz.
"Slowly." Tav breathed, using their hips to control his speed, "Tell me what I taste like."
His vision cleared and he blinked.
What a question.
One that pulled him back from the edge of nothingness, back to Tav's face above him.
What did they taste like?
It wasn't something he recognised. It wasn't a flavour, it was almost a feeling.
"You taste so sweet, darling. Like honeyed fruits." He placated, keening for good measure.
"The way you suck on my neck doesn't say that. What do I really taste like?"
His face twitched, "I don't know if I could put it into words." He lied, pinching his lips in frustration. At both the questions and the intrusion into his coping mechanism.
"Try."
He couldn't contain his eye roll this time but played off as teasing, "Um, you taste amazing. Like nothing I've ever tasted before."
Tav remained silent, still rocking themselves on his cock. Astarion felt compelled to continue.
"You taste like.. rich wine and sweet fruits.. like summer berries fresh from the bushel, like warm days by the riverside, like splashing in the cool water." He began, unsure where it would go.
Tav's pace increased slightly, harder pressure pushing him into the ground.
"Good man, that's better. What else do I taste like?" Their hands wandered his chest as they moved on him, languid strokes from root to tip.
Something akin to a shooting sensation buzzed from his pelvis. It was unfamiliar, but not unknown.
Enjoyment.
He allowed himself to indulge in their question, "You taste like sunshine and freedom, like the moment before lightning hits," jolts of electricity zappped to his tightening groin, "Your blood tastes like everything I miss from my mortal life, it's like the smell of warm rain quenching dry earth. The feeling of purest limitlessness."
The words left his mind and flew through his mouth before he had time to comprehend how foolish it sounded. But Gods, every word was true. Feeding freely on Thinking blood was a rush that had no competition. But feeding from Tav, was something else entirely.
Tav began bouncing, rippling their spine and hips to pound against him. Bringing a hand to play with themselves illiciting a soft whine.
They looked at him through a hot stare, pinning him to the floor, then looked down to their bodies. Astarion followed their gaze.
If he had breath to steal, it would have been willingly surrendered. Seeing their meeting, the sight of his pale cock, covered in slick, disappearing inside them. Their hand teasing their own release, the other pressed low against is abdomen.
Their soft flesh bounced against the momentum of their riding, he could feel the jiggle beneath his hands.
"When you feed on me it feels like dancing with adrenaline itself. My whole body feels alive but numb at the same time. I can feel you, can feel my blood pumping through your body. I can feel me within you, surrendering to you," Astarion's grip tightened, pressing bruises into their rolling hips.
"You could drain me dry, and leave me for dead and I'd still beg you for one more bite. To feel like that again. It's worth a little death." They smiled coyly down at him, tracing their fingertips against his lips, parting them to reveal his fangs.
Astarion about choked on his own saliva, through a wanton gasp.
A devilish glint sparked in their eye, as they tested the sharpness on the pad of their index finger. They gave a short gasp of pain as it punctured their skin.
Astarion's tongue instinctively flicked against the small rivulets of blood out of desperation. The taste of blood, combined with the pleasure of sex, unlocked some feral part of him that had been dormant for an age.
Groaning and baring his teeth, he slid a possessive hand up their sternum, and felt their heart hammering through their chest. He suckled on the tip of their finger as they rode him but it wasn't enough.
The thought of their hot, sweet, delicious blood pumping through their body. Blood that engorged their swollen sex. Blood that would sustain him, nourish him, make him feel happiness. A happiness he had barely been able to explain since their first feed.
Tav laid their other hand on top of his, "Can you feel how hard my heart's beating? How much I want this? How much I want you, Astarion?" They keened, as their eyes met in passionate gaze.
A noise that didn't quite come from the sane part of his mind erupted from his chest as he felt Tav squeeze his cock with their inner walls.
Astarion desperately gripped their hips and tried to wrap one arm around their body.
"More.. more." He moaned, roughly.
"Blood, or sex."
"Both." He spluttered, frantically clawing at them, sitting up to re-arrange the pose, "Both!"
"Yes, yes." They uttered, breathless.
Pressed body to body, buried deep inside, Astarion sank his fangs into the slope of their chest.
Hot, delicious blood spurted into his mouth, coating his tongue and throat, as he took long pulls and swallowed them down.
The sensation was overwhelming, their life force rushing around his undead body, their walls squeezed tightly around him. He could feel the ministrations of their hand stimulating their release between their slicked bodies.
Tav gasped and moaned against his ear, which they gently nipped and licked on.
Astarion's eyes rolled back into his head, as his jaw tightened, biting harder. He was paralyzed with an overabundance of pleasure, rendering him inert as Tav shot out a cry and continued bouncing down on his cock.
Their pace became erratic, breath hitching as they gasped against the cool night air. Rabid cries of ecstasy echoed through the night as Tav's orgasm hit them.
Small, tense noises roughly eeked from his throat, as a sudden tightening gripped what was left of his soul like a vice, before a violent torrent of orgasmic energy flooded through him. His head jerked back, blood dripping down his chin. Chest hollowing, his eyes found Tav's, connecting them in the moment at the centre of the storm.
The world stilled for the briefest of moments, filled with the warmth of their gaze.
A cry of rapture died in his crimson coated throat and he came inside them, painting their walls with his seed. Tav bottomed out as he filled them to the brim with his cum, rocking their hips against him, over and over, coaxing every last drop.
"Agh, stop please.. mercy." He whined, as his head hit their shoulder, wrung dry from overstimulation.
He still smelled their blood from where he'd not shown enough care, in his hedonistic state, to stem the flow. He thought to cover it with his hand, but Tav had beaten him to it, still holding him upright with the other.
They softly leaned forward to lay him back down on the bedroll, in which he thunked back, gracelessly.
Half-hard and still inside them, his head swimming with the afterglow of his unexpected orgasm, Astarion tried to descend back to Faerûn.
Tav's blood was pumping through his ears, the loud whooshing noise drowning out the insect nightlife that crowded this part of the woods.
A quick kiss touched the tip of his nose, then he felt Tav extracte themself off him and lay beside him. The cold night air now stark and unwelcome, when compared to their warmth.
"Now that was collective ecstasy." Tav said finally, with a wearied but playful lilt.
"Mhm." He replied, unable to apply his brain back into conversation. He heard them moving around to grab a cloth for their puncture marks and a little clean up.
Several moments passed him by, staring up into the darkened starlit sky. He felt he was still up there, in the Astral, after the viciousness of cumming that hard - and after so long.
A pair of soft lips traced over his shoulder, peppering the area with kisses, and for the first time in over two decades; he didn't feel the urge to flinch.
"Are you still with us, Astarion?"
He shook his head, "Unfortunately not."
"Oh, dear."
"I'm quite unavailable for conversation at this moment in time."
Tav giggled softly, "Was it the combination of feeding and ear fondling that tipped the scales for you there? I know you were rolling your eyes when I slowed the pace down. I'd heard ear stimulation was part of Elven foreplay, I thought it would add a little something for you." Tav discarded the bloodied cloth, to join the one stained with cum and rolled onto their side to face him.
"It did." He nodded, angling his face to them. He found his new marks on their skin, they were a lot more vicious than those he'd made on their neck, evidence of his animalistic need. "It's never quite felt like that." He admitted, feeling a little sheepish.
"I told you. It's the journey that gets you to the destination." Tav smiled down at him, leaning on one hand, the other resting on his chest.
"That you did." Astarion felt embarrassment creeping up the sides of his neck and flushing his cheeks, as he felt the true gravity of how low he'd left his defences.
"Astarion, are you blushing?" Tav tucked their chin in, shocked.
He turned the corners of his mouth down in disgust, "Of course not! Vampire's don't blush. We don't have any blood." He pointed out.
"Well, you do right now and that's definitely a rosy tinge in your cheeks." They teased, rubbing their nose against the aforementioned red cheeks.
Astarion flinched away, "Stop." He snapped, frowning.
Tav held up their palm, "Alright, I'm sorry. You're not blushing, it's just a trick of the light. Astarion, the Rakeish Vampire-Spawn, does not blush."
"Certainly not, perish the thought. You're delirious with the after effects. The lack of blood has gone to your head." He pouted vehemently, recoiling from the thought he'd actually enjoyed himself.
Enjoyed the sex he'd used them for, that it hadn't been anything more than what it needed to be; a tool in his arsenal of manipulations.
Blushing? He was blushing?! Gods below.
"And the missing blood has gone straight to yours." They teased.
Astarion glared at them but only half meant it. He was still too happy to be miserable. But he had no doubt that the ravages of self-loathing and despair wouldn't give him restbite for long. He may as well enjoy the feeling while it lasted.
"I can promise you, that blood is headed only one place and intends to make you scream like that at least another twice before morning. Especially now I know exactly how you like it," He moaned, pushing them over effortlessly, "This journey isn't over yet, darling."
•°•°•
#astarion#bg3 astarion#bg3 smut#astarion ancunin#astarion smut#astarion x tav#bg3#astarion x gn!tav#whiskeyskin masterlist#whiskeyskin
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Hi. So I loved the story you made about Tav revealing she's a virgin to Astarion. You said we could send prompts so when you're back I would love a story about Tav's first time with Astarion under the stars 🌟🥰.
Love your stories
Thank you 🙏🏾
Okay - Fine! I'll totally give ya a part 2 ;* ! A few people actually requested this so it's about time ;p Since this is a virgin Tav, I wanted to be extremely delicate and detailed with Astarion's actions, while also still being sexy. This is some slowburned passionate smut!!
Lets get into iitttt. Hope you enjoy reading anon!
˚ ° A purity like yours ° ˚ part 2
Lovely photo by @astarionposting
Astarion x fem Tav — Explicit 18+
T/W: Smut!, virginity
Summary: Astarion fulfills his promise to make Tav's first time a beautiful and memorable experience, something he believes she deserves. When he surprises her, things get heated and her first time becomes a memory that'll forever burn into her head.
Notes: This is a part 2 to this story. You don't have to read part 1 to enjoy or understand the storyline, but it just hits different for the ones who did :* <3
The air was filled with the sweet scent of wildflowers and the sound of crickets chirping. Astarion had been planning this surprise for weeks and now it was finally time to show Tav. He took her hand and led her through the dark forest, carefully avoiding any fallen branches or rocks.
Tav held onto his hand tightly, and the anticipation was welling up inside her. What was it? She had no idea where Astarion was taking her, but she trusted him completely.
Finally, they reached a clearing in the forest and Astarion stopped, turning to face Tav with a soft smile on his face. "Close your eyes," he whispered, "I have a surprise for you."
Tav did as she was told, her heart racing with excitement. She felt Astarion take her hand once again and lead her a few steps forward before coming to a stop.
Tav felt the warmth of his palms on her shoulders. Then, the pressure of his lips pressing against her neck, "Okay, open your eyes."
Tav slowly opened her eyes and gasped in awe at the sight before her. They were standing in a beautiful pasture, surrounded by tall grass and wildflowers. But what took her breath away was the night sky above them. It was filled with countless stars, twinkling in the darkness.
"Astarion..." Tav spoke under her breath, her eyes wide with wonder. "I had no idea..."
And somehow, the moonlight captured Astarion so perfectly under its shine. A small wind blew softly threw his white curls.
Astarion chuckled at her reaction and helped her lie down on the soft grass. "I knew you would love it," he said, lying down beside her.
Tav couldn't take her eyes off the stars, they seemed to go on forever. "I never knew the night sky could be so beautiful," she whispered.
Astarion turned to look at her, his eyes shining with adoration. "Just like you," he said, a hint of awe in his voice. "Your beauty is just as infinite as the stars above us." He shyly averted his eyes back onto the sky.
Tav's eyes welled up with tears and she turned to look at Astarion with a scrunched smile. "Thank you for showing me this,"
Astarion wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "I am just glad you like it, my dear," he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
Tav couldn't contain herself, wrapping her arms tightly around Astarion and bombarding his face with kisses. "You're the best," she said between giggles.
"And beautiful!" He exclaimed at her sarcastically, or did he really mean it?
Tav rolled her eyes and shook her head with a light heart.
They lay there for what felt like hours, just enjoying each other's company in comfortable silence. Tav could feel Astarion's steady breath against her cheek, and it calmed her nerves.
Without warning, Astarion's hand slipped down to rest on Tav's hip. She stiffened slightly, not expecting the sudden touch. But before she could react, Astarion's hand moved lower, cupping her ass.
Tav's eyes widened in surprise, and before she could speak, Astarion let out a nervous apology under his breath. Tav could see the panic in his eyes, afraid he had crossed a line.
"No -" She felt herself get flustered, but Tav mustered up the courage to reach for Astarion's face, cupping his cheekbone.
"I-I actually...like it," Tav stammered, her eyelashes battered at him shyly.
Astarion's eyebrows raised in shock before a cocky smirk spread across his lips. "Oh, is that so?" he teased, his voice low and playful.
Tav nodded.
Astarion's fingers trailed up the back of her thighs, tickling her skin. Tav squirmed under his touch, feeling a sudden heat between her thighs.
Her breath hitched as Astarion groped her ass, his touch was surprisingly gentle and soft. Tav felt his breath become heavy and he leaned closer to her, his lips hovering just inches from hers.
"You're such a tease," she playfully scolded him, her voice laced with desire.
Astarion just chuckled, his fingers still teasingly caressing her skin. "But you like it," he whispered, his lips now grazing her ear.
Damn, he's right.
Tav liked the way he made her feel, and the way he touched her. With a sudden burst of confidence, she pulled him in for a passionate kiss, gently climbing on top of his body fully.
Astarion's hands gripped Tav's hips, softly tugging them against his groin. He huffed into the kiss, grinding her hips against him with each needy thrust.
Tav's hands slid up Astarion's chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath his shirt. She moaned softly while he continued to grind against her, the lace of his shirt now completely undone and hanging loosely around his neck.
Astarion growled low in his throat, his lips moving from hers to trail kisses down her neck. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. "If this is what you really want, my love - I can't wait to feel you."
Tav shivered at his words, her body aching with desire. "I want you," she replied, her hands running through his hair as she tugged him closer.
Astarion's hands traveled down her body, his fingers tracing the curves of her waist before sliding under her shirt. He lifted it over her head, revealing her bare skin to him. He helped her kick off her pants as well.
Astarion lifted her by the waist, pushing her to sit straight up on his lap as he laid, "I want to see you from this angle."
Tav looked down on him in her undergarments. This was the most naked she had ever been in front of him, and it made her shudder with anxiousness.
His eyes sparkled, trailing down from her collarbones, breasts, stomach, full thighs, and then the soft cloth of her panties. She was a work of art, a muse.
His hand snaked up her side, with a swift motion he unclipped her bra with one hand; allowing it to sink off her shoulders.
Tav turned her head timidly, hiding her face in as much of her hair as possible.
As her bra fell, her breasts were exposed to the cool air of the night, and Astarion was practically drooling.
"Pretty." Astarion hummed in approval. He reached out for her breast, cupping the soft skin into his palm.
Tav's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She had never been touched like this before and she didn't know how to react. Astarion's hand continued to roam over her chest, his touch gentle and curious.
"Relax, my dear," he whispered, he took her nipple between his fingers. "I will be gentle."
He sat up, one breast in his palm, and his other hand wrapped around her waist.
Astarion's lips trailed down Tav's neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses. He gave her breast a gentle squeeze. Tav gasped at the sensation, her body responding to his touch despite her nerves.
He pulled her closer, his lips now on hers, and Tav melted into his embrace. Astarion's other hand joined in, caressing her other breast, and Tav couldn't hold back a loud moan.
"There it is. how does it feel?" His breath tickled her lips.
"More - please.." Tav shamelessly lowered her head, allowing her whimpers to flow out softly.
Astarion kissed her deeply, and her worries and doubts faded away. Tav gave in to the pleasure, letting Astarion take the lead and guide her through this new experience.
she was grateful to have him as her first. He was gentle and nurturing to her needs and wants.
Astarion continued to explore Tav’s body, hands hungrily stroking every curve, scar, and stretch mark he could dip his fingers on.
Studying her every move, expression, and whimper, Astarion pinned every spot that made her jaw drop and face burn red. He specifically loved the way her lower lip fell when she moaned.
He felt one thing that he had never felt before: In control. And all he wanted to do with it was please Tav.
He continued to kiss her, lacing his tongue with hers. The excitement started to whelm deep into his stomach and as a result, poking Tav’s inner thighs with a full erection.
Astarion became desperate, sloppily kissing her while their tongues twirled together. Their hold got tighten around each other and Astarion pulled away with a sharp breath for air.
“I wonder how you taste." His lips pulled into a smug look and it burned Tav's heart. He was so shameless and knew exactly what he wanted. Why wouldn't be honest with his love?
He pushed Tav's back onto the grass, hovering over her naked body.
Tav's heart raced, and Astarion looked down at her with dominating eyes. She couldn't believe she was here, at this moment, ready to give her virginity.
As he pulled his shirt off, Tav blatantly stared at his abs. But when he removed his pants, his erection building right up, Tav had a wave of nerves wash over her.
Astarion noticed the panic in her eyes and immediately stopped. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, his hand caressing her cheek.
"It's okay, my dear," he whispered, "I'll take care of you."
Tav's heart swelled at his words. She nodded, giving him a small smile. He would take care of her, surely.
His lips trailed down Tav's collarbones, making their way to her breasts. Tav's breath hitched, he took one of her nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it and sending shivers down her spine.
He then moved down her stomach, his lips leaving a trail of kisses and his hands caressing every inch of her skin. When he reached her thighs, Astarion couldn't resist the temptation any longer.
With a devilish glint in his eye, he spread her legs wide and took a deep breath, "Delicious," he murmured, before teasing her inner thighs with his kisses.
Tav squirmed under his touch, her skin tingling from the grazing of his fangs against her thighs. A soft moan escaped her lips, and a trail of hickeys littered her skin.
But it was nothing compared to the sensation when Astarion finally placed a single kiss on her core. Tav's back arched for more, her fingers gripping the blades of grass. A soft gasp left her lips.
"I think we should take this slow, my dear," Astarion whispered against her sex, "After all, it's your first time."
Again, his lips were on her folds, kissing them until his tongue dragged across her wetness. The slick of her core had a sweet tinge that only made him desperate for more.
The tip of his tongue fell onto Tav's clit. It burned in heat compared to his tongue and he slowly traced in all kinds of shapes. His red eyes glared up at Tav, studying which designs made her moan more, whimper, arch her back, and push her hips closer against his mouth.
And when he did find her spot, Tav's became a breathy mess. Cries and whimpers flowed out her mouth like lyrics to her favorite song. Her ankles quivered to each long stroke of Astarion's tongue.
Her stomach knotted deep within her and Tav hastily grabbed a handful of his curls.
"A-aahhh, Don't..S-Stop." She gritted her teeth and her face scrunched in an intense plea to his tongue.
His name cried off her lips.
With a devilish glint in his eyes, Astarion flicked his tongue and teased her most sensitive spot. Tav's moans grew louder and heavier.
It was like he became almost feral. He pushed his face closer to her core, his tongue working even more intensely against her clit. Tav felt a knot forming in her stomach. Tav's body tensed up as she neared her climax.
With one final flick of his tongue, Astarion brought Tav to her peak, her body released itself, and Tav let out a breathy cry. Astarion looked up at her, nodding in approval as he took in her flushed cheeks and ragged breaths.
Tav was left breathless and Astarion quickly covered her mouth with his, their tongues tangled needingly like a drug. Their tongues and teeth clashed together roughly. Their bodies practically hummed with a desire for more.
Finally, they pulled away, their chests rising and falling, both trying to catch their breath. "Wow..I...never felt that - before," Tav huffed, her eyes fell hazy.
Astarion gazed at Tav with a mischievous smirk on his face. "I could say the same, my love," he replied, before pulling her in for another heated kiss.
Tav moaned between the kiss, "I want to make you feel good too."
"Open your mouth," Astarion commanded as he fit himself perfectly between her legs.
Tav obeyed, and his slender fingers slipped into her mouth. She sucked on them eagerly, wetting them with her tongue. His eyes coldly pushed them deeper into her throat until she gagged.
"You're such a good pup," Astarion praised, his voice husky with desire. He used her saliva to lubricate his cock before placing it at the entrance of her core.
"Are you ready?" His red eyes pierced Tav's, and with teary eyes, she nodded yes.
With a slow and steady pace, Astarion pushed his hips forward, sliding himself into her. Tav clutched onto his arms and winced at the sharp pain, but Astarion's face faded somber at the sound of her cries.
"Shhh...There, there. Try to relax," he comforted her, giving her a moment to adjust to his length. Tav pulled him closer into a hug, tightly shutting her eyes into his nape.
Astarion gently rubbed the back of her head with his hand, his thumb tracing comforting circles on her skin. Tears welled up in Tav's eyes, but she spoke to Astarion through the pain.
"I can feel you," Tav hummed in a soft voice, admiration.
His heart skipped a beat at her words. They were finally one, and it made him fall in love with her all over again.
Astarion rarely became nervous, but Tav's words shook him, "A-Alright, I'm going to go slow, my love..."
With each thrust of his hips, Astarion could feel Tav's grip tighten around him, and he let out a low grunt of pleasure against her neck. Tav's body responded eagerly to his, and soon they were moving in perfect rhythm together.
Tav's nails dug into Astarion's shoulder blades, dragging lines down his back until it rested on his hips. Tav forced his hips down with her palms closer to her groin.
Their bodies were slick with sweat as they moved against each other, and Tav's moans mingled with Astarion's grunts. At that moment, nothing else mattered except the two of them, lost in their lust.
Astarion grabbed Tav's thigh, forcibly pulling her leg up tighter into his cock. He pumped skillfully into her sex, closing his eyes as his body greedily melted to the sensation.
Fuck, Astarion's mind went blank. Sex was never for pleasure. Not in his world, but in this moment; there was something special about the way his spine shivered and his skin crawled.
Without a word, Astarion took hold of Tav's wrists and pinned them above her head, glaring down at her with carnal lust. Only a gasp left her lips.
"I'm going to take everything I want from you, my love, greedily and passionately."
Wasting no time, his hips rocked against Tav's, their bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces.
Tav mewled a loud moan, the roughness of Astarion's thrusts almost bordering on pain. But it was a good kind of pain, one that sent shivers down her spine and made her toes curl.
"Astarion!" she cried out, her voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation. "Fuck...n-nghh!"
Astarion's own moans mixed with hers, his breath hot against her skin as he continued to drive into her with each thrust. Tav's walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper and deeper inside her.
Their bodies moved in perfect rhythm, each moan and gasp pushed them closer and closer to the edge. Tav's mind clouded with nothing but the feeling of Astarion's cock inside her.
"Harder, Astarion," she begged, her voice rasped raw with need.
And he obliged, his movements becoming rougher and more urgent and they both approached their climax. Tav's moans turned into cries of ecstasy while her body trembled beneath Astarion's hold.
With one final thrust, Astarion let out a loud moan. His length twitched three times, filling Tav before collapsed on top of her. Their bodies were still entwined.
When he pulled out, a small sheen of blood covered his tip.
Astarion captured Tav's lips, and his eyes fluttered hazily. He then pulled Tav into a hug and they lay in each other's arms, panting and catching their breath. They may have started as strangers, but in that moment, they were truly one and it was a feeling that he never wanted to let go of.
"You're amazing," Astarion kissed Tav's forehead, "How do you feel?"
"I feel ruined - but in the best way possible." Her mouth hung open, still catching her breath.
Astarion clicked his tongue against his teeth, "Darling, you will be feeling deliciously sore in all the right places tomorrow."
"You really think so?" Tav's glossy eyes widened with a flush of red burning her cheeks.
Astarion was so right. The lingering ache would serve as a sweet memory of their passionate and unforgettable night together.
Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!
#astarion acunin#astarion x tav#astarion angst#astarion fanfic#astarion smut#astarion x reader#bg3 fanfiction#astarion bg3#astarion#bg3 fic#bg3 fluff#bg3#bg3 tav#virgin tav#bloodlust 1#bg3 smut
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Based off events happening to me today:
Tav feeling super anxious for no reason and spiralling and they don't know why and their partner trying to help?
Please
Aw bless, i know this was sent a while ago but I hope things are okay xox
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Karlach:
The night was still, the kind of deep silence that should have felt soothing, wrapped in Karlach’s warmth and the safety of her arms. But tonight, the silence pressed on you, heavy and smothering, like a dark tide rising in your chest. Karlach had already drifted off beside you, one arm draped protectively across you as if even in sleep she wanted to keep you close, shield you.
You tried to breathe through it, tried to focus on the feeling of her arm, the softness of her skin against yours. But each inhale grew tighter, your chest clenching, until it felt like your lungs were refusing to open. Heart pounding, you clenched the sheets in your fists, trembling, as the world around you blurred and closed in, warping until you couldn’t tell up from down, awake from dreaming.
The sound of your labored breaths must have pulled Karlach from her sleep, because her eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep until they landed on you and filled with immediate concern.
“Hey…hey, babe, what’s going on?” she asked, her voice low and soothing, though you could hear the edge of worry she tried to mask. Her hand, warm and steady, came up to your cheek, thumb brushing along your skin. “You’re shaking, love—talk to me. What’s wrong?”
You tried to speak, to respond with something reassuring, anything that would tell her you were fine, but the words wouldn’t come. The walls felt like they were closing in, your vision tunneling, and you couldn’t look away from Karlach, from her face. She was here, with you, yet you felt like you were slipping away.
Karlach’s brows knitted together, her own chest tightening with helplessness. She’d faced countless enemies, survived the hellscape of Avernus, and yet here—watching you crumble in front of her—she didn’t know what to do. Her hand moved to clasp yours, fingers intertwining tightly as though she could anchor you back to reality.
“Listen to me,” she said, her voice firmer now, taking on the same tone she’d use in battle, one she knew you trusted. “Breathe with me, okay? Just…try to match my breath. In and out. You’ve got this.”
You tried, focusing on her, on the gentle rhythm of her breathing, but it felt like you were trapped in a storm, and the calm Karlach offered was just out of reach. She watched you, distress clear in her expression as she realized her words weren’t getting through, and the soft crackle of her engine, the familiar hum, only made the quiet around you seem louder.
“Dammit,” she whispered, voice wavering. “I’m here, alright? Whatever’s got you like this, I’m right here.” She pulled you closer, wrapping her arms tightly around you, burying her face into your hair as if she could absorb some of the weight pressing down on you. “You’re safe. I swear it. Nothing’s going to hurt you. Not if I’m here.”
Her presence, so solid and unyielding, cut through the fear just enough to let you take a shuddering breath, her warmth seeping into you like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. Her fingers traced comforting circles against your back, and she murmured soft, nonsensical reassurances, the kind of quiet comforts she’d never shared with anyone before you.
“You don’t have to talk,” she whispered, though the waver in her voice told you she desperately wished she knew what was happening in your mind. “Just…squeeze my hand, okay? Let me know you’re still here with me.”
With a shaky breath, you did, your fingers trembling but firm enough as you held onto her. Her eyes softened, filling with relief as she gave your hand a gentle squeeze in return.
“You’re not alone in this,” she continued, her voice barely above a murmur. “Whatever’s in your head… I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Her words, grounding and soothing, began to penetrate through the fog of your mind, the relentless weight lifting bit by bit. Karlach pressed her forehead against yours, her breath warm against your face as she matched her breathing to yours, syncing your uneven gasps with her steady inhales. Each breath felt a little easier, her warmth and steady presence like an anchor pulling you back from the depths.
Minutes passed, and gradually, the panic ebbed, the tightness in your chest loosening as you took in her scent, the comfort of her closeness. She stayed with you, patient and unwavering, until you felt the storm inside finally begin to calm.
When you looked up at her, her eyes were full of worry, tinged with guilt as though she could’ve done more.
“Are you…feeling any better?” she asked, brushing a hand through your hair, voice gentle. You nodded, squeezing her hand as you gave her a shaky smile, trying to reassure her.
“Thank you, Karlach,” you whispered, your voice still unsteady. “I…don’t know what I’d do without you.”
She smiled, though there was a vulnerability in her gaze, the depth of her worry for you still lingering. “You don’t have to know,” she said softly, pulling you close again. “Because I’m always going to be here.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Minthara:
The anxiety came on suddenly, like a wave crashing over you, quick and relentless, stealing the air from your lungs. Your thoughts spun out of control, a tangled mess of doubts, worries, and fears, each one feeding off the last, building into something you couldn’t escape. You felt trapped inside your own head, barely aware of your surroundings, your breaths coming in shallow, uneven gasps. Your hands shook as you gripped the edge of the table, fighting to anchor yourself to something solid.
Minthara had been beside you moments before, going over plans for the night’s camp watch, her calm, steely focus grounding in its own way. But as she turned back to you, her face changed. The sharpness in her gaze softened ever so slightly, concern bleeding through the cracks of her usual impassive mask.
“What is wrong?” Her voice was low, steady—meant to command, to cut through confusion. But the tone only made your pulse race faster, your mind recoiling from the idea of appearing weak before her.
“Nothing,” you managed to choke out, but it was obvious you were lying, and she wasn’t one to suffer dishonesty lightly.
“Don’t lie to me,” she bit out, but you could tell her voice was more uncertain than sharp. She reached out a hand, her fingers hesitant, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to do with the display of vulnerability before her. Minthara was a force, a warrior who understood battlefields, strategy, survival. But this—the swirling, choking darkness you felt—wasn’t something she could simply attack head-on, and that realization seemed to unsettle her.
She watched as you struggled to control your breathing, her lips pressed into a thin line.
“Speak to me,” she said again, more insistently this time, almost as if ordering you to snap out of it.
You could barely hear her over the racing thoughts in your head, each more overwhelming than the last. Anxiety had taken root deep inside you, and no amount of her demanding tone or even her solid presence could shake it loose.
“I—I can’t,” you managed, voice barely more than a whisper.
Minthara’s frustration grew, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her gaze flickering around the room as though looking for something tangible she could fight, something she could fix. But there was nothing there, nothing to direct her fury at.
“This… fear,” she said finally, the word tasting foreign and strange in her mouth. “I don’t understand it. It has no shape, no sense. You’re strong; why can’t you just… dismiss it?” Her tone was more questioning than chastising, but you still flinched, the ache of not being understood cutting deeper.
“I don’t know,” you muttered, closing your eyes, trying to block out her piercing gaze. The words you wanted to say fell short, each attempt at an explanation slipping through your fingers. “It’s not that simple, Minthara. I can’t just will it away.”
For a moment, she stood there, silent, wrestling with her own irritation and helplessness. Her fists clenched at her sides, jaw tense. Then, with a frustrated sigh, she closed the distance between you, placing her hands on your shoulders in a grip that was firm, grounding.
“Look at me,” she ordered, and you forced yourself to meet her gaze, even as your mind continued to spin. “You are here. Right here, with me.” Her voice softened, but just barely, a rough edge of vulnerability breaking through. “There is no battle now, no foe to fight—only this moment.”
The warmth of her hands, the solidity of her presence, pulled you back, anchoring you even as you felt yourself slipping away. Her eyes held yours with a determination that cut through some of the fog, her grip on you a reminder that you weren’t alone.
“Focus on my voice, on my touch,” she murmured, her brow furrowing in concentration as she struggled to find the right words. “Breathe with me.”
You tried, inhaling deeply to match the steady rise and fall of her own breathing. The rhythm was grounding, a tether pulling you back toward something real, something outside of the chaos in your head.
“Minthara… I’m sorry,” you whispered, guilt flooding in as the worst of the panic ebbed, leaving exhaustion in its place. “I didn’t mean to… drag you into this.”
She huffed, shaking her head as her grip tightened ever so slightly.
“I don’t need your apologies,” she replied, her tone gruff but with a warmth hidden beneath. “Just… tell me how to help you next time. If there is a way.”
You nodded, her words a balm against the ache in your chest. “This… was enough.”
She scoffed lightly, but her lips softened into the barest hint of a smile. “Good.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Lae'zel:
The world around you feels tight, claustrophobic, like it's closing in with each passing moment. Every sound is sharp, too loud, and every breath feels short, strained, as though you're inhaling smoke. You try to ground yourself, to focus on something—anything—but the rush of thoughts is relentless, tangling together, louder, and louder, until—
"Vlakith's eyes, what is wrong with you?"
Lae'zel's voice breaks through the noise, her tone sharp with annoyance, and though it's a familiar sound, it only heightens the chaos in your mind. You glance up at her, barely able to meet her gaze, your hands gripping the edges of your cloak tightly, knuckles white. Your vision swims, and there's something vulnerable, exposed, in your look that catches her off-guard. She crosses her arms, brow furrowing deeply.
"What has brought you to this pathetic state?" she demands, though her tone carries a slight edge of uncertainty. Lae'zel isn't used to this, to seeing you so unsteady. Her impatience seems almost protective, like she's annoyed that she can't simply strike down whatever is plaguing you.
You open your mouth to respond, but no words come. Your throat feels constricted, tight, and suddenly, your chest aches, like you're being crushed from the inside. Your heart races, and it’s hard to keep your breathing steady. Each attempt to explain feels pointless, small words incapable of conveying the tangle inside you.
"Lae'zel, I—" you start, but your voice cracks, and you feel a pang of embarrassment. You look away, frustration mingling with the turmoil inside, and that only makes everything worse.
Lae'zel huffs, her usual directness faltering. You see the familiar tension in her jaw, the slight narrowing of her eyes as she looks at you with something close to confusion, maybe even worry.
"Are you injured? Poisoned?" she asks, her gaze flickering over you as though searching for some sign of physical harm. "Speak, or have you lost your tongue as well?"
Your breaths come quicker, shallower, and Lae'zel's frustration intensifies. She reaches out, her hand hovering over your shoulder, fingers twitching with restrained force. She’s trying to understand, trying to solve this the way she would a problem on the battlefield, yet it's clear she has no idea what to do.
"Lae'zel," you manage, voice barely a whisper. "I—I can't—" The words crumble into silence, and you turn away, feeling an overwhelming need to escape, to be anywhere but here.
But she doesn’t let you. Instead, she steps in front of you, her figure imposing, her expression a mix of irritation and something else, something softer that she would never acknowledge out loud.
"Cease this nonsense," she orders, her tone still sharp. "You are stronger than this. Why are you allowing yourself to be reduced to a trembling wretch?"
You can see her impatience clashing with her own helplessness, the unease in her gaze as she watches you struggle. She wants to fix it, to fight it, but anxiety isn’t an enemy she can face with her blade.
"Lae'zel, I don’t… I don’t know what to do," you finally admit, feeling the words rush out in a painful confession. "Everything feels like—like it’s too much. I can't… I can’t stop it."
Her expression softens, if only slightly, as she processes your words. Her hand hesitantly comes to rest on your shoulder, her grip firm, grounding. She sighs, exasperated, but there’s a trace of something else, a rare tenderness lurking beneath her frustration.
"This… weakness of yours," she mutters, her gaze piercing but not unkind, "it will not conquer you. You are stronger than this."
You swallow, looking down, but her hand tightens on your shoulder, commanding your attention.
"I do not know how to battle something that lives only in your mind," she admits, voice low, almost reluctant. "But I will not let it claim you."
The honesty in her words, the sincerity that she rarely shares, cuts through the haze. She doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to help, but she’s here, and she’s not backing away.
"Look at me," she says, her voice softer, less an order and more a plea. "You are not alone, do you hear me? You are… mine." She pauses, the weight of that admission hanging in the air, her hand moving to clasp the back of your neck, fingers steadying.
You nod, taking a shaky breath, feeling some of the tension ease under her touch. Her hand remains firm, anchoring you, and though her expression remains stern, there’s a glimmer of understanding in her eyes.
"If this… feeling attempts to overtake you again," she says, struggling with the words, "know that I am here. And I will not let you fall."
Her words, her strength, they begin to ground you, to steady the spiraling thoughts. It’s not perfect, and she’s still as impatient and brash as ever, but in her own way, she’s offering you solace.
"Thank you," you manage, voice trembling but genuine. Lae'zel huffs, her hand leaving your shoulder with an awkward pat.
"Yes, well, see that you regain your senses soon," she mutters, though her eyes linger on yours, holding a warmth that belies her gruffness.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Shadowheart:
The evening had started peacefully, with you and Shadowheart sharing a quiet moment by the fire, watching embers flicker against the backdrop of the starlit sky. Shadows from the flames danced across her face, lending her beauty a mysterious, ethereal quality. She was curled against you, her head on your shoulder, fingers intertwined with yours, her touch warm and steady. But somewhere in the calm, a ripple of unease began to grow, small and sharp, turning slowly into a twisting, thorny mass of thoughts in your chest.
At first, you tried to ignore it, keeping your breath steady, your hand still wrapped around hers. But the familiar pressure started to mount, your heart drumming an erratic rhythm in your chest, thoughts racing faster than you could tether them. Each breath seemed to get shorter, constricted, your mind and body spiraling in sync.
Shadowheart noticed the change, her fingers stilling in yours as she looked up at you.
“Are you all right?” she asked, her voice soft, but laced with growing concern.
You tried to nod, tried to answer her, but words lodged themselves in your throat, and a stifling silence stretched out instead. The familiar symptoms crept over you—sweat beading on your forehead, heart hammering, mind racing in a flurry of worst-case scenarios and creeping fears you couldn’t explain. You closed your eyes, trying to drown out the overwhelming rush of it all.
“Hey… look at me.” Shadowheart’s voice was a steady anchor, but even that felt distant, unreachable. She tightened her hold on your hand, shifting to face you fully, her expression growing more worried by the second. “You’re not all right, are you?”
There was a helplessness in her gaze, a deep, worried line creasing her forehead. Shadowheart was no stranger to combat, to wounds and battle scars—but this was different. She couldn’t simply fight off whatever was holding you hostage.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” she whispered, squeezing your hand, her other hand reaching to cup your cheek. “Please, tell me how to help you.”
The words barely registered. Your mind was racing too fast, filled with an overwhelming wave of dread and nameless anxieties that seemed to suffocate you from within. Your breath grew shallower, panic clawing at the edges of your awareness. You felt untethered, as though you were floating far from your own body, lost in a sea of dread.
“I… I don’t…” you stammered, struggling to find something, anything to ground yourself.
Shadowheart’s eyes widened, and her hand on your cheek grew firmer, more determined.
“I’m right here,” she murmured, her voice laced with a fierce, protective tone. “Look at me. Just focus on me. Forget everything else.”
But focus seemed impossible, your thoughts spiraling faster and faster, like being caught in a current you couldn’t swim against. You clutched at her hand like a lifeline, but even that felt like it was slipping away, your mind lost in a haze of fear and helplessness.
Shadowheart’s breath hitched, her distress evident.
“I don’t know how to help, but I’m not leaving you,” she whispered, her voice laced with a tremor of frustration—at herself, at this intangible enemy pulling you away from her. “Please, just… keep holding onto me. Try to breathe with me, okay?”
She brought her forehead to rest against yours, closing her eyes, and began to breathe in slow, measured counts, her breaths steady, an anchor in the chaos. She kept her hand on your cheek, her fingers tracing gentle circles against your skin, grounding you in the feeling of her warmth, the solid reality of her presence.
For a long time, you remained caught in the grip of panic, but Shadowheart didn’t waver. She continued to hold you, her voice a constant murmur of reassurance.
“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe,” she repeated softly, her thumb brushing gently across your cheek. And slowly, so slowly, you began to feel the weight lifting, your breaths aligning with hers, each inhale and exhale pulling you a little closer to the present.
When your breathing finally slowed, the panic ebbing to a dull throb, you opened your eyes, meeting her gaze. Her face was etched with relief and lingering worry, her own breaths still steady but shallow, as if she had been holding them alongside you.
“There you are,” she whispered, a faint smile touching her lips. Her fingers lingered on your cheek, her thumb brushing softly across your skin. “I didn’t know how to help, but… I’m glad you stayed with me.”
You managed a nod, exhausted but grateful, letting her presence soothe you as the last remnants of fear melted away. She leaned forward, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, and the weight of her love and care filled the hollow spaces where panic had once dwelled.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Jaheira:
The night was still, the crackling of the campfire softened by a light breeze, but it was doing nothing to calm the spiraling chaos in your mind. Your chest was tight, and your breaths came shallow and quick, as if you couldn’t pull in enough air, couldn’t hold enough of it to ground yourself. Panic wrapped its relentless grip around you, twisting with each racing thought. Everything felt unbearably close, as though the walls of the night itself were pressing in on you.
Jaheira had been sitting beside you by the fire, recounting stories of her travels, her words lulling you to a quiet peace until the wave had started to take over. She turned to you, her face creasing with worry as she noticed the change, her warm expression shifting to one of sharp concern.
“Are you alright?” she asked, her tone soft, hands reaching toward yours.
You tried to nod, tried to ground yourself in her gaze, but the pressure in your chest only grew tighter. The world felt unreal, and no matter how much you fought it, your mind kept spiraling—thoughts blending together, fears and memories piling up until everything was a tangled mess of what-ifs and impossible scenarios.
Jaheira’s eyes widened, realizing something was deeply wrong. Her hands, usually so steady and controlled, trembled as she gently cupped your face.
“Look at me,” she urged, her voice gentle but laced with urgency. “Breathe, alright? Slow breaths. Focus on my voice.”
Her hands were warm, grounding in a way, but even her touch couldn’t completely pull you back. Every fiber of you was fighting to calm down, to ease the storm in your mind, but each attempt felt like trying to grasp smoke. The panic felt endless, and you could see the worry deepen in Jaheira’s eyes as you struggled to respond.
“I… I don’t know what to do,” she murmured, her voice breaking slightly as she glanced around as if seeking an answer in the shadows of the trees. “Please, just… breathe with me, alright? We’ll get through this.”
Her distress tugged at you, piercing through the haze just enough to make you feel guilty for causing her pain, but even that seemed to add to the spiral. You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to fight back the rising tide of panic, but it was no use. The tighter you tried to hold on, the harder it was to breathe, and soon you were gasping, fingers digging into the ground as if holding on to something solid could somehow anchor you.
Jaheira shifted closer, wrapping her arms around you, pulling you tightly against her.
“Please, love, come back to me,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m here. You’re safe. Just stay with me.”
There was a desperation in her tone that broke through, her words pressing into the heart of the storm inside you. She was grounding herself in trying to ground you, holding you with a fierce tenderness, her arms strong and unyielding, as if her very presence could keep the panic from consuming you whole. Her fingers gently traced patterns across your back, her breath steady and even as she held you close.
“You’re safe,” she repeated, each word soft and deliberate. “I know it feels overwhelming, but it will pass. Just focus on my voice. I’m right here.”
Little by little, her words began to take root, the pressure loosening in your chest as you leaned into her touch. She kept whispering softly, her words a steady thread that you latched onto, pulling yourself out of the spiral, inch by inch.
After a few minutes, the panic began to ebb, replaced by a heavy exhaustion. Jaheira’s hands never left you, her touch constant and reassuring, her fingers tracing gentle circles on your back as she pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.
When you finally looked up, her face was tear-streaked, her expression full of relief and love.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice raw and shaky. Jaheira shook her head, a faint, tearful smile breaking through as she held you tighter.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” she replied, her tone full of quiet conviction. “I’d face a thousand battles for you… I’ll face this one too. I don’t care how hard it is, how lost you feel. I’ll be here, every time.”
Her words sank in, a warmth settling in the hollow ache that the panic had left behind. You buried your face against her shoulder, letting her words, her presence, become your anchor.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Gale:
It started as a low tremor in your chest—a tiny thread of worry that, on most days, might pass unnoticed. But tonight, under the quiet candlelight and warmth of Gale’s study, it begins to unfurl, insidious, growing with every heartbeat until you’re barely breathing, barely aware of anything but the constriction in your chest, the overwhelming feeling that something is very wrong.
The book in your hands slips to the floor with a soft thud, but it sounds like a thunderclap to your frayed nerves. You clutch the edge of the armrest, struggling for air, unable to quite ground yourself in the room, in the moment.
“Hey… Are you alright?” Gale’s voice breaks through, sounding far off despite his closeness. You can hear the alarm creeping into his tone, and when he moves closer, kneeling beside you, his hands hover uncertainly in the air as though he’s afraid to touch you, unsure of what might help. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"
You want to answer, to say anything, but the words knot up in your throat. Each inhale feels like it could be your last, shallow and jagged, and all you can do is try to gasp for air that never seems to fully come.
Panic flickers in Gale's eyes, an emotion so rarely seen in him. He reaches out, gently brushing his fingers over your shoulder, and then, with more urgency, taking your hand in his.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, even though he’s clearly just as frightened. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”
You look at him, his face swimming in your vision, distorted by the intensity of your anxiety. A silent tear slips down your cheek, and the sight of it seems to make him crumble. Gale has seen you in battle, in moments of joy and sorrow, but this—this paralyzing, quiet fear—is something entirely new.
“I don’t know what to do, love,” he whispers, voice trembling as he brushes your hair back, his thumb grazing your cheek, catching another tear as it falls. “Just… tell me how to help.”
“I—” Your voice catches, barely a whisper, almost inaudible. “I don’t… I can’t…”
“I’m here,” he repeats, his words soft but determined. “You don’t have to go through this alone.” His hands find yours again, holding them firmly as though his touch alone might be enough to anchor you, to pull you back from the edge.
As the minutes pass, Gale settles beside you on the floor, crossing his legs, staying as close as he can without overwhelming you. His gaze doesn’t waver, fixed on you with a quiet intensity, like he’s willing his calmness to wash over you, to lend you even a sliver of the steadiness that you desperately need.
"Try to breathe with me, alright?" he says after a moment, keeping his voice steady and low, a soft, warm undertone that you can just barely latch onto. "One breath at a time. In, and then out. I’ll do it with you."
You try to focus on him, on the cadence of his words, the slow rhythm of his breathing as he inhales deeply and then lets it out in a slow, measured release. In and out. Over and over. And gradually, your breaths begin to mirror his, hesitant at first but then finding a shaky kind of sync.
Minutes pass in silence, with Gale whispering quiet reassurances, his fingers tracing soothing circles along the back of your hand. He stays close, his presence a grounding force, his warmth beginning to break through the fog.
When the weight in your chest finally begins to ease, your breaths evening out, Gale’s face softens, relief flashing in his eyes as he catches your gaze.
“You’re alright,” he murmurs, leaning in closer. “We’re alright.”
You nod, swallowing back a fresh wave of emotion, this time not from fear but from the tenderness in his voice, the unwavering patience in his gaze.
Gale raises a hand to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek, his own eyes glassy with tears of shared relief. "I was… so afraid," he admits, voice thick. "I’ve never seen you like this. I didn’t know if I was doing the right thing."
“You did… just right,” you whisper, the words rough but sincere. You lean into his touch, finding solace in the warmth of his palm against your cheek.
He smiles softly, and the tension in his shoulders melts, replaced by an aching tenderness. “Anytime you need, I’ll be here,” he says. “For as long as you want me.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Astarion:
The night air was heavy, pressing in as you sat by the dying embers of the campfire, your chest tight and breaths shallow. You weren’t even sure when the panic had crept in, only that it was there now, spreading like wildfire. The familiar, suffocating weight of anxiety had taken root, pushing thoughts out of control and magnifying every minor fear into something insurmountable.
Astarion was the first to notice, his usual playful smirk replaced by a look of deepening concern. He took a step closer, his sharp eyes studying you as if searching for some sign he could decipher. You could tell he was trying to mask his worry, but his brow was furrowed, and his hands fidgeted by his sides.
"Love?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with tension. "What's happening? What’s… what’s wrong?"
You tried to respond, but your throat felt closed, as if something tangible were lodged there, blocking any words from escaping. Your mind was awash with racing thoughts, each one louder and more pressing than the last, spiraling faster and faster until you felt lost in the noise.
Astarion reached out, hesitating as though unsure of what to do or how to help, his hand hovering before finally resting lightly on your shoulder. "Hey… Look at me, please. Whatever this is, you’re not alone. I’m here."
But you couldn’t meet his gaze, your eyes fixed downward, hands gripping your knees in a desperate attempt to steady yourself. The fear clawed at you, telling you things would never be alright, that you’d be forever trapped in this choking panic. You could feel Astarion’s fingers tighten, his voice growing sharper with unease.
“I… I don’t know what to do,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. You heard him curse under his breath, the usual mask of bravado slipping away to reveal a vulnerability he rarely showed. He seemed almost frantic, as if desperately trying to piece together what was happening.
A moment later, he lowered himself beside you, his voice gentler, softer. “Listen. Please, listen to me, alright? You don’t have to say anything, but… I need you to hear me.”
You gave a small, involuntary nod, still struggling to focus on anything outside the panic raging inside you. Astarion took a shaky breath, reaching out to take your hand in his. His grip was uncharacteristically warm, steadying, the weight of it something solid to anchor you to the present.
“This feeling, whatever it is… it won’t last forever,” he said, his tone steadying, as if willing it to be true. “I know it doesn’t feel that way right now, but just… try to breathe with me, alright? One breath at a time.”
His voice was calm, even if his expression was anything but. You could see the worry etched in his face, the faint tremor in his hand that betrayed his own anxiety. But he kept speaking, his voice low and unwavering, grounding you with each word.
“Just follow my breath. In… and out,” he whispered, inhaling deeply, exhaling slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve spent years in the dark, chained to my own mind, and… and I don’t know how to take away your pain. I want to. But for now… let me be here.”
His words cut through the fog of your mind, just enough to remind you that you weren’t alone. His hand squeezed yours, the slight pressure a reminder of his presence, steady and constant. Gradually, painfully, you tried to match his breaths, focusing on the sound of his voice, the feeling of his hand in yours.
Astarion’s fingers brushed over your knuckles, his touch delicate as if you were something fragile he feared might break. “Whatever darkness you’re feeling, I’ll stay right here. I swear it. And when you’re ready, I’ll help you put the pieces back together.”
The sincerity in his voice was a balm, easing the sharp edges of panic that had gripped you. It was strange, seeing him so unguarded, so openly vulnerable. He stayed by your side, his hand never leaving yours, his presence a lifeline through the worst of the storm. For once, he wasn’t hiding behind humor or bravado; he was simply there, raw and real, with you in your fear.
Slowly, your breaths evened, the crushing weight in your chest loosening just enough for you to draw in a full breath. Astarion noticed immediately, a glimmer of relief softening his expression. His thumb traced slow, soothing circles on the back of your hand, his voice a quiet murmur.
“There you are,” he whispered, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “One breath at a time. And I’ll be here, through all of it.”
You managed a small, grateful smile, squeezing his hand in return. For once, words felt unnecessary. Just the quiet presence of him beside you, his unwavering loyalty, was enough. And as the remnants of fear finally ebbed away, you leaned into him, letting yourself be held, comforted by the knowledge that, with him, you were never alone.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Wyll:
The first sign is a subtle tremor in your hands, just barely visible, but enough that you feel the prickle of dread in the pit of your stomach. You can’t seem to get a full breath in, your chest tight and shallow as though your lungs are pressing up against a wall. You try to steady yourself, forcing a long inhale and focusing on the quiet rhythm of the camp around you—the distant crackle of the fire, the murmur of voices.
But it doesn’t help. The edges of your vision start to blur, and your thoughts are racing, slipping through your grip like sand.
Wyll is the first to notice, his keen eyes catching the slight shake in your hands, the way your gaze is unfocused. He’s by your side in an instant, worry written in every line of his face as he crouches down, his hand hovering near your shoulder, hesitant.
“Hey, love… Are you all right?” His voice is soft, careful, but it only makes your anxiety spike higher.
You try to speak, to reassure him that you’re fine, that it’s nothing, but the words stick in your throat, tangled and heavy. The more you try to grasp at them, the more they slip away, leaving you fumbling in silence, feeling the wave of panic rise higher and higher.
Wyll’s face changes, his brows knitting together as he takes in the silence, the unsteady breath you’re forcing through clenched teeth.
“Okay, all right…” he murmurs, more to himself than to you, his fingers reaching out tentatively to rest on your arm. “I’m here. Whatever’s going on, I’m right here.”
You’re barely able to nod, the gesture feeling stiff and unnatural, your muscles locked in tension. A small part of you wants to pull away, to hide this unraveling from him, but you can’t move, trapped in a fog of your own spiraling thoughts.
Wyll swallows, clearly unsettled, but he doesn’t pull away. His hand is warm and steady against your arm, grounding even as your mind spins further out of control. He leans closer, voice steady but laced with a faint tremor. “Tell me what you need. Anything, I’ll do it. Just… tell me how to help.”
But you can’t; the words are gone, buried beneath the weight of your anxiety, the way it presses against your chest like a vice. You’re lost in a spiral, every thought louder and more overwhelming than the last, each one feeding into the next in a relentless loop.
You close your eyes, shaking your head slightly, as if that might shake loose the panic.
Wyll’s hand tightens, his grip firm and reassuring even in his own uncertainty. He takes a slow, measured breath, almost as if he’s trying to model it for you, trying to lead you into his rhythm.
“I… I don’t know if this’ll help,” he says, his voice low and soft. “But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe with me.”
He inches closer, one hand tentatively reaching for yours, his thumb tracing gentle circles over your knuckles. The steady warmth of his touch breaks through the fog just enough to let you catch a hint of reality, a reminder of something outside the panic. You try to focus on it, letting the sensation ground you.
Your breath is still shallow, your thoughts still racing, but Wyll doesn’t falter. He keeps his hand over yours, murmuring soft reassurances, his voice steady and calm even as his own anxiety edges into his expression.
Slowly, the crushing pressure in your chest begins to lessen, the loop of thoughts beginning to lose its hold. You focus on Wyll’s touch, his thumb tracing patterns over your hand, the way he murmurs softly, keeping his words gentle and unobtrusive, as though he’s trying not to startle you.
“I’m right here,” he says again, and this time, you’re able to feel it—his presence, solid and unwavering, cutting through the haze. “I’ll be right here until you’re ready. No rush.”
Bit by bit, you begin to anchor yourself to his words, letting them replace the racing thoughts. The fog clears slowly, your breathing evening out as you match the rhythm of his. Finally, you open your eyes to see him watching you, his gaze soft with worry and relief.
He lets out a small, shaky breath, a hand lifting to gently brush your hair back, his fingers lingering as though to remind you he’s still there.
“You don’t ever have to go through that alone,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with quiet determination. “I’m here, for whatever you need. Always.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Halsin:
The evening had begun with a rare stillness, a gentle calm woven through the golden light filtering into the small clearing you and Halsin had found to spend time together. He was humming as he tended to a fire, casting a glance your way every so often, a warm, gentle smile playing on his lips. But tonight, something felt off in your chest, a faint unease that had begun as a nagging, restless energy, yet had quietly grown until you couldn’t ignore it anymore.
Without warning, that unease blossomed into something sharper and more consuming. Your thoughts tangled and twisted, each one splintering into two, then four, until your mind felt like a mass of fraying threads. Your breaths became short and shallow, each one catching at the back of your throat. The forest around you blurred, the steady shapes of trees and flowers dissolving into a rush of shadowed green, and Halsin’s humming, usually so soothing, only seemed to crowd your senses further.
“Are you alright?” His voice, deep and familiar, brought you back just enough to make you realize that your hands were trembling. He was watching you with concern, his warm brow furrowing as he took a step closer.
You tried to answer, but your voice caught, nothing more than a thin rasp. Panic welled up, the edges of your vision growing dim as every part of you wanted to escape, to run from this terrible feeling clawing through your chest.
“My heart,” he said, more softly, kneeling beside you, his hand reaching for yours, but stopping just before it touched. “Something’s wrong. Please, just breathe with me.”
It was so Halsin, so typically him to stay calm and grounded. But you could only manage a tight, frantic shake of your head as the feeling kept surging, as if it were swallowing you whole. His face fell, an unusual worry clouding his eyes.
“How can I help? Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it,” he pleaded softly, his voice straining with his own rising concern.
You could feel his helplessness, the confusion behind his eyes. You wanted to reach out, to tell him it would pass, that you’d be fine, but the words slipped away. The worry on his face only sharpened your own distress, a dull ache forming in your chest.
He leaned back, taking a deep breath as if grounding himself for the both of you. Gently, he moved to sit closer, keeping his posture open, his eyes gentle yet alert.
“I’m here,” he murmured, voice low and steady. “I’m not leaving.”
The world still felt like it was closing in, but something about his words, his sheer presence, gave you a fragile tether to cling to. You focused on his voice, letting the deep, familiar cadence of it wash over you. Slowly, achingly, your breathing began to match his, pulling in slower, steadier breaths.
“I don’t know what this is like for you,” he continued softly, watching you intently, his voice even as if he didn’t want to disrupt the rhythm you were building. “But I want to understand. I want to help. You don’t have to hide it, not with me.”
You felt the tremor in his words, the sheer sincerity. The weight of them, the softness, eased the tightness in your chest. You closed your eyes, focusing on his presence, his warmth beside you, the smell of the earth and pine that always seemed to linger around him.
After a few more breaths, you managed to reach out, fingers brushing against his hand. He stilled, his eyes searching yours, and then his fingers wrapped carefully around yours. The warmth of his hand grounded you, gave you something real to hold onto.
“You’re safe here,” he said gently. “Whatever you’re feeling, whatever it is—there’s no need to run from it. Not with me here. We can face it together.”
The gentle reassurance was enough to anchor you, enough to let the pounding in your chest ebb just a little. You squeezed his hand, and his answering squeeze felt like a lifeline.
Slowly, he guided you, taking steady breaths in time with yours, whispering soft encouragements and gentle reassurances until the world around you began to settle, and the vice in your chest loosened. The rush of sensations gradually dulled, leaving only Halsin’s presence beside you, solid and comforting, his thumb brushing over your hand in gentle, soothing circles.
When you finally managed to meet his gaze, the worry in his eyes had softened into an expression of deep, unyielding care. He reached up with his free hand, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender and grounding.
“I am here for you, always,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Whatever you need. If there’s anything I can do… I will.”
With a weak, grateful smile, you nodded, feeling the warmth of his hand against yours, and finally, the world felt a little safer, a little more steady, simply because he was by your side.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
oof bit of a heavy one, but I hope you guys enjoyed it! - Seluney xox
If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x
#bg3#baldurs gate 3#minthara x reader#lae'zel x tav#lae'zel x reader#karlach x reader#karlach x tav#karlach bg3#baldurs gate karlach#shadowheart x tav#shadowheart x reader#minthara x tav#bg3 x reader#bg3 imagines#baldurs gate tav#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#gale x reader#gale x tav#gale dekarios x tav#gale dekarios x reader#halsin x reader#halsin x tav#wyll x reader#wyll x tav#wyll ravengard x tav#wyll ravengard x reader#bg3 hurt/comfort#hurt/comfort
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Hello! May I request Lae’zel, Karlach, and whoever else you want to write being washed by the reader. I find the idea of bathing and taking care of someone to be really sweet.
Headcanons + Blurbs for Being Taken Care of/Washed by Tav
A/N: Hello! Sorry for just getting around to requests and other things now, the end of the semester got pretty crazy (at least I passed everything !) and now I’m finally able to focus and get out of this rut. Thank you for your patience and I hope you like it!
Characters: Lae’zel, Karlach, Shadowheart, Wyll, Gale, Astarion, Halsin
Part 2
Lae’zel
• When you first offer to wash up with Lae’zel she’s mostly confused and kind of annoyed - there’s already a tadpole in her head, and that’s enough lack of privacy.
• “Chk. At my crèche these things are normal. However, you istiks insist on attaching emotional meaning to such things… no.”
• However the more she thinks about it… you two have shared a bed more than once. She respects you more than the others; when she tells you to speak she also makes sure you know she will listen. She supposes that maybe connection wouldn’t be so bad with you of all people.
• She just walks up to your tent, grabs your hand, and says “Fine.”
You meet her at the waterfront and- is she nervous? Her gaze wavers between you and the night sky, feet firmly planted into the ground and arms across her armored chest. You get most of your armor off, but that last clasp just has to give you trouble. “Lae’zel, could you help me out with this?” It’s silent for a tension filled moment, and you’re about to ask again.
“Chk.” She walks over and with ease undoes the clasp. She’s back to feet firmly planted and arms crossed, only looking at the sky. You unfurl your hair from its practical braid and keep your eyes on her. “I wish I could show you the Tears.” Your eyes widen when you think about the first night she invited you to her bunk, how hard getting used to this unusual plane must be for her. You place your hand on her shoulder and she tenses, but relaxes after she’s brought back to the moment.
“I wish I could see them.” You whisper to her. You ‘help’ her out of her armor (she’s just letting you at this point, she could’ve been out of it in 30 seconds flat) and you both hiss as you enter the cold water. After a soft and asking touch, she allows you to undo her hair and wash it. You gather her hair gently into your hands and have her lean back to the water. As she does, you can see that she clearly hasn’t been this vulnerable in maybe ever. You give a soothing stroke to her scalp and she hums. As you lather the looted soap into her hair and scratch your nails lightly, you hear her sniffle.
“Lae’zel… are you alright?” You stop your ministrations but keep a hand cupped at the back of her neck.
“My-my queen is false. I will never ascend. Tsk’va, I’m an enemy to my kin. I don’t want to be on this plane anymore… I miss the astral. I must fight but I do not know how to keep going.” She quickly wipes her tears and looks at you. “Speak, source of my bruises. I will always listen.”
With her hair looking clean, you slowly move the bar between her shoulder blades and move it in soothing circles. You kiss her temple. “My love, this situation is quite a mess. Tadpoles in our heads, endless injuries, and I cannot imagine what this world must be like for someone who has never been in it. We will get through this. I’m here. I’m yours.” With that she shows an inkling of a smile as she stares into the water in thought. You continue to bathe her with soft kisses in between every swipe of soap along with words of reassurance. You are hers, the source of her bruises.
Karlach
•Once Karlach is able to touch people again, she is ecstatic to wash up with you. She’s barely been able to keep her hands off of you since, so when you offer she squeals.
• “Of fucking course soldier! Who knows, we might even be able to turn that river into a hot spring.” Her eyebrows waggle and your face goes beet red.
• When you meet her she definitely cannonballs into the water and complains when it’s shallow
• “Aw hells, that’s gonna be a kink to work out in the morning.”
• You guys don’t bathe for a good 15 minutes, she’s just kissing you and rubbing your sides and it’s so SWEET
She breaks away from the kiss and wades further into the water. You grab the soap from the grass and follow after, settling your arms around her neck and wrapping your legs around her waist. Her fingers come up to pinch your nose and she flops backwards into the water, leaving both of you sopping wet when she comes back up. “Gods Karlach you’re gonna kill me,” you sputter as you cough out the bit of water that got in your mouth. She pats your back and lets out a full bellied laugh.
“That’s right soldier get it all out,” she grins. You shoot her a playful glare. When your collective giggles finally die down, you bring the bar of soap up to her hair and begin lathering and spreading it with your fingers. Her eyes close with a serene smile. You make sure to get the area around her horns, and she kisses your cheeks as you take care of them. “You know… after Gortash. After… Avernus. Nobody has taken care of me like this in so long. So fucking long.” She sighs as you bring the bar to her neck and chest, taking away the near pints of blood the party had spilled earlier.
“I’ll make sure it never is that way again. I love you, and no matter what happens you deserve to be free from all of this.” You meet her gaze as the bar moves to her shoulders, and you see fear.
“Tav… my heart.” She lets out a choked sob and a tear streams down her cheek that you immediately wipe away. “I finally have you after so godsdamn long, and I don’t want to lose what’s most important. Not again. I’m just so scared.” She breaks down into tears and her skin heats up warmly under your skin. You crush her into your chest and she buries her face into your neck, where you rub soothing circles into her scalp along with kisses.
“You won’t lose me. Whether it be in Baldurs Gate or Avernus, I’ll be here.” She lifts her head and you kiss her nose, where a little flame sparks and then snuffs out. She lets out a soft chuckle as her mood cools. “I promise to you we’re gonna kill that pathetic little fucker and anyone who helped him.” Her lips meet yours and you kiss back with eager passion. As you pull away you go back to soothingly rubbing the bar across the planes of her back.
“Wait- didn’t you grab this soap off a dead guy?! GROSS soldier!”
Shadowheart
•She immediately says no
•Not because she doesn’t trust you, she just can’t swim and finds it a bit embarrassing for her powerful presence
•After you finally convince her it’ll only be where she can stand, she agrees.
• “A bottle of wine, my lover, and a nice grassy beach? It’ll do,” she gives a sarcastic but playful smile.
•You two get plastered on Chultan Fireswill before you hop in
After one last swig from the bottle Shadowheart takes your hand and leads you into the water. You stop at around three feet deep and get to your knees. Her braid whips around her shoulder as she serenely begins to scrub away blood with the soap bar. “I love this silver color so much. It illuminates you as some would say,” you utter softly, and she chuckles. She slowly takes her hair out of the braid’s confines and your jaw drops at how long and pretty it is as it flows down her back. You look pointedly to the bar of soap. “May I?”
She squints at you in playful suspicion then smiles. “You may.” You lather the soap into her hair and she lays her head back into your chest as you scratch lovingly at her scalp. She brings her hand up to your cheek behind her and whispers, “The moon looks beautiful tonight.” As soon as the words leave her lips the wound in her hand opens. She hisses and sits back up. As she looks back to you, her gaze looks broken. “After everything I’ve been through with the dark lady, I don’t think this will ever go away.”
You inch your hand closer to hers, placing your pinkies over each other. “It’s horrible… what she did to you.” She grins bitterly but moves to interlace your fingers, rubbing the back of your hand with her thumb.
“I just wish I could remember any of that horrible stuff. I want to be angry. But mostly I’m only numb. She was… she was everything to me. And although it is horrible yes, it’s all so new. Being away from her.”
She nods in confirmation as you move the bar of soap to her chest, the motions soothing her and making her eyes soften as she watches you. “I understand,” you whisper as you lean up to kiss the shell of her pointed ear. That’s all that needs to be said, Shadowheart thinks to herself. You’ve become more than her greatest companion in her eyes, she trusts you’ll be there through thick and thin. “We’ll just have to make new memories,” you smile, and as you finish rubbing the soap across her body you throw it back to the grass, pulling her into a loving kiss as she wraps her arms around your neck.
Wyll
•When you offer to wash up with Wyll a MASSIVE blush runs across his cheeks
• “Are you sure? ImsurethehornsfreakyououtandtheresbumpsinotherstrangeplacesIdontwantyou-“ he basically starts talking at a mile a minute about how it might be awkward for you
• “Wyll honey, I can just meet you there while you’re already in if that’s more comfortable for you” and you give him a sweet smile and his face goes red AGAIN
By the time you get to the waterfront, you see Wyll propped against a rock, the water resting at waist level with his arms propping him up. You throw him a shy smile. He has a sly grin and nods your way, beckoning you towards him. You twirl your finger and mouth, “Turn around!” He lets out a silent chuckle and turns his head towards the mountains beyond the lake.
You slide out of your evening clothes and grab the soap bar laying on top of your towel. As you wade further into the water you let out a shriek — it wasn’t winter right? Wyll turns around and laughs at the sight; you’re rubbing your arms with chattering teeth. “It is quite frigid tonight, huh? I think I’ve got a cantrip in me for a special someone.”
You look around, bemused, as to how spells could possibly help you out here. Wyll shoots a fireball into the depths of the water, your skin instantly warming up. However, it doesn’t last long as the lake cools back down to freezing. You swim at the speed of light over to Wyll and wrap your arms around his neck. “Sorry, I just need something. By the nine hells you think a blizzard would be rolling through,” you laugh. When you’ve warmed up enough, you take the bar of soap and gingerly begin to wash and lather his hair and horns, kissing the scars across his face.
Wyll looks down at you, surprise slathered across his face as you finish up with his head and move to his broad shoulders, kissing everything infernal you can find. “Tav…you like this?” He brings up a hand to your cheek as you continue your ministrations. You cup water in your hands and gently rinse away the soap on his chest.
“Of course I do, Mizora could make you look fully cambion and I would still have the strongest of feelings for you. You’ll always be my dashing, strong, Blade of Frontiers,” you peck his neck with each last word, and he laughs, kissing your forehead with a soft cherishing smile.
Gale
• When you offer to Gale, he gives you the most devious look you’ve ever seen
• He hasn’t been around others for so long till now, much less bathing with anyone, and he’s grown pretty strong feelings for you so he love love loves this idea
• “My dear Tav I would love to! You know how I enjoy your body after a battle, all the sweat covering your skin and the flush of your cheeks”
• He’s not your quietest companion so everybody does hear this and everybody does let out an exasperated groan
• Your face flushes even further than when you asked him and you squeak out an okay and run to your tent
When you meet up with Gale at the waterfront, his tunic is already off, showing his surprisingly wonderful muscles. He kisses you upon greeting, and helps you out of your evening clothes with a soft caress here and there on every part of your body. You grab your soap and lead him into the water, the water being just warm enough for your plans.
He gathers you into his lap, his cheeks a light red as he grins up at you. You lather the soap and scrub it into his hair, listening to his groans and praises as you work. You kiss his cheeks as you move to his chest, and he finally opens his eyes again, looking up at you with those big round puppy eyes.
“This is surprisingly wonderful. I remember doing things like this for her, running water through her hair and lathering the finest oils onto her skin, but she never once did anything for me.” You stop your work, looking up to his eyes with an expression of shock and sadness. His eyes bore just as strongly into yours, and his thumbs rub circles into your hips.
“Gale… you are worthy of being loved. What she did to you wasn’t right — it never was, even from the beginning if I��m getting my facts straight. She isolated and took from you. I never want you to feel like that with me.” You kiss his cheeks and his hairline, and his lips follow yours, chasing to press them together.
They finally do, and his kiss is filled with eager passion, pouring every thought he’s had about you into you. When you pull away he lets out a soft whine, bringing his hand to your neck. “I’m in love with you, darling. And I know and trust that you feel the same, any need of the tadpole be damned.” You smile and begin to continue rubbing the soap into his stomach, but he stops you. He brings his lips to yours once more, and he rolls you over onto your back in the water, letting you prove how loved he is.
Astarion
• His eyes go soft and round when you ask him
• “Really?? Little old me??” Even after the graveyard and all your reassurances, he’s still moving towards actual coupley things
• “You’ve never wanted a luxurious meal and bath together my love?” You take his hand stroke his fingers with care
• If he could blush he would, but he just sputters with the goblet of wine he has
• He collects himself back into charming mode, “Well then, I thought you’d never ask. Come find me when you’re ready.” He kisses your cheeks and literally just walks off into the woods, leaving you standing at the entrance to your shared tent looking absolutely befuddled
When you find him at the hot spring the camp had discovered last night, he’s already in the water with his eyes closed angling his head towards the night sky. His ears twitch as he hears you begin to take off your evening clothes, and his eyes open to look at you with a rakish smile. “Why hello, my treasure. The water feels amazing.” You smile, grab your soap and head in. Immediately you groan with relief, the hot water soothing the aches from your nasty fight with some undead earlier.
Astarion moves closer to you, taking the most warmth he can get. You bring your arms around his neck and just stay there for a minute. He hugs you back, burying his face into the crook in your shoulder. You fingers lightly stroke against his raised scars in a loving motion, and after his breath hitches he melts into your touch, practically purring as you lavish him with affection. When you pull away his loss of heat is devastating. However, he calms down when you begin to wash his hair, scratching at his scalp and running the hot water over his curls.
“I don’t think I’ve ever let anyone touch my hair like this,” he mumbles. You kiss his cheek and move the bar to his chest and shoulders, working out any aches and pains he might have.
“Well, now you have me my love,” you whisper, kissing the tip of his ear.
“I just can’t believe that after everything you want to stay. The sky is beautiful tonight, but it is all I will ever know once this mindflayer business is said and done with.” His words are bitter, almost as if he is angry with himself.
“It is all we will know my love. And I’m actually quite the night owl. As much as I love our ragtag group, I’m quite introverted around most of society. Everything is fine,” you kiss his bite marks, the hollows of his cheeks, and finally his lips. He kisses you back fervently, pouring care he was never able to show for anyone else previously. You pull away and finish gently washing the rest of his body in silence. As you prop your neck to the side for him, he looks at you with an expression akin to great offense.
“Darling! I thought you knew me well enough to know the bath is never over after only soap.” He waves his hand over to the small crate of oils he’d brought to the spring. “Now, I’m feeling lavender tonight. How about you my love?”
You give him a beaming smile, wading out of the spring to retrieve it. “Sounds wonderful, my heart.”
Halsin
• You don’t even really have to ask him, he’s just joined you most of the time to protect you
• He doesn’t like you venturing out in to the woods by yourself, because Silvanus help him a lot of people are after you guys
• “Of course my heart — Scratch is licking at his paw a bit so I need to inspect that, but I will join you in just a couple of minutes.”
• With an encouraging woof from Scratch, you caress his shoulder and go to collect your things
You’ve stuffed all the stuff needed for the bath into two large bags, your arms making you crouch downward with the weight. As Halsin walks to meet you he sees this, chuckles, and wild shapes into his bear form. He takes the bag handles into his mouth and nudges your leg with his snout. You pet his head and hop onto his back, him letting you ride on it as you both make your way to the water.
On arrival, you hop off and he drops the items into the grass. As his bear form is used most in combat, you grab out a bottle of soap you’d nicked off of that crazy dog handler in Rivington. You drizzle it all over his fur and gather some of the river water into a bucket. You begin scrubbing the soap into his fur, and he lets out cute little groans and growls. When you finish you dump the bucket of water onto him, and he lets out a noise of surprise. He turns back into regular Halsin, his hair soaked down against his head with playful exasperation.
“My heart, you did not need to release the full power of a waterfall onto me I assure you.” You laugh and beckon him into the water. He wades in and smothers you with kisses.
“Halsin please! I need to breathe!” You giggle, pushing at his chest. He finally settles down, pulling you into his lap.
“Thank you for helping me with the shadow curse. Thaniel he… he needed us. He needed you.” He settles into a somber smile, nuzzling his nose against your temple.
You trace your fingers across his chest, leaving kisses that follow. “I knew the lands needed our help, and I’m glad he’s free from the curse. All we have left is this elder brain, and we can go back to the grove and live in peace.”
He tilts your chin up with his hand, and looks tenderly into your eyes. “I would be blessed by Silvanus to spend my thousands of years with you.” He crashes his lips into yours, one of many you’ll share over the passage of time.
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