Baldurs Gate Astarion - Blog Posts

Power Or Its Absence?

(4/? part of “Astarion: In Search of True Self” — [masterpost here])

Honestly, it was a bit heartbreaking to see those early moments in the game when Astarion interacts with someone he perceives as powerful or authoritative - like when he asks Tav for blood or later when he approaches Raphael about the scars on his back. He usually puts up that charming, confident mask, but it drops quickly when he's faced with a powerful figure. His whole behavior shifts into more ingratiating - you can see him bracing himself for a punishment.

The way he interacts with authority figures says a lot. That shift from displayed confidence to careful submissiveness highlights the deep-seated fear and survival instinct still living in him. Astarion’s relationship with power is complicated: when you’ve spent two centuries with it used against you, it becomes something you both fear and long for in equal measure. He expects power to be used against him, he fears what those in power can do to him. So when he seeks power it’s not just out of ambition or greed, it’s a way to protect himself from ever being made helpless again.

It makes his relationship with Tav all the more meaningful - because over time he stops needing that mask around them. He starts to learn that he doesn't have to beg, flatter or manipulate to be safe with them.

This is what makes the scene with Araj so important.

Araj treats Astarion like Tav's property - something to trade, to use for her own fun and pleasure. But Tav can choose to deny that and protect Astarion's right to refuse. And later in camp, Astarion thanks Tav for that choice. Clearly emotional, he confesses that no one has ever respected his boundaries before, that he is not used to having the right to listen to his own feelings… but with Tav, he wants to try.

It's a moment that says so much about how vulnerable he is underneath his defenses - how uneasy he feels when pressured or objectified, and how difficult it still is for him to stand up for himself after centuries of being denied autonomy.

It also shows the difference between Tav offering their blood willingly, and a stranger forcing themselves onto him for their own interests. Astarion responds to one with surprised gratitude - and to the other with clear discomfort. It does matter to him how he's seen - as a person or a tool. He longs to be seen for who he is, not what he was made to be. Even when he himself can't always see the difference yet.

One of the most painful moments between Astarion and Tav happens if they fail to truly see him and push him into something he's not ready for, insisting that he just needs to learn to enjoy it. Even if he hesitates, even if he looks uncomfortable, he still agrees because he doesn't know how to say no yet. And he has to learn it the hard way, when afterwards something in him breaks. He looks at Tav and says: "This is all a game to you, isn't it? No matter what I say, it doesn't matter. Not if you get what you want." He admits he couldn't say no before, but now he finally can, and he ends everything between them. It's not a moment of growth, but rather a moment of retreat - shutting down when his hopes of having something genuine were crushed by the very person who ever seemed to care.

Moments like this show how much Astarion is still learning about himself, about trust, about what it means to be free. And how big is Tav's role in that.

We'll come back to that need to be seen later - but for now, it leads us to another significant moment between Tav and the pale elf, one that deserves a post of its own.

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I accidentally caught a moment where Astarion looks at Tav right after making a joke:

Astarion: I don’t know what that toy of her is, but I’m glad it’s on our side.

Close-ups:

Approval check: initiated 😁

On a more serious note:

The joke is for everyone. The smile he’s waiting for is hers.

First Bite

(3/? part of “Astarion: In Search of True Self” — [masterpost here])

Astarion is unexpectedly very honest. You can easily tell when the mask drops - when he’s vulnerable, flustered or confused. He never really hides it from Tav, or at least doesn’t try too hard. It’s always close to the surface.

Even during the vampirism reveal, it felt like Astarion was being too clumsy, almost like he wanted to be caught to see how Tav would react. After that night, he never woke them up again when feeding anymore - don't you think that’s a little suspicious? This similar approach shows up again later in the mirror scene, but I’ll save that for another post.

Well, it is just a theory. But this is part of why I can’t really blame him for trying to get what he needed and slip away. Another reason is that, for usually cautious Astarion, being so desperate most likely meant he reached a point where his blood craving became too unbearable. Maybe he hoped to blame it on some hypothetical vampire lurking nearby (after all, they did find that drained boar)… but he goes for Tav no matter if they've seen the boar or not.

What makes this moment so important is that it gives us the choice to let him drink freely, by our own will, just because he needs it. (It actually reminded me of giving Gale those artefacts to consume - and remember how touched and grateful he was for such trust?)

And of course, this is when the famous "This is a gift, you know" line appears, too. And the fact that he repeated exactly the same words again after such a life-turning event as defeating Cazador only shows just how much this moment meant for Astarion.

There are so many layers to this simple act of sharing your blood: The first time breaking Cazador’s rules. The first time tasting blood from a "thinking creature". The first time being accepted after revealing himself. And all of this with the one person he’s slowly beginning to care about, for the first time.

What I loved is that this might be the moment Astarion saw something different in Tav. I think, at best, he just hoped they wouldn't cast him out. He even admits he would’ve told them he was a vampire earlier if he'd known how open-minded they'd be. But instead, they said yes - without fear or disgust. Like it was nothing. But to him, it was everything.

Bloody Talks Club 🩸

I only discovered this cutscene on a replay, but I think it fits nicely here.

There's a moment not long after that night, where Astarion cheerfully invites Tav to speculate about how their companions' blood might taste - completely theoretically, of course. Personally, I don't mind that kind of talk and even enjoy such thought experiments, but I know it's not everyone's cup of tea.

What's interesting is that Astarion supports any answer you give - unless you shut the conversation down entirely. To me, that says he's just excited to finally have someone to talk with, someone who doesn't judge and maybe even shares his curiosity. Isn't that something we all crave in our own way? I can't help but find it cute!

Same with the scene where he celebrates the bear victory - he rushes to share it with Tav, fully trusting that he can express himself without facing mockery or disgust.

They've got their own little blood club now :]

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I see these wonderful and thoughtful posts about Ascended Astarion that analyze every change of an expression, a choice of words, a slightly softer tone... all to say: "See? He still cares. He still loves us!"

And while I admire the dedication, a part of me can’t help but think that if you have to dig that deep just to prove he still has feelings... maybe the point is that he’s just not quite the same person anymore?..

(don’t get me wrong, I still love reading those analyses, just from the safe and warm embrace of my spawn route, thanks 👀)

Still not over this little stool :3

Getting Closer

(2/? part of “Astarion: In Search of True Self” — [masterpost here])

In my first playthrough, I was worried that if we slept too often, we would all turn into mind flayers, so I went through the Saving the Grove quest almost without resting in camp. Unfortunately, that meant I missed some of the early interactions with companions, including Astarion. That’s also why, when my Tav spent the celebration night with him, she still had no idea he was a vampire.

Honestly… I actually prefer that. It makes the story flow more naturally, in a way. But as with most things in BG3, it works either way.

Why I loved it, though, because it made so much sense for Astarion to want Tav to start getting attached before revealing what he truly is - a vampire spawn. It also meant that the morning conversation was the one where he told more about himself and his past and the conversation felt less rushed and more genuine. But maybe it is my nostalgia speaking.

First Steps

One of the first proper camp dialogues with Astarion happens when he admits Tav is more impressive than he initially thought and says he'd like to keep seeing them as an ally (the Stars cutscene). As always, he's surprisingly honest - so much so that I doubt it can be considered a manipulation.

But this is also where he begins putting his famous "simple plan" into motion: seducing Tav to ensure his own safety. As we established earlier (see Part 1), his main goal is security. So now that he's confident Tav is strong and useful, he starts using the tools he knows best - suggestive charm and witty jokes.

This eventually leads to him inviting Tav to spend time together during the celebration night at camp (or even earlier, depending on approval). That's where the romance seems to begin… or so we think.

Flirting or Strategy?

Even if Tav is already smitten, from Astarion’s side this is manipulation - at least on the surface. You can clearly see and hear how different his behavior is during these moments: too smooth, too controlled. Not like the moments when he's genuine and real - when rough, unkempt words come spilling out of him freely, with wide gestures or a calm, serious demeanor.

Still, even though he later admits that he was trying to make Tav an ally so they wouldn't turn on him, I do believe that even then, he'd already started to care a little, especially depending on the following nuance.

If this conversation happens at the celebration party, approval doesn't actually need to be very high. His motivation there is more about survival after he confirmed once again that it would be better to have Tav on his side. But if you do raise his approval high enough in Act 1, you might get that flirty conversation even earlier - and it runs differently, too. He admits he’s starting to like "the whole package," and says he wants to reward Tav for sharing their blood with him. Not just complaining about boredom and bad wine anymore, huh?

So maybe his motivations start to shift, even just slightly. He might genuinely want to keep Tav near in the only way he knows: giving them what he thinks they want. It can still be part of his strategy, but there's something more complicated beginning to form underneath.

Looking Back

There’s one thing I now feel a little uneasy about. When Astarion first flirts and invites Tav to spend time with him during the party, I chose the dialogue where my Tav teases him a little - she makes him say "please" before agreeing. And when he does, she calls him a "good boy." He actually approves of that line and seems a bit (pleasantly?) surprised that Tav can be so sassy. It felt playful and bold at the time, and I remember how I was like: “Oh! He likes that??”

But after learning about his past… it feels different. Because this was how he survived. His body, his charm - these were tools he had to use. And now it's not just that Tav flirted - it's that she made him beg for it, in a sense, while Astarion was trying to keep himself safe. This thought feels pretty awful.

Still, I try to comfort myself with a few points:

We had no idea at the time!

He did approve of it!

Maybe it showed that Tav wasn't desperate for his body - it was more about their interaction. It felt like she was genuinely enjoying the banter, not just trying to sleep with him.

So… maybe it’s not that bad (^^;)

What Got Me Hooked

To be honest, back then I was still skeptical about Astarion as a love interest. I knew he was a popular character, and I thought he was a bit overrated - mainly because all the media glimpses I'd seen of him were about his very sexualized image. But something about him piqued my curiosity.

By the time he started flirting with Tav, I was already like: "Nooo, stawp~ …nevermind, keep going." Kind of not admitting I was interested even to myself - but still feeling giddy when believing he was "interested" in my Tav. (Which… wasn’t quite true, as we know now.)

But then came the moment after their first night together - my Tav noticed his scars. I expected him to deflect or change the subject, but instead he told her. Honestly and openly. That he was a slave. That his old master left those marks.

That was the moment I felt something shift, noticed his depth. And from there, I really wanted to get to know him better.

(*cough* And that's how my obsession started *cough*)

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The Truth Behind the Mask

(1/? part of “Astarion: In Search of True Self” — [masterpost here])

Even before I played, I kept stumbling upon Astarion fanart and memes that made me assume he was just some overrated character who was only popular because of his flirty, sassy attitude (I’m so sorry Q^Q). That’s why I didn’t have the best first impression even before I started.

And even in-game, when you first meet him, Astarion seems like a shallow, selfish and flirty guy - someone who doesn’t really care what others think and just follows his whims.

Couldn’t be further from the truth!

From what I’ve seen in some discussions on social media, though, a lot of players still hold that first impression - even after completing his route. I’ve even seen people call him a red flag, label him evil or say they were disappointed in general.

Also, I feel like most guides (at least the ones I’ve come across) simplify his character too much - mainly focusing on which choices will gain his approval or disapproval. Maybe that’s to avoid spoilers, but still. There are definitely other players who see the deeper layers too - so this is just my way of sharing my personal journey of discovering the real Astarion.

So, how did that first impression start to unravel? When checking with the guide and watching his reactions and body language, I started thinking about why the approval/disapproval tips work.

How Approval Looks on the Surface

Let’s look at some general tips for gaining Astarion’s approval points: 

choosing evil replies/actions 

seeking power 

siding with evil characters 

deceiving your opponents  

supporting his desires  

being understanding and accepting towards him 

(bonus one, haven’t seen guides mention this) sarcastic replies  

And disapproval points: 

making pompous heroic statements (like “Worry not! I shall save everyone!”) 

helping the weak 

being open about your party's situation (tadpoles)

being judgmental or unsupportive towards him  

naive/goodie-two-shoes responses  

In most cases, it is explained by his natural inclination towards evil forces and power, making Astarion seem like a self-centred and power-hungry vampire who might, with Tav’s influence, turn to become a bit of a better person. Or not. 

But while it’s technically true that those actions affect his approval, there’s much more nuance to why Astarion reacts the way he does - especially in the early stages.

So what's really going on?

The first contradiction that made me feel confused about the reasons for Astarion’s reactions was how nice Tav is being to him (of course, if you chose good replies during their interactions) – a person who is mean to everyone else would be just as mean to Astarion. It didn’t make sense to me; a kind and understanding Tav would fit much better in the story.  

So what is going on there? Why does Astarion need a kind and gentle Tav who is cold and dismissive to the rest of the world?

Because he is terrified.  

When we first meet our pale elf, he has just escaped (as in been kidnapped) from 200 years of slavery, humiliation and torture where his wellbeing completely depended on Cazador’s whims and every mistake meant punishment. Of course he’s paranoid. Of course he’s always calculating risk. 

It’s not about Tav’s choices being good or evil, it’s about their possible consequences for Astarion. He doesn’t want Tav to be evil, he just wants to feel safe. That’s all.  

Let’s Look at That List Again

So let’s look at his approval/disapproval list again: 

refusing to help someone - approve! we don’t want to risk 

seeking power - yes, please! power means safety!

siding up with evil characters - they are strong, so why not use this to our benefit? 

deceiving your opponents - we didn’t even have to fight and got want we wanted? don’t see a problem  

supporting his desires - maybe this time, I won’t have to fight for what I want

being understanding and accepting towards him - finally someone doesn't treat me as a monster

sarcasm - humor is our everything, especially when there’s nothing else left 

On the other hand:

making pompous heroic statements - you are saying these cringe things with a straight face AND putting us in danger? hard nope! 

helping the weak - no one helped me, why should we bother 

disclosing truth about their situation - have you heard about caution?!  

being judgmental or unsupportive towards him - no thanks, had enough of that

naive/goodie-two-shoes responses - are we going to be fine with a leader like that?..  

What Kind of Tav Does He Need?

Astarion isn’t looking for an "evil" Tav - he’s looking for safety. Well, technically, he isn’t looking for anyone at all. But the kind of Tav he opens up to tends to be:

pragmatic, cautious and clever

emotionally intelligent

non-judgmental

strong enough to lead and survive

That’s why he feels comfortable with a Tav who might choose to be distant toward strangers but treats him with consistent care. In this context it’s not suspicious, it’s sensible. He doesn’t expect help from the world, and he respects those who understand that reality. In a hostile world, survival is more likely in a group, so he clings to the party and tries to secure his place using the only tools he knows: charm, wit and usefulness. And a part of that strategy, making sure the leader favors him and he won’t be cast aside, leads to his initial approaches for Tav. But we’ll get into that more in another post.

So if Tav shows kindness to him? That’s exactly what he’s aiming for. And it doesn’t even matter that much if they still go out of their way to help others - because if the care they show him feels real, that already shifts something deep inside. That already gives him a reason to start hoping that this might be real.

The Mask

So there’s the charm, the flirtation, the flair for drama. Some players may read that as shallow or even foolish. But it’s not. It’s a mask - one he’s worn so well and for so long that it feels real. It’s what kept him alive under Cazador for the last 200 years.

But if you keep going, if you give him time and space to feel safe, you start to see it slip. The closer Tav gets to him, the more glimpses we get of his real self - thoughtful and warm, wary and sharp, sometimes silly and awkward, and, beneath it all, deeply hurt. And if you stay with him through to the end, when he finally feels safe enough to stop performing, his whole demeanor changes. He’s calmer. More grounded. Still witty - but in a different way.

Still Astarion. Just more himself.

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Astarion: In Search of True Self

Lately, I’ve been playing Baldur’s Gate 3 for the first time - and I’ve absolutely fallen in love with the game… and the pale elf, of course.

That’s how this character analysis came to life. At the start, I didn’t know much about the game or its world, but I did know that companions were available for romance. So I checked them out before starting, and two characters piqued my interest: Astarion and Gale.

Somehow… I never met Gale in my game (either I didn’t poke that hole in the wall or he just never showed up?), so naturally, I started exploring my options with Astarion.

His romance was described in guides as a bit of a challenge - especially if your Tav is good-aligned and likes helping others. The common conclusion is usually: be evil and he’ll like that.  

I shrugged and decided to try balancing things out. But as I played and got to know him better, that advice began to make less and less sense to me. So I started putting my thoughts into words, hoping to explain why I didn’t agree.

In the end, this turned into something more like a diary - a journey of discovering new sides of Astarion and reflecting on the moments my Tav shared with him.

I hope you will find this analysis/review/Astarion fan diary (?) interesting, even if you don't agree with every part. If that’s the case, please be kind - I poured a lot of heart (and sleepless nights) into this. And if you did feel the same way, I hope this lets you re-experience that journey all over again <3 

Navigation:

The Truth Behind The Mask

Getting Closer

First Bite

Power Or Its Absence?

Reflecting In Their Eyes

The Need To Be Seen

Facing Vampire Spawns

Astarion's Shirt

Softie Underneath

Sharess' Caress

Astarion and Cazador

Ascension Or Not?

Other posts about Astarion (rediscovering missed cutscenes and lore):

The First Night

"Unascended" Astarion

Astarion's Age

Astarion The Elf

Poison Or Dagger?

The Bear Conversation

(This is the initial plan, but it may evolve. I’ll add links to each post as I upload them)

TL;DR: Not a red flag – cinnamon roll with fangs. Handle with care, love and moonlight.

I absolutely love the fact that you can suggest Astarion some herbal tea to help him relax on their first night when playing as a druid

Love my class :3

He seems both touched and amused hehe

A cozy night at the camp 😌

“But just tonight maybe I’ll rest in peace…”

I like this armor design but that silly branch keeps getting in the way 🙈🥲

Still I love these ☺️

Finding good angles is so difficult there but it’s still so fun~

I’m so happy about that little stool Astarion has in his tent :3

Btw Shadowheart also has one!

🌙 When there is no need for words anymore and moonlight shared side by side is enough.

Love how this one turned out 🌖✨

On a search for most romantic places in the city because I have already finished this campaign and the only saves I have are either here on in the Astral Prism

I tried to repeat the same poses like in the last picture from my previous post but in a different setting - it didn’t work quite right but I still like it :3

Just my Tav and Astarion enjoying a peaceful moment in Baldur’s Gate park (someone’s private park but let’s not bring it up 🙈)

My PC wallpapers now✨

Having fun with new photo mode - this screen is just a silly one 🤭💕

Celebrating the new patch with my party from the first campaign :3 Love them! <3

Helloooo! I don’t post here a lot but I just thought I would put out there that I’m doing commissions! I have more info about prices and tos on my carrd! https://ethil101.carrd.co/ so I would really appreciate it if you would consider it! Thank u!

Ethils Commission page

Ethils Commission page

Welcome to my art commissions page!

Astarion X Reader

✨Reader is Horn✨

masterlist

funnily enough, there is no sex in this fic. Just a short drabble of communication.

The campfire crackled under the dim twilight, casting long shadows across scattered bedrolls and worn boots. The air was still thick with the scent of the last skirmish blood, sweat, and a hint of singed hair. Everyone was winding down. You sat cross legged near the fire, arms resting on your knees, deep in thought. Astarion lounged nearby, wine cup in hand, eyes glittering in the firelight. He watched you closely, as he often did, as though trying to read your every thought like a well worn book.

Then, with all the casual weight of commenting on the weather, you announced. “I think I’m going to have sex.”

Silence. Even Lae’zel paused mid sharpen, casting you a side glance. Astarion straightened slightly, eyebrows lifting in both amusement and interest.

“Are we now?” he drawled, setting down his cup. “Well, I’m flattered. Not surprised, of course but flattered.”

You blinked. “What?”

Astarion leaned forward, lips curling. “Darling, there’s no need for coyness. If you need someone to… satisfy your sudden urges, I’d be happy to oblige. Gods know I’ve been waiting for you to finally admit it.”

You stared at him for a beat, then snorted. “Oh. No. I wasn’t talking about you.”

The silence that followed was somehow louder than the last one. Astarion’s smile twitched, just a little. “I beg your pardon?”

You shrugged, nonchalant. “I was thinking… probably Gale.”

Astarion looked like you’d just slapped him with a wet sock.

“Gale?” he repeated, aghast. “You’re choosing the walking arcane lecture over me? That man has more monologues than passion, and his idea of foreplay is a history lesson.”

“He’s sweet,” you said simply, pulling your cloak tighter around your shoulders. “I don’t know. I just feel like I need to get it out of my system. Nothing deep. Just… need to do something irrational for once.”

“Gale,” Astarion muttered again, then let out a sound between a scoff and a laugh. “This is some sort of fever dream. Or perhaps a punishment from the gods.”

You smiled. “Astarion, not everything is about you.”

He grinned back, sharp and wounded. “It should be.”

You stood up, stretching. “Anyway. I haven’t decided yet. Maybe I’ll sleep on it.”

“Oh, by all means, take your time. I’ll just be here, knowing I was passed over for a man who talks more to his floating book than to actual people.”

You gave him a pat on the head like an annoyed cat and turned toward Gale’s tent.

Behind you, Astarion called out, “If he starts reciting poetry during the act, run.”

The fire had long since crackled into glowing embers, its warmth now a quiet hum in the cool night. The camp had settled into silence, the sounds of rustling blankets and steady breathing drifting in from the other tents. Astarion sat alone, still where you’d left him, wine cup now untouched.

He stared into the dark woods, eyes unfocused. He wasn’t thinking about monsters or traps. No. Something far more unsettling had taken root in his mind.

You. You and your ridiculous declaration. You and your infuriating unpredictability. You and… Gale. He scoffed aloud, quiet and bitter. Gale, with his grand words and glowing hands. Gale, who probably asked for consent like it was a spell component.

It doesn’t make sense, Astarion thought, fingers curling slightly at his side. You’re allowed to bed whoever you wish. You owe me nothing. I never claimed to He paused. Frowned.

“Gods,” he whispered into the dark, realization dawning like a slow, creeping horror. “I’m jealous.”

The word felt foreign on his tongue. He almost laughed him, jealous? It was laughable. He’d never needed anyone before. Never cared if someone wandered off after a flirtation, or if they found pleasure in another’s arms. That was the whole point, wasn’t it? Pleasure without consequence. Desire without attachment. But tonight, watching you casually toss aside what he thought was a mutual spark no, knew was had stirred something ugly and unfamiliar in him.

“I don’t get jealous,” he said aloud to the night, trying the words again, firmer this time. “I don’t do jealousy. It’s beneath me.”

But the fire in his chest said otherwise. It wasn’t just bruised ego. That he could handle. He wanted you to choose him. Not out of convenience. Not out of need. But because you wanted him, just him. He leaned back against a log, running a hand through his hair with a low groan. “This is an absolute disaster.”

For the first time in centuries, Astarion wasn’t sure how to play the game. Worse, he wasn’t sure he wanted to play at all. He wanted to be with you. But how the hells did he even begin?

Morning crept into the camp slowly, light spilling over bedrolls and dewy grass. Birds chirped far too cheerfully for anyone’s liking especially Astarion’s. He sat on a rock near the fire pit, legs crossed elegantly, skin glowing like always, and of course he looked amazing. Until you walked out of your tent.

“Well, well,” he drawled without looking up. “If it isn’t the temptress of the Weave herself, back from a night of sonnets and magical satisfaction.”

You stopped mid stretch. “What?”

Astarion turned to you, faux innocence painted across his face. “Oh, don’t play coy. I’m just dying to know how our dear Gale fares in the bedroom. Did he conjure you a glowing review? Perhaps summoned a satisfaction score from the Weave?”

You blinked, then burst out laughing. “Calm down, loverboy. Nothing happened.”

His smirk faltered.

“…Nothing?” he repeated, cautious.

You dropped onto a log across from him, grin wide. “Nope. We talked for like ten minutes, then he got distracted explaining the theory behind dreamscapes and how the mind processes intimacy while unconscious.”

Astarion looked like he aged a century. “Of course he did.”

“I almost fell asleep standing up,” you added. “I think at some point he forgot I was there.”

Astarion made a strangled sound in his throat and tossed a twig into the fire. “Well. I’m sure that was incredibly titillating.”

You rested your chin in your hand, watching him with a glint in your eye. “What’s with the attitude? I said nothing happened. A girl’s allowed to have urges, you know.”

His eyes flicked to yours, fast and sharp. “…Urges?”

You shrugged, teasing. “Yeah. Just figured it was time to get it over with. Stress relief. You know health reasons.”

Astarion narrowed his eyes. “You were going to treat it like a medical appointment?”

“Exactly. Routine check up. The doctor was just… overbooked.”

The vampire groaned and threw his head back. “You’re going to kill me.”

“Mm, maybe I will, we will just have to wait and see unril you stop being jealous.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” he said quickly. Too quickly.

You raised an eyebrow.

“I was… annoyed. That’s different.”

“Mhm. You sure you weren’t picturing Gale putting on a robe and lighting candles while reading me his dissertation on foreplay?”

“I hate how accurate that sounds.”

You chuckled again, leaning back on your hands, eyes on him now with something softer. “You’re cute when you’re bitter.”

Astarion’s gaze flicked toward you again, but this time there was something quieter in it. Something careful. “And you’re a devious minx when you laugh like that.”

“Oh?” you smirked. “Scared I’ll seduce you with my wit?”

He looked away, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“No,” he murmured. “Scared I already am.”

––––You sat cross legged on a blanket just outside the camp, your sketchbook resting against your knees. Gale was beside you, hunched over his own page with careful strokes, charcoal smudged on the side of his hand. It was quiet. You could hear the rustle of paper, the soft exhale of Gale’s breath as he concentrated. Every so often, he would glance at your work, but he never commented unless you did first.

“Is that the Underdark cave?” you asked after a while, tilting your head toward his page.

He smiled, barely lifting his gaze. “It is. Not as foreboding on paper, is it?”

You hummed. “I would say it is still very foreboding.”

“I like it too,” he said, voice quiet.

You looked at him then how the light caught in his curls, how the frown of focus softened his features. There was something incredibly human about Gale in moments like this. Something grounding. Then he set the charcoal aside with a gentle sigh and glanced your way.

“I’ve been meaning to bring something up,” he said carefully. “Last night… when you mentioned what you wanted from me.”

You tensed slightly, setting your pencil down. “Right.”

“I was flattered,” Gale said with a small smile. “Truly. You’re… lovely, and clever, and far more patient than this strange journey has any right to demand. But I want you to know it’s not about you.”

You blinked. “What isn’t?”

“I don’t exactly know my stance on physical intimacy without affection. Not for myself, at least.” His gaze dropped to his hands, fingers lightly dusted with black. “It would feel hollow. Transactional. And I’ve already been part of one dangerous entanglement with shallow roots.”

You were quiet for a moment, then nodded. “I understand. You deserve real love.”

Gale looked up at you again, softer now. “We all do.”

You bit your lip, nodding again. “I respect that. I hope it didn’t seem like I was pressuring you.”

“Dont worry your pretty little head about it. I know. You’re too considerate for that.” He paused. “Which makes it even more baffling how you endure him.”

You blinked. “Who?”

Gale looked toward the center of camp, where Astarion was perched on a fallen log, basking in the sun and pretending not to eavesdrop. “That creature,” Gale said, voice dry. “A walking vanity project, Honestly, it’s like camping with a predatory peacock.”

You snorted.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Gale continued, warming to the roast. “I’m sure he’s quite talented in the dark. centuries of seduction will hone one’s… muscle memory but I imagine it’s about as emotionally fulfilling as being serenaded by a harpsichord made of teeth.”

“Gale.”

“No, really. He pouted for twenty minutes this morning because his hair got flattened during trance. He looked like a drowned cat who couldn’t manipulate the mage hand spell to fix it.”

Astarion glanced over then, voice saccharine: “You’re talking about me again. I must be ravishing to live rent free in the brain of a man who hasn’t even kissed anyone this decade.”

Gale raised a brow. “I’d sooner kiss a gelatinous cube. At least it wouldn’t try to kill me afterward.”

You covered your mouth, barely muffling your laugh. Astarion scoffed but didn’t move. what? he was listening. he couldnt help it.

Gale’s voice softened slightly then, a lilt of sincerity slipping beneath the sarcasm. “But jokes aside… be careful.”

You blinked. “With Astarion?”

He nodded. “He’s clever. Charming. entirely capable of making himself whatever you want him to be until he’s not.”

Your gaze dropped back to your sketchbook, heart thudding.Then, as if to break the weight of it, he chuckled faintly. “Besides, if we’re talking about primal urges, I believe our resident vampire spawn has more than enough… enthusiasm to spare.”

You laughed, leaning your head back. “You think Astarion’s dying to jump my bones?”

“Oh, I know he is. He practically disintegrated when you told him nothing happened between us.”

“He did look like he’d swallowed a lemon.”

“He looked like he’d been given the feast of the century. Honestly before you said anything, I haven’t seen a man so heartbroken since… well, me.” You nudged him with your shoulder, smiling. “But,” Gale continued, quieter now, “just remember there might be someone else who wants that closeness with affection. Someone who might be afraid you’ll offer it to someone else first.”

You turned your head slowly, eyes meeting his. He didn’t say Astarion’s name again. He didn’t need to.for the first time in a while, your heart beat a little faster not from fear, but from the weight of someone else’s longing you hadn’t quite dared to name.

The sun had risen high enough to dry the grass and heat the stones, but the camp was still unusually quiet. Most of the others had wandered off some hunting, some meditating. You were by the water, splashing your fingers across the surface, letting your boots dangle in the current. Astarion’s shadow fell over you before his voice did.

“You know,” he began, casually enough, “I’ve been thinking.”

You looked up. He was standing just off to the side, arms crossed, expression unreadable but his eyes were trained only on you.

“is that new or did you want to share with the class,” you said

He huffed a laugh but didn’t banter back. He just stepped closer, his voice quiet. “Why didn’t you ask me?”

You blinked, confused for a moment. “What?”

He met your eyes now. “When you decided you needed… something. That night. Why didn’t you come to me?”

You turned your gaze back to the water, thoughtful. “Because I couldn’t.”

He tilted his head, studying you. “Couldn’t? Why?”

You were quiet for a long moment. Then, with a breath, you said, “Because I just wanted meaningless sex. Nothing more.” Astarion flinched not outwardly, but in the smallest corner of his expression, in the way his mouth parted like he’d just been stung. “And that’s not something I could ever have with you.”

You turned to face him now, fully. “Out of everyone in this camp… you’re my best friend. Like, yes, I care about the others. Gale’s a good man. I trust him, I do. But the bond I have with him it’s not like what I have with you.”

Astarion stood there, silent.

“With you,” you continued, voice softer now, “I can’t turn it off. I can’t just pretend it’s only physical. You’re not a passing urge. You’re the person I go to when I can’t sleep. You’re the one I want near me when things go wrong. You’re the one I trust when I don’t trust myself.” He blinked slowly, like the words didn’t quite register at first.

“And if we crossed that line,” you added gently, “I don’t think I could ever call it meaningless. Not with you. Not even if I tried.”

The air felt still around you, like the world was holding its breath. When Astarion finally spoke, his voice was rough around the edges. “I think you just ruined every one of my excuses for why I’m not already in love with you.”

You gave him a smile, wide eyed surprise. He sat down next to you without asking, his shoulder brushing yours. “I’m not saying I am,” he added quickly. “But if I were… that would’ve made it a lot worse.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head on his arm. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“…No, I’m not.”

ू(ʚ̴̶̷́ .̠ ʚ̴̶̷̥̀ ू) Like Real People Do

Astarion Ancunín X Reader

Synopsis- how do you both really understand each other. Why can’t you love like real people do

“I know very little about this man, but as a devoted lover of Hozier, this song made me think of him….. Oh, did you see me complaining the other day about all Astarion fics being the same? Shut up and read the story. I know you all will still read it, you desperate whores.”

ू(ʚ̴̶̷́ .̠ ʚ̴̶̷̥̀ ू) The night was cool, the stars burning quietly above as the two of you sat a little away from the camp. The others were asleep, but you knew Astarion wouldn’t be resting at least not yet. He never truly let himself rest, even when his body was still.

The firelight flickered across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the way his red eyes seemed almost golden in the dim glow. But there was something dark lingering in them tonight, something unspoken that had been clawing at him for days.

“I had a thought, dear,” he murmured, his voice soft but carrying an edge of something wary, almost sharp. “However scary.”

You turned to him, sensing the shift in his mood. “Tell me.”

His fingers twitched where they rested on his knee, as if he were debating whether to reach for you or not. He didn’t. Instead, he exhaled, gaze fixed on the fire.

“About that night,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “The bugs and the dirt. Why were you digging?” His eyes flicked to yours, searching, unsure. “What did you bury before those hands pulled me from the earth?”

You swallowed, understanding what he meant what he was truly asking.

You had found him, once. Broken, lost, a ghost of a man forced into survival. You both after the ship were so lost. You had reached for him without hesitation, pulled him from the dark, and given him something he still didn’t fully understand. But what had you sacrificed to do so?

You sighed, your fingers curling in the fabric of your sleeve. “Maybe… maybe I buried the part of me that thought I could walk this world alone.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “That’s a poetic way of saying you were already broken.”

You frowned at that. “I never said I was broken.”

“No?” His head tilted slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. “Then why? Why care for me, of all people?” He let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “I’m not some tragic hero in a story. I am selfish. I am cruel when it suits me. And I was. am. a man made into a monster. You should have left me in that grave.”

His voice cracked on the last word. He hadn’t meant for it to, but it did.

You reached for him then, slowly, giving him time to pull away if he wanted to. He didn’t. Your fingers found his, cool and trembling, and you held them tight.

“I care for you,” you said, voice steady, “because I see you.”

His breath hitched.

“You are not just what he made you,” you continued. “Not to me.”

Astarion turned his face away, as if your words were something sharp he couldn’t bear to touch. His throat bobbed, his fingers tightening around yours.

“You make me feel real,” he whispered, as if confessing a sin. “And I hate it.”

You exhaled a quiet laugh, squeezing his hand. “That’s alright.”

He turned back to you then, something vulnerable and raw in his eyes. “You’re alright with loving a man who doesn’t know how to love himself?”

You smiled, shifting closer until your foreheads nearly touched. “I think that’s why I love you, Astarion. Because I want to show you how.”

His breath shuddered against your skin. For the first time in centuries, he let himself believe.

Astarion was quiet for a long time. The fire crackled between you, but his fingers remained tangled with yours, his grip just tight enough to keep him tethered to the moment. You could feel it the weight of everything he wasn’t saying, the ghosts of centuries clinging to him like a second skin.

He had told you pieces of his past, but never all of it. And you had never asked. You watched the way his jaw tensed, how his shoulders curled inward as if bracing for something inevitable.

“I will not ask you where you came from,” you murmured.

His head turned slightly, red eyes flickering toward yours in quiet surprise.

“I will not ask you,” you repeated, voice gentle but firm. “Neither should you.”

He exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Something in him loosened, something old and afraid.

“You don’t want to know?” His voice was almost cautious, as if the question itself was foreign to him.

You shook your head. “I want to know you. Not the things you were forced to do. Not the chains that bound you. Just you.”

Astarion swallowed hard. He had spent so long believing he was only what had been done to him, that there was nothing else nothing worth salvaging. But here you were, sitting beside him, holding his hand as if he were someone worth touching.

As if he were someone worth loving.

Slowly, his free hand lifted, brushing over your knuckles. A hesitant, unfamiliar gesture. His eyes studied the way your fingers curled into his, as if trying to understand why you weren’t pulling away.

“I don’t know who that is,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know who I am without, without him.”

You squeezed his hand, grounding him. “Then let’s not look back. Let’s just be here. Now.”

Astarion let out a soft, shaky laugh, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, there was something lighter in them something fragile but real.

“Here. Now.” He tested the words, as if rolling them over in his mind. Slowly, carefully, he let his head rest against your shoulder.

For the first time, Astarion let himself exist without expectation, without past or future. Just here. Just now. with you.

The fire had burned low, glowing embers casting long shadows across the ground. Astarion still leaned against your shoulder, unmoving, his fingers still curled around yours. He felt real like this warm, tangible, not just some fleeting ghost of a man lost to time.

And yet, something lingered in his eyes when he finally looked at you. Something raw.

“I knew that look, dear,” he murmured, voice hushed in the stillness of the night. His red eyes searched yours, sharp and knowing. “Eyes always seeking.”

You parted your lips to respond, but his fingers cold, careful lifted to trace along your jaw, silencing you.

“There was someone once, wasn’t there?” His voice was softer now, almost gentle. “Someone you buried long ago.”

Your breath hitched.

He tilted his head, his eyes flickering over your face, studying every shift in your expression. “So I will not ask you why you were creeping,” he murmured. “In some sad way, I already know.”

Your throat tightened. Because he was right.

Maybe you had found him in the dirt, broken and lost, because some part of you had been buried there too. Maybe you had seen your own ruin in the ghost of a man clawing his way out of the earth.

But none of that mattered now.

Not when Astarion was here. Not when his hand slid from your jaw to your cheek, his touch trembling but sure. Not when his breath mingled with yours, and his eyes softened in a way you had never seen before.

“Honey,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours. “Just put your sweet lips on my lips.”

His lips barely brushed yours hesitant, uncertain. A question more than a kiss.

And you answered.

You pressed forward, slow and deliberate, your fingers tangling in his curls as you pulled him closer. Astarion inhaled sharply against your mouth, his other hand gripping your waist as if anchoring himself to the moment. He kissed you like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to, like he was still waiting for the moment you would realize he wasn’t worth this kind of tenderness.

But you didn’t pull away. Instead, you kissed him like you had all the time in the world. Like he was someone worth keeping.

quiet and still, save for the soft crackle of dying embers and the distant rustle of leaves in the wind. The world felt small in this moment just you, Astarion, and the fragile space between you.

His fingers lingered against your cheek, cool as marble, trembling ever so slightly, as if he still wasn’t certain you were real. As if he wasn’t certain he was real.

You watched the way his expression shifted, the war within him written across every furrow of his brow, every flicker of doubt in his crimson eyes. There was a time when he might have masked it all behind a teasing smirk or a well-placed quip, a time when he would have used charm as a shield. But here, now, he let himself be bare before you. No pretenses. No games. Just the truth of him, laid out in the fragile press of his lips to yours.

And gods, how fragile he was beneath it all. How much he had been taught to believe he was unworthy of this, of you.

His forehead stayed pressed against yours, his breath shallow. He didn’t speak for a long time, only let his fingers trace idle patterns over the back of your hand. Then, so softly it was almost lost to the night, he whispered, “I’ve never had this before.”

You swallowed, your grip on him tightening. “Had what?”

His gaze flickered up to meet yours, something raw gleaming beneath the firelight. “something that meant something.”

You felt your heart twist at that, at the quiet pain woven into his words. The idea that a touch so simple, so human, could feel foreign to him. That intimacy had always been a transaction, never a gift.

Astarion let out a breath, shaking his head. “I spent centuries pretending I had control. That I was the one taking, the one winning. But I wasn’t, was I? I was just…” He trailed off, his fingers curling into his palms. “I was nothing. I felt like nothing.”

You cupped his face then, guiding his gaze back to yours, refusing to let him slip into the past. “You are not nothing, Astarion.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “And yet, I still don’t know how to be something.”

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” you murmured.

His lips parted, as if to argue, but whatever words he meant to say withered before they could form. Instead, he just… looked at you. Like he was seeing something new, something terrifyingly unfamiliar. A possibility he had never let himself hope for.

He exhaled a small, shaking laugh, leaning into your touch. “Gods, listen to me. You kiss me once and suddenly I’m a blubbering mess.”

You smiled, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone. “I don’t mind.”

He huffed, but there was no real annoyance behind it. Only something softer. Something aching.

Astarion shifted, his body relaxing against yours, his head once again resting on your shoulder. This time, though, it was different. He wasn’t just leaning on you. He was allowing himself to be held.

The fire dwindled further, shadows stretching long and deep. But you stayed like that, with your fingers tangled in his, with the slow, steady rise and fall of his breath against your skin.

For the first time in centuries, Astarion let himself be vulnerable without fear.

For the first time in centuries, he let himself stay.

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