Gay BG3 One-Shots

A Little Death

Astarion × Male reader

(Count of Monte Cristo AU Pt 2)
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Astarion felt weak and on the brink of death. He'd been stuck inside the damn Chateau d'lf for so long...

"Another day, another week, another month, another year, another day, another night until it's day again..."

The vampire was practically banging his head against the floor, desperate to find something he could do other than pace or grovel.

"The sun has fled, I go to bed and scratch a line on the wall. Another day, where nothing changes at all..."

Astarion grunted as he pushed himself to his feet. He was unsteady and had to lean into the jagged stone wall for support, his eyes fixated on the small barred window high above him.

"And every day shuffles by like the day before; on its way to the blackest of skies."

He glared through the thick bars of iron and directly at the starry night outside. It was taunting him...

"And every day a little death comes and paces the floor."

There'd been an abundance of dead rats from the moment Astarion had been locked inside his little cell. There were even more now, all dessicated and piled in the corner.

They were beginning to reek.

"And a little bit more of me... dies."

The vampire watched mournfully as dawn began to break, making way for a new day of torment.

"Another day, another week, another month, another year, another night I spend alone until it's day again..."

A lively young rat wiggled under the cell door, chittering unpleasantly. Astarion tried to ignore it.

"Our little star has moved away and all the world is a blur."

The pale elf tried to bite back tears that were threatening to fall.

"I only see I am not me without... him."

A shudder ran down his spine, the bitter cold of that damn cell eating away at his flesh. Astarion closed his eyes as he let himself softly slide to the stone floor.

"Every day a little death, for every day... I die. Every day a little death, and still... I know... not why."
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(Y/n) gazed out over the sea, watching for Astarion's return. He couldn't wait to see the pale elf again.

Gortash stood behind him, eyes flitting between the waves and (Y/n).

"He will come back."

The Lord grit his teeth.

"Perhaps, but still..."

"He will return to me. Another prayer!"

He leaned in closer, almost trapping the (race) against the balcony's railing.

"You've got to live for today!"

(Y/n) ignored the Lord. He pushed right past and back into his room, hands clasped over his chest as he daydreamed about Astarion's return.

"I will live when we're together again. Every day, I will pray until then. Amen."

Gortash was getting more and more fustrated by the second. The vampire was out of the picture and yet still managing to get in his way!

"And every day, another prayer will bring him close to me. And every night, our little star we will share."

He had to think of something... fast.

"Then one day when I open my eyes, he will be standing right over there."

(Y/n) gestured back towards the balcony, his smile bright enough to rival the sun itself.

"One day."

Something clicked inside of Gortash's head then. He feigned a melancholy expression as he approached (Y/n) once again.

"Another day."

"There's something I must say... I wanted to protect you."

The (race) was looking (up/down) at him with such innocent eyes. He'd believe anything the Lord told him.

"Another year."

"I wish there was a way I could make it untrue."

He took (small/large) (s/c) hands into his own, squeezing gently in mock sympathy.

"Another day."

"I heard the news today... I fear the worst has happened."

Those (e/c) pools were already filling with a decadent mix of curiosity and dread.

"Another year."

"An accident occurred... Astarion Acunin is dead!"

The (taller/shorter) pulled away from Gortash, eyes wide in anguished disbelief. He looked... utterly destroyed.

The Lord followed him, gathering his trembling form into his arms and burying himself in the (race)'s scent.

His triumphant smirk was easily hidden in (Y/n)'s shoulder while the other clung to him and wept.

"Another year."

"Dead and gone... rest in peace, may flights of angels sing him to his rest."

Gortash pulled away just enough to see (Y/n)'s lovely tearstained face once again.

"Let me hold and help to heal you... every day a little death."

"Every day a little death..."

"Every day a little death."

"Every day a little death."

"Every day a little death..."

"Every day a little death."

"Every day a little death..."