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#astarion gn!reader
spacebarbarianweird · 4 months
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Alright fic request! (Either reader or named Tav, whatever sparks joy.)
I HC that since Baldurs Gate has such a low population of elves, a lot of Astarion's previous sexual experiences did not involve his ears. They are probably the least "used" (his feelings) part of himself.
Maybe Tav isn't an elf and doesn't know, so they eventually just casually reach out- because they are so cute and Astarion's been OK with casual touches like that now they are in a relationship. But he just flinches away- very uncomfortable and hurt this happened.
Tav is obviously going to apologize and try to accept they hurt Astarion by mistake. Maybe not that night, but sometimes later after Astarion got to see them be sincere about his boundaries (maybe even OK woth him having a "bad" reaction) he puts his head in their lap and asks them to touch his ears in a quiet voice.
Basically a story about navigating rough waters with love.
I finally got to your request! I know it's been a while, thank you for waiting!
Synopsis: Astarion has very sensitive ears, you've never touched them. Until today.
Tags: fluff, Elven language and culture.
Thanks @bunnidarling for beta-reading! Your notes are super helpful!
Read on AO3
Masterlist
Headcanons
Pointy Ears
Moon washes the meadow in silver light. As he sits by the campfire, Astarion's skin looks almost marble to you: white and perfect. You glance at him from time to time to detect a hint of disturbance, that his mind has dragged him to some unpleasant place.  
But it seems like he is at peace with himself.
His pointy ears twitch a bit when invisible facial muscles move. They’re probably your favorite part of his body: long and sensitive, with a delightful pinkish hue. The elves, Tel’Quessira, have the most amazing ears. 
But you suddenly realize you’ve never touched them. You often massage his scalp and have kissed almost every inch of his body, but the ears remain untouched.
The scars and the bite mark? It took months for him to relax enough to let his guard down. You still remember him muttering “Tav loves me, Tav won’t hurt me” while you were caressing his back. You pretended you didn’t hear that. As for the more intimate parts of his body, you two agreed on an “ask before putting a hand into the trousers”.
But his ears… You are a non-elf, a lesser being in the eyes of elves, and know nothing about them. But you remember how many years ago someone told you “Never touch their pointy ears, they hate it”.
“Astarion.”
Silence. 
“Astarion, are you with me?”
Silence yet again. He looks somewhere into the woods, mentally far away from your small camp. Suddenly, his eyes squint and you see anxiety on his face.
Nine hells, again. 
It happens to him often. He just sits motionless as if someone has cast a “hold a person” spell on him. He can stay like that for hours oblivious to the world around him. As if his mind shuts itself down. Sometimes he returns, surprised it’s already sunset “I thought it was still morning”, he says.
He describes it as a dark wave that just pulls him under into the nightmare, and he can’t do anything, only to keep drowning.
You approach Astarion and sit behind him. Then you touch his curls, slowly brushing them with your finger.
“I am here. I am not going anywhere,” you whisper. “Return to me, please.”
No response. 
You keep caressing his head, intensifying your touches as you try to return him to reality.
And then your fingers accidently brush along his left ear.
Astarion flinches, forcing you to take your hands away.
“I am sorry,” you mutter.
Astarion covers his ear with his palm and stares at you in shock. He looks like a person who has been woken up in the middle of the night in some weird and violent way.
“Did I hurt you? I am so sorry!”
“No… you didn’t…” He still looks startled. “I just… Seldarine… How long have I been like that?”
“Since sunset. It’s almost the middle of the night.”
He snatches his shirt from the ground and puts it on. You still feel guilty.
“Sorry… I won’t touch your ears again.”
“Darling, you’ve touched me in much more intimate places and done much more lewd things to my body than this.”
You blush.
“It’s just… unexpected.”
“I am sorry.”
“Stop it! I hate it when you apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s just… Fuck it. I want to take a walk.”
You nod. “Take a walk” means “I want to wander the woods on my own''. Sometimes he hunts small animals and drains them dry. More often he just walks enjoying the freedom of being in nature. Even a person who loves cities would go insane, forced to spend 200 years within its walls.
You are still embarrassed by your actions, so you return to the tent. You are feeling sleepy and doze off on your bedroll hugging a pillow. 
You wake up a few hours later when Astarion returns to the tent. His shirt is bloodstained and his trousers are dirty, but he looks happy.
“Good morning, darling”, he kisses you. “It’s sunrise, time for the mortals.”
“Unless they travel with vampires,” you mumble as you sit up, feeling more or less rested. “I see you are in a good mood.”
“I am always in a good mood when I see your face, my dear.”
You scoot over, making more room for him. The tent is small but enchanted with darkness which fully protects Astarion from the sunlight. You would love to spend a couple of days in the inn, but the nearest town has no such place and you have to stay at the camp.
“Listen… about what happened…” He stumbles over his words. “Could you touch my ears?”
You giggle and invite him to sit between your legs. He presses his back against your chest and you wrap your arms around his body.
“You have leaves in your hair,” you say, brushing his curls with your fingers before kissing the crown of his head. “How sensitive are your ears?”
“Very sensitive, he admits. “That’s why… I… we… don’t like unwelcome touches.”
You carefully touch the tip of his left ear, then move your finger along the edge of the shell. 
He closes his eyes and smiles.
You get braver and use your other hand to caress his right ear. You lean forward and kiss the tips, and as you do you feel an electric impulse coarse through Astarion's body.
“Why don’t you wear any adornments? You like rings and necklaces, but all the elves I have ever seen wear something on their ears. I mean, I understand why Tel’Quessir don’t pierce them…”
“Darling, never suggest to pierce the ears of the elf, it’s fucking painful.”
“But are there other ways? Without damaging the skin?”
He shrugs. “Never found anything proper I guess.”
He softly touches your finger and you understand he’s signaling you to stop. You press Astarion tighter. 
You sit like that for a while in silence before you make yourself return to reality.
“I need to go to the town to see if they have some job for us.”
“I doubt it. We’d better return to the road at sunset,"he said.
“Yeah, this place is unbelievably peaceful.”
“I would say boring”, he takes out a book from his sack and you recognize Gnim, the language of the gnomes. Noticing your stare, he chuckles. “I prefer to know the enemy.”
You kiss Astarion’s cheek and leave the tent.
The town looks sleepy as if its residents exist in some weird world without troubles and worries. The townsfolk look at you with suspicion. Adventurers are rarely guests since there's almost nothing to do. 
You ask here and there about a job, but as Astarion said there is nothing to be found. No troubles. No dangers. No reward. 
Suddenly something catches your eye: a small building different in style from the rest of the houses. It is more elegant, with intricate runes on the wooden door.
Elven. 
You enter carefully, opening the door as if you are afraid you may break it, 
It’s a Jewelry store.
There are dozens of rings, necklaces, and bracelets. They are simple and delicate, but you just can’t take your eyes off them. 
“Do you want anything?” A golden-haired elven woman waves her hand over the adornments. “Maybe for yourself?”
You shake your head. “I wouldn’t want to wear such things on the road. I will either break them or lose them.”
“Pity. Maybe for someone you care about?”
Astarion would love something like that. No matter what happened to him, he is still an elf. Nothing will ever change it.
“Yes...” You say with some hesitation. “What do elves put on their ears?”
The woman smiles. “We wear ear cuffs. Like these”, she points at her own ear, showing a golden adornment that looks like flowers. “You want a gift for an elf, don’t you?”
You nod.
“Can I ask what kind of bond you share?”
You blush a bit and the elf smiles again. “It’s not an idle question. Elven culture is very complicated”.
“He is my… love.”
She points at the ear cuffs. “Then, this. Only lovers can give such things to each other. Received from a friend or, worse, a stranger, would be considered an insult.”
“Why so?”
“Oh, poor N'Tel'Quess. So bad of him not to tell you such important things.”
You pretend not to understand that the word she’s used is an insult. You speak some Elven.
“And how important is that?”
“Have you wondered why elves don’t like their ears being touched?”
“Because it hurts?”
Her laughter sounds like bells chiming. “The same way lovemaking hurts when nonconsensual.”
Fuck.
“It’s intimate. Even lovers sometimes don’t do it because they don’t fully trust each other. We allow this only to our aestara, our thiramina.For us, it’s a form of sex. But even regular sex might be less intimate. So, tell me, does he allow you to do that?”
“He did let me do this… today. For the first time. ”
“Then, give him an ear cuff. Choose.”
They all look equally beautiful and you try to picture Astarion wearing them but nothing is quite him. There are smaller and larger ones, golden and silver. Some resemble flowers, and some are more like stars.
Noticing your confusion, the shopkeeper sighs.
“Tell me about him.”
“He… is very kind. To me, at least. Very brave, but never admits it even to himself. He is smart, can learn a whole new language within a week, and can persuade people to do anything he needs. He can do a lot of things with his hands – embroidery, lock picking, you name it. But… he’s been through a lot. His past is very dark and he is still overcoming it, learning how to be with people, how to live this life.”
You carefully avoid details, trying to sound as vague as possible.
“It’s called srinna. The one who tests limits and establishes new boundaries.”
“Yes, it does sound like him”
The woman hands you a metallic ear cuff. It is simpler than the others but you notice small details like crescents and birds. It will look nice with his curls, you think.
You pay and as you leave the elf laughs again. “If I were you, I would scold him!”
You return to the camp at sunset. Astarion is still inside the tent engrossed in the book. He hasn’t been through too many pages. Gnim is difficult for someone who can’t stand its speakers.
Astarion smiles joyfully as he notices you. He always looks like this when you return. Pure happiness.
“So was I right about these peaceful people?”
“Yes. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why didn’t I tell you what?”
“About your ears! The elven jeweler gave me a lecture about them! You could have at least explained this to me before I embarrassed myself!”
He disarms you with his puppy eyes. They say: ‘Oh, darling, you can’t be really angry with me, can you?’
“Stop making that face. You know I can’t resist it!”
Astarion sighs. “My apologies. Never really took it into account. But yes, touching ears is a form of showing affection.”
You take out the ear cuff and hold it out to him “I’ve brought a gift for you.”
Astarion puts the book away and takes the cuff. He is silent and you are afraid he doesn’t like it.
“Srinna”, he says. “The one who establishes boundaries. Thank you”, Astarion doesn’t try to laugh it away or mask his emotions. His smile is goofy and sincere; he rarely shows it even to you.
“Put it on!” you encourage him. “I want to see how it looks!”
“You’ve given it to me. You must put it on, not me.”
You lean to Astarion and carefully adjust the adornment to his left ear. To your surprise, it fits perfectly and doesn’t show any indication it can fall off. You think it must be easier to lose regular earrings than elven cuffs. 
“How does it look?” he asks.
“Gorgeous.”
He cups your cheeks and kisses you. You feel like floating, forgetting about everything. You touch his ears and caress them with your fingers. Then he lets you go and presses his forehead against yours. “Salen arivae.”
“Salen means ‘my’, what does “arivae” mean?”
“Sunshine”, he answers after a short pause. 
--
Seldarine - Gods! N'Tel'Quess - not people. A derogatory term referring to non-elves. Aestar- love Thiramin - soulmate
--
Tag list
@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati
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coffeeanddonutscafe · 2 months
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Introspection
Summary:
Astarion trying his best to work out his inner turmoil, and the growing genuine feelings he has for Tav.
MY AO3 - Luna-Noya-Na
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In the soft glow of the campfire's dancing flames, Astarion sat perched upon a weathered log, his figure partially cloaked in shadow. The flickering light cast intricate patterns of illumination upon his features, accentuating the sharp angles of his face and the elegant curve of his collarbone. His normally aloof countenance bore the weight of contemplation, a trace of vulnerability evident in the furrow of his brow and the slight downward tilt of his lips.
He couldn't help himself... Astarion's gaze lingered on Tav, his thoughts swirling in a tangle of emotions he hadn't quite anticipated. It was all too unfamiliar, long forgotten… like the smooth rhythm of a beating heart he once had. Now dead and unmoving in his chest.  He had always prided himself on his detachment, his ability to keep his distance and protect himself from getting too close to anyone.
But Tav was different, and that scared him more than he cared to admit.
The nights spent together, the battles fought side by side, and the moments shared in the quiet corners of the camp had all woven a connection between them that he couldn't ignore. The more time he spent with her, the more he felt his walls crumbling, brick by brick. 
As he watched Tav, he couldn't help but marvel at the strength and determination that seemed to radiate from her. She was unlike anyone he had encountered before, a captivating blend of courage and vulnerability. He found himself drawn to her presence, her laughter becoming a melody that resonated deep within him. Yet, with each tender moment they shared, a surge of panic gripped him. The vulnerability he felt around her was unsettling, leaving him exposed in ways he had always avoided.
Astarion's internal battle raged on. There was a shadow of doubt that whispered in the back of his mind. The curse that bound him, the thirst that gnawed at his insides, it was a reminder of the darkness that dwelled within him. 
His chest clenched with a mixture of desire and trepidation. He yearned to confess his feelings, express his remorse, and articulate all the emotions wriggling havoc in him. He wanted to bridge the gap that seemed to widen with each passing day, yet the fear of rejection and the fear of hurting her held him back.
He feared that by letting himself fall for Tav, he might also expose her to that darkness, to a side of him that he desperately wished to keep hidden. That side of him, tainted, abused, tortured by years of servitude to Casador.
Yet, as he observed the way Tav interacted with their companions, the kindness she extended to even the most unlikely allies, he couldn't help but wonder if she might see past his affliction. Maybe, just maybe, she could be the light that tempered the shadows within him. It was a battle within himself, a struggle to come to terms with his emotions and to decide whether he was willing to risk his own heart, and Tav's, for a chance at something he had never allowed himself to have.
Astarion knew that the path ahead was fraught with danger, for them and for their entire world. 
Lost in his thoughts, Astarion's gaze remained fixed on Tav. At that moment, all he could focus on was the person before him and the unspoken connection that seemed to grow stronger with each passing day. The campfire's dance continued, a silent witness to his introspection, as he navigated the delicate thread that connected his past to an uncertain future.
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lovrspell · 2 months
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Astarion not being used to someone that cares for his pleasure as much as you do.
warnings: 18+, fluff, breeding kink if you squint, aftercare, overstimulation, settled early in the relationship. reader is gn!
word count: 1,4k
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Astarion that, guiding you through your climax with slow drags of his hips, flinches when you pull him into a leg lock and wrap your arms around him the same way a koala does to a tree trunk. That is when you realize, even through your blurry vision and confused senses, he was about to pull out of your sex before he could reach his own peak.
He always does this, but this time you wouldn't let him. He has the right to enjoy the moment the same way you do.
You've thought that he does it simply because he prefers to finish up alone with his own hands, as he had done in front of you numerous times before; but you were wrong.
The truth is, he doesn't even think about it. He focuses on your pleasure, neglecting his own and even edging himself way more than he probably enjoys for the sake of your orgasms; accustomed to this way of things, as it has always been him pleasing other people that most of the time never gave his pleasure more than a elusive thought, it comes natural for him to bring you to ecstasy and not worry about enjoying his own too much.
You shouldn't blame yourself for not realizing it sooner, though. After all, your romantic journey has just recently started.
He admits, he was pretty startled at first; the sudden movement had shook him out of his own trance-like state, focused on the sensations. That dazed, imploring look that he's so used to when he buries himself deep inside you meets his own eyes, and his muscles soften again.
You're gasping and panting, but despite that you manage to whisper to him,
“Stay with me. You're not done yet, are you?”
He's surprised. He didn't even understand why, honestly. Maybe, he didn't expect you to worry about that; everyone is greedy in regards of their pleasure, right?
...But not you.
In the end, it makes sense. You love him. It should be obvious that you care about his pleasure too.
However, he's not even familiar to that bare minimum.
His hips falter and he loses focus for a moment, before shaking his head ‘no’.
He felt your legs loosen around his hips so you could slide your hands over his waist, your grip gentle and reassuring. You give his flesh an encouraging squeeze before beginning to guide his hips towards your throbbing entrance.
Astarion gasps softly, his lips parting in delight as he makes no further effort to move his hips on his own: he lets himself be guided by you, melting away in ecstasy.
He can't help but notice the fact that your thighs are shaking, though. He sees tears in the corners of your eyes, the way you bite your lip nervously, the way you try to hold back whimpers and consequently inhale sharply every once in a while.
This is too much for you.
You're far beyond your climax and it wasn't even the first one: you're oversensitive, yet you push his hips towards yours with determination because you wish for him to finish with you, inside you.
“I-... I can stop if you want me to,” Astarion murmurs, strangely aroused by that realization that had just occurred in his mind.
“No... No. Just tell me when you're close.” you reply immediately, showing no hesitation nor willingness to stop this.
Just because it's too much, it doesn't mean it doesn't feel good for you. Well, maybe it's just too good, actually. Astarion hears you curse under your breath as you struggle to keep your grip firm on him, and decides to regain control, adjusting himself more comfortably between your legs. He grabs your waist and starts thrusting into you in a pace of his own; he's shaking, his eyes closed as he falls into a state of pure bliss in which he's neither too far nor too close to his orgasm.
He feels your hands slowly snake towards his along your own body. Your fingers intertwine around his and as he absentmindedly looks up at your face, he catches your lips curl in a small smile. A smile that, printed on your pleasure-contorted face, is a view that manages to make his cock twitch as he fucks you.
You're happy. You're happy because he's climaxing inside you, thanks to you, thanks to your touch and your wet and warm and inviting walls clenching around him —
He's with you. He's still there.
Before he could ask why you're smiling, his hips falter again and he feels a sweet shiver run down his spine. He's close, so deliciously close.
“Ah,” he whimpers, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth and chewing on it. His brows furrow and he closes his eyes tightly. His back arches towards you and he leans in without thinking, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He trembles and he mumbles your name in your ear, over and over, hips chasing a relentless rhythm. Your own whimpers fill his ears as you arms wrap around his back, holding him close; it's so much, but you're willing to handle it for him. He has brought you to multiple orgasms in a single round several times, it's not like you're not used to it.
Next, his hands clutch your hips tightly and he groans as your walls clench tightly around his cock, sucking him in as if urging to not pull out. He welcomes that invitation.
Sloppy sounds, gasps and growls of excitement fill the room as, with one last hard, deep thrust he releases his cum inside you. He freezes, keeping his cock buried there — as deep inside you as possible, making you take every last drop of his semen.
Your walls tighten around him, your sex swells once more, but you don't reach another orgasm. That's fine, you think. Your focus is on Astarion and Astarion only.
He pulls back from your neck to rest his forehead against your own. He growls lowly as the pleasure dies down, a guttural sound that echoes through your being.
You've never seen him like this after any of his orgasms — and you've seen quite a few by now. He looks like he's in pure bliss, eyes half lidded and lips curved in a lazy smile. He's in heaven, you can tell. It's a good look on him.
“How do you feel?” you ask him, voice velvety and calm as you cradle him in your arms.
He doesn't pull out of you, rather stays perfectly still to not bother your tired, swollen sex — but he wants to cherish the feeling of your warmth hugging his cock a little longer.
You're fiery, both inside and out. It feels sublime.
“Mh.”
That's how you know it felt good.
“Mhm,” you echo him, nudging his forehead with yours and taking advantage of the closeness to steal a kiss from him.
“I truly cannot understand why I've never done this before.” he confesses, his voice an intimate whisper reserved to you and you only. He leans into you, pressing your sweaty bodies together.
“What? Come inside me?” you laugh quietly, moving a few wild curls away from his vision.
“Exactly that, love.”
“I guess it's better late than never.”
“You felt so good it's criminal I've never even gave it a thought.” he continues, giving you a sloppy kiss and letting his lips linger on your own for a bit longer, before he trails his mouth down your neck.
He prints tiny wet kisses all the way down your collarbone. You chuckle: it tickles a bit.
Although lying in his fluids combined with yours felt divine beyond comprehension and you didn't like the thought of putting off cuddling in bed until later at all, you had a tiring day ahead of you after tonight. It was already late: you have to settle down for the night. You have to sleep and, well, he might do for some meditation, or he could spend the night watching you sleep. A bit unsettling, but you've grown used to it.
“...Let's go take a bath, come on.” you whisper in his ear after a few moments of silence and, although the sigh against your skin lets you know that he wants to stay like this a little longer too, he gives a hum of approval.
After all, he doesn't care where he is as long as he can bask in your embraces.
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astarion-approves · 8 months
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More than sex.
Astarion x gn! Tav
"You’re telling me, that you.. would pass on a night of… meaningless, fantastic, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mind blowing sex… for love?”
“Yes.”
Rating: Mature (for the subject but no actual sex or smut in any way shape or form.) Tags: Demisexuality, demisexual Tav, Demisexual Reader, No Smut, gn! Reader, Slight spoilers, Act One spoilers, Developing Relationship, Developing Friendships, Drabble, short and sweet, Confessions
Ao3 or keep reading below:
-----------------
“I’m just looking for a little more excitement. A little more fun.”
Tav considered these words, anytime they saw Astarion having ‘fun’ was on the battlefield. Either stabbing his way through anything that stood before him, or sneaking up behind them and slitting their throat before they could even scream. “And what’s your idea of ‘a little fun?’”
Astarion smiled, taking a sip of his cheap wine before speaking, “By the hells. Sex, my dear. A night of passion.” 
“Oh.”
“Oh, indeed. So, how about—“
“Shadowheart is free.” Tav looked over their shoulder to where she stood by her own tent where she fiddled with a bottle of wine attempting to open it with slow hands. 
“Wait, what—“ Astarion shifted to look past Tav to where she stood, the woman catching his gaze and glaring in return. 
“And she’s really pretty too,” Tav offered. 
“I’m not interested in hearing her praise her goddess tonight.” 
“Well, there’s also Lae’zel—“
Astarion shook his head. “I think she would rather behead me before she would ever bed me.”
“Halsin is available too—“ The Druid elf was handsome, and such a powerful one at that but before Tav could even finish, Astarion cut them off.
“Tempting, but not the one I’m interested in.” 
“Gale—“
“No.” 
Tav hummed, putting their hands on their hips as they scanned the rest of the camp. There were many others, but most were already too drunk to even remember their own names. “I can’t think of anyone else.” 
“There’s always you, darling.” 
“Me?” Tav snorted a laugh. Surely he must have been joking. Of all the people that Astarion could have… Tav would personally put themselves at the bottom of the list. 
“Yes, you. It’s not everyday someone like yourself would be propositioned by someone like me, and this may be your last opportunity—“
“No thank you.” 
“No?! What do you mean ‘no’?!” Astarion was shocked, his hands jumping to his chest as if Tav had stabbed him directly in the heart. 
Tav grimaced, the way that Astarion’s face dropped, the hurt that filled his eyes so quickly… “Look, I’m not… rejecting you—“
“Sure sounds like rejection to me—“
They shook their head. “I need to be in love first… before I can…” Tav lifted their hands, gesturing towards Astarion in a weak display of trying to find the words and failing. “Don’t get me wrong… you’re- you are breathtaking, Astarion. The most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on—“ 
“Yes, I know. But– you’re telling me, that you.. would pass on a night of… meaningless, fantastic, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mind blowing sex… for love?” 
“Yes.”
Astarion paused, taken aback. “Well, that’s actually quite admirable… But why?” 
“For me, I want it to mean something. Sex is an easily obtainable thing, but love… love you have to work for, to fight for, to earn and to cherish. Sex is great and all but… making love to the person who means the most to you in the world. That’s what I want. That’s what I need.” 
Astarion tapped his finger against his lips, thinking to himself before speaking again. “Hm. Sex and love, I never took you for such a sap,” he said with a light laugh. “Well, how do you feel about being friends then, hm? The kind of friends that protect one another, that is.” 
Tav chuckled. “I think it’s too late for that.” 
“Too late?! So what, now we can’t even be friends?!” Astarion threw his hands up, frustrated. “All I did was hit on you and now—“ 
“No, no,” Tav cut him off, reaching for Astarion’s hands and holding them gently. “What I mean… We can be friends but… I have developed some feelings for you. If you want to be friends, that’s fine. That’s great, actually. I just… well, I need to know if I should ignore those feelings—“  
Astatrion pulled his hands way, choosing to gesture towards Tav as he spoke. “So, let me get this straight. You have ‘some’ feelings for me?”
“Yes,” Tav replied with a nod. 
“But you don’t want to fuck me, tonight? Right now?” 
“Right.” They nodded again. 
“How very interesting… and even.. a little refreshing,” Astarion smiled, a smile that almost seemed shy… With his head turning away from Tav—and Tav swore they saw the smallest blush growing on his cheeks. 
“Refreshing?” Tav questioned, learning towards Astarion in an attempt to see that adorable blush— 
Astarion waved them off, the blush already gone and Astarion back to his usual self. “Never mind that, Tav. I guess we can see where this goes then?” He reached out, taking Tav’s hand into his own and giving it a light squeeze. “Whatever this is, anyway.” 
Tav smiled. “I’d like that.” 
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sharkboywrites · 4 months
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Friendly reminders to cis fanfic writers that afab≠woman
Afab means assigned female at birth so this includes/can include cis women, trans men, transmasc people, nonbinary people, and intersex people.
If you’re making a fic where the reader is a woman, uses she/her, wears feminine clothing, etc. tag it as fem reader instead.
I’ve been smacked in the face as a trans man by reading fics tagged afab thinking it will be gender neutral, but the reader is actually a woman and I’m disappointed because I was ready for a fic I thought would apply to me.
Have fun writing and make sure you’re tagging your fics properly, ty <3
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a-case-of-attachment · 6 months
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Astarion didn’t get jealous.
Scared and lonely? Well yes, of course he did. He even felt angry and vengeful as well but when one considers the life he had been forced to live up until his involuntary relocation to the nautiloid you could hardly blame him for feeling those things.
He couldn’t really remember being jealous of anyone or anything in the short years he had lived before being turned. Then again, he couldn’t really remember much from then at all. Not how he looked, his mother’s name or even if there had been someone for him to love and cherish. Everything important was gone, like it had been swallowed up by a dense fog and no matter how much he search all he ever found was more nothingness. Hardly a good reference point when trying to remember if you had experienced something before or were just familiar with the concept from books.
It was possible he had once been jealous of Cazador’s chosen few. The favourites that had gotten to rest in actual beds and spared the crueller torments that often befell the spawn. Not forced to lay on the cold and unforgiving floor, surrounded by rotting rat carcasses and the smell of fresh and old spawn blood so thick in the air that it felt like he was choking on the stuff.
Maybe that had been jealousy, but Astarion thought it had been more spiteful envy. More angry and covetous of the reprieve then jealous of the attention the favoured few got. He didn’t want to be one of those pathetic, snivelling devotees that scurried around behind Cazador like roaches, blinded by their idiotic belief that all the pain and suffering meant something. That there would be a worthwhile reward at the end of it all. No, all Astarion had wanted was to be treated with just a shred of common decency. Something that he had been denied until he had been fortunate enough to find you after the crash.
So yes, Astarion was sure that he had never been jealous before yet here he was, most certain that as he stared across the fire of their ever-growing camp that was exactly what he was feeling.
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You and Gale were huddled close together just outside his tent, heads leaning towards the other and whispering as you both poured over the pages of whatever spell book the wizard had pilfered from the bandit camp, they had raided just that morn. You were smiling, laughing as the idiotic man waved his free hand about, clearly regaling you with a tale that he was heavily embellishing if not outright lying about. You seemed to be enjoying it though, encouraging him with your sweet laughter and wide smiles even as you shook your head in disbelief.
Normally Astarion wouldn’t care if you were feeling gracious and decided to bestow one of your ever hopeful companions with your attention. Astarion was always the one you went too first when arriving back at camp. He was always the one whose flirtations you returned and the only one in their camp of weirdos and misfits who could say they had seen you naked and on more than one occasion at that. He was the one who’s attention you sought. The one you always made time for. Him. Not anyone else…normally but tonight wasn’t like normal because tonight when Astarion had approached you, all charming smiles and quick wit you had done the unthinkable and he had been left staring after you in shock and disbelief like a complete idiot because tonight, you had said no.
Now, don’t misunderstand, you were allowed to say no. He wasn’t a monster. He wouldn’t force you into anything you didn’t want like he had been. Sure, there had been a playful back and forth a time or two. You like to tease him as much as he did you, playing hard to get and making him work for every stollen moment and mouthful of liquid gold that ran through your veins, but it had been playful, done with a teasing smirk and eyes full of promise. Astarion had known that with the right word, the perfect brush of fingers and a well-timed appreciative once over that you would be putty in his hands, willing and open to his advances and what that would lead to. You had never outright said no to him before and for Gale for god’s sake.
Had you maybe hit your head on their last little adventure, and no one had noticed. Perhaps you might even be under some sort of spell or enchantment. Whatever it was there had to be some sort of explanation for this, this madness because there was no logical reason as why you would suddenly up and abandon him for Gale of bloody Waterdeep.
You laughed again, louder this time. Your smile wide and eyes practically glowing with it. Astarion’s mood darkened even more, his eyebrows furrowing as his scowl deepened. Honestly, what in the hells could be so funny about the dull drivel Gale passed off as story’s of his adventures? If you wanted a story, then Astarion could spin you a tale so grand and fanciful that whatever rubbish Gale was regaling you with would look like a child’s bedtime story.
Huffing he turned away, his grip on the book he had been pretending to read for the better part of an hour tightening as yours and Gale's laughter mingled in the air like wine and vinegar. He was not jealous. He wasn’t. He just didn’t like Gale’s barking bellow he called a laugh mixing with your melodic and light one. Really, he would be doing everyone a favour if he went over there and stole you away. It wouldn’t mean anything. Wouldn’t mean that Astarion was hurt and angry that you would want to spend time with Gale instead of him. You were free to do whatever you wanted. He wasn’t your keeper, and you were more than capable of making decisions for yourself even if those choices were clearly wrong.
Astarion’s eyes narrowed as he watched Gale subtly move closer to you, using the small spell book he had suddenly pulled from his pocket as a rather poor excuse to draw you in. The two of you were so close now that a leaf would barely fit between you. He couldn’t see what Gale was showing you anymore but what he could see was how Gale was looking at you. His head was turned towards you, his eyes soft and full of longing as his voice dropped into something gentle, smoother. You seemed oblivious to the shift in tone, your eyes and attention fixed on the book between you, but Astarion could see it all. Gale was a man in love and longing, looking at you like you were the most breathtaking piece of art and the first drop of rain after a drought. It was uncomfortable to watch what Gale probably intend to be a private moment and it made something squirm and tighten in Astarion’s stomach.
Everyone knew that Gale had romantic feelings for you, well, everyone except you but you didn’t seem to notice that almost everyone in their weird little group wanted you in one way or another. Astarion was sure that at least three of the others were halfway in love with you and those that weren’t coveted your body. Gale though, he was the one who had fallen hardest, his feelings as clear as if he had spelt them out with fireworks in the midnight sky.
Astarion had been so smug at first when you had started to favour his company over everyone else’s. He had been able to see the wizard’s heartache and longing, but he had scoffed at the foolish man’s feelings, making a grand show of whisking you off to his tent or other less crowded parts of the camp so he could have you all to himself. It had been a heady rush to have all your attention on him, to become the sole focus of someone who wasn’t expecting him to take his clothes off and seemed to genuinely enjoy his quick wit and rather scathing comments.
He had taken a rather perverse joy in calling you darling and seeing Gale scowl as you smiled ever so sweetly at Astarion. He had been so free with his touch, everything from a simple brush down after a fight to cupping your jaw or brushing his fingers gently across your cheek. He was the only one you allowed to touch you so openly, practically inviting him to lay a hand on you whether that be the small of your back, the inside of your thigh or even your hand, your fingers laced together. Gale had seen it all and Astarion had thought the wizard had understood that you were off limits to the likes of him, but the fool had apparently not given up hope and thought to worm his way into your good graces with made up stories of grandeur and whispered spells.
You turned your head towards him, a question on your lips that quickly vanished as your eyes widened, finally realising how close Gale had gotten whilst your attention was elsewhere. Time seemed to slow then, the world around him falling silent as everything else fell away apart for the two people in front of him.
Gale’s eyes fell from your eyes down to your slightly parted lips. His tongue slowly wetting his lips and giving them a slight shine. His eyes went back to yours, a flicker of uncertainty dancing through them before determination set in. He shifted, the dull thump of the forgotten book hitting the floor not enough to break the intense staring the two of you were doing. Your breath hitched, eyes widening impossibly more as you and Astarion both seemed to realise what was about to happen at the same time.
Astarion had never moved so quickly in his life before.
One second, he had been sat across the other side of the camp, book open but forgotten in his lap as he watched you light up for Gale and the next, he was up and across the space before the book even had time to fall closed. His fingers curled around your arm, and he yanked you rather violently onto your feet and away from the wizards’ searching lips. “Ahh!” Your surprised cry was loud, most likely drawing the others attention but Astarion barely even heard it, his eyes fixed on Gale who had jerked back at your sudden disappearance.
“There you are my darling.” Astarion smiled brightly, his voice loud and cheerful as he spoke over your stuttering indignation at having been so roughly handled. Gale was glaring back at him now, hands curled into fists on his thighs and practically vibrating with anger. Though he supposed it could always be the magic he was always consuming to keep from blowing himself and more importantly them up. It could be quite hard to tell sometimes and Astarion didn’t care enough about the other man to actually bother to work it out. All he knew was that he had to get you away from him before Gale got another one of his disastrously good ideas and tried to make yet another attempt on your lips. “So sorry to break up this little,” Astarion slowly dragged his eyes over Gale, hardly able to keep the sneer out of his voice, “dalliance but there is something I need your assistance with love.” He didn’t wait for an answer from either of them, spinning on his heels and dragging you along behind him. “Astarion!” you hissed in a mix of annoyance and disbelief, but you didn’t stop him, didn’t even try and break free of his hold, just letting him quickly lead you across the small camp and towards the tree line.
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Now with a part two!!
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kittenintheden · 3 months
Text
Let Go
just a horny lil thing nbd
Rating: E Word Count: >1k Content: 18+, fluff, gentle sex, making love on a bearskin rug and being mushy about it, gender neutral reader
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It's taken time, encouragement, and familiarity to reach this point, but you're here now. Lost in bliss, riding your love's lap as he continues to take his pleasure in you. You've come already, of course, because Astarion is nothing if not a stubbornly attentive lover.
It's been work for both of you to get to this place of true comfort, of true loving abandon, and it's been so very worth it. Your post-orgasmic haze leaves your focus soft and glowing, your hands knit together behind his neck as you ride him, watching him finally let himself go and enjoy the moment to the fullest. A little selfishness. A little self-focus.
His eyes are closed as he sinks into the sensation of you, his arms wrapped around your back as he thrusts up, up, up, your body gently bouncing from it. Long and languid strokes going much sloppier than he'd normally allow, so many months ago, but he's no longer obsessed with the performance of the thing. He's here. He's inside you. He's letting himself feel it all.
Astarion takes a hand from your back and spreads it out against the bearskin rug where you're making love, giving himself more leverage as he lifts himself into your pliant heat. His breath comes in short bursts, little puffs past his lips. He tries to interject his favorite sultry quips when he can -- he is a man who loves the sound of his own voice -- but even those come out piecemeal.
"So hot inside," he pants, resting his forehead against the side of your cheek. "Feel so… bloody good. Want to… want to… I… please can I…"
You watch his face, the tension between his brows as his pleasure climbs, the way his lips part, the tips of his teeth just peeking through. His hair, his pride, falling unkempt and sweaty across his forehead. Your own body is stretched with aching pleasure, your recent peak leaving you sated and delighting in the simple joy of feeling him inside you.
It's magic, seeing him like this. No grand gestures, no performative moves, no catalog of exciting positions. Its just you, and him, and your collective ecstasy. Your collective love made physical. You smile to yourself, secret, and reach up gentle fingers to caress his ear, thumb rubbing soft circles, stroking along it lobe to tip, and he groans as he leans his head into it.
"Going to make… going to make me come, I… can't…" he stutters.
You know. You know exactly what you're doing, and you're rewarded with a long roll of his hips up into yours, his fingers gripping you tight, and the wrinkle in his brow smoothing out into relaxed rapture as his mouth stretches into a lazy, contented smile before it drops open. You watch the journey across his face as he reaches the crest of his wave and then crashes down with it to the other side.
He holds you tighter to him as he shivers, his last thrusts shallow and messy.
"Gods, gods, gods," he whimpers, going softer, going weaker, going still.
When he finally opens his heavy eyelids to look upon you, you know there are stars in your eyes. There is simply nothing like watching him let go for you. With you.
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e-m-ma-lmfao · 8 months
Note
I have a request for Astarion ! What if reader is usually the one being seduced by Astarion (because that's how he is) but reader one day does the very chivalrous hand kissing to Astarion after maybe protecting him from an enemy?
Rizz if you will.
It's Called Chivalry, Darling
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pairing : astarion x (gn) reader
summary : astarion makes a point to be chivalrous so you return the favour to distract him from being worried.
warnings :talk about weapons and fighting, reader gets hurt.
a/n: thanks sm for your request :). i tried my hardest to execute this idea, i hope you like it anon :0 (i have not played baldurs gate)
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“I think we could stock up there. ” You point to a row of buildings, signs practically unreadable, grabbing the attention of the others in your group. They all hum in agreement before heading off in their own directions. The only store you assume you’ll be needing is a general store, so you head in that direction. 
You reach for the handle but someone else's hand beats you to it, pulling it open for you. Turning to look, you make eye contact with the ever handsome Astarion, smirk tugging at his lips. 
“Why’re you opening the door for me? What do you want?” You point an accusatory finger in his face, causing him to chuckle. His laugh is so soft it almost makes you drop your finger. 
“It’s called chivalry, my dear. You aren’t familiar?” He follows behind you as you enter the store, rolling your eyes at him. The store is mostly empty, besides a few men looking through the wares available. But even with all the open space for him to walk, Astarion seems to tail you as if the store is crowded. 
“Ooh get some more of that stuff, remember you used it on me? It made that cut on my arm feel like nothing.” He points from behind you at a healing balm in a small, glass jar. You stop in your tracks to grab it, causing Astarion to push into your back, and you look back at him with a confused stare. 
“Why’d you stop? ” His brows are furrowed, face close to yours.
“Why are you walking so close to me?”
“I just can’t stand to be far from you, my love,” He places his hand on his chest dramatically, voice incredibly theatrical as if he wasn’t already dramatic enough. You're sure that people in the store are shooting glances your way but, unusually, you can't bring yourself to care.
Not when Astarion is looking down at you with playful eyes and a giddy smile on his face. He looks so sweet like this, so free of worry and attitude, his guard is down. But you can't let him realize your thoughts, so before he could even notice your staring you force your face to remain as stoic as before.
You once again roll your eyes then continue your search for anything the group may need. Once you finish you head towards the door, making a point to open the door for yourself which causes Astarion to grunt in disapproval. 
The group finds each other once more and you head out of town, fully prepared for what might be ahead. At least that's what you think, maybe a stupid thought considering you're never truly safe on this perilous journey.
As you travel along the trail, your group seems to split off into its own smaller groups. Whispering and laughing with eachother, making far too much noise in your opinion. And Astarion, slowly trickling from the front all the way to the back where you're walking, finds his place beside you. 
“Why do you always walk so far towards the back? That’s a dangerous position for someone as small as you, no one to keep you safe from behind.” He chuckles to himself as he notices your brows furrow. 
“There’s nobody to annoy me either.” His hand flys to his chest, pretending to be hurt once more, his pace faltering ever so slightly then catching up with you again. 
“Ouch. How you wound me so with your cold words darling.” 
“Astarion, if you wish to accompany me in the back I’d appreciate if..” Your sentence is cut off with a yelp of surprise as you trip over a dip in the road, stumbling forwards. But you don’t fall very far, Astarion’s hand gripping onto your wrist and pulling you towards him. Your chest hits his, and you take a moment to regain your bearings before taking a step away from him.
He raises your hand, still in his grip, up to his lips and places a gentle kiss on the top of your knuckles, “You must be more careful, darling. Don’t want you getting hurt.” 
You know your face is pink, you can feel it, and the smirk on his face solidifies your worry, but you remain composed and give him a simple nod as you pull your hand away. 
“Shall I hold your hand to ensure you don’t trip again?”
“In your dreams, fangs.” He smiles, it's always so soft during these moments, and the sight alone almost causes you to take back your words and give in to his offer, but you stand your ground and keep your hands close to your hips. Astarion lets out a small laugh at this.
You continue to walk in peaceful silence, Astarion making small quips so the air is never truly silent around you. You've come to realize that Astarion can't stand silence whenever he's around you, and he makes a point to keep the noise level up. But when his tone shifts, and he becomes quieter, you take a peak around. You notice that the group is much closer than before but you don’t mind. Safety in numbers and what not. 
But something feels off. It’s eerily quiet. Not even the whistle of a bird and you swear the wind has stopped entirely. And you think the rest of your group notices as well, perhaps the reason that they had moved closer was so they wouldn’t be caught off guard. Their hands stay on their weapons ready to take them out. 
And then it happens. A group of goblins jump from the surrounding forest and circle around your party. Usually something as small a threat as a goblin would be no problem but in such large numbers they might prove to be a problem. When they initiate a fight, thrusting their blades towards you, you draw your blade. 
Slowly, you pick off goblins, one by one. They’re stronger than you expected and their weapons are much nicer than the ones you had encountered in the past. But you keep your guard up and they’re unable to land a blow on you. It’s when the amount of goblins in front of you is reduced that your guard is let down even the slightest. And your focus shifts. Not the smartest move.
You look around you, realizing that Astarion is no longer by your side.
In your state of distraction, a goblin is able to strike you, leaving a relatively large cut on your arms and cutting the arm of your shirt into a tattered piece. The pain causes you to refocus for a moment, just enough to kill the goblin before you look back towards Astarion.
When your eyes reach his position, your heart drops to your stomach. He is completely surrounded and you're certain that he is unaware just how shitty his situation is. So without a second thought, you leave the goblins in front of you behind, and rush over to him. 
Swinging your blade with as much force as you can muster, you kill the goblins behind him and grab his wrist to pull him out of his unfortunate position. You kill another, after ensuring he is no longer in the way. The two of you pick the goblins off together, standing back to back. And when the fight is over you finally allow yourself a moment to breathe. 
But it doesn’t last long. 
Astarion pushes at your shoulder, causing you to stumble forward, you hardly catch yourself but you do. When you’ve found your footing you straighten up, turning to him with furrowed brows, “What was that for?” 
“Why would you do that?” His tone is so aggressive it catches you off guard, “You could’ve gotten hurt! How could you be so irresponsible? Look at your arm, Gods!"
He holds your arm in his hands, hesitating for a moment before ripping off a piece of his own shirt. Gently, he pushes the arm of your shirt up to uncover your wound and begins to wrap the piece of cloth around the wound with shaky fingers, muttering curse words under his breath.
“You could’ve been killed Astarion! I would’ve gladly gotten hurt in order to prevent that.” You try to keep your cool. The pain is hardly noticeable with the amount of adrenaline pumping through your body. And you honestly find yourself more worried about him being angry with you Obviously, he’s yelling in your face, but it might just be shock getting to him. 
“Why would you do that for me? That is absolutely ridiculous.” He huffs, throwing his hands in the air, then allows them to fall back down to his sides. And an idea suddenly enters you brain. 
Slowly, with caution to not annoy him further, you reach for his still shaky hand. He stares at you, brows furrowed, but he doesn’t pull away. Gently, you place your lips against his bloodied knuckles, making an effort not to hurt his already irritated skin.
“It’s called chivalry, Astarion. You aren’t familiar?” You notice the smallest change in his eyes as they soften, even a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. He isn’t mad, just worried. And you know that all the annoyance has fled his body at your attempt to make fun of him and his flirtatious remarks. Honestly, he's a little flattered you remember what he said, and flustered from you playing his own game against him.
You take a step closer, placing a hand on the side of his face to pull him in closer, to plant a soft kiss to his cheekbone. His curls touch your fingertips, and you take the opportunity to play with his soft hair for a moment. When you pull away, a pink tint lingers on his skin, allowing color to flow on his beautiful face. “You know I don’t want you getting hurt.”
This time he lets out a soft laugh, “That’s enough, darling. I understand what you’re doing, you can stop mocking me.” He turns away from you, but you rush to his side, wrapping your hands around his arms. You lean into him, resting your head near his shoulder as you look up at him.
“Shall I hold onto you so you don’t trip, my dear?” You mock his usual flirty tone, and he pushes your head away gently in an attempt to hide the color rushing to his face, ruffling your hair up.
“What, I'm not allowed to flirt with you but you can do it to me?”
"That's exactly right, my dear."
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whaledenwtf · 4 months
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Hello! This might be a weird request but what about Gale, Halsin and Astarion with a s/o who's super cute and friendly and overall just a gigantic sweetheart who also happens to canonically be horrifyingly powerful. Like potentially even more destructive than Gale and the orb. Enemies who know their lore turn and run just at the mention of them and their name strikes fear into many hearts but then the camera pans over and it's this short sweetheart of a person. Literally this post basically
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Thank you so so much, I really love your writing! Also Happy Holidays sweetie! ☺️
I love this idea!! I made it headcannons so it wasn't too long to read! REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! Please ask more, I love writing things for people <3
REQUEST HERE
Headcannons: Astarion, Gale and Halsin with a super cute friendly S/O who's horrifyingly powerful
Warnings: None, this is just indulgent FLUFF, Minor Spoilers for Act 1 and for Gale and Astarion's Lore
Astarion
You were always sweet with Astarion, and only made him feel comfortable and safe.
After he told you he was a vampire, you accepted him despite everyone else telling you not to!
When you told him you could beat Cazador, he didn't believe you at first because of your sweet nature.
The first time he realized you were a legend was when you guys raided the Goblin Camp to save Halsin.
You initially told everyone your name was Tav, so nobody really knew who you were.
Every Goblin met their end with a swing of your weapon, gutting them before they blinked.
It scared your companions, honestly.
When you got to Minthara, you told her your name was (Y/N), and she backed away from you.
Astarion was confused until Karlach, Wyll and Lae'zel spoke of your legendary moniker.
Wyll may be known as the "Blade of Frontiers" but you were known as "The Walking Death" and that was thrilling for Astarion.
Every monster, creature and being met their demise when face to face with you.
Astarion was a slave for 200 years, only knowing the bare minimum from Cazador. But knowing you were on his side, and under his thumb, that thrilled him!
Once you apologized about lying to your companions, they all welcomed you in their arms, especially Astarion.
As he slowly falls in love with you, he realizes that he likes knowing his significant other is not only powerful and showed no mercy, but showed him life through another lens.
You show him that love doesn't make someone weak, but stronger.
You're powerful, and having you by his side makes him feel unstoppable as well.
He is very grateful for you. You will pull him from Cazador's clutches and stay with him through it.
Despite your sweet nature, you kicked ass. You saved everyone you could, which annoyed Astarion. But he loved you despite it, and always will.
After all, why would he run away from the first good thing to happen to him?
Gale
He was also confused about who you were right away. As a scholar he spent most of his time in books, rather than the battlefield.
Honestly, his mind was distracted between the Netherese Orb in his chest and Mystra.
When you pulled him out of the portal, he was struck by your kindness.
Then he was struck by your beauty when you fought valiantly for your companions.
He was excited seeing someone so powerful near him, and honestly fell harder.
After telling you what Mystra did, you told him you'd kill her.
He laughed you off, until he saw what you could do.
Now he's worried he won't have a goddess to worship.
Your battle prowess is astounding, and he can't help but admire you as you shout commands to your companions.
You always were gentle with Gale, soft touches and sweet nothings between you two.
He always finds it difficult to associate you with your title.
"The Slayer of Man and Beast" he's heard Lae'zel and Shadowheart call you.
You always chuckle and tell them "soon you'll have to add gods to that"
Now he's even more worried about his goddess
Over time, he considers you his goddess. After all, you've protected and respected him much more than Mystra ever had.
When he tells you about the Netherese Orb, you shrug him off.
"Nothing will keep me from you, not even a bomb."
Wow
When you two are alone, he caresses your muscles and your hands. He's in love with the idea of his significant other being this battle-worn individual set to protect him
Throughout your adventure, you remind him that you would protect him with your life.
"All for little old me?"
"Nobody will stop me from protecting you. No monster or goddess."
Man you really hate Mystra for hurting Gale so bad.
You dream about smiting her and protecting Gale in your arms.
While adventuring, you always keep Gale by your side. Everyone teases you for it until you shoot them a warning glance.
You're so so good to him. You take hits for him, heal him in battle, and heal him in the privacy of his tent.
"You're too good to me." He muttered once, eyes closed.
"You've never been treated right. It's my personal duty to make sure you never doubt yourself ever again." You replied, kissing his eyelids.
He just fell harder.
Halsin
He actually knew who you were before you saved him.
When you said your name, he bowed his head in respect.
"An honour to put a face to the name" He said to you.
You told him you loved how big and safe he was.
"You're the one who would keep me safe, little one."
He wasn't wrong. You've saved him multiple times throughout your adventure.
You were very sweet with Halsin, always leaning against his arms and closing your eyes when you sit together in camp.
He found it amusing, seeing such a feared individual be so innocent and kind with him.
In his 350 years of existence, he's never been so captivated by someone like you.
When he tasked you with eradicating the Goblin Camp, he enjoyed seeing the fear in Minthara's eyes when you said your name.
Despite being a druid, he knew that with life also came death. He accepted your past.
He found the juxtaposition of your personality endearing.
One day, he was in wildshape lounging around as a bear. You laid on him and spoke about different topics regarding your life.
In that same day, he saw you obliterate 20 goblins on your own.
He never thought he'd be aroused by someone killing goblins, but you did that.
You also knew all the spots to scratch when he was a bear??
Yes that's the spot. Right behind his ears.
He liked seeing the way you treat your companions with such kindness.
You showed respect and compassion to those who you find deserve it. You helped people find safety, and feel safe.
It was beautiful, the way you showed such love to those who were close to you.
He always compared you to the ocean.
"Why the ocean?" You asked him once.
"You can be calm, bring peace. But you are also wild, strong in the most beautiful way." He replied.
He enjoyed the way you blushed.
One time, you asked him to wildshape and you rode him into battle. Nothing is scarier than seeing (Y/N) "The Tempest" riding onto a bear.
Even your companions were scared
Ever since then, you always did it. It was like couple bonding, somehow??
Gods, he loves his little tempest
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Hope this is as enjoyable for you guys to read as it was for me to write!!
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yourfriendowlbear · 4 months
Text
Protection (Astarion headcanons)
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Astarion x gn!Tav
Summary: Astarion notices how you've protected him over the years.
Warnings: brief mention of manipulation; murder; small act 3 spoilers; brief mention of nightmares
Note: this is my first astarion piece I'm posting! let me know if you'd like to see more headcanons, or if you have something you'd like to request
He’s watching you adjust a curtain to block out the afternoon sun from the drawing room when he realizes it. 
You spend so much energy protecting him. In big and small ways.
Just now, you’re balanced on top of a stool, fighting with the thick cloth to get it to lay just right over the window just so that he can feel comfortable in the home you share together.
But really, you’ve been doing it since the beginning. Looking out for him whether you realized it or not.
You’d been so willing to protect him from the intellect devourer that he'd made up to manipulate you. Hadn’t even thought about it, just sprung into action because he’d asked for help.
And then, only a short time later, you’d protected him from the Gur Hunter. You’d followed his lead, allowed him to pace the conversation. And then, when it was clear what needed to be done, you’d killed the Gur, an arrow loosened from your bow piercing the hunter’s throat.
Countless battles, you’d fought by his side, felling enemies before they got too close, tossing him healing potions when his injuries were too egregious.
You’d even plotted out a damn near-perfect strategy for taking down Cazador, spent countless nights reading ancient scrolls in the Devil’s Fee and padded the pockets of more dark wizards than Astarion could count to arm yourself with as much information as you could gather.
And when you were in Cazador’s chambers, your plan was put into motion. He hadn’t been particularly happy about hanging back, but when the fight started and Cazador still hadn't seen him, Astarion was glad for your thorough mind.
He did notice, just as Lae’zel went in for the first blow, that you’d placed yourself directly in Cazador’s path, blocking him bodily from accessing Astarion. Of course, there was no way you could stand up to the vampire master’s magic, but the barrier stood as a warning–Cazador would not get to Astarion easily.
You make sure his tea is the perfect temperature, make sure he’s well-fed, keep him company, bring him more books when he desires.
And when the nightmares plague his rest, your touch is gentle as an angel’s as you stroke his hair and try to lull him back to calm.
There are tomes on the table in your bedroom, ancient, dusty things that tell of events long forgotten. You’d heard a drunk orc make mention of a ring that allows vampires and drow to walk in the sun, and that was all it took to set you off on another quest to defend him–this time, from nature itself.
The stool wobbles under you, and lightning quick, Astarion is there to steady you. His hands find your hips just as the stool tips over and he’s able to brace you and let you down gently.
Maybe he protects you, too.
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spacebarbarianweird · 6 months
Note
Hey, I saw you take request and so I wanted to ask if you could write some fluff, maybe some Astarion comforting Tav after they went through a panick attack
Gender neutral if possible please, I just had my first ever panick attack and would love some comfort from my fav Vampire <3
- Astarions-Imagine-Archiche [Would love to go off anon but sadly, Tumblr dosent let me send asks through sideblogs]
Hi! Hope you will enjoy it!
FEAR
Sometimes it's just too much to bear TW: A description of a panic attack Tags: hurt \ comfort, gn!reader, nurturing Astarion, post game, established relationship Read on AO3
Masterlist
Headcanons
Surrounded by a fiery inferno, you sense the escalating heat in the air. The thick layer of fabric shields your skin from immediate harm, yet your body responds almost primally.
Scorching and stifling air leaves you struggling to breathe, and the smoke stings your eyes.
Fire.
An indiscriminate devourer of all, whether mortal or undead, demon or elf, it rages like a starving beast. Discarding your sword, you decide to leap, knowing the flames will only graze your skin a bit.
"Ig-nis!" Astarion's voice rings out, casting a fireball into the necromancer. The half-orc topples, weakening the ring of fire around you. Muscles tense, preparing for the leap, but an abrupt freeze takes over just as your feet are about to propel you forward.
Attempting to move your hand, your brain feels detached, as though subjected to a Mindflayer's experiment. The fire intensifies, yet your legs remain unresponsive. Trapped within the confines of your own body, you are helpless and silent.
It's merely a "hold person" spell, lasting a minute or two or until Astarion dispatches the necromancer. Nothing harmful, nothing scary. The enemy just wants to win some time. 
Immobile, you manage to shift your eyelids just slightly. Astarion is nowhere to be seen while the necromancer looms ten feet before you. Approaching like a ghoul, his eyes scrutinize you as if you're a specimen in a lab.
Astarion. Astarion, where are you? Panic sets in. What if he's wounded, dead, or worse, turned into a mindless ghoul under a new master's control?
The necromancer, eyeing you with a sinister hunger, licks his lips. "Pretty creature. You will serve me well once you die."
His touch on your right temple triggers another memory—a Mindflayer's pod, helplessness, fear, disgust. A tadpole approaching your eyelid.
If you could scream, you would. 
"What is your worst nightmare?" the sorcerer whispers, casting the second spell.
Suddenly, you're back in the Nautiloid. A Mindflayer cracks your skull open, and the scent of burning bone fills the air. The monster probes your bare brain, and it sprouts thin black legs. Your organ is no longer yours; it's an intellect devourer.
A vision unfolds. Astarion's body writhes and transforms into a Mindflayer. "Don't do this to me. I can't do this again!" he cries for help until his face explodes, tentacles burst forth. 
You fall again, from the Nautiloid to the seashore, but the Emperor is unwilling to save you. Your spine breaks on the rocks.
Baldur's Gate. The day of the attack. The Nautiloid inches forward, missing Astarion, who escapes to the sewers. You'll never see him again; he's condemned to be his new master's slave.
No, no, please, no, gods help me.
Suddenly, the fear releases its grip, your hands and legs regain movement, and you collapse onto the scorched ground. 
"Fuck!" you curse. "Fuck you, bastard!" 
The necromancer lies dead. Fat flies crawling on his rotten flesh.
"Well, someone needs to learn how to dodge”, Astarion chuckles. “Next time, it'll be something more dangerous, like a power word spell or a death finger. Instant death, and you're resurrected as a ghoul," strong hands lift you up, and you stand on your feet once again.
"Where have you been," you mutter, your voice trembling.
He pulls away. "What do you mean?"
"I didn't see you. I thought you were dead. Where were you?"
"Darling, I made sure to disappear from his decayed eyes. I prefer an advantage when the enemy... let's say... has their ways with the undead and the dead." He tilts your chin up, making you look into his crimson eyes. 
If you weren't as tired and numb, guilt might settle in. That's how he fights—no knight, no warrior. He hides and attacks when the enemy forgets about him. It's not his fault you were knocked out, but the bitterness lingers in your heart, replacing the fear.
Returning to the small camp silently, you muster the last remnants of your strength to pull off your armor. Astarion sits by the fire with a book, not attempting to join you in the tent. Guilt pervades your thoughts. What if your rudeness jeopardizes the progress, you've made together?
What if you wake up the following day, and he's gone?
Your mind spirals in twisted ways. What if a piece of the tadpole remains in your brain? Powerful creatures aren't to be trusted. What if it's still there, waiting to hatch? What if Astarion harbors one inside his head as well? What if this isn't the end, and unthinkable horrors lie ahead? What if one day you wake up and hear a voice subduing you to some eldritch, horrible, and insane entity?
You feel like you can't breathe. The heart races, heavy as a tombstone, and your hands are numb and cold. The uncertainties weigh on you like a suffocating shroud.
A lump rises in your throat, an unbearable sensation that makes you want to vomit. You press your hands to your chest and breathe heavily as if you are short of air.
Light steps approach from behind. "Darling, your breathing can be heard in a nearby village. What's wrong?" The voice sounds distant, echoing through thick walls. Suddenly, your eyesight blurs, reality becoming an illusion, disconnecting you from your body. The voice sounds unfamiliar and distorted.
Astarion wraps his hands around your waist. "It's okay, everything is alright. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." 
 It still feels unreal, as if someone tries to imitate your lover's voice.
"I- I am…I am dying", you whisper.
"It's just a panic attack, nothing more," he replies. "Let me guess, he casted the fear spell on you? You saw something unpleasant, didn’t you? Illithids, I bet." 
Astarion brushes your hair with pale fingers and then kisses the crown of your head. He gently touches your hand, then your leg. "You are here. You are safe with me. And if someone threatens you, I will rip their throats." He holds you tighter, speaking comforting words. The lines he once used for seduction and manipulation now sound like a weird, soothing spell.
You don't feel your body. You don't understand where you are. You remember the Nautiloid, the blood, the fear. 
You start crying. You haven't cried for ages – first, there was no time to reflect on awful things happening to you. Then, it was Astarion who needed you to be strong because he was a mess after 200 years of abuse and sudden freedom he didn't dream of having. But now it’s you who is overwhelmed and scared.
"Hush, everything is okay. You are safe with me," Astarion whispers.
Suddenly, you come to your senses. The racing heart subsides, and the looming horror fades.
You breathe freely. Astarion strokes your hair. "Feeling better?"
You nod and find the strength to sit up. "What can I do for you, my love?" Astarion asks.
Licking your dry lips, you realize the intense need for water causing your dizziness. Before you can utter a word, the vampire reaches for a flask. In three big gulps, you drain the bottle and collapse onto your back in the tent. The thick black fabric, enchanted with the "darkness" spell, feels like a reassuring wall, offering a sense of safety rather than claustrophobia.
Astarion lies beside you, wrapping his hands around your waist. But instead of pressing his face against your collarbone as usual, he pushes against his chest. If he were alive, you would hear his heartbeat. 
"I am just—I don't know—afraid?" you finally admit. "I'm afraid this Illithid madness isn't over, and something is stuck in our brains waiting for the right moment. I'm afraid to die. I'm afraid you will die. I'm afraid that one of these powerful creatures we pissed off will come for our souls. I'm afraid you will slip into feral madness, and there's nothing I will be able to do to prevent this."
He presses you even tighter. "You are a very brave little thing, you know that?" he finally says. "I insist on that. Leading the way from this Illithid madness, letting me close despite knowing who I am. Facing any danger or monster. But sometimes it's just too much, right?"
You nod and receive one more kiss. "I will always be with you; I am not going anywhere. And when it just feels too much, you tell me. I will gladly take a nurturing role. Besides, you've been caring for me for far too long. Time to change roles."
Slowly, you drift into sleep, the last thing you remember before slipping away being Astarion whispering, "I am lucky to have you."
--
@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @aoirohi @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive
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coffeeanddonutscafe · 2 months
Text
Cold Comfort
Astarion has a nightmare and fluff unfolds.
Chapter 2: Sleepy Solace
Notes:
*fluff intensifies*
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(for chapter one scroll down)
Astarion's slender fingers dipped into the spring water first, a surreal experience for a creature of the night like him. The mere thought of such a touch would have been inconceivable during his days as a pitiable spawn in Cazador's dreaded palace.
Running water had always been a torment for the undead, its touch akin to touching acid. But now, thanks to the presence of the tadpole in his head, he found himself immune to this particular agony.
With the water flask held steadily beneath the spring's gentle flow, Astarion marvelled at the scene. The moon's silvery light bathed the water in an ethereal glow, transforming it into a tranquil pool of serenity.
Yet, even in this moment of grace, the orchestrator of Astarion's recurring nightmare clawed its way back into his consciousness. Cazador Szarr's cruel whims seemed to haunt him still. The memories of those dark days washed over him like a suffocating tide—weeks of numbness spent searching for new victims to sate his master's insatiable hunger… Months of swallowing his pride and enduring humiliation.
Astarion shook his head, determined not to let these thoughts take hold of him. In the months of their travels, he had begun the arduous process of confronting the poisonous bile of his past. He was not sure how to erase these memories, for they had become involuntary inner outbursts. They tended to surface at the most unexpected moments when his companions spoke or asked questions.
He furrowed his brow as he recalled the term Tav had taught him—a "trigger." At first, he had scoffed at the notion, but her patient explanations and suggestions had convinced him to give her methods a try.
Though it was arduous, Astarion had observed some gradual improvement in his abilities to consciously cope with his pain. He tried to endure, understand, and overcome – sometimes successfully and sometimes not.
He sighed and continued on his way back to the camp. He headed straight for Tav's tent. He entered with a quiet grace, and his eyes immediately fell upon her.
She slumbered, a portrait of innocence. Chestnut waves cascaded over the pillow, her cheek aglow with the softest flush. Gentle snores escaped her, endearing imperfections that Astarion couldn't wait to tease her about.
But, alas, frustration welled within him, realizing that she had fallen asleep thirsty, despite his intentions to provide her with water. The cruel echoes of Cazador's taunts began to resurface, threatening to engulf him, again.
Lost in his thoughts, Astarion placed the water flask beside Tav's bedroll, his gaze lingering on her lovely sleeping form. With a sigh, he decided to retreat to his own tent, grappling with the turmoil within.
Yet, as he reached the tent's exit, a sudden rustle drew his attention. Tav sat up, still half in the realm of dreams.
"Astarion?" she murmured, her voice like a tender melody. He turned back, whispering gently, "Darling, I'm sorry if I startled you."
Tav, her eyes now alert, noticed the water flask and eagerly grasped it. She drank greedily. She sighed in contentment, the thirst sated. A stray drop of water traced a tantalizing path down her throat, a sight that held Astarion's attention like a moth to a flame.
"Thank you, Astarion," Tav said, her eyes bright with gratitude. Unable to resist, Astarion returned to her side, crouching down to fluff her pillow.
"Now, dear, as you are satisfied, go back to sleep. You need to rest" he whispered tenderly, a voice meant only for the two of them.
The droplet of water that escaped Tav’s lips from her greedy drinking, caught Astarion’s attention yet again. His slender fingers reached out, delicately tracing the path of the glistening droplet on Tav's collarbone. As his touch brushed against her skin, a small, contented sound escaped her lips—almost a meow. Astarion couldn't help but chuckle softly, finding an unexpected delight in Tav's response.
In response, Tav's delicate hand rose to meet his face, guiding him closer. Her lips met his cheek, a kiss tender and pure, devoid of any insistent hunger or fervent desire. It was a simple exchange of warmth, a gentle touch.
Astarion succumbed to the moment, closing his eyes. He let it all go, releasing the pent-up tension that had plagued him. The touch of her lips on his cheek carried a healing power, and he allowed the weight of his burdens to slip from his shoulders.
He released a heavy, weary sigh, a sound that spoke volumes of the relief he felt.
The kiss upon Astarion's cheek stopped abruptly. Tav looked at Astarion. Her arched brow signalled her concern, her gaze penetrating his defences. Astarion felt an unfamiliar vulnerability wash over him, his carefully constructed façade crumbling in her perceptive presence. This level of exposure was uncharted territory for him, and his usual bravado faltered in the face of her discerning gaze.
He began to formulate a quick, witty retort, his intention to deflect the conversation and retreat to his tent. Yet, before he could utter a word, Tav spoke.
"I heard noises coming out of your tent," she stated matter-of-factly, her words landing like an unspoken challenge.
Astarion's lips curled into a wry smile, his instinct to deflect kicking in. "Mmmm, sounds so enticing. What type of noises, darling?" he purred, mischief dancing in his eyes. "Could you specify?" He playfully wiggled his eyebrows, turning the conversation into a suggestive banter. It was a familiar tactic, one that allowed him to maintain his emotional distance and shield his vulnerabilities.
"Looks like you were dreaming about something delicious."He purred.
Tav chuckled, a warm counterpoint to Astarion's banter. She sat up, fully awake now, though weariness still clung to the corners of her eyes. Her fingers reached for the ruffled collar of his shirt, adjusting it with a gentle touch.
"It sounded like someone was having a bad time," she observed smoothly, her touch light as she tapped his chin.
Astarion's elegant eyebrow arched in feigned nonchalance. "It was almost like you had a bad dream," Tav continued, her fingers tracing a soothing path along his jawline. "However, I'm not really sure, as I don't know if vampires dream at all. I might be wrong." She withdrew her hand, resting it in her lap. "But I just hope that you're okay."
The abrupt absence of her touch left Astarion feeling strangely empty, and he reached out to take her hand, pressing it against his cheek as he nuzzled it.
Another sigh escaped him, and he couldn't help but feel the profound injustice of his plight—haunted by the spectres of his painful past, tormented even in his sleep. However, in this moment, with Tav's gentle presence, he found consolation.
Her touch required nothing in return, offering solace without expectation. Astarion knew that if he chose to get up and leave now, (run away) Tav would respect his decision. She might ask countless questions later, but her inquiries would always be respectful.
Still holding onto Tav's hand and nuzzling it, Astarion mumbled into her palm, "Yes, and no."
Tav blinked in confusion, her voice soft as she whispered, "What?"
He halted his nuzzling and explained, "In certain circumstances, vampires can dream, yes. But it depends. Day sleep is less 'sleep' and more 'corpse.' It should be dreamless." He felt a surge of irritation, his voice taking on an edge. "But as I'm not fully a vampire, just a spawn that used to be an elf, I usually rest in a half-meditative state." He stopped abruptly, letting out an exasperated sigh and theatrically dropping his head. "Or maybe that tadpole is screwing with my mind."
Tav nodded in agreement, her expression reflecting a shared exasperation.
"Yeah, that little tentacle prick" she murmured, the weariness in her voice echoing Astarion's own sentiment.
A comfortable silence descended between them, a sanctuary of understanding amid their shared struggles.
Chapter 1 - Nightmares of the Past
MASTERLIST
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lovrspell · 1 month
Text
You're used to it.
He only needs half of the rest you do, so, when you don't share a nap together, Astarion watches you as you sleep — and if you do rest with him, he stirs way before you and ends up doing just that: staring at you. You've grown accustomed to it over time, despite it creeping the fuck out of you at first.
Now, if you happen to open your eyes during the night as you toss and turn, the sight of a pair of glowing red eyes on you doesn't seem to have much of an effect anymore.
Sure, it can be romantic: your vampire elf boyfriend prefers spending precious time he could as well use for other important matters watching you drool and snore.
However, you'll never forget the very first time you caught him doing so.
You could physically feel something wasn't right, even in your slumber. To think that one can simply realize that they're are being observed through their sixth sense seems crazy in itself, but you didn't think that it also applied during sleep — it seemed unlikely. Well, one night, with a turmoil in your heart and a distant and confused feeling that something bad was about to happen, you woke up, flinching, to a rather goosebumps inducing sight.
He looked like a demon. In the diminished light that emanated from the night light on your bedside table, you could catch a glimpse of a concentrated, unmoving serious expression on his face that made him look particularly menacing.
For a moment, you hadn't even recognized him before the outline of curls around his head took on a clearer shape every time you blinked.
“Had a bad dream?” Astarion's voice awakened you from your torpor, sultry and veiled by an affectionate candour, typical of his tone when he speaks to you (even when he teases you).
“...You scared me.”
“I'm just looking at you.”
“Yeah, that's why.”
He chuckled from his nose, leaning closer, and in the bat of an eye he was already on top of you. “I can hear your heart beating.” he murmured, leaning over you and placing a cold, dry kiss on your forehead. “Close your eyes, dear. I promise I'll look away every once in a while.” he sounded amused, which didn't surprise you. It was like he was waiting for you to wake up on purpose to play with you a little and entertain himself in your waking presence, even if only for a few minutes.
Your mind was still a haze as you blinked, trying to adjust your vision to the dark further, but your mind didn't let you fight against that dizzy feeling for long as Astarion's lips trailed kisses down your neck, his cold hands gently tracing your sides.
Sometimes, as dawn breaks and an impatient boredom grips him, Astarion's eagerness to stir action, particularly if it involves teasing you, prompts him to awaken you in his unique way: gentle squeezes of your waist and shoulders, tiny wet kisses, low calls of your name...
Until you do wake up, mumble a few intelligible words (probably along the lines of ‘I was fucking sleeping’) and he'd just be happy that you're awake.
He can't help it: he gets needy for you attention, at times.
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astarion-approves · 9 months
Note
Tav making astarion a flower crown?
Astarion x GN! reader
Tav makes a flower crown for Astarion. 400+ words drabble
Fluff, just 100% fluff, short and sweet. Third person. No beta and rushed proof reading.
----
Through the woods and over countless bridges, Tav was always stopping to pick up a flower along the way. Didn’t matter if it was raining, if there was a battle waiting in the distance, or if the team was exhausted and needed to stop for the night— Tav was always grabbing flowers.
None of the others saw exactly what they were doing with them, mostly assuming it had something to do with creating potions or that it dealt with their magical abilities. Sorcerers were always a strange breed after all.
Perhaps chewing on some flowers would grant them the ability to talk to animals or even as a quick caffeine boost. They all paid no mind to it.
At night, for weeks, Tav would sit away from the rest of the group, fiddling with something in their lap, little glows of light coming from them as they worked in silence.
But then, one morning, Astarion woke up to a surprise waiting beside him.
A crown made entirely of flowers, little daisies and peonies, roses and hydrangea, lillies and buttercups, more flowers than he could even name or count. They were shrunken down so that such a wide variety could fit in a single crown. Their stems weaved together in such a delicate and elegant design. Each flower looked like it just bloomed for the first time, even when Astarion recognized some of them as being picked from the ground weeks ago.
“What’s this?” He picked it up with careful hands, and a sudden warmth flowed through his fingertips and down his arms.
“It—“ Tav sat in their own bedroll, watching Astarion as he studied the crown. Tav was nervous, their hands closed together and blush filling their cheeks. “It’s a flower crown.”
Astarion snorted. “Yes, I know that. Allow me to rephrase. Why the flower crown?”
Tav took a breath, their eyes cast down words as they spoke quietly, “We don’t know what the future holds with these tadpoles and… The crown— it’s enchanted. Protection from sunlight. The flowers will absorb any sun that touches you.”
“You’re telling me,” Astarion began, his lips pressing together for just a moment. “That you… made me a crown to protect me from the sun?”
“Y-yes, but I can’t guarantee that it works. I just… I wanted to at least try.”
“Without asking for anything in return?”
Tav shrugged. “We’re friends, why would I?”
Astarion sighed and put the crown on, looking up to the sky he saw that the day was mostly overcast, but it felt like the sun was shining directly on him and keeping him warm.
He would never admit how good it felt.
“Well, how’s it look?” Astarion leaned back, facing Tav and posing with the crown. “Am I still as handsome as ever?”
Tav smiled. “Always.”
It felt strange having someone you barely knew care so much for you… and to expect nothing in return. Now Astarion felt all warm inside, his heart aching as he gazed back at Tav.
And it wasn’t because of the crown.
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a-case-of-attachment · 5 months
Text
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A continuation of this.
Astarion was relentless in his need to get you away from Gale’s wandering lips and pathetically sad and hopeful kicked puppy attitude, silently seething as he dragged you along behind him. His grip was tight on your arm, probably too tight if he was being honest but he couldn’t bring himself to let go of you. He knew he was being foolish, but Astarion couldn’t help but feel that if he let you go you would be gone, running back to Gale like a moth to a flame.
You had looked so happy sat there with Gale, all bright smiles and casual affection like it was nothing to open yourself up to another. Had it been that easy for you to be like that with Astarion? He could recall your smiles, your gentle laughter along with the teasing and somewhat sarcastic back and forth you two had going. It had felt easy at the time, but had it actually been so or were his memories tainted by his own need for you to want something from him?
Astarion knew he could be charming and sweet. After all, those were the traits that had made him such an effective seducer, but he also knew that he could be difficult sometimes, rude and a little shut off from others even when honesty would serve him better. He was selfish, there was no denying that, but he was also cold and calculating, often working out how best to use someone to his advantage before using his charm and tempting smiles to get what he wanted. Astarion was trying with you though. Trying to be a better person and letting you in closer than he had anyone else in the better part of two centuries. But was it enough?
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He hated the fact that blasted wizard was getting to him, but Astarion couldn’t stop himself from beginning to question why you had stayed by his side for so long. Gale wouldn’t hide himself from you like Astarion had. He wouldn’t deny you any part of himself whilst trying to cover it up with pretty lies and sugar-coated words. Everything about Astarion was a performance, designed to misdirect and mislead the audience. He didn’t want people looking to closely, didn’t want the attention the truth got him. The sad reality was he simply didn’t trust people, couldn’t trust people, not after everything he had been through and he wasn’t about to show weakness to just anyone when he needed to be strong and untouchable to survive. You were infuriatingly different though. You did care, Astarion was sure of it and if there was anyone, he was going to let see him at his most vulnerable then, well, it could only ever be you. So why did he feel so hollow all of a sudden? Like he had already lost you before he had the chance to really have you in the first place.
The trees and undergrowth suddenly gave way and Astarion stumbled slightly as he stepped out unexpectedly into a clearing. It’s not that big, probably smaller than the average tavern and if he was so inclined Astarion could probably make it to the other side with a few long strides. It is unassumingly quaint though, the gaps in the otherwise thick canopy allowing the silvery moonlight to give the small space an almost otherworldly glow. In any other circumstance it would be disgustingly romantic, somewhere Astarion would have whisked you off to to whisper sweet nothings in your ear whilst making your body singing under his skilled touch. Not tonight though. Tonight he couldn’t care less, taking a few seconds to gain his bearings before he took a sure step forward, intent on getting you across to the other side and as far away from Gale as he could. You apparently, had other ideas though.
“Enough!” you shouted suddenly, digging in your heels and yanking your arm from his grip. Astarion let you go, coming to a standstill at the edge of the clearing and looking back at you with thinly veiled impatience. You glared back, fists clenched at your sides and shoulders noticeably tensed. “What in the hells was that Astarion!” In a nearby tree birds took flight, frightened away from their nests by your angry yell. Astarion flinched slightly, shame settling uncomfortably in his chest. There was a possibility, and a small one at that, that he might have overreacted, but could you really blame him? Gale had overstepped yet again, and you had just looked at the walking bomb like the idiot you were, all lost and confused like you couldn’t possibly fathom someone was actually interested in you in such a way.
Astarion had every right to whisk you off. Had every right to be angry and jealous too, but that didn’t mean he liked it. He hated being forced to feel all these emotions that he had stamped down for so long, unaccustomed to anything but pain and desperation. It left him feeling exposed and raw in a way he wasn’t used to. Unfortunately, when he was feeling cornered and out of his depth Astarion had a bad habit of lashing out at people, uncaring as he spat honey covered poison in an attempt to regain control of something he probably never would.
He hated himself for it, even as he practically leered at you, his lips curling up into a smirk. “Come now darling, I was doing us all a favour,” Astarion laughed, waving his hand dismissively in the air. “It was starting to get a little sad.” Your breath caught, Astarion able to hear your heartbeat pick up ever so slightly. It had been the wrong thing to say but it had come so naturally, to be dismissive and cruel when it came to the feelings of others. Especially now when his own emotions were getting the better of him, uncertainty and doubt mixing with anger and jealousy. “Honestly, for a man who claims to be so smart he can be rather dense.”
Your eyes narrowed; arms now crossed over your chest and very clearly unimpressed with his cruel words towards the wizard. “You done?” Astarion’s smirk fell slightly at your sharp tone, his centuries worth of skill faltering when faced with the rather real possibility that he was ruining the only good relationship he had ever had. Fear crept in, Astarion unable to stop his intrusive thoughts from taking over his already compromised mind. He had been afraid of losing things before, things like his freedom, his food, his life. Never before though had he been so scared of losing another person before. He didn’t like it, the panic making his throat feel tight and his hands twitch in some sort of aborted need to touch you. To wrap his arms around you and pull you tight against him, refusing to let you go ever again.
Astarion swallowed noticeably, trying to force the lump that was forming in his throat down. Scoffing, he adjusted his stance, making sure he looked as casual and unbothered by all this as he could. “I don’t know what you are talking about darling. All I did was save you from having to suffer through Gale’s rather pitiful attempts of seduction.” They really had been atrocious, awkward to, like the man didn’t have a suave bone in his body. You hadn’t needed to be subjected to that and lucky enough for you Astarion had been there to chase the cretin off. Unless, of course, you hadn’t wanted the wizard gone.
“Astarion,” your voice was thick with warning, the muscles in your jaw visible twitching as you clenched your teeth. Foolishly though, Astarion didn’t listen. He was on a roll, his anger and jealousy in full force as he let his emotions taint his words. “But if you’re into tragic little magicians who are already hopelessly in love with a goddess then please, accept my sincerest apology for disturbing you.”
“Astarion.”
“Though if you are planning on slipping into his bedroll tonight might I suggest you get him to cast a silencing spell beforehand. I doubt any of us want to hear him grunting like a stuck pig. Oh, and maybe get yourself a healing balm. I would imagine that beard of his would leave an awful rash between your le…”
“That’s enough!”
Astarion’s mouth snapped shut at your angry outburst. He wouldn’t be surprised if they had heard you back at camp, having shouted loud enough to cut through his rude and somewhat crude words. You looked so angry, shoulders tenses and hands curled into fists at your sides. He had seen you angry before, all righteous fury on the battlefield and smouldering hatred when pretending amongst the absolute. You had never been angry at him before though. Annoyed and suspicious yes but never angry, not even when you had awoken to him hovering over you, mouth open wide and fangs glistening as he practically salivated over how perfect you would taste on his tongue. He hadn’t thought it possible for you to look at him in such a way, but it seemed he had been mistaken because there you were, eyes dark and dangerous as you watched him intently, waiting for him to do or say something but for once Astarion found himself at a loss, his quick wit and sharp tongue failing him spectacularly.
You sighed loudly when it became clear that he wouldn’t be the first to break the tense silence, your shoulders slumping and the stench of pain and disappointment thickening in the air. “Look, I don’t know why you’re being like this or what you think you're going to accomplish here but I can’t do this with you anymore.” You sounded tired, heartbroken even and Astarion felt his own chest tighten in response. Some part of him had known it was coming, that things had been too good to be true, but it still hurt none the less. Even more so knowing that he only had himself to blame, but who had he been trying to fool? Someone like you was never going to find their happy ever after with the likes of him. After all he was just a broken and twisted monster with nothing to his name apart from the trail of pain and suffering he had left behind him. He had been delusional to think this thing between you could be anything more than the tentative and somewhat convenient friendship you had allowed it to be.
“Well,” he said stupidly, not really knowing what to say, “best I not keep you then.” Astarion stepped back slightly, angling his body to create a space for you to slip through and make your way back to camp and most likely right back into Gale’s open arms. Shame and rejection burned heavy in his heart, so much so that Astarion couldn’t bear to even look at you. He turned his head to the side, his eyes slipping closed as he waited for you to move past him. He heard you sigh, the rustle of fabric as you moved and the slight crunch of grass under your booted feet as you slowly made your way towards him.
He felt so alone, a pathetic and useless mess of a man as he let you slip through his fingers like grains of sand. It had been so easy to begin with, all charming smiles and flowery compliments that had you practically glowing under his attention. It had all been an act then, a means to an end that was supposed to keep him safe and protected within your close circle of confidants and friends. He had planned it all out but the one thing he hadn’t taken into consideration was, well, you and now he was left with nothing to show for his efforts other than a few tainted memories and the knowledge that he had been the one to drive you away into the arms of another man. He truly was incapable of doing anything right, just like Cazador had always said he was. A beautiful idiot.
A gentle hand cupped his cheek and Astarion startled, his head whipping round as his hand shot out to curl around your wrist, preventing you from moving it away or any closer. You were smiling softly at him but there was nothing happy about it, the sadness crystal clear in your eyes. Astarion could taste your unshed tears, see them clinging to your eyelashes. He wanted to reach out, to gently run his thumbs under your eyes and wipe away the tears as he whispered his apology, but he had never been good at admitting he had been wrong or even saying he was sorry. He hated that you were looking at him like he had broken you but despite how badly he wanted to take it all back the words wouldn’t come. So instead, the two of you just stood there, staring at one another and waiting for someone to do or say something to break the silence that felt like it was going to suffocate him.
Your shoulders slump, the sad little smile you had been supporting slipping into a frown. He can see it in your eyes, see you searching for the right thing to say and Astarion wants nothing more than to run before you get the chance to break his heart before you had even known it was yours to shatter. He’s moving your hand back towards you and already stepping away when he stills, your words nothing but a whisper but they seemed like a shout to him. “I’m sorry.” He doesn’t think he would be able to keep the confusion off his face even if he had tried.
He doesn’t understand. Are you apologising for ending things between the two of you? Not that either of you had actually put a name to what the two of you were doing. Maybe you were apologising for turning your fondness towards Gale? It hurt, more than Astarion would ever admit to, but he had expected something like this to happen, waiting for the moment you got bored of the pretty little elf and moved on. That’s all he was. Something to pass the time with that looked good both in and out of his clothes and knew how to leave their partner satisfied. No one has ever given him an apology before, not that he can remember anyway, and he doesn’t know what to do with one now that you had whispered it so sweetly to him. Astarion doesn’t understand you or this entire situation and it frustrates him to no end because how is he supposed to react in a way that will please you if he has no clue what you are even trying to do here?
His grip on your wrist had gone lose whilst he panicked externally and without him keeping you at bay you easily put your hand back on his cheek. Your warm, so much warmer than him and it feels so much like being bathed in sunlight to feel you against him. Despite knowing better Astarion can’t help but turn into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed as he basked in your sunlight. What was the harm in enjoying this for just a second longer? Astarion was a selfish creature at heart, and you would be gone soon enough, so why not? Why not take this one thing for himself. Just this once. Just this.
“Astarion.” He doesn’t want to look at you. To look at you would be to acknowledge that this confusing and all consuming thing between the two of you was over. He doesn’t want that. Wants to hold onto you for just that little bit longer. You are insistent though, using your hand on his cheek to turn his head towards you and no matter how much he wishes to prolong this moment Astarion knows that isn’t his choice to make. So he looks, opening his eyes and meeting yours, waiting for you to throw him away just like everyone else had.
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@mangomonk @skittleabyss @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @atsv-obsession @duckyhowls @tamwritesstuff @unrestrictedbyreality @dinstailor @vhaldren @ammistorm @aoirohi
I think that’s everyone! Please do let me know if I have missed anyone though and if you want to be tagged in the third and final part!
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comatosebunny09 · 6 months
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insecurities | astarion a.
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summary: “why don’t you like me?” he asks, his voice small amid the symphony of the forest dwellers. you choke on your spittle. how unlike your undead friend to sound so unsure of himself.
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The night is quiet.
Most of your companions have retired to their tents. Tending to their weapons, reading, sleeping.
You’re left by the fire, snapping twigs to further kindle it. You smile quietly. The atmospheric pop and fizz bring you comfort as a summery breeze slides in.
You turn away in search of more wood when you hear a weighted sigh, followed by the thunk of the log behind you.
Seems someone’s decided to impede on your party of one.
You spin around to see your favorite vampire sitting opposite you on the log, his features accentuated by the fire. Astarion watches you with a pout on his lips and his brows knit together. You snort, wholly prepared for him to complain about something.
“What’s wrong, sunshine?” you query, squatting and poking around the campfire. “Our lodgings not to your liking? You break a nail? A rat crawl up into your ass?” Your eyes crinkle with mirth. 
Astarion leans back on his hands, one leg crossed over the other. He stares at you with those petulant eyes, studying you for a beat. It’s unlike him to be so serious. Silence stretches between you for a moment longer before he asks, “Why don’t you like me?”
You nearly choke on your spittle. His brazenness floors you. Literally. You plop down on the ground, dusting off your hands, your expression bemused. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, come now.” He crosses his arms. Looks off to the side, face screwing up into a scowl. “You haven’t slept with me. You shrug off all my advances. Hells, it feels like you won’t even give me the time of day.”
Another snort. Your tone drips with sarcasm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I had to sleep with someone to show I cared.”
Astarion scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “Bullshit. Have you seen me? I’m irresistible. The very definition of sex on legs, so I’ve been told. People would kill for a chance at me. And I would’ve bedded you a thousand times over, had you stopped playing hard to get.”
You sigh. Laugh a little disbelievingly, slowly standing. “Astarion—”
“I’m not your type, am I? Do you even have a type? It’s Halsin, isn’t it? That oaf of a druid.”
You caution a few steps around the fire towards him, your hands stretched out placatingly. You’re exasperated. “Astarion, look—”  
“I don’t blame you. I would’ve bedded him, too.”
“Astarion!” 
You’re in front of him now. Bent over, gathering his icy cheeks into your palms. He looks at you with confusion marring his features. You have his attention, nonetheless.  
Your eyes gloss over with wetness. A forlorn smile rounds your lips. Your chest swells with emotion, and you tuck some errant curls behind Astarion’s ear.
“I thought we knew each other better than that.” You swallow before wetting your lips. You look down at the ground, inhaling deeply. Kneel before him, taking up his hands with all the gentleness of the world, your eyes shining with the threat of tears.
“You are more than your body, Astarion. More than some fling. More than a romp in the dirt. I wish you could see that. Sex is nice. Gods, it can be such an incredible thing. But I don’t need it to know I mean something to you. And I don’t need it to show you I adore you.”
Astarion blinks. For a moment, only the two of you exist in this world of chirping crickets and crackling fire. Tenderness flashes across his face before the vampire chuckles softly, patting your hands, squeezing them. His lashes flutter. He’s breathtaking.
“You adore me, do you?” Astarion purrs, his cockiness returning tenfold. “I am rather amazing, aren’t I?” He leans back again to have a look at his nails, radiating smugness.
You snort, standing and wiping your hands on your breeches. “You just had to muck it up, didn’t you?” You can’t help the quirk of your lips as you turn back to tend to the fire.
“Darling. Who would I be if I didn’t?”
“And to think, I was just about to kiss you.”
The indignant sound Astarion releases behind you makes your ribs blossom with pride.
Ah, well. Maybe next time.
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