#astarion ancunin hcs

[cosmicamor]

⌞ 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐍 𝐏 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒 ⌝

⭑ wanting to take care of astarion after a rough day

⭑ he loves the way you feel wrapped around him. so much so that he's constantly losing his mind thinking about it.

⭑ he makes you fuck in the sunlight every chance he gets

⭑ when he gets lil too sassy so you need to show him who's boss

⭑ when you get a lil too sassy and he has to show you who's boss

⭑ for my girlies that can squirt, he’d have you gushing constantly

⭑ oh to be taking care of him like this *drools*

⭑ he's absolutely obsessed with how curvy you are

⭑ astarion knows fine art when he sees it. that's why he makes sure yout titties always get the attention they deserve

⭑ i don't know what to caption this, i just think it's very pretty and very star coded

ᯓ★ disclaimer : nsfw. minors dni. all character p link posts contain links from x, some of which may be unavailable if you don’t have an account or have been removed by the original posters. i cannot help this but i will try my best to update links when i can. sometimes trying to open them a few times works x

[stars-and-clouds]

Astarion Romance Headcanons 🥀

SFW:

Side glances when you're besides him

Full on staring when you're not

Immediately looking away when you catch him

"You know the way he looks at you, don't you, soldier?"

His pinky itching towards yours when you're walking, wanting to hold your hand but unsure because, is it too much? Will you reject him?

His hands scrunching up your shirt tightly whenever you hug. He's always the last to let go.

You hold on longer and longer each time because he doesn't want to let go.

His kisses are tender and needy.

He likes the warmth of your hands.

Thinking of what tones will suit your perfume the best. He'll gift it to you after all this is over.

He'll sew the holes or tears in your clothes over the night and pretend he doesn't know what happened next morning.

When you move to kiss his cheek he will grimace in annoyance but lean in as you do it.

"Be careful around Astarion, (Tav). He's not serious about you.", the others will warn you. And Astarion will worry you'll heed their words more than his so he'll do so much to prove his love to you, not knowing that you already trust him (even if that is an objectively stupid thing to do lmao).

He started sleeping next to you from the moment you had sex but ever since you've entered the shadowlands, he ends up cuddling in the middle of the night. He misses the sun.

He likes kissing the palm of your hand or its back.

Likes to pack your bag before you leave camp.

"No one's ever going to love me like that again."

Ever since you told him that there's more to him than just beauty and sex, that he's hilarious, for instance, he finds ways to make you laugh. He loves it. He's started being a lot more sarcastic and makes more jokes just to hear your laughter. He'll never admit it, of course. Other than maybe when it's only you two.

Doesn't believe he will be able to love again if you let go of him.

"Don't be so nice to me." he says with round, needy and pleading eyes.

Thinking of ways he can show others you're together so others know you're not available.

Hiding his jealousy, terribly.

He will rip the throat out of anyone with malicious intent towards you.

"I will wait the whole of my life for you, Astarion." He doesn't believe it at first, but the longer you go on without sex the safer he feels and the more he wants you.

NSFW:

He sometimes cries silently at night, wishing he could make love to you without it feeling so tainted. He wants it so badly, but his past experience prohibits it. The pain of wanting something and being unable to have it only because of himself is too much. He blames himself too sometimes. Wishing he could give you more.

"I don't mind waiting.", you'd say.

"I do. I can't have you, no matter how much I want you.", he'd say.

When you cuddle him sensing he's upset, he will bury his face in your neck to hide his tears. The smell of you is comforting.

Needing you everytime you're tender with him.

Getting aroused when you hug during a kiss.

Wanting to kiss your skin all over, to make you cry from pleasure as you bury your face in his neck.

Wanting you to hold on to him for dear life as you climax.

When he's finally comfortable enough and takes charge of his own sexuality, he'll be so needy.

Realising that the two nights he had sex with you were nothing compared to how good making love to you feels.

When you give up all control to him, letting him do to you as he wants, the pleasure is almost too much bear. The power he feels is palpable and knowing it is you who trusts him so much will drive him near mad.

He will lose control many times so you have a safe word.

You both think of the stupidest word possible as a safe word. Something that makes you both laugh when it's used.

He likes over stimulating you, making you beg and he'll kiss you to calm you.

"It's okay, you can do it, darling.", he'll say stroking you even further and kissing your tears.

"Does that feel good, my love?"

The more you beg the more he loves it.

He likes playing with your hands, holding them in his, touching your fingers, comparing them to his while you rest on his chest, still warm from him being inside of you.

Resting his head against your chest to hear your heartbeat.

Staring at your face and body intently. Taking in every little reaction you make and replaying them over in his head throughout the day.

Staring at you longingly when you're both with the squad, failing terribly at focusing in battle or conversation.

Getting aroused when you're covered in blood.

Seeing you fighting, in general, turns him on. The smell of your sweat, your rapid heart beat, the way your body moves, all of it now only reminds him of making love to you.

Telling you to say his name whenever he's feeling good and you'll chant it as you cum. He loves how it sounds from your lips.

Resting his forehead against yours as he's close to cumming.

"Look at me.", he'll command you.

He likes when your hands rake his hair, pull his hair, tug it whatever. That slight bit of pain arouses him. Better yet, if you bury your nails into his skin.

He likes to look at you falling asleep. It's such a gentle thing. How can someone so strong otherwise be so soft around him? Why him? Why did someone like you choose someone like him? He can't believe he has you.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50833876/chapters/128419966 I am updating these hcs on my ao3, if anyone is interested!

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

astarion ancunin hcs {pt. 1}

once he's comfortable with you, he adores non-sexual physical intimacy

playing with his hair will calm him down almost instantly

he's protective and possessive, so he'll keep a hand on you at all times, usually on your back

loves when you initiate any kind of physical contact

always asks to do something before he does, in either a sexual or nonsexual context

he's easily jealous and can sometimes get very possessive; for the first time in 200 years, he has someone who genuinely loves him and he hates the possibility that he might lose you

that possessiveness is obvious when he marks up your neck with bites and hickeys

if he feels like his place in your relationship is threatened in public, he will not hesitate to touch, hold, or kiss you in front of whomever is making a move on you; after some bearing of fangs, whoever it is usually scuttles off very quickly

he definitely feels very undeserving of you and your love and has his days when he's convinced you're going to leave him for someone better when you get the chance, or that he's keeping you from; that insecurity lasts for a very long time

constantly buries his own feelings, so you have to coax them out of him and teach him how to set boundaries and stand up for himself

astarion absolutely LOVES bathing together; he can be very vulnerable with you without sex being expected when you bathe together and it absolutely helps him regain some control and bodily autonomy

he loves gifting you things: jewelry, clothes, weapons, little knickknacks he sees that remind him of you

his elven ears are so sensitive and he absolutely will whine involuntarily when you brush your fingers over them (either on accident while you're touching his curls or on purpose)

speaking of which, astarion loves having his hair played with, it's a huge comfort to him (and another form of physical touch that isn't inherently sexual, so it's one of the ways to ease him back into being intimate and physical)

sexually, he's very switchy; some days he wants to be in control and giving you all the pleasure you deserve, but other days he's more than happy to let you take the lead and love on him

he loves staying up late to have deep talks and watch the sky (sun or moon and stars, it doesn't matter which to him)

cuddle this man. all the time. he's absolutely a cuddle bug. if you don't cuddle him while you go to sleep, he'll be very huffy, and you'll wake up to him curled up around you anyway

he also likes to be the little spoon sometimes, once he's comfortable with you seeing and being wrapped around his back

he will sew everything for you instead of teaching you to do it; he likes being useful in some little way for you (inspired by @aethes-bookshelf's post here because I saw it and went "you are absolutely right")

he commonly speaks to you in Elvish whether you understand it or not; it's absolutely a comfort to him, especially when you start picking up words and understanding some of what he says

contrary to the performances he puts on, astarion is a very gentle lover when he can finally be comfortable and genuine with you. he's quieter, softer, he takes the time to learn you and himself, he lets himself enjoy it; he learns to become a taker, not just a giver

he likes to hold you, however he can, and at the very least always be touching you. an arm around your waist or shoulders, a hand on the small of your back, holding your hand or twining your pinkies together. he can't be touching you, he's standing so close to you that he could be touching you if he moved a centimeter more

he likes to hug you randomly; one of his favorite ways to do it is to come up behind you while you're cooking or talking to someone or looking at yourself in the mirror to get ready so he can surprise you by putting his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder

astarion has a habit of kissing your neck whenever he can, sometimes it's a way to let you know he's hungry, other times when he wants to be intimate, other times just to remind you he loves you

on the same hand, he doesn't always say 'i love you' but instead makes it known through his behavior around you (and the fact that he's constantly looking at you like you are his whole world, because you are)

on the nights when you can't sleep, he reads to you until you drift off because he knows you find his voice soothing

he likes tucking his head into your neck and shoulder when the two of you sleep (which he finds out he actually likes doing every now and then)

the first thing astarion does when he wakes up is pepper you with little kisses on your shoulders, collarbones, cheeks, and forehead

when he's nervous and with people he's okay with knowing that, he'll reach for your hand and touch your fingers to calm down and ground himself. if you wear a ring or multiple rings, he'll play with those

astarion loves it when you call him by a nickname, either a shortened version of his name or a pet name. if he's fed recently and had enough blood, his cheeks will turn this adorable shade of pink when you call him "Star" or "my love" or something similar

how he wakes up from a nightmare changes constantly. the worse the nightmare, the worse his reaction when he wakes up. sometimes it's just a little gasp and his eyes flying open, sometimes it's a yelp and tears, sometimes he's crying before he even wakes up; but every time, his biggest comfort is to cling to you until the panic fades and then curl up in your lap (you've learned to light a candle or summon lights with magic when he wakes up from a nightmare; the shadows make him feel worse)

when you fall asleep outside of bed, he picks you up and carries you to bed and tucks you in—all without waking you

if you are injured at any point and there is no certainty that you'll pull through, he panics. he stays at your side the entire time, even if the smell of your blood is driving him mad, and holds your hand and talks to you, often begging you to wake up, to come back to him, to stay with him; more than once, you've woken up to find him with tears streaked down his face

every time you wake up from an injury and he realizes it, either because he's watching you or because you say hi to get his attention, he smothers you in kisses

once he's no longer starving, he likes to feed from you very slowly, to take his time and enjoy your taste; now that he's promised food, he doesn't feel the need to rush. feeding becomes very sensual, intimate, and personal for the two of you after that

he also loves leaving bites and drinking from you in places the others won't see; it makes him incredibly giddy to know that you let him bite you in places only he will ever see

if he's taller than you, he loves to kiss the crown of your head whenever he can

he will sew up your injuries whenever you need his help with it, even if the sight and smell of your blood makes him salivate

he loves touching your body to see how you react and lets you do the same to learn his own likes and dislikes

matching. outfits. he loves it, loves seeing people realize that you wear the same material and colors and realize what it means. he's very smug when people come to the realization that you're together

he frequently gives you his shirts to sleep in

if you are apart from him for any amount of time, expect to be tackled with a hug the minute you are reunited again

when you have the time, he likes to just lay in bed with you and relax together, half-asleep and cuddling and sometimes mumbling to each other pt. 2 coming soon

[litsenn]

Safe touch

Pairing: Astarion x reader [no gender mentioned] Word count: 1.7K Summary: Astarion is starting to have a panic attack, will you find a way to help him? Read it on AO3

Jaw clenching, alarmed eyes, trembling lips; Astarion isn’t feeling alright. And you, you recognize the first signs of a panic attack.

Approaching carefully, you try to catch his gaze with your own, but it’s shifty, elusive. You know it would be pointless to ask him how he feels.

“Astarion? Maybe you should try to breathe slowly.” You suggests in a gentle whisper.

“I don’t need to breathe.” He snaps, his voice hoarse, bitter, and his fists clenching at his sides. You can almost hear the heavy, painful lump growing in the back of this throat.

You don’t recoil. You’re not letting him down now, but you know you have to proceed carefully.

Your chambers in the Elfsong Tavern are awfully quiet. The other companions are downstairs, and you’re both supposed to join them. But you already know it won’t happen this evening.

“You might not actually need it, but sometimes it helps.”

Astarion shakes his head, his movements sharp. The wince on his face, filled with fear and anxiety, breaks your heart. You never saw him like this before, but you should have expected this to happen. After all, you’ve been back in Baldur’s Gate a few days ago only, and after the spawns’ intrusion the night before, you can’t expect Astarion to feel serene.

You need to be patient with him, and you will. He needs you to be patient.

The tension between the two of you is so heavy you can almost feel its weight on your shoulders, but it won’t stop you. You slowly walk to the bed behind Astarion and sit down on the edge. He observes you from the corner of his eyes but doesn’t make a single move.

“Please, sit with me, Astarion.”

No answer. Your heartbeat quickens with anticipation as you silently beg for him to accept.

After a moment that feels like an eternity, Astarion finally turns around hesitantly and makes a few steps toward the bed. His features are still tense, but they’re also imbued with a disarming vulnerability. You give him a gentle, hopeful smile. When he finally closes the gap between you and sits at your side, his body is still agitated with tremors and he refuses to look you in the eyes.

With great care, you slowly reached out for his hand. As soon as your skin touch, Astarion freeze for a second, before relaxing slightly just enough to let you rest your fingers against his knuckles. Your touch is light as a feather, barely brushing along his fingers. A gentle presence, but not an overwhelming one.

Your eyes never leave his face as you start to take long, deep breaths, quietly encouraging him to mimic you. He hesitates again, frowning as he watches your chest rise and fall rhythmically, the sounds of your breath like a soft music only he can hear. He opens his mouth but doesn’t speak. He breathes. You nod. One inspiration after another. He struggles to match your rhythm but eventually aligns his inspirations with yours. You’re breathing in synch, and you can easily see him relax, if only a little. Shoulders slouching slightly, his eyes finally finding yours. The moment feels precious, sacred almost. For a few long seconds, only the two of you exist, your featherlike touch on his hand, the air that passes between you, the melody of your synchronized breathing. You want to tell him it’s going to be alright. You want to tell him he’s safe. But you know words, right now, are meaningless. Your silent promises carry more truth than any grand declaration.

Another sparkle of relief rises in your chest as you feel his fingers react gently to your touch, intertwining with yours. You give a little squeeze, and he gives you sad smile that touches your soul so deeply you could have wept about it.

Breathing helps but Astarion is still unwell. No longer in panic mode, but clearly dismayed. His fingers are pressed against your palm, and another idea pops up in your mind.

Shifting slowly on the bed, you let go of his hand and sit against the bedstead. Astarion watches in confusion, a disappointed twitch of his eye as your hands part. Crossed-legged, you take a pillow and put it on your lap.

“What are you doing?” he asks in a raw whisper, as if rediscovering his breath was altering his voice.

“I’d like to try something with you, Astarion.”

He looks at you suspiciously, tensing up again.

“Nothing you’re not comfortable with!” You quickly add, desperate to reassure him. “Whatever happens, say the word and everything stops.”

The look on Astarion’s face is still that of suspicion, but you can already detect a few signs of curiosity in the way his lips curls, in the spark in his eyes. As for the tension in his body, that creeping anxiety, it hasn’t receded but it’s under control – maybe too much.

“I’m listening.” He says, his sharp gaze following your every move.

“Would you rest your head against the pillow?”

His eyes widen as he watches you pat the cushion on your lap. “I don’t understand, darling. Why would I…?”

“Please, Astarion. Can you trust me with that? I promise I won’t insist if you don’t like it.”

He lets out a laboured sigh, gazes at the room around you, taking in the quietness of the moment but also the looming threat only he can feel as the night falls upon the city.

You wait silently, until Astarion finally decides to lay down. Resting on his back, his head against the soft pillow, he’s looking up at you. Now you can feel the little tremors in his tensing muscles.

“Thank you…” you whisper, and you mean it. You’re grateful for his trust, for his willingness to give you a chance. “I’m going to touch your hair. Nothing more.”

A sarcastic chuckle leaves his lips. “And why would you do that, darling?”

“Try to relax, please. And let me know if anything feels wrong.”

He shrugs but keeps his eyes on your face. The pressure of his head against your lap is somehow comforting. It’s the first time you see his face from this perspective, and he looks as handsome as usual, albeit the anxiety still haunting his features.

“This is ridiculous.” Astarion winces, obviously unconvinced.

You don’t pay attention to that last remark, moving your hands instead, putting your fingertips against this scalp. Your touch is careful, and you watch Astarion closely, observing his reaction. The vampire spawn doesn’t react immediately, waiting for you to actually do something. Your heart is pounding hard, and you know he can hear it, feel it. You take the time you need to calm down.

When you feel ready, you start combing his silver locks with your fingers. His hair feels like silk, and you can’t help marvelling at its softness. Of course it’s not the first time you touch his hair, but you never really had the opportunity to focus on it before, to really appreciate how soft it is, to observe its luminous shine in the candlelight. For a short moment, you even forget to check on his reaction, your fingers gliding hypnotically through the silky strands.

When you focus on his face again, you instantly notice the change in his features; Astarion has closed his eyes in the meanwhile, the tension is slowly leaving his muscles, but there’s still a confused frown on his brow.

“Is it alright?” you ask hesitantly, as if afraid of his answer.

The nod he gives you is instantaneous, visceral. And it’s followed by a deep, content sigh.

You smile, you can’t help it, and you go on. You play with his hair, brushing ever so slightly against his scalp and forehead, your fingertips tracing his hairline down to his temples. Your nails aren’t that long, not after so many weeks of adventure, and some of them are even broken, but with the tip of them, you follow his hairline until your reach the nape of his neck. A gentle caress there at the top of his spine, and he shivers under your touch.

He’s smiling softly.

Your fingertips keep on travelling through his hair, combing the silver strands, and each time you brush against his ear, a little gasp escapes his lips.

He’s relaxing, progressively, slowly, but it’s working.

“Astarion…?”

“Hmmm?”

“May I touch your face?”

A moment of silence. His eyes are still closed but you can almost see the gears in his mind.

“Yes…”

Tilting your head, you carefully place your thumbs against his temples while your index fingers begin to trace his jawline, gliding down to his chin ever so slowly. Then back up again, across his cheekbones, tracing soft patterns under his eyes and from the corners of them up to his forehead. With infinite care, you let your finger glide along his eyebrows until the frown on his brow finally vanishes.

“Does it feel alright?” You ask softly.

“Keep going, darling… please.”

Your heart skips a beat. Astarion is enjoying this, and so are you.

The whole world around has disappeared, you’re both tucked in your own bubble, safe and finally peaceful.

It’s like a dance, your fingertips on his skin, sweeping away the tension, leaving goosebumps in their trail as they follow the line of his nose, the line of his lips and the corner of his mouth. You can even see that Astarion is trying not to smile, and suddenly, you want to kiss those lips. But you don’t. Not now. This is not about kissing or groping, not even about flirting.

It’s something else. Something that needs no word, no explanation.

Just your touch, safe and soft against his skin, in his hair, and Astarion’s precious mind released from the growing panic that was plaguing it just a moment ago. His body, bruised and abused so many times, finally rediscovering what tenderness truly means, finally understanding that a foreign hand is not necessarily a violent hand. All fingernails don’t scratch and cut, some of them can caress and soothe.

Before long, his features look perfectly peaceful, the fears gone, for now at least. You soon realize that he’s truly resting. Not trancing. Sleeping. You wonder if he’s dreaming, you hope there will be no nightmare, but the slight smile on his lips doesn’t vanish, and you smile with him.

[coyote-ralyn]

Eternal beauty.

I've finally finished the idea that's been capture my mind since the summer.

Traveling in Southeast Asia gave me inspiration.

[thewritetofreespeech]

May I request for Gale and Astarion with a reader who creates cute monsters, pretty please?

They're all sweet and cuddly until it's battle time, only then do they become fierce.

Gale

Gale is fascinated by the process.

As a student and fairly accomplished wizard in the school of Conjuring, Gale is always interested in learning more.

The most he’s ever summon is a fresh pot of tea, and of course Tara. But Tara took a lot more work than just a wave of his hand.

He has all kinds of questions like where they come from? Are they familiars so therefore and exist & are just summoned or are they literally out of thin air? If they are of an independent existence, are they kept like on a farm until needed or where do all of them live?

He does find some of them cute but finds their penchant for destruction more adorable. Perhaps it’s because he can relate.

Astarion

Astarion doesn’t like anything just appearing out of thin air beside him. Especially things that can set him on fire.

When they summon their first creature, Astarion nearly jumps out of his skin.

He tells them that they have to warn him if they are going to do that, and recoils when offered to pet them to get more familiar.

‘Cute’ little beasties aren’t really his thing….

There is one that Astarion is fond of. A beast that looks like an ink doused fox, with 4 violet eyes, 2 sets of ears, and a larger bushy tail. It’s nocturnal, so until it’s summoning ends at dawn it stays with Astarion since he’s up too. The vampire is always a little melancholy in the mornings after it’s summons.

[preciouslittle-bhaalbabe]

Astarion is the type of guy that would say something deeply romantic and sweet then gag at himself immediately afterwards

[nebulousbren]

BG3 Companions Part 1!

Had fun playing around with giving everyone distinct heights/body types. I plan on drawing the rest of the recruitable companions (Halsin, Minthara, Jaheira and Minsc) and maybe even a few fan fave npcs, but was excited to post these guys first.

[devnmon]

dating sweet boy astarion core

SFW/NSFW

Astarion is one to always make sure you have the things you need to be comfortable on your travels. He even slips any extra scrolls he know will benefit you into your pack when you're not looking. And always reminds you how he admires you for making the hard choices on your journey together.

Your star learns how to appreciate a true loving touch because of you. Since then, he's grown touchy more than ever, practically craves it more than a fresh drink of blood.

When he feels safe with you, it's easier for him to be himself and that includes making skin to skin contact with you whenever he can. It's a type of security for him. To make it known how much trust he’s put into you.

Truly enjoys the moments at night before he rests his eyes, the domesticity of how calm and quiet you become when falling into a restful state.

He listens, intently. So intently that the minute you begin to open up to him he holds every detail close to his heart. everything you tell him about your past, the inbetween parts of your life leading up to where you were in that current moment with him. He feels luckier than life to be the individual you entrust with this part of you, with your love, with your life even at times. You're assured he has your back against everything the adventure throws at you. You just didn’t think one of the things thrown at you would be him.

He gets really flustered when you compliment him out of the blue. As in his cheeks turn pink and he brushes it off like nothing. But you reassure him no matter how many compliments it takes.

One thing I fully believe is that he would definitely be the type to pay close attention to what fabrics you admire in the many shops you pass through, only wishing you had enough gold to pay for something nice for yourself. Only to surprise you with a custom made outfit with precisely picked fabrics and tones for you.

Absolutely loves when you read to him in camp; not only does he love to listen to your voice, but he could just about sit there forever until you get tired.

Most definitely takes pride in watching you fight, whether that's speaking an incantation perfectly for a spell or striking a foe with your weapon, he's always one to shower you with praise afterwards.

Astarion is totally sure he's unworthy of your affection after everything he's done. You make him aware of the fact that he deserves you even so.

You first asked him if it was okay to play with his hair while you rested together after a battle. It was then you found the elf to absolutely melt under your soft touches. you're also the only person he allows to play with or touch it.

When you accidentally brushed against his ever so sensitive ears, he just about whined with a desire to chase more of the sensation from you. But in turn… you found out how riled up he could get from it and had to pick and choose when you'd take advantage of it. [more on this later tehe]

He loves to kiss your neck, but what he was surprised to learn is that he loves when his is kissed as well. Especially when you run your fingers over his adams apple. Just him learning how to accept a new form of touch that makes the hair on his skin stand tall.

He was always on the giving end of affection when he was forced to lure pretty things back for his master, but now that he's free, he learns to welcome your touches and receive them without hesitation.

When you wear rings for whatever reason, whether because you like them or for their arcane abilities, he loves to slip them off by way of his rogue skill, playing with them on his own fingers before you even notice. You usually have to give him a few kisses to get him to give them back.

Speaking of rings, once he realizes how much you mean to him, he slips away from camp and finds a jewelry shop, choosing a ring he felt would compliment your style and one he knew he'd love to see you wear for him every day. Like a reminder of the bond you two share. Once he gifts it to you, you're so enthralled that you take off one of your random ones you thought was pretty, and give it to him without hesitation. Perhaps it was one that could always locate him or give him an extra boost in battle. Either way, he would never take it off.

You like to make silly jokes about vampire myths, like ones about garlic and crucifixes to make him chuckle.

Astarion adores the little nicknames you give him, whether theyre a sweet petname or a non-serious one that you knew he liked to laugh with you at.

Always makes sure you're tucked into his body when you fall asleep next to him in camp. But when he's the one to fall asleep first, he wakes the next morning to your arms wrapped around his waist, making sure he's close to you.

Loves giving you forehead kisses. especially after battle when you run to his arms to make sure he's alright, nothing bruised, broken or cursed.

Astarion definitely has some very severe abandonment issues, so if you wander too far from him he's the first to reach out through the tadpole and ask where you've gone. When he does find you again he sticks to your side like glue, lacing your fingers together.

NSFW

Astarion would be the type to worry he wouldn't be able to hold out long enough in bed for you both to be satisfied. It's in the moment you both decide to take it slow during your first time. With you, Astarion learns how to control his body and hold out for as long as you needed him to. Because. He reaaallyyy likes you. He wouldn't want to get all worked up and expend himself before he'd even gotten the chance to touch you.

Considering Astarion's history, he would want to be dominant in the bedroom after not having control over his life and decisions for years. He takes pride in being in control and you simply let him because not only does it look good on him, but there's a certain flair in the way he smiles when you do exactly as he says.

Though after a while he finds being in charge most of the time gets him pent up in ways he can't begin to imagine. The two of you are intimate enough that he finds himself wanting you to take pleasure from him. He desires your dominating touch over him and hopes you'll agree when he asks you about it. So when you do, he's enthralled with excitement and practically itches with anticipation at first sight of dominance from you.

Astarion's ears are sensitive. It's not just the elven shape or vampiric hearing that makes them so, but he quite enjoys the way you softly touch and kiss them that it gets him riled up more than he can fathom. He once dreamt of you touching them during sex and woke up in cold sweats with a raging hard on.

Thus, he absolutely will whine involuntarily when you brush your fingers over them, either on accident while you're touching his curls or purposely.

He hasn't had someone touch him in a loving way in so long, and the first time you decide to have sex, it's an emotional and vulnerable thing for him. He may shed more than a few tears during and after, a statement that shows how his vulnerability shines through when he trusts someone enough.

Each thrust fills you with the devotion he carries in his heart, pledging himself to you over and over. When you praise as he brings you to the peak of your pleasure, it’s enough to make him moan just from that.

He tells you "i love you" when he comes, breathlessly as he ties your soul to his in an everlasting knot.

One night if you've indulged on a bottle of wine or two, he'll drink from you to quite literally get drunk off your blood. Not only does the closeness and intimacy of the act turn you on, but the way his lips suck against your neck has you grinding up against his thigh. He takes so much pride in the way your body responds to him.

The first night you touch him intimately, he's brazen with the sounds he makes since he's still trying to make sense of the fact that you want him like this… And it's because you love him that you want him to know how much you adore and see the good in him. It's something sentimental and sensual to you both at the same time.

You take your time when touching him not just because dragging it out pulls more godly sounds from him, but because you know the second he comes it's over for you. Astarion is of course going to tease and relentlessly drag your pleasure out the same way you've done for him.

On the terms of aftercare, Astarion strokes your hair and is one to ask if everything he did was alright with you. If he was rougher on you during sex, he would make sure you know he didn't mean any of the vulgar things he's said. That also goes along the lines of when he punishes you for teasing him or being reckless during battle. He's always concerned about your wellbeing and state in your afterglow. It looks exceptionally good on you when you know how much he loves and adores you.

[revoltingbones]

Wyll just so happens to kiss Astarion on the side of the neck that doesn't have Cazador's bite. Perhaps it feels too intimate yet. Perhaps he senses some discomfort in Astarion when he does kiss over the bite scar. Perhaps Wyll's kiss animation is set to always kiss on that side and I'm reading entirely too far into something that's simply coded into how Wyll moves.

We will just never know.

[frigidbatart]

Vampire Wyllstarion

So I always wondered what it would be like if Astarion accidentally brought Wyll back as a target. Obviously I feel it would be an interesting thing for Cazador to have to son of the grand duke as a spawn, I could definitely see a lot of political drama there,furthermore, I would be interested in seeing how the relationship between wyll and Astarion plays out. I’m sensing a codependent bond is formed from it where they remain heavily attached to each other in a somewhat unstable way. Anyway vampire Wyll 😮

(P.S. I think Astarion is trying to copy Wyll’s Prince Charming-ness and protective chivalry here but it just ends up imagining how to punish people who wrong wyll in a very Cazador-esque manner lol)

[coffeeanddonutscafe]

The Camp and the Uncanny Astarion

Hey everybody! Here's a continuation of the uncanny Astarion headcanons! This time, as seen through the eyes of the team members. In Part 1, we’ve got: Gale, Shadowheart, Karlach, Lae'zel, and Wyll. Stay tuned for Part 2, featuring: Halsin, Jaheira, and Minsc — plus a special bonus with Minthara, Myzora (and maybe Dame Aylin). Extra special bonus: everyone's favorite good boy, Scratch 🐾

Astarion, Seen Through Others: What Lurks in the Campfire Light Gale

Gale is a man of logic, magic, and study. At first, he is enchanted. He sees Astarion like a puzzle piece—charming, yes, but also predictable, as most are. There’s a rhythm to Astarion’s manner, like a well-rehearsed performance polished until gleaming. But Gale is a man of patterns and precision, and something begins to itch at the edges. The first crack appears in the firelight. They’re seated around the flames, the others laughing softly, passing a flask. Gale, mid-sentence, glances over — and the words die in his throat.

Astarion’s skin does not reflect the way it should. No golden glow, no warmth. It doesn’t drink the firelight like the others’ skin does — it reflects it, smooth and cold, as if the surface is just slightly wrong. Not flesh. Not quite.

Gale tries to dismiss it. Tricks of the eye. Smoke and shadow.

But it happens again.

One night, while reciting an incantation for Wyll, Gale feels it — a twinge. The unmistakable prickle of being watched, not with interest, but with… stillness.

He looks up. Astarion is perched nearby, a little ways off, half-hidden in shade.

Watching.

Unmoving. Not blinking. Not shifting. Not even breathing.

Just… watching.

“Are you... memorising the spell?” Gale asks a bit nervously. “No,” Astarion says, too smoothly. “Just... enjoying the way your mouth moves.” He smiles. That perfect smile — effortless, elegant, shaped like art. But there’s a pause before it. A beat too long. And in that silence, Gale sees it.

Hunger. Not lust. Not admiration. Something older. Colder. Like a void that mimics human desire because it knows it must.

He laughs it off. The conversation shifts. The moment passes. But later that night, alone in his tent, Gale sketches notes hastily onto the margins of his grimoire.

Reflex delay = inconsistent.

Shadow lag = .2–.4s behind movement.

Eyes reflect in no light. Not biological.

Smile = response delay increasing. Intentional mimicry?

He doesn’t confront him. Not yet. Perhaps not ever. Curiosity wars with caution in him like fire and oil.

But from that night on, Gale etches a glyph of warding into his palm before sleep. Simple, subtle. A protective reflex. Just in case. And sometimes, only sometimes, he swears Astarion knows. Because once, as Gale turned away from the fire and headed to his tent, Astarion’s voice floated after him, calm as velvet:

“Careful, darling. Too much thinking at night invites the wrong kinds of company.”

Shadowheart

Shadowheart is trained in observation. Secrets are her bread and butter. After all she is trained in secrets. Misdirection, deception, half-truths they’re as natural to her as breath. So she recognizes it in him instantly. Astarion is a master of the mask. He moves like water, says exactly enough to keep the attention on others, and never once stumbles into sincerity.

She watches him like a rival. At first. She watches him, waiting for the mask to slip and eventually, it does. Not all at once — but in slivers. Not all at once — but in slivers. Fractures. Oddities that catch at the edge of her practised gaze.

His hair never tangles. Not even after a rainstorm. His clothes lie too neatly against him, as if sewn to his skin. Blood rolls off his coat like water off waxed stone, never soaking in.

His skin doesn’t wear dirt. It repels it.

And once — just once — she sees a cut on his cheek in the heat of battle. A real one. Jagged. Red. It heals before her eyes, threading together like time rewinding. She says nothing.

Then, a week later, a stranger thing: she brushes past him in the tent, her shoulder catching his arm.

And feels nothing.

No warmth. No breath. No hum of a pulse. Not even the ambient softness of another body. It’s like brushing past stone left too long in the moonlight — smooth, cold, and utterly still.

He doesn’t scratch. He doesn’t yawn. He never blinks unless someone’s watching.

When she finally asks — casually, he grins. Easy. Pleased.

“I’m just terribly well-trained,” he says. “You know how it is.” She knows exactly how it is. And yet… she doesn’t. But later that night, she holds her holy symbol and prays this time, without closing her eyes.

Karlach

Karlach wants to like Astarion. Honestly, she tries.

He’s funny. Fancy. Flirty in a way that makes people giggle and blush and feel wanted — like a theater kid with too many secrets. And when she talks, really talks, about the hells and the forge and the fire in her chest — he actually listens. Eyes sharp, chin resting on his fingers like he's devouring every word.

She wants to believe he’s one of those posh, dramatic types — all silk on the outside, big heart underneath.

But something about him itches beneath her skin. A wrongness. Not big, not loud. Just… quiet. Like meat that’s gone off just before the smell hits.

She sees it first in battle.

They’re ambushed. Chaos. Screams. Her vision red and vibrating with fury. Rage roars in her chest. She’s a storm, wild and alive and burning.

Astarion moves beside her. Not frantic. Not wild. Just… still.

Elegant. Precise. Too quiet.

She watches him stab a man through the ribs neatly, like sewing a stitch, and not even blink. No snarl. No breath. No joy. No anger. Just... execution. Purpose.

Like watching a knife slice bread. No soul behind it. Just a function.

And something in Karlach, something old and instinctive, recoils.

Later, back at camp, he leans over her to pass a drink. Close enough to feel his nonexistent breath. His eyes sparkle like he’s rehearsed the movement a thousand times. Her laugh’s already in her throat, until she notices their shadows behind them in the firelight.

His flickers wrong. It moves a heartbeat late, like it’s lagging behind him. Like it’s remembering how to be a shadow, and failing. Or it's an entirely different "being".

She stares. “Do you… Even cast one?” Astarion grins, amused. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

She barks a laugh. Too loud. Too long. Tries to drown out the cold in her gut. But that night, she shifts her bedroll a few feet closer to Wyll’s. Just a little.

Lae’zel

Lae’zel respects predators. But predators are honest. Astarion is not. Predators show their fangs. They hunt. They kill. There is no deception in survival.

His beauty irritates her. Not because it’s vain because it’s constructed. Nothing bleeds. Nothing breaks. He smiles too much. Stands too still. His face holds too much perfection and none of the wear of time or war. Beautiful, yes,  but the kind of beauty that exists in an embalmed corpse. She sees how others flock to him, dazzled. And it enrages her, because it’s a lie, and they fall for it like flies to a pitcher plant. Once, in camp, she watches him sit still for hours, not moving, not reacting. No Gith would ever waste time like that.

One evening, she decides to test him. No sound, no breath she stalks him like a predator would. Weight distributed evenly. Footsteps timed to the wind. She’s within five feet when he turns, smooth as silk, with a smile that’s too knowing. She knows she made no sound. She’s certain. “Curious to see what I look like when I think no one’s watching?” he purrs. Lae’zel freezes. She knows she didn’t misstep. No betrayal of weight or scent. Nothing. “How did you—” “You carry your weight like a soldier. Hard to miss,” he lies smoothly. “Githyanki tread heavily, even when they try not to.”

She narrows her eyes. A lie. She saw no twitch of muscle. No tilt of ear. Not even a flick of the eyes. He didn’t see her. He sensed her.

And in that moment, she knows: He heard her heartbeat. Predators respect predators. But Astarion? He is something older. Something that doesn’t just hunt.

Something that waits.

Wyll

Wyll has seen monsters. Wyll is used to monsters. He's danced with devils literally. Well… he made a pact with one. Fought them. Hunted them. He knows the scent of evil. The weight of it in the air. But Astarion doesn’t feel like a monster. He feels… like a trick.

Too perfect. Too smooth. Too… untouched. Like time forgets to touch him.

Wyll once watches him walk barefoot through camp. Dry leaves. Loose gravel. Twigs. And yet no sound. Not even a whisper. As if the world refuses to acknowledge his weight. As if he never truly touches the earth. And that smile. Gods, that smile. It clicks on like a lantern—bright, and blinding. But it’s always the same. No curve out of place. No variance. Like a mask painted onto his skin. And yet when he speaks… his words land like spells. Too perfect. The exact shape someone needs to hear. Never too much. Never too little. Calculated compassion. Measured charm.It gnaws at Wyll. Like watching a painting that sometimes breathes.

One night, Wyll stays up later than usual. He pretends to read. But his eyes are on Astarion.

The vampire sits by the fire, cross-legged. His spine doesn’t slump. His shoulders never sag. He doesn't fidget. Doesn’t breathe. His gaze is fixed on Tav — sleeping, peaceful, unaware.

Wyll watches.

Astarion never blinks.

He doesn't shift. Doesn’t move. Just watches. A stillness that isn’t rest. It’s closer to… calculation. Like a hawk studying a mouse. Like a marionette waiting for a string to twitch.

Eventually, Wyll speaks.

Quiet. Firm. “You’ve worn that mask so long, I don’t think you know what’s underneath anymore.”

Astarion’s head turns too smoothly. Too fast. His eyes glitter in the firelight, like glass reflecting something distant. Then he smiles.

At first, it’s the same as always, but then… it sharpens. Slightly. The corners lift too high. The teeth show a little too much.

“Maybe, my dear Wyll,” he says, voice low, almost kind. “Or maybe....” A pause.“There was never anything underneath at all.” Wyll doesn’t respond. He simply watches him back.

Thank you, everyone, for reading. Here’s my master list <3 Astarion’s Hidden Strength — Headcanons Part 2 coming soon!

[stars-and-clouds]

Lamentable is the Autumn Picker Content with Plums

As requested, it is now available as a print on inprint , redbubble or an unwatermarked download =D

Thank you so much for showing this poem so much love!

I completed Astarion's shirt poem 👉👈 It's no Volo, but please be gentle 🙈 I've not written poetry in a long time.

[missblissy]

Domestic Astarion x Reader HCs

A/N: UwU just wanted to add to the married life headcanons after the events of the game. Fluffy good stuff below. GN!Tav, no class/race. Enjoy!

Some days always started better than others. But that’s only to say because someone didn’t need as much sleep as you, and had a life time left to learn new skills. One of them being cooking. Sure Astarion can’t taste and it’s a useless skill to him. But you? He would do anything for you. And that includes learning to cook for the sheer simple act of spoiling you with a warm and home made breakfast in bed.

It’s strange to say you two never had a wedding. That’s not to say you two weren’t married. “Oh…?” Astarion isn’t sure how to explain this when someone asks, “Well, you see, my darling little love here found this-” He holds up his hand and wiggles the ring in his finger, “On a rotting old skeleton then found the matching one, get this, on another smelly corpse!” Most people wouldn’t look fondly on something like that. But no, Astarion wasn’t most people. He’d smile and swoon, “And I suppose since then we’ve been married,”

It doesn’t help that back then when you did find those rings, you quite literally told him, “We’re married now,” As a joke. It wasn’t joke….

Astarion has a habit of leaving you poems to find in the most hidden of places. Like little lost treasures. Or maybe he just knows the looting demon you are at heart with your little grabby fingers going for anything they can touch. So it always comes to a surprise to you when you open a book and a poem written years ago flutters out… but the love and truth still rings pure despite the yellowing of the pages.

Crimson sons, vermillion daughters. Quivering maroon, burgundy, cardinal. Short fainting strokes Fester a broken carotid Free from feathers Unbound By the serpent's head no more.

His way of saying thank you for everything you've ever given him. And then some. No matter the message you cherished each treasured poem you would find.

The man had a knack for spoiling you, unconditionally, and most importantly, endlessly. If you saw something out in a shop that caught you eye, but you were just to stubborn to get it for yourself. Surprise, surprise when you get home and find it there with a man beaming proud like a puppy with his bone.

But that didn’t mean affection was off the table either. Astarion spoiled you with kisses, big ones, little ones, some on the back of your hand as he opened a door for you. Others on your cheek, gently but with sorrow as he left for some few weeks for whatever reason. He had his own things to do and sometimes you couldn’t go with him. But that just meant when he got home you could throw your arms around him, breathe him in and share the long awaited kiss of his return.

Married life strangely suited you both, from the little grabbing of hands under tables, the protective placement of an arm, the look of pride when the other did something extraordinary. And Astarion would always be the more boastful in pride when it came to talking about you.

And he couldn’t help but show off, sure he’s loud and arrogant about it. Saying he was best option of course, no one else stood a chance… blah blah blah. But when no one was around he can look you in the eye and practically grovel, “I am so lucky you chose me,”

There were many other things that came with the long life of being married together. The two of you were quite dedicated to learning to… dance. Astarion hadn’t a clue wether his left foot was right, and you may have been no better. It was your idea really. You heart would swoon watching other couples and with an eager voice you pointed a finger and declared, “I want to do that too!”

And so you did, but behind the close doors of your own home. Seeing as Astarion didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of so many people. Where you both could trip and side step and laugh, giggle and make the most out of learning something new together.

It seemed the two of you had a habit of learning things together. From silly little drawings, to paintings, perhaps an instrument or two. You both always found a way to share your hobbies and passions together.

And it was the mornings, where these happened most often. Naturally Astarion couldn’t be in the sun but that didn’t stop him from enjoying what little light he could. You’d find him in the dusty dusk right before the sun actually broke the horizon.

He had been teaching himself to play the piano, so to wake up in the morning and not hear the soft echos of keys down the halls would be a bad sign. It’d be another bad sign if you didn’t sit down beside him, stroking the keys as the two of you played a song that was always in the process of being made and never done.

Surely soon he’d go off to sleep, sharing kisses and affection. You wouldn’t see him again until the evening, when the sun was starting it decent. Day-phobia was real in vampires no matter how much they loved the sun and he didn’t have a worm anymore to help him fight that. But he managed, enjoying every sun rise and sun set he got to see just as the world of night came and went.

Despite staying up all night sometimes just to be beside him, it was fairly often that Astarion would have to nag you to go to sleep. You’d barely have even one eye open, drifting back and forth between dreams and you’d still tell him, “I’m not tired, I’m just resting my eyes,” All because he was up late in kitchen and you didn’t want to leave his side.

He often compromises though, making deals and barters, “If I go upstairs with you, will you go to sleep?”

“…” Surely you aren’t going to say no? “Will you be the big spoon?”

“Of course,” How could he say no to a face like yours? And such a sleepy one too?

He didn’t mind, not really. Some nights he’d stay in bed with you until the morning. Even though nothing would get done, or things he had planned were set aside, he wouldn’t sleep either, he truly really didn’t mind. He could lay there for eternity holding you close and be at peace.

[merruschka]

🌙The world is yours and mine alone.✨️

This absolutely gorgeous artwork was made for me by the talented thanomluk! 💕

[coyote-ralyn]

Cazstar: I knew that one day you would be mine.

HC: Cazador had been spying on Astarion for a long time. But he understood that the young magistrate would never belong to him. Then the vampire lord took drastic and insane measures.