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randompandabaewrites · 20 hours

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Helpless in Her Hold

//The Drow twins' proposition of Tav surfaces some insecurities for Astaron. Hurt/Comfort, angst but happy ending. CW: Unhealthy relationship to sex/sexuality, identity issues. Not edited... Song Rec: Supposed to Be (Acoustic) By Icon for Hire//

Astarion x f!Tav, Canonish, Act 3

2.1k

Astarion watched, helpless, with his dead heart in his throat as the drow twins propositioned Tav. His Tav. He want to growl it and glower until no one else in this pleasure den deigned to offer their services.

Why did she have to be such a lure for elven whores?

Astarion leaned back against the wall, hardly resisting the urge to fold his arms and sulk in plain view of the whole party. He wasn’t a child whose toy was being played with—and yet, the brightness of her eyes and the laugh on her lips had him wanting to pout and whinge like a toddler.

“I appreciate the offer, I do, but I must decline.” Tav shook her head. Though personally the vampire thought she could be a little more rude in her rejection.

Because the damn twins were were still giving her looks that were far too inviting. Not that Tav saw, because her eyes had landed back on him, and Astarion was just thanking his lucky stars he’d perfected the mask he wore.

“Is that your partner?” The female drow asked, her smile making disgust creep up his spine—it was easy to see where this was going. “We’d be happy to have you both.”

“My dear, I’m afraid you’d be the one parting with your gold.” A high laugh slipped from Astarion’s lips. “And, I do doubt you could afford me.”

He saw the twins’ mirrored expressions of bewilderment turn to glee for only a flash before Tav was excusing herself from them. Swiftly stepping over to him with—that damnable look on her face.

Oh he knew those eyes, so drawn with her concern and on the verge of pity. Tav looked like that when she was about to do something so dreadfully kind it might make him wretch.

And he could not be the broken toy when she was being offered two shiny new ones.

“Astarion—” Tav began in that tone, and he had to preempt her.

“I know pet, tempting as it is, I simply must decline.”

“Yeah?” Tav utterly confounded him with that lifted smile. “That’s good.”

“Good..?” Astarion asked, his mind trying to race ahead. Find the traps and disarm them before they sprung.

She’d preached to him over and over again about his choice, and what he wanted and how that mattered to her for some reason.

Only for him to make a decision about the drow for her.

Shit.

It was a test. It had to be. She respected his choices, now he was expected to reciprocate.

“Ah I see.” Astarion inclined his head to her, a salacious smile on his lips. “You haven’t had much attention lately…it has been a while for us.”

Tav blinked, and then those bright eyes were on his, searching him out. The pale elf would cling to the façade by the skin of his fangs, if it meant he could keep her.

She turned, and Astarion prepared for the feeling of a stake through his heart.

“Well, if my partner isn’t interested, neither am I.” Tav brushed off the twins’ advances with as much grace as one could muster. Until they finally had the tact to move to other potential patrons.

She was already leading the way out of Sharess’ Caress before Astarion had recovered from his shock.

The cold night air near Baulder’s Gate finally woke him.

“You could have gone with them, you know.” He blurted, wondering why in the Hells she hadn’t. It wasn’t like he was satiating her hungers.

Astarion felt Tav shrug her shoulder through their linked hands. “I’m not interested in any little tryst if it’s at your expense.”

She said it so simple, so easy, as if it were hardly worth a second thought.

Astarion’s mind was still reeling, but he put on a smirk. “Stop being so kind to me; it almost makes me want to return the favor.”

As if it were a debt he could ever repay her.

…

Hours later, Tav lay in her darkened room, sleep evading her. The soft click of a lock being picked made her tense, hand instinctively grasping the dagger beneath her pillow. But the familiar silhouette slipping through the door made her relax.

"Hello, my darling," Astarion purred as he approached, her darkvision letting her see how his ruby eyes glinted. “Haven’t you gotten accustom to me creeping into your bed?”

"It has been a moment since you came looking for a cuddle?" Tav teased softly, tilting her head. His appearance at this hour had her wondering. The dark of night and hushed voices already strummed tension in the air between them.

“I do seek…something akin to that.”

Astarion perched on the edge of the bed, long fingers skimming up her bare arm and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Despite all her thoughts trying to tame her reaction, for now.

"I merely wished to express my gratitude, my sweet. For standing by me, even knowing what I am. What I've done. And what I haven’t."

“What you…haven’t?” Her half-awake mind might be jumping to conclusions, surely. Twining their fingers together, Tav brought his hand to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. "You never have to thank me for that."

Astarion's eyes shimmered suspiciously in the darkness before he blinked it away, his trademark smirk back in place. "I want to thank you," he purred, “Won’t you, let me?”

He moved then, pressing her back into the soft pillow she’d been having trouble sleeping on after so many nights spent in the dirt.

Though the familiar weight of him was already making the bed more appealing. Now, just like every time he fed from her, he cradled her skull and tilted her head back so tenderly. It was comforting, it was an intimate moment she was happy to share with him.

His eyes didn’t meet hers as he ducked his head. Usually he lingered, to make sure Tav was alright before his fangs pierced her flesh. So why did she feel lips caressing her neck?

Her fingers slid into his hair, trying to get a grip on herself as much as she was on his curls.

“Star, what’s going on?”

The chuckle he gave was at the base of her neck, lips and tongue teasing at her collarbones in a way that made her skin tingle.

“Returning the favor.” He purred. “You deserve it.”

Tav swallowed under his clever mouth, trying to hear what her mind was screaming at her before it could be drowned out by the sweet words and sweeter lips.

Suddenly his face was swimming before hers, still not letting her catch his eye as he cupped her cheek. “So very few people get what they deserve—you, as always, should be the exception.”

Astation, with his ethereal beauty and perfect words, had her stunned. It wasn’t until he lowered his mouth to hers that her mind caught up.

“I don’t deserve anything you don’t wish to give.” Tav managed against his mouth, giving a gentle tug to his hair to get him to pull back.

“My sweet…I very much wish to give.”

That silver tongue slipped right past her protesting lips.

…

The elf was certain he had her when those hands slipped from his hair to cup his face in her palms. Her thumbs stroked over his high cheekbones.

“Astarion, wait.” Tav breathed.

He stilled, pulling back, fear flickering over his features as he was sure he’d somehow hurt her—when he saw it.

That damnable look in her eyes.

“Wait—we’ve done nothing but the waiting.” He snapped.

And Tav, damn her, gave a softer look still. “I’m willing to wait longer, as long as it takes.”

Astarion's posture stiffened, his back becoming an iron rod as he sat upright. "Is that how you see me then?" He couldn't keep the defensive edge from seeping into his voice. Drawing it like a blade when he felt his throat was bared.

"All shattered on the inside? Some broken doll you no longer play with? Am I to be put on a shelf and never touched again?"

“Astarion, you aren’t—” She moved to touch him, but he rose abruptly, evading her reach.

He didn’t even know why he did it. But the way her hand fell back to the bed, dejected, hurt him just as the pain he saw on her face.

"I know you aren’t fragile," Tav said with conviction, eyes pleading for him to understand.

“Then what? Am I some charity case to you? Is that what you get off on?”

Astarion hated it the moment he said it. But, the fangs showed whenever vulnerability crept up on him.

She stayed silent, and he had to fill that void before it consumed him.

“I’m not some delicate boy with a broken heart. I have wants. And I can see that you have them too. So, why not?”

“Is that what you want?” Tav smothered his outrage like a blanket over a campfire.

His shoulders sagged under the weight of his uncertainty.

“I don’t know.” The words barely escaped his lips before they broke apart into whispers of self-doubt. “Gods, I don’t know how to do any of this.” A frustrated hand raked through his white curls.

He wanted her. He wanted to see her looks of want and he wanted to be the one to fulfill her desires.

He wanted to keep her.

She sat up, legs hanging off the bed. And his eyes were drawn to the bare skin of her thighs exposed by her loose sleep clothes.

“Astarion, what do you want?”

He stared down at her, red eyes probing for a hint of the right answer. What did she want him to say? He would say it.

But Tav held without giving an inch.

“Why do you always ask the most difficult things?”

"I’m sorry." she whispered back.

"Don’t. I want—no, I need to know that I am still wanted by you." The confession fell from his lips like a plea. "You who’ve given me so much and seen broken I am. You who’ve made me wonder if I do indeed have any pieces left of my own soul…” The words were on his tongue, but his throat constricted around baring his neck one last time. “Do you still want me?”

“I will always want you.” Tav’s reply came without hesitation or doubt.

Either he had gotten to sloppy to see it—or there was simply no guile in her.

Tav reached out, her hand finding his where he stood frozen. He could feel the tension coursing through him—an all too familiar vulnerability that he constantly tried to suppress.

“Then let me give you something in return.” He dropped to his knees before her, desperation etched into every feature. .“Please, Tav.”

She lifted the hand she held, cupping it in both of hers, before she pressed his touch against her chest. And he had a moment to hope, that maybe, she would just let him give a fraction of what she’d given him.

“You’ve given me everything already, my heart.”

A scornful snort burst from him, everything in him prepared to banish her romanticized drivel with a dose of reality.

“This,” Her fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt over his chest. “Past the petty armor you wear. Beneath the pretty face and clever tongue,” She yanked him close before he could quip back.“That is what you give me; parts of you that you’ve given to no one else.”

When he looked at her then, he had no idea what she might see, even if he could use a mirror.

“Your kindness, your hurt, your wants. The truth of you. That’s what I want.”

“I can’t give—“ Astarion couldn’t get this damn silver tongue of his around a his words. “I don’t know what that is…who I am.”

“Then we can both find out. That’s all I ask of you.”

He swallowed hard as her words left him parched and speechless. The notion that he might still have something to offer, a piece of himself that was untouched.

Astarion found himself staring at her, wonder and disbelief battling for dominance in his gaze.

A gentleness tugged at Tav's lips. And for a fleeting moment, Astarion dared to believe that perhaps he could have this.

He moved up, but only to wrap his arms around her. To engulf her in his embrace. Just as that night when she wrapped her arms around him, and first showed him that there was affection, there was closeness, without the expectation of more.

Astarion would be just fine if he was helpless in her arms.

#Well its not just fluff this time #“tell me who I'm supposed to be now”#“Make me better”#“I can't stay halfway dead forever”#astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #baulders gate 3 #bg3 #tav #astarion x female tav #astarion angst #astarion fic #icon for hire

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justporo · 2 days

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Back Under the Weeping Willow

Brimsterton | A Staevstarion Regency AU

A/N: So we kind of all had a collective feverdream on a Discord server and what came from it was this Astarion x Staeve Regency AU - namely Brimsterton. Much of this originated when we went ham on the server and ping-ponged ideas around. So, many of these ideas were a collective effort with credit specifically going to @somewhatclear @silmaryel and @astarions-pervert-goth-wife. Thank you guys, mwa! That was so much fun. And ofc also big thanks to @velnna who keeps letting me play with his blorbo. Staeve is my favourite barbie doll! <3 Will I ever come back to this? We will see... ~~~ Summary: Astarion Ancunín, only heir to his family's estate and name, finds himself back in his hometown. Suddenly Duke after his parents untimely demise duty demands he takes matters in his own hands and goes towards an unsure future. But back home is still the same: the same old people, the same old fields. The same old memories, the same old yearning as he meets his childhood friend Staeve again - the reason why he left in the first place all these years ago.

Pairing: Astarion/Staeve Wordcount: 1,7k Warnings: mention of character death

The message about his parent’s death had reached Astarion through a courier letter as he had been attending a social gathering. A disease had withered them away more quickly than anyone could’ve had believed. He was duke now. He now owned the estate.

He’d read the words. And a second time and a third. Then he had excused himself without further words and had gone home to pack.

Had someone observed him they would have probably only thought he’d encountered a mild inconvenience. Nothing of consequence really.

And Astarion would have preferred it if had been nothing but a minor inconvenience. That he didn’t have to return to his hometown, to his parents’ - no his - estate now.

But duty demanded it. And duty, in the end, had always been the master that the young duke had bowed to.

On the inside though, conflicting emotions had been wreaking havoc: a certain sadness about all of this, surely, but more than that fear, concern, lodging below his ribs.

But deeper another thing entirely had reared its head: a spark of yearning suddenly being reignited, that he thought had gone cold a long time ago. Almost ten years ago, to be exact.

But as he had quickly arranged for everything to be packed up, a carriage to be sent and for a message to be delivered to a friend to hopefully accompany him on this trip that was bound to become a disaster, he felt his mind preoccupied not with thoughts of mourning. He had barely remembered to request for his all black attire to be laid out for him as visions of forest green hair, teal eyes and that wicked grin flashed through his mind - long past, but surely not forgotten. Never forgotten.

And with memories of old clouding his mind, he had begun his journey towards home - and an unsure future.

Coming home had hurt.

Not merely because of the harsh reality of Astarion’s parents' untimely end. Because this was obviously all very tragic and unfortunate of course.

But in truth he had been estranged from his parents for as long as he could remember. And it had gotten worse over the ten years he had been spending apart from them - and there. Scarce letters had been his only bridge to a past he usually tried to forget.

The real pain though, as the carriage rattled down the rough roads to his past home, had lingered in how everything was still the same.

The same flower fields being turned into grassy seas of green speckled with colour by the wind rushing through them. The same rocks the carriage’s axle struggled not to break under. The same sky painted grey with a storm that might or might not come. The same small town, the same houses, the same ancient weeping willow up on the hill.

The same people.

The same memories.

The same pain pestering him as his hometown came into view after the same final turn of the road.

The same ache he had felt when leaving all those years ago.

Not even Jenevelle accompanying him and laying a calming hand on his knee as Astarion had kept staring out of the carriage window, with his arm propped up and his hand pressed to his cheek, had been able to soothe this particular pain.

Stoically, he had carried on, just the same.

He’d been welcomed at the Ancunín estate with everyone of the staff wearing black and sullen faces. All of them had waited in a line before the manor. Awaiting the new duke with heavy, grieving hearts.

And word of the young duke returning home must’ve had travelled fast because almost immediately after he had received the staff’s condolences, shaking everyone’s hands and exchanging the customary friendly words and sad smiles, people from town had made visits.

There had been more handshakes, eyes full of understanding, even some tears had shed and Astarion’s shoulder patted more often than he would have liked. And even a few confused glances as people noticed his company of a young fair haired woman without the accompanying rings on either of their hands. But at least the shock about his parents’ untimely demise and the grief laying on the whole place like a sheet had spared him the judgement.

It hadn’t spared him of people coddling him though.

So now here he was at a small get-together at someone else’s estate. Having been pushed to attend because visitors had felt guilty about leaving the mourning man alone at this giant estate where everything must be reminding him of the family he had just lost.

Astarion would have much rather stayed at the Ancunín estate. But he couldn’t have exactly told anyone that. Not when polite and caring invitations had been made - and duty demanded of him to kindly take them up on it.

Unfortunately, the small get-together had also turned out to be a not small at all ball. People were dancing and drinking. And then quickly hiding their smiles behind their hands, putting on masks of sadness and concern as soon as they spotted him.

The evening had been filled with more people crowding around Astarion, grabbing his hand to offer him words of support and understanding or a story about his parents he had to pretend he hadn’t heard a million times yet.

Finally, after Astarion had badly mimicked almost breaking into tears after having been told the same story of how his parents had organised that one particular ball, everyone in town still remembered, for the fourth time in a row, he had been left alone. And thankfully even Jenevelle had, after throwing him another asking look, just went to explore the event on her own.

Now the young duke was sitting in a corner alone, holding on to what was now his third cup of wine, as he observed the couples turning on the dancefloor. He watched through people passing by and obnoxious, incredibly pretentious and tasteless low hanging palm leafs from trees that had been placed everywhere. At least they also provided for a nice and rather hidden corner where Astarion had fled so as to not be approached by griefing townsfolk anymore.

Cheerful dance music drifted through the air and the sweet smell of spring flower bouquets filled the massive room as gauzy skirts in all kinds of pastel colours swished over the floors with young ladies smiling coyly and young men nearly falling at their feet for just one of those smiles.

Even as Astarion found himself not as closely moved by grief as people expected him to be, he found it all abhorrent.

It were the same tasteless people with their same tiny mindsets only reaching from here to the next bigger city and their same annoying and boring soirees.

There had only ever been the one person who had made this place interesting.

Astarion downed the rest of the wine in one big gulp and got up to grab another one while wondering how much longer he would need to stay for it to not be considered rude.

He spotted a servant with a silver tray carrying new drinks in crystal glasses - unfortunately almost on the other side of the room. With a curse under his breath he began moving through the crowd, his head held low to avoid eye contact and more people feeling the need to talk to him, reach for him, console him.

As he passed the edge of the dancefloor he made the mistake of looking up and across the dancefloor where couples were still happily moving in endless twists and turns.

And found the sight he’d been fearing most for. Or yearning for. Astarion really wasn’t quite sure.

On the other side of the dancefloor stood the inspiration and source for those pictures and memories plaguing him since he had sat down in that carriage travelling here. And that ache. And that longing.

The trillering joyful music drifting through the air suddenly seemed muted, time almost slowed down as all those images suddenly came together all at once.

He looked almost like he remembered - the only thing he was not mad about for being the same.

Long dark green hair messily tied back, clothes fine but just a tad dishevelled as to let everyone around know that he wasn’t just like everyone else around. That he didn’t fear to be a little rough around the edges. Teal and black eyes were glinting just as vividly as in Astarion’s memories as he was talking to some lady and lazily holding his cup of wine by the rim.

And then there was his smile. That wicked smile curling up the corners of his lips as he listened to his companion talk.

The freckles on his dark skin had gotten a little more intense and plenty, Astarion could immediately tell. They suited him just as nicely though as they had back then. There were a few lines around his mouth and eyes now and his face just a little leaner, having lost the softness and immaturity of youth in the flesh. But - as Astarion kept being transfixed by watching him - not his manners or his mind it looked like.

Staeve.

Almost all the same.

As were Astarion’s emotions, finally having torn themselves free from below the worry and the fear. The twinge of longing setting his chest ablaze, threatening to let him burn up right on the spot. His heart began to thunder and his hands still clutching the goblet started to tremble as he stood there rooted in place and beholding the sight of the man that had made him leave his home so many years ago.

Then Staeve’s expression changed. Eyebrows drew together and his eyes darted to the side. As if he had caught on that he was being watched. His head flew around, probably rudely interrupting his date’s words and immediately spotting Astarion.

The young duke immediately felt the heat spread to his cheeks and he hastily tried to turn away as if nothing had happened.

But Staeve didn’t even waste a heartbeat to smile at him, deepening the lines around his mouth and eyes even further. The moment drew out between two heartbeats, feeling endless, as they laid eyes upon each other after ten years apart.

Then Staeve lifted his cup in greeting - as if it had only been yesterday.

And only then did Astarion feel that he had returned home.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #fanfiction #astarion x tav #staeve #astarion x staeve #drabble #bg3 #brimsterton #staevstarion

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demiesop · 2 days

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it is said that the smell of someone you love is calming

#demiart #bg3 tav #tav:sorn #bg3 astarion #astarion/tav #astarion x tav #Sorn would love how Astarion smells more and more the closer they grow #I am sleeping early tonight good night!

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 14 hours

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A Quiet Love

Sorry for the lack of updates. Been very busy with schoolwork and fell sick today. Still, here's my latest need to cuddle with Astarion.

Oh I also went to Anime Impulse at Seattle and gosh that was fun. Bought an Astarion print and a standee to start my Astarion shrine in my cupboard, bought a wooden magnet carving of a rly cute egg sushi, bought some stuff for my friends back home too.

Summary: You have a nightmare and Astarion chases it away in his own way.

Ragged breaths tear through you as you run through the trees, clutching your bleeding side with one hand and wiping away your sweat with the other. You can hear the shouts of your pursuers, hear the thundering hooves of the horses some of them are riding, all of which spur your feet onwards in spite of the screams from your muscles.

Your head spins and you nearly fall over. You won’t last long in this chase, they will catch and torture you before executing you in front of the whole town, exactly as the oracle had predicted. Still, if that is your destiny, you’re not about to just roll over and let them have you. If they want you, they are going to have to work for it.

You stumble in a zigzag pattern, darting in and out of your pursuers’ sight and hear their hollers of frustration, causing you to grin. Your pursuers are terrible at their job if they can’t even catch a wounded target. You nearly laugh out loud, stopped only by the blood that bubbles up your throat when you try.

Even so, they inevitably catch up to you. With how your vision keeps giving way, there is no other outcome, but you continue to be defiant, resisting their capture even as the black spots worm their way in.

“Come on, scared of injured prey?” You cough, sending a bloody grin their way. Your pursuers move closer, encircling you but they maintain their distance, much to your amusement. You can feel your lifeblood leaving your body, you won’t last much longer and yet they’re still so afraid of you.

Your fingers curl, ready to fight as hard as you can before they take you when a fireball incinerates half the pursuers, leaving nothing but blackened ash. A war cry follows suit, revealing a tiefling with one horn and a githyanki warrior charging into the fray swinging their weapons which takes out most of the remaining pursuers.

Your gaze flicks about the battlefield, looking for a particular pale elf but you don’t see him amidst the chaos of it all. One of your remaining pursuers, however, spots you and moves in from behind, gladius primed to strike but a dagger plunges into his neck before he gets the chance.

“You really need to watch your back more, my love. I can’t watch it for you forever.”

Your eyes light up when you see who it is, the urge to run over and jump into his arms tugging at your heart but all you can manage is a hasty stumble in his direction, a silent yelp leaving your lips as gravity pulls your body downwards, straight at the ground.

“Falling for me again?” A pair of cold arms wrap themselves around you, stopping your descent. You heave a relieved sigh, closing your eyes as you lean into the cooling embrace of your vampire lover, feeling your body give out without an adrenaline high to sustain it anymore.

“I will always fall for you,” you murmur tiredly. You feel your body sag against his, feel his panic as he realises you’re bleeding out all over the ground. His voice rises a pitch, sharp fingernails digging ever so slightly into your flesh and you want to comfort him, reassure him that you’re not going anywhere but your muscles refuse to move and you can’t do anything about it.

“Darling, stay with me. As tasty as you look leaking blood, you’re leaking too much blood.” He holds you close, trying to staunch the bleeding with one hand while the other haphazardly rummages through the bag for a healing potion.

“Too…much…? I thought…you’d…appreciate it…” You’re getting dizzier and dizzier, with more of your vision fading to black. His red eyes pierce the veil that’s being drawn over your eyes, willing you to stay awake but the pull of the void is too strong, you can’t hold on anymore.

“Well, you see love…love? Love!”

And the world turns black.

You wake up with a start, chest heaving and sweat running down your back.

A nightmare. A rather vivid one at that.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, willing your thundering heart to calm down before it can wake the trancing vampire next to you but his movements suggest that he has already woken up.

“Nightmare?” He murmurs quietly, his tone a far cry from his usual way of speaking.

“Hrm,” you reply, blood pounding in your ears. The world refocuses, showing you the vampire who is gazing at you with such concern in his eyes, his eyebrows creased in worry.

“I’m alright, Star. Just need to…get a breath of fresh air,” you wave him off. “Sorry for interrupting your trance.”

“I was about to head off for a hunt.” He pauses for a moment. “Would you like to come along, my dear?”

“That…sounds nice.” You rub your eyes, feeling his hand brush against yours. Giving his hand a squeeze, you push yourself up, wiping the night’s terrors away and step out into the cool fresh air, taking a deep breath. You hear him stop just behind you, his shoulder brushing against yours and you take his hand once more.

“I just need you,” you whisper, the words meant only for his ears. He nods, pressing closer to you and swallows the honeyed words that almost fall from his lips out of habit. What you need now is him, not the words his tongue can form, not the services he can provide.

You just need him.

It’s not something anyone else can provide, it’s something unique to him and something he’s comfortable with providing. If all you want is for him to sit by your side, he will happily do just that.

Astarion lets you lead the way, sitting on the steps next to you with a clear view of the city. He wants to know what your nightmare was about so that he can reassure you better, but watching you take in the city’s night lights with quiet awe, he decides that dredging up the past can wait and patiently sits next to you, exactly like he promised. He takes your hand, relishing in the way your fingers automatically curl around his hand.

“I’m right here, my love.” he says for no other reason than he wants to say it. You nod, squeezing his hand before resting your head on his shoulder, letting out a deep breath.

“Thank you,” you whisper. The quiet night beckons the words from your lips, the words you have yet to say to him and mean it with all your heart. You feel him slip an arm around your waist, pulling you closer and feel his lips ghost over your hair.

“I love you.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion romance #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #astarion #tavstarion #durgestarion

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