there was a kiss meme going around in these parts. could you be persuaded to give us a little Astarion smooch?
mayhaps - #31. after a small rejection?
Alright, alright *chin stroke minimum of three (3) times* Let's see if I still have the Astarion magic in me, eh?
What You Really Meant [Spawn!Astarion x Named F!Durge]
In the shadow-soaked stillness between guilt and want, he doesn't run—and neither do you.
Intended Audience: E... For Emotional - Mature. Had you for second, right? Right...? Wait, where are you—?
Who Be Smoochin?: Astarion x Named F!Durge! In second person! Let's try it out, hm?
The Bit: You once told him he needed a friend, not a lover—and Astarion agreed, because it kept him close to you. But after another kill you can't justify and a night spent on the cusp of breaking, he finally tells you the truth. He doesn’t just want to understand your darkness. He wants you. All of you. Even the parts you're afraid to give.
Warning/Advisories:
(We're trying clean bullet points too instead of the mass clump I used to do. Growth!)
Emotional vulnerability
Discussions of guilt and violence
Implications of past trauma
Canon-typical blood references
Dark Urge themes (mentions of compulsion, loss of control)
Angst with comfort
Intimate (non-explicit) moments (I'm no smut queen)
Astarion being painfully soft (yes, that’s a warning)
Words, all the words (count): 1,041
If you're new or just forgot—I used to do a unique little bit and countdown before transitioning into the story of each one shot.
And I said this one already, but I thought I was so cool when I did it.
Is it a calling card? Is it cheesy? Maybe. But we're indulgent as fuck right now.
Writing art and breaking hearts in 3... 2... 1
ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
You told him once—"Maybe what you really need is a friend, not a lover."
And he smiled. Gods, he smiled like it didn’t break something in him. Like he meant it when he said, "I’ve held more people than I can count. An infinite parade of lovers. But a friend? I can’t think of a single one."
You believed it at the time.
So did he.
Almost.
But now? With the air choked in shadow and the trees twisted like bone?
Now, the truth comes crawling to the surface like rot under skin.
You’re sitting near the edge of camp, where the light begins to fray—where torches gutter too easily and the sky has forgotten how to be blue. There’s a heaviness in your blood tonight. Not grief. Not even guilt. Something in you feels permanently stuck in the space after remorse, like guilt is just another hunger now. Familiar. Empty.
The urge is quiet—but it’s there.
It’s always there.
Moving like smoke through your veins. Asking. Wanting.
Before it claws to the surface, sudden and sharp, demanding obedience.
It coils in your chest and pulses behind your teeth, telling you that you're not whole unless something breaks beneath your hands.
You killed someone again.
Not a bandit. Not a threat. Just… someone.
And you buried them deep, beneath mud and bramble.
The others don’t know.
But Astarion does.
You don’t hear him until he’s close—just the gentle shift of his boots over broken leaves, the soft brush of his voice against the still air.
"You always sit like that when you’re unraveling at the seams. It’s becoming one of your more tragic little habits."
You glance over your shoulder.
He’s cast in half-light—half-shadow. His hair, pale as moonlit silk, is a little tousled from the wind. It curls at the ends, feathering around pointed ears and the fine angles of his face. He looks like something sculpted from starlight and bone, too flawless to be real, too elegant to belong to anything as clumsy as nature. Skin like untouched snow.
You mutter, "You shouldn’t be here."
"I find myself saying the very same thing," he replies, stepping closer. "And yet…"
He crouches beside you, hands resting loosely on his knees. You feel the cold before he touches you—like winter pressing through your clothes.
And when his fingers brush your wrist, you flinch—not in fear, but because some part of you aches to lean into it.
"You told me once I needed a friend," he says, quieter now.
You tense. The words ring louder than they should.
"And I agreed," he continues, "because I thought... maybe that was better than nothing. That if I couldn’t have you, I could still have some part of you. Something real. Something close." His voice tilts with a hint of wryness. "And you’re not exactly the type to share easily, darling."
You finally look at him.
Astarion’s face is all clean lines and shadow. The hollows beneath his cheekbones, the grin—trademarked, polished, playful—is thinner now. Threadbare. His gaze is unreadable—deep garnet, glowing faintly in the dark. He’s watching you like you’re a page half-turned.
"But I lied, Rinessa."
Your breath hitches.
"I didn’t want just a friend. I wanted you. All of you. Even the parts you think are too ruined to want. And I told myself I could settle—could hold back everything I felt and be content with whatever pieces you were willing to give." He leans in then, not predatory, but like someone lowering his guard just enough to be wounded. "But I couldn’t. I can’t."
Your throat tightens.
"I’m not…" you start, but the words wither. "I’m not safe."
"Neither am I."
You shake your head, shame coiling tight in your chest.
"I killed again," you whisper. "I didn’t even know I was doing it—not at first. One moment I was talking to them, and the next…"
You clutch your arms, nails digging into the fabric of your tunic. "I came back to myself and they were already dead. And gods, part of me—"
Your voice cracks.
"Part of me felt relieved. Like something had been satisfied."
His hand reaches for yours. Cold. Steady.
There’s no recoil.
"I know what it’s like," he murmurs. "To be shaped by something darker than you ever asked for. To feel that pull and mistake it for power." His thumb grazes your knuckle. "But we’re not defined by our worst moments. And you don’t have to face them alone."
You want to pull away.
You don’t.
He lifts your hand, brushing his lips against your fingers. His mouth is cool—unliving—but not lifeless.
The touch sends a shiver up your arm, not from fear, but from how careful it is. Gentle, deliberate. Like he's afraid you’ll disappear if he’s too rough with you.
Then, slowly, he shifts closer. You feel the ghost of his breath near your cheek as he turns, face tilting toward yours—not rushed, not forceful, just present. Intent. The space between you narrows until there’s barely any at all.
And then he kisses you—your mouth, not your hand this time.
Slow.
Not seductive.
Not a ploy.
Just real. Measured. Earnest.
He pulls back just enough to hover there, foreheads nearly touching, his eyes half-lidded as if caught between staying and surrendering.
His lips part, breath cool against yours.
"You said I needed a friend," he breathes, voice low. "But I think… we’re already something more than that. Aren’t we?"
He doesn’t define it. Doesn’t dare. But the shape of it is there—in every word, every look, every hesitation.
It's not just friendship. Not just want. It's something in between, and maybe that’s all either of you knows how to give for now.
You meet his eyes. And there it is—no flirtation, no mask.
Just a flicker of something raw.
Something honest.
"So let’s stop pretending," he says. "I didn’t want your friendship because it was easier. I wanted it because it kept me close to you."
He exhales, slow and quiet.
"I’ve stopped lying to myself about what I really want." His eyes don’t leave yours—unguarded, aching. "I’m tired of reaching for you from a distance. I think—I want… something real. With you."
You don’t say yes. You don’t have to.
The way your hand tightens in his, the way your breath shakes, the way your heart quiets—it’s enough.
And for the first time in a long while, the darkness doesn’t press in to devour you.
*shyly and awkwardly peeks out from behind a really smooth and aesthetically pleasing rock* did... did my first Astarion story since I came back... was it good?
This was fun, regardless. I decided to try out a named character instead of a reader. Fingers crossed if it's any good. I think it's fine, but who knows, I'm the writer, not the reader.
Thanks @oldlight117 for the kiss prompt! It wasn't a Shadowheart one like the original ask game, but I hope it's still okay!
Oioioi, thanks for all the tags, @maybirdie, @meg-noel-art, @nerd-artist and @xxxhellfireravenxxx
1. ride or die ship (your otp): To no ones surprise, it's Ereloy, precisely as it reads on the can. They snatched my heart back in 2017 and haven't released it to this day.
2. most annoying ship: There are no annoying ships. Next question.
3. second favourite ship: Tough call. I'll go with Avad/Ersa, because they 100% had SOMETHING going on. Starcrossed lovers my beloved.
4. favourite platonic relationship: I'm living for the friendship between Alva and Kotallo. And Beta's line about Erend visiting her in the server room and being "loud...but funny". A kingdom for on-screen interactions between the two. Erend can be like "is free little sister". ;;
5. underrated ship: Drakka/Yarra. The raw enemies to lovers potential there...
6. overrated ship: I don't see anything overrated in a genuine outpouring of one's love for two fictional characters.
7. one thing i would change in canon: Now, after two main games and DLC? Oh, a fair bit. Varl's unnecessary death, even admitted to by the writers as being there for shock value. Shock over the drop in narrative quality post-HZD, maybe.
Same as reducing Erend to everyone's punching bag without a single thought behind his eyes. Fantastic how everyone easily picks up reading English while Erend struggles with it when he's canonically the only member (besides Aloy and Alva) who knows how to read at all. He's the one asking Aloy in HZD where she learned to read Glyphs, something unique to the Carja who reinvented written language based on a book, and the Oseram who got taught Carja Glyphs for trade, which eventually developed into their own alphabet (they get differentiated as "Carja Glyphs" and "(Oseram) Glyphs" in datapoints. Erend can read both. Two alphabets. That's more than many bilinguals)
But sure, he's the dumb dumb who can't read, not the companions that start completely illiterate.
8. something canon did right: All of HZD. What a masterful introduction to a new game franchise, and playing through it the first time unraveling all its mysteries is why I'm still here obsessed with the series.
9. a thing i'm proud of creating for the fandom: Probably the companion art piece for Love Games by my friend @maybirdie. It was incredible working with her as this beast of a fic came together and the friends that I made during that time are near and dear to my heart.
And of course, being on the artist team for the Horizon visual novel Focus On The Heart!
10. a character who is perfect to me (wouldn't change a thing): Without a speck of doubt, Gildun. What a bundle of unbridled joy.
11. the character i relate to the most and why: Beta. We both have crippling anxiety, literally never go outside, and are unfortunately Very Smol™
12. character(-s) i hate the most and why: The worst I can feel about a character is indifference.
13. something i've learned from the fandom: After having been in a fandom that crashed and burned over a decade ago and coming out with a general aversion to fandom...at the end of the day, people from all trades of life coming together to enjoy and create for the same thing that they love with all their heart is a precious thing and we're all richer embracing each other's uniqueness in this gathering.
14. three tags i seek out on ao3: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Sensual Fingerblasting (wink-wonk)
15. a song i strongly associate with my otp/favourite character: Break In by Halestorm for Ereloy, and for favorite character (Erend) End Of Me by Ashes Remain
Hiya Vilandel, I’m so glad to see you’re doing the ask game too! For the fake title; how about “A Promise Under the Stars” please and thank you 🥰?
Hi Lyra, thank you for the ask 🥰
Great title, I actually thought immediately about Fuegoleon and my OC Lital.
Fuegoleon didn't answer immediately, but looked up at the stars. Lital followed his glance. She always loved the stars. Under those, she felt at ease. More than this ball they just took a break from. It wasn't her first ball, but for the first time, Lital wasn't a wallflower.
"I meant every word," he finally whispered, looking back at with all the love in the world.
"I... I don't know what to say..."
"My love, you don't need to say anything. You know it is a promise. I do this for you, starting today, under the stars."
A couple of these categories are gonna be empty unfortunately since I don’t really consume much media outside of YouTube but here goes.
Favorite color: Teal
Currently reading: nothing at the moment I should get back to reading though lol
Last song: Goldener Reiter - Eisbrecher (German rock band)
Last series: it’s been a while since I’ve watched an actual show, I’ll probably get around to Good Omens s2 eventually
Last movie: my friend made me watch Starship Trooper with him, it was a good time, very silly, seeing tiny baby Neil Patrick Harris was an experience lol
Currently working on: I’ve recently picked up cross stitching as well as I’ve been working on a little quilted cube ornament based off of ones my great grandmother made
Joining the party : @moldspace @mossworm @fathermushroom @clovdyhi @child-of-crows @hydaen @warrior-of-the-runes @comically-large-cowboy-hat @chonky-sprite
😈 (auch wenn ich mir sicher bin, die Antwort schon zu kennen :D)
⛔
💖
😁
JEDER. CLIFFHANGER. IMMER. 😘😉 Tatsächlich möchte ich den Leser:innen ja grundsätzlich nicht wehtun oder zu ihnen gemein sein, daher scheiden bei mir auch Charaktertode weitgehend aus. Aber manchmal gewinnt die Sadistin in mir. Und dann gibt's Cliffhanger. 👿
Jein. Ich habe zwei Weiß Kreuz-Fanfics, die ich nie gepostet habe, aber verschrottet habe ich sie nicht. Oder gelöscht...das mache ich nicht. Ich bewahre auch immer die Originale der geänderten Szenen meiner jetzigen Geschichten auf.
Ich habe mir als Kind schon früher immer Geschichten ausgedacht, die wir dann draußen nachgespielt haben (heutzutage nennt man das dann LARP). Oder die ich mit Barbie und Ken und anderen Spielzeugen nachgespielt habe. Dann hatte ich irgendwann Lust, aufzuschreiben, was meine Fantasie sich ausdenkt und habe das sehr eifrig getan, am Anfang noch per Hand, dann auf dem PC. Traf sich ganz gut, denn so konnte ich schreiben, was ich lesen wollte. 😎. Irgendwann waren die Dinge dann auch wirklich lesbar. ☺️
