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A Missed Opportunity

Astarion never comes to confess to you before Moonlight Tower.

Being the BAMF you are, you confront him with the dreaded "what are we" conversation.

Short, sweet, to the point. Idiots in love confessing to each other.

Astarion watches you from his tent. He does it constantly, and you are well-aware of it. Sometimes, you purposefully catch his eye, your own gleaming with intent. He never backs down, yet he never acts on your significant looks, either. Tonight, you decide, enough is enough. You're nearly to Baldur's Gate, now, after two months of traveling with your erstwhile companions - your band of misfits, if you will. Hells, you're supposed to arrive in Rivington in two days' time.  Enough is enough. If you are just prey or just a plaything, you deserve to know, at least so you can make an educated decision for yourself. You should be allowed to decide if you're willing to be a...a plaything forever or not. You're not completely certain you're against it, considering the depth of your feelings for the man, but you still deserve to have a choice in the matter. He owes you that much, at least. 

Heaving a great breath - one you didn't even realize you'd been holding - you stand up from your seat at the campfire and do your best to stride confidently to Astarion's tent. His eyes widen a fraction; if you weren't so familiar with his facial expressions, you likely would have missed it. 

"Astarion," you say, "we need to talk. Now."

"Why, whatever about, darling? Have you changed your mind about our little deal? I would hate to lose such a scrumptious snack, but I understand if I must."

You shake your head in the negative. "No, Astarion. We need to talk about, well, us."

He puts his wine glass down and rakes a hand - quite elegantly, mind you - through his artfully disheveled hair. "Must we?"

"Yes," you say, firmly steeling what little resolve you have.

"Fine." He huffs, grabbing you by the hand and leading you quickly and quietly to a nearby grove. The need for privacy seems to be at an all-time high, you think idly. 

"What do you want to know, Tav?"

"Everything. We've slept together once, over a month ago, after the party, and I've been your dinner every night for even longer. Am I just a plaything to you? A toy?"

He lets out an anguished groan. "No. You're not."

You blink. You blink again. A third time, you blink. You'd not been expecting that. 

Noticing your obvious confusion, he rakes a much less graceful hand through his hair, which is now in a much less artful disarray, you note. He's obviously disgruntled, or, perhaps...frustrated? With you? With himself? All of the above?

"You haven't ever been 'just' a plaything. At first." He sighs once again, "you were a...means to an end. It was supposed to be simple. I seduce you, use you for protection, maybe food... But damn it all, you had to go and be...nice!...in a way I've never experienced before. Nobody has ever  given me a choice before, at least, not since Cazador turned me. But you, Tav, you give me choices all the time! To feed on you or not, to pick campsites, to hunt various animals for everyone's dinner, including my own...To not bite that strange Drow woman." He visibly shivers at the mention of the Blood Alchemist.

Through all of this, you just stare at him in a dumb, stunned silence. 

"Do you get what I'm saying, Tav? I don't really know WHAT you are, but you're so much more than a plaything or a means to an end. You deserve something...real. I want us to be something real."

Breaking out of your stupor, you sidle closer. "May I kiss you?"

Astarion gives you an affronted look of pure indignation. "I pour my heart and soul out to you, and you think you need to ask to kiss me?"

You merely nod. "You always have a choice, Astarion. Always."

With a quiet growl, he surges toward you with inhuman speed and pulls you into a ferocious, bruising, breathless kiss.

A moment later, when you break for air, you smirk. "Nice of you to profess your undying love for me, Astarion!"

The squeak of pure indignation is worth the scowl he throws your way for the next few minutes. It goes away, however, when you whisper in his ear that you feel the same.

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Exposed Back

Astarion x gnTav

Summary: A short but sweet moment where Astarion feels comfortable and safe with Tav.

“I know you don’t like your back- for obvious reasons- but it truly can’t be stated enough how beautiful you are.” The way Tav said it was borderline dreamy to his ears. The two were laying together on their bedroll with his back to them for a change as he read. They laid behind him slowly stroking the small of his back, just below his scars, admiring the elegant dip and curve of his spine. At this point it wasn’t just Tav’s tent anymore with how present Astarion always was in it, even when they weren’t there. He always tried staying in his own but he couldn’t rest when he craved the comfort of theirs.Their tent always surrounded him in a blanket of their scent that his own just lacked. Their things were just simply better than his own because of it.

He made a small hum of acknowledgement at their comment. Normally people focusing on that specific aspect of him made him uneased but they even made his back feel precious. “You can touch it, you know.”

Acting on impulse Tav gave his tush a little pinch over his trousers. They had known what he ment but they couldn’t help themself. He was too fun to tease and they felt the need to lighten the mood.

Astarion couldn’t fight the giggle he let out and playfully smacked whatever of them he could reach behind him with his book. “Not that you fool.” His wide grin could be heard in his voice. How they could turn a sleepy soft moment into such a warm humorous time he’d never know, but he hoped they’d never stop. It always made these vulnerable moments so much more comfortable. Really just having them there made being vulnerable so much more natural to him. “I meant the scar. You can get your pinches in later.”

He heard the remaining chuckles bubble from them as they calmed into the intimate moment. What he wouldn’t do to always be the reason for that sound. The soft draw of fingers slowly worked their way up from his lower back to up his spine. They’re hands gently traced the line down the center of his back. Focusing on the curve. While he was braced at first, he slowly relaxed under their repetitive motion. Their warmth melting into the cold flesh. Tav only explored further after they felt his body fully untense itself. Moving on from the delicate dip of his spine to the muscles covering his shoulder blades. Smoothing the skin with their gentle hands, massaging their warmth into his muscles. The scars were barely a thought for either of them as Astarion melted under their sickeningly sweet touch.

Tav could stay here forever watching their guarded lover grow soft in their arms. And Astarion could stay here forever, letting himself enjoy the cathartic comfort of being in his favorite person’s space, with his favorite person wrapped around him.

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i really wanted to hear how they sounded and i am even more un-okay lol

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Halsey, SUGA | Lilith

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Dewdrop being grumpy and angry at any Sibling that dares speak to him except you because the one time he was upset you came and sat next to him, you didn’t say anything until you had finished making him a daisy crown, carefully placing it on his head and telling him he looked beautiful

He had Papa charm the flower crown so it would never die and he could keep it forever

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Forgot how to breathe for a second…

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Headcanons: The Ghouls first meeting / Developing a crush on you

I'll do a part 2 with the ghoulettes don't worrrrryyy

Dewdrop

• Standoff-ish, is feisty with you at first

• Copia has to remind him to be nice to you since you're still new to the ministry.

• Has a lot of trust issues, but you are patient with him.

• You always greet him with a smile and he just sneers at you. But that doesn't stop you from making an effort for friendship

• One day you do something extra thoughtful and you mend the neck of his favorite guitar when he broke it in a fit of rage. He. Was. Speechless.

• "You did this? But, I've been such an ass to you..." "It's no problem, I know how much it meant"

• His feelings for you did a complete 180. He didn't make any rude face expressions when you smiled at him, he could only look away an blush. Other times he'd just wave.

• His tail wags when he sees you despite his face holding no expression. He has to tuck it in his trousers it gets so bad.

• You complement his long hair and he let's you touch it. His face has never been so red when you leaned closer to run your fingers through it.

• "Fuck, I'm such a pathetic loser. (Reader) would never think of me that way"

• He gnaws at his claws while daydreaming about you

Aether

• Warm and welcoming when you first meet

• Instantly becomes friends with you, he's definitely one of the more extroverted ghouls from the rest of the group.

• Finally, he has a work buddy. It's a little exhausting being Copias right-hand ghoul.

• Enjoys your company so much that he asks you to help out with more things around the ministry

• At first he thought he'd only see you as a good friend. But one day he hears you humming one of his favorite songs while in the library. He stays extra silent so you don't know he's there. Fell for you so hard you could compare it to falling down the steps.

• His pointed ears perk up everytime he hears you, smells you, hell, even by looking at you.

• Copia ships you two

• You gave him a little peck on the cheek when he bought you your favorite food while working. He left your office with the widest grin the world had ever seen.

• Never washed his cheek again until Cumulus had to basically hose his face down.

• Puffs his chest out to look more macho, always loves it when you complement his strength.

Rain

• Introverted. A ghoul of few words. Doesn't say anything when you first meet, only nods his head.

• As soon as you talk to him, he averts his eyes and keeps conversations short.

• You understand that he doesn't like talking, so you try communicating without words before he's comfortable enough talking to you.

• Seeing him while in a meeting, your eyes met. He was about to look away but you slip him a note from under the table.

• 'hiii, how r u?'

• His heart skips a beat, but he gives you a thumbs up.

• First it was notes, then it was hand gestures and face expressions. Finally, you two started having conversations

• He becomes more confident after you two became friends. Spoke up and had more faith in himself.

• He started crushing when you cared enough to slip him that note.

• Writes songs about you but hides them in his acoustic guitar. (Yes he plays bass, but likes to play acoustic guitars from time to time)

• He LOVES your eyes, he feels enraptured in your gaze.

Swiss

• Flirty, very flirty

• You can only laugh at his corny pick up lines. That satisfies him enough to know that you have a good sense of humor

• Is naturally very talkative, so it's easy to have conversations with him.

• Continues with using pickup lines on you, honestly he's never had anyone to use them on besides some of his fellow ghouls.

• Until the day comes when you flirt back with him. Satan, that awoke something in him.

• Also, he's very touchy, so he constantly wraps his arms around you and rests his head on your shoulder.

• You think nothing of it since you've seen him do the same with Dewdrop and Phantom. But he's definitely doing it just so the other Ghouls know you're his.

• Loves to show his teeth off for you, you've nicknamed him "Biggy Smiles"

• Quietly purrs when he hears you talk

• The ghouls know how badly he wants you, he talks about you nonstop.

• This man is so down bad. Catch him making up scenarios about you and him. Sounds familiar doesn't it?

• Likes to watch you work from afar, he doesn't want to make his love for you too obvious just yet

Phantom

• Ah yes, the new guy.

• You were there when he was summoned from the depths of hell.

• The first person he laid eyes on was not Papa, but you. You intrigued him in a way no other human has.

• You were assigned to teach him all of his tasks, introducing him to the other ghouls, and to fit him for his Ritual/concert clothing.

• He is very playful with you, he treats you like a fellow ghoul.

• Follows you around like a lost puppy, still doesn't feel like he fits in. You tell him that he's being silly and that the other Ghouls like him despite what he thinks.

• Well, he also just wants to be with you. He's very protective when he's around you, especially with the more flirty ghouls sneaking glances at you now and again.

• He likes his ghoul friends, but will fight for you if they even think of making an advance towards you.

• He's also a flirt, will tease you when you're working. It's worse when it's at a ritual and he sees you in the front of the crowd. He puts his guitar his shoulder, kneels down, and stares at you while smirking.

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This is literally how they pulled Phantom out of the pit

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Did I mention my favorite band?

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one with the wind 🍁

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More than Vampiric Charms (Astarion x Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: After some banter between Astarion and Jaheira goes too far, you (Tav) take some time to remind Astarion that he is so much more than a pair of fangs.

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Comfort, Vampire Spawn Astarion, set in Act 3, Astarion is Bad at Feelings, Blood, Blood Drunk, blood as a coping mechanism

A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted for this banter in my last poll! This was a fun one c:

Word count: ~3.2k

Walking through the streets of Baldur's Gate is always an adventure with your group– a particularly fraught adventure on this day, as Jaheira and Astarion seem hellsbent on trading barbs.

It had started out playfully enough, with a snide remark from Astarion, "Oh that building used to be a delightful little sweets shop about a hundred years ago. Though I suppose the crone would remember that, wouldn’t she?”

Jaheira, used to remarks about her age, often being the one to start them, was ready with a quick quip back, “Was that before or after your hair turned gray? With my old age, I can never remember.”

Astarion visibility bit back a remark about this being his natural hair color when you glared back at both of them. “Could we focus a bit please? You two can reminisce after we’ve seen to this latest bloody basement.”

One trail of blood, a disgusting array of corpses, and a piece of clown later and the two of them were at it again.

“Jaheira,” Astarion had started in a light tone– a clear indicator that he had no intent to focus. “Have you considered taking on the role of Dribbles the clown yourself? The makeup might help cover all those pesky wrinkles.”

The druid had snickered, appreciating the comment, and shot back, “I think you would be better suited to the role, given you are already a fool.”

That time, Karlach had interrupted, “Don’t either of you dare! No one could replace this Baldurian hero.”

“Which is exactly why we’re helping to piece him back together,” you’d confirmed with a nod. “Besides, you’re both cranky enough to make the children weep.”

“Darling!” Astarion had gasped, an offended hand on his chest. “How could you say that about me?”

You’d ignored his question, instead choosing to deposit a quick kiss on his pursed lips. A soft, effective bandaid that left the man with crossed arms and a reluctant smile. 

Moments later, you were ushering the group out of the building and into the city. Insults forgotten, everyone began trudging the familiar path back to the Elfsong to clean up.

Now, along this very path, you hear Jaheira strike up a new conversation with Astarion– one that has your ears perking up, even as you continue to lead the way ahead.

“It seems that you and our leader are closer than ever,” the woman observes, a smile in her voice.

There’s a moment of silence, and you can practically see Astarion’s suspicious expression in your mind’s eye as he assesses the situation. “Yes, you could say that,” he finally replies. “What can I say? I am, after all, quite charming.”

“I am glad it is your non-vampiric charms our friend has fallen for, Astarion.” A short, thoughtful pause follows before she asks, “It is, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” Astarion responds, his voice reaching a comically high pitch– one that almost makes you laugh. You want to hear this conversation more than most though, so not a sound escapes your lips. The vampire scoffs before he continues. "Is it so unbelievable that they would simply like me?"

There’s a clear hesitation as Astarion’s words hang in the air.

You wonder why Jaheira isn’t responding, what her expression must be– but before you can turn around to find out more, Astarion is speaking again.

“If you insist on prying,” he starts, clearing his throat a bit pointedly. “Perhaps you’d care to join us. And see how much we enjoy one another.”

The insinuation in his tone is almost enough to have you spinning around– teasing Karlach or Shadowheart is one thing, but Jaheira? Gods, you can feel the heat rising up your neck– “Why?” Jaheira snaps back. “Do you require some instruction on how the deed is done?”

“I’m sure even I could learn some new tricks from an old veteran such as yourself,” Astarion replies, mirth shining through in his tone.

Wait, is he actually inviting her?

You know you need to stop this conversation before it mortifies you any further. “Stop it, both of you!” you say, turning your head back, trying your best to keep a stern, not-at-all embarrassed expression on your face. “We don’t need the next installment of ‘Love at First Knife’ getting any more convoluted.”

There’s some grumbling from Astarion, an amused smile from Jaheira, and a chortle from Karlach, but otherwise your group makes it back to the Elfsong without tearing each other– or their clothes– apart.

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That evening, Astarion slips away.

It’s not an unusual occurrence– some days his hunger is harder to ignore than others, on some you hadn’t found nearly enough evil to suck dry. Ultimately, he never wanted to take too much blood from you, so he chooses to forage as he has taken to calling it.

As a result, you think nothing of it at first, settling into bed after dinner with a book propped between your hands. After all, Cazador is dead, and Astarion is more than capable of taking down some of the most fearsome enemies in the city– he should take all the time he needs to himself.

But the hours pass, and Astarion has yet to return. The candles around you begin to dwindle, words begin to swim on a page you haven’t turned in quite some time, and sleep slowly but surely starts to drag your eyelids down.

It has almost claimed you when the door to your shared room at the Elfsong slams shut. You hear groans from around the room as those who were similarly drifting off to bed are shocked awake, everyone expecting yet another unwelcome visitor. You almost don’t have time to react before an armor-clad vampire lands atop of you.

You do react though, instinctively striking at the man with the spine of your book, a loud ‘thwack’ letting you know that your contact was true.

“Oof,” Astarion mutters, now fully splayed across your torso like a stretching cat. “Darling, must you be so violent?”

“Astarion?” you ask, putting down your book, shaking off the beginning throes of sleep as you realize what’s transpired. “Weapons down everyone, it’s Astarion.”

After a few affirmative grumbles from around the room, you turn your attention back to the vampire, “Are you alright? Did you get injured?”

“Mmm,” he murmurs, burying his face in your blanket, and rubbing at the spot where you’d hit him. “Nothing's the matter. Everything is perfectly dandy.”

His words slur though and something seems to be amiss. His movements are fluid, his body weight is completely and utterly relaxed onto you.

Almost as if…

“Are you… drunk?” you haven’t seen him like this since the bear he drank near the grove. When you’d asked him the question then, he’d shrugged it off– but it was certainly the closest to drunk you’d ever seen him.

“Not strictly speaking, no…” he drolls, tilting his head slightly to stare at you with one eye. His cheeks are flushed, a telltale sign of his recent feeding, and his eye is glazed over, its blissful sheen telling you all that you need to know.

“Have a good dinner, did you?” you ask, smiling down at him wearily. You can hardly fault him for indulging, especially after the couple of weeks you’ve had.

He chuckles, his one visible eye crinkling a bit. “Oh yes. A rather large bugbear. Hardly knew what bit him.”

You run a hand through Astarion’s hair, and respond, “Well done, my sweet, bloodthirsty vampire.”

Normally, such sweet words of unabashed ​​flattery would elicit a smile, a laugh, maybe even a kiss– but tonight Astarion freezes under your touch, his eye going wide before he tucks his face back into the bedding.

“Astarion?” you ask, your previous worry about injury now promptly replaced by a worry of a much deeper hurt.

“It’s nothing,” he mutters, voice sounding distant.

You scratch at his scalp, a bit, trying to encourage him back toward you. “Love, you know you’re a terrible liar. What’s wrong?”

He gives a soft, annoyed huff– an endearing, drunken noise were it not for the fact that he seems determined not to look at you. And continue to crush you with the full weight of his body.

“Astarion,” you say again, with a bit more emphasis, shaking his head a little with your next scratch. “If nothing is truly wrong, I will wake up Karlach. You know she would love to see you in this state.” As if to punctuate your point, a snore sounds from a few beds over, where you know the barbarian slumbers.

“Please don’t,” he murmurs, finally turning around to look at you fully.

You’re surprised to see his eyebrows furrowed, his lips turned down in a truly melancholy frown– always an expressive man, it seems that Astarion’s intoxicated demeanor is twice as exaggerated. Cute, you think. But also concerning. “Love,” you whisper, running a hand along his face. “Talk to me.”

Astarion hesitates, his watery eyes wincing as he debates his next words. Those same red eyes show an unexpected amount of vulnerability– all that bugbear blood is keeping his expression open, his entire face a rosy hue. His mouth opens, closes, his body shifts, and he fumbles with the latches on his armor as he thinks. You simply lay there, playing with his curls until he’s ready.

When he finally speaks, his words take you by surprise.

“You don’t just like me because I’m a vampire… do you?”

“What?” you ask, eyebrows raising in disbelief. Surely, you misheard him.

“You know,” he continues, waving a hand about the air. “My vampiric charms. The fangs. The blood sucking. The mysterious allure?”

“Why in the nine hells would you think that?” You reach a hand out to grab his, tugging on it gently to try to get him to sit up.

Astarion’s eyes drift away from you, but he does sit up, legs draping over your stomach. “Just… because of something Jaheira said.”

Oh. The conversation you’d been eavesdropping on.

“Do you mean what she said earlier? On our way back to the Elfsong?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Well, yes,” he mutters, still not looking at you. “Though I can’t help but notice you haven’t answered my question…”

“Astarion,” you start, releasing his hand, only to place it on the slightly flushed skin of his cheek. “No, I do not only like you because you’re a vampire.” Your words are firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

His eyes meet yours again, and still you can see so much doubt, so much unmitigated fear. “Are you certain? You truly do seem to enjoy it when I bite you.”

“Well, that’s true,” you admit with a small wince. It does feel rather… good when he bites you, it would be a lie to say otherwise and, besides, you’ve told him as much before. “But that’s not why I like you, you fool.”

Astarion’s bottom lip slips into a small pout and he moves away from your hand. “You’re not very convincing, you know? Especially when you call me a fool.”

You scooch out a bit from under him, leaving your legs under his. With all of the severity in the world, you reply, “If it makes you feel better, I’m a fool too.”

“You are?” he asks, curious despite himself– easily falling for your little trap.

“A fool for you.”

The noise that escapes him is half groan, half chuckle, and his mouth pulls into a lopsided little smile that you’re not certain you would have earned were he not a bit blooddrunk. “Gods, how the hells did I fall for you?”

“Now you’re asking the right questions,” you respond with a smirk on your face. When you place a hand on his knee, the smirk turns into a small smile. “But I’m being genuine– I don’t like you because you’re a vampire. And before you ask, I don’t love you because of your vampirism either.”

He gives a small huff. “Well, Jaheira made it sound as if there wasn’t much else to care for.” An uncharacteristic admittance from him– normally he would brush off such a statement with a proud declaration of how phenomenal he is. But it seems that Jaheira’s words cut deep– and that blood has loosened his lips.

“Jaheira, despite all of her many, many years of experience–” you enjoy the full laugh that elicits. “simply doesn’t have my refined taste. There are so many reasons to like you, love. In fact, vampirism doesn’t even make the list.”

“Oh, you’re keeping track, are you?” he asks, folding his arms and body over his legs and smiling up at you.

“Maybe,” you murmur, leaning forward toward him. “Would you like a sampling of reasons?”

The look he gives you then is hopeful, but more than a little dread slips through in his shining red eyes. When he answers, his voice is barely above a whisper. “Only if you mean them.”

This withdrawn, unsure Astarion isn’t a common sight to you, but, like every other facet of the man before you, he’s no less lovable. So you lean forward, placing a kiss on his pale forehead, and say, “I mean them with my whole heart.”

“Then… I suppose I ought to be lavished with them," he murmurs, and you spot the blush intensifying over his cheeks, now also coloring his ears.

Coupled with his fluid, inebriated state, his heart laid bare before you, you want to scream the reasons from the roof of the Elfsong, if only for him to believe you. But, as it is, the soft snores of your companions keep your voice hushed, your face close to his as you begin.

“Let’s see… should I start with the first thing that stood out to me?”

He hums in agreement, and closes his eyes, as if preparing to listen to the sweetest tune known to the entirety of Faerun.

“Well, it started with your first lie, I think,” you start.

Astarion gives a disapproving groan, but doesn’t open his eyes.

“My dear, you said you said you had a ‘brain thing’ cornered– I hope you know the smile on my face wasn’t from confidence,” you say with a new, fond smile at the memory. “I just knew from that moment on, you didn’t much care for what others thought of you, as long as your goals were met. A kindred spirit. Or so you said that day.”

At that, he reopens his eyes. “That’s not true.”

“We’re not kindred spirits?” you ask, an unexpected tinge of hurt blooming in your chest.

“That’s true,” he says, balming the hurt quickly. “It’s not true that I don’t care what others think of me. I do. Well, maybe not everyone.” His eyes dart toward Gale’s bed and you stifle a snicker. “But I certainly care what you think of me.”

You look into his crimson eyes, a bit clearer now than when you began talking– the blood seems to be working its way through his system. His words come from a place of honesty, not a lack of inhibition.

“Then, let me assure you here and now,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. “I think–” Another quick peck on his lips. “you’re the funniest–” A kiss to his nose. “the most deft–” A brush of lips against his temple. “creative, endearing, brave–” Each word comes with a kiss along his jaw. “man I’ve ever met.”

Astarion’s eyes look at you, his face still for a moment as he considers your words. When he finally speaks, it’s a quiet, choked up question, “Oh, is that it?”

“Would you like me to keep going?” you ask, lips perched just above his eyebrow, ready for another round.

He shakes his head ever so slightly. “No– no need or you’ll be here all night, surely,” he says, posturing as best as he can while still looking at you with fearful eyes. Almost as if your candid praise is simply too much for him to bear.

It may be too much, and you’re not one to push it.

“Very well,” you say, pulling back. “But I didn’t even get to how good you look covered in blood…”

The man gives a light laugh at that, some of his nerves melting before praise he understands– his appearance is a source of comfort, one that brings him back to himself. “Oooh yes, I do look dashing in red, don’t I?” he purrs, a content smile forming on his face.

“That you do,” you assure, with your own warm look. You wish he would accept all praise this easily, but you suppose this is all you can do for now.

So little of what matters to you is his vampirism, his looks… but for a man like Astarion, for whom a kind word felt like a double-edged blade for two centuries? Well, you’re reminded that regardless of how many times you may tell him, whether now when he’s a bit fuzzy around the edges or when you’re in your cups, he may never truly believe you.

No matter, you suppose. I’ll simply keep finding new ways to show him how much I care for him…

“So Jaheira was kidding, right?” Astarion asks, sitting up and finally beginning to remove his leathers.

You nod, moving to help him remove his greaves. “Naturally. I thought you’d been enjoying the conversation, actually.”

“I had been,” he replies, thoughtfully. “But the more I remembered how sinfully you shiver under my fangs…”

He’s dodging before you can so much as flick his ear. “Excuse you. Is that any way to treat your most reliable source of sustenance?”

Astarion smirks as he leans away from you in the bed. “Oh darling, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. After all, you can’t help it.”

“Astarion–”

“Ehem!” You hear from somewhere behind you. It’s followed shortly by Shadowheart’s annoyed voice, “Would the two of you please keep it down? Some of us are trying to rest.”

If by ‘rest’ she means ‘reach the end of her copper novel’, then you suppose she’s right. Either way, you whisper back, “Sorry, I was defending my dignity.”

“What dignity?” she murmurs back. “And in case you’re wondering, you’re both utter fools.”

Oh great, she’d heard everything.

“Shadowheart, were you eavesdropping?” Astarion asks, crawling over you to glare at her from the edge of your bed. He’s half-dressed and still somewhat out of sorts, so you just lean back against the pillows and accept your fate.

“Is it really eavesdropping if I can hear it all clearly?” the cleric says, and you hear her book snap shut. “Besides, Astarion, if you really needed someone to reassure you, you should have asked me.”

“You?” he asks, incredulously. “And why should I ask you?”

“Because,” she starts, and you can hear her wicked smile in her tone. “I can confirm without a shadow of a doubt that there’s no such thing as ‘vampiric charm.’ I’ve never felt less charmed in my entire life.”

You can sense Astarion is just about ready to light Shadowheart’s hair on fire, so you tug him back down from the divide. “Thank you for that clarification, Shadowheart,” you call, biting back a laugh. “And I’m starting to realize none of us really have private conversations, do we?”

“No, we do not,” you hear Gale reply from a few beds away.

With that, Astarion gives an exasperated sigh and the two of you finish removing his armor in silence.  When you’re both finally ready for bed and you whisper to him, “Goodnight.” Shadowheart, Gale, and Wyll all respond, “Goodnight!”

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Love them✨

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The continuation of tailor Astarion ✨️

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reddit is still free. also tbh good riddance for the op

edit for everyone who is confused: shart is shadowheart, people shorten her name that way as a joke on reddit

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it's illegal to not say "oh big stretch" when your dog does a Big Stretch

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Window wings, fragile panes

Shield me from the dark

Warm me with your spark

~~~

Full resolution images and painting videos on Patreon

Part of my glass wings series

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baby boy actually thought he was subtle...