Sanguine || Astarion x Reader

It Will Come Back

In which Astarion tries to proposition you during the tiefling party, but nothing goes to plan afterwards.

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Astarion has rarely been sure of anything in his life. Though, there are three facts in which he was terribly sure of:

- He absolutely despises his old master, Cazador, and would do anything to keep that bastard from breathing in another atom of oxygen.

- The wine that the tieflings brought to this pathetic excuse of a celebratory party was absolutely rank and stinks of piss and vinegar.

- And, that he fucking hates the kindness his defacto leader has been showing him ever since you found him on that beach near the Nautiloid crash region.

The taste of your blood lingers on his tongue, taunting him in whispered voices like a curse he could never get rid of. It beckons him to seek you out, to enter your tent and ask to have his fill of that delicious blood of yours. To never leave your side because he just couldn't get enough of you.

Perhaps, this was why Cazador forbade his spawn from drinking the blood of thinking creatures. He has never felt this needy and feral, even in the days when his master starved him.

It frustrates him to no end that this weird obsession he has with you clouds his Grand Plan. It was supposed to be you who succumbs to his charms, not the other way around.

Even though Astarion knows you're at least a little more than fond of him, he feels as if there's an imbalance in your relationship. He honestly feels like a lapdog, always at the ready by your side, ready to gnaw on whatever you were willing to give him, and he feels stupid enough not to feel disgusted by this.

He'll ask you to join his bed again tonight, he thinks. You all had just saved the Tieflings from a Goblin attack at the Grove. It was completely arduous and unnecessarily difficult, but hey, at least you've all got vinegar for wine, right?

Right?

Astarion wants to jump off a fucking cliff.

He did not just gain freedom and access to the Sun to be someone he was not- a hero. But, he can't help it. Where you go, he goes. He needs your protection after all. That was why he was doing all this effort to charm abd seduce you.

It was his only reason.

RIGHT?

If he doesn't stop panic-thinking about his godsdamned plan, he swears he's going to go insane before they got rid of the tadpoles in their heads.

Less thinking, more doing. It's what he's good at, he supposes.

So, Astarion quietly waits for you to saunter over, a goblet in his hand, occasionally getting swirled flirtatiously when you glance at him.

You go around the camp, doing your usual rounds with your other companions, making the additional effort to speak to the Tieflings and Halsin.

Godsdamned Halsin.

That massive hunk of a Wood Elf they had to rescue in teh Goblin Camp. Astarion still doesn't see how the druid should've just Wild Shaped into a rat and scurry the fuck out of the prison. He inwardly groans at the druid now, how he looks at you with such doting eyes.

He hates it.

And the way you were smiling at him sends shivers down his spine.

If the druid keeps this up, Astarion's going to lose his one chance at destroying the evil bastard Cazador. He silently curses to himself when he sees Halsin knowingly grin at you.