I don’t know if you remember me but it’s sukuna-connoisseur, just with a name change lol
maybe I’ll go back to a Leon Kennedy username again, but who knows…
anyway, I just wanted to say a very late congrats on your baby! I hope you’ve been doing well, and I can’t wait to read whatever you have in store for the future! :] <3
oh my !!! i'm so sorry for getting to this sooooooooooooo very late </3
it's okay, we love a good rebrand/name change 🙂↕️ changing to a leon kennedy username, though..... well we definitely couldn't blame you for that
BUT THANK YOU!!! baby was about six months when you sent that, and now he's a bit older than one!!!! time flies when you lurk on tumblr instead of posting lol </3 but i have been doing very well!!! finallyyyyyy graduating from college this semester and moving to a new city (and state!!!) this summer for my partner's internship 😁 so i've been busy, but otherwise so great!!!
I HAVEN'T WRITTEN ANYTHING PLS DON'T SUE ME. howeverrrrrrrr i did just republish my weirdo astarion fic, and in doing so i reread it, and i think it deserves a second part.... maybe even a third. i also have fallen hopelessly for dr. jack abbot on the pitt, and thus shawn hatosy, and THUS his weirdo freak pope cody from animal kingdom. so i thinkkkkkk i will be attempting to write at least one (1) thing for both dr. abbot and pope. very different from what i used to do but!!! alas.
wow i yapped alot! tldr: i am good and i appreciate you sending this even if i've getting to it chronically late ✨ I HOPE YOU'RE WELL TOO!!!
pairing: astarion ancunin x gn!reader, astarion ancunin x gn!tav
summary: your relationship with astarion has ran its course, but what happens when he recognizes the sound of your heart in a crowded tavern?
word count: 4,071
a/n: this is post-game spawn astarion!! he's a freak here. like he's kind of a obsessed weirdo. idk, i wanted to play into all the weird things vampires can do 🤷♀️ also shamelessly admitting that the basis of this comes from 'the sound' by the 1975. def recommend giving it a listen :) anyways though SORRY I WAS GONE!! hope you guys accept this as a decent apology gift <33
THIS IS A REPOST. i accidentally deleted this instead of editing it </3
warnings: ooc spawn!astarion, mean/toxic astarion, he's also kinda obsessed, astarion chokes reader???, blood depictions, blood drinking, stalker astarion if you squint, not a happy ending. SORRY I LIKE WEIRD FREAK SPAWN ASTARION!!! lmk if i need to add more!
Your relationship with Astarion had always been tumultuous. Perhaps that was because it was forged amidst the potential ending of the world, or perhaps it had something to do with the insane emotional baggage both of you brought to the table. Whatever it had been, it had not been enough to keep the two of you together.
Somewhere between killing Cazador and defeating the Absolute, things fell apart. And it wasn’t just Astarion’s fault, or just yours. Both of you… stopped trying? That didn’t feel right. Because you were trying, you really were. But it was never enough, on either side. So, you decided to part ways. It was better that way. At least that’s what you told yourself so that you could sleep at night.
Months passed, and Astarion became but a distant memory of fangs in your skin. Or, you tried to make him little more than that. You kept yourself busy in Baldur’s Gate, running errands of all sorts. You traveled some, but never as far as you did in order to defeat the Absolute. The days were long and grueling. Some nights you woke from nightmares, other nights you spent with lovers you’d never see again. Despite feeling a bit lonely at times, you have learned to enjoy this new circle of life for yourself. The routine kept you grounded. Kept you from thinking too hard about the vampire you once loved.
Taverns also helped. Not just because of the alcohol, but because everyone always wanted to talk about something. You had come to learn that most of the stories you heard were lies - or at least very embellished truths. Regardless, the fellow patrons were good company. They would laugh or cry shamelessly and were always willing to buy you a drink when you looked particularly rough. They didn’t pry, either. To them, you were just some other lonely fool coming to distract themself for an evening. And a good distraction it was, too.
Until that vampire you were trying so hard to forget walks in.
For a moment, the world stops. Your eyes are locked on the figure in the door, his white curls seeming to glow in the moonlight outside. He winces when he steps inside - he didn’t like loud places, you remembered that. He looks just the same as you remember him, of course. A man unaged for two hundred years. What was a few months to his eternal not-quite-youth?
You look away before he can see you. And though you try to focus back on the adventurers in front of you, you find it difficult to do so. Your heart pounds with anxiety. You aren’t sure why you’re worried. Even upon parting with Astarion, he had remained relatively civil. But you knew Astarion better than most, so you knew that time did not heal Astarion’s wounds. No, time only seemed to make the vampire’s wounds fester up and get infected. If he wasn’t angry with you then, you had a feeling he would be angry with you now.
“I’ll be right back,” you say to the group of strangers you’re sitting with. You stand slowly, eyes scanning the crowded tavern for Astarion. You don’t see him, and your eyebrows furrow together - had you imagined him? It wouldn’t be the first time you saw something that wasn’t actually there.
The bar is crowded, the bartender working quickly to try to please everyone. You take one look at the scene and decide that slipping out the back door into the quiet street outside will bring you more relief than waiting however long for a single drink will.
As predicted, the streets of Baldur’s Gate are quiet. The moon is high in the sky, the fullness of it casting a soft glow over the street before you. A cat scurries out of a barrel nearby, but other than that, you are alone. Your back presses to the wall of the tavern beside the door, sliding down until you’re crouched on the ground, your hands rubbing across your face.
This was all rather silly, wasn’t it? Running and hiding because your ex-lover showed up at the most popular tavern in the city you knew he resided in. It was childish, pathetic even. Still, you don’t get up. You let the cool night breeze dance over the exposed parts of your skin while your hands fall away from your eyes. Your eyes remain closed though as you inhale and exhale slowly - you were getting quite good at this self-soothing thing, weren’t you? You hear the door opening and the sound of feet stepping outside, but don’t think twice about it. People were allowed to leave the tavern, weren’t they?
“Ah, I thought I heard you.”
Correction - everyone except for Astarion was allowed to leave the tavern.
Your eyes fly open, and you’re on your feet in a moment. Astarion stands before you, wearing that all too-familiar smirk of his. You watch as his crimson eyes flicker across your body twice over, stunned into silence. Your heart is racing still, though you would wager it’s beating faster now based on how loud it was in your own ears.
“Cat got your tongue, my dear?” Astarion tilts his head to the side when he speaks. He is mocking you, of course. You were right to assume that he had grown angry with time. “I could hear you all the way inside, you know. Isn’t that just so interesting?”
Hear you? What in the Nine Hells was he going on about?
“What are you talking about?” You manage to ask, face wrinkled up in confusion. Astarion seems confused for a moment too, a distant look in his eyes that you knew meant he was trying to recall a memory. Impatient with him and his growing silence, you shift from foot to foot. Get on with it, you think.
“Hm, seems I forgot to tell you about that,” Astarion seems to say to himself. He focuses on you fully once more, waving his wrist when he next speaks. “Your heart, darling. I can hear it.”
If this information had been presented to you a year ago, you might have slapped him. But you’d become quite desensitized to weird things - especially weird things pertaining to the nature of vampirism. At least this part of Astarion’s nature made sense to you, unlike his inability to cross running water. If he was meant to live off of blood, then you supposed he should be able to hear the thing at the center of every living creature that made that blood flow.
But there were countless people in the tavern. You scoff - he’s lying. He couldn’t have been able to identify your heart among the numerous others in there. He must have seen you when you slipped outside.
“Your lies flatter me, Astarion. Truly,” you state sarcastically. Once, your sarcasm might have been full of mirth and lightheartedness when it came to him. But none of that is present now. Perhaps time had made your hurt fester, too? You always were more like Astarion than you cared to admit.
“You wound me.” Astarion presses a hand to cover his dead heart in mock hurt. But he smirks down at you still. “Don’t you think I know exactly how to flatter you?”
Astarion takes a step closer to you. You’re suddenly very aware that the wall of the tavern is pressing against you. It’s almost frightening how much he looks like a predator like this. It’s almost… exciting. Your heart races faster, and Astarion’s smirk turns into a knowing grin.
You should’ve ran a stake through his heart when you had the chance.
“I do not have time for your antics.” Your voice conveys the same authority you once used to lead a makeshift army against the Absolute. Astarion finds it funny that you think it will work on him, the person who resented authority more than anyone or anything you had ever met.
“My antics are simply me wishing to catch up with an old friend. I hadn’t realized that was a crime these days.” He takes another step forward, that knowing grin of his not disappearing.
“Oh, a friend? Is that what we were?” Somehow, the implication that you had only been a friend hurts more than any insult he could possibly hurl at you right now. Had he truly thought so little of your nights together? Of the secrets you shared, the times you let him feed from you?
“You wear your heart on your sleeve, my love. So easy to hurt it, isn’t it?” Astarion has moved so close to you now, that if he required air to breathe he’d be breathing in what you were exhaling out. You watch his eyes dance across your face, then trail down to your neck. Wordlessly, he grabs your chin and tilts your neck to the side.
Your hand is on his wrist immediately, the other one reaching for your blade strapped to your hip. You think he’s going to bite you.
“Ah, ah,” Astarion stops your hand from grabbing your weapon with a tight grip around your wrist. “I’m just looking. Always so hungry for blood, aren’t we?” You don’t like the comparison of your desire to protect yourself to his need to drink blood. You don’t comment on it though, too busy watching his eyes burning into your neck.
If he wasn’t going to bite you, then - Oh. The scars.
Two puncture wounds on the right side of your throat, scarred over from the amount of times Astarion had bitten into that exact same spot to drink from you. You feel his hand leave your chin and push your collar to the side, exposing the scars to him more. He chuckles darkly, and you use your free hand to shove him away from you.
Astarion stumbles back, a look of surprise on his face. It’s quickly replaced with anger - an emotion you had seen on his face so many times before, but never directed at you until this very moment.
“Do those make finding a little playmate difficult?” Astarion asks, eyebrows raised in mock interest. You would ask how he knew about your habits, but he did tell you once that he had a remarkable sense of smell. He could probably smell the elf you’d taken home last night on you still. You have half the mind to be embarrassed. The other half of your mind really wants to hit him.
“That’s not really your business anymore, is it?” You counter, crossing your arms over your chest. You’ve moved off of the wall now, making sure there’s empty space behind you should he try to approach you again. “But, I am glad you are still as jealous as ever.”
“Hah! Jealous!” Astarion does that fake little laugh of his. He goes so far as to bend over and then wipe a non-existence tear from his eye when he stands. “Darling, I truly could not care any less who or what you are doing in your free time. Rather - I could not care any less about you.”
It’s your turn to laugh at him. “Bold words for the man who just confessed to knowing the sound of my heart amidst all those other ones in there.”
Astarion doesn’t like this response in the slightest. You grin wickedly as he clenches his fists at his side and narrows his eyes. You two always did know how to hurt one another, didn’t you?
There is a truth to your words though. It was bold for him to claim not to care about you anymore, but to still have the sound of your heart so well memorized that he could find you in the middle of a loud, crowded tavern after months of not seeing each other. It’s almost romantic, if not a bit obsessive. Though, Astarion’s version of romance always had been a bit obsessive, hadn’t it?
“Cat got your tongue, Astarion?” You use his own words on him, tilting your head in the very same way that he had done not five minutes ago. You don’t suppress the wickedly pleased grin that spreads across your face when Astarion’s jaw clenches. Yes, you knew exactly how to hurt him.
“Very original,” he hisses. You simply shrug - as if all of this and him are not worth your time. He does not like that. Not one bit.
When you and Astarion were together, he was always very careful with you, unless you requested otherwise. You had seen that he was strong in a way that was inhuman, but had never been anywhere close to being on the receiving end of that strength. Until now.
You let out a gasp when you are pushed back against the wall of the tavern. You immediately regret it, given that it leaves you with no air in you when Astarion’s hand wraps around your neck. Not strong enough to bruise, but certainly strong enough to have you reaching for your blade. Again, he beats you there and pins your hand to the wall
“You forget yourself, little dove,” he whispers, mere inches from your face. If someone else were to slip out the back door of the tavern, they would likely think you were two lovers with no shame.
Given that you can not speak, you simply look at him. If you weren’t terrified of choking to death, you might have glared at him. Instead, you look at him with big, wide eyes. They plead for you - they show your fear. Your heart gives it away too. And the way your blood races beneath his hand. Your anatomy betrays your emotions more than you do.
But Astarion’s does, too. In his eyes, you see many things. Anger, of course, but there is also guilt, sadness, fear - hunger. His eyes go to those scars again. Your eyes go impossibly wider in understanding.
Your free hand taps at his wrist repeatedly, begging him to release you. He must see your desperation, because he relents. You would have fallen to your knees while you gasped for air if his hands did not catch you on either side of your waist.
His crimson eyes are darting over your features, watching as you catch your breath. He’s got that far-off look about him again. His hands squeeze your waist gently, as if he was making sure you were still there. You know what this means - how many times had you seen Astarion act just like this because he hadn’t fed in a few days? And given that he was still a spawn and was limited to nights hunting alone, you imagined it might get hard to find something to eat every once in a while.
“I forget myself,” you mumble when you can breathe properly again. You straighten up, expecting Astarion’s hands to remove themselves, but they do not. “Does your hunger always make you act as a feral beast?”
Astarion winces at your insult, as if you had hit him instead of just spoken. He had thought you wouldn’t notice. But those big, wet eyes of his never kept his secrets when he desired for them to be kept most.
“Perceptive as always.” His words are almost a compliment, just as his hands are almost comforting.
“You haven’t come out here to taunt me, then?” You ask, anger seeping into your tone. Did he truly think you would just give him your blood after the stunt he had just pulled? “Were you seeking a meal for the evening?”
Astarion is the one to shrug now. His hands leave your sides - you find yourself almost missing his touch. “I didn’t have a plan, darling. All I knew was that your heart was racing, and I wanted to know why.”
When he said it like that, it made it almost sound like he was worried about you and your safety.
A thick, uncomfortable silence settles over you both like a wet blanket. He’s thinking again, but this time, so are you. You’re thinking about the scars on your neck, the hunger in Astarion’s eyes. You’re thinking about how it used to be comforting to let him drink from you. You’re thinking a lot of stupid, foolish things. You’re also tugging the collar of your shirt down and tilting your head to the side.
“Be quick.” You always were too generous for your own good, weren’t you?
Astarion doesn’t seem to understand what you’re telling him to do until your index finger taps over the scars on your neck. A look of pure delight fills his face, mixing together with surprise and something like mockery.
“In public? My, you’ve gotten dirty, haven’t you?” Astarion says, placing one hand on your side again. You don’t give him the pleasure of a response when his second hand comes up to your neck and traces feather-light touches over the marks. His gaze goes soft when he speaks next, peering into your eyes as if he can see into your very soul. “You are certain?”
No, you are most definitely not certain.
“Yes,” you force out, tearing your eyes away from Astarion. “Do not be greedy.”
Astarion needs no further invitation. The hand that had been tracing your skin finds its spot on the back of your neck, holding you in place while his hand on your hip keeps you steady. The gasp that leaves your lips when his fangs puncture your skin is anything but quiet. Your hands have moved to his shoulder, gripping him so tightly that your knuckles ache. You’d forgotten how uncomfortable it was to have someone’s teeth in your flesh.
He drinks in slow, measured gulps. Those plush lips of his suck gently on your skin, his tongue laps up the liquid that tries to escape his mouth. There is a strange intimacy to it all that you choose to ignore. You choose especially to ignore the soft groan of pleasure that falls from his mouth when your fingers start to get cold and dig further into his shoulders. A single half-shove to his shoulders, and he pulls away, a trickle of your blood making its way down his chin.
Silence sinks into the (very limited) space between the two of you once more. Astarion wipes your blood from his chin, then shows the same courtesy to your neck before covering the puncture wounds with your collar once more. You wrinkle your nose a bit when he takes his thumb into his mouth, sucking the last taste of you from his skin - while maintaining eye contact, of course. It’s revolting - it’s erotic. You don’t let that thought linger.
“Better?” You ask, hoping that the swirl of strange emotions inside of you is masked in your voice.
Astarion smirks - your voice has betrayed you. “Oh, much. You’re too good to me.”
You swallow your spit, your throat bobbing up and down with the movement. Astarion watches it carefully with dilated pupils. He’s still holding your waist, you’re still holding his shoulders. Neither of you makes to move away from the other.
The silence seeps into your very being. It finds the deepest parts of you and closes around them like a pale hand squeezing your neck. It finds your guilt - the old guilt of giving up on the man before you all those months ago. The new guilt of betraying yourself by letting him feed from you. You hadn’t even made him ask.
“Would you like to hear a secret?” He whispers, his eyes back on your face once more.
No. “Yes.”
He smiles at your response. His hand not gripping your waist begins to trace the slopes of your face with practiced familiarity. “I’ve been coming here every night. I heard you in there a few weeks ago - I only just got the courage to step inside tonight. I was hoping to see you.”
For some reason, your mind brushes over everything else he has just confessed, instead focusing on his final sentence. I was hoping to see you. It makes your heart skip a beat like you’re some kind of lovesick child. Astarion’s smile widens, and you curse yourself for not being able to control your racing heart. It’s humiliating to know he can hear the exact reaction your body had to every word he said.
“Why?” You ask, far softer than you wanted to.
“Oh, is it not obvious my dear? I miss you.”
You’re reminded of the time Astarion told you he loved you after only a few nights spent together. He had been trying to manipulate you then - was he doing the same to you now?
“You expect me to believe that?” This time, your voice is forceful as you intended for it to be the first time. “You do not know me if you think I am foolish enough to take you for your word.”
Astarion laughs with his whole chest. His head tilts backward, the moonlight catching in his stunning white curls for a moment and making them appear to glow. His eyes have narrowed when he looks back down at you - you’re playing his game better than he thought you would. Unfortunately for you, though, he knew exactly what he could do to make you lose.
“No. Let me show you.” Astarion waits for no response before he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours. As soon as the familiar pressure of his lips is on yours, your body tenses. You are trying to decide what you want to do. But then he presses more into you, and you melt.
You can taste your blood on his lips. There’s something else, too. Bitter, yet a bit sweet. Some kind of wine, if you had to guess. His fangs brush over your lower lip, threatening to sink into the plush flesh there. But the puncture never comes, and instead it’s his tongue intruding your mouth. You let him explore the space of your mouth, your body shivering when he trails his tongue along your lower lip.
And then he’s gone - his lips glistening with a mixture of your spit and his. You are panting a bit, bringing a hand up to touch your lips as if you can undo what you have just done. You do not even register that Astarion has finally removed himself from your body, too busy trying to make sense of why you hadn’t pushed him away.
You had come to the tavern tonight as part of your routine. To talk with old friends and new, and to not think about the very vampire who stood before you. How had you ended up kissing him and letting him feed from you? You might be sick from the deep sense of betrayal you feel inside of you. You’ve betrayed months of personal work to forget him. And for what? A single kiss and words you know are empty.
“You are perfect, every time,” Astarion remarks, his tongue darting across his lips to clean them of the wetness decorating them. He grins wickedly, then straightens his back. No, no. You know this look. He thinks he’s won.
You fell for his trap.
Again.
“Unfortunately, I do have rather important business to attend to.” He doesn’t even bother to look at you, too busy with straightening out the sleeves of his shirt. “Do keep yourself safe, darling. I would hate for something to happen to my little treat.” And then he’s gone, slipping inside of the tavern through the back door as if he hasn’t just ruined you with a single kiss.
You stand there, heart racing and eyes wide. You want to peel off your skin, to hide within your bones so that no one else could ever bother you. You are mortified. How could you be so stupid? You had known from the beginning that he was toying with you. Yet, you let him drink your blood, kiss your lips. And you would have given him more, if he wanted it.
You clear your throat - it’s your turn to straighten out your clothing now, especially your collar.
Your heart is still racing when you walk away from the tavern. All the way down the street you find yourself repeating one thing, over and over and over: “Don’t you think I know exactly how to flatter you?”
that's genuinely so cute to me, im so happy for you and your partner!! 🫶🏽 it's genuinely so crazy to me but like in a good way of course 😭 he's so lucky to have you as his parent hehe
it really has been forever i missed you too 🪦 but definitely not anything significant has happened for me like you LOL i missed talking to you like this 🏃🏽♀️
no it’s crazy to me too don’t worry 😭
i missed you toooooooooo!!!! i’m actually so glad you made a new account 🫶 obsessed with what you’ve been doing with gojo… like Hell Yeah.
HI HELLO it's me hazel with a different account (i hope you didn't forget me hehe)
YOU HAVE A CHILD??? like a real human baby????? congrats omg 🥹
HAZEL MY BELOVED!!!!!!!!!!!!
hi baby it's been so long omg <333 but YES i have a super cute son who i love very dearly and has been so interested to observe and watch grow these last few months :)))
HELLO! HI! after an unholy amount of time, i have returned to my beautiful blog.
SHORT UPDATE: i had my baby back in january (just two days after my own birthday!). he is very healthy and i have been loving every (very exhausting) second of life with him. on top of that, i have still been doing college work and i have learned that this is most certainly not for the faint of heart - thus my disappearance from here.
buttttt.... my partner and i have found a system that works wonderfully for both of us, and i have found myself with more time to myself that i've had the last few months. that means i have been playing bg3 again and have realized how much i miss writing for them. SO i want to try to get back into that as much as possible. i do have a lot of ideas in my notes app from the last however many months so hopefully i'll start cycling through those soon.
THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!!!! logging back on here and seeing that everyone has continued to read, like, and reblog my work has been a huge blessing. OKAY sorry for the yap fest, i just wanted to update you all. thanks for sticking with me and being patient, it means more to me than you all can even begin to realize!! LOVE YOU <3
romancing halsin for the first time in my current playthrough and i have been so blind to how absolutely lovely this man is. he’ll be consuming my thoughts for the foreseeable future i fear.
pairing: astarion ancunin x gn!reader, astarion ancunin x gn!tav
summary: your relationship with astarion has ran its course, but what happens when he recognizes the sound of your heart in a crowded tavern?
word count: 4,071
a/n: this is post-game spawn astarion!! he's a freak here. like he's kind of a obsessed weirdo. idk, i wanted to play into all the weird things vampires can do 🤷♀️ also shamelessly admitting that the basis of this comes from 'the sound' by the 1975. def recommend giving it a listen :) anyways though SORRY I WAS GONE!! hope you guys accept this as a decent apology gift <33
warnings: ooc spawn!astarion, mean/toxic astarion, he's also kinda obsessed, astarion chokes reader???, blood depictions, blood drinking, stalker astarion if you squint, not a happy ending. SORRY I LIKE WEIRD FREAK SPAWN ASTARION!!! lmk if i need to add more!
Your relationship with Astarion had always been tumultuous. Perhaps that was because it was forged amidst the potential ending of the world, or perhaps it had something to do with the insane emotional baggage both of you brought to the table. Whatever it had been, it had not been enough to keep the two of you together.
Somewhere between killing Cazador and defeating the Absolute, things fell apart. And it wasn’t just Astarion’s fault, or just yours. Both of you… stopped trying? That didn’t feel right. Because you were trying, you really were. But it was never enough, on either side. So, you decided to part ways. It was better that way. At least that’s what you told yourself so that you could sleep at night.
Months passed, and Astarion became but a distant memory of fangs in your skin. Or, you tried to make him little more than that. You kept yourself busy in Baldur’s Gate, running errands of all sorts. You traveled some, but never as far as you did in order to defeat the Absolute. The days were long and grueling. Some nights you woke from nightmares, other nights you spent with lovers you’d never see again. Despite feeling a bit lonely at times, you have learned to enjoy this new circle of life for yourself. The routine kept you grounded. Kept you from thinking too hard about the vampire you once loved.
Taverns also helped. Not just because of the alcohol, but because everyone always wanted to talk about something. You had come to learn that most of the stories you heard were lies - or at least very embellished truths. Regardless, the fellow patrons were good company. They would laugh or cry shamelessly and were always willing to buy you a drink when you looked particularly rough. They didn’t pry, either. To them, you were just some other lonely fool coming to distract themself for an evening. And a good distraction it was, too.
Until that vampire you were trying so hard to forget walks in.
For a moment, the world stops. Your eyes are locked on the figure in the door, his white curls seeming to glow in the moonlight outside. He winces when he steps inside - he didn’t like loud places, you remembered that. He looks just the same as you remember him, of course. A man unaged for two hundred years. What was a few months to his eternal not-quite-youth?
You look away before he can see you. And though you try to focus back on the adventurers in front of you, you find it difficult to do so. Your heart pounds with anxiety. You aren’t sure why you’re worried. Even upon parting with Astarion, he had remained relatively civil. But you knew Astarion better than most, so you knew that time did not heal Astarion’s wounds. No, time only seemed to make the vampire’s wounds fester up and get infected. If he wasn’t angry with you then, you had a feeling he would be angry with you now.
“I’ll be right back,” you say to the group of strangers you’re sitting with. You stand slowly, eyes scanning the crowded tavern for Astarion. You don’t see him, and your eyebrows furrow together - had you imagined him? It wouldn’t be the first time you saw something that wasn’t actually there.
The bar is crowded, the bartender working quickly to try to please everyone. You take one look at the scene and decide that slipping out the back door into the quiet street outside will bring you more relief than waiting however long for a single drink will.
As predicted, the streets of Baldur’s Gate are quiet. The moon is high in the sky, the fullness of it casting a soft glow over the street before you. A cat scurries out of a barrel nearby, but other than that, you are alone. Your back presses to the wall of the tavern beside the door, sliding down until you’re crouched on the ground, your hands rubbing across your face.
This was all rather silly, wasn’t it? Running and hiding because your ex-lover showed up at the most popular tavern in the city you knew he resided in. It was childish, pathetic even. Still, you don’t get up. You let the cool night breeze dance over the exposed parts of your skin while your hands fall away from your eyes. Your eyes remain closed though as you inhale and exhale slowly - you were getting quite good at this self-soothing thing, weren’t you? You hear the door opening and the sound of feet stepping outside, but don’t think twice about it. People were allowed to leave the tavern, weren’t they?
“Ah, I thought I heard you.”
Correction - everyone except for Astarion was allowed to leave the tavern.
Your eyes fly open, and you’re on your feet in a moment. Astarion stands before you, wearing that all too-familiar smirk of his. You watch as his crimson eyes flicker across your body twice over, stunned into silence. Your heart is racing still, though you would wager it’s beating faster now based on how loud it was in your own ears.
“Cat got your tongue, my dear?” Astarion tilts his head to the side when he speaks. He is mocking you, of course. You were right to assume that he had grown angry with time. “I could hear you all the way inside, you know. Isn’t that just so interesting?”
Hear you? What in the Nine Hells was he going on about?
“What are you talking about?” You manage to ask, face wrinkled up in confusion. Astarion seems confused for a moment too, a distant look in his eyes that you knew meant he was trying to recall a memory. Impatient with him and his growing silence, you shift from foot to foot. Get on with it, you think.
“Hm, seems I forgot to tell you about that,” Astarion seems to say to himself. He focuses on you fully once more, waving his wrist when he next speaks. “Your heart, darling. I can hear it.”
If this information had been presented to you a year ago, you might have slapped him. But you’d become quite desensitized to weird things - especially weird things pertaining to the nature of vampires. At least this part of Astarion’s nature made sense to you, unlike his inability to cross running water. If he was meant to live off of blood, then you supposed he should be able to hear the thing at the center of every living creature that made that blood flow.
But there were countless people in the tavern. You scoff - he’s lying. He couldn’t have been able to identify your heart among the numerous others in there. He must have seen you when you slipped outside.
“Your lies flatter me, Astarion. Truly,” you state sarcastically. Once, your sarcasm might have been full of mirth and lightheartedness when it came to him. But none of that is present now. Perhaps time had made your hurt fester, too? You always were more alike Astarion than you cared to admit.
“You wound me.” Astarion presses a hand to cover his dead heart in mock hurt. But he smirks down at you still. “Don’t you think I know exactly how to flatter you?”
Astarion takes a step closer to you. You’re suddenly very aware that the wall of the tavern is pressing against you. It’s almost frightening how much he looks like a predator like this. It’s almost… exciting. Your heart races faster, and Astarion’s smirk turns into a knowing grin.
You should’ve ran a stake through his heart when you had the chance.
“I do not have time for your antics.” Your voice conveys the same authority you once used to lead a makeshift army against the Absolute. Astarion finds it funny that you think it will work on him, the person who resented authority more than anyone or anything you had ever met.
“My antics are simply me wishing to catch up with an old friend. I hadn’t realized that was a crime these days.” He takes another step forward, that knowing grin of his not disappearing.
“Oh, a friend? Is that what we were?” Somehow, the implication that you had only been a friend hurts more than any insult he could possibly hurl at you right now. Had he truly thought so little of your nights together? Of the secrets you shared, the times you let him feed from you?
“You wear your heart on your sleeve, my love. So easy to hurt it, isn’t it?” Astarion has moved so close to you now, that if he required air to breathe he’d be breathing in what you were exhaling out. You watch his eyes dance across your face, then trail down to your neck. Wordlessly, he grabs your chin and tilts your neck to the side.
Your hand is on his wrist immediately, the other one reaching for your blade strapped to your hip. You think he’s going to bite you.
“Ah, ah,” Astarion stops your hand from grabbing your weapon with a tight grip around your wrist. “I’m just looking. Always so hungry for blood, aren’t we?” You don’t like the comparison of your desire to protect yourself to his need to drink blood. You don’t comment on it though, too busy watching his eyes burning into your neck.
If he wasn’t going to bite you, then - Oh. The scars.
Two puncture wounds on the right side of your throat, scarred over from the amount of times Astarion had bitten into that exact same spot to drink from you. You feel his hand leave your chin and push your collar to the side, exposing the scars to him more. He chuckles darkly, and you use your free hand to shove him away from you.
Astarion stumbles back, a look of surprise on his face. It’s quickly replaced with anger - an emotion you had seen on his face so many times before, but never directed at you until this very moment.
“Do those make finding a little playmate difficult?” Astarion asks, eyebrows raised in mock interest. You would ask how he knew about your habits, but he did tell you once that he had a remarkable sense of smell. He could probably smell the elf you’d taken home last night on you still. You have half the mind to be embarrassed. The other half of your mind really wants to hit him.
“That’s not really your business anymore, is it?” You counter, crossing your arms over your chest. You’ve moved off of the wall now, making sure there’s empty space behind you should he try to approach you again. “But, I am glad you are still as jealous as ever.”
“Hah! Jealous!” Astarion does that fake little laugh of his. He goes so far as to bend over and then wipe a non-existence tear from his eye when he stands. “Darling, I truly could not care any less who or what you are doing in your free time. Rather - I could not care any less about you.”
It’s your turn to laugh at him. “Bold words for the man who just confessed to knowing the sound of my heart amidst all those other ones in there.”
Astarion doesn’t like this response in the slightest. You grin wickedly as he clenches his fists at his side and narrows his eyes. You two always did know how to hurt one another, didn’t you?
There is a truth to your words though. It was bold for him to claim not to care about you anymore, but to still have the sound of your heart so well memorized that he could find you in the middle of a loud, crowded tavern after months of not seeing each other. It’s almost romantic, if not a bit obsessive. Though, Astarion’s version of romance always had been a bit obsessive, hadn’t it?
“Cat got your tongue, Astarion?” You use his own words on him, tilting your head in the very same way that he had done not five minutes ago. You don’t suppress the wickedly pleased grin that spreads across your face when Astarion’s jaw clenches. Yes, you knew exactly how to hurt him.
“Very original,” he hisses. You simply shrug - as if all of this and him are not worth your time. He does not like that. Not one bit.
When you and Astarion were together, he was always very careful with you, unless you requested otherwise. You had seen that he was strong in a way that was inhuman, but had never been anywhere close to being on the receiving end of that strength. Until now.
You let out a gasp when you are pushed back against the wall of the tavern. You immediately regret it, given that it leaves you with no air in you when Astarion’s hand wraps around your neck. Not strong enough to bruise, but certainly strong enough to have you reaching for your blade. Again, he beats you there and pins your hand to the wall
“You forget yourself, little dove,” he whispers, mere inches from your face. If someone else were to slip out the back door of the tavern, they would likely think you were two lovers with no shame.
Given that you can not speak, you simply look at him. If you weren’t terrified of choking to death, you might have glared at him. Instead, you look at him with big, wide eyes. They plead for you - they show your fear. Your heart gives it away too. And the way your blood races beneath his hand. Your anatomy betrays your emotions more than you do.
But Astarion’s does, too. In his eyes, you see many things. Anger, of course, but there is also guilt, sadness, fear - hunger. His eyes go to those scars again. Your eyes go impossibly wider in understanding.
Your free hand taps at his wrist repeatedly, begging him to release you. He must see your desperation, because he relents. You would have fallen to your knees while you gasped for air if his hands did not catch you on either side of your waist.
His crimson eyes are darting over your features, watching as you catch your breath. He’s got that far-off look about him again. His hands squeeze your waist gently, as if he was making sure you were still there. You know what this means - how many times had you seen Astarion act just like this because he hadn’t fed in a few days? And given that he was still a spawn and was limited to nights hunting alone, you imagined it might get hard to find something to eat every once in a while.
“I forget myself,” you mumble when you can breathe properly again. You straighten up, expecting Astarion’s hands to remove themselves, but they do not. “Does your hunger always make you act as a feral beast?”
Astarion winces at your insult, as if you had hit him instead of just spoken. He had thought you wouldn’t notice. But those big, wet eyes of his never kept his secrets when he desired for them to be kept most.
“Perceptive as always.” His words are almost a compliment, just as his hands are almost comforting.
“You haven’t come out here to taunt me, then?” You ask, anger seeping into your tone. Did he truly think you would just give him your blood after the stunt he had just pulled? “Were you seeking a meal for the evening?”
Astarion is the one to shrug now. His hands leave your sides - you find yourself almost missing his touch. “I didn’t have a plan, darling. All I knew was that your heart was racing, and I wanted to know why.”
When he said it like that, it made it almost sound like he was worried about you and your safety.
A thick, uncomfortable silence settles over you both like a wet blanket. He’s thinking again, but this time, so are you. You’re thinking about the scars on your neck, the hunger in Astarion’s eyes. You’re thinking about how it used to be comforting to let him drink from you. You’re thinking a lot of stupid, foolish things. You’re also tugging the collar of your shirt down and tilting your head to the side.
“Be quick.” You always were too generous for your own good, weren’t you?
Astarion doesn’t seem to understand what you’re telling him to do until your index finger taps over the scars on your neck. A look of pure delight fills his face, mixing together with surprise and something like mockery.
“In public? My, you’ve gotten dirty, haven’t you?” Astarion says, placing one hand on your side again. You don’t give him the pleasure of a response when his second hand comes up to your neck and traces feather-light touches over the marks. His gaze goes soft when he speaks next, peering into your eyes as if he can see into your very soul. “You are certain?”
No, you are most definitely not certain.
“Yes,” you force out, tearing your eyes away from Astarion. “Do not be greedy.”
Astarion needs no further invitation. The hand that had been tracing your skin finds its spot on the back of your neck, holding you in place while his hand on your hip keeps you steady. The gasp that leaves your lips when his fangs puncture your skin is anything but quiet. Your hands have moved to his shoulder, gripping him so tightly that your knuckles have gone white. You’d forgotten how uncomfortable it was to have someone’s teeth in your flesh.
He drinks in slow, measured gulps. Those plush lips of his suck gently on your skin, his tongue laps up the liquid that tries to escape his mouth. There is a strange intimacy to it all that you choose to ignore. You choose especially to ignore the soft groan of pleasure that falls from his mouth when your fingers start to get cold and dig further into his shoulders. A single half-shove to his shoulders, and he pulls away, a trickle of your blood making its way down his chin.
Silence sinks into the (very limited) space between the two of you once more. Astarion wipes your blood from his chin, then shows the same courtesy to your neck before covering the puncture wounds with your collar once more. You wrinkle your nose a bit when he takes his thumb into his mouth, sucking the last taste of you from his skin - while maintaining eye contact, of course. It’s revolting - it’s erotic. You don’t let that thought linger.
“Better?” You ask, hoping that the swirl of strange emotions inside of you is masked in your voice.
Astarion smirks - your voice has betrayed you. “Oh, much. You’re too good to me.”
You swallow your spit, your throat bobbing up and down with the movement. Astarion watches it carefully with dilated pupils. He’s still holding your waist, you’re still holding his shoulders. Neither of you makes to move away from the other.
The silence seeps into your very being. It finds the deepest parts of you and closes around them like a pale hand squeezing your neck. It finds your guilt - the old guilt of giving up on the man before you all those months ago. The new guilt of betraying yourself by letting him feed from you. You hadn’t even made him ask.
“Would you like to hear a secret?” He whispers, his eyes back on your face once more.
No. “Yes.”
He smiles at your response. His hand not gripping your waist begins to trace the slopes of your face with practiced familiarity. “I’ve been coming here every night. I heard you in there a few weeks ago - I only just got the courage to step inside tonight. I was hoping to see you.”
For some reason, your mind brushes over everything else he has just confessed, instead focusing on his final sentence. I was hoping to see you. It makes your heart skip a beat like you’re some kind of lovesick schoolgirl. Astarion’s smile widens, and you curse yourself for not being able to control your racing heart. It’s humiliating to know he can hear the exact reaction your body had to every word he said.
“Why?” You ask, far softer than you wanted to.
“Oh, is it not obvious my dear? I miss you.”
You’re reminded of the time Astarion told you he loved you after only a few nights spent together. He had been trying to manipulate you then - was he doing the same to you now?
“You expect me to believe that?” This time, your voice is forceful as you intended for it to be the first time. “You do not know me if you think I am foolish enough to take you for your word.”
Astarion laughs with his whole chest. His head tilts backward for a moment, the moonlight catching in his stunning white curls for a moment and making them appear to glow. His eyes have narrowed when he looks back down at you - you’re playing his game better than he thought you would. Unfortunately for you, though, he knew exactly what he could do to make you lose.
“No. Let me show you.” Astarion waits for no response before he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours. As soon as the familiar pressure of his lips is on yours, your body tenses. You are trying to decide what you want to do. But then he presses more into you, and you melt.
You can taste your blood on his lips. There’s something else, too. Bitter, yet a bit sweet. Some kind of wine, if you had to guess. His fangs brush over your lower lip, threatening to sink into the plush flesh there. But the puncture never comes, and inside it’s his tongue intruding your mouth. You let him explore the space of your mouth, your body shivering when he trails his tongue along your lower lip.
And then he’s gone - his lips glistening with a mixture of your spit and his. You are panting a bit, bringing a hand up to touch your lips as if you can undo what you have just done. You do not even register that Astarion has finally removed himself from your body, too busy trying to make sense of why you hadn’t pushed him away.
You had come to the tavern tonight as part of your routine. To talk with old friends and new, and to not think about the very vampire who stood before you. How had you ended up kissing him and letting him feed from you? You might be sick from the deep sense of betrayal you feel inside of you. You’ve betrayed months of personal work to forget him. And for what? A single kiss and words you know are empty.
“You are perfect, every time,” Astarion remarks, his tongue darting across his lips to clean them of the wetness decorating them. He grins wickedly, then straightens his back. No, no. You know this look. He thinks he’s won.
You fell for his trap.
Again.
“Unfortunately, I do have rather important business to attend to.” He doesn’t even bother to look at you, too busy with straightening out the sleeves of his shirt. “Do keep yourself safe, darling. I would hate for something to happen to my little treat.” And then he’s gone, slipping inside of the tavern through the back door as if he hasn’t just ruined you with a single kiss.
You stand there, heart racing and eyes wide. You want to peel off your skin, to hide within your bones so that no one else could ever bother you. You are mortified. How could you be so stupid? You had known from the beginning that he was toying with you. Yet, you let him drink your blood, kiss your lips. And you would have given him more, if he wanted it.
You clear your throat - it’s your turn to straighten out your clothing now, especially your collar.
Your heart is still racing when you walk away from the tavern. All the way down the street you find yourself repeating one thing, over and over and over: “Don’t you think I know exactly how to flatter you?”
HI EVERYONE!! i just want to apologize for my sudden disappearance, especially to those who had sent requests. huge life update for you all - i just moved into my very first apartment and ALSO found out that i'm pregnant, SOOOO been just a bit busy. but, everything has settled down a bit and me and my partner are figuring things out. having said that, i am making absolutely no promises about writing consistently, but do know that i miss writing and would like to try to get at least something to you guys soon. so much love to all of you, thank you for your patience <3
I've seen a lot of fanart of Astarion dressed like this. This is from the BAFTA Games Awards 2024 event where Neil Newbon, his interpreter, wore this costume. 🖤
