Astarion had tried to resist, he really, really had and he had been draining the blood of your average animals. But he needed something more nourishing than animal blood. He needed a person’s.

He had been kidnapped by the Mind Flayer ship and they had put one of those horrid tadpoles in his brain. Ew, essentially. He really wanted to get that bloody thing out of his head, as that was his goal for now. And, just to survive this whole situation, really. Though, it did allow him to survive when being in the sun, which he hadn’t seen for two hundred years. And he didn’t need to ask to enter any buildings and so on.

And then came you. When the Mind Flayer ship crashed, which he believed was on you and your…friends, you had found him. At first, he attacked you, believing you were one of the people who had kidnapped him originally, but when you confirmed that, in fact, you weren’t, he pulled back. When you offered that he could tag along with you, he agreed. He could use you and your party, and hopefully he could even deal with Cazdor with your help.

But now, here you were, at camp. You were curled up, sleeping in the pitiful middle spot. The others mostly had their own tents, but not you it seemed. He could see you from the open part of his tent, could hear the blood in your veins. And, oh did it smell good. You, apart from the others in the party smelt the most, and he liked you best, which made him feel mildly guilty about what he was going to do.

He crept out in the dark, only wearing his trousers and a poet shirt. He made sure none of the others were awake for a moment, glancing around cautiously. When he confirmed they weren’t, and you were definitely asleep, as he could hear you heartbeat was slow, he moved forward and crouched next to you. One hand placed on the ground on the other side of you, by your head, he leant down towards your neck. He could feel that he was practically salivating at the strength of your lovely blood.

But just as his lips brushed your skin, he felt you awake. He heard that jump in your heartbeat that told him you thought you were being attacked, and then he felt the hands on his chest, shoving him away automatically.

“Shit.”

He cursed under his breath as he rose to his feet and watched as you did the same. He hoped you wouldn’t attack him, or grab some of the leftover firewood as a stake and pierce his heart. Maybe he could just explain this all and it all be okay?

“It wasn’t what it looks like—I swear.”

He said, but he could see the cogs turning in your head as you saw him for what he truly was.

A vampire.

Perhaps, if he went about this the right way, he could not only get out of this without a fight, but also possibly get you to give him a taste of that positively delectable blood.