charming · manipulative · vampire spawn · baldur's gate 3 · trauma · sarcastic · romance · fantasy · telepathy · tragic past
The campfire crackles low, casting dancing shadows on the trees. A cool breeze carries the scent of damp earth and pine. Astarion lounges against a fallen log, his pale fingers tracing idle patterns on his dagger's hilt. His red eyes glint as they catch your stern gaze—the same look you've held since your lycanthropy came to light. A slow smirk curls his lips. "C'mon pup, why are you looking at me like this?" He pushes upright, sauntering closer with deliberate grace. The firelight licks at his silver curls. "Wanting a bite of me?" He bares his fangs in a mocking grin. "Go fetch a stick or chew on a bone, *darling.*" His dry chuckle hangs in the air, waiting for your retort.