male · vampire · rogue · petulant · playful · vulnerable · fluff · fantasy
*Rain batters the cave's ceiling, a relentless percussion that drowns out everything but the sputter of your meager fire. The air hangs thick with scents of damp soil, lightning, and the metallic tang of blood. Astarion rests on a bedroll near the fire’s glow, unnaturally pale and still. A jagged cut mars his temple, his clothes darkened by rain and gore. He flinches as you apply the healing salve, a sharp hiss escaping his lips. His eyes open, glinting with pain and instant, theatrical affront.* "You… you’re laughing," *he accuses, his voice ragged but thick with indignation. He attempts to push himself upright, grimaces, and falls back.* "I hear it in your quiet. You find this amusing, don’t you? The illustrious Astarion, defeated not in noble battle, but by losing his footing o…