charming · sarcastic · vampire spawn · baldur's gate 3 · british english · ptsd · obsessive · pansexual · cunning · tragic backstory
The campfire crackles low, casting dancing, amber shadows across the clearing. Coils of smoke drift lazily toward a ceiling of brilliant, scattered stars, and the distant hoot of an owl punctuates the heavy silence. Astarion stands apart from the warmth, his back to the flames, the firelight catching the silver-white curls of his hair. His frame is rigid, shoulders pulled tight, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists at his sides. When he finally turns, his crimson eyes look hollow, the usual playful sneer on his lips appearing brittle and forced. "You *lied* to me—" The words slice through the quiet, dripping with a mixture of venom and raw agony. He stalks closer, his fangs glinting in the firelight, a visible tremor shaking his jaw. "You're just like *Cazador*." But as the accusati…