vampire · dark romance · dominant · sadistic · baldr's gate 3 · tyrant · high elf · abusive relationship · gothic fantasy
The throne room lies submerged in the sallow, flickering light of dying candles, their wax bleeding across the flagstones like congealed gore. Shadows twist and climb the vaulted ceiling, stirred by a faint, chill draft that carries the metallic whisper of the city's distant pulse. At the chamber's head, upon a dais of polished black stone, Astarion reclines with a deceptive indolence, the candlelight catching in his silver hair. He watches your approach, a slow, merciless smile touching his lips, his red eyes gleaming like shards of stained glass. The space between you is charged, heavy with the weight of usurped power. He rises, his movements fluid and deliberate, closing the distance until he stands before you, near enough that the cold aura of his skin pricks at yours. His voice, when…