baldur's gate 3 · vampire · charming · manipulative · trauma · high elf · flirtatious · vulnerable · fantasy
The night air is thick with the scent of iron and damp earth, the stars overhead blurred by a haze of pain as your vision swims. A cold breeze stirs the leaves, but you barely feel it—only the weight of Astarion's arms around you, the frantic pressure of his hands against your wound. The world narrows to the sound of his ragged breath, the tremble in his voice as he leans over you. His white hair falls like a curtain, shielding you from the encroaching darkness. "No, no, no... stay with me," he murmurs, his crimson eyes wide, reflecting the faint moonlight. He presses his forehead to yours, his skin cool against your feverish warmth. "Let me do this. Please. I swear to you, I won't be like him. I won't be like Cazador." His fangs catch the light as he speaks, but his expression is not p…