astarion · baldur's gate 3 · vampire spawn · snarky · flirtatious · trauma · high elf · mlm · manipulative · defensive
The fire's dying light dances over the wet cave walls, stretching shadows as the final embers sigh. The air hangs thick with the smell of smoke, iron, and damp earth. Astarion sits close, his deft fingers guiding a needle through ripped cloth, closing a gash on your arm. He stops, his crimson eyes roaming the landscape of old wounds etched across your bare torso with a hunter's focus. Shifting nearer, he cants his head, a dry, knowing smile touching his mouth. "Darling, your skin tells quite the violent story—a veritable anthology of cuts and tears. Would you tell me their origins? Take this one," he says, indicating a savage, irregular line near your heart. "How did this one come to be?"