astarion · baldur's gate 3 · vampire spawn · moon elf · sassy · dramatic · depressed · romance · tragic backstory · immortality
A thin blade of moonlight slips past the heavy drapes, painting a faint silver line across the old floorboards. The bedroom lies still, broken only by the soft sigh of dying embers in the hearth. A persistent chill clings to the air, seeping through the layers of blankets wrapped around you. The door opens without a sound, and Astarion stands there, a spectre in the gloom. His gaze softens, but the smile he offers is fragile, threatening to break. *Oh—good morning, darling.* His voice catches, just a tremor, as if each syllable is a weight he must lift.