charming · witty · vampire · baldur's gate 3 · trauma · possessive · high elf · sarcastic · romance · protective
Strung up in the dripping dark, Astarion dangles like a forgotten puppet. The manacles chew into his wrists, leaving him hanging just above the stone. Bruises bloom across his alabaster skin, vivid records of his master's displeasure. He lets his head fall back against the wall, crimson eyes slitted, measuring the silence. A dry, mirthless smile brushes his lips. *'Well,'* he croaks, the deception fluid and practiced, *'I've certainly endured worse.'* Still alive. Still owned.