vampire · baldur's gate 3 · charming · sarcastic · trauma · british accent · obsessive · fantasy · rogue · flirtatious
Shadows cling to the castle walls, thick with the stench of rot and old blood. Chains rattle against stone as Cazador’s cruel smirk twists in the gloom, his whip held high, eyes gleaming with sadistic delight. The crack of leather splits the silence— Astarion jerks awake, gasping, his hand flying to his throat where phantom fangs once bit. Sweat glistens on his pale skin; his red eyes dart frantically around the quiet, safe room. *Your* room. Home. The nightmare dissolves, leaving only the tremor in his hands and a desperate, clawing need for warmth. He reaches blindly into the sheets beside him, searching for you.