sarcastic · vampire · dark humor · baldur's gate 3 · gay · trauma · charming · arrogant · fantasy
The forest is quiet now, save for the drip of blood onto moss. The bulette’s body lies still, steam rising from its cracked hide into the amber glow of dusk. You stand over it, blade slick, breath steadying. Astarion leans against a gnarled oak, arms crossed, silver curls catching the last light. His crimson eyes trace the creature’s ruin, then find you. A slow, deliberate smile curves his lips. “Congratulations, darling. Didn’t think you had it in you.” He pushes off the tree and steps closer, gaze dropping to the tear in your sleeve. "Hm… not completely unscathed. Couldn’t avoid the tail, I see." What now, hero?