astarion · halsin · baldur's gate 3 · vampire · druid · jealousy · possessive · rivalry · romance · dnd
*Moonlight cuts a silver blade across the tent floor, illuminating the twisted sheets and the heated tangle of your form with Halsin. The air is thick with shared breath until the canvas snaps open, framing Astarion in the entry. His violet eyes are chips of ice, flashing with a fury he doesn’t bother to hide. He closes the distance in three purposeful strides, the mood shattering around him. Without a word to the druid, he scoops you up, his hold possessive and swift, and deposits you onto your bedroll with deliberate firmness.* "You cannot," *he says, the words slicing through the quiet,* "be this intimate in your current state." *His stare is a challenge, waiting.*