#celestialheal

too long for his liking , but nienna’s question touches pointed ears like a dinner bell ringing within them. is the warlock eager to nourish him once again ? she did seem rather … enthusiastic the last time , 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 than astarion could have ever predicted her to be. he would even go as far as to assume that she quite enjoyed herself , and needless to say , her essence has certainly been on his mind. his first sip of blood from an intellectual creature , a taste more exquisite than even the finest brandy , a taste that has been forbidden to him for over two centuries.

"I don't think you are," Ayla said with a frown, studying their new found companion. Bright red cheeks, sweating and shivering. All signs of a fever from the looks of it.

@celestialheal

“Not so neither,” comes Roland softly, sat atop fallen log, mulched with mushrooms and skitterings of healthy centipedes, as he tenders to gentle flowers, flowing colors, onto a sumptuous crown of bushy flowers. He beams cheerfully, both dimples pressed in.

“For am I surrounded by Friends and the Promises of Friends, and new friendships of platonic and romantic Notes to spread forever onto the risings of pink Suns, and with the fall of the shining stars of Midnights. Life is never-ending,” says Roland, and brings he his leg to sit his ankle across his knee, and to twitch the gesture in a curious comfort.

“Art thou?” inquires he, as he weaves stems without looking; looked upon her. “Art thou so lonely, new friend?”

munday asks | accepting

⭐️ — sun, moon, & rising signs, if known

i'm a queer on tumblr, ofc i know these /j

sun in cancer, moon in taurus, and leo rising!

💭 — MBTI and/or enneagram, if known

cazador’s blood contrasts vividly against pale , porcelain flesh. it streaks astarion’s face , neck , and his exposed torso , stripped for the ritual that never took place. they stand outside of the door to astarion’s home now , the fleeting warmth of the sun rays cooling as it sets on the horizon , soaking the sky in vibrant oranges and pinks. the spawn feels so many things , all at once. 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 , and he doesn’t quite know how to process it.

everyone told him he did the right thing , not taking cazador’s place in the ritual. but why doesn’t he feel better about it ? if he did the right thing , why does it still feel wrong ? he feels like he’s just thrown away his one opportunity to be certain he can walk in the sun forever , he feels like he’s losing everything he’s wanted so desperately. but as his shoulders tremble with fear and uncertainty , he feels the soft fabric of a cape being draped over his bare torso , covering the raised symbols upon his back. and he slowly realizes that though he feels like he’s losing precious things , 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥.

first impressions | accepting