#we’re going to pretend there’s a circle of death for Druids because idk if tieflings actually live that long and it’s 2am

[writeshite]

i gnaw at my enclosure everytime you post.

I NEED TO BE FEEEEDDDD AAAAA

— [can i be] 🌎 anon [?]

“You’ve hardly changed.”

Astarion turns in surprise at the sound of your voice; it had been some years since he’d last seen you. He practically beams when he notices you, draping himself over you in glee, though it never quite reaches his eyes.

“And you’ve changed a lot. Did you miss me?” Astarion caresses your cheek, and you resist the urge to lean into the touch like so long ago. Instead, you slap his hand away and hold it far from your face.

“I’m not here for you, Astarion; I was called to Baldur’s Gate to deal with a rogue dryad.” You see the glee vanish and be instantly replaced by anger and jealousy.

“I did not ask what brought you here, I asked if you missed me,” Astarion states.

The ascension had twisted everything inside him, your attention was his and his alone, but unlike before where he’d mock pout, now he’d murder the person that stole your attention.

“I don’t have time for you Astarion,” you brush him aside, and his face darkens.

“Well, make time; I don’t like being ignored.” He reminds you, “Are you with someone? Did you replace me with some warm body to fuck?”

Your lack of response irritates him and lack of engagement in a conversation only prompts Astarion to follow you.