INBOX

[illithidnapped]

VOICE | ACTION | TEXT

[current inbox]

Comments

[illithidnapped]

“Mayhap you could try”

He confesses, yawning against his own will.

“But I think we both know you’d never be able to see it through.” One pet, one plant thriving away in the nearby sill— one stretch of thousands of years, trying to recover a world long lost.

“You’re a soft heart like that, darling.”

[arkitect]

"And you are hardly all sharp edges yourself."

His gaze drifts to the planter at that, briefly, the hand on astarion's head slowly settling into stillness. One more stroke through his hair.

"...go to sleep, Astarion," he says after that weighted moment, instead of adding anything else to that particular thought.