he1chouarts

[he1chouarts]

This...hit me really hard for some reason. It still is. The amazement and sadness in his voice is just heart-wrenching. This TikTokker did an incredible job putting this video together. I know Astarion's not real, but...I feel for him.

[he1chouarts]

Need him to stop being so cute for like 5 secs

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[he1chouarts]

My second playthrough is great, I’m finally reliving those early experiences and paying closer attention. I’m obsessed with Rolan lmfao

[he1chouarts]

mods, amirite?

why are they standing like bowling pins lmfao

[he1chouarts]

"Oh, you thought you could sneak up on me like that? On your knees, darling..."

Uncensored on Twitter 😇

Opening commissions soon for solo Astarion renders ✨

[he1chouarts]

will give you anything to draw Rolan

ill do it for free

[he1chouarts]

Veryn is a softie, he allows Astarion to overindulge too often…and it doesn’t help that he finds it so adorable when Astarion gets a little drunk on the drinky drink, when he collapses back with a crooked, fanged smile and an exhale, his eyes dreamy, far off. Veryn, drained and tired, tries to tell him that he’s got blood on his lip, it’s about to drip from his chin to his crisp white shirt, but Astarion is too happy, just kinda softly babbling about how good he feels. Veryn leans in with a drowsy grin, lifting a suddenly very heavy hand to wipe the errant trickle of blood away before there’s a stain to deal with, all while Astarion comments something about him being too delicious for his own good.

[he1chouarts]

Veryn will put himself in harm’s way if there’s even the slightest whiff of benefit on the other side. He’ll take a gamble without a hint of concern that he may lose or end up worse for wear. It works out over and over again for the team, which is honestly not the greatest. He only becomes more and more emboldened to do risky things as the camp defers to him. At first Astarion thought he was such a fool, and he was all in for letting the plucky little klepto take the beatings for the lot of them.

Loviatar’s blessing, sure. That worked out. Volo’s eye…hm, ugly bit of suffering, that. But it wasn’t enough to deter him. Eventually, Astarion can’t take much more, starts to voice his concerns, despite himself. Avoided explosive blood. Did not escape the less than desirable machinations of an incubus, though…

Yes, Veryn is bold and frustratingly brave. Stupid, even, if it weren’t for the fact that he’s proven quite clever and careful not to put others in harm’s way.

Or perhaps he has a death wish, Astarion worries.

[he1chouarts]

I keep thinking about Veryn occasionally asking Astarion to stay with him when he sleeps for a while (since he’s only half elf) because he likes the company and craves the body contact. He might’ve thought it was a little silly to ask the first time, assured Astarion that it could be brief enough and he was welcome to return to his bedroll whenever he was ready, but Astarion obliged and eventually he does come to enjoy it.

And after a while, Astarion begins to ponder the whole nature of sleeping—which he doesn’t need to do—and even dreaming, which he hasn’t really properly done, either. Not since he was mortal, and even then it’s not as if he has any human influence in his lineage. What is it like for a human to dream, to slumber so soundly for so long? Veryn doesn’t need to sleep quite so much as a human, and yet still he spends hours of his day so vulnerable by necessity. In the world Astarion came from, such a thing seems unthinkable. Unbearable. Like a death sentence, actually. How lucky they are to have stumbled upon one another, then, so Astarion can hold this vigil sacrosanct.

It starts to really bother him, thinking about Veryn asleep all alone night after night, so perilously ripe for a plunging blade or well trained arrow. Lost to a dream and blissfully unaware of such jeopardy, how strange, indeed.

Astarion finds himself watching Veryn as he rests, holding him fast, wondering what those dreams are like. Hoping with each soft exhale or flutter of lashes that he’s somewhere in there, too.

[he1chouarts]

"Are you ok?" I'm actually tired bro. From the bottom of my heart I'm tired

[he1chouarts]

Don't give me that look

[he1chouarts]

redrawing the first Astarion I ever drew

[he1chouarts]

Today I have this urge to sit down and write. To just hammer out all my feelings in words and purge and cry and be angry and process. Today I need space to feel. I want to be able to.

And instead, I’m sitting in a cubicle at work. Wasting away in silent agony. Pretending to be fine, and failing. Be kind to yourself today, they keep saying, it’s going to be okay, are the promises that couldn’t possibly ring on more deaf ears than my own. How can we be kind to ourselves, how can we do what our mental health needs, what our very souls are crying out to do, when rampant, unfettered capitalism demands the constant sacrifice of that very thing? How do I continue to live this repulsive lie when reality is a supermassive black hole following my every movement about the office, to the bathroom, on the train?

How do you look people in their eyes anymore…

I see only drones and potential enemies. In the mirror, too.

[he1chouarts]

Stockpile HRT now.

[he1chouarts]

Anytime with him in that forest...

[he1chouarts]

the only thing my cisgender husband could say to me this morning was “it’ll be alright.”

he doesn’t know what else to say.