jacey-spacey

[jacey-spacey]

Astarion Rewritten Outlaws Au Lore Dump

(gonna give a little content warning before you start reading because this does go over some heavy topics. Basically Cazador coded abuse, heavy manipulation, canon-typical trauma, process of inflicting scarring, character death... If that’s not something you wanna read I’d stop here and scroll.)

HERE WE GO.

Backstory⬇️

Astarion has no papers—no birth certificate, no record of citizenship, nothing. That wasn’t always the case. But after Cazador pulled him out of prison with a forged pardon, he ensured every trace of Astarion’s true identity was erased. With his wealth and connections, it was easy for Cazador to bribe officials and have the original records destroyed. Astarion became a ghost in the system—a body without a name, as if he had never existed at all. Astarion having no proof of citizenship means he can’t appeal to the law. He’s not a person in the eyes of the state—he’s property of Cazadors.

Cazador saw potential in him right from the start, because Astarion was beautiful. Striking. The perfect doll for his high-end parlor house. All Astarion had to do was endure what came next. A test. Proof that he was worthy of serving Cazador, that he could properly atone for his supposed crimes. After all, Cazador had bailed him out, hadn’t he? Spent a small fortune, pulled strings, gone through great effort just to see him freed. He had saved Astarion from the miserable life he’d known before—given him a new purpose, a place, a reason to be wanted.

And so, Cazador marked him. A ritual of scarification, done with meticulous care and deliberate precision. His initials “CS” etched into the skin of Astarions back.

When it was over, Cazador tended to him with soft hands and quiet praise, barely heard over Astarions sobs.

In his eyes, Astarion had passed.

The Parlor House was a gilded cage, draped in silks and perfumed with expensive scents to mask the stench of sweat and desperation. A place where men and women of status indulged in pleasures with no consequence, where Cazador’s spawn were paraded before them like prized animals. The moment Astarion was brought upstairs, cleaned and dressed in whatever finery Cazador saw fit, his life was no longer his own.

But Cazador’s empire was built on more than just flesh. His influence spread far beyond the parlors walls, weaving into the underbelly of the city. Hidden among the pleasures the spawn were forced to provide was another service: ensuring Cazador’s clients got hooked on more than just their bodies. The spawn were tasked with discreetly dealing with his supply, slipping small doses of a potent, addictive substance onto eager tongues, ensuring that patrons return.

Every time Astarion tries to imagine a life outside the parlor, he remembers: no name, no coin, and nowhere to go. And worse—if he runs, there’s a bounty waiting to be reinstated, and a dozen corrupt lawmen ready to drag him back… or bury him in the desert. But then again, prison treated him better than here. Alas even if he wanted to, there were always guards posted at the doors, watching.

Sebastian—young, kind, and foolish—had offered to help. He was a regular at the parlor house, one of the few who saw past the makeup and charm to the hollow ache beneath. He promised Astarion money, a train ticket, a way out. Safety. And asked for nothing in return.

Cazador found out.

Sebastian disappeared not long after, and no one asked questions. But Astarion knew. He knew because Cazador put the gun in his hand, pressed a finger over his own, and pulled the trigger.

“You belong to me, boy.”

Astarion wished that was the end of it. But it wasn’t. That same night, Astarion was dragged from his room and taken to the outskirts of the city. Cazador didn’t scream. He didn’t strike. He just watched as his men forced Astarion into a narrow wooden box and shut the lid. They buried him 6 feet, leaving only a narrow pipe for air.

He stayed underground for two full days.

By the time they dug him up, Astarion was barely conscious—starving, dehydrated, broken. From that day forward, he never dared speak of escape again.

Cazador made sure of it.

He had Astarion’s entire back redone, claiming the scars had healed too cleanly, too neatly. Adding additional lines to his artwork, a punishment for Astarions misbehavior. This time, he packed the fresh wounds with ash, ensuring the marks would stay—sharp, raised lines etched into his skin, permanent. And, as always, he was tender afterward, sitting beside him with a damp cloth and that infuriatingly soft voice.

“If only you’d stop acting out,” he murmured, gently dabbing at the angry red flesh. “We could be so happy. A real family. Don’t you want that, my boy? To be treated well? You’re the one making this so difficult. You bring these punishments on yourself. I only ever do what’s necessary.”

The scars stayed, just like he wanted—crisp, deliberate lines that pulled taut when Astarion moved or stretched.

Years later.

Business had been slow at the parlor, which meant the favored spawn were allowed outside for a bit-to lure in the rich types passing by. Of course, they were never alone. There was always an assigned escort hanging back, watching from the shadows, making sure no one tried anything stupid like running.

Astarion had been playing by the rules for a while, his back nearly healed from Cazadors last punishment. So he’d been rewarded with a little taste of freedom more or less. He was out there, mid-conversation with some pompous noble- laying on the charm, smiling enough to draw them in- when suddenly all hell broke loose. Screaming, people running, complete chaos.

And Astarion? He didn’t think twice. He bolted. Took his shot in the midst of everything, if he got out of the escorts line of sight and vanish in the crowd, he could finally be free-

One moment, he’s sprinting for his life- the next, everything went black.

(I will be nice to Astarion from now on.)

^^^

(Me when I lie)

[jacey-spacey]

My new discord pfp aaaaaaa

In all pink because he deserves it <3

[jacey-spacey]

You every write a Jonposting mini essay in a Pinterest comment section at 12 am?

[jacey-spacey]

Quick portrait of the star guy. Might do touch ups later.

Video under cut.

[jacey-spacey]

look at my low-effort high-passion meme (etc) redraws

[jacey-spacey]

Sorry, but this whole thing about the dice roll to convince Astarion not to ascend—let’s break it down.

The dice roll exists because Astarion is intoxicated—by blood, by fear, by power. Power is the only thing he thinks can set him free, but only because his perspective is painfully limited. The Insight check isn’t there by accident; it’s meant to give the player context. Astarion isn’t thinking clearly—not enough to truly reason.

Do you know what real fear does? It shuts down higher cognitive processes. The sympathetic nervous system takes over, triggering fight, flight, freeze, or fawn responses. Blood rushes to the muscles, the heart, the lungs, preparing the body to react quickly in case of danger. But at the same time, other functions that aren’t immediately useful—like digestion, excretory system, sexual function, and, yes, logical reasoning—get suppressed. It’s a matter of priorities—survival over everything else.

For example, studies show that reprimanding a child too harshly—scaring them—actually inhibits learning, making it completely counterproductive.

And in that moment, Astarion is like someone standing on the edge of a rooftop, ready to jump—not because he wants to die, but because he sees no other way out of his pain. And Tav/Durge is the damn firefighter or cop trying to talk him down before he hits the pavement.

And honestly—who here hasn’t had a conversation with a parent, a friend, or a teacher, only to later think, Shit, they were right, I was about to do something really stupid?

It’s not coercion, people. It’s just pointing things out. And the dice roll is there to break through all the things clouding Astarion’s mind—blood, fear, and everything in between. Not to convince him.

At this point in the adventure, Astarion is perfectly capable of making his own choices, and if he's deprived of that choice, he gets so furious that he attacks the player. In fact, if you categorically decide for him—either by refusing to help him or by interrupting the ritual—things end badly. He is the one who has to decide what to do, not the player.

It's no coincidence that Astarion gives his approval at the moment he realizes what it truly means to ascend and abandons the ritual. There's no lie there; we don't forget that approval. Just as it's no accident that, in the cemetery scene, Astarion says he feels seen by the player. Because yes—beyond the illusory veil of a sexy, evil vampire, we've seen through it and witnessed something else. We've seen the goodness within him.

Please, let's stop saying that Astarion wants to ascend at all costs and that he's forced not to do it. Otherwise, the reading of the game's and the character's subtext is completely lost. And note that this doesn't mean he doesn't also have the potential for evil.

It's exactly these internal contradictions—this constant oscillation between good and evil—that make him such a deep, well-rounded, and wonderful character. Please, let's not simplify him; that would be a crime.

[jacey-spacey]

Sometimes you forget how disabled you are until you're at a crowded party. I had legitimately forgotten how LOUD ppl are omg

[jacey-spacey]

When is someone gonna match my freak (reciprocate the effort and love I put into our relationship)?

[jacey-spacey]

I don’t usually draw things that aren’t people, but I had A Vision.

Bonus colored lines sketch

[jacey-spacey]

The Road to Understanding Part 1 | 2 | ?

Oh, to see traits and habits of the self in another. How infuriating that must be, especially when they feel twisted and strange.

Yet another step on the enemies-to-lovers path!

(This took so much longer to complete than I expected, but I'm really proud of it! Yay yay yippee!)

[jacey-spacey]

I know Astarion is meant to be cat-coded and I completely agree. But consider; Astarion is marked as a 'sacrificial lamb' in the Cazador battle. He was literally created to be sacrificed. It is also said that he is Cazador's favourite to torture. Now look at this mans hair because I think this was very intentional:

Astarion's hair is white and VERY curly. Resembling a lamb's fur. Not something you'd expect when you think "high elf". I think he is meant to resemble a sheep in alot of ways :3

[jacey-spacey]

"doesn't this charater under insane stress going through extremely traumatic events realize how inconvenient their irrational emotional reactions are to the people around them?" well, see, you're not gonna believe this, but the thing is,

[jacey-spacey]

I draw this while listening to Ziggy Stardust

[jacey-spacey]

Astarion x Half Orc tav/durge is so cute!!!!! When they kiss their teeth complete each other

[jacey-spacey]

is there a story behind the cartilage piercing in your right ear (shown on the front page of your website)? just curious tbh, it's kind of a nonstandard location for someone's only piercing to be since the healing process can be so finicky

Personal facts with Alex! I used to a cartilage piercing and two other piercings in the same ear. I also used to have blue hair. I also used to wear a my chemical romance jacket despite never having heard of them because I just thought it looked neat. I also used to exclusively wear superhero T-shirts and big boots. You can tell in photos the exact moment I entered the UK job market and locked the mask on so that people would hire me and/or take RQ seriously as a business. I won't lie, I miss it but that seemed to be the price to get stuff done. It's so ironic to me though that my personal brand has now become: "The most vanilla looking MF on the planet" and if I tried to unmask everyone would be like "ew cringe" etc. Just remember, when you hear me as a chaos goblin on a podcast, that is me trying to be normal.

[jacey-spacey]

Figuring out how to draw our husband (and how to draw in general).

↓ Bonus version ↓

[jacey-spacey]

Modding Pink Pony Club into the Sims so Astarion can break it down like he was born to.