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baldurs-simp · 6 months

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Un-Holy (Astarion x Aasimar!Reader)

Summary: Your heritage comes out in the midst of a battle, leaving you to confess your past to Astarion, whom you have developed a strong relationship with.

Warnings: strong language, mild spoilers, aasimar!reader, fluff, written at the spur of the moment while slightly tired, a bunch of rambling in the beginning but shit goes down later on

MY MASTERLIST

You have gone years without a fight until you woke up on the Mind Flayer ship with a tadpole behind your eye. Now, you cannot go a day without fighting for your survival after the ship crashed somewhere near Baldur’s Gate. You are not alone in the fight, however, having met some companions along the way who all share the same affliction you do; the threat of becoming a Mind Flayer.

The first you met was a Gith, Lae’zel, on the ship before it fell, then a Cleric of Shar, Shadowheart. The two don’t see eye to eye, but they keep the peace well enough to not cause a fight within the camp at night. Then you meet the rogue, Astarion, whom you later find out is a vampire after he tried to drink your blood in your sleep. How he’s able to walk in the sun without burning to a crisp is a mystery to everyone, but you think you could be because of the tadpole lurking around in his head. Or perhaps it is the work of the Guardian that visits you in your dreams.

Then you met the wizard from Waterdeep stuck in his portal, Gale. He has his issues. An orb sits in his chest, waiting to explode if it is not sated with magical-infused objects. You normally allow him to consume items that would otherwise be of no use to you. Items that grant you spells that you can already cast. Items useless to you, but not to Gale.

Wyll you had met after defeating a group of goblins that tried to enter the Emerald grove. Meeting him spurred your quest to help the Tieflings being kicked out by the druids. You plan on clearing the way for them, getting rid of goblins that might attack them west of the Blighted Village. Wyll had his quest to hunt down a devil, whom you found, Karlach.

Karlach is nothing like what Wyll had described and they finally came to a consensus to not kill each other. The tiefling that fought in the Blood Wars was only enlisted against her will. And she now joins your party in search of a cure for the Mind Flayer tadpoles.

You feel as if you know everyone in your party, and know somewhat about their past from what they shared with you after bunking down for nights while on the road. Yet, they don’t know a thing about your past. They don’t know who you truly are, or what you really are. But sometimes you think it’s for the better.

Battling the Hobgoblin leader, Dror Ragzlin proves to be a difficult fight. With the majority of your companions looking rough and the fight still raging on, you can’t help the necrotic energy bubbling up inside of you. You have to let it out.

Planting your feet firmly into the ground beneath you, you let out a fierce cry as ghostly skeletal wings sprout out from your back. A necrotic shroud falls over you, turning foes close to you around in fear. Your eyes turn into black pools as your gaze falls on Ragzlin, letting him know that he is your target.

The fight is quickly won after that and you drop your celestial facade, helping up Gale and healing him of his wounds. “Well, I didn’t know we had an Aasimar in our party,” Shadowheart mentions, causing you to turn your head towards her and see that everyone else stands behind her, staring at you in awe and curiosity.

“Let’s just find Halsin and get out of here,” you quickly say, walking past them without so much as making eye contact with them.

“Woah, woah, we’re not gonna talk about how fucking cool that was?” Karlach mentions as the party follows you, stepping over goblin corpses as you briskly walk toward the exit.

“There’s nothing to talk about so let’s not mention it. This is just something I can do just as you can go into a rage,” you say over your shoulder, pushing the heavy oak door open, shoving the piercing gazes you feel on your back from your companions. You sigh, knowing that they will pester you if you don’t tell them what they want to hear. “Look, it's a long story, okay. I come from a celestial background. It’s no different than Lae’zel coming from a Githyanki background. We all come from somewhere and none of us has pestered anyone about it, so why should it be different with me?” you question, turning around to face them. So, can we please leave it at that, find the druid, and get out of this place?”

From the tone of your voice, they can tell that your heritage is a sensitive topic. And they know you’re right. Everyone has their past and they are free to disclose as much as they want. It prevents tension from rising in camp. So, they suck it up, leaving your story to their imagination. Until you’re comfortable telling them.

Astarion, on the other hand, is not one to let things go. He thinks that he deserves to hear your story after he told you what happened to him and how he became a vampire spawn. Not to mention that you and him have become somewhat close. After all, you do allow him to feed off of you at night when he needs to. That creates quite a bond if he must say so himself.

As night draws near, everyone tends to themself to rest after a long day of slaying foes in the desecrated temple of Selune. You keep to yourself, not wanting to be involved in conversation as you fear that someone will bring up what happened to you in the fight. It’s a conversation you don’t wish to have.

You sit by the edge of the lake, looking up at the stars, lost in thought and memory. You don’t even hear the footsteps approaching you from behind as you stare at the twinkling lights illuminating the sky.

“There you are,” Astarion’s voice calls, pulling you out of your thoughts and back down to earth as he sits beside you on the ground. “I had thought that perhaps you had flown off.”

It was meant to be a joke and you know that. But it does not make you laugh or smile. Instead, you sigh heavily and glance down at your feet. “If only. Unfortunately, my wings are incapable of flight,” you state, looking back up at the water lapping at the shore. “They never used to be, you know. Gods, I used to be so fast, flying between clouds like a blur. Now, I can remember what it’s like,” you say, smiling to yourself as you recall a memory of being in the sky.

Astarion has his eyes fixed on your face, taking in your smile, something that rarely comes across your face since he’s met you. “What happened?” he asks, tentatively and in a whisper.

“I fell in love with someone I wasn’t supposed to,” you say, shaking your head in shame. “I fell in love with a devil. He was charming and cunning and I was cast out from my people because of it only to find out that he was toying with me because he wanted to see me stripped of my radiant power. He wanted to see me fall,” you explain, turning to meet Astarion’s gaze finally. “There is no pride in being a Fallen. Only shame.”

He understands now. If anyone, he knows all about shame and it explains more than you know to him why you never told anyone what you are. He wants to reach out and touch you, lay a hand on your wrist as a way to tell you that you are not alone in this. But he doesn’t know if you will allow him to touch you. He knows that if the roles were switched and he told you in extensive detail what Cazador had done to him, he might not know what to do with a friendly touch.

“I wandered around on my own, living off the land, too ashamed to show my face to others, fearing that they would know what I had done and how far I had fallen from grace,” you say, looking back out to the lake. “I was on my own for so long, until I was taken by those Mind Flayers. It seems fitting now, being a Fallen Aasimar with a tadpole behind my eye.”

“You are not alone in this, you know,” he simply says, leaning slightly forward so that he can hold your gaze. “No matter how far you have fallen from grace, you are not alone, little angel.”

You chuckle at his words, your shoulders relaxing as you shift in your seated position. “I’m glad to have met you, Astarion. I only wish that we had met sooner,” you say, smiling sweetly at him as you cross your legs under you. “Perhaps things would have been better.”

Astarion laughs, throwing his head back slightly as he follows your gaze out to the water. “I do not think you would have liked me all that much. I would most likely have led you like a lamb to the slaughter for Cazador to feast on. And he would have reveled in the taste of your blood,” he says, a low growl in his voice at the mention of your blood.

You two had talked about what the others might taste like to him, talking - theoretically - how different people’s blood would taste like. You’re sure that yours must taste different than those he had bitten in battle for a bit of extra strength.

“And I would have tried to kill you if you did,” you tease him, looking at him, your eyes meeting his and you two stare into each other’s eyes.

“May I see them?” he asks, his eyes shifting to your back.

You know he means to see your wings, even in their dismal state. You feel comfortable showing them to him just as he had felt comfortable telling you that he is a vampire. Giving a small nod, you close your eyes to focus on conjuring your spectral wings, revealing their skeletal form with minimal feathers covering parts of them, some looking as though they are ready to fall off.

His mouth falls slightly open as he stares at them, shifting himself on the sand of the shore so that he can kneel behind you. You can almost feel his breath on your next as he shifts closer, his fingers reaching out to touch the exposed bone.

A breath catches in your throat, your head perking up as a shiver runs through your spine, making your wings slightly perk up. Your heart skips a beat, something you’re sure Astarion can hear, and you turn your head slightly over your shoulder to look at him.

You don’t have the heart to tell him that his actions are considered something intimate between your people. Taking another’s wings is something only lovers do. You’ve never had anyone touch them, even when they are in their original, glorious form.

You close your eyes at the sensation, taking in it because you are not sure when you will experience it again. When you feel Astarion moving away, you look at him again and smile. “Thank you. For letting me myself around you,” you whisper, standing up off the ground and dusting off the sand from your hands and legs.

“No. I think I should be the one thanking you for trusting me,” he speaks, standing up with you as he gazes at your features illuminated in the moonlight. Gods, he wishes he could see you in your full glory. He knows you’re still holding back what you could be. Still, he thinks it could be absolutely glorious to see you as the angel you truly are.

You bid him good night and walk to return to your tent. As you leave him, he casts his eyes to the ground to spot a black feather that has fallen from your wings. He bends down to pick it up, twirling it in his finger as she smiles to himself.

He’s going to keep this feather so he remembers this moment forever.

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fourraccoonsinacoat · 6 months

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The beautiful subtleties of the Astarion scar scene, and why this is that headcannon scene where Tavurge draws Astarion.

***Trigger Warning for discussions of body autonomy and sexual trauma.

And we're back for yet another midnight dissertation where I over analyze the F out of a video game character romance, because I can't stop thinking about how amazing the storytelling is. I need help.

So we all love that Astarion romance headcannon where Tavurge draws/paints/does-something-to-show-Astarion-his-face. It's a beautiful headcannon and I adore it. But, allow me to convince you that Larian did, in fact, give us this scene. And it's the scene where Tavurge draws Astarion's scars.

Jump in the car, here we go:

The song playing in the background of this scene is "I Want to Live." I think that's a very deliberate choice, as that song is very tied to Astarion. So much so, that you can stand on a rock behind his tent and suddenly the full song starts to play, lyrics included. Music reminding us of the one thing Astarion wants more than anything else?

Astarion wants the freedom to live a life he chooses, he wants his choices to matter. He's been living 200+ years, but can't remember ever feeling alive until now. He is so deathly afraid of what he has being ripped away now that he's had a taste.

Because every other time he ever felt hope, Cazador tore it away and punished him. Cazador has caught him before when he ran, and locked him in a tomb to starve in darkness for a year. There's a reason the game makes it clear that this is his worst memory. It has to constantly be haunting him, fearful that at any moment Cazador is going to rip this away, too.

So, Astarion sleeps with Tavurge and is suddenly told that the design Cazador drew on his back is written in Infernal. Infernal being the language devils use to write Infernal Contracts. Astarion has to be out of his mind with fear that whatever is on his back binds him to Cazador in some way. Maybe in a way he doesn't know about.

I need to say something about body autonomy trauma, so trigger warning for those who struggle with these subjects. Sexual and body autonomy trauma both play into why this scene is powerful. I struggle with both and there's a reason his story hits particularly hard with me.

****Trigger For Description Of Emotional Response to Trauma: Having control of your body taken away leaves you with a type of deep, primal fear that is very difficult to explain. It's ridiculous and cliche, but the honest-to-best way to describe it is it, feels like a hole deep in your chest where something used to be. And it was literally wrenched out of inside your body, a place where nobody should be able to go because if your body isn't safe then where the fuck is? So keep that in mind.****

Not only has Astarion not had control of his body, he can't even see it in a reflection. Let that sink in.

To add it all up: he has something written in Infernal on his back that he can't see, but that could mean the one thing he's dreading = being bound to Cazador and having all of this ripped away. Again. And then he'll be punished, doing nothing but thinking about what he only just got a taste of.

This is why the cycle of abuse just crushes hope out of you. Because things hurt so much worse when you're hoping for them to work. At some point you're just hurting yourself by hoping.

He's terrified and he can't even look at his own body to see what someone forcibly mutilated into his skin.

So, Tavurge approaches Astarion from behind, just like in the mirror scene. Except this time, Astarion can't see them approaching.

Tavurge surprises him, in what's already a vulnerable moment, and surprises him from behind. A position of weakness. We'll hit on this more in a moment.

Astarion snaps at Tavurge due to being caught in a vulnerable moment. But, he quickly slides back into his charm and apologizes. Mask back up.

He explains what he was doing and the dialog choices here even throwback to the mirror scene. You can tell him you'll be his mirror in this scene.

He's hesitant about the idea. He's not comfortable with vulnerability, and outright tells Tavurge this isn't their problem. This is an extremely vulnerable thing, especially for someone with body autonomy issues. You're turning your back on someone and asking them to show you what's on your own damn body! What if they lie?

This is a major trust moment for Astarion. If you ask later to talk to others in camp about his scars, he is quick to say no.

He's not ready to trust that much. He just was vulnerable with Tavurge and that took too much out of the vulnerability reserves to push for more. Got to let those reserves build back up by seeing more reasons that show it's okay to be vulnerable.

This man does not want to turn around. He keeps his head down and grimaces, closes his eyes to brace himself. Think about all the triggers he must have about turning his back on people. He wasn't exactly bringing the morally upright back to Cazador. And Cazador, himself, obviously took advantage of his control to force Astarion to turn his back to him. Thus the scars.

Given all of that, he still turns around in an act of consent.

I love that you can just choose to quietly draw. You don't tell him how bad it looks, you don't try to comfort him by saying it's not that bad (which he would likely only hear as patronizing in this moment), and you can choose to not make a joke. I feel that's meaningful.

He turns around and can finally fucking see this thing that's been on his back for over two centuries.

At least he got to see his face, even if he can't remember almost anything about it. At least he can touch his hair, touch his face to get an idea. He can't even do that with the scars.

This means a lot, guys. Tavurge has drawn something that I argue is more meaningful than Astarion's face.

Tavurge has drawn a significant key to his future. The future he wants more than anything.

He needs to figure out what the hell this is before Cazador possibly activates it and Tavurge just made that significantly more possible.

And then, Tavurge has the option to call the two of them "we" for the first time in a way not tied to sex. Telling him "we will figure this out" and not asking for anything in return or giving him a hard time about it - at least not too much. The "shut up and turn around" dialog is one of my favs, and I feel Astarion appreciates the candor.

He's definitely sus when you say "we".

That is the face of sus.

But also...amusedly hopeful?

I like that he calls Tavurge "sweet" here. It makes me think of him calling them "cute" in the spawn ending at the grave with the flower.

I think Astarion really picks up on small things. Things people say and do genuinely, and I think it both amuses and confuses him, and in the beginning (here) still makes him uneasy and suspicious. He even asks it as somewhat of a question. Like, are you really actually this genuine?

I also would like to make an argument to the court that this is a significant moment when Astarion starts to realize he !FEELS! something for Tavurge and it's wigging him out!

They're making him hope again, and that's scary.

So, there. That's my evidence for why this scene is the drawing Astarion scene that we all love in our headcannons.

Tavurge is drawing something of extreme significance here. And I love how incredibly subtle this scene is in not blatantly pointing that out.

It's beautiful writing and that is all, your honor. Midnight dissertation - but also I may be in court - over!

Thank you for reading any of this nonsense.

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