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justporo · 6 months ago

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What happened on the chaise longue

Brimsterton | A Staevstarion Regency AU

A/N: So as I've mentioned before, answering an ask, there's more Regency AU shenanigans with these two. This wonderful, amazing artwork is even a scene happening in this very fic! This brainworm is very deep in my head still, so you'll have to bare with me. @velnna thanks as always for letting me play with your son! And also: this piece is still giving me so many feelings, ugh, I love them.

Summary: Astarion Ancunín and Staeve Brimstone, the two most daring bachelors in town, are crashing a poor lady's soiree and end the night back at the Brimstone estate, laughing and talking on the chaise longue in Staeve's room. They've done this since they've been kids. But somehow, this night, something's different...

Pairing: Astarion/Staeve Wordcount: 2,5k Warnings: light nsfw at the end

~~~

Poor Marquess Wickleston hadn't had nearly a chance when the two most infamous bachelors in town had just appeared in the middle of the crowd of her soiree. Had it only been the son of this wicked Viscount Brimstone she wouldn’t have hesitated to throw him out. But as always he'd been in company of the son of Duke Ancunín. And to throw him out so publicly would have been a scandal of near astronomical grandeur.

And so she had begrudgingly watched the two men as they had riled up a group of recently introduced debutantes like kids chasing through a flock of pigeons for fun. Marquess Wickleston could only hope that this had been the epitome of the excitement as she was fanning herself to keep the simmering anger within her below a boiling point. With a smile plastered onto her face she watched and hoped that neither of the men would have actually dared to defile one of the young ladies’ honour.

Or at least she hoped the young Ancunín hadn't, dashing as he was. As for Staeve Brimstone - well, there wasn't much of a family name or reputation to uphold anyways.

Which had made people question frequently why exactly the Ancuníns had allowed their only son to linger with this nouveau rich family’s offspring. But Astarion and Staeve had been thick as thieves from a young age on. No one had dared to tear them apart - yet.

“Eventually these two will have to part ways,” Marquis Wickleston interrupted his wife's thoughts, watching the two young men as they each asked a young lady for a dance and thus made the whole group giggle once more. Two roosters causing havoc in the henhouse, truly.

The Marquess scoffed disapprovingly, her fan gaining speed, sending bits of ostrich feathers flying.

“Life will handle it, my dear,” she replied to her husband, scrunching up her nose as she watched Staeve twirl one of the women under their looped arms, causing screeches of delight and jealousy from the onlookers.

“The time will come when they realise a mutt will always remain a mutt no matter how much finery you put him in or how much expensive champagne you let him drink,” the noble woman concluded before she turned away, sharply letting her fan snap shut.

And many a cup of said expensive champagne had been drained to the bottom that night. A kiss or two had been stolen from one of the young ladies in a dark corner or outside, around the bend of a neatly trimmed hedge. Quite a few hackles had been raised in the process.

All in all, a party had been very adequately crashed.

It had been deep in the night when the two friends had made their way back from the Wickleston to the Brimstone estate. Barely able to hold on to Rhapsody’s and Freckle’s reins as they had been laughing the whole ride back. The way had been generously lit by the full moon of an early summer night. The days were warm already. But the nights still had a tendency to creep up on you, leaving you shivering and yearning for warmth.

So now, Staeve and Astarion were huddled together on the chaise longue in Staeve’s rooms like they had done so many times since they had been kids - looking for a bit of that warmth. And they found it almost involuntarily as they struggled to find space for the two of them. Two rascal boys had grown into debonair young men, while the piece of furniture had become to betray its name. Still, they lounged on it in a mess of limbs - somehow sitting, laying and sliding down on it all at the same time.

Doublets had been dismissively discarded, boots thrown off with a snicker before they had padded over polished wooden floors and plush carpets to let themselves fall down in woozy exhaustion. Even their loose linen shirts beneath were starting to look severely dishevelled as they had given up on holding up a facade of decency

But who even cared, in the low light of a hastily lit lantern, that only made sure they wouldn’t trip.

In front of them on a low table was another bottle of champagne they had taken as a little parting gift for themselves. The fancy crystal looked a little displaced in between the mess on there: books about oddly specific topics, some hardware and tools, some craft projects Staeve used to play around with in his free time.

Only a small horse figurine at one corner made out of painted porcelain, was spared from the mess. As it had been for as long as it had been carefully placed there.

The glass door behind them, was still half open from when they had snuck in from the moonlit gardens to not wake any of the residents of the Brimstone manor. All while shushing each other dramatically time and again and desperately trying not to burst into outright howling laughter until they had finally made it to Staeve’s rooms - and onto the chaise longue.

Oh, how many nights had ended just like this.

They were so effortlessly close to each other, a kind of unspoken familiarity between them. Something only they could share. Although for a while now there had been a new quality to their closeness. One of those things that was easily identified by someone from the outside looking in; but not the other way around.

Laughter spilled from their lips like bubbles had from the near empty bottle in front of them as they joked and talked: two friends making sure that life wouldn't catch up with them for a while longer. Not yet.

“My father will certainly receive a letter of concern from Marquess Wickleston,” Astarion said at one point, accompanied by a massive eye roll. But then he immediately broke into a high pitched giggle, remembering how the lady of the house had made the feathers of her fan fly in agitation.

“At least your family only receives the concerned letters,” Staeve replied and reached for the bottle once more. “Mine only ever receives enraged ones, bordering on outright insulting.” He lifted the bottle to his lips but found that there was but mere drops of champagne left. With a dramatic sigh he set it down again and with a bit of drunken swagger propped up his arm on his knee and then his face on his hand. He threw the bottle an accusatory look. As if it was its own fault for being downed so quickly.

“Well, I fear soon there won’t be any of those letters anymore. Not once I'm sent off on the Grand Tour,” Astarion replied in a dry tone - nearly as dry as the bottom of the empty champagne bottle he nudged around the low table with his naked foot now. He draped an arm over his eyes as he leaned back so far, one couldn’t have told if he was rather sitting or lying down.

Silence followed his words as Astarion had brought back that sombre reality they had unspokenly agreed to leave behind for at least this night.

But here it was, caught up quicker than they would have hoped. Life always did these days, unfortunately.

The quiet fell onto them like a sheet as they each pondered on those words.

Indeed, some time ago, after Astarion had acted weirdly around him for a good while, Staeve had been able to wrangle out of him that his family wanted him to finally take his education seriously. The ultimatum had been to either take up studies at a university or go on the Grand Tour over the continent.

In the end, the choice hadn’t been hard. But it still had been either the knife or the gun: only an illusion of choice if the outcome was to be the same.

The Ancunín name came with responsibilities and expectations and Astarion was meant to fulfil them. There was no debate on the matter. They both knew that.

But not tonight. And not for some to come.

“Say when did that start again, your wretched little trip? Wasn’t it only at the beginning of autumn? That is still far off,” Staeve blabbered with a grin splitting his face. An attempt to lighten the mood once more. “Who’s to tell if we haven’t grown bored of each other before then,” he joked.

As if.

He turned around to Astarion, expecting to be met with a similar smirk and a quick-witted response to his slander.

But Astarion had only sunken deeper into the cushions, not even looking at him.

Staeve’s heart sank. He felt like something was slowly slipping from his fingers. Not even fully knowing what it was.

“What will I do without you?”

Astarion’s words were terribly silent. Deafeningly so.

Slowly, Staeve leaned back while Astarion was still avoiding his gaze.

“Hey,” he whispered to his friend, softly touching his shoulder while simultaneously trying not to tipsily lose balance doing so. “You won’t get rid of me that easily, Astarion.”

No reaction.

“I’ll write you letters every week,” Staeve promised, bumping his shoulder with Astarion’s.

Only then did he get a rise out of the other. Astarion’s eyes snapped to his, a corner of his mouth shortly twitching upwards. “Tsk, if you’re calling these abominations you come up with letters, I might be better off without you after all.”

Staeve’s heart jumped happily, as much in relief as for the wicked glimmer in those crimson eyes on him now.

“Alright, see if I care,” Staeve took him up on the banter, happy to have found at least an inkling of the usual snark within his friend. They both snickered, sliding further down the chair, ending up increasingly squished together as space became a rarity on the altogether too small seat.

“It won’t be the same though,” Astarion whispered after a while, once the laughter had dried up again and Staeve’s head had come to rest on his shoulder, eyes closed.

“Like what?” Staeve mumbled as he felt the pull of drunken slumber luring him, with the comfort of Astarion beside him.

More silence spread.

It was almost when he had drifted off to sleep that he heard Astarion reply.

“Like this.”

It pulled him back, immediately. Something in the tone of the other man once more making Staeve’s heart leap. If out of fear, hope, excitement, he couldn’t tell. It was enough at least to make him push himself up on one of his arms and focus all of his energy to look at his lifelong friend - really look at him.

And there he was, with his white curls all messed up just like his clothes, cheeks blushed from too much alcohol and feelings that had gone unspoken. Red eyes big and shining in the low light and soft lips slightly agape.

He was beautiful. Had he always been like that? When had he become this beautiful?

Staeve felt how his heart started to thunder, fingers beginning to tremble as he took in a face he’d known for a lifetime - that yet suddenly felt so surprisingly and pleasantly different.

He leaned over him, eliciting a small gasp from Astarion whose hand flew to Staeve’s chest. Not pushing away but not pulling him in further either.

And he understood. As he kept hovering over Astarion, watching how the other’s lip quivered slightly, eyes jumping between his, he understood a great deal.

There were no words all of a sudden. Maybe there never had or would be.

But thankfully the last bit of distance was so simple to bridge now.

Staeve slowly but with determination let his face lower to Astarion’s, heart galloping, heat rushing all through his body. He was eager to close the gap.

But still he halted, giving Astarion a final chance to remove himself, to push him away.

It didn’t happen.

The last inch was conquered so quickly. He saw Astarion’s eyes widen, a gasp half leaving pale lips and breath washing over his face before the rest was swallowed by Staeve.

And then they were kissing.

Mouths moved against each other. Slowly at first, careful, not believing that this was suddenly the reality that had caught up with them.

But once there, they moved past hesitancy quickly, sliding down on the chaise longue until Staeve was above Astarion, the kiss growing deeper as something unfolded between them.

Both got more confident with every thundering heartbeat shared between them. Staeve’s tongue slipped into the other man’s mouth, greeted eagerly. Hands were quickly wandering over already messed up shirts and buried in hair, trying desperately to grab hold.

Astarion tasted of the champagne they had shared, smelled of the stables where they had tied up their horses. But deeper down, there was something more unique. And Staeve was desperate to taste it to the fullest.

What had been pent up suddenly needed out all at once. Their tongues swirled around each other’s while gasps and silent moans filled the former silence. Staeve cupped Astarion’s face as he felt the smaller man’s hands wander down his body, all the way down to where all the tension was manifesting achingly. He felt no shame feeling the other’s hands there, exploring what he finally realised he’d been feeling for a long time. And when he finally lowered the full weight of his body on Astarion, being rewarded with a breathless gasp, he drank up just like the drinks they’ve had all night long, he knew the other must feel the same thrilling need. The same desperate desire surfacing all at once.

An eternity passed as they lay there, wrapped up in and rubbing against each other, everything else forgotten. The kiss and their hands exploring each other’s bodies leaving scorching trails wherever they wandered. A sensation so intense it felt like it would leave them visibly marked.

Staeve’s hand was about to dip below the waistline of Astarion’s trousers. They had broken away from each other’s lips for just a moment. Their eyes, full of yearning, burning into each other as pale fingers wrapped around Staeve’s wrist as he was about to cross this final line.

Then there was a sudden noise, a door opening.

Immediately, Staeve jumped up from his position over his friend, stuffing his shirt back to where Astarion had pulled it from his trousers in the desperate need to feel skin.

He was met with a deep scowl on his sister’s face, Nita.

“Sister!” Staeve yelled at her, trying to make anger cover up the sudden panic he felt burning on his face. “Can you knock, perhaps?”

“Can you come home and not wake up the whole manor - perhaps?” his sister simply gave back, raising a single eyebrow.

She said nothing more, just stared at her brother. Then her eyes flicked behind him for a split second.

Staeve held her gaze while still trying to make himself look decent again, not knowing how to move on.

“Astarion and I…,” he began and turned around to where they had both been, just moments ago, holding onto each other.

But the chaise longue was empty.

Only the glass door to the gardens was opened a bit farther than before, letting in the cold of the night.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #fanfiction #staeve #astarion x staeve #bg3 #brimsterton #staevstarion #regency AU

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nathaira-draws · 4 months ago

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Nothing suspicious going on here

had the opportunity to play with Astarion and Staeve, who belongs to @velnna, for a prompt <3

#nathdraws #bg3 #astarion #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #staeve

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rahleedraws · 1 year ago

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It was revealed that @velnna ‘s BG3 character, Staeve, purred…so naturally, I had to draw my Druid petting two best bois, because they deserve it ☺��💕

Also I’m generally commemorating the fact that I am relieved to not be the only artist positively obsessed with Astarion/BG3/my own Tav 😂 makes me feel somewhat sane. So thanks MAF, and MAF’s discord server!

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanart #bg3 oc #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #staeve #oc #oc art

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reinwinters · 9 months ago

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WIP

Lion king vibes hah.

@velnna

#bg3 #bg3 fanart #digital art #astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #drow oc #staeve #astarion x male tav #gale of waterdeep #lion king

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justporo · 7 months ago

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By candlelight

A/N: Ah yes, you know the drill by now. I play barbies with @velnna's Staeve. And quite often so lately. If you followed me for Astarion, guys, I'm so sorry - but at least he's always in here as well! So this was inspired by something @reijenhere said, namely something along the lines of: what if Astarion notices Staeve has grown first grey hairs. So here we are, thanks again @velnna for letting me play with your son and @reijenhere for the inspo, mwa!

~~~

Astarion woke up in the middle of the night - shaken by nightmares like he sometimes still was. No matter how many years had passed.

The candle on the nightstand hadn’t fully burned down to its butt yet. So warm light still spilled from it, drawing long shadows on the pale elf as he slowly sat up with a silent moan leaving his lips, trying to not wake his partner beside him.

Staeve was sleeping peacefully on his stomach, one arm absentmindedly wrapped around Astarion’s waist, even in his dreams. As if he had felt that his love might need an anchor tonight.

The vampire felt the comforting weight of it as he pressed the balls of his hands to his eyes, leaning his head back against the wooden headboard. With deep breaths, he tried to let the unsettling memories and fear be washed away - piece by piece with every wave of air. Unknowingly adjusting to the calm rhythm of Staeve’s body rising and falling beside him.

And when his tension had eased enough to feel rooted in the present once more, he lifted his hands from his eyes and let them rest gently on Staeve’s arms. One wandered up over it, fingers tapping over the hairs and freckles softly before they wandered further over his shoulder and neck, then his jawline and one pointy ear before they lightly curled in dark green hair.

Astarion observed how the softly flickering light from the candle painted his lover’s skin and added a warm orange sheen to his hair. How it reflected on their matching pair of silver bands on their fingers.

He kept caressing his unaware lover, counted some freckles on his arm while feeling the fine hairs there beneath his fingertips, with his other hand curling strands of silky moss green around his fingers. Astarion’s shoulders slowly relaxed, the steep wrinkle between his drawn together brows flattened as crimson eyes kept wandering over the form of the resting half-drow, along with pale, light fingers.

Then all at once his eyes and hands came to a stop.

The vampire’s eyes were suddenly trained on a single strand of Staeve’s hair twirled around his fingers.

Something there wasn’t catching the light quite like the rest.

In fact, now that he had spotted it, it was blatantly obvious: a single hair that shone brightly in a sea of green. Silver, like the wedding rings on their hands.

Astarion stared at it, eyes wide, his whole body right back to being as tense as it had been moments ago, the wrinkle between his brows deeper than before.

It was hard to spot, even for a vampire and his heightened senses, barely more than a needle in a haystack. Staeve probably hadn’t even noticed.

But once noticed it was impossible for Astarion to overlook.

When he finally dared to let his eyes move further he quickly spotted more: single, painfully light hairs peeking through; on his arm too.

As another kind of dread than before slowly rose up within him, Astarion’s gaze jumped to his lover’s face. And he saw it there too, now that he was aware of it: how the lines around those lips and eyes had become a little deeper, more threatening to be drawn soon.

Staeve was inevitably growing older. While Astarion was doomed to never change.

Thankfully, at this moment the candle died out as it reached its end. It left the room in merciful darkness, forcing the vampire to lose sight of this harsh truth.

He sat there in darkness for a few more moments longer with his mind racing.

Then, void of anything else to do, Astarion softly took Staeve’s arm as he laid down beside him again. Unconsciously in his sleep, Staeve groaned lightly, turned to his side and drew his partner in closer with his arm looped around him until they were neatly cuddled up on their sides.

Astarion was left with his thoughts running through his head.

But he felt the steady rhythm of Staeve’s heartbeat and his warmth slowly sleeping in, his smell and the reassuring weight of the arm wrapped around his waist.

Despite himself Astarion noticed how he was softly pulled back to hopefully more pleasant dreams, his body slowly falling victim to his lover’s calming presence.

Something that, despite anything else, hadn’t changed yet.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #fanfiction #astarion x tav #staeve #astarion x staeve #drabble #bg3 #staevstarion

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justporo · 1 year ago

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Senseless

Astarion, Staeve and the others barely survived their last big fight. Staeve can barely take the exhaustion which might or might not be amplified by how his local vampire has been regularly feeding on him. He desperately tries to push through... And Astarion has a few things to say about that.

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: This will be quite long, so... sorry! But I have a few things to add about this. First of all, I dedicate this piece of writing to the lovely @velnna - creator of the legendary Staeve and incredible artist! (Check him out if you don't know him already, I will say it again) This story is a continuation to "Bloodless". Back during writing that I already imagined Staeve being the Tav in that story (but didn't officially make it so). Back then I was waaay to too scared to tag velnna - but: I recently found out (well, he told me himself- and very kindly), that he indeed found it, read it - and liked it! (I was in shock...) And so I immediately thought that I would have to write an actual Staeve x Astarion piece for him. So here we are! @velnna, thank you so much for your kind words - I will be thinking of this and be motivated by it for a long time! And thank you also for all the amazing art you provide this community with! It's written from the usual second person POV - but it's STAEVE!

Pairing: Astarion/Staeve (You, male reader) Warnings: none, but major Act 2 spoilers so it will fully remain below the cut Wordcount: 3,5k ~~~

Barely, just barely had you all made it out of this godsdamned mausoleum alive. And after slaying a demon, oh, some other folks too, completing the Gauntlet of Shar, and a trip to the Shadowfell, you felt positively exhausted. And you felt that it was rightfully earned. Especially knowing that you wouldn’t get much rest before you were taking on an even bigger threat.

No rest for the wicked, it seemed – even though you weren’t entirely sure if that meant you or your foes.

You’d been pretty much exhausted even before you had entered the mausoleum and then what lay beneath (and before a certain devil had made it even worse). All because a certain vampire had to be kept fed and happy. Not that you were complaining about it though.

The two of you had your disagreements about it. Especially since you had already ended up in the dirt once because you might’ve been just a tad too eager about offering your neck to the vampire. You had both agreed to take it a bit slower after that - at least with the whole feeding thing.

Although you had still felt like it hadn’t been that much of a deal, the vampire had kept hissing at you to not be so desperate, as he called it. You would have called it: being way too stubborn to accept some godsdamned help.

And that is what had become of you both: two idiots, not really being able to admit to each other how deeply you actually cared for the other. Until just recently.

But even with that - it still meant you were both very much on uncharted territory. And putting feelings into words after such a long time of just trying to suppress them was by far not an easy feat to achieve.

And then, when you had entered the Shadowlands with barely anything alive in it – what else could you have done but to offer yourself up again? Astarion’s survival instincts had kicked in once more and so had your urge to provide – for as long as you were able to be there for him.

On top of that, the moments of tenderness that always followed, holding each other, kissing each other, deeply, – and before a certain night not long ago, often more – had done their fair share of consoling you about just a little blood loss. Barely anything couldn’t be forgotten as long as you were laying in the arms of someone you wanted to just keep holding onto – right?

But as much as you tried to ignore it: you still felt it. Felt how the generous donations to your local vampire tended to make you a little sluggish. Maybe it was even a bit more than just a little. More than once causing you to only make a critical dodge or lift your blade to parry in the last possible moment. Your A game definitely looked different.

But then again: did you want to be responsible for Astarion’s waning strength when it was so easy to just saunter over to him in the evening? Talk to him, get him to throw some of his sultry lines at you, cheesing your way to the same moment almost every night where you deliberately offered the vampire to feed on you. And he always accepted in the end.

It had become a well practised dance between the two of you over the past time spent in these godsforsaken lands. And so it had been in like about you trying to hide the effects all of this had on your constitution

So, when you had come out of the damned crypt – alive, even if only by a hair – your first order had been to lie down. Just right in front of the stone arch. Right in the dirt.

“Gods above and below”, you whispered, letting out a sigh and spreading out all of your limbs.

As soon as you made contact with the ground you knew it would be next to impossible to get up again in the near future. So, you settled for getting cosy with what you got. Which meant wiggling around until you found a somewhat comfortable position where the sword on your back wouldn’t press too much into your back.

“Gods, Staeve, you couldn’t wait ten seconds?”, Shadowheart scoffed and made a big step over one of your stretched out limbs – too stubborn to actually find a way around you. Incredible, how she still had the energy to be sassy after everything that must be weighing on her mind now. But then again, you really couldn’t blame her for deflecting with a generous amount of sarcasm.

“Ten seconds? What difference would that have made, eh?”, you answered her.

You lifted your head up a little. “I’d just be lying over there then”, you continued and weakly pointed down the path a bit.

The cleric just rolled her eyes at you and groaned at you again as the rest of the companions left the dusty old place as well. All of you blood covered and feeling exhaustion down to your bones.

You closed your eyes as you felt the fatigue grab almost complete hold of you. Meanwhile you heard how some of the others settled down around you. Halsin, who’d been lightly injured in the fight, winced as he sat down.

Your eyes flew open at the sound of it and lifting your head up again, you looked at him. But the druid just smiled and waved you off - no big deal, thankfully. So you let your head sink to the ground again, eyes shutting with a sigh. You barely had it in you to stay awake right this moment.

Your limbs felt heavy as lead, and you felt the drag on your eyelids. Meanwhile your pulse was still thrumming in your chest and your ears. A nervous rhythm that threatened to become the only thing baring you from drifting off to blissful and much needed sleep.

You were well aware that this kind of exhaustion wasn’t normal - even with everything you and the others had gone through. It had slowly become more and more - up to where you were now lying in the dirt, not sure if you would make it to camp tonight. Might be you were kind of in a pickle - but best not to dwell on it.

Next time you opened your eyes was when you heard some rustling quite near to you. It was Astarion, kneeling next to you. He was giving you one of his judgemental glances with a raised eyebrow, red eyes piercing as ever.

“Oh, hi love”, you said and grinned, tiredly wiggling your eyebrows at him. The vampire didn’t even acknowledge you - except for his eyebrow rising still a bit higher.

“So”, he drawled, an edge to his voice you couldn’t fully place, “are we getting up or do we have to carry you, love.” He made a little dramatic pause before he sarcastically spat out the last word.

You slapped your hand to your armoured chest with some effort and made a face that hopefully conveyed how hurt you felt by his implied accusation.

Astarion didn’t give a shit about your histrionics.

So you decided for a comeback.

“My friend, you aren’t carrying anyone, anywhere at any time in the near future”, you replied dryly. You heard Karlach snicker somewhere behind you. At least you’d gotten someone’s approval. The vampire gave the tiefling a death glare, then his ruby gaze wandered back to you.

And then it kept lingering on you. Something in the vampire’s eyes had changed and it was beginning to startle you.

And well - usually by now he should have taken up the banter with you again. Could it be, he was actually worried? Like really, actually worried?

“Look”, you said and used some of the little power you had left in your body to push up to a position that was at least somewhat close to sitting up. Immediately you started to feel dizzy.

“I’m fine. Just a little tired, that’s all. We all are, aren’t we?”, you continued as you desperately tried to not let it be known how much your surroundings were spinning around you at the moment.

Quite obviously you were doing a terrible job at that because there was now open worry on Astarion’s face. Even the usual sharp edge of teasing in his voice had been dulled down by now: “And you want to take on Ketheric Thorm tomorrow? And all his thugs? Like this?”

You were definitely getting a little annoyed at him now. The others had gone dead silent. They must’ve been feeling too that this situation might be about to go sideways. You didn’t care.

And as much as you felt him tug on your heartstrings with the sad round puppy eyes he offered you now - did he have to make it so public? You were just not having it.

Using every last ounce of energy that you still had within you, you made to stand up. Astarion’s eyes widened some more and he cautiously stood up as well. His brows were furrowed now.

You gathered your legs beneath you with quite some effort. The world around you was really rushing past you now, but you were determined to bite through it. Then you pushed up to a standing position - straightening your back for extra effect and pointing a very passive-aggressive finger at your vampire.

“I’ll have you know tha-”, you began in a sassy tone.

But then no one would ever find out what you would have wanted to let them know. Because your vision blackened rapidly, closing in from the edges and you already felt the strange sensation of toppling over. Gravity inevitably pulling you back to the ground you had just stood up from.

The last thing you felt were arms that caught you under the armpits, with quite some effort. You heard strained groans and a hissed “idiot” very close to your ear. Then you passed out completely.

~~~

You woke up in dire confusion about where you were and how you’d gotten there. You lifted up your torso and blinked profusely to try and clear your vision. You also immediately reached for a dagger that would have usually been at your side. But you were also out of your armour it seemed. Oh, and laying on some pillows? A blanket draped over you?

You closed your eyes again and pressed the balls of your hands to your eyes. And you groaned as you felt a headache creep up on you now that you had woken up.

Since there seemed to be no imminent dangers around you sunk back onto the pillows. You realised that your shirt had been taken off as well. Pain thrummed through your skull.

Your hands dropped from your face, your vision cleared more and more and you realised that you were laying in someone else’s tent. And as you took a closer look at the ceiling of the tent, your brows furrowed. Because you very well knew which tent it was you were laying in. You’ve had your fair share of staring up at this very particular fabric from this very particular spot.

Your head popped up again from the pillows. And you found Astarion sitting at your feet, in his camp clothes. Legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles, arms folded over his chest and very much glowering at you. His red eyes were basically boring into you.

“Oh, are we awake again? Back from the land of the dead, hm? Rise and shine then, my love, since you seemed so eager to do so earlier!”, the vampire immediately went into a tirade.

“You’re not even going to give me a few more moments to just really wake up?”, you replied flatly. But you could already feel his words evoking shame within you. You rubbed one of your eyes once more, trying to look innocent.

The vampire kept fuming: “Were you planning on telling me how much the blood loss affected you again?”

“No.”

Astarion obviously could barely believe your audacity as well as your honesty by the way his eyes first widened and then narrowed even more at you. But he kept silent.

“Were you planning on stopping to take my offered blood?”, you posed in return when there was no further reaction coming from Astarion.

You regretted the words as soon as they had left your tongue. Knowing it was a cheap shot because this was still very much you insisting on being the one to take care of his needs. And also hiding the negative side effects.

You immediately felt the twinge of guilt as you saw how Astarion’s eyes couldn’t help but stray from yours as he registered your words. Your headache accordingly sent a bolt of pain through your skull, making you groan.

You closed your eyes in desperation for a second, trying to swallow down the thought that you had just put this guilt onto him. Blaming him for his basic needs of survival even if you hadn’t meant it like that at all.

As you compulsively tried to think of something to say, you heard the vampire speak again: “Well, as much as I enjoy you falling for me. Maybe you could try and… avoid it next time.”

Your throat closed up. Immediately, the double meaning very much wasn’t lost on you.

And not only did you instantly recognise the tone of him deflecting with something harsh and sarcastic but you could also almost see how his old and very much practised mask slipped back in its place.

You felt how the whole situation was slipping from your fingers. Desperate to do something about it, you got up from the still half-lying position you were in and crawled over to where the vampire was now looking at you with trained indifference.

Your chest ached, just having to look at it. Especially since you had only recently made such a leap with him finally allowing you in more. Astarion finally allowing for some of the carefully put up fortress walls to crumble under your soft touch.

Back, when his somewhat cautious confession had made you swear to yourself that you wouldn’t stop until all of the wretched, cascading layers of armour the vampire had put up around his core would have been disassembled.

Now you felt you might be responsible for some of those layers being put back into place. Even if it had just been a very short moment, a dumb slip of the tongue. You hoped it wasn’t too late yet to undo the damage.

You drew your arms around your lover - slowly, cautiously. Posing the question if you were still allowed to do that.

The vampire let it happen.

A tiny fraction of your tension eased at the thought that there might still be hope to rectify the delicate thing you had basically just stepped on. That he would allow you to make it right.

“I’m sorry, Astarion”, you whispered silently. Almost too quiet to form actual words. But the pale elf in your arms heard you anyway. He didn’t look up at you but he did sink into your arms a little more.

“I’m sorry for what I said and for how I acted. I didn’t mean to blame you for anything.”, you said again, this time more confidently.

There was no further acknowledgement of your apology other than the vampire slowly leaning his head against your naked chest. His soft hair brushed lightly over your bare skin. Even the lightest touches of him in your arms sent jolts through your entire body.

But the knot between you was not yet unravelled.

Fear threatened to close up your throat again as your mind raced, feverishly trying to think of a way to make him understand that it was just… he meant everything to you. That you’d rather crawl in the dirt yourself instead of having to watch him do it.

That you so desperately cared about him. Why couldn’t he see that?

And then another thought crossed your mind. Concerning the battle you would have to take on tomorrow.

What if this was the last chance you would ever get to convey this to him? The last shot at convincing him that he was very much loved and cared for and had a place in this world as long as you walked this planet.

Carefully you raised your hand to under Astarion’s chin and nudged softly to see if he would allow you to lift up his head to make him meet your gaze. Again, he let it happen.

The vampire’s eyes found yours. Instantly, something in his gaze changed as he must’ve seen something particular in them. You tenderly and cautiously cupped his cheek as your lips parted. But it still took another moment before you managed to find the words.

“Astarion, if tomorrow… would be the end. I-”, you broke off. Then took another breath before you continued.

“I would hate myself if this is how I left things. I wouldn’t want to have caused you to think that I was just brushing you off for caring for me. Or that I put any blame on you when I was being a reckless idiot. But I still would want you to understand that I just… I’m doing this because I want you to be safe and happy and careless and free and… with me, if you want that.”

Astarion’s eyes ever so slightly widened and opened up as you spoke. A nearly inaudible gasp left his throat.

After you had ended your little speech, the moment of the two of you looking into each other’s eyes just went on. But the mood had changed now. The way Astarion looked at you as you softly let your thumb wander over his cheekbone was no longer distant. He was still allowing you in, if cautiously so.

Your gaze dropped to his lips as your thumb kept wandering over the vampire’s delicate skin.

Then you leaned in just a little - letting him decide if he wanted to bridge the gap between you. And he did so without hesitation.

Astarion met your parted lips with his. You gladly accepted his open-mouthed kiss.

The rest of the words that yet remained unspoken between you were resolved this way. By kissing deeply and assuring the other of what you could not yet put into words.

The vampire’s hand grabbed onto your upper arm, fingertips lightly grazing your biceps. You let your hand wander from his cheek into his soft white curls, your fingertips softly tugging and teasing them.

And you were still doing that when you slowly withdrew from him - if only enough to speak.

“I was a dick, Astarion, I’m sorry.”

“Yes, you were. Now, I thought we had just established that. Don’t try and draw it out to make me sappy, Staeve darling, or I might actually take back what I said the other night”, Astarion replied with an edge of sarcasm entering his voice again.

But you knew that it was the good-humoured kind once more. The one he used when you two bickered like an old married couple.

“Don’t promise what you can’t keep”, you offered back with a smug grin. The vampire rolled his eyes at you. Your grin just grew.

“Come, just lie down with me, please”, you proposed to your vampire. Now that adrenaline and stress were slowly leaving your body you felt exhaustion creep up on you again. The headache you had completely forgotten to acknowledge somewhere in between also letting itself be known again.

Astarion immediately took you up on it and you laid down on the bedroll, snuggling up to each other until your limbs were fully tangled, bodies fully wrapped around each other. You gazed upon the vampire in your arms - how much his pale skin contrasted against yours.

You slowly felt how the tension left both your bodies, shoulders dropping, jaws unclenching. Revelling in relief and joy you closed your eyes and focused solely on how it felt to hold Astarion. Just silently laying there, enjoying this moment of peace.

Until you broke the silence once more because a random thought had just crossed your mind.

“Wait, who actually carried me all the way back to camp?”

Astarion scrambled to push himself up once more and gave you a glare. “Really? That’s what’s on your mind right now?”

You shrugged: “I guess.”

The vampire’s glare became even more intense. Then it snapped to mischievous glint really quickly. He let one of his hands drag through his hair dramatically and sensually and said: “Oh, darling, couldn’t you believe that I valiantly carried you here like the knight in shiny armour that I am?” You wouldn’t even have believed him being able to pull you here with your face dragging through the dirt.

“It was Halsin, wasn’t it?”

You received another death glare. Then Astarion just sighed in defeat and wrapped himself in your arms again.

“Yes it was. I was the one who undressed you though.”

“Of course you were”, you replied with a wolfish grin although Astarion couldn’t see it. The vampire groaned in annoyance

“Now, if you please, let me enjoy this moment in peace, you idiot.”

And so you did. Holding onto Astarion as he held onto you. Both silently smiling and not even that afraid anymore of what tomorrow might bring.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #bg3 companions #staeve #astarion x staeve

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justporo · 10 months ago

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Until you believe it

A/N: Well, I planned on continuing writing that smut fic (I am working on it, just trying to cook a very good meal for all of you). But then I got warm fuzzy feelings for these two again. Hot elven men, can you blame me? Thanks as always to @velnna for letting me borrow his blorbo!

Things had been so different since that night Astarion had taken all his courage to let Staeve in. Like something had been broken and simultaneously healed once Staeve had wrapped his arms around him and assured him that he wanted nothing else but real between them.

When the pale elf had leaned his forehead against the other rogue’s shoulder he had allowed himself to melt into his touch, at least for a moment. For a few of Staeve’s heartbeats - he could clearly feel hammering in the taller man’s chest - he had felt at peace, his mind pleasantly quiet for maybe the first time in 200 years. The tender hug an oasis in the endless desert.

The vampire still couldn’t believe it but for whatever reason the curious half-drow had stayed, kept tolerating him, even after he had revealed himself and his ulterior motives to him.

And not only that: the gaze of the Staeve’s black and teal eyes always softened when he looked at Astarion. His arms seemed always open, his embrace always welcoming, the words murmured into the vampire’s ear in the nights - they mostly spent fully clothed with each other now - so genuine.

It was almost enough to sway him.

But there must be a catch. There always was. The other shoe must be just about to drop. Moments of serene, blissful ease in Staeve’s arms were followed by deep, gnawing doubt.

Nothing came without a price attached. At least Astarion was in the deeply ingrained habit of thinking that. And old habits, as one knows, die hard.

Those usually were the moments when Astarion would steal away in the nights. To keep pondering about what all this meant - alone. Letting thoughts spiral in his mind until nothing made sense anymore.

That’s what he felt like doing right now as he laid there in the depth of night, Staeve laying at his back, one arm casually wrapped around him. The other rogue had dozed off long ago, subconsciously dragging Astarion in closer to him in his sleep, softly murmuring words that were unintelligible.

The vampire quietly rose to his feet, detangling himself from the other and using all of his roguish dexterity to not disturb Staeve in his blissful sleep. As he opened the flap of his tent a sleepy voice caught him right in the act and made him stop: “What do you think you’re doing?”

Astarion was as still as a statue now.

Staeve’s words weren’t really more intelligible than the stuff he had let out during his sleep. But his still half asleep mind had immediately made sense of the scene in front of him: Astarion scattering off again to sit in the darkness and let his worries take the better of him. He wasn’t about to let that happen, not on his watch.

The vampire slowly turned back around to him.

“I know what you’re doing, Astarion!”

Staeve’s words were still sluggish but he was determined to not let Astarion simply leave like this. With a bit of an effort he pushed himself to a sitting position, lips pursed.

“Don’t think I don’t know how you’re stealing away at night.”

He had very well noticed the vampire’s nightly get-aways but not said anything yet. The pain in Astarion’s crimson eyes he sometimes saw when the vampire thought no one was watching was enough to let the half-drow know that deeply rooted fears must be bugging his lover ceaselessly.

Fortunately for both of them, Staeve had a very fine plan to cure his partner of his worries, at least temporarily.

“Get back down here, I’m not done yet,” Staeve spoke more clearly now and opened up his arms wide for Astarion. His expression allowed no rejection.

But Astarion wouldn’t be Astarion- “Well, what if I am?”

His tone was snarky, his face mimicking Staeve’s pursed lips. The vampire crossed his arms and glared at his slow-blinking partner still trying to get back into the world of the awake.

Something in Staeve’s eyes changed then.

“Can we talk about that tomorrow and for now you get back into my arms?”

There it was again, that genuine tone that immediately made Astarion crack. Ruby eyes flitted over the half-drow’s face and searched for signs of deception or ill will. He found none. Nothing but deep affection and honest worry.

And that was when he folded despite his efforts. The need and the wish to be held by Staeve and being able to lay down his head quickly became an urge he couldn’t ignore. Astarion’s shoulders slumped and with a vulnerable expression on his face he took up Staeve’s open offer and arms and crawled back over to the other rogue.

After a bit shifting and wiggling they lay there similarly than before. But both arms were comfily wrapped around Astarion now, maybe even a leg so as to not let him escape again.

Staeve softly nuzzled the vampire’s pointy ear, purring softly at having him back where he rightfully belonged. Astarion slowly but surely relaxed into his warm touch as silence and nothing but the sound of a soft rumbling deep inside Staeve’s chest filled the night.

“Not done with what though?” Astarion suddenly asked after a long while whenStaeve had almost contentedly dozed off again.

The half-drow took a few moments to blink away the oncoming sleep so he could clearly speak and bring his point across:

“Hugging you. Smothering you with affection. Teasing you lovingly. Until you believe it.”

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #fanfiction #astarion x tav #staeve #astarion x staeve #drabble #bg3

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justporo · 10 months ago

Text

Rings

Just a fluffly little drabble I wrote today. Yes, it's @velnna's Staeve and Astarion again, don't come for me (I love them, okay?).

~~~

Sometimes Staeve still cannot believe it, what’s become of them. That they took all the right turns to end up here, right here.

And those are the moments where he holds up his left hand and takes a look at the small shimmering band there, on his ring finger. Turns his hand to see the shine reflect on it with the light. Maybe twists it around a bit with the fingers of his other hand. It has already become a habit of his: subconsciously playing around with it when he’s deep in thought - or when he’s missing him.

And sure as all Nine Hells: never taking it off, not even for a second.

His ring is humble, simple gold, no stone. Almost negligible, were it not for what it meant for Staeve. And Astarion too.

Astarion’s though is a bit more flamboyant. Of course, he wouldn’t be Astarion otherwise. But they match nonetheless, both engraved with a date on the inner side and eachof their initials.

“I didn’t pick you for a magpie, darling,” Astarion teases as he slides into bed next to his partner - no - his husband now.

Staeve throws the pale eld a quick glance, sees his signature smirk and crimson eyes glint playfully, feels the weight off the mattress shift. Then he returns to look at his ring while the vampire snuggles up to him. He feels his husbands ring too as Astarion wraps his left hand around his bare arm.

“No? I always thought being a bit of a magpie was kind of an occupational disease as a thief,” Staeve answers and smiles down at Astarion. The vampire’s soft, white curls are dripping onto his naked shoulder now as his head carefully nestled into the crook of his neck.

“Tsk, speak for yourself only,” Astarion teases and Staeve can hear how his husband scrunches up his nose in distaste. But then he unwraps his hand from Staeve’s arm and holds his left right next to the half-drow’s. The colour of his pale skin contrasts nicely against Staeve’s darker tone, but on both hands the gold band is easily what the eye’s drawn to. They glint in the warm light of a nearby lantern.

Astarion’s ring is delicately adorned with garnets, a line of them in different sizes breaking through the simple ring of gold.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Staeve asks with a smile and grabs his husband’s hand before he can protest and starts playing around with Astarion’s ring like he does with his own.

The vampire raises one eyebrow and lets it happen: “Of course they’re beautiful, love. Why do you think I picked them out for us?”

Staeve ignores the playful jab and keeps twisting around the ring on Astarion’s finger, his thumb wandering over the red stones. Amusement sparkles in his teal eyes while Astarion’s red ones are on him.

“They’re beautiful, yes,” Staeve murmurs and then goes to cover his husband’s left lightly with his own, both rings glimmering together in the low light of the darkened room.

“But I meant more what they stand for,” he continues and catches the vampire’s gaze, his eyes softening at his lover.

Then he places Astarion’s hand flatly to his chest, right to his heart space, so he feels the metal on his warm skin. He covers his husband’s ringed hand with his own.

Staeve’s heart swells under their joint hands, his eyes shimmer, smile growing even broader.

“Forever.”

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #fanfiction #astarion x tav #staeve #astarion x staeve #drabble

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justporo · 11 months ago

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Moonbathing

Even though he's nicely settled down with Staeve now there are these moments... Sitting under the bright moon, bathing in the pale silver light, pondering while the cold sinks in - until Staeve comes a long with a big blanket and an even bigger heart.

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: Ehm, surprise!? I wrote this for @velnna as a present. That request today made me think of it again so I figured I'd share it with you. Partially inspired by the epilogue where Astarion tells the player how the last six months made up for so much. Hope you enjoy! @velnna thanks for letting me steal Staeve again! Writing him and Staeve is super fun! <3 Pairing: Astarion/Staeve (You) Warnings: light mention of past trauma Wordcount: 3,5k ~~~

Your night had been spent almost entirely wrapped in each other’s arms. Just like almost every single one of them since most of your messes had been dealt with. No foes were waiting to hold a knife to your throat as soon as the sun climbed up on the horizon anymore (at least for a while you hoped).

The two of you had time now - and your time you would take.

You had enjoyed the moments and times spent with nothing but each other before too, before you’ve had what you considered your happy ending. And there was certainly something to be said about laying down in the arms of your lover when you didn’t know if the next sunrise might bring both of your demise, if not the end of the world altogether. Because - if the world was ending, who wouldn’t want to be held in its final moments?

You could definitely attest that always dancing on the edge of a blade certainly brought its own thrill and held its own intricate beauty.

But the same could be said about this right now: the less loud and less daunting moments. Falling into your soulmate’s embrace freely and of your own volition - nothing pushing you there but the deep desire to be with him and no one else and just revel in each other’s presence.

And the passion and love between Astarion and you was still burning as dangerously hot as it had in the beginning. Apparently, the spark that had been ignited had been incredibly powerful, surprising you both. High flames had sprung from it, all encasing. And you knew that even when the initial flames would settle, the embers would only burn that much hotter.

Never before in your life had you experienced something even remotely close to this. You were certain you would never again. You had found your place, picked the one to gift your heart to. You only had the one anyway.

But there was no need to dwell on such things now.

Blissful exhaustion had softly tugged you towards sleep and you had drifted off to dreamless, restful slumber while the sweat on your skin was still pearling down your neck and your breath and heart were still trying to find a sustainable rhythm again.

When you woke again the first thing you noticed was that the spot next to you was deserted. The second thing you noticed as you looked around while still in sleep drunk stupor was that it was still night. The light sneaking below the thick curtains was still brightly silver - it couldn’t have been that long.

You rolled out of bed lazily, tugged on nothing but pants and made to shuffle out of your joint bedroom in search of your missing vampire.

With your hand on the doorknob you hesitated and threw a look back to the bed. Your eyes wandered over the messed up sheets and bunched up blankets lying there all bunched up. And with a shrug you went back to take one of the blankets to snugly wrap it around your shoulders - the comfort and warmth of a shirt without having to make the effort to put one on. Then you dragged yourself out of the room to go looking for your partner while yawning repeatedly.

It didn’t take you long to find Astarion - you didn’t even have to think about where he might be. He was in the usual spot: the roof that was easily accessible through the attic.

There was a small shuttered window you could easily drag yourself out of and climb onto the shingles before you could enjoy an exquisite view of the city below. It had become a favoured spot for the two of you. Many a bottle of wine had been shared on the edge of this rooftop already.

You needed to be careful to step lightly and distribute your weight evenly to not slip but it was an easy feat for you or Astarion - you both were skilled and practised rogues after all. Effortlessly, you also made it this time even though you had to hold onto the blanket wrapped around you so it wouldn’t slip off your shoulders.

Once outside you were bathed in glistening silver light. The cold, pale hues illuminated everything relentlessly and allowed nearly no darkness during this full moon despite it being in the deep middle of the night.

You immediately spotted the vampire sitting there near the edge of the roof. Not having to worry about the cold at least from a survival standpoint, Astarion had also only put on pants to go and sit on the roof. His legs were dangling off the edge of it while he was leaning back on his arms, staring up at the big full moon in the night sky.

The scene almost reminded you of the times he’d been basking in the sunlight during your adventures. Every possible moment used to soak up the sun - strikingly similar to a cat.

The comparison also sprung to mind now: a lone hunter of the night enjoying a moment of calm at his favourite vantage point in solitude.

But these times were over now, at least as long as you had a say in it. At least for now, Astarion was very much just supposed to be a spoiled house cat, allowed to indulge in all the pleasures that presented themselves.

A smile crept onto your lips as the image crossed your mind. Especially since you knew that the vampire could also be as feisty and irrational as a feline.

Observing the form of your partner outlining against the bright moonlight, you slowly moved over to where he had settled down. You could make out the scars on his back although with no direct light source they almost seemed to blend in with the rest of Astarion’s smooth skin. But you had seen them, observed them so often that the image of the cruel lines on your lover’s back had been permanently burned into your head.

At first they had always startled you badly whenever you saw them despite your efforts to brush over them and not show that you had noticed. If not for your own sake then for Astarion’s. But you had seen them - felt them - frequently now and even though what they meant would always hurt, they were a part like any other of Astarion.

With a few more smooth steps you made your way over and stood next to your partner. You knew he heard you coming despite your roguish stealthiness by the way his head perked up even more. He didn’t even open his eyes though as you stepped up to him. The vampire knew it could only be you - and he trusted you fully. His reaction a testament of how far he’d come since you’d first met.

“Out here catching a cold all by yourself, handsome?”, you asked smugly.

Astarion snorted but you could see a smirk steal onto his face.

“Neither nor apparently, Staeve, my love”, he answered with an amused chuckle and opened his eyes to slowly look at you.

You remained silent, just cocked your head askingly with a raised eyebrow.

“Just - moonbathing”, Astarion continued with a little pause and let his gaze wander from you to the shining full moon again. The cold light was making even the vampire look more pale than usual. His skin and luscious curls almost seemed like they were made out of alabaster like this - a statue crafted out of smooth stone to forever showcase a perfect body and face.

Only his glinting crimson eyes were proof that he was in fact very much a living being - bringing all comparisons to lifeless and soulless figurines to shame. No stonemason could have ever captured his beauty fully anyways.

Astarion's tone had been playful but you knew him so well by now. You realised immediately something was weighing on the mind of your silly little vampire.

But you also knew that trying to coax it out of him would do you no good: he'd only hiss at you in his sassy manner and snap shut like a clam. You had to tread carefully - even more so than on the shingles of this old roof.

“So - maintaining the tan I see”, you took up his banter with a shit-eating grin and carefully sat down beside him now.

The vampire looked at you again and just rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue in disapproval: “You're such an idiot, Staeve.”

You chuckled while you tried to find a comfortable position on the edge of the roof while in the meantime fumbling with your blanket to also throw it around your partner's shoulders so you could comfortably snuggle up together.

“Well, I'd say it's clear you have a thing for idiots, Astarion babe. And now come here.”

That earned you another offended snort as Astarion crossed his arms over his naked chest - almost looking like a child throwing a temper tantrum. But he still willingly let himself be wrapped in one end of the blanket.

Softly you put your arm around him, dragged the pale elf closer until he was able to lean his head on your shoulder. Again he let it happen, this time with a silent sigh.

You could physically feel how the vampire relaxed into your touch and your warmth and how he even snuggled a bit deeper into your joint blanket once you were done fumbling around with it.

His smooth skin felt terribly cold from the frosty winter night. And even though you knew the cold couldn't hurt him you immediately asked yourself why he'd subject himself to this. Freezing temperatures were still very much unpleasant to the vampire as he'd once admitted himself.

Your brows furrowed thinking about why he kept insisting on making it hard on himself. Meanwhile silence stretched out between you as you leaned onto each other, each of you lost deep in thought.

A kind of sadness welled up inside of you while you looked down at Astarion’s head on your shoulder. His eyes were closed once more as he enjoyed the steadiness and peace of your body holding him up and warmth seeping into him.

It was that kind of sadness that was tenacious, that stuck to you, the one you could never fully shake.

You’d fought the necessary battles to both break free. But just as you had your own battles to fight still, so did Astarion. And moments like this one were when you realised it would be a long way still.

Ridding oneself of two centuries of torture and enslavement and all that had come with it was certainly no easy feat. Maybe some shreds would remain forever, stuck to him - just like the scars on his back always would.

Providing comfort, support and love while giving your soulmate all the time and space he needed to shake off the shackles still remaining from the chains that had bound him for so long, was the purpose you wanted to fulfil. As long as you were able to, you would do everything to overcome these other demons that still stayed behind - even if they might prove much more difficult to take down than the literal ones.

The two of you just sat there in silence while you felt how Astarion became warmer under your touch, the blanket providing a comfortable cocoon for the both of you.

You didn’t speak, just enjoyed the cosiness and let your partner dwell in the warmth until he was ready to speak his mind.

Leaning your head on Astarion’s, you enjoyed how his soft white curls tickled your face and neck. Then you closed your eyes as well and simply basked under the giant, radiant moon, the light easily shining even through your lids.

The silver moon beams were beautiful if not even magical. And sitting there, it was almost possible to mistake them for daylight.

But they would never be able to substitute for the golden warmth of sun rays because there was one determining thing missing: warmth.

Giving yourself to the illusion was nice though - even if it lasted only for a few moments.

And as you sat there, an arm around Astarion who was still relaxing more into your touch, you wanted nothing more but to be this source of comfort - to possibly provide but a fraction of what he’d been forced to give up.

The sadness from before was right there again - slowly closing up your throat as you silently opened your eyes and let them linger on the pale elf once more. The moon was still casting him in his unforgiving light, making him look almost translucent - something that might crack and break if you weren’t careful enough with it.

“You miss the sun”, you said. Not even a question. And what a stupid thing to even say you immediately realised after the words had left your lips.

You expected a snarky joke, a click of the tongue, maybe even a hurtful comment. But it didn’t come.

Instead, Astarion next to you straightened his back and took a deep breath in. His eyes were open now and a million miles away as he gazed off into the distance towards the city and somewhere far down the Chionthar glinting under the night sky.

“I do miss the sun”, he replied to what hadn’t been a question in the first place. His voice was surprisingly firm and somehow you felt slightly unsettled by that.

“But I lost that once before - how hard can the second time around be?”, Astarion continued and his red eyes snapped to yours.

You didn’t know what to answer so you just lightly squeezed his shoulder. The vampire’s eyes didn’t leave yours. His gaze was firm, maybe even proud. Your brows furrowed lightly - you had absolutely no idea where all this was going.

“Staeve”, Astarion began while looking you firmly in the eyes “the last six months with you have been the happiest of my life.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. Of all the things that you could have expected you surely hadn’t expected something like this. The negative feelings that had been squeezing your heart in your ribcage immediately subsided and gave way to waves of gentle happiness flooding through you. And you couldn’t stop the small but growing smile that was spreading from left to right over your face.

But the vampire wasn’t even done.

“What was before - it’s already beginning to fade. It already feels like aeons ago - and that’s because of you”, Astarion continued and the way he looked at you with eyes so open and wide, genuine smile on his lips - it made your chest clench in a completely different way. Your eyes started burning dangerously at the edges and you had to press your lips into a line to keep them from quivering. But you forced yourself to keep gazing at your soulmate’s face.

But it was he who turned away after a few long moments. A sudden rush of guilt and sorrow glazing over the open admiration and vulnerability from before. His crimson eyes sought out the moon again.

“But I fear-”, Astarion’s voice almost broke as he spoke again. He lowered his gaze. Your heart took a leap - not eager on wanting to hear what he might have to add but also not wanting to stay unknowing.

The vampire sighed, then he cleared his throat, still not looking at you: “I’m not used to caring for the wellbeing of others. I mean, for centuries I didn’t even have my own.”

He stopped again, took in another breath - sharp this time. Then faced you again.

“I fear my own selfish happiness has taken away from yours”, Astarion spoke firmly again now. But you noticed the way he was straining his chin to hold it proudly. This was taking more out of him than he wanted you to notice.

You opened your mouth to protest but the pale elf shushed you with a sharp motion of his hand. He had to get it all out now or it might never be said.

“And I feel like - one of us having to give up the sun is more than enough. I don’t” - the words were hurting to get out, you realised, but they were also hurting while being uttered - “I don’t want to put another through that. Or - no! I don’t want to put you through it, Staeve.”

And with that Astarion’s hand sunk back down again and he looked up at the night sky again, closing his eyes once more with a small strained yelp. You could see his Adam's apple work hard in his throat as you took in his side profile while the words needed to register with you.

You paid close attention to his exquisite features while your brain tried desperately to make sense of what you had just heard: his straight, aristocratic nose, sharp cheekbones highlighted even more by sharp light, full, soft lips over which a tongue nervously flitted. You knew this face so well by now, probably better than your own. When you closed your eyes you could easily conjure up his image, down to the last little detail.

And while you let your gaze wander over his lashes and the vampire’s face was still lifted to the heavens with furrowed brows, his meaning clicked into place for you. And with horrifying clarity you realised what had been said: the bastard was trying to give you an out.

The mere idea was wild to you. No wonder it had taken you several heartbeats to even catch on. This hadn’t even been in your realm of possibilities. And you were sad that obviously it was for him.

There was pressure in your chest again - this night really took a toll on your emotions. But you wouldn’t let it end on a note like this.

“Astarion”, you said quickly after. The vampire didn’t move, his brows only furrowed deeper.

“Astarion, love, look at me”, you begged and stretched out your hand to hook your thumb on his chin and turn his head to you.

He only let it happen reluctantly but he looked at you, pain filling his eyes - and fear.

But there was absolutely no reason for that. You’d prove it to him. There wasn’t even a slither of doubt in your heart.

“I am here, Astarion, because I chose so. I am here, because I love you. Giving up the sun is nothing compared to what it would be like to give up you”, you said eagerly, your tongue almost stumbling over itself while trying to get this out as fast as possible, to bridge this gap and never look back on it again.

You tugged on the vampire’s face to press your forehead to his as you said the following words: “I love you, Astarion. Don’t ever dare to think you can get rid of me. You’re stuck with me now, idiot!”

And then you kissed him, forcefully, and hopefully drowning out all forms of question or protest. Positively smothering him with your love until there was no more doubt - at least for this night.

Only after what felt like forever did Astarion withdraw from your kiss. There was no more pain in his eyes although you still saw slithers of insecurity remain. You swore to yourself you’d get them another time. But at least you felt that things were firmly settled for the night.

A small sniffle from you broke the tender silence between you as you kept gazing at each other. It seemed like the burning in your eyes from before had been a little much to contain. Your nose felt overly stuffy all of a sudden.

But at least the delicate mood had turned again to something that felt more mundane - and less heartbreaking.

“Gods, you’re not crying are you?” Astarion commented teasingly, nose slightly scrunched up. But the smile that curled one side of his mouth quickly afterwards was still rather gentle.

You snorted while you quickly and grossly wiped at your eyes and your nose with a corner of the blanket. “No, the moon is just very bright”, you muttered with another sniffle then shook yourself - almost like an animal trying to get something off itself. Then you felt more like yourself again.

“Well, you better get used to it then, darling, if you’re so keen to be stuck with me”, was the last thing the vampire said before he snuggled himself up against you again, leaning his head onto your shoulder once more.

You had nothing to add. You were just happy that two of you were here in this moment. So you just tightened your hold on Astarion.

And together you watched the night sky, cuddled up in the blanket, until the edges of darkness started blushing in the lightest shades of pink and it was time for you to crawl into bed together again.

Taglist (DM if you want to be added please): @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06 @marina-and-the-memes

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justporo · 3 months ago

Text

A Scorching Letter

Brimsterton | A Staevstarion Regency AU

PREVIOUS PART | MASTERLIST | AO3

A/N: Yes hello, I know I haven't posted something I wrote in quite a while. Let's just say I've been busy, but mostly behind the scenes. This however I had written quite a while ago (end of June I think) and I need to get back into the saddle again with posting. So here we are, another trip into Regency AU with @velnna's beloved Staeve (thanks as always for letting me stick him in a costume) and Astarion. Picking off where we left off after the chaise longue incident.

Summary: With a lot mixed feelings after what almost happened between them, a scorching letter is written that reveals genuine truths and brilliant emotions. But the response might not have been what either of them had hoped for...

Pairing: Astarion/Staeve Wordcount: 5,1k Warnings: light implied nsfw

-----

Hands hastily tore open an envelope. On it, in elegant cursive handwriting that couldn’t be mistaken for anyone but Astarion’s, a name was written, boldly and with gold ink even: Staeve Brimstone.

Shivering fingers took several pages from the torn away paper and unfolded them. Immediately, it was visible that the letter had been written with a plethora of intense emotions: some parts seemed barely readable as if the pen had scarcely made its way across the paper in hesitancy. Others were quite obviously written with such vigour, that the sheets were almost torn and stained with blots of ink from a pen that had been pressed too harshly and hastily onto the paper - way too eager to get out the words.

The hands holding onto the letter kept trembling as the letter was studied. It read:

“My dearly beloved Staeve,

It seems we’ve gotten ourselves in quite the compromising position, haven’t we?Apparently, we do have a knack for this kind of thing, don’t you agree? It is nothing new for either of us, truly. How often have we gotten in trouble for something over the years? Quite frankly it might be a big part of the reason why my parents will finally be sending me off to the continent. I figure they fear what two - now grown - young men could get themselves into. And wouldn’t they be right?

A million times have we conspired together. A million plans. A million times it was us against the world. Together.

To our own surprise we haven’t always been discovered. But then again too often than we would have hoped. And yet we have always gotten out of a cornered situation.

This time it is different though.

I take it your sister hasn’t taken notice of what has happened that night. Or it might be that she doesn’t care - I was never able to read her well. And I do not dare to push her on the matter.

What could have happened had we been discovered in that moment? Truly discovered?

But to be quite frank that isn’t what I am concerned with. Not if I am being honest with myself.

You know I am a man of few regrets, Staeve. But I do regret having left like I did that fateful night. My mind kept whispering malicious things to me while my chest was burning, set ablaze by you and your lips. My heart was prepared to scream it all from the rooftops. But yet my anxious mind had me flee like lest we be found out.

But yet my heart keeps burning, the flames impossible to smother. I promise you I’ve tried. Only to find them flickering higher, brighter, hotter, whenever I tried.

And it has been hard to calm it for even just a moment since that fateful night on that chaise longue.

In the end, it has won over my mind even quicker than I thought as I still feel my chest burn with every single beat of my yearning heart. This is what my mind has been toiling with. This and the enticing idea of what would have happened had we not been disturbed, this impossible game of “what if”.

Would we have lost ourselves within each other, unravelled by our hands and touches. Would we have been void of words with only our bodies to speak the yet unspoken? Would we have gone all the way into oblivion together torn and then reformed together. And all to only be unravelled again and again until there had been nothing left but strings?

Strings we might have been able to have knitted into something new, something thoroughly intertwined?

Only the heavens may know.”

The words at the end of this page were thin; anxiously so. The author’s worries and fears clear already by how the words seemed to trail off at the bottom. In hopes perhaps, that they could just be shaken off the page lest they fall on deaf ears.

The next fresh page though started with bold writing again, even bolder than before. The written words proud, tall and unashamed:

“But I do know this: at night I lay unable to sleep with that blistering desire inside of me, slowly scorching me from the inside out. And when the heat becomes near unbearable, I lay there with nothing but the moon as a witness, touching myself while imagining - hoping - it was you. My hands wandering down over my own body and finding pleasure so easily and quickly - so intense - as they stroke and caress. Simply because it is you in my mind. The thought of you nearly enough to lose myself time and again.

I know I am a sinner for this, for my thoughts and my actions. But could a sin truly feel this heavenly? If this is what hell feels like, I will let it take me, gladly. I would welcome doom with open arms for just my actions, but truly, I’d much rather be doomed together with you, Staeve.

The feeling of your mouth on mine has been imprinted on me. I cannot forget it. I will die with the memory of your soft lips on mine on my mind as the last breath leaves my earthly body.

You've touched me a thousand times - a hug, a tap, a taunt - but not like this. Never like this. Not with that enticing intention, not with that need: giving, pleasing but also taking - possibly all of me. And if I’m being true and honest to myself: I would give you all of myself - body, mind and soul. You may take it all!

Do you feel the same? Because even writing this letter I feel how restless my fingers are, how they itch to touch you again as well, how they need to feel you again: your lithe body, the skin of your face, your silken hair.

I just want to feel the warmth of you again, enveloping me, your body moving against mine as we fall together, endlessly.

And when your hands know me by heart, I want to feel your mouth all over my skin, tasting me before swallowing my confessions to you directly from my very own lips and tongue.

I want you to know me as deeply as no one has before. I fear no one else could ever understand me like you do anyways. And I hope, dearly, this is what you want too. I surely know it’s what I want with you: knowing you inside and out, better than myself.

Back in that moment it surely felt like that.

But memories are fleeting, fickle little things. Already I am questioning if I really saw the same yearning in your eyes I keep feeling in my very soul. But then again, it's not like this only transpired yesterday, hasn't it? Hasn’t this all been brewing for what feels like an eternity?”

Up until this paragraph the writing had been bold, the elegant cursive letters leaning so far it was easily distinguishable that they had been written without pause. Words that had been too powerful to not let out.

But those next ones were more hesitant again. The pen had been pressed down to start many a time and then hastily taken off again, judging by how several blots and scratches of ink clouded the first letter of the next sentence.

But in the end even these words had found their way - either way:

“I reckon you know the feeling in the atmosphere before a thunderstorm approaches - when the tension is so dense it makes your hairs rise up. When the whole world seems to hold its breath, awaiting the inevitable.

Aren’t we just like that? Awaiting what deep down we have known for so long?

Aren’t we inevitable?

How long have we been like this? In that terrible limbo of potential and not yet made resolution?

Only for it to unload in but a blink of an eye, lightning hitting us both, scorching us through and through, down to our furthest depths - setting us brightly ablaze where light has never even reached before.

There is no way in which we could ever proceed, pretending as if we both haven’t been changed forever in this moment, changed at our innermost core - wouldn’t you agree?

At times I fear that all it would have taken was that one night. One night of scorching flames to then see the fire smothered. This - us - nothing but a quick intermezzo, a short crescendo that is quickly muffled and not to be heard again.

But whenever I think I’ve forgotten about this, about you, for a just moment, there it is again: the thought of you, impossible to get out of my head.

You are always there with me, Staeve, with every breath and every step.

You didn’t just light a candle inside of me, you started a wildfire.

And I welcome it - with all the heat, all the power, all the destruction it might bring but also the all encompassing warmth it might spend. I welcome it to be consumed by it!”

Before the final words of the letter there was generous space left. Quite obviously the author felt the need to let his final words take up room. The final conclusion to the letter read:

“I am in love with you, Staeve Brimstone.

I am in love with you - and looking back it feels like I have always been in love with you. From the moment I first laid eyes upon you up to the my last moments on this earth.

And even more than that: I need you. I fear I cannot live without you.

And even though it might be selfish - but we both know that I am -: I hope you need me too.

I hope to love you, Staeve, forevermore. And if I’m fortunate enough, that you will love me too.

Forever yours,

Astarion”

As eyes ran over the last page, the hands holding the letter had begun to tremble. They were gripping the paper so hard by now that knuckles showed white.

Then when the end had been reached they were shaking so much no word could have been made out anymore. The grip was crinkling up the paper now. Up until the pages were deliberately being crumpled angrily, pressed into a ball of paper, letters and emotions alike forced into an indiscernible mess.

With a few steps only, the way was made to the lit fireplace and the pages were given to the flames. The fire eagerly licked at the papers, ate it up until there was nothing left of the words and the long suppressed feelings they had finally expressed.

~~~

The Brimstone family had sat down for dinner. Or at least for their approximation of it. Viscount and Viscountess Brimstone were idly enjoying their dinner talking a bit of business, politics and gossip. Meanwhile, their son Staeve was more enticed by the workings of a small golden mechanical beetle his father had brought him as a souvenir from one of his business trips than by the meagre meal of roasted pork and vegetables he’d thrown onto his plate as more of an afterthought. The sleeves of his white linen shirt were rolled up to his elbows as he had discarded his doublet long ago to be able to move better and one of his suspenders threatened to give up on its job as it was dropping off his shoulder in his hunched over position. He had wholly reengineered what dinner time meant for him, much to the grievance of his parents. But dozens of tries to change first the boy’s and then the young man’s behaviour had failed. So at some point they had given up as long as he knew to behave when guests were over and was still honouring the family gathering times.

That usually meant that he was at least present during family dinner times, physically at least. But he’d only eat later, once it had all gotten cold. And then would sneak into the kitchen to grab seconds when he would have realised once more that tinkering around didn’t sate his bodily hunger. At least not enough.

His mother had long given up on trying to teach Staeve manners. When he had been a child she had been sure he would grow out of it. But once she had realised that his quirks had only been growing with him, she’d come to realise that it was for the best to just leave him be and hope for the best.

Only occasionally did she still try to enforce his older sister Nita as a role model to him. It never worked.

So, as Staeve was fumbling with his current project and his parents were lost in conversation, his sister Nita - void of any option to make dinner time pass any faster with her parents talking and her brother with his mind elsewhere - moved around some asparagus on her gold rimmed plate and wished she could’ve found an excuse to go eat with her younger siblings in the kitchen. Even they would have been a more ample entertainment discussing their playtime or perhaps their current tutor lessons.

That was until she thought of a way of hopefully grabbing Staeve’s attention for more than a fleeting moment.

“So, Staeve, have you found something to do yet, something to cope?”

Her brother’s tuft of green hair lifted shortly from where it had been bent over the small, intricately built beetle and some similarly delicate tool with which Staeve meant to dismantle the small object - thereby probably irreparably destroying it.

But the younger Brimstone shortly looked at his sister in irritation. Then his gaze snapped back to his hands and his workings and he began tinkering again.

“What?”

Nita rolled her eyes. “You know you are supposed to use full sentences, right?”

“Whoever has the time for that?”

“Ah see, he does speak in full sentences.”

Staeve grunted at his sister’s sarcasm but didn’t reward her with another glance.

Nita tried again.

“So have you?”

“I don’t think that was a full sentence.”

She was about ready to throw her fork at him, hoping it would drive the audacity right out of him - or at least take an eye. For a moment she debated just letting the silence draw out. But honestly she hadn’t been the one starting to be petty.

“You know, Staeve, I really get why even Astarion has decided to suddenly leave town when you’re being such a prick!” Nita almost shouted. That even had caught her parents’ attention now who immediately scolded her for her unladylike demeanour and choice of words.

She pouted, annoyed at how she had been the one being called out now instead of her brother.

And when she turned her head around again to throw him an angry glare she suddenly found she had finally caught his attention. Maybe even a bit too much of it because Staeve was now staring at her, eyes wide, face void of colour.

“What do you mean Astarion is leaving?”

Nita was about to snap at him again. But something in her brother’s gaze and his sudden stillness made her abandon the thought immediately.

“Didn’t- didn’t he tell you? I thought you always knew everything about each other.”

Immediately hurt flashed through Staeve’s teal eyes, too irritated to even try to hide it.

“Leaving when? Why?” Staeve’s voice was nothing more but a croak. A strand of hair had fallen into his eyes. He didn’t even bother pushing it out of his face.

Suddenly Nita felt unsure of what to do. Unsettled by her brother’s sudden burst of emotions. The only thing she came up with was snapping at him again.

“The Grand Tour, you idiot, what else.”

Staeve’s eyes widened even more. He set the small golden beetle and his tool down with a distinct thud, so hard, it even made their parents become silent and turn to their children in irritation.

“When?” Staeve simply followed up again. His words were terribly silent all of a sudden. Nita didn’t have it in her anymore to try and purposefully try and upset her brother. She threw a glance at the big mechanical clock - one of the few Staeve hadn’t disassembled yet: “I think right about now. They’re probably going to travel all through the night to catch a ship in the morning at one of the great harbours.”

Staeve didn’t wait for Nita to finish her sentence. He jumped up, almost making his chair fall over, staring at the clock. Their parents’ heads swivelled around trying to understand the cause of the commotion. But their son was already storming out of the room, not even sparing their scolding and quizzical looks another thought.

Immediately, Staeve made his way through the manor and down to the stables. As he rushed along servants, through a plethora of rooms and finally got outside, he realised that the weather was about to turn: an early summer evening threatening to bring a foreshadowing of yet far away autumn. The oncoming storm, announcing itself with distant thunder and dramatically darkening clouds, though, only felt like a fitting backdrop for what was brewing inside of him.

Questions filled Staeve’s mind as he made his way, and worries - and memories.

Every moment for the last couple of weeks since that fateful night had he basically been thinking about what happened. It only ever took him a split second to conjure up the scene again in his head: the last couple of breaths in which he had stared into Astarion’s eyes and how it had felt like he could see through them right to the bottom of his friend’s heart, the burning feeling of Astarion’s lips against his own and this desiring ache within him, physically and emotionally, threatening to rip him apart from the inside out.

He had been so sure Astarion had felt the same. And hadn’t his friend been the one looking up at him with such pleading in his crimson eyes, lips already parted in anticipation before they had met halfway?

But maybe Staeve was remembering it all wrong. He certainly must be. Why else would his lifelong companion leave him now unannounced?

Loads of feelings were forming up inside his chest, waiting to burst - like thunder after lightning had struck in the far off distance.

Staeve made his way to the stables to grab Freckle while his mind was somewhere completely else. He didn’t even stop to put a saddle or reins on her. A terrible premonition told him he hadn’t any time to waste. And the mare was used to being ridden like this, after all they were a well-practised team.

The young Brimstone led his horse outside and immediately felt raindrops seeping through his thin linen shirt and trousers. He couldn’t have cared less. Wasting no more time he jumped onto his mare’s back and with a click of his tongue and soft nudge from his boots they were off in a dash, cutting through the oncoming rain.

As Staeve thundered down the small trodden out road from the Brimstone estate towards the Ancuníns’ residence the rain turned from just a trickle to a pour - the kind that would turn grasslands into swamps for a good while after and dust roads into murky rivers. His mind was racing at an even more outrageous speed as the gigantic manor of his friend’s family came into view.

Lifting his head while holding onto Freckle’s mane as the horse felt his owner’s urgency and gave him her all, Staeve searched for the familiar sight of that one particular window with a light on inside, hoping it would betray his sister’s words. The one where Astarion often already had been peeking out of in wait for his companion to come by. The one where they had sat countless of times, talking, laughing, smoking some stolen cigars and choking on the burning smoke when they had been only boys.

But the lights were off.

And Staeve’s fears turned into all encompassing panic as he closed in on the giant building as he didn’t dare to let himself hope anymore. The rain around him had him fully drenched by now, his loose shirt clinging wetly to his body. Already he felt hot tears adding to the uncomfortably cold rain running down his face.

When he finally came around the manor, he found nothing but an ill-fated stable hand rushing through the downpour, perhaps tasked with a few last things before being allowed to flee the bad weather. Not even hesitating Staeve rode up right next to him making the poor boy shriek and stumble back from the horse making the gravel fly with a sliding stop.

“Astarion Ancunín?” he only managed to scream against the rain.

The boy just stared up at him, obviously too startled at the sight of Staeve like this. He probably looked like a madman. And he felt like one: not properly dressed, drenched to the bone on his equally aggregated steed. Even more so the more time he spent chasing down a man in this storm who so obviously tried to get away from him without him knowing.

But he needed to see him, at least a final time. One more try.

“The Duke’s son?” Staeve shouted again at the stable hand. And finally the boy seemed to have recovered from his stupor.

“Left. With his father the Duke, in the fancy carriage,” the answer came back, shouted against another thunder in the distance - the heart of the storm was coming closer.

Staeve’s chest clenched. Freckle became nervous beneath him. Even a well trained horse like her didn’t want to be out longer than needed in this weather. But just a moment more.

“When?” he screamed.

“Dunno exactly, couple of minutes, just when the storm started.”

Staeve needn’t hear more. Time was of the essence now. He spurred on his horse once more and left the befuddled boy behind who even forgot to finally rush inside and instead stared after Staeve racing off again.

The roads were already muddy, an endless amount of puddles strewn across them while Staeve made the decision to go for the hill overlooking the Ancunín lands, the one with the weeping willow. There he’d be able to see how far out they were already on the country road leading away from town.

But when he arrived at the foot of said hill and dashed on with Freckle, his horse slipped and almost took a tumble. And since his or his horse’s broken neck surely wouldn’t make him be any faster, Staeve slid off his mare’s back and continued on foot.

The rain kept pouring onto him as he rushed up the hill, his booted feet sinking into the wet ground. Several times he almost took a tumble when his boots sank in too deep. Illustrious curses that would have made his mother blush and his father scold him, left Staeve’s lips as he ran up the grassy hill as fast as possible, barely able to see anything anymore with the rain slashing his face. He didn’t even notice how the freezing cold crept into his body, his limbs, how his fingers began to become stiff. His whole body was shaking, as much from the cold and the wet, as from the feelings still burning inside his chest - the only thing still spending a bit of warmth.

Staeve reached the top of the hill and the weeping willow atop of it - honouring its name as rain kept dripping generously off its tendrils. Trying to wipe at least some of the rain out of his face and panting heavily from running, Staeve’s eyes flew along the road leading out of town, willing the carriage to be there, so he’d know he could still catch them. Or at least a glimpse, of him. To at least wave a last goodbye. Because he didn’t know when - if - his friend would ever return.

And he spotted the carriage. Right there, at the very end of what Staeve could make out. Just before it disappeared around a final turn of the road - and out of sight.

~~~

Inside the carriage Astarion was craning his neck only a little to see Ancunín manor slowly disappear behind the lazily sloping hills of the countryside as the wagon rattled along the road leading away from town. Now the ancient weeping willow was the last familiar landmark before the road would lead them along faceless fields and forests rushing past them, only there to be forgotten again in an instance. The storm was doing its part to make Astarion’s last impression of his home even more dull: clouds and the rain almost washing all of the colours out of this final sight.

This might very well have been the only time in his life when his heart actually ached at the thought of leaving home - or rather him.

Only a few weeks ago had he hoped to spend an incredible last summer with Staeve, his childhood friend. Especially as he had been sure of something new budding between them, something that could have meant them being more than companions possibly. Something that either might have been honestly terrified to explore. They could have gone down this road together.

But it seemed that instead of choosing this final adventure and what treasures and secrets might have been ahead, Staeve had chosen utter and complete silence. To his letter as much as his departure. Astarion had been unable to figure out what to make of it.

However, wasn’t the absence of an answer a response of its own?

Questions, regrets, fear and hurt were all swirling around inside of Astarion’s chest as he feigned indifference staring out the small window the rain kept drumming on. He was covering most of his face with his hand turned away from the other passenger in hopes it would make him look bored and hide his frown - and more than anything, the tears burning dangerously in the corners of his eyes.

Writing that letter, taking a leap of faith had taken nearly all of his courage.

When that kiss had happened after that invaded soiree, it had been easy. Fueled by the evening, laughter and lots of liquid courage it had been easy to fall into Staeve’s arms. It had been easy to be open about what had been building up inside of him for so long.

But writing this letter stone cold sober had been near impossible: opening up about everything that, all his life, he had been taught to keep hidden behind his orderly closed button border, tugged away behind a starched collar closed so firmly it made one choke. Admitting to desires that would make him a wretched sinner in the eyes of his family and society. And finally confessing his feelings to his lifelong friend, risking everything they’ve had. It had been taxing, hard, painful.

And in the end, apparently, he had paid the price.

In front of him, the Duke Ancunín kept talking about their travelling plans while Astarion could feel his heart get torn into pieces the further away from home they travelled. A piece of it begging to be allowed to stay.

“Son, it is a great honour that Monsignore Constantin will take you in for a few extra weeks as his disciple. He is very strict but he is the best,” the Duke repeated his words in a sharper tone when he noticed his son not paying attention. “He will make an upright man out of you, Astarion, I know it.”

“Oh, will he? I can barely wait,” Astarion replied with bitter sarcasm in his voice. His father, in response, was near boiling with anger at his son’s insolent behaviour.

“He has his methods, son, you will see. He will let none of your nonsense slip, I will make sure of it!” The Duke’s words cracked like a whip. But the young man didn’t care, his eyes were still trained on the outside, on the weeping willow becoming smaller in the distance. He didn’t honour his father’s wrath with another response.

The carriage filled with nothing but the sound of drumming rain and thunder rolling ever closer. When the older Ancunín apparently realised his anger would get him nowhere he tried a different route of grasping his son’s attention.

“Hasn’t the young Brimstone come to say his goodbyes to you, my son? Is that why you keep brooding?”

Astarion’s gaze snapped to his father, immediately betraying that he had spoken the truth. He felt how his brows drew together as pain flared up in his chest even more. Trying to get it back under control quickly he looked back outside the window as the carriage shook along the road in worsening conditions.

But his father had cracked right open what had been bothering him and finally Astarion gave up on trying to hide. What did it matter now anyways? The cards had been dealt.

The young Ancunín let his hands fall into his lap but kept looking outside as he felt how the tears in his eyes threatened to become overbearing.

“He hasn’t actually,” Astarion admitted. “In fact, I haven’t seen him in a few weeks. Not since I’ve sent him a letter a while ago,” he continued, voice flat and emotionless.

“A letter? How uncommon for the two of you,” the Duke threw in with a tinge of irony coating his words like bile. In a knee jerk reaction Astarion’s crimson gaze burned in anger at his father’s vile words. But in the end he wasn’t wrong. The young noble resorted to throwing a last glance upon the willow up on the hill.

“Come to think of it though, my son, I do remember seeing the letter,” the Duke rambled on. “And I remember handing it over to the butler so it may get delivered quickly.” Astarion turned away a little further once more from his father as he felt his composure threatening to break fully. “A difference of opinions maybe?,” his father finished.

Astarion didn’t see the slight tilt of the corners of his father’s mouth as he let the words roll off his tongue, not hiding his distaste for the young Brimstone.

The young Ancunín only could feel the final nail being put into the coffin with his father’s final words. His last string of hope he had been holding onto snapped in two just like that.

“Possibly,” Astarion simply replied, kneading his hands in his lap, emotions threatening to overwhelm him fully.

“Maybe even more than that,” he added after a while as he finally let his gaze fall from the last sight of his hometown.

Had he averted his eyes just a moment later he would have made out the figure of a dark-skinned, green-haired young man appearing beneath the weeping willow in the storm. But like this, thunder cracked as the carriage took a turn and Astarion’s home and his lifelong friend went out of sight.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #fanfiction #staeve #astarion x staeve #bg3 #brimsterton #staevstarion #regency AU

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justporo · 1 year ago

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Swashbuckling (Shipless)

Staeve and Astarion are captains of hostile pirate crews - one infamous and well feared, the other... rather chaotic but not any less passionate. When Staeve and his crew are in dire need of a new ship, he takes it upon himself to steal one and comes face to face with his nemesis Astarion once more. And no one can know that they not only have a history with crossing their swords - but also something more...

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: I... listen... I hadn't planned to write a pirate AU this week, but here we are. I brought an idea up on @velnnas server and then dear Tange pushed me to go ahead and actually write it - so I sat down and wrote this in like eight hours. Some others from this wonderful community threw in some more points and inspo (e.g. the ship name Absolute). So, @velnna, this is once more for you, thank you for being such an inspiration with your wonderful character (and letting me drag him out to sea)! And thanks also to the wonderful community on discord!

Pairing: Astarion/Staeve (You, male reader) Warnings: some violence, some mutual pining, bit of past traume (if you squint) Wordcount: 5,5k

Song: Jack Sparrow - Klaus Badelt

~~~

Your crew really had need for a new ship. Not only had the old one gotten way too small for your thankfully ever growing group - but it also stank, was just generally old - oh, and it had sunk recently.

Luckily, you had been very close to the biggest port on the coast when that had happened. And somehow all of you had made it the dinghy - even the crew’s loyal dog, Scratch.

Now you had nothing but the clothes on your back - which also kinda stank and were just generally really old: the floppy but comfy leather boots (albeit very wet), leather pants accessorised with multiple belts and the strip of red cloth tied firmly around your hips. And then of course your trusty sabre and dagger carelessly sheathed on some of those belts and your - as usual - wide open and very dirty linen shirt that always worked wonders whenever you were in trouble or just desperately bartering with someone. And it had at least guaranteed you a few nights in one of the taverns after you’d sufficiently charmed the barmaid - which, looking like a bunch of wet dogs, had really been a feat to be proud of.

Oh, and not to forget: you at least still had your ancient tricorne with you - how would anyone know you were a pirate without the proper headgear?

But that, unfortunately, was all you still had to your name. At least that hadn’t sunk with the ship too. It still pained you though that you couldn’t even rightfully call yourself a captain anymore.

But at least if you were shipless and in desperate need of a new vessel, being in a big port was the best thing to happen to you, right? You had a free pick out of everything anchored here.

Of course you had no money, but you were pirates after all. You wouldn’t have intended to pay for it even on a better day. Piracy must be good for something after all.

The last couple of days you and your crew had somehow pulled through while you had taken the time to reorganise and garner some information about the current ships anchoring here. Or to put it plainly: find a time, a place and a target to steal a ship and be on your merry way again.

And now finally, the time had come to set your plan in motion.

It was deep in the night, security at the port was rather light around this time - fools - and the moon was your only real witness as you snuck inconspicuously around the docks towards your target: the Absolute.

A smaller but fine ship. Of course nowhere comparable to the big, flamboyant navy or even other pirate’s ships. Not as excessively decorated with gold covered carvings or intricately crafted lanterns upon it and no dozens of canons to be manned.

But from what you had figured out your pick was to be quick, reliant and most of all: intact. And that already had made you more excited than you would have cared to admit.

You were alone now as you made your way along the final dock towards your target, your crew waiting somewhere outside the city already. And that might have sounded like a really bad idea - and maybe it was. But it was much easier to get away with stealing a ship if you were alone.

And that was yet another advantage of the Absolute: at that size it was fairly manageable alone, at least for a while. Of course your crew had protested, but you had been the reason they’d ended up sinking in the first place. So you felt it was your responsibility to get yourself and everyone else out of this and back on the open sea again. And of course your plan was reckless and stupid and there was a fair chance you’d be caught and thrown into a cell. But what else was new?

You found your target and immediately went to undo all the ropes holding it ashore. When only the anchor held the ship in place you found the spot closest to the net hanging down the side of the ship. You took a few steps back, as far as the dock would allow. You closed your eyes for a moment and lifted your head towards the sky.

This was probably going to end badly. But now you were deep into it anyway.

“Alright, Staeve, time to make a captain out of you again”, you muttered to yourself and then took a running leap to jump and grab hold of the net.

You crashed so hard against the side of the boat that you almost knocked yourself out, but at least you managed to grab hold of some rope. Strands of your long hair were suddenly falling into your face as your trusty tricorn almost fell off but you managed to grab it in time and push it down your head again.

You quickly climbed up and jumped over the railing as silently as possible. Light security didn’t mean there wasn’t any security at all. But it seemed you were in the clear, so you looked around what was supposed to be your new home for you and your crew.

Taking in everything on the deck you quickly found where you could hoist the anchor.

After having dealt with that the ship was already swaying much more on the light waves. You only had to set some sails and start steering it out of the port. This was a walk in the park!

Immediately a voice inside you screamed at you that that usually meant you were moments away from absolute disaster. But for now there was no disaster in sight, right?

With a lot more confidence now you swaggered over to the steering wheel, wanting to prepare your course before the opened sails would immediately drag the ship into another anchored vessel and make it crash. You had barely recovered from one sunken ship, you would not risk another.

You grabbed hold of the steering wheel from the back as it came into your reach, dragged and… nothing happened. You tried again - still nothing.

With a frown you walked around the big wooden wheel. Nothing looked wrong with it, so you grabbed two opposite ends once more and desperately tried to turn. The wheel wouldn’t budge an inch.

Just a tiny bit of panic started to rise within you. Your inner voice snapped at your sarcastically for dismissing it. Your plan couldn’t fail just because you were too weak to turn a godsdamned steering wheel, could it? Furrowing your brows you looked around the damned thing. And after a few long moments of staring at it in confusion and helplessness finally found a small brass contraption beneath it with a small keyhole that seemed to hold everything in place.

“You gotta be kidding me, they’re putting locks on these things now?”, you scream-whispered to yourself and dragged your hat over your face for a moment. “Piracy will die out if that is how things are developing.”

You really needed a good drink if you’d actually manage to pull this off. A big one too. Maybe several even. Hopefully they had stored some liquor somewhere on this thing.

But first you had to find the key

Taking a wild guess, you figured the captain’s cabin would be your best bet. So trying to regain some of your former confidence you turned around and took the few steps over to the dark wooden door that would lead you there.

You laid your hand on the door handle and just for a tiny moment hesitated. All in all, this was all still very easy; too easy almost for your liking. Your inner critic confirmed once more that things were probably about to go sideways.

But then you just shrugged and threw open the door. Expecting complete darkness inside, you were thrown off by the warm, golden light that greeted you. Candles and lanterns were lit throughout the room. Your brows immediately furrowed.

And much more than by the lights you were completely shocked by the man sitting there in the captain’s spot in front of the navigator’s desk in a tall chair turned towards the door. Legs clad in shiny black boots were lazily draped over one of the armrests. He was finely dressed in a red and gold satin doublet with intricate stitching and black leather pants. Of course a rapier was also dangling from his hip and the tip nearly touched the ground.

But he had not gone for a hat. In fact, he never had. It would only have ruined his perfect, luscious white curls as he had always insisted. And he didn’t need one in the first place to have anyone know that he was the most infamous, feared and most dangerous pirate captain on this part of the coast.

Instead as his final accessory he was wearing that smirk you knew and still remembered so damn well, one side of his mouth curled up arrogantly while his red eyes perpetually seemed to tease you. It was that smirk you kept dreaming about when you were honest with yourself. But it was also what you were loathing with a burning passion.

It had made you do things before. Things you were either not proud of or just outright tried to forget. And you couldn’t use that right now.

“Hello Staeve, my darling!”, the man said in a tone dripping with sinful promise and playful threat.

You had been expected.

“Astarion”, you simply managed while your hand immediately wandered towards your sheathed sabre.

Several big rings on Astarion’s long, elegant fingers clinked against the metal chalice as he drank from it. Probably red wine from what you knew about him.

He took his sweet time to respond to you, slowly and languidly letting one of his legs swing back and forth. Obviously, one of you was not in a big rush.

Meanwhile all you could do was stand there and let uneasiness rise up in you. Why was he here, obviously expecting you? And why did he have to sit like this? Bastard!

“Look what the cat dragged out of the sea”, Astarion drawled afterwards while he kept tapping his index against the goblet, causing a very annoying continuous clicking sound.

”By the gods, you look even worse than the last time I threw you to the sharks and left you to die”, Astarion continued with a smug grin on his perfect pale face and shifted around in his seat so he could lean his elbow on the armrest and put his face in his free hand.

You felt your temper rising. Your hand itched to just grab your dagger, throw it at him and wipe his arrogant grin off his face. Especially for making you remember all the times you had come across each other since you had parted ways.

Stuff like this had happened way too often since you had sworn yourself to never return to the bastard. But your paths had crossed again and again and it tended to always lead to intense encounters - one way or another.

And somehow you were always the one left with nothing but an aching heart, yearning for the past while the infamous captain left seemingly unscathed and unbothered.

But you also had other things to think about right now. You were still trying to steal a ship after all! And you had to figure out where this godsdamned key was.

So as you looked around the room searching, you opted to distract Astarion with some idle chatter. You knew that would always work. The flamboyant captain just loved to hear his own voice way too much (you loved it too but of course you would never admit that).

“And what are you doing here? I didn’t see the Crimson anchored anywhere here”, you asked him while your gaze jumped between different corners of the room and your nemesis. At least Astarion was way too focused on mocking you to notice that you were trying to find a way to get the needed key and then get rid of the unwanted passenger.

“Of course, the Crimson isn’t anchored here. We’re not all fools as big as you, Staeve!”, the pale captain spat back at you, obviously offended that you would even think him capable of such a thing.

You shrugged - he kinda had a point. But it still didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be a moment when he would be the bigger fool after all.

“And don’t you have anything better to do than bug me, Astarion?”, you asked to keep him talking when a small golden glint drew your eye to a shelf behind the enormous desk. That must be it. Now you would only need to figure out the perfect moment to make a run for it.

Your eyes focused on Astarion again who was still very comfortably lounging on the big chair. He was currently lazily twisting around one of his ankles to draw circles into the air with one of his booted feet while he was gazing upon the nails of his free hand.

“Why, of course not, my love”, he replied and drew up one of his eyebrows as he looked back at you. “I was just in the area, when some of my crew picked up noise about a ragged bunch who seemed to be pirates trying to collect information about this neat little ship. And the descriptions they gave could really only fit one dirty pirate scum I know”, Astarion explained and lifted his legs from the armrest. The gaze of his unusual red eyes (obviously going perfectly with his doublet) was burning into yours as he got up slowly and sauntered towards you.

“So I bought this ship and simply waited with the laid out trap”, he said playfully and shrugged one of his shoulders, rolling it around, still slowly walking towards you with the feline grace you remembered well. He held the chalice with wine casually by its rim, dangling it next to his leg.

And as you took him in now in all his glory, you couldn’t help but be awestruck. He looked regal and dangerous - simply beautiful. But more than that you were smitten with memories of the past. Not only the last encounters you’ve had that had always been intense, but also from before that. When none of you had even dreamt of putting a captain before your name. Your throat closed up as you kept thinking about that; that and what you had once been for each other.

You desperately forced your thoughts back to the task at hand while the pale captain was sill stalking towards you. Although it was becoming very hard to concentrate the closer Astarion came.

“And you did all this to impress your ex-lover, yes?”, you spat when the other man had come so close that you were almost nose to nose. Gods be damned, he was even more beautiful and breathtaking up close than you remembered.

Several different urges were rising within you fighting for dominance. Your hand balled into a fist so hard, the knuckles were turning white as you tried to suppress all of them at once.

“Some people like big gestures”, Astarion muttered and let his head wander slightly from side to side while his gaze wandered from yours to your lips and back up again.

“Well, I’m not here for a date. I’m here to steal a ship”, you mustered sharply, still desperately trying to push down your conflicting emotions.

Astarion’s red eyes sparked, almost making your heart stutter right then and there.

“But unfortunately I am now in your way”, the captain replied teasingly, one white eyebrow flicking upwards. “What are you going to do about it, Staeve my love? Stab me with your sabre, eh?”, the pale elf teased while licking over his lips and cocking his head. A smug grin was playing on his lips then. His crimson gaze was boring into you, making you gulp.

You mirrored the sardonic smile: “Oh, you mean, like the last time?” You raised an eyebrow, mirroring him, and then quickly with one of your hands made sure that your shirt was still as widely opened as usual.

Astarion’s gaze jumped to your bare chest and you saw a muscle tick in his jaw. Good to know you weren’t the only one affected by this game.

But that was your moment. You pushed your elbow against the captain’s chest hard and made him stumble back with a yelp and then a hiss. The remaining wine spilled from the goblet Astarion had dropped. Some splashed onto you but it didn’t even matter anymore.

With a leap you jumped past the chair and onto the desk and started running across it, almost slipping on the maps and papers strewn across it and face-planting on the dark wood. Jumping off the desk again you were almost at the shelf and had already spotted the small brass key.

You were so desperate to get to the tiny golden thing in time that you nearly didn’t notice the glint of silver rushing towards you. Only in the last moment did you dodge under Astarion’s rapier. The captain had obviously regained his balance quickly and rushed around the side of the navigator’s desk to come after you. A quick glance towards him confirmed that he wasn’t pleased by you so rudely interrupting your flirt.

Meanwhile, dodging the weapon had forced you to drop to your knees and make the rest of the way in a painful slide over the wooden floor boards. You crashed into the shelf, making the key drop directly into your lap. Immediately you grabbed it and jumped up again while you quickly checked that your hat was still in place. And only then did you notice that the piece of furniture had started to tip, caused by you crashing into it.

Astarion was closing in on you again. So you picked the odds that seemed to be already in your favour and grabbed the leaning shelf to throw it down completely between you and your former lover.

And then you ran, drawing your sabre, just in case, while sprinting towards the still open door of the captain’s cabin. Rushing through you slammed the door shut behind you, hoping to gain a few more moments from it.

With the key clutched in your one hand and your weapon in the other you made it to the steering wheel and fumbled the tiny key into the seemingly even tinier keyhole. “You got to be kidding me”, you whisper-screamed once more. “Big ship, tiny key - who the fuck thought of this?”

But you managed to get in the key and heard a satisfying metallic clicking noise when you turned it around. But what you also heard was the door behind you opening and crashing against the wall forcefully when Astarion kicked it open.

You quickly got up, holding firmly onto your sabre while you grabbed one end of the steering wheel and with all your force - you spun it. Finally it worked! A short relieved sigh and a thanks to no god in particular left your lips.

You turned around - and were greeted by the finely dressed captain slashing at you with his rapier again. Your sabre was not lifted a moment too early when Astarion crashed into you and threw you back against the giant wooden wheel that at least had stopped turning. The crash had drained all air from your lungs and the wood was now painfully pressing into your back. You had lost your balance and were unfavourably forced to lean backwards while your boots were trying to find stable footing again.

Astarion’s rapier and your sabre were crossed above your head causing the metal to screech awfully while you were powering against each other. Astarion had thrown his other hand to your throat and was choking you while you tried to stop him from doing that with your own free hand. He was completely feral - probably as mad about you not playing along with his plans for the night as you throwing furniture onto him.

Not really the ideal reunion for former acquaintances, you had to agree. But the two of you had a history to perpetuate when it came to hurting each other in any kind of way possible. Today would be no different.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, your inner voice reminded you that it had indeed been right about the upcoming disaster. But you brushed it off, at least things stayed interesting this way. You were kind of in a rough spot at the moment.

Normally you’d easily be stronger than Astarion but he had taken you by surprise once more - bloody bastard. So the only thing you could do right now was trying to not get your head cut off or choked to death. And you were doing kind of miserably with both, but giving up wasn’t in your nature.

“If you wanted a romantic dinner you would have only needed to ask”, you croaked at Astarion whose face was contorted into a furious grimace. “Well that and at least an apology”, you continued, “maybe then I would have considered.”

Astarion’s red eyes widened shortly and then narrowed at you again. He squeezed your throat harder. The rings on his fingers added to your discomfort.

“You are an idiot, Staeve. You could have stayed with me, become my lover and my partner in crime. At least then you wouldn’t have to steal ships and run around in rags”, the captain hissed at you. His brows were furrowed firmly, causing a deep crease between them as he stared at you from under them. Astarion’s whole face was a snarl.

“What, and only be choked by you casually? Where’s the pleasure in that?”, you mustered despite the pale fingers still closing harder around your throat. The edges of your vision were starting to blacken and your head was beginning to feel woozy. You were quickly running out of options.

“I’ll never be your lap dog, Astarion”, you managed and felt a wave of anger rise up in you as you spat out the words.

The captain kept staring at you but for a split second you saw doubt flit through his crimson eyes and his chokehold on you let up for a moment.

Immediately, you made use of that in combination with anger giving you new strength. You pushed Astarion off you with a furious scream, making him tumble back and even fall with how forceful you had pushed him in his short moment of weakness.

You stepped away from the steering wheel quickly and with sabre in hand looked around, taking in your situation. You were still in the port? Why wasn’t this damned thing moving?

Then you remembered: the sails hadn’t been lowered yet.

Cursing so viciously even a bard would have been impressed by your colourful language, you turned around on the heel of your boot and ran for the nearest rope holding up the mainsail. Without letting go of your weapon but merely flipping it around so you could use your fingers and your other hand, you unwound the rope as quickly as possible. Letting go of it when you had managed you hoped to be rewarded with the big sail coming down and getting you moving. But when you looked up you saw that the damn thing had barely moved at all. Another rope was still holding it in place.

You groaned in desperation - well, you had obviously jinxed it by calling this whole endeavour easy at the beginning. This wasn’t easy at all anymore. In fact, it was a desperate pain in the ass.

Behind you you heard steps fast approaching. And when you turned around, you saw Astarion charging at you again, rapier at the ready, face nothing but an angry mask. But this time you had more time to react. You were ready to meet him now.

Nonchalantly, you threw your sabre up into the air to flip it around. You effortlessly caught it again and steadied yourself for the oncoming blow.

And then it came: the fine, thin blade thrust directly towards your neck. But you dodged the strike easily and struck the rapier away from your body, making it scrape along the edge of your sabre. The force with which Astarion had struck against you and that of your counter strike almost made the captain lose balance immediately.

But what he lacked in strength he made up with speed and dexterity. He withdrew the rapier from where it was drawn towards the ground by you and immediately started another assault, this time aiming for your torso. You dropped your blade to parry his, but his move had only been a feint

Astarion placed another lightning-quick strike towards your hip and you could only drop your weapon to counter in the very last second by letting the rapier crash against your hilt. The force of the strike immediately let pain shoot up your whole arm and into your shoulder. But this unfortunate counter had not only hurt you. You heard Astarion’s pained moan but when you looked into his eyes he was still just as furious, if not even more.

The pale captain then elegantly spun around trying to slash you across the face. You dodged by bowing low and then finally placed your first attack by striking upwards, aiming for Astarion’s shoulder. But your opponent quickly stepped out of your reach and hissed at you, your blade missing him by a fair amount.

And finally with some distance between you, you took your chances and ran off towards the other rope still holding up the sail. Immediately, you knew you were being followed by the angry scream ringing out behind you and the rushing footsteps. When you had reached the spot you turned around again and were immediately hit in the face with the hilt of the rapier.

You groaned as you saw stars and fell back against the railing. He’d hit you squarely on the nose. And the wet feeling you noticed immediately afterwards could only mean that he had drawn blood. But you didn’t let go of your sabre and still managed to parry Astarion’s next blows. A fine pirate you’d be if you were to give up after one hearty punch in the face. This was merely a warmup.

But Astarion’s attacks seemed almost a bit cautious now. Was he letting up? It almost seemed that he hadn’t planned to hurt you that much with the unfair blow of the wrong end of his weapon. His fault though, for taking it easy on you.

“You know you’re supposed to stab me with the pointy end, not the blunt one, right?”, you spat breathlessly between trading blows with your former lover. That again made Astarion rage with fury. Heedlessly he swung his blade at you and you once more dodged by bowing below it, only being missed by a hair now.

And then you suddenly heard rustling above you. You quickly looked up and saw the end of the rope flutter while the mainsail was finally unfolding. Apparently, the rapier strike had just cut through the last string attached holding you captive in this port - good!

Astarion too had been distracted by the sudden happenings. “Shit”, he cursed under his breath. Both your weapons were lowered now as you watched the sail filling up with wind. And then with a sudden yank the ship started moving and with that threw you both against the wooden railing - hard. Your hat fell off and you could only helplessly yelp as you saw it drop into the water out of the corner of your eye.

“You’re never going to get away with this”, Astarion hissed at you as you were both grabbing to hold on and gain balance again.

“But I am already getting away with it”, you grinned back while you felt more blood run from your nose into your mouth. A quick glance confirmed that you had at least steered well enough and the ship was moving away from the docks.

“Even if you are, you are never going to beat me”, the pale captain hissed again while he was pushing away from the railing and raising his weapon again. He was stumbling a bit but he wouldn’t give up, same as you.

“I don’t have to”, you replied and gritted your teeth as you too took up a fighting stance again. You were fairly sure you couldn’t keep going much longer but you still had to rid yourself of this unwanted guest.

Astarion looked in confusion at you while he made no move to attack you while you were still arranging yourself - gentleman’s agreement.

“I just need to be a pain in your ass so you’ll never forget what you’ve done to me”, you finished and licked over your lips, tasting copper and baring your teeth at him for just a moment.

For a quick second Astarion’s shoulders dropped and you saw hurt and guilt flash over his face. But it was quickly gone and replaced with anger once more as he rushed towards you in a final effort.

You stood your ground and watched him come with determination on your face. With a mighty blow of your own you met Astarion’s blade. And then it was a measure of strength again as your blades were pressing against each other. Astarion’s face was a grimace of pain and anger while he immediately went to support the blade with both his hands. You easily held yourself against him now. You’d always been the stronger one.

“We really have to stop meeting like this, love”, you said with a grin although your whole body was hurting now and in your mind and in your chest conflicting emotions were also still battling each other. You wanted to push him away for good as much as you wanted to pull him closer. Astarion just scoffed in response with his face twisted in pain. Both of your arms were shivering from the effort.

You were still torn between pushing and pulling - so you opted for something in between.

With a swift movement you withdrew yourself and your blade, causing Astarion to stumble forward caused by the sudden loss of resistance.

And that was your opening. With your free hand you grabbed the front of his doublet forcefully and pulled him even closer towards you while Astarion’s eyes widened in shock. But you hadn’t planned to hurt him - or not as he probably expected.

You dragged him over to you and crushed your mouth to Astarion’s lips that were already opened in surprise. The captain gasped when your mouths met but you didn’t leave him time to readjust. You let your tongue slip into his mouth and kissed him: passionately, forcefully but still meaning more to please than to hurt. And Astarion took you up on it, welcoming your kiss and giving in, even slowly moving closer. It was another show of strength but this time you won easily.

When you had almost forgotten what you had actually planned to do, you curtly stepped away sideways, letting go of Astarion. But not without noticing the glazed over look in the pale captain’s red eyes. His blade was lowered now, as were his defences in this instant. You saw the wishful yearning on your former lover’s eyes and knew that it was mirrored on your face, probably with a huge blush too.

But you had come here to steal a ship - and a ship you would steal.

“Thanks for buying me this gift”, you whispered and then with a quick and forceful movement pushed Astarion - whose face only managed to change to confusion - over the railing and off the ship.

You heard him yelp and then a big splash of water. iImmediately, you leaned over the railing to check if he was okay. After all, you had only meant to get him off your newly acquired property. To your relief you quickly spotted Astarion coming up from his plunge. His wet curls were hanging around his face now as you saw the hate and the fury on his face.

“You can have my hat if you can find it”, you screamed as the vessel was quickly moving away from where you saw a flash of Astarion’s curls in the dark water.

“STAEVE!”, he screamed. “YOU WON’T GET AWAY WITH THIS!” The anger in his voice was blood curdling. Good thing you were quickly moving away from him. You were pretty sure he’d find a painful way to kill you in this instant, given the opportunity.

“WE WILL MEET AGAIN AND I WILL MAKE YOU PAY!”, was the last thing you heard before you turned away from the railing. “Bet”, you replied only to yourself and walked over to the steering wheel. You looked up at the stars and checked if you were on your planned course to pick up your crew.

Then you went below deck of the Absolute to go find some desperately needed liquor.

By the time you’d reach the rest of your crew you’d be blackout drunk. Not only because you wanted to celebrate being captain of a new ship now, but mainly to forget the captain of another.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess

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justporo · 7 months ago

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Back Under the Weeping Willow

Brimsterton | A Staevstarion Regency AU

A/N: So we kind of all had a collective feverdream on a Discord server and what came from it was this Astarion x Staeve Regency AU - namely Brimsterton. Much of this originated when we went ham on the server and ping-ponged ideas around. So, many of these ideas were a collective effort with credit specifically going to @somewhatclear @silmaryel and @astarions-pervert-goth-wife. Thank you guys, mwa! That was so much fun. And ofc also big thanks to @velnna who keeps letting me play with his blorbo. Staeve is my favourite barbie doll! <3 Will I ever come back to this? We will see... ~~~ Summary: Astarion Ancunín, only heir to his family's estate and name, finds himself back in his hometown. Suddenly Duke after his parents untimely demise duty demands he takes matters in his own hands and goes towards an unsure future. But back home is still the same: the same old people, the same old fields. The same old memories, the same old yearning as he meets his childhood friend Staeve again - the reason why he left in the first place all these years ago.

Pairing: Astarion/Staeve Wordcount: 1,7k Warnings: mention of character death

The message about his parent’s death had reached Astarion through a courier letter as he had been attending a social gathering. A disease had withered them away more quickly than anyone could’ve had believed. He was duke now. He now owned the estate.

He’d read the words. And a second time and a third. Then he had excused himself without further words and had gone home to pack.

Had someone observed him they would have probably only thought he’d encountered a mild inconvenience. Nothing of consequence really.

And Astarion would have preferred it if had been nothing but a minor inconvenience. That he didn’t have to return to his hometown, to his parents’ - no his - estate now.

But duty demanded it. And duty, in the end, had always been the master that the young duke had bowed to.

On the inside though, conflicting emotions had been wreaking havoc: a certain sadness about all of this, surely, but more than that fear, concern, lodging below his ribs.

But deeper another thing entirely had reared its head: a spark of yearning suddenly being reignited, that he thought had gone cold a long time ago. Almost ten years ago, to be exact.

But as he had quickly arranged for everything to be packed up, a carriage to be sent and for a message to be delivered to a friend to hopefully accompany him on this trip that was bound to become a disaster, he felt his mind preoccupied not with thoughts of mourning. He had barely remembered to request for his all black attire to be laid out for him as visions of forest green hair, teal eyes and that wicked grin flashed through his mind - long past, but surely not forgotten. Never forgotten.

And with memories of old clouding his mind, he had begun his journey towards home - and an unsure future.

Coming home had hurt.

Not merely because of the harsh reality of Astarion’s parents' untimely end. Because this was obviously all very tragic and unfortunate of course.

But in truth he had been estranged from his parents for as long as he could remember. And it had gotten worse over the ten years he had been spending apart from them - and there. Scarce letters had been his only bridge to a past he usually tried to forget.

The real pain though, as the carriage rattled down the rough roads to his past home, had lingered in how everything was still the same.

The same flower fields being turned into grassy seas of green speckled with colour by the wind rushing through them. The same rocks the carriage’s axle struggled not to break under. The same sky painted grey with a storm that might or might not come. The same small town, the same houses, the same ancient weeping willow up on the hill.

The same people.

The same memories.

The same pain pestering him as his hometown came into view after the same final turn of the road.

The same ache he had felt when leaving all those years ago.

Not even Jenevelle accompanying him and laying a calming hand on his knee as Astarion had kept staring out of the carriage window, with his arm propped up and his hand pressed to his cheek, had been able to soothe this particular pain.

Stoically, he had carried on, just the same.

He’d been welcomed at the Ancunín estate with everyone of the staff wearing black and sullen faces. All of them had waited in a line before the manor. Awaiting the new duke with heavy, grieving hearts.

And word of the young duke returning home must’ve had travelled fast because almost immediately after he had received the staff’s condolences, shaking everyone’s hands and exchanging the customary friendly words and sad smiles, people from town had made visits.

There had been more handshakes, eyes full of understanding, even some tears had shed and Astarion’s shoulder patted more often than he would have liked. And even a few confused glances as people noticed his company of a young fair haired woman without the accompanying rings on either of their hands. But at least the shock about his parents’ untimely demise and the grief laying on the whole place like a sheet had spared him the judgement.

It hadn’t spared him of people coddling him though.

So now here he was at a small get-together at someone else’s estate. Having been pushed to attend because visitors had felt guilty about leaving the mourning man alone at this giant estate where everything must be reminding him of the family he had just lost.

Astarion would have much rather stayed at the Ancunín estate. But he couldn’t have exactly told anyone that. Not when polite and caring invitations had been made - and duty demanded of him to kindly take them up on it.

Unfortunately, the small get-together had also turned out to be a not small at all ball. People were dancing and drinking. And then quickly hiding their smiles behind their hands, putting on masks of sadness and concern as soon as they spotted him.

The evening had been filled with more people crowding around Astarion, grabbing his hand to offer him words of support and understanding or a story about his parents he had to pretend he hadn’t heard a million times yet.

Finally, after Astarion had badly mimicked almost breaking into tears after having been told the same story of how his parents had organised that one particular ball, everyone in town still remembered, for the fourth time in a row, he had been left alone. And thankfully even Jenevelle had, after throwing him another asking look, just went to explore the event on her own.

Now the young duke was sitting in a corner alone, holding on to what was now his third cup of wine, as he observed the couples turning on the dancefloor. He watched through people passing by and obnoxious, incredibly pretentious and tasteless low hanging palm leafs from trees that had been placed everywhere. At least they also provided for a nice and rather hidden corner where Astarion had fled so as to not be approached by griefing townsfolk anymore.

Cheerful dance music drifted through the air and the sweet smell of spring flower bouquets filled the massive room as gauzy skirts in all kinds of pastel colours swished over the floors with young ladies smiling coyly and young men nearly falling at their feet for just one of those smiles.

Even as Astarion found himself not as closely moved by grief as people expected him to be, he found it all abhorrent.

It were the same tasteless people with their same tiny mindsets only reaching from here to the next bigger city and their same annoying and boring soirees.

There had only ever been the one person who had made this place interesting.

Astarion downed the rest of the wine in one big gulp and got up to grab another one while wondering how much longer he would need to stay for it to not be considered rude.

He spotted a servant with a silver tray carrying new drinks in crystal glasses - unfortunately almost on the other side of the room. With a curse under his breath he began moving through the crowd, his head held low to avoid eye contact and more people feeling the need to talk to him, reach for him, console him.

As he passed the edge of the dancefloor he made the mistake of looking up and across the dancefloor where couples were still happily moving in endless twists and turns.

And found the sight he’d been fearing most for. Or yearning for. Astarion really wasn’t quite sure.

On the other side of the dancefloor stood the inspiration and source for those pictures and memories plaguing him since he had sat down in that carriage travelling here. And that ache. And that longing.

The trillering joyful music drifting through the air suddenly seemed muted, time almost slowed down as all those images suddenly came together all at once.

He looked almost like he remembered - the only thing he was not mad about for being the same.

Long dark green hair messily tied back, clothes fine but just a tad dishevelled as to let everyone around know that he wasn’t just like everyone else around. That he didn’t fear to be a little rough around the edges. Teal and black eyes were glinting just as vividly as in Astarion’s memories as he was talking to some lady and lazily holding his cup of wine by the rim.

And then there was his smile. That wicked smile curling up the corners of his lips as he listened to his companion talk.

The freckles on his dark skin had gotten a little more intense and plenty, Astarion could immediately tell. They suited him just as nicely though as they had back then. There were a few lines around his mouth and eyes now and his face just a little leaner, having lost the softness and immaturity of youth in the flesh. But - as Astarion kept being transfixed by watching him - not his manners or his mind it looked like.

Staeve.

Almost all the same.

As were Astarion’s emotions, finally having torn themselves free from below the worry and the fear. The twinge of longing setting his chest ablaze, threatening to let him burn up right on the spot. His heart began to thunder and his hands still clutching the goblet started to tremble as he stood there rooted in place and beholding the sight of the man that had made him leave his home so many years ago.

Then Staeve’s expression changed. Eyebrows drew together and his eyes darted to the side. As if he had caught on that he was being watched. His head flew around, probably rudely interrupting his date’s words and immediately spotting Astarion.

The young duke immediately felt the heat spread to his cheeks and he hastily tried to turn away as if nothing had happened.

But Staeve didn’t even waste a heartbeat to smile at him, deepening the lines around his mouth and eyes even further. The moment drew out between two heartbeats, feeling endless, as they laid eyes upon each other after ten years apart.

Then Staeve lifted his cup in greeting - as if it had only been yesterday.

And only then did Astarion feel that he had returned home.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #fanfiction #astarion x tav #staeve #astarion x staeve #drabble #bg3 #brimsterton #staevstarion

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justporo · 10 months ago

Text

Dumb Ideas

"Staeve's arm was around the vampire’s shoulder who - like every night - acted like he was disgusted by all the affection but leaned into it as soon as one of you tangled their limbs with him. You had one arm slung around the pale elf’s mid with your head on Astarion's shoulder. Which also had the advantage of Staeve being able to caress your cheek and play with your reddish-brown hair - or pinch your ear. Meanwhile you were in the perfect position to nudge the half-drow's side whenever he got too feisty."

Staeve and you decide it's a good idea to pierce each other - while Astarion can't stop commenting on how idiotic that is...

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: So uhm, @velnna has allowed barbies being smashed with his Staeve and... my brain started to think of a sweet polycule with Staeve, Astarion and my own girl, Tav (the hero to almost all my fics)... how could I resist? And you might be saying "Poro, isn't this very self-indulgent?" to which I would agree, but have you considered that I am down bad for this half-drow? So, @velnna, big thankies again for letting me borrow Staeve again, he's wonderful as are you! <3

Pairing: Astarion/Staeve/Fem!Tav (You) Warnings: well, they pierce each other, so don't do this at home, kids? Wordcount: 4,5k

In today's spoils from taking out the occasional bad guys on your way to bigger fish you had to fry in Baldur's Gate, there was something a bit peculiar.

Quite obviously just before you had gotten to these bandits they must've relieved someone else of a lot of jewellery: beautiful golden necklaces, amulets adorned with shimmering stones of all colours under the sun, delicate silver bracelets - and a surprising amount of piercings.

Back in camp now after a full day of adventuring, the party had started sorting through the valuables.

Staeve was just inspecting the pieces when you came over to him and the vampire. He was turning them around in his fingers while Astarion was captivated by a collier with rubies that matched the colours of his eyes very nicely.

When the half-drow saw you coming out of the corner of his black and teal eyes he looked up and threw you a grin: “Looks like I got myself an upgrade for my ears.”

He winked and immediately pocketed a few golden earrings - just to be sure to have them. You raised an eyebrow at the rogue: “Who says it's only you getting some new ones, eh?”

Stepping closer you grabbed Staeve's hand which still had some more gold rings and bars in it. And then while getting so up close and personal with him that the tips of his forest green hair almost tickled your face you wrung the remaining pieces out of his hand. He let you. And grinned benevolently at your audacity - thieves among each other.

“Sharing is caring, love,” you whispered and mimicked his wink from before exaggeratedly and stood on your tiptoes to press a quick peck onto the half-drow's lips. You felt the corner’s of his mouth curl up more as you kissed him.

“Oh, don't worry, there is plenty to go around!” Staeve declared cheerfully and opened up his other hand with much more loot.

You narrowed your eyes at him while he rewarded you with a shit-eating grin. “There should be enough for all of us, even for Karlach. Although I'm not quite sure how many she might have,” Staeve mused and looked around to find the barbarian enthralled by Gale explaining to her in excruciating detail how to recognise a real diamond over a fake one.

“Or maybe we could do new ones. Especially since I don't know what these are for,” he held up some half-moon shaped pieces with a bar connecting the curve.

You just shrugged.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, Astarion had snuck up behind you in the meantime. Having - just like Staeve - secured his more than fair share of the spoils already.

“If you're intending to pierce your nipples, darling, I'd be more than interested to see that. Because that's what those are for,” he explained and pointed one of his long fingers at the thing Staeve was still turning around in his hands.

“Or maybe our sweetheart Tav would like to try that out?” Astarion teased as he stepped up even closer behind you and you felt his hands suddenly cupping your breasts for a short moment and squeezing them upwards - making you yelp. “I'm sure it would suit you terribly well and would make for some extra fun for Staeve and me,” he haughtily whispered close to one of your pointy ears while he tried to make eye contact with Staeve. But the half-drow was too mesmerised by the sight of long elegant fingers presenting a quite alluring view of you exactly in front of his face.

And before you could swat the vampire’s naughty hands away he had already disappeared again with roguish quickness, just laughing. But you wouldn't let yourself be treated like that - not in public anyway. So you went after him, trying to get some revenge.

Meanwhile Staeve held the supposed jewellery for a nipple in front of his chest and looked at it curiously, his lips pursed. Then he simply shrugged and went after his two lovers who were hissing and swearing at each other somewhere at the back of today's campsite.

***

The rest of the party had split up the loot with everyone humming contentedly about the sudden wealth you had fallen into. Astarion had put on the ruby collier to everyone’s entertainment and Karlach had been happy about the still huge amount of new piercings she could take her pick from. Quite some more jokes about how other companions could adorn different parts of their body were made over a generous dinner. The wizard had thrown in a little extra effort and ingredients to celebrate the unexpected financial triumph for it to everyone’s delight.

And once everyone had had their fill of food, laughter, amiable companionship and the sun had set, everyone had retired to their tents - or each other’s for some.

Astarion was languidly laying on the pillows in front of his tent reading, one leg casually angled, the other splayed. He hadn't stayed solitary for long.

Staeve and you had bundled up with him like it had become second nature for all of you: Astarion in the middle, all smothered by you, the other rogue and your joint, multiplied love for him.

Staeve's arm was around the vampire’s shoulder who - like every night - acted like he was disgusted by all the affection but leaned into it as soon as one of you tangled their limbs with him. You had one arm slung around the pale elf’s mid with your head on Astarion's shoulder. Which also had the advantage of Staeve also being able to caress your cheek and play with your reddish-brown hair - or pinch your ear. Meanwhile you were in the perfect position to nudge the half-drow's side whenever he got too feisty.

On top of that you had hooked one leg around the vampire's while Staeve had one of his threaded through the angled one. Effectively you had all immobilised each other as you lay there all knotted.

You were talking about and presenting each other the pieces of jewellery you had saved for yourself, talking about which fit whom better. Or, Staeve and you did. Passing the delicate golden earrings between you, just over where the vampire held his book.

Astarion just occasionally threw in some teasing commentary and eyed the glinting ornate pieces - more than once trying to swat them out of your hands when he got too annoyed with the two of you disturbing his peaceful reading.

Having two lovers so eager and physically affectionate was surely a blessing for the tortured soul and body of the vampire - but it still took him some getting used to. So his usual coping mechanism was to be sassy about everything. Staeve and you knew that by now and usually took it as a hint to give your third a bit more space - however that may look like in the moment.

Right now you had each picked out several pieces and were getting bored anyway. The conversation drifted off. Peaceful silence spread between the three of you.You were toying around with the laces on Astarion’s shirt while Staeve had stuck his nose in the vampire's curls and pressed soft kisses to his scalp.

With your other hand you fidgeted with one of the piercings, letting it wander around your fingers. And while it made another turn around them, a thought slowly formed in your mind. But before you could voice it, someone else broke the quiet moment.

“You two are terribly silent - it's disturbing,” Astarion burst out after a while of neither you or the half-drow saying anything. Sassy, just like you were used to.

“First you're annoyed by us talking and now of the opposite. Make up your mind, darling,” Staeve muttered flatly and softly bit into one of the vampire's pointy ears.

Astarion hissed and snapped his face around to his insolent lover. Pushing him away with his long fingers splayed over the half-drow’s face, his pale skin contrasting with Staeve’s darker skin.

“I was annoyed at you for passing things right in front of my face while I am trying to read,” Astarion snapped back. “Also usually when the two of you are silent like this one of you is about to come up with a really dumb idea that will come back to bite us all,” he snarled in response to the other rogue’s complaint and Staeve grabbed his hand off his face - but not without a small kiss to it.

“You're one to talk Mr ‘I-am-not-a-details-person’,” Staeve gave back, unwilling to be called out by someone with so little talent for coming up with plans himself.

“Rich coming from someone who repeatedly almost got himself killed with his stupid need to throw himself at every blade pointed at Tav or me, my love,” Astarion snapped back again.

The two of them kept bickering and teasing each other playfully until Astarion rolled his crimson eyes and decided to end the argument by grabbing Staeve's face and kissing him. Up until both men were merely softly humming and moaning, content with being wrapped up in each other.

This so far had always ended any dissonance between the three of you for good. No opportunity for arguing when mouths were occupied otherwise.

You observed the scene as those two turned more to each other, laying on their sides. You moved so you were basically spooning the vampire, your head still on his shoulder but now from behind. You let your hand wander from Astarion’s waist to Staeve’s hand that was cupping the vampire’s cheek along with the kiss. Letting your fingers softly trace down his freckled arm and eliciting a light shiver from him. His eyes flew open, gaze softening at you and your soft caress. The three of you stayed like that for a long time, making you almost forget your idea.

“But what if we actually got some new piercings?” you posed as a question when the two rogues finally broke their kiss and stared tenderly at each other after.

Staeve's gaze immediately snapped to you and he began grinning, face lighting up with some radiant energy. You could always count on him for a quick and probably somewhat stupid idea.

“Absolutely not,” Astarion exclaimed though and huddled around so he lay as before, picking his book up again and forcing both you and Staeve to readjust positions again. Well, his standpoint on the whole thing was clear.

But Staeve and you were still grinning at each other in agreement.

“You do whatever you imbeciles want but no one is touching me with a needle!” the vampire reiterated and shimmied himself around deeper into his pillows. A steep wrinkle formed between his furrowed brows as he made a show of focusing on his book again, basically making the pages snap as he opened it up at his bookmark. But Staeve was already up and about to grab supplies for your endeavour.

“Your loss then,” you whispered to Astarion and leaned over for a quick kiss to take the frown of his face. It worked quite nicely.

“Don't let Staeve poke your eye out, darling,” Astarion purred when you pulled away again, raising one of his eyebrows.

You stuck your tongue out at him and made to get up. But the remaining rogue quickly grabbed for your wrist and pulled you back onto him for a longer, deeper kiss - arm around your waist so you couldn’t so easily escape.

“Don't poke out his either, sweetheart,” Astarion mumbled when you withdrew “I like my lovers each with both their pretty eyes.”

You gave him a peck onto the tip of his nose.

“Well, who says I'm not doing the nipple piercings after all?” you retorted and jumped up to go after the half-drow while Astarion offered you a fiendish grin at the proposition.

Shortly after, you and Staeve had returned with supplies: needles out of your packs, strong liquor from the camp supplies and of course some suiting gold rings.

Despite the expressed interest for something else, you had decided to let Staeve pierce your bottom lip so you could put a ring through it. And now after he had poured some alcohol over the needle you were sitting in front of each other with crossed legs - while Astarion watched from the back with a perpetually raised eyebrow.

“Have you done this before?” you asked the half-drow as he bit his lip and obviously didn't know how to get going.

“Of course! I've done all my piercings myself. Also pierced others before,” he answered and kept inspecting your lips as if there was something new to see. As if he wasn’t staring enough at them every single day already.

You eyed Staeve's ears and the rings dangling from them. Some of the spots had healed a little roughly it seemed. “And all your victims so far still live?” you asked sceptically and grabbed the bottle of liquor that Staeve still had beside him to take a good swig from it. Staeve pressed his lips into a thin line as he watched you drink, clearly not even thinking the question worth an answer.

“Having second thoughts, darling?” Astarion threw in sarcastically, staring at you from under his brows when he had seen your questioning glance at Staeve's answer.

“I'm surprised you'd let him put a needle into you. Some days I'm surprised he remembers to use the pointy end of his dagger,” the vampire continued while letting his eyes drop to his book again and pointedly turned over to the next page.

Staeve puckered his lips and stared down Astarion who must've felt it and lifted his gaze again to stare right back. “Just leave me something to kiss,” the pale elf concluded and went back to reading.

The half-drow sighed and grabbed the bottle of liquor from you and also downed a fair amount - not exactly adding to your trust in him. But with some liquid courage within him he cracked his neck and made to get to work.

He softly grabbed your bottom lip between his index and thumb, softly tugging. His teal eyes flitted over it while he hesitantly brought up the needle to it. Meanwhile your silver eyes remained firmly on your partner, watching as his lips slightly parted and a light frown formed on his face. Silence spread for a few long heartbeats.

“Your hands are trembling, love,” you muttered, with as much clarity as your caught bottom lip allowed for.

Staeve's eyes jumped to yours, a hint of desperation lit up in his eyes.

“How am I supposed to do this with you staring at me like that, sweetie, hm?”

One of your eyebrows jumped up, lips curling into a smirk.

“So what you're saying is I am distracting you with my piercing eyes?” you teased.

Staeve rolled his eyes at you but smiled. And both of you heard how Astarion clicked his tongue at you.

“I don't want to hurt you,” the half-drow whispered once he had shaken off your stupid joke.

“Surprisingly this doesn't seem to be a common problem with you,” you gave back slightly breathy and watched a soft shade of pink colour Staeve's cheeks.

Then he tugged harder on your lip, making you whimper slightly in the process. “Well, if you say so, Tav,” your lover teased in a low tone, leaning ever closer to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, biting his own lip now.

“Please, don't have too much fun without me,” Astarion commented from the back in a mockingly dry and bored tone.

Your eyes jumped to the vampire who wasn't even looking at you.

And suddenly you felt a sharp sting that caught you off guard. A single yelp left you, then you looked back at Staeve and - blinking a few times to manage the pain - realised that he had pushed the needle cleanly through. He grinned triumphantly at you.

Without letting go of the needle he grabbed the golden ring you had picked out and carefully threaded it around your bottom lip once he had pulled the needle out. Then he softly dabbed off some blood with some clean cloth.

You didn't even further react to all of it until he finished his job with a very delicate kiss on your lips (that still sent another sting of pain through the wound but you barely minded).

“There you go,” Staeve grinned at you. “Looks hot!”

You grinned back and flinched only a little when you felt some pain from the movement.

“Turn your head for me, darling?” Astarion demanded back from his vantage point. You obeyed and underlined your new accessory by adding a playful wink. The vampire rewarded you with his signature smirk and hummed approvingly: “I have to agree with you, Staeve darling, it does suit her.”

The half-drow puffed out his chest in pride, extremely satisfied with himself and his work. He kept looking at you, eyes wandering over your new piece of jewellery again and again.

Then, while pain began to slowly throb through your lip you got up from your cross-legged position.

“Now your turn,” you said as you got up and grabbed a fresh needle. Staeve's mouth moved silently as you quickly poured some of the alcohol over the needle and were already reaching for one of his ears. He had opted for another earring for a longer row down his pointy ears.

What he had not opted for was how fast and eager you were to get to it now that you were already dealt with. He lifted his hands defensively and leaned away from you.

“Don't you just want to take a break first, see how you are with the pa-” “Don't chicken out on me, darling,” you immediately interrupted him and grabbed for his ear with a wicked grin and glint in your eyes.

Staeve yelped and still tried to lean away from you despite you already having a grip on him. This went on until he lost balance and toppled over. You had no problem with this and quickly followed him, climbing onto him until you were straddling him - his ear still in your grasp and in your other hand the needle.

“Love, I'd really appreciate some of the restraint I showed towards you,” the half-drow pleaded, one hand still held up to guard himself and with the other holding himself slightly upward to not fully lose control of the situation.

“Looks like someone delights a lot more in pain than you do, Staeve love,” the vampire once more threw in. This time he had actually lowered his book. This was all way too entertaining now.

You answered your vampire with another fiendish grin, then looked at the rogue beneath you once more.

“Have mercy, darling!” Staeve pleaded once more but you saw now how he could barely contain a grin himself. The twitching corners of his mouth gave him away.

“This is going to be it, Staeve? This is how you'd beg when she basically has you by the balls? Pathetic,” Astarion teased ruthlessly and then clicked his tongue again. Staeve and you shared a glance. Both of you knew the vampire would make much more of a fuss would he be in the half-drow’s position now.

The rogue beneath you made a slightly despaired noise, then took another breath and looked you straight in the eyes: “Alright, you know what. Tav, ge- wait a second!” He interrupted himself and grabbed the bottle of liquor again, downing the rest of it with impressive speed.

“Get it over with,” he finished and then turned his head slightly to give you better access to the side of his head. He was still eyeing you cautiously.

And as you moved in until the needle was almost touching his ear, his free hand snapped up and grabbed your hand: “Count to three? Please?”

His eyes were genuine this time when he asked that of you. Your gaze softened, your hand with the needle dropped slightly. And with your other you softly let your thumb wander over your lover's much darker skin.

“You don't have to do this, Staeve,” you whispered and let go of his ear to softly cup his cheek and turn his face around to you. You softly pressed a kiss to his lips, biting through the pain immediately shooting through your lip doing this. Staeve let go of your hand to mirror you, the pad of his thumb softly stroking over your cheek as you kissed.

But when you lifted your head up again you saw the determined glint in his eyes, being sure he wouldn't pull out of this, no matter what.

“Hells no, I want to do this. Just - count to three,” he asked of you. You simply smirked and grabbed his chin to turn his head back to the former position.

“Ready?” you asked and felt how some nervousness welled up inside you too as you carefully aligned the needle with your partner's ear.

Staeve slightly nodded as he looked at you. He trusted you after all. Even Astarion was still watching right now.

You took a deep breath - as did he. Your eyes were firmly on him.

“One,” you said - and pushed the needle through the half-drow’s ear.

Naturally, you took him fully by surprise. His mouth opened, ready to let out a yowl of pain but then realised it wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought. “Oww?” he made, more question than exclamation of pain, while you already pulled the needle through and fiddled with his new earring.

“Well, I could do that again anytime,” Staeve boasted afterwards and leaned forward - until he had to wrap his arms around you to stop you from falling off his lap. You grabbed a cloth and cleaned up his ear while he kept grinning at you insufferably and you pouted at him for how easily he swatted away his hesitancy from before.

“You like it, darling?” he shouted towards Astarion fishing for a compliment like you had gotten and meanwhile fully ignored your attitude.

The vampire rolled his eyes then nodded in exaggeration at Staeve, putting on some massive histrionics. Then he rolled his eyes again and went back to reading.

“Are you guys done now? Can I finally read in peace again?” Astarion spat towards you as Staeve let his hand wander up your back and rubbed the tip of his nose against yours.

“Still no nipple piercings for you?” the half-drow suggested cheekily and threw his other lover a glance. But the addressed vampire just stared at him in annoyance for his insolent proposition and shook his head - moving up his book to block both of you out of his view while he muttered something under his breath. Something about what he must have done to end up in this situation.

And while he kept softly muttering to himself, Staeve looked back at you, softly motioning towards Astarion with his head and a slight grin on his lips. You immediately fully understood his intention.

Without further need for communication the two of you dashed back towards your third and smothered him in between you: showering him with kisses while wrapping all of your limbs around him. Basically giving him not a single chance to escape your joint affection. The book was quickly wrestled out of his hand and discarded to the side.

Of course the vampire took it with hissing and many very verbal complaints but he simply couldn’t resist his partners showering him with the love he deserved. In the end he let himself be happily swept up between the two of you. All of the affection making him almost forget that it hadn’t always been like that.

It took a while before the tangle of limbs calmed down again. By the end you were almost in the same position again as you had started the whole night with, neatly wrapped up in each other.

Astarion looked at the two of you softly since you had seemingly used up all of your chaotic energy for the day.

When he took in your face, one of his eyebrows jumped up as he looked down to your freshly pierced lip. By now you could certainly feel it swell up and how it began to throb in pain.

Before you could question his intention, Astarion leaned towards you and softly licked up a fresh trickle of blood from the wound. All while retaining eye contact with you and sending shivers down your spine. Afterwards his lips stayed for a kiss - cautious of course, to not cause you more pain. You would have loved to deepen the kiss more and see where it could possibly lead. But you knew the pain would make you regret it and so it remained quite chaste.

When the kiss ended, Staeve immediately inserted himself back into the situation: “And are you taking care of my ear too, or…”

“I’m definitely not going to lick your godsdamned ear, Staeve!” Astarion answered with a snarl.

The other rogue pouted.

And that surprisingly was all that had been needed for Astarion to give in despite himself. With a loud sigh, he turned over and softly pressed some light kisses to his lover’s new earring. Staeve grinned at him contentedly and drew him back in for another open-mouthed kiss that went on until all of you slowly felt the exhaustion of the day finally catch up with you.

Slowly the three of you settled into serene silence: only the campfire still crackling, soft breaths drifting off into the aether and the sound of two hearts beating for three filled the night now.

It would have been perfect to just drift into your dreams now - if only it hadn’t been for the pain that now really kept bothering you.

You caught Staeve’s gaze and saw the same agony mirrored on his face - especially since he was laying on the side of his freshly pierced ear. You made a face towards your half-drow partner. He answered you in like.

But neither of you would have bothered to get up and do something about it. Especially not if it meant letting go of your vampire for only a second.

But Astarion noticed anyway.

“Regretting the consequences of your actions, darlings?” he teased with a bit of bite in his tone. But when both you and Staeve made big eyes at him, he simply sighed. Then he tried to detangle himself with quite some effort and got up.

“Where are you going, Astarion? You can’t just leave us here, not if we’re hurting!” you exclaimed and immediately shimmied over into Staeve’s open arms since the spot between you was empty now.

“I’m going to get the druid to fix you up. I can’t have you die of an infection because of this. Not before either the tadpole or I get to you,” Astarion responded with some annoyance masking his actual care for the two of you as he was already stomping away.

“Or do you rather want me to get Shadowheart?” the vampire teased you.

Staeve and you looked at each other. Both of you could imagine the amount of judgement you’d receive from the cleric.

“Halsin,” you exclaimed in unison and heard Astarion laugh slightly in response. And then you waited until your temporary missing piece returned to make the three of you whole again.

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sillyvampireelf · 10 months ago

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🥰🔪❤️🔪💕💕💕

Happy boyfriends day or wtv

Ref

#staeve #astarion #bg3 #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #velnna #bg3 fanart

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justporo · 1 year ago

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Hi! Could I please get some headcanons or a drabble of Astarion x anemic!Tav and how things may differ when it comes to him feeding on them, how he'd take care of them if they needed it, etc? Would love to see what you come up with. Thank you for your time! 💜

Hello and thank you very much, Anon! Since I'm actually hit with the Bloodless debuff today myself... What else could I have written?

This is a very sweet idea to write something - which I took and then made it sarcastic... I hope you like it.

Also - idk why, but for this I pictured Tav as velnna's Staeve - you probably know who I'm talking about and if you don't you should very quickly go over there and find out, because I love Steven and you should really give this incredible incredible artist who has contributed so much to this fandom a lot of love. All the love. (I didn't wanna tag them because I didn't know if it was okay and didn't want to annoy them but go check out their blog!!)

Pairing: Astarion / Tav (You) Wordcount: 1,6k

Bloodless

The sun was burning in the sky. You felt sweat almost drip from your skin. Every step seemed to be harder than the last one. Your heart was fluttering although your pulse seemed flat. Damn this Mountain Pass.

You and the rest of the party had been hiking through the mountains for days. It was exhausting for everyone, but especially for you it seemed. Surely, the fact that you had offered Astarion your blood almost every other night (and that he was always very keen and graciously grateful to take it) had quite obviously to do with how much your stamina had dwindled.

But you knew offering up your blood was very much helpful. Not only to the vampire, but the party as a whole: Astarion had basically become a menace on the battlefield since he’d been able to feed properly. Also, you were stubborn – a bit of missing blood wouldn’t knock you out. Or would it?

You tripped on a loose stone and almost face-planted on the ground. Only in the last moment were you able to catch yourself and dampen the fall with your arms. You quickly got up again and hoped no one had noticed since you’d dropped to being the last in the group today.

But trying to raise yourself so quickly had been a mistake and you suddenly felt overly woozy, your vision blurring and you were immediately back on one knee.

And of course, it hadn’t gone unnoticed: Astarion had been in front of you and had seemingly been alarmed by the noise of your fall – twice.

“What is it, Tav, got too distracted looking at my back, hm?”, he taunted and came over to where you were doubled over – leaning on your arms too now because you felt so dizzy all of a sudden that you felt you had need of all of your four limbs on the ground to support you.

When the vampire realised you weren’t getting up and also didn’t respond to his quip in your usual witty manner, he quickly gave the others a shout to let them know not to go too far ahead. Then he came over to you. You were desperately trying to not pass out when you saw the hands of the pale elf through your blurred vision reaching for you.

“You do hear me, yes?”, Astarion whispered to you. You could only nod curtly. His hands hesitantly touched your shoulders.

“Alright, can you get up? There’s a big stone over there where you could sit down.” You shook your head which made you even dizzier.

“Oh hm”, Astarion seemed a little helpless on how to proceed with you. You felt him turn away.

“Don’t tell the others!”, you exclaimed breathlessly. The vampire whipped around: “But… why?” “Just don’t please”, you whispered and carefully looked up at his face. Was that… actual worry?

“Please just… Help me sit on this rock, let me have some water… and rest and we’ll keep going in a few minutes”, you pleaded with him. Astarion didn’t look completely convinced but sighed in defeat after a few of your racing heartbeats.

“Alright – could you please not die for a moment while I go and talk to the others?”, he said in a sassy tone that couldn’t completely gloss over the worry in his voice.

You let your head fall down again and simply nodded. Astarion went off towards the rest of your companions.

Ever so slowly you felt a little bit better. Cautiously you knelt back onto your feet – at least not on all fours anymore! Shortly after you tried to carefully get up and move over to the rock Astarion had mentioned.

That was when the vampire returned. “Oh no no, you stay right where you are, you poor helpless creature that would have perished already had it not been for me.” He ran the last few feet over and grabbed one of your arms to slowly put it around his neck and help you get up and walk over to sit on the boulder. You wanted to say something witty at his taunt, but your mind was too blank.

“Also, we are actually taking a break – all of us, so don’t even try to keep on walking”, he scolded you as he placed you down.

“What did you tell the others?”, you asked simply as you placed your forearms on your thighs and just sat leaning forward like that for a little. “Tss, does it matter now? Something like I broke a nail of mine and needed a moment to mourn it or whatever”, Astarion replied annoyedly.

“Can’t believe they actually stopped for that”, you said slowly and chuckled with your head between your knees and threw up a look at your vampiric companion. “Yeah well, seems they care a lot about my wellbeing. And I take it they would about yours, too”, he gave back – again very sassily. You just chuckled but didn’t reply. You saw that he relaxed a little.

“Ah here. You should probably drink and eat a little”, the vampire said after a while of the two of you just sitting there. He offered you a water bottle and some berries from a pouch – both of which weren’t his for obvious reasons.

You narrowed your eyes at him: “Where did you get those?” “By the Gods, you are so reluctant to help, I should’ve left you in the dirt.” Astarion rolled his eyes at you. “The druid gave it to me – you’re not as inconspicuous as you might believe, oh mighty leader of our adventure troupe.” You had a desire to punch this cheeky elf but you knew you were in no condition to act on something like this, so you sighed and first took the water and then started to munch on some berries from the offered pouch.

Silence spread once more between the two of you. Before Astarion broke it again: “Listen, Tav, darling, I know this must be because you’re letting me drink your blood so often.” You immediately wanted to start protesting but the vampire hushed you, brows furrowed.

“No, for once, you’ll let me do the talking. Don’t think I’m blind – your form has been declining for quite some time now. We can’t go on like this. I mean, Halsin has also noticed already.” You stayed silent and kept popping berries in your mouth and silently thanked the druid for his kind gesture – even if you didn’t want the others to know of this weakness. You slowly started to feel better.

“As much as I enjoy our little late night… sessions. We should probably take a break – at least concerning these particular ones. And maybe later, keep longer breaks in between if you insist to keep throwing yourself at me to drink your blood”, Astarion continued and sighed theatrically.

He tried so hard to be sarcastic about the whole thing, but you noticed that he was actually worried, judging by the guilty glint in his red eyes. And maybe it was that the blood loss was affecting your brain too much but you stared at him and just dryly said: “You know, you could just admit that you care about me, Astarion.”

The vampire huffed in surprise, then he sneered with a click of his tongue: “Bah, of course I do, you seem to be the only one to get this group of clowns to work together after all. It’s not like I care for you much as a person. As a blood bag maybe, but other than that…”

You pursed your lips and let him ramble, digging his own verbal grave by trying to talk himself out of it.

You didn’t even reply afterwards, just let him steep in the own awkwardness he created.

You kept looking at him – even offered him a berry, he scrunched his nose at – then shrugged and ate it yourself.

You slowly opened your water bottle…

“Okay, maybe a little. Tiny bit. Because you’re the only one in the group who seems to have a real sense of humour – at least when you’re not lying in the dirt being a dried out husk”, Astarion exclaimed.

You grinned at him wolfishly and shook the last of the berries from the small bag into your mouth ignoring his insult. “Now, wasn’t even that hard, was it? I really like you to, Astarion”, you said and then slowly stood up – careful not to immediately make a fool of yourself again.

“I liked you better when you were staring at the dirt up close”, the vampire replied and jumped up while crossing his arms over his chest, then sauntered away.

“Sure, if that’s what you need to tell yourself”, you kept teasing and slowly went after the brooding vampire.

You met up with the rest of the camp then went on your way for the rest of the day. The others were already so used to the two of you missing from the camp at the same time (mostly during nighttime, of course) that they didn’t even look up when the two of you came back.

Later when you all had settled down for the night you saw that Astarion went over to Halsin and talked to him softly. They both threw you looks in between which made you uncomfortable because you certainly could imagine what the topic was. Before Astarion had also made sure you’d gotten the first serving of tonight’s dinner (and also seconds).

Even later when the others were already at rest the vampire confessed, he’d been asking the druid about how he could go about drinking your blood without putting too much of a strain on you. Again, you noticed that he seemed not only concerned about his blood rations when he explained that to you.

The next days you also noticed that Astarion had started carrying some water and the bag from Halsin containing the berries.

And you thought to yourself that – for a blood bag – Astarion seemed to put an awful lot of thought and action into making sure you were okay.

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