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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 3 days

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Burn

My heart always hurts when I watch the cutscene where Astarion burns under the sun. Dammit Larian Studios

Summary: You chase after Astarion when he runs away from the rising sun and remind him that you chose him.

You watch as blue lines crawl across his skin, steam rising as the sun eats away at him once more, now that he is free of the parasite. You hear the panic and sadness in his voice as reality sets in — he is no longer immune to the sun, condemned forever to live in the shadows. His ruby red eyes lift to meet yours as his skin scorches, an apology falling from his lips and he rushes to find shelter before you can say anything.

“Astarion!” You shout, watching his fading figure. He doesn’t look back, of course he doesn’t, he doesn’t have the time to when all he can think about is how his skin is searing. Your other companions remain rooted but your legs find an extra burst of energy and soon you find yourself hot on your lover’s trail, desperate to find him.

“Astarion!” You call out, panting from the exertion. Running like that just after defeating a Netherbrain was not a good idea, and you can feel your head spinning. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to steady yourself and lean against the nearby wall, getting as much air into your lungs as possible.

“Astarion,” you gasp, forcing yourself to keep moving, telling yourself that the vampire was suffering more than you were. You stagger onwards, barely remembering where you last saw him and pray that he hasn’t gotten far.

You make your way to a stack of crates hidden behind a docked ship and find a figure huddled in the corner, shaking. You stumble towards the figure, fingers hastily fumbling for the clasp of your cloak which you throw around the figure’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Star,” you breathe, relieved. You feel his arms slide around your waist tentatively, cautiously hugging you back.

“Why are you here?” He whispers. The scent of your lifeblood fills his nose, causing fangs to peek out but he holds himself back, holds the hunger back.

“For you, of course.” You continue to hold onto him tightly. “I’m not leaving you alone, not ever.”

“Why?” He can feel you, feel your warmth, your touch, but a part of him still nags at him, trying to convince him that this is all just a dream, that you want nothing to do with him, not when he is confined to the darkness. He runs his fingers through your hair, taking in the fact that you’re here with him, that you came for him when you could be out in the new dawn with the others.

“Why? Because I love you, I’m hopelessly in love with you and I don’t want a future without you.” Your fingers ghost over the burns, an ache in your heart when you see how badly the sun has burnt him. Even as the sun scorched him, he still took the time to apologise, to look you in the eye, to tell you of how much he enjoyed the journey.

“Even if it means being unable to live in the day? Being unable to feel the sun on your skin?” The words cause a lump to form in his throat. He wants to push you away, tell you to find someone else, someone better. You deserve so much better than whatever he can give you, you deserve to be able to live with the sun warming your skin, you deserve —

“Yes. I know what it means to be in a relationship with you, I know it means never seeing the sun again, never feeling its warmth, but it’s a price I’m willing to pay if it means I get to spend the rest of my life with you.” The fierce fire he fell in love with back then burns in your eyes, daring him to deny you your choice and he feels himself falling for you all over again.

Your devotion to the people you care about, the lengths you would go for each of them, the love you had for those around you. He had once found all these traits foolish, but now they were his saving line, the reason you were currently kneeling by his side, tenderly caressing the rough burnt skin of his cheek as you firmly declared your intent to remain by his side for the rest of your life.

You pull the cloak over his head and shoulders, ensuring they cover as much of his skin as possible.

“I look terrible, don’t I?” He gives a hollow laugh.

“And yet still so beautiful. It’s not fair how you can pull that off.” You chuckle, tilting your head to offer your neck to him.

“Drink up,” you say with a smile so bright it blinds him. “Then we’ll head back to Elfsong Tavern and discuss what to do next.”

He tugs at the cloak around him. It smells of you, the scent deep and warm. He buries himself in it, grateful for the protection it provides and gently rests his lips against your bare neck. His fangs prick your skin, and then dig deeper as blood begins to flow into his mouth. The cracking blue lines on his skin start to fade, his usual pale likeness coming back as he drinks your precious lifeblood, savouring every drop freely given.

“Thank you,” he whispers against your neck.

“Anytime,” you murmur back, holding him close. It always brings a sense of comfort, feeling him in your embrace, breathing in his scent. You hold him for a while longer, basking in the feeling of his cold undead skin against your warm living skin until the others find the both of you.

Your group makes its way back to Elfsong Tavern while shielding Astarion from the sun’s rays. The walk is filled with a quiet yet comfortable silence, exhaustion from the day’s fight and thoughts of the future that lay ahead setting in.

Everyone files into their own rooms, leaving you and Astarion standing in the corridor, facing one another.

“You really mean it?” He asks. He has to confirm, he has to make sure that he is making the right decision to entrust a part of his future to you.

“Mean what?” You tilt your head quizzically.

“That you don’t mind staying with me.” He shifts his weight from one leg to another, playing the corners of the cloak over his head.

“I mean it. We’ll find a way to get you walking in the sun again, and if we cannot, then I don’t mind spending the rest of my life in the shadows.” You take his hand in yours, squeezing it tightly. “You’re all I need, you’re all I want in this future of my choosing. I hope I’m in the future you choose as well.”

In the future he chooses? He…oh right. Cazador is dead, there is no master to tell him what to do, to control his every move. He can decide what he wants to do next, where he wants to go, who he chooses to spend his time with.

And he wants to spend it all with you.

“Of course you are, my love. There’s no one else I’d rather have.” He flashes his usual smile, eyes softening at the way you light up upon hearing his words.

“Then…let’s start planning it, together.”

“Together.” He agrees, liking the way his new future sounds. Even if he had to skulk in the shadows for eternity, maybe such a life wasn’t so bad with you around. He would have you to wake up to, be able to hold you, be loved by you, even if he had to burn under the sun.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion romance #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #durgestarion

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bg-brainrot · 2 days

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To Be Known (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: Astarion reads a book and wonders what it means to be known.

Tags: Astarion's POV, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Comfort, Vampire Spawn Astarion, set in Act 3 but pre-Cazador, Astarion is Bad at Feelings,

A/N: Disclaimer up top: I'm not abandoning any of my other fic! Promise! Just trying to get over a tough month and get back into the swing of things :'D

Also, based on the quote: “To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is like being loved by God.” (disclaimer: I’m not religious, and I know this quote comes in a few different forms, but google told me about this version so I stuck to it.)

Word count: ~2.1k

“To be fully known and truly loved is as if you are loved by the gods,” Astarion reads aloud, to no one in particular.

A silence follows, wherein his mind repeats the words he’s just read, absorbing none of them. To be fully known and truly loved… The words don’t seem to stick.

Finally deciding that the sentence isn’t worth his effort, he tosses the book onto his bedroll with a groan. “What rubbish.”

Outside of this author's haughty approach to prose, Astarion doesn’t particularly care to think too deeply about what it means to be loved– especially by any godsforsaken deities.

He has only just come around to the idea of love, not that he’s said the word ‘love’ to you just yet. It felt too much, too heavy a word to carry considering all of the other burdens the two of you bore between you. But the idea of it? Well, he was warming up to it. And with every moment shared between you, he believes he may be warming up all the more.

But what does being known have to do with love? No, that concept has him pulling his brows together, getting up from his bedroll and putting distance between himself and the drivel that Gale had recommended to him.

That’s what I get for listening to the damned wizard’s tastes, he thinks, shaking his head slightly. Some philosophical prattle, just as verbose as he is.

But even as he stands, brushes himself off, shoves the book away to the furthest corner of his tent before he makes to leave, the question of being known never escapes him.

What does it even mean to be known? he wonders, now lost in thought as he emerges from his tent. How could anyone know me, after all I’ve been through… do I even know who I am anymore?

The idea hangs over him, trails him like a storm cloud as he begins stalking about the camp you’ve all set up in the outskirts of Rivington. He’s not sure where his feet are leading him other than away– away from the distasteful book, away from away from your knowing gaze, which would only pry his thoughts out of him.

Much to Astarion’s disappointment, the trail he takes doesn’t stop the winding path his thoughts have taken.

Have I ever been known? he wonders, vaguely registering the breeze in his hair and the distant sounds of running water as he travels further and further from camp.

Perhaps I was once upon a time, but I could hardly be expected to remember now, could I? The thought is bitter and unwelcome, though likely true. He brusquely swats a branch out of his way and continues into a bramble unrepentantly. Gods, how can he bring himself to care about something as trifling as nature when he’s quite busily lost in thought right now, thank-you-very-much.

Astarion releases a sigh as he finally fights his way into a copse of trees. Secluded, finally.

Alone.

With his thoughts.

Which won’t seem to quiet despite the soft chittering of small animals, nor the sickly sweet smell of flowers in the air.

Why are some pitiful poet’s ‘words of wisdom’ even bothering me? he thinks as he lowers himself onto the trunk of a fallen tree. What’s even the use in being known?

Astarion crosses his legs in front of him, watching with narrowed eyes as his boots press into the soft grass, crushing it easily. There is no use to being known, he decides as he presses harder with one foot and the grass is further flattened. To wish that is…

His foot twists down even more firmly.

Pathetic, Astarion thinks, lifting his boot back up to see his handiwork. The grass lies flat, thoroughly smashed by him. This world is simply about being the one who tramples, and not the one being trampled.

That thought oddly comforts him. He knows the push and pull of power well enough– this dynamic is second nature to him. Like an old, threadbare blanket, it wraps around his shoulders, providing no warmth, but plenty of familiar reassurance.

It’s moments later that the blanket is wrenched from him and he’s laid bare once more, under the startling sunlight of your attention.

“Astarion?”

Your voice pierces through his thoughts, and his instinctual answering emotions are new to him. Surprise. Elation. Relief.

The vampire had been utterly unprepared to hear your voice, convinced he’d found a spot away from you all. Convinced that you wouldn’t be here with your thoughtful gaze– not now, while he’s still busy sorting through a myriad of questions. But he still can’t deny the way he welcomes your presence.

He suspects that your perceptive gaze can easily catch that, despite the way his shoulder’s tense and the way his head turns away, his ears still tilt back toward you, ready for your next words.

“Astarion, there you are,” you say. He hears the same emotions he feels in your voice. How odd it feels to be mirrored by you. He can’t deny enjoying that either. “What’s the matter? When I couldn’t find you around camp, I thought the worst might have happened."

The man scoffs, trying his best to sound unaffected by your sudden arrival, refusing to meet your inquiring gaze. “And what, pray tell, did you assume could have happened?”

“We’re practically at the Gate, Astarion. Anything could have happened. Need I remind you what happened to Dribbles?” you respond, voice tight with worry.

Ah yes. The dead clown. “It will take more than a shapeshifter to take me out, darling,” he retorts, still refusing to turn toward you, now dutifully inspecting his nails.

You let out a small huff of disapproval. “And what about Cazador?”

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” Astarion replies, though the thought of being caught unawares by Cazador bristles at him. If he did get caught, it would be entirely Gale’s fault for lending him that book… He shakes his head of white curls and continues, “Besides, I barely got more than a few dozen yards away before you came chasing after me. I could hardly be in any real danger.”

When you sigh, he finally turns to face you. The expression you give him then isn’t frustration, nor anger– it’s an unusual mixture of worry and… joy? “I couldn’t help but chase. Would it be pathetic to say that I miss you when you’re gone for too long?” you respond.

He’s not sure he has an answer to that.

Especially when he feels pathetic for how light his undead heart feels at the statement.

Astarion drops his head, avoiding your gaze, and hoping you don’t catch the startled happiness on his face.

When it’s clear he doesn’t have a response for you, you change the subject as you close the distance between you, “So, what brought you out here?”

“Nothing,” he replies, too easily. You know it’s a lie. He knows that you know it.

“Nothing, eh?” you ask, finding a seat next to him on the fallen tree. “What about that nothing has you running into the woods?”

“I was not running,” he defends, with a click of his tongue. “I was taking a brisk stroll.”

“Fine then,” you relent, elbowing his arm gently. “What about it led to a ‘brisk stroll’?”

There’s no use hiding from them, is there? he thinks, leaning back on the trunk. “I’ll tell you,” he begins, staring out into a bush. “But only if you answer a question for me.”

“Anything,” you say, and he can feel your shrug on his arm.

“Who am I, really?”

You still. Astarion had expected no less. After all, it’s not an easy question to answer– even for him. He’s putting quite a lot of undue pressure onto you with the question, it’s selfish really… but he can’t help but want to be selfish around you.

So he lets the question settle into the silence.

When you finally speak, your voice is crisp in the muted sounds of the clearing. “Promise you won’t care for me any less after I answer you?”

Astarion snaps his head back at you, his mouth turning down in a frown. “Well that depends, my dear. What are you planning to say?”

“Promise?” you press.

As if he could care any less for you– he would have done so already if he could. “I promise,” he murmurs reluctantly. “Now, please, the suspense is really too much.”

“You are Astarion,” you start, reaching out for his hand. He cautiously places his in yours, unable to hide the twitch of a smile as your warm fingers lock with his. “You’re a beautiful, elven vampire, with silver hair, and red eyes. You’re talented, witty, and…”

Your voice trails off, and Astarion can’t help but wonder why you’d been so hesitant to answer. So far, he is loving this answer.

“And you’re an absolute arse at times.”

“Excuse me?” he gasps, moving to pull his hand out of yours.

You don’t release it, but you do continue, “You laugh at the misfortune of others, you steal, you lie, you cheat at games, you can be incredibly selfish.”

“Darling, are we certain you care about me after all this?” he grumbles, giving up on fighting your grip on him as your words wash over him. He knows all of this, of course, has been entirely unashamed of it all before… but it feels different when you say it. When you lay it out plainly before him.

“Yes,” you answer quickly, tugging on his hand gently. “Because all of that makes you you. And, personally, I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

He blinks at you, confused on how you arrived at this conclusion.

“You are so unabashedly you, love. And I adore that. I know it might not feel like it after all you’ve been through… but you are still yourself. No one has been able to take that from you.”

Now Astarion stares at your intertwined hands, wondering if he deserves such impassioned, absurd words said in his defense. His voice comes quietly when he asks his next questions, “And how do I know that’s who I have always been? Who I was meant to be?”

You bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a soft, warm kiss before you continue, “Astarion, I don’t know what might have bothered you, but I want you to know that, no matter what it was, you’re amazing as the man you are. Whoever you were, whoever you think you were meant to be, you should be proud of who you are now. And… once we deal with Cazador, I hope you have the chance to rediscover that man.”

Astarion hadn’t meant this to be some kind of journey of self-discovery– really, he’d only been irked by the needless philosophy of the book Gale had lent him. But, hearing you say those words, it feels as if some weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

Worry, he realizes. Of losing who he was, of course, but also of being utterly, desolately unknown. Naturally he needn’t have worried because here you are, ready and willing to understand him. To accept and care for him, even while knowing him, flaws and all.

Maybe being known wasn’t such a burden. Not if it were by you.

“Yes, well,” he begins, suddenly unsure what to say to your earnest words. “Thank you for that, I think. Though, really, I could have done without all of the barbs. It feels like I've been struck by psychic damage.” Astarion gives a dramatic head loll, averting his flustered face.

You laugh and squeeze his hand. “Well, it’s a good thing I have no clue how to deal psychic damage, but I’ll be sure to get Gale right over if you need a good jostle to the brain.”

Gale’s done enough of that, Astarion thinks. But he doesn’t say so to you. Instead, the man simply shakes his head. “I’m quite alright. Speaking of the rest of those fools, they’ve likely begun to burn the camp down without us. Shall we head back?”

While the trek to the clearing had been filled with spiraling thoughts and matters of the self, Astarion finds that the journey back is filled with far more soft touches and kisses– Not that he minds.

In fact, he thinks with a smile, as you both walk together, practically falling into each others’ arms. Maybe this was who I was meant to be all along.

That night, once he’s settled back into his tent for bed, Astarion reads the passage once more, “To be fully known and truly loved is as if you are loved by the gods.”

Astarion is certainly no closer to believing in the gods’ willingness or ability to love him, but he could hardly care. No, he suspects that he knows what a god’s love is– after all, if you truly love him, fangs, scars, and all… well, that may very well be divine.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #rogue + rogue #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion fluff #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion is bad at feelings #astarion comfort #spawn astarion #astarion pov

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avenananana · 3 days

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doodle of this

#astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion fanart #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate fanart #astarion bg3 #bg3 tav

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falling-heights · 2 days

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Love at first taste

Since the last one around this subject seemed to do so well, I thought I would make another that's maybe a little less smug.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion bg3 #bg3 companions #bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 art #bg3 fanart #astarion art #astarion fanart #yall its not my fault #my art

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lakefu · 1 day

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Obsessed with how enthusiastic Astarion is about Abdirak's Loviatar trial 🤭

#FREAK #i love him #need him #astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #my screenshots #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion

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scarlet-ancunin · 1 day

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Shh We Are Not Alone

One of the things you learned while being with Astarion is once he sets his mind on something he will do it. Even if the man can't think of a proper plan.

Which is why it wasn't a surprise when he comes to you one day and informs you that he will be with you even if he is not there physically. "Huh?" You looked at him confused but he just gave you that lopsided smile and simply said "don't worry about it love"

So you did just that not worry about it. The days you had to go out you grab your pouch wondering why it was heavy but you just assume you still had things you) didn't sell yet.

Little did you know a small white head with large bat ears a white curl in the middle two cute red eyes peeking from the pouch watching where you were going

When you reached the Blushing Mermaid you sat in the corner to wait for your next assignment or rather side quest and when he comes you were surprised to see Wyll coming over and smiled "hey Wyll long time how is the blade of frontiers" he chuckles and started to express how everything was going so far and how he still needed help with some of the request the civilization asked for.

While talking you don't hear or feel Astarion slip out your bag and make his way up the wall and now watching you from above.

You feel a set of eyes on you but you weren't sure where. You would look around at times and before you know it Wyll asked if you was okay.

"Shh i don't think we are alone here" you whispered to Wyll who raised a brow "we are not this place is packed with people-" "no no like watching and listening to us specifically" Wyll nods and looked around now.

Soon enough Wyll looked up and there he was in all his tiny glory staring right back at Wyll "i think i found our culprit" Wyll said amused and you looked confused before you follow his line of sight.

You could feel your eye twitch lightly already knowing who exactly that was above them "Astarion seriously!? Get down here and how did you even get here without me-" you realized why your pouch was big.

Later while walking back home a familiar head pops out from your light armor you roll your eyes "you know your cute in this form so i wont be mad but you have to at least tell me you can turn into a bat. You look so cute" you teased and Astarion bites your finger that you had decided to pet the top of his head. You sighs but laugh.

Lets just say ever so often you had to endure tiny eyes watching you everywhere you go but on the bright side it came in handy when bandits thought you was alone.

"Well that was fun~, lets do this again darling" Astarion says happily.

⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆⋆♱✮☽🦇☽

A/n: more Batstarion for you~

Request open~

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nikoadmeliora · 3 days

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🩸

#my art #astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate fanart #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate astarion

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dhampling · 2 days

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"two of us could be dangerous"

#my caps #astarion #bg3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate astarion #astarion baldurs gate #astarion bg3 #astarion x reader #ascended astarion

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vyjuarts · 2 days

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Draw me like one of your French bats, darling! 🌹

To show my deep appreciation for @larvasmoon's amazing creative work, I bring you my little crack headcanon of how bat!Astarion would act when sweet Selene does a painting of him in the captivating fic "Portrait of the Pale Elf".

For perspective, he is on a small shelf, so Selene can look at him easier to capture his devastatingly well styled locks of fur.

I highly recommend this fic! It has angst, happiness, hotness and we really dislike Tav in this household. ✨

Day 5 - Drawing, the prompt for my little piece for the ongoing @bg3-apprecimaytion's Apprecimaytion event to appreciate all the hard work and creativity of other creators in the bg3 fandom. 💙

Look at that smug face 😅

Standalone under the cut:

#bg3 #digital art #art #digital illustration #bg3 astarion #procreate #artwork #astarion #illustration #baldurs gate astarion #bat astarion #batstarion #bg3 art #astarion bg3 #bg3 fanart #bg3apprecimaytion2024 #bg3apprecimaytion

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jeneralmischief · 2 days

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Lmao, this felt appropriate XD (last time it crossed the dash, there was a mobile game ad. I think this is better XD)

Post above the Astarion react is by @kingthunder my phone screenshot cut it off, and I hate that it looks like it's my post when it's not ^^; lol

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate astarion #astarion

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utterdrip · 12 hours

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part v of favorite line reads by neil

-> these compilations are meant to showcase neil’s talent & help people hear dialogues they may never hear otherwise!

#frankie posts #bg3 spoilers #astarion #bg3 #bg3: vid #astarion acunin #astarion baldurs gate #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #starry comp #neil newbon

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dailyastarionpics · 19 hours

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lynnlovesthestars · 6 hours

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dadstarion crumbs pls?

hiii, i wrote this a while back, its short but i hope youll like it<33

So many times Astarion dreamt of this day.

He would never forget the night he made love to you so intensely, so deeply, that you ended up carrying the seed of your love.

During the pregnancy he would care for you so much, from drawing you warm baths and massaging you back, to holding up your hair and making you soup.

At night he would hold you close protectively, daring anyone to try and hurt you. His hand always rested on the swell of your belly as he kissed your forehead.

Then time flew, the changes to your body would get him so emotional, to the point that one morning, as you were standing in front of the mirror, gently caressing where the baby would have been, that he cried as he wrapped his arms around you.

He was so proud, he would show you off. Whenever one of your friends would come over, he'd keep you close and praised you for being so strong.

On the topic of praises, Astarion could spend the whole day reminding you how beautiful you were carrying that tiny life in you. He'd kiss your belly and then your heart, before worshiping you like his goddess.

Later in the pregnancy, when your body would ache, he'd made sure you could rest as much as possible. He'd take all your errands and complete them before you even had the chance to get up from the nest he made for you.

When pain would jolt through you, he'd try to caress it away. "My love, I wish I could take your pain away" He'd trace soothing shapes while holding you to his chest.

He'd wipe away your tears as you clung to him, weak. "Darling, you are so strong, carrying our precious baby in you, and enduring all this pain."

Then before he could even process, the day had arrived.

He had prepared your morning bath, and helped you in the water. You'd rest against his chest, as he absorbed all your body heat. He'd make sure to clean every inch of your skin, while washing away the sleepiness off your bodies.

Until the sharp pain hit you, so bad you couldn't sit straight. He'd help you breathe, just how Halsin and Shadowheart taught you. He'd wipe away the tears, hoping that the pain would be just fleeting, but a while later, as you were reaching for your night robe, another bolt of pain hit you.

Astarion guided you up the bed, drying off your forehead as you'd wince in pain over and over, until he came to the conclusion that it wasn't the random pain you'd feel through the day, but the contractions.

He wouldn't hesitate to reach for the scroll he kept on his nightstand, ready for use as suggested by the druid.

Then, before he could even process, all your friends crowded your bed chamber. You'd still lay there, your body trembling and aching while everyone rushed back and forth.

Astarion on the other hand, took it on him to cradle you to him. "You can do it, my love. Our baby is almost here" He'd whisper lovingly.

Before another contraction would hit, another bath was drawn for you.

Astarion once more guided you to it. He was ordered to stay just at the edge of the tub, holding you from there, until you were barking at everyone. You wanted him closer, there with you as fear started swirling along all those overwhelming feelings.

He'd smugly smile at Shadowheart as he took you in his arms again. Your safe space, you called it.

He'd help you out to keep the squatting position, while contractions became quicker and stronger.

You'd rest your forehead against his as you couldn't hold back the tears anymore. "You are almost there, my sweet" He was no longer whispering, for once he'd let everyone hear his love as his fingers held your hips.

"Just one more one my love, you are so strong" He'd hold one of your hands as you were rocked by the water. He'd encourage you as you pushed, and pushed, and pushed, until a cry echoed in the room.

He still held you close while Jaheira cleaned you up, and healed the broken skin.

The time stopped though as Halsin finally put the tiny creature in your arms. His eyes were a fountain as he admired how you held your baby, how you'd introduce him.

"Look, my sun" You'd whisper as the tiny hand clasped at your index finger. "That’s your dada" You'd coo as you'd point at him.

The kind of sound that Astarion made was everything: a sob so full of joy. Then you'd invite him to hold the baby, and his heart felt so full.

He swore to himself that he'd protect you with his everything, your little family.

He was so afraid of accidentally hurting the baby as he traced the soft cheeks with his finger, and before he could process, the baby's tiny lips twisted in the most heart shattering smile.

Every sound was distrant as he'd be lost in your little bubble. You three sat there just taking each other in.

No one dared to break that little corner of heaven, until Gale's sob caught the pointy ears.

When Astarion would look up, his friends were all still there. Karlach, Gale and Wyll trying to hold the tears back, passing each other tissues as they wept.

Shadowheart and Halsin were trying to get Lae'zel to reason, as she wanted the baby to hold their first dagger.

Jaheira instead came near the three of you, still in each other's embraces.

"Little cub, you should move to the bed and rest" She'd offer her hand to get you all out of the water.

The baby rested in your arms, against your chest as he reached for your towel, wrapping it around your shoulders. He'd take his towel as well, and an extra one, big enough for the little one, before joining you in your bedchamber.

Nothing else matters but the two of you laying in bed. The baby asleep on your chest as you'd finally allowed the tiredness to dawn on you.

You'd look outside the window, the first lights of the morning warmed up the sky with pink hues. Their little sun, they shared the thought while your friends were already fighting for the baby.

Who was gonna hold them first. Who was gonna spoil them. Who would be the cool one. And Karlach was ready to claim those all, whether she had to rage or not.

That's when it hit Astarion. Your family wasn't little, as he called it earlier. It was crowded, full of love and maybe one day he'd admit he didn't mind all these /annoying friends clogging the corners of the home and burst the peace of their walls.

When you awoke, hours later, he was still there. The small bundle of joy laid in his arms as he cradled them closer to his chest.

“you should rest too” you grogged as you smiled softly, your chest swelling at the sight.

He raised his eyes, from the baby to yours, still aching despite looking so peaceful, his eyes swollen from tears.

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