#dadstarion fic
Note
GINAAA MY GIRL!
Sending you a dadstarion prompt because you already know I LOVEEE your dadstarion content.
How did Tav find out she was pregnant with baby Gale? And how did Astarion react to the news?! Inquiring minds want to know.
To have and to hold.
Such a lovely prompt, my friend! Hope you like it!
Summary: Astarion turned mortal a few months ago, and this is his first-time experiencing illness of any kind. Unfortunately, as soon as he recovers, you start to show signs of sickness as well. Your condition is a bit different from his, though. (For more of this series check out the ‘Dadstarion’ section of my master list.)
Tags/Warnings: Dadstarion, domestic af, fluff, talk of illness, talk of vomiting, the mildest of angst with the mostest of comfort, pregnancy, etc.
A/N: I work in healthcare, not law, so I can’t guarantee the legalese is accurate lol.
Word count: 2.3K
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“Don’t come closer, darling, I’m disgusting.” Astarion groans from where you find him one morning, curled up on the bathroom floor.
It had been a few months since Gale of Waterdeep cast Wish, and from that moment until now the retired rogue had been a happy, healthy mortal. There were so many benefits to curing his vampirism that the elf never fully considered one of the major downsides… illness.
He’d never experienced a malady like this in his life. At least not in the one he could remember.
It’s horrible.
How had his little love or any of his friends endured this, more than once, in the past ten years?
Astarion is quite certain he contracted food poisoning from that questionable slab of salmon he ate at the Blushing Mermaid yesterday evening. He never did understand why you liked eating at that lowbrow tavern in the first place.
You crouch to examine your husband, pressing a soothing hand onto his forehead before running it down to cup his cheek.
“Astarion, my love, you have a fever.” You murmur, frowning with concern as you push sweaty curls from his face.
“Please make more obvious observations, dear,” Astarion gripes as he forces himself to sit up, still clutching his stomach. Gods, the vile churning in his gut is incessant.
He’s about to continue on with his quip, but the sudden urge to be sick forces the elf to shut up and scramble to the toilet. You hear the sounds of violent retching moments later.
“We are never going back to the Blushing Mermaid,” Astarion grumbles once the wave of illness subsides. His face is pressed against the toilet; all sense of decorum is gone. The rotten fish poisoning his insides won over any bits of pride he might have been clinging to.
You move to grab a wash rag, dampening it under the tap before kneeling back down by your husband.
“Poor thing,” You coo, folding the cloth in half before dabbing it against the back of Astarion’s neck, hoping to ease the fever.
The elf’s eyes flutter closed as he allows you to fawn over him for a moment. And then he groans and flicks his hand, palm faced downward, as if trying to shoo you away. His voice is hoarse when he says, “Just leave me here and go get ready for your meeting, darling. I’ll be fine.”
“In sickness and in health, remember?” You ask, running the cool cloth over Astarion’s face, causing him to sigh thankfully at the slight relief, “I’ll send word to the other Counsellors to inform them that I won’t be attending. You’ve never been ill before; I don’t want to leave you like this. Wyll can fill me in later.”
“Yes, ‘in sickness and in health’ and all that, darling, but those vows also included ‘until death do us part’ and I was an immortal vampire when we made them. So you were technically entering that verbal contract under false pretenses, which one could argue means it’s null and void. Go to the meeting, it’s—“
Astarion almost manages to finish his rambling legalese before more putrid liquid spews out of his mouth. When he’s finished vomiting, he whines again, any bit of stubborn resilience and feeble attempts at selflessness abandoned.
“On second thought, maybe you should stay here,” He says, his chest heaving with exertion as he clenches his eyes shut, “Please tell me you have a spell for this.”
“Unfortunately not, my love. I only have a spell for curses. Best I can do is half a bottle of Elixir of Health, some ginger-peppermint tea, and a bath.” You sigh, already crossing the bathroom on your way to the tub. You fiddle with the taps for a moment to start the bath and then begin to pour oils into the flowing water.
“Deal,” Your husband mutters, peeling off his sweat-soaked night shirt, “But none of that vile honey you got at the market here in town for my tea; I want the one Shadowheart and Lae’zel sent from Neverwinter.”
“Anything you say, Lord Ancunin.” You joke, rolling your eyes at your husband’s fussiness. He’d barely regained his sense of taste a few months ago and already favored upscale ingredients and meals, as if mortal food hadn’t been but ash in his mouth for two hundred years.
The elf glares at your insolence but doesn’t retort; he’s too busy trying to keep himself from vomiting again.
*
The following morning, Astarion wakes feeling much better. Practically brand new, in fact. It seems the potion and your strange flower child medicine must have done the trick. He sighs a breath of relief and then rolls to snuggle against you for a few more precious moments. He reaches his arms out and grasps at nothing but air.
The silver-haired elf immediately frowns and sits up. That’s exceptionally odd. You were not a morning person; you never had been in the ten years he’d known you. You always slept in longer than him, even in the wilds. On more than one occasion he’d had to lure you out of your nearly comatose slumber with the tempting smells of coffee and breakfast.
Astarion hears you gagging in the bathroom and goes to investigate. He soon finds you clinging to the toilet, practically mirroring how he looked the day prior.
“Oh no, little love, do you think you have food poisoning, too?” He questions, frowning slightly before kneeling down to press his hand against your forehead just like you’d done to him, “No fever, though.”
You whine, leaning into your husband’s hand before grumbling, “Damn the Blushing Mermaid straight to Stygia! Why do I even like that place, again?”
Astarion laughs, “I’ve been wondering the same thing for years, dear. I hope now you’ll finally reconsider. Do you want some tea and a bath?”
“Please,” You say, just before another wave of nausea hits you, forcing you to throw your head into the toilet and gag. Frustratingly, not much actually comes out despite the waves of sickness coursing through your body.
Gods, you wish you could simply vomit and feel relief.
Astarion begins to prepare the appropriate remedies, much like you’d done for him the day before. Thankfully, you seem to recover much faster than he did, and by midday you look and feel completely normal.
Good thing, too. You two were out of any elixirs that may have helped you had your ailment been as severe as Astarion's.
“Perhaps I’m just a better healer than you, darling.” The silver-haired elf teases as the two of you take afternoon tea in the sunroom.
“Perhaps I’m just stronger and more resilient than you, my love.” You retort, wrinkling your nose in jest at your husband.
He chuckles softly and then presses a kiss to your nose, “Agree to disagree.”
*
Astarion thinks the two of you are past this bit of bad luck, but when he wakes the following morning, he hears you retching once again.
When the elf finds you in the bathroom, appearing as almost an exact repeat of yesterday, though perhaps a bit worse, his brow furrows.
“Darling, I'm worried now. You look more ill than before. Perhaps we should take a trip to Jaheira? I can head to the apothecary for another Elixir of Health while she looks you over.” He murmurs gently, extending his hands to pull you to your feet.
You simply nod in agreement, too nauseated to do more than follow your husband’s lead as he slips you into a set of robes and ushers you into the carriage.
*
When Astarion returns to Jaheira’s after dashing out to the apothecary, he finds you sitting at the druid’s dining table. The two of you stop whatever hushed conversation you’d been having and turn to look at him in unison.
“Feeling any better, Tav?” He asks, coming to stand by your side before placing a worried hand upon your shoulder. You simply cover your hand with his and nod in response.
“Much better,” You say, flashing your husband a small smile. Something about your expression looks hazed, as if you’re stuck in a daydream. Poor thing, you're probably exhausted and experiencing brain fog.
“I’m sure you’ll be just fine with the teas and medicinals I’ve given you,” Jaheira assures, her eyes flickering between the two of you. She grins for the briefest moment before falling back into her typical, more serious demeanor.
Astarion swears he feels like something is off, but when he turns to give you a questioning look, you’re the picture of happiness as you sip from your tea cup, finishing it off.
Well, at least you’re doing what Jaheira has prescribed.
“What about the Elixir of Health I’ve just purchased?” Your husband asks, lifting the bag in his hand, “Will that help?”
“Oh, I recommend you keep it for something else. I don’t think Tav needs it for this,” The druid responds before standing, signaling it’s the end of the visit. She was always quite straight forward and lacking in certain genteel social graces, in Astarion’s opinion.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with the Harpers.”
You quickly bid your goodbyes and Astarion helps you back into the carriage, eager to get you back to bed so that you can sleep off the rest of this sickness.
*
Astarion notices you’re uncharacteristically quiet on the carriage ride home. He typically doesn’t mind when you’re in one of your pensive, stoic moods. But this illness of yours had him more anxious than usual and he had to know more about Jaheira’s examination results, if only to ease his own worries.
“Darling,” He starts, taking your hand in his. But you don’t seem to hear him; you’re still lost in your own little world.
“My love,” He says, this time a bit more urgently, squeezing your hand just enough to pull your attention to him, “What did Jaheira say, exactly? Did she mention how long this illness will last?”
“Oh, the nausea will probably go on for a few weeks,” You reply, a goofy, lopsided smile breaking across your face. You cannot stifle your grin at the little secret you know you’ll be unable to keep for more than a few moments longer.
“Weeks?” Astarion questions, his voice pitching up with worry and brows stitching together in concern.
Why in the hells are you smiling? What druid bullshit was in the tea Jaheira gave you?
He folds his arms across his chest, not at all pleased by the lack of seriousness you seem to display. The idea of you being sick for weeks makes his heart hurt and his stomach churn as if he’s still sick. He could never stand to see you uncomfortable.
“Tav, are you drugged? This is serious. I fail to see what there is to be smiling about right now. You’re going to be nauseous for weeks and you can’t use an Elixir of Health? Are you absolutely sure Jaheira even knows what she’s—“
“I’m pregnant, Astarion,” You interrupt, and you cannot help but to laugh at your husband as his mouth hangs open mid-sentence, frozen in shock.
He blinks for a moment or two, otherwise completely still as his brain rushes to process the new information.
When the elf finally regains his composure and finds his ability to speak, he shoots out a flustered, rambled, “Darling, I— I’m sorry, can you repeat that? I’m not certain I heard you correctly. The road is quite bumpy and the wheels of the carriage are loud— I think they need oil— and the horses—“
You laugh and firmly grasp your husband’s hand, wholly capturing his attention before murmuring, “You ridiculous elf. You heard me the first time. I’m pregnant, Astarion.”
You don’t think you’ve ever seen a bigger grin cross your husband’s face.
“Tav, darling, I— gods, just come here to me.”
Astarion’s lips crash into yours, and he’s smiling into the kiss as he threads a hand through your hair, intent on pressing you closer into him. A tiny, delighted hum escapes your husband as he uses the kiss to express all the feelings he cannot yet put into words.
When he finally pulls away, he cups your face with his hands and peppers a few more kisses upon your lips.
“Is this your way of telling me you’re happy about this, Astarion?” You ask, grinning at your husband as he gazes upon you with the most besotted eyes you’ve ever seen.
“Thrilled, my love,” He whispers, before pressing forward to kiss you again, trying to convey the depth of his excitement with his affections. He doesn’t let go of you the rest of the way home, almost desperate to cover you in worshipful kisses, each one a little vow of love to you.
You notice he's unusually quiet, but then, he’s far too busy smiling and smooching to do much talking.
*
Later that evening, you move to get out of bed and head toward the bedchamber door.
“Ah, ah, ah. Where do you think you’re going, little love?” Astarion calls, already tossing his book aside to follow after you, “What do you need? Let me bring it to you.”
“I just wanted a cup of water, Astarion. I can go get—“ You start, but he quickly presses a kiss to your lips, effectively quieting you.
“Hush, my love. You’re still nauseated and you’re carrying very precious cargo.” He gently chastises as he turns you by your shoulders and steers you back toward the bed.
“You’re being dramatic,” You grumble, sitting back down in the bed and wrinkling your nose at your husband.
“Perhaps,” He agrees, grinning down at you as he gently folds the blankets back around your legs, “But you knew exactly the type of theatrics you signed up for when you married me, darling. 'To have and to hold, to love and to cherish' and all that, hm?”
And in that moment, Astarion was certain he’d never love and cherish anything more than you.
Nine months later, the little silver-haired newborn he held in his arms would prove him wrong.
#astarion fanfic#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#astarion x you#dadstarion fic#dadstarion#papastarion#astarion x f!reader#astarion x female reader#astarion reader insert#astarion fluff#domestic astarion#soft astarion#sweet astarion#comfort fic#bg3 fanfic#bg3 fanfiction#astarion fanfiction#astarion/you#astarion/reader
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Baby Fangs
Synopsis: Baby Alethaine is severely sick, and Astarion is afraid his daughter is going to die.
Tags: hurt/comfort, dadstarion, dhampirs
Alethaine's age: 5 month
Thanks @queenofthespacesquids for beta-reading!
Read on AO3
Masterlist
Headcanons
Astarion has never been so afraid in his life.
Not when he was dying in the streets of Baldur’s Gate. Not when he thought Tiriel had gone. Not when Cazador had inflicted tortures on him.
It just can’t compare to the fear of losing a child.
“She needs to make it till morning,” the healer says. “If she is alive by sunrise, she will get better.”
“But can we do anything?” Tiriel looks as if she is going to fight. “There are healing spells, potions, anything!”
“And most of them aren’t fit for a five month old child. Astarion, Tiriel, I give you my word. I’ve done everything I can. There are probably some clerics and wizards who can heal your child immediately but none of them live in Daggerlake. I am sorry.”
The healer walks away, leaving a dreadful silence in the house.
Astarion sits on the bed, clasping his hands together. Of course, things couldn't be this good. Of course something had to go wrong! How could he have been foolish enough to believe that things could be good for him?
His little daughter, Alethaine, is such a miracle, such a gift. When he first held her in his arms, he dared to hope that everything would be all right from then on. And now they tell him she's dying? That she would be dead by morning?
Alethaine whimpers weakly. She is already too tired to cry.
Tiriel looks terrible. She is a warrior, a fighter, but for the first time in her life, she has no enemy to kill. The enemy is her daughter's fever, and she can't beat it the way she beats monsters.
The baby starts coughing.
Astarion doesn't need to be a vampire to feel his daughter's pain. Her muscles are too tense. Her breathing is ragged and her heartbeat is too weak. Alethaine is suffering at this very moment, and there is nothing her parents can do about it.
Can’t give her medicine. Can’t soothe her pain.
There is a grip of death around her tiny heart and neither Tiriel nor Astarion can unclench it.
Tiriel sits on the bed, cradling Alethaine in her arms. Astarion wraps his hands around them.
“So what do we do?” he asks.
“We wait,” she answers. Her voice sounds exhausted.
He nods.
Yesterday, Alethaine was perfectly healthy. She tried to sit up, but each time her head proved too heavy and she fell on her back. Then her black eyes clouded over and a fever rose. She refused to eat and only cried like a wounded animal.
“What if she doesn’t make it?” Astarion asks.
Tiriel doesn't answer and he sees tears flowing down her cheek. “We will keep living. Could you please bring a blanket?”
Astarion reluctantly lets them go and picks up a thick fur blanket from the floor. Then they sit together with their backs against the wall, covering their sick daughter with the blanket. Only a desperate cough echoes through the room.
Children die all the time. Mostly little kids like Alethaine. Daggerlake isn't a very big town, but Astarion knows that at least three babies have died this year. From disease. Small children like this are too vulnerable. It happens all the time.
There's a chance that tomorrow Astarion will have to dig a grave and put a tiny bundle in there that never had a chance to grow up.
It's so unfair that it makes Astarion want to howl.
"Astarion," Tiriel touches his curls. "Let's talk. The silence is killing me."
“What do you want to talk about, my sweet?”
“I don't know… Anything.” Tiriel places the girl in his hands and Astarion flinches sensing the heat of Alethaine’s body. Fever. A terrible killing fever. “Do you think she is a dhampir?”
“She is an elf like I was before I died.”
When Tiriel was pregnant, he read as much as possible about dhampirs. Deadly and fast, half-vampires don’t need blood and can live in the sun. But they have vampiric strength, can walk on ceilings, and regenerate much faster than mortals. No wonder vampires are often jealous of their children.
But at the same time, the life of a dhampir is full of hardships. Neither a vampire, nor a mortal, they are doomed to be alone. Once they feel bloodlust for the first time and fangs replace the canines, they are outcasts often disowned by their own mortal families.
But does it have to be like that? Astarion has been fighting the odds against his vampiric nature for the last twenty years. Why can’t his daughter?
But Astarion is afraid they will never learn the answer to either of their questions.
Alethaine opens her mouth and makes a deep breath as if suffocating. Something doesn’t allow her to breathe and she makes hissing sounds. Her little eyes are watery - by this time she can only cry.
So can her parents.
“I wouldn’t want to, I think,” Tiriel says. “If she is dhampir it means she is alone. Even if other spawns have children too, what is the chance she will ever meet them?”
Astarion kisses Tiriel’s cheek. if Alethaine dies, they bury her and leave. Daggerlake is a welcoming town but it will be a place of sorrow for them.
Tiriel adjusts herself a bit.
“Fuck” she mutters. Astarion immediately smells the blood. Tiriel’s thumb is bleeding. “A fucking splinter.”
Alethaine cries at the top of her lungs.
Astarion stares at his daughter with shock. She screams with the strength they didn’t know she posseses. It’s desperate. Angry.
Demanding.
This moment she doesn’t sound like a child. She sounds like a little beast.
Before Astarion makes up any coherent thought, Tiriel puts her bleeding thumb to Alethaine’s lips, making the blood pour into her mouth.
“Tiriel, what are you doing?”
Tiriel doesn’t answer. The girl makes sucking movements as her mother squeezes drops of blood from her finger.
And then her dark eyes turn red.
They glow in the half-lit room like two tiny lights.
Tiriel puts her fingers away and Alethaine makes a disgruntled sound. Her elven ears twitch.
The eyes stop glowing so intensely and return to their natural black color.
And then Alethaine laughs.
She is kicking her legs and stretching her arms to her parents.
The girl is happy. Happy like a well-fed vampire.
“Astarion, look at her gums.”
Two baby fangs. Very small, almost kitten-like.
“It wasn’t a fever,” Astarion mutters. “It was a bloodlust.”
Of course… If she was older she would just try to get blood from somewhere.
But when you are five months old you can’t do a lot of things.
Poor girl, how she suffered those two days.
Is dhampir bloodlust the same as vampiric? Was she feeling her stomach being ripped apart, her throat hurting and bleeding? Maybe it was even worse for her? Maybe her mortal nature was fighting the bloodthirsty monster, causing Alethaine to cry in pain?
Helpless baby alone with her pain and fear while her parents didn't think of the most obvious explanation.
**
Astarion sits at the doorstep with a plushie doll in his hands. The toy has white hair and elven ears, and now Astarion is stitching small fangs to its mouth.
The tears prickle his eyes.
He’s condemned his child for a life of hardships. For loneliness, for constant war against herself. If someday Alethaine shows up at his doorstep blaming him for all her tragedies, he will not even try to defend himself.
“No, kitten, I don’t care if you don’t like it! I can’t breastfeed you anymore and I am not giving you any blood! You eat normal food!” He hears Tiriel’s voice from inside the house.
Alethaine isn’t going to comply easily.
Then he hears footsteps from behind.
“What are you doing?” Tiriel asks.
“Adding fangs to her toy.”
Tiriel sits beside him.
“You have mash in your hair.” Astarion notices
“I know. You should see the other girl. How do you feel about giving her a bath?”
“I don't think you should ask. It’s my child. It seems like… even more mine now.”
“Hey, don't be upset. We knew it was possible.”
“I just… Her eyes, Tiriel, you saw them.They were like theirs… My siblings…Cazador… the same fucking glowing eyes as if she was a vampire, too!”
“It’s because of blood. She doesn’t have to drink it, she can eat normal food.”
“We should have found the cure before making a child.”
“But we didn’t find any.”
Tiriel takes a wet piece of rag and wipes her hair. “Astarion, I am going to talk to you seriously and, please, pay attention to every word I say.”
“I am all pointy ears, my love.”
“I was beaten and humiliated daily for who I was. My family didn't even give me a name because they despised me. But when I met elves for the first time they called me “garbage” - Biir. Half-something, half a person. Half elves aren't uncommon. There are surprisingly many in big cities. But I’ve been taught to despise my body, to hate my ears, to be embarrassed of my own existence. And our daughter is a dhampir. And I am sure there aren’t many like her. This world will have a thousand opportunities to shove her differences up to her nose. This world will teach Alethaine to hate herself. I can guarantee you she will try to pull her fangs out or maybe will ask someone to knock them out. She will cover herself not to let people see how pale she truly is. And we must not be a part of her problems.”
“Tiriel, I would never - “
“She is a girl, Astarion. Her image of herself will be formed mostly by you, not by me. The way you will perceive her will be the way she will see herself. And if she sees resentment, if she senses your sorrows that she isn’t a normal child, she will start hating herself. She will feel it. And it will stay with her till her long days are over.”
“Tiriel, what exactly in my behavior tells you that I am going to mistreat her? She is my child! She is…”
“I didn’t mean to ignore the fact she is a dhampir. You must cherish her differences. We must love her for being a dhampir. We must form this idea that it’s good she is a dhampir.”
Astarion chuckles. To be honest, he has never accepted his vampirism. It happened against his will and he would give anything to get rid of it. It is a curse. And now… his daughter is cursed as well.
“Astarion, this is important. Even the tiniest things will affect her. And we will have to deal with the consequences.”
The girl cries for her parents, and Tiriel, planting a kiss on Astarion’s forehead, returns inside.
Several hours later, when a washed and clean-clothed Alethaine is happily lying on her parents' bed and trying to make some coherent movements, Astarion finally finds enough moral strength to accept the reality.
He takes his daughter in his arms and walks up to the ceiling. The girl laughs and tries to bite him.
"Aren't you the cutest dhampir in Faerûn?" he mutters. "I can't wait to teach you how to use those fangs in battle. You will be deadly, my princess! But don't bite your mother, that's my prerogative."
--
Tag list
@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96
#astarion#baldur's gate 3#bg3 astarion#bg3#astarion romance#astarion bg3#baldurs gate 3#astarion x tav#alethaine ancunin#astarion being a dad#dadstarion#astarion fluff#spacebarbarian fics#astarion ancunin#astarion baldurs gate#astarion brainrot#astarion fanfic#tiriel of the sunset mountains#tiriel the barbarian#astarion x tiriel#oc tav: tiriel#dhampirs of the sword's coast
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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.
#dadstarion#baldurs gate 3#bg3#astarion x reader#bg3 astarion#astarion x tav#bg3 x reader#lynn: updates☆#astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion bg3#baldurs gate astarion#astarion acunin#astarion ancunin x reader#astarion angst#astarion baldurs gate#astarion baldurs gate 3#astarion brainrot#astarion fanfic#astarion fanfiction#astarion fic#astarion fluff#astarion headcanon#astarion headcanons#astarion my beloved#astarion posting#astarion x female reader#astarion x female tav#astarion x reader fluff
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My Little Spawn Pt.1 (Dadstarion X Child!Reader)
Summary: Astarion was finally free from Cazador after being kidnapped by a mindflayer but he was stuck with one annoying task, you.
Disclaimer: I do not own Baldur's Gate 3 or any of its characters.
Word Count: 2.1K
Warnings: Use of (Y/N), Cazador, language, spoilers for those who haven't gone far in the game....Uhhh...I think that is all.
Everything was dark and blurry in his eyes. All he remembers was stalking in the shadows looking for his next prey and suddenly he was kidnapped. He felt mixed emotions, fear but importantly joy, he was finally away from Cazador. It would be like he suddenly disappeared in thin air and Cazador will need him no more. Until he was stuck with another burden, You. “Would you keep quiet, dammit!?” He whispered rather loudly. You stopped shifting around the tall grass and peaked out of it. “I’m sorry” You whispered before going back to hiding. He looked over seeing two people walking by, “Perfect” He mutters and gets ready to put on his performance.
After almost getting incinerated, you and Astarion have found a group and camp for the remainder of the period till the little wiggly worm is out of your mind but of course, you wouldn’t comprehend, for you were so young.
“Who’s the little adorable bugger?” Gale smiles letting you try to read the books he has found so far. “For the record this annoying little sp-human is not mine, they just seem to be attached to me.” Astarion watches you trying to pronounce the big words only to butcher them. “But it’s getting rather late and I hate to deal with a cranky annoying child tomorrow.” He picked you up keeping his arms outstretched and walked to his tent. Once everyone was out of earshot, he squats at your height. “Listen here, you must not tell anyone what we are understood?” His red eyes look down at your innocent (E/C) ones. “But why not?” You sat on top of the pillow looking up at Astarion seeing him take a deep breath in. Of course, Astarion knows he has to make it simple. “Because we are playing a game” He grins “ We are all hiding our identity. You and I are a team and the rest are a team. Whoever is the first one to discover their real identity, is the sore loser.” He gives a smile sitting down next to you. You pouted, your cheeks puffed up “We will win, okay! I won’t tell.” You lean back before yawning “ If they ask what do I say?” You cute little doe eyes look at him tiredly. “Hmm…we are just normal elves got it?” He looks away in deep thought, “it’s for the best for now” He mutters before leaning back “ You know for a being the youngest Spawn he created…you still need rest like a human, you are such an odd little creature” He gently plays with the ends of your hair “ Why did he even turn you?” He whispers as you slowly slip into sleep. “What use does he even have for you?” He kept asking himself all the questions ever since you were part of the “Family”
You were the youngest spawn Cazador has ever gotten. You were only 5 soon turning 6. Astarion was first shocked to see Cazador holding you in his arms when he came back from bringing a pretty prey for his master. He never dared question, he kept all his unanswered questions to himself. Astarion felt anger towards you both. Why was Cazador more tender with you, not treating you like he does to his other spawns. Why did you get the special treatment? He was mostly angry towards Cazador as always, why did he turn you, you didn’t even reach your half way milestone of your life. You were going to stay that age and size forever. He has been treated like shit for 200 years but you, you would never experience the things a child should be, the things teenerages and young adults go through. Once again Cazador has robbed you of your life just how Astarion was robbed of his.
Morning rolled by, You picked up a little flower near Gale’s tent, “Astarion! Look what I found!” You ran up to him as he was getting ready to set foot on finding a healer with the others. “What is it this time?” He mutters looking up before seeing a flower being gently shoved to his face. “A flower.” You smile waiting for him to take it. “ A flower…you called my attention for a flower…this is why I don’t work with little annoying monsters.” He sighs already feeling annoyed from the lack of blood. “I’m sorry…” You whisper looking down, putting the flower away from his face, small tears forming in your doe eyes. He stops putting things into his bag and sighs “ Why must you be such a crybaby” He sits down pulling your tiny form on his lap, taking the flower. “Wow, thank you. I feel the luckiest person to get a flower from you.” He says in a bored voice looking at you. You sniff and rub your eyes, “You mean it?” The tears no longer present in your eyes. He looks at you unamused. “Yes, now shoo, I have to pack. Go bother Gale, Shadowheart or even Tav but not me got it?” He makes you get off his lap before freezing feeling you give him a light peck on his cheek “Okay! I’ll collect more flowers for the others!” You giggle before running off. He placed a hand over his cheek and watched the direction you left. “What an odd little spawn.” He whispers before continuing to pack.
You hummed a tune as you collected more flowers near Gale’s camp where Gale was sitting on the pillow, reading a book. He looks up hearing you hum. “Say (Y/n), that tune you must be from the upper city aren’t you?” He smiles placing the book down as your little feet shuffle over to him. “Mmhm! Papa would always sing me this lullaby at night!” You grin “It’s my favorite and he always wants me to sing! He says I’m his little singing bird!” Placing the flowers down, you sat on the ground in front of gale. Thinking back to what Astarion said last night, remembering to not give away too much information. “Judging by your clothes, I bet your father is a rather important man?” He smiles rubbing down those stubborn baby hairs that lift up from your hair. You only nodded “Papa is the best! I miss him and I want to go home…” You look around the wilderness that you and Astarion crashed in. “I want him to hold me close…I always dream of those monsters…and the little wormy” Whimpering you scoot into Gale’s arms. “I don’t want them to come back!” You tear up, “I want papa to hold me but he’s not here!” You wail. Gale quickly panics “Oh…crying child…what to do…wish Tara was here…” He mutters before rubbing your back “Hey now, you can always come to me, Shadowheart and even Tav if you ever have a nightmare. How about this, before you go to bed, I will tell you a story so you can dream of that story rather than the scary monsters. Trust me, I have read so many books, I know them by heart.” He grins as you finally stopped the water works. “Which is why he’s a walking library in this case.” Shadowheart smiles walking over “Now, we should get going, the closer we find a healer, the faster you can go to your papa” She smiles leaning to your height. “Really!” You smiled, your eyes widened at the thought of seeing your father soon. “Let’s go!” Grabbing the flowers, you ran to Astarion to share the news.
“Astarion!”
“What now!?”
Walking to find a healer seems like eternity to you, “I wanna rest!” You whined to Astarion tugging at his shirt. “Then complained to Tav, they are leading the damn group, not me.” He sighs, breathing in heavily to compose himself from lashing out. “Up! Up!” You lifted your arms. “The hell I won’t!” He walks faster only for you to follow him whining even more. The rest of the small group look over watching the two of you, seeing you bothering Astarion even more. “Is it me or do these two know each other very much?” Shadowheart watches you keep tugging on his shirt. “Yet he says he doesn’t know (Y/N), that they only tagged along with him.” Gale crossed his arms. Tav smiles “I don’t know, (Y/n) looks nothing like Astarion so I doubt they are related and (Y/N) always mentions a papa.” Shadowheart and Gale nodded. “What in the nine hells! Where did you go!?” Astarion looks around for you as you stop tugging on his shirt a while ago. “Where did they go?” Tav walks back to the pale elf. “ I don’t know, the moment they were annoying the hell out of me! Next thing I know, they are go- wait…” He smells it, blood. You must have run off to the smell. “ I…um…heard them, this way” He quickly follows the scent with the rest following.
You carefully walked down the ladder, the smell of blood getting stronger. Turning around a corner, you are met with a woman with red skin, burning and importantly with a broken horn. Slowly walking over to the tiefling, you look up at her “Are you okay?” You meekly whisper seeing how tall she was according to your height. She looks up hearing the childish voice, “Hells, what is a child doing all alone?” She looks at you shocked before feeling the tadpoles connect. “Fuck” Karlach whispers holding her head “You were also in that ship…” She whispers before calming herself down and kneels down to make it seem less intimidating to you. “Hey there little soldier, What are you doing all alone?” She smiles as you slowly take small steps towards her. “I…you’re hurt…are you okay?” You go to place your small hand on her but she backs away quickly. “Careful there, I’m not like any other tiefling, I can burn you.” She smiles “I'm Karlach, what’s your name, little soldier?” She chuckles admiring your little face as you try to say her name slowly. “Car…Ka…la…Karlach.” You finally get it right, before giving her your name, someone else beat you to it.
“(Y/N)!?” Tav runs over, crossing the log and quickly pulls you back from Karlach, putting you behind. “Get away from them” Tav frowns weapons out. “Are you okay?” Shadowheart checks you over for any injuries as Gale also checked along with her. Astarion catches up and lets out a small sigh seeing you alive and safe. “What in the sweet hells were you thinking running off like that?! A goblin could’ve gotten you or a wild animal?!” He looks down at you but stops himself seeing you tear up. “I-I’m sorry….don’t get mad like papa!” You cried. “Like papa….” He glares down at you. “Don’t ever compare me to him you litt-” He stops himself seeing the fear in your eyes. Him, being like Cazador. He would rather kill himself than be exactly like his old master. He sighs before kneeling to you as the others were busy with Karlach. “Sorry…I was…I guess you can say I was very worried…I know it wasn’t your intention to run off…” He then whispers “You must be hungry…for blood like me…I know you are craving that sweet and yet bitter flavor but you need to hold it in like I am…tonight we’ll find some small vermin okay?” He slowly pats your head as you nod. Standing up, he walks over to the rest as you follow closely to him. “My, I feel so much better knowing we have a strong wall to protect us from any arrows” He smirks after learning Karlach was recruited. “I like her! She’s nice!” You popped out from behind walking over to Karlach. “And I like you little soldier” She smiles.
After going back to camp for the day, Astarion watches as you listen to Gale’s stories. He sat from his tent looking at a book but his mind wandered back to what you said. Like papa…when has Cazador ever punished you? He thinks back but nothing comes to him. He turns the page to the book to make it look like he was reading. He looks back at you with that question still haunting his thoughts. It really ticked him off when you compared him to Cazador, he will never be like him…no he will be better. He wants to get back at him and back at him good. He smirks looking at you. Why not get him back with the thing he treasures the most, or rather the person he treasures the more.
You
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Authors Notes: Thank you everyone for reading this, please like, reblog and share it with others. I will be working on Part 2 soon hopefully. I also started another series a month ago or more about Astarion and a Gur! Reader. There is only part 1 out as well but I will be working out on that. Please remember to stay hydrated and to get some rest. Love you all! You are welcome to ask to be tagged as well for the next part.
-Axie
#father figure Astarion#astarion#bg3#bg3 astarion#bg3 fic#astarion fic#fatherfigure#dadstarion x child reader#dadstarion#tav#gale#shadowheart#Karlach#baldurs gate 3
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One for the Road
Having acquired himself a brood of many daughters, and with enough years passed since the last was born that he's certain they're done having any more, Astarion is content to be a very happy certified Girl Dad™ to his flock of lovely little feral princesses. Which he's over the moon about, because honestly, what would he even do with a boy? No, he’s quite satisfied with the pack of little gremlins he has, thanks very much, all braids and pink ribbons and lace trim, and he’s not interested in adding to it. He and Tav are living their best No More Babies life. They're consistently sleeping through the night without interruption, they can have a glass (or four) of wine whenever they want, and he can’t remember the last time he’s had to wipe an ass that wasn’t his own. No, their house is FULL and they are DONE. No new Ancunins, shop's closed.
She’s bright red herself, wailing with all the power her little lungs can muster. He still can’t see much of her from where he sits, not with Tav sagged back against him, finally able to rest. The Midwife says something he doesn’t catch as she gently wipes the babe off. He’s too busy whispering to Tav about how well she did to pay much attention to anything else right at this moment, but Tav isn’t, and she starts to giggle, quietly, just this side of audible. Odd, he thinks, but adrenaline’s a hell of a drug, so he doesn’t think about it too hard. His towel-wrapped (and still a little fluid-covered) daughter is gently placed on Tav’s chest as the Midwife busies herself with cutting the umbilical cord and delivering the afterbirth. The baby calms a bit as Tav gently coos to her and strokes her back, her cries tapering off into soft whimpers.
So of course, barely three days after finally clearing out and donating all of their various and sundry baby stuff, Tav informs him that there's going to be a last-minute addition to the family, very soon (school had just started back again, and the girls had spent the entire summer banding together to hide increasingly-inappropriate new "pets" in their rooms no matter how many times they got caught, so he supposes Tav can be forgiven for having mistaken the symptoms of yet another impending-dhampir as typical parenting exhaustion. He certainly had). It's the middle of the night when she tells him, and he spends at least an hour pacing the floor of their bedroom and summoning every scrap of memory from his law school days to argue that she must be mistaken, because their eldest just started COLLEGE and their youngest is TEN and they've already given away the crib and you can't have a baby if you don't have a crib because where would it even sleep? So obviously they can't be having another baby. Checkmate. He rests his case, Your Honor.
When his arguments to the contrary do not, in fact, render the impending child any less impending, and he’s had another hour to stomp around the backyard lecturing himself (quietly, so as not to wake the girls or the neighbors) that this is what happens when you drink two bottles of wine and an entire cow and can’t keep your stupid hands to yourself and convince Tav to throw caution to the wind because “it’ll be fine just this once, what’s the worst that could happen,” you idiot, he comes around to the idea. Because, sure, maybe they're starting all over with the diapers and the teething and the sleepless nights, but their other children are old enough to mostly mind themselves now, and the youngest had started asking for a baby sister as soon as she was old enough to figure out that her parents were where siblings came from.
Plus, if he's honest with himself, he may have - just a very teeny tiny bit - missed the feeling of holding a tiny infant curled up on his chest, burying his nose into their fluffy newborn hair to inhale the scent of their little scalp, listening to those soft snuffly noises they make as they fall asleep, his finger held in a ridiculously tiny hand only just barely big enough to wrap around it. Not enough to have another one on purpose, obviously, but if she's coming along anyway, then he supposes he might as well enjoy it all the same.
So he starts the same preparations for her that he did with all her sisters, sewing tiny frilly things as Tav knits yet another blanket and they bounce potential names off each other. Of course it's a girl, he says, when questioned on his name suggestions. With how many children they already have, there would have been a boy by now if there was going to be one. He scoffs each time Tav jokes over the next few tendays that this one feels different, and they could have a little combo-breaker on the horizon. No, not possible, he assures her, with an unearned confidence that he nonetheless felt was quite deserved. Their Standard Operation Protocol is that, once a baby is on the way, a little girl is born soon after. No deviations, and no reason to expect any now after all this time. Repeated experiments have produced the same result every time. They'll have another member for their infamous flock of Ancunin Daughters before the month is out.
When Tav tells him one evening just before their soon-to-be-second-youngest's bedtime that the little one's announced her debut via a puddle on the kitchen floor, there is no panic, no rush, no mad dash to ready everything. They've been through this far too many times for that. He takes a moment to be grateful that at least this one had waited until the sun was down to kick things off. Most of her sisters had not been nearly so courteous, choosing instead to have their first act be one of defiance against their poor stressed out father by beginning their journey into life in the middle of the day.
He bundles the girls off to the neighbors' house for the night, leaving them with a quick kiss on the head each and a promise that he'll send a Message as soon as their new sister has arrived, before making his way to fetch the Midwife. He vaguely wonders if she's even necessary, considering they have enough offspring that he's got the whole process all but memorized and is fairly certain he and Tav could deliver the child themselves at this point (and had done, once. Baby number five had been VERY eager to make her way into the world, with such a swift entry that she'd nearly been born on the living room floor. He'd had no time to even grab a towel and was forced to catch her with his bare hands. She'd ruined his shirt, and the rug, and nearly scared the unlife out of him on top of it. He'd been very calm throughout the entire event, though, a paragon of unflappable stability, patiently waiting until the babe was born, cleaned, and moved upstairs to the bedroom where she snuggled peacefully in her sleeping mother's arms, before politely stepping out the bedroom door and proceeding to have the quietest panic of his entire existence).
When he arrives back home with the Midwife, he doesn’t bother to direct her to the bedroom. She knows where it is, this isn’t her first rodeo with an Ancunin birth either. Water is boiled, clean towels are at hand, their nice bedding has been replaced with plain serviceable sheets, a layer of newspaper underneath to protect the mattress, a tiny outfit and knitted blanket sit ready nearby. Check, check, check. He completes each step with pure muscle memory and no prompting, all routine, everything exactly as expected.
The next nine hours are spent keeping Tav as comfortable as possible. Rubbing her back, walking circles around the house, stopping at each contraction to gently sway and do the breathing exercises that they'd learned so long ago the first time they did this. Normally, she'd catch what sleep she could in between contractions in these early stages, but this one is determined to allow her mother no rest. He really hopes that's not an indication of what the little one’s sleep schedule will look like once she's here.
They near the end of this whole ordeal with the first light of morning. He's sat behind Tav, holding her up, as she grits her teeth through near back-to-back contractions and shakes with the effort of bringing this last child into the world. She's exhausted, grumpily hissing between pushes that of course his child would be fucking nocturnal and think the asscrack of dawn was a splendid time to be born. He considers reminding her that most of their children had been born during the day, so he really didn’t think the timing of this one could be blamed on him, but any response he might have had is cut off with the next push, when he feels his knuckle bones grind together as she once again resumes her efforts to reduce them to powder. It's probably for the best that he keep that comment to himself right now, anyway, he thinks.
One more big push to get the head out. It's barely visible from his position, head leaning over Tav's shoulder, but he can see that she definitely has the same full head of hair all her sisters did, and maybe his hair color as well, though it's hard to really tell through the blood and fluids plastering it all to her scalp. Could be red for all he knows. He mutters something about not being able to see her hair through the blood, and Tav gives him a sly sideways glance and starts to crack a joke, something about him not having eaten since yesterday, he thinks, before she’s interrupted by a loud, pained, groan and the need to push again.
A few more hard, steady pushes, guided by the Midwife, for the shoulders this time. This is always the hardest part, he remembers, the final hurdle. He whispers gentle encouragement into Tav's ear as, timed with her pushes, the Midwife carefully guides first one shoulder, then the other, out into the world. Poor Tav is bright red from the exertion, covered in sweat and panting. He places a cool hand on her forehead and she leans into his palm as, with a scream and one last push, the babe is finally brought into the world.
Oh.
Able to get a closer look at her now, he can see this one bears more than just a passing resemblance to her father. Frankly, she looks exactly like him, albeit smaller, wrinklier, and with fewer teeth (for now). Pale, even for a newborn, with tiny, finely-pointed ears, and a head of unruly white curls. When she finally opens her eyes, leveling her parents with an annoyed glare that could have come right off his own face (or so he’s been told), he sees his own gaze reflected back at him in pale green, the color they’d learned with the birth of their second daughter that his eyes used to be. He feels a little bad, honestly. Tav did all the hard work, and yet here their daughter is, their last baby, him in miniature. Not bad enough to keep him from preening a bit when he mentions how beautiful she is, though.
Tav is still giggling. Quietly, but noticeably louder now than before his comment.
He raises an eyebrow at her and asks just what is so funny, and her giggling increases to laughter.
You, she says, in between fits of giggles. She asks if he had been paying attention to anything the Midwife had said, and the confused look on his face only serves to make her laugh harder. He waits while she tries to contain herself, releasing a very put upon sigh when, a few minutes later, she’s still laughing at whatever this joke at his expense is.
Finally, she takes a deep breath, holding in her laughter, eyes still sparkling with mirth, and slowly unwraps their daughter. He is, once again, confused, and the baby’s none too happy either, starting to fuss with the sudden loss of warmth. Before he can say anything, Tav shifts and places the now bared and still slightly-slimy infant in his arms, advising him to get acquainted with their newest little one. He wrinkles his nose at the goo rubbing off onto his sleeves, some sarcastic remark ready on his tongue, reaching out with one hand to take the towel from Tav as he looks down to begin settling his daughter, and-
Well.
That explains why Tav was laughing at him, at least.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thinks that he probably should have caught that a lot sooner. It’s almost embarrassing really, considering his various skillsets, he’s usually pretty good at noticing little details. He doesn’t really have the brainpower to ponder that too long though, because the rest of his mind is still trying to reconcile this shift in information.
The best he’s able to come up with is dazedly asking Tav how that had happened, which just induces her into another fit of tired giggles as she presses a gentle kiss to his lips, and another to the top of their son’s fuzzy head.
He smiles and thinks that the girls will be delighted at this change of protocol.
#astarion x tav#astarion/tav#dadstarion#astarion ancunin#astarion#bg3 astarion#astarion bg3#baldurs gate astarion#baldurs gate 3 astarion#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#One for the Road#This is literally my first time ever posting fic pls be gentle lol#and if you see any mistakes no you didn't#this started out as a reply to a request for dadstarion headcanons and now it's over 2k words help#started out with a kiss how did it end up like this etc#Also considered calling it either Going Out of Business or Fire Sale re: the ''shop's closed'' line#2k+
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Crash Landing
AO3 Link / Masterlist
Astarion has never been a bat before. He's never wanted to be a bat before, but a little sneeze is all it took for him to be stuck as a disgusting rodent.
Wait- He can fly!
But maybe flying isn't all it's cracked up to be...
Main Tags: Batstarion, FLUFF!, Dadstarion, Established Relationship
Waking up next to Astarion is a new experience every time, and this morning is no exception.
The moment she opens her eyes with a yawn, his head looms above hers, ruby eyes boring holes into her face as if she might dissolve into nothing if he looked away for even a moment.
“Any particular reason for being a weirdo this early?” Kalmia asks while placing a hand over his eyes, but he leans forward to nip at her fingers instead and once she pulls away, Astarion bares his teeth. “Ah, so no reason.”
“Do I need a reason when I'm with you, little wyrm?” He holds her wrist and presses a chaste kiss to her lips. “I just want to see every side of you, even when you snore louder than a dragon… Oh, wait…!”
She pinches his nose. “Awe, the vampire has learned comedy this morning. How fun.”
“I'll show you fu-” Astarion rears back, blinking in bewilderment. His nose scrunches up, sniffling before sneezing - violently.
She didn't even know vampires could sneeze.
Gone is the dastardly man with the killer good looks though. Just… gone from her sight. Kalmia sits up swiftly and an alarmed squeak brings her eyes down to the emerald green duvet. A fluffy white bat with overly large ears and a short, pink snout stares up at her with confused red eyes.
Well, isn't this something?
“My, oh my, irthiski, seems I'm not the only shape changer around.” She rubs at his fuzzy head with a finger, and in typical Astarion-fashion, he bares teensy fangs that shimmer like pearls. “What a cutie pie! I could eat you right up!”
That raises another squeak from him, though she can hear the rage burning behind it. How mighty it is, but a dragon does not cower from such things.
“You should be able to speak normally, come on, use your words.” Kalmia nudges him a bit too hard, knocking him over on the sheets. “Oops, sorry!”
There's little grumbling noises that sound suspiciously like speaking, he must be getting a grasp of this new body, it'll take time. Astarion is wobbling around best he can, using his wings as crutches to stand up, the little hook at the end catching on the bedding so he gets stuck, letting out more angry squeaks.
Oh gods, her heart might explode from the cuteness.
“I'm going to pick you up, can't have you tearing all the bedding.” Gingerly, Kalmia wraps her hand around his fuzzy body, picking him up and offering her other hand as support beneath his legs.
The grunting finally becomes audible, “You- What have you…” His lungs aren't at their usual capacity, a full sentence is a struggle. “What have you done, you witch?!”
“Oh, I turn you into a cat once and now it's my fault?”
“What in the…" He gasps, "hells am I?” His small head is angling around to get a look at himself, but she'll do him one better.
The Truesight mirror, its shiny reflection and lacquered wood encasing reveals all.
They stand now in front of it, holding her hands out so Astarion can gaze upon his visage - his favorite activity, but definitely not hers. “You're a bat, irthiski. I've heard vampires can do this sometimes, but maybe you're a late bloomer.”
“Late bloomer-!” He erupts into more enraged squeaks and growls, almost completely falling off her hand before his grabby feet latch onto her finger on instinct, dangling precariously upside down. “A damned bat! I don't want to be this! Where's my beautiful body?!”
Ignoring his dramatics and pressing a smooch to his head, she smiles widely. “I know someone who would be very excited to see this sight.” And they depart from their room, striding into Izmezine's where the girl is just waking up. “Good morning, anon ! Who do you think this is?”
Izzy sits up, blinking her bleary eyes and rubbing them with a big yawn, before scrunching her button nose to inspect the white ball of fluff in Kalmia's hands. Her lips form into a frown, turning her head away in disgust. “It's ugly.”
That was not the reaction I anticipated.
The wail of anguish that leaves his tiny bat body is very impressive, if not over-reactive. Setting Astarion down on the bed, Izzy pulls away slightly, what a terrible start but Kalmia will fix this. “Izmezine, sweetie, please, this is your father. He's turned into a bat by accident. Let's be nice.”
That gets Izzy to take a peek again, and she looks to Kalmia for confirmation. “T-Th-That’s my papa?”
“Yes.”
Poor Astarion is trembling against the bed, the words of his daughter like a stake straight through his heart, but at least he's stopped crying. Izzy reaches forward hesitantly, brushing a finger against his fur and she gasps, “He's s-soft!” She goes back in for a more gentle pet, “W-Why is papa a-a baby?”
Finally finding his words again, Astarion speaks up, “I don't know, I just turned into a bat, but kitten, you think I'm ugly ?” That last word barely makes it out as a squeak. Gods, he's going to be hung up on that for ages.
Izzy scrutinizes him further, golden eyes narrowing and appraising the bat before her. “Uhm, a l-little ugly?” Kids are always so blunt, Astarion should feel lucky that Izzy has enough sense to walk her statement back. The gold eyes turn up to her now, “Kalli, I'm hungry.”
“Me too, let's go have breakfast. What would you like?” Kalmia scoops up the whinging bat and places him on her shoulder, then holds Izzy against her hip.
“Cake!” Is Izzy's first breakfast suggestion.
“Normally I'd agree, but a cake takes a long time to make, how about we make one later and we can have some scones and jam now?”
The dhampir thankfully concedes to that idea and they settle in for an easy breakfast while bat-Astarion clumsily scrabbles along the counter, whining, “I'm hungry too, you know.”
Seems Kalmia isn't the only one that becomes ravenous when changed. “I'll get you food in a bit. Let me take care of my anon first.”
He collapses into a sad pile, crying endlessly, “My daughter thinks I'm ugly, my lizard is starving me. Where is the love?!”
Kalmia slathers some jam onto a scone, ignoring him, “Izzy, what would you like to do today?”
“Can p-papa go in my h-house?” She asks around a mouthful of food.
“Hmm,” Kalmia eyes the worming creature before her, the image of Astarion being stuffed into the doll house is hysterical, but… “I don't think he would like that. Bats are supposed to be able to fly, maybe we can help him learn.”
Both Izzy and Astarion perk up at that, their eyes shining with new possibilities. “You really think I can?” Astarion seems apprehensive at the prospect.
“I don't see why not, irthiski. We can try it out once you get some food.” With breakfast finished, Kalmia takes the bat downstairs, leaving Izzy with the task of gathering pillows and blankets. “What blood do you want?”
“Yours.”
She brings the bat in her hands close to her face, “If you have it now, you can't have it later.”
More grumbling follows, “Fine, get me a glass of the boar.”
Filling a goblet to the top, Kalmia rests them both on their desk. Astarion's little wing hooks grab onto the lip and he shimmies his little body up the length of it, long tongue lapping up the blood. She watches quietly with her head tucked between her hands as a red stain begins to bloom along his snout and neck as he drinks.
“Kalli! The-The blankies and p-pi-pillows are ready!” Izmezine shouts down the stairs.
Astarion pulls away, flopping down to the desk, “I'm full.” The goblet's halfway empty now, she's impressed by his apetite. They return upstairs now after a cleanup, finding the sitting room absolutely covered in blankets and pillows.
Setting her bat on the couch, Kalmia gives Izzy a big kiss on her cheek and squeezes her into a tight hug, “I knew I could count on you to go above and beyond! Wow, look at all this coziness!”
The girl giggles in her arms and Astarion pouts, crossing his wings in a pitiful stance, “What about me? ”
“I didn't forget you, irthiski!” Kalmia showers his tiny head in kisses and Izmezine does the same. He melts at their love. “I don't know how different it is from being a dragon, but my first time flying was… a little wild, you know? I think my mother just threw me off a cliff a few times until I got it. Be thankful for our care, Astarion.”
Izzy nods like she completely understands the lengths they are going to take care of him and he scoffs, “Your mother is a brute.” Kalmia only remembers those days with fondness, he wouldnt understand.
“No! Nafl i-is nice!” Izzy corrects him with a tap to the snout.
“I turn into a rodent and you both gang up against me? Where is the-”
Kalmia interrupts, “Enough. This should come somewhat naturally to you, but we'll start here on the couch and move up in height, ok? Now get to flapping.”
His beady little eyes glare at her and she just smiles sharply back. He's testy, big or small. With a despondent huff, Astarion shuffles along to the edge of the couch, stretching his leathery wings and shaking them out.
The first few attempts end with an immediate face plant to the ground, and while he may not admit it, Astarion is very thankful for the pillows now. The fifth attempt though? His wings find the right rhythm and angle, so he glides down to the end of their makeshift protections. More tries are made, his gliding and flapping now consistent.
Kalmia and Izzy erupt into applause, and she isn't quite sure if she imagines the blush on those little bat cheeks. “Higher now, Astarion?”
“Yes, yes!” He's glowing with pride at his newfound capabilities. Raising him up to the fireplace ledge, he huddles on the ledge peering down to the blanket laden ground. “Alright, I can do this.”
Izzy cheers from the sidelines, “Papa can f-fly!”
With one step, Astarion dives over the edge, flapping vigorously to maintain his height, and it sticks. He's flitting about excitedly, if not a little haphazardly, cackling gleefully. Kalmia, while very happy for Astarion, is concerned he's being too reckless. “ Irthiski, you should slow down and watch where you're going!”
His head whips to her, “Never! Nothing can sto-!” and he smashes head first into a wall, crumbling to a heap of bat limbs on the floor. Izzy shrieks, running over to his still form.
The downside to an undead partner? Can't really tell what kind of damage they've sustained because they don't breath or exhibit any of the normal symptoms.
Astarion is probably fine though.
I hope.
“Don't worry, Izzy, your father will be ok. He'll just need to… sleep that off.” Kalmia strokes the girl's head, whose eyes are welling with large tears. “We should find him somewhere to rest.” She is concerned that he's not changing back… but vampires don't die that easily, no matter how small they are.
Izzy zips downstairs and returns with two doll-sized beds, laying them down by the fireplace with extra bedding so it's very cozy. Kalmia assists in putting his bat-self onto the bed and covering him with blankets. “Kalli, m-ma-make a f-fire! Papa’s c-cold!” Stacking some logs, Kalmia breathes fire onto them, stoking the flames until the room is toasty. With a sniffle, Izzy lays out next to her father and rests her hand on him, “I take c-care of papa.”
“I know you will. You watch over him so I can get lunch started, ok? We can eat here.” Kalmia kisses her forehead before setting off to the kitchen.
It's always an adventure with them.
++++
Over an hour later, Izzy has fallen asleep looking after Astarion's limp body, which hasn't even twitched all this time.
Maybe it's time to take matters into her own hands.
Or fingers.
Pricking the tip of her index finger, Kalmia places it up against Astarion's bat snout, hoping the pooling blood will work like vampire smelling salts.
And of course it does, she should have thought of this earlier.
His snout wiggles side to side, seeking out the delicious scent before him, and begins licking at the drop the moment he makes contact. Red eyes blink open, looking haggard, “What- What happened?”
Kalmia picks up her sad bat, cradling him in her arms, “You crashed into the wall going much too fast. Izmezine took very good care of you, so you should thank her once she's up.”
“How do I change back? If I spend another moment like this, I'm going to become quite cross with-”
“Hush, you're always angry. I normally just think about being me, so maybe try that?”
Astarion goes silent for a while, so he must be trying anything to be himself again. Nothing happens though and he grumbles unhappily, “This is stupid. I don't want to be stuck as a flying rodent for the rest of my life. How will Izmezine be able to introduce me to people? ‘ Oh, come meet my father! The bat? Yes, that's him!’ Kalmia, I can't stay like this!”
“Shall I tickle your nose? A sneeze seemed to set it off the first time.”
His bat face goes through a range of emotions, before settling on sadness, “This is so unbecoming, but fine. Do it.”
Kalmia locates a feather pretty quickly, Gale has quills laying out everywhere, and lightly shuffles the tip across Astarion's nose. His nose wrinkles but nothing happens, and he folds in on himself in defeat.
“I'm sorry, irthiski. We'll figure something out.” She does feel terribly for him, nothing is worse than being stuck in a form at the wrong time. She knows it well.
“Mmm, papa?” Izzy’s sleep laden voice pulls their attention as she starts grabbing at the doll beds, but realizes nothing is there, so she shoots up, alarmed. “Papa?! Wh-Where are y-you?”
“I have him, anon, it's ok.”
Crawling over, Izzy pets her father, also seeming sad that he's still stuck like this. Who's going to read the bedtime story for them?
But if Astarion continues to be a bat, might as well take advantage of this opportunity. “You know, Izzy, I think he's kind of dirty. We should bathe him.”
The girl's eyes light up, “Yes!”
“What?! What do you think-” Astarion begins to shout.
Kalmia presses a finger against his snout. “You've been outvoted. Accept your fate.”
He whines and complains all the way downstairs, and once the bath is filled a few inches deep, she settles the little bat in. Izzy gets to work swiftly, wetting his fur and carefully working in the shampoo. Kalmia assists from the sidelines, but Izzy has it handled.
Astarion's taking this with as much grace as possible, letting Izmezine do as she pleases, because there is never a world in which he would deny her.
But this time must come to an end, it seems.
He makes a strange noise, like a sharp intake of breath, and sneezes, splashing water everywhere when a vampire reappears where a bat once sat.
His resting clothes are soaked and Astarion is absolutely covered in soap, hair flattened against his head as he sneers at the two of them. ‘You two have had a lot of fun today. I think daddy needs some payback.�� Izzy and Kalmia both shriek with laughter as they attempt to run, but Astarion grabs them both, dragging them into the tub, turning the water on. “If I had to suffer, then so should you!”
Once they're all soaking wet and giggling, they climb out of the bathtub, drying off, Kalmia has a new idea. “Ready to make a cake, Izzy?”
The girl jumps up and down in excitement, “I w-want pink frosting!”
“Any requests, irthiski?”
He runs a towel over Izzy's curls, “One of Gale's nice bottles of wine. I'm just… going to lie down, my body hurts.”
Kalmia laughs, “You'll get used to it.”
“Ugh, I sure hope not. If I never turn into a rodent again, it will still be too soon.”
++++
Notes:-anon = flower (draconic)
-nafl (short for nafldask) = grandmother (draconic)
#astarion#bg3#dadstarion#fanfic#ao3 fanfic#astarion fanfic#baldur's gate 3#astarion fic#ao3#astarion ancunin#batstarion
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Family Matters (Prologue)
Rating: Mature
Word count: 1.8k
Pairing: Astarion x Female Tav (named)/OC
Warnings: violence, strong language, innuendo
Summary: After an argument with his eldest daughter leads to summoning a shadow from his past, Astarion must push aside his fears to protect the family he never thought he'd have.
*Link to AO3 Post
A decade ago, the mere notion of Astarion becoming a father would have incited raucous laughter from him. The very idea seemed ludicrous, an absurdity to be dismissed without a second thought. His life, after all, had been defined by shadows and deceit, devoid of any room for such domestic concepts.
However, fate has a way of weaving unexpected threads into the tapestry of one's existence. Astarion found himself thrust into an unlikely role as a parental figure, albeit under circumstances he could scarcely have imagined. The responsibility fell upon him during the year Arabella journeyed alongside them following the tumultuous events surrounding the Netherbrain. Delphie, with her protective instincts and fierce devotion to Arabella, would have surely taken his head had any harm befallen the young tiefling under his watch.
Yet, even as he fulfilled this role, Astarion remained ignorant of his own capacity for fatherhood. Being a spawn, he had assumed himself to be inherently infertile, an assumption born of his undead nature. It was a revelation that blindsided him, hitting with the force of a bolt from the blue, when Delphie unexpectedly found herself carrying their child.
Despite the persistent curse of vampirism lingering within him, Astarion eventually found a semblance of solace in the form of a ring—a small, unassuming trinket that bestowed upon him the remarkable ability to withstand the searing touch of sunlight. While it didn't eradicate his affliction entirely, it offered him a newfound freedom to bask in the daylight without fear of immolation, a luxury he had long believed to be forever beyond his reach. And though the tantalizing prospect of once again traversing running water and crossing thresholds uninvited remained an unattainable dream, he discovered an unexpected contentment in the life he now led.
His union with Delphie blossomed into a marriage not long before they parted ways with Arabella. Their love, tempered by adversity, had only grown stronger, fortified by a bond that transcended the boundaries of mortality and time. Yet, their joy was tinged with trepidation when Delphie discovered she carried their child—a miracle wrought from the interplay of vampiric heritage and a serendipitous twist of fate.
Gale's revelation regarding the transfer of fertility through blood had offered a glimpse into the intricacies of their unconventional family tree, shedding light on the origins of their impending parenthood. Astarion grappled with doubts, plagued by uncertainty over his aptitude for fatherhood, while Delphie harbored fears of reprisal from the countless enemies they had amassed over the years.
So, to ensure the safety of their offspring and as a belated wedding gift, the dragons, Wyll, Gale, and Shadowheart all came together to build a comfortable home inside the secluded Dragon Cove. It would be a safe environment for the children to grow up in. Of course, the children would frequently take the portal with them to go to Baldur's Gate when errands needed to be run, but they would never leave their side. The only exception would be if they were put in the care of Delphie's step-siblings or Shadowheart.
Delphie's determination to find a cure for Astarion's vampirism remained steadfast, an unwavering beacon of hope that burned bright even amidst the joys and responsibilities of parenthood. Though their family had expanded to include two precious daughters, her quest for a remedy persisted, fueled by a love that knew no bounds and a fervent desire to see her husband freed from the shackles of his cursed existence.
Yet, as the demands of parenthood grew, they found themselves facing a dilemma—the dragons were ill-equipped to care for two young elven girls for extended periods of time when they received a new lead for a cure. It was then that Shadowheart emerged as a beacon of support and solace.
Despite her aloof exterior, Shadowheart harbored a hidden reservoir of warmth and affection, particularly when it came to the two young girls who had captured her heart. In them, she saw echoes of innocence and resilience, qualities she had long thought lost amidst the trials and tribulations of her own tumultuous journey. As she watched over them, a fierce sense of protectiveness welled within her, driving her to become not only their guardian but their confidante and mentor as well.
In a gesture of profound significance, Shadowheart assumed the mantle of godmother to their daughters—a role she embraced with unwavering dedication and tenderness. From storytelling beneath starlit skies to imparting lessons of wisdom and courage, she showered the girls with a love that transcended the boundaries of blood and kinship.
They were celebrating their firstborn, Scarlette's ninth birthday at the House of Hope, a midpoint thanks to Hope that allowed Karlach to see her nieces every few months.
Leta, as they affectionately called her, bore a striking resemblance to her mother, a reflection of Delphie's grace and beauty manifested in the form of big, verdant eyes that sparkled with mischief and a delicate button nose that bespoke of innocence and wonder. Yet, amidst the familiar contours of her mother's visage, there lay a subtle reminder of her unique heritage—a line of faint golden scales adorning the curve of each cheek, a legacy of ancient lineage and untold secrets.
From an early age, Leta had displayed an affinity for the arcane arts—a gift inherited from her mother that bloomed with each passing day, unleashing torrents of raw magic whenever her emotions soared to dizzying heights. Though her burgeoning powers often led to chaos and mischief, there was an undeniable beauty in the way she danced amidst the currents of magic, a testament to the untamed potential that lay dormant within her soul.
Yet, despite the undeniable bond forged by blood and love, Astarion couldn't shake the lingering sense of distance that seemed to grow between them with each passing year. Their interactions were marked by heated debates and clashes of will, a testament to their stubborn natures and the tumultuous currents that surged between them. And yet, amidst the tumult, there remained an unbreakable bond—a father's love that transcended the petty squabbles and misunderstandings of mortal existence.
The first time Astarion cradled Leta in his arms, a swell of emotion washed over him—a tidal wave of love and tenderness that threatened to overwhelm his hardened heart. In that fleeting moment, as he gazed into her wide, innocent eyes, he glimpsed the boundless potential of a life yet to unfold—a future brimming with promise and possibility, guided by the unwavering love of a father who would move mountains to see her smile.
As the years swept by, Astarion and Delphie's family expanded once more with the arrival of their second daughter, Lilliana, affectionately known as Lily. Unlike her elder sister, Leta, whose features bore a striking resemblance to their mother, Lily's appearance echoed that of her father in unmistakable ways.
Pale as moonlight, Lily's complexion carried the ethereal pallor of her vampiric heritage. Yet, it was in her eyes that Astarion's legacy shone most brilliantly—crimson orbs that glimmered with an intensity that mirrored the flames of a dying sunset. And then there were the fangs—protruding from her delicate lips with a subtle prominence that set her apart from her sister. While Leta too possessed the telltale signs of vampiric lineage, Lily's were more pronounced.
Yet, despite her father's influence, Lilliana possessed her own unique charm—a mischievous twinkle in her eye and a smile that could light up the darkest of nights. Unlike her sister, who often found solace in the depths of her mother's embrace, Lily gravitated towards Astarion.
In Lily, Astarion saw echoes of his own past—a reminder of the life he had left behind, of the darkness and the shadows that had once consumed him. And yet, in her laughter and her boundless curiosity, he found a glimmer of hope—a beacon of light that illuminated the path towards redemption and forgiveness.
Though he loved both of his daughters with a fierceness that knew no bounds, there was something about Lily—the way she clung to his side, the way her laughter danced upon the air—that tugged at his heartstrings in a way that was uniquely her own. She was his babe, his little vampiric sprite.
Astarion couldn't help but chuckle at Delphie's frantic concern over Lily's penchant for nibbling on anything and everything once she turned four. No matter how many times he reassured her that it was merely a natural phase of their daughter's vampiric development, she couldn't shake the worry that gnawed at her heart.
As the years passed, the bond between Leta and Lily only grew stronger, evolving into a steadfast companionship that transcended the confines of mere siblinghood. They shared everything—from their dreams to their deepest fears and secrets. Together, they laughed and played, their laughter echoing off the walls of the Dragon Cove like a sweet melody.
Even in their moments of disagreement and petty squabbles, there was an undeniable closeness that bound them together. They slept curled up together, their bodies entwined in a tangle of limbs and whispers, finding solace and comfort in the presence of each other's warmth.
Inseparable in every sense of the word, Leta and Lily navigated the twists and turns of life's journey hand in hand, their laughter and tears intertwined like the threads of a tapestry.
As Astarion reclined in the comfort of the regal armchair, his gaze softened with affection as he observed his daughters, Leta and Lily, frolicking together in the foyer of the House of Hope. Their laughter filled the air like the tinkling of bells, a symphony of joy that resonated deep within his soul. Despite the passage of time and the trials they had faced, moments like these served as a poignant reminder of the precious gift of family—a gift he had once believed to be forever beyond his reach.
The warmth of Delphie's hand on his shoulder and the gentle press of her lips against his cheek stirred a surge of gratitude within him—a silent acknowledgment of the love and support that had sustained him through the darkest of days.
And so, as he sat amidst the splendor of the House of Hope, surrounded by the laughter and love of his family, Astarion couldn't help but marvel at the twists and turns of fate that had led him to this moment. So, yes. If someone had dared to suggest to him a decade ago that he would one day be a father, he would have dismissed it as the fanciful ramblings of a madman. And yet, here he was, basking in the warmth of his daughters' smiles and the tender embrace of his beloved wife—a testament to the unpredictable nature of life's journey and the transformative power of love to defy even the most improbable of odds.
#astarion x tav#astarion#astarion and tav#astarion angst#astarion fanfic#astarion ancunin#baldurs gate 3#bg3 astarion#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 tav#astarion x oc#astarion x tav fluff#kid fic#dadstarion#dhampir
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girl!dad Astarion fans don't talk enough about the fact that his daughter would literally just be a lil dhampir Angelica Pickles and I need others to see the vision.
#astarion would spoil her ROTTEN#more fics where astarion's daughter is a little nightmare pls lol#of course astarion is incredibly offended at the mere IDEA his daughter could be spoiled#'oh you mean i'm SPOILING her by providing her basic needs??'#'she NEEDS a new fashion doll every week?'#bg3#astarion#dadstarion#tavstarion#bg3 fluff#astarion fluff
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“Take My Milk for Gall:” an upcoming WIP from PursuitsEternal 🔥 UA Astarion x Fem!OC
UA Spawn Astarion x Delilah | Explicit | TBD
Summary: “I’ve taken a turn as a hero and adventurer” Astarion may not have found the slavers he’s contracted to hunt this time, but he has found one fiercely determined and mysterious female. Her tenacity is only outmatched by her secrets. But she might be just what he needs, for this quest and for more reasons than that alone.
CW: Tired, jaded hero Spawn, no Tav assumed, fem!OC is new mother, stretch marks, blood, and breast milk included, tragic past hopeful future, found family, future adoptive Dadstarion…
Tease below the cut…
Against her obviously better judgment, she tried to strike up a conversation a few times, but a terse response and a glare was enough to quiet her meager attempts. Perhaps it was the reflection of his own past, his own scars and abuse and self-loathing that made him avoid looking at her much. It wasn’t until he could hear actual tears in her voice that he stopped to listen to her pleas.
“I hear water ahead, a river. Once it’s dawn, could we stop please, I need to bathe and rest…” She looked exhausted, tired, and now pathetic.
But it did pique his conscience enough to reply. “We do need to make camp before sunrise, same as our quarry, and I do think we’ve gained on them.” He nodded to an outcrop of rocks in the hills, “I’ll make camp in this cover. Head east. The river isn’t far.” He could almost feel her relief in her bones as he directed her to find the rest she had been whining for.
Decades of repetition, some with companions, some all alone, his body made camp without a single thought about it: fire made, bedroll laid out, weapons cleaned and sharpened, tent pitched in the darkest parts of the rocky crag to keep the sun off his flesh. Supper would be dry fare for her, just some things he had scrounged from the village stores that weren’t tainted with soot. As for him, he sniffed the air looking for something warm and soon-to-be-prey, when another scent caught his nose.
Fresh blood. Female blood. The kind that came monthly, the kind he hadn’t been so exposed to since his days on the road to fight the Absolute. Yet, there was something off. “Delilah?” he called, heading towards the riverbank. He pushed through massive ferns, that scent growing stronger, now edged with something sweeter, something he had never scented before. Hurrying, his arms brushed back the thick leaves, calling her name one more time.
Her body stood in the waters, the tops of her thighs still above the surface. Dark brown and red stains covered the insides of her legs, a sight he knew. Old blood and fresh dripped down. The curves of her hips, the crest of her belly was covered in stretch lines, her skin slightly loose but no less supple. Voluptuous even. Slowly she rounded to face him, her figure in the moonlight bright against the rippling water. Her breasts, two full mounds glistening with droplets of water, achingly full, nipples hard and ripened pink. It made his mouth water against his better judgment. Her hands worked at her breast, and there was that other sweeter, strange scent.
A cup in one fist, thick streams of milk spurted into it. His eyes went wide, the shock of seeing something foreign, intimate, and… confusing. Her dark eyes sparked, almost like two nebulous voids as she locked into his gaze, but even that mysterious darkness couldn’t mask her determination.
It was a clear picture, a young mother, recent from labour and absent a babe. A long inhale is what he took as he drew towards the river’s edge. “Where’s your child?” he asked, bile and gall rising in his throat to think of the possibilities.
“She’s safe with a friend, another whore who got too ripe for business,” came the casual reply, her hand tossed the full cup of milk into the water around her naked body. Then her hands began to work the other breast. The sound of expressing milk rang against the side of the little metal cup. “I know my lass is fed and safe, but little good it does me on the road. Gotta keep myself relieved or I fear I’ll burst,” she smiled, but grin and laugh both rippled with the dark reality of their circumstances.
Astarion turned his back, apologizing. “I’m sorry… I…”
“Well, now, my hero knows why I am so desperate for my brother, and why I despair so at my… misfortune. I was to bring my babe once I had settled a bit with my brother. But with Cainan enslaved, I have no one. I have nothing.” She tossed the cup of milk into the running water again. “I don’t even have a babe to give this milk to feed,” she couldn’t hide the sigh in her throat. “What a waste.”
That tone, that despite and spite… It was too familiar, too haunting. “We won’t let it be a waste. We won’t let those slavers win,” his voice growled, an edge of ice that hadn’t lined it since Cazador’s death by his hand. “You’ll get your freedom for you and your child,” he added. And whether or not he meant it to be a vow, something settled with determination in his heart.
#happy mothers day#postpartum bodies are beautiful#dadstarion#astarion spawn#found family#adoptive Dadstarion#astarion x female oc#astarion fic#post game fic#astarion smut#hero and adventurer astarion#astarion baldurs gate#astarion fanfiction#bg3 astarion fanfic#astarion fanfic#baldurs gate astarion#baldur's gate 3 astarion#baldur’s gate astarion#bg3 astarion#astarion bg3#astarion#astarion ancunin
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I need a BG3 AU where shortly before turning vampire and losing most of his memories, Astarion fathers a child but never finds out (because, yknow, memory loss).
200 odd years later he’s just barely resisted slitting the throat of some poor youth outside a Nautiloid ship crash only to have said youth, upon hearing his name, practically screech:
“Astarion? Wait… Astarion Acunin? …YOU’RE MY DAD?!”
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#astarion#astarion acunin#the dadstarion fic to end all dadstarion fics#dgmw i like romancing astarion but as a completely separate idea this is hilarious#even funnier if the kid holds off on voicing their suspicions immediately#poor Astarion keeps trying to strategically flirt to gaslight gatekeep girlboss his way to safety and Tav is just like 😬😬😬
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Milk.
Back again for the third time today, this time with some porn with a plot.
I'm really on one with the Dadstarion fics. Something has been unleashed inside me, people.
I need to edit all these headers at some point.
Warnings: babies, angst w comfort, smut, nipple play, breast milk, breast milk drinking, breeding kink, daddy kink, teasing, dirty talk, a bit of soft dom Astarion vibes, 18+ only please
A/N: Most of you already know I'm a degenerate.
-----
Astarion had been uncharacteristically melancholy this week.
Sure, it wasn’t unusual to witness him in one of his moods of irritation or frustration, particularly when some business deal or another was not going particularly well, or a contract he’d already drafted more times than he could count came back to him with more rebuttals.
But to witness this cloud of sadness around your husband, especially after Gale’s birth, was odd. He’d been the picture of domestic joy and fatherhood, completely over the moon in his new role. He even wore the sleeplessness better than you in the first few months, happy to assist where he could so that his little love could get more valuable rest.
However, just recently, his mood had become detached and distant. Everything he did and said seemed tinged with worry or sadness. It reminded you of the spawn version of Astarion from several years ago, almost always caught in a poor memory or concerning line of thought. That version of Astarion hadn’t shown up in a while. You couldn’t be sure what triggered it.
“Gale’s getting quite good at holding his head up,” You inform your husband as you crawl into bed with him after just putting the three-month-old down for the evening.
“That’s wonderful news, darling.” Astarion replies, with that same distant, pensive air he’s addressed you with all week as he focuses on the book in his lap.
You sigh, and put your hand over the book, obscuring the pages and forcing the elf to acknowledge you, “What is it, Astarion? You’ve been in this… mood all week and I’m beginning to worry you’re regretting parenthood.”
Your husband’s eyebrows crinkle as he places the book on his nightstand, staring at you with a mixture of shock, hurt and confusion, “Darling, do you truly think that? What have I done besides absolutely dote on Gale? And on you!”
You realize you’ve misspoken. You see the wounds on your husband’s face as he assesses you, and your hands come to his cheeks, searching his eyes, “No, no I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. I know you don’t regret Gale… I just. I’m worried, Astarion. You seem… sad. Lost in thought in a way I haven’t seen in years and… I don’t know why.”
There is a moment of silence as Astarion’s eyes flash through several thoughts, filtering through a week's worth of garbled noise within his mind. And then he sighs, “I…” he pauses and blinks, forcing himself to meet your gaze, “I’m worried that I won’t be the right masculine role model for Gale. That I’m not strong enough to show him… to show him how to be a good man.”
Your mouth falls open in shock. You cannot even think of something to say, because this certainly wasn’t the direction you thought Astarion would take. He was always quite self-assured in his talents and never hesitant to be the true version of himself after the parasite fiasco over a decade ago.
He continues, “I don’t live in the woods, or whatever it is exactly Halsin does. I’m not an especially talented spell caster like Gale. And I’m fair with a blade but it’s been years since I’ve had use for one and I don’t have the level of training nor regular practice like Wyll nowadays, dear. I review contracts and make investments; I run the winery. I embroider. I’m not exactly the picture of masculinity in comparison to… others.”
There is a moment of quiet between the two of you. Concerned tears form in your husband’s eyes, which he quickly blinks away.
“Astarion… you are the strongest man I know.” You murmur, running a finger along the elf’s cheek as he scoffs and shakes his head. His eyes jerk away from your face; clearly, he does not believe you.
You gasp in shock as you cup his face harder, willing the elf to understand how serious you are. You continue, vehemently, “My love. You cannot seriously believe otherwise! You have endured more than any of us could ever imagine. Over 200 years of… horrible atrocities. And then you came out on the other side of that, after having sacrificed so much — and Astarion, do not ever forget how much you willingly sacrificed — to be better. To choose differently. To be so much more.”
You are ripping the blankets away and crawling into your husband’s lap now, wrapping your limbs around his torso. His head comes to the side of your neck as you hold him, hoping to convey the love and respect you have for the elf with the warmth of your arms. Your fingers latch into the curls on the back of his neck as you speak in a reverent whisper, urging him to believe you.
“I watched you endure years without the sun in more stride than I could have possibly thought. And you are perhaps softer than you were when we met, yes. But this version of you gives me and Gale everything we need and more. I cannot imagine someone stronger or more courageous than you, my love. And I think you have forgotten how much strength it took for you to become this soft in the first place. I love this version of you. And Gale has a wonderful, loving, strong father in this version. Please do not ever doubt that.”
A quiet hum of acknowledgement comes from your husband, but no other words escape him as he lifts his head from the crook of your neck and envelopes your lips in a soft kiss. A thank you.
Your heart is pounding from the passion with which you spoke, and when Astarion’s lips press into yours, that passion and love begins to flow throughout your body. Pieces of you start to wake.
It had been a while since you two were intimate. Not since before Gale's birth. Days and nights had recently been filled with parenthood and left little time nor energy for much else. But as Astarion pushes forward, wrapping his arms around your back, you feel the stirrings of desire deep in your core. A soft moan leaves you as a fire begins to grow where mere glowing embers had been left several months ago.
Astarion must be feeling the same pull, because his hand trails from your back and sneaks under your nightdress to brush along your thigh. He slowly traces up the length of your leg to cup your bottom while he deepens the kiss with a soft, breathy moan of his own. He’s flexing his hips up toward you, the growing bulge in his trousers begging for further stimulation. Your lover’s tongue swipes along your lower lip, asking for entry, and your mouth opens to accept the swirling heat of desire from the elf.
He explores your mouth and caresses your bottom for a while, tenderly, slowly, and in no rush to further things along despite the mutual growing desire between your two bodies. It’s you that finally breaks the kiss before ripping your night dress over your head, exposing two heavy, milk-laden breasts in the process. Astarion brings the hand not kneading into your ass to cup your breast before thumbing the pert nipple.
You gasp, and your husband’s brows crinkle for a moment as he pauses his ministrations.
“Too sensitive?” He asks, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your other breast.
“No, keep going,” You urge him, closing your eyes and rolling your hips forward to grind into his groin. He bucks forward to meet you instinctively.
He tentatively thumbs the nipple again and you moan in response. Without thinking much about it, Astarion brings his mouth to the other breast and wraps his lips around the bud before sucking gently. You release an ecstatic keen in response when his teeth graze against the tender flesh. You are continuing to roll your hips into him when he suddenly retracts from your chest with a shocked gasp.
Your eyes snap open, and you catch the final glimpse of your husband wiping breast milk from the side of his mouth as his cheeks and ears slowly turn pink. And then you feel your own embarrassment growing as rosy patches flush across your chest and cheeks. You quickly move to cover your breasts.
“I-I’m sorry,” You whisper, “it slipped my mind. I forgot about the…”
You’re thinking the moment’s ruined, and moving to climb off your husband, but he quietly brings his hand to your waist and stills you. His eyes search yours silently for a moment, and you’re still so consumed by your own embarrassment that all you can do is stare dumbly back at him, eyebrows furrowed.
But then Astarion lifts one of his hands to your own, slowly lowering it from where it had been covering your breast. He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he once again leans forward and wraps his lips around the nipple, sucking gently. Warm milk flows into his mouth and you inhale sharply, unable to look away as your husband removes his lips from your breast, opens his mouth to show you the white liquid, and then closes his mouth and swallows.
He swallows.
And then he smirks up at you with a self-satisfied, mischievous glint in his eyes that causes the slickness between your legs to instantly double.
Gods, this man.
You are convinced your entire body is flushing red at this point as Astarion slowly brings his other hand up to palm the flesh of your breast.
“Would you like daddy to do it again?” He purrs before his tongue laps circles around the side of your heavy tit.
“I— gods, yes.” You respond, blinking down at the elf.
“Okay. But you have to ask me very, very nicely, little love.” He responds teasingly as he trails kisses to your other breast, waiting for you to say something.
“Please suck my nipple,” You whisper, eagerly rolling your groin into your husband's raging erection.
But Astarion doesn’t do what he’s asked. Instead, he’s teasing the bud with the flat of his tongue and humming contentedly, waiting for something from you.
“Please suck my nipple, daddy.” You amend, and the elf instantly engages his lips around your other breast with a soft groan. He’s drinking with vigor as your hands find the curls at the nape of his neck and take hold. Before long he’s retracting again, his mouth full of liquid gold.
And he pulls the same maneuver. Mouth open, flashing the white liquid as he looks directly into your eyes. Mouth closed. Swallow. Devious smile.
“It’s delicious, you know.” He murmurs as you stare at him, still in shock and still somewhat embarrassed by the fact that you are actually enjoying this. His hands come to either breast, both now significantly lighter, and he fondles the soft tissue.
“You shouldn’t be so surprised that you like this darling, I distinctly remember a time when I made you orgasm by mere nipple play alone.” He whispers, a glint of that cocky rogue playing across his face before he trails kisses up your chest and along your neck.
“Gods, Astarion,” You respond, “I need you inside me, now.”
You’re done with the foreplay. Your husband has you ridiculously hot and bothered, and it’s been far, far too long. You're on your knees, which are straddled on either side of his hips as you urgently tug at the waistband of his trousers, trying to work his pants and underclothes off in one motion. But your husband is purposely resisting and refusing to lift his hips, watching you with that same arrogant smile.
Oh, he's toying with you.
“Darling, why am I always the one dirty talking you?” He asks, pulling back from your neck and cocking his head just slightly as he studies your face.
“I— what?” You ask, still pulling insistently at his waistband.
“I’m always the one charming the pants off of you, dear. In over ten years, it’s never really been the other way around. But you know that I love to hear your beautiful words.” He continues, moving one of his hands to stroke between your still-clothed folds.
“Astarion, please fuck me.” You try as you struggle to keep your composure. The slickness of your cunt is making obscene noises as he expertly maneuvers between your slit, watching your expression attentively as you come undone.
He chuckles darkly as he brings his lips to your breast once again, trailing kisses along the side of the flesh, “I think you can do better than that, my love.”
You groan in dismay as the bastard continues to tease you. Several months without sex and somehow you’re still the desperate one while he’s effortlessly maintaining his cool.
“What do you want daddy to do to you, darling?” He purrs, teasingly, as his other hand that isn’t stroking between your legs trails across your skin to fondle your ass once again.
“I want you to fuck me and fill me with your seed.” You whine as his ministrations on your clit become more insistent. You’re trying to play into his desires, to convince him to stretch you open with his thick cock.
Your legs are trembling now. He’s going to make you come embarrassingly fast. You know it. He knows it.
“Won’t you beg me, my love?” He murmurs as his eyes trail across your chest, admiring your larger-than-usual breasts before his gaze locks back onto yours, fingers still strumming your clit, now adding more pressure, “You know I love to hear your sweet little pleas.”
“Please— Astarion. Please, daddy. Please fuck me. Breed me like your good little wife and fill me with—“
You gasp and then moan as your orgasm rips through you with little warning, drenching your husband’s hand in your arousal. The release causes your legs to turn into jelly, and Astarion uses the opportunity to quickly maneuver you into a new position. You are sitting on the side of the bed, and he is now standing, quickly lowering his trousers.
His cock springs free, and the sight causes your eyes to widen in shock. It’s so engorged that the head is slowly turning from that gorgeous pink to a deep purple, begging for release. Thin rivulets of pre-cum are falling in strings from the tip; much of his shaft is glistening from the same evidence of his arousal.
Astarion glances down at his own erection and then warns, “It’s been a while darling, not quite certain how long I will last.”
“Just get inside me already, daddy.” You plead and that’s enough to make your husband growl as he strokes his own member once, twice, prepping himself. He peels your drenched undergarments down your legs and tosses them aside.
As Astarion’s cock slides between your folds you gasp. Gods, it really has been too long. And then he’s pressing into you slowly, groaning deeply with the amount of effort it’s taking him to not release his spend right upon entry into your tight cunt. When he reaches the hilt, the elf stills for a moment and lowers himself down to kiss your lips before pressing his forehead against yours. And then Astarion is slowly rolling his hips, his mouth hanging open in a gasp at the delicious sensation of your walls clenching around him before he closes his eyes to focus.
It isn’t long before he's losing control. Your husband normally prides himself on being a consummate lover; it’s quite typical that he brings you to orgasm twice before finding his own release. But it has been quite some time and perhaps holding off in an attempt to hear your pleas wasn’t as easy for him as it appeared on the outside.
“Gods, darling. You feel so perfect.” The elf pants, almost breathless, his hips stuttering as he jerkily thrusts into you, trying and failing to maintain some rhythm as the pleasure overwhelms him, “So perfectly wet and tight.”
“Come inside me, daddy.” You whisper as you bring your hand to the side of Astarion’s face.
The command shocks him. Like you, he’s suddenly coming with very little warning. His eyes rip open as he’s spilling into you with a loud groan, his cock jerking inside your walls where he’s instinctively buried himself to the hilt.
“Fuck-- gods, Tav--" He hisses through the waves of pleasure racking his body as his eyes roll back. His thighs are trembling as his member continues to throb, spilling several streams of hot, thick seed into you as you watch his face in awe. Mouth agape, cheeks flushed. You love the way he looks when he loses control.
You smile and kiss your husband gently as he comes down from his high, your hand stroking his cheek. And then he’s laughing and pressing his forehead back against yours. A few of his curls fall haphazardly and you reach up to lovingly comb them back into place.
“You are… still full of surprises, aren’t you?” Astarion asks as he slowly withdraws from you, causing the slickness from your lovemaking to run down your thighs and into the sheets.
“I thought you would like it,” You offer shyly, now somewhat embarrassed at your own crassness as the tides of passion recede.
“Oh, I certainly did, darling.” Your lover reassures you as he bends down to retrieve his trousers from the floor, "You cheeky little degenerate."
Just then, Gale lets out a sharp cry from the nursery. You move to stand up, but your husband stops you with a gentle hand and a soft, adoring smile.
“I’ll go and get him. Don’t waste the seed still inside you, dear. Give it a few more precious moments to try and do its thing, hm?” Astarion says, partly teasing and partly serious as he shoots you a wink before heading out the bedroom door to retrieve the infant.
This one won’t take, you know as much. You aren’t ovulating. But as you watch the love of your life exit the room on his way to retrieve the other love of your life, you think you may actually be ready to start trying for another one sometime soon. You know Astarion is simply waiting for your cue.
Anything for daddy.
#astarion fanfic#baulders gate astarion#astarion fic#baulders gate 3#astarion x reader#baulders gate tav#astarion x tav#astarion x you#astarion reader insert#dadstarion fic#dadstarion#soft dom astarion#astarion fluff#astarion x f!reader#astarion x female reader#astarion smut#smut
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Little Bundle of Darkness
Synopsis: Astarion becomes a father.
Tags: fluff, comfort, dadstarion, dhampirs, pregnancy
Alethaine's age: newborn
Read on AO3
Masterlist
Headcanons
Thanks @lobster-risotto for beta-reading!
Astarion wants to leave the house, just to distract himself a bit. Just to take a break.
A cry of pain pierces the air.
The vampire starts moving objects in the room mindlessly. He hates dissociating but at this moment he misses this feeling of not being present in the moment.
It's been years since he felt so useless, so doomed. And so scared.
Another cry, louder than the previous one, and Astarion clenches his fists as if being ready to attack an invisible enemy.
He and Tiriel have been through a lot. He has seen her in blood and pain many times - his fierce warrior-wife who wields a two-handed axe with the same elegance he uses daggers is unstoppable and unbreakable.
But this… this is different.
"I - I can't!", he hears Tiriel. "It hurts!"
Whatever she wants to say next, drowns in yet another cry.
Astarion casts a glance outside. The sun is still shining so he is locked inside the house. Helpless and useless while Tiriel is suffering in agonizing pain only with a midwife to be by her side.
...He had no idea it was possible. He is an undead. Undead men don't impregnate mortal women. Besides, it had been twenty years since they met. If it had been possible to conceive a child, it would have happened a long time ago.
But –
One day her blood just tasted different. And Tiriel was so tired she couldn’t lift her weapon on their back home from the wilderness. She was claiming everything was all right and he had to drag her to the town’s healer.
She came back much sooner than he expected, and he immediately sensed something was utterly wrong. Tiriel sat in front of him in the chair, eyes firmly fixed on her hands.
"My sweet, what did he say?" Astarion asked. By this moment he started feeling a wave of his own panic. Tiriel is mortal. She is a warrior, yes, but she isn’t immune to curses and, after all, death. And besides he had never seen her like that.
"Astarion, tell me one thing. Have you heard about children born from vampires?"
"Yes, I have. Dhampirs. It’s like being a vampire without downsides,"he got so carried away that he basically gave a lecture to Tiriel, and then stumbled. "Why do you ask?"
And then she put her hand on her belly.
“He told me I am pregnant.”
… The next months were intense. Sometimes everything was good. They could even sit and talk about the future – sure, the child was going to be an elf with just a bit of human ancestry on Tiriel’s side.
But more often than that they both were scared. Tiriel had insane mood swings and she would burst into tears after some innocent mockery from him. He had nightmares and panic attacks. Everything he thought had gone for good returned the instant he’d learned about pregnancy.
And Tiriel… Well, the thing is women die at childbirth even if the child is mortal. Even if before the woman has challenged the gods.
Cries from upstairs are unbearable to hear. Astarion wants to be there with Tiriel and, at the same time, he wants to be miles away. And it’s all his fault.
If she dies, it will be his fault.
Fuck it.
Astarion goes up and with a bit of hesitation pushes the door. The smell of familiar blood makes his head spin.
“Go away, idiot! I told you not to come here!” the midwife curses. “There is too much blood!”
“No, please!” Tiriel begs, reaching out for him, “Don’t go!”
Astarion kneels beside her and squeezes her hand. “I am not going anywhere, my sweet.”
What if something is wrong? What if the child is some monster, not even resembling a sentient being? What if…
And suddenly Tiriel goes silent.
A squeal, full of fury and distress, pierces the room.
“Well, this one looks like a healthy girl”, the midwife places the baby in Tiriel's arms.
The tiny Elven baby with long pointy ears stops crying, feeling her mother’s skin against hers.
Astarion stares at the child in shock.
“Didn’t really take after me, did you?” Tiriel adjusts herself a bit in the bed. “My lovely beautiful girl”, she presses a kiss against the baby’s forehead, “Look at her ears, they are like yours!”
Astarion can’t take his eye off them. His child. His and Tiriel’s. His daughter. Not a monster – just a baby.
The long pointy ears twitch, and Tiriel starts caressing them.
“Tiriel… My love…”, he finally manages to speak again, “Her ears are very sensitive, don’t touch them too much”.
“Oh, I am sorry”, Tiriel stops. “But they are so cute!”
“They are.”
Astarion can’t decipher what exactly he feels. All these months the child was just an idea, something he couldn’t feel attachment to. But now that the baby is born, the realization that nothing will be the same hits him. That his life has just changed forever.
And this is good. The worst thing that was happening to him all the centuries of enslavement was the understanding that nothing would ever change. Nothing would get better or worse because everything would stay the same. And now, it’s something new. Something natural. Something he thought was available only for normal people, not someone so twisted and ruined like him.
Tiriel touches his arm softly.
“Hold her.”
“What?! No! I am not…”
“It’s your child, Astarion”
Astarion stands up and recoils. “Tiriel, I will hurt her! Look at her, she is small! I will… I will do something to her!”
It seems like his voice scares the newborn and she starts crying again.
“Sit with me”, Tiriel asks. “Please”
Astarion hesitates but obliges. Before he says anything, the little bundle is already placed in his pale arms.
He freezes. The girl cries even louder demanding to be returned to her mother. Astarion touches her forehead with his fingers – the skin feels delicate like silk”
“Ai armiel telere maenen hir, salen damia”, he whispers in Elven.
And the girl stops crying. She looks at him with her dark eyes and suddenly smiles. The newborn stretches her tiny arms as if trying to reach out for his face.
And Astarion bursts into tears. Sobbing, he cradles the baby in his arms, hearing the fast heartbeat within her delicate rib cage.
It’s his daughter. His treasure. The reward for everything he’s been through. The sign that he has been doing the right things all these years.
Tiriel puts her chin on his shoulder and wraps her hands around his waist.
“Thank you, my love”, Astarion says to her. “This is a gift.”
They sit like that for what feels like an eternity. Finally, Tiriel breaks the silence.
“She needs a name.”
Astarion studies the girl’s face as if looking for a hint. Then, the name comes to his mind, though he doesn't know where he could have heard it.
“Alethaine. My love, can we call her Alethaine?”
Tiriel nods. “It’s not like I have any other suggestions. I was scared to death the whole time. It’s beautiful. Let’s call her that”.
It’s already night when the midwife leaves the house. Astarion helps Tiriel to get to the bed with clean sheets and then brings her sleeping Alethaine.
Astarion watches how Tiriel pulls the collar of her shirt freeing swollen breasts and then places the girl that way so her mouth in front of the nipple. The girl makes sucking movements and her ears twitch simultaneously.
Tiriel starts humming – and Astarion recognizes a human lullaby he’s heard from Tiriel maybe only once or twice.
He carefully puts his head on Tiriel’s lap so he can see both his wife and daughter.
“How are you feeling?” he finally asks.
“Tired. Happy. And you?”
Astarion chuckles. “You pushed a whole Elven baby out of your body and wonder how I am feeling?”
“Actually, yes”
“I feel … alive.”
Tiriel reaches to his silver curls and strokes the hair with her free hand.
“Thank you for giving her to me”, she whispers.
Ai armiel telere maenen hir, salen damia (Elven) - you hold my heart forever, my child
@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati
#astarion#baldur's gate 3#bg3 astarion#bg3#astarion romance#astarion bg3#baldurs gate 3#astarion x tav#alethaine ancunin#astarion being a dad#dadstarion#astarion fluff#astarion x you#spacebarbarian fics#astarion ancunin#astarion baldurs gate#astarion brainrot#astarion fanfic#pregnancy#giving birth#tiriel of the sunset mountains#tiriel the barbarian#astarion x tiriel#oc tav: tiriel
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WIP xDay
SO. @larvasmoon tagged me for WIP Wednesday but I lost track of the days - I'm so sorry!
Anyway, the last WIP I dug up for this turned into a full fic, so I had to find something else to post (we love suffering from success) - please enjoy this excerpt from the Dadstarion fic I'm working on in between other things ❤
Remember That I Love You
His daughter stood on a step stool in front of their mirror, making faces at her own reflection. Astarion, crouched low and armed with sewing pins, looked up to find her scrunching her nose while trying to lift her eyebrows. He clucked his tongue and shook his head. “Darling, do be careful or your face will get stuck like that.”
“Would you still love me, Papa?” she asked, and her face broke into a toothy grin as she turned to face him. Gods – with a smile that wide (missing front tooth and all) she looked very much like her mother, who was elsewhere pottering in the house.
The sudden movement made the cloth slip past his fingers. He tutted gently and without any malice, making a note to himself that, all things considered, she’d been unusually patient and still for this alteration session. She apologised, the words coming out almost as a reflex instead of a genuine apology before he turned her towards the mirror once more to continue rolling and pinning a new hem to her new skirt.
“Well?” she prodded again, careful to only turn her head towards him this time.
“My love, there is nothing you can do that will make Papa love you less,” he answered, truthfully and honestly. He loved his daughter unconditionally, and he did not think it initially possible until he had held her in his arms for the first time. “You know, you looked like a prune when you were born but I still loved you then,” he grinned at her, recalling the memory of her birth like it was only yesterday. Every detail came to mind with ease, her arrival to the world a bright flash of light in the timeline of his life. For someone who had been beaten into believing that you would only be valued for what you could give, Astarion found that he loved his wrinkly little child before she could offer him anything at all. “Mama and Papa will always love you.”
She hummed, and it was obvious the seriousness of his declaration went unnoticed. “Even if my face got stuck like… this?” She made another comical face, crossing her eyes and pouting. She looked nothing short of adorable. How could he, with all his sins, have made something so pure? He gave her nose a light tap, amused as her eyes followed the tip of his finger. The action made her break into giggles, which was a sound he wished he could bottle and hold to his heart forever.
“I suppose even then,” he sighed theatrically.
She began swaying side to side, as she put her hands out for him to hold. She was an affectionate child, and he’d found his personal bubble had grown and accounted for the shape of his daughter in it. The alterations were momentarily forgotten, as her skirt swayed side to side, half too long and half just right. “Even if… I don’t eat my vegetables?”
Cheeky thing. “Sure – but we would still give you a talking to, I think.”
“What?” she asked, and she nearly tipped herself off the step stool if not for his hands holding hers. “Papa, if you loved me you wouldn’t give me a talking to.”
Ah, yes – this deviousness could only have been his contribution to the development of their only child. “My sunshine, that’s not how it works,” he replies, “Nice try.”
The prompt came from Cinnamontails's discord (the prompt was provided by myself, and then taken by myself, like a greedy gremlin). As usual, I'm here to promote our little community - please come and join us!
I'm tagging @larvasmoon back, like a cheeky chook. I'd also like to tag @riskpig and @vyjuarts. And also, @bludazey (my love, because I have missed you), and @cinnamontails-ff (because I'm trying to coax more of that Rolan fic out of you, if it wasn't already obvious).
Fingers crossed I'll have something new soon (wink).
#purdle-writes#astarion#baldur's gate 3 fanfic#dadstarion#fic WIP#I'm a sucker for dadstarion truly#astarion fanfic#dadstarion fanfic#soft astarion
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My Little Spawn Pt.3 (Dadstarion X Child!Reader)
Summary: Astarion was finally free from Cazador after being kidnapped by a mindflayer but he was stuck with one annoying task, you.
Disclaimer: I do not own Baldur's Gate 3 or any of its characters.
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: Use of (Y/N), Cazador, language, violence, spoilers for those who haven't gone far in the game, mentions of blood, animal death...Uhhh...I think that is all.
Authors Note: Thank you all so much for the support! I am so glad you are all loving this series so far! As always please, like, reblog and comment if you are loving this series and hopefully others would like it as well. Also...THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 500 FOLLOWERS. YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST. Since we reached this number, I would do another father figure series because I feel I'm much better at that than a romance x reader version. Who should it be? Gale? Wyll? Rolan? Gortash? So many choices!
Astarion leans against the rocky wall watching you get swarm by the female druids and Tieflings coddling you from how adorable you are. He lets out a small smile seeing you pout as the ladies coo at you. He thinks back to the discovery he found out 2 nights ago. Dhampir, when has Cazador ever been involved with a human. More importantly which dumb female wants to be in a relationship with Cazador. He looks at you seeing you trying to squirm away from the ladies. He sudden thinks back how protective Cazador was with you. Never letting you step out of the palace even at night….no…he wasn’t protecting you but rather himself. He’s raising you as a spawn to conceal the reality of your powers. What a bastard but then again Astarion is not surprised, it’s Cazador after all.
You finally had enough of this ladies and burst out crying “Astarion!” You wail feeling overwhelmed. He sighs and walks over “Excuse me Ladies, I think the little one has enough and I hate for them to get cranky.” He picks you up walking away from the pouting ladies. “Now, now, there is no need to cry” He sighs and rubs your back as you whimper clinging on to his armor. “Don’t like the attention or what?” He asked as you only kept quiet whimpering a couple times laying your head on his shoulder trying to relax. He leans his head back trying to look at you, “Are…you okay, so odd of you to be quiet.” He mutters trying to find the group in the grove. “I just miss home…I miss papa…and everyone else…” You mutter. He sighs “there, there but you have me no?” He hums walking through the grove enjoying this simple conversation with you. “I want to go home…my clothes don’t fit much…it hurts me and I miss my toys!” You whine. Astarion lets out a chuckle “Oh what a spoiled little spawn…well creature…eh, you’ll always be a little spawn to me.” He puts you down looking at you, it was true, he did notice you were an inch taller than yesterday and your clothes did look a bit tight. “Oh you weren’t kidding…” He thinks looking around “Dhampir do grow faster and mature faster….” He mutters to himself before going to a trader seeing if they have anything in stock, fabric even.
As he was busy, you stray from him as you spotted a few tiefling children playing. You ran over smiling “Can I play!” You stood in front of them. “Sure! You’re from Baldur’s gate aren’t you by the way you talk and dress?” One of them smiles, “What games do you play at home?” One asked. You think carefully. Games, well you play ball by yourself, Cazador has you learn reading and writing. “I…um…I don’t know…usually papa has me studying and sends his people to play with me.” You held your hands behind your back and kick your feet in a shy manner. “Oh…you’re those kinds…Um….I think I heard my mom calling” They quickly left as the others give other excuses and leave you alone. You only look down and grab the ball they dropped bouncing it on your own. “What’s the matter?” Gale walks over seeing the scene. You look up, eye glossy trying not to let tears fall down. “Making friends is hard…” You whisper “Back home there is no other children playing with me…” Gale looks at you thinking back to himself as a young child. “It is isn’t it?” He smiles gently grabbing the ball from you and tossing it to you playing. You smile giggling and toss it back to him. “I don’t have any friends at home to play with, papa never lets me leave the big castle…” You catch the ball as it was tossed back. “Is that so? I know how it feels to be lonely…how about this.” He catches the ball and placed it down as he squats to your height. “(Y/N) would you like to be my friend?” He smiles as your eyes widen gasping. “You mean it!” Your little body bouncing with excitement. Gale nods waiting for your response. “Yes!” You bounce happily “ I have to tell Astarion!” You ran off to find the pale elf. Gale chuckles watching run off to bother Astarion with a big smile on your face.
The next day You were told to stay in the grove. Shadowheart chuckles watching you pouting away eating whatever was given to you. “I want to go out too!” You look up at her. She only sighs “How do I deal with children…you want to go out you say? I guess we can outside the gates and collect some herbs. I know everyone is going to need healing after this battle.” Getting up, she held your hand and walked outside of the grove. You ran around happily collecting flowers for everyone. “What am I supposed to collect?” You asked her. She smiles fixing your hair “See this herb right there, that’s what we need.” She points as your eyes follow the direction she was pointing at. You ran over picking it up smiling and collected more. She only sits by the rock watching you over as you collected whatever caught your little eye. You hum the same tune Cazador would hum to you. Collecting flowers you stopped seeing a bunny hop around in the distance. Shadowheart was busy playing with the artifact like a rubik's cube only to look up hearing the poor bunny squeal in the distance. She panics not seeing you and gets up putting the artifact away. “(Y/N)!?” She follows the sound before going down a small path behind a rock wall seeing you drain the blood of the poor bunny. You look up at her blood soaking your shirt and your lips stained. “What…are you doing?” She slowly walks over to you and kneels by you. You look at him “I…I didn’t mean to…I wanted to play with the bunny but…” You began to wail feeling overwhelmed by these urges. “Oh please don’t cry.” Shadowheart panics looking around, not knowing what to do in this scenario. “Where is the Spawn when you need him…okay. Let’s clean you up and a nap will help” She holds your hand ignoring the blood and toss the rabbit on the side into a bush for a wolf or other animal to chow on. She walks to the river and makes you wash your hands. “Relax, everything is going to be okay.” She whispers as you whimper. She collects water into her palm and rubs off the blood from your shirt the best of her ability. She sighs seeing the shirt to be now discolored into the blood stain. “Your bag is in the grove….we can’t let them see you like this.” She wipes your cheeks clean as well. You look over hearing the bush rustle behind her. Shadowheart quickly picked you up and took out her mace. “Who goes there!” She glares. You cling to her only to tear up seeing Astarion walk out of the bush.
“There you are, I thought I smelled blood near the gate.” He was out of breath and bruised from the battle they came back. His hair was all over the place and had a panicked look on his face. Shadowheart puts her mace away “Don’t scare me like that! I could’ve swing!” She scolds at him. He paid no attention to her as he walks over seeing your face stained in tears and a scared look. He noticed your clothes stained in blood. He took you from her arms and held you close, his hand on the back of your head. “What in the hells were you thinking?! I thought it was your blood I smelled all the way from the gates! I thought you got hurt!” He yells but not loudly knowing how much you hate it. You only laid your little head on his shoulder crying into his shoulder, your fist clinging on to him. He softens a bit feeling your little shoulders shake, you were scared. “What happened?” He looks at Shadowheart ready to pin this on her. “What did you do to them!” He glares at her. Hearing the commotion, Tav found them along with the others following. “What’s going on? Why is (Y/N) crying?” Tav walks over ready to stop Astarion seeing the murderous glare at the young woman. “What did you do!” He repeats to her, holding you close. “Their Dhampir side came out…” Shadowheart looks at him, feeling a bit speechless seeing him get this overprotective. She snaps out of it and points to the bunny in the bush. Gale walks over but turns around quickly “If you have a weak stomach…I suggest not looking” He covers his mouth. Tav walks over and looks at the bunny. “Gods…its in pieces….” They whisper. Hearing their comments made you tear up. They think your a monster, they won’t be your friends anymore…they won’t take you to see your home and papa anymore. You only hide your face more, letting out choked sobs. “Enough! Think before you speak.” Astarion held you close “We just hide the damn bunny and do our best to cheer them up…they are feeling overwhelmed and not themselves…gods do you people ever use your brain?” He walks off holding you close.
Night fell, you were in Astarion tent, in the corner. The pale elf walks in holding food, “Your still human…you need to eat this….we can start implementing human foods more than blood to control that urge.” He sits by you. You only look at the plate, hugging your knees and shake your head no. “(Y/N)...it was okay what you did…it’s in your nature…and I know your scared…I was too…when I first became a spawn….” He whispers softly and scoots closer only for you to scoot away. “ No…I don’t want to you…or anyone…like I did to Mr.Bunny..” You tear up. “Is that why mommy didn’t want me…am I a monster…they…probably won’t be my friends anymore” You whispers thinking back their reaction to the bunny. Astarion looks at you before grabbing your arm, you gasp and try to wiggle away, scared to hurt him only to feel a warm embrace. Astarion held you close, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “By hells, you are speaking nonsense little spawn.” He rubbed your back. “If they thought of us as monster, we wouldn’t be here now…they…are odd in their own ways you know so no one is perfect.” He grabbed the plate “Now eat up” He feed you a piece of fish and sat you on his lap, making sure you ate. You happily munched feeling slightly better.
After finishing your food, you laid your little head on Astarions chest as he held you close in one arm while the other was busy reading a book about Dhampir’s he found in a box. Your little doe eyes look up seeing everyone walk to Astarion’s tent. You cling to him feeling anxious only to calm down as Astarion rubs your little arm, “Relax, they come bearing gifts” He hums. Gale was the first one to talk “(Y/N), it was rude of me to…you know…having a weak stomach but you have nothing to worry about, I will always be your friend.” He smiles and leans down leaving down a purple wrapped gift on the ground for you smiling. He rubs your head “Sleep well” He whispers before being pushed back by Karlach, “Hey little soldier! Look what I got you” She smiles placing the small stuff bear in your arms which you happily accepted. “Thank you” You whisper shyly hugging the bear. Shadowheart smiles as it was her turn. “I got you some pretty flowers and made a couple of bracelets, we both have one. “ She shows off hers and place the other next to Gale’s gift. Tav walks over smiling and crouched next to you and Astarion. “Mine…you’ll have to wait because I promise…I will take you back home” They pat your head. Upon hearing this, you gasp. “You mean it! I get to see my papa soon!” You sat up.
Astarion leans back watching you interact happily with everyone, that fear gone. He chuckles seeing you yawn and rub your eyes. “Alright little spawn time for sleep.” He looks at the others shooing them away from his tent and picks you up, fixing the bedroll and lays down, holding you close. He wasn’t going to let you go through this alone, not on his watch. You’re his little spawn after all.
#dadstarion#dadstarion x child reader#dad astarion#bg3 x reader#bg3 astarion#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 fic#bg3#baldurs gate astarion#baldurs gate fic#baldurs gate 3#gale dekarios#karlach#shadowheart#fatherfigure#astarion#MyLittleSpawn
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How In the Hells?
Astarion x gender-neutral Generi-Tav (I don't make good Tavs T_T)
Words: 1k-1.5k
Tw: pregnancy, mentions of abortion
"What?" The question left Astarion’s lips before he could even attempt to stop himself. Confusion and disbelief were transparent in his expression. Voice soft and questioning. Not the reaction anyone would have anticipated from someone who had just been told he was about to become a father. The doctor even seemed a bit surprised. Reactions to this particular revelation varied wildly, but they usually leaned more towards happiness or unhappiness, not disbelief.
"You're sure?" Tav questioned, seeming equally doubtful.
"Yes, the tests were all positive. You’re pregnant." The doctor confirmed, growing a bit weary. Why was a couple with this configuration confused that pregnancy had occurred? Of course, said couple hadn’t been…entirely truthful. As they couldn’t know everyone’s general opinion on vampires it had been in their best interest to conceal that little detail. Mostly just covering the neck holes. Hoping the red eyes and paleness could be explained away.
"Yay, darling, we're so excited, aren't we?" Astarion said with feigned excitement, an attempt to gloss over his first reaction. A smile painted on as he took Tav's hand. Yet, both looked into each other's eyes bewildered.
This wasn't a possibility they had ever considered and therefore taken no steps to prevent...obviously. They had assumed one partner being undead had removed that potential. Naturally throwing caution to the wind during what most would have considered their honeymoon.
What a honeymoon it had been too. Traveling the coast, hunting monsters, resting in each other's arms every night. Just the two of them. Truly everything the couple could have hoped for and then some. It had only been cut short by Tav's sudden fatigue and consistent nausea. Quickly pivoting to getting to the closest settlement and seeking out whatever healer they had available. Fortunately, the first village they found had a doctor.
The pair listened to the doctor inform them of what to expect, what steps to take, and when they should come back for checkups. Yet, the words weren't quite sticking. How could they when the doctor was speaking on a normal pregnancy and nothing about this was normal. They didn’t dare to bring this up to the doctor either, doubting that he would have any experience on this topic.
When the two were finally alone again, the act dropped. Able to fully expose their confusion and panic.
The two lines were spoken simultaneously.
"How in the hells am I pregnant?!"
"How in the hells are you pregnant?!"
It was almost a relief for the two to share the sentiment. Able to trust each other enough not to minimize their reactions. However, their opinions on the matter couldn’t be any more different. One was filled with a sense of hope and joy and the other could only feel dread.
“This is…this is…wow. Unexpected definitely. Gods, what are we going to do?” Tav asked.
"Well, obviously, we need to get rid of it. The sooner, the better." Astarion stated. Firmly believing that nothing good could come of this. That this had to be some sort of fluke or worse some sort of curse. What would cause him to think any other way?
So many questions filled his mind. Who did one even call for that? How did that procedure even work in this scenario? Could it? Where would they have to go? If anyone knew this information it certainly couldn't be common. Hells Astarion didn’t even know a word for this whatever this thing inside of Tav was. Could it even be called a baby?
"What?" Tav asked as if the wind had been knocked out of them. This miraculous gift had been given to them, and he didn't want it? Shouldn't he be overjoyed? An opportunity to have a family together. Something they had thought they had to abandon. Yet here it was.
"You've already had one parasite inside you, you want another?"
"A parasite?! It's a child! Our child!" Tav shouted. Clearly pissed at the comparison. A baby wasn’t a mind-flayer tadpole.
“We have to assume it's at least partially a vampire and what do vampires need? Blood. Where is the blood Tav? Inside you. Where is the baby? Also inside you! Do you not see the problem?!”
"I've sustained you, haven't I?! I think I can handle another!" They retorted.
"That’s different. I have consciousness. I have control. I want to protect you. That-" He pointed to their stomach.
"doesn't. All it wants to do is live and it will, even at your expense. Gods, why is this even an argument?!" The vampire replied exasperated. Running his hand through his hair. Why was he so much more concerned about the ramifications of this than Tav was? It was their life that was in jeopardy. They sunk into a chair. It would be a lie to say that they weren’t concerned at all. His points were valid, but there was a counterpoint to be made.
“What if it’s not even a vampire at all? What if that can’t be passed down? It could be a half-elf.” What if the elf part was all that could be passed on? If that was the case then the largest part of his concerns went out the window. A half-elf pregnancy wasn’t uncommon. Surely something any doctor could handle.
“That feels incredibly optimistic. Do forgive me for not sharing in it, but we have to think in the worst case.” Given how most things in his life had gone it wasn’t odd for him to believe that things would continue to go wrong. Optimism was still quite new to the vampire.
"Astarion, we can figure this out. One way or the other. After everything we've been through I think we can handle a baby. What if…what if we never have another chance?" Tav looked up at him with pleading eyes.
"We've been fine without it and we already planned a life without it. Why is that suddenly ch-" Tav cut him off.
"Because we didn't think we could, but now we can. That has changed everything." They stood up and took his hand.
"You're set on this aren't you?" He sighed as his thumb rubbed over the back of their hand.
"Please, can we at least try? If-if it gets bad we’ll get help.” There were a few people they could turn to. How helpful they would be in this particular instance…well that would remain to be seen. Of course, they were going to look into this as much as possible before they decided to get anyone else involved. There were dozens of libraries on the coast including Candlekeep, surely at least one of them would have something regarding this. However, getting into Candlekeep was easier said than done.
“Alright, but if this goes terribly I won’t hesitate. I just got you Tav, and I won’t be losing you so soon. I can’t…” Tav heard the break in his voice and pulled him into a hug.
“I think you’re worrying too much. We just need to change some plans, do a little research and everything will be fine.” They said reassuringly.
“This does change all of our plans doesn’t it?” They couldn’t continue to travel and slay monsters with a little one in tow. Now they would have to consider settling down, getting steady jobs, and putting down roots. All things they had intended to do at some point, but now so much sooner than before and with one other to account for.
“Mhmm, but we’ve always been pretty good at adjusting plans.” Tav looked up at him with a soft smile.
“A rogue is nothing if not adaptable.” Astarion agreed.
#dadstarion#bg3 fan fic#bg3 fanfiction#throws this.#in the tag and runs.#comments feedback.#and questions encouraged.#tw pregnancy#tw mention of abortion#unsure if tagged properly.#please inform if wrong.
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Fool's Copper
After the mind flayer crisis, Astarion and most of his companions moved to the Grand Duchy of Dornig, the territory built upon the ancient home of the elfes. In Reywald, they have been trying to search for a cure for Astarion's vampiric condition through any means possible.
On a day, like any other in the last couple of years, a new challenge comes to the barkeeper vampire spawn's life in a shape of a strangely small dragon.
Read chapter 1 on AO3 😊
#bg3 fic#astarion bg3#bg3 astarion#fanfiction#bg3#astarion baldurs gate#baldurs gate astarion#astarion#baldur's gate 3#bg3 fanfiction#dungeons and dragons#dragon#copper dragon#dadstarion#kind of#midgard#AU#bg3 au
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