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frantic-fiction · 8 days

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The early stages of Astarion's romance as he's just beginning to fall for the player are so precious to me. There are so many lovely scenes/moments with Astarion's romance throughout the game that it's really hard to pick a favorite. Obviously, the final romance scene in the graveyard is incredibly beautiful and makes me weep, and the conversation you have with him after defending him from Araj is brilliant.

But honestly, the one scene I keep rotating in my head, even months post game release, is the scene where he propositions you for the second time. I love how it's both incredibly angsty and also painfully sweet to me? I love the silly flirting he does, I love the fake-ass manipulative "I love you," he give you (that might have made me a lil mad first time I played). And I especially love how much you can read between the lines in those moments. Personally, I'm a big believer that Astarion definitely has at least a bit of crush on the player at this point, if not already actively falling for them. The "I love you" might not have been 100% real in the moment, but his responses for when you both accept and reject his offer are very telling.

A lot has been said about how he seems to be genuinely disappointed when you turn him down the second time. And I think he is a bit disappointed, has a bit of a hurt ego probably. But mostly he seems very self-reflective. He mentions how he got on his back so many times for so many people and none of it was memorable or enjoyable, unlike with you. That's such a vulnerable thing to admit, something that he doesn't necessarily need to confess to Tav in order to manipulate them. It's like he's trying to grapple with the feelings himself. That subtle pause and look in his eyes right after he wishes us goodnight? He wants to connect with us in a non-sexual way SO BADLY but just can't feel safe enough to at this point.

When you accept his offer, he plays it off cool at first. But I love how right before the fade to black he says: "There you are. Now you're all mine and I'm all yours...At least until morning." He's literally thinking about how long you two can have this time alone together. And his cute little "Let’s see where the night takes us~" with this little happy sway and smile he does it's like...he's so eager to just have this time with us. He might still be trying to "seduce" and manipulate our feelings at this point, but he's so obviously just happy to be spending time with his favorite person.

The feelings were complex and obviously may have felt tainted by his plan, but I feel like it's all a part of him learning to enjoy intimacy again. Which eventually leads to him learning to enjoy non-sexual intimacy with his partner in Act II and III. Idk I just think watching all the stages of him falling in love and learning to be worthy of love is so neat.

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frantic-fiction · 8 days

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Ahhh, the way his eyes light up when he talks about murdering each other (consensually)

#and they say romance is dead

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frantic-fiction · 8 days

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I appreciate modern AU bg3 fanarts 😌

1 — kaisunstreehole 2 — ArtofKas

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frantic-fiction · 8 days

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I appreciate all of you with your beautifully poised Astarion screenshots where he is regal and sexy but also I love him most when he is being so weird

#so regal #peak astarion

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frantic-fiction · 8 days

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Hurtful Word

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 650 WC

Masterlist

Warnings: Astarion being a jackass for a hot second, fluff, hurt/comfort

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You limped over to Karlach, your whole being feeling drained. Healing everyone enough to get back to camp was taking its toll on your weary body. You gently pulled the arrow out of her calf before covering the wound with your hands. A soft blue glow emanated from them, closing her wound up enough until it was superficial. You slumped over, all power being drained from you until you could rest. You sighed heavily, running your hand over your sweaty brow.

“Can you heal Astarion?” Karlach said as she tested her weight on her leg. She pointed to him, he was across the way with a gash in his shoulder. He held himself, glove soaked in blood. You put your weary hands over the cut but your magic waned. Utterly exhausted, your body couldn’t muster it. You sighed.

“Fucking useless…” he muttered under his breath but you still caught it. Your body froze, as did his. You looked at him, tears starting to form in your eyes.

“Y/N… wait…” he said as you got up and started to walk towards the sigil back to camp. He tried to follow you but his shoulder was barely hanging on, he needed serious healing. You threw an angry yet hurt expression his way, stopping right before the sigil. “I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry… I’m just… utterly defeated. That’s no excuse my darling. I apologize.” he said sincerely reaching for your hand softly.

You took his hand, “I accept your apology.” you sniffled. “Take that tone with me again though and I swear to the gods…” you trailed off, Astarion chuckled as he caressed your face.

You lead him through the sigil, he swung your hands back and forth playfully. When you made it to your tent you took his armor off as gently as you could before having him drink a potion of superior healing. You cursed yourself for forgetting it and not bringing it to battle. You watched as Astarion’s wound closed slowly, the muscles and skin regrowing leaving behind nothing but a small scratch. You passed him a damp cloth to wipe the excess blood away while you riffled through your belongings for a clean shirt. You passed him a black night shirt you had for him. He slipped it on, both of you working in a comfortable silence. When you were both clean and finished you leaned against the pole holding your tent up, tilting your head back and closing your eyes. You felt Astarion move next to you, he kissed your shoulder before sighing.

‘What is it Star?” you asked, eyes fluttering open to look at him.

“I’m so sorry for what I said earlier.” he said.

You saw the wrinkles of guilt on his forehead and the disappointed look in his eyes. “Honey, it's done with. You apologized, I forgave you. That's the end of it.” You kissed his cheek, tilting his head up to look at him and see the sincerity in your words.

He closed his eyes, bringing your hand to his cheek so you were cradling it. He kissed your palm. You knew forgiveness was something he wasn’t familiar with, quite the opposite. He felt so guilty for snapping at you, somebody who had only shown him kindness and patience. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” he asked.

You caressed his cheek with your thumb, “Nope, no need. You are perfect darling.” you kissed the tip of his nose.

He smiled softly at your never ending sweetness. “I love you.” he said as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, kissing you once before resting there.

You giggled quietly, his white curls tickling your skin. “I love you.” you responded, kissing his forehead before resting your head on his. You drifted off to sleep after a short while, your aching body needing the reprieve.

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Naboo's Note:

Hey all! Sorry this one is a little short, I notice I always try to make my fics 1K+ but that can make it hard for me to post fics when I lack the motivation to write that much so I will try to post more but they might not all be super long. I hope that's ok? IDK let me know what ya'll feel/think about this. Anyways - I hope you guys like this one! Thanks for all the love, I look forward to the comments they motivate me so much! XOXOXOXOXOX!!!!!!!!

#the audible gasp i let out when he said 'fucking useless'#i was ready to swing on our boy #teach him some manners

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frantic-fiction · 9 days

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Currently in a 'everything I write is shit phase' and it sucks. I have ideas buzzing in my brain but when I go to type them out, it's like my mind doesn't work 🙃. Does anyone know how to hard reboot the human brain, I can pay with monopoly money and tic tacs

#franticfiction ramble #nothing important #just my mental health shit

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frantic-fiction · 10 days

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ASKING AFTER THEIR FRIENDS I Baldur's Gate III

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frantic-fiction · 10 days

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#speechless 😳

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frantic-fiction · 13 days

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— Bedroom Hymns

› astarion x f!reader

› wc: 2k+

› a/n: fic banner creds to @dhampling <3 also I was gripped by the thought of him being a nasty little freak and feeling like if he didn't get you pregnant with another baby he'd just die on the spot

warnings : pregnancy, breeding, creampie, blood and blood drinking, masturbation, fingering, teasing, he's a messy eater lmao

Rain patters the roof, each droplet striking like a drop of metal against the terracotta though it’s not the only thing that robs you of sleep.

It’s been two years since the birth of your child. Two years of milestones, two years of putting all else on hold for the wonderful little girl that slep soundly just one room over. You may be horrifically biased but the two of you were lucky enough to have created what was possibly the most charming babe in all the realms. For Astarion you knew it was love at first sight.

The adoration he held for that child was next to nothing, it’s own category of madness and love. Recalling it brough the faintest whisper of a smile to your face as you turn over, groggily eyeing the glaringly vacant spot beside you in bed.

He’d gone hunting, as you both kept calling it long after no longer being in the wilds. It was just… familiar. And it kept curious little ears from asking too many questions that required as yet too complex answers. Hunting was easy to grasp and kept their shared befanged appearance from being something other than a simple trait of her fathers she was overjoyed to have. On days that ended with you feeling haggard and worse for wear he would ardently refuse to feed from you. This had been one such day.

One of many. How long had it been since you had more than a brief window to take advantage of if you wanted to indulge in each other? How long had it been since you felt your lovers teeth scrape the tender flesh of your neck, since the shivers of anticipation crawled down your spine?

Too long.

Familiar longing makes you squeeze your thighs together beneath the duvet, biting your fingers recalling previous trysts that had left you all but a puddle of water in his hands.

Gods only know how long he’ll be gone, and you know self pleasure is a quick path towards sleep.

As your mind drifts to vivid images of him your hand slips between your legs: the feel of his hair when you give it faint tugs while he languishes between your legs, the way his gaze becomes something predatory when he looks at you in a certain light and how it makes your heartbeat speed into a reckless gallop, the way his tongue feels against your skin-

Before the coil in your abdomen begins to tighten you hear it, the tell tale graon of the windowsill supporting his weight. In some faraway annoyance you remind yourself to tell him again that you have a perfectly functional front door.

For some reason you remain frozen beneath the covers, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end as you hold your breath. Even with your eyes closed you know hes there, even with lesser senses you can hear his snow soft footfalls, but even so his speed still catches you off guard. Gasping as he manuvers you onto your back, crouched over you with pupils blown so wide the crimson of his irises is barely visible.

“I take it you’ve had a good night?” you smirk, nearly preening against the feeling of his hands gripping your wrists gingerly to hold them on either side of your head.

“Hm it smells like you were having an even better one,” his voice comes out a playful whisper. Before you can react he brings one of your hands to his face, making heat blaze beneath your skin.

Your mouth falls open watching his tongue slide against the fingers that had been sliding through your own arousal not seconds before.The feeling of him taking your finger into his mouth, licking around the appendage in the most obscene way, makes your thoughts cloud and your heart pick up into it’s familiar racing tempo he conducts so effortlessly.

Your eyes follow a strand of glittering spit connecting your finger to his lips, so focused you nearly miss him speak.

“Won’t you tell your lover what was on your mind while you were touching yourself?”

Your voice cracks. “You.”

He gives a playful hmph before letting go of you, leaving your hand to fall dumbly against your sternum.

“Well, that was a given.” He leans down to press his face against the side of your neck, inhaling before pressing his lips to your feverish skin. “Any specific debauchery, though?”

You struggle for words, mentally grasping at air mid free fall as his hips press down to grind himself against you.

“Since the cats got your tongue I have proposition for you,” He breaths against your cleavage as he nuzzles his face over your heartbeat. As your breathing grows heavier he continues, making your own eyes widen as each word goes straight to your cunt.

“I think we should have another little vampling.”

It’s as if he yanks all the oxygen from the room, leaving you starved and struggling even harder, dizzy against the feeling of his erection pressing against you and the wave of emotion that threatens to overwhelm.

“Another?

“Mhm,” his tongue licks a fat stripe from between your breasts up the side of your neck.

All coherent thought has faltered for you, replaced by fractured urges as your hips buck up against him in response. You aren’t thinking about the practicality of another child, theres simply no room for it when your every sense is being crowded by each aspect of his presence above you.

Quickly the duvet is discarded, flung off your body and your nightdress hiked up to give him access to your now damp underwear. He takes full advantage, rubbing his tumb over your clothed clit and clearly enjoying the way it makes you give a little yelp, the way your legs jerk as if touched by live electricity.

“Can’t you just picture it? I know I can,” his fingers pull the thin fabric to the side, sliding easily through the mess of arousal between your folds as he whispers against your panting lips. “You looked so beautiful before, all swollen with child and milk. Radiant. Decadent.”

You’re reduced to primitive noises, speech completely failing now as he slides two fingers inside you, knuckles easily sliding past the relaxed muscles before he starts lightly scissoring them against the slick velvet of your walls. Your fingers twist against the fabric of his shirt at his back, teeth catching your bottom lip as you moan his name in choppy syllables.

Smugness and desire mingle in his expression as his lips devour yours, drinking down your noises and gasps as if you’re a fountain of the finest wine. Your hips move to grind against his hand as his thumb presses against your throbbing clit once more, keeping light, consistent pressure but no movement.

His habit of teasing always shone through.

But your impatience is infectious, and once he deems you sufficiently ready as quickly as possible his fingers withdraw and he leans back on his knees, undoing his trousers with fumbling fingers before mauvering to shimmy them off. The garment is flung into the murky depths of your bedroom floor as he cages you with one forearm, the other hand busy guiding the head of his cock through the mess between your legs before lining the head up and beginning the slow push inside.

It never fails to leave you lightheaded, no matter how many times you’ve taken him before. The way your body accommodates him so eagerly, the way he sits heavy inside you as inch by inch slots perfectly against your walls, the head of his cock brushing against the spot that turns your viscion to static the more stimulation he gives.

As if you were made for one another. You wholeheartedly believe it.

He gives you little time to adjust, rather immediately setting a deep, steady pace. His rhythm isn’t harsh or bruising, not even as he cages you with both arms now and as your uneven breathing mingles in the milimeter of space between your faces. Each pull out is deliciously slow, allowing you to feel every vein and curve before the push back has your fingers digging into his shoulder blades.

As the slick squealching fills the room, the sound of skin sticking to skin joining in some pornographic symphony, your legs come to wrap around his hips and your ankles lock behind him. Pressing lightly with your heels your urge him on, urge him to make good on his word and give you more.

He answers in kind, teeth nipping against your bottom lip as his pace picks up speed and he presses forward just enough to shift your legs even higher and give himself better access to hit deeper inside you. It makes you nearly wail, broken sounds now joining in the bedroom hymn and a particular urgency grips your body like a coil winding tight. Your breathing comes in wheezes as he presses even harder against you, cock hitting that spot that makes your toes curl and your mouth drop open in a silent wail, fingernails scraping against his back and your thigh muscles scream from the exertion of tensing so harshly.

The pressure of your cunt clenching around him in a vise grip makes choppy groans fall from his lips but his rhythm never falters as you crest the high of your orgasm, your moans taking on a higher pitch and your hips wriggling beneath his as his own keep their course driving into you again and again.

However, the barrage of menta images of you carrying yet another babe makes him devolve into a sloppy, broken pace rather quickly. It’s an urge, an ache he carries so deeply inside himself and he has to give this to you. Like a man posessed, acting on base desire his hand comes to cradle the back of your head and keep your steady as his fangs create their usual pinpricks against your neck before widening them as they find a home against your vein.

The taste of liquid metal explodes against his tongue at the same time his hips hit one final time against you before he can’t resist any longer, spilling ropes of thick, hot cum inside your greedy cunt. He can feel your equally warm blood smearing against his lips and chin as he messily laps at the side of your neck, keening like some pathetic animal as your walls massage his cock as if to take every last drop he has to give.

Wet sucking sounds and animalistic grunts replace the previous bodily meoldy, as the final, haunting notes on the decresendo of some sweeping piece. Your fingers move to tangle in the sweat damp hair at the nape of his neck, lightly caressing and encouraging him to have his fill.

You’ve always been so sweetly accommodating, it makes his fangs ache.

With a few more licks to help somewhat clean up the mess hes made of your throat, he lends back, pulling out of you with a gravelly sigh but keeping ahold of your thighs and maintaining the pushed up position of your legs.

Even with your eyes closed, impossibly heavy now from the exhaustion and afterglow, you can feel his eyes zeroed in on the sight of his cum dripping from you and you already know you’ll be left in a state beyond exhaustion by the time the early morning hours roll around.

But that was a problem for the near future version of yourself. Your lovers primal tendancies become your own, making your eyes crack open hungrily and hold him steady in your gaze.

The sight of him, still panting, lips slightly parted and your lifeblood smeared in wild tracks across the lower half of his face makes something click into place inside your head and your arms reach out for him once more.

As he wastes no time in pressing himself against you anew you can’t help the satisfied smile that lazily works across your features and bleeds into your kiss.

The strange symphony of your bedroom resumes anew, enveloping you both tightly as the rest of the world continues it’s unaware slumber.

#currently rabid #soooo good #astarion x reader #astarion smut

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