#baldur’s gate spoilers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pursuitseternal · 4 months

Text

“Antics of the Newly Ascended:” ✨🩸What it must have been like right after the Rite for… everyone…

Ascended Astarion x F!Reader | E | 4.4K of “Ascension Puberty” and Smut

Summary: “I can’t yet speak its language…” Astarion doesn’t know all his powers, despite the title of Vampire Ascendant, despite having a Bride at his side. Suppose these manifest themselves surprisingly, even awkwardly… a bit of comedy and smut.

CW: awkward campmates, Vampires stuck on the ceiling, peacock-preening Ascendant Lords, Bride/Spawn Tav also learning what it means to be a vampire, and the hot smut that always delivers (oral sex, hand job, anal fingering, blood kink, dom and sub!Astarion)

Ao3 Link | Astarion fic Masterlist

The First Day…

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

A/N: Mostly, I consider this Astarion’s Ascension puberty, that awkward time he’s getting to know his “changing” body… and how it might surprise him sometimes. In my own play-thru, it strikes me that after the Rite, it’s just life as usual for everyone. I like to think there are some lingering feelings and learning curves… so here is some comedy and smut (a gift to @marimosalad because the double stimulation towards the end was her amazing idea 😘)

Not quite “The Rogue You Were” maybe a prequel

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

You had heard he had demanded his own room now at the Elfsong. Wyll had told you, his one good eye rolling in its socket with ire. “His Lordship demanded a separate chamber for him and his.. consort,” he had spat the word out with disgust in your direction, “one that befits his new status and power of Vampire Ascendant.” Wyll sneered, put out, jilted. That forever part of him that was a monster hunter and hero still unable to wrap his mind around what you did for love. “You best not keep him waiting, Consort.”

Someday, the Blade of Frontiers might understand. But not today, not one day into Astarion’s reign as Ascendant and your new immortal life at his side.

Now you creep outside his door, just one room over. The same he had stolen you away to last night… when you became his, when you died to be reborn his consort. He had pointedly refused to really call you spawn. And while the memories of that night were hazy, aside from the most glorious sex of your existence, you knew whatever was done was done.

You waited, your hearing even sharper now, heightened as vampire. From behind the door you hear groaning, grunts of effort, and sighs of exertion.

And you frown. Could he really be… taking care of himself… after everything you had done with him last night? Even now this evening, with you merely a wall away? Like you wouldn’t come running for pleasure if he called for you, with or without compelling?

You knock on the door. Hard. Furious. If your heart still beat, it would be racing in rage.

“Leave me,” he barks back.

“Astarion,” you hiss. And then you knock harder. “Let me in.”

Inside, you hear scrambling, boots scraping on wood. A messy hurry of activity punctuated by curses.

If you hadn’t been there yesterday, hadn’t felt the lives of so many flow into your beloved, hadn’t been spattered by Cazador’s blood yourself as the same Infernal ruins were carved in his flesh… you would scoff at the suggestion Astarion was at all changed.

You finally hear the door handle unlock, and riding the swell of your self-righteous anger, you burst in.

“After all I have done for you… all I did to get you that Ascension, all the times I spread my legs, you insist on…”

You freeze. The door behind you shuts by magic. And looking up beside you, you see why. “Astarion,” you begin, much quieter, trying to stifle a laugh, if only from the pure irritation that seethes on his sharp face, “why are you on the ceiling?”

He hangs upside down, that mess of silver curls near standing on their ends. His face is flushing, that newly reborn heart letting all that magnificent, ascendant blood rush to his head. He folds his arms and spreads his legs. As if he could be intimidating while being inverted.

“I told you this morning, my treasure, it will take some time to become acquainted with my new self.”

You scan the room, skin tingling at the memories of pleasure not one day ago. And yet, here he was being more ridiculous than ever before. “So… the private room isn’t just for mind-blowing sex now that you and I are joined for eternity…” you fight the smirk on your lips as his upside down glower deepens. “It’s so you have some privacy as you… practice.”

“Don’t you dare… tell the others,” he growls, pure irritation and annoyance seething in his voice.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, my love,” you chuckle, extending your arm above your head as you walk beneath him. “Need a hand, my beloved vampiric master?”

He pouts, grumbling, but reluctantly reaches to grab you. His fingers wrap into yours, that warm touch of his still shocking and foreign. You pull with all your might, feeling his body release from the ceiling, floating as you tug him down until his feet rest beside yours.

He’s fuming, chest rising and falling beneath that elegantly embroidered tunic he has taken to wearing.

You grin, reaching to stroke his cheek as his parlor resumes that pale luster you know and love. Cleaning your throat, you purr, “And this is where you say…”

“Take off your clothes, my beloved consort,” he smirks and sneers at once, jutting his face into yours until you feel his warm breath on your lips.

“Not until you say…” you pause, arching your brows.

You wait. His lips fluttering, eyes boring into yours with almost glowing red intensity.

“….thank you,” he finally grumbles. Barely audible.

You turn your head, cocking your ear in his direction. “I’m sorry, what was that, my lord?”

“Thank you,” he replies louder through gritted teeth.

You can’t help but have another giggle tickle your throat. “I have no doubts you’ll master your powers in time, and until then, I’ll be here for you, my love, to lend you a hand.”

He gives an annoyed sigh. “By the hells, if the others find out…” he hisses, mad at himself rather than you.

“I think I can keep my mouth shut around them, and busy doing other things around you…” you close the distance between you, small as it might be, raising on your toes to press your lips against his, despite the disdainful pout.

“Hmmm tempting, but I do find myself rather famished…” he pats you on the cheek.

You grin, tilting your neck and sweeping your hair, an offering to sate him as you always have. You hold your breath, his lips hovering over that favorite vein of his. But he merely plants a small pecking kiss. “Delicious as you are, I think I’m in need of something more… filling.”

“Food?” you balk, jaw dropping as he catches your hand and opens the door.

“All of man’s appetites and desires are mine again, and after two-hundred years of food like ash and wine like vinegar, it’s time I started tasting all life has to offer.”

He turns, his face grins in power, but there is something in his eyes. Giddy, almost childish in excitement, like waking to presents on your birthday. It lasts a flickering second before he turns his head. You follow, hand held in his warm grip, led back into the common rooms. The scent of roast pork and vegetables fills the air. He lets your hand drop, making quick strides to the serving table before carving himself a huge hunk of meat off the carcass and ladling a pile of potatoes on the side of his dish.

“Well,” Wyll comments as the vampire settles down in a seat, “never thought I’d see the day when a vampire joins the feast with more than a goblet of blood.”

“First time for everything Wyll,” he croons in reply, taking a hearty bite just for emphasis. He doesn’t even wait to swallow completely before he continues. “First time a vampire ascendant has feasted, or existed, at all, don’t you forget.”

“I doubt you’ll let us,” Karlach teases before taking a sip of ale as ripples of laughter break out.

A bit nervously.

You look at the food, your stomach more than hungry, but… You recall as you lick your lips and catch your new fang on your tongue by accident, it’s not just food you crave.

You hear your name from the group, Karlach again breaking the chatter, “Hurry up, dish yourself a plate and get moving soldier. It’s not the same without you!”

You pick up the knife and begin to carve, but nagging thoughts won’t shut up. Can you even eat this? Can you ever feel full again? Can it ever be the same again, now that you’ve binded yourself to immortality?

A hand rests on yours, Astarion moving your hand in his to finish cutting a slice of pork for your dish, spooning out a helping on the side of the rest. “Eat, my treasure,” he orders softly with that sly smile. “Things won’t be all that different for you now.” You look into his eyes. Sincerity, pride, a flicker of concern. “Things will be different for you than when I was a spawn. You are mine, your veins hold my blood, ascendant blood. And besides, if this doesn’t fill you to bursting, my dearest pet, I suppose I’ll just have to offer you something else in the privacy of our room later.”

You arch a brow, stomach growling at the promise. “I hope you mean more than your cock, Astarion.”

He just grins wider. Feral and sly. Then he places a hand at your back and brings you to the rest of your party. You can sense the relief among everyone else once you sit down on the little couch, Astarion settling so close beside you, your arms rub with every movement. But that is nothing new.

Everyone falls right back into that perfected camaraderie, the only thing missing in the inn is a campfire. The banter and the toasting and the storytelling of the day's events to those who remained behind.

Tonight was no different… and yet, everything was.

Your ears seem to hear every word in the room, more sensitive, more overwhelming. Your stomach gnaws on itself, the plate of food on your lap untouched yet. And then, there is the utterly unfamiliar sound beside you, the gnashing of Astarion’s teeth as he bites into his food with abandon. You watch from the corner of your eye. He can’t seem to shovel it in fast enough… like a man who hasn’t had a morsel to eat in two-hundred years. It’s so… strange. Watching his jaw work furiously, watching the juice of his meal trickle from the corner of his mouth.

Not unlike when he has fed on you, you laugh inwardly. You reach your thumb to clean it for him, and it makes him turn, cheeks full of food, eyes smiling. He takes your thumb in his hand, pressing the juice to your own lips. A silent command to suck. You close your eyes, savoring the brush of his warm touch, hiding your sight from having to observe the others watching you.

You part your lips and suck… stomach rolling in hunger, appetite thoroughly whet with just that drop on your tongue.

You feel his face press against your ear to whisper, “Different for you than it was for me, my treasure…”

You shake him off, too hungry for sensuality, digging into your meal and joining the banter slowly.

Astarion remains mostly silent, laughing to himself here and there. Other than him eating and drinking, he is right however, it isn’t all that different now, you observe. Not yet anyway.

Not until he has you alone in your rooms once more. Hands gripped hard into your hair, cock thrusting down your throat as you kneel before him. You gag and sputter, sucking greedily. Indulging him. Letting him feel that power he’s gained in his life for once. His wild smile as he watches you taking him in so well makes you practically drip on the floor from between your legs. He pants relentlessly, growling praises over you, his little love, his good girl, his greedy consort.

New words, new titles, same obsession.

Same fingers caressing your jaw as it works eagerly, same touch clawing into the back of your head.

Only now his cock pulses with his heart, his skin flushed, his cum warm when it inevitably trickles down the back of your throat.

You swallow, pursing your lips around his cock so he feels every little ripple of your cheeks, your throat. Astarion pants above you, and you can count every one of his heart beats through his shaft in your mouth. “Glorious little love,” he manages to speak, swallowing to wet his throat. “Claiming a kingdom is nothing compared to the sight of claiming you on your knees, darling…”

Two fingers slip under your chin, pressing firmly to release his cock from the wet of your mouth. “On your feet, my love,” he smirks. “Time to give your master all his tribute.”

“You are enjoying this far too much, Astarion,” you purse your lips, smiling faintly and tauntingly as you do stand. “I think you should allow me to choose how you receive your… what did you call it?” You plant your hands on the expanse of his shoulders, feeling the muscles moving under your touch as he reaches to grip into the swell of your ass.

“Tribute,” he purrs, squeezing that fullness commandingly in his palms.

“Oh yes, that,” you tease, devious twists to your lips as you give him a firm shove. But he holds tight, sending you both backwards into the bed. His chuckle rumbles in his chest beneath you. “Why doesn’t my lord make himself… comfortable,” you whisper into his pointed ear, watching it twitch as you run your tongue up its long edge.

“What do you have in mind to please me, my treasure?”

You press him down, clambering on his sprawled, flawless body beneath you, your hands closing around his wrists. His smile says it all as he lets you pin him, arms bent around his mess of silver locks. “You’re so… hot,” you moan, sliding yourself over his erection, feeling it jolting as your body slathers it in arousal.

“I know,” he tilts his head, flashing his fangs and grinding into your folds.

“No, I mean…” His eyes narrow, a flicker of suspicion. “Yes,” you correct with a giggle. “You are heartbreakingly handsome, devastatingly beautiful, ruinous…”

“Better,” he preens with a feral grin. “But you meant my body, my skin, my newly beating heart…”

“It is… different,” you hum, nuzzling into his neck, caressing those two little circular scars that made him what he is. His pulse beats against you, a steady drumming that still startles you.

“Almost as different as the way you make me even harder, darling, now that the mere sight of you demands instant arousal…” His hips buck through your folds again, just to demonstrate. “Now… about your adulation and homage that’s long overdue to your lord and master…”

“Shh,” you press a finger to his thick, wicked, smirking lips. Slinking down, a toss of your hair over one shoulder, and you meet his crimson eyes, dilated wide and glazed with his lust. Gently, you sweep both your hands over the sinews of his thighs, bending his knees for him.

Or, at least he lets you…

He nestles into the bed, languorous, luxuriating atop the thick covers. You let him. You can feel the difference in his being—not the power, the beat of his heart or the tingle of untamed magic that dances erratically in his touch from time to time.

He’s free. Not a care in the world. No fear, no anxiety, not even a trace of suspicion that he might be caught and forced back into hell under Cazador. He has everything now. Even you. Especially you.

You hover there, arms propped up over his hips, the tip of his cock wavering against your breasts as you just observe him. His lips twitch into a smile. “It’s rude to keep your lover waiting, you know…” he purrs. You chuckle. That veneer of power, that rasp and roll in his voice, a performance to sway you.

Not that you need it.

But it will be fun cracking that veneer all the same. You let your hands roam his body, massaging and caressing the powerful muscles of his legs. Their every definition you know by heart now, the glide of his skin on yours a nightly comfort and pleasure for you both.

Your new eyes can count every beat of his heart in his veins, your ears can almost hear that rush of blood pumping, making him achingly hard for you. And it makes you lick your lips. You lap inside his left thigh, bringing a giggle to his throat. “Don’t think I’ll leave you hungry, my pet, but pleasure first.”

“Say please,” you taunt, grazing your new fangs over his skin. As he has done to you a thousand times before.

“What?” he drolls, raising his head a little, your hand flying to the hard planes of his belly to hold him down.

“Say… please… my lord,” you smirk into his thigh, laughing to yourself as you mix submission into your demand.

“Eager to test your new powers as well? Can’t say I’m surprised…” he feigns a dramatic huff. “Alright pet, just this once. Give me my pleasure first…” he places a hand at the back of your neck, drawing you back between his legs, “…please.”

“Good boy,” you rasp before running your tongue up his shaft. You dip your lips over that seeping head of his, his groan of pleasure reverberating in his chest. Your hand, your mouth take him in deeply again, resuming a more delicate pressure, a gentler pace than he demanded of you before. It relaxes him, slowing his pleasure as you feel his skin heating all the more.

And you take full advantage of his ease.

You press a thumb over the tight little pursing of his ass. Instantly making him shake and groan. Both your hands play in tandem, drawing louder and louder hisses from his slack mouth as you beat his cock and circle that hole.

He squirms at the unexpected contact. A pant of need sounds from his mouth. You run your hand through your folds, covering your hand in your own slick, and he laughs knowing full well what you’re doing.

But that laughter melts once you sneak a finger and then two inside him, the delicious sound of his whimpers replacing any giggles. “Gods,” he mewls, “don’t you dare stop.” He manages to speak between the grunts you pull from his throat. Thrusting your fingers deeper inside him crooking and thrusting to make him catch his breath in pleasure. You feel his cock leaking seed down your fingers already, a whine escaping his clamped lips as you find that spot inside him. Cock jolting in your touch as you thrust into him again and again.

You lose no focus on that pulsing cock as well, your hand around his shaft sliding through the lingering spit and slick you’ve left dripping on his cock. His whole body shakes, and you can’t take your eyes off the way he’s coming undone. You’ve given up sucking him, your lips sore at any rate.

Instead, your hands work a magic on him, sweat beading on brow, fangs biting his own lips until they bleed. He clutches the bedding in his fists, and you watch as every vein in his arms strain to the surface with the exertion.

Hips buck in time with your fist around his cock, ass sinking back down on your fingers as he plummets back down each time. “More. I’d like more,” he groans hard, head wagging back and forth. You feel his muscles clenching around your fingers, and you slink another one inside, a louder whimper of approval is your praise. Words have failed him as he can do nothing now but ride the growing wave of pleasure you have sent washing over his oh-so-mighty and ascended form.

His balls tighten, cock shuddering in your fist as he struggles for breath. Every muscle, inside and out, goes rigid and spasms, your fingers covered as spurt after spurt of his cum erupts everywhere.

A hand flies to his face, palm over his mouth to hide the little pants he’s making as you squeeze out the last of his seed and slide your fingers out from inside.

“Is my lord… so… very… pleased?” you taunt, crawling to watch as he tries to regain composure, to salvage that dominating veneer of power.

Handsome face twitching, he can barely put two words together. “Obviously,” he manages to eke the word out. “That was…” he pauses to pant, body still shaking beneath you with the last tremors of his climax, “…amazing.” His arm comes to pull you into his chest, to press your supple, if cold to the touch, body into his embrace.

You hear it, the racing of his heart as you rest your head on his chest beside it. A slice of envy, of uncertainty, slices into your heart and twists your gut. And from the way his hand paws through your hair and down your back, you’re sure he’s readying himself for another round.

You swallow, hesitant, your thighs clenching as his hand begins to snake between them. He senses it, your unwitting reluctance. That familiar yet unfamiliar warm touch ghosting higher on your leg. “Darling,” he purrs into the top of your head, “something the matter?”

You shake your head even as your words scramble their own way out. “Last night,” you whisper almost inaudibly, “you said you would miss my warm flesh…”

“And…?” He lets the question hang in the air. Lets you speak the rest of it on your own tongue.

“Do you?” you mutter, unable to look into his face, bracing yourself for the worst.

“Not if it means I can plunder you for all your riches for all eternity, my treasure,” he croons, slowly rolling you on your back. Crushing you with his wiry frame until you wriggle against his every inch. “But, if you’re truly worried about how delicious you’ll feel…” he holds his wrist up to your mouth, “why don’t you break in those virgin fangs, my pet?”

“You mean?” you finally look up, the hunger in his eyes, the pride to see you licking your own new-formed sharpened teeth.

“I do indeed, my dark consort,” he smirks so wickedly, your own hunger for his blood and his body flames to life. It blinds you as you look into his eyes. “You’ll only need a taste,” he grins with a rakish tilt of his head, “I swear it.”

He presses the inside of his wrist to your lips, that warm skin brushing you with its softness. You can hear it, even in that small span of his wrist. Thump… thump… it makes your stomach flare, an empty pit, hungrier than you ever were for food.

And just for him.

You press your fangs into his skin. Hesitant.

A firm grip snakes behind the back of your neck, his laughter in your ear as he shoves you into his flesh harder.

Hard enough to pierce him, to let his blood flow on your tongue and tingle your mouth with its power. Rich and delicious, sweet and tanged with just the same flavor as his scent. You suck, greedily, a vague feeling you’ve tasted it before.

His other hand rubs up the back of your head, lacing his commanding touch through your hair, cradling you, keeping you feeding. His eyes flicker shut, tongue licking his lips before his mouth goes slack in his own pleasure.

He likes the way it feels, having you feast on him, drinking down his ascendant blood to pool in your belly.

“Can you feel it?” he murmurs, “my power flowing in your veins… my heart beating in your breast.” His hand ghosts down over your shoulder to cup firmly around that breast. “Your skin is flushing, your folds will swell even fuller the more you take me inside you…”

You release your mouth, a moan slithering from your sticky throat as his fingers pluck and play with your nipple.

“There is no one more worthy of this than you, my little love,” he slides his wrist from your lapping tongue, fingers clawing loosely around your throat to lift you against his own hungering lips. “You need not fear anything, I told you, not even the worry that your immortal flesh would ever repel me, my darling.”

You curl into his arms, letting his warmth seep through you, inside and out. His kiss dances slowly with your lips, his tongue licking all his blood from your fangs and lips. A hum of satisfaction rumbling in his throat, “Mmm… You taste… divine…”

“You mean… you taste divine, my love,” you laugh into his kiss. You place your hand against his neck, softly pushing him off of you.

“I do indeed,” he purrs, his knee shoving your thigh to the side, spreading you wider. “As do you, if I may?” His silver brow arches, wry and mischievous. You tilt your head, your neck already sore from last night, from where he sucked you dry. You hiss, delicious pain slicing through you, his fangs in your neck burying the same moment his cock sheaths into your folds.

Hip undulating slowly, he drinks noisily behind your ear. And you do feel on fire, burning as hot as him, the friction of his thrusts, the trickle of your blood down your neck… they scald you.

They make you feel alive in his arms, alive with him fucking between your thighs.

It’s enough to shatter you in a matter of moments, his lips barely off your bleeding neck before you clench and spam around his pulsing cock. Your voice tears from your throat in a scream. So much fuller and hotter than ever he felt inside your walls. Thicker. Heating you from within. The pressure drives you wild, your climax more intense than ever as you writhe beneath him, as stars cover your vision and pleasure steals your breath.

He laughs again, that tickled giggle to watch you panting to catch your breath, barely able to make a sound more than a whimper yourself. “That’s right, my pet, let them all hear you through these flimsy walls….”

You laugh, breathy and quick, wrapping your thighs tightly around his waist. “So quick to forget what I managed to reduce you to?” You steal a hand back to his clenching ass, returning your touch to that tight little hole.

He gasps, biting his lips as if to keep himself from crying out again. “Don’t you ever tell them,” he growls, smiling with that predacious gleam in the crimson of his eyes.

“I don’t need to,” you can’t help but laugh, letting the words already in your mind already make you smile. Even if they are his own… even if he just might make you pay deliciously for them for the rest of the night, “given the noise you made, I’m sure they already know…”

405 notes · View notes