Eluneslights
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A golden ticket named Lady Jade falls into Astarion’s lap when House Selemchant offers him a deal—one that opens the gates to Amn’s glittering aristocracy. In his carefully woven plan, she is merely a steppingstone to the riches, secrets, and power hidden within the Merchant’s Domain.
But when lust sinks its teeth into innocence, and shadows corrupt the courtly splendor, the Vampire Lord will discover that ambition comes with a cost and even the most brilliant plans can shatter in a heartbeat.“Oh, you’re right.” His voice is silk now, deadly smooth. “It’s a terrible idea.”
His face is just inches from yours now. The heat of him surrounds you.
“Because if I had you… I wouldn’t stop.”
His hand rises—fingertips ghosting just above your arm, never touching.
“Because I’d taste every inch of you…Leave bruises that sing pleasure in places only you’d know. Because I’d make you scream my name into a pillow while the entire manor feasts below.”
He tilts his head, studying you like a man pondering a sin worth committing.
“Because I’d ruin you for anyone else.”
A pause.
“Doesn’t it sound so awful… you simply cannot refuse?”
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Captured by the Gur, Astarion finds himself bound in ropes and iron—interrogated, starved, and stripped bare. His only reprieve comes from you, a girl raised by the tribe but never quite at home in it. Kindness can seep deeper than cruelty, but freedom always comes with a price—sometimes, it’s the heart that bleeds first.
“…Thank you.” he whispers after taking a sip. The words barely stir the air.
You settle beside the cage, arms wrapped around your knees, firelight dancing on the ground between you.
For a while, neither of you speaks. Then, softly, you ask:
“How are you?”
He lets out a breath of a laugh. Hollow. Dry. Splintered.
“As well as one can be, passed like cargo from one captor to the next.”
You glance at his trembling hands as he lifts the cup.
“…The voice…” you murmur. “Is it still there?”
He nods once.
“Stronger now. The closer we draw to the city, the louder he gets. And I’m… tired. Starving. He claws at the back of my mind like a wild thing trying to crawl through. I can barely hold him back.”
You rise, determined.
“I’ll be back.”
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Astarion’s restless nights are haunted by dreams he won’t speak of. Satisfying his insatiable hunger on you brings only fleeting relief — until one night, the walls finally crumble and desire and confession collide.
“Truly, you shouldn’t be concerned.” he murmurs, voice thick and dreamy with desire. “Just relax. Let me enjoy you.”
You gasp as he kisses down your body.
“….Astarion.” you whisper. “I love when you enjoy me. I do. But…”
Your words falter as he kisses your thigh—slow, reverent, maddening.
“Shhh…” he hushes, and the sound is almost sweet—if it weren’t soaked in sin. “Maybe I should tell you what I thought about all day long? Make you forget these silly thoughts.”
“Because, darling-all I could think about was you—sweaty, slick, trembling beneath me while I make you scream my name.”
Your breath catches so hard it almost hurts.
He looks up at you, eyes glowing with dangerous adoration.
His hands are pulling at your clothes—slow, sure, stripping you down like it’s his right, his ritual. His mouth keeps trailing lower, worship and possession tangled together in every kiss.
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This fic is a joke that I absolutely am having a blast writing. Tav's faith prevents her from satisfying some of Astarion's sinful desires, until he finds a loophole that could finally bring him relief he so desperately seeks. Now the only issue is he will need some "divine assistance". So... que in Gale. Lol.
“…Brothers and sisters of restraint.” comes the solemn voice of a priest inside “let us remember the words of our Lord Ilmater—He Who Endures. Let us strive not for carnal pleasures, but for spiritual patience. For the body may dock… but never rock.”
Astarion blinks. He leans a little closer, boots silent on the stone path.
Inside, a soft chorus replies in unison:
“Praise be.”
The priest continues, voice echoing with pure, unwavering devotion:
“In times of temptation, we turn not to thrust, but to trust. Not to friction, but to fortitude.”
Astarion stares through the sliver of open door, jaw slowly unhinging.
“Wait. Wait. Did they just say… the body may dock?”
He squints, as if double-checking reality. Acolytes in full ceremonial robes are nodding. No one is laughing. No one is screaming blasphemy. This is real.
“That’s allowed?” he breathes. “That’s canon?”
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He was supposed to use you. Feed, manipulate, survive. But when the bite turns intoxicating—for both of you—the lines between pleasure, power, and trust begin to blur. He thought he lost himself and you want to lose yourself in him, but the initial insatiable lust grows into something much bigger.
“Yes, yes. You saved me – now let me help you” you get up tugging on his hand.
“Stubborn little thing, aren’t you?” he grunts but gets up with you “One might think you’re the one starving here” he adds with a seductive smile.
“Just be quiet” you pull him closer as you lean back onto a stone plated cabinet.
He stares into your eyes for a long moment, then finally gives in.
He moves slowly this time. Carefully. One hand brushes your hair back, fingers lingering at your jaw. The other steadies your shoulder as he leans in. When his lips graze your skin, it’s not like before. There’s no rush. No frenzy. Just cold breath. His mouth carefully clasps your neck and he lingers there for a while- silent, still.
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Persephone, the Dark Urge, meets a cheeky little quasit in an abandoned basement.
A two-foot tall point of view.
~*~*~
"Time moves strangely in the web of void stretched taut between the skin of the planes.
Nowhere to turn but her mind for company, Shovel had grown to hate the sound of her own voice inside her head. At times, she had achieved a perfect silence in her thoughts, a perfectly lovely bit of nothing to pass the time.
Her limbs were locked in place, curled against her body. There was no heat, no chill - barely any sort of sensation at all as the sands of time ticked idly down, or maybe up. Direction meant nothing, here.
Illy always did this. Left her in the dimensional pocket for ages on end when he didn’t want to share.
...
Just Shovel and the Void."~*~author note~*~
Did I spend a little too much time studying quasits? Probably. Do I regret it? Not at all.
~*~*~
Takes place during Part 2 of "The Whimpering Dawn" universe series, but neither is required reading for the other.Bookmarked by Eluneslights
04 Oct 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
Omg I Loveeeeeeeeeeee the way you write her so much! I literally did not care for her one bit before i read your first story, darling, but now i can't get enough. This is FANTASTIC <333
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Sortita: The first aria sung by each leading character in an opera.
Still reeling from total memory loss, Persephone stumbles into a precarious struggle that leaves the Sword Coast on the brink of war and tyranny - armed with nothing but her name and a little black harp.
Between the pale elf with questionable intentions and an evocative young bard, will she be able to fight the Urge that calls for the blood of everyone she cares about?
Will her memories ever return - and if they could, would she even want them back?
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Shifting 3rd party POV, Summary and tags to be updated later.
50~ chapters outlined in the greater fic - updates in multi-chapter chunks:
I decided this longfic is more digestible in sections.
Most of y’all already know the plot. I don’t deviate a lot up front, but it will by section 2.‘Bite Night’ is Chapter 7 <3 No hard feelings for jumping ahead :P
Series
- Part 1 of The Whimpering Dawn
Bookmarked by Eluneslights
05 Aug 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
An amazing story written by one of the more talented and wonderful people I know! I'm so lucky i got to see snippets a bit farther into this story and I am so excited to read more!