Avviii
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Astarion has been the Moon for centuries, watching over the land.
He watches as the scholar who lives upon the hill, observing the night sky, is spurned by the Goddess of Mysteries.A Goddess can break a human’s heart, can another God heal it?
Bookmarked by Avviii
11 Feb 2026
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There's Gold Under the Rust, Figuring Out Just How to Live by SilverSeptember
Fandoms: Baldur's Gate (Video Games)
31 Jan 2026
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“How did you know I was here?” Gale asked, confused.
“My dear wizard, I saw Tav return to camp alone and knew that a bad decision had been made. Forgive me for my curiosity, but I just had to see what caused it,” Astarion spoke as he examined his fingernails nonchalantly, obviously not feeling sorry about anything.
“I did not realize that my intentions were so transparent,” he mumbled, looking away from the vampire.
“Darling, I never said the bad decision was yours."
Series
- Part 1 of Do You Know I Love You So?
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02 Feb 2026
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Hopelessly lost in a rainstorm, Gale happens upon a beautiful country mansion. Hoping to find help making his way back to his car he finds himself enraptured by the hospitable homeowner.
Memento Vivere - Remember to live
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21 Sep 2025
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He could have said no. Refused to aid in the ritual that screamed its profound wickedness.
Instead he bargained his lover's soul for safety. Doomed him to bear the burden of seven thousand lives made hells fodder. Passed him the mantle of master, monster. An act of profound selfishness wrapped in a promise of power. A promise his pitiful, mortal body proves he failed to keep.
Perhaps Astarion finally understands that.
Perhaps he finally hates him for it.
The night Gale changes from dark consort to vampiric bride, and what a relief it is. For day 1 of Bloodweave Week 2025 - Post-Canon & Sunrise
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Bookmarked by Avviii
13 Sep 2025
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"When they made camp, Astarion had set up his newly-looted tent and sat down on a tree stump, wrapping his arms around one leg so that he could rest his chin on his knee. He made it look like he was participating in their scattered conversations around the campfire—scoffed when the others did, nodded at regular intervals, furrowed his brow when a voice rose in question—but his eyes were fixed and glazed.
Gale knew this routine well. He knew it especially from when he’d fallen into a nervous depression eighteen months after Mystra had taken him under her wing and lost all ability to eat. He’d spent hours listening to his colleagues debate, pretending to engage while his mind floated away in a gnawing fog of exhaustion and lack."
Bookmarked by Avviii
01 Oct 2024