FancyGecko
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Summary
After two centuries of torment, Astarion has given up hope of escaping Cazador's clutches, until a chance encounter with a stolen book introduces him to the disembodied voice of a wizard named Gale of Waterdeep. With the fate of Baldur's Gate in the balance, they must confront their demons and win their freedom - together.
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Gale, once the esteemed Archmage of Waterdeep and now the self-appointed Grand Collector of Magical Misalignments, finds himself stranded in an unfamiliar land with a ragtag group of liars, cutthroats, and aliens. While he manages to rekindle his long-neglected skills in building friendships with most of them, it's painfully apparent that the vampire harbours a profound dislike for him. Given his recent streak of misfortune, it's no surprise that fate dictates learning more about the volatile orb lodged in Gale's chest requires Astarion's begrudging cooperation.
Astarion, for his part, is simply trying to survive.
Thus begins a journey marked by personal evolution, confronting inner and not-so-inner demons and embracing self-compassion—not necessarily in that order.
Oh yes, and they also need to save the world.
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Or the one with over 200k worth of slow-burn dumbassery.May 2026: Re-editing certain parts a little more. No changes to the content, only some rewording and grammar fixes for a smoother reading experience. I’ll mark here when finished.
Series
- Part 1 of I’d Burn Through the World
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snare by parsnipit
Fandoms: Baldur's Gate (Video Games), Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
02 Jan 2024
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The darkness in the kennel is thick, suffocating. It reeks of rat piss and molding hay. Every instinct screams danger, though Halsin cannot yet make out what hunts him. His darkvision does not pierce the deepest corners, but he knows—oh, he knows—
There’s something hungry here.
After saving the world, Tav turns their attention to dismantling Cazador Szarr. But what they discover in the bowels of the Szarr palace is far more than a single corrupt noble.
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He’s almost looking forward to either falling from the top of the Netherbrain into the River Chionthar, or watching it fall from a safe distance. It’ll be over, then! It’ll be done. He can go hide in the dark, forget this ever happened twice. Astarion can forget Tav. He can move on. Learn to love the dark again, or something.
Astarion wakes up in a pod on the Nautiloid.
(COMPLETE! <3)
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Like instinct, Astarion finds the vein in Filraen’s wrist that connects his fingers all the way to his heart. The moment his fangs sink into the Drow’s skin, blood pools into his mouth, and Astarion feels like a man drinking water for the first time in weeks.
He sucks and pulls, lapping at every drop with his tongue to make sure none goes to waste. Filraen’s blood tastes syrupy sweet tonight from the mead, thick and warm as it works its way down his throat. It’s addicting in more ways than one—the taste is divine, but something more primal pools in the lower parts of Astarion’s stomach. The kind that makes him want to bare his fangs at anyone who dares get too close to his Drow, that might try and take this away from him.
There’s a careful hand touching the base of his skull, pulling Astarion from his degenerating thoughts at the perfect moment. The long fingers slip up the back of his scalp and thread into his wavy hair like a soft caress. It’s comforting, has Astarion sighing wistfully into Filraen’s wrist.
---Or, come read about a sad bard and a sadder vampire falling in love.