11 Works by matchatonic
Listing Works
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Fine Wine (you get better & better with time) by matchatonic
Fandoms: Baldur's Gate (Video Games)
28 May 2026
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“I think that means you lost.”
“On a technicality, really.” Astarion attempts to refute, but finds he starts going adrift in the way Gale looks so satisfied with himself, having bested the proprietor of taste and confidence. “How far off is a peach from a plum?”
“Pretty far, I reckon. And a loss is a loss.” Gale says, and sets down his cup in between them. “But all is not dashed so quickly, Astarion! Take comfort in the fact that this means you are permitted a chance to earn a new honorific.” When Astarion looks up at him in confusion, he quickly adds, “I am sure you are aware of the adage that hot people always tip well, are you not?”
Ah, well…who is he to dispute that?
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a modern sommelier au 🍷🖤 -
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A hand—then, hands—on him, his chest. Sam's hands. They are thankful, but still frail and tentative. Just as the bud of an upolín hopes to emerge from snow in the early months, but the rosette isn't strong enough to break through the cold.
This is it. This is our goodbye, Henry considers bleakly. This is him, going to God.
The thought alone is reverentially terrifying.
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samuel sustains a life-threatening injury, wrestles with reason, and kisses henry goodbye; henry stops the bleedingfor kcdrarepairsweek day 6: confession and whump
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"If you had to kill me, how would you do it? Call it, ah, professional curiosity."
When Blackstaff scholar Gale Dekarios gets lost in a storm, the elusive Lord Ancunín offers shelter. A dangerous game ensues.
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“We are not brothers. At least, not in the way that it matters. Not by blood,” Samuel stalls, hands folded; like he’s thinking, hard. A twitch of his lip quirks the ends of his moustache up at attention. "Not right now."
It’s captivating, for what it’s worth—the way he weighs his words, bordering on impulsivity.
“Do you agree?”
Sure—of course. But where is this going?
“No, we aren’t,” Henry validates, a gulp embedded in his sternum. Perish the thought. “But it sounds good to say—that we’ve known the same man, I mean.”
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“So is the Great Gale of Waterdeep admitting that he has a vampire fetish?”
He forces him a step backward with a strategic leg in between, hurried and fissured. The main objective is, of course, that they manage to inch ever closer towards the bed.
“I’ve been known to ah, carouse salaciously sanguine novelettes, if you will,” Gale blushes, then leans back in towards Astarion as if he can steal a kiss in between the points of his attempt at explanation. And he does. “But I’d like to think it indicates more of a, ah, attraction to a little bit of danger, if I’m being honest?”
Well. Quite.
“Oh, how felicitous it has been for you then—to find yourself in the company of the indubitable embodiment of your fiction fantasies, hmm?” He turns his index finger into a hook, then crooks it to skim along the curve of his collar; a sluice of a thing. “Does that make you my little monster-fucker?”
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post-game, (best) friends to lovers || 'danger kink' dekarios meets 'absolutely can't wait to fuck your thighs' ancunín -
making honey from my darkness; gold, from my disease by matchatonic
Fandoms: Nosferatu (2024)
18 Mar 2025
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“Do you desire me as much as I do?” Ellen says, in a lilt that is subtly not her own.
Intrusively, Anna gets stuck on the phrasing, because it is wholly unclear.
She may mean it as is most romantic—that she wants her, and all that she entails. And yet, there’s…something that gnaws, and says otherwise. That Ellen might be painting herself in the shadow of Narcissus—in her newfound virility that borders on virulence.
She speaks of loving herself, more than she does what is laid out in front of her. But Anna finds she doesn’t quite mind. Cannot argue, in fact.
Because Ellen is the most divine being that has ever brightened the shale of her dark, wandering thoughts.
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On a night where Friedrich is occupied and Thomas lost in the Carpathians, Ellen (who is not quite herself) approaches an obliging Anna with a proposition she cannot refuse🐀🖤🐀
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“You were so fucking close today, weren’t you? Don’t think I didn’t see it.” And the innuendo is not lost in any sort of irony, whispered into his ears as it is now. Astarion twists his wrist and lazily pumps himself with each syllable. Being as close as they are, water deflects off of him and onto Gale, aided by the angles and planes of his chest. “Just shy of grasping that personal best record, hmm—a stroke or two behind the finish line? How exhausting for you.”
But the embedded indignation softens then, held within a breath. He stops his ministrations—just holds him, squeezes. Says something innocent, as if Gale won’t hear him:
“My little star pupil.”
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an indoor cycling au, in which professor dekarios bites off more than he can chew at his local cycling studio, SoulCoin -
One Candle Lighting Up the Whole Room by matchatonic
Fandoms: Baldur's Gate (Video Games)
08 Sep 2024
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Summary
There’s a sound of something crinkling, then—and the indisputable noise of aggregate indecision. With haste, he carelessly drops the handful of wrapped items from his shopping at his feet and attempts to listen closer…conscientiously…
Then a wavering little light emerges from the din—the smallest dancing blue flame, unmistakably conjured by a muttered incantation. Astarion gasps in the face of its formidable flare, faltering seconds behind before he finds the mind to reach for the sheathed dagger he keeps strapped to his person—a hold-over from their wild adventures afield, he supposes.
Is that–? No…That’s not–?
It can’t possibly be, for it wouldn’t make sense for it to be Gale. Why would he obscure himself in such a manner, unless he’s keen on playing some daedal prank on him…or if he were being held against his will, or–?
What follows next is perhaps the biggest shock of Astarion’s life:
“SURPRISE~!”
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An ode to a 'first' birthday of sorts, and the reframing of what no longer serves 🎂♥️Written for the Bloodweave Week 2024 Day 1 Prompt: "Firsts"
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A week in Waterdeep for the Feast Day holiday break permits Gale and Astarion the time and space to recognize all that they’ve been missing out on with each other…of course, those revelations never come out conventionally, do they?
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Clarity’s a devilish thing, he realizes. It took fucking up the one good thing he has going for him to come to terms with that, unfortunately. Now, he’s haunted not just by what he gleaned directly from Gale himself, but by the knowledge that if only they were both a bit more intrepid, they could have been seeking warmth in each other’s arms much, much earlier. But the manner by which these secrets were revealed—and his reflexive reaction after the fact—has poisoned it, crushed by the shame of his own hedonistic appetite.And to think it all began with a bite.
Series
- Part 3 of Academic Love Languages
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With so many tumultuous things going on in his life, Gale realizes he’s slacked on his campus community service hours – good thing Astarion’s Trial Advocacy class is looking for volunteer jury members :)
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“Have you all reached a verdict?” Astarion recites the formality of the question with honeyed chagrin, addressed to the collective jury.Gale wills himself to stand, trembling slightly as he feels all eyes boring into him. “We have, your Honor.”
Astarion’s gaze immediately locks on to Gale. His cocked eyebrow expresses his disbelief at seeing him as the foreperson, but he looks more than pleased by it. The grin that sweeps across his face might very well be Gale’s ruin, if he’s being honest.
He looks like he wants to eat him…and he'd let him.
Series
- Part 2 of Academic Love Languages
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Summary
Law Professor Astarion Ancunín enlists Gale Dekarios, Doctor of Magic and Arcane History, for a bit of help translating a boring book he needs to have read like, yesterday. Can he find a way to stay on task and totally not get distracted by Gale's luscious locks?
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It takes just a moment—a blink and you miss it sort of movement—for Gale to grasp his own shaggy hair between a soft fist and twist it up and over a few times. He holds this twist against the back of his skull. Some strands are too short, and fall forward again, but this haphazard result is evidently good enough for Gale, as he doesn't smooth them out. With the hand that holds the clip, he carefully opens it with ease. The claw comes up and snaps shut, leaving Gale’s hair properly pulled back and away. He resumes his intent work over the script beneath...
Astarion’s standing there beside him, in the Special Collections of the library on the campus where they both fucking teach, and all he can think about is how badly he wants him.Series
- Part 1 of Academic Love Languages