This is what I do when I'm bored...I'm bored a lot.
I have an independent Star Trek RP blog for Christine Chapel.
ltchristinechapel.tumblr.com
Discord at:
chapel-to-uss-enterprise#1170
For decades, this manor offered him a place to call home in the truest sense.
The hallway was a sacred gallery, adorned with paintings that were not mere canvases, but tangible echoes of their life together. Each brushstroke, lovingly rendered by her hand, captured the essence of cherished memories.
Whenever he opened the door at the end of the hallway, he was greeted by the radiant smile of his beloved, and the hearth beckoned him to surrender to its comforting embrace. Yet, it was the vast window next to it that held the greatest significance. The tender caress of sunlight danced across his skin as he lost himself in the pages of a book beside her. It was here, bathed in the golden rays, that he could truly revel in the miracle she had bestowed upon him – the cure to his vampiric curse, a gift of life, a reminder of the depths of her love and the power it held to transcend even the most insurmountable of boundaries.
Here at home, he had found everything his heart desired.
But nothing is ever truly perfect. Life simply doesn't work that way. Even the mightiest of fortresses cannot withstand the relentless march of time.
He thought he was ready for it, but not like this.
Never like this.
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The poem cited is "When You Are Old" BY W.B. Yeats. One of my favorites.❤️
Alright, thanks for reading the second installment of my "this did not really happen to my couple". After delving into the mortality of my Tav, Amaara, I found myself confronting a fear more profound than death itself – the fear of morbidity, of life's vibrancy fading before its inevitable end. So I decided to yank my CP around this theme. Self-indulgence at its finest.😊
Ever since a discussion about the mortality of my human Tav with my fellow Tavs on Tumblr, the idea has become an intrusive thought🤣. I couldn't shake it from my mind, so I decided to confront it. I chose to explore the worst-case scenario.
Astarion X F!Tav, warning, character death.
Oh my gosh, I couldn't think about anything else! But now I feel better =) The lyrics are from the song "Let Me Down Slowly" by Alec Benjamin, which seems to be popping up everywhere for me recently! It was meant to be.
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The rain poured down in relentless sheets, obscuring the old gothic manor in a heavy gray veil. Inside, the candles flickered softly as Astarion combed his fingers gently through Amaara's hair. Her skin was pale and cold under his touch, she had passed in her sleep, her life of many decades finally at its end.
Astarion dressed her in finery befitting his princess, never taking his eyes from her still face. He lifted her fragile body, holding her close to his silent heart, and carried her through the corridors of their home, the echo of his steps filling the emptiness left behind.
Down into the secret crypt below he took her. The chamber was illuminated by candles that cast dancing shadows on the stone walls. He lay her gently in an ornate double coffin, positioning her with care one last time. His vision blurred as tears threatened to spill out at the thought of an eternity without her laughter to drive away the dark.
So soon...too soon...
A dry, wrecked sob clawed up his throat as he stretched his lean body beside hers inside the casket. He turned to face her, drinking in every beloved feature - the graceful arch of her brow, the gentle slope of her nose. With infinite tenderness, he ran the back of his hand against the line of her jaw, tracing its elegant curve.
He threaded his long, pale fingers into her thinned silver hair, soft strands pooling like mercury in his palm. He cradled the nape of her neck, his thumb caressing the tender skin behind her ear just the way she always loved. Each gesture was etched with reverence and sorrow, communicating wordlessly all the affection and devotion that overflowed from his shattered heart.
In the muted candlelight, she could have been merely sleeping, poised on the cusp of awakening. But her skin was growing colder under his touch with each moment, the last of her warmth fleeing to merge with the eternal night. Soon all that would remain of his beating heart would be a decomposing shell. The anguished realization tore through him anew, and he released a thin, keening cry like a creature skewered through the soul.
At last, Astarion forced his quivering fingers to release her. With agonizing restraint, he gently smoothed back a few errant strands of her pale hair, arranging them flawlessly across the plush satin pillow.
He shifted slowly onto his back beside her. Reaching up with a leaden arm, he grasped the ornately carved lid of the casket. As he gradually pulled the heavy cover down, shadow crept over their forms. Her alabaster features were swallowed up inch by inch in the hungry darkness.
With a muffled thud that reverberated through his entire spirit, the cover closed completely. The chamber became at once a bridal suite and a tomb, its occupants trapped by cruel fate.
Astarion shuddered in the darkness. The familiar confines of a coffin, once a hellish prison, now served as his refuge from the fresh anguish threatening to consume him.
When Cazador had buried him years ago, the crushing isolation and helplessness nearly shattered Astarion’s sanity. But here, cocooned with his lost beloved, the cold casket took on the bittersweet air of a marriage bed on their final night together. He welcomed the isolation, sought solace in it. Here he could muffle the bleeding, gaping wound in his soul with the old, healed over scars of past trauma. By wrapping himself in familiar pain, its sharp sting would numb the fresh, unendurable agony of Amaara’s absence.
In this chamber of death, Astarion found his only chance for even transient peace. Here he could hold the cruelties of time and fate at bay, if only for a few decades of dreamless slumber next to his beloved. Here he could forget, could almost pretend the sweet burden in his arms still drew breath... before mere memory of her touch faded like everything else into the hungry dark.
I haven’t seen anyone post about the epilogue you get if you romance Gale and he sacrifices himself at the final battle. I did this for science, but I didn’t expect how much it would wreck me 😭
He likes taking pictures of you doing the most mundane things, they're very important to him
Has surprisingly heavy footsteps, the only time they're light is when he's out hunting
Please get him to ramble about his interests or his latest "job", he'll go on for hours at a time
Always makes you coffee/tea in the morning, he likes to spend his morning either sitting across from you or leaning on the counter while you both enjoy your cups
Cooks for you almost every night, and thinks it's fun when you join him in the kitchen, even if you're just a taste-tester
He has asthma so expect early-morning wheezing mixed in with some light snores
Also, expect his limbs to be taking up as much space in the bed as possible, he may start out being the big spoon but he will be a starfish about an hour into sleeping
Can't stay in one place too long for... obvious reasons. Be prepared to pack up and move at a moment's notice
Sometimes forgets to eat, especially after a chase/hunt, he usually comes home, cleans his clothes and knife, and goes straight to bed
He fidgets with his pens a lot, either spinning them, tapping them on his desk, or chewing the caps while thinking, gotta keep his mind busy
If he's not wearing his gear he's wearing comfy clothes, usually sweatpants and a t-shirt if he knows you won't be going anywhere
Follows you if you're going out, not only to scout for more victims but to keep you safe as well
NSFW:
He likes being in his "hunting gear", especially if you let him keep the mask and voice-changer on
Has a lot of stamina, but changes pace often
He loves teasing you, pushing you to your limit and ten times over it is music to his ears
Voyeurism!!! He likes to toy with you like anyone else Ghostface comes across, just in a different way
Expect a lot of phone sex with that too, he has the perfect hiding places mapped out before you two ever move into a new place purely for this reason
Praises you the whole time, sometimes without even thinking
Marks you everywhere he can reach. He wants people to know you're owned, just not by who ;)
Wears his best cologne/perfume so you smell like him
Say his name, the louder you are the bigger his ego gets
Very much willing to try anything, just beg tell him what you want and he'll make it happen
Ready anytime and anywhere, put your hand on his back and he'll have you pinned to the nearest wall in a second
Speaking of, he's very vocal, Danny has a comment for pretty much everything, so if you want to shut him up you have to either never stop kissing him or find something to shove in his mouth
Loves using his knife on you. He won't be too rough of course, and will back off if it's too much, but not without a few hearts lightly drawn on your skin <3
the most heartbreaking thing about gale's romance is how he keeps trying to offer tav a "better" version of himself. like sure, you love him, but don't you want a better him? he can woo you, but don't want him to wow you? he is at your side as a great wizard, but don't want him to be at your side with the power of a god? are you sure you want to renounce to all of that? are you sure?
and if tav says yes, he is wanted already as he is, he is already all he needs to be...he just says I hope you are right. I don't wanna lose you
I'm sure we didn't get Tara to our camp in Tav's playthrough because then we would have gotten this dialogue every time we tried to invite Gale to join our party
Halsin being very mindful of Astarion's "don't touch me"
Mindful enough that Astarion catches on to how deliberately he doesn't touch him. How even when Astarion has been downed in a fight, and Halsin has no time or ability to ask, he still says "I'm going to pick you up" before he does, or, "I need to lay hands on your wound to heal it"
So Astarion decides to fuck with him. Because he can. This is a man who was paying attention, who wanted to be so very respectful that Astarion can't help but turn it into a game, see how far he can push the druid.
Sitting too close, with no contact. Standing a little too close. Leaning over the large man's shoulder with his whole body to stare too-close at what he is whittling. It's easy to do, Astarion is a master of dextrous movement and seductive poses.
The first thing he learns is that Halsin is incredibly easy to get a reaction out of. "Heart on his sleeve" barely begins to cover it, the large druids heart rate picks up easily, he flushes, he telegraphs his responses with honest expressions. And yet still, he doesn't fall for the bait.
So Astarion starts touching him. Very, very innocently. Tugging at a loose thread on his shirt, flicking a leaf out of the druids hair. It's all fun and games, he thinks, with a goal of... With a goal of...
And one night, somehow, he's in Halsins' arms, warm and safe and listening to the sound of the big mans heartbeat thudding steadily while the fire burns low outside of his tent and he has no idea how he got here, but the game seems to have ended, somewhere along the way.
