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darcydarlingdabbles · 4 months

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You are Safe - Deepest Desires

//One shot of Deepest Desires - Astarion Drabble. Very fluffy/comforting smut with many feelings. Not edited... Song Rec: Light by Sleeping at Last//

Explicit, Astarion x f!Tav, post cannon, 2.2k

cw: coping with sex/intimacy issues & allusions to Astarion's past

Astarion Ancunin was a sight to behold in any light.

The moon might make him look like some ethereally wicked beauty, but Tav much preferred the golden glow they were bathed in now.

She sank into the plush leather sofa near the crackling hearth, cradling a cup of mulled wine. The spiced aroma chased away the chill of the night fallen outside the inn as her eyes drew lazily over the trophies adoring the walls—swords, shields, mounted heads of beasts. Theirs was just another story to add to the collection.

Tav might be warmer still, without the vampire stretched out languidly beside her, but she would not give up the comfort of his closeness for the world.

“You know, I still don’t like being the hero. It is beyond tedium. ”

Astarion mused over the rim of his cup, as if he could detect her thoughts and had to refute them.

“That so? You play the part so well.” Tav quipped back lovingly.

“Well, I suppose I do enjoy all of the fawning adulation.” Astarion mused. “And the gold, of course.”

Tav shook her head fondly. She’d let him maintain the charade as long as he liked; she had already seen under the mask. He sent a smirk her way, his ruby eyes glinting with the firelight. Distracting her from the way he was balancing his goblet on its very edge, one of his dexterous fingers on lip of the drink, tilting further and further as if he dared the wine inside to spill.

Or he was simply teasing Tav with the threat of it.

“Beggin’ your pardon,” The inn keeper, a matronly half-orc with a smile around her tusks approached them. “Finest room we have is ready for ya, token of our gratitude for dealin’ with our Worg problem.”

“Thank you, Gerda, that’s too kind of you.” Tav said graciously. “We’re happy we could help.”

She shot her companion a glance, but he was intently finishing his wine with only a raise of his eyebrows.

She felt Astarion’s eyes on her as she conversed cordially with the inn keeper, his gaze as tangible as a caress along her cheek. Tav knew the warmth of that look. Little flickering moments of unguarded affection more sincere than any pretty picture his words could paint.

The only recognition Tav gave was the smile at the corner of her lips. Because that was the game they played. Sparing his pride until the rest of the world faded away.

This. This was everything she fought for. These quiet nights brighter than any flames.

…

Soon they retreated to the comfort of their room after a long day. Astarion led her up the stairs, silently twining their fingers together. Tav knew it was another gesture she wasn’t supposed to linger on, but if he kept this up, the dam would burst sooner rather than later.

He pushed the door to their chambers open with an overly theatrical flourish. “Not quite fit for a king…but I suppose it will do.”

Tav rolled her eyes, stepping past him to take in a very comfortable room that was downright luxurious in its details. Plush carpet, dark wood walls, and a canopied bed piled with silken sheets and pillows.

“After sleeping in bedrools on the hard ground,” Tav put her hands on her hips, a smile on her lips with her tone placating him. “I think it will suffice.”

Astarion came up behind her then, his cool breath ghosting over her ear as he murmured. “Then it is a shame you will not have the time to admire the finer details.”

In the second of warning he gave, Tav knew well he could hear every uptick of her heart.

Astarion had her spun around, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss. Tav’s back hit the wall with a soft thud, her lover’s lithe body pinning her in place as he lifted their still entwined hands above her head.

Those clever fingers hand already snuck under the hem of her tunic, drawing lines over the swell of her hip.

“I have all that I need to admire.” Tav arched to the touch with a sigh as she finally exhaled.

“Such flattery.” Astarion’s smirk was downright sinful, sending heat and want curling through her. Those ruby eyes glinted bright in the soft firelight of the room.

Soon, their packs were dropped to the side, shedding the last trappings of battle with the armor and gore already tucked away. Leaving no more barriors between them as passion sparked in the scant space between them. His nibble fingers made quick work of the laces of her tunic, the fabric falling away to expose her collarbones, and her chest.

Tav lifted her chin, playfully offering her neck, knowing how it thrilled him though he would not bite—not just yet. But Astarion would duck his head to draw his teeth teasingly along the colomn of her throat.

She peered over his white curls. “My love, the door is still—” A sharp kick shut the door, and its lever lock clicked into place. “Thank you.”

Astarion’s scoff tingled against her pulse point. He was far more preoccupied with mapping out the newly exposed skin, like it hadn’t been under his lips a thousand times. As if he wasn’t intimately familiar and once again confident with his ability to drive her mad. As if she didn’t know him just as well.

When he pulled back to rid her of her pesky tunic, she used her chance. Tav’s fingers slid into his silky curls, just brushing her thumbs over the tips of his pointed ears.

That got his attention.

Astarion made a low, pleased sound in the back of his throat, finding her mouth again.

The kisses grew more urgent as Astarion pressed Tav back against the wood-paneled wall, her arms around his shoulders as he used his thigh to part hers.

Easy as could be, like they were dancing together again. Tav took his lead, her leg hooked around his waist before he had to reach for her. Their bodies were brought flush together--letting her feel the hard press of his arousal.

“It would be a shame,” Tav murmured against the vampire’s lips. “Not to make use of the bed, don’t you think? I know how much you do enjoy fine linens.”

Astarion laughed, the sound decadent yet playful. “My darling, the only thing more appealing than being wrapped up in silk, is being wrapped up in you.”

Heat flooded into her cheeks, just like he knew it would. Even now, his lines always worked on her.

Tav reached for the hem of Astarion’s shirt, ridding him of it and letting it join her tunic on the floor. He was already walking her back towards the bed—but it just wasn’t enough to map out the planes of his chest with her fingers, hooking into the waist of his breaches.

“Can I?” Tav lifted her eyes, her mouth already watering.

“You hardly have to ask.” He purred, pecking her lips just once more. “But…I’m glad that you did.”

She always would. Sometimes to his annoyance, but the vampire seemed more than in the mood to humor her sweetness tonight. Astarion freed his cock from his breeches as he sat back on the bed, stroking himself languidly, watching her with bright ruby eyes as she eagerly sank to her knees.

He was so damn gorgeous like this, confident in seeking his pleasure, knowing Tav was more than willing to give.

Her hand curled around his, before she was drawing the tip of him between her lips. She adored the sweet, strangled sound he gave as he relenquished his hold to her, those deft fingers threading into her hair as she swallowed him down.

Tav loved him like this. Loved that she was the one who got to see Astarion this way—wanting and vulnerable and utterly hers.

She poured every ounce of devotion into the slide of her mouth, wanting him to shatter from it. For all pretense to fall away like the filthy praise faltering from his lips, and let her catch him when he fell.

Astarion tensed under her, the muscles in his thighs and the hand in her hair gone ridgid.

Tav pulled back, her eyes seeking his, looking for the glassy sheen to cover his red irises or the distance in his gaze. “You can let go, love.” lacing the reassurance his ego sometimes spurned in a seductive purr. “I want you to.”

Astarion’s scoff was breathier than he intended, she could see it on his face, but the hand in her hair curled around her chin, capturing her jaw as he bent to claim her lips.

“As tempting as that mouth of yours may be…I’d much rather be inside you.”

Her pulse quickened under his hold.

Tav was on her feet, ridding herself of any thing that could get between them. Before straddling Astarion’s lap. Reveling in his groan as he tasted himself on her tongue.

Those damned fingers of his were already delving between her soaked folds, thumbing her clit so perfectly it was maddening in an instant.

“Astarion, please…” Tav breathed against his mouth.

“I know darling.” His grin nipped at her lower lip, fingers sliding into her and curling just so. “No one knows you as I do.”

He was distracting her, and he was so very, very good at it. Tav rocked needily into him, pleasure sparking up her spine. Her fingers clutched into the fine curls at the back of his neck. Trying to ground herself to meet his burning gaze.

“No one loves you as I do.”

Something beautifully yearning moved across his face. The ghost of a longing to be known—and to still be loved. It was all he could never bring himself to ask for, and yet she gave it, freely, whenever she thought he may need it.

The next meeting of their lips was filled with nothing but tenderness, even as he pulled her closer still, breaking only as he filled her completely.

Astarion’s grip tightened on her hips, and Tav understood.

She let him bear her back onto the plush bed, surrendering to his need for control. Her hands fell back to either side of the pillow, as she searched the ethereal beauty of his face above her, assuring herself that he wasn’t lost to the old shadows.

Clear crimson eyes gazed back at her, their only darkness that of desire.

Satisfied, Tav wrapped her legs around Astarion’s waist, urging him deeper inside her. He obliged her with a precise roll of his hips that nearly had stars bursting behind her eyelids.

“That’s it, my love.” Astarion purred, his breath played over her lips as his body moved with hers, sweet and aching, their fingers wound together even as he kept her wrists pinned.

Tav could feel the edge of her bliss tugging at her, the way she clenched desperately around his cock, it was so damn close—

Astarion shuddered above her, tensing on instinct, resisting that final surrender, even now. His old wounds would never go fully away, but she could soothe them when they surfaced. Because she knew him.

“Let go, my love, I have you.”

He did, spilling into her with a choked cry, his hips snapping hard and fast into hers, sending pleasure that arched up her spine until it overwhelmed her.

Spent, still tangled together, collapsed together.

Astarion’s cool skin was a balm against her heated body, when he finally released her hands. Tav’s arms wrapped around him, feeling the faintest of trembling in the raw moments after. He hid his face crook of her shoulder, letting her fingers slide through his curls.

Tav shifted only enough to bare her throat to him, remembering how he teased that she tasted better shortly after their coupling.

Far from a distraction, it was a gesture of the intimate trsut they shared. Astarion only hesitated a moment, before sharp fangs pierced her skin, and Tav relaxed into the familiar heat and sting.

He drank from her, lost in the bliss of her blood. Comforted by the familiarity of it.

When the vampire pulled back, a trickle of red dripped from his grin, and Tav swiped it away with her thumb.

Astarion turned his face into her touch, a kiss pressed into her palm. Before he gathered her into his arms for the rest of the night.

…

Golden sunlight crept across the room as dark became day.

Astarion stayed with his head tucked under Tav’s chin, her heart beat a comforting rhythm against his ear. He stirred only as the warm glow softened his sharp features, and she finally gave in to the urge to trace the contours of his face.

Astarion’s eyes fluttered open, immediately seeking hers. A lazy smirk tugged at his lips as he lifted a hand to caress her cheek in turn, the warmth of the Ring of Daylight around his fourth finger a delicious contrast to his cool skin.

“Looking for a cuddle?” he asked, his tone playful yet tender, echoing their first morning together.

Tav laughed softly, leaning into his touch. “Always,” she replied, her heart swelling with love for this man who had come so far, who had learned to trust and to love despite everything he’d endured.

Their fingers intertwined with the comforting sound of his ring meeting hers. Warmed by the golden light forevermore.

#astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #Astarion smut #Astarion fluf #tav #astarion x reader #bg3 fic #astarion ancunin #astarion x female tav #astarion x reader fluff #astarion x female reader

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agentarc · 1 month

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fox headcanons for the fic i might actually try to write

this is copy-pasted from notes app so the formatting is gonna be weird

fox autism and mental health HCs

- difficulty understanding his own emotions. he can’t describe what he’s feeling. if asked to elaborate, he might describe things ineloquently, or using metaphors

- sometimes struggles to understand other people’s emotions. he’s not very in tune with his own, and he finds it hard to relate to others in general. it’s easier with clones, but for natborns it’s a lost cause.

- afraid of Feeling His Feelings. he’s always staving off a mental breakdown, and thus can’t afford to Feel and have the dam break, because if he has a breakdown he Will Die. (he doesn’t know anything about panic attacks or meltdowns — he just thinks he’s defective. since he can’t afford to be anything less than perfect, he has taken every measure possible to keep the breakdowns behind the dam.)

- his facial expressions don’t always match the emotion he’s feeling

- doesn’t know how to show love and affection in a “normal” way. his way of loving is to keep everyone safe and healthy, even at the expense of himself, and even at the expense of others outside of his family.

- touch-adverse and touch-starved at the same time. (he’s afraid of touching people in part because he worries he’ll corrupt them with his wrongness)

- pressure and dark, enclosed spaces are very comforting

- stimming habit. he thinks it’s unbecoming (and so did his trainers as a cadet) and thus has tried to train it out of himself, but he still falls back on certain low-key stimming habits when he’s focused or not paying attention to himself.

- control freak

- meticulously tidy, though his own hygiene is lacking

- forgets / doesn’t know how to take care of himself

- food-adverse. can only tolerate one variety of ration bars and they’re not always available. he survives off forced bites and caf. (potential to explore other types of food? ration bars are safe and familiar, but we might explore other safe foods after the war is over…)

- dissociation — sometimes he doesn’t feel real and he doesn’t know how to articulate that. it feels wrong in every way, but it keeps the paralyzing breakdowns at bay so he has started using it as a coping mechanism. he feels like he’s on autopilot, like he’s making these decisions from a faraway place and isn’t quite tethered to his body. if he has to appear normal while actively panicking, he’s probably dissociated to some extent, not allowing himself to come to terms with the reality of whatever’s going on, allowing autopilot to take over. (he doesn’t like to think about it, and might spiral if forced to address it)

- strange relationship to pain. it makes sense to him, and he finds it grounding. it can tether him when he’s dissociating. not only is it the body’s natural way of saying it’s injured, but it can also be a befitting consequence or punishment, which he genuinely thinks he deserves. (he knows this applies to him and him only — he’s always been different from other clones) (maybe he has a deep scar somewhere accessible with his armor on, and pressing on it causes pain or numbness. wrist? palm? maybe one if his habits is repeatedly clenching his fist in a way that presses on it)

- self-mutilation, like knuckle biting, skin picking, digging his fingernails into his arm, exacerbating existing injuries

- he feels like a droid, or like he wishes he was a droid. he knows he’s not, but sometimes thinks it would be easier to maintain his body. during dissociation or breakdowns, he might use pain or blood to remind him that he’s still human

- compulsion to *fix*. he is always there for his brothers, not only because it’s his duty as commander and as ori’vod, but because his brothers are the most important thing in the world to him. without his purpose as his brothers’ keeper, he has zero self-worth. when things start getting harder, he will have more trouble coming up with the solution and it will seriously upset him. he will also get confused and frustrated when his vode don’t come to him with their issues — he’ll believe it’s because he’s a failure of an ori’vod. later, after the collapse, he will be so burnt out that anyone having any expectation of him at all will be triggering. (or maybe the opposite is true — not having orders or a direction leaves him floundering and he will spiral and spiral. could be that both are true, that he needs orders or a job or something, but anything outside the scope of his ability or mental capacity will cause a stress breakdown)

- trust issues. he can’t be vulnerable with pretty much anyone at all — at least he won’t if he can help it — and will never be fully relaxed in the company of people he doesn’t explicitly know and trust.

- paranoid. every single thing out of place is a threat.

- hates crowds

- hates people looking at him without his armor on. he always feels exposed and vulnerable, and he’s ashamed of all the scars he has. since his job is supposed to be “the easiest of the entire GAR,” he thinks there’s no excuse to be so scarred, and the only reason he would be is because he can’t defend himself adequately. plus, if he’s asked about his scars, it’s not really easy to explain that they’re from the red guard beating the shit out of him for fun

- hates the sonics because of the sound, and also because of the freshers’ communal nature. he will only shower at odd hours, and usually has one of the other commanders guard the door.

personality HCs

- as a cadet, and at the beginning of the war, fox was a cunning trickster and full of chaos. he becomes quieter and more worn down as the war continues.

- he loves mischief and fun, but at this point in his life has forgotten how to have fun. when he was a cadet, his slyness and cunning made him the perfect prankster. if he ever went too far and hurt or offended someone, cody would step in and tell fox to apologize, which fox does. he’s never meant to hurt anyone with his tricks.

- he doesn’t necessarily tell jokes, but his dry wit and sarcasm and his darker sense of humor makes him pretty funny sometimes

- although he would never admit it, he absolutely loves being surrounded by his brothers while they’re having a good time. he rarely joins in on the fun, bogged down by stress and illness, but wishes he could. regardless, he loves to soak up the good vibes, and his brothers laughing and happy is one of the only things that makes his heart soar.

- chronically tired

- chronically freezing cold

- chronically stressed tf out. he’s been under so much stress for so long that he’s been permanently shaped by it.

- outwardly, he’s all cold durasteel walls and ruthless determination. he’s meticulously neat, always demonstrating perfect form, his armor polished to a shine. an unstoppable force who will overcome any immovable object. he’s capable of making the hard choices and doing whatever it takes. anyone who doesn’t know him well enough will assume that he’s an uptight, hard-ass, self-righteous jerk who cares only about orders and duty, even at the expense of brothers. because of this, he’s not a popular or well-liked clone. (this bothers him a lot more than he lets on.)

- in reality, the safety and wellbeing of ALL brothers is his highest priority. he’s most loyal to those in his circle, and because of the position he’s in, it can appear as though he doesn’t care about anyone else.

- fox loves and cares so deeply that it IS the core of who he is. everything he does is for his family, even if his actions seem at odds with that.

- he trusts seldomly, but deeply. he is not relaxed with anyone he doesn’t trust, and sometimes STILL isn’t trusting enough to relax.

- he’s affectionate in his own way, which is to say non-traditionally. his way of taking care of people is to make sure everyone’s taken care of, taking care of themselves, and following rules. with certain vode, he may offer touch as comfort.

- has a very impressive sabacc face, although he’s pretty much always panicking over something. if he’s actively panicking but has to appear normal, he will most likely be dissociated to some extent.

- when in commander mode, he looks calm and collected, with an appropriate amount of urgency. he’s quick-thinking, cunning and clever, sharp-tongued and decisive, and in complete control. if he’s having a particularly rough time, anyone who doesn’t know him well enough wouldn’t be able to tell. closer vode can pick up on his subtle tells.

- a low-key stressed but relaxing fox is very subdued. small grins, wisecracks and one-liners, snickering along, but on the quiet side.

- a truly happy fox throws his head back when he laughs and smiles with all his teeth. his eyes are bright and sharp and full of mischief. he’s much more willing to initiate physical contact, and even grab a brother to wrestle playfully.

- when he’s having a rough one, he’s barbed and unreachable. he says nasty things and never means them, wanting to push others away.

- he’s always busy. he always has an insurmountable workload. when too overwhelmed, he will shut down, become paralyzed and be unable to complete anything at all, triggering a meltdown.

- a truly relaxed fox is boneless. for once in his life, he’s not on the move.

- under different circumstances, a happy fox would be nearly as busy as he is at this point, but on his own terms instead. he’d be doing stuff with his hands, filling his time with jobs and projects.

- allergic to downtime. he always has to be busy. if something needs to be done, he will be unable to relax until it’s done. if there’s nothing to do, he will either create more work for himself or start spiraling.

#commander fox #commander fox fanfiction #coruscant guard #jackwords #jackfic

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magewritesstories · 7 months

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ɪɴꜱᴛᴀɢʀᴀᴍ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴅᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴘᴇᴛᴇʀ ᴘᴀʀᴋᴇʀ

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thereal.y.n. gotta love a midnight coffee run (these eyebags are prada)

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→ mystery.jones and then you fall asleep halfway through the lecture → thereal.y.n. hehehehehe

→ TheGuyInTheChair whos that next to u??? → thereal.y.n. that's secret i'll never tell, xoxo gossip girl

Liked by _peter_parker_ and 107 others

thereal.y.n. fml i hate finals season

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→ TheGuyInTheChair i feel like we did some good studying today tho → thereal.y.n. were def einstein's in the making

→ the_amazing_flash you guys are such nerds → mystery.jones literally why do you still follow us dude? → thereal.y.n. he's just a fan @mystery.jones

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thereal.y.n. movie dates are 🔛🔝 @_peter_parker_ agrees

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→ TheGuyInTheChair excuse me????? brb imma go interrogate peter → _peter_parker_ please dont kill me

→ mystery.jones. cool. which movie did you see → thereal.y.n. dam whats with the dry reaction i thought we were friends T^T (it was hunger games btw) → mystery.jones. you and @_peter_parker_ are horrible secret keepers

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thereal.y.n. you dont know pain until youve third wheeled on a hang-out with your own boyfriend

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→ TheGuyInTheChair dont act like you didnt know what you were getting into → thereal.y.n. true true

→ mystery.jones ditch them and come hangout with me → TheGuyInTheChair rude. → thereal.y.n. your the love of my life fr fr → mystery.jones you're* → thereal.y.n. i take it back → _peter_parker_ i can really feel the love you guys

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thereal.y.n. cooking and gossiping with aunt may is ✨an experience✨ (yes, i am officially the favourite child)

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→ thisismay aww i loved hanging out with you → thereal.y.n. we should do it again and then you can show me those baby fotos → _peter_parker_ i am officially worried

→ mystery.jones did you get baby fotos as blackmail? → thereal.y.n. im working on it → TheGuyInTheChair i have some too yknow

#peter parker fic #peter parker instagram #peter parker headcanons #peter parker x reader #peter parker #marvel headcanons #marvel x reader #mj jones #michelle jones #ned #marverl ned #marvel cinematic universe #marvel spiderman #tomholland #tom holland spiderman

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allmythologies · 1 year

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day 8 of horror mythology: vodyanoy

vodyanoy is said to appear as a naked old man with a frog-like face, greenish beard, and long hair, with his body covered in algae and muck, usually covered in black fish scales; сonsequently, he is often dubbed "grandfather" or "forefather" by the local people. he has webbed paws instead of hands, a fish's tail, and eyes that burn like red-hot coals. he usually rides along his river on a half-sunken log, making loud splashes. local drownings are said to be the work of the vodyanoy. when angered, the vodyanoy breaks dams, washes down water mills, and drowns people and animals. consequently, fishermen, millers, and also bee-keepers make sacrifices to appease him. the vodyanoy would sometimes drag people down to his underwater dwelling to serve him as slaves.

#slavic mythology #vodyanoy #mythologyedit #horror mythology #horror #mythedit #*mine*

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ryansanimationscreens · 2 years

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Friendship.

Pig: The Dam Keeper Poems (2017)

#Tonko House #Pig: The Dam Keeper Poems #The Dam Keeper #The Dam Keeper Poems

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thedo0zyslider · 6 months

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When Scar hits that Succeed button, two things happen at once. The first is that the game doesn't end. Which is more disappointing than shocking, really, he truly didn't know if it would end or not when he hit the button. The second thing was that he remembered. Scar remembered a lot of things in that moment, four whole lifetimes worth of memories came back when he hit that button. And a lot of emotions came with those memories, like, a lot a lot.

The first is a lot of pain. A lot of pain and grief. So, so much grief, he hadn't even know someone could hold this much pain in them before now. But it's possible, and the choking sob Scar lets out proves that. He lets out more sobs after the first, unable to really stop them from happening. And the river tears that fall from his face, those are uncontrollable as well.

The pain he feels from the memories are for a lot of reasons. One of the first ones is the flower he wears, memories of desert heat and sand and llamas being the first to hit him. Memories of the very first creeper explosion, the war, everything. He remembers handing his one ally a bouquet of flowers, and then lying dead in a cactus ring not even a few weeks later. Heh, talk about whiplash....

The second pain, Scar finds as another sob hits him, is the strong pang of loneliness. One much like the sting he'd been feeling for this whole game. But this time it's different, it's the feeling that comes with experiencing true loneliness for the first time. This time around the lonley feelings had felt almost vaguely familiar, and now he can place why. Now he can remember the mountain and his dumb magic crystals and the sting of being left to fend for himself over and over and over again. And also the familiar sting of anger at everyone for just letting him be left like that. Alone and broken and hopeless.

The third reason is heartbreak. Bitter heartbreak, and also a sense of not really caring anymore. Then sense of being so deeply wronged, but being too jaded and apathetic to even care. Scar curls his fist at the memory, the cloth of his coat being nearly torn from how hard he holds it, and feels the bitterness of pure indifference to almost everyone wash over him once more; if only for a few measly seconds.

The fourth stab of pains, because they seem to be coming in rounds as he remembers each life, is strange. That life is happier. But this is a death game, so there is always pain that comes with it. There is a sense of strange alliances and the fourth death he can remember brings a sense of familiarity with it. A contrast to the very first that leaves something rather bitter in his mouth once again. Something with a slight hint of betrayal in it.

Thats where the memories and the grief stop, because he remembers the fifth life and the pain of it. There is nothing to remember, no pain he hasn't already gone through anymore. It’s real, it's there, and Scar can do nothing but cry and breakdown under the weight of it all. Above him, the Secret Keeper says nothing, just watches on with it's empty gaze, not caring a single bit for its victors breakdown.

Scar starts wiping at his eyes, hoping it would calm the stream now coming from them. It does not. Like how covering his mouth won't stop the sobs that bubble past his lips, and how clawing at his chest won't make the pain leave his heart. He thinks some of the tears are for the man he was, or the one he could've been; had these games not happened and spared all their players the pain.

At a certain point, Scar realizes he'd slid down onto the grass. His back is pressed against a block, the one that dammed Succeed button is on, and it's cool against his back. Cool against the wirthing agnoy inside and memories screaming loudly in his head. Cool and grounding against all the ugly trauma he's having to process all at once.

Eventually though, his crying does cease, and Scar can do nothing but stare down at his own hands. They feel sticky with the blood of many people, maybe versions of his friends long dead and buried; just like the many versions of him now are.

It's a little jarring, honestly, to be able to look at his hands and now know where all those scars came from. To remember. To remember why his arms and legs are coated in old the remnants of old wounds. Why there's an explosion scar covering his whole backside. Why sometimes his joints and certain parts hurt from being injured one too many times over, from taking too many awkward falls and bad landings. Some still aching from never having a chance to properly heal, and the wounds that caused his old deaths closed over and scarred like the rest of him.

After a few minutes, Scar tears his red gaze from his palms. He's tried of sitting here and crying. He's tired of an empty world. He wants to go home, to his friends. He wants to find people who also remember, who can help him; so he won't ever be lonely anymore.

He wants to stay sorry, if he can.

So Scar stands on shaky legs, and reaches out to press the Succeed button again. Just to test if anything else new will happen, or if, maybe, they will finally let him go home.

#ron.writing #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #gtwscar #secret life #sl smp #life series #life series smp #traffic series #trafficblr #traffic smp #slsmp #secret life smp #No shipping on this one me thinks #This isn't my best work but yk what I'll take it #Can u tell I forgot all of scars limited life the second I started writing 💔

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grapenehifics · 2 months

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Rotating the Obikin Lighthouse Fake-Married AU in my brain 🤔 Forgive me, I’m about to throw a lot of ideas at you because my plot brain is a mess lol.

So, I’m thinking this world but in the 1950’s to make them suitably cut off from the rest of the world and to enable some backstory for them both from WWII. Obi-Wan has already been a keeper of the lighthouse for two years now unaccompanied, but in the fall the owners of the house send him a letter requiring him to marry or else he’ll be fired in favor of an already wed keeper. Panicking, he writes a letter to the local town’s paper requesting an ad to be put out looking for a spouse/assistant keeper.

Anakin within this AU is desperate for a job due to backstory I haven’t thought of yet lol and looks through the newspaper ads to find Obi-Wan’s, and although marrying a stranger and working on a tiny island tending a lighthouse doesn’t sound like his thing, he immediately writes back for the promise of free room and board for six months.

Their first meeting is their wedding, officiated on the seaside dock of the island right after Anakin gets off the boat. From there, the fic would go through their awkward first few weeks, their conflict with one another confined to such a small space, then their budding friendship when they recognize themselves in one another.

I think the smut/romance would naturally come about in the winter, when they have to spend nearly every minute inside lest they freeze in the ocean’s icy mist. Would definitely feature cuddling for warmth, fireside bonding, sleeping in the same bed on the coldest nights 👀 I can just imagine all the kinky shit they’d get up to on a remote island the second the dam broke between them lmaooo

Happy ending is they eventually save up enough money and buy their own lighthouse as a proper couple

Sorry for the unsolicited idea dump! Ignore me if you’re not into it hahaha just had to throw my sudden plot around the AU somewhere!

OMG YES THIS EXACTLY this is what I was picturing too!!

Anakin could be having a hard time readjusting to life post-war that makes it difficult for him to hold down a steady job? PTSD, and/or that's where he lost an arm and that's been a tough transition? (Or employers simply look at him and *assume* he won't be able to do the job, even though he's perfectly capable.)

Their first few weeks together would be SO awkward and uncomfortable! Neither are very talkative or forthcoming so they just sort of...sit and stew, haha. Until one of them makes the other laugh and they learn to have a normal conversation :)

And then you had me at cuddling for warmth. The aesthetics of this is amazing. Fireplaces, warm blankets, hot tea...when they do have to go outside to work, they'll inevitably get soaked to the bone in a storm and need the other to get them out of their wet clothes, dry them off and warm them up!!

And sooooo much privacy; they can be as loud as they want together all the way out there, and have sex in every room of that lighthouse whenever they feel like it ;) (a.k.a. often) (The next owners might not love that part so much...)

EXTREMELY into this and would gladly read more of this anytime!! ♥♥♥ Thank you for running with this fun prompt!!

#obikin #lighthouse au

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