#backscar

[tyferbebe]

I just NEED the backstory of Jeremy Allen White's back scar

[cimmeriana]

@backscar

Sometimes, she was lucky and all that could be remembered when she jolted awake was the trembling of her limbs, the cold sweet, and the palpitations of her heart. Those nights weren't so bad, as it was just her body's muscle memory reacting to something that her brain was clever enough to hide away once her white eyes opened to flicker in the darkness.

Tonight was not such a lucky night.

Melinoe sat up so abruptly that she could feel a sting in her neck from the momentum. Her body twisted, hands flailing out before her as it grasped for something solid until she could feel the cool dirt drag under her finger nails.

One thing that she was glad of, despite it all, was that she had disciplined herself enough not to let out a scream that would wake the others. Her knuckles clinched white in the dirt and she squeezed her eyes shut, head shaking as she willed away dreams of gore and malice. Her chest heaved, heart like the gallop of a prized racing horse, and she tuned into its feeling to slow her breaths.

She wasn't sure how long it took her, but at least she was able to get the disturbing images out of her head. Granted, it came at the price of a dull throb in her temples. Melinoe grimaced, eyes finally opening to scan up at the sky in a half-hearted attempt to gauge the time. She could have, if she actually read the placement of the stars like her mother had taught her, but all she cared about in this moment was that it was still the dead of night.

She was quiet as she rose, slinking her way from the privacy of her tent. It would be as bare as her waking memories of her past, had she not be resolved to explore what she might enjoy as decorations. What started out just an empty tent now had a bear skin rug, a healthy stack of books that she'd collected on their little ventures out, a crystal ball, a mound of fluffy pillows and blankets that she enjoyed the textures of, and an intricate chest that contained her journal and random keepsakes so she could have some way to keep memories of her companions.

The latter was most precious to her, as she had grown to see them all as a sort of family and was distraught at the very idea that perhaps she might lose her time with them.

Unsurprisingly, stepping from her tent meant she was met with the low, familiar sounds of sleeping companions. But there was one who she was near certain had to be awake at such an hour.

Her movements were like that of an agile cat, her shadow flickering with the casting shadows of the campfire. Not even Scratch or the owlbear cub - she really ought to give the little beastie a name - looked up as she passed.

❝ Astarion...❞ she sounded his name so soflty through the silence in a way that was like a song harmonizing with the gentle knell of crickets or perhaps like a small girl asking if her friend could finally come out to play.

It was ritual for her, at this point, to maneuver her way through the camp at late hours using the very same path that led from her tent to his. She stopped when she approached, allowing a respectful distance rather than just welcome herself inside, and took to kneeling a bit aways from the entrance of the vampire's own little haven.

—— ❝ Are you awake? ❞

[thiefscant]

        "i need you—" anais still falters on the concept of need, on how often she's had to use the term in reference to other people lately. on how little she likes needing anything, from anyone. but this is different. this isn't life-or-death. she holds up a hand before he can comment on where she left that sentence. "i need you to just sit still and look pretty for half an hour. without talking too much." she reluctantly reveals to him what's clutched to her chest: her journal, open to a fresh page, and a pencil lovingly sharpened to a fine point. if he still wants a look at himself, she can try to make it happen. "think you can manage that, or should i not even bother?"

/tosses this @backscar coz we kinda plotted earlier & i donut forget!!!!

[sempakhfiraoen]

for ao3

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[championsofthegate]

@backscar liked for a Shadowheart starter!

Shadowheart wasn't usually one to ask invasive questions. She preferred to study. To watch and learn information that way. But there were, unfortunately, some things you could only learn by talking to people.

Which was how she found herself sitting beside Astarion at the campfire one night.

"What's it like?" she asked quietly. "Drinking blood, I mean. If that's not too weird a question."

[championsofthegate]

@backscar liked for a Gale starter!

"You know, Astarion, I'm really beginning to enjoy our time together," Gale said, chatting amicably as the trudged through some underbrush or other, dragging slightly behind Tav. "Wouldn't you agree?"

He didn't really expect the other to agree, but it was better than walking in silence. Although only a week or so ago he would have disagreed with his own sentiments on that. How odd.

[wolfkcst]

How unfortunate, that a full moon had to be tonight of all nights. Eivor has hardly had any sleep or rest - making the transformation much more painful than it should. They were quick to disappear from camp, almost limping like a wounded animal with how quick and painful the transformation was coming. Usually, they had respite and time to get away, but not this time. Eyes quickly dart towards the pale elf standing not too far from them, pants heaving from their maw as they stared down at him from where they stood. Their tail remains stiff and still, their ears pinned back. Hair was standing up at the back of their neck, and they were fighting all urges that was beckoning them to take a bite out of their companion. No... They have to remain tame. They cannot allow themselves to hurt someone without control. Not again. ❝Leave me. Please.❞

sc. || @backscar

[dreadgloom]

@backscar liked this post for a random starter.

Back pressed against the trunk of a tree, the drow soaked in the chilly feeling pressed to her skin. As night had fallen, they did not wear the enchanted lenses she typically would. The sound of the soft rustling of grass caused her eyes to open and take note of the approaching figure. ❝ Forgive me . . . I have told you that you can feed from me tonight, but I have yet to trance, ❞ the ranger apologized once the spawn stood before her. ❝ Tonight has been a difficult one, but . . . I promise I won't be awake much longer. ❞