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eyeballs and burn scars by jaysflight for anoplodesmus_saussurii (orphan_account)
Fandoms: Life Series | 3rd Life SMP Series
09 Apr 2026
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He’d had his thing with Cleo, but the three of them had had each other. Even when things had gotten ugly between them they’d still been irrevocably linked, knowing each other like the back of their own hands.
He’d been her rebound, he knows. Not without passion on their end, but a rebound all the same. Someone to fill the gaping hole in their heart following betrayal and breakup, someone who would cup their face in his hands and take their lips in his without caring that he was being burned.
He doesn’t care if he re-opens the scars. In fact, some part of him needs to bleed again.
Or: The world ends, and the lives of those who Martyn cares for with it. He doesn’t have the luxury to choose who he partners with anymore.
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the rot at a star's core by jaysflight for lostinspaceandtime
Fandoms: QSMP | Quackity SMP
23 Mar 2026
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DRAMATIS PERSONAE
ETOILES. A space-faring wanderer, crash-landed on an insular prison.
BINARY ENTITY. A fragmented piece of people once whole.
Or: Etoiles & the Code, a non-linear telling.
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your shield and my heart by jaysflight for lostinspaceandtime
Fandoms: QSMP | Quackity SMP
16 Mar 2026
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Guill doesn’t want to pry when he doesn’t think he has any right to, anymore. But he knew Etoiles back when they were younger and likes to think he knows him now still; that he knows the ways in which he constantly pushes himself past the limits of his chronically ill body, shrugs off the consequences of his overworking right up until he cannot anymore. That he’s still familiar with how he keeps any growing hurt hidden behind easy smiles and laughter, any potential weakness kept out of sight beneath layers of clothing, even if they were worsening day after day, dragging him down into a darkness Guill wasn't sure he could ever recover from.
Maybe Etoiles was more like a comet than he’d initially thought; maybe he was already burning up on entry, body disintegrating and rock-dust spreading out into the cosmos. Maybe every time he stuck his neck out for someone, a little more of him burned away.
Or: Everyone is having a difficult time in Purgatory, but at least Guill gets to reunite with an old friend again.
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snowbound by jaysflight for amaranthinecanicular
Fandoms: Life Series | 3rd Life SMP Series
25 Dec 2025
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“Good lord,” says Scott, no small amount of strain in his voice.
Scar plasters on a winning smile, artfully shakes out the tufts of snow from his hair like a model from one of those ruined magazines you could find lying around might. Clearly, he hadn’t meant to do, frankly, any of what had just transpired, but Scott didn’t need to know that detail. “Dear Scott, what ever is the matter?”
Scott stares at him. There is something like exasperation in his eyes, though it’s mostly covered up by his astonishment. “You’re not serious?”
Scar makes sure his smile looks extra dashing. He brings a hand to his chest, as if to show he’s speaking straight from the heart. “No, but I’m sure your infinite wisdom could catch me up to speed.”
Scott pinches his lips. He breathes in through his nose, then out through his mouth. His eyes slowly drift from Scar to the broken remains of what used to be their front door. “You know what? Never mind,” he eventually replies, sounding long-suffering in a way that delights Scar’s long-standing mischievous streak, “we’ll fix it.”
Or: In the midst of a snow-pocalypse, Scar navigates confinement with the rest of the Cabin Crew.
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The night Team Green Pandas are eliminated from the second Purgatory, Etoiles dreams. It’s a nightmare, naturally, because no dreams are peaceful in this place.
He doesn’t know where lies the limit, between reality and illusion; but he accepts his dream as the latter, for his own peace of mind.
Etoiles doesn't get to go home just yet. The Watcher has other plans for him and the wayward pair of sinners who refuse to die.
Series
- Part 2 of REACH FOR THE STARS [qEtoiles]
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sunspots and vex blue by jaysflight
Fandoms: Hermitcraft SMP, Life Series | 3rd Life SMP Series
16 Apr 2025
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He doesn’t think he’s an irredeemable villain. He thinks he’s a charismatic one, a conniving one, but not someone who acts out of a complete self-interest. He hasn’t got a heart of complete stone; it buckles under love’s pressure all the same, even if he may like to pretend otherwise.
He remembers echoes of guilt, rising up from his lungs as he’d breathed the night air in; he remembers the twinge of pain that absence had brought, whenever he’d looked to his side and seen his second half replaced by someone so much lesser. And he remembers his soul-crushing joy when he’d seen Grian atop that hill, bathed in the rising sun's light, bloody vengeance reserved for him alone bright, bright in his eyes.
Or: Life moves on and Scar with it, while everyone else seems to lag behind. He does not stop to wonder whether he is just as lost as they are.
II. Scar
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Tommy is openly, overwhelmingly angry for Tubbo, eyes wide and mouth agape, his indignation written in every single line of his face. The sheer supportiveness would make Tubbo cry if he hadn’t learned how to screw those pipes shut indefinitely.
'Man up', Schlatt would shout. 'Stand up straight and stiffen your shoulders', Wilbur would say. 'Hide your feelings, hide your fear', his own mind would whisper. And here he was now, staring impassively before him with his hands around a mug of tea, listening in a dull stupor as Tommy screams out his lungs at Technoblade.
Double agent and agency.
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He should have given in, killed Scar in his cadaver-sleep like he’d been tempted to so many times before, diamond sword sweat-gripped in his hand above his moonlit cot; but he hadn’t then, and still wouldn’t now, and he’s always snapped back, biting, at the mere insinuation that he’s a fool, but he’s undoubtedly feeling like one now.
It should be easy to kill; it is easy to kill. He lets his grip loosen, anyway.
on paranoia, and the knife it wields
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It was just the two of them, he and Crowley, angel and demon, two opposites on the sides of a War that would have its culmination merely eight hundred years from now. They were not meant to be here, solitary, in some thin alleway in a small German town that would have no significance a millennium from now, had no significance now, even; at least not in the powers-at-be’s eyes. Everything about this was improbable. Every shred of angelic instinct within him, that’d he quietly begun to drown out over the years when he was with Crowley, was yelling at him to leave at once, to get out while he could still play at respectability.
He stood there, the breeze playing with his locks of platinum hair, and did not move. He set his shoulders, lifted his chin a little. “I’ll take care of it, Crowley,” Aziraphale firmly stated. “Take care of them.”
They'd met countless times over the six thousand years, in all sorts of manners and places; here are six more, in tangential relation to six fairytales or myths.
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He’s holding his shield in his hand, still. Hugged against his left side, helmet pressed against his right, a good thing, a warrior without his defence is no warrior at all. He goes to move the shield, to shift it forwards to show it off to Pomme. He opens his mouth. Closes it again. Thinks twice about actually mentioning it, mentioning that it’s technically at the source of the scars crawling ruthlessly up his limb and face, the void-weight that digs numbly into his skin.
Pomme, the lovely, logical creature that she is, will hang onto that point with fervour. She will worry about his using the shield, will wonder if he still should even as she knows how important it is to him (just like her mother does, did, she still does), and he will tell her that he can’t give it up, he has people to protect, and she will be disappointed even as she understands, and she will worry more, and it will be a mess. Half of her parents are not here. She has enough on her plate as is.
Tender things are at our core. It’s easy to remember now that your daughter’s come home.
Series
- Part 1 of REACH FOR THE STARS [qEtoiles]
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drowning in my dearest, deepest condolences by jaysflight
Fandoms: 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series, Hermitcraft SMP
17 Jul 2023
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“And there the problem is, laid out before him in stark clarity; his absolute inability to move on, even though it’s been more than a month. Some part of him, the logical, common sense part that would chime in if he were talking to anyone else, knows that healing isn’t easy; that it isn’t linear, or straightforward, or has a set start and finish.
But it’s an explanation easier offered than put into practice; the platitude rings hollow when you’re alone, and floundering, and there is no light in sight within your dark and damp tunnel. It means nothing, when you’re lost so deep in your own struggles that you don’t even know if there’s a way out.”
Or: Somehow, he’s survived the war, but the person who’d lived before him is dead, and the person who’s just crawled out of his cadaver is horrible at moving on.
I. Impulse
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past loves linger like phantom limbs by jaysflight for tealeafcats, lunarblazes, jimnthebadge
Fandoms: 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series
14 May 2023
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“Maybe it’s because those first few nights spent underground are still imprinted in his mind; ash coated hair and worn out pickaxes, high pitched laughter strung out from his stupid jokes, an echo of camaraderie alight in their eyes. And he remembers thinking, oh, this is unfair.
Half lost in a dimly lit mineshaft. Diamonds shared in honour of tentative friendship. Loyalty shoved down his throat until he was choking on it.”
Pizza dies to a flurry of arrows, and Scar follows her to his grave in a haze of blinding crimson. Grian, sole survivor of the Sands, joins forces with Dogwarts, his once sworn enemy.
The truth of the matter, as it is wont to do, reveals itself to be much more complicated than first thought. Martyn tries his best to follow the unravelling thread.
Or, alternatively: Scar’s final death, and the ghosts he leaves behind (Pale White Horse AU).
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When the day is still warm, the cool breeze in the air is just as big of a mockery as the curved etching of Grian’s lips; mirthful, bright grins reserved just for him, for his antics and his jokes, for his mere presence alone. All he sees in them now is the golden waves of the desert sea, the blazing brightness of the partner he’s lost to the shifting tides of time. It hurts just as much as death once did, Scar thinks, to be so close to salvation and to never take hold.
(In which Scar yearns, and perhaps finds what he has been missing for so long.)
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What is reality, really, but an adherence to someone else’s story?
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There was silence for a while. But then came the question; maladroit and uncertain, but with clear determination, and a blooming curiosity. “Who are you?”
He blinked. The absurdity of the query made laughter — the sort that grips you ruthlessly by the chest and throws your head back — climb up his throat, held back only by his sunburnt cheeks. And yet it was a fair thing to ask; he was the stranger, after all, passing through lands not his own.
“Oh, I’ve many names.” He finally smiled, sharp-toothed and sly. And he had; nicknames and true names, barbed insults and cautionary titles. “My friends call me Scar, though.”
Or: Scar, between Hermitcraft worlds, takes a trip and makes a new friend.
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ma galaxie s’étend (ensemble, nous sommes des étoiles) by jaysflight for echotunes
Fandoms: Hermitcraft SMP
31 Dec 2021
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Grian is not human. No one in Boatem is. That does not stop him from being the strangest out of the bunch.
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Scar’s been stewing in his solitude ever since he turned red. The arrival of the Southerners may change that.
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Tubbo’s focus is on L’Manberg, but maybe things can go back to normal if there’s no country to watch over anymore. Tommy gives the idea a shot.
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we live in consequence by jaysflight
Fandoms: Stephen King - Fandom, The Shining, Doctor Sleep - Fandom
14 Feb 2020
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Dan Torrance’s act of heroism doesn’t come without consequence.