I swear that this is the last one, and i hope that this isn't annoying you.
But i have a lot of angsty chaiflower ideas:
Pav (who hasn't seen the more cruler side of being spiderman) seeing Miles scars for the first time. (I imagine that Miles has a few Lichtenberg scars due to his powers.) Him being unable to sleep, because he keeps on thinking about them, how it must have felt to get them anf gently tracing them.
I've wanted to write one like this one for so long and I'm so happy I finally have the chance aaaa!!
Since this idea inspired me so much I decided to write a small fanfic instead, modifying one I had in my drafts, I hope it's alright!
"Lichtenberg Scars" - ChaiFlower angst
Tw: descriptions of scars
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In the quiet hours of the night, Pavitr's room was illuminated by a soft, dim light. Pavitr and his boyfriend Miles were sitting on the edge of the bed, engaged in a hushed conversation. The night had a calming effect, offering a temporary respite from the hustle and bustle of their daily lives.
"It's getting late," Miles yawned and stretched, his movements slow and relaxed "we should get some rest."
As he began to undress in preparation for sleep, Pavitr watched with a mixture of curiosity and tenderness. However, as Miles peeled off his shirt, revealing a canvas of scars that adorned his torso and arms, a heavy silence descended upon the room.
Pavitr's breath caught in his throat as his eyes were drawn to the slightly lighter marks. Each scar had its own narrative, each wound a reminder of the sacrifices Miles had made as a hero. The room felt suffocating, the weight of the realization pressing down on Pavitr's chest.
Miles turned towards Pavitr, his expression softening as he noticed the sudden shift in the atmosphere "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice gentle and concerned.
Pavitr struggled to find the right words, his mind racing as he grappled with the sight before him. The image of Miles, scarred and battle-worn, was a stark contrast to the bright and carefree person he had grown to know and love. The cruel reality of their roles as superheroes had never hit Pavitr so intensely.
Miles' brow furrowed as he reached out, placing a hand on Pavitr's arm "Pav? Is everything okay?" he urged, his eyes searching Pavitr's face for answers.
Pavitr finally found his voice, though it trembled "I- I never really understood how dangerous this could be," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper "I mean, I knew, but seeing these scars, Miles, it's like a harsh wake-up call."
Miles nodded solemnly, his gaze never leaving Pavitr's. He understood the weight of Pavitr's words, the realization that their roles as heroes came with a steep price. He's been there.
"Yeah," he sighed, "it's not all web-swinging and bantering with villains. There's a darker side to it, a much darker side."
And then, silence followed as the two prepared to sleep.
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The room was cloaked in darkness, the only sounds the soft rustling of sheets and the steady rhythm of their breaths. Miles lay on top of Pavitr, their bodies molded together in a comforting embrace. The heaviness of the conversation seemed to have lifted, leaving an unspoken understanding between them.
But for Pavitr, sleep remained elusive. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts circling back to the scars that adorned Miles' body. He traced the faint patterns on Miles' back with his fingers, his touch gentle and contemplative.
Sensing Pavitr's restlessness, Miles lifted his head slightly, his brow furrowing in concern. He could feel the tension in Pavitr's body, the weight of his thoughts pressing against him.
"Hey," Miles whispered "you okay?"
Pavitr hesitated for a moment before finally speaking, his voice barely more than a whisper "Miles, can I ask you something?"
Miles nodded, his gaze fixed on Pavitr's face "Of course, you can ask me anything."
Pavitr took a deep breath, his fingers continuing to trace the patterns of scars on Miles' skin.
"How- How did you get all these scars?" he finally managed to ask.
Miles looked down at their intertwined bodies, his fingers absently playing with the hair at the nape of Pavitr's neck.
He took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking "Well, some of these scars are from battles with villains," he began, his voice steady as he recounted the stories "Like this one on my shoulder—it's from a fight with someone who had these sharp, metal claws. And this scar on my chest, it's from a villain who could manipulate fire."
Pavitr listened intently, his heart aching as he imagined the danger and pain Miles had faced. He waited for Miles to continue, his fingers tracing the scars with a newfound reverence.
Miles hesitated, his fingers pausing in their absentminded movement. He looked deeply into Pavitr's eyes before gently lifting his hand to show the Lichtenberg scars that adorned his fingers.
"And these," he said softly, "these are from my electric powers. The energy sometimes leaves these marks on my skin, I'm still working on that."
Pavitr's eyes widened as he looked at the intricate patterns on Miles' fingers. He felt a mixture of awe and sadness, the realization sinking in that Miles had faced dangers far beyond what he could have imagined.
"I've been through a lot," Miles continued, "But I want you to know that I wouldn't change any of it. Being Spider-Man, having these powers—it's a part of who I am. And I wouldn't be the person I am today without these experiences."
Pavitr nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Miles' scarred fingers. He reached out and gently took one of Miles' hands in his own, his touch soft and tender.
Miles leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to Pavitr's lips, his voice a mere whisper against his skin "I'm here, Pav. And I'm not going anywhere. We're in this together."
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fic intro! after three years of on-and-off work, this fic is finally, finally done. i'll hopefully be finishing up my last edits this week and start posting in very early december <3
lichtenberg
seungbin, 75k
urban fantasy, slow-burn romance
listen to the playlist here
Changbin, as far as he remembers, has never liked lightning.
Ever since he was a child, he’s found there to be something uncanny in thunderstorms; he wouldn’t say he’s afraid of them if asked, doesn’t curl up and cover his ears at the sound of thunder or hide from the bright blade of lightning, but something about them just… unsettles him. It’s the weight of the clouds over his shoulders, perhaps, pulling the sky down towards the street; the roar of the rain and the brilliant light, sharper than any shade of white he’s ever seen; the heavy, patient quiet as the world waits for the thunder to roll.
It sets him on edge every time.
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