#my muse is strange

[katarena]

Can't Hold His Liquor

Follow up from this post.

“Can I help y’to some more mead, Skarlath?”

“Thank you.”

Fordpetal poured the liquid into the tankard, trying not to look at the newcomer’s piercing hazel eyes. If she did, she’d start blushing and she didn’t want to make a fool of herself in front of Lord Sunflash’s best friend. He may have been handsome, but he looked a bit scary.

“I say, steady on, Fordpetal, before you overfill it!” Fordpetal’s best friend, Lilybright, caught her arm. Quickly, Fordpetal put the jug down.

“Sorry, sir,” she mumbled.

“There is no need to call me that,” was the reply. “I am simply Skarlath.” He took a measured gulp of the mead.

Fordpetal’s curiosity got the better of her. “If y’don’t mind me asking, Skarlath, how did y’meet his Lordship? He’s spoken of y’often, and we’d like to know how you became friends!”

A surprisingly warm smile blossomed over Skarlath’s face, softening his eyes. “I was unconscious after a snowstorm and woke up close to Swartt Sixfinger’s camp. He was going to kill me at first, but then decided to let me freeze to death instead of finishing me off with his knife. Then he pushed Sunflash out of the warmth to punish him for…something, I cannot remember what it was. Sunflash’s hands were tied but the moment everyone was asleep he was crushing me against him. I thought he was going to suffocate me, but he was warming me up instead. When I could move my fingers again, I untied him, and he snapped a bough off a hornbeam tree…”

“Was this his mace, si-Skarlath?” Fordpetal asked eagerly.

“Yes it was! The very same. Then he laid into the camp, crushing Swartt’s hand, and we escaped like…”

Skarlath swept a hand over the tablecloth, sending his knife clattering into his plate. His hair was slightly dishevelled, his cheeks flushed.

“I…I say, Skarlath, old chap,” Lilybright asked, “how much of that mead have you had?”

He didn’t seem to hear her. Instead, he seemed to be trying to suppress a laugh.

Lilybright and Fordpetal looked at each other in alarm.

“Oh, lack a bally day, he’s squiffy.”

“I think he’s more’n just squiffy, Lily.” It was a well-known fact that inhabitants of Salamandastron were not only notorious eaters with excellent metabolism, but they could also hold their liquor admirably well without suffering hangovers.

Unfortunately, this meant they sometimes forgot that not everyone could tolerate alcohol as well as they could.

Fordpetal thought quickly. “I’ll find his Lordship. He’s got a bally good head on his shoulders, he’ll know what t’do!”

She quickly made her way towards Lord Sunflash’s chair and discreetly cleared her throat. It wasn’t long before he looked up.

“Everything all right, Fordpetal?”

Nervously looking around, Fordpetal murmured, “Well, that’s the thing, Sire. There might be a bit of a situation, if y’take my meaning.”

“Situation? What kind of…”

A wild laugh interrupted Sunflash, and he turned his head to see Skarlath leaning back in his chair, shoulders shaking. He couldn’t seem to stop giggling. Sunflash hadn’t seen him this relaxed in the company of people he didn’t know; it had taken him a while to be properly at ease when staying with the Lingl and Dubbo families.

Then Sunflash realised what had happened. He pushed his chair back. “Thank you, Fordpetal. Excuse me, Sabretache; I will return soon.”

*****

Most of the inhabitants of Salamandastron were happily eating and drinking, so it was easy getting Skarlath to leave the table, and to manoeuvre him away from the hall while keeping his dignity intact. Sunflash had one of Skarlath’s arms around his shoulders, while he himself kept a secure hold around his friend’s waist, preventing him from swaying too much.

After a few minutes, they reached the bottom of a winding flight of stone stairs.

“Sorry about this, Skarlath.”

Sunflash hoisted the slighter man over his shoulder; Skarlath yelped with surprise but didn’t struggle. Sunflash made his way up and up until they reached the quarters that had been set aside for when Skarlath came to visit.

“I don’t envy you the headache you’re going to have in the morning, Skarlath.” Sunflash gently placed his friend onto the bed and set about removing his shoes. Perhaps he would ask Dewfleck to make a poultice or a compress for Skarlath, if she had time.

“Rest, friend.” Skarlath’s eyes were closed, his voice barely audible. He seemed to be halfway in a dream. “Then we go far away.”

He hadn’t weighed much that cold winter’s night, either.

Sunflash sighed fondly, shaking his head. “My wandering days are over. Salamandastron is my home now – and it’s yours too, if you’ll have it.”

[fheythfully]

3.9.24 "The Exhibit of Eorzea's Warrior of Light"

[fukutomichi]

The Machine (2013) directed by Caradog W. James Sam Hazeldine as James

[quanblovk]

[lesyablackbird]

"Unexpected Arrival" fan art commission of Daughter of Smoke and Bone by @lainit with just a hint of Strange the Dreamer. Commissioned by @teddibarez

As readers of both series will know, this is not a scene from ether of the two books, but its a possibility after the events of both books play out.

[goodsgraces]

accomplished my goal of getting down to single digit drafts which means i get to post a starter / plotting call . . . like this and i'll dm you for your preference ! horror plots are listed below but anything in my wishlist tag is an option .

muses i want to write ( can be put in a horror plot or in a slice of life ! ) :

jesse erickson . harris dickinson . tattoo artist . he / they .

rowan verlice . grace van patten . politician's daughter . she / her .

zane kumari. . josh heuston . science student + lifeguard . he / him .

charli xu jett . chase sui wonders . club dj . she / they .

beau kinsey . kyle gallner . mechanic . he / him .

cassandra vega . rachel zegler . church pianist + caretaker . she / her .

juniper lindfield . odessa a'zion . thrift shop clerk . they / them .

horror / supernatural concepts :

vampire x human familiar . . . can be a one - sided crush on the human's end , a mutual unspoken thing or they could be in a transactional relationship .

vampire x vampire . . . can go a variety of ways but i'm picturing something similar to gaga x her boyfriend in ahs hotel . a very sexy and VERY smart duo .

jennifer's body - esque plot . . . but needy helps jennifer find boys to eat and cleans up her messes and they're madly in love with each other . can be canon or ocs .

bones and all - esque plot . . . two c*nnibals on the road together who are literal partners in crime . likely started as total strangers and we can start there or plot something more established .

midnight mass - esque plot . . . residents of a small town start to notice the town begin to change after a newcomer comes to town . tragedy ensues . can be the preacher like the show or can be a new resident !

shaun of the dead / zombieland . . . i'm not big on the walking dead but i do love zombies ! this would be more of a silly , goofy take on it and we can come up with extra lore together after using the movie(s) as a base .

buzzfeed unsolved / paranormal influencers . . . two paranormal influencers who run a successful youtube channel together . can be kept light or we can also venture into blair witch territory .

jeeper's creepers - esque plot . . . two people who saw something bizarre while driving and are being hunted by a terrifying creature that managed to catch their scent .

pick a song from preacher's daughter by ethel cain .

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

'It's Not the Years, Honey - It's the Mileage'

a Whumped Doctor Strange one-shot

Inspired by a couple of pre Multiverse of Madness articles comparing Stephen Strange to Indiana Jones😉😁

genre: whump, hurt/comfort, light humor

rating: general audience

characters: Stephen Strange, Tess O'Neill (Healer of Kamar-Taj, OFC); established relationship; Cloak of Levitation

word count: 1.9k

It was supposed to have been date night, but Stephen was overdue. Three hours overdue. Again. Tess had taken these things in stride, right from the start. After all, you can’t be lucky enough to be the significant other of the Sorcerer Supreme without being incredibly patient, understanding, and flexible. Besides which, he was always so adorable when he finally found his way home, sincere in his apologies, and more often than not, presenting her with a fresh bouquet, which he managed to conjure even before he uttered a single word. Tonight’s transgression was bound to be a two dozen roses mea culpa--and she just knew he’d make them her favorite: pale pink American Beauties.

Not that he ever needed to. His company was dear enough recompense for any time he kept her waiting. Except for the worrying, of course, but Tess had quickly adjusted to that, and so far she hadn’t made any complaint, no matter how late her Stephen managed to show up. She’d rather spend their precious time on more pleasant pursuits--and on showing him however she could, how happy he made her simply by being...him. 

And so, Tess had adjusted down their plans. First, from dinner out and a movie, to take-out and the latest blu-ray release. And then from that, to something she could whip up, quick and easy, in the Sanctum’s smaller kitchen. Stephen was bound to be hungry when he arrived, and she had a hearty pot of stew simmering on the stove and a batch of honey cornbread ready to pop into the oven while he cleaned up. 

Tess had just given the stew another stir, when she felt a tapping on her shoulder. She turned to find Cloak looking battle singed and...well...harried. How this being without a face could express such a wide range of emotions was a continual wonder to her--but right now her immediate reaction was to ask if Stephen was alright. 

Cloak’s collar shook a clear ‘no’, and then it tugged at her arm, to get her moving. She turned off the stove and moved the stewpot to another burner, and followed Cloak down the grand staircase. And there sat Stephen on the third step, head bowed and shoulders hunched, his bloodstained tunic rent in several places. Tess’s heart leapt to her throat, though she tried to remain calm, realizing that he needed her as a Healer tonight, far more than as the woman who loved him. 

She dropped to one knee in front of him, noting that the shelf of his jaw bore a dark bruise, and that he had a nasty cut across the bridge of his nose, a black eye and a split lip. “Hey,” she said softly, reaching her sure hands towards him, studying his wounds with practiced eyes, evaluating which she should address first. Thankfully, the blood on his clothing was dried, so that Tess concluded he wasn’t actively bleeding. “What happened,” she asked quietly, concerned to see him breathe shallowly, as breathing any deeper appeared to make him wince. 

“You don’t wanna know,” he muttered, as she placed both of her palms on his chest and closed her eyes, searching for any internal damage. 

“Ow...ow...ow...owwwwwwww,” he grumbled, “Is this really necessary?” 

Cloak was flitting back and forth, giving the closest approximation of pacing as possible. “It certainly is, as well you know...Doctor.” To that he only grunted, then followed with a heavy groan when she palpated his lower ribs and abdomen. “Stephen,” she informed him patiently, “You’ve got at least three cracked ribs...” 

“I know,” he replied curtly, “Don’t you think I know that?”

Tess tried to placate him. “Of course you do--but there’s no need to be pissy about it. It’ll just take a simple healing spell to start them knitting properly together.” 

“I...know,” he repeated through gritted teeth, attempting to stand. Cloak had to swoop in to keep him from landing hard on his bottom. 

Tess rose and wiped her hands on her denim capris. “Cloak, can you get him up to the infirmary, so I can take care of him properly?” 

Cloak nodded, but Stephen had other ideas. “No infirmary--just get me to my room...” 

Honestly, doctors really do make the worst patients, she thought, although she held her tongue, telling Stephen instead, “Nope. It’s the infirmary for you.” He huffed, but didn’t speak up. “And that’s Healer’s orders, Stephen. I outrank you in this, at least for the moment...” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled dismissively. He handed her his sling ring, “We can portal there--it’ll be quicker and a less bumpy trip than relying on...” He wagged his head in Cloak’s direction. 

Tess had to suppress a chuckle, as Cloak’s reaction to that perceived insult was to turn its back to Stephen. “Alright,” she sighed, slipping his ring on and bringing the golden circle to life. She returned to his side and offered him a hand to help him stand up. “Just lean on me, and we’ll be there in a jiffy.” 

She could feel his aversion to appearing so needy, even as he braced himself with an arm across her shoulders, but knew well that it wasn’t on her account. Stephen generally disliked showing weakness to anyone, although as their relationship had blossomed, his trust in her had been enough for him to reveal much of what he hid from the world behind sarcasm and bravado. Tess had always taken such precious trust as both a privilege and an honor. Stiff lipped against his pain and leaning on her heavily, they hobbled through the portal and Tess led him to sit on the nearest bed. 

The infirmary was empty but for them, and she took a moment to close the portal, and then rushed to gather her supplies. Disinfectant and a basin of warm water, along with a washcloth and the softest, fluffiest towel she could conjure, for after she got him cleaned up. And bandages. Lots and lots of bandages. Tess returned to Stephen’s side to find him struggling to remove his tunic. She set down her things, telling him, “Here...let me...” 

“I’ve...got...this.” he grunted, though it was clearly hurting him to raise his arms above his head. 

“No. No you don’t,” she corrected him gently, “Please--just let me do my job, Stephen.” 

“Alright...alright...” He did his best to relax as she worked the garment over his head and off. Tess gasped at the network of contusions across his shoulders and upper chest. “Dammit, Tess...that hurts!” 

“I know, darling. I know.” To her relief, most of his bruises appeared superficial. “Let’s start by getting you cleaned up, okay.” Stephen nooded, and closed his eyes as she washed the cut on his nose, and several shallow scratches on his cheeks and chin, finally seeing to the split on his lower lip. 

Next, she addressed the wounds on his back, circling behind him and perching on the edge of the bed. She was relieved again to find that they were rather shallow as well, and made quick work of cleansing them. Tess chose that moment to speak to him as his woman, rather than as a Healer. “You know--you’re extremely fit for a man your age, darling. But it wouldn’t hurt to be a little more careful out there.”

“It’s not the years, honey...” he snorted, “...it’s the mileage...” Stephen had stiffened despite her gentle approach, but when she applied the disinfectant, he hissed out a string of very un-Stephen-like curses. 

“Don’t be such a baby,” she muttered, her patience beginning to strain.

“I’m not,” he responded petulantly. 

Coulda fooled me, she thought, but bit back that retort. A few minutes more and she had his wounds properly bandaged. Tess set aside the basin and the towel, telling him, “Now let’s see about those ribs. Do you think you can lay back? It’ll be easier that way.” 

“Of course I can,” he barked, “I’m not an invalid, you know.” 

No, you’re just the crankiest Master of the Mystic Arts that I've ever encountered. Bravest and most selfless too, so I suppose I can forgive your churlishness.

He winced when she placed her hands on his shoulders, helping to ease him onto his back. Closing her eyes again, she skimmed her hands above the skin covering his damaged ribs, whispering the charm needed to bolster his body’s natural healing ability. Satisfied that she had succeeded once she could feel the spell take root, Tess pulled her hands away and opened her eyes. Stephen’s were closed, and his face had gone slack with a look of relief. Good enough, she concluded, hoping he would sleep a long while to aid in healing. 

Still, she thought she could do a little something to speed the reduction in the nastiest of his contusions--and it would be best to try while he was asleep. She reached tentative fingers to Stephen’s right shoulder. His eyes flew open with a start, “Owwwwww...that’s still tender, you know!” 

“I’m just trying to help...” 

“Well...I don’t need a nurse anymore,” he groused, “I just want to sleep.” 

“If you let me see to these now, you’ll feel much better in the morning...” Tess trailed her fingertips along his jaw, channeling her own energy into relieving his pain. “Any better?”

"A little,” he pouted, “But it hurts...almost everywhere...”

There seemed to be no pleasing him this way--but still, it was her nature to try. Exasperated, she blurted out, “Well, dammit, Stephen--where doesn’t it hurt?” 

Looking defiant, he showed her his elbow, “Here.” Tess laid the softest kiss she could upon it. 

“And...and here,” he added, pointing to his forehead, his whole demeanor softening in response to her tenderness. Cautiously, Tess leaned in and planted a loving kiss there. Momentum had turned in her favor. 

Stephen pointed to his un-blackened eye, “Um...here?”

Tess smiled softly, watching his eyes flutter shut, and then brushed her lips as lightly as she could upon his eyelid. There was a moment as her face hovered over his, and the look when he opened his eyes made her heart start to melt--for within their mercurial depths, she saw both gratitude and an apology for his childish behavior. Stephen tapped his lips and murmured, “Here.” 

She wondered if he felt her indulgent smile as their lips finally met, but before too long their kiss had gone from chaste to something deeper and more enduring, as he relaxed completely under her loving ministration. When she finally pulled away, Tess found that her kiss had worked a magic of its own, and her beloved Stephen was out like a light. 

Tess arose and draped the sheet across him lightly, then levitated the next bed over and landed it flush against his. Her hunch was that he’d sleep through the night, but she wanted to be close by if he should need her. 

Come morning, she awoke to find him gone--can’t keep a good Sorcerer down for long, she mused--but in his place, he’d left three dozen pale pink American Beauties, and a small piece of handwritten parchment. It was brief but to the point:  

Thank you, honey. For everything. Love - your Stephen xx

tagging: @hithertoundreamtof23 @stewardofningishzida @ironstrange1991 @mousedetective @aphroditesdilemma @icytrickster17 @groovyqueer @battledress @aelaer @mckiwi @couldntbedamned

[rosurie]

The Dark Room

I'm drowsy as shit rn from motion sick meds but I had a daydream with the love of my life Niki in it ♡ so I had to draw it before I forgot

[strangelockd]

His eyes & smile are just magical

[gothamsaved]

Iiiiiii get a little scared me going off on long tangents in replies will scare some rp partners away. On the other hand, I love digging into a muses thoughts and emotions and especially for someone like Bruce, he has a lot going on in there while he also doesn’t typically say much unless he’s out actively socializing. It’s a strange thing where I’m still trying to find a comfortable balance or way to write both the Bat and Bruce, while making them sound like the same guy and also different, without smacking my head into a wall and overthinking things too much.

[katarena]

Headcanon after seeing this art of Sunflash and Skarlath as humans and imagining a possible Redwall AU:

Skarlath can't hold his liquor. Unfortunately, not only is he completely unaware of this, but everyone else on Salamandastron (including Sunflash) can hold their liquor and very admirably at that.

Skarlath doesn't laugh much, so when he starts giggling uncontrollably while under the influence, Sunflash realises something is not right.

(Might write a fic about this. That sound OK to you?)

[sillyfairygarden]

cydonia

[butcharium]

Do you guys know that I am a nerd?

[sunnfish]

[ID: A digital illustration of Hanzawa Masato from Sasaki to Miyano. He is shown from a behind angle from the shoulders up, head hanging down wearily. The back of his neck and his cheeks and ear are angry shades of red and orange, as if badly sunburnt. His eye, barely visible from underneath his bangs, is an image of a photorealistic eye; it looks back towards the viewer. The background is a solid neon cyan. The artist's signature "sunnfish" is written in the corner. /End ID]

sunburn

[ramblingsfromthytruly]

i can't possibly describe the intensity of what i'm feeling right now but the gist of it is that i want to LIVE. i want to learn and travel and make friends and experience and laugh and smile and cry and and and-

and so i will go on with my routine and do something because i love doing ANYTHING i love simple things simple experiences are so beautiful i'm listening to a beautiful song and i have a cup of coffee in front of me and i've wasted away so many of my hours and no more no more no more no more no more no more no more no more no more

[luvdoomed]

hello!

just posted the 7th chapter of My Strange Harvest. read it here and drop me a word! i’d love to read your thoughts 🤍💌

here’s a preview✨

And the truth remains that it didn’t, and now James is dead, and Sirius feels it all over again: the guilt, the overwhelming guilt, now enhanced by the knowledge that he could have done something. That he could have helped. That maybe James would be alive if he did. That Remus kept him in the dark, and now James is dead, and Sirius can’t forgive James for dying, can’t forgive himself for not stopping it, and can’t forgive Remus for the two things.

He loves him. He loves him so much. He never stopped, could never stop even if he tried to, and Merlin knows he didn’t bother to actually try. He loves him.

But he doesn’t forgive him. He can’t. He thinks, stupidly, that he could forgive him for leaving. I wish you would have cheated, instead. I wish you would have gone and left me for a cute Muggle lad. I wish you would have stopped loving me. I wish you would have left out of hatred. I wish you would have been done with me, instead. He could forgive that. He’d do Remus one better – he could understand that.

But to keep him from saving James? And Lily? And Harry?

To let him live, like a fucking punishment, and then to let him know how… how deliberate it all was? To let him live, in a world where James doesn’t, to let him breathe out there, and then showing him how maybe things could have been different if he had known all along?

Sirius is trying. Really hard. He doesn’t think he has what it takes to forgive Remus, though. He wishes he had, and for that, he resents him, too.