#{ your tales } you ; the muse

[hazbintales]

who wants the Wheel of Doom to pick who bites your muse in your inbox?

[ofvixensandwolves]

New muse unlocked: Janis 'Imi'ike, "pyro lesbian" and local art freak at North Shore High School.

[yellowmagicalgirl]

Honey Don't Feed Me (Or Else I Will Come Back)

Jim's a monster hunter, and Claire has been cursed with lycanthropy. Jim's a chef, and Claire's hungry.

So, one day I was thinking about @avirxy‘s Tear Me In Two (The Moonlight Will Anyway) series when Hozier's "It Will Come Back" came on when I was driving to school. This fic idea came to me and gripped me so tightly that I knew that I had to write this, even though it's taken a while because grad school.

You don't need to read Tear Me In Two to understand this fic, but I recommend that you do anyways because it is a wonderful series full of Claire Angst.

Rated T for memory loss and suicidal dialogue.

AO3 (archive locked)

FFN

When he was younger, Jim had hated when his mom was working a night shift. He was scared that his mom would go to work one day and never come home. Now, the night after a full moon? He was thankful that she wasn’t there to question why he was taking a thermos full of soup with him on a walk through the woods, especially when there had been so many so-called feral dog attacks recently.

It was the night after the full moon, and Claire still hadn’t come home. She had disappeared three days before the full moon. Jim had thought she would have come back today, shown up to school exhausted and covered in scratches. She had done that last month and had temporarily put a stop to all the dirty looks that her parents had been giving to Jim and Toby.

Jim could tell where she had been by the claw marks on the trees and the paw prints in the dried mud. And he had seen her in this area. Or at least, he had seen a feral dog with a blue hairclip still stubbornly clinging to her streaked fur. He placed the thermos on a flat rock and opened it. He grabbed a napkin out of his backpack and placed the spoon on it.

“I know you’re here, Claire.”

“Go away.”

“And waste the soup?”

She stepped out from the trees and shadows that had been hiding her. Only a single hair clip clung to her hair, desperately trying to tame her mane of curls into something manageable.

“You can have it.” Hopefully it was Claire’s stomach that growled and not the wolf.

“I made it for you. Besides…” Jim trailed off before he could ask the question. She probably wouldn’t know when she had last eaten. The last full moon, she hadn’t remembered what had happened when she had disappeared. She had looked so lost as she had said it. Claire was amazing in so many ways, among them her brilliant mind. She was one of, if not the smartest, students in their year. She was taking enough classes that she could graduate high school this year (though she’d need an extra year so she could go to college), and she still had straight A’s.

(Or at least she had straight A’s before the dog bite.)

Claire had once confided in Jim that she thought her mind and grades were the main reason why her mom loved her, because having a smart daughter was a status symbol. And now she was losing parts of her mind to the wolf.

“Besides,” Jim said again, “it’s already open, which means it’s already cooling.”

“I don’t want you here,” Claire said, and if it wasn’t an obvious lie Jim would’ve felt like he had been slapped. As it was, the pain of her lie hurt less than the pain of how disorientated and hurt Claire was. When she was on top of her game, she was a much better actress. She was normally capable of making her lies sound seamlessly true.

“I don’t want you around me,” she continued. This was less of a lie.

“I know you. You’re not going to hurt me.”

“Yes, I will.” A huff of sardonic laughter escaped her lips. “I don’t want to, but I’ll hurt you. I’ll hurt all of you. It’s better like this. It would be better if I were gone forever; I’m just too much of a coward.”

It took Jim a moment to realize what she was talking about. When he did, he had to place a hand against the tree bark to ground himself. He was no use to her if he panicked over her words. “I’m not going to kill you, Claire.”

“You should, before I hurt someone and make them like me.”

“You need to eat. You’re not thinking straight. Please.”

Maybe it was the hunger, or maybe it was him, but Claire finally sat next to the soup and picked up the spoon. Slowly, Jim walked to her and placed a hand on her knee.

“You’re making this even harder,” she said, looking at him with watery brown eyes. It was the first time she had met his eyes since the “dog” bite. How long had flecks of gold been floating in her irises? Since her first transformation? Since the bite? She hadn’t had them before.

“You’re going to be okay.”

“No, I won’t. All of Blinky’s books on lycanthropy say it’s incurable.”

“I don’t care. Come back with me. We’ll get through this together, my love. I promise.”

Her eyes widened before she began to sob into his shoulder. Jim realized that this was the first time he had told her that he loved her.

A/N: I swear that when I started writing this Claire wasn't suicidal. But then, when I went to reread (and edit) this fic it made me tear up, so I think it fits the narrative.

[memerataphor]

Ahsoka is an AroAce Queerplatonic Lesbian because I say so

[kingstealer]

he recognizes g'raha tia on sight, of course. a bit older, a bit wiser-sounding, a bit more covered in crystal the same blue as the tower, but underneath it all the bones of the allagan-blooded youth are visible.

he denies it--he would. and tchos doesn't have the heart to pry into a lie so flimsily constructed and held up as an unbreakable shield. he lets it stand. gives it time.

there are more important things to do anyway. so they end up colleagues, again. saving a world they aren't from but that belongs to the exarch, to the man who built a city from the bones of a scared (but not broken) people. a man who woke to a very different situation than be expected, but wielded the tower's might regardless.

but there are stolen moments, where that shield bends. any time the exarch mentions his old friend, his inspiration. and tchos recognizes the fondness in his voice for what it is (no longer idolization. an ideal, one that's here in the flesh now, and that scares him), and lets it lie. they visit the dwarves together, they share plans for the future on an outcropping in kholusia. tchos can't stifle the fond smile that time, or the thought that maybe there is still something here. if the shield, the hood, comes down.

which it does. brutally.

there isn't enough time to react before g'raha is torn away, tchos shattering from the inside out with rage and the sheer amount of Light in his bloodstream. something deep within his soul roils, gorges, but even that isn't enough to get him on his feet, to get him to stop coughing up light.

and the exarch is gone, but so is g'raha.

he gets him back--fights to the fading remnants of a long-dead civilization and the dying gasp of a man who's been tearing down worlds for so long he's forgotten exactly why.

and they're together, the catboys, but there's still so much to be done.

late night research and a few months of quiet yearning, of half-started conversations, does not a relationship make. but they know each other for equals now, even busy as they are, and there's an understanding--after this is over, when there's a break, they'll do this for real.

and then elidibus, clothed in the form of a long-dead hero, arrives.

and then, they're chasing him up the crystal tower, to end yet another ascian threat to this fragile, fragile peace.

i'll hold them off, the one who was and still is the exarch says. but rest assured you haven't seen the last of me.

and v'tchos grabs him by the robes and hauls him in. and kisses him.

i'll hold you to that, he says, and takes off up the steps, greatsword in hand.

elidibus is defeated, together, but at great cost--the exarch is now merely a statue. watching over his city.

but g'raha tia's story isn't done.

tchos is a maelstrom of energy, barely staying in the rising stones long enough to explain before throwing himself across the plains of mor dhona at breakneck speed.

perhaps leaving the soul vessel at the door to the tower would have been enough, and the tower would have done the rest. this doesn't even occur to v'tchos. he pushes the door open without stopping, not leaving until he can help raha stumble out of the tower back to the rising stones (his new home, as long as he needs it) and the scions.

he doesn't notice until later that one of his teal-green eyes has bled to allagan scarlet. aether, and souls, are often unknowable, as hard as we may try.

and finally, though there are still, always, many things to be done--these two catboys have time to just be.

(be gay, that is.)

[taxidermymaster]

【TAGS】

[georgiewhitmcre]

tag drop!

[talesofourworlds]

No one:

Not a soul:

Me, plotting bad end things with mathcs and also angst things with ervaurem:

[avictimofthejazz]

“I’m here- I’m here, now” (Mel to Street. Of course she impulsively put herself into danger to save him)

@timeguardians (Melody)

Street has been cold so long that he stopped noticing ages ago. Everything is ice… how that witch lives here is beyond him. At least it was when he had energy to ponder things. That faded a while ago too. Now all that exists around him is the cold. Cold, and a deep ache in all his muscles and bones. That came mostly from the bruises and fractures littering his body—no one can survive being thrown into walls without getting some souvenirs… and Morgana had thrown him into many walls and across the room just for the amusement of it. At least until she got bored. Then she kept him on ice, literally, and tried to drown him a few times. Even those cruelties bored her after a while, though, and she turned her attention to other things in her lair, leaving him to freeze. The turmoil beyond the ice wall barely catches his attention until something breaks through the ice, showering him with shards and chunks. Instinct overrules exhaustion, and he tucks his head under his arms to protect it. Noises that have been dulled for ages suddenly came into sharp focus. Someone that sounds like Harrelson is snapping orders, but the voice he hears the clearest and latches onto is Melody’s. Eyes flicking open, he squints at his friend. “What…” He blinks, pulling his thoughts back into order. Then he manages a tiny frown, “I guess your deal worked out then?” Too tired to spare more energy for the conversation, he decides that sitting up is the next logical step. Forcing half-frozen muscles into moving is a new problem, though. Futility pushing down on the ground with the palms of his hands,  he makes several half-hearted attempts to push himself into a sitting position before he sinks down again. “Jus… give me a minute…” he requests tiredly. He cannot remember the last time he ate… water came from the ice, but Morgana never worried about feeding someone she planned to kill. Being half-starved alongside frozen limbs is probably not helping him right now. No wonder he feels like a wobbly-legged kitten whenever he tries to move.  

[shininginyourlight]

JASKIER

[ravensilversea]

"You lost a great deal of blood." "I didn't lose it," I said. "I know exactly where it is." -Seanan McGuire, Night and Silence

[stxtic-scribbles]

ARES WRIGHT.

PRONOUNS: he/him.

AGE: 14.

CREATED FOR: penn zero: part time hero.

VERSES: main. spiderverse; e-42008.

DESCRIPTION: ares is THE LIGHTNING LIZARD. originally a creature from another dimension, he was brought to Middleburg by his current caretaker. part-time villain. lightning powers, glowy-ness, chameleon tail, sharp teeth & ears.

occasionally plays as THE KOMODO, a street-roaming vigilante.

TAG SOURCE(S): his PLAYLIST.

[paladinquest]

tag rehaul: medieval edition!

[sunsanniversaire]

﹒✸﹕THIS A TALE BY DAMIAN HARVEY… starred by nan and theo

Una voz conocida resuena desde el otro lado de la gruesa puerta de madera. Un color carmín enciende mis mejillas y me obligo a pararme derecho. Unos ojos verdes llenos de admiración me miran mientras las manos delicadas me acarician por los hombros.

— Hola, Nan. — Una sonrisa se asoma en la comisura de mi boca. Sus ojos se suavizan y mis dedos se impregnan de pintura, el alivio me va llenando e intento sonreír. Levanto la vista para encontrarme un par de ojos verdosos.

— Es un santuario. Un lugar para pensar o para sentir… El vacío que a veces es igual de cautivante.

— No pinto personas en general.

— Es como si se moviera.

— Son colores en un lienzo.

El pulgar y el índice se movieron cuidadosamente sobre la mejilla. Ensució la piel con figuras circulares.

— Creí que no pintabas personas.

— Eres mas que eso. — Enarcó una ceja al mirarla.

[sassmill]

I love the visible progression of my pintucks becoming more consistently spaced as I get used to the technique

[phoenixcoin]

❂⭃ TAG DUMP ⥷❂

donʼt ask me！ ask them！➻⌠ooc⌡

phoenixʼs firey fundament！➻⌠psa⌡

youʼll need to keep your wits about you ➻⌠rules⌡

theyʼre in cahoots！➻⌠dash⌡

and prove myself worthy of a place in your merry band！➻⌠promo⌡

one of the many treasures in my collection ➻⌠saved⌡

you have that same stubborn look as your father did ➻⌠my art⌡

they moved in ranks with a purpose ➻⌠memes⌡

i think i can manage that ➻⌠starter call⌡

will this suffice as a deposit？➻⌠inbox call⌡

we have much to catch up on，you and i ➻⌠plotting call⌡

my boy！➻⌠open⌡

but what of security？➻⌠closed⌡

i retreated to my countinghouse，and danced attendance upon the vicereine ➻⌠hc⌡

we represent one of the oldest and greatest trading houses of port isolde ➻⌠musings⌡

on the battlefield‚ i am but a single axe ➻⌠aesthetics⌡

forgive me for not being able to tell you more ➻⌠drabble⌡

for your trouble ➻⌠answer⌡

i shall expect you to regale me with the tales of all your adventures when next we meet！➻⌠reply⌡

tap a cask and stoke the ovens‚ for your favorite uncle is here！➻⌠ic⌡

only a fool would believe even half of the things you claim ➻⌠pre game verse⌡

had i the courage of my brother ➻⌠pre night of flame verse⌡

after what befell at phoenix gate ➻⌠main game verse⌡

i am proud to call you nephew ➻⌠post game verse⌡