doommetallovestory

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AND I LOOKED, AND BEHOLD A PALE HORSE: AND HIS NAME THAT SAT ON HIM WAS DEATH

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The eclectic guide to health, 1887

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*flirting* if you had to kill me how would you do it

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Tall House, Rodney Harvey, 2011

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Cannot STAND narratives which imply that if you've done bad things the only thing you can do to truly atone is sacrifice your life and die!!! What happened to dying is easy living is harder? What happened to forgiveness and redemption??? What happened to putting in the work to undo what has been done????? I'll kill someone.

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collection of posts for a very specific dynamic

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Penitent by Ben J

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April H.

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Fritz Schwimbeck (1889-1972) - Golem, Dunkle Gänge (Golem, Dark Corridors), 1916

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Proj. Golden Crescent - by Waqas Malik

“Great weight of the nothingness,

Like the yawning vacuum of silence,

Pulling you towards the shadows.”

—Vagabird

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My 2nd Monday post for Jamie

�� I can see Sullivan and Royston having a similar conversation as they head for the "city"

1000% sulliston vibes. They both are attached to the others crazy.

@tragedycoded 🙂

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the loop may be ended...

... but there was demand for a playlist, and the old one sucked.

While the 1872-73 timeline is mostly marked by power ballads (it's a love story) the rest of the songs are either straight-up d̷͍̼̒̍o̸̮͝ơ̵̻m̷͎̂ ̷̨̑̎m̵̦̮͝e̶̺͕̍̓ṱ̴̈̽a̸͖̎̍l̶̩̈́̂ or they're some flavor of experimental/noise/atmospheric black metal. Or they're strategically placed video game soundtracks that make me burst into tears bc I'm ridiculous, but prob sound out of place to an emotionally stable individual.

Anyway they match up with the chapter order until you get to "Litany of Desire," which covers chapters 10 + 11. After that it's [chapter number] -1.

Body Void and Xiu Xiu were thrown in for the somatic sound effect. I had to be careful which "meant to make you feel weird" songs I included; I may think it's funny to listen to ultra-low frequency tones high off my ass until I trigger my occipital neuralgia and puke, but that's a personal choice.

Rambling about the individual songs in Act 1 under the cut. Anyway. Tagging the DMLS folks, plus @astramachina and @sableglass and @words-after-midnight bc MUSIC.

@leahnardo-da-veggie @the-golden-comet @cowboybrunch @finickyfelix

@lychhiker-writes @wyked-ao3 @saturnine-saturneight

@gioiaalbanoart @davycoquette @zackprincebooks @jev-urisk

1) "The Bad Luck That Saved You From Something Worse": You hear that noise at the beginning? I hate it. It feels like feelers inside my skull. That's the feeling of restarting at the beginning of a time loop--something shitty happened and I have no clue what I was doing or what I'm supposed to do next. #hofercore

2) "The Parasite" - the first time I heard this song, Sullivan and Royston popped into my head.

Then Royston started bitching me out because it wasn't his fault they were here and Sullivan wasn't dead and they weren't supposed to be here and behbehbehbehbeh.

3) "No One Like You": Not just a '80s song because Jamie is a millennial. No no. There's a reason I put this as The Song for the beginning of the bar fight loop (there are loops within loops bc I love myself. Twine loves this too.)

Each time they go it gets harder bc Sullivan keeps forgetting everything lol.

4) "High Plains Eulogy": This is the first Royston POV chapter and he has eyeballs. He realizes he's fucked up. IDK if he realizes there was literally nothing he could do to get here any sooner. (I'm willing to give him this much: Sullivan being pissed off and avoiding returning his letters fucks the run every single time it happens.) This is the first of many "Royston is a visual learner" chapters.

5) "Psalm III - Olam Teshuvah": You hear the dripping and screaming in the beginning? I think I'm being clever and warning you what's going to happen with Martin, who is just standing there in a catatonic stupor.

6) "Ace of Spades": This was, at the time, the most ridiculous thing I'd ever written. It is 100% Royston's fault the shootout happened in the first place, let alone escalated to the degree that Sullivan couldn't reel it in. Sullivan would have compared it to bullriding, if he'd "ever partaken in such a foolish activity."

7) "Ashen Era": Johnson and White are explaining the tree to Sullivan. I'm warning you about the tree with this song.

8) "This One Has No Heart": I mean… [gestures at Martin; gestures at Royston] … they're both fucked.

9) "Hysteria":

Director's Commentary moment, are you ready?

In the prologue, Hofer's ears start ringing. This is because there was a previous run where he caught a bullet in the neck and fucking died. (Tinnitus is a warning you're about to do the same stupid shit that got you killed previously. Sullivan doesn't really get that bc he keeps finding new exciting ways to die.)

When Hofer got shot in the neck, that restarted the loop--Sullivan dies in that cabin if Hofer doesn't treat his leg. So as far as Royston was concerned, he was just in the train, shot full of the Delilah Special, and now he's opening his eyes and Sullivan is fine and he doesn't know if Sullivan remembers/hates him/etc. and he can't fly out of bed all dramatic like he wants to bc he literally has no control over his skeletal muscles (thanks, hemlock and whatever else Delilah hit him with.)

If anyone has any interest in seeing an entire post like this a) you're crazy and b) I would be more than happy to do one with more effort/spoilers.

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friday kiss: the beach episode.

I said I was going to do it and I did it and then @the-golden-comet [x] and @wyked-ao3 [x] tagged me.

This is for the Sofer shippers.

We're going back to 1866, when Hofer took Sullivan to the beach bc he'd never seen the ocean prior to Gettysburg.

This isn't canon, but it can be. I got it down around 600 words.

In the dark, the fire served as a beacon for them. Down the beach, the lighthouse shone, its lens pushing illumination hundreds of meters into the dark water, a warning and a welcome. The last of the carried voices had died off before dusk. Night had fallen, and they were alone, and Hofer would not blame the drink for what he did next. "Cole." Out of breath from trudging through water, over sand, he reached for his best friend's hand, stealing him from the warmth of the fire and the promise of drink and food. "Wait a minute." Sullivan responded to the grip on his fingers. He did not wrench his hand away, as Hofer suspected--worried--he might. His fingers closed around Hofer's, brackets forming a hinge. Glittering eyes curious, and patient. "Aye?" he asked. Both men's chests sawed for air as water dripped from their hair. Starlight caught the rivulets making their way between Sullivan's pectoral muscles, down his sternum and into the valley of his belly. In the low light, that frown of his was curious, and cautious, but not concerned. Before he could think of a reason not to say it, Hofer said, "I'm going to kiss you." Sullivan's nostrils flared. "Is that acceptable?" Hofer pressed. "I'll not force it upon you." Must have felt as if time had ceased its perpetual movement. Sullivan stared, and breathed, and let Hofer wonder what he was thinking. Didn't have to wonder. Hofer all but heard it. I gotta be dreamin'. But Sullivan would have told him if he'd rather he didn't. He'd have laughed and tried to extricate himself from the situation leaving Hofer as much of his dignity intact as possible. Sullivan didn't want to talk. He'd wanted this for years. He'd taught himself to stop wanting this. Later, Hofer would tell him, whiskey fueling his honesty, that he'd never given the matter of laying with another man any consideration, serious or otherwise, before he met Sullivan. Couldn't think about it after, because it could never be. Like a brother, Hofer loved him. If he couldn't take him as a lover, he could keep him as a brother. In this moment, Sullivan cut him off by surging forward, damp sand slowing him. Hofer caught him, and pulled him closer. Had Sullivan experience, he would be on Hofer already. He didn't need permission. He needed instructions. Hofer grasped the back of Sullivan's neck, his waist, as he did what he could never admit to wanting. As he sank into that wanting, his lips to Sullivan's, Sullivan's parting, goose-pimpled flesh melting on the stove. Taste of blood, and salt, and whiskey. Like every victory Hofer had never allowed himself to savor, for how high the cost had been. The moan Sullivan loosed was a rallying cry. Forward, it said. More. Please. When Hofer opened his eyes, Sullivan was looking up into his. The muscles between their legs hotter than the coals in the fire behind them as they unfurled. He looked as if he would swoon, were Hofer not holding him so tightly. "You ain't forcin' nothin'," came Sullivan's response in a stolen-breath murmur. They had already supped. With the beach empty, and the crescent moon occluded by the lighthouse's brilliance, they took handfuls of each other, mouthfuls, lungfuls. He tasted like forever. He tasted like a secret he would have to take to his grave. They could never speak of this, once it was over. This was all they had to last them for the rest of their lives. They both knew this. This would never happen again. They feasted.

Tag! (Or CHECK THIS SHIT OUT if you don't have a kiss ready. No pressure <3 )

@lychhiker-writes @cowboybrunch @saturnine-saturneight @ashfordlabs @autism-purgatory

@noblebs @aintgonnatakethis @the-golden-comet @asablehart @mauvecatfic

@leahnardo-da-veggie @sableglass @gioiaalbanoart @words-after-midnight

@lavender-bloom @jev-urisk @wyked-ao3

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Found more Royston and Sullivan vibes on Pinterest again lol @tragedycoded