#The Door
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thewoims · 2 days ago
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Go behind the white door.
Facebooks AI is something else
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Meta, you have to stop saying such odd shit
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flowerytale · 11 months ago
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Margaret Atwood, from ‘January’, The Door (2007)
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balasha7sanbardo · 1 year ago
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please please please PLEASE do me a favor and unfollow me if you have a problem with me dump posting about palestine or if you’re pro-israel/a zionist or neutral about what’s going on. I’m not gonna stop and you have no place here.
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thewordfortheday · 7 months ago
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I am the door. If anyone enters by Me, he will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture. (John 10:9)
Jesus claimed to be the Good Shepherd but He also claimed to be the Door- the way through which He leads every one of His sheep into the presence, blessing and salvation of God. Jesus said in John 14:6,“ I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.” Yes, without Jesus it is impossible to go to God. He is the Door, He is the only way to heaven.
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fortuosnapelovespetrichor · 6 months ago
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The Door 2011
Tobias Menzies as "Man with the Wings of a Swan"
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shefightslikeagirl · 2 months ago
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From the Archives (27/?) ↳ The Door Tour, 2011
📸: Me! @shefightslikeagirl
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eira-draws · 2 months ago
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The Distortion! Love them so fucking much!
Initially it was just gonna be Helen as a warm up and we all know how that goes
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bakedbakermom · 3 months ago
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The Door - Part Two (ao3)
yet more cancer arc angst // rated T // 1k tagging @today-in-fic
It happens three more times on three more cases in three more towns, no matter how many alarms she sets or how loudly she sets them. Mulder’s touch on her hair, her throat, dragging her up through the heavy clouds of sleep until she wakes just in time to catch the last dregs of agony on his face before he has fully tucked them away.
y'all i am going Through It today and needed to make myself cry so here you go.
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radioalpes · 7 months ago
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r&b r&b/soul pop New York
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wangmiao · 7 months ago
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Jiang Wu as Cheng Tianle & Li Naiwen as Maolü in 完美有多美 | The Door (2017)
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frycekseuthanasia · 11 months ago
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Michael really IS slayy
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flowerytale · 1 year ago
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Margaret Atwood, from ‘The Last Rational Man’, The Door (2007)
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scribbleseas · 1 year ago
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an indignant pawn story: the door
Description: Taking place hours after the events of The Indignant Pawn, Ciel Phantomhive anxiously awaits an update from the room in front of him.
Warnings: extreme grief, violence, mentions of blood, crying, regrets, laughing at really inappropriate times, just really really sad, angst & no comfort.
Author’s Note: Hi, Everyone!
For those of you who might be seeing my work for the first time, this is a spinoff short from my first complete fan fiction: The Indignant Pawn! I suggest checking it out if you are interested in a hitwoman/runaway royalty!reader x Ciel Phantomhive, a lot of deception, fierce enemies to lovers, and a couple that will fight the world for each other. If that sounds cool to you, I highly suggest heading over to the masterlist linked below before you read this.
Anyway, I hope you like this! Even though it’s a little depressing, lol. In all fairness, an explanation was asked of me. I work for ya’ll.
Happy Reading!
Stay Alive,
Dan
THE INDIGNANT PAWN MASTERLIST
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MAY 13TH, 1895
SCHLESWIG-HOLSTEIN, GERMANY
For the first time in eight years, tears ran down Ciel Phantomhive’s cheeks. His throat was raw. His nose was running. A tumultuous combination of rage and grief tore at his heart as it beat in his chest. It worked overtime. His lungs worked overtime as his breaths came in ragged inhales, forcing air in, forcing air out. A forming headache throbbed in his temples.
Crying changes nothing, he reminded himself. Crying wouldn’t repair the damage in Y/n’s chest. Crying wouldn’t have stopped the bullet that was meant for him— it was meant for him. There was no denying it.
And that’s what made his guilt gnaw at him. He should have been bleeding. Dying. It was his adversary, his bullet, and his inaction that allowed Y/n to get shot.
“My Lord,” Sebastian started, only for Ciel to silence him with a glance before fixating his stare on the door. Don’t you dare speak to me, you traitor.
“At the very least, you should change, sir,” Sebastian was the only one to speak in the waiting room. Everyone else sat in silence, save for Lizzie’s sniffling. The room smelled of antiseptic and it was cold, but nobody complained. Nobody moved.
Ciel ignored the suggestion. He stared ahead at the door separating him from the operating room. From Y/n. If he could trade his place for hers, he would. It should have been him. It should have been. What was Y/n thinking?
She wasn’t thinking. She was selfless, protecting him on instinct.
She was selfless….And the world was cruel.
She didn’t deserve this.
He did. He should have protected her on instinct— but his weren’t nearly as swift as hers. It hurt to admit, but there was no other explanation.
“Ciel, he’s right,” Lizzie tried. “Your clothes are…” she said weekly, unsure of how to remind Ciel that he was covered in Y/n’s blood; and that his wedding suit was soiled with the bride’s blood. There was even a red tint on his hands, the sick smell of iron on them, no matter how Lizzie tried to clean them off for him. He didn’t care about his hands or his clothing.
Y/n was likely dying. How could he think to change when he could lose her?
After she lost consciousness, the medic arrived and did all he could to stabilize her before there was no choice but to transfer her to the nearest hospital for emergency surgery. As the medical field expanded (especially in Germany), surgeons liked to make teaching lectures out of every surgery. However given the high-profile victim and near-impossible condition Marie was in, the hospital ensured her procedure was private.
To them, it would be Princess Marie of Schleswig-Holstein dying. Only the real Marie had already been dead for months before then!
The irony made the corner of his mouth twitch, and a heartbroken cackle threatened to rip out of his sore throat before Lizzie said his name again, sobering him
“…Ciel?”
“Elizabeth. Honestly,” Ciel warned flatly. The oak door separating the waiting room from the sterile operating room was beginning to antagonize him. By now, Ciel committed most of its knots, age lines, indents— even the tarnish on the brass knob. He detested that door. He wanted to kick it off its hinges…almost as much as he wanted to kick his demon’s head off his shoulders. Stomp on the severed head. That. Deceitful. Bastard.
He needed to punish that wretch for utterly disobeying his order. They had a bloody contract for a bloody reason, did they not?
“I’m sorry, Ciel,” Lizzie took a sharp inhale, chastened. She pursed her lips and released them. Her wary eyes lingered on him for a beat longer, concerned for him. She watched him strike Sebastian so hard that his knuckles started bleeding. And then, Ciel spent half the carriage ride laughing hysterically at her side. He’d laughed until his sides hurt and his cheeks pinched. He was laughing at the situational irony while his tears grieved its fallout. After all, Y/n only came into his life because she was tasked with killing him! And she was on a surgery table because she wanted to save his life!
Not to mention, she was sure Mariana would sabotage them. She was convinced. Ciel had reassured her in vain.
Herr intuition was perfect. Diego even warned them. They should have called off the wedding. The princess should never have to save the Earl— it was an affront to those childish tales she loved so much. It was a torture to be saved. It hurt less to be the martyr because they aren’t responsible for toiling in the changed world without them.
Ciel looked back to the door. Nothing lasts forever.
Someone you love is someone you can lose, Ciel recalled.“Someone I love could be someone I lost…” he mumbled in extension of the thought, tensing when he realized he spoke the latter aloud.
“I know, Ciel, but you should have something to eat, at least. Or have some water, or tea. You’ve been standing there for hours. Sit,” Ciel’s cousin reminded him, but he didn’t dignify it with a response. He couldn’t sit and eat. He wouldn’t.
“My Lord, I have an update…” the lead surgeon shouldered through the operating room’s door and into the waiting room. His face was marred with exhaustion, having performed a surgery so late into the night and without a break.
Ciel held his breath.
Please be alive, Y/n. I need you.
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pale-grunge-dark · 2 years ago
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moiraineswife · 1 year ago
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Lan and Moiraine: "Door"
1x06 / 2x01 / 2x01
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