#another tag game upon thee
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Get to Know Me
thanks for the tag @twosides--samecoin, sorry for such a late response ;w;
Relationship: oh dear. I uh,,, was in a qpr? No idea if we’re still a thing or not but,,, mostly on my own at the moment (sad violin sounds)
Favorite Colour: ppppppppppft I always try to convince myself its forest green but the reality is that everything I own, literally, is some shade of blue. Think my favorite has to be navy blue.
Song Stuck in Your Head: Hand Me My Shovel, I’m Going In! - Will Wood and the Tapeworms my brain really likes looping it
Favourite Food: I like a wide range of foods despite being oversensitive to flavor- my favorite these days is probably oven-baked spaghetti
Last Song Played: listening to my studying/work playlist so uh,,,, The Only Thing I Know For Real - METAL GEAR RISING REVENGEANCE lmao
Dream Trip: oh god uh... hm... I think I might actually die if I were to ever do a whale watch with scientists up north, probably somewhere in Canada. I love orcas and whales and really wish I went into marine biology. I also have been thinking of doing a writing vacation when things settle down- maybe somewhere in British Columbia on a lake in a small cozy cabin. I also want to visit Japan, Ireland, Sweden, and London some day for various reasons.
Last Thing I Googled:
I was tagged in another game where the previous person colored some text and I........... I have no idea how to do that. And refuse to switch to HTML lol (spoiler: I never figured out how to) Tagging: uuuuuuuughhhfhh okay well I dunno who’s done this and who hasn’t so woe @iam-jacks-redacted-information @wastelandhell and @,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
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whoever wants to join haha :)
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Post ending / rescue AU / recovering Curly is everything to me, so I’m making a list of other people’s posts that feature him. (The links will connect to a reblog of them in case anything ever happens to the original post)
If anyone ever see’s posts like these ones, PLEASE tag me in a reblog!! All posts are welcome, not just art!
Please note that I don’t decide what to add to this list based on shipping, opinions on the metaphors in the game, the accuracy of burn scars, the morality of Curly, or anything else that causes discourse in the fandom. I just add any posts that I come across that include Curly recovering from his injuries in any way. Prosthetics, wheelchair, wig, crutches, It just needs to have him in better shape than when he first got injured.
No NSFW
(Also this post is edited to add new ones when I find them)
Rehabilitated Curly
Party with no Jimmy
Stand around in medbay party (Idk if this counts, but he has prosthetics so I'm saying it does)
Happy abortion!
Post-ending speculation (text)
20 years later (I AM NOT WORTHY TO LOOK UPON THIS WITH MY MERE MORTAL EYES)
ANYA’S GRADUATION DAY
Post ending
Rescue/Recovery AU
My own post! (text)
Aftermath Curly
Good ending
Best way to approach captain’s disability?
A little sketch
They care
“I wouldn’t want to frighten her”
Anya doesn’t quite overdose
They’re safe
Guys rate my fanart
WWI face prosthetics
Less fucked up Curly AU
Fix-it type AU
Silly recovering time
Curly got some gifts for his b-day
Imagine Curly survived (twitter)
Curly with a service dog
I’m not a dog and you’re not a mare
Drawing the dentalcare crew (does this count?)
The quality will not be questioned
Fix-it AU
Want to make Curly some cool new mechanical hands so he can strangle Jimmy
One can dream
He’s got a wig now
Happy ending where they all survive (devianart)
It hurt my heart (twitter)
God forbid I get sick (translated?)
This might be controversial but… (text)
Let’s get you out of the house!
Cyberpunk AU
Cartoons with breakfast
Old-school surgeries (text)
Post-ending fic prompt (text)
Post-rescue AU curlyana
Post-rescue curlyana part two
Why is this goddamn white boy so hard to draw?
Captain stop infodumping the baby
Maybe never forgive
Draw Captain Curly having a prosthetic limb
Curly from Mouthwashing (good ending)
This is how I imagine Curly post OP
whats the worse fate, whatd be better for the tulpar crew
Wip
🐈
Mouthwashing AU (Reddit)
Curly if he survives (Reddit)
My own art
I’ll give him smoochies, prosthetics, and skin grafts
Art dump time✨
Hoppin on da trendin train
The crew built curly a mechanical hand
How to give Captain Curly a voice (idk if this technically counts, but it’s a disability aid so I will)
Doodle of the Tulpar crew post-rescue!
New hyperfixation just dropped
Hi Tumblr. Funny seeing you here
Another rehabilitated Curly
Who up washing they mouth rn
Don’t use the dog buttons (text)
Haunted part one and two
Prosthetics
AU were someone saves them
Mouthwashing doodles
A New Ladder-Reader x Curly (I’ll add the original art videos when I can) (also I didnt read it. if someone did read it, please let me know if it’s SFW)
I know he always have his headphones on
More rehabilitated Curly✨
You guys like this right
Anya, what’s it like working as a medic on a spaceship?
This is how we can still get the good ending
“I’m sorry Anya”
More cringe mouthwashing art be upon thee
Curly’s happy (and recovering) ending
Writing an AU of mouthwashing where the crew survives
Most people seem to be giving him prosthetics…
Doing a bit of study
2
Ladonb Kokosa (TikTok account, LOTS of great videos )
Giving the mouthwashing characters what they deserve (TikTok)
Zest for life
How I think the Tulpar crew would make YT videos
Edit: I am no longer seeking out these posts, and new ones will only be added if I’m tagged or such
#mouthwashing#mouthwashing AU#Captain Curly#recovered Curly#healing curly#healing curly mouthwashing#mouthwashing curly#curly mouthwashing#recovering curly#recovering curly mouthwashing
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Bride of Discord Rewritten Chapter 5: The Dilemma
Read the tags for important notes.
"We're not really going to give into his demands, are we?" Rarity asked.
They had left the throne room to continue their meeting in the map room. A large mahogany slab sat vacant in the middle of the vast room. Upon it were etchings of names, all of which belonged to some territory or another. Certain points of the map, such as rivers or oceans glowed bright reddish-orange like embers. The lands were raised in accordance to the elevation of the real life counterpart.
"We may not have a choice," Twilight said. "Discord thought this out very well. I need my horn to power the Elements, but the only way I can get it back is if we don't use the Elements to stop him. And, the everfree forest houses many creatures, and zecora lives there!
"What about the third deal?" Applejack inquired.
She sighed. "Discord knows how desperate we are to get the princesses back."
"But we can't just hand some pony over to be his wife!" Rarity exclaimed. "We might as well be taking away her rights! Sacrificing her!"
"He said his bride has to go willingly. I think we should announce this to the citizens and see if any pony is willing to make such a sacrifice."
Fluttershy stood practically untethered to the other's words that hung overhead. Discord, the subject of her very torment held her. She didn't feel as if she had been violated, but the very nerve made her want to scream. She told herself she was being paranoid, but if that was the case, why did he seem to single her out?
"We should at least accept the terms of the first two," Twilight decided. "If I had my magic, we could be able to find another solution, and it would be easier to think if there weren't pigs flying outside."
Every pony nodded in agreement.
"What about Cadence?" Shining Armor asked. "And our daughter?"
"I want her back too, shining armor." his sister assured him. He ruffled her mane.
"I don't like the idea either, but…Discord has a point. Instead of losing four, we would only lose one. And…I don't know how long Cadence will last."
"She's strong. No matter what her conditions, she's always been able to pull through. Celestia and Luna will be strong too. Wherever they are, I'm sure they are holding out. Anyways, discord would never... Kill them. That's not chaos, thats maniacal!"
They all stood and wondered if any of this was really happening.
"Thee wanteth to receiveth did marry?!" Luna scoffed after Discord had told them his plan. "Who is't in the w'rld wouldst wanteth to marryeth thee?!"
"drop it Luna he doesn't care."
"why would anypony willingly marry thee?"
"Go ahead, laugh!" Discord said, rolling his eyes. "Just thought you would want to know what your freedoms going to cost."
"You will never get away with this, Discord!" Celestia bellowed. "Tartarus is non-discriminatory."
"Yes, yes. The whole 'you will never get away this' speech. I will respond with the usual comeback: 'oh, but I will!' Anyone up for a game of eternal mahjong? It needs four ponies!
She growled and lashed her hooves through the bars of the cage. Discord simply laughed.
"Oh, you three are just too amusing! Either of you willing to save the others and accept my proposal?"
Luna simply remarked, "I doth not think that the deal counts if it's true thee keeps a princess."
"And I'm already married, creep!" Cadence barked.
"I never been the type to break up a happy home." Discord said innocently.
A voice called from outside the cave. "Discord!"
The draconequus turned. "Oh, would you look at that? Sorry to leave you, girls, but I have a meeting."
With a wave of his paw, the cage vanished and he went to meet his visitor, leaving only a stack of cards in his wake.
"so do you guys know how to play pitty pat?
Twilight Sparkle and her five companions were standing at the entrance.
"Ah, my old friends! Have you made your decision already?"
"Yes," Twilight said defiantly.
She turned her head and nodded. Spike emerged from behind her, bearing a jewel encrusted case. He hesitantly stepped forward and placed the box in front of the draconequus.
"We accept your terms and promise never to use our Elements of Harmony against you. And to show you that we are serious about this…"
Spike opened the case to reveal the five necklaces and crown inside. Discord raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"Appreciate the gesture, but keep them. I don't want those things anywhere near me."
He placed them on the ground and prodded them with his hoof.
"What about my piece of land?"
"The castle ruins in the Everfree forest," Twilight stated. "You may do with them what you like. Stay away from zecora's house."
"And no pony will disturb me?"
"No pony, as long as you confine your mischief within that area."
Discord clapped his hands. "Excellent! But…who's the lucky mare I'm marrying?"
Twilight glanced away.
"Well?"
"If you think we're going to send some pony to marry the likes of you…"
"You want your princesses back, you give me what I want!" He sighed. "But I am a creature of my word."
He snapped his fingers, blinding every pony with a white flash. When the light was gone, Twilight's horn was back on her head and the chaos from outside had ceased.
"I have all the time in the world to wait," Discord said nonchalantly. "The princesses, however, only have one set of cards.
"We'll give you anything!" Twilight pleaded. "Just please, don't hurt them!"
"I told you. When my demands are met, they go free! Any lucky ladies?"
Spike piped up. "Wait, who're you talking to?"
"Any of you. I don't care which one, but if some pony doesn't come forward soon, I will just have to make the decision myself. How about I give you…?" He tapped his chin. "Three days?"
"Isn't there anything else you want?" Twilight asked.
"Look, it's a bride or no deal! Got that?"
"But…"
"I think we're done here."
He zapped himself out of the cave, leaving the distressed ponies behind.
"He wouldn't accept anything else?" Shining Armor asked.
"He'll take a bride and nothing but," Twilight replied solemnly.
They had announced Discord's request to Canterlot that morning. So far, no pony was willing to accept such a search fate. It had 2 moons already.
"soooo, now what?" Applejack wondered.
Twilight sighed. She sat on a large, weighted isopod plush the size of a twin mattress. "No elements, no bargains, no haggling, there's nothing we can do!"
"do you think we should tell some people from other territories? I know there's gotta be some freaks out there!" Rainbow suggested.
"we can't, it'd take too long. Besides, without the princesses, the suna and moon can't rise. That'll seriously mess up the whole equestria! We could be in eternal darkness! Our crops and hay will never grow! Ponies can't handle that much cold!"
"What about you?" Sweetie Belle asked. "Aren't you the princess now?"
"hopefully only for now! I can't raise the sun! Do you know how powerful you have to be to accomplish that?! I just…I just…"
Tears streamed down her cheeks. Shining Armor put an assuring hoof on her. The ponies huddled together in a weighted hug. The pressure seemed to calm her down.
"Don't worry. We'll get them back. We'll get them all back. We just have to solve this..." He looked toward the others. "I know no pony wants to spend eternity with that…that monster, but we got to think…"
"I should go."
Every pony stared at Twilight.
"This all happened while Equestria was under my rule. I should put the well-being of my subjects before myself."
"I won't allow it!" her brother insisted..
"But Cadence…"
"Would not stand for it. I want her back as much as you do, but I don't want to lose my little sister in the process."
"For the sake of my friends," Rarity declared, "I believe I should go."
"No!" Sweetie Belle cried, hanging onto her leg. "I need you, big sister! And what'll Mom and Dad say?"
Applejack took off her hat. "I should go."
"Don't even think about it!" search Apple Bloom commanded.
"Me then?" Rainbow questioned.
A desperate hug from Scootaloo dismissed the idea.
Applejack and rarity looked at rainbow, then each other, as rainbow looked at both. Not one of them would let this happen to the other.
"What about me?" Pinkie asked seriously, which was out of character for her. "I mean I already like his party attitude!"
"anything other than that?... Exactly." Rarity muttered.
As the others argued, Fluttershy dealt with an internal argument of her own. She did not dare say her thoughts aloud, knowing her friends would just dismiss them. They all had reasons for staying behind: responsibilities, family. What did she have? There were her animals and friends, but what happiness would she bring them if they were to live in darkness for the rest of their lives? What happiness would she bring them if she left?
Every pony quieted down as Applejack leapt onto the chart table. "Look, it's been a long night for all of us. I say we get some sleep and see what c'n' be done tomorrow."
They all agreed and retired to their rooms.
The claws of the larger creature ran through her mane again. She felt every single knot pulled on. Every leaf torn in half. She felt the. Claw graze her thick scalp ever so slightly, drawing across like a bow on a viola. Every strike playing a haunting chord.
"Why won't you go away?" she squeaked.
Her captor's cackle echoed in the darkness. "My dear, don't you understand? I'm in your mind because you keep me here."
"Well, I don't want you here! Go away!"
He chuckled and soon his face was inches away from hers. "What are you waiting for, my dear? You know what you have to do. You know I favor you over the others. So do it."
"No!" She tried to struggle out of his grasp. "I don't…I don't…"
He whispered into her ear. "If you don't do it, who will?"
Fluttershy woke with a start. She put her hoof to her head and whimpered. I can't do it, she thought. I just can't! What will the others think? Still, no matter what she did, all she thought about was him.
She could not go back to sleep, so she went down to the kitchen to get a snack. She screamed when she bumped into someone, causing them to fall and drop a tray of food.
"Hwhat n' tarnation? Fluttershy?"
The pegasus squinted at the pony on the floor and gasped. "Oh, Applejack, I'm so sorry! You startled me."
The southern pony rubbed her head as she got up. "It's okay. I'm guessin' you couldn't sleep either, huh?" She shook her head. "Nightmare again?"
She nodded. "It was different this time. He spoke to me. He was…he was…" she trembled, but found herself unable to form tears
"Calm down. Tell you what. After I clean this up, I'll make us both some apples and peanut butter. Sound good?"
Fluttershy sniffed and nodded with a smile. As they ate, she told Applejack about her dream. Her friend listened intently, while still having trouble cutting things with just a knife and her hooves.
"You're lettin' his threat on the princesses get to you. Don't worry. We'll figure somethin' out."
The pegasus looked down at her hooves. "Applejack, can I tell you a secret?" Her face was vacant and terrified.
The cowgirl sighed. "Fluttershy, you know how bad I am at keepin' secrets. What With me bein' the Element of Honesty and all, I'm a terrible liar."
"You don't have to lie. Just don't mention it to any pony."
"Okay, but…why me?"
"Well, it's a very shocking secret. Twilight would be against it, Rarity would overreact, Rainbow Dash would tell me it's a bad idea and Pinkie Pie would throw a huge bash... Actually that last one doesn't sound too bad."
"Alright, I get it. So what's this secret?"
"First, you've got to promise not to tell any pony, and not to freak out."
"I promise."
"Pinkie Promise?"
She sighed. "Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye."
Fluttershy glanced around and then gestured for her to come closer.
"I'm...thinking of…" The rest was inaudible.
"Come again?"
"I'm…" This time was quieter.
"Didn't catch that one shug."
"I'm thinking of going with Discord!" she shouted.
Applejack choked on her apple. "What?!"
"You said you wouldn't freak out!"
"I had no idea you were…!" Then she stopped and took a breath. "Anyhow, I made a promise. I promised I wouldn't. But still! How could you even consider goin' with that monster?!"
"If I don't go, who will?"
"Fluttershy, do you hear yourself?!"
"We need Princesses Celestia and Luna to bring day and night and Cadence is with foal. Discord won't let them go unless some pony takes their place. I think that pony should be me."
"No, you shouldn't! You can't! I'd rather go instead of you!"
"But you have your family to take care of, and the orphans, they look up to you. Twilight has her crown and Shining Armor, Rarity has her shop and Sweetie Belle, Rainbow Dash is a Wonderbolt, and Pinkie Pie has her job at Sugar Cube Corner and to make every pony smile. I have no pony, no purpose."
"What are you talkin' about? Of course you have a purpose! The animals back in Ponyville depend on you! Your friend need you! Ponyville would be so much more dull without you!"
"Some pony else can take care of them."
"And don't think you ain't got no pony!" She put a hoof around her. "You've got a lot of friends who would be heartbroken if you left!"
She blushes and couldnt help her faceut suppose no pony agrees to marry Discord? Would all the ponies and animals be better off then?"
Applejack paused. "Well…I…"
"What if my dreams are a sign? What if this is my fate?"
"Fluttershy, your search fate is not to be unhappy for the rest of your life tied to that creature!"
"Why not?!" she snapped. "Can't you see that no matter what I'll choose, I'll always be unhappy?!"
Silence hung over them like thick cobwebs.
...
"You don't really believe that, do you?"
The pegasus buried her face in her hooves. "I don't know! I just don't know!"
Applejack patted her on the back. "I think we should talk to Twilight."
Her head shot up. "She's stressed enough as is!"
Applejack mumbled something somewhat unintelligible through her thick accent. Fluttershy comforted her.
"fluttershy, I'm gonna try'n stop you. Don't let me. I want you to do what'cha think'll give you purpose.
At this very moment, at the utterance of the last word, another pony miles away received an invitation of visitation from another. Beyond all the chaos, there rose collaboration.
Kimono stepped towards Zecora's hut, eager to discuss the recent events with her long time friend from afar.
#KIMONO AND ZERCORA IN THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL NOT BE THE “ WISE ALL-KNOWING COLORED CHARACTERS”#mlp#mlp fim#my little pony#bride of discord#bride of discord rewritten#brony#fanfiction#mlp friendship is magic#discord#pinkie pie#applejack#rainbow dash#fluttershy#fluttercord#twilight sparkle#rarity#mane 6#kimono mlp#zecora
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post 3-5 songs that remind you of your muse. repost, don’t reblog.
Jin Edition™
1. Metallica - The Unforgiven
what i've felt, what i've known \\ never shined through in what i've shown \\ never be, never see \\ won't see what might have been \\ never free, never me \\ so i dub thee "unforgiven" \\ he tries to please them all, this bitter man he is \\ throughout his life the same, he's battled constantly \\ this fight he cannot win, a tired man they see no longer cares \\ the old man then prepares to die regretfully \\ that old man here is me, yeah
2. Brand New - 451
i'm awake, there's no part to play \\ drinking drano, smoking grass, one under the pass \\ what we saw in the woods that day, repeat 60 cycle delay \\ swallow the pitch that flows from the earth \\ soft spot, lightning rod, my paint is peeling \\ a million suns won't fill you up if you can't see the wine flowing over your cup \\ last thread, dancing dead, one more time with feeling \\ pass the plate and you sit back down \\ go back to your hole in the woods under ground
3. Foo Fighters - All My Life
all my life, i've been searchin' for somethin' \\ somethin' never comes, never leads to nothin' \\ nothin' satisfies, but i'm gettin' close \\ closer to the prize at the end of the rope \\ all night long, i dream of the day when it comes around, then it's taken away \\ leaves me with the feelin' that i feel the most \\ feel it come to life when i see your ghost \\ and if i give it a twist \\ somethin' to hold when i lose my grip \\ will i find somethin' in there? \\ to give me just what i need? \\ another reason to bleed, one by one, hidden up my sleeve
4. My Chemical Romance - Foundations of Decay
see the man who stands upon the hill, he dreams of all the battles won \\ but fate had left its scars upon his face, with all the damage they had done \\ and so time with age it turns the page \\ let the flesh submit itself to gravity \\ let our bodies lay, mark our hearts with shame \\ let our blood in vain, you find god in pain \\ now, if your convictions were a passing faith, may your ashes feed the river in the morning rays \\ and as the vermin crawls, we lay in the foundations of decay
5. Taking Back Sunday - Bullet With Butterfly Wings
the world is a vampire, sent to drain \\ secret destroyers, hold you up to the flames \\ and what do i get, for my pain? \\ betrayed desires, and a piece of the game \\ even though I know - i suppose i'll show all my cool and cold - like old job \\ despite all my rage i am still just a rat in a cage \\ someone will say what is lost can never be saved
*. Honorable Mention - Chevelle - The Red (i mean how couldn't i list it, its literally the song on his character page lmao)
they say 'freak', when you're singled out \\ the red, well, it filters through \\ so lay down, the threat is real \\ when his sight goes red again \\ seeing red again \\ this change he won't contain
tagged by: @inun4ki TYSM FRIEND!! GOOD SHIT tagging: @glacialsin (or do i tag @mementohub ??) and uhhh tbh whoever wants to do this and actually read this far down go right ahead SDFHJGJGHSDFJSDGHFGHJDSFSDGHJ
#headcanons: jin#jin: dash memes#//i think i did a meme like this for jin a lonnnnnggg time ago but its okay its been a while and i like music memes#//i live for music and how it connects to shit#//SFJHSGDGDSHSGHJ#//but okay off to bed with me i spent way too much time on this tonight fSDFDSGH
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hey there. i'm another anonymous author on ao3 who's doing the same thing you are, sort of, in the sense that i posted a fic about the milkman under the anon label to keep it separate from other things. i do that for a lot of fics actually, but i digress. (i swear i use proper capitalization in them, lol.)
i just wanted to pop in here and just tell you how enthralling your writing is. like, seriously. it's kind of ridiculous how much i enjoy your prose—it reminds me of how i feel whenever i crack open the hannibal fandom tag. despite writing a fic in the category, i don't even simp for the milkman, and yet i tore through all of your fics in the collection in a matter of hours.
i dunno. i just felt like you deserved to know that you're doing really, really well, and you've gotten me invested in a series about a character and doppel and reader that generally speaking, i treat more as a facilitator for crazy introspective angst in my own work. your doppel POV and francis POV fics were so good that, despite not checking the series on the first, i legitimately recognized the style blind. then bookmarked the whole thing. i love how literally nobody in the series is 'normal'. i love how you write the insert character as attentive, focused, but human. i love how you write francis' apathy as a person who had no choice but to get used to seeing faces in a stagnant yet revolving door. i love how you write the doppelgänger, and the irrationality of a creature that only knows love as hunger.
you're killing it, is what i'm getting at. i hope you keep chugging along, my friend. this is what the medium is made for.
I am at a loss for words for your words which I wish to put up in a frame and smile at it forever. I don't know what to say other than thank you. Thank you for reading and enjoying it. Thank you for sharing what you thought of it.
I have never written for Hannibal. I know he's a cannibal and that's it. My previous fic experience from hyperfixations is DHMIS and Lies of P. I don't know if that says something about me. I also have a SinoAlice fic and Poppy Playtime fic on anon with separate tumblr accounts haha.
What are we doing here anon. Two weeks ago I knew nothing of That's Not My Neighbor. It has been 12 days and I've written like 20k words (17k if i cut out the verbatim repetition from povs). I honestly thought I'd make Perfect and never look at again. But then. Everyone was so nice and the brainrot increased. Where are we anon. (We are simps I think, for the setting and possibilities and potential if nothing else. )
Also YOUR SPELLING BETRAYS THEE
I know not this anon's preferred title but BEHOLD! The only fic that could match the description, the only anonymous fic I know that uses the characters as a vehicle for introspection and which spells doppelgänger with the screaming a with dots over it!!! Read it if you haven't it's so good and also leaves me speechless. The grief!!! The feels!!! It has a softer doppelganger that I also quite enjoy and so many little sad moments. I beg of whoever stumbles upon my blog to read it!!! Also to mind the tags because HOO BOY they are Tags.
This too, is a shining, wonderful piece of fanfiction. May it prosper through the ravenous attention of simps and nonsimps alike.
#argentior answers#ao3#fanfic#francis mosses#that's not my neighbor#francis mosses x reader#this glass tastes of blood and milk
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Writing pattern tag game
I'm fairly new to writing lol but let's go! I just do it per chapter, some wips and some still unpublished.
1. Happy Holidays Furfur: Another cold day in Hells headoffice.
2. As I Place This Crown Upon Thee: Crowley was sitting on the hood of his Bentley, having found a snow-free parking space and positioned his pride and joy in the most sunniest spot.
3. Marshmallow Cat 1: It was a rainy Monday morning.
4. The Stag & Scale ch 1: On the ground floor of Heaven and Hell’s headquarters was a small office.
5. The Stag & Scale ch 2: There was a loud bang coming from the ground floor office.
6. Marshmallow Cat 2: It had been three days since Crowley and Aziraphale had welcomed a cat into their cottage.
7. Saucy Saucers wip: It’s an early Friday morning in the South Downs cottage, the sun just started peeking over the horizon.
8. The Stag & Scale ch 3 spoiler: It was the end of the afternoon on a cold Thursday in February.
9. The Stag & Scale ch 4 spoiler: Furfur watched his Angel walk away, not knowing when they would see each other again.
10. Poems: Lost lover, my only friend, when you left me, dying in the sands of time.
I somehow like to include the time of day / temperature 😅 Let's just keep on writing and learning more.
@aidaran-alha @adverbian @nosferatini
Writing pattern tag game!
rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there’s a pattern!
Tagged by @theravenmuse and @transplantedmate ages ago bc I am slow at things. I only have 8 published works so I’ll include my drabbles
Snatched: Aziraphale surveyed the scene laid out in front of him with a sinking heart.
To Shreds: Aziraphale stood at the door to Crowley’s flat, a bottle of Malbec in hand.
In The City That Never Sleeps: Hazy smoke was hanging thick in the air of the Oak Room, as the chattering crowd of humans puffed their cigars and recounted the biggest happenings of the day.
To Light Thee On Thy Way: There’s a word pounding in Aziraphale’s brain.
Hold me like a knife: The world was going to shit.
Drabbles 1: “This ends when you want it to.”
Drabbles 2: Despite the pain it caused him, Aziraphale found himself revisiting the memory of Crowley’s kiss over and over in his head.
Seven Days or Seven Years: “Hurry up!” Jane pushed the bank manager across the marble floor.
Ships Passing in the Night: “You go too fast for me, Crowley.”
Patterns: short, establishing sentences, and a surprising amount of Aziraphale.
Tagging @southernfriedamy @isiaiowin @ghst-signal @fuzzygoblin
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2021 Summary of Writing
Thank you for tagging me, dear @missameliep !
January
Dancing is, in a way, like a sword fight - Dominique struggles to tame her granddaughter. However, only Vincent can understand the heart of a Howard’s woman.
Two girls, a name, the same spirit - There is a German proverb that says: ‘ A good name is a second inheritance.’ Well, in this fic Beatrice has the opportunity of a lifetime.
It lives...and kills the curiosity - People say the curiosity kills the cat, but Edgewater's children cannot resist to a good mystery. This is an improbable Desire & Decorum X It Lives crossover.
February
Winter Adventures - All’s fair in love and snowballs - A visit to the Winter Market will teach important to the Foredale siblings. A collab with @ezekielbhandarivalleros.
Yes...No...Interesting - An innocent childish game unveils some truths; some of them easier to accept than others. ‘Yes’ and ‘No’ are among the smallest words in the English language ... but they have a lot of power.
Cheeky Monkey - ‘Trouble’ is Beatrice’s middle name. Fortunately, there is always a knight in shining armour to save her.
The dark side of the moon - The night shadows bring to light some truths about Ledford Park residents.This drabble is a Matthew Sinclaire POV (Ernest’s father is introduced on Chapter IV).
March
Battle of sexes - They say all is fair in love and war. However, very few have th privilege to leave any of them without scars...if not in the heart, at least in pride. The Foredale clan is growing up so are the problems. But there is no wound that a little of siblings' love does not help to heal.
Chapter V - The Talk - An incident in the library will open a door to a new world for Beatrice. Edmund opens the doors of his heart.
April
Love is the most reliable compass - Vincent has an idea for a new book and calls upon his favourite reader for brainstorming. This is an improbable Desire & Decorum X Distant Shores crossover.
May
Chapter VI - Feelings are scary - As we grow, there are senses that wake up in us ... intense, confused, different ... and that can be a little scary at first. However, if we take a leap of faith, wonderful things can happen. Sometimes, we come across mazes along the way of life. In order not to get lost, we have to let ourselves be guided by the voice of those who love us.
Spring Adventures - To celebrate the anniversary of her photography blog, Beatrice decided to do a special photo shoot. As usual, there will shenanigans, troubles and a good deal of laughs.
June
Summer adventures (I) - A summer tale - Summer brings more time for shenanigans. Beatrice has a new obsession. Ernest is to blame for that. And yes, this is another pointless fic.
Finding my way to you - Unfortunately, duty rarely sees eye to eye with heart, and Prince Hamid is commissioned for a new potion. Even though his heart is aching with longing, the imperial prince sets off once more towards the unknown. Who knows where or to whom the stars will take him this time. .(Regency Era)
July
August
Cellar Confessions - Summer Adventures II - An old adage says that ‘a drunken man's words are a sober man's thoughts’. Beatrice is about to find out if this is really true.
In another life - Roselyn Sinclaire reflects in her actions toward her ex-husband.(Regency Era; Desire & Decorum missing scene)
September
Chapter VII - “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?“(Summer Adventure III) - Summer is the season when all is effervescent and free...and with the future knocking at the door, Beatrice is trying to seize the most of it while it lasts. Fortunately, it's never too late to follow our hearts.
October
November
Affairs of the heart - The affairs of the heart are never easy to deal with; whether when love is blooming or withering.
The real treasure - A random moment between Beatrice and Dominique (completely pointless).
December
Tagging: @ezekielbhandarivalleros @secretaryunpaid @storyofmychoices @twinkleallnight @happiness21 @anotherbeingsworld @mm2305
In case any of you wish to create one as well, and if you do, please tag me.
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First Lines
tagged by @athoughtfox
and tagging @wingedflight @larmalot @thatgirlnevershutsup @klaineharmony @bywayofmemory @yalumesse @alexseanchai @syrena-of-the-lake
List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors! I don’t enough people to tag so join in if you want!
No patterns. I’m all over the place. More Star Wars and xovers than usual and lots of espionage, magic, and the Wood Between The Worlds
1.Following in the footsteps of the goddess
“Su, this is on Rabadash alone, not you,” Edmund said in that voice full of worry that almost hides the reproach – or perhaps it’s only her own guilt over her ambition to broker a peace, secure a succession for Narnia and Calormen both, and, maybe, find a worthy partner that instead now has them trapped, deep in an enemy’s own Capital, with no exit strategy, no arms, and a smattering of bad options of which the most optimistic is die together in the siege of a burning house.
2. Three’s A Crowd, Golden Age inspired 3SF fills, the first featuring Caspian/Edmund/Purple Shirt
Edmund settled in their bunk and, brow wrinkled with frowning concentration, carefully threaded a needle with purple silk and bent over the shirt in his lap.
3.Didn’t Exchange More Than 3 Words, various 3SF fills, the first of which is a follow on to Pattern and Example (Star Wars AU where Beru joins the Rebels)
The stormtroopers made a perfunctory visit just as she was (pretending) to close up the tapcafe for the night and swiftly left when she said she'd not seen any of the Bothans the Empire was violently and thoroughly scouring Drev’starn for in a frighteningly competent Imperial dragnet that had terrified the capital city all day.
4. Like A Rolling Stone Gryphon, 3SF Fills, first chapter, which is actually over a 1000 words and not 3 sentences, Chaos and Inspired Genius,
Walker-Smythe had, during one of their earliest lessons, cautioned that good intelligence work was often dull, which Edmund had superb tolerance for, and that success often depended upon building solid relationships, which was where he’d often come up short.
5. Three in Zero Gee, 3 sentence Expanse fills,
“Wrap me up again, Amos!” Mei demands but then launches herself across the machine shop in a game of flying and bouncing that makes Chrisjen look like she's going to swear if she sees them; but he and Bobbie can always catch the girl-sized projectile and once he does, Amos dutifully unwinds the bandage protecting her perfectly healed cuts and bruises just so Mei can make them chase her and wrap her up again.
6. A băga mâna în foc pentru cineva (put your hand in the fire for someone)
Valeriu really hated it when the KGB came to take their prizes and trophies.
7. Meet and Greet another 3SF that wasn’t.
"Come," the High King says, "It is time for you to meet the other gods who walk the land you will rule."
8. Falling into Place Like Dominoes, 3SF fills of Susan/Obi-Wan Kenobi, more of Susan Joins The Rebels
Obi-Wan learned Susan’s strange story first, how she’d come to Tatooine with green and yellow rings powered by something she called magic but that he called the Force, that moved strange and strong through a mysterious Wood that bound not just all of life together, but galaxies as well.
9. Home Thoughts, From Abroad “You promised me dancing and caviar, Tebbitt.”
10. Rat and Cat, Tales of the Calormene Trickster
Because it so puts my brother's beak out of joint, sometimes I help Aslan.
11. One Step Back, Two Steps Forward,
Hwin was not sure what she was expecting from her long dreamed of return to Narnia.
12. A Pattern and Example
It had been so much easier when Shmi was alive.
13. Into the Jungle
The odd dream startled him awake.
14. Happily I think on thee, more of Susan Joins The Rebels
Obi-Wan expects the long-awaited summons to come at any time.
15. blazing in gold and quenching in purple (the I'm too sexy for my shirt remix) My reason for existing has always been three-fold -- to be beautiful, to be admired for that beauty, and to beautify the one who wore me. I don’t know precisely when I became aware of these immutable facts.
16. Resting Capybara Face (A Narnian Fur Pas)
The visit with the two ladies from Archenland started out well enough.
17. Lion and Wolf (Narnia/GOT xover)
She’d named the ship in Robb’s memory.
18. Four Times Peggy and Susan Did Not Shoot Things (and the one time they did) Part of The Narnians Assemble AU
From the seat of the mule-drawn cart loaded with onions and cabbages, Marguerite waved to the soldiers as their armored column lumbered by.
19. The Ladies' Spellcasting, Divining and Sorceress Hunting Society
The return to Experiment House from Narnia was bedlam.
20. At The Crossroads
Lights flickered and the train rattled and swayed.
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Supernatural - a retrospective
This is super self-indulgent, and I have so much else I’ve promised-- I owe a long-fic rec post, and ao3 comments, wip work, and that’s just my fandom stuff I’m behind on. *sigh*
But it’s late on a Saturday and now I’ve finished Supernatural, I want to share what I think are my top few eps, and a few other comments. I promise some of this will be different from the “greatest hits” you probably usually see, and I’ll try to make it worth your time. *wry smile*
Look, we have to have categories like: “Most Likely to Live in My Head Rent-Free for the Rest of my Life” and “Most Likely to Inspire Unnecessary Fanfiction” that are different from “Favorites,” because that’s just the cursed energy this show has. ;-)
My top five
#5 - 13.01 - “Lost and Found”
Written by: Andrew Dabb | Directed by: Phil Sgriccia
In fandom, this is most often referred to as the start of the “Grieving Widower” arc, tongue-in-cheek. Also has Alexander Calvert (Jack) walking around completely in the nude for the first third of the ep. (Neither of these are why this is in my top 5, but he has a good story about wardrobe for his ‘first day.’)
I didn’t expect much out of this episode the first time I watched it, but I’ve gone over this ‘section’ of the show maybe 3-4 times in my Netflix catch-up, and I watch this one in full every time. From Jack being...not at all what anyone expected and an unsteady vindication, to the stunning cinematography (there’s a post that compares shots to Brokeback Mountain, but I think the shots here might be better), to the sheriff who takes the time to remind her deputy that “...there’s no such thing as ‘weird.’ Everyone’s normal in their own way,” to the slow reveal of exactly how hard the events of the previous night (12x23 - All Along the Watchtower) are hitting Dean and Sam and in different ways...(how long the episode takes to reveal to you how Dean fucked up his hand, and what he was saying when he did. Augh!) The Winchesters are trying to rally, but they have been taking hits for a long time, and the cracks are showing.
#4 - 15.06 - “Golden Time”
Written by: Meredith Glynn | Directed by: John F. Showalter
Supernatural has a terrible track record with representation in all stripes. It is infamously consistent in killing off anyone minority, female, or non-White. One of the interesting things about the chaotic meta-narrative of season 15 is you can see the lack of fucks some of the writer’s room had to give about not even being subtle about tearing down that type of ‘White-male-hero-journey” now that they were in a literal “what will they do, fire me?” situation.
I’m a Cas fan, and this episode, which gives him an actual, ‘case-of-the-week’ hunter’s narrative where he gets to save the day on his own, successfully, was wonderful. I love that for him! But more than that, for me, this episode is emotional to me for other reasons-- the way Dean and Cas circle around each other on their angry phone call (with the body language! They are broadcasting so LOUD and neither can see because they’re on the phone!), Sam’s story here, where he’s inheriting things from Rowena that allow him in turn to save Eileen, to Cas’ speech and quick anger at the lake when you reflect on his entire journey of self-realization from a soldier of blind faith to an agent of free will... “You selfish little men in your positions of authority...” I just... *clears throat, grabs tissue*
#3 - 6.20 - “The Man Who Would Be King”
Written & Directed by: Ben Edlund
Speaking of Cas’ journey... I know some folks don’t like the angst and drama of the ‘Heaven and Hell’ plots of Supernatural, but I am here for it. Oh, did we need another reason to include this episode? This has some of the most metal quotes I have heard from any TV show. Ever.
I mean, look at this:
“If I knew then what I know now, I would have said: Freedom is a length of rope. God wants you to hang yourself with it.”
“Explaining freedom to angels is a bit like explaining poetry to fish.”
The delivery of: “It's not too late. Damn it, Cas! We can fix this!” “Dean, it’s not broken!” is one of those Supernatural bits that will live in my head until the end of time. All of Edlund’s episodes are among my favorites, but this (along with “5.04 - The End”) was on another level.
#2 - 5.16 - “Dark Side of the Moon”
Written by: Andrew Dabb & Daniel Loflin | Directed by: Jeff Wollnough
I think of this episode every time I hear Bob Dylan sing “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door.” This is kinda a giant montage episode, but the connecting concepts are so...satisfying.
“Heaven is your favorite memories.” “ It’s called the axis mundi. It’s a path that runs through heaven. Different people see it as different things. For you, it’s two-lane asphalt.” “This is your idea of heaven? Wow, this was one of the worst nights of my life.” “I don’t think I realized how long you’ve been cleaning up Dad’s messes.” “It’s awesome to finally have an application—a practical application—for string theory.” “Everyone leaves you, Dean. You noticed?” “Why is God talking to me? Gardner-to-gardener, and between us, I think he gets lonely.” “You son of a bitch, I believed in... ” Whoosh.
#1 - 4.01 - ���Lazarus Rising”
Written by: Eric Kripke | Directed by: Kim Manners
So...this is the episode where Castiel, angel of thee Lord, shows up. And that’s primarily why it earns the no. 1 spot, because 80% of my enjoyment of Supernatural from this point on was Cas-adjacent. Plus this entire episode just hits. ALL OF IT. Dean’s homecoming. Ruby, my darling. Bobby’s entire vibe. Pamela Barnes, easily one of the most interesting women Supernatural ever introduced. Cas being so hot to say “Hi” to Dean he forgets he wounds people.
But beyond that-- the way the show writes their ‘oh, by the way, angels’ narrative! If you haven’t seen this episode, would you believe me if I told you that THIS EPISODE, the episode where Supernatural said “canonically, Judeo-Christian Heaven is real, btw” involves no churches but does involve a séance, a soulmark handprint brand, and a himbo angel that “gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition”...but they were all “no homo, guys” for years?
Truly no one was out here doing it like Supernatural even back in 2008.
Others--
15.18 - “Despair”
“Most Likely to Live Rent-Free in My Head for the Rest of my Life”
Written by: Robert Berens | Directed by: Richard Speight, Jr.
You know why this episode is here. It broke reality. I could be wrong-- but I’d put good money on this episode being the subject of academic theses in the future. That doesn’t automatically make for interesting story, but...
Has there ever been a case, in a mainstream US TV show where a major lead character (Cas) came out as queer so late in the game in a narratively-important way? I’m not aware of it, but I might just be behind on my television.
This episode has great writing, and (blessedly) amazing direction and blocking anyway. Check out the above gif - that is some next level foreshadowing going on in the cinematography, and this isn’t even the most remarked upon shot in this episode. (Seriously, I had to search for 40 minutes for this gif, please respect my game, lol.) Everyone who was involved in 15x18 is giddy talking about their investment, from the costume designer to the actors to the director to the writer...
...And then a bunch of them steadfastly have avoided posting much Supernatural-related since. So that’s...loud. There is a bunch of subtext in this episode that is screamingly loud; there is a bunch of text in this episode that makes several things clear fandom has been chattering over for years and years. The meta-commentary around this episode continues, months later. There are over 700 fics on AO3 with this episode tag.
I have more to say about the themes of ‘free will’ and ‘love’ and ‘identity’ tied to this episode, but seriously-- you’ve probably read 17 versions of it on Tumblr already, so.
This is the last time we see Cas, and the last time Supernatural can claim anything close to narrative consistency. For that alone, it’d earn free head-space.
Runners-up: “4.20 - The Rapture”; “5.04 - The End”; “7.21 - Reading is Fundamental”; “8.21 - The Great Escapist”; “9.06 - Heaven Can’t Wait”; “12.19 - The Future”; “14.08 - Byzantium”
6.17 - “My Heart Will Go On”/8.07 - “A Little Slice of Kevin”
“Most Likely to Inspire Unnecessary Fanfiction”
Written by: Eric Charmelo & Nicole Snyder (6.17); Brad Buckner & Eugenie Ross-Leming | Directed by: Phil Sgriccia (6.17); Charlie Carner (8.07)
Usually the show kills off it’s “one-episode” female characters, but do you know one time it didn’t? When the Moirai (the Fates - specifically Atropos, the shearer of the Threads of Fate) showed up in canon in 6.17. She was posited to have “two older sisters that were bigger than her- in every sense of the word,” ...and Castiel had to back down when she challenged him to a cosmic game of chicken over the Winchester’s lives.
Then they never returned to that idea again.
“A Little Slice of Kevin” is on here for the opposite reason -- an amazing idea that was really underwritten in the episode it showed up in. Dean Winchester has been dragging himself across the fabric of universes; the literal Word of God is in play in a warehouse in Middle America; Cas is back from Purgatory, but what does that mean, micro and macro? As a person on the street, what would it mean, or feel like, to learn you were a Prophet of the Lord, uncalled? That what you are, everything you are, is a cosmic contingency?
Maybe Fate has an opinion on all these shenanigans?
Perhaps all that doesn’t make sense, but it certainly made an impression on ~2012 me. To this day, it remains the WIP I can open up and fool myself with the ‘twist.’ I wish I remembered where I was going with it so I could finish it.
Runners Up: “2.20 - What Is and What Should Never Be”; “5.04 - The End”; “6.15 - The French Mistake”; 12.12 - “Stuck in the Middle (with you)”; “13.05 - Advanced Thanatology” “14.03 - The Scar”; “14.10 - Nihilism”; “15.15 - Gimme Shelter” ... and “15.20 - Carry On” (obviously)
Fifteen seasons. There were plenty of other episodes I loved that didn’t make these limited lists. But overall -- thank you, Supernatural, for the run. Even if I’m upset at the ending, I can appreciate the game. If you watch the show, what were your favorite episodes?
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“Soundless - A Modern Salem in Remote Area” by milk+ visual
This review does not contain spoilers, as my goal is to encourage others to play the game for themselves!
Doing my usual stalking of the visual novel + horror tags on itch, I came across this work of art, upon clicking I was told by the description how thee game told the story of Mercy, a fifteen year old girl living in an isolated village dominated by a religion worshipping “two halves”, defensive and offensive energy, or “Barrier” and “Expulsive”. The description warned of themes of abuse and bullying, but as a lover of dark themes that only made me want to play more.
A few hours later, I felt like my brain had been put through a wringer, but in the best way possible. Soundless had me completely captivated from beginning to end, I couldn’t have taken a break from playing if I tried. Throughout my playthrough I felt as though I really was living as Mercy, a young girl shunned by her peers due to a “curse” causing her to experience frightening visions. Mercy’s pain and loneliness is something many people have experienced in life, and the hurt of watching the world go on without you is something I can relate to all too well.
However, Mercy was far from the only character I empathized with, in fact, by the end of the game most of the characters have shown a more human, flawed and hurting side of themselves. For example we learn about the past of Clara, one of Mercy’s relentless school bullies, and what caused her to act this way, bringing out a much more human and sympathetic side of her.
I have to say though, my favorite aspect of this game is by far the unpredictability of the plot. I’ll be honest, I had no clue where this was going, even after I completed the main story I was lost, sure I understood vaguely what had happened, but so much still made no sense, that is until reading the notes available at the end screen. We are able to read various entries dating from years before the story began, up until the very end, from the perspective of a familiar face. We learn that all was never what it seemed, and the story ties up perfectly, leaving the player satisfied (if not a little heartbroken).
Another feature I’m in love with is the advice and support straight from the developer at the end. As someone who struggles with mental illness, having a supportive meta message tying up the symbolism within the game was the perfect ending to (positive) emotional turmoil. Soundless portrays themes of mental illness in a respectful and true way, and the developer’s note brings this all together in a beautiful, emotional way.
I really cannot recommend this game enough, if you’re into psychological horror, unexpected twists, emotionally-charged story lines and deep, intriguing characters, Soundless is the perfect visual novel for you. I really can’t praise the developer enough for this amazing game,
PLEASE PLAY SOUNDLESS !!
#soundless#milkplus#milk+#visual novel#horror game#game review#game recommendations#review#psychological horror#horror#gaming
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Sinful Thoughts (Michael Langdon X Reader) Part 2
click here for part 1 // tag list: (sorry if I forgot anyone!) @fuckthatfeeling @shado-cat @hxdesworld @the-captain-kidd @mrs-langdxn @natalielivesformusic
plot: you’re the epitome of a good christian girl. michael langdon intends to ruin that.
warnings: fem!Reader, high school au, fingering, michael is kind of a dick in this but in a hot way, u get finger fucked in a janitor’s closet oopsy😋
word count: 3.6k
i.
“Forgive me father, for I have sinned.”
Your voice sounded foreign, like you were listening to yourself talk from another room. You swallowed a sudden wave of nausea as you waited for the priest to reply from behind the screen. “And how is it that you have sinned, my child?” The man’s voice was patient and calm. It didn’t make you feel any better.
You let out a shuddery sigh before responding. “I’ve been having bad thoughts. Sinful thoughts, father. Desires of the flesh...”
“I see. And have you succumbed to any of these thoughts?”
“No,” you said. Not yet, anyway. You considered this answer to only be a half-truth, as recently you’d been finding yourself grinding against your chair absentmindedly in class, watching that awful blond boy from across the room. You hadn’t touched yourself to any thoughts, at least not voluntarily, but you had a sneaking feeling that you were very, very close to breaking.
The last straw had been this morning. You’d been preoccupied in class, as usual, eyes glazed over as images of Michael Langdon’s hands danced in your mind, when suddenly there was a hollow pit in your stomach. You’d jumped to your feet and hurried to the girl’s bathroom, immediately holing yourself up in a stall to squeeze your thighs together and will away the thoughts that were bringing you closer and closer to your breaking point.
Once you’d managed to coax the feeling away, you bowed your head and recited a few prayers. God had to be testing your will— that was the only explanation you could think of that made any sort of sense. You’d always had such remarkable self-control, but you could feel it dwindling with every lude thought that crossed your mind. You had to admit, though: divine test or not, you were beginning to frighten yourself.
“Good, my child. Now recite three Hail Marys and you shall be forgiven.”
Your face fell. “Seriously? What am I supposed to do about this? I mean, I can’t think about anything but this one boy!”
The priest’s voice suddenly assumed a tone that was far more casual than wise and all-knowing. “Honestly, kid, there’s a lot worse things than having a couple dirty thoughts every now and then.”
You went slack-jawed, staring at the shadowy figure of the priest with disbelief. Was he really being serious? Did he really not have any kind of solution to offer for your problem? You huffed, discouraged, and without another word you left the confessional booth, letting the door slam shut behind you. Maybe he’s right, came a hopeful whisper in your mind. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you just touched a little...
You shook your head as if to erase the thought like an etch-a-sketch. No way. You couldn’t. You’d gone your whole life without giving in to your desires, so why start now? It’s a test, you told yourself firmly. God is testing me.
You pushed open the double doors of the church and walked into the parking lot, the sky navy blue and sprinkled with stars. You sighed, walking briskly as you started the fifteen minute journey home.
You’d hoped that going to the confessional would make you feel better, or enlighten you somehow. Instead, it had only heightened your confusion and distress. You pulled your jacket tighter to you as a soft breeze blew your hair back, footsteps erratic on the sidewalk as you hoped to shorten your walk through the cold.
Crunch. You stopped so suddenly you nearly lost your balance, whipping around as your heart jumped in your throat. It sounded as if somebody had stepped on a dead leaf on the ground behind you, but you’d been certain you were alone.
The sidewalk was empty. Not even a car was in sight. You scanned the premises anxiously before turning back around, quickening your pace. It was all in your head, you told yourself. You only made it a few more yards before you were interrupted again, this time by the sound of scurrying behind you, so clear there was no way you could’ve imagined it. You stopped, mumbling a desperate prayer and stroking your necklace, before gingerly turning around.
Nothing. The streets and sidewalk were empty. The streetlights cast eerie shadows down the uneven cement, overgrown with weeds and grass, but there was nobody there. What the hell? You thought, before scolding yourself for swearing.
You let out a panicked whimper, your body numbing from a mixture of fear and cold, and reluctantly you turned back around. You took in an indulgent breath, counting to three in your head before exhaling. It’s all in your head. It’s all in your head. It’s all-
You let out a strangled scream as a gloved hand found its way over your mouth, your body being pulled into a makeshift alley between two parallel fences. Immediately you were pressed hard against the old, splintering wood behind you, your flailing limbs tamed effortlessly by your assailant.
Then you heard a laugh. A very familiar laugh, at that. Your attacker removed his hand from your mouth, taking a step back, and even though it was dark you could recognize those angular features.
“Michael, what the- what the hell is wrong with you?” You managed, and you watched him grin at your natural reluctance to swear. A tear dropped from the corner of your eye and slid down your cheek, which you quickly wiped away with the back of your sleeve.
“I was going for a walk when I saw you, and I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”
“The opportunity to make me think I was about to be raped? Or murdered?” Your words came out at much more of a shrill pitch than you’d intended, and your body continued to shake from the leftover terror.
“Shhh,” he cooed, reaching a leather-clad hand to your jaw and tenderly wiping away the tears that continued to spill, forming dark spots on the front of your sweater. Even though you glared at Michael with contempt, that dreaded sinking feeling returned in your stomach upon having his hand against your skin.
“Don’t touch me,” you said, crossing your arms in front of you protectively.
“You say that,” he began, that stupid smirk giving way across his perfect lips, “but your thoughts are sending me a very different message.”
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“Hm,” he laughed dryly, thumb still working away the glassy stains on your skin. Then he brought his face close to yours, so close that his words caused the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end. “Tell me about your dream.”
You gaped at him. He couldn’t possibly be talking about...? “What dream?”
He shook his head, appearing somewhat annoyed with you. “When will you accept that I know everything about you, (y/n)? Your thoughts, desires, dreams.” You faltered under the weight of his stare, unsure if your lack of motion was due to some sort of supernatural hold, or your own free will. “So, (y/n),” he said, lips brushing your ear and making you shiver. “Tell me about the dream you had.”
“You’re crazy,” you said, pressing yourself as far back against the fence as you could in a feeble attempt to escape his presence. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So you don’t remember? Waking up with your panties soaked through? Using every last shred of strength to stop yourself from touching that one part of you that’s off-limits.” You blinked at him, and again came that ache beneath your undergarments, demanding your attention.
“You remember.” He placed his fingers under your chin and tilted it upwards. “Don’t you?”
You nodded, an act of betrayal against yourself. “How did- how could you know?” you stammered, shallow breaths escaping you as you fought to keep your composure.
“I’m more powerful than any god you could ever dream of,” he told you, lifting one hand to your hair and petting it.
“That’s a lie.”
He tilted his head to one side, lips twitching upwards at the corners. He was loving this, the way you studied his every move with fear and lust behind your eyes. He darted his tongue out and ran it along his bottom lip, and you nearly whined at the way the moisture glinted in the dark. “But it isn’t, (y/n), and you know it isn’t.”
You glared at him, all at once frustrated with yourself for playing into his games, and without a second thought your palm was hot against his cheek, his skin icy from the nighttime chill. Your eyes wide, you brought your quivering hand back to your side, immediately regretting what you’d done. In the low light, you could almost swear his eyes were entirely black, glossy like a raven’s wings.
“Hail Mary, full of grace, our lord is with thee,” you choked, afraid. “Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, J-J-“ You gasped for air, realizing that your throat was being constricted as your body inched upwards against the fence. Michael’s hands, however, weren’t touching you; your feet left the ground and you continued upwards as if by magic, dragged by an invisible force that also managed to prevent you from breathing.
“M-Mi-Michael,” you begged, your hands grasping senselessly at your throat. “P-pl-“ your mouth opened and closed frantically as your legs dangled uselessly below you.
He chuckled to himself before casually flicking his wrist, and suddenly you dropped back onto the ground, chest heaving as you took in a gulp of much needed air. Waves of blond hair falling over his face as he bent over to reach your level, he spoke with a twinge of sadistic amusement. “Are you ready to submit?”
All you could do was look at him, entirely speechless, and his lips curved up into a triumphant grin. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow, (y/n).”
Without another word, he strode out of the alley and into the night, leaving you alone to deal with your thoughts.
ii.
All morning at school that next day, you compulsively checked the clock with a lump in your throat. Your stomach was unable to stop its incessant churning as you anticipated your inevitable crossing of paths with Michael later that day. You couldn’t shake the feelings of fear- fear for what he was, as it was blatantly apparent to you now that he wasn’t fully human- and arousal, and the combination of the two emotions was intoxicating.
You knew it wouldn’t be long before you unraveled in the palms of his ring-clad hands. There was just something about him that you couldn’t shake, and you thought maybe it’d be better for everyone if you just gave in to your desires.
You hated that you’d been brought to the point of nearly giving up- you’d been so strong until you met him. What was it about him that was powerful enough to change you?
When the time came to go to biology, you were forced to evaluate your options: the first was showing up and pretending like nothing was wrong, even though you knew Michael would be reading your thoughts all the same. The other was the more cowardly option- hiding out in a secluded part of the school while skipping the class altogether.
Michael would know that he’d won if you didn’t show up for class, something so out of character for someone as studious as you. You knew this. But wouldn’t he know either way that he’d gotten under your skin? He already seemed to be in tune with your every thought. Was there even any use pretending that you hadn’t been affected by him?
In the end, you wound up finding yourself hidden out in the janitor’s closet, knees drawn to your chest as you scrolled through your phone. Sure, it was the easy way out. But you were beginning to suspect that there would be no escaping Michael whether or not you went to class.
Sitting awkwardly amongst the mops and cleaning supplies, your heart jumped as the doorknob began jiggling gently.
You bit your bottom lip. You knew who was behind that door. It’d already been on the back of your mind that Michael might know where to find you, but your teeth began chattering in apprehensive excitement all the same. You watched the lock turn by itself- again, you’d known there was the chance that he could bypass whatever obstacles you put between the two of you. Every time he proved his supernatural powers to be more than a figment of your imagination, though, it managed to surprise you.
The lock clicked, and then the door was opening, a thin stream of light from the fluorescent-lit hallways cutting through the dimness of the closet. And then there was Michael with his beautiful hair and black jacket and expensive pants, towering over you as you became engulfed in his shadow.
He looked at you wryly, taking a step inside and shutting the door sensibly behind himself. “Is there a reason you’re in a dusty closet instead of biology class?”
Your fingers thoughtlessly traced your cross necklace for what seemed like the thousandth time that week, even though you knew it wouldn’t help you now. “You know why I’m here, Michael,” you said grudgingly.
“Why don’t you tell me?” he said, and you rolled your eyes. This was all a part of his plan to ruin you, having you swallow your last ounce of pride to admit that you were afflicted by him.
“I thought you knew everything,” you said sarcastically as he leaned forward and offered you his hand.
“Oh, believe me, (y/n), I do,” he said, helping you to your feet after you placed your hand in his. “I just want to hear you say it.”
He came closer to you, hips swinging slightly as he took his usual long, leisurely strides. Your back hit the dusty shelves, shaking something loose- there was a soft crash as something scattered across the floor, but you hardly noticed, too busy fixating on Michael as he closed in on his prey. Rolling his neck slightly, he licked his lips; his eyes were dark and glinted with a carnivorous sort of hunger.
“Fine,” you said loudly, resenting the way he regarded you so smugly. “I’m here because I couldn’t bring myself to face you. Because you make me want to do bad things. Un-Christian things. Happy?”
“Now, how hard was that?” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, blinking innocently. “Tell me what you want,” he said, his tone gentle but authoritative, fingers trailing down your cheeks and ghosting your jaw.
“You know what I want,” you murmured, looking down as your face flushed with shame. Was he really going to make you say it?
Of course he was going to. You shouldn’t have expected any sort of mercy from someone like Michael Langdon. He was eating this up, thriving on your weakness. And for some reason, as ashamed as you were to admit it, that raw, domineering power only made your center throb harder with want.
“Look at me,” he commanded calmly, so low you almost thought you’d imagined it. You obeyed, shuddering as his eyes seared invasively into yours. “Tell me what you want, and you can have it.”
“I want-“ you began, pausing to gather your bearings. “I want you to touch me.” You hardly registered the words as your own; it felt like you were outside of your body, watching helplessly from afar as you eagerly allowed Michael Langdon to strip you of your remaining dignity.
“That’s it,” he said, lowering his hand to toy with the hem of your skirt. “Let go of everything. Give yourself to me.” He hiked up your skirt to your waist, and you could only imagine how crude this scene would look to an observer as he rolled your nude colored pantyhose down to your knees. You whimpered, barely noticing the way the shelf behind you dug painfully into your back.
“Where do you want to be touched?” he asked, making you groan in exasperation. Wasn’t the fact that you were submitting to him enough? Why did he need to further humiliate you?
“Please,” you breathed, but he only shook his head at you, no sign of sympathy in his stoic gaze. “Michael.”
Your hand shot forward and gripped his wrist, tugging it desperately towards your dripping core. He seemed pleasantly surprised at this, and seemed to be rewarding your boldness when he starred to rub circles over the thin fabric of your underwear. You moved your hand to grip his forearm, hissing as he applied hard pressure to your aching clit.
“Your underwear is completely soaked through,” he remarked, sliding his hand up to the waistband and snapping it hard against your lower stomach. “Have I always made you this wet?”
You knew he expected an answer from you, freezing in place as he waited for your reply. He could probably continue this for hours if he wanted to, just destroying you bit by bit. You gulped and nodded quickly, hoping that would suffice as an answer to his question.
He worked your underwear down to your knees, bunching it alongside your pantyhose. Next you felt his dress shoes nudging between your flats, urging you to spread your legs apart. You complied, his fingers stroking your upper leg and dipping into the juices that had begun to dribble down your inner thighs.
When he’d coated a sufficient amount on his fingers, he lifted them to your lips; you parted them obediently and he slipped them into your mouth. You wrapped your lips around them, moaning wantonly at the taste of your wetness combined with the salty flavor of his skin.
“Who would’ve known that the sweet little Christian girl would turn out to be such a needy slut?” he mused, removing his fingers from your mouth to trace them lightly over your swollen clit. “Good girl,” he praised, dragging his moist fingers over your entrance before easing them inside your tight walls. You whined, grinding your hips down as you felt yourself being stretched out for the first time in your life. It was exquisite, the way he felt inside you, and you couldn’t believe you’d been denying yourself this for so long.
He started out torturously slow, allowing you to get used to the feeling of his fingers inside you before increasing the intensity. When you’d been properly stretched out, he thrusted harshly upwards, forcing a gasp from your lips as your vision blurred. Your eyes fluttered shut and his pace quickened, his fingers expertly reaching and working at your deepest points with each vigorous thrust of his wrist. Your arms braced his neck, holding him close to you in case he might change his mind, decide to leave you high and dry. The thought of that alone made you want to sob.
“That’s it,” he said, aligning his thumb with your clit and tracing shapes over it firmly. “Allow yourself to forget everything but the pleasure.” You were one step ahead of him, your mind already blanking out as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, thumb pushing against your sensitive bundle of nerves without mercy. You cried out, muscles tensing as you realized you were about to have your very first orgasm, and for the first time you understood, really understood, the reason people touched themselves, had sex before marriage. What was so goddamned sinful about wanting release?
You rocked your hips forward, your walls clenching around him, and he stopped, fingers remaining inside you and thumb hovering just over your clit. You whined, rolling your hips against his hand, but he moved his hand with your body, not allowing you to take more than he was willing to give. “Tell me,” he ordered, knowing very well you knew what he meant.
“Michael, please,” you pleaded, wiping away a bead of sweat that was traveling down your forehead. “Don’t do this, I- I need this-”
He hummed softly, just barely sweeping his thumb over your clit, pulling it away before you could buck your hips towards him. “You need what, (y/n)? I need to hear you say it before I can give it to you.”
“Make me come, Michael, I need to come,” you blurted, blinking back tears which wobbled precariously over the rim of your eyes. You saw him grin, and then your vision blurred as he resumed massaging circles roughly against your bud, fingers stretching apart inside you before pounding hard against your spongey walls.
“Oh my- oh my god,” you sighed, too wrapped up in your ecstasy to care about using the lord’s name in vain. All you cared about in this moment was Michael and his beautiful hand turning you inside out, giving you what you’d been yearning for so desperately. He curled his fingers inside you and that was it- you orgasmed, a tsunami of pure, sinful bliss washing over you, and you made sure your face was buried in his shoulder to muffle the shrieks that you simply could not stifle.
You laid your head there while he slipped his fingers out of you, wiping the excess moisture over your protruding outer lips. Mindlessly brushing away a strand of his perfect hair from his neck, you opened your eyes with a contented hum, still too flustered from your orgasm to think clearly.
And then you almost screamed.
Suddenly you had all the answers you’d been looking for. You knew for certain now who he was, why he had such seemingly supernatural powers that both frightened and compelled you. It was remarkable, you thought, that you hadn’t realized it sooner.
Below his ear, etched in reddened, raised flesh, was a number.
6-6-6.
#michael langdon#michael langdon smut#michael langdon imagine#cody fern#ahs apocalypse#apocalypse#ahs smut#ahs imagines#mine#ahs#american horror story
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Character Profile : Una’to Bajhiri
For many of us, music is a source of inspiration for our characters, so I want to know what songs inspire and/or relate to your muse! Choose between 10-15 songs, compile them into an album and tag some friends to share the beat!
Lost Children - Mr. Kitty
A child dies at birth Window of life is shut For what my time was worth Time ticks another cut
Resist the urge to perfect thee Create the curse you live to see Swallow the boy's ejected seed You're not the one I wish to be
Dramaturgy - Jubyphonic Cover
All they want now is safety from what’s around Waiting for help but never learning how I don’t wanna think now I’ll play dumb anyhow Always been me, empty, a body but nobody here to see
The Chattering Lack of Common Sense - Ghost and Pals I could never understand How first impressions go unplanned Everybody hides their face How could I have noticed? Nonetheless, we're all the same There's many things from where we came Show a smile, we're rather bored Nothing lines up anymore
Merry Go Round - Yohio
Pure fabrication, false information Twisted narration… leaving you blind
Take the blame now You mess with our minds, telling lies to our eyes I won’t take no part in this broken merry go round
Shapeless and silent, the shadows are haunting me Gruesome and grievous Yes, ghastly and grim
Dust Hymn - Purity Ring
Water spills down o'er The glass left always full There's a dew under the bed where Sweat and dreams hath tread Your feet would touch the floor Drift around like boards Hang you like a lullaby
bury a friend - Billie Eillish
What do you want from me? Why don't you run from me? What are you wondering? What do you know? Why aren't you scared of me? Why do you care for me? When we all fall asleep, where do we go?
Just Beneath the Flames - Digital Daggers
We were kings and queens of bedlam We were happy to exist In discomfort we've created Though we dreamed of more than this We had embers in our bloodlines Iron lungs beneath our skin Though our hearts were barely beating We were bleeding out within
Despicable - Grandson
How I wish I told a different tale Like we chased the light, and his love prevailed But his blood ran cold, and his skin went pale She got a letter in the mail, it said: "I'm doing you a favor, doing you a favor"
OK - 8 Graves
The evil that I hold inside Bed of nails on which I lie I made it There's nowhere left for me to hide Racing towards the other side I hate it All of my ranting and raving I’m waxing and waning And I don't see an end in sight Maybe I'm just masquerading As way beyond saving So I don’t even have to fight
Blackout - Aviva
Blackout, blackout I hear them calling Blackout, blackout They're calling for your blood They’ll never get enough Not until you Blackout, blackout Hear them calling
Karma - Alec Benjamin
Outrunning karma That boy, he's such a charmer All the bugs and their larva Follow him out to Colorado Ten dozen hearts in a bag Their bodies lying He'll drag them down to Colorado A modern desperado And he'll race for miles through the night He runs because he knows he cannot hide He's never gonna make it All the poor people he's forsaken Karma is always gonna chase him for his lies It's just a game of waiting From the church steeple down to Satan Karma, there's really no escape until he dies
Control - Halsey
I sat alone, in bed 'til the morning I'm crying, "They're coming for me" And I tried to hold these secrets inside me My mind's like a deadly disease
I'm bigger than my body I'm colder than this home I'm meaner than my demons I'm bigger than these bones
And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you're scaring me" I can't help this awful energy Goddamn right, you should be scared of me Who is in control?
The Silent - The Tragic Tantrum
Which wouldn't be so bad Except they don't ask for permission They just get inside you And set upon their mission Or better than that They'll get into your veins And seep into your bloodstream Which causes lots of pain Or better than that They'll make you go insane If the little bugger slimes Reach into your brain Or better than that In your soul they'll lurk A place to worship You've become their church
Whisper - Burn the Ballroom
Come in sit down sweet angel Leave me all your tears Tell me all of your troubles The weight of your short years Love is only a river drowning all of your cheer Sell me all of your laughter and I will take some of your fear His favorite days were the mornings she came with confessions of cardinal sin A beast in the business of selling forgiveness dead eyes on a treacherous grin And he laps up the vice like a wolf in the night He's the left hand of God on the stage And with one hand he offers salvation to lovers the other it taketh away
I Created A Monster! - IYF & Nobody Remix
Excorcism ft. Cyber Diva - Creep-P
Exorcists can't save me now I swear to you that I'm fine Please let me die to be found He speaks for me, nerves that I grind Speaking louder in my own voice Blocked by the voice of a demon inside I act coy and I play nice Only to die on the inside I need an exorcism I need an exorcism I need an exorcism I need an exorcism I need an exorcism I need an exorcism I need an exorcism I need an exorcism
Tagged by @lareine-kira. I went with the full fifteen songs for fun. Though one has no lyrics and it isn’t at all organized lol.
Open tags on this one since I’m kind of late. <3
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Tag Game
I was tagged by the wonderful @sunlitroom thank you ! =)
I´m curious which one of the Greek plays has been your favorite?
I´m doing the escapists diet version of this ;)
Are you a homebody? The world is a scary place and sometimes walls keep the scary out, sometimes it sneaks in through cracks and cables but ultimately inside is and always has been the safest place, or at least it feels like that
What movies have you watched recently? Okay let me talk about the one recent Saturday where I turned on the TV snacking on some chocolate bunny just to look upon a mighty ship and some people in arrrrrrmazing clothes. Turns out they were airing “Crossbones“ (NBC) which is about pirates, the crown and tinkering around with clock smith tools. Or something like that I´m not quite sure which episode I turned in to but I watched around thee or four in a row. I couldn´t see the last two they aired but recorded them. I kind of really want to take the time to watch them, or try to find the english episodes online because it was actually entertaining. It feels like they could have made a whole season out of two episodes, so it felt kind of rushed but maybe the german dub added to that feeling.
It´s not Black Sails but while I´d really wanted to argue with some stuff (one of the) protagonist(s) said to her Kate Balfour is quite an interesting character in terms of writing a wife and at the same time a woman with agency (and it seems she´s not vilified for something other shows would treat her not well over, but there might be another icky trope playing into this, still need to watch more) Nenna Ajanlekoko seems to be quite interesting as well. It seems one character has Agoraphobia, and while at first this causes some wounds ir seems there´s quite some understanding for her needs (but that´s about where I stopped watching), addiction to opiates is a topic (and they mirrored the internal struggle of yesORno to the relieve provided in an external yes and not that come from different protagonists for various reasons)
> Also with the non pirate protagonist Tom Lowe I kept thinking I knew the actor, but could just think of Michael Sheen and it wasn´t him... turns out it was Richard Coyle [or as I know him CAOS´ delightfully awful Faustus Blackwood]
> Oh and John Malkovich plays Edward Teach, aka "Blackbeard" in need of some hair dye.
What are you doing for self care? I, despite point one, actually for once was actually looking forward to something involving the outside and other people and I built it up in my head as something that would potentially build up my hurt self (esteem) back again and patch me somewhat up after some really not so great experience, so I had a moment of “woe is me” when An event you were looking forward to that got cancelled Technically the event wasn´t cancelled just the particular Pen&PaperRPG I had applied and got a spot for but, despite thwarted selfcare attempt I was glad that I could play it safe and stay in without having to cancel myself. It was just about that time where nothing was locked but it increasingly looked like that´s what probably should be done.
What music are you listening to? What´s been added to this and really got me sucked into a youtube hole the past weeks is Hank 3. That might have happened as a side effect of still not having seen "I saw the light" in which Tom Hiddleston plays Hiram "Hank" Williams. His grandson Shelton Hank Williams III was not happy about that casting and I´m glad he complained cause I might not have started to listen to his music. Quite a delayed reaction but here we are finally. [Although I must certainly have known about Superjoint Ritual years ago, but I guess without being aware of Hank ... buuuut my memory is crap]
>> What I learned is more people should sing about Opossums. Hank doesn´t nearly sing as much about Possums as he should but there is at least: Hank Williams III & Leroy Troy - “Possum In a Tree” ~Possum in a tree looking at me, you know he´s living his life wild and free ~
>> Sometimes Shelton goes by (the horrible) SKELTON .. no not that H3 "Country Heroes" that was Halloween ... that stuff with TPB Those Poor Bastards w/ Skelton - Black Dog Yodel the theatrics are just so I don´t know if I should say campy or extra but I love it ;D and I really like his voice in those Black Dog Yodel-Poor Bastards with HW III
>> That one is just really working for me "Ghost to a Ghost"
>> And just a really neat Bop, I vaguely remember that one was the one where I really got into that YTHole Hank III & Assjack "Tennessee Driver"
What are you reading? Hopefully more fanfiction when I get around to but the next slot of likely uninterrupted time miiiight be reserved for finally watching the gotham finale .. I feel like I might be read for that now ^^
Apart from the recently mentioned GothamFics I had the chance to read the start of another and brand new compelling Daryl Dixon / Beth Greene mystery here: PYROLYSIS by Audriss [What´s the other compelling mystery you ask, well of course: BY ANY OTHER NAME]
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Character Profile : Alus
Full Name: Alus Beauregard Pronunciation: Ah-Loose Beau-Regard (IPA: ɑːljuːs boʊɹəɡɑɹd) Nicknames: Alice (dontcallhimthisunlessyouwannagetyelledat) Height: 5′8″ (a few ilms higher with heels, which he wears ALWAYS) Age: ~24 Zodiac: Nald’thal, The Traders (note: Alus’ actual nameday is unknown, this is just his father’s chosen Guardian to represent his twin sons.) Languages: Common, Some Hingan.
PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.
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Hair Colour: Golden Blonde Eye Colour: Heterochromia; Right eye is purplish-red, left eye is yellow-gold. Skin Tone: A light tan bronze with a gold-ish undertone. Body Type: Muscular and burly; built for stamina and strength. Long legs. Accent: Some sort of hybrid of the fancy speech of the high Ishgardian nobility and the common (British?) Ul’Dahn. He tends to sprinkle his speech with “thous” and “thees” he picked up as a follower of Urianger, and only ever uses contractions when particularly frustrated or flustered. Dominant Hand: Right-handed Posture: Ridiculously perfect at all times; it actually comes off as too stiff or formal to most people as he practically never lets his posture relax. Scars: Countless large and small upon his chest, back, stomach, arms, thighs... none on his face. He covers evidence of his scars well with his habit of constantly wearing discreet formal clothing. Tattoos: None.
CHILDHOOD.
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Place of Birth: Unknown - Found outside Ul’dah, at the church of Saint Adama Landama. Hometown: None; adopted son of a constantly travelling Eorzean merchant. He simply regards the region of Eorzea as his home country. Birth Weight / Height: Unknown. Manner of Birth: Unknown. First Words: Probably something generic like Papa. Siblings: Twin brother to Arc Beauregard; his best friend and partner in adventuring. Parents: Gwenneg Beauregard (Adoptive Father; Deceased) Parental Involvement: His father had a seemingly endless supply of stories for Alus of fantastical tales of knights, princes, and paladins who rescued damsels, protected the weak, and saved the realm from evil over and over again. The family was close and always there for eachother, doing practically everything together - always open, honest, and kind to one another. Alus will never forget his father, nor ever spend a single day not wishing he could see him alive and happy just one more time.
ADULT LIFE
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Occupation: Free Paladin, Military Field Medic, and Cafe Proprietor. Current Residence: Sleeping on the too-small couch of his personal Cafe Nobilitea. Close Friends: Arc Beauregard and Urianger; the latter probably thinks of Alus more as an acquaintance. Relationship Status: Single; not really taking dating very seriously right now. Financial Status: Constantly fluctuating; he has a bad habit of giving away his gil to the first random needy person he sees, or spending his pocket money on lavish dyes and glamours. Driver’s License: A rarely used chocobo racing license that qualifies him for high-level racing of the Gold Saucer chocobo races, and a proof of ownership card for his military-issued chocobo. Vices: Gambling, Shopping, Unwanted Lecturing, Rambling
SEX & ROMANCE.
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Sexual Orientation: Questioning (Asexual) Romantic Orientation: Panromantic Preferred Emotional Role: submissive | dominant | switch | unsure Preferred Sexual Role: submissive | dominant | switch | sex repulsed Libido: As someone absolutely inexperienced with romantic relationships, he believes that sex is an extremely sacred and personal romantic thing between two people deeply in love instead of something done for the simple sensation of pleasure, and becomes extremely flustered when personally talked to about sex. It’s just not something he particularly cares about besides the emotional meaning it may mean to someone he will one day care about. I think he understands some people care about sex more than he does, and he respects that. Turn Ons: Patiently being given the opportunity to take the lead in flirting ; Being able to help people ; Having his hair complimented ; Having a piece of his loose clothing cautiously held on to ; Being open & cheerful about his platonic love and devotion for someone he barely knows, and having that enthusiasm returned. Turn Offs: People entering his close personal space or being touched w/o his permission ; People who betray or lie to their friends and/or allies ; Being ignored ; Violence ; Vulgar language Love Language: When Alus likes a man, he is very upfront about it. He’ll throw around phrases like “I love you!” without restraint, even while barely knowing them. If he’s truly comfortable with someone, he’ll touch them first - Usually just as a hug or holding their arm or hand - That’s his sign to basically say “You can touch me back however you want.”. When he’s romantically interested in a woman, however, he’s the opposite of that confidence - He’s constantly stuttering, looking away, clearing his throat, trying so hard to just form a proper sentence, and squeaking out outright pleas for them to do something to stop being so damn attractive for ONE SECOND just so he can think clearly. He will NEVER touch a girl without her permission first. For nonbinary people, it may depend on if said person is more feminine or masculine. Relationship Tendencies: Alus has never been in a steady romantic relationship before, but I imagine he’s the sort of guy to bring flowers to his loved one every day, insist on cooking for them, constantly shower them in compliments, and greet them with an excited running attack hug. He’s like an excited golden retriever, he loves you so much.
MISCELLANEOUS.
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Hobbies to Pass the Time: Shopping, gaming/gambling at the gold saucer, baking, flower arrangement, coordinating new outfits, making simple jewelry, visiting grave sites of fallen acquaintances, and praying at statues of Nald and Thal. Mental Disorders: Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) Physical Illnesses/Disabilities: Minor small segments of numb nerve damage on random small segments on his body. Left or Right Brained: Right brain. Fears: Losing his loved ones, especially his brother ; Slugs & other slimy creatures ; Messing up in battle ; Being directly responsible for the deaths of others through his own negligence ; Being abandoned by all his friends and allies ; Being betrayed Self Confidence Level: Alus actively chooses to see the good in others and himself. He tries so hard to do this that it is practically an obsession; his personal code he will never break. Alus will never lose hope. He can’t lose hope.. Everyone is depending on him. Underneath it all, however, Alus is constantly terrified. He just does his best to think of the optimistic views in situations, and it often actually works for him. Vulnerabilities: His twin brother Arc ; Citizens he’s sworn to protect ; His allies ; His pets ; His acquaintances ; His Cafe ; His gut-reaction to react in absolute flustered embarrassment when aggressively flirted with ; People seeing him without his clothes - viewing the scars all over him in which he believes are grotesquely ugly.
Tagged by: @miqo-vynnie THANK !!!!!! ITS SO FLATTERING THANK ;_;<3
Tagging: I SINCERELY APOLOGIZE IF YOU’VE ALREADY DONE IT BUT @nozomikei @ladyrivienne @sacha-desyre @bookbornexiv @kohaku-son @oleandre-ffxiv @lalaliya AND EVERYONE ELSE WHO SEES THIS IM SORRY IF I DIDNT TAG YOU ITS NOTHING PERSONAL IM JUST RLY FUCKIN STUPID AND CANT REMEMBER WHOS ACTIVE
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The summertime of our lives, 6/6
Volume: 1.
Number of parts: 6/6.
Pairings: Ninetoo x Rose.
A/N: Written for @doctorroseprompts summer bingo. Five summer-themed words: Animal, Boat, Breeze, Magic, Wave (BINGO!). Tagging @thebookster on her demand.
“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” - William Shakespeare.
CHAPTER 6:
The fair was crammed with people. The summer was beautiful and hot and people preferred staying outdoors than going back home where they wouldn’t sleep because of the persistent heat. The Doctor wasn’t complaining. He liked the heat, the summer. After surviving a cold and harsh winter, he definitely preferred summer. But that summer, the first one he was sharing with Rose, was as special as fantastic. He wanted more of them. He wasn’t ready for winter to come back again with its colds and winds and rains. So he was enjoying this warm night out with Rose. They had shared an ice-cream, bought the banana shorts – he had even accepted to wear them tonight – and had had dinner in a nice little restaurant. Since then, they had been wandering around in town. He had been quite uncomfortable surprisingly. With Rose’s hand in his, nothing could go wrong. Just like the old times. Their steps eventually led them to the fair and Rose and acted like a five-year old child around the attractions. As a former Time Lord, this was all trivial pursuits. He had had no time for that when the universe kept calling out for help. Today, he was living a human life and his time was limited. He had to enjoy every minute of every day. He went on the merry-go-round with Rose, rode the ghost train – none of them were scared and they had a good laugh – jumped on trampolines, drove small karts – Rose mentioned something called Mario Kart but he didn’t get the reference. They spent lots of money in many attractions – the bumper cars were fun, especially when he was playing against an expert like Rose, and stopped for giant candy flosses. It was a break in their night of fun. The candies tasted different. He had never eaten something like this before and didn’t know if he liked it or not. It was sour and fizzy. Weird. And the faces he was making were amusing Rose. They were casually zigzagging between people when Rose’s eyes fell upon something that really caught her attention. Since her mouth was full of sugar, she just bounced up and down, a hand holding her candy floss, the other pointing at what she had seen. Her eyes were sparkling with joy and excitement. He followed the direction of her finger and sighed. Of course. Typical. Cliché. This was the attraction all the girls and women loved and every boy and man had to prove themselves on it. Rose was pointing at a giant unicorn plushie which was the biggest prize of their shooting attraction. Grab a gun, shoot the heart of the target and you were the winner. But the game was rigged and it was impossible to win. Here, the targets were replaced by old stuffed toys that weren’t up for sales because of flaws or wears. Small ones so they were harder to shoot. He could see where this was leading him. “It doesn’t fit in the car.” “I don’t mind.” “Do you known unicorns are fake animals created by humans?” “In our original universe, they are fake.” “And not in this one?” “I’ve seen one in my many attempts to get back to you.” “You kidding?” “Nope. The only proof is in Torchwood.” “You brought…” “I would never condemn anyone to that.” She finished her candy floss and tossed the stick in a bin. The Doctor imitated her and joined her in a couple steps toward the shooting attraction. She had such an aversion of Torchwood that she surely knew more about their activities than she was telling him. It wasn’t only because they had tested her. There was something else and she wouldn’t say a word about it. He wasn’t cleared to hear that information. When he would be the Doctor with his TARDIS again, he would dismantle the whole organisation brick by brick. “Win the unicorn for me?” Her aversion was gone. She was back at smiling and pleading him for that huge animal plushie. He could boast about him not doing domestics, about him being a strong male, she would always do all she wanted of him. So if she was watching him like this with begging eyes and batting eyelashes, he would give in without a second thought but with an annoyed sigh. And just with that, she knew she had won. She grabbed his hand and ran toward the attraction. They had to wait until the group of males before them was done with pretending they were any good to finally access the game. Rose dropped money on the counter. “One round for mister Big Ears.” “Oi!” protested the Doctor and Rose at the same time. “Pick your gun, shoot the toys. If you have them all, you win the giant unicorn.” The Doctor looked all the guns on the counter. There were different sizes and models. He picked a Sig Sauer. A Smith & Wesson would have been better, lighter, but it would do. He was given five little fluorescent green marbles. He slipped them in the charger and unlocked the security. He aimed. “Don’t shake like this, mate. This isn’t a real gun.” The man had no idea of what this gun reminded him of. Rose did. She realised she had done a mistake. Putting a gun in the hands of a war survivor, in the hands of someone deeply traumatised by the horrors caused by weapons. She put her hand over his. “Doctor,” she began softly. “You don’t have to do this. I’m sorry.” No. He didn’t want to give up. He wasn’t about to kill anyone. Not ever. He was the man who never carried a gun. His children of Time, as Davros called them, were his weapons. It wasn’t any better. In the end, there always were victims around him. He lowered the Sig. He had to clear his mind. “Sir, it’s just a game. If you don’t wanna do it, I give the money back.” To prove he was a man of his words, the stallholder pulled the money they had given him out of his cash case and pushed it back toward Rose. She was about to take it back when he clenched his teeth, aimed the gun and pulled the trigger five times. Only then did he put the weapon down. “You’d be a very bad killer,” commented a Scottish accent. Alec Hardy had joined them. He was on duty tonight, watching over the town in his grey suit with a messy tie. He was patrolling around when he had seen them. Seeing Maxence Spitz with a gun had caught his attention. He wasn’t an expert but he wasn’t a beginner either. He could hold a weapon but he wasn’t a good shooter. He had missed all the targets. “Would you be better?” the Doctor defied him in return. “I’m not armed, but I’m trained to fire so it wouldn’t be fair.” The detective was showing no hostility to him. He wasn’t entering the game. Had Rose talked to him? Or had he seen that he wouldn’t stand another chance? He simply asked how they were and dropped the news: a suspect had been arrested but he wouldn’t talk for now. This brought memories to the Doctor’s mind. Him, on the deck of a boat, a man above his body. He was sat against the railing, a cigarette in hand, and was meticulously burning the bruise skin of his torso; A laugh was echoing. It was disgusting, revolting. “Doctor?” He snapped back to reality. Rose and Hardy had taken him aside, away from the attraction, from people. Rose had her hands on his shoulders but her voice wasn’t getting to his ears. There seemed to have cotton in there but he could hear the music loud and clear. It was deafening; He cleared his throat. He had had an off moment but he was back. “Sorry, got lost in my thoughts. Happens often.” “No,” refuted Rose. “There was more to those thoughts. You had a memory.” Of course. He should know better than to lie to her. She would always decipher his mind. It was easier now that he was human. His brain was simpler, working like hers instead of working like one of those quantum computers they used in their advanced technology. It was rather frustrating sometimes. “’s nothing. I was on that boat, cigarette in hand and…” he swallowed, mimed the gesture of pressing a ciggy on his chest. “And someone was laughing. Nothing else. No face, no name.” Alec was writing down in his small notebook, Rose was stroking his hand with her thumb. Anger was boiling in her veins but she was unshaken. Except for him, no one could read her feelings. She was tough. Torchwood had changed her. Both in good and bad ways. “Anything else you’d remember?” The Doctor as about to snarl but the detective was just trying to help him. He was doing his job. The Doctor focused, gathered the little memories he had of that failed party. The deck and the laugh came back naturally. He was back on that boat. It wasn’t the yacht Rose and him were sharing. It was smaller. They were several like him, enslaved, compelled to do terrible things but he was alone when he was found. What had happened to the others? He concentrated on the laughing guy. He must have seen something. Anything that could help. The face as always blurred. He couldn’t see the features but there was… “On his arm. The right. He had a tattoo.” He was pointing at his own arm. Up the forearm, right before the elbow joint. A medium dark tattoo. It was representing some sort of logo. Something he had already seen. He drew it approximately on Hardy’s notebook and, from the corner of his eyes, he saw Rose’s face turning pale. She recognised the symbol. “That’s Torchwood. They have a special unit. All the members have this tattoo.” “What’s that unit up to?” “They’re like the SWAT or else, except they’re operating on paranormal stuff.” “There’s nothing paranormal.” “You’d be surprised,” replied the Doctor and Rose. Alec Hardy was too rational to believe in something extra-terrestrial or paranormal. That was better this way. The less he knew, the safer he was. That’s certainly why Rose had kept him in the dark on some aspects of her life. But like everyone in this world, he knew about Torchwood. At least about their activities on the face of it. Pharmaceutical researches and alien experiments. They were playing their cards close to their chest. “If he’s really from that special unit, you won’t get anything from him. He’ll be out before tomorrow morning. They’re untouchable.” That was highly displeasing for the detective. He put his notebook a pen back in the inside pocket of his jacket. He would do his own researches on that case. Rose had to leave them alone for a moment. Leaving the Doctor with Alec wasn’t the best of ideas because of their stupid rivalry but he was the only one she trusted to protect him just the time for her to call someone and settle a score. When she came back to them, the Doctor was hugging the giant uniform plushie with a gleeful grin on his face. Next to him was a moody Alec Hardy. They had spent the time she was gone to win the biggest prize. This was unusual for Alec. She grinned and hugged the soft toy and the two men, thanking Hardy for his work and help, thanking the Doctor for this unicorn for her. Their night of fun was over. The Doctor still needed rest and it was getting late. And Hardy still had work to do.
x
The window was slightly open and a fresh breeze was stroking their bodies. The night was hot and the Doctor couldn’t find sleep. Neither could Rose. So they were just lying there in bed, talking to each other. It was only light talks, funny words and projects for the near future. It was nice to think of the future. Of a future with Rose. He couldn’t imagine the rest of his life without her. “What about the tattoos?” He had noticed that she had the same and he had insisted on getting back the ribbon he had when he was found on that boat. He was keeping it with the sonic screwdriver. Precious objects. Her tattoos were as fresh and delicate as his. They couldn’t touch it yet. They had to heal first. They were getting itchy. “Oh. Yeah.” It seemed to sadden her that he didn’t remember this part but it wasn’t his fault. None of this was his fault. None of what had happened was his fault. He was the victim here even if this word would never be used in front of him. Calling him a victim would lead to a fight. It would hurt his ego, hurt his feelings. That’s not what she wanted. She wanted him to believe in himself again, to find a real self-confidence he was lacking of. So the word was forbidden. “One of the guests told us he was a specialist in particular weddings ceremonies like hand fastening. Your face lit up like Tony’s on Christmas morning. You said that it was what you wanted for us instead of a formal boring ceremony in white and, to be honest, the way you described the ceremony… I really wanted it. I wanted us to be married forever. And we did it. It was magical.” He could see the tears brimming in her eyes. They were tears of happiness because it had been such a beautiful moment. She found his hand and held it as while she told him the whole ceremony the vows they pronounced, the ribbon fastened around their hands and wrists. The memories were coming back to him – or was it his imagination – accompanied by the soft sound of her voice. Magical indeed. Maybe they had taken this decision too fast but he wouldn’t go back. He was Rose’s husband now and forever. And to seal the magic of the moment, they made sure to never forget that they were bonded by this ribbon, they had found an exceptionally open late tattoo parlour and asked for a matching tattoo. They had been lucky with the result. “What do you think Torchwood was doing here?” “Looking for something. The drug was only working on people not entirely human.” “You were affected too.” “Bad Wolf.” “But they weren’t after us. Or they wouldn’t have left us behind.” “Pete knows my opinion on the subject. If he lays a finger on you, Torchwood goes boom.” “That won’t stop them.” “I know.” “What do we do?” “Make no waves. Lie low. Then, we leave forever.” The Doctor couldn’t help but smile like crazy. Make no waves. As if it was possible for him not to make waves. He wasn’t running into troubles. They were finding him everywhere he was. Even when he was enjoying holidays with his now wife. And despite the inconveniences, it had been the summertime of their lives. One he would cherish for the rest of his short life…
THE END
The summertime of our lives © | 2019 | Tous droits réservés.
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#doctor who#doctorroseprompts#ninth doctor#rose tyler#doctor x rose#dw fic#prompt fulfilment#the summertime of our lives
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Paddywhack: Creation
There were times, between the games, the unhinged laughter, and the endless searching for new playmates, when he could recall the day everything changed. He remembered the voices, the screams, the pain…
It was a day he didn’t often recall, but on the rare occasions it did resurface, it left him with an unusual set of emotions.
Sorrow.
Emptiness.
Fear.
Rage.
They were feelings he didn’t particularly enjoy, and he would quickly move on to another distraction in an attempt to forget.
But there was no forgetting that day.
Deep voices were running together in various chants, as torches alit with bright orange flames cast dark shadows around the room. Five robed figures stood in a large circle, arms outstretched towards a large stone alter in the center.
Rivaling the loud chants, were the desperate cries of the boy chained to the altar. He twisted and writhed, fighting tooth and nail to escape the thick restraints, but they refused to give. Through the heavy blur of tears, he could just barely make out the dark shape of the cultist standing over him, his voice booming over the others.
“We call upon the dark power of the Insidibites! Come forth and accept this vessel as our offering to thee!”
“Transformatio! Transformatio!”
A horrible burning sensation took hold in his chest, as if someone had set fire to it, and it slowly began spreading out to the rest of his body. The agonizing pain increased his efforts to get free as his protests grew even louder, now screaming as loud as he could manage.
“Hear us, Insidibites! Take this vessel in our place as a sign of our devotion! Bestow thy power unto him, so we might be rewarded for our endeavors! We beseech thee, come forth!”
He joined in with the rest of the chanting, stepping away from the alter as a red glow emanated from it. The boy’s screaming increased to a shrill octave as his back arched at a frighteningly sharp angle, and feet were scrabbling against the smooth marble in search of purchase, due to the sheer agony that was now claiming most of his body.
Eyes on fire, fingers and toes felt as if knives were trying to tear through them, and his teeth ached and almost felt like they were growing longer, as if being slowly pulled from the root.
So much pain…
When would it end?
Would it be soon?
But he didn’t want to die. But he wanted the pain to stop.
But he didn’t want to die.
He didn’t want to die.
He didn’t want to—
:
:
:
The torches were snuffed out by an unknown source of wind, throwing the entire room into darkness.
The cultists were whispering amongst themselves, curious and fearful. One, the leader, stumbled over to one of the torches and relit it, and cautiously approached the alter again.
The boy had gone limp, eyes rolled back completely. He poked at the still form, but got no response, and he let out a curse.
“Lost another one…”
More disappointed mutters came from the others, whilst the head of the group proceeded to relight the rest of the torches.
“That’s the third one this month!”
“Why are they all so weak?”
“We just have to keep searching.”
“Yes, our persistence will surely please our masters!”
“Enough!”
The others fell silent, turning to the head cultist.
“We will find more vessels, but for now, we must rest and clean up. Brother Brom, take care of the remains.”
The largest figure nodded, and the rest started exiting the room as he approached the alter. He undid the restraints, nonchalantly lifting the unmoving form off the table—
A loud scream caused the others to turn back.
Brom was on the floor, unmoving and…missing a chunk from his neck.
And crouched on the table was the boy, watching them with bright red eyes.
“What…the…”
He slowly grinned, sharp teeth stained red, and he tilted his head in mock curiosity.
“Don’t I pretend good…?”
The torches were abruptly snuffed out again.
Screams broke the silence.
:::
He supposed it wasn’t all bad memories. After all, he’d had fun with those little cultists. Playing Hide and Shriek, Shadow Tag, Guess How; he and the head cultist had had a particularly rousing game of Twister. Unfortunately for him, his head hadn’t quite been able to go all the way around without losing a few…attachments. Needless to say, Paddywhack had won than game.
They’d foolishly believed they’d be given a slave, that he’d be at their beck and call. Such stupid beliefs...
As if the Insidibites would allow any of their own to be pulled to that level, even newborns. That had been their biggest offense, and thus had to be punished. Or so he'd been told, anyway, once the elders had arrived to greet him afterwards. To take him into their fold and train him.
And life had been a hell of a game ever since.
#paddywhack#dwd paddywhack#fanfiction#dark fanfiction#demon rituals#child trauma tw#death sorta#demons#darkwing duck#ducktales#paddywhack creation
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