#randall flagg fic

[voxmortuus]

Hi! It’s me the anon requesting for the dark fic about Alexander.. and honestly, write whatever makes you inspired about haha it’s up to you. He played a character in the stand as Randall Flagg so maybe something with that character?! Thank you 😍

⇘ PAIRING:⇙ Randall Flagg x F!Reader ⇘ UNIVERSE:⇙ The Stand ⇘ WORD COUNT:⇙ 4.5k ⇘ SUMMARY:⇙ All your life you've been seeing this man with a smiley faced pin in your dreams, well the end has come, and you're left with a choice. Tired, hungry, thirsty, and alone, you decide to take the kindness of one Randall Flagg under the impression that it's what you wanted. Agreeing to stay things quickly take a turn for the worst and you are forced to become his incubator. ⇘ TRIGGER WARNINGS:⇙ None of these trigger warnings are in order, so just read them and remember then as you read this. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT | Talk of Murder | Manipulation | Persuading for reader to keep drinking | Sexual coercion and Rape | Slapping both reader and reader slapping him | Spitting | Fighting Reader | Unprotected PiV | Choking Reader | Slamming Reader against glass window & floor | Hinted that reader has a violent past | Reader's face gets held down by boot | Abuse to Reader | Threatening Reader's life | Threatening Reader w/knife | Stabbing Reader | Blood & Blood Play | Captive Reader | Reader gets chained to bed | Reader is forced into breeding | Forced Impregnation | Forced groping | Forced inebriation | Forced Threesome | Unknowing drugging of reader | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ⇘ NOTES:⇙ I hope this brings you some joy. Also I'm sorry if this is just horribly written. ⇘ DIVIDER CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa ⇘ IN STORY DIVIDER:⇙ @voxmortuus ⇘ IMAGE CREDIT:⇙ @punksimulationn ⇘ TAGGING:⇙ @lenareallylovestoread ⇘ My Master Masterlist ⇙

It was a long walk from Winthrop, WA. Not to mention utterly trying, at this point, you were no stranger to death, let alone having to protect yourself. This outbreak made people go bananas. From people wanting to kill you, rape you, likely wanting to eat you, to those trying to tell you to seek out Mother Abigail, and those telling you to seek out Randall, you couldn't tell what was up who was down, and where was up. This outbreak has sent people into this pit of what? Craziness. Destruction. There were times when it wasn't so bad. Peaceful even. No cars speeding, no one screaming, no violence, just you, and nature.

After walking for almost three weeks, you're exhausted, damn near the point of tears, you're hungry and thirsty, and your body aches in places you didn't know could ache. There's this part of you that just wants to quit. But then you remember the dreams, that yellow smiley face pin, the blonde man that wanted to give you a bed to sleep in, a tall glass of ice water. He was kind to you, all he wanted you to do was to find him. Something about you being special. But why were you special? You were just some girl living in Winthrop, Washington... what made you so special that this mysterious man has been watching you. But the more you sit there, the more you think, the more you realize he's been watching you for a long time. Since you were a little girl. You remember the pin. His denim outfit, and the sound of his boots.

Wiping your face from the tears you look around, seeing more signs telling you who to follow and how far to go. Sniffling a moment you try to contain yourself, telling yourself once you find this man, you'll get your tall glass of water, you'll get your bed, and a shower. You just need to find him. You'll know it's him because you'll know that pin, you'll know that smile, that voice. And if he touches you, you'll know that too. Just have to go a little farther. Looking around you choose to take the well-traveled path. At least at this moment, you know it's bound to lead you somewhere. Especially out in the desert.

After a lot of self-motivation to not give up and to keep walking, you find yourself standing there on the border of walking into this ivory building so to speak, or to turn around and find yourself someplace else, was this where you needed to be? Probably not, but you know what, maybe it was too late to turn back, after all, you came all this way. Looking down at your feet, you were tired, worn out, thirsty, and hungry, and you just wanted a place to rest your feet, even for the night. Maybe this will be all right, right? Letting out a heavy breath, you cross into the location; it was like night and day. Looking around you felt like maybe you had made a major mistake being here.

Letting out a heavy breath you close your eyes for a brief moment and then a voice jolted you.

"What are you doing here?" They asked.

Looking over, you lick your lips. "I umm... I'm just passing through." You state, but the look they were giving you, that answer wasn't good enough.

"Leave her alone." a voice, a familiar voice, boomed out of nowhere, you know this voice, you've heard this voice, you've seen who this voice belongs to.

The person slowly backs away and you watch this man approaching you, dressed in denim with a bright yellow smiley-faced pin attached to his jacket you look him over, rubbing your eyes a moment you shake your head, he couldn't be the same one, it couldn't be, it really couldn't be. He was handsome, but his aura didn't read so handsome, not this time. Your heart pounded in your chest. Licking your lips, you were so thirsty. You look over him as he approaches you.

"You've come to the right place, I've been expecting you. Come with me, I can only imagine how thirsty you are." He states as he escorts you a little further.

"Oh, oh no, I don't want to Impose." You state stopping in your tracks and looking over everything, and look back at him, "You've been waiting for me?"

"Darlin' you've come this far, this must be where you want to be." He smiles a charming smile. "You can't tell me that you don't want a nice cold glass of water?" He asked. Looking over you, he licks his lips. "Don't you remember?"

Water did sound appealing but you don't quite answer. "I'd remember that pin anywhere." You stated looking at it. It gave you a small sense of happiness, maybe even a little bit of hope. You reach out to touch it.

"Or maybe something to eat, here, you'll never go without. Doesn't that sound good? A bed to sleep in? Food to eat, all you can drink, a place to rest your feet, a place where you matter?" He stops and looks down as you reach out and touch the pin. "You like that, don't you?" He asked with a small smile.

That did sound good, then you look over him and tilt your head. "I do... I really do." You say softly with a small smile before you scoff at yourself, shake your head, and drop your finger from touching the pin.

"You can't tell me that doesn't sound good. This is right where you want to be, you ain't gonna find that anyplace else." He stated with that charming grin. He holds out his hand. "Join me." He smiles again.

Chewing on the corner of your lip you look him over. With some hesitation, you reach forward and place your hand in his.

"Thatta girl." He mused as he takes your hand and kisses it before he takes you toward the large building.

As you walk a little further into the building, you see the debauchery, the craziness of it all, people doing as they pleased, no consequences, at least not that you saw. You were curious admittingly so, but you were still slightly unsure. He was going to have to win you, though, so far he was doing a good job, you were taken by his charm, his calm aura, and the smoothness of his voice. He knew what to say to rope you in, and it wasn't going to be the last time.

As he brings you toward the elevator you look out and down on everyone, your eyes go wide.

"How many were just passing through and chose to stay? Do you know each one of them?" you asked as your gaze keeps on the people below.

He chuckles. "Not all are as lucky as you. I have no idea, probably some more than others, but they are all here for a reason. Just like you." He stated.

He knew things others didn't know, things you've kept secret, he knew of those bad things you've done, and he knew you weren't just passing through. You were no better than the others below, but he has plans for you, plans that are not quite what you're expecting them to be.

Once the elevator reaches the top floor he guides you into his suite. Your jaw clenches as you take in a deep breath. Your body trembled a moment but you felt this soft relaxed feeling wash over you. He lets out a soft chuckle as he looks back at you as you stop and look around a moment before you are beckoned. You just want to take it all in but that was cut somewhat short. As he starts walking down the hall, others stop and stare, muttering to each other. Your brow furrowed a bit, and look down as you start walking closer to a set of double doors. As the doors open you follow him in and you look over your shoulder as you watch the others standing there staring at you and vanish upon the door closing.

You didn't understand why people were staring at you, watching you, even muttering and speaking about you. Why were they so in awe by the fact that the man in your dreams was talking to you and bringing you up to his living space? You had no idea. Biting your lip you let out a soft breath and look down at your feet as you trail behind the tall man dressed in denim. Left, right, left, right, it's like you had to mentally tell yourself to walk forward. Your jaw clenches at yourself, frustrated you had to think about such a mundane task as walking.

"Why were the people staring at me back there? It's like they've never seen you with another person before." You ask, likely chuckling, trying to find it amusing, but truthfully you're too tired to really even care.

"Because you're special, and they don't get to see special all that often."

"Why am I special?" you ask.

"Because you're with me." He smirked.

Getting to someplace for you to sit you look around before taking a seat, you look up at him and your brow furrowed trying to understand what made him so damn special and why was he in your dreams? Maybe it was the fact that you had those prosthetic dreams people talk about. That bit of internal hope of that being it is what fueled you into thinking that maybe you are here for a reason. You sit there and look up over this man for a moment and you try to observe his actions, when he sits, he sits with this calming aura.

Licking your lips you look down at your hands for a moment and think. "Thank you, for giving me a place, even for the night." You state.

"You'll want to stay, trust me." He smirked with a small wink.

"We'll see... I told you, I'm just passing through." You state softly.

He tilts his head and looks over you, he can see with you, it was going to take a little more effort than offering you the world. But that's okay, he wasn't in too much of a rush. Licking his lips he chuckled.

"Of course. Well, at least for tonight, you should rest up, eat something, and maybe think about staying. I could always use a good right hand." He smirked again.

Thinking about him your jaw twitches a moment before you let out a slow breath and nod. "Yeah, I'll think about it." You state looking down a moment as someone came up and offered you a glass of ice-cold water, thanking them and look back toward Randall and search his face.

"What is your name?" You ask.

"Randall." He stated.

"Randall..." you say softly. "You didn't ask me mine."

"I don't need to ask you yours. I know your name. But you're exhausted, have your water, something to eat, and you can find your room right down the hall with your name on a piece of paper hanging on the door." He stated.

Watching him he gets up and makes his way over to the large windows. You could tell he was thinking, or at least that's what you're going to tell yourself. You don't actually know if he is or isn't. But you'd like to assume so.

Smelling the food your head darts in the direction and you smile. It's exactly what you were craving. A delicious hot sandwich with curly fries and a cheese dip sauce. You take a bite and groan in pure satisfaction. Truthfully, as well-mannered as you wanted to be, you scarfed that sandwich down and you kind of hid behind a curtain of dust-filled hair and you let out a soft breath.

You went to speak, to thank him, but he was gone, your brow furrows, and you head to the room you were told was yours, taking the paper from the door you look around, people still staring at you you furrow your brow and walk into the room. Upon walking in you look around, wasting no time, you strip down and take a nice cool shower. Much needed to say the least.

It had been a few days, you had agreed to stay, to give it a chance, and Randall was thrilled to hear it, today was a day you got to spend with Randall, got to see the masses below doing god knows what. Today wasn't just any ordinary day, today you got to oversee a trial, a trial that had damned a man to death. A traitor. You were still trying to understand why he wanted you to see this. But it's because this man knew that you were no stranger to death.

"So, did they kill him?" He asked.

"Yes, they did. Was quite brutal." You stated.

"You're no stranger to that now, are you?" He asked again, looking over your face.

Your brow furrowed and you licked your lips remembering all those years ago. You clear your throat and look up. "I think I'll see myself out now." You state.

"Oh come on, do you really want to do that? You were enjoying your time here. You have everything you ever wanted handed to you. You don't need to want for anything, do you? I can give you so much more." He stated as he walked to you and pulled you close to him.

Your heart started to pound. "I really should go." You state softly.

Tilting your head up he looks into your eyes and shakes his head. "No, you really don't, and you know you don't. You chose to come here. You chose to stay here. This is where you want to be." He stated.

Was he right? He must be. You did choose to stay for the past few days. You did come here on your own accord. He really didn't force you to stay, that was a choice you made. Licking your lips you let out a soft breath and look over him a moment before moving away from him to look out the window. After letting you have a moment, it gave him time to make you a drink.

"Here, drink this, it'll calm your nerves." He stated as he handed you a glass, little did you know that the glass was actually a harsh liquor with some roofie mixed in.

"Thanks." You state as you take the drink and take a sip from it before coughing a moment and looking at him. "What is this?" You ask.

"Just drink it, I promise you'll feel better after." He smiled.

This man hadn't done you wrong yet so may as well right? You sigh a soft sigh and agree to drink the liquor. What he said made sense, and truthfully. Little did you quite realize the subtle manipulation, making it seem it was all your thoughts, that you were the one with the thoughts. Licking your lips you take a sip from the harsh drink and let out a soft breath as it was rough going down. After another sip, you look over at Randall and lick your lips a moment.

"Do you think you could add maybe some sort of fruit flavor to this? It's a bit harsh." You state, not wanting to sound ungrateful.

Though he didn't think of you as ungrateful, he simply chuckled and took the drink, and handed it back to you. "Here, Darlin'. Make sure you drink all of it. No drop left behind." He chuckled.

"Thanks." You state letting out another soft breath you lick at your lips and take a sip.

This fixed drink was much better. So drinking it was like drinking liquid candy. He didn't even ask you instead he started to refill your glass. He hands you the refreshed glass and your brow furrows a moment and you look over at him.

"Drink up, you enjoy that." He smiled.

He wasn't wrong, you brought the glass to your lips and you look over his face before looking down at all the people below. After the first drink, this one was sweeter than the last, maybe it was because he used less liquor, it was good, so it went down easier, and quicker, only for him to bring you a refilled glass. You look over his face and you tilt your head.

"Another?" you ask.

"You didn't finish your other one, take a drink."

You look at him. You could have sworn you finished your last drink. You make a small face and you look at him. "I finished my last one. I know I did."

"No, no you didn't. Here. You had two sips off the last one, take this, finish it, then I'll get you something to eat." He stated.

Taking the drink from him you clench your jaw and thank him again, and you start to slowly drink it before you realize that you're starting to feel a little dizzy. You move to take a seat but he keeps you standing up. He stands behind you and places his hands on either side of your hips. You try to move away from him, you didn't want the touch. You start to feel uncomfortable. You turn and hand him your drink.

"I should go." You state.

"No, finish your drink." He states as he doesn't move from you.

"No, I should go back to my room." You state honestly.

"I insist... finish your drink." He states.

Feeling dizzy you look at him and rub your face. You clench your jaw and shake your head. You set your drink on a nearby table and try to walk away but he grabs you and pulls you back.

"You're not going anywhere." He states firmly.

"Ye-yesIam." You state with a stumble.

He was starting to get irritated with you, he firmly grabs your arm and yanks you back. You growl and spit at him. "Let me the fuck go."

"You're not fucking going anywhere." He states wiping the spit from his face.

You begin to shove him but he shoves you against the glass window, instead of letting you fall he grips your arm and looks over your face before he snarls.

"You're staying right here." He growls.

Letting out a slight whimper you bring your hand to your head and attempt to slap at him to shove, stomp on his foot anything you can do to get away. He grabs you and he drags you to the bed and tosses you on it. You start to panic, but you are having a hard time pulling yourself together. You start to kick as you feel him climbing toward you. You have no idea what happened between the drink and now for him to do this. What did you say? What did you do? You are hitting pure panic mode.

"FUCK YOU!" You scream as you get off the bed and are beginning to crawl away.

Licking his lips he looks down at you, rolling up his sleeves of his denim shirt after tossing his jacket to the side he walks to you and pulls your leg toward him, and flips you over. You attempt to escape again but he takes his boot and presses it against the side of your face forcing your face against the side of the floor. You attempt to fight and call for help, but there wasn't anyone coming to get you, they all knew better than to walk into this room without his direction.

"LET ME GO!" You fight but it was getting more and more difficult to keep yourself awake.

"I'm not letting you go." He stated as he kept his foot against your head.

"Why are you doing this? What did I do?" You ask.

"You're chosen... you can handle this. Stop fighting." He notes your breathing as it started to slow.

Waking up you feel groggy, sore, and chained to a fucking bed?! You move your hands over yourself and find yourself completely nude, feeling between your legs you feel where he's used you. You snarl and you go to stand up and move but you are quickly brought back to the bed. Reaching up you find that you're collared and chained to the bed like some sort of animal.

"What the fuck?!" You yell.

He walks around the corner and smirks. "Oh, you're awake. Good."

"What the fuck!" You snap. "Did you..." You reach between your legs. "Was this you?!" You snap.

He chuckles. "Oh yeah, and you screamed and moaned like you were absolutely enjoying it more than the last time you were fucked." He chuckled again.

"How dare you?! WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!" You slap him across the face.

With a snarl, your face meets the back of his hand. "I fucking own you that's who the fuck I think I am. You enjoyed it. You were begging for more, and I gave you more. You should thank me." He stated.

"Why am I here? Who are you?! Why were you in my dreams?!" You snap.

"You're here because you wanted to be here, you came here on your own, just like how you climbed into my bed on your own. I have it all on video." He states as he pulls out a remote and turns on the TV and rewinds to last night.

Sitting there you watch as you climb into the bed, and start taking off all your clothing, groping yourself, and playing with yourself. You watch him strip down, and begin to have his way with you. You watch as he calls for someone else. You then watch yourself begin to fight. It's clear you're begging, but you're begging for him to stop as the other man comes in and strips down, and both of them are having their way with you. You watch as you fight but they are both restraining you, taking turns filling you.

You're angry, feeling like you're going to be sick. You look at him. "What the actual fuck? Do you think I was begging you to do that? It looked like I was begging you to stop." You state with a small growl.

"Begging is begging." He stated. "And baby, you were begging." He stated with a chuckle and an emphasis on the begging aspect.

Disgusted, you tremble in utter disgust. Clenching your jaw you walk over and throw your fist against his face with all your might before you start slapping him and kicking him. You were angry, furious, feeling used and abused and violated. Rightfully so. You were quickly brought to a halt when he grips your throat, slams you into the floor, and kneels down on top of you straddling your body. You go to try and punch again.

"Hit me again, and I will fucking kill you." He snarled and grabbed his knife from under the bed.

"Then fuckin kill me. I'm far better off dead at this point." You hiss after spitting in his face again.

Taking the blade he stabs it into your side, missing all vital organs and arteries, his goal wasn't to kill you, but to scare you. He snarls. You snarl back and for what? What were you going to do? You couldn't do anything but you start to scream feeling the rush going away, and a foreign object stabbing into you, your eyes go wide and let out another scream before he rips it from you. With your hand, you reach to your wound and feel the blood pouring out of it. You slap it across his face, snarling he jerks you and slams you into the floor again, feeling light-headed from being slammed into the floor you try and find your bearings.

He takes his own hand and brings it to the blood and smears it on your body, the bright red against the contrast of your skin was something he enjoyed very much, it excited him, moving to settle himself between your legs you begin to try and fight him, still woozy, he takes the blood from your side and slides it up your legs, coating your inner things in it before he strips down and looks down at you. Licking his lips he wastes no time shoving his already-stiffened cock into you. You let out a scream and begin to kick and thrash yourself to get away from him but it's not working.

You begin to cry, screaming, pleading for him to stop.

"I don't think so. Take it, enjoy it. You're going to carry my child. The last bitch killed my child, but you'll make a fine incubation chamber for my spawn." He snarled.

You didn't want that, you didn't need that.

"NO! NO! NO! STOP!" You begin to sob. "Please stop."

It's like you lost all your strength, it's like it was drained from you as he thrusts into your wet center with no cares.

Thrust after thrust, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoed into the room, the stickiness of the blood keeping your legs against him. You just lay there, whimpers of crying, whimpers of being thrust into, but not whimpers of enjoyment, not whimpers of love or desire, but whimpers nonetheless. Your eyes cast to the side as your head turns to face the bottom of the window. You tried to find your happy place as he uses your body you can't find the fight in you anymore, you feel like all you've done is fight. You feel this anger bubbling inside you as you hear him growl and snarl.

He grips you and lifts your hips a bit to get a deeper penetration to deposit his seed... again. Your jaw clenches. Incubator. It's the only word that echoes in your mind.

Standing in the bathroom, bruised, stitched up, poorly mind you. You look over yourself in the mirror, your eyes red and swollen from crying. Your lips cracked and bloodied. You break down in tears, feeling every ounce of pain in your body from the past two days. You had been used, fighting him off, running your hand over your tummy you shake your head.

It all seemed to happen so fast, and you have so much regret in you, you hate all you've done, you hate everything you've done to yourself and those you've hurt. You suddenly feel like you need a priest and a confessional. You sob harder in the bathroom, the only time you have alone and to yourself. You shake your head and looked down at yourself.

"He's not going to be allowed to keep you..." You clench your jaw.

Suddenly there became a bang at the door.

"Do you like living?" He asks.

"Not with you I don't." You snap.

"You should be so lucky I chose you. Women would kill to be in your shoes." He stated.

[kaphkas]

Then he was looking at her, walking forward, smiling warmly, and her first shocked thought was: Why, he’s my age!

Randy Flagg’s hair was dark, tousled. His face was handsome and ruddy, as if he spent much time out in the desert wind. His features were mobile and sensitive, and his eyes danced with high glee, the eyes of a child with a momentous and wonderful secret surprise.

[pokerized]

pushing the randall flagg/lloyd henreid tag on ao3 with a stick knowing damn well i'm an author and can make my own content

[general-kalani]

A drabbled fic for @withthedoubleg because I can't get this scene out of my HEAD- (they didn't ask for it but I'm giving it to them shhh)

Warnings: Fire, arson (in a sense), death, emotionally scarring Joseph, blood, manipulation, swearing, depression, other stuff I probably missed (lmk so I can put it here!)

Ship: None

Prompt: None

"Is this your triumph?"

Long ago, he wouldn't have hesitated. He would've exclaimed from the mountainside "yes! This is my greatest triumph, look at this Eden God has provided for my people!"

But now, on his knees with palms raised to the sky as his hands had fallen on top of his legs, stared from the cliff down to the fires of New Eden. He couldn't say it now. Homes destroyed and burned, he had no idea where his Judge has gone or whether they were dead too.

His flock was surely all gone now too. Dead. All because his son was jealous.

Envious that he had allowed an outsider to taste the fruit of Eden.

His son wasn't saved either. None of the Seed family was and now he was the last...

Their only fault was that they were related to him one way or another and now he had to carry the burden of their deaths upon his shoulders. He was responsible, he led them to their demise.

But it certainly didn't help that the Voice was finally silent. God had abandoned him long ago he finally saw it. The Voice was nothing more than a fabrication of his own mind made so long ago when he was weak and vulnerable to be able to deal with trauma from when he was a child.

But it also didn't help that Randall, that sick demon bastard, had brought them to their demise. John was the first to be influenced by that twisted fuck before he'd taken Randall back. Fearful for Jacob and Faith...

And they were gone too, despite his attempts to protect them. Despite everything he'd done to take care of them.

And now Ethan, his poor son. It had been years since he'd seen Randall yet he looked no different, especially when he'd caught the man speaking to his son when he was just a boy.

Despite everything he tried, despite all he attempted to keep his son safe and away from Randall...

He gaze moved to the tree of Eden. Once something that saved his flock, now a mockery as he had put a flame to it with Ethan's body beside it.

Maybe he too will be consumed by the flames. A reprieve that God wouldn't give to him.

The man who caused so much trouble for him, for his family, moved to stand in front of him. A smile on his face.

And all Joseph could do was stare. The face of a devil that he now only saw solace in. God had abandoned him, but there was one constant in his life and even now, even when he had won wouldn't leave.

"... Save me from this nightmare. Please."

And those hands of Randall's moved to his cheeks. A mockery of their first meeting. He knew there was no warmth within this man or his actions.

And yet he felt comforted in the hold all the same.

[h3nr31ds]

chapter two of my underreids/larrylloyd fic is out!: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55067302/chapters/140385238#workskin

you can read chapter one here

[titleleaf]

fic writer self-recs

I got tagged on this by Mardia!

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers.

Took me ages to get around to this because I've been flirting with danger aka writing for fic exchanges again but the thing I love more than writing is talking about shit I've already written, so. Five self-recs of my own work! I'm trying to avoid my usual Greatest Hits-type stuff here and talk about stuff that has an especially affectionate place in my heart.

give you what you need - Stranger Things, Eddie Munson/Jim Hopper/OMC + Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington 

I love writing for kink memes so much, you guys. This is a piece of Stranger Things smut where Steve is the unwilling voyeur to Eddie Munson getting spitroasted by bad men in positions of authority, one of whom is dad bod Chief Hopper, and Steve is super horny and super emotionally confused about it, and Eddie is super emotionally confused and semi horny about it, and then they go watch Highlander in the theater together. I believe in porn conceits played for drama and I also believe in inventing a bad man to DP the other side of your blorbo. 

abracadabra, here's the keys to the kingdom - The Stand, Randall Flagg/Larry Underwood

Writing Randall Flagg doing very bad things to people is my life's joy, and I had a lot of fun writing him doing very bad things to Larry Underwood during the course of that hopped-up coke-crazed house party that leaves him so catastrophically in debt to other bad men. It's really fun to play in Stephen King's sandbox, always, and to unravel some of this novel's threads, but I keep writing Randall Flagg using magic to fuck with people. If I'm being really declarative and bold, I'd say I put all the gross sex stuff in here to remix and re-examine the highly gendered sexual horror around Flagg's cold cold snaky dick, but I also was just not really there for the cold dick at the time. Maybe I will be in the future.

No Shortage Of Blood-verse - Whiplash (2014), Fletcher/Neiman

Fletcher/Neiman Gone Girl AU, my beloved. Is this my "best-written" fic? Probably not. Is it the fic that has given me so fucking much joy? Sure is! 

To The Skies Only - Ravenous (1999), Boyd/Ives

Cold-weather cannibal domesticity with a really narsty bit of flesh-consumption and playing with the canonical healing factor that comes with the film's depiction of cannibalism as almost a form of vampirism. 

oh but jesus was a crossmaker - Cape Fear (1991), Max Cady/Danielle Bowden

This film is exactly the kind of profoundly flawed specimen that gets my brain's wheels turning, and I had a wonderful time writing for it and exploring one of the elements that's the most odd and engaging, namely the deeply fucked villain/heroine dynamic between the wildly sleazy, undeniably dangerous antagonist (by far the most memorable aspect of the film) and the troubled teenage daughter of the nominal MC who hankers to act out but gets way more than she bargained for. I love love love a disgusting crime road trip and I had a lot of fun writing this one. 

*

In turn I would like to tag @forthegothicheroine @marypsue @shredsandpatches @jouissants and: youuuuu, the ficauthor reading this.

[residentdormouse]

20 Questions for Writers

Thank you for the tag, @thecharmedburrowspn-files - your timing is insane. I just started writing again after months of inactivity. (Only 500 words, but shhhh. Progress 😅) We'll see how long the motivation train lasts, but fingers crossed I can ride it for a while.

How many works do you have on AO3?

Only 4 and one is tiny. Nothing to brag about here. Only started posting on AO3 in '21.

What is your total AO3 word count?

292,884

What fandoms do you write for?

It's really only The Stand. I have 517 words in the Stranger Things fandom with 'Even in Death', so it feels kind of cheap to include that. My newest work is original, so no fandoms at all. I have one that is tabled for now that goes into True Blood a bit, but I'm not sure if that's really going anywhere.

What are your top five fics by kudos?

'Something like a Spiral' got a whole whooping 17 kudos. That's my leader. Yup, we're good here.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Of course! I just wanna talk to people about my favorite blorbos, and if you're commenting, then you probably at least understand vaguely what I'm rambling about. Small fandom is small, and I welcome all interaction.

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I would say the ending of 'Just Keep Diving Down' gets this, although I would call it more bittersweet. It's not the happy ending the characters would have wanted, but it's far from the worst. There is some massive angst (MCD) towards the end, so fair warning there, but death isn't necessarily the end.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

'Something Like a Spiral', I suppose. Can you really have a completely happy ending with this setting? But, I'd say it's the happiest of the options. It's hard for me to say 'Supply Run' because they're all one shots, and I really don't feel like there is an 'end' per se. It's more like outtakes in my mind. But some of them end on a good note.

Do you get hate on your fic?

Thankfully, people have kept all negative comments to themselves. Hopefully, there's not many out there.

Do you write smut?

Eh, if you can call it that. I'm not overly explicit, but there is sex. Enough that I feel the need to put '***' lemon warnings before and after like the fanfiction of old.

Do you write crossovers?

The 'True Blood' story I mentioned before is a cross with 'the Stand' and the world I created for 'Diving'. I just wanted Eric to have to deal with Flagg and vice versa. Who better to deal with their shit than their own doppelganger. Karma.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of. Hopefully not. I'm in a small fandom though, and the only person writing with a focus on my preferred blorbo. Not sure anybody else would want it.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic?

No, and I wouldn't even know where to begin on this. I would be up to try though! I've done short RPs before, I would assume it's somewhat similar?

What's your all-time favorite ship?

I do like the Mulder/Scully ship that was mentioned. I could go for Katniss/Peeta time. Buffy/Spike. There are a few. In Stand world, I'd never be able to split Stu/Fran, and I'll jump on board the Lloyd/Flagg train. (Although, I do love redemption, so I'd rather see a good 'Randall get your shit together' spin to it.)

What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The True Blood crossover. It doesn't make much sense without reading my prior Stand stories, and honestly, I don't know if anybody even made it through the whole thing. Again, small fandom, I'm inserting OCs, only person writing with a focus on Glen. It's a very catered only to me story, and a long one at that. (101k for the first and 186k for the second.) So yeah, tacking on something to the end of that, eh, may just stay in my head as thoughts for funsies.

What are your writing strengths?

I have just about zero self confidence, so I'm not sure? I would really hope it's keeping the tone and voice and motivations of characters consistent. Obviously they'll change throughout the story; everybody is affected by what happens to them. Change is inevitable. But are their changes consistent to their character? I hope so. Character development was always my favorite part in building a story.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I have just about zero self confidence? I don't know if I get too convoluted with the story. If I force too much change to what I want to see. Am I clear with what I say? And there's always goddamn typos no matter how many times I proofread...

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Aside from simple phrases, I'll pass. I don't want to butcher somebody's language, and I'm definitely not proficient in any other language. Hell, I can barely get English right. Massive respect to anybody who can do this.

First fandom you wrote for?

I just started here recently, so the Stand is really it for me.

Favorite fic you've ever written?

They all have a soft spot in my heart (which, I mean, you're supposed to write for you, right?) Spiral was my first, and has a lot of scene that I go back to read, so I guess that? But it is very close to canon in a lot of scene and plot, so Diving is more original in the overall story, I suppose. And Supply Run is a short at straight canon compliant scene inserts. So they each have their arguments.

If you would want to join, no pressure tagging to: @imagine-you @mrsmungus @cxttlefishcxller @asirensrage @darknightfrombeyond and @fattybattysblog

And anybody else who wants to join! OPEN TAG!

[ao3feed-thor]

The magic that I know

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/dAKlrkg

by seriously_speaking

Even if it's a new boyfriend, Walter always finds a way to take away the things Roland loves the most... Even if he has to get his new lover to fuck him to do so.

Words: 1899, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Loki (TV 2021), The Dark Tower (2017)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Loki (Marvel), Heimdall (Marvel), Roland Deschain, Walter Padick, Randall Flagg, Marten Broadcloak, Thor (Marvel)

Relationships: Heimdall/Loki (Marvel), Roland Deschain/Loki (Marvel), Roland Deschain/Walter Paddick, Walter Paddick/Loki (Marvel)

Additional Tags: Mild Smut, Past Relationship(s), Jealousy, Established Relationship, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hate Sex, Strangers to Lovers, Top Loki (Marvel), Infidelity, Crack Relationships, ridiculous fic

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/dAKlrkg

[impuretale]

Slowly Turns the Spinning Wheel - Cover concept

Infinite Painter literally will not let me make many more changes to this file without it locking up, so it is finished until I find a way to reduce the file size that’s workable. So part of the background and some additional elements I had planned will remain undone, alas.

But here’s a cover mockup I scribbled together for book 1 of my crossover series! -- [The Stand/OUAT Crossover Fic] Book 1 (finished): Slowly Turns the Spinning Wheel | Book 2 (in Progress): The Angels Before the Rows

[voxmortuus]

To my Alexander Skärsgard dark!fic anon requester.

I will absolutely do one for both Randall Flagg and Monroe! I will respond to your asks with the fic but I wanted you to know that I have your requests. And I will absolutely do them both!!!

[titleleaf]

🍌, 🍏, 🥝 for the ask game pls 😘

🍌 In your opinion, what’s the funniest joke/reference/pun you’ve made in a fic?

Oh no… unfortunately I think it's an excruciatingly dark and unpleasant joke in one of my Mindhunter fics, but referencing other Stephen King works in fic for The Stand (or frankly The Dark Tower) is one of life's great pleasures for me. In a pre-Captain Trips fic where Randall Flagg is sowing discord at a music industry party and chatting up Larry Underwood with evil intent:

"You've got what those guys had, except you're alive and kicking. What are they paying you these days, Larry? You don't have to tell me right now, but I know it's not enough. Right now at Columbia they're telling you you've been discovered and they think you'll be so grateful for anything at all — you're like the girl with pimples who gets voted prom queen. So happy to be up on that stage, she doesn't know the joke's on her, or she doesn't care. Do you really think you're getting what you're worth?"

🍏 Is there something you overuse, whether it’s a certain phrase, trope, or piece of punctuation?

Can't remember the term for it, but sentences with additional clauses offset by commas -- sometimes modifying the earlier sentence, sometimes just because I'm playing fast and loose with structure. Also like 60% of people on here it seems, em-dashes.

🥝 What’s your favorite trope/AO3 tag to write?

Consent issues! I also love to write pre-canon/post-canon fics, judging by my most used tags on AO3 itself, but that only feels notable if we're comparing and contrasting with someone who likes to do episode tags/missing scenes or something.

Thank you so much for sending me one of these! My God, there are so many fruit emojis.

[residentdormouse]

Ten Lines Tag

Rules: Pick any ten of your fics, scroll to the midpoint, pick a line (or three or more) then share it. Tag others if you want.

Tagged by: @mrsmungus, @themaradaniels

Presumptuous of you all to think I have ten fics 😂😅😬 (I have 3, and one is a whole grand total of 512 words 😖). So I guess, here's what I got??

-------------------------------------------------------

Something Like a Spiral

Fandom: the Stand (2020)

Pairings: Glen Bateman/OC, (Canon Fran Goldsmith/Stu Redman & Implied Lloyd Henreid/Randall Flagg)

Rating: M - canon typical violence, language (I say fuck a lot y'all), some smut scenes (marked in chapter to avoid if not preferred reading), drugs (so much vaping)

Words: 101,101 / Completed Work / 33 Chapters

Excerpt from Chapter 14: Popcorn Glass

He knelt in front of her, holding her head upright, hand on her cheek. "Come on, Hayden, I need you to wake up… Please..."

She moved into his hand and he felt her take a deep breath. As her face began to drift into a relaxed position, the static began to fade.

Glen barely had time to feel the relief when he heard two quick claps behind him. Standing in the doorway, Stan had a concerned look on his face, cigarette dangling out of his mouth. It would have been comical if the situation were different.

"Did it work?" Hayden's voice jumped in, tone indicating she was unaware of preceedings.

In a matter of seconds, he was in front of her, pulling her up, holding her tightly against him. As her arms curled around his back, head resting on his shoulder, he felt himself relax as well.

Thinking himself in control of his emotions, Glen took a step back. All it took was one look at her confused face, just one and he fell back to instincts once more. In seconds, he pulled her close, lips meeting hers. The desperate nature behind it was reminiscent of their interactions on the road. Slowly, he regained himself and his hands made their way to sit on her shoulders, pulling back to give her a look over once more.

Oblivious to any previous danger, she let out a breathy laugh, but his expression stayed set with concern. "I'm not complaining about the wake up, but--"

"Are you alright?"

Another chuckle was made at the notion that she wouldn't be, but it stopped once she spotted the red stain on his shirt. Right where her face had been. Her hand shot up to her nose and pulled back with fresh blood. She realized now.

"Fuck me, what happened...?"

-------------------------------------------------------

Just Keep Diving Down

Fandom: the Stand (2020)

Pairings: Glen Bateman/OC, Nick Andros/OC, Harold Lauder/OC, Lloyd Henreid/OC (Canon Fran Goldsmith/Stu Redman & Implied Lloyd Henreid/Randall Flagg)

Rating: M - canon typical violence, language (I say fuck a lot y'all), some smut scenes (marked in chapter to avoid if not preferred reading), drugs (so much vaping), major character death (there is some happiness to be found at the end of it all)

Words: 166, 017 / Work in Progress / 33 Chapters (of 36)

Excerpt from Chapter 24: Come On Pretty Monster

That luck was short lived as Hayden threw the door open and reached the control panel. She really didn’t know what else she should have expected. Even if she did have her key card, it would be no use, any pull she had was bound to be removed sometime ago. And now with this damn thing weighing around her neck impeding her ability to do anything beyond normal physical means…

"There might have been a way with magic, but I can't—" And then it hit her. She couldn’t. Her magic was shot. Didn't mean they couldn't use magic at all. "Do you trust me?"

"Do I really need to answer that?"

While Glen’s smile, his subdued attempt at humor, the conviction he had for her, it was all appreciated but, the response wasn’t exactly what she was looking for. Their faith in each other had been established some time ago.

"You, no. Lloyd, yes."

Wide eyes looked back at her as Lloyd was thrown on the spot. His hesitance was highlighted, and indicated he was astutely aware of where this type of question usually led. Nowhere good. And he was terrified of what it was about to put on him.

"Shit, when you say it like that…"

All that was needed to stress the urgency was the sound of a body smashing alongside the nearby wall, a reminder of what was happening around them to prompt a more direct answer.

"Fuck, yes! I trust you, okay!"

-------------------------------------------------------

Even in Death

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairings: none

Rating: G/T - some swearing

Words: 512 / one-shot

Excerpt:

Wavy brown hair popped up from behind the preset barrier. Lights flickered around them, and they could only watch as the table between them hovered slightly and crashed back down to the ground.

“Did you think they could protect you?”

The voice came from Eddie, but it was distorted. Warped in a way only he would be able to imagine. A character only he could create.

“You are all that’s left. Their fate lies on you. Do you flee?”

-------------------------------------------------------

Tagging: @asirensrage, @chickensarentcheap, @imagine-you, @anniesocsandgeneralstore and open tag to anybody who would like to gush about their works! Please @ me!!

[scxrsgxrd]

The descriptions in this are phenomenal!!😧

Note: This little drabble is sort of playing off my Henry Deaver story, "Son of Perdition," but it's not required reading. It also briefly references another Stephen King show without any spoilers.

"Father of Lies"

Sometimes, Henry sensed he was not alone. It came to him first in the cage, dropping like a snake from the ceiling and coiling on the floor, ready to strike. In the darkness, he felt its forked tongue flick at his ear, but he was too weak to move away. The serpent knew that. It knew everything from his deepest fears to his most desperate desires, and it coiled around his throat and whispered them both into his ear until he couldn't tell where his thoughts ended and its voice began. Sometimes it lingered for days, seeping in like poison and shrouding his mind in a black mist. Other times, it evaporated suddenly and left him alone again, pining for its return. He thought it wouldn't follow him when the baffled guards at the prison pulled him out of his cell and into the light. But it hung in the air in the infirmary, its oppressive presence filling the room with malice. Henry understood that it was this entity who had ripped him from his own reality. For what purpose, he did not know. It craved violence, inciting it around Henry while watching from behind his eyes. It could take possession of his body if it wanted to, but it preferred to compel his submission with the power of suggestion rather than force. He felt it skitter over his flesh like spiders when he realized that the prison administrators were conspiring to have him killed. His existence was a stain they wanted to blot away, and they were willing to snuff it out if it made their jobs easier. Before he knew it, he was bunking with a dead man. A sick pleasure twisted in his gut. Henry wasn't sure if it came from himself or from the darkness that held him in thrall. He felt it slither in his veins and hiss into his ear.

"Attaboy."

[lvss94]

Ok, ok...I just finished the stand sooo, if anyone knows any fics/imagines etc with the one and only, mister Randall Flagg please DM me or send me an ask. Love 🖤

[bowdowntolouis]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30648386

link to my Randall Flagg/Lloyd Henreid fic 

pt. 2 probably coming soon

[impuretale]

Preview of Today’s Chapter

It was not often, or even heard of, that an open wound sent this man into a rage, only to have the human embodiment of a smirk come and take a hard scratch at it just as the blood had begun to coagulate.

Apparently, even manic wizards could have their limits.

It was not merely a slight, but rather that no one had both the knowledge or the lack of comprehension of where they stood -- nor, the suicidal impulse -- to search for a sore spot and dig at it.

He heard and hated every word and the world around them burst in fury. A gust of wind pushed through, as though the jungle itself sucked in a yawn before a scream from the bottom of its guts, lit by the alarmed screams of every living creature in its branches and brush, and the Dark Man sprang forward.

Mozenrath flinched back at the sudden shift, failing to anticipate how much energy his opponent could draw at a deficit. A falter where an opening was found and exploited. He was not quick enough to avoid the hands reaching out for him like claws.

Somewhere across an entire axis of the earth, Lloyd Henreid might have felt that familiar clench of warning in his stomach. The moment when someone had very much said the wrong thing. And there were classes of wrong when it came to Randall Flagg or who he was fully becoming again. New Vegas and whatever hovel of gathering power that village had become (before it was leveled in his own blind rage) had been bastions of careful, ferociously guarded control. Where idiot defiance would be snuffed out but also used, fear that would ensnare the masses and reassure his place over theirs.

He was not a king over anything right now, this time by his own doing, and then by the creature that was somehow hidden in the black, glints of tooth and scale and deadlight eyes appearing in crevices of shadow that should have been far too small to hold its mass.

Knowledge of its presence did not preclude him from being dangerous. If destiny so willed it, even the most friendly, helpful impulse could spell your doom with a grin and a secret gift.

And Walter Padick was not typically prone to the same aimless passions that Randall Flagg could easily fall into when things did not go his way. He could be more calculated. He could (usually but not always) see pitfalls well before his feet would land on them. He would sense bait and employ caution.

But it had been a very long time since he had ever been so blatantly goaded. Flagg more recent, but hit by marks that the pitcher in question had only stumbled into accidentally.

And today, he happened to be both men. Today was an off day.

It was Mozenrath's fortune (or lack thereof) to welcome the full force of that.

--

[The Stand/OUAT Crossover Fic] Book 1 (finished): Slowly Turns the Spinning Wheel | Book 2 (in Progress): The Angels Before the Rows - Today’s Chapter, 36.