#randall flagg i know what you are

[h3nr31ds]

i won’t lie to you guys this was fucking insane

[catocomet]

NO MR KING I CANNOT DIG MY MAN!!!!! HE IS NOT A RIGHTEOUS MAN!!!! STOP ASKING!!!!!

[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.

[ill-skillsgard]

What’s your favorite movie/show from a each of the Skarsgards?

Ouuu, well some of these might be obvious, but I'll try not to write a novel about how much I love the Skarsgards in almost everything! Let us start with the king. Our beautiful, perfect, hilarious and talented Bill... AKA the man of my dreams. AKA Horror Daddy. AKA the most gorgeous man who has or ever will exist. This is such a hard choice, but I have to credit his role as Pennywise as what introduced him to me, or rather, what got me HOOKED. Bill cemented himself in the horror genre as a God with this role. Not only that, but both chapters of the film are some of the best horror that has ever been done, period. I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for IT. Honorable mentions goes to Villains because Mickey was sooo devastatingly charming and Bill was made for the role. I'd say Castle Rock too but then I might as well list everything he has ever done both big and small because I just love him in everything, always.

Now, onto my sweet baby Valter. Historically, I have rejected anyone's negative opinions about my BEAUTIFUL BOY and will continue to do so until the day I die. Okay, he's a bit of a brat, he's not as well-known as his father or brothers, but he is my 2nd favourite Skarsgard (sometimes in my brain he is number 1.) Valter Odd Skarsgard has this voice that narrates my fantasies, and lips I dream of often. So tall, mmph. So gorgeous! That smile, oh my GOD. My underrated man.

Valter dropped a nuke on me with his role as Faust in Lords of Chaos. This movie means more to me than the fact that Valter is in it. The story itself and the period of metal music in Scandinavia has always been on my radar, and then Valter shows up as my ACTUAL type and ruins me. Do I think Faust is a good guy? No. Do I think that Valter with long black hair, a leather jacket and a bullet belt is the most attractive thing on the face of the earth? Yes. Great film, directed by the legendary Jonas Akerlund... What could be better?

Now, when it comes to Gustaf Skarsgard, I feel like I cannot choose between Merlin and Floki. Both have such chaotic energy. Both were so well-played. Then there's the short film he did with his father, directed by Bill and Landon Liboiron. HE IS A SHAPESHIFTER. So talented. So handsome. Ugh, just ridiculously gifted in the art of acting. But I have to give it to Merlin because I have never wanted to be on an alcoholic wizard before. Would I rewatch Cursed over Vikings? I don't know. Would I watch a standalone series of Merlin? YES. Would I watch a standalone series about Floki? ALSO YEAH. Tough decisions here. Ahhh, give me that silly wizard man. I want him! Cursed was great and they were wrong to cancel it!

Then of course, there's Alexander. A Golden God. As talented as he is attractive. This one is very hard because he's been in a lot of really good shows and films that I love. I wanted to pick his role in Zoolander because I think it's one of the best comedy bits I have ever seen (ORANGE MOCHA FRAPPUCINOS) but I can't do him like that. I think I would have to go with Randall Flagg in The Stand, not only because it's another Stephen King adaptation with another Skarsgard, but because he annhilated that role and looked so damn good doing it. And also BEARD (idc if it's fake, he looks great.)

Now, Papa Skars is a TOUGH one to pick, but I have to go with Dune. Idk if it's because of Stellan that his boys can play evil pricks so well, but the Baron is like next level shit. He is so talented. I went over half my life not even realizing he's been in so many movies I've watched. But in recent times, since the Skarsgards have been on my radar, Dune knocked it outtttt and Stellan was a huge part of that. Thank you Papa Skars, for helping create your beautiful sons and unleashing them upon the world.

This could have been a lot shorter but oh well. My mens deserve all the shout outs. Thanks for asking! ❤️

[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!

[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.

[eldritchsurveys]

1186.

Do you ever worry about your future? (i.e.: college, marriage, kids, etc) >> When I'm stressed about my future, that isn't the sort of thing I'm stressed about. I'm thinking about decades of soul-deep loneliness and skin hunger, decades of struggling with my various mental and emotional blocks over and over again, decades of trying to thrive in a region that doesn't suit me. Basically, I suffer from a typical post-traumatic lack of imagination -- I can't reliably imagine a me that isn't just like the me I am right now, in the situations I am in right now.

Does your family use coasters? Is anyone in your family excessively tidy? >> Well, I don't use coasters most of the time. I don't think "excessively tidy" describes me, either.

What’s your least favorite chore to do around the house? Do you have to do this often? >> They're all my least favourite, but the one I absolutely cannot deal with is cleaning the bathroom. I mean, I technically could deal with it. If I had to. But it would be pretty rough on me.

If you went to your mom/dad or whoever you live with and said “hey, I’ll clean the whole house if you give me 20 bucks” would they go for it? Would you raise the price? .

Are you usually late, early or right on time? >> Either almost uncomfortably early or right on time, depending on the bus schedule (my being stupid-early is usually because if I took the next bus I'd be late).

If you wrote a journal entry about your last date, what would it say? .

On a scale of 1 to 5 how organized are you? >> I don't know how to rate my organisational level on a number scale, but I think my need for and enjoyment of organisation is pretty significant.

Name a movie you can watch over and over again and not be bored with? .

Do you wear pajamas to places other than at your house? >> I do not.

Do you take showers in the morning or at night more? >> I only shower in the evening. What is the wallpaper on your cellphone? >> Lock screen is a fanart of Randall Flagg and home screen is a fanart of Orin the Red.

Do you still have your tonsils? >> I do.

What is the worst thing someone has ever done to you? .

Have you ever gone nude/streaked in public? >> I have not.

Do you snore? Steal the covers? Roll around in your sleep? >> I don't really do any of this. In comparison to most people I know, I sleep like a corpse.

Why aren’t you with the person you love? .

Could you go out in public looking like you do now? >> I could not. I'd freeze instantly, for starters.

Do you like the rain? >> I do, but not in abundance. What is your mom listed under in your phone? .

Do you like going to the dentist? >> Going to the dentist dysregulates me so bad I turn into a terrible patient without wanting to. I think I genuinely need a handler for medical procedures.

Are you afraid of speaking to large audiences? >> I am not. I wouldn't love it, it's not my scene, but I'm not afraid of it. Are you afraid to tell the truth sometimes? >> Sure.

What’s one quality about yourself that you feel sets you back but also helps you? >> This is one of those things that I know I have multiple answers to because I've thought about this exact concept before, but unfortunately I can't remember on command.

Was anyone who had been in your company today in a bad mood? >> No one has been in my company today.

The last time you felt sick what exactly was wrong? . What did you do today? >> I made tea, checked up on all my accounts, made sandwiches, watched a movie, played some ESO, rode the stationary bike for fifteen minutes, took a shower, and took this survey.

[justforbooks]

The Stand – the original version of it, something I'll talk about later – was published in 1978. I read it 16 years after that. I can remember the time and place: on holiday in Turkey with my family. I can remember that the copy I had was already falling apart, because it was enormous, and the binding wasn't made to be opened, I don't think. The glue melted as I read the thing; page by page, it fell apart. While I knew I loved King before that holiday, afterwards I'd have followed him to hell and back. It's because of The Stand that I've read all his work, and that I embarked on this series; it's because of The Stand that I'm a writer at all. And because of all this, I don't really know where to start writing about it.

Maybe with Captain Trips. Prior to 1978, King had published three novels under his name that focused on ordinary people ruined or damaged by extraordinary (and inexplicably paranormal) situations. The Stand looked at those ordinary people – the readers of his book – and said: let's damage you all. Rather than the threat being ghosts or vampires, it was a sickness, nicknamed, in the novel, Captain Trips. The sickness was a flu that killed 99.4% of the world's population, and it's terrifying, because we all get the flu. Even as you read the novel, you feel a chill coming over you. (Trust me: I reread this partly on my morning commute, sitting next to somebody with a cough that sounded like death. It's still scary.) Because it's plausible, it affects people in a lasting way. When swine flu broke out in 2009, I lost track of the number of tweets referring to it as Captain Trips. When we're scared we joke; and we joke because of the bubonic plague, because of Spanish flu, and because it feels so wholly reasonable to imagine a virus decimating the world. Worse still? Captain Trips was made in a lab, just like those biological weapons we're all slightly terrified of. The bad guy in The Stand was made by us, and it killed us. That's hubris for you.

I call it the bad guy, but Captain Trips isn't the bad guy. Not really. That honour falls to Randall Flagg. I've mentioned him before but here's where he makes his grand entrance. He's a man of many names: The Walking Dude, The Ageless Stranger, He Who Walks Behind The Rows, The Man In Black, Walter O'Dim, The Dark Man. In The Stand, one character calls him The Antagonist, vague and present and inexplicable. He's bigger than the novel, than the world that's collapsed and torn itself apart; and he only appears when it's done, walking from nowhere, only hazily able to remember who he was before (but that he killed policemen, fought for the KKK, and helped to kidnap Patty Hearst).

Where King's previous antagonists were small fry (or protagonists flipped on their heads), Randall Flagg is never less than pure evil. He has a counterpart, as all evils should: Mother Abigail, 108 years old, who communes with God, and who is the frail good to Flagg's evil. Both have the ability to inspire those around them, but Flagg has an advantage: evil is inherently stronger. It's easier. He's able to gather an army from the weak-minded, the stragglers, finding the darkness that's in us all and using it. He brings out everything awful in those susceptible to him: in his lackey Lloyd, and Trashcan Man, and The Kid, and Harold.

Harold. Poor Harold Emery Lauder, the weakest of the weak. A boy only a couple of years older than I was when I read the book for the first time, and who – like me, as I was discovering – wanted nothing more than to be a writer. And he knew about the same things that I did: being in love with girls who didn't know he existed; wanting to be somebody that he was hopelessly ill-prepared to be; and (the bane of all teenagers) feeling singular, alone. Harold was the crux for me; he presented me with the question that makes the novel so powerful and affecting to so many people. What would I do? If I was suddenly completely alone, if I was given the ability to do anything I wanted with no consequences, would I retain my morality? Or would I, like Harold, naturally skew towards evil because of my baser – albeit human – desires? Do we all have that potential inside us?

As the novel progresses and the survivors of the flu are forced to pick sides – drawn through their dreams to the darkness or the light, to Randall Flagg or Mother Abigail – Harold shows his true colours. In the novel's early stages he is a confused, angry, horny teenager; through Flagg's influence, he loses himself. He becomes a killer, a cold-blooded mess of rage when Flagg persuades him (using sexy schoolteacher Nadine, and the promise of Harold finally getting laid) to detonate a bomb and kill his friends. After succeeding and running away, he ends his life alone, his own hands on the gun, the only time in the novel he's actually offered anything resembling control. I remember thinking how terribly sad this was, because when the book starts he's just a kid. That's easy to forget. Stu Redman feels sad for him as well, and if I most associated with Harold at times, Stu was who I wanted to become.

Why? He's noble. He's quiet and moral and even passionate, and he manages to help inspire the gang of good guys to carry on, despite Randall Flagg's dark temptations. He's the one whom Mother Abigail entrusts to go to Flagg and fight back. He's an authority figure, respected and clever, and he's willing to die for the good of the world and his friends. He doesn't: he breaks his leg, almost as if he's spared, and he watches Las Vegas explode at the novel's close; the threat eliminated, the world ready to rebuild itself. He is able to be the father to Frannie's child.

That's not an accident. Nothing in The Stand is an accident. As much as it's a novel about the battle between good and evil, it's also a novel about fate. These people – the American contingent of the 0.6% of the world's population who survived Captain Trips – manage to meet up in Las Vegas, called from all around by dreams. Did they choose to find each other, or was it chosen for them? Mother Abigail's dreams come courtesy of God; she is his prophet, and she assembles her own biblical-type followers. Pregnant Franny, whose child can assert the human race's survival; the forgiving and ailing Glen; deaf-mute Nick; mentally challenged Tom Cullen, who will save Stu Redman; Larry Underwood, who starts the novel dreaming of Flagg, and is filled with darkness, but somehow finds the light. All the cast are put upon and challenged.

I read once that The Stand was essentially the Book of Job, with the survivors in Job's place: tested by good and evil both; pushed and challenged to see how much they could endure, as if their suffering were a game. There's a little more epic fantasy here than in the Bible, maybe, and it ends not with a war, but with an accident; with the chaos of Trashcan Man finding a weapon, and with Flagg's showing off going to far. But I can still see it. Good wins by default, because evil cannot. Those were the rules in the Old Testament, and they're the rules now.

I've read this book five times in adulthood, by my reckoning, and more when I was a teenager. I know some people read books over and over, but I don't; I'm a once-round-then-shelve-it reader, unless a book really stands out to me. This is my most reread book. I can't think of one that has affected me so much. It scared me and excited me; but more than that, it was the first time I noticed the textures of a novel. The Stand is dense and rich. Every character is full and alive, and they're all in the book with a purpose. They cover every shade of human morality, and that astonished me: the deftness of King's writing in making no two feel alike, and making their deaths – because a lot of the cast die, heroes and villains both, something that almost feels inevitable from the outset – mean something. Everything in the book means something, and nothing is accidental. I can still read it and see the narrative threads, set up to be exploited, revealed or knocked down: and the hints in the subtle stylistic touches (Mother Abigail's side drawn into longer, more florid descriptions of their actions; Flagg's side blunter, more bullish, more exposed).

I don't think I can talk objectively, really.

The Stand is a masterpiece, and I don't use that word lightly. King says in the novel's introduction that he "wanted to write a fantasy epic like The Lord of the Rings, only with an American setting", and that's absolutely what he did.

Important to note, this: there are two versions of The Stand. One was published in 1978, and it's about 800 pages long, and it's set in the 1980s. Another was published in 1991, and it's about 1,200 pages long, and it's set in the 90s. The books are the same story, the same characters; content cut from the early version was put back and the book slightly remastered, as it were, for King's later, more-receptive-to-giant-novels audience. Whichever one you read it's the same book, but for the finality of a single scene at the end of the remaster: where Randall Flagg has survived the novel's endgame, reborn somewhere else entirely, new memories and a new identity, and with a new group of people to try and lead.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

[impuretale]

Alright - Headcanon Asks yeah?

All of them! Every last one for a character in the Stand. Which character for each headcanon up to you.

Okay [cracks knuckles] I can try that! I may wind up going back to a few more than others but it just tells you which ones I do the most thinking on. Also by and large this is specific to the 2020 miniseries but will figure in wider canon sometimes.

SO

Headcanon meme ask list is here.

☾ - Larry Underwood's dreams and visions, even those alluding to Mother Abagail, are as disturbing as they are at the start of the series because he's still taking coke. Hence why his vision of her calling him to come and see her is intermixed with that of his dying mother.

★ - Joe/Leo Rockway still has dreams about both Larry and Mommy Nadine as he grows up.

☆ - Kojak the dog fathers puppies and lives a good, long dog life.

☠ - Lloyd Henreid's gold tooth that appears after arriving in Vegas, is not purely cosmetic. One of the first people who wound up on the telephone poles didn't understand the pecking order yet and thought he was an easy target to take a swing at, and while Lloyd scrapped back, Flagg finished the matter by establishing that he picks his soldiers and they are off limits.

✿ - Flagg is very accustomed to his partners passing out before the end and tends to hit such a devastatingly huge dip in adrenaline afterward that he could probably benefit from aftercare, which never happens because his partners are out. When your mind is open to the eldritch horrors and arriving leaves everything exposed and unguarded, you don't experience post-nut clarity so much as post-nut disparity. This is not a big enough deterrent to warn him off from the practice itself, but then it is very canon that he finds this kind of exposure necessary, even if unpleasant. Wizards, amirite?

■ - Glen Bateman tends to live in clutter. Where he puts something down is just where it lives which means his home dwelling can contain a lot of organized piles of stuff -- it looks like a mess and on occasion he will be very "shit I need to clean I'm out of surfaces" but he knows where everything is.

♡ - Lloyd Henreid is in love with Randall Flagg and doesn't really expect anything from it -- he isn't afraid of him as Julie thinks he is. What he's afraid of is the notion that Flagg only tolerates him. This leads to him trying too hard to be accommodating, on occasion.

♥ - Fran ignores or rebuffs Harold's romantic advances because even if her feelings go beyond "kid I used to babysit that I thought was annoying when I was a teenager" it is not romantic in origin -- she also projected a lot of her little brother onto him, who died when he was little. So him making it after Trips was bittersweetly important because he has always been the younger sibling that made it. Even if it is something she distanced herself from because childhood trauma is hard to deal with as a kid and a teenager, and her friendship with his sister made it a quietly kept secret. She recognizes that's unfair and not something he asked for, but she didn't ask to be the object of his unrequited affections either.

☮ - On the way to Boulder, Glen went fishing a few times with Stu, which seemed to relax him. They would usually catch things and Glen would joke, if they did not, that his loud speechifying scared the fish away.

♦ - Stu cannot play any instruments and his singing is for the shower and the radio only.

☯ - Harold loves PayDays (canon) but absolutely hates fruity candies. After trick or treating he and his sister would barter for their favorites and his willingness to let go of higher-value candy like chewing gum for chocolate meant it was a largely pleasant experience where neither sibling had much reason to steal from each other's stashes.

▼ - Fran hates swimming and can only do it because her parents made her take lessons when she was a kid.

∇ - Assuming my New Game+ theory re: the 2020 miniseries and Flagg holds water, Mother Abagail is also just as aware that events have transpired before and is less ruffled by Flagg because she's literally had these conversations with him multiple times.

♒ - Flagg has a sweet tooth (book/TDT canon) -- with a fully stocked kitchen and permission to fuck around and find out, Lloyd discovered this when he made deep fried oreos and then almost didn't get to have any.

☼ - Lloyd Henreid's XIX tattoo is an easter egg but he got it because it was his first tattoo, on his 19th birthday, and he couldn't think of anything else cool to get.

ൠ - Randall Flagg has no pop culture memories from after 1994. His car has a tape deck because it doesn't occur to him that cars wouldn't have one. He keys into new music pretty quick but all his favorites and the ones that get stuck in his head are from well before that and come from a variety of places.

[h3nr31ds]

randall flagg headcanons

he has retractable claws

and also he can purr. it often sounds more like a growl, though

he cannot stop smiling. there might be contradicting things about this headcanon in the book(s) he appears in but it’s real to me

he can change his gender at will with his shape shifting abilities, as well as his hair and eye color.

he’s genderfluid and pansexual

his teeth are slightly wolflike. what sharp teeth you have mister flagg!

he would absolutely wear those denim heels (if you know what i’m talking about then you know it’s true)

these are all i can think of currently but if you guys have any please share in reblogs or comments

[thelivingautomaton]

Kristina reads King, aka: "holy shit, you're actually doing it?"

okay I felt like this uh, "project" of mine probably deserved at least an introductory post before just jumping straight in to it, SO: hello tumblr followers. my name is Kristina, and whether or not you're a long-time listener, you probably are already aware that I fucking love Stephen King books.

which isn't to say I think they're enjoyable for everyone equally, or that they don't have problems. (like...SO many problems.) but like, I got into Stephen King when I was about twelve (with The Dark Tower, which is kind of like teaching someone to swim by throwing them in the deep end of the pool first go. I thought it was awesome) and something about his books just makes them really special to me and close to my heart, which is why I keep defending this old man who probably has more money than God and therefore doesn't need a weirdo on the Internet saying why his books are Good, Actually (Even If They're Not "Good")

anyway, a combination of "seeing recurring posts on tumblr ragging on King's writing" plus "coping with my impending PhD dissertation defense via speculative fiction escapism" (long story) has led me to finally commit to my long-running goal of reading every single Stephen King book, in publication order. despite enjoying his bibliography I actually have a lot of big gaps in my Stephen King experience, especially of his "classic" works, so I'm excited to read them and see his style evolve as I progress!

I'll probably make a post about each book as I read it, but below the cut is a list of the King books I've already read (almost all of which I'll likely reread for this) and my brief recollections/thoughts about them

The Stand -- I've read it at least twice and tell basically everyone I know to read it. unironically love this book to pieces. also reading it when I was 13 is kind of what made me get into virology in the first place

The Dark Tower series -- also read it twice. deeply important books to me, despite (or because of) their many flaws. will be super interesting having the books interspersed among King's other work (see: the big gaps between books 3/4 and 4/5), although hopefully that also means I'll get a lot more of the connected universe references this time around, LMFAO

The Shining -- read this in high school I think? I remember enjoying it a lot, even though I'd seen the Kubrick film first and liked that way more. definitely going to watch the miniseries after rereading it this time

The Talisman -- I actually just finished reading this for the first time so it's probably the only book I'll skip for this project. it's fucking incredible and made me cry like a bitch, highly recommend it if you like when Stephen King gets into fantasy and/or weird Americana road trip stuff

Eyes of the Dragon -- also read this in high school sometime after the Dark Tower, thought it slapped

The Dark Half -- one of King's most criminally underrated books, I am so serious. feel like I read most or all of this one of the times my parents would drop me off at Barnes and Noble for 6 hours to hang out and read

From a Buick 8 -- I feel like I also read this in high school? thought it was a little underwhelming

Lisey's Story -- the other criminally underrated Stephen King book, oh my GOD I just know this one is going to wreck me on rereading. also the miniseries that Apple TV put out with Julianne Moore was really really good

11/22/63 -- kind of drags in parts but most of it is really good

Revival -- definitely remember reading this when it came out, probably one of the few King books that drags in the middle but then fucking nails the ending. also one of the few times King actually genuinely scared me with his writing LOL

Gwendy's Button Box -- I think I also read this one in a bookstore binge-read since it's short and also has Randall Flagg in it. I liked it, I think?

The Institute -- read this in undergrad and thought it was great

Fairy Tale -- I got like halfway through this while in grad school before stalling out and getting distracted, but it really was quite good from what I remember

Night Shift, and various other short stories -- I would flip through Stephen King's short story collections in my high school library when I was bored and needed to kill twenty minutes LOL. I think my two favorite short stories of his are "The Raft" and "Survivor Type", and my hot take is that I thought "The Jaunt" was just alright

so: no Carrie, Cujo, Pet Sematery, IT, etc etc etc...which means I have a hell of a ride ahead of me

[stingslikeabee]

[ TRACE ]  for sender to gently trace patterns along receiver’s skin as they relax after sex. — [ @withthedoubleg, i offer you a Wholesome Moment ]

emotional intimacy & pillow talk prompts . accepting . @withthedoubleg

For most of Melissa's adult life, sex had been frustrating at best; perhaps because of the crowd she ended mixing up with and the type of men that she seemed to favor (never someone who looked like they could do some good for her; it was as if her life hadn't been shitty enough and she remained a magnet for trouble). Or maybe, thanks to all these deep-seated and unresolved issues, the woman was determined to punish herself at some unconscious level.

That meant that the brunette had grown used to expect nothing - to finish everything herself, to invest in good toys and to become her own best friend because her partners were lousy, lazy and unreliable. But then... Randall Flagg came along and things changed.

First, the dreams - to the point where Melissa woke up panting, sweaty and with her heart racing as if the man had been in bed with her (and might as well have, given how wet the barmaid would be and how tortured she felt). Then, the actual flirting stage (if one could call it that), where she had been ignorant of what Randall wished and she just... Lingered. Fleeting touches, bumping limbs, brushing fingers whenever there was an opening.

And then - at long last, they had fucked and it had been an earth-shattering experience. The barmaid was not one for poetry or romanticizing that type of thing - but it was almost as if he was a magician (well, maybe he was) and everything was just so intense, so pleasurable, so delightfully toe-curling that Melissa thought she would have died at some point.

(And the woman knew she would have perished with a smile.)

But whatever deities with a funny sense of humor existed had decided to preserve the barmaid's life - enough for her to keep coming back to Randall, like a drug addict who couldn't do anything before seeing their dealer. It was more than just physical release - the woman was really head over heels for a man that was nothing short of a collection of red flags, but any warning or caution would fall on deaf ears now.

For better or worse; she was irrevocably his and the addiction problem was only getting worse. Melissa didn't want to imagine what would happen if he left her; if he never came back - she wouldn't know what to do and frankly, thinking about it did no good. Instead, she focused on the now, on the good things, on the way his hand felt as it travelled over her back while they caught their breath.

At least now they usually found better places for hooking up - not that urgency hadn't driven them to more questionable choices, but on that night, the only angry person was likely Melissa's neighbor (who, really, wasn't home thanks to a small trick of the traveler in bed with her, dispatched to another dimension for threatening the barmaid over some noise). After all these weeks, the brunette now knew why an orgasm with him was so powerful - for both of them, actually.

The stone around her neck, the mental connection they shared - it wasn't just a sensor for imminent danger and for him to watch her growing needy when he was away, but also during sex. Randall could feed from her own feelings and intensity, and it made the experience something almost otherworldly - at least for her.

It took the brunette some time to realize that the man was running his digit over the same patch of skin - something in the middle of her back, along her spine. Suddenly, it hit her - there was a faint scar covering that area, one that she had forgotten about after so many years, but sounded like a funny story now.

"It was an accident," the woman said, voice muffled by the folded arms but then turning around so she could look at him - the man was sitting up, lazily resting against the bed frame but did raise an eyebrow at her as if he invited her to go on with the explanation - his hand never stopped. "I was a kid and one of our dinner table chairs was fucked up - my dad had pulled it aside so no one would sit on it, but I guess he was drunk enough to put it back one night," the barmaid shrugged, clearly indicating that the alcohol-induced stupor of her parent had been normal.

"I didn't know any better and I sat down, but the seat cushion just fell through and I followed suit; I didn't have time to react, I just got stuck in the friggin' frame. It would have been funny if there wasn't a nail on my back. I didn't bleed a lot, but the skin never quite healed. No idea why," she sighed next, flipped around and laid on her back instead - not because Melissa was ashamed of the markings, but rather to look at him and the blue eyes that stared back at her with something hard to describe. Amusement? Interest? Curiosity?

"Are any of yours from childhood stupidity?" the barmaid queried, peering up at his chest where some were visible (and there were more on his back); but somehow, he doubted his were from a dog bite or a random street fight.

It didn't stop Melissa from asking, though. Randall had been right about her, after all - instead of running away, she was keen on studying the darkness he embodied and carried within.

[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??

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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...?"

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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!"

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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?”

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

[anythingstephenking]

Goodbye Gwendy

You know what I thought I’d never read? A Stephen King book that takes place on the International Space Station. But here we are, with our final installment of the Gwendy trilogy, throwing that damn box into outer space. Does that sound silly? Yes. Is it silly? Not really.

I did read Gwendy’s Magic Feather before this, published solely by Chizmar in 2019. Gwendy’s now married and working as a senator from Maine, and also a popular published author. Ding ding ding! 

We pick up in Final Task - it’s 2026, Gwendy is in her 60s and the box is back. Dun dun dun. She also has early onset Alzheimer’s, its very sad, and Richard Farris is back with the box. See Gwendy’s the only one that’s ever taken good care of the box. Sure she caused Jonestown, but the person before her caused COVID by pressing the Asia button, so not as bad by comparison. Farris is sick and needs Gwendy to get rid of the box by launching it into outer space. Cool.

Somehow it’s written believably that Gwendy could secure herself a spot on a flight out to the ISS, and gets to space somehow as her brain disintegrates in her skull. 

If Farris is from The Tower universe, some version of The Man in Black and/or Randall Flagg, what does it mean that he’s dying? If pressing the black button destroys the Tower, why is this version of Flagg working so hard to protect it?

Maybe I’m just too dumb to connect all the dots, but The Dark Tower was all over this (there’s Low Men, TET Corp etc). WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

Anywho, a decent and emotional end to Gwendy’s great quest to protect the world from grave danger. If only she had gotten the box back before the dumbass pressed the COVID button.

7/10

First Line: It’s a beautiful April day in Playalinda, Florida, not far from Cape Canaveral. 

Last Line: Sitting there, staring up at the infinite darkness, he thinks they are easy words to believe. 

Adaptations: MIKE FLANNIGAN IS MAKING THE DARK TOWER UNIVERSE CONTENT! WE ARE NOT WORTHY.

Alright, not Gwendy but adjacent and I just read about this last week and literally couldn’t be more excited. Veruca Salt voice: I WANT IT NOW.

[eldritchsurveys]

1181.

How many pieces of gum have you chewed today? >> Two, maybe? I chew gum a lot, it's a major stim for me.

Any big events coming up? >> Not until April.

Do you know anyone who is paralyzed? >> I don't.

What did you do last night? >> Played some ESO, scrolled tumblr a bit, went to bed around 22:30 or so. By doing that, what time did you go to bed? >> ^

And what time did you wake up this morning? >> The final time? Around 08:00, 08:30.

Have you been debating anything recently? >> I don't think so.

Who was the last person to text you? .

Are there icicles on the sides of your house? >> There are not, the weather has been too warm for that. Do you get intimidated easily? >> I don't think so. I find it a bit absurd to be intimidated by a person, but I do sometimes feel the instinct to fawn in situations where someone has a certain level of power over me.

Does anything on your body hurt currently? >> No.

Are you often trying to escape the inevitable? >> I don't even know how I would do that.

What were the first words you said today? >> I haven't said any words to anyone today, outside of the customary Inworld communications.

Which lyric is your favorite from the song you are listening to? .

Does it hold any memories? .

Why did you last cry? >> I was sad and stressed and dysregulated to fuck.

Did someone see you crying? >> Certainly not.

Do you crack your knuckles? >> Sometimes. I try not to get too habituated to it.

Is it really going to give you arthritis? >> I don't think so, but I still don't want to get too habituated to it.

Are you excited for the new year? .

List three things you are excited for in the upcoming year? .

What is the wallpaper on your cellphone? >> I just changed it (finally) so now it's Randall Flagg fanart for the lock screen and Orin the Red fanart for the home screen.

Where is your best friend right now? .

Can you count to 100 in any other language? >> I cannot.

Do you headbang often? >> Fairly often, since I listen to metal a lot.

Magenta or orchid? >> Orchid. Are you a fan of Rob Zombie? >> Casually. I love a couple of his movies and I think his music's pretty tight even if I don't listen to it regularly.

Last two songs you listened to? >> Seven by Sunny Day Real Estate (a song I do like, particularly the last half, but I decided to take it off Liked Songs for now) and Insignificant by Nevermore.

Are there any shoes you are really wanting? >> There are not. I just want my feet to not hurt, and the majority of shoes seem tailor-made to do the opposite of that. I'm sick of shoes. I wish I didn't have to deal with them at all.

Describe what you are wearing? >> Blue Stitch-patterned lounge pants, black undershirt, black Duff's Brooklyn hoodie.

Look out the window - what do you see? >> Tree branches, the sky, and the top of the garage.

Television or computer? >> My computer is my television. Germany or France? .

Hawthorne Heights or She Wants Revenge? >> I don't listen to either, but She Wants Revenge is the only one whose music actually comes to mind (I don't know if I've ever heard a HH song).

Is your skin sensitive? >> Not especially.

Are you sensitive in general? >> Oh, I absolutely can be.

Who last left you a note? .

Have you ever made a gingerbread house? >> I think I've participated in the assemblage of one, but not very enthusiastically, lol. I'm not much into that sort of thing.

Who did you last get in a fight with? .

Are things resolved between the two of you now? .

Did you have any weird dreams last night? >> Oh my god, did I. It was awful. My subconscious is quite dedicated to pouring every ounce of creative energy we have into crafting elaborate anxiety constructs for us to get lost in. And with the boundless capacity of dream logic, the sky's the limit!

Tell me one thing you remember from it? >> A longtime (I mean 10+ years long) tumblr mutual softblocked me because I just wasn't a warm enough person for them and they got tired of it.

Lets have some lyrics to end this, yeah? >> Let's not (I just have Seven stuck in my head because of the earlier question about songs and I don't really know the lyrics to that one).

[ladyoriza]

yes hi this is exactly the plot of my oc's story!

So, from the get-go Joseph thinks Hannah's attractive, he finds it very interesting that she was involved at all as she's a psychologist, not a cop or a fed. She was brought in in case things needed to be de-escalated, but we all know how that went. She did do her best though, coming right in with "Well, don't you trust your god? How do you know this isn't a test for all of you? Let us take Joseph peacefully, unless you're having doubts". And ohhh if that's not the EXACT type of crowd control Joseph himself would use, he wouldn't know what would be.

And that continues throughout Holland Valley and the Henbane- Hannah can sway people away from Joseph just as easily as he swayed them to join him, and he becomes convinced that it means they're meant to be together. They end up fooling around in the Bliss before Hannah manages to convince Faith to leave. Which, of course, throws a bit of a wrench into Joseph's idea but he gets past it.

And then Hannah gets to Jacob, and it all goes sideways. I have my Saints Row oc handling all the combat, but it's Hannah that ends up at the Vet Center, which kicks off the bloodiest 48 hours in the history of Hope County, ending only when Jacob is too maimed to do much of anything at all. Hannah was tucked away in the Wolves Den while it was happening as, after the second trial, she's too injured to leave.

This does not stop Hannah from dragging herself to Joseph's island to try and end things herself before it gets even messier. The deal is that Hannah will properly join Eden's Gate if Joseph stops the Reaping and returns the stolen goods. Joseph, still convinced they're meant to be together, agrees. Three weeks later, as Hannah needs that time to heal from her injuries, she is properly baptized and they are wed.

Ultimately it's less about Hannah and Joseph being together as it is that the children they have need to exist, because those two end up getting rid of The Voice permanently (yeah, forgot to mention, the Voice isn't god, it's good ol Randall Flagg of the Stephen King multiverse just fucking around).

There was an ask that you answered in regards to a “arranged marriage for truce” scenario. And I do agree, canonically, Joseph likely would never do such a thing to the Deputy on his own accord.

…but would he do it if the Voice told him to do so? Joseph believes it to be God, and we already know in the FC5 canon that, no matter how horrible the task is asked of him (sacrificing his daughter, starting a war, etc) he would do it. In his mind, going against the Voice would be going against the Will of God, and we all know he trusts/has faith in the Voice’s plan. What do you think?

I agree with you: Joseph’s faith in the Voice is absolute (at least in Far Cry 5), and as he says it himself, he would do anything It asks, no matter what it is. In my opinion, if he had heard what he earnestly believes is God’s voice reveal that he or one of his siblings had to marry the Deputy, Joseph would have tried his best to make it happen. He would have told his Family, and although I’m not sure it would work, he would attempt to convince the Deputy. To him, if it’s God’s plan, it must come to pass.