10 Works in Mabel (Podcast)
Listing Works
-
Tags
Summary
When was the last time anyone wore a jacket like that?
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 777
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 7
- Hits:
- 19
-
Yet by just_your_biology
Fandoms: Wolf 359 (Radio), Mabel (Podcast), Apothecary - Fandom
17 Apr 2018
Tags
Summary
A collection of poetry written late at night
-
Tags
Summary
Hera considers a dilemma in early season three. She knows what the trap looks like, but that doesn't be stop her from falling into it.
-
Tags
Summary
We can only ever be what we are.
-
Tags
Summary
It’s dark. Is this what a star feels like? When it’s centre devours it, when its core inverts and turns into a clump of mass so dense it pulls everything including light towards itself?
-
Tags
Summary
Anna Limon, the girl with the mouth of God, uses that mouth to bring me pleasure so bright, it blinds me. It blinds me.
-
Tags
Summary
Что внутри у Анны Лимоун?
-
Tags
Summary
“No. Just--Can we not?” They were both coated with mud. With blood. The boy’s, their own, the garden’s and Anna was so tired. She couldn’t imagine Mabel being any less worn. “The King is dead. We’re back. Can we just-- one night. One night and then tomorrow we can deal with the boy and whoever sent him and everything else just..”
“You just want to have a conversation,” and there was an edge, a sarcasm in Mabel’s voice as if she couldn’t believe that they were doing this again. “Not us-as-archetypes, not you skeletal and me--”
“I want to make you dinner. You burning. And me skeletal,” Anna said. “I’m not naive, Mabel.”
Or: In which peace is hardwon and promises are kept.
-
Tags
Summary
Journal entries from the perspective of a detective investigating the disappearance of Anna Limon
//
"All it takes is one nosy neighbour making a facebook post and suddenly every conspiracy theorist is knocking on the front door offering their hypothesis."
-
Tags
Summary
You’re sleeping, Anna, curled up by my thigh, all smooth curves and warm ochre. Even here, even under the Hill, your body remembers to do it, remembers dawn and dusk, the linear and regular progression of time as the sun chased the moon through the sky. You’re sleeping. Or maybe it’s your body remembering to die, the poison in your veins.
(I don’t know. I’m not the nurse, not the home care health specialist. Tell me Anna; what does atropine poisoning look like?)