Harlot O'Scara's Tumble-Stuff

I'm probably old enough to be your mother, but I'll never get old. I refuse. I take fan fic requests for Sherlock BBC, Being Human, Batman, and many other fandoms.
I sometimes post in character from my selected fandoms, and from my OC, Kathryn Kuipers, aka "Kit."

January 11, 2014 8:52 pm

askerquestioner

thecutehamilton: It was the early morning hours of November 24th, 1801. Philip had been fading all night, and more rapidly than ever in the past few hours. He lay in bed, entirely too still, struggling to force air in and out of his lungs. It took him a long time to open his eyes and focus his gaze on his parents, who had been sitting at his bedside all night. Looking right at his father, he rasped out weakly, "D-don't...let me...die..."

yaboylexihamilton:

thecutehamilton:

yaboylexihamilton:

Alexander dug his nails into his hand - he didn’t want his son to see him crying over this. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to help Philip - it was too late, there was nothing that could be done. The wound was mortal, anyway - it was a miracle that Philip had survived this long. “I- I won’t.” He spoke quickly, he could hear his voice breaking.

 

Philip’s breathing was shallow and barely happening at this point, and, fading in and out of consciousness, he barely heard his father’s words.

Nine breaths left.

But he loved the sound of his voice.  Mother said something as well, but, he couldn’t make out any words.

Eight.

He shook his head slightly, with effort.

Seven.

"No…" That word had been even more difficult to form.  He wasn’t even sure if he was responding to his father or trying to argue with the inevitable.

Six.

Hamiltons were good at arguing.  Like father, like son.  Oh, Philip, you could have been great.

Five.

This is how it feels to die, isn’t it?  It really hurts.  And not just because of the obvious bullet hole.

Four.

I’m sorry, Mother and Dad.

Three.

Hurts too much to think.

Two.

Please, no.

One.

"Philip?"

He pulled on Philip’s forearm, and there was no response. There was no pulse, and the breathing that had been so painfully audible just seconds ago was gone. “Philip, answer me!” He shouted, even though he knew why Philip wasn’t responding. He wanted to call out his son’s name again, just in case he could bring him back, and he did - but it came out completely incoherent, and he fell, sobbing. Alexander wished someone would shoot him.

This is so unbelievably effing good I can’t even begin to describe it. To think that Alexander thought this only to later die in a duel from a gunshot wound…

Kudos to you both. This is incredible.

8:39 pm

morgrana:

*stranger mentions fandom in public*

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I mention them all the time, just in case someone else is a fan of my fandoms. Alas, no one knows what the hell I’m talking about, or they’re all really good at not eavesdropping.

(via nodaybuttodaytodefygravity)

January 10, 2014 5:50 pm
youlowertheiqofthewholestreet:

If this doesn’t make me go to the gym, nothing will

youlowertheiqofthewholestreet:

If this doesn’t make me go to the gym, nothing will

(via yesmisscreepypasta)

5:44 pm
221b-benedict-cumberbatch:

high-functioning-introvert:

candi-trap:

My dash did a thing.

a sign from God

omg, this is awesome

Funny dash is funny. I love it.

221b-benedict-cumberbatch:

high-functioning-introvert:

candi-trap:

My dash did a thing.

a sign from God

omg, this is awesome

Funny dash is funny. I love it.

(via cas--tiel)

4:21 pm January 8, 2014 8:34 pm January 6, 2014 12:02 pm January 5, 2014 6:02 pm 12:02 pm

akiko20:

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Smiling

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Grin

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Crying (Not acceptable)

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You smiling perfect bastard, stop ruining my mind

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This is art.

January 4, 2014 6:01 pm