#mandela catalogue fanfic

[mustangs-flames]

Hail, True Body (TMC AU) - masterpost

ABOUT THE FUTURE OF THIS AU

Artwork by @catsharkie!

Just so it's all in one place on here and I can add to this post as new parts come out, here is a masterpost for my Mandela Catalogue AU called 'Hail, True Body'.

"Mark doesn't die in September 1992 and his friend Cesar Torres has been acting strange ever since his mother died. Things begin to unravel from there."

A Mandela Catalogue canon divergence AU where an alternate tries a little too hard to be human. It goes about as well as you'd expect.

This AU is pretty big and will cover the story of many of the TMC characters, but Mark and the alternate formerly known as Cesar Torres are one of the big focal points of the AU as a whole.

Off hiatus!

Next chapter update is coming in February!

Please be aware of each fic's tags before you read!

Overview/rundown of the whole AU (a quick guide)

Part 1: 'Its Name Was Cesar Torres' (7 chapters, complete)

Part 2: '10:15, Saturday Night' (oneshot, complete)

Part 3: 'Old Rugged Cross' (5 chapters, complete)

Part 4: 'What's In A Name?' (oneshot, complete)

Part 5: 'The Good Samaritan' (ONGOING!)

Part 6: 'Eye For An Eye' (upcoming, starts after Part 5 finishes)

Imagery (all teasers so far!)

Key for alternate 'true voices'

How alternates work in the Hail, True Body AU

The BPS gang in the Hail, True Body AU

Character Heights (for artists!)

Character Ages (during Its Name Was Cesar Torres)

Character Birthdays (for characters in the current 1992 part of the AU)

Character Sexualities/Identities

Character Families & Members (for all main characters)

Death in the Hail, True Body AU

Gabriel in the Hail, True Body AU

All Character Design References

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy it!

-

UPDATED BOUNDARIES POST

Extras!

Playlists canon to the AU:

Mark's 1992 The Cure Mixtape playlist

Jonah's playlist for car rides and the skate park

Cesar's (human) 1992 Queen Mixtape playlist

Thatcher Davis' Mixtape playlist (1960s-1999)

#mandela catalogue #the mandela catalogue #tmc #mandela catalogue au #mandela catalogue fanfic #hail true body au #my work

[lovelybunn]

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋'𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 .ㅤㅤ- feat. alt! gabriel .

warning(s): none.

author's note: idc that he's actually satan, he's my pretty boy and that's all that matters.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ∬ ﹒ 🕯🌫 . ꙳ 🎻 ﹒ ༒ㅤ࿐

"𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐄 you doing?" he glared at you inquisitively. you just smiled and continued running your fingers through his soft, silky blonde curls. gabriel was still getting used to the idea of human "kinship", or as you like to call it, "friendly bonding". no matter how many times he's threatened you, knowing that he didn't like the idea of someone physically touching him, you always persisted. this time was no different.

today you seemed very intrigued over his hair, which was quite puzzling, considering it wasn't the first time you've seen it in your whole life. you wouldn't stop staring at it; you refused to keep your hands off it. you were slowly getting on his last nerve.

you took a small section of gabriel's thick locks and started parting it into into three pieces. he raised his left brow. "what is the meaning of this? how are we 'bonding' from this experience?" you softly shushed him, that section of hair now in a delicate braid. you gently brushed your fingers down his scalp till you reached the exact parallel side of his head. a slight shiver ran down gabriel's spine, but he chose to ignore the feeling. you then took the same amount of hair that you used on the other side and proceeded to braid it in an identical fashion as the previous.

once you finished the other part, you pulled out a golden ribbon from your pocket and tied the sections together lightly combing the ends to blend with the rest of his hair. you took a step back and sighed, admiring your work. "all done, you can stop bickering now." you teased, handing gabriel a small mirror for him to finally see what you did to him. the fallen angel was hesitant at first, but he soon snatched the mirror out of your hands. he stared at himself for quite a while, with an expressionless look while he combed through his own locks.

gabriel turned a bit to face you, a radiant grin on his face. "maybe i underestimated you. you're more interesting than you perceive." you smiled in return, "i'm guessing that means you like it." he glanced back at the mirror before making eye contact with you again. "yes. it makes me feel the most beautiful i've ever been."

#mandela catalogue #mandela catalogue fanfic #mandela catalogue x reader #alt gabriel #mandela catalogue gabriel #sus gabriel #gabriel x reader #imagines #drabble #drabbles #my pretty boy

[stillarat]

Beloved.

Alt Gabriel x GN!Angel!reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: gabriel is gabriel, some threats

A/N: this was supposed to be for a request but i read it wrong so yeah, more gabriel coming soon except i read it r i g h t next time

You watched down on the ward assigned to you, a monotonous assignment though one you carried out with great pride. One bestowed to you in honesty and holiness, you watched over them, as the winds carried to you a spine chilling presence–chilling and impure. There he inched closer. Gabriel, but not the one you had wept for; and his intentions were clear to you in that moment. Your chest tightened, they were your one responsibility; you refused to disappoint. 

 In a heartbeat you took hold of his hand before you may have had a second thought. That is when you saw his face–he towered above even you, casting shadows across your stainless white garments. Every bit of him was long, and his skin was stained a dull but spotless, and blonde locs cascaded down his shoulders. He stared you down, blank faced before his grin curled to the apples of his cheeks.

“Who might you be?”

Whether frozen or stern, the point remained you utter not a word to the man–beast.

“Have you come to rebuke me?” He awaited a response that never came.

“If so I am honored.”

He pulled his arm free from you, circling you like a lion to a lamb. Pulling your spear to your side you tilted it toward his chin, as he walked back round to face you, playing no mind to his former engagement. Grin softening to mild amusement.

He held it just behind your blade, pulling you closer by it even as the smell of his singed flesh rose from his palm, and by it confirming your prior convictions. You rebuffed him swiftly, pressing the head of your weapon to his throat.

“A charming thing you are.” He spoke, lifting his hands to his sides and relenting to your attempts to subdue him.

“Not a word you infernal sycophant.”

“If you insist–myne lovely.” He sighed into his speech, your skin pulled tight over your knuckles–holding your weapon as a lifeline while you pushed your blade further still, knot in your throat pulled taut.

“You are dedicated, I will not deny you this.” Your voice as you spoke–hushed and militant.  He attempted to side step you, leading you both into a voracious stanced spiral.

“Your Lord must be proud, what a brave little thing you are.” He cooed, voice crackling in a cruel chuckle. “Very well, I shall abide by thy insistence as of now–We will meet again yonder little bird.”

With a swell of his wings he vanished in a flourish, leaving your heart spiraling under your ribs.

It stuck with you, in your mind always–he seemed to loom even if you were unable to see. He was a force ignorable as much as you wanted to; he made sure of that. He stares dominated your senses, even in the peaceful hours of the morning light, while the brooks babbled and the robins sang to their lovers; still in the silent crevices of the night as fear overtook the mind of you and your ward both. The thumming drum of your heartbeat rose to your head. 

And then he managed to catch your attention from the corner of your eye. You snapped around as the world seemed to spin on his own axis in a smooth lag.

“Quick as a whip are we?”

“Why are you still here?” You pressed, hands balled into your fists, pearlescent robes trapped between shaking fingers.

“You my dearest, why else?” 

“What else must I say? You’ve entranced me lovely.” He circled you, pulling your arms from their place at your sides. Kissing downward from your wrist and up to your cheeks, holding you still as you pulled against the reign of his arms. You snatched back your hands, regaining your sense grimacing at the beastly thing standing before you.

“You are an affront to all which is holy. You disgrace the heavens you claim as your own.”

“You’ve done it once more–that fire in your eyes, I want nothing more.” His voice let out in a cracked purr, slowly marching up to you as if you had not denied him mere moments ago.

“You know what I believe you to be, do not make me repeat again.”

“I am assured you will come to your senses in due time.”

You scoffed–laughed in his face, his grin dropped on a dime. His mouth muscled into an unamused grimace.

“Tell me, do you believe this to be entertaining? The things of the sort your beloved brother in the lord had taught you in all these years?”

“Keep his name off of your tongue!”

“Beloved, I have spoken nothing of the sort.” He took a seat on the roof of the building where you had both perched among the cool night air swaying past you.

“Whyfor must you make this so difficult for us?”

He turned back to you, his eyes pierced through your shallow veneer of confidence; your voice faltered when you tried to speak. You swallowed back your pitiful tears.

“Why?” Was the only thing that came out in turn, lowering your head towards your feet-quivering as you felt yourself nails digging in through the skin of your arms.

“Hm? “Why?”, why what dear, you must use your words. “What’s the point of this?”, “Why are you here?”. Come now dear, can you manage this, surely?”  His head tilted, hair rolling over his shoulder, a smile softing pulling back across his features.

“You’re taunting me.” Hands clenched, voice flat. 

“You malignant daemon!” You continued on. “You’re taunting me, you goddamned wretch!” You hollered.

You heard him chuckle, hiding his face from you before you saw him stand up, his back towards you.

“There is hardly use taunting you dear, but you have brought it upon yourself. You must concede–the fire on your tongue…” –He trails off devolving into curling and swaying hand gestures as the words find their way from the back of his throat.-- “Your irascible temper, it holds such myopic levity, and yet I am persuaded and enamored by it all that same.” 

“Or do you disagree darling?” You could taste rolling off his tongue, as he peered at you from over his shoulder, adorned with those same glistening locs catching the light of the setting sun.

Your face scrunched in detest, pulling your face away from his testing gaze with a nauseous tension pulling at the back of your throat. He cautiously walked towards you, head held high, and prepared for any objections you might have to his obnoxious proximity all things considered. His hand gilded atop your shoulder as he stepped behind you. You quickly snapped your head around to face him, but he corrected you gently–placing a hand against your cheek, moving it to face the subtle sunrise peeking overtop the buildings and hills, while his form remained in the corners of your vision.

“Are my advances not welcome? My arms, not kind? Are you not satisfied with my undivided devotion, ladybird?” His voice was saccharine, but the threats in his tone were not shielded from your ears, you were not a fool in his embrace. One hand of his came to grasp under your jaw, bringing you head under his as he pulled himself tighter to you.

And the other, outstretched–welcoming, beckoning for you to take hold.

#alternate gabriel x reader #alternate gabriel #alt gabriel #alt gabriel x reader #the mandela catalogue #mandela catalogue #mandela catalouge x reader #alt gabriel x y/n #alternate gabriel x you #alternate gabriel x y/n #alt gabriel x you #mandela catalogue fanfic #fanfic #gn reader

[missr3n3]

mandela catalogue enjoyers, pls reblog and put in the tags/reply with ur absolute favorite, underrated AU of the series!

#the mandela catalogue #mandela catalogue au #tmc au #mandela catalogue fanfic #tmc fanfic #im cooking something rn n i wanna see what all is out there

[fnafkididme]

Six x y/n

The Intruder slowly wrapped his arms around you as you lay in bed his body warm and comforting. You could feel his heart beating rapidly as he took a deep breath and nuzzled his head against your shoulder.

As his breath brushed against your skin, you could feel a surge of warmth spreading throughout your body. You let out a soft sigh and tightened your hold around him, feeling grateful for the intimacy and comfort he was offering you.

For what felt like an eternity, you both lay there, tangled in each other's arms, breathing in sync with one another. The room was quiet, and the only sound was the sound of the rain tapping against the glass.

Finally, the Intruder began to pull away, hesitantly. "I should probably let you go," he whispered, his voice soft and uncertain.

"Why?" you asked, your voice still thick with sleep. "I'm perfectly comfortable like this."

The Intruder chuckled, a low and slightly uneasy sound. "I just don't want you getting hurt," he said, his eyes full of worry.

"I trust you," you said, and the words came out with a confidence that even surprised you. You felt a surge of courage wash over you, and you tightened your hold around the Intruder, pulling him closer.

And in that moment, you knew that you were ready to face whatever the Intruder would throw your way. Because in his arms, you felt safe and protected, and that was all that mattered.

#mandela catalogue #mandela catalogue fanfic #the intruder #the mandela catalogue x reader

[neonnoir-ao3]

Helloooooo Tumblr!

After a long break from Ao3, I've returned with a vengeance!

Here's some of my newest works:

Sympathy for the Devil

Ship(s): Archangel Gabriel (The Mandela Catalogue)/Reader

Vibes: self-aware horror movie character, autistic-to-autistic conversation, a healthy dose of pop culture references mixed in with the nightmare hellscape of TMC

The Shrine of Your Lies

(spinoff of the Priest!Gabriel AU from Oh, Father by oneonedatrain8)

Ship(s): Archangel Gabriel (The Mandela Catalogue)/Reader

Vibes: hurt no comfort, emotional manipulation aftermath, angst, Hozier playing in an empty church during a thunderstorm type-beat, (it'll become hurt/comfort later)

Tales from 666 Magnolia Street

Ship(s): Archangel Gabriel/The Intruder (Six) (Stanley)

Vibes: slice-of-life, wholesome, heartfelt, Adam gets a new lease on life because in this universe he has two loving dads, also Gabriel is genderfluid here

#tmc #gabriel mandela catalogue #mandela catalouge gabriel #gabriel x reader #tmc gabriel #tmc gabriel x reader #Archangel Gabriel (The Mandela Catalogue)/Reader #the mandela catalogue #tmc fanfic #mandela catalouge au #mandela catalogue fanfic #mandela catalogue #adam murray #six tmc #tmc six #tmc stanley #stanley tmc #Gabriel x Six #Gabriel x Intruder #Gabriel x Stanley

[banana-babies]

Clumsily, unknowing in his exploration, he pet over your neck and your breath shuddered momentarily, hand twitching around his hair. He tilted his head, eyes fixed on you and nothing else. “Would you like to be the be first human I tell my plan to?”

Read More on AO3

'Your True Savior' my Gabriel & Reader Mandela Catalogue fanfiction is up on AO3! Beautiful gift fanart by @intruwuder!

#the mandela catalogue #gabriel #alt gabriel #sus gabriel #tmc #sus gabriel x reader #alt gabriel x reader #the mandela catalogue fanart #the mandela catalogue fanfiction #mandela catalogue fanfic #mandela catalogue fanfiction #tmc fanart #tmc fanfic #mandela catalogue x reader #my writing

[corvidaeconundrum]

Posting this here to hopefully get more potential traction on it since multitasking helps me get things done easier for some reason.

Mandela catalogue requests! Read the rules on the first page, and send some requests! You can do it in the asks here, or the comments of the fic itself :)

#corvidae writing #writing #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #the mandela catalogue #mandela catalogue #mandela catalogue fanfic #writing requests #self indulgence at its finest

[royal-daydream]

~Ritual Resurrection~

"The archangel Gabriel wakes up from his death and imprisonment and finds himself in a world beyond that of what he knew, With a duo of paranormal crusaders at his side, Turning their lives and what they knew themselves on their head as well."

Read the fic here v

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39331341/chapters/98428488

#themandelacatalogue #mandelacatalogueau #ritual resurrection au #archangel gabriel #archangel lucid #lucid au #adam murray #jonah marshall #mandela catalogue fanfic #fanfiction #toonbriel

[internet-sadass]

Deleting NSFW Mandela Catalogue fics

I’ll try to keep this as brief as possible but boy do i have a lot to get off my chest

So, basically, I have been writing TMC smut fics for a few weeks now but I  justified sexualizing these characters because ‘oh well that's just what happens online’ and ‘I cant help that I’m attracted to them’ and so on. I didn't really feel morally conflicted about it or felt I was doing much wrong. Until last night when I was completing another fic request and I just kind of...stopped and had this realization that what I'm doing is awful.

I'm going against Alex Kister’s wishes, I'm reducing his art to some stupid porn, I'm going against the wishes of this fandom. I'm being incredibly selfish and childish for turning a blind eye to Alex’s boundaries. I suddenly recognized how wrong this all is and I just felt utterly disgusted with myself.

I didn't get into TMC because I wanted to write about the characters in a sexual way. I got into it because I'm a long time fan of horror and ARGs. Hell, I even wrote an article about TMC for the magazine I work for since I thought it is an original and brilliant piece of horror. Yet, I’ve reduced it to fap material and shown a blatant disregard for its merits in doing so. And I just thought ‘what am I doing to this man’s passion project? Why am I reducing this series, this art, to some fuel for smut fanfics?’ 

Moreover, I used that ridiculous justification that because I'm attracted to some of the characters and others are, it’s ok to make that kind of content. Or, because I don’t write underage, inc*st, b*stiality etc. that I am not doing anything wrong. But, obviously, I am. I am purposely ignoring someone's boundaries. 

I'm not sure what flipped this switch in my mind but I'm glad it did. It feels like I’ve woken up and seen what a horrible mess I've made.

So, here’s where the conflict is. I spent hours and days writing those fics. A lot of care went into them, and deleting them would feel like I'm flushing all my work down the toilet, but at the same time, that is also very selfish of me. (i would appreciate advice on this, i am genuinely conflicted, so shoot me an anon ask or a DM or comment if you have advice). But I feel I should delete them as I NOW morally disagree with what I've been doing. I plan on deleting the fics by tomorrow (UK time)

To Alex (I know he wont see this, but regardless) I am deeply and truly sorry for the sheer disrespect I have shown you and your friends through creating this content. To the fandom, I am also deeply sorry for being part of the problem that is hurting this fandom. I do still want to be in this fandom and participate with cosplays, fanart, theories, AUs etc but I do not want to be so disrespectful to others and their boundaries. I hope I can be forgiven, but if not, I 100% understand why.

#the mandela catalogue #mandela catalogue #tmc #tmcblr #tmc fanfic #mandela catalogue fanfic #yall have no idea how fucking bad i feel about this jesus #mandela catalog #the mandela catalog #mandela catalogue fandom #i am sorry for being part of the problem

[treatsf]

Hello! Uh— fun fact for all two of you who weren’t aware, I write fanfic based on my Mandela Catalogue AU, Treats’ Take! I wrote a new chapter of my oneshot / request book, and I’d appreciate if some of you guys read it (and maybe commented on it). Thank you!

(TWs in writing)

#mandela catalogue #the mandela catalogue #mandela catalog #tmc #jonah marshall #adam murray #jonah marshall tmc #tmc jonah marshall #adam murray tmc #tmc adam murray #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #archive of our own #mandela catalogue fanfic #treatsf

[mustangs-flames]

Seven Years Old

She stands at a graveside. She is seven years old.

Death doesn't seem like a real thing at that age, where the world is bright and colourful, and there are people and connections abound. It all exists within a bubble of permanence; where time cannot touch it, cannot sink in its roots of decay. Everyone will be there forever, exactly as they are now - that's how they will always be. The mind of a child being a boundless thing, packed with abundance - of crowds of faces who will never leave, not permanently at least.

But she has known death now. And things have changed.

She sees the lines about her parents' faces, how her grandparents' hands shake. Notices now that though she's only ever known her grandfather on her mother's side, there is someone missing. There should be a grandmother. Yet there is an empty space, a void in conversations and interactions that everyone else seems to ignore. But she is fascinated by it - that emptiness. Drawn to it in some macabre way she cannot explain.

Because there is one in their home, too.

It appeared a few years ago, when she was four, she thinks. She cannot remember exactly, the memories are a little hazy, blurred around the edges like the screen of the television in the front room. And there is an ache she hadn't acknowledged before. Because she didn't know what it was back then. Now though, it eats her up inside, biting and chewing through her stomach and chest like a greedy monster - always wanting more than she has.

His name was Mark.

He had been seventeen when it happened. When he became that empty space - that pause that lingered in each room, that hung between her parents whenever they weren't yelling at each other to try and cover it up. She could see it now; that spare room she wasn't allowed to go in - her dad installing a lock she would never find the key for. That barren place at the dinner table, where a chair stood waiting for someone who wasn't going to sit. No placemats, plate, or cutlery - just a no man's land that nobody dared touch. But she would sit there and stare at it as everyone said grace and ate in silence, thinking about who it was that should be there.

Mark had brown eyes and hair, just like her. She recalls how he would smile at her, lifting her up into his arms. Or maybe its just her imagination, compensating for the fact she had been four and her parents never talk about him. But even if they are just fabrications, they're nice ones and she holds onto them. They are better than nothing. Better than pretending he never existed at all - just a card to use in another daily shouting match.

She thinks her parents blame each other.

Perhaps they are responsible. She doesn't know, for no one tells her anything. Left out of every discussion, alone and watching the hollow spaces where she believes Mark should be: in the armchair reading a book, the bathroom drying his hair on a towel, or even in the kitchen making coffee. He probably burns his hands on the mug every time. Or maybe he doesn't. Maybe she has made up that memory of him trying not to say the bad words that are banned from the house, shaking out his fingers and rubbing his reddening palms. And she laughs at him and he shoots her a look before laughing too and runs his hands under the cold faucet.

She likes that memory. She wants it to be real.

She doesn't want to forget him, the way the house seemingly has, reducing him to nothing more than a gap no one pays attention to. She can't remember the last time someone said his name out loud. So she gazes up at the photos of him on the wall and says it herself, out loud, "Mark." Because someone has to do it. Because her brother can't lose his name along with everything else. She got caught once and was firmly told to stop. So she says it under her breath instead, five times at night before falling asleep. Tucked up in bed trying to put the few pieces of him together in a way that holds, that gives him some shape rather than leaving him a scattering of tattered scraps. And slowly, day by day, week by week, he becomes more tangible, more firm and present in her mind.

But what they don't tell you is that they will haunt you.

She remembers her brother, but now he won't leave her alone. He's in everything, everywhere, all at once and she cannot shake him. She sees him in a crowded street, in the congregation at church; he stares at her with those brown eyes and his brown hair and that warm smile that makes something in her chest ache with a sharp tightness. And she begins to wonder if she should have just let him be. Let him fade into the background of it all - an ever present space in the home, but one that was manageable, one that didn't have a face she longs to see or causes her to turn and look every five minutes to check if he is still there.

Maybe her parents were right.

Maybe they knew about such hauntings and ignored the spaces left behind so they wouldn't be cursed, too.

She wishes they'd told her. Because she was only seven when she knew death. And death wore her brother's face.

It is too late to let go of him now, and she knows that as the years pass she will come to resent him; the brother she has lost, the brother who is made of fragmented memories and conjured up scenarios she's convinced herself are real, all held together by her will alone. She wants to step back and watch it all fall apart, but then he smiles at her and she knows she can't.

It's not fair, but she can't take this away from him.

It's really not fair.

So she stands at a graveside engraved with his name, and she is seven years old and realising that she will only ever compare his life to hers - all the things he missed out on, all the opportunities she will take that he never got the chance to. Her life is never going to be her own. It's a substitute for his. And she will hate him for that, loathe him most likely. But she will hold on as tightly as she can, because she sees him smiling at her as a group of people leave the church, his face but one amongst many and yet it is the only one she can see clearly.

It's the only one she wants to see clearly.

Because Mark is dead.

And Sarah Heathcliff finally understands what that means.

#tmc #the mandela catalogue #mandela catalogue fanfic #tmc sarah #sarah heathcliff #tmc mark #mark heathcliff #my writing #just a silly drabble i had to get out #this isn't htb au btw #this is meant to fit canon tmc somewhat

[lovelybunn]

𝔐𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐀 ℭ𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝔐𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 .

← go back to navi...

if a character that you want from this fandom isn't here, please check the request rules then ask!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ🗝 Ꮠ   . 🌖 ﹢

𝔄𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝔊𝐀𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐋;

playing with his hair

ㅤ

𝔗𝐇𝐄 ℑ𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐑;

nothing here... yet.

ㅤ

ℭ𝐄𝐒𝐀𝐑 𝔗𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐒;

nothing here... yet.

ㅤ

𝔐𝐀𝐑𝐊 ℌ𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐅;

nothing here... yet.

ㅤ

𝔄𝐃𝐀𝐌 𝔐𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐘;

nothing here... yet.

ㅤ

𝔍𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐇 𝔐𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋;

nothing here... yet.

ㅤ

#mandela catalogue #mandela catalogue fanfic #mandela catalogue gabriel #mandela catalogue intruder #cesar torres #mark heathcliff #adam murray #jonah marshall #mandela catalogue x reader #fanfic #fanficion #imagines #headcanons #hcs #headcanon #drabbles #blurbs

[hanahaki-ghost]

#mandela catalogue #mandela catalouge au #mandela soulmate au #Mandela catalogue fanfic

[missr3n3]

content warnings: torture, gore (both in a dream sequence), ptsd flashbacks, referenced past torture, referenced self-harm

back at it again with the usual CDTA subject matter lol. this one shot includes adam having a rough night, sarah working through her past, and jonah and evelin running into a familiar face!

#the mandela catalogue #mandela catalogue fanfic #tmc fanfic #mandela catalogue au #tmc au #adam murray #jonah marshall #evelin miller #sarah heathcliff #cut down the altar au #r3n3 writings #also the damn thing is 6k words. im so sorry OTL

[trashyreptilian]

I rise from the shadows and arrive with art once again-

More interactions between Mark and Him, cuz' content of them on my blog is severely lacking believe it or not lmao,, So please, have a mini collage and 3 little random drawn out scenarios. :>

#guys- #i'm trying to psych myself up to write by drawing these two #been too damn long since the last part to my unfinished fanfic #best friend au #alternate universe #fan characters #the mandela catalogue #mandela catalogue #him #mark heathcliff #my art