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ambiguous-avery · 2 months ago

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Moon Without Stars, Part 5

Sam Winchester x fem!Reader/You | WC: 5448

Summary: Hunters – the people who lived fast and lawless – had one rule they all abided by. No attachments. And in a world where your first touch with your soulmate would leave a brand behind, No Touching was an unspoken second rule. Not everyone followed that, but you did. Or you tried to. The last thing you needed was for fate to be cruel and bind you to someone. Least of all someone like Sam Winchester.

Tags/Warnings: Soulmate AU, sad Sam (that’s a warning all of its own), idiots fighting fate, strangers to enemies to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, angst, no use of Y/N, no beta we die like men

A/N: Finally we can let these two start getting to know each other. Nothing says relationship building like forced proximity! Moon Without Stars Masterlist

Sam’s words were devastating.

They were a wrecking ball that crashed through the walls you had spent so long meticulously building up brick by brick. A breach that tore through the dam you had spent years building. A match that kindled your entire world to ashes.

And the worst part of it all? He didn’t say a goddamn thing about it. No gloating. No shoving your face in it. No smug smirk would’ve given you all the fuel you needed to hate his guts over it.

Instead, he simply came in the next morning with a plate of eggs and bacon and toast and a glass of orange juice. Freshly showered with his hair still damp, framing his face in soft waves. You wanted to run your fingers through it. He offered you a soft,

“Good morning,” as he held the plate out for you. “You should eat,” he said simply. “Need the energy if you’re gonna walk out of here in a week.” It wasn’t sarcastic. It wasn’t taunting. It was just… a statement. No different than if he had said that the sun was bright or the rain was wet.

“I don’t need your charity,” you muttered, even as you reached up for the plate.

“It’s not charity. It’s breakfast.”

You had to fight the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips and instead chose to stab the eggs with more force than necessary. Smartass. That was a line you might’ve said if the roles were reversed.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked.

“Doing what?” Sam’s voice was so maddeningly calm. So devoid of the triumph he should’ve been parading around in your face. He set the juice down next to your empty water cup.

"This." You gestured at the food, at him, at the room around you. "Taking care of me. Acting like... like we're..." The words died in your throat because you weren't sure what exactly you were trying to say.

Sam shifted his weight and loosely crossed his arms over his chest, those hazel eyes studying you with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

"Like we're what?"

"Like we're friends," you managed, stabbing another piece of egg. "We're not friends, Winchester."

"No?" There was that small smile again, the one that barely lifted the corners of his mouth but somehow reached his eyes. "What are we then?"

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with implications you weren't ready to face. You chewed slowly, buying yourself time.

"We're... temporary allies," you decided. "Sharing space until I can get the hell out of here." Sam chuckled, and the sound did something warm and dangerous to your insides.

“Temporary allies,” he repeated, as though he were tasting the words. “Is that what you call someone who stitches you up and makes you breakfast?”

You crammed an entire piece of toast in your mouth to avoid answering, but Sam just stood there, patient as ever while you chewed. It was infuriating how he could just wait, like he had all the time in the world for you to find your words.

"I didn't ask you to do any of that," you finally muttered.

"No, you were too busy bleeding out in the back of the Impala.” Even though his tone was gentle, there was still a bite in his words. "Look, we don't have to be friends. But you’re stuck here for now, so can we at least play nice while we share space?" You narrowed your eyes at him.

"I don't play nice, Winchester. I hunt alone for a reason."

"Yeah, and how's that working out for you?" He gestured to your bandaged side with a pointed look. You wanted to throw the plate at him, but the food was too damn good to waste. Instead, you took another aggressive bite of bacon and glared.

"Fine," you conceded. "I'll play nice. But don't expect me to braid your hair or share my deepest darkest secrets over a bottle of wine."

The smile that spread across his face was like sunrise breaking through storm clouds – unexpected and annoyingly beautiful.

"I'll cancel the slumber party I was planning, then." Despite yourself, a laugh escaped your lips before you could swallow it down. Sam's eyes lit up at the sound, and something in your chest tightened uncomfortably. You covered your traitorous mouth with your hand, silently cursing yourself for giving him the satisfaction. But the damage was done. He'd heard you laugh, and judging by the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, he was entirely too pleased with himself.

"Don't look so smug," you grumbled. "I'm delirious from pain meds."

“Sure you are.” And you didn’t have to look at him to hear the smile in his voice. “When you’re done with breakfast, I need to change the dressings on those wounds and make sure things look okay.”

“I can do it myself,” you said automatically, the words coming out before you could stop them. It was a reflex at this point. A constant need to keep everyone else an arm’s length away.

“Really? You’re going to reach around and take care of the ones on your back?” When you glanced up at him between bites, you could see that he had arched an eyebrow. You chose not to dignify that question with an answer.

“Don’t suppose I can get a shower before the dressings go back on, can I? Feels like I got mauled by a pack of werewolves.”

“Those stitches are fresh. You should probably wait at least until tomorrow before getting them wet,” he said. You sighed and gingerly leaned back against the pillows.

“Fine. But I’d like to get a real shower as soon as possible.”

“I can help you with that,” Sam offered before immediately backpedaling when you stared at him wide-eyed. “I mean– not– I can pick up some stuff for you. Not actually, uh, you know...” His cheeks flushed pink, and you felt a flutter of amusement. He looked good when he was flustered. What else could you do to fluster him like that?

“Careful, people might think you care.”

“Heaven forbid,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. You couldn’t help but notice the way the damp strands curled slightly towards the ends. “I’ll, uh, I’m just gonna go grab some things. I’ll be back in a bit.” And with that, he excused himself from the room.

Left alone, you stared at the empty doorway, feeling strangely bereft without Sam’s presence. You poked at the remaining food on your plate, irritated by how much you had enjoyed the interaction with him. And how long had it been since someone cooked for you? Years, probably. The life of a hunter wasn’t the most conducive to home-cooked meals. Or any kind of domesticity. You let out a frustrated sigh.

The problem wasn’t that Sam was unkind. He was the exact opposite. He was too kind. Too gentle. Too damn understanding. It would be so much easier if he were some self-assured asshole that gave you more than enough reasons to hate him. But he wasn’t. You didn’t have a single genuine excuse to despise him.

You liked Sam. A lot.

And that was the problem. You had told yourself that leaving those last two times was the right thing to do. That the universe was wrong to mark you as his. That someone like you – broken, sharp-edged, foul-mouthed – had no business being tied to anyone, let alone someone as good as Sam Winchester. He deserved someone who still believed in the magic of soulmates like he did. Who still believed that the mark was a gift. A cosmic reassurance that you weren’t meant to be alone in the world.

Because to you, it was more like a curse. A reminder of what you weren’t allowed to have.

You finished your breakfast, surprised by how hungry you had actually been. The plate had been scraped clean by the time Sam returned with an armful of medical supplies.

“Good to see you’ve got an appetite,” he said, setting everything down on the bed.

“Food’s food,” you replied with a shrug that you immediately regretted as pain shot through your side.

“Careful,” Sam warned, his voice dropping to that low, concerned tone that made your stomach do strange things. “I need you to sit up a bit more and lift your shirt on the right side.”

You hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t that you were shy – modesty wasn’t a luxury you could afford in your line of work. You’d patched yourself up in gas station bathrooms, motel rooms, and the back seats of stolen cars. You’d stripped down in front of strangers when necessary, all in the name of survival.

But this felt different. More intimate somehow. Knowing that Sam’s full attention would be on you. His hands on your skin. If you made a move on him, just how long would his touch stay innocent and gentle?

“I can turn around if you want,” he offered, misinterpreting your hesitation.

“Wha– I’m not some maiden clutching my pearls,” you scoffed before tugging the borrowed t-shirt up to expose your bandaged side and shoulder. You slid your arm from the sleeve and let the extra fabric bunch up at your front to maintain some semblance of your dignity. “I’ve been stitched up by shadier characters than you.” Sam chuckled as he knelt beside the bed.

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” he said, carefully peeling back the adhesive tape. “Though, the bar for ‘shadier than me’ might be lower than you think.” You tried to focus on the ceiling rather than the jolts of electricity his fingers sent through your skin as he worked.

“What, you got a dark past I should know about?”

“Don’t we all in this line of work?” His tone was light, but when you glanced at him, there was something in his eyes that made you wonder just how many ghosts of his own he was carrying. But before you could dwell on it too much, he gently pulled away the old dressing, and you couldn’t suppress the hiss that escaped you as the cool air hit your wound.

“Sorry,” he murmured, inspecting his handiwork. You looked down at your side, finally able to get an idea of the damage you had sustained. There was a single, long gash that ran perpendicular to your ribs that had been neatly stitched back together with black thread. The edges of the wound were jagged and swollen and angry. “It’s looking better than it did. Less inflamed than when I put the stitches in.”

“You can thank my superhuman healing abilities,” you quipped, trying to keep the tone light and ignore how close his face was to yours. How you could smell the clean scent of his shampoo. Your eyes found the desk that sat in the corner of the room, and you spent way too much effort memorizing the little details of it.

The room fell silent as Sam worked except for the occasional sounds of crinkling gauze packaging and medical tape ripping. Despite yourself, your gaze drifted back to him, studying the concentrated furrow of his brow and the way his lips pressed together as he focused. And his goddamn hands. They were impossibly gentle for their size, careful not to do anything that would lead to unnecessary tugging or discomfort.

Though, no amount of mental distraction was enough to fully tune out the way every brush of his fingers against you sent pure electricity through your system. It was no small feat to hold still, but even when you twitched or jerked slightly, he didn’t say anything. No reprimands. No chiding. Just wordless care. It was unsettling. For you at least.

“You’re good at this,” you admitted reluctantly. “Not your first rodeo, I’m guessing?”

“Dean and I have had a lot of practice patching each other up over the years,” he said, his mouth quirking up slightly.

There was another deep wound that curved from your collarbone, over your shoulder, and down across your shoulder blade, and Sam had a point that there was no amount of twisting or contorting that would let you take care of that one by yourself. Two others on your mid-to-lower back added to that point. When Sam was done, he set about cleaning up the mess he had made, tossing wrappers into the garbage before moving to grab your empty plate from where you had set it down.

“Dean and I are going to do a supply run here soon. I can grab some things for you. Do you still have my number?” Memorized it. Forwards, backwards, upside down, you could recite it in at least three languages. Just in case.

“It’s somewhere around here,” you said nonchalantly.

“Well if you need anything specific, just text or call,” Sam said. “I know being stuck here isn’t ideal.”

You nodded, tugging your – Sam’s – shirt back down. The bunker was stifling in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature. The weight of the domesticity, of being cared for, was what made it hard to breathe. You weren’t used to staying in one place for more than a couple of nights, let alone being confined to a bed while someone fussed over you.

“Some clothes of my own would be nice,” you admitted. “And I don’t know what kind of soap situation you guys have here, but if all you have is a five-in-one bodywash-shampoo-conditioner monstrosity, then I’m going to walk out of here by the end of today.”

Sam laughed, the sound rich and warm, and your mark decided that it was singlehandedly the best sound you had ever heard in your entire life. No contest.

“Noted. Text me your sizes. I’ll see what I can find.”

“Hey,” you blurted out before he could leave. He paused in the doorway, turning back to look at you with those patient eyes.

“Yeah?”

Your throat constricted. What were you going to say? Thank you? Sorry for being so difficult? I’ve been running from you because I’m terrified that the second I give in the universe is going to take you away from me? Instead, all that came out was,

“Nothing floral. With the soap, I mean. I don’t want to smell like a flower shop exploded.” You saw the ghost of a smile tug at his lips.

“Got it. No flowers. Any other preferences I should know about?”

“I like mint. Or… citrus is fine.” You fidgeted with the edge of the blanket, suddenly feeling ridiculous for making such a silly request.

“Mint or citrus. I can manage that.” And with that, he left.

You sank into the pillows with a heavy sigh, your weight sagging into them with a tiredness that permeated through your bones. You drained your glass of water before pulling the blankets up a little higher over you and letting the warm feeling of safety lull you into a surprisingly peaceful sleep. Thoughts of Sam’s hands on you chased you into your dreams.

When you woke, you found yourself bathed in darkness. The lamp on your bedside table had been turned off, and without any windows in the room, it was hard to say how long you had been out for. Everything felt stiff and sore from sleeping in one position for too long, and your mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. You fumbled around for the lamp, wincing as soft, golden light flooded the room when you found it.

Your water glass was full. And four pills had been set out in one of those plastic dosage cups that came with liquid medicines. You groaned as you sat up and swung your legs over the side of the bed, testing the give of your wounds. You were achy for sure, but not so much that you couldn’t manage a small walk. Anything to get out of bed. You downed the pills with a happy gulp of water, sighing in content as you did so.

There was a small bag sitting on the chair Sam had occupied earlier, and curiosity got the better of you. When you peeked inside of it, you found clothes that weren’t yours but were definitely meant to be. A simple pair of black sweatpants, a soft gray t-shirt, and a pack of underwear that still had the tags on them. There was also a small toiletry bag with a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a bottle of citrus-scented body wash. No floral nonsense, just as you had requested.

You went back and double checked the tags on the clothes, realizing that you hadn’t ever texted Sam. You had meant to, really. But he seemed to have guessed your size just fine regardless. You grabbed your phone off the bedside table and checked it.

2 New Messages

1 Missed Call

You navigated to your calls, and you swore your heart skipped a beat seeing HIM on your missed call list. The call had come in several hours ago. Unsurprisingly, the two texts were from him too. When had he gotten… right. When you had texted him in a moment of weakness during the time you had spent avoiding him. How could you forget?

What size shirt and pants do you wear?

I guessed on the sizes. Hope I wasn’t too far off the mark. Let me know if you need anything else.

You stared at the messages, warmth spreading through your chest despite your best efforts to squash it. You glanced at the time on your phone: 9:43pm. Jesus… you had slept the entire day away. You changed into the fresh clothes, hesitating when it came to stripping out of Sam’s shirt. You weren’t ready to give that up so soon. So you simply changed into a fresh pair of underwear and the sweatpants.

It hadn’t even been a full 24-hours since you first woke up here, but it would be nice to get to know the layout of the place a little better, especially if you were going to be stuck here for the next week. Not to mention there was an uncomfortable pressure in your bladder. And the idea of leaving the confines of your room was too tempting to ignore.

The hallway outside your door was well-lit. The bunker was quiet except for the dull hum of electricity and the occasional creaking that every old building seemed to make. You moved slowly, one hand trailing along the wall for support, bare feet against the cold bunker floor. The place was much larger with far more rooms than you had initially expected. There was a number ‘20’ on your door, and you briefly wondered how many other people called this place home. Or at least home base.

You had no idea where anything was, but your stomach growled. It echoed in the hallway and reminded you that breakfast had been your only meal of the day so far. Okay, new plan. Kitchen then bathroom. Sam had brought in freshly cooked food earlier which clearly meant there had to be a kitchen around. Or a hot plate. Maybe a stash of MREs? It took you a few wrong turns before you finally found the kitchen in question. But not before you had stumbled into a library of sorts. You filed the location of that away for later. For now, food.

You flipped the kitchen light on and dug through the cupboards, trying to find something edible that wouldn’t take much effort to put together. Just the walk to the kitchen had quickly burned through what little energy you had, though you weren’t sure if it was the lack of food or your body healing that took it more out of you. The cupboard was surprisingly well-stocked. Whoever lived here clearly shopped regularly, which struck you as odd for hunters. Most of the ones you knew lived off of convenience store food and booze, you included. Then again, Sam had mentioned earlier about a supply run, so more than likely it was just the aftermath of that.

You moved to the fridge and opened it, the light inside casting a soft glow that spilled onto the tiled floor. Carefully, you scanned the shelves, reaching for an apple but pausing when you spotted something better on the top shelf. Sitting in the corner was a pie tin with a single slice remaining. It took you all of three seconds of consideration before you reached for it. Leftovers always tasted better at night. It was a secret of the universe that anyone would’ve agreed with you on.

You moved with quiet precision, a habit you had developed in your years of hunting. It had been ingrained in you from the very beginning to never make more noise than necessary. As your fingers closed around the pie tin, the cold metal of it bit against your skin. You slid it from its spot carefully and set it on the counter before closing the fridge door with a soft thump, sealing the pie’s fate as your prize. Lost in the sweet indulgence of stolen pie, you missed the way your mark had warmed, and it wasn’t until Sam cleared his throat that you swiftly pulled one of the kitchen knives from the block on the counter and whirled around to face him, your stitches pulling uncomfortably with the sudden movement.

“Whoa, whoa, easy there!” Sam’s hands went up in a gesture of surrender, palms facing you like a shield. “It’s just me.” You huffed out a sigh, your grip on the knife relaxing ever so slightly as your shoulders sagged.

“Jesus Christ,” you hissed, “Don’t you know better than to sneak up on someone?” Your heart hammered against your ribcage, adrenaline coursing through you. Sam’s lips quirked upward, his eyes flicking between your face and the knife still pointed at him.

“Says the person stealing pie in the middle of the night.” He took a cautious step forward. “You gonna put that down or…?”

You slowly lowered the knife, watching his slow movements towards you.

“I was hungry,” you explained, setting the knife down and gesturing vaguely to the pie. “Didn’t want to wake anyone up.”

“So you decided to steal Dean’s pie instead?” Amusement was laced in Sam’s voice as he spoke. “That’s bold of you. He counts the slices, you know.”

“Oh.” You glanced down at the dessert. “Sorry, I didn’t realize–”

“No, no,” Sam chuckled, moving to your side and pulling out a fork from a nearby drawer. His arm brushed against yours, and you felt your mark hum in response. “This is actually perfect. He’s been annoying me all day.” He handed you the fork. “I’ll just tell him a stabby raccoon got into it.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, a slow smile spreading across your face despite your best efforts.

“Stabby raccoon? Really?”

“If the knife fits.” Sam leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement drew your attention to the way his flannel stretched across his shoulders. They were so damn broad, and with him standing right next to you, it was impossible not to notice just how tall he stood. He was an absolute mountain of a man. A mountain you’d like to climb. You’d gotten pretty decent at identifying which thoughts were your own and which ones were coming from your mark. And that was definitely the mark talking. Though… you might’ve agreed with it… just a little bit.

“I’ve been asleep all day,” you defended, popping off the plastic cover of the pie and digging your fork in. “I’m starving.” The first bite was heavenly. Sweet but not overwhelming. With just the perfect amount of cinnamon to offset it. Even cold, it was delicious. You briefly closed your eyes, savoring it. You couldn’t think of the last time you had treated yourself to a simple indulgence like this. When you opened your eyes to go for another bite, Sam was watching you with an expression that made you pause.

“Good?” he asked, his voice softer than before.

“Really good,” you admitted between bites. “Though now I understand why your brother would count the slices.”

“Dean would be happy to hear that. Well… after he murdered you for eating his last slice.” Sam’s smile was infectious, and you took another bite in an attempt to stifle your grin. The kitchen was quiet except for the soft scrape of your fork against the metal tin. You were painfully aware of his presence beside you. The silence between you stretched, though it wasn’t quite as uncomfortable as you remembered it.

“I’m surprised you’re up and walking around already,” he said finally. “Those were some pretty nasty wounds.”

“I’m not the type to stay in one place for too long. I’d go stir-crazy if I stayed in that room the whole week.”

“I can imagine. You don’t strike me as someone who likes being cooped up.” You paused mid-bite, studying him with a sideways glance.

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you’re stubborn,” Sam replied without missing a beat. “I know you’re resourceful enough to survive on your own for years. You’re brave to the point of recklessness. And I know that you’re good at what you do.” His eyes never left yours as he spoke. The fork stilled halfway to your mouth, pie precariously perched on the tines. How could he do that? How could he peel back your layers so easily? It wasn’t fair. You had spent years building your walls, but here he was, walking right through them like they were nothing.

“Those are generalizations that could apply to any hunter,” you countered, setting the fork down with more force than necessary. “That’s not knowing me.” Sam shrugged, his shoulders rolling with the movement.

“Maybe not. But I’d like to.”

The simple honesty in his voice caught you off guard. It would’ve been so much easier if he just kept his distance. If he treated you with the same guarded suspicion that you gave to everyone else. That was a dance you knew by heart, and you could do it all day long. Keeping people at an arm’s length away and never letting them any closer was something you could do as easily as breathing. It kept them safe, you told yourself. It kept you safe.

“And what if you don’t like what you find?” The words came out as a whisper, far more vulnerable than you had intended. Sam moved a fraction closer, his side just barely touching your shoulder. You could feel his warmth through the fabric of his shirt. Your mark practically sang at the contact, and you couldn’t deny that it felt nice. You didn’t flinch away.

“I’m willing to take that chance.” His voice was low, almost a gentle rumble that you could feel in your chest. “You know what I think?”

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me whether I want to hear it or not,” you muttered, stabbing at the pie.

“I think you’re scared of something that isn’t a monster.”

And for the second time in less than 24 hours, his words hit like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from your lungs. Your fingers tightened around the fork until your knuckles turned white. You were exposed. Flayed open like a fish on a cutting board with your insides laid bare for him to see. Your knee-jerk reaction was to deny it. To cover it with your bravado you wore like armor. To push him away. To bare your fangs and claws to protect yourself. But wasn’t that what you had been doing? It was exhausting. The running. The hiding. The fighting.

“Aren’t we all afraid of something?”

Sam’s gaze was soft in the kitchen lighting. It simultaneously made him look younger and older. He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached for a second fork from the drawer and scooped up a bite of pie for himself. Your instinct was to protect your prize, to live up to your ‘stabby’ title and jab your fork into his outstretched hand. But something about the shared moment kept you from following through.

“Yeah,” he finally admitted, savoring his stolen bite. “We are. But most hunters run towards the things that scare them. Not away.” You set the pie down on the counter between you.

“That’s different,” you said, gingerly crossing your arms over your chest. “Monsters are predictable. You know what they want. What they’ll do. How to kill them.” You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Sam’s gaze on you. “People are messier.”

“Is that why you run? Because I’m messy?”

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with implications and unspoken secrets. You could lie. You could deflect. You could do what you had always done: run. But for the first time in a long time, you found yourself wanting to stay. Wanting to face this head-on.

“No. I am.” And something in you cracked a little more, the fracture spider webbing outwards. Sam’s eyes softened, and he set his fork down.

“We’re all messy. It comes with the territory.”

“No. Not like this. Not like me.”

“You wanna elaborate on that?” Sam asked, leaning his hip against the counter, his full attention on you. It was simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating to be the sole focus of those hazel eyes. You liked how he looked at you.

“Not particularly.” You reached for the pie again, using it as a shield. A distraction. Anything to avoid the way he seemed to see right through your carefully constructed layers.

“Fair enough.” He didn’t push, and somehow that made it worse. The way he just accepted whatever you were willing to give. You ate the rest of the pie in silence, and he didn’t try for another bite even when you offered it to him.

"You should probably head back to bed," Sam suggested, his voice gentle in the kitchen's quiet. "Doctor's orders."

"You're a doctor now?" You raised an eyebrow, setting the empty pie tin aside.

"I've got more medical experience than most ER residents." There was no arrogance in his statement, just a simple fact. "And I say you need rest."

"Fine, Dr. Winchester." You pushed away from the counter and immediately regretted it as your legs wobbled beneath you. The short excursion had drained what little energy you'd managed to recover. Sam noticed instantly, taking a step toward you with his hands hovering near your elbows, ready to catch you but not quite touching.

"You okay?"

"Just peachy," you muttered, steadying yourself against the counter. Your pride wouldn't let you admit how weak you still were, but your body was betraying you with every trembling step. The journey to the kitchen had seemed manageable earlier, but now the prospect of walking all the way back to your room felt like scaling Everest.

The two of you walked back to your room in silence. Sam stayed close enough that you could hold onto him to steady yourself – you didn’t – but far enough away that you wouldn’t accidentally brush him against him. The message was clear enough. Any contact would have to be initiated by you. Which was good. That was how you wanted it. No touching beyond what was strictly necessary. Just how you liked it. Why were you disappointed?

“I’m right next door if you need me,” Sam said, motioning to the door with a ‘21’ on it. “And you can call or text anytime. If you’re up for it, I can show you around the bunker a bit tomorrow.” You studied him for a moment, trying to find the angle. The catch. But all you could find was sincerity.

“I’d like that,” you admitted, surprised by your own honesty. “I think I saw a library earlier?”

“Yeah. It’s a good one; you’ll like it,” he smiled slightly, a soft, gentle one that made your stomach flip. “Good night.” He said your name, and it was like you were hearing it for the first time. There was no edge to it. No underlying tone that suggested he was annoyed with you. Just… Sam.

You hesitated, parting your lips like you might say something more. But instead, all that came out was a quiet,

“Night.” The door clicked softly behind you, and you didn’t see how Sam lingered a moment longer, staring at the space where you had stood. You leaned against the door, heart thudding in a way you were too terrified to name.

The world was tilting towards Sam. And you were falling.

---

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Part 4 --- Part 6

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noinoi10101010 · 10 days ago

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A theory about eals monty

So eals monty is a lot different from the monty in the previous dimensions. She is a lot more stand offish and actually hates earth ( I know shocker I Monty hates an earth) but I have a theory as to way they act like this. In the eals something happened to the sun and moon of the dimension with the implications that they ended up dieing with would explain why they made earth and lunar as the new daycare attendants. And in lunar's obsession Andrea says the reason she act like this is Reason she can't talk about with further proves the point I am trying to say and that eals monty had something to do with sun and moon disappearance or was extremely close to both of them. As one she has in common with the other Monty is that they are usually the close with sun and moon of their dimensions SAMS dimensions Monty is good friend with sun and moon, in the EAPS dimension Molly is at lest firends with sunshine and moonshine, hell in ruin's dimension rusted end up dating the sun and moon there or at lest a fusion of the two, so the point is I think the monty in eals was either involved with the sun and moon of this dimension disappearance or was extremely affected by it cause of how close she was to them she bottles up her grief will being an asshole. I think her being involved in it is more likely and it very possible she ended either harming them badly or killing them and it would make a whole lot of sense especially if she was close with both of them

#sun and moon show #tsams #the sun and moon show #sams #eclipse and puppet show #eaps #laes #lunar and earth show #Eals monty

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alexandraisyes · 2 years ago

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WHOA LOOK GUYS ITS MOON

Now that I have your attention. . . I have been working on a Sun and Moon Show AU recently, I'm calling it "Twisted Celestials" due to both the nature of the reality they end up in, as well as the way their designs... twist when Sun does done fucks up.

I'm currently halfway through character references and cards. Each character gets a flat color reference sheet as well as a close-up "character card". There are ten characters, which means there are twenty artworks just to start the AU. I have finished five, so I'll be posting them for your fine dining. It takes about 5 hours to do both a sheet and a card, so about 50 hours to do the rest of the characters, so please bear with me haha. The summary and artworks are under the cut.

I've been very excited to share this AU, I've been talking about it on my server and on the SAMS server. I can't currently say too much, but the basic thought that got me started was, "What if, when Moon reset and Eclipse came in boasting with the star in hand... Sun just snapped?"

Sun loses control of his emotions, done does fuck up, and tears up their reality, as well as the neighboring ones (since we know the Multiverse is canon in the SAMS). Which means that if they showed up after that episode, they don't exist here. Helps keep things simple. I'll go into greater depth about how the new reality functions, who goes where, current and future dynamics, etc at a later time.

Currently planned for the AU: - The rest of the references and cards - Lore implicative artworks - Smaller animatics that mostly touch on the background plot - Two full-blown animatics that are for the lore - A series of written works that will be posted on my main Ao3 account

Non-important artist note, but I giggle going through these. I've uploaded them in chronological order of when I drew them, and you can see how I've had to relearn faces. (Earth doesn't count, she's purely machine and is literally built like that). Very proud with how fast I picked up the trade again, and Blood is such a pretty man I-

*Ahem*

Anyways, hope you're as excited for this as I am to share it with you.

Also, the finished artwork of Moondrop that I showed the sketch of at in the beginning to catch your attention.

#sun and moon show #five nights at freddy's #Twisted Celestials AU #TCAU SAMS #bloodmoon sams #solar sams #lunar sams #earth and lunar show #earth sams #Moondrop #sams au #art #character sheet #character reference

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ikamigami · 1 year ago

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Hmm

Hmmmm

It's a funny coincidence that latest sams lore episode had Moon "meeting" New Moon (or Nexus lmao) just when I was thinking that maybe Dark Sun want Moon and New Moon to be at each other's neck..

Cause what if Dark Sun wants Moon and Nexus to pit against each other?

Because let's not forget that Dark Sun got the chip with Old Moon out of New Moon's head..

He probably knew that someone would take Old Moon from space.. like..

He hates Moons so I wouldn't be surprised if he just wants them to fight each other and maybe even get themselves killed?

Because then Dark Sun could be like "well I didn't do anything, they did that to themselves because all Moons are just the same.. aggressive, toxic, egotistic.. (etc)"

I can imagine such scenario happening tbh

I'm not surprised that New Moon isn't as "smart" as Moon.. I used " " cause I think that New Moon is also smart but he just doesn't have all the knowledge that Moon gathered throughout years.. New Moon is online only for a bit over a year..

I'm not surprised that Moon was laughing at Nexus' name and intelligence either.. but I think that Moon is just an asshole..

I'm also not surprised that Sun didn't tell Moon about Solar's death.. it's too traumatic to him - the death in itself and New Moon's descent into insanity afterwards..

I think that Sun is dreading Solar's return because what if Solar will be disappointed in Sun?

I bet that Solar will be upset at what New Moon has done especially that he almost killed Earth..

But he may be disappointed in Sun thinking that Sun could've done more to prevent this outcome..

Or worse actually.. I'm sure that Solar will blame himself for this.. because he wasn't there to stop New Moon..

But this has pretty obvious implications that Sun is incompetent and can't do anything on his own.. he was unable to prevent this outcome..

Solar died and there was no one who could fill in his role..

I think that Sun is afraid that Solar's return will cement the fact that he's a better brother and Sun is a failure..

And I bet that Sun is also afraid that Moon may take Nexus' side.. and if Solar would be disappointed in Sun and Moon would agree.. that would just further prove that Sun is a bad brother..

Also I've seen someone saying that Sun was also laughing at New Moon's inventions (iirc) but I think that he wasn't laughing at them but he just genuinely doesn't understand the point of why they were created in the first place.. but the same was with Old Moon's inventions..

Sun just doesn't understand why Moon is creating some of the things he's creating but he never seemed to laugh at these inventions.. he only sometimes were against some of the inventions that were dangerous..

Also I'm glad that it turned out that Moon just forgot to tell Sun about Molten ^^

Hmm though he still didn't say about the fact he'll help Ruin but I think that it's not because he wants to keep secrets from Sun.. he genuinely seems to try to do better than before..

And this is what makes me happy ^^

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autumnalwalker · 2 years ago

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Find the Word Tag

Thank you for the tag, @sam-glade.

My words to find are sun, people, stone, fly.

Passing the tag to @void-botanist, @skyderman, @avocado-frog, @oh-no-another-idea, and the usual open tag.

Your words shall be moon, alone, shout, & sway.

Sun: Empty Names Side Story - There Are No Dogs At The Dog Park

“Well, I know that sometimes you can see the moon during the daytime and I didn’t know if that would…” Sarah trails off in a mixture of nerves and embarrassment, “do things to me?”

Eris nods, understanding. “Yeah, I get that. But nah, from what I’m told as long as the sun’s up the most the moon’s gonna do to ya is make you a bit restless. Maybe amp up your hearing and smell a little bit while making colors weird if you’re real sensitive to it.”

“From what you hear?” Sarah starts at the realization. “You mean you’re not… not a…”

“Werewolf?” Eris finishes her question with a grin. “You’re allowed to say it, you know. But nah, I just show up once a month to provide a pair of opposable thumbs while you all have fun running around under the moon. My job’s mostly to drive you all out to the middle of the Sanctuary just before sundown, help steer anyone that wanders off away from the fences, and pick you all up in the morning with a change of clothes.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume. I just -” Sarah cuts herself off, realizing there’s no good way to end that sentence.

To her relief, Eris just laughs. “It’s fine. You’re not the first to make that mistake and I doubt you’ll be the last. And honestly, it’s far from the worst thing I’ve been called.”

People: The Archivist's Journal, Day 240

In Maiko’s case, this was the most excited I’d ever seen her. As she was guiding us along, pointing out the past few day’s observations she was actually grinning, smirking even at times with the anticipation of revealing a great surprise. And as I put the pieces together she even joined me in a rapid back and forth of what all this could mean.

She took it as proof that there really had been other people living here once besides the Village we all knew. Possibly her people. She was finally, finally on the right track. Now she just needed to figure out where they went from here.

She really might not be alone.

It was the look on Lin’s and Cass’s faces behind her that made me trail off mid-sentence from talk of planning future return visits and further searching for former inhabitants or, more likely, their descendants.

None of us voiced it, but once I stopped and took a few seconds to think about it, it was obvious. The unspoken question that cast a shadow over our walk back to Iole’s hut and the evening’s dinner. The implication that Maiko seemed oblivious to in her renewed hope.

The Village has been around forever and seems to be eternal. But there was once another Village, and now there isn’t.

Could the same thing, whatever it was, happen again, this time to ours?

Stone: Empty Names - 3 - Dance Partners

The girl did not think about what she was doing when she called out. Not the first time to get the couple’s attention, and not the second time to warn them of the unnatural thing coming from the water. Nor did the ramifications on her own safety cross her mind when she picked up a stone and threw it at the creature that was coming faster now toward the couple who was too busy screaming to run.

Such thoughts came after the stone collided with the creature’s head, causing it to recoil momentarily before turning to set its sights on her. The moment between realizing what she’d just brought upon herself and turning to flee was the first time the girl ever swore aloud.

Fly: The Archivist's Journal, Day 262

It felt good. There’s something mundanely magical about how gravity slackens its grip on you in the water. Well, of course that’s not what’s actually happening, but buoyancy can make it feel that way. The closest one can typically get to flying. And even when you’re not truly swimming, but just standing in water up to your chest or shoulders it’s easy to imagine that you’ve temporarily gained a heretofore unpossessed grace and poise, now able to balance on a single toe as you strike poses you’d be unable to hold on dry ground. “Jumping” and delaying your “landing” simply by pulling your legs up under you. Even the resistance of water to your movements can contribute to the feeling if you work with it instead of against it. Make your movements even and deliberate and the enforced slowness takes on a quality between performative and meditative.

On the other hand, trying all that in the ocean with waves instead of a still body like a pool or lake rather detracts from the mystique. Hard to be graceful when every few seconds you get pushed about and dunked with salt water. Still, I made a sort of game of it, searching for a rhythm by which to move my body and adjust my stance to sway with the waves. I wasn’t particularly successful and I’m sure to any outside observer I would have looked ridiculous, but I enjoyed getting lost in the moment. That joyful focus on and union with my own body that let me forget the sorrows of the mind for a time.

#tag game #find the word tag #manuscript search tag #writeblr #my writing #writers on tumblr #writing tag games #empty names #the archivist's journal

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thedenofravenpuff · 2 years ago

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Quick SAMS notes

Sun And Moon Show, controversial for plenty of things, but a past complaint was “it’s too straight/cis” so I just felt like reporting on later developments.

Moon was confirmed confirmed Aro/Ace early on and reaffirmed later (despite Moon/Monty shippers).

Monty flustered Sun by flirting.

Monty talked about not feeling right in his own skin, still left unexplored, but holds some implications.

Lunar been called they/them ever since the Eclipse Arc.

Implied Lunar has two dads (Eclipse using Sun’s code to create them, but that’s mostly me clinging onto crazy AI theory and Lunar going “Ain’t you technically my mom?” at Eclipse once).

Blood Moon is they/them, even if cuz they are two entities in one body who refuses to exist without the other.

Pretty sure Kill Code is recognized as he/it depending on who is talking. And Kill Code doesn’t care beyond claiming itself the title “father” for the sake of the dominance being the patriarch provides among AI all calling each other brother.

Outside the SAMS, looking into the sister-channels: Chica is openly gay

Roxanne Wolf and Circus confirmed bi/pan by dating, and Baby plenty of times going “Yeah, I could” at a lot of characters despite genders.

Shadow Freddy open for anything as long it’s creepy.

Glamrock Bonnie is bi at the very least, just certain preferences.

Glitchtrap will tap anything monstrous, gender not questioned.

Funtime Freddy... is a freak, less said is for the better.

#PuffBlog #SAMS #The Sun And Moon Show #Just sharing thoughts #Youtube #Vtuber #FNAF #FNAF Security Breach

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nocturnalgemstones · 3 years ago

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Wait, so Lunar went to Moon despite fully expecting Moon to get rid of him?

Wow he really has given up hasn't he? Like completely.

"I'm just kinda done. I don't care about the outside world anymore. I don't care about doing stuff out there. Not like it matters."

Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no

#i don't like the implications of this....#the sun and moon show #sams spoilers

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yourstrulynobody · 3 months ago

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EAPS Roxanne coming back to see Eclipse caring for Charlie... By playing "Hello Kitty Island Adventure" with her!! lmao (based off the end of "Eclipse CONFRONT Charlie's DAD" :3)

(She def sent this to Ballora haha)

#eclipse and puppet show #teaps #eaps #teaps eclipse #teaps charlie #eaps eclipse #eaps charlie #implications of teaps roxanne #implications of eaps roxanne #teaps roxanne #eaps roxanne #sun and moon show #tsams #sams #tsams eclipse #sams eclipse #dad sams/eaps eclipse!!!#look at my formerly villian son growing :3

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catflowerqueen · 3 years ago

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Thoughts on today's SAMS episode:

I'm a little worried that maybe Lunar mixing up colors isn’t him being colorblind but is actually the “corruption” thing Eclipse talked about so long ago. It could just be because his and Moon’s systems literally just got fried right now, but it is definitely concerning--especially given that little mention of his issues yesterday, and how that might indicate things have gotten worse since the texture pack episode. Sun immediately fussing over them and wanting to make them both comfortable was very sweet, though.

Regarding the main part of the episode, I really love how it shows how much character growth both Moon and Lunar have gone through since the start. Moon admitting that he would have done anything to be alone and free back when he was younger, but how he isn’t interested in that now—with the implication that it’s because of how much he really does care for his brothers, even if they inconvenience him at times—and Lunar getting to actually insult Eclipse and tell him his true feelings without worry, and how he has always had value and no longer needs Eclipse even though Eclipse clearly needs him.

And it was really interesting to see Eclipse admit that not only is Sun actually similar to him, but that he does, actually, miss Lunar despite not outright saying so. At the very least he conceded to Lunar and Moon’s points about him being bored.

Eclipse thinking that Moon was just utilizing a back-up, though, rather than being from a different dimension does make me wonder what exactly happened to this dimension’s Moon. Did he not actually make back-ups? Has he just been biding his time? Did he actually give up completely? I’m not certain we’ll ever get answers, as I don’t think they’ll go back there (which does make me a little sad for the plight of everyone else that just got that storm dropped on them, but it’s possible that some of them might be able to band together and survive? ��Maybe?), but I think I can live with that.

Hopefully Moon and Lunar can get fixed soon and will be okay, with no lingering issues. And it is a good thing that Sun started making a new chip, even if he didn’t actually get to use it himself. Maybe they can make him another one later? And hopefully Bloodmoon doesn’t take this as an opportunity to strike…

Next lore episode should be interesting, assuming they don’t just gloss over the recovery period.

#SAMS #sun and moon show #spoilers #fnaf security breach

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thegayhimbo · 4 years ago

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While I get that Jason had his problems in season 1 and wasn't always nice, I feel bad that his character development and growth are always overlooked and ignored.

In season 2, he turned on the Fellowship of the Sun and came to rescue Sookie, even after Steve Newlin tried to have him killed because he loved his sister that much and didn't want to lose her.

He was also willing to humbly apologize to Sookie and Bill for how he acted previously, which shows he isn't as arrogant as people claim he is, and that he can acknowledge his faults and try to improve.

He worked with Andy to rescue Sam from Maryann's followers, and later accepted Sam as a shapeshifter with no judgment on his part. He even thought it was cool that Sam was a shapeshifter.

He helped comfort Sookie when Bill disappeared, and later helped her clean Gran's house after Maryann's rampage. He was also willing to accept Sookie's relationship with Bill (which is more than Bill deserved honestly considering how much of a manipulative asshole he was).

He was there for Sookie at the hospital, and was relieved when she recovered. He also was wiling to let Bill help her, even though he's the one that assaulted her in the truck.

He came to Tara's aid against Franklin which was an incredibly brave thing to do considering how psychotic and dangerous Franklin was as a vampire.

He looked after Crystal's werepanther tribe for an entire year, and provided them with food and supplies. He could have easily walked away at any point, or turned them over to the police, but he didn't, even when he had no guarantee of ever seeing Crystal again. And what makes it even more heartbreaking is that he ended up getting gang-raped for his troubles, and was victim-blamed by the show AND by the fandom, with the implication being he deserved to be raped (which is fucking disgusting).

He also helped Lafayette and Jesus move in together with his truck.

He tried to help Andy off of his V addiction, which is more than Andy deserved since he was making really poor choices at that point and was becoming an asshole to everyone. He even endangered Jason's life at several points (including leaving Jason at Hotshot to get gang-raped) because of his V-addiction, and Jason still covered for him in spite of this.

He risked his life to save Jessica when Antonia's spell was going to force her to walk in the sun, even at the risk of getting his head ripped off by her.

He worked with Sookie, Lafayette, and Jesus to rescue Tara from Moon Goddess Emporium in season 4, and later stood up for Sookie when Eric and Bill were badmouthing her.

He tried to help comfort Sookie when she thought she was responsible for her parents deaths, and told her it wasn't her fault and made breakfast-in-bed for her.

He worked with Andy and the other police to track down the other members of the Hate Group, and save the lives of Hoyt and Sookie while also putting an end to Bud Dearborne's murders of innocent supernaturals.

When he found out that Warlow was coming to claim Sookie, he worked to protect her and even saved her life when Warlow turned into an attempted rapist.

When Russell and Steve were coming to claim Sookie in season 5, he offered himself up as bait to lure them into a trap so that Sookie would be safe.

In season 6, Jason tried to rescue Jessica from the Vampire Concentration Camps, and was disgusted and horrified with what people were doing to the vampires there. He also helped Eric later on when he was trying to find the other vampires.

By season 7, he was more than happy to work with other vampires to rescue the hostages at Fangtasia.

Heck, if there's ever a moment that defined his character development, it's in the series finale when Sookie comes over to his house because she needs someone to listen to her about her choice to stay faerie or become human, and Jason tells her regardless of what choice she makes, he will love her either way.

I'm sorry, but when I compare Jason to other characters and how problematic their behavior is, he comes out looking a lot better. If anything, it seems like people really don't give him credit for anything he does right.

#true blood #jason stackhouse #tgh opinions

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nullset2 · 4 years ago

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Death Stranding and The Last Man on the Beach

I had a very personal connection with Hideo Kojima's Death Stranding last year. I liked its aesthetic, the symbolism, and really enjoyed the story and characters (even though they were a bit too deviantart for my tastes at some points). Its bullet points really resonated with me. It's a fantastic and misunderstood game, with obviously undercooked parts, but still more than worth its price of admission. It's a game about estrangement, heartbreak, loneliness, stress, death, sadness, crying (oh so much crying), and humanity coming together in the face of a catastrophe of massive scale.

In DS, people live in individual isolated rooms, cannot touch each other, interact exclusively through the Internet, and have to cover their faces around each other, and the amount of impact of a voidout is communicated through a map full of expanding dots, interesting, right? Turns out DS is also very apropos with the zeitgeist.

I like its depiction of The Beach. In DS, every character has the ability to travel to an interdimensional space called The Beach after Sam Porter disrupts the balance between life and death as the first repatriate, the first baby able to come back from the dead after he gains that power from Bridget Strand's gift as an extinction entity, which eventually led to the creation of the Chiral Network.

Chiral means "hand" etymologically, by the way. I didn't know. It makes an allusion to the current state of things, where we have a very powerful network that provides wifi everywhere, and that has enabled a lot of technology, but where at the same time we're still at a "crossroads", and we still need people to deliver our packages and drive our cars. We're still a ways to go from the Singularity where all of those things will be fully automated I guess. It also makes an allusion as in how the network can be a way to seek "connection", to reach out for the touch of the Other.

And I loved it because of its implications in an era of isolation like ours. I think that people, more and more, are opting out of relationships and interconnection in the age of the Internet, because it's the easy, clean and uncomplicated thing to do. The Internet can provide bastardized facsimiles of everything you could ever want and then some. There's no reason to suffer with the real world if you can just get hooked addictively to the saccharine world Online. For more and more people every day, the Internet is enough.

In Jungian literature, bodies of water represent the unconscious mind and by proxy, chaos. Taming the balance between consciousness and unconsciousness, between order and chaos, and between light and dark truly is one of the fundamental --if not, THE fundamental-- problem of the human condition. The fact that we evoled from beasts, unaware of their own nature, unable to recognize the future and plan ahead and think, to the curreht Homo Sapiens Sapiens is nothing short of marvelous. So, that's why I like depictions of water: it represents the abyss of the unconscious and how problematic it can be for the mind. Truly, if one goes into the water without due precautions, they will drown, much as how states of depression, anxiety and all neuroses are excesses of the unconscious mind seeping into our conscious life.

Being in the beach is being in the fringe between two worlds, which is a fantastic analogy for the modern middle aged man and for the modern, technological man. Living between two realities, with two natures, is the state of many if not all, in an era where reality trascends through the Internet. By being in between, we are nowhere -- neither here nor there. By living in the culture of the Now Now, we live in the never ending present, future nor past evermore. A soothing place, if also eerily lonely --and a place that is starting to give us all feelings of Death, of maybe being the last man standing after all.

It's an allusion to the Millenial generation: stuck between the future and the past, between the digital and analogue world, a cynical, fatigued generation that had to learn to be adults twice but feels at home nowhere in the world who uses social media a FUCKING LOT.

A passage from Seneca's epistles also makes an allusion to the beach, and I quote: "People may say: "But what sort of existence will the wise man have, if he be left friendless when thrown into prison, or when stranded in some foreign nation, or when delayed on a long voyage, or when out upon a lonely shore?" His life will be like that of Jupiter, who, amid the dissolution of the world, when the gods are confounded together and Nature rests for a space from her work, can retire into himself and give himself over to his own thoughts." So the beach is kind of like a purgatory of the self where people can retire into themselves and their own thoughts according to the cultural baggage of the Western world to be reborn and to emerge a better person.

So, is this going to be the gold standard for the Aeon? Every man an island? I think the signs are pointing to it as I said before. I think we are seeing a sharp decline in personal relationships, and it's going to become more exacerbated in the future.

But is all lost? Of course not, there is Hope.

From the collision of extremes, man and woman, sun and moon, order and chaos, comes the Child. The Otter, as literally Jung says, a version of the messianic/heroic archetype, which Sam Porter very obviously takes after. I'm certain that the fact that Sam Porter's spirit animal is the Otter and wears an "Otter Hood" was a very obvious reference to this, complete with how Sam swims like an Otter when in water. It's an allusion to its two-natured self.

The Child is the androgynous Otter, who, like Bridges between nations, lives across two Universes seamlessly, yet "neither here nor there". It's the Irrational Third, between categories, the collision of two Universes, Mother and Father, which brings the panacea through his sacrifice, brought forth by being constantly in pain, in suffering and at risk of extinction. The child is the Bridge to the future, the redemption of your bloodline and the one who brings us all together under his salvation. All heroic myths are versions of this --of very high notoriety, the story of Christ.

Now, before you start typing your insults, hear me out: it's not that I'm abiding for the Christian mythos here or that I want to become a preacher. Rather, it's that I believe that the Messianic myth is the most important artifact of our Modern Society and its very foundation. It comes from the notion of the self, which is a miracle exclusive to the Homo Sapiens Sapiens; the ability to be self-aware, to self sacrifice and think forward. The Messiah is the self inside every one of us, who selflessly and through constant sacrifices moves the World forward. Death Stranding ultimately is an ode to this, to the idea that no matter how horrible the world gets, as long as we all selflessly come together in sacrifice, we will make it in the end. By seeking not division and classification, but Unity and collaboration. Neither man or woman, sun or moon, or ying and yang, but the Syzygy of them both. Neither red or blue, but purple, and royally so

Like the Messiah with its Death and Resurrection, Sam Porter gets stuck in his Beach for an indeterminate amount of time to fullfill his mission in Death Stranding, yet manages to come back once his loving friends pull him out of the beach through a line of connection, reaching out to him and bringing him back to Earth. This is a beautiful allegory too --I urge you to reach out to the friends in your lives, and telling them that you love them. They may appreciate it more than you could EVER IMAGINE. It may be the difference between life and death for a lot of people right now.

And finally, by the way, I still stand behind the comparisons I made about Death Stranding to Chul-Han's material. Have at me bro.

#death stranding #works

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foreignergod · 5 years ago

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17 questions, 17 people tag

thank u miss sam @hsmp3 for the tag!! ily 💖💖

nicknames: meg/megs, megra, megara, and select friends call me maggie bc of an inside joke from senior year

zodiac: taurus sun, gemini moon, virgo rising

height: exactly 5’5

hogwarts house: hufflepuff babey through and through

last thing i googled: the menu for my college. i wanted to know what dinner was tonight

song stuck in my head: beautiful boy by john lennon bc of tiktok. but fucK john lennon

number of followers: like 2.4k i think???

amount of sleep: ha Ha :) i got like 7ish last night. and by ish i mean less than 7 but let’s say 7

lucky number: always been 3

dream job: uhhh. idk something in politics but like. how sexy would it be to marry rich so i could do activist work and not be broke and struggling??

wearing: my pajama jogger bottoms and the sweater i slept in

favorite song: all i want by kodaline is my all time fav

favorite instrument: piano or violin or harp

aesthetic: i don’t Have one but i strive for cottagecore/light academia

favorite author: it’s madeline miller now bc of tsoa. but also casey mcquiston for the rwrb implications. but then uncle rick riordan for the childhood nostalgia

favorite animal noises: asksksns idk maybe cats purring or bird chirps

random: i am doing this during my psych zoom lecture bc i am bored ✌️

aksnaks ok 17 people let’s see. well i tag my clowns @hs2vinyl @trianglekissy @sunflowerv6 @pinkdreamboat @goodyears @mulderharry and then @louiswlw @smileyontour @harrryween @lovelylarrie @louisprideflag @rosepetallarrie @bettysmp4 @burntbromances @loulashes @peacheslou @lovelylarrie

#tag games

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mst3kproject · 6 years ago

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Jungle Moon Men

The title of this movie is a fucking trick. There are no moon men at all, just a tribe who worship a moon goddess who will die if she goes out in the sun, like the albino Sumerians from The Mole People. Deeply disappointing. It was produced by Sam Katzman, who made an enormous number of incredibly bad movies including Teen-Age Crime Wave, and features Myron Healey from The Incredible Melting Man. There’s also quite a lot of material that is very unfortunately reminiscent of Jungle Goddess. I already know I’m going to hate this movie, but I’m watching it anyway because I have a blog.

Our Hero, Johnny Weismuller, and his buddy Kimba the Chimp are hired by adventurous archaeologist Ellen Marsten to take her deep into the jungle, or at least the Spahn Ranch, on a quest for an ancient civilization who worshipped the sun god Ra. Instead, they find a tribe of little people who are ruled by a moon goddess called Oma, the last survivor of an ancient civilization who were swallowed by the Earth after Ra became angry that they’d discovered the secret of eternal life. Nobody is allowed to leave the lost city of Baku, but Johnny and Marsten have to get out somehow, or they’ll be fed to the sacred lions. Maybe they can take some of those diamonds from the temple with them when they go.

Not only are there no moon men in this movie, there’s not even any jungle. Most of the movie was shot in the open scrubland of Corriganville, California, without even an attempt to make it look jungle-ish. The people making the movie knew this, too, because all their animal stock footage is of the savannah. I think the ‘Jungle Trading Post’ building that appears in the background of one shot is actually a zoo gift shop. I can’t entirely blame the film-makers for this, since it’s clear that their budget did not remotely extend to going anywhere jungle-ish, but they didn’t even try. They couldn’t shoot in the woods? They couldn’t even hang a couple of vines?

There are definitely no black people in this movie, except for maybe some of the stock footage when you really can’t see anybody’s face well enough to tell. All the ‘Africans’ are played by white guys who aren’t even wearing any makeup. The Aribi people, whose chief Nolimo wants revenge on Oma for the death of his son Maro, are a bunch of guys in culturally insensitive costumes which, were it not for the leopard print, could have equally well allowed them to be background ‘Indians’ in some terrible budget Western. They even talk in the same forced broken English. The Moon Men are a bunch of short people in shitty Ewok cosplay.

There’s some Egyptian-type iconography in the city of Baku. A lot of it looks like the kind of thing you’d get if you asked a bunch of sixth-graders to paint something Egyptian without looking at any references. They weren’t even talented sixth-graders. Most of the ‘hieroglyphics’ are just squiggly lines, and everything Marsten says about ancient Egypt is transparently, infuriatingly wrong. She talks about a ‘white civilization’ that flourished there long ago, and how the Egyptians had lost wisdom that would tell us why there are different races and why there are tall people and short people. I’m truly shocked she never mentioned aliens.

The actual story is surprisingly engaging at points. Jungle Moon Men is not a long movie, only sixty-five minutes including the credits, but there’s quite a bit going on in it. Aribi chief Nolimo is seeking his revenge, although he gets entirely forgotten about for most of the movie because even fake black people aren’t allowed to do anything in these movies. An unscrupulous guy named Santo wants to steal the moon men’s diamonds. Marsten keeps finding ‘archaeology’ and spouting off ‘ancient legends.’ When it actually gets going, Jungle Moon Men steams along quite nicely and makes us want to know what happens next.

Yet the movie still manages to spend an awful lot of time dallying around doing nothing. There is, for example, the whole opening sequence – first a narrating voice drones on about the Law of the Jungle over a selection of animal stock footage in an attempt to establish that, despite all evidence to the contrary, this story is set in Africa. Then we get a useless sequence in which Kimba the Chimp is fishing, and Johnny swims down to tug on his line just to tease him. Kimba’s supposedly humourous antics fill up quite a bit of the movie, and they’re almost always irrelevant except at the climax, when he sneaks in and unties everybody before the Moon Men’s pet lions can eat them. He’s also badly-dubbed, with loud chimp noises playing over scenes in which Kimba’s mouth isn’t even open.

There’s an extended funeral sequence for Maro, which does nothing at all except show us a bunch of embarrassed extras in skeletal makeup bouncing in a circle. The worst thing in the movie, however, is the part where Marsten and her friend Prentiss go hunting with bows and arrows, ultimately killing two pigs and an out-of-place puma… and I’m not entirely sure but it looks like these three animals were actually killed, just for this movie! The scene establishes that they’re good shots but that wasn’t necessary because shooting things with arrows is never important to the plot. This movie killed three animals for no reason.

The Moon Men themselves, such as they are, are at once supposed to be threatening bad guys and objects of fun. Their mastery of poisons and accuracy with their blow darts makes them sinister enough, but their costumes are absurd and other scenes show them struggling to open the door to the lion cage, or the useless bit where one of them tries to steal a jeep but cannot control it and just drives it into a ditch. Sometimes the punch line is lol, they’re short! and sometimes it’s lol, they’re stupid primitives! and either way it’s obnoxious and offensive. The only joke that works is when they sneak into the tall people’s camp disguised as shrubs, which is funny mostly because of the better movies it reminds me of.

There is kind of a theme to the movie, though – it’s about where information comes from, and what biases people bring to it. First there’s the fate of Maro. In the mind of his father he was kidnapped and murdered, while the Moon Men say he was chosen by the goddess herself for the great honour of being Oma’s high priest, and had to be punished for his senseless betrayal. Marsten and Prentiss are friends but tell very different stories about how romantic that friendship might be. When Oma catches Santo and Johnny fighting, with stolen diamonds all around them, each blames the other until she gets tired of the whole thing and throws them both to the lions. Oma tells her guests that the Moon Men love her and serve her willingly, but after her death they celebrate because they are no longer slaves.

Oma herself is a pretty blonde woman, much like Greta from Jungle Goddess, but she really is some kind of immortal being who holds herself up as a goddess, rather than being a lost heiress whom the natives just assume was divine because she was paler than them. I guess that’s better… maybe… the movie still holds whiteness up as being nearer to godliness. She’s also fully dressed, though her white gown looks nothing like the Ewok costumes the Moon Men wear, and is never treated as a sex object. There is no implication that her high priest is expected to sleep with her, and neither Prentiss nor Johnny fall in love with her, or she with them. That’s definitely an improvement. There is, furthermore, one really nice moment when she demonstrates that she’s way more afraid of the sunshine than she is of the lions – the latter are just cats, while the former is the incarnation of a god who has sworn to punish her.

Ellen Marsten is never a sex object, either. She spends the whole movie fully clothed and is never in any peril that the men aren’t in with her. Everything she says is stupid but within the world of the film she’s clearly supposed to be an expert in her field. Prentiss is in love with her but respects her enough to remain friends despite the fact that she doesn’t return his feelings, and at the end of the movie Marsten herself is not ‘with’ either him or Johnny. She is a character, not a love interest, so that’s refreshing, too.

None of that’s enough to save the movie, though. It’s a cheap, shoddy, racist train wreck with a side of animal cruelty. It’s also a ripoff, having stolen a lot of its major plot points from H. Rider Haggard’s She. I could talk about that in more detail, but I haven’t actually read She, only seen other movies based on it, and I honestly don’t care. I don’t hate Jungle Moon Men as much as I did Jungle Goddess or Black Dragons, but it’s pretty damned bad.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #jungle moon men #boy are we in africa!#50s

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