#most stylish most tortured {self}

[lulu2992]

From the Inquisitor to the Baptist: The Evolution of John Seed

So who was John Seed, the Inquisitor? And most importantly, who is John Seed, the Baptist?

All the sources and references indicated by the superscript numbers will be given in the last post.

Part 5: Conclusion

It took more than three years to develop Far Cry 5. A lot can change in three years, and as a matter of fact, when it comes to John Seed, a lot did change.

In terms of his appearance, it seems the idea has always been for him to look stylish. He’s always had a dark beard and slicked-back hair, and although its color has varied, a shirt. Then came his vest, sunglasses, watch, coat, earring, belt, and key, and his outfit steadily evolved to become the one we know today. Many tattoos, for the most part inspired by the seven deadly sins or religion in general, gradually appeared on his hands and arms as well.

Before he became “the Baptist”, his title used to be “the Inquisitor”, and although this term is nowhere to be found in Far Cry 5 (or even in its files, from what I’ve seen), John’s Gate was renamed “The Inquisitor’s Grave” in Far Cry New Dawn. Indeed, canonically, his bunker is his “grave” because John either lost his life right outside of it or trying to reach it.

But in my opinion, the Inquisitor didn’t die in Far Cry 5; he was already long dead when the game came out, and the most important and meaningful changes John underwent during development were not of a physical nature.

In terms of his personality and morals, he’s always been a violent man, and while he still brutalizes people in Far Cry 5, evidence suggests he went from a threatening, conceited, hypocritical, and primarily sadistic individual to a more polite-looking, subtle, emotional, and tortured person whose ego is clearly not a big and strong as it seems, or as he wants others to believe.

When he was still called the Inquisitor, John seemed self-assured and to always have everything under control, like nothing could affect him or his (high) opinion of himself, and other people’s feelings didn’t matter. Now, as the Baptist, this air of confidence is more of a facade; he’s emotionally immature, tends to easily lose his temper when things don’t go his way, and his sense of self-worth greatly depends on what he believes his brother Joseph’s opinion of him is.

The Inquisitor looked like an insensitive, somewhat stereotypical torturer (and killer) who, although he seemed to have faith in the Project, would often use it as an excuse to cause harm and satisfy his dark urges. He was cruel and selfish, would never accept responsibility for his actions, and was mainly driven by his desire to inflict pain. The Baptist still hurts and mutilates others, and he may still take satisfaction in what he does, but what apparently counts more for him now is the result. He’s convinced himself that his childhood trauma was in fact a positive and freeing experience and that it could benefit other people, so in his own indisputably unhealthy and harmful way, he tries to “save” them.

The Inquisitor would indulge in his luxurious ranch, think some rules didn’t apply to him, and mostly care about himself and his own pleasure. The Baptist is a perfectionist who doesn’t hesitate to put his comfort aside to achieve his goals, refuses to put himself “on a pedestal”, and can work tirelessly to make his brother proud; this is what drives and obsesses him.

At first glance, it may look like John is still the Inquisitor, and I think it’s interesting that most of the things that can help us see him in a different light (Joseph’s eulogy for him⁵⁵, the message at Seed Ranch⁵⁶, the letter to Terry⁵¹, Hudson’s line⁴⁴) are usually found after his death. In his final moments, John looks heartbroken that the Junior Deputy could never “understand”, “believe” in, and “care” about what he thought he was doing all along: saving people... and that included the two of them. His last words? A prayer for their soul.

It’s only when he’s gone that we’re able to comprehend who John Seed truly was, to see the person behind his carefully crafted image of a self-assured, self-controlled, and strong man. Only when it’s too late can we fully realize that, under the surface and behind the violence, was a deeply flawed individual but also a beautifully complex character, full of contradictions, who knew he wasn’t perfect and spent most of his life trying to meet others’ expectations, or at least what he believed those were, but usually ended up causing much suffering to many people in the process, including himself.

The Inquisitor essentially was a monster without a heart; the Baptist is just a human who never managed to fully open his.

Thank you for reading ♥ Find all sources and references in Part 6!

[moonfromearth]

200 Followers Celebratory CC Free Sim Dump!!

It's honestly so amazing to me that somehow I made it to 200 followers! You're all so sweet and I appreciate everyone that's taken the time to interact with my posts and I promise I have new stuff in the works that'll be released soon 😉

So, I did this poll to see what everyone would want and it was so fun to hear from so many people thank you everyone who voted! Sim dump was the clear winner!!

Anyway, included are eight cc free young adult sims! They all have set skills and careers because I think it's fun but you can do whatever you want with them as long as you don't change skintones (bonus information about each below the cut as a "guide" because I like coming up with their characters)! I also had too much fun picking out likes and dislikes so... There are a lot 😬

P.S. If in the library it shows up as having cc I swear there isn't any I don't know why my game likes to mark it as having cc even when there isn't I'm sorry for any confusion.

Feel free to tag me if you ever use them and I hope you enjoy!! 😁😁

Download Link [Google Drive]

[Sim info below cut!!]

Parker Daley - Friend of the World, Erratic, Creative, Vegetarian - Bubbly and eccentric Parker is the life of any party! A fashion designer who loves anything "stylish" (which is just anything she likes, pretty much). Parker is completely unpredictable which makes her an interesting companion. A city girl all the way.

Lilah Dumas - Computer Whiz, Cheerful, Geek, Lazy Lilah is a very "you only live once" kind of person. She doesn't spend too much time dwelling on just about anything, and will drop whatever doesn't bring her joy in a heartbeat. As such she was determined to make one of her hobbies into a career, and amassed a decent following for herself as a streamer.

Raj Pandey - Fabulously Wealthy, Perfectionist, Mean, Self-Assured Raj grew up always knowing he'd join the family business, and the atmosphere of wealth and status, as well as the most expensive education obtainable, has turned him into a stuck up character. He appreciates a well crafted insult. In fact, he's not averse to the occasional argument debate (as long as he wins). Despite these traits he's managed to get himself adopted into a group of friends who, though often annoy him, have become an important part of his life.

Sonny Oswald - Friend of the Animals, Socially Awkward, Animal Enthusiast, Neat Sonny is a sweetheart and I love him. Awkward and shy, he's more comfortable around farm animals and plants than he is around people. Only is closest friends get to see how kind and fun he can be. One day he'll move out to the countryside and start is own farm, but for now he's working his way through the gardening career (baby steps, right?).

Lucas Esparza - Nerd Brain, Noncommittal, Bookworm, Adventurous Lucas's two goals in life are to gain infinite amounts of knowledge for himself and leave a trail of broken hearts as he travels the world to get said knowledge. That makes it sound like he's a horrible person which is because... Well he is, but who doesn't need a villain in their game? I'm sure he has his good qualities, however, I honestly love him for being the absolute handful he is.

Keira McDaniel - Painter Extraordinaire, Gloomy, Maker, Music Lover A bit of a "tortured artist" character who enjoys spending hours painting/crafting in her studio with music playing constantly, blocking out the rest of the world. Keira is very sensitive, and feels the emotional weight of everything around her very intensely, channeling it into her art.

Joslyn Lancaster - Country Caretaker, Loves the Outdoors, Athletic, Glutton Joslyn is a very meat and potatoes kind of gal. She lives for the simple things in life, working the ranch, riding horses, and a good meal. It's never occurred to her that there might be more to life, and the world, outside of the ranch, because what more could she need?

Gabrielle "Gabby" Moran - Leader of the Pack, Insider, Snob, Cat Lover Gabby is a fine and polished young woman, growing up in a life of luxury, and the champion English rider in town. She's very aware that she is the best at something, and it's boosted her confidence (*cough* ego) to astronomic levels. Quite the gossip, she loves to be out with friends, gossiping about the latest scandal, but when not there she's tending to her horse and preparing for her next competition. Despite the facade of the popular mean girl she puts up, Gabby cares very deeply about horses and her career, and takes it very seriously. She also loves spending time with the barn cats when they're around.

[please-be-mine-forever]

Distant Memory (Dark Shadowpeach) (Part 1)

Part 2:

Prompt: Macaque, finds a simple yet efficient way to keep Monkie King, in place.

TW: Lying, Imprisonment, Implied Abuse and Mentions of Torture, Struggling, Possessive Behavior, Kidnapping, and Toxic Unhealthy Mindset.

A/N: Admittedly speaking, I've rewritten this numerous times but I'm not satisfied with it—I just hope that it's understandable tho.

The scene for this story is a very old draft from my archived notes and thought I'd use it for this request & revise it, or try to. I just enjoy, recycling old and abandoned ideas. Like, taking them and using them for certain aspects of my stories.

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The tall and unkempt grass tickled the King's legs which caused him to giggle cheerfully, The breeze, wafting with the scent of peaches, brushed against his skin, and patches of light brown fur.

A soft smile appeared on his face, when he heard small monkeys, following his trail, then proceeded to roll around the tall grass and attempted to catch the sage's attention, by making high-pitched noises or, offered his favorite pink coloured fruit.

He chuckled in amusement and took one bite, the sweet taste overfilling his tastebuds, making him more energized and got encouraged to dash across the meadows, jumping through rocks and Landing on boulders, to avoid the mud getting to his feet. The others, soon, followed him closely.

Wukong, was having the time of their life and enjoyed the sense of peacefulness that this mountain gave off. They never felt lonely, with his companions, and people, from afar worshipped him. The city even made numerous adaptations about him, that he'd binge-watch all those cheesy movies and series with his successor, every night, or when MK, had time too.

Near the waterfalls, The chestnut-hued monkey stopped in his tracks for a moment and glanced on top, to stare at the blue sky, the clouds rolling by forming shapes, into abstract blobs. It was a beautiful scenery that most people took granted, and he was no exception, but times like this, He tried to remind himself that 'little things should be valued' or, tried to follow it, the best he can.

When thinking about his previous self morals, The Self-Proclaimed Sage chuckled, but not like his usual vibrant and arrogant one, This one was more vain and just, plain bitter. The Immortal being, cursed himself greatly for hours on end for falling for the, most gullible tricks and opened his dried-up, eyes.

Almost losing that spark in his golden pupils.

Wukong slumped down, and uncomfortably leaned against the cold and grey concrete walls, as what he saw, was just a distant memory but honestly speaking., The once great king contemplated, whether it was a memory or just a dream, either way, It was the only thing that kept him going....To see the outside once more and run around the meadow before the unfortunate happens.

It didn't matter how much time passed, The determination and hope, in his eye, refused to leave him. Monkie King, trusted his prodigy enough that he'll come and rescue him from this dark realm.

There, was a lingering fear that he'd become a forgotten memory or someone that never existed in the first place, but couldn't voice out his thoughts about that internal to avoid getting heard by someone with six ears.

"Just a little longer" The, Former Great Sage's stylish blonde fur, was now disheveled and unkempt, multiple strands of it were sticking out due to the lack of grooming. "Kiddo, will come and save me"

No sound was heard, not even a droplet of water leaking, only his mumble about hope  The cellar was dark and secluded. The only light source his captor was kind enough to give was a wax candle that would lit up, whenever a certain someone might appear.

Speak of the devil, A six eared Monkey phased through the dark apparition, as if he was part of them and was just a ghastky figure with no solid body, The wax candle, lighting up and illuminated his more prominent feature.

"Did ya miss me, bud?" At every visit, Wukong wished it was his successor, MK, that actually came to rescue him instead of this sick bastard.

"Like, Hell I would" His captor, had a cocky smirk as usual, and  brought him a tray of food, specifically peaches but overtime, as the fruit was associated with the dark-furred monkey, The once great sage, began to loath it deeply.  "Just hearing you talk, gives me a headache"

The immortal being, wouldn't starve to death if he went on years, without having a crumb to eat but honestly, death was much better than having to see that coy smirk that bastard always had but knew he couldn't just give up on life even if he wanted to, He had to live, to see, to relive his old memories.

"Fiesty as usual. I, honestly prefer your more defenseless and unresponsive state."

There, were chains to keep the Monkey Demon captive and made sure to immobilize him, but to mostly make sure that he wouldn't beat Macaque to a pulp.

Of course, Simple chains, wouldn't lock this heaven wrecker down, for too long.

The problem, was the crown, painfully screwed on his head, It was a similar replica, to the artifact he wore when on a trip, with a monk. This one wasn't so painful as the original one but unfortunately, was enough to immobilize him for a short period of time.

The replica, was clamped tightly on his head, and would try to shrink by force, making it tighter by every passing minute, the bolts trying to pierce into his skull until a migraine formed.

What added pain to the bruise, was the mechanical crown, itself, was attached to a small device that sent lighting all over his body.

The shock, overpowered him, the excruciating pain, flowing all over his body, making it worse. It, was that single feature, which made it feel eerily similar to the original one, causing a surge of repressed memories to plague his mind. The represed memories, being his old companions.

It, was during those shock punishment, that made him remember them again, and this time. He, actually refused to repress the memories any longer and would, always remember them, not wanting his old crew to become a distant memory.

It was, some sort of coping mechanism, to help him deal with this .

But, that single second of invulnerability was enough for this bastard to seal him, and drag him away to the shawdows.

"Just screw off, Macaque. You're lucky that Red Boy even helped your sorry ass. If he haven't than you'd still be watching me like a creepy stalker"

Macaque paused for a moment, not saying a single word yet at that petty remark. Their steps were slow and it gave off a sophisticated vibe, per usual but they both knew it was all for show.

Just for the public eye, and to decieve others, wanting to represent himself as a misunderstood monkey, that was hurt.

But behind the closed doors, Macaque revealed his true colours behind, He was a cruel & heartless being. They, crouched down at Wukong's level and

kneeled down on one knee, tracing the long chain that wrapped around his 'beloveds' neck, with his tan-skinned fingers.

He, abruptly tugged on the neck chain which forced Monkie King to jerk forward, making him closer to Macaque's lips while he whispered in a low voice that was dripping with venom but was coated with sugar that can make anyone's teeth fall out. "Y'know, Maybe, You should stop those useless mumbling. MK, won't and will never save you" 

"And, You should know..This isn't love" Wukong croaked, feeling his throat dry since he hasn't drank water, knowing the liquid was drugged with chemicals or whatever potions.

"Love is just a selfish desire to have someone"

Oh how naive they were to trust this monster and Wukong sighed defeatedly, feeling frustrated, since he was one of the many people that fell to Macaque's charm, that single ounce of pity led to his demise as in this secluded room, The six-eared demon, was just a boy who cried wolf.

The dark-furred monkey kept on taunting him, knowing what type of strings to pull on his hostage.  "If his, Oh so great mentor can't even rescue himself, then what can a kid do? "

" That kid—is better than me."

The closeness, made Wukong feel his warmth, but it made him feel disgusted but the feeling wasn't mutual for the other male.

"Well, I'm better than both of you combined" Macaque, spoke with such ease as if capturing a male and taking their free will was normal.

"I doubt that. Just wait till MK comes here, and kicks your ass, and we'll never have to see each other again" The anthropomorphic monkey, sent another petty remark, but what triggered his captor was the sentence

"Never, see each other again"

This time, There was a long pause.

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[chthonic-cassandra]

Recent books, fiction -

Shola von Reinhold, LOTE - essentially a black queer modernist Possession; I enjoyed it quite a lot. Mathilda, an erstwhile archivist and self-described "Arcadian" devotee of stylish queer figures from the early twentieth century follows the trail of a forgotten black woman modernist writer. I loved Mathilda as a narrator, her unapologetically sensuous engagement with the figures she studies and her embrace of pleasure and style and decadence as sites of both joy and resistance. Like Possession, this includes some razor-sharp and very funny parody of contemporary academic and artistic circles, this time directed mostly towards nihilistic post-modernists; von Reinhold's gaze is very clear on the actual costs of this kind of fantasized negation of the self. I found myself wanting a little more out of the ending in some ways, but over all I loved and definitely recommend this.

Rahul Mehta, Quarantine - [despite our current associations with the title, this book came out in 2011 and is not related to plague or pandemics at all] collection of short stories largely about young gay Indian-American men struggling with various types of feelings of disconnection. Elegantly written and engaging, but sometimes overly detached and repetitive. I would read more by this author.

Rainbow Rowell, Carry On - I think I read this because Jo Walton recommended it on Tor and I hadn't read anything by this author? Anyway, I shouldn't have. The novel is a tepid Harry Potter parody that ends up amounting to bad Harry/Draco fic in which Draco is a vampire. It was stupid and badly written, and I don't care nearly enough about Harry Potter from any angle to be interested. Not recommended, and I will not be trying anything else by this author.

Darry Gregory, We Are All Completely Fine - this is now the third book I have read which takes as its premise survivors of horror movie scenarios coming together in some way (the others were Riley Sager's Final Girls, which I didn't like much, and Grady Hendrix' The Final Girl Support Group, which I had a lot of fun with). I found this one quite moving, though limited by being a novella - there were a lot of problems, especially with the denouement, that I think could have been easily solved in a longer book. Gregory's wife is a therapist (he thanks her in the acknowledgements), and so the therapy group in which all the characters meet is written a lot more believably than most group therapy in fiction (though I would make some different choices than the facilitator!). I was quite moved by the thread throughout many of the characters' stories about their own ambiguous relationship to their various victimizations, the parts of the experiences they long for or miss, the unresolved questions about meaning-making. Some of the characters came off as more full people than others, which I put down to limited space; likewise, there's a (heavily foreshadowed) reveal at the end about the identity of the therapist which I thought could have worked but as it was felt rushed, particularly given the attention to therapeutic ethics earlier in the book. Recommended, though not for everyone.

Richard Wright, The Man Who Lived Underground - posthumously published novella expanding on a previously published short story of Wright's, which I have not read. A black man in Chicago is tortured while under arrest for a crime he did not commit; he subsequently flees into the city sewers, where he undergoes an existential shift in the experience of being proximate to but apart from human society. This was beautifully, vividly written; the sections describing our protagonist's solo journey through the sewers and the way he makes sense of what he hears and witnesses from the lives of the people around him will stay with me a long time. The novella is published with an autobiographical essay from Wright about his grandmother's religiosity, which inspired him to write the book; this essay was interesting in itself, but I felt that the novella stood well without it.

Emily Carroll, Through the Woods - collection of graphic gothic horror short stories (graphic like graphic novel, not graphic like explicit - unwieldy turn-of-phrase). Carroll's art is gorgeous, and I enjoyed it a lot despite graphic fiction not working well for me. The stories themselves are slight and often could use more development and explication, but I am still glad I read this. Very good to read on a rainy autumnal day with some tea, which is what I did.

Gaile Parkin, Baking Cakes in Kigali - Angel, a middle-aged Tanzanian cake baker now living and working in Kigali, Rwanda, runs her business while trying to be a decent person and support those in the community around her. This was a beautifully gentle, optimistic novel that held a lot of space for the complexity of Angel's social world and treats the moral choices she has to make her day-to-day life as worthy of serious consideration (her musings about under what circumstances she would take a moral stand of refusing to serve a customer was a good example). At some points throughout the book I was worried it would land too shallowly on serious topics, but it came through and won me over. And I loved hearing about how Angel sold her cakes.

Caroline McKenzie, A Year of Ugly - a family of undocumented Venezuelan immigrants living in Trinidad deal with a madcap series of adventures with blackmailers while a romance plot line happens in the foreground. I didn't like this; its humor felt cruel to me, and the tone in sections about sex work or the female characters' sexuality felt very sour. McKenzie has an author's note about she was trying to write about serious experiences of her community in a more light-hearted way, but the contrast with Baking Cakes in Kigali, which ostensibly had the same aim but handled it with gentleness and humanity, was stark. Not recommended.

V. C. Andrews, Flowers in the Attic - yes, I'd never read it before! It was at the library, and I thought it was finally time. It's a fascinating book - the use of detail which at once feels fetishistic while also reminding me of older children's novels (compare the Dollanganger children cleaning up the attic with the protagonists of The Boxcar Children in their titular makeshift home); the contained extremity of the gothic melodrama; the fantasmatic alternation of confinement and expansiveness in the use of space. I wouldn't say it's good, exactly, but I'm glad I read it. Probably won't read the sequels, but will be thinking about it for a long time.

[fantasyideas1]

Aphorisms In the world of liars, it is hope that deceives most of all, the screaming violins of groaning souls, going into the depths of the unknown, the stellar realm of wisdom, in every star the secret of life, stars move among the blind, in the dungeon of the body where they torture with expectations and desires, the soul without will yearns for peace, desires and hopes seem like an insult, falling asleep in the throes of hopes, we wake up different, absorbing the philosophy of dreams, the suicidal economy of the kleptocracy of blat, the programming code of measurement, the code of behavior, the DNA system as shrinking time, evolutionary chrono transformations that create mutations of living beings and measurements, the code of an alternative reality is not stable due to self-deception, the subconscious microchip obeys a certain system that creates protection from a truer reality, access to it cannot be obtained by anyone for their ego, Architectural paradox, the dimension in which we live, erasing the emptiness, leaving the dimension of lies, lies for value, lies like fast food, simulated orgasm of happiness in optimism, with sincerity is drowning in the soul, people are weakening from selfishness, storyboarding of fragments of the soul in every second, unpacking the layers of the truth of the soul, a metaphorical looking glass in which the reflection of the truth is encrypted in paradoxes, a deep renunciation of the true personality, wandering in the infinity of the imagination, we create an alternative reality because true reality is not accepted due to laziness, ego, boredom, painting false temptations, at the bottom of nothingness, people are robots for whom everything is a formality program, stylish design of self-deception trends, We disappear into nonsense, cremation of the meaning of life, trolling as frotherism, we are mechanisms of emptiness who want to know eternity, the immortal is dead in this dimension, the ghost that watches as falsehood becomes arrogance and banality, we are dead because we are just tools, endless depths of prostitution of selfish materialists, a faceless world of despair, life is an alternative training projection how to live without sins, a cemetery this is a library of memories life lessons given to those who are still alive, a library of life experiences, an electronic screen of memories above the grave, information and biography, a hologram copying a person, the consciousness of a rational hologram that gives the illusion that this person is still with us, a ghost hologram with which you can communicate , Asymmetry of logic, timeless consciousness of truth, truth is separated from living people, architectural perception of the world as a temporary mood, wandering in search of perfection, amnesia brain dry cleaning, inevitability puppets, artificial intelligence of media space connected to all kinds of subconsciousness, death fertilizes the earth, layers of selfishness create soil of death

Author: Musin Almat Zhumabekovich

[mosttortured-blog]

   som tags,,,

[seeance]

Picrewme

Tagged by @writingxthexsilence​

Tagging: anyone who wants to do this

[astrazelda]

Five free charts were given out!

#2. The Sagittarius 🏹♐with Aquarius ♒ Ascendant

The Sun is in Sagittarius- this is the way you are when you are most comfortable, or how you would LIKE to appear to others. Where your ascendant lies is how you are perceived by others.

The shape of your chart confirms that the theme of your life and lessons that are to be learned have to do with taking control over your own destiny; not anyone else. This also involves conscious activities rather than those of the subconscious. An example would be rather than your purpose involving becoming spiritually enlightened or finding the cure to cancer, your purpose is tangible to the physical.

Ascendant Aquarius likes to be seen as doing things differently. you like to dress eccentrically as an expression of your individuality. friends are important to you. your eyes appear Sharp and intelligent. you are attracted to stylish types.

The ruler of Aquarius is the planet Uranus, so looking at where the planet is in your chart we see it where it is most powerful; Aquarius.

Although your sun sign is Sagittarius, the fact that Uranus is in your first house gives you the traits of an Aquarius. Combined with your ascendant being an Aquarius you are a true ocean resident. The common Aquarian is good and kindly, but usually led astray by eccentric and bizarre companions.

Your tastes are refined and your discrimination keen. You have a natural inclination toward the esoteric and mystical side of life and you could develop some clairvoyant abilities. Basically you are a lover of freedom; in the realization of this desire you may go to extremes.

Although changeable in appearance, your life is guided by very definite and fixed principles, one of which is a constant demand for personal freedom. In love you are a strange character. You can easily be emotionally attracted to one person and yet unpredictably terminate relationships.

Your Venus is square your ascendant. Stubborn, ambitious, hard-working and doesn’t like to lose ‘stability’. Youre there for others, but don’t let others be there for you. Loyal and protective of the vulnerable,

But the lesson here is to let others help them, or grow into learning other ways of self-love. It is common for people with this aspect to subconsciously torture themselves when they don't have to.

Venus was found in the ninth house at the time of birth. Your mind appears as very adaptable, gentle, peace-loving and tactful. This position indicates that the secret for your ability to reach a state of harmony and emotional balance may come through the use of your higher mental powers. You have been born with an exquisitely refined, artistic mind which has a very subtle appreciation of all that has to do with culture. Your disposition is kind, congenial, gentle and sympathetic and you have a natural ability to assist other individuals.

This position gives you much social intercourse with intellectual persons and success derived therefrom.

Merely minor disabilities will affect you in your intellectual endeavors. The worst that could happen would be an overly inquisitive, indecisive nature that never seems to be satisfied. However, you have within you the ability to avoid these psychological obstacles.

Mars conjunct the Ascendant makes for loads of energy an You are constantly in motion, but sometimes it is motion without meaning. Lacking self-discipline, you take daring and unnecessary risks when challenged. You want most of all for people to recognize your superiority.

Publicly you appear as a vital, proud, powerful person. Your individuality has the need to manifest itself publicly and often to foist its energy on others. You have come to life with a satisfactory physical and moral heredity and you are going to acquire the favorable disposition of many persons of power to assist you in your ascent through life.

[missymurphy1985]

Nobody's Perfect (part10)

Warnings - mentions of baby loss / smut

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers

The following days of filming were tense to say the least. Helen had tried talking to Cillian but refused. He also refused to come back to your room, having booked himself his own in a different hotel. You'd tried talking to him onset but he kept his distance from you as much as possible, having arranged with Steve to push back his scenes with you until a later date. Steve hadn't asked questions, fortunately.

You had the weekend off, and had planned for the two of you to spend it with your sister and her husband in Liverpool. As you were packing your bag on the Friday afternoon, you heard your hotel door open. Turning round, you saw Cillian, bag over his shoulder.

"Hey..." You almost whispered, choking up at the sight of him. He looked like he hadn't slept for days.

"Hey. Listen - " you stopped him.

"No, you listen. I never should have said those things Cillian.. I never should have shouted at you. I never should have shut you out.. I just didn't know what to say! All the hurt, and pain.. just bottled up inside me and I couldn't keep it in any longer.. being Clara again, knowing she was having a baby, it broke my heart... I'm sorry.. I'm so fucking sorry..." He put his bag on the floor and took you in his arms, holding you as you cried for the first time in front of him. You could feel his body shake as he cried too. Months of pain and anguish came crashing out of you both as you sunk to the floor together. He hadn't realised he'd left the door open, and Helen rushed in to you in a panic, finding you kneeling on the floor together in pieces and wrapped her arms round you both, shutting the door so as not to alert anyone else. You both fell into her, as she calmed you both and stood you up.

"Now listen to me, both of you. No one deserves what you're going through, no one.. but I can't watch you both destroy yourselves over it any longer. What are your plans this weekend?" You wiped your eyes and told her you were going to your sisters for the weekend.

"Well you better let me call her, because you're not going." You both looked at her, confused. "Here's my keys. This is my and Damien's holiday home in the Lake District. Completely private, no neighbours for miles. It's yours for the weekend. Fully kitted out, groceries already bought. The girls and I have it all taken care of."

"But my sister - "

"Will understand when I call her and explain what's happening. We have every weekend off now, you can go to your sisters next weekend?" You looked at Cillian and he smiled.

"Maybe it's not such a bad idea y/n?"

"Your sister's the one I met at the premiere, right? Tall, blond, drinks like a fish?" You laughed, remembering how well Helen and your sister had got on that night doing tequila slammers and dancing like maniacs to the Macarena. "It's only about an hour away from here. If you leave now, you'll be there in time to watch the sun set over the hills. Turn your phone's off, and reconnect. Talk. And change the sheets before you leave." She smirked, before Cillian pulled her close for a hug.

"Love you Helen. You always know what to do..."

"Aunt Pol knows everything. Give me your sisters number y/n and get out of here!"

Hand in hand, you walked into the cottage and instantly blown away. It was simply beautiful. Rustic yet elegant, olde worlde yet stylish.. it screamed Helen McCrory and you both loved it. Setting your bags in the living room, Cillian made his way over to the record player in the corner and chose a record he knew you loved. Putting it on, he held out his hand. You giggled, taking it, as he pulled you close, swaying with you to the music. No words exchanged, they weren't needed.

As the song drew to a close, he lifted your chin up and leaned in, his lips meeting yours for the first time in nearly a week. Your arms pulled him closer, as your tongues met, and he slowly pushed you over to the sofa. You pulled his jacket off his shoulders before he lifted your t-shirt over your head, puling back to admire you. Reaching behind you, unclasping your bra with one hand, his eyes and hands roamed slowly over your chest and shoulders like it was the first time he'd ever seen or felt them.

He slowly unbuttoned your jeans, letting them fall to the floor along with your underwear. As you stood completely bare in front of him, you felt slightly self-conscious, and covered yourself a little.

"Don't. Let me look at you. You're beautiful, don't you know that?"

"I haven't felt it for a while."

"And that's my fault. Let me make you feel beautiful?" You nodded as he guided you to the bedroom down the hall. Walking in, you both saw rose petals over the fresh bedsheets, as well as a bottle of champagne on ice with two glasses.

"They went all out didn't they?" You smiled as he lay you down onto the bed. His lips carefully caressed over your neck, down your collarbone and over your breasts as you arched your back at his touch, sending tingles down your spine.

He kissed over your belly, down to your hips, and parted your legs slowly. He blew softly against your core, making you shudder, as his tongue lapped from the bottom up to your clit, circling it gently. You were panting now, desperate for release. His fingers brushed over your thighs and into your groin, before easing two fingers inside you, sliding in effortlessly as if they were made for this purpose alone. His mouth was torture on you, you could feel your orgasm building.

"Please... Cillian..." You begged, raising your hips to meet his tongue. He responded perfectly - upping the pressure and speed of his tongue as he drove you over the edge, you came crying his name. With one more gentle kiss to your clit, he stood up, once again admiring you silently. You sat up and pulled at the zipper on his jeans. Pulling them down with his boxer shorts and taking his hard cock in your hand. Giving it a few gentle pumps, watching his mouth fall open slightly, you smirked as your mouth took him in, he gasped when he felt the back of your throat. Licking up the shaft and over the head, you swallowed him down again, his hand on the back of your head, pulling the pony tail out so he could grip your hair. You groaned into his cock, feeling it twitch in your mouth as he pulled your hair, you could hear him groaning above you, spurring you on.

"Y/n.. I'm gonna come..." You bobbed your mouth faster, and felt him cum deep down your throat, swallowing every drop down.

"Fuck woman... Your mouth is incredible..." He pushed you back onto the bed and lined himself up against you.

For a man over 40, he had the libido of a 25 year old around you, it wasn't long until he was ready to go again.

Pushing you back, he lined himself up against your entrance and pushed in slowly, savouring each second feeling you clench your muscles around him.

"Missed this.." you gasped as he bottomed out, and he kissed you again, moving his hips back and forth easily. A steady rhythm, his forehead against yours as you breathed heavily against each other, looking into each others eyes. Your legs wrapped around his body as high as you could get them, he hooked one of your knees up with his elbow and thrust a little harder, sending you spiralling again. A few more strokes and you came together, you held him tight against you until he'd softened completely, not wanting to let him go.

You'd talked most of the night about everything, in-between more love-making and drawing pleasurable moans from each other, before falling asleep finally around 2am. The following morning, you were making him breakfast in the large kitchen area when he came through wearing his boxer shorts and stood watching you from the doorway.

"You know, I was gonna head to Ireland last night before Helen came in," he confessed.

"I know. I saw the plane ticket on our online banking app. I thought you were leaving me..."

"No, I just needed space. But now I know it isn't space I need, it's you. Only you. I'm sorry I've put you through this y/n..." You turned the hob down and made your way over to him, linking your body against his.

"You know I've never once blamed you, for any of this? I thought we were a team?"

"We are, but you're not the one who's infertile y/n."

"WE are going through this - not ME. We. We have one more round of IVF to go, and if that doesn't work then we'll work it out - okay?"

"I'm worried you'll end up leaving me.."

"Shut up Murphy for the love of God!" You laughed slapping his chest. "Nothing would make me leave you, okay? I could have 100 babies with anyone, but I want one with YOU, and only you. No more talk of leaving, deal?" You booped your nose against his and grinned.

"Deal."

[acklesterritory]

That Kind of Love Never Dies_Chapter 1

Hey guys, Now that more voted to split my fictions in 2 parts, I'm back with the first part. I hope you like it. Don't forget to leave me feedbacks. I'll always appreciate them. Love you all.

This is for writing event @tvdspngirl314

My quote is "That kind of love never dies"

Dean x Reader series (just 2 parts)

This chapter words: ~5k

Series warning:

Angst, fluf, smut, angry Dean, hurt Reader, hurt Dean, there's some more but I hate spoilers so I insist on "Angst & Hurt"

It all started with a stupid argument at home. What was it? Three months ago? Sam couldn't remember the exact date but after years, it was the first time this awkward coldness between Dean and Y/n had started to build. He could remember the first time he and his brother came across Y/n like it was yesterday, they were hunting a very nasty creature who used to kidnap young and lonely women at night, then got them wrapped in ropes and ties on a bed in a warehouse to rape, torture and feed on their blood until the victim either died or accepted to turn into one of his kind.

Sam could remember the helplessness in people's eyes too. The pain of the victims' families, the frustration and anger on cops' faces when no one could find the criminal yet, even after the sixth missing girl.

"Sammy, he just kidnapped another girl. And I think I know where he's gonna take her. Let's hunt this son of a bitch."

When Dean was saying that, Sam never expected him to fall in love with the woman they would save that night. Well, unfortunately they weren't fast enough to prevent any harm to the girl. When they arrived and Dean killed the nasty creature, Y/n was almost dead. The monster had already raped her, tortured her … and when he felt the hunters enter the place, he drank almost all of her blood, to gain more energy to fight. So as always, Dean was up to blaming himself. Of course only in his own eyes, not anyone else's.

"Call Cas to come home. Tell him it's an emergency."

Dean told his brother when he finally could get Y/n out of those ropes. And Sam knew he was right. At that point, no one could save Y/n unless God or his angels. Maybe she was not so lucky coming across a nasty supernatural creature like that but she was lucky enough that Cas arrived just on time and healed her. However, angels can only heal physical wounds. But Y/n was hurt much more than that. She couldn't just move on from the things that the bastard had put her through. Even after Cas tricked her brain to forget some certain things, she still had bad nightmares and had this dark shade of hopelessness in her eyes. Soon, she started to eat and talk less and less. And Dean just couldn't let her go. He really wanted to fix all of that for her but she kept shutting him out… until the depression hit her. It was so bad that Cas felt the need to tell them to prepare themselves for her death. Because after all those days and unlike everything else in their lives, The Winchesters were already used to her presence around them; like the way a lonely person can get used to a wounded cat more and faster than anyone else.

"I'm not gonna hunt until I'm sure she can live her normal life." When Dean stated that, Sam really thought he was joking. But after a few days he started to believe it. Dean truly would do anything to keep her alive. From cooking vegetables to laughing at his own dad jokes in front of Y/n to make her smile. That was when Sam started to feel that they can be more than a random hunter/rescued victim relationship! It felt like his brother had finally found his motivation in life: "Saving Y/n."

Gradually Y/n started to respond to this special attention from Dean with trust and smiles. Soon they became a power couple that could motivate each other so easily that sometimes Charlie would call them out. And honestly Sam had no problem with it. In fact Y/n had become his other sister.

"My God, Dean! You're burning up!" It was two day after a werewolf hunt in which Dean had got hurt. At first it was just some scratches on his arms and chest. Yet as the time passed, more symptoms started to appear: headache, pain, fever, cold sweat, even nose bleeding and before they could figure it out, Dean fell unconscious. Apparently the claws of the werewolf were poisonous. However Sam wasn't sure. The only thing he got no doubts about was the fact that it was already too late. Dean couldn't make it to the hospital. So either Sam had to do anything possible to save him or Cas should've picked up his God damn phone.

"No. no, no, no, no. Dean … Dean!!!"

That was when Sam got to hear Y/n's helpless cry and see her true feelings. She was already in love with his brother.

Luckily, unlike typical love stories; no one died that night. Sam's antidote worked. And Dean opened his eyes an hour later.

"Sammy … Y/n?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Y/n grabbed his face and put her thirsty lips on her beloved hunter's, letting the tears stream down on her face… and then his.

"Never do that again." She begged, breaking the kiss, her trembling hands holding Dean's face so she could look into his eyes.

Sam couldn't stop his smile remembering how cute they were. Y/n literally had Dean wrapped around her little finger, to the point he accepted to teach her how to hunt and soon she was part of their team too. Until … a few months ago. After two years of them being constantly close to each other, Sam could tell something was off when Dean started to go out without eating breakfast with Y/n. Of course she got suspicious after the third time and that was when their endless arguments started.

"Why don't you just tell me what's wrong?"

"Because nothing is wrong, Y/n."

Actually there was. Something was VERY wrong. Anyone could tell that just by the change in Dean's eyes whenever he wanted to look at Y/n. Day by day he was getting more quiet and cold. Now they didn't even eat pie together or watch movies late at night. And Sam couldn't ignore his brother being grumpy or drunk on hunts, not anymore.

"Ok man, I've had enough. You either tell me what's wrong with you or next time I won't make any excuses so you can leave Y/n out of our hunt plans. I'm serious, Dean, I'll tell her the truth." He finally said, when they were alone in the impala, on their way to do their next hunt.

"She wants more."

"More?"

"Yeah. Sometimes it's like she sees more in me. She thinks we can have a different life. There's no need for any saying, I can see it in her eyes whenever we accidentally come across some family at a diner that try to feed their kids or people's wedding photos whenever we go to talk with some witnesses or whoever during the research! Sometimes she even looks up wedding dresses or kid stuff on the net!" Dean blew his anger out of his nostrils and sighed, shaking his head.

"Wow." Sam couldn't find the proper word to say but he couldn't hide his surprised face either.

"What?" Dean gave him an annoyed look.

"I mean …" Sam chuckled. "… are you telling me you're actually angry with her for imagining the things you always dream about?!"

"Sam …"

"No, really. I'm just curious. What's wrong with you, man?" Sam asked genuinely, waiting for an answer.

"What's wrong with me?! You think something is wrong with me just because I'm the rational one in this relationship; who's actually able to see the difference between a dream and the reality?"

Yeah, anyone could take that earnest speech, but not Sam. He'd seen and knew enough about his brother.

"What's the reality? Aren't you and Y/N living that dream life already?"

"What?! No. No … that's not the same." Dean shook his head.

"Really? How is it not? It's been two years, Dean. You two are constantly with and/or around each other. Always worried when the other one is in trouble and still looking at one another like there is nothing in the world that can make you happy as much as this relationship. So … excuse me if I won't buy your pretty speech; man ." Sam said, Rolling his eyes.

"Ok, let's say you're right but ... is it gonna be like that forever? With all the supernatural crap that we have to take care of … and the constant danger and chaos in this hunter life we have… I …"

"You what?" Sam asked when Dean didn't finish his sentence. He was lost in his thoughts, staring at this unknown point in the depth of the road. Finally he blew out his despair.

"I just can't let her fall for the things I know I can't provide for her. It's not fair, Sammy. It's not fair to lock her up in this dark life with me just because she loves me … especially while I know there is a whole bright future out there waiting for her."

"Here we go, the old Dean's self-doubt" Sam thought to himself as he took a deep breath before finding the best words to wake his brother up from this nightmare

"Yeah, I know but I don't think it's your call. If Y/n wants to go to hell with you instead of living in heaven with someone else, it's her choice. Not your responsibility. Right?"

Dean shook his head while his lips curved up a little to fake a smile but he never answered or said anything about that conversation ever again. He kept his silence for like three weeks … until someone new showed up: "Gary Smith". A tall man with the most stylish haircut and the most perfect teeth and smile.

They saw him for the first time at their hangout bar, as the new bartender who almost jumped in Y/n's way as soon as they entered the bar.

"Oh my God, bunny! Is this really you?" He said, pulling her in his embrace. Like she was the long time missing piece of his beloved puzzle!

"Bonny? You're wrong. Her name is Y/n." Dean said, pretty annoyed by the way Gary tightened his arms around Y/n's little shoulders, making him chuckle.

"No, uh … it's just a nickname." Y/n said as soon as the guy let her go.

"Yeah, actually the most fitting nickname that I could think of. I mean … you have to agree. She got the most cute little ears in the world." The guy explained, chuckling and pulling on her little star earring. Well, if Sam wanted to be honest, he had to agree with him. He never paid any attention to it before but now that Gary mentioned it, he could tell Y/n's ears were truly small.

"I see … So … I guess this means you were close friends?" Dean said, already hating the way Y/n e's blushed with hearing her old nickname.

"Uh … well, no. Actually more than that." The guy grinned, ruffling his own hair while he was awkwardly laughing and looking at Y/n. Just like a proud embarrassed teen!

"We used to date." Y/n said.

*oh* Sam tried his best not to let that stupid grin sit on his lips but Dean's frown and his sudden heavy silence didn't let him do so.

"Yeah. We are kinda each other's first. Like … you know? prom date." The man added, giving Y/n a wink while Dean's gaze was still locked on his large arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah. It's been years, Gary."

"I know. But believe me, bunny. you still look the same." He said, bending to put a kiss on her right cheek.

Dean would kill him. Sam just knew that. Because his brother's eyes were already burning with jealousy.

"By the way, don't you wanna tell me who these gentlemen are ?" The guy asked Y/n, giving her his softest smile.

"Of course. This is Sam and this is Dean. My colleagues who are my friends now. I live in their place."

After they met, everything got even more complicated. Y/n, the girl who was still trying to get old-happy-days Dean back suddenly stopped whatever she used to do. No more complains, no waiting at nights to see Dean before going to bed, no more effort to get involved in hunts, no nothing. And despite what Dean had claimed before, it was making Dean even more frustrated. Day to day he and Y/n were getting colder towards each other and there was nothing he could do to fix it. That was what made him even more furious. Sam already knew all of that and he still had to live with both of those grumpy faces. So last night when they began to fight, he could see this was coming: Y/n left the bunker after Dean let some hurtful things out of his mouth, just because he didn't know how to deal with all the heartache anymore. He now was convinced that Y/n didn't love him anymore. Yet the next day after drinking whatever strong drink they had, he begged Sam to come with him. Apparently Jodie texted Dean about Y/n being in her place for that night. Just to make sure that her crazy step son won't sell his soul over a tracking spell! So Dean almost begged his brother to be there with him, cause Dean believed that as much as Y/n didn't care about him, she still respected Sam and cared about him. Like a little sister and her elder brother.

So here they were, In Jodie's living room, in front of her and Y/n.

"Considering your sleepy eyes, I think we caught you at bed time, huh?" Sam asked, checking Y/n's obvious eye bags.

"Who says that? I'm totally good, Sam."

She said with a small smile, looking much more in control and stronger than before. So Sam knew it was a lie. Y/n Just had made her peace with what had happened last night. The realization۹ kicked Dean in the gut. Y/n always used to be stronger and bolder when she got hurt.

"I'm gonna make some coffee for us. Why don't you guys take a seat till I come back?"

Jodie interrupted, to ease the heavy and sharp silence that suddenly had fallen over all of them.

Y/n gave her a smile.

"Of course."

It was so fake. Her smile didn't even curl her lips completely. She was still badly hurting.

Sam swore in his head when he looked over his brother who sank silently into the nearest seat at the end of the table like a broken shell that he was too . One of Dean's hands was in the pocket of his jacket, the other formed a fist on the table. Sam was sure Dean knew it too. He knew everything was almost past saving. "Almost". Sam tried to stick to their small chance.

"So …" He cleared his voice before he put some (semi fake) hope into his words."You're … you're gonna come back home today or did Alex and Claire made you promise them otherwise?" He laughed and tried to make it funny but the truth was he asked this for Dean's sake, knowing he already was struggling to find the words … to let Y/n know how much he wanted her back … to ask her to come back.

"To be honest … I don't think I can live in the bunker anymore." Y/n said and as Dean's head snapped up to look at her in horror, she raised her hand to stop his (likely) protests.

"I applied for a job 3 weeks ago and to my surprise they called me this morning to tell me I'd actually got it."

*What?*

No one had to ask it. The question was already hung in the air. She snored mockingly in her nose. "Perfect timing, right?"

She moved her gaze from her interlocked fingers on the table to Dean's eyes.

He didn't answer, he didn't move but he got tense. Still staring back at Y/n.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Sam asked, once again saving Dean from asking the question he was itching to ask with some other words that for sure couldn't be nice.

"I wanted to but I didn't think I could actually get it and even if I did, I never figured out how to tell you. Besides, I never considered the "move out" option before..." She looked at Sam for a second before she turned her gaze on Dean. "... But I actually appreciate that you bring it up. I think now I can take the advice. I'm gonna move on."

Sam's heart dropped in his stomach when he heard those words. Because he knew what this meant. It felt something like having to watch Dean get stabbed in the heart.

"Is this … because of that Bartender?" Dean asked, staring deadly at Y/n with his bloodshot eyes. He was already chewing on his bottom lip. And Sam knew a heavy storm was on its way to hit them.

"I don't want to answer that question."

*shit*

"Why? Because you can't just simply say no?" Dean scolded and Sam could see how it pushed on Y/n boundaries.

"No. Because it's not your fucking business and it's not Gary's business either. But at least he knows his limits."

*well, fuck*

"By "limits" you mean when he drools on you just because for God knows whatever the reason, you started to wear leather jackets when we go there?"

"WHAT?!"

*Oh, fuck* Sam thought to himself, watching Y/n rise from her seat.

"You think … you really think that I …" she laughed nervously and Sam could tell she would punch Dean in the face if she wasn't a sweet, super nice person.

"How you can even …"

"I can even what, Y/n? Are we now going to pretend like I'm a blind man who can't see how you got attracted to your ex again? Did you really think I couldn't see how your hands were shaking when his filthy face lighted up by seeing you for the first time after all these years?"

Sam wanted to interrupt him or at least leave the room but everything was happening so fast.

"So what? Why and since when you care about my private life?"

"Since you stopped drinking bunker's beers just because you rather drink those crappy poisonous cocktails he makes at the bar!"

Dean was on his feet now as well. And despite his will, Sam couldn't stop his smile. He never saw his brother this jealous before. It was fun.

"Poisonous? … You … of all people, you are the one who says this? cause as much as I know, you're the one who puts dormitives in my guest's food so the poor guy gets tired and can't spend his time with me!"

"Yeah, because your poor guy is not welcomed in MY PLACE!" Dean yelled, punching the table with so much power that made everyone almost jump out of their skins.

"Dean!" Finally Sam interrupted but as soon as he stood up, someone rang the doorbell and Sam could hear Jodie welcoming someone inside.

"Guys … I know it's not my place to interfere but you two really need to sort things out somewhere private … of course that's when both of you can be much calmer than this."

"No, we have nothing to say or to talk about, anymore. Your brother was clear enough when he said he wants me to move out, so I'll move out. And that's it."

Y/n declared, looking at Sam to resist any eye contact with Dean, probably to make him even more crazy.

"And that's it? You wanna ignore that part where you were too eager and ready to accept that suggestion and leave the bunker instantly like your pants were on fire?!"

Dean retorted while Y/n was shaking her head like she couldn't believe him.

"Whose pants are on fire?" Jodie interrupted as soon as she re-entered the room with the coffees she'd made, this time a man was with her. Y/n's guy. The famous bartender.

*Oh, No!*

Sam sighed, closing his eyes for a second so the guy couldn't read his face.

"Obviously not mine." Dean hissed through his teeth, looking first at the guy and then at Y/n with such a disappointment and rage that no one could ignore.

"Hey, what's wrong?" The guy asked, choosing the worst spot to stand on: right next to Y/n.

"My typical life I guess. Nothing's new." She mumbled in reply to him but her eyes were still on Dean.

"No, nothing is wrong with your life, Y/n. It's about your choices. That's what's wrong with you. As always." Dean said bitterly. As sharp as a knife, as cold as ice. Sam could see how it drained color from Y/n's face.

"You better watch your mouth, buddy." The Gary guy warned Dean and Sam could tell that if it wasn't for the sudden thud sound that stole everyone's attention, Dean would throw a fight right there. But …

"Y/n!" Jodie almost screamed. Y/n was laying on the floor, seemingly unconscious.

"Oh, God." Sam said as Jodie rushed to her.

"Y/n? … Y/n can you hear me?"

As she sat next to her, Gary's fingers already were on Y/n's carotid pulse point. So Sam couldn't stop himself from looking up at his brother, who was still standing where he was. In shock.

"Oh, shit!" Gary's worried voice made Sam check Y/n's pale face again but Jodie was the one to dare ask the question which was on everyone's minds.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Her pulse ... too faint." He said before turning to Dean: "Is she bleeding?"

"Bleeding?" Dean blinked and mumbled in confusion.

If it was up to Sam, he'd ask *What bleeding?* & *Why are you asking this from my brother?*

"Oh my. You still don't know. Do you?" Gary sneered.

"Know what? What's happening?" Jodie was freaking out now and Sam actually felt the same. He didn't like the way this stranger pretended like he knew her better than them. However what happened next was much more unexpected. And … rude!

To everyone's surprise, the guy reached out to Y/n's jeans and drew his hand between her legs but before anyone could react, he spread her legs open so it could be possible for everyone to see that big red stain there. Then he raised his hand. It was all wet and red in blood!

"She's having a miscarriage." He revealed.

Sam's gaze instantly caught Dean's ... Burning. Dean was burning inside with his heavy silence.

"Don't you worry. It's not mine." Gary added more fuel to that hell with such a mocking tone, staring right back at Dean's eyes.

Now Sam could feel it. The storm was there: rising in his brother's roar!

Before Sam could've moved any muscles, Gary was already pinned to the wall, Dean's hands on his now-ripped-out collar.

"Dean, no!" Sam jumped in, trying to catch his brother's arm before his fist make any contact with the guy's nose but all he could do was changing the direction of the punch which landed on Gary's shoulder, making a painful cracking sound.

"I said no … Dean, stop it." Sam had to literally cage Dean in his arms so the furious man couldn't tear Gary apart.

"Get off me, Sam. This son of a bitch has to learn his place."

"Enough!" As Dean just broke himself free, Jodie's scream stopped everyone in their tracks.

"It's enough!" Jodie warned all three men, pointing at them one by one.

"You want to fight? Not here. Not in my house!"

"But ..."

As soon as Dean opened his mouth to protest, Jodie cut him:

"And you … you should know Y/n is pregnant with your twins. So … you'll be a responsible man who will try his best to save them or you can get the hell out of here and never come back!"

"What?" Sam was too shocked to suppress his reaction while Dean couldn't even find any words to say. His confused look darted between Jodie's face and Y/n's figure while his parted lips kept moving without making any noise, just like a dying fish on the shore!

"I promised her not to tell anyone but it was a promise under normal conditions, not this." Jodie sighed, struggling to keep her emotions under control. Sam saw the worry in her frown. Like a real mother, worried for her children. However it was nothing in comparison to his brother's blank eyes and pale face.

"Dean, It's ok. We just need to take her to hospital. … it's ok, man. I promise."

He had to grab Dean by his jacket, as his brother was struggling to process all of these in his head.

"Come on, man. We got no time. Do I need to do this alone or you'll …"

"Get the car, Sammy."

It was just a simple sentence. Yet it had enough power to make Sam's heart sank. Since Dean had put the car keys in his hand saying that, Sam couldn't stop thinking about that tone. Dean never had called Baby a "car" In years. And Sam had never heard that crack in his voice since their Dad's death.

"You ok?" He finally let himself ask, two hours after they arrived at the hospital.

"I want to be." Dean closed his eyes and put his head against the cold wall, letting the dim light to darken the shadows under his eyes.

"I'm sure she'll be good. She's strong, Dean. You know that."

He smiled and Sam looked away not to watch him. He knew that smile. Dean used to give him that, whenever everything was gone so wrong that Dean couldn't promise him anything good. Like when both of them were still kids. Hungry, cold and all alone in a rusty motel room where John had left them on their own for a one day long hunt but then a heavy snow had crashed the roads and kept them apart for half a week. So Dean had to wash the dishes and do the laundry in the motel to rent the room for another day and provide some snacks so they wouldn't starve to death. But after three days, the hotel managers didn't want them to be around. And Sam could vividly remember that smile on his brother's face when he asked: *Where should we go then?*

"You were always such a father material. You know?"

Sam admitted with a broken smile on his face.

"You were always responsible, kind and caring with me as a kid. And I can't imagine anyone who deserves to be a father more than you."

Dean took a deep breath and opened his eyes without looking at him: "But I don't want ... I really can't, Sammy."

All, it certainly wasn't the response Sam had expected. He used to believe that Dean would never turn down any chance to start a family with Y/n. Especially after everything in the world was back to normal.

"Are you kidding me? You always wanted this."

"No …" Dean finally turned his gaze to meet his brother's confused eyes. "No, Sammy. Not like this. I don't want to raise another kid without his mom. I'm not that strong anymore."

Dang. Once again Sam's heart dropped in his stomach. Dean was really helpless.

"Mr. Winchester?"

Dean was on his feet as Sam just realized the doctor's presence.

"It's me."

Sam prayed for any good news as doctor took a glance of Dean and fixed his glasses on his face …

"To be continued …"

READ CHAPTER 2 HERE

tag list:

@jay-and-dean @adoptdontshoppets @akshi8278

The next and also ultimate chapter will post on Sunday, April 25. Thanks for reading.

Feedback are always appreciated.

[stab-the-son-of-a]

Whumptober No. 7

No. 7 - MY SPIDEY-SENSE IS TINGLING

helplessness | numbness | blindness

(heavy warning for dehumanizing language throughout, stalking mention, emotional abuse, psychological torture, mention of gaslighting and the traumatic sequelae, in-character endorsement of abuse, mentions of starvation, drugging, forced addiction, overdose, allusions to non con body modifications, self surgery and body horror)

So you want to incapacitate your whumpee!

You’ve done the hard part- the stalking, the redecorating and furnishing of your whumpee’s new home, and gathering up supplies for their training, should you decide that route. (Please feel free to explore our variety of material concerning conditioning and breaking in new acquisitions. Training your own whumpee can be an intensely rewarding experience. See also our list of Whumpline Approved™️ trainers. Be sure to use our promotional code BONDINGTIME12 for a free consultation and 50% off your first collar set!)

Now you have to make sure you don’t lose all your hard work! The options available to you may seem overwhelming, so let’s break it down category by category.

Primarily there are a few different categories:

Physical restraints

Psychological restraints

Physiological restraints

Physical restraints

We are all familiar with some form of physical restraint. A bit of rope, a length of duct tape, a nice sturdy chain around the neck or wrists. It’s the most readily available form of restraint that even untrained whumpers can manage. After all, what are hands but built-in restraints? Don’t be afraid to manhandle your whumpee- their body is yours to control. So, straddle them. Bodily block their exit. Wrap a nice bow and a collar around their neck and chain it to the wall. Cuff their arms behind their back or tape their ankles together. Bind them to a chair! I’m personally a big fan of stress positions as well, and I highly recommend checking out the extensive resources and various guides and graphics for ideas.

If you have the space and means, you can also lock the doors and windows and allow your whumpee to be more free range in your home. This is a popular style of restraint for more domestic whumpees, or ones with set tasks. You can also lock them into a specific room. The key rule of thumb is that you need some means of keeping an eye on your whumpee, lest they take advantage of their limited freedom. Many an unprepared whumper has been ambushed by their captives because they grew complacent.

Tracking devices can be quite stylish and come in a variety of styles to suit your aesthetic. Similarly, there are devices invisible to the naked eye and have the benefit of being impossible to remove without surgery. The downside of these is that it is best done by a professional to ensure there isn’t undue damage or potential complications such as infection or rejection of the implant. In some notable cases, whumpees have attempted to remove the implant on their own and were damaged irreparably, some to the point of requiring disposal. For the romantic, extreme free range, or domestic oriented whumper, or simply if you’re on a budget or not ready to bring them home yet, turning your whumpee’s own electronics into your own personal tracking devices is as simple as installing a few free to low cost applications.

Feel free to test out new styles and methods or to mix and match. Break out of your comfort zone- you may just find your new favorite.

A word of caution: have adequate first aid supplies and medical attention readily available if experimenting with any sort of bindings that restrict airflow or involve sharp objects, and seek doctor’s expertise when using tracking methods involving surgery.

Psychological Restraints

Warning: It’s highly recommended that only advanced practitioners attempt this as it is a very labor intensive and delicate process that may backfire. Please acquaint yourself with our resources on conditioning before attempting this. Even skilled, veteran whumpers have made mistakes and misjudgments that lead to losing their whumpees, either due to overestimating the completion of the restraints, or misinterpreting warning signs as effective conditioning.

Remember, the overeager whumper gets the body bag. And nobody likes to have to start from square one. This section is covered in depth by supplementary materials and serves only an educational purpose. It is not meant to act as any sort of guideline or recommendation for conditioning tactics.

This method involves heavily conditioning your whumpee. Unlike other forms of restraint, you must pick a method and stick with it. While keeping your whumpee confused can help in the short term, the long term negative effects can irreversibly ruin a whumpee’s disposition.

If you control the truth and your whumpee’s perceptions, if you can force them to doubt their own memories and decision making, you can step in as the one to provide direction. The key aspect of psychological restraints is to prevent a whumpee from even trying to escape. They can internally wish to leave, they can hate you and spit venom, however if they are: too afraid (of the consequences, of disappointing you, of the unknown of what exists without your guidance, of backlash from others), too enamored (with you, with the life they lead, with the ‘good times’), too helpless (feeling they have no other option but to obey, or that the power imbalance is too great).

Physiological Restraints

But wait, to the inexperienced whumper, this may appear like a duplicated category. What exactly is the distinction between physical restraint and physiological restraint?

Both terms refer to the body, however physiological refers specifically to the functions while physical is used in the tactile sense. Physiological restraints involve damaging or weakening bodily functions to the point of inhibiting escape.

As many of these methods directly impact your whumpee’s health and wellbeing in order to work, it is highly recommended more advanced tactics are used under doctor supervision or with disposable whumpees.

Some examples include:

Starvation - This will inhibit and weaken a whumpee, allowing lighter forms of restraint

Sleep deprivation - This will disorient a whumpee and complicate any attempts to escape or collect any leverage.

Blinding or otherwise removing a sense - This disrupts your whumpee’s ability to gather information about you and their surroundings. There is a broad spectrum covered here, from removable tools such as gags, headphones and blindfolds, or more permanent options involving surgery or trauma to disable the sense in question.

Drugging - Drugs have a myriad of applications. Inducing sickness in your whumpee can prevent their wandering ways and also help bond them to you as a caretaker. Sleeping medication can be very useful for transport or for turning especially strong willed whumpees compliant, and some have memory altering properties. Addictive substances are not recommended for their difficulty in accessibility and high mortality rate especially during withdrawals, and it is impossible to determine with any accuracy how a whumpee will react to them.

This of course is not a comprehensive guide. No singular whump resource is static as the art is evolving with new innovators joining the ranks every day. Neither is it meant to be taken as gospel. Half the enjoyment of breaking in a whumpee is deciding which tactics feel right for you and your whumpee.

Have a whump-derful day!

.

.

(WHMPLINE Corporation, aka "1-877-WHMP-NOW", hereafter referred to as "the corporation", disclaims all personal and professional liability for incidental or consequential damages for any actions of the user. The corporation assumes no responsibility or liability for any loss or damage suffered by any person as a result of the use or misuse or intentional disregard of any of the information or content contained within any documents and programs affiliated with the corporation. The corporation undertakes no liability for any loss or damages suffered as a result of the use, misuse, or reliance on the information and content contained in this document.)

[autolenaphilia]

Universal Horror Reviews Part 5: The Werewolf movies

(This isn't an actual series, but they are all Universal horror films and are on this dvd box-set I own of "The Wolf Man: The Legacy Collection", so I decided to group them together)

Werewolf of London

This 1935 film is often seen as an attempt to imitate Paramount’s success with the classic film version of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde in 1931. And certainly Henry Hull’s character Wilfred Glendon has similarities with Jekyll/Hyde of the 1931 film that goes beyond those that the werewolf idea inherently has with Stevenson’s story. The character is a London-based scientist here. And while his werewolf form isn’t talkative, he is more human-acting and wears clothes, which gives him more of a Hyde feel. The transformation scene ending with him putting on his hat and coat and walking out seems taken right out of the 1931 Jekyll film. The film suggests that in werewolf form Glendon’s dark side is expressed, which gives the werewolf myth even more Jekyll/hyde overtones. There is a flower that can momentarily cure his lycanthropy, and Glendon’s desperate struggle to get it mirrors that of Hyde’s struggle for the transformation drug. The film also ends with him being shot by the police at his home and him transforming back into his human self as he dies.

The film’s heavy debt to the 1931 Jekyll and Hyde film is obvious and undeniable. And Werewolf of London while a fine film is also definitely inferior to Rouben Mamoulian’s Jekyll. It does not have the strong, stylish and innovative direction and editing that makes the 1931 film such a classic. And being made after the Hays Code in 1935, the disturbing sex and violence that makes the 1931 film so shocking even today is also absent.

Still this is a very well-made film. And it is still one of the first Hollywood werewolf films and as such has some ideas of its own. Glendon’s fate is not of his own making, and Henry Hull makes him into a sympathetic figure. He is a man turned into a killer against his will and tortured by his guilt. Yet he is not wholly sympathetic. He is also quite a waspish and jealous person. These negative characteristics are heavily implied to play a role in his actions as a werewolf. His wife Lisa Glendon (played by Valerie Hobson) meets an old childhood friend Paul Ames (Lester Matthews) and their friendship rekindles, which awakens a strong jealousy in Wilfred. And this jealousy seems to also exist in his werewolf form and seems to motivate him in the finale. It is another trace of the influence of the 1931 Jekyll/Hyde film, but it is still a very interesting character dynamic for a werewolf. Henry Hull shines in this complex role.

Apparently the design Pierce ended up using six years later for The Wolf-Man was his original idea for the werewolf in this film. But Henry Hull didn’t want too disfiguring make-up, so a more restrained version was used instead. It is still good, and the transformation sequences are well done.

Warner Oland plays Dr. Yogami. He is the werewolf who bit and infected Glendon with “werewolfery” (as Yogami calls it), yet also struggles with the guilt over his involuntary killing. Dr Yogami probably is the element of this film that has dated the most. Oland was a white Swedish actor and was perhaps Hollywood’s foremost yellowface actor in the 30s, with his greatest success in the role of Charlie Chan. His character here at least speaks good english and is portrayed sympathetically, but yellowface it is. Yet his performance is if you can look past that rather good. He plays a man who is in the same situation as Glendon. Yet the two werewolves come into a tragic conflict over the cure.

Universal’s later film The Wolf-man would ultimately become the defining werewolf film. And I overall prefer the latter film. It develops the werewolf idea further and in a more original fashion, free from the strong Jekyll and Hyde influences that hangs over this film. Yet several of its ideas came from this movie made six years earlier. And this is a well-made and very enjoyable film, brought convincingly to life by the acting, directing and special effects.

The Wolf Man

This film excels in gothic foggy environments

This film is perhaps the definitive werewolf film. In fact, it might be the most influential werewolf story. What Bram Stoker’s original Dracula novel was to vampires, this film might be for werewolves.

And that might be because it is such a compelling tragedy. Lawrence Talbot is the most sympathetic “universal monster” of them all. He is just an ordinary person, who gets bitten by a werewolf and turns into one himself. And what this leads to is an innocent man, who loses control of himself and is compelled to kill. It is an impossible situation, the guilt is terrible.

Certainly that was also in Werewolf of London, but Talbot is far more pitiable. There was the suggestion in the 1935 film that Wilfred Glendon’s werewolf form was an expression of his dark side (with shades ofJekyll and Hyde), his jealousy and aggression being unleashed in his murders. That isn’t the case with Larry Talbot, he attacks people that he loves and has no real reason to hurt.

It makes him into a more simple character perhaps, but it makes the film more focused and able to tug harder on the audience’s heart strings. The emotions are more direct, more strong. The audience might be unsure what to think of Wilfred Glendon, but Talbot feels more unambiguously deserving of our sympathy.

This is Lon Chaney Jr’s most famous role and it is perfect for him. Chaney Jr. was an underrated actor and this film is proof of that. By the end of the film, his entire bearing is expressing the guilt, anguish and fear Talbot is feeling.

The supporting cast is excellent too. Claude Rains is of course excellent as Lawrance’s father Sir John Talbot. His position is almost as difficult as that of his son. The very end of the film when he realizes the full tragedy of his and his son’s situation is heartbreaking.

Bela Lugosi is in this film too, relegated to an important but small role as the werewolf who infects Talbot. Putting an actor of such weight in a relatively small role might seem like a waste, but he adds to the film a lot. His character has not aged well, he is a romani stereotype but it is a sympathetic one and his screen presence makes the character work. Maria Ouspenskaya plays his mother, and despite the romani stereotyping she has to portray is actually quite touching as a maternal figure. And Universal stalwart Evelyn Ankers does good work as the love interest here.

The film is just beautifully mad. The great script by Curt Siodmak is an elegiac dark fairy tale. The dialogue has a mythical quality to it, and indeed it is sometimes mistaken for genuine folklore, like the famous “even a man who is pure in heart…” poem

Together with the atmospheric cinematography, set design, the wolf man’s make-up by Jack Pierce and the music all contributing to the gothic mood. It is perhaps the last great Universal horror film and remains an emotionally affecting tragedy.

She-Wolf of London

This is a movie that is almost impossible to talk about without spoiling it, it ends with a big twist that is very fun if you don’t see it coming.

I recommend seeing it before you read the rest of this review. It’s a good movie as long as you leave any preconceptions of what it should be at the door.

Reading about it, I’ve noticed this movie isn’t that well-liked among Universal horror film fans. It’s because it is really a mystery and not a proper supernatural horror movie. The idea of a female werewolf is suggested, but never actually shows up. And instead it ultimately becomes a mystery film. But it is a good one in my opinion. The suggestion of werewolves adds a nice gothic tinge to the mystery drama. The characters are interesting, there is some good fucked-up psychology driving the plot here. That the story is centered around and driven by three women feels refreshing even today, and definitely makes it feel different from other mystery films of the era.

[moviemunchies]

[I watched this movie the weekend before Thanksgiving but I was gone for a week and a half so I’m sorry this wasn’t up sooner.]

The Harder They Fall tells you right from the outset that the events of the story you are about to watch are entirely fictional, but that the characters are based on real people. That’s… a bit of a bold claim--they’re all named after real life black historical figures, but for the most part they share very little with their historical counterparts. I suspect that the reason for choosing the names of real-life people was to counter any nay-sayers who would claim that it’s unrealistic to have a cowboy movie with an almost entirely black cast; after all, you just need to Google the names of characters to see that yes, there were black outlaws, gunmen, and lawmen in the Old West that have been left out of popular culture. Still, it’s a bit weird, and Your Mileage May Vary on using historical figures’ names to mostly unrelated characters in an action movie.

But you should still watch this movie because it’s a darn good movie.

Okay so The Harder They Fall is a pretty straightforward Plot: when Nat Love was a child, outlaw Rufus Buck stormed into his house with his posse and killed his parents before carving a cross into his forehead. Years later, Nat Love hunts down the last of Rufus Buck’s gang, and though Buck himself survives, he’s in federal custody so Nat’s not worried about that. Until it’s not, Buck escapes custody and is on the loose again. So Nat reluctantly gets a gang together to go kill this sucker once and for all.

I liked nearly everything about this movie? Let’s take it point-by-point: 

It has a fantastic cast. The groups of both the heroes and villains are made up of memorable and entertaining characters who I loved watching bounce off of each other. In a movie like this the worst thing you can do is have characters who are difficult to tell apart, and that’s not a problem with The Harder They Fall. I found them all interesting, all entertaining, all unique, and make the movie an enjoyable experience.

Also this movie has pretty great music? I want it known that I’m not a music guy so I couldn’t really tell you the different genres for sure? But they’re good songs, guys! This easily could have just stuck to one genre and instead there are different kinds of music, some of which is obviously homaging classic spaghetti Westerns.

There are action scenes that are fantastic but I don’t think that the violence is ever overwhelming in those scenes (although it IS R-rated violence, don’t get me wrong). There are scenes in which we see the villains torture characters, and those I think will be a bit much for those that are sensitive to that sort of thing in movies. Overall the action scenes are great and that makes it a great action movie.

[I do wonder if this movie was made, at least in part, as a response to Django Unchained. The n-word isn’t used at all in this film which is definitely a nice change from that one.]

The biggest flaw with this movie that I’ve noticed, other than the above-mentioned bit about how these characters are only barely based on real people, is that I think it goes on too long? Don’t get me wrong, the conclusion/final battle is fine, but there’s a sequence in the movie that doesn’t really feel like it belongs--it’s cool, it’s stylish, but not as much as some other great scenes, and it doesn’t contribute much to the story at all. It just pads out the running time to make the movie run longer until the final confrontation. Any time there’s a pointless section of a movie, it’s at least a little disappointing and it seems like a waste of time.

That’s a fairly minor issue though--it’s nowhere near as noticeable as the pointless subplot of The Last Jedi.  Still, the movie could have been a bit tighter.

And though this movie ends in a way that leaves a thread or two dangling for another film, it’s mostly self-contained.  And while I would like to see more movies like this, as I’ve said before, I like seeing something that’s not meant to be a mega franchise.

I liked this movie a lot, I think it’s loads of fun, and if you like violent, stylish Westerns, or want to see a historical action movie with an almost entirely black cast, you’ll probably enjoy this film.

[forthegothicheroine]

Opinions on Into the Dark Movies

I’ve seen a lot, though not all, of the Blumhouse series of Into the Dark, direct to Hulu horror movies themed around various holidays.  Some of them suck.  Some of them are surprisingly good!  Most are mediocre.  Still, I keep watching.  Rather than try to rank these movies, I’m just going to give a few of them awards.

Favorite Movie: Pooka Lives

If you were there for the height of Slenderman blogging, this will hit you hard!  The first Pooka movie was a psychological thriller and definitely interesting, but the horror-comedy sequel was the thing that touched my heart.  It’s all about how the internet creates memes that completely change from where they start by the whims of each new viral art piece.  While watching it, I said “according to Twin Peaks, this would be a a tulpa” at one point, and then Felicia Day said “I’ve got it, it’s a tulpa!”  She heard me!  Rachel Bloom kills Whil Weaton in the opening!  All you really need to know going in is that Pooka is a stuffed animal bear-rabbit-monster who repeats words in a “naughty” or “nice” voice.

Most Effective Horror Movie: I’m Just Fucking With You

Somebody on the Bloody Disgusting website said the stuff in this movie is worse torture than Saw or Hostel- but the kicker is, the torment is mostly mental and emotional.  An unlikeable internet troll checks into a sleazy motel, only to discover that the guy in charge of the place is a nastier troll than he’ll ever be.  This bespectacled, southern-accented slacker just keeps pulling pranks, each one more mean-spirited than the last, until they escalate to murder and the total destruction of our hero’s remaining humanity.  The constant neon-lit look of the motel is super intense, but the most important thing about this is that it shows you how really fucking annoying the Joker would be if you actually met him.

Sexiest Villain: Pilgrim

Look, I dunno.  Brother Ethan is just the sexiest evil Puritan you’ll ever find, as small as that pool may be.  He’s totally invested in what he’s doing, he fully believes in the lessons he’s teaching, he’s maybe a ghost or a trickster spirit or something, he has a great accent, he has a great laugh, and he has great piercing eyes.  Also he has this ongoing dynamic with the final girl that’s maybe sexually charged or maybe isn’t, but the whole thing is definitely a battle of wills and beliefs between them and that is hot.  Honorable mention goes to the hitman in The Body, but he only looked hot, he didn’t actually act hot, and there’s a difference.

Most Believeable Villain: New Year New You

Maybe the murders aren’t all believeable, but “Get Well” Danielle is!  Once a loathesome high school bully, she has now found fame and fortune as a loathesome social media influencer, and a culture that supports vapid self-promotion is one she thrives in.  Are the others in the movie any better, though?  They hate her, but isn’t it partly because they want to be her?  Don’t we all kind of want what she has, even while disdaining every part of her that got her where she is?

Movie I Could Have Written Better: Uncanny Annie

This movie about an evil board game sucked, but it didn’t have to!  There’s so much a horror comedy could parody about the modern board game scene.  It could have been an incredibly complex game with mutliple expansions where you’re two hours in and still haven’t gotten to using all the mechanics.  It could have been a super artsy Euro game with stunning evil art but instructions that are very poorly translated into English.  I work for a book and game store!  Give me a chance, I could script a greatdark parody of the the Arkham Horror franchise!

Movie That Might Have Been Scarier Without the Supernatural: Pure

I actually really respect the whole setup of this movie.  The notion of a “purity camp” father-daughter celebration is stunning and sickening, the fathers are holding their daughters to impossible standards and threatening to remove their love if they ever fair, the girls can’t trust that anyone they meet won’t reveal their secrets to the Reverend, and the camp itself looks like if that Midsommar farm was just No Fun Allowed.  Anyway, I don’t think they needed a weird rewriting of Lilith.  It’s a psychological cult horror, so let it stay that.  The girls can kill their dads at the end without any supernatural power.

Best Cheese: School Spirit

As soon as I saw the trailer and realized this was a Breakfast Club pastiche, I was in, baby.  You’ve got the prep, the class clown, the stoner, the nerd, and the delinquent all in for detention.  They resist the mean disciplinary teacher, they bond, they share secrets, they get high, they see beyond their cliques, and a masked slasher murders them one by one.  The villain reveal is ridiculous but kind of charming, a fun riff on the Norman Bates archetype, and the final girl’s speech to the killer at the end should be on all those “Good for her!” female character gif compilations.

Best Villain Outfit: Midnight Kiss

I love that giallo-killer-meets-gimp-suit look!  So creepy, yet so believeable for a club scene!  (Or at least, it would fit in with my memories of Folsom Street Fair.)  The movie itself isn’t super interesting as murder mysteries go, but it’s not bad, the whole thing is super stylish, and it is neat that almost the whole cast of characters, from heroes to villains, are gay.  But yeah, great costume, great party scenes, great beach house, shame about all the murders.

Movie I Wish I Hadn’t Sought Out Spoilers For: Culture Shock

I was trying to decide if I should see these movies and looked at lists of which ones were the best and then I looked into this one and...I spoiled the entire reveal.  It’s a great reveal!  I’ll try to avoid spoilering it here, but in this Spanish and English language movie, our heroine goes from dodging cartel men while trying to cross the border to existing in a beautiful, multicultural suburban town...where they dress like it’s the Tranquility Lane part of Fallout 3, and nobody will let her hold her infant son.  One of the more serious attempts at making a good movie, and I think it succeeds.

Movie That Does a Plotline Better Than Hannibal Did: Flesh & Blood

This movie, while following a pretty typical “Lifetime Movie” style plot (she says, never having seen a Lifetime movie), it understands one important thing: a story about a girl struggling to escape the influence of a pseudo-incestuous serial killer father figure is her goddamn story.  This will have to be my Abigail Hobbes fix fic.

Worst Movie: Tree House

Man, of all the horror movie characters not to get killed...

[dream-girls-evil]

An Unlikely Savior

Read on AO3

It seemed like she’d been running forever. Her legs aches, her lungs burned, and cuts stung her face and arms from fighting her way through the dense forest. Lilith knew she couldn’t keep this up much longer. She was fast, but the creature was faster. If she didn’t figure something out soon, she would die.

Despite everything, she still didn’t want to die.

She weighed her options. Dusk was approaching, and once the light failed her chances of survival were almost nonexistent. If she couldn’t outrun it, and no hiding place magically appeared, she would have to try and fight it off.

Her frozen fingers tightened around the small hunting knife. It was better than nothing, but hardly the weapon she’d wish for.

She scanned frantically ahead, looking for somewhere to make her stand. If she backed against a tree it would just lunge right at her, but in the open her back would be exposed.

There!

Far ahead, almost beyond her sight—a cliff. They must be near the river; she couldn’t hear the water over her own panting. If she could just get there, she might have a chance of knocking it into the ravine. If all else failed, she could jump herself. These creatures may be bloodthirsty, but they must have some sense of self-preservation.

She hoped.

As if sensing her thoughts, a roaring growl sounded from somewhere behind her, shooting a fresh spike of fear down her spine.

Nails digging into her palms, she forced her legs to run faster still. She was so close. So close.

Ten feet away. Her arm shot out, hooking onto the trunk of a young tree. Her momentum swung her around easily, and she raised her knife, gaze locked on the way she’d come as she carefully backed toward the cliff.

She heard it before she saw it, crashing through the brush with even less grace than she’d managed,  snarling and yowling all the while. If she hadn’t known what it was, she might have mistaken the sounds for a rapid dog.

Branches shook as it barreled towards her, and then she could see the creature itself, showing no signs of slowing down or awareness of her location. It was going to hit her at full speed, Lilith thought. If she wasn’t careful, it would knock them both over the edge easily, but if she timed it just right...

She barred her teeth, set her stance. The creature let out a howl of triumph. She braced herself as much as she could, fighting the urge to close her eyes or run. She’d never seen one this close before, and if she survived this, she knew she’d never forget the sight. Her hands shook. She wasn’t sure if her eyes closed or not.

A booming crack echoed through the air, and her eyes went wide as the creature suddenly flew sideways. She whipped her head in the other direction and stared dumbly, mouth agape, as a redheaded woman with a shotgun and a hard expression rose up from behind a bush.

There was a ringing in her ears. Lilith realized that too slowly. There was a ringing in her ears, and she was shaking like a leaf, and the creature...

The creature was lying still, spilling sickly blood onto the forest floor. Dead.

She dropped to her hands and knees, unsure if the cry she felt in her throat had actually made a sound. She could hardly breathe, every inhale pushing her heart against the cage of her aching chest. She needed to move. Just because this woman killed the creature didn’t mean she wasn’t a threat to Lilith as well.

Crunching leaves broke through the din in her head, and she looked up. The woman was walking towards her cautiously, more wary than anything now that she was focused on Lilith.

“Thank you,” Lilith wheezed. Civilization may have collapsed, but she hadn’t forgotten her manners. She sat back on her heels, knife clutched tight but hanging at her side, out of view. She may still have manners, but she wasn’t stupid.

The stranger nodded, gun held across her body. “Are you hurt?” She asked in a gravelly, faintly accented voice.

Lilith shook her head. “Just exhausted. I was running for...” She shook her head again, swallowing thickly. “I don’t know how long it was chasing me.”

“What was your plan, exactly?”

“Throw it off the cliff. Throw myself off. I don’t know, I just couldn’t keep running.”

The woman grimaced. “Well, you're safe now. Relatively, that is."  She looked around, then back at Lilith, still crouched on the rocks and breathing heavily.  Her face softened unsurely, and she shifted the gun to her shoulder, offering a hand. "We should both get out of the area before anything that heard that shot comes looking."

Lilith eyed her warily, gaze shifting from her hand to her gun to her face. The woman lifted an eyebrow.

"I have no interest in harming you, and in your state I'm fairly confident you couldn't harm me. So just let me help you up."

Lilith scowled. She hated it, but this redhead was right. She grabbed her hand, letting the woman haul her to her feet. She had to stop herself from groaning aloud as her legs stretched, nearly buckling.

As soon as Lilith was steady, the woman stepped back, and Lilith could finally focus enough to really look at her unexpected savior.

She was without a doubt the most stylish person Lilith had seen since everything happened—combat boots, tight jeans, leather gloves, and a brown fur coat that she had no doubt was real. Her clothes all looked expensive, certainly not made for hunting and hiking and camping, and yet the way this woman wore them, shotgun slung over her shoulder and her other hand propped on her hip, she looked nothing but natural standing in the middle of the forest.

She was also very, very beautiful. Lilith shut that thought down quickly.

"Well, best of luck,” the stranger said after a few moments when it was clear that Lilith just intended to stare at her.

She turned on her heel, and Lilith realized with a jolt that she intended to leave her there. "Wait!"

The redhead stopped and sighed, but did not turn around. "Listen, I'm sorry, but I can't help you or bring you back to my camp. I don't know you, and—"

"I'm looking for the Greendale settlement," Lilith interjected quickly. "I was headed there when that thing drove me off course. I was sent."

The woman did turn at that, facing her with glaring suspicion—not that Lilith could blame her. "Sent by who?"

"A young couple. Their names were Ambrose and Prudence."

"Ambrose and Prudence? They're all right? When did you see them?" The woman hurled questions at her in rapid succession, face pinched with desperate worry, her wariness of Lilith apparently forgotten as she stepped closer and closer.

Lilith stepped back in turn, hands up in surrender though she still gripped her knife tightly. "I ran into them about a month back, and they were fine," she placated. "They pointed me towards your camp, said it was safe."

The woman glared suddenly—honestly, these mood swings were going to give her whiplash. "How do I know you didn't torture the information out of them and then kill them?"

Lilith scoffed in disbelief. "Well I'm not stupid, for one. Going up against those swords with my little hunting knife would be suicide, no matter how good a fighter I am. Second, I had no reason to think they'd come from a larger camp until they mentioned it, which they did because I helped them out and they wanted to repay me. Ambrose did, at least. I think the girl was rather cross with him for telling me. So, can I come with you or not? Because like you said, we really should be getting out of here."

The redhead eyed her carefully, then rolled her eyes.

“Fine. I still don't trust you, but you at least seem smart enough to know that there's no advantage in killing me."

Lilith smirked. "A pleasure to meet you, too. My name is Lilith."

"Zelda Spellman, mayor of Greendale. What's left of it, anyway."

[seeance]

{{ooc}}

So my Pinterest had these side by side and yet- it’s perfect.