#she just really likes rosaries ok

[pink-cubus]

The correct way to restrain a demon

[molluskzone]

eve and her family were initially written to be catholic (because that is the ONLY religion i have any personal experience with) but im kind of enraptured (LOL) by the very concept of rapturing. so i think i might make them evangelicals instead? that will be such a pain though i have 0 experience with evangelicals. or really protestants of any flavor.

[castlevaniacentral]

The sunrise may never be mine

Chapter two.

‘ oh fuck me ‘

Bloody hell.

Crosses, your body was littered with the rosary, you had wrapped your torso in it. Heck it was smart, holy relics do weaken vampires. But in this case it was making it hard to maneuver you. From the steel that laced your slim arms, confirming to its thin frame and the crucifix that sat just above your left hip.

“Well…this seems to be more antagonizing for me than you.” Alucard grunted out before lifting your shirt at your side, narrowing his eyes he ripped the fabric off your body strategically. He could only go in pieces after all. Pulling it from its confinements, he slipped it off before immediately getting to work on the wound that he caused to your side.

Sighing softly he stitched the wound closed, before dressing it. It felt like he has sighed over a hundred times over the passed hour. One he had another human in his home, and to make matters worse you seemed to know some sort of magic.

Quickly his eyes darted over the little small scars over your arm and torso. Your body trembled on the bed, and your face contorted into unreadable expressions before a pained one took its stay.

Clearly you were pained by something, maybe not so much your body right now because you were unconscious. But it seemed you were having a bad dream, while he could dress the wound. Your memory he wouldn’t be fix.

A soft scoff escaped his lips, why was he even considering helping you anyway. Once he dressed this wound for you. You’d be on your way.

Wrapping the bandage over your side, he glanced back at your arm once more, it seemed to be slightly off from the other one. And upon further inspection it seemed to had been your arm was broken but— you were using it and it didn’t seem like it then?—

He gently ran his cold finger tips over your bare forearm before picking it up inspecting it. It looked like your body had attempted to heal itself, though from your living conditions it couldn’t quit get it right. But how long had it been like this?

Foremost the bruising…it didn’t seem fresh, and when you fought you didn’t show much discomfort. This had to be dangerous, risk for blood infection maybe. He could see the attempt at the terrible wrap- had you been using the armour as some sort of splint?

He furrowed his eyebrows gripping your arm, forcing the bone back into its correct position. Suddenly your body jolted causing alucard to pause mid action to inspect how you were feeling. Clearly you felt that, even in your deep snooze. But there was no better time to do it than when you weren’t aware

Rewrapping your arm with a proper splint. He stood straight looking down at your awfully thin stature. A women your age should have been much more bigger than this. Your ribs poked through your skin and shoulders boney.

The will in you to fight was honestly surprising. Discarding the ripped fabric, alucard decided to wipe your bare skin down from the wetness of outside and your sweat. Whatever you were dreaming about it made you vocal, a soft groan and whimper escaping your lips ever so often. The trembles of your body could have been contributed to because of the cold

Covering you with the blanket he turned to leave before taking one last glance at your sleeping form

“Oh fuck me.” He grunted out leaving you alone in the room.

-

You were back at the manor once again, but this time you had done something wrong. You had broken the mistresses vase. It wasn’t a favourite of hers and to be quite frank she didn’t really like it either, but the opportunity presented itself for her to punish you. And so she did.

Having you whipped mercilessly as you were tied to a tree, the smell of bark filled your nostrils. Had it been any other way this smell would of been ok, but for the stance you were in the smell of this bark was disgusting. And leaning your head into it for some relief from the slashes didn’t quite help. You quietly sobbed knowing that if you made too much noise the torture would continue.

And with each slash you felt the skin on your back tear, the blood trickled down your spine, tickling your lower back sending a wave of discomfort and tenderness.

You didn’t meant to do it. It was an accident you had stumbled over from weakness before colliding into the table. You were hungry and over worked but tried not to complain. But finally your body gave in for a mere second. And look at what it brought you…that’s what you get for being weak.

-

You abruptly sat up, pain shooting through your body at your sudden movement. “Agh” you yelped out, Clutching your side with your left arm. Your body was in agony and the sudden decision you just made was ever so possibly one of the worst ones you have ever. Slowly trying to lie back down you let out deep exhales.

Where the hell were you? Where was ash? What was this place? Did you die? You clutched your side with the arm that didn’t tremble in pain.

Your head shot over to the door that opened the blonde male from earlier returning with a tray with a bowl on it.

‘Oh no’ you thought scooting yourself over, before falling off the bed in attempts to escape him. Falling with a loud thud. You huffed out, he was going to chain you up again. You were going to be a slave all over again. He was going to seal away your powers and lock you in the basement. And when you were bad you were going to get tossed in the dark well and forced to stay until-

“Do not be afraid.”

Your thoughts were silenced once he called out to you hearing the tray settle onto the night table that was beside the lavish bed. He walked around the bed before stepping closer to you, “your wounds will reopen again. I took my time bandaging it. Don’t make my attempts go to waste” he stated coldly before reaching down for you helping you up on the bed once again

Your eyes welled up with tears as your body trembled. Not only were you in pain but now you were scared, “please I don’t wanna be slave!” you said between sobs “please let me go”

Alucard stared at you his brows contorting into confusion before slight irritation, “I don’t have any use for slave. There’s nothing you can provide that I cannot provide myself. You’re useless to me” ouch

Helping you up on the bed he set the pillows up behind you for you to lean back up on. “I’ve brought you food. Eat this” walking back over to the table he picked up the bowl holding it towards you. With a shaky hand you reached out to clutch it. Watching you he guided your hands to hold it securely.

“I don’t care about your history or how you ended up here. Once you’re in good condition. I ask that you please leave”

You looked up at him before down at the bowl he handed over. It appeared to be a porridge of some sorts “thank you.” Was all you could stated tiredly, using your good arm you raised it to wipe the tears from your now swollen face.

Alucard didn’t respond to it instead he turned his head from you. Before standing up abruptly to leave, “has your wound reopened from your fall?” You looked down before shaking your head, “no, good.”

You said before starting to eat your food. “I’ll bring you clothes to cover yourself up” yes your body had been out bare, not completely your breast had been covered by bandages you had managed to find to give yourself support. But oddly enough you didn’t cower in shame upon him seeing your fame.

Because this was normal, usually the masters would buy the slaves naked to see if they had any infirmities. You weren’t allowed to cover up when you were demanded to strip, but innocently your mind thought nothing of your bareness being out for him to see. It wasn’t like he was inspecting you.

Surely there was nothing about you that would have attracted him anyway. You were different looking.

-

When was the last time she ate a full healthy meal? Alucard thought to himself quietly. Upon her sitting up and being able to see her clearly now. He understood that this girl was in no good position in the livelihood sense. She was starved, her bones peaked out from her smooth skin, and she looked malnourished. Upon that her body was littered in scars on her back and arms.

He didn’t pry about it, and he refused to ask. He didn’t want to risk feeling any sympathy for her and ask her to stay longer. To be Frank he wanted her out just as fast as she came in.

And her language, it seemed to be broken as well-‘Alucard no, you can’t get involved again’ his voice reminded him, ‘remember what happened last time’ he stopped in his tracks before glancing back at the girl. There wasn’t an evil bone in her body, she was like a child trapped in an adult one.

Oh right he had to clothe her, “I’ll bring you clothes to cover yourself up” he stated watching as she hastily ate. She hadn’t even shuffled to cover self up in shame or embarrassment, it’s almost as if this was normal to her

Walking out of the room he shook his head in irritation.

Why was he doing this again?

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buck & Eddie: Buck died for three minutes and seventeen seconds!

In 6x12, Eddie told Buck, “You died, Buck!” but Maddie told him, “Buck, you died” and Bobby said the same thing in 6x15 during Buck’s performance review (related post linked here).

Was Buck dying a huge deal?  YES!  And apparently, it affected everyone but Buck.  Eddie cried in Buck’s hospital room, Chris asked him to come back, Maddie cried, Bobby kept vigil by Buck’s bedside with his rosary beads, Athena knew the effect his death would have on her husband because he sees Buck as a son and she told him to “Wake up damn it”.  Chimney cried, Hen did too and May was worried about the effect Buck’s death would have on Bobby just like Athena was worried.  Chimney told Albert they had to take Margaret out because she was hysterical but the audience didn’t see her cry like we did everyone in Buck’s found family and I believe that was on purpose (post linked here).

Now, onto 7x1 where Buck told Eddie that he broke up with Natalia because all she talked about was death and he’s not sure why he thought dating her was a good idea (neither did the audience but ok, that was the decision that was made so there’s nothing that can be done about it).  TM (showrunner) said in a recent interview, Buck was tired of talking about his "death" and he’s ready to find happiness.  If that’s true, then great but if he’s really moved on from it, why didn’t anyone including Eddie, who knows Buck to his core (RG's words) see the growth? Reminder, Eddie's response to Buck's breakup was, "Welcome back to the land of the living, Buck. You were truly missed."

The timeline for last night’s episode was so messed up that it was hard to make heads or tails of anything.  Bobby initially bought their cruise tickets in 5x18 but their trip got postponed at the end of 6x1 since Athena's father had a stroke. It begs the question did those tickets get refunded and he purchased new ones because Athena told Frank, two months before they left on their cruise, which happened a year after the bridge collapse 🤷🏽‍♀️that Bobby bought the tickets a week ago, so who knows what time period it is in this realm or wherever they’re in right now.  The way things played out, dare I say it but it kind of seems like they’re all still living in Buck’s coma dream but hey, maybe it’s being done on purpose.

Back to the regularly scheduled program…

Reminder, Buck died!  And according to Eddie, he was dead for three minutes and seventeen seconds.  He was literally dead and even though Chimney worked on Buck for three minutes, he couldn’t restart Buck’s heart, only Eddie could and the last seventeen seconds was all him!

These things happened and they’re important but for some reason, Buck’s death along with everything else that happened to him in season 6 are being treated like they didn’t happen or as if they were of no consequence.  In 6x12, Dr. Salazar told Buck that people who have near death experiences either go back to their lives like nothing’s changed or they make a drastic change and quit their jobs, divorce their spouses or they go to Italy.

Well… Buck’s done NEITHER of those things since he’s still doing the same job and he didn’t do anything drastic like move out of the loft or something, just anything other than saying and proclaiming he's happy now all of a sudden.  Him breaking up with Natalia wasn’t drastic since he broke up with Taylor in season 5. It would have been different if it had been his first time choosing something for himself but it wasn't.

IMO, the way his death is being glossed over makes it seem like there’s something else that could happen with Buck after 7x6 airs.  Reminder, there will be a mini hiatus just like there was between 6x12 and 6x13 and everyone should remember the drastic change that took place then.  Buddie and the Buckley-Diaz family were prominent more than any other ship in that episode.  Now, be clear, I’m not saying Buck will have a breakdown (even though he's overdue to have one and him crying over Eddie being shot is not the same thing) but I will say he’s headed for a storm.  Also, his life is paralleling Eddie’s after the shooting and to me it seems off because Buck’s happy but no one knows why or how he got there.  It appears he’s hiding how he truly feels the same way Eddie did before he started panicking followed by his breakdown.  Additionally, it appears Buck’s continuing to parallel Athena’s arc for this season too and if he is then, his fear or whatever has him “terrified” will come into play later in the season (post about Bathena and Buddie parallels linked here).

I fully understand the show only has so much “real estate” per episode, as TM described it but in season 6 (which I know should be a distant memory by now for a lot of reasons), the audience only SAW Buck start things but there wasn’t any resolution to any of them. THEY WERE ALL UNFINISHED BY THE END OF 6X18.

In 6x1, he wanted to be interim captain but that storyline fell off a cliff and wasn’t revisited.

In 6x2, he wanted to be happy and apparently, according to OS and TM, this season he’ll be going after the things that make him happy but NO ONE BUT BUCK knows what those things are.

In 6x4, he thought long and hard about being Connor’s sperm donor but there were two things he said that were left unfinished and unresolved.

When he was at Hen’s house, he told her he didn’t want to turn them down but he never said why.

At the end of the episode, he told Connor and Kameron he didn’t know what he wanted (I still think that was a lie but I digress) but he was willing to give them what they wanted.

The audience doesn’t know why Buck didn’t want to turn them down and if he would have said why, there wouldn't be an issue. Also, he never explained what he wants but I suppose the audience is just supposed to forget all about those two important factors and move on the way Buck has.  As a viewer, wanting answers to close main characters' storylines is a fair request since we’ve all seen Buck repeat the same mistakes and remain on the hamster wheel (OS’s words) for the last three years with no resolution.

In 6x7, he was adamant about donating even though the universe kept screaming at him not to do it and it went so far as to stop his Jeep on the street but he ran there anyway.  Also, only him and Eddie touched the cursed bracelet during that episode but nothing came of that either.

In 6x9, he told the team he was the creator of new life and he had a onesie on the nightstand with an LAFD logo on it but that too went absolutely nowhere (posts linked here and here).

In 6x10, he died!  But also, before he did, he talked a lot about family but no one knows if he wants his own family or if he’s happy with his biological or found or both.

In 6x11, he was in a coma for most of the episode where it was all about him (he was making things about himself again like everyone has told him he does) but when he woke up, he told Bobby there was one thing he couldn’t fix while he was in it but since he didn’t say it, NO ONE KNOWS WHAT THAT IS.

In 6x12, when Eddie asked him if could ask him how he was, Buck replied, “Honestly Eddie… I don’t know”; well, since he didn't say it, neither does the audience.  Also, he went to Maddie’s and told her about his coma dream but the only part the audience heard was that it was never nighttime and the first thing he does when he wakes up is text Bobby.

In 6x13, he knew how to do math and his life appeared to be going where he wanted it to but then, 6x14 happened and his math powers were gone.

In 6x15, aside from meeting the DeAtH dOuLA and telling her about his dream (which the audience didn’t hear then either), he told Eddie while they were in the cemetery, “The truth is… I am different but I feel like I have to be the same old Buck, mostly for the sake of everyone else”.  Is he still being the same old Buck now?  Who knows?

From 6x16 through 6x18, Buck was still acting like the same old Buck then he ended the season in another lackluster boring relationship with someone who he believed SAW him but everyone knows she didn’t see $hit.

Now here’s my main issue and please don’t misunderstand me.  If Buck’s all great and happy, FINE but it’s hard to correlate his new found happiness with everything he’s been through especially since the audience didn’t get to see his journey.  He’s not in therapy and he’s not reading self-help books or whatever anymore so how did he get from point A to point B? Inquiring minds would like to know.

Since the audience remains in the dark, are we supposed to just accept him saying he’s better?  I’m not buying that snake oil they’re selling and my reasoning for it is based on two things.  First, Buck identifies himself as a firefighter but that wasn’t addressed before season 6 ended because IMO it tied in with everything else he experienced.  Also, Buck’s actions in the promos and trailers make it seem like he’s hesitant about something regarding his job.  Could the narrative change?  ABSOLUTELY but if it doesn’t, no one knows if he is or isn’t still struggling.

Reminder, Buck broke up with Natalia but Eddie didn’t know and why is that? Their lack of communication could be due to the wacky time jumps or the miscalculation of them but in any event, they hadn't discussed it even though they're working together again. In 7x1, they kept showing how close they are but there’s obviously some things they still haven’t discussed including Buck’s death.  Please note, Buck is once again paralleling Athena since there’s something she hasn’t told Bobby too. They're both not saying the stuff they should be and if they continue to parallel then all should be revealed soon.

This post is simply to highlight the fact that Buck took another journey but once again, the audience has NO IDEA how he got there just like at the end of season 5 when he finally ended things with Taylor.  Sure he broke up with her but he didn’t do it because he was unhappy, he did it because she did something he probably knew she would do anyway especially since she betrayed the 118 and Bobby in 2x6 so what exactly is the audience supposed to believe?  He’s changed even though we didn’t see it?  I call BS and I think TM is lying just like he did about Eddie’s PTSD.  He said Eddie wouldn’t go through it but a few months later he did and it was important to his healing.

Will anything come of all the things Buck experienced in season 6?  Who knows but apparently the audience is just supposed to roll with the idea that he’s 100% better even though we didn’t see any of it.  Reminder, we saw everyone else’s journey and how they clawed their way back after their breakdowns, i.e., Eddie’s, Maddie’s, Athena’s, Chimney’s and even Bobby’s after he had two, one in 2x16 and one in season 1 after the plane crash but we’re supposed to accept the fact that Evan “Please don’t leave me, I make things about me and I like to fix things” “Buck” Buckley is ok?  NOPE!  I’m not buying it.

[lostsyren]

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆eternal: chapter 4 ‘secrets’

⛐ find full story on ao3 here

❦ extract:

They’d been driving for a couple hours, the digital clock in the car reading 1:54 AM. Rafe watched the rosary beads sway as they sped over potholes, gently rattling in the noiseless interior.

“You called him The Wolf– how did he get that name?” Rafe asked. They’d been silent ever since leaving Mexico City. Sofia sighed, keeping her eye on the road.

“I’ve only heard rumours…bad ones.”

She didn’t elaborate. Rafe glanced over at her side profile. Her jaw was tense, her knuckles gripping the steering wheel.

“Like what?” He pried.

Sofia shook her head. Rafe left it at that, not wanting to annoy her any further. The car radio hummed on with a song he didn’t know, melancholically moaning as they whipped past lofty cable towers and peeling billboards.

Rafe chanced a glance at her. Sofia’s eyes were droopy, her eyelids fluttering every couple seconds or so. He recalled how she was in her pyjamas before she’d changed– she must’ve been exhausted.

“Sofia,” he said quietly, “I think we’ve got far enough away for now.”

She didn’t say anything.

Rafe sniffed, squeezing his knee out of awkwardness, “we’re gonna stop at the next motel we pass, alright?”

“I’m fine. Are you ok?” She asked pointedly.

“You’re practically falling asleep at the wheel.” He snapped back.

“No I’m not.”

“Yeah– you are.”

“I said I was fine, ok? We have 20 hours of driving ahead of us, let’s not waste time.”

“You can’t drive if your eyes are closed.”

Sofia scoffed, “Be quiet Rafe.”

“Really? So we’re just gonna sit in silence for the next 20 hours?”

“Ideally.” Her lips thinned, her eyes still stuck on the road.

“See– your steering is gone to shit.”

Sofia laughed mirthlessly, “my steering is fine.”

“Pull over and let me drive.” He instructed. He didn’t even know why he was egging her on, arguing for the sake of arguing.

“I’m not gonna pull over.” Her tone became colder.

“Then fix your steering.” He realised they were just bickering in circles now, mindlessly, like children. But he didn’t care.

Sofia swivelled her head around to meet his eyes. “It’s my car.”

Rafe reached over to the wheel, causing Sofia to push him back, her palm flat on his abdomen.

“Ow,” he hissed, clutching at his bandaged injury.

“Can you let me drive please.” She muttered.

“Fuck, you gonna elbow me in my bullet wound again if I don’t?”

She rolled her eyes, “it was a scratch, calm down.”

Rafe looked back out on the road, spotting a neon red sign flicker in the distance.

“Look, I think that’s a motel. We should stop.” He said pointing across the windscreen.

“I’m good to drive Rafe.”

“Just stop the fucking car Sofia, we need a break.”

She cast him a glacial glower, her fingers squeezing on the leathered wheel, “whatever.”

They approached the sign, the blazing light fixtures reading ‘DOWNTOWN MOTEL- VACANTE’.

Sofia pulled up into the scantily occupied car park, yanking the keys out of the ignition as the car jerked to a stop. She got out without looking at Rafe once.

He was left in the dark, watching her from the rearview mirror as opened the back door and swiped her bag.

“You coming or not?” She said, before shutting the door, with more force than what was necessary.

Rafe poked his tongue through his cheek, scoffing, before he followed her to the motel’s entrance.

The lighting inside was just as gloomy as it was outside, a linear fixture illuminating the cluttered counter with a sickly yellow glow. An ancient, croaking fan spluttered away in the corner, causing the papers to shuffle about in the trays and the receptionist was too busy cleaning her glasses to notice Rafe and Sofia approach the desk.

Rafe dragged himself inside, scuffing the matted carpet with his shoes, patterned in swirling colours of muted blues and greens that probably looked more vibrant in its early days, but now were more brown than anything. Sofia took the lead, tapping her fingers restlessly against the dusty counter.

“Disculpe,” she said, trying to get the old lady’s attention.

The receptionist jumped up, clearly startled, breaking into a smile when she saw Sofia.

“Perdón cariño, en que puedo ayudarte?” She said, her eyes scanning them up and down. Sofia suddenly grabbed his arm, becoming effervescent and clingy, beginning to converse with the lady in Spanish. Rafe’s eyes darted to Sofia in an instant, mouth opening in confusion. What was she doing? Her hand rested on his bicep, her body tickling his. If he wasn’t completely and utterly perplexed at the situation, Rafe felt like he could’ve combusted at this sudden inundation of intimacy.

“Tu eres una linda pareja.” Said the lady, to which Sofia gushed into a smile that Rafe could tell was fabricated.

“Muchas gracias,” Sofia enthused, bringing her other hand to trail up and down Rafe’s chest, her fingernails scraping down his sensitive skin inciting a flutter of butterflies that travelled down into his stomach.

Rafe quickly lost track of what her and the receptionist were saying, his thoughts preoccupied with the way Sofia’s soft frame pressed against his own rigid one. He willed himself to not loose focus, her arm tightened against his own not helping at all. This was taking longer than he expected, Sofia and the lady going back and forth for what seemed like ages.

“Gracias,” Sofia finally said, accepting the key after sliding her some cash for the room. She headed off towards the shadowy staircase at the back of the reception lobby– the elevator had a dingy ‘No Funciona’ sign taped to it. Sofia was still cuddling Rafe as if she wasn’t just arguing with him in the car. It was only when they got away from the reception did she drop his arm, making some space between the two.

“What was that about?” Rafe asked, when they were far enough away from the lady. Sofia led him down the narrow, dimly lit corridor, the green glass sconces drenching the walls in a creepy absinthe hue.

“Don’t worry about it.” She muttered, stopping in front of room 113, the key mutedly jangling in her hands.

Sofia opened the door with a small squeak of the rusty hinges, to a middling sized room, a bed at the centre.

“One bed huh? You suddenly ok with me enough to sleep together?”

“Asking for separate rooms would’ve looked too suspicious.” She said, cryptically entering the space, Rafe following behind her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The furniture was dated, as was the decor– faded orange wallpaper, pine wood tables, floral bed sheets. The lampshade cast a honey coloured light across it all, making it seem almost cozy.

“People here only use motels for one thing.” Sofia placed her bag on the worn armchair in the corner.

“What thing?”

She sighed, “let’s just say that the receptionist thought we made a cute couple.”

Rafe’s eyebrows quirked upwards, quickly getting what she was insinuating. “Oh.”

That’s why she was acting all weird. Rafe couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

Her movements stilled. “Sorry. I should’ve said something before I pounced on you like that.”

Rafe stood awkwardly at the centre of the room, watching Sofia as she looked up at him, almost shyly.

“Don’t worry…I didn’t mind it.” He said with a heaviness he didn’t intend. The atmosphere of the shabby space changed, becoming loaded with unsaid words and a familiar tension.

“I’m gonna get some sleep then.” She said finally, with a deep sigh.

Rafe nodded. “Imma take a shower. Get all the dried blood off me,” he chuckled darkly. If he wasn’t wearing a black shirt, then it would’ve been a real problem. He was sure the receptionist wouldn’t have appreciated the 6-foot something, blood soaked touron who just waltzed in.

He entered the bathroom, giving Sofia one final look. She was too busy rooting through her bag to notice. Rafe let in a deep, unsteady breath, an unexplainable sadness stirring in him. He switched on the bathroom light, the generator whirring to life dousing the yellow tiles in a weak illumination, as he shut the door behind him, letting his body sag against the wall.

He reached into his back pocket, slipping out the little plastic bag he had with fiddly fingers.

A couple grams remained.

He drew up a swift line of cocaine on the bathroom counter, swooping down to inhale it just as quickly. Rafe threw his head back with a muffled groan. He’d been waiting for a moment he could slip away, jitters rattling through his bones in the car. He’d desperately withheld himself, the urge to just make a line on the dashboard right in front of Sofia becoming soul consuming. That’s the main reason he’d pestered her to stop the car. The guilt hit him along with the high.

Rafe peeled off his filthy shirt and stepped into the too-small bathtub, with its short shower head that forced him to bend his body if he wanted to get clean. Rafe twisted the valve, hot water hitting his grimy skin.

Closing his eyes, wincing slightly as the water soaked through his bandages, Rafe tried to ignore how shitty he felt, the knowledge that Sofia was outside, waiting for him acting like a soothing balm to his anxieties. The coke helped too.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[pocketramblr]

Ask game, please! Dracula AU where Jonathan is a werewolf. It doesn’t end well (well, even sooner) for the count.

Ok love this also we're throwing werewolf lore in a blender to make this work and kinda fit the original novel. Kinda.

1- ok so Bram Stoker was Irish so our dear friend Jonathan is a descendent of Laignech Fáelad and the werewolves of Ossory, though one who's family has been in England for at least several generations now. Also, these are the "astral projection of spirit in the form of wolves" type of werewolves described in Nennius of Bangor's Historia Britonum, similar to the ones Augustine of Hippo say are possible through God to fight evil because uh whatever Christianity thing is going on in Dracula.

2- So when Jonny boy shows up to Transylvania and all the locals are freaked out about something, he looks in his Romanian to English dictionary and sees they're using a word that means either vampire or werewolf. And then he wonders if the Count is a werewolf too, and is curious about how that works here- the only other werewolves he ever knew were his mother and grandfather, but they are tragically long dead since he's an orphan who sees his boss as a parental figure. So when he hears wolves in the woods, he's not too concerned yet. When a woman presses a rosary into his hand, he awkwardly takes it and wonders if she'd be superstitious of him too, if she knew- but he really wants to meet the Count!

3- but then he meets the Count. And the Count does have the ability to somewhat control wolves... But he really also sets them off. They don't like him. And Jonathan? His inner wolf does not like this guy, it's unnatural, it's bad, he wants to bite but!! He can't do that, he's a real lawyer now and Mina would be so disappointed if he used his first customer as a chew toy. So he grins and bears it, wondering if it's just a territory thing, and wondering if the castle is so empty because the rest of the Count's family is out in wolf form. But... Where are the servants or anyone else?

4- Eerily, Jon goes to sleep, and his human body is left behind in his bed while his spirit pops out in wolf form. He can't smell anyone. Just the Count, and three faint scents, but they don't smell human. They don't even smell like real wolves. They smell like long dead corpses. Still nervous, Jon curls up in the corner and tries to get some rest as a wolf.

But then the Count comes in while he's "sleeping", getting close to the bed and frowning at the rosary. Jonathan's spirit werewolf has had enough and just jumps up, lunging on instinct to protect his human form.

A wolf battle commences, but Dracula hasn't had to put up an actual fight in so long, and Jonathan has the power of God and anime on his side so he wins- and the lady vampires drop dead from their connection to the Count. Freaking out about the murder, Jonny returns to his human body and runs.

5- when he returns to the town a day later, ragged and panicked, when the town hears about all four vampires being dead... They throw a party of a "funeral", everyone swears up and down that the Count and his family tragically died of a wolf attack the day before Jonathan got in and he found their bodies when the coach took him to the castle, and he's sent home bewildered but his boss is like "wow that really sucks, I'm sorry you had such a horribly unlucky first case, let's keep you close to home from now on. Also is your hair white now?"

No vampires travel into England, Jonathan is worried that his wolf form now being stark white is a bad omen, but Mina just pets him behind his ears and says she thinks it's cute, oh, also, Lucy wrote her about one Doctor Van Helsing that a friend of hers knows, he heard about the strange wolf attacks in Romania and blamed it on vampires, can you believe?

[rocks-in-my-vodka]

truly highlights the abusive hypocrisy of catholicism wherein they revere the mother mary and diabolically abuse their own women in ways tht would cause even the devil to look away in shame. “immaculate” from start to finish had no intention of being palatable to any audience and played on the offence in every.single.shot. the symbolism of her taking down the reverend mother, the pope-y guy and the father using symbols of devotion (the cross, the rosary beads, fire and the nail) was… immaculate. it’s a disturbing watch for sure, but i loved that the ultimate message of the film was taking back agency, pro choice at its best. to prey on young vulnerable women to drug them and force them to carry a child without their consent, and then discard them like objects if they can’t carry it??? and to say it’s all in the name of god?? insane. i love tht the turning point in the film was when tht popey guy said “if this is not gods plan y doesn’t he stop us” which made cecilia’s blood boil so much she just went “okay i’ll show you how god stops this motherfucker” because rlly thts when she realised these ppl don’t even believe in god they’re just deranged lunatics torturing women. and in the end the symbolism of killing the demon tht they put inside her, taking back control, turning the tables on the catholic glorification of women’s suffering… film of the fucking year. the entire time everyone pampered her and praised her but it wasn’t her, they only cared about what was inside her. in the opening shot the nun who tries to escape prays to mary, not jesus, the entire film they care abt the male child inside her, when she almost drowns they check the baby first, they reassure her tht the baby’s ok, but SHE ISNT OKAY. the ending was one of the most satisfying endings ever. it really reversed the trope on the labour of child birth frm smth to be glorified to really showing it for wht it is, a horribly gory procedure. the catholic church and christianity as a whole prove time and again (through their actions even in the real world) that god may or may not exist, but the devil surely does.

i can see why sydney fought to get this movie released since 2014. sydney sweeney immaculATE

[violet-silverblood]

Just saw The Last Voyage of The Demeter. It's possibly the best movie I've seen this summer but considering the majority of releases this year, it's like being one of the tallest dwarves.

There were some major changes I was ok with becuase it's an adaptation and somethings will have to be changed and some major changes that I completely despised.

It would also be more accurate to say the movie was inspired by the Ship's Log than it being based on the log. It's probably really good if you're not heavily inversted in the source material, and are also at least tipsy or gently high. If you are heavily invested in the source material and not under any influences, it's a solid B- or B+ monster movie but doesn't crack an A-.

SPOILERS BELOW

They added a child and stowaway to the crew. The kid's name was Toby and was the Captain's grandson, he was presumably added so Dracula can drain and turn him for additional tragedy points and doesn't make it. The stowaway's name is Anna and she was in one of the boxed of earth, it broke open during a storm and she fell out with some of the dirt. She was apparently sacrificed to Dracula as part of a treaty between her old village and Dracula, she also turns into a vampire and doesn't make it.

There is one survivor of the voyage, an English doctor (Clemens) who's goal is to find and kill Dracula. He's kinda interesting but probably not enough to get them the sequal they're clearly leaving the door open for.

The crew knows that A, there was at least one person in the boxes and B, that there is some creature on board that's killing the crew basically a day after they leave port. Some crew members actually see Dracula the same day they find Anna. Them having this infromation so early really raises some questions about why they didn't open all the crates and stir the dirt to make sure there weren't any other surprises, and also makes the first mate look really stupid that he refuses to acknowledge that there's clearly something wrong. In making this change they unintentionally removed a lot of the psychological torment that Dracula puts them through in the early stages of the arc.

And then there's Dracula's design/powers. So in the log he's described as tall, thin, pale, and, most important for this rant, a man. In the movie he's this withered, gargoyle-esce, thing with gray skin, long ass fingers and fucking wings. He's also always naked. Like for nearly the whole movie, he's not wearing a single fucking scrap of fabric on his old wrinkled nasty ass body. The only time's he's clothed is the literal last scene where Clemens sees and follows him. His powers are also noticably changed. He's only mist once during the final fight instead of being mist for several days and completely preventing them from knowing where the fuck they are or what time it is. He's always flying around and landing on people to eat them and spill like half the blood in the process like a child who doesn't undertand silverware yet. The sun makes vampires catch on fire too, like "bathed in gasoline and lit a match" catching on fire, which doesn't track with the source material at all.

The final thing they changed is the Captain's death. Instead of lashing himself to the wheel and holding a rosary/praying to prevent Dracula from messing with him as he dies and steering the Demeter to shore afterwards, he's tied to the wheel in a crucifix pose (by Dracula? Idk scene was full of cuts so it's not clear), gets untied by Clemens and them slumps against the wheel with a very loose rope around his waist as his only connection to it. That's how they interpreted that man's death. Sitting down leaning on the wheel and talking to someone becasue Anna and Clemens hadn't died yet. Changing that scene and it's context completely changes the meaning and themes of his death from a defiant grudging acception of fate and a fuck you to the creature that drove his crew mad and killed them, to a weak acquiescence to fate's cruel whims and Dracula's eventual success.

We're not even told how the ship got to shore, it just crashes into the beach by the harbor. Dracula was pinned to the mast by part of the rigging and the Captain certainly isn't pulling off any post mortem sailing.

I swear it feels like the editors had this conversation; "How did it get to shore?" "Who cares, all that it matters is that it did right? It's not like people are deeply invested in this book and this arc specifically." "Yeah, no one will care, they probably won't even notice that it doesn't make sense."

Like I know things would be changed but I didn't thing they'd tamper with the most powerful and thematically important scene and its consiquences that stick with people long after the arc is over.

[blushcoloreddreams]

Good tidings! I'd like to ask about how you maintain time for prayer/worship while being a med student and likely very busy--it's so impressive you're doing everything at once and I've love some advice if you're willing! Thank you~ ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

Hi! Thanks you so much for the kind words! I’d like to start this by saying that my routine is far from perfect, it’s not every day that I can accomplish everything I planned on and I have my bad days as well. Remember that what you see on the internet is only the portion of people’s lives they choose to share so please don’t compare yourself but here’s a list of things that help:

1. Consistency over perfection

In the modern world we have a lot going on, and sometimes we are not going to be able to do everything and that’s ok! I know that sometimes we see Christian influencers going to church multiple times a week, doing over and hour long bible studies and having this elaborate prayer routine and even if that is truly beautiful it’s not achievable for all of us. A little heartfelt prayer before bed or just an “Our Father” when you wake up is better than nothing at all. Also don’t let these days that you can’t do it feel like you are less worthy of God’s love or that you should just stray away from religion because you were not able to dedicate as much time as you wanted to. To quote St. Thérèse of Lisieux

Remember that nothing is small in the eyes of God. Do all that you do with love

2. Have a routine

Routines are the best way to build habits, open a space in your routine to pray. As stated before it doesn’t need to be something huge, as a kid I’d start my mornings with the triad of « Our Father », « Hail Mary » and the Guardian Angel’s prayer followed by a more personal prayer with the things I was thankful for and my intentions/ wishes for the day, and when I grew up I also added the Apostles creed. Its not as long as it seems and it’s enough to set the day. I like to do it in an morning because it’s a moment i have for myself without the rush of studying and my routine has started. Take your holy day seriously, if you are Catholic really go to church on Sundays, if you are Protestant it might be Saturdays, but this weekly moments with God will make a difference. When you have extra time longer prayers like praying the rosary and taking some time reading the Bible is great. You can find a lot of yearly bible reads planners, dividing it in 365 chunks makes it feel way more feasible than trying to speed run it, and already moving to the next top if you compromise to do it with someone it will also be easier and more fun.

3. Have Christian friends

One of the things that really helps me is one of my best friends, she’s not only very knowledgeable about theology but she introduced me to a other young people and also from other ages that shared the same faith as me. It’s great to have someone you can be with in your religious journey. I love going to mass, praying the rosary and doing bible studies with them or even just sharing silly Catholic memes, books (Catholic or not) and experiences. Having people around you that you can talk about more spiritual things and be with you when you are drifting away is one of the things that will really lighten that path for you. It in your personal life (school, work etc etc) you don’t have a lot of friends like that church groups are a way you can meet new people like you

[donner-mathis-official]

Time to think about Molly because all of the characters in this game drive me insane with the little tidbits we get to know about them.

Ok so it’s pretty clearly hinted at that her husband was a terrible man that she didn’t want to marry (“I could have been something!”, really the whole conversation about his death), and directly stated that she very intentionally left him to die.

There are two things about her, though, that I really find fascinating. They’re more theory than outright, but I think I can back them up. Those are:

1) Molly tried to get out of the relationship as best she could with what she was given, long before the events of the game.

2) Molly knows that her murder spree is morally questionable, but has decided that even if it’s wrong, if she saves someone else from being hurt by a bad man, then it’s worth it.

Let’s start with the first one.

I firmly believe she talked to Father Thomas at some point about her relationship. He’s a religious leader, and, based on the fact that he was the one to gather people into the community centre, is probably a community leader as well. The type of person you go to when you need help. Molly says Father Thomas won’t help Astrid (indirectly but she has been roaming Pleasant Valley for a week post-first flare at time of our first entrance, so she must know he’s the only one there when she says “nobody there will help you”), and it tracks that he likely would not have helped her out of that relationship. Most Christian sects, to my knowledge, are against divorce to some degree, and we’ve seen that Father Thomas has no qualms with pushing his religious views onto others (making Astrid take the rosary). All of this together means it’s highly likely Molly tried to get out the “right” way first. She did everything she was supposed to, and still found herself stuck. Given that scenario, it’s obvious why, when the wolves gave her an out, she took it.

As for her knowing what she’s doing is wrong, I’d like to point to her asking if Mackenzie is one of the good ones. I absolutely love this line, because it says so much about who she is. It’s her offering Astrid something she was never given; a chance to get out. It’s her acknowledging that there are good men, and that she doesn’t want to kill them. That she only wants to kill the ones that will hurt people like she was hurt. Then following that up with “then I hope I never meet him”? This is probably my favorite exchange in Wintermute because it’s so short and direct yet says volumes. She wants Astrid to be happy and find her good one again. She would rather a risk a good man dying than a bad man going free. This isn’t just a revenge quest against any man she thinks is bad; it’s her trying, in her own way, to keep people safe and make the world better. This shows too, in her choice to leave Father Thomas alive. He’s a sitting duck, with no way of protecting himself. She could have killed him. She clearly holds contempt for him, and if you subscribe to the first theory I posited, he’s a large factor in why she had to stay in that horrible marriage. But she chose to leave Father Thomas alive, and I think that’s in no small part because she knows that those plane crash victims need him. That even if he screwed her over, he’s making the world better right now.

Anyways I love her and I think more women should kill people

[sunshine-on-marz]

“Soon you’ll get better.”

Taylor swift song fic

SBI angst.

Tw: unspecified sickness, mentions of hospitals, death, and medication, lots of crying and screaming. Religion/ religious trauma

————

They knew something was wrong as soon as Wilbur started coughing. Phil offered him water, but he was struggling to breathe. Techno noticed right away, running to his brothers side to help him sit down, Phil, seeing how pale his son was immediately rushed to grab his keys and a coat for Tommy, tommy was the only one who wast wearing a sweater. He’d taken it off that morning, it made Wilbur laugh when techno tried fruitlessly to get the blonde to put it back on. But as they drove the hospital, Wilbur incessantly saying that he’s fine as his voice cracked from the strain of simply talking, tommy fiddled with the coat buttons and the locks of his hair that fell barely to his collar. In the hospital, it was loud, and so was Tommy, but for the first time he could remember he didn’t like the loud. Techno had him propped up on his hip, holding Tommy like he was nothing, because in that moment no weight was heavier than the what if’s that paced their mind the same way so many desperate people paced the halls.

Tommy used to love the color orange. That was until he saw the pill bottles. There were always so many. One in the kitchen, one in the living room, one in the medicine cabinet, one in Wilbur’s bedroom. Always in reach, in case his brother almost died again. If there was one thing he hated more than the color orange it was knowing that his brother was hurting, and knowing that he was completely helpless to that hurt. But Tommy would never tell Wilbur how scared he was, but he would tell God. The people in the waiting room that first visit, some had rosaries, some were just holding their hands together just as tightly as Tommy had been holding onto techno. But now Tommy was praying too. He’s always thought it was stupid, preferring to listen to his brothers talk about the Greek and Roman gods rather than go to church, but right now he was desperate. So he begged a God he didn’t trust, to help his brother, he didn’t trust anyone anymore, he couldn’t, not until Wilbur’s promises of being ok were fulfilled.

The hospital trips were getting more and more grim, and Wilbur’s reassurances were getting more and more shaky. Tommy knew he was the only one who still had any faith in them being true, but if he lost hope then he was accepting losing Wilbur, and if he lost Wilbur he’d lose himself. So when Wilbur hugged him and said “I’ll be better soon kid” tommy would always whisper back “you’ll get better soon” but what he’d leave out is “you have to.”

Tommy cried in school for the first time when Techno burst into his classroom saying Wilbur had collapsed again. It was delusional to think they could escape it happening anywhere but their house, somehow that’s exactly what had been happening for the past few years, but it really sunk in just how bad it was when he saw his puffy eyes in the hospital bathroom mirror. Phil went home that night to get the necessities, but he also brought Wilbur’s laptop. Wilbur, with his shaking hands and cracking lips would insist on helping tommy play the sims. They’d pretend it wasn’t real, the hospital that is. They’d make fun of Tommy for accidentally picking a neon color for the kitchen walls, tommy said it matches the sky. Some of the nurses would tell Wilbur that all the screen time wasn’t helping him, but Techno would tell them to fuck off. Wilbur had some favorite nurses, tommy couldn’t remember many of the names, so he just called those ones the “nice nurses”. One name he did remember was nurse Andrea, a kind woman who always say Wilbur was “making the best of a bad deal”. Wilbur told her about Tommy’s accomplishments as if he was a proud parent, and the blonde would sit with teary eyes as Wilbur told Andrea how proud of a brother he was. Andrea hugged Tommy that night as he cried in the hallway, she promised him that Wilbur was as comfortable as he could be right now, and that helped, as much as it could help right now.

The day they were told to say their goodbyes Tommy cried harder than he ever had. And Wilbur just held him. “Who am I supposed to talk to? What am I supposed to do?” He sobbed, and Wilbur kissed his blonde curls and smiled with teary eyes “you have techno. And Tom, you’ll always have me.”

That night was the last night they saw Wilbur before the funeral

At the funeral people kept promising that one day things would feel ok again, but Tommy knew they wouldn’t.

So he kneeled at his brothers coffin and whispered

“You’ll get better soon. ‘Cause you have to.”

—————

RAHHHHH IM SORRY YALL BUT THERES SO MUCH MORE ANGST THIS DOES WELL I’LL POST THEM

@canonically-a-genloser L you have to have your weekly sad angst breakdown live on tumblr

[impala-dreamer]

Captives of The Court - Chapter Nine

A Supernatural Series

~Strange things are brewing in Connecticut, so Dean and Y/N go check it out. After stumbling through town, they fall into something that’s been going on a very, very long time. Can they put an end to the bloodshed and make it out unscathed or will they need a little help this time?~

Starring Dean Winchester x Y/N Y/L/N

Series Warnings and Info may be found on the Masterlist Here 

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

Y/N looked through the window of the little shop and nodded to herself. “Crystals and fuckery.”

Dean cocked his head and peered through as well. The sill was lined with gemstones and crystals that glittered in the setting sun, jars of herbs and hanging things that made him sigh. “Seems so. Ready?”

She shrugged. “Don’t touch anything.” She wagged a finger in warning. “This can’t be a coincidence and I don’t feel like getting cursed, OK?”

He grinned. “When do I ever touch anything I shouldn’t? I’m a professional.”

He reached for the door and Y/N ticked off incidences on her fingers.

“Well, that time in Richmond where you picked up that cursed coin… Minot when you touched that painting and your skin started melting off… The rosary in Peekskill…”

Dean huffed. “I get the point. I won’t touch anything. I promise.”

Bells chimed as they entered and a short, perky redhead looked up from behind the counter.

“Welcome!” Her smile was bright. “How can I help you?”

Dean screwed on a charming smile and walked towards her as Y/N turned left, scanning the place.

“Hi,” he greeted, tugging his fake badge from his jacket. “Agent Don Henley. We’re in town investigating some homicides. Wanted to ask you a few questions about an ex employee of yours.”

The girl swallowed hard and her blue eyes went wide. “Oh! Um. I’m not- I don’t work- I mean, I work here but I’m not the owner.” She smiled up at Dean. “I’m Lydia. I just work here on Tuesdays and Thursdays after school.”

Dean nodded and smiled back, still charming his way in. He leaned down and set an elbow on the countertop. “Lydia. Lovely name. Tell me, did you know Lisa Abbot?”

Lydia cringed but tried to hide it. She stiffened, straightening up to her full height of just over five feet. “N-not really. I mean, she worked here for a while but I never really talked to her much. She was really quiet and stuff. Wasn’t until she met Dan that she opened up at all.”

“Dan?”

“Dan Thacher. He um…”

Dean squinted and rolled the name around in his head for a quick second before pinpointing the familiarity. “He was found with Lisa… Ah.”

Lydia bowed her head slightly. “Yeah. It was real sad.”

“I bet it was.” Dean pressed his lips together and leaned closer, gaining her attention and trust. “Why don’t you tell me more about them?”

Meanwhile, Y/N was searching the shop, mentally sorting through what was novelty magic and what was potentially dangerous. A few things stood out, but for the most part, it was oils and herbs and crystals wrapped in wire and hung on leather necklaces. Some stones with protection sigils carved into them stood out on a back shelf and Y/N leaned close, squinting at the talismans.

In the farthest corner, she spied an amethyst with what appeared to be Enochian writing etched onto each side. She reached for it, but pulled back at the last second, remembering her warning and admonishment of Dean’s habit of touching everything shiny.

“You can pick it up if you’d like.”

Startled, Y/N stood and turned to see an absolutely stunning woman staring back at her. “Uh-” Her jaw went slack as the woman took a step closer. “N-no, that’s alright.” She smiled but her brain couldn’t quite click back into working order.

The woman was breathtaking. Long golden brown hair hung past her slender shoulders; milky skin shone with a rosy undertone, and the plumpest, pinkest lips Y/N had ever seen curled into a gentle smile. Her eyes were gray but picked up every color around her like a kaleidoscope and Y/N got lost for a moment, staring in deep, desperate to name a color and lock her into a category.

“Please, go ahead.”

Her voice was sweet and heavy like honey and Y/N shook herself to break away.

“No,” she said again, taking a step back and clearing her throat. “But thank you.” Digging into her purse, she pulled her badge out and flashed it quickly. “Agent Smyth, FBI. And you are?”

A flash of pink tongue through a sly smile. “Welcome, Agent. My name is Bronwyn, this is my little shop.” She held out her arms and gestured to the shelves. The bell sleeves of her lilac dress waved like butterfly wings and Y/N found it hard to focus. “How can I help you?”

Y/N blinked slowly, her gaze drawn upwards to the cinched bustline of Bronwyn’s dress and the perfect curve of her breasts. “Uh…”

It wasn’t like her to be so easily distracted, especially by a woman, but Y/N was struggling to keep her mind clear and not stare too hard at the delicate flesh of Bronwyn’s throat or the way her hands moved so languidly through the air almost in slow motion.

“Um…”

Bronwyn laughed gently and Y/N snapped back into the moment.

She squared her shoulders and inhaled deeply, a mixture of dried herbs wafting through her head. “Well,” she began again, forcing herself to look anywhere but into the woman’s eyes. “We’re here to talk about… the… Lisa. Lisa Abbot. She used to work here.”

Bronwyn frowned gently. “Yes, what a tragedy. She was the sweetest young woman…”

“Anything you can tell me about her that might help us piece together what happened?”

Pink lips puckered and Y/N’s heart skipped.

“Well, I just don’t think I have any relevant information, Agent, I’m sorry.”

For some reason, Y/N believed her and couldn’t come up with a single question more. “Oh well.” She smiled and fell into staring again.

Dean’s laugh tugged her away and Y/N looked across the shop. He was fine, flirting with the college student and basically doing nothing of import. Y/N shook her head at him.

Bronwyn zoned in on the moment.

“Your partner?” she asked, eyeing Dean.

Y/N bit her lip and tried not to smile too hard. “Yeah. Um. Yes. He’s my partner. We, uh, work together.”

Bronwyn grinned knowingly. “There’s a bit more to it, I think.”

Y/N laughed. “What are you, psychic?”

She shrugged and waved her hands dramatically. “A witch. But, I can tell… you have strong feelings for him.”

Just then, Dean looked over his shoulder and caught Y/N’s eye. He smiled and her cheeks burned.

“And he for you, I see…”

Y/N nodded noncommittally, still trying to maintain her professional con. “I suppose.”

Bronwyn moved closer, slipping up against Y/N, and lay a hand on her shoulder. The touch was electric and Y/N sucked in a deep breath.

“You’re in love,” Bronwyn continued, her voice a sultry whisper in Y/N’s mind. “You both are.”

Y/N sighed happily. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Ready to settle down and start a family…”

That made Y/N jolt awake and she laughed, moving back a pace. “Uh, no.”

“You wouldn’t want to have his child?” She looked over at Dean. “He’s gorgeous. Strong, caring, brave…”

Y/N agreed, staring at her lover. “He is, yes. But… I mean, it’s not like I wouldn’t have his kid, I just… I don’t want to.” Suddenly annoyed, she turned back to the witch and crossed her arms defensively. “Why is it some imperative thing that I have a baby? Just because I’m a woman I have to have children to fulfill some societal task? Conform to everyone’s idea of a contented female? I love him, he loves me, that’s enough.” She shook herself and calmed a bit, not sure why she was being so blunt with a stranger. “Besides, our lives- the way we live… it-it wouldn’t be fair to bring a baby into any of it.”

Bronwyn watched her spin out, interest in her gray eyes. “Government go you down, huh?”

Y/N shrugged. “Something like that.”

Her hand fell to Y/N’s shoulder again and a warmth spread through her body.

“I think things will change soon,” Bronwyn whispered. “You just have to let them.”

The warmth traveled her system, and Y/N smiled dreamily. “Maybe… yeah…”

“Love is a powerful thing, Y/N. Touch, sex, conception… creation…”

Something stirred in Y/N and her nose scrunched up. “How do you know my-”

Dean appeared before them both, his gaze immediately drawn to Bronwyn’s ample bosom. “Well, hello…”

Y/N jerked away from the witch’s touch and spun to stand beside Dean. She brushed his hand with hers and shivered.

“I… think we got all we need,” she said, tugging on Dean’s sleeve.

He did not seem interested in leaving just yet, but Y/N cleared her throat. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Cromwell.”

Bronwyn bowed gently and smiled. “If you need anything else, you know where I am.”

Y/N raced to the Impala and locked the door as soon as she was inside. She rubbed her palms down her thighs, ground her teeth tight, breathed slow and steadily.

Dean ambled behind her, taking his time.

She watched him approach, eyes wide with unease. His strides were terribly short, his bowed legs moving like slugs as she waited impatiently.

Once he was inside, she reached over and slammed the lock shut with a quick slap.

Dean jolted back in surprise. “You OK? You seem spooked.”

She crashed back into her side of the car. “Yeah, I’m spooked! How are you not?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Seemed OK in there. Standard new agey crap. Chick at the counter was clueless.”

Y/N swallowed hard and looked out of the window, staring at the little shop. “That was not standard crap, Dean. There was some major mojo in there. Including that… Bronwyn person.”

Dean grinned. “That Bronwyn woman,” he corrected. “I’ve never seen you so… taken with a girl before. Gotta say, it was pretty hot.”

“Excuse me?”

“It was workin’ for me is all…”

“I wasn’t taken,” she snit, “I mean- she was… beautiful but-” Her mind churned and her skin prickled with dangerous arousal.

“But?”

“But my bat hasn’t swung that way since senior year of high school and it ain’t gonna again any time soon.”

Dean clicked his tongue. “Shame. You two woulda been… so hot together.”

“Yeah, well…” She huffed and crossed her arms over herself, hiding away while her worry grew. “Look, I don’t want to be super obvious but I’m pretty sure she’s why we’re here.”

“You think?” Dean tipped his head to the side, looking at her and the shop at the same time.

“You don’t?”

He shrugged. “You’re the one that talked to her. You’re the one’s been having feelings around town. If you say we got something, I believe you.”

A trickle of relief ran down her spine and she relaxed into the worn leather seat. “Thank you.”

Dean leaned across the seat and nudged her thigh with the back of his hand. “How about… we grab some food, head back to the motel, slip you out of that blazer, and play some naked Twister?”

He winked and she softened, letting go of her nerves and laughing.

“Naked Twister, huh? You really wanna get your right hand on red, dontcha?”

He grinned, all teeth and ideas. “Always.”

Dean was pretty skilled with chopsticks that night but not so much at getting Y/N naked. She was too intent on digging through town records and researching until her eyes were tearing and weary.

The take out was good though, and he was content with slurping down lo mein and scrolling through hospital records.

Some hours in, Y/N threw her hands up and tossed her head back, dramatic and whiny and done. She growled loudly and Dean popped his head up, a noodle hanging from his lips.

“You ‘aight?”

“No!” She pouted and rubbed at her eyes. “I hate this place. I hate this computer. I hate fuckin’- cold Chinese food.” She pushed at the half-empty carton of rice. “I hate murders and witches and stupid dead people. I hate it!”

Not wanting to be another thing that she hated, Dean simply nodded silently and sucked in the dangling noodle. He stood up and went to the mini fridge, pulling out two icy beers and popping the caps off. He perched one on Y/N’s shoulder.

“I think you need a break,” he said softly.

She took the beer but sneered up at him. “I think you need a break, break guy.”

He laughed. “Great come back.”

“Shut up.”

Dean sighed and gave her a moment to lament her choices in life. As he did, he scanned her computer screen and something caught his eye.

“This what you’re working on?”

It was rhetorical and Y/N rolled her eyes as he leaned in and pulled the laptop closer.

“I was trying to match the carvings on the bodies but I’m coming up pretty short. They’re almost like partial symbols and I can’t get them to make sense. It’s like doing a puzzle without the edge pieces.”

Green eyes squinted and a long finger poked at the screen, pressing against one symbol. “Well, I recognize that one.”

Y/N perked up, scooting her chain in and shaking off the fatigue. “What? What is it?”

Dean stood up and took a sip from his beer. “I don’t know what it is, but that witchy lady had it tattooed on her left wrist.”

Her jaw dropped. “What?”

He shrugged and pulled up his sleeve. “Yeah. Like, right here. It was faded, and there was an extra little squiggly line in between the triangles, but it was there. About an inch below her wrist. You didn’t notice?”

Y/N’s memory blurred and she bit her lip. “No. I was a little… OK, a lot distracted. How did you see that?”

He winked. “I’m very observant.”

“You were staring at her tits and got lucky.”

“So were you…”

She slapped his arm and he huffed, going back to his seat.

“Anyway- what is it?”

Y/N clicked away at the keyboard and shook her head. “Not sure, since you said there was another line to it-”

“A squiggle.”

“A squiggle.” She rolled her eyes again. “But if it’s the two triangles pointed like that… it basically symbolizes fertility and the connection between the male and female elements in the universe.”

Dean tipped the bottle back and took a sip. “So, it’s a sex thing.”

“It’s not a sex thing.” She sat back, eyes on the screen, and took a drink. “OK, it’s not not a sex thing. But what does that have to do with the bodies piling up? And why was that… woman… all up on me? It was creepy. She was asking about us having a baby.”

Dean choked on his swallow. “She what?”

“Yeah. Going on about how I should want to have your baby and how much in love we are and yada yada. It was gross and frankly a little misogynistic and outdated and-”

A switch flipped in her head and Y/N fell silent, staring at the space between her and the computer screen.

Having seen this before, Dean waited patiently for her to return to reality.

She gasped.

“What’d ya get?” he asked, enjoying her thought process. It was almost as if he could see an actual lightbulb flickering on above her head.

“Outdated.”

He cocked a brow. “Huh?”

“Outdated. This whole town is kinda… outdated. It’s clean and fresh. Everyone’s happy, and way too beautiful and young and- Well… It’s kinda… stuck in time, don't you think?”

He shrugged. “I guess. What does that have to do with us having a kid? Which, again, we should discuss because frankly-”

Caught in her rambling mind, she stood up and spun, waving him off. “I already told you, I’m not getting pregnant. Not unless Chris Evans walks in here and asks nicely.”

Dean scoffed. “Asks nicely?”

She shrugged. “I mean- it’s… Captain America.”

He was on his feet in an instant, beer wobbling on the table where he dropped it. “Captain America?” He stalked towards her, eyes narrowed and tongue darting. “What’s he got that I don’t got?”

Twinkle in her eye, Y/N spun towards him and batted her lashes. “Oh, couple million bucks and an ass you could bounce a quarter off of.”

Dean tensed up, squeezing his muscles. “You can bounce quarters off me.”

“I could bounce a nerf ball off you, perhaps…”

Growling with interest, he leaned down and licked at her lips. Y/N shuddered and craned her neck up to him, wanting his kiss, wanting everything.

He cupped her cheek and wrapped his right arm around her back, drawing her even closer. She mewed as his tongue passed her lips, melting for him.

“Oh fuck…” Her body responded, tightening and heating up. As his kiss deepened, the light throbbing between her thighs caught her attention and she pushed at his chest, breaking away. “Wait. We can’t.”

He pouted. “What?”

“We’re working,” she whined. “I wanna get this shit done.”

Dean dropped a hand to grab her ass. “And I wanna get this shit done…”

The force of his grip sent a tingle through her but Y/N stayed strong. She clapped her hand on his shoulder and twisted away.

“I’m sorry, but we’re almost done. Just gotta figure out the why and the where and we can go cap this bitch.”

Dean sighed dramatically. “If you’re even sure it’s her.”

The memory of Bronwyn’s touch flooded her mind and Y/N grit her teeth against it. “Oh, I’m sure.”

[thaleleah]

ok. let's do this!

GREAT INTRO

/You think you should have - should have let him bleed to death on the clinic floor. Would God have abandoned you if you had?/ Oh my god, what's he going to do to you girl.

/“Don’t you worry,” You say. “The Lord is here with us. He will see you through. ”Whether he groans from your words or the pain, you’re not sure./

My favorite line 😂

the way she is always reaching out to smooth his face 😭 like they already have a connection.

God, she's hyping him up not to be bad but your warnings suggest otherwise 👀 (low key here for it through)

Not her having a sad backstory 😭 billy please don't be like her father.

"the clinic can't spare two" 😏 yeah...just has to be the two of them...alone in the woods...miles from anyone else...alone...together...forever.

Sister anne break your vows for Sam! god wouldn't have made him so perfect if he didn't want you to!

HE's awake! and speaking Spanish 😍 Charming as always.

Angel is such a cute nickname for her! and it suits her so well.

"Instead, he’s looking at you, head twisting so he can see your elevated frame from his laid out position. His eyes seem to pierce into yours, so blue and intense as he watches you that it makes your breathing hitch in your throat"

hmmmm ok thats hot. baby boy has already got feelings for her.

i am so nervous for the reader to be alone with him in the cabin! She seems SO sweet. I love her.

i just have a couple of questions to help me world build:

-does the reader wear the full nun outfit with the head piece and the cross?

-what type of outlaw is Billy in your story:

-poor/rich

-serial/ made one mistake

-alone/ in a group

-loving being an outlaw/ wanting to quit it'

If you're going to flesh this out in part 2, forget I asked. I can be patient.

LOVED this story, bestie! looking forward to part 2.

AAHHHHHHH IM GLAD YOU LIKED IT, BESTIE 🧡

God, she's hyping him up not to be bad but your warnings suggest otherwise 👀 (low key here for it through) She's so naive 😂 He plays her so well cause its like mostly truth but also a huge fucking lie lol. So far, in my mind, its like he's a good person - he tries to be good and wants to be good, but he's capable of being terrible and has these dark qualities about him too that make him bad. Plus with his severe lack of faith and near hatred for God, the fact that she's a nun is soooooo not a problem for him lol

"the clinic can't spare two" 😏 yeah...just has to be the two of them...alone in the woods...miles from anyone else...alone...together...forever. Seeeeee? You get it 😏

Sister anne break your vows for Sam! god wouldn't have made him so perfect if he didn't want you to! The way I made Sam so perfect 😩 Accidentally fell in love myself lolll. That man deserves the world but he settles for crumbs. AND he would give them away if Sister Ann told him too 😭

HE's awake! and speaking Spanish 😍 Charming as always. BILLY SPEAKING SPANISH MAKES MY THIGHS SHAKE I SWEAR

-does the reader wear the full nun outfit with the head piece and the cross? Yes! That's how I imagine her anyway. Not really sure what the outfit would have been during that time for sure, but I'm pretty sure it was something similar at least. So, basically the long tunic, the rope/cord tied around her waist, the head covering/veil to cover her hair, and then the rosary.

-what type of outlaw is Billy in your story? I don't think this is really a spoiler for my fic so I'll answer. (This IS a spoiler if you don't know anything about Billy the Kid's life though outside of the show sooooo idk maybe this is a spoiler for the show?) So I'm basing this off of after Billy is "killed". Irl, after he does the Lincoln County war and all that stuff, he ends up getting shot and killed by Sheriff Pat Garrett. Where he stumbles into the clinic shot is the aftermath of that scene instead of him dying. I changed the bullet wound spot to make it a little more likely that he would have survived and been able to make it to the clinic.

poor/rich So at that point, I think he would have been kinda in the middle maybe financial wise? Def not rich, but I think he probably would still have some money stashed away from the hefty paychecks he was getting when working for the House. That's my thought anyway lol.

serial/ made one mistake Billy's the definition of "good person forced to do bad things to survive". His family died when he was still in his teens so he was on his own with nothing and had to steal and rustle cattle in order to get money. Plus he killed people and escaped jail a couple times sooooo 👀

alone/ in a group At this point he's mostly alone, but he has a lot of friends or acquaintances that he can call on or stay with if he needs too.

loving being an outlaw/ wanting to quit it Little bit of both. He's wanted to be a good person and "go straight" for so long but life didn't work out for him like that and at this point when the fic starts, I'm picturing him fully embracing the outlaw life more as an inevitable and not fighting it

I hope all that made sense. Thanks for your comments, bestie! Made my day! 🧡

[polarisdelphi]

Another Arthurian concept, we have now Sir Galahad - just like everyone else, with his trusty sword and little "titles" I gave him. Pure of heart and youngest of all seem to fit him nicely :)

Everything about him is constant and reliable - hence so many rectangular and square shapes - but he is very soft as well, very emotional and understanding - so we also have round shapes and edges are pretty much rounded.

And I guess it's pretty clear he's a catholic/christian (hello, yes, I was raised in the religion and TO THIS DAY I still go like "is this catholic? is this christian? it's pretty much the same to me *puts on clown makeup*)

Also, very sober look and sober colours that contrast with how young he looks. Little scar on his face because, you know, not even the most perfect of beings are 100% perfect, it's a little reminder he also has his flaws.

And, of course, upon testing the layers, we have dear Galahad in the church, lit up by some vitrals:

His design is purple, because it compliments Lancelot's blue. Alsoooo, they look very much alike, right? Well, that has a lot to do on my view and my Arthurian world, so let's get to it!

~fangirling and overexplaining under the cut~

First obstacle I got was "Oooooh Galahad is Lancelot's son in a LOT of accounts and most of the early texts as far as I remember".

But the idea and approach I have to Arthurian legend is a lot more on what I call ~realistic~. Not a 100% though, because if you do not believe in magic and the power of new and old gods, you wouldn't think of my version as realistic.

Personally, I enjoy very much the portrayal of Hugh Dancy on the 2005 movie (as you guys know, that Lancelot lives rent free in my head, 24/7, the bastard), and recently I really enjoyed Bernard Cornwell's characterization of Galahad - so when it comes to my approach, I like leaning a lot more to that one because, personally, it makes Galahad looks much more human.

Like I said, I was born and raised in catholic faith. I went to a catholic school, knew and still know all the church songs by heart, have thousands of crucifixes, rosaries, medals of saints and images of saints laying around. To this day, I still go with my mom to church wehenever she wants to and I do enjoy churches - they feel very soothing to me, even if my faith has changed.

This disclaimer matters, trust me HAHAHAHA

All that to say, the guilt is real. With literally everything. And when I started rebelling against the faith I was taught since I was born, gotta be honest, watching that scene in King Arthur where a priest tortures people because they were pagans and says it's God's will and Lancelot just turns at him and screams savagely "NOT MY GOD!!!!" I was

👁️👄👁️

And I only went downhill with this man from there Lancelot was the death of my christian/catholic faith

Ok, ok, why does this matters when it comes to Galahad?

Well, usually, he's Lancelot's son. And/or he is this absurdly freaking perfect young man, the peak Knight in shiny armour. But that doesn't really work for me - I like having something more grounded in a grittier side of history, something more ~dark fantasy~, because we all know medieval times weren't pretty.

All those perfect Knights with pristine behaviours and morals, to me, feel too much like the Bible I grew up with - not real history with real people.

Enter Bernard Cornwell's Galahad. He's Lancelot's cousin and, in Cornwell's books, Lancelot is FUCKING INSUFFERABLE. I am looking SO FORWARD to have this man dead, because he is vile, narcisistic and a lying bastard. Galahad, in the other hand, quite despises his cousin for that. They are different sides of the same coin.

(Another disclaimer: I'm not watching The Winter King TV series 'cause they have NOTHING to do with the book and I am MAD about it, so definitely not based on that)

And what I love MOST about him: he found some balance between his faith and his human condition. He is a Knight, he kills and is pretty good at it, he doesn't shy away from battle and bloodbath. And then he prays to God and asks for forgiveness for his actions, knowing, someday, he will die himself and maybe God will allow him to enter Heaven.

He won't stop living his very human emotions to be this naïve saint walking on earth - quite the contrary, he's strong and feared in battle, and can be pretty much of a little bitch taunting people.

There's where I stand with my Galahad, then. I wanted him to be the youngest, to have this sort of naïve look to him - as well as that skinny constitution and more of a confident but reserved behaviour (quite different than Lancelot, who's posing proudly with his sword and smirking like the sassy bitch he is).

He's still learning things, so his hands are a little softer than others. Nevertheless, he already has a scar on his face, showing he's not that naïve. Galahad is pure of heart and cannot understand evil - he understands it logically but never emotionally - but he isn't a perfect naïve sweet summer child. If Arthur tells him to go and kill, he will do it.

And probably pray later.

That's why here he has the same hair as Lancelot - curly and dark, but a little shorter and more tamed - they are cousins. His eyes are more rounded, his face more oval to indicate he's still young and has a lot of good in him. His purple compliments Lancelot's blues, but his cape is a lot heavier and less flowy and dramy than his cousin's.

He has crucifixes everywhere to indicate his unweavering faith in God - even his sword looks like a crucifix. His clothes are sober in colour, but still regal with the purple, given he is a prince. I looked at some priests clothing to take some aspects of that and work on his armour - so we have things like a high button up, probably thick leather vest with a more off-white/lavender collar... Like a priest.

Not so many details and all that because of his personality: given his faith, Galahad does his best to rely on practicality of a chain and leather armour, sober colours to move around the dark settings of Britain and crucifixes to remind him he's supported by God. After all, not all of faith is just giving love, it's also receiving that love - and, in Galahad's point of view, he can feel and see God in the little things that happen to him every day.

All that faith is important to his character because he's the one that goes after the Holy Grail and succeeds, as far as I've read, something Lancelot didn't manage to do. Since I'm not much into ALL that catholic/christian religion thing, because I do think it outshines all the potential the characters have together and I have a personal beef with it, I think a man at that time who could find the balance between faith and life, without falling in cult behaviour and hysteria, honestly trying his best to live according to those values as far as his flawed human existance allowed him... That is the Holy Grail in itself.

Now, I do enjoy the concept of Galahad and Lancelot being different sides of the same coin, so ooooooooh yes, they have so much potential for philosophical and existential discussions, with Galahad always thinking about the salvation of the soul and trying to put some sense in his cousin's head and make him a better person, and Lancelot just indulging in whatever and dismissing everything he says with a good laugh - that is, when he is not in a bad mood and Lancelot just spits all the horrible things people do in the name of Galahad's God and honestly, there's no reasoning with him when he's like that.

They always end up having a drink together, in silence, thinking about everything they have talked about. Galahad does think Lancelot has a point in there and seriously questions people regarding their morals when it comes to their putrid behaviour in the name of God. And Lancelot knows deep down Galahad's words about him are drenched in truth, even if he doesn't have the same faith: he cannot deny he has too many flaws and too many behaviours that, sometimes, are questionable even to those who don't think they'll burn in Hell.

I did draw a little thing I need to find, with the Knights dining and laughing while teasing Galahad about his upstanding behaviour and not wanting to bed a woman every night they had the oportunity, while he's just "Well, there are things in this world more important than fleeting pleasures. At least I am worrying about my soul. You, in the other hand, are all going to Hell." and of course, he says that with the most content smile in the world, teasing them back. All Knights and Arthur fall silent, thinking about his words. Until Lancelot just side-eyes his cousin and "Are the women from Hell beautiful?" - everyone breaks in laughter and Galahad just smiles with a 'you're hopeless' plastered on his forehead.

That's pretty much how they all work in a nutshell. Big questions, big philosphizing around faiths and morals, big doubts and existential dread. But a lot of teasing and jokes, bloody fields and battle rushes, big feelings and an unbreakable companionship based in loyalty.

Even if he is a very level-headed man, very literate, confident, young, passionate and restrained in his expressions of his emotions out of combat, Galahad is still very pure of heart - Lancelot would never say it in front of him, but he believes you can always find a hint of hope and love in his cousin's eyes.

If that is God or not, well, that's up to you to decide.

[duck-that-does-stuff]

Hang on, let me just info dump to the void the meaning behind all my ocs names because why not?

Mia: She was my first OC and was also a self insert of me. As I got older and developed her into more of her own character, I changed her name. It’s still very similar to my name (I took out a few letters and then rearranged the remaining), but now she’s her own distinct person!

Cryvean: this is a name I made up. It was originally gonna be spelt, Crivean, but I changed the I to a Y to be weird. I specifically wanted their nickname to be Cry or Cryve though.

Nythe: another name I made up. I just like it and it’s pronounced like Nith.

Valan: I like it cause it sounds like “Talon” which fits with this OC being bird themed. I also like it because the first answer on google for what this name means is “resourceful, strong, and valiant” which I also really like considering this OC is also a vigilante!

Loralai: My dead ghost child of an OC. Her name comes from an old tale about a siren named Loralai who would sing near some cliff face and make people fall to their deaths, which is sick as fuck honestly. She was also made to be an ancestor to The Addams Family, so I think the siren name fits that general vibe.

Renna: the name means “rebirth” which I think fits for a Death God who just won’t die.

Cleome: if you look this word up, you’ll find that it’s the scientific name for the Spider Lily flower. This works because Cleome is part spider, for funsies.

Rosary: OK, there are layers to this one. 1. Rosary as a thing is a necklace worn by Catholics which they use to show devotion to God (this is the first thing that comes up on google, don’t come at me if it’s wrong please). This is fun because Rosary is a Life God and as a character is very devoted to her family. 2. Rosary has Rosa or basically Rose in the name, which is fun because I just think Roses are pretty, probably the first flower you think of, and have thorns, which fits the character. 3. I got the idea for this name from the Rosary Pea plant, which was apparently used to make Rosary in some part of the world or something. BUT ALSO the plant is apparently poisonous!! It’s a dangerous plant which fits her later in her life when she goes on her villain arc!

Orion Clayn: This OC is kinda edgy. They’re just a faceless school boy with only one eye. The only reason they’re named anything in the first place is because their initials become OC and their last name sounds like “claim”. Kinda me making a joke of “this is my OC do not steal or Claim” or something like that . Just me making a shitty joke really.

Aubrey, Charlie, Lily Kayla, Sylvia, Quin, Elian, and Remi all have basically meaningless names. I chose them because I liked the sound of them.

[mayhaps-a-blog]

I posted 2,168 times in 2022

That's 62 more posts than 2021!

150 posts created (7%)

2,018 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@ele-millennial-weirdo

@handbaskethell

@dreams-in-a-sandbox

@irn-bru

@lilac-vode

I tagged 2,164 of my posts in 2022

#star wars - 1,695 posts

#art! - 1,535 posts

#oooo - 1,143 posts

#thrawn - 696 posts

#chiss - 343 posts

#nice - 315 posts

#very nice - 287 posts

#ascendancy - 269 posts

#haaa - 262 posts

#awww - 230 posts

Longest Tag: 83 characters

#he's one of those geniuses who routinely just forgets other people aren't like that

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

One of the things that struck me the most about Richard Madoc’s character is how strongly he built up the ‘feminist’ narrative around himself; he describes himself as a feminist writer, he writes strong female characters, he goes out of his way to demand equal representation of women and minorities in the movie deal... and yet. And yet.

He’s trying so hard to assuage his guilt at what he has done and continues to do that he builds this other narrative in his mind, where he can be the hero: our success, he calls it, what we’ve done, as if Calliope has shared in this somehow, as if he’s done anything but torment her. He’ll do anything for the nebulous concept of ‘women’ but not the one thing that would help the woman in his life, right here, right now.

He’ll do anything but mildly inconvenience himself. And isn’t that telling?

371 notes - Posted August 19, 2022

#4

I am loving rereading Dracula one email at a time, I loved that book in high school and it’s fun to get back to it!

Personally, I don’t think tumblr is giving poor Jonathan enough credit. He clocked on that things were REALLY weird pretty quickly, but by the time it was clear that things were dangerous – in the carriage surrounded by wolves – he was kind of out of options.

He can’t exactly flee the carriage (there’s wolves! Behaving very strangely and unusually aggressively!) and once he’s in the castle, he still can’t leave without that carriage (under Dracula’s control) and by day 2 he’s realized he’s locked in.

He clearly knows at this point that he’s in the first 10 minutes of a horror film (which usually goes poorly for the solicitor) and the only way out is through. So, he does the only thing he can in this bizarre situation – plays along, does his job, takes extensive notes, and tries to figure out what’s going on and how to get out – the rosary helps, somehow, so that’s something.

I give Jonathan some slack for the first few days - honestly, if I was traveling alone in a foreign country where I didn’t speak the language and a woman I just met who was heavily religious grabbed my hands and begged me not to leave due to what seemed to be superstition, I would probably also insist on keeping my schedule. Maybe even a bit faster.

Admittedly I probably wouldn’t be traveling alone to a remote location to meet a mysterious man I’d never spoken to, but I’m not a solicitor.

375 notes - Posted May 13, 2022

#3

OK so I finally got around to reading Gideon the Ninth and like. I get it. I get it.

Imagine you’re Harrowhawk “my existence is a war crime” Nonagesimus and your parents killed 200 infants so that you would live. Was it worth it? You don’t know, so you break into the tomb you’re meant to be guarding, because you have to know. Was it worth it? Except your parents think this is heresy deserving death, so they all hang themselves, and you’re there holding your rope and getting ready to join them but 200 souls are clawing at your heart asking you was it worth it? Was it? Was it?

And there’s this one girl, this one person who somehow survived, who you couldn’t kill, who your parents couldn’t kill, who somehow refused to die for you, and you love her for it, love her for being the one soul that you aren’t carrying on your shoulders (was it worth it?), and you hate her, because she should hate you, hate you for what you are and what you’ve done and your torment her because yes, you are awful and terrible and a blight upon the world (was it worth it?), and she hates you because you’re a bully and a bitch and she thinks she killed your parents so of course you hate her too.

And you can’t let her go, because who will hate you without her? And she can’t let you go, because who will hate her without you?

But there’s this chance, a chance to become something better, greater, perhaps a fraction of what you were meant to be and maybe then it’ll be worth it (could it ever be worth it?) so you drag her along because who else would you bring? And finally you’ve done it, you’ve told her your secret, and she told you yours, and maybe you don’t have to hate each other after all.

And then what does she go and do?

She goes and fucking dies for you.

Now you’ve got 200 infant souls and that of Gideon Nav hanging off your shoulders, and there’s nothing you can do, no way to fix this, you can’t even fucking die, so fuck it, was it worth it?

Was it?

WAS IT??

760 notes - Posted November 12, 2022

#2

I still think Mon Mothma could and should solve all her problems by framing Perrin for embezzlement.

811 notes - Posted November 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I have seen much speculation on the high quality of Dream of the Endless as a romantic partner, and I have seen many refute such speculations, mainly citing Nada as proof that Dream is a terrible, capricious lover doomed to failure.

Personally, I think it would fall somewhere in the middle. Dream is, by most accounts, a passionate and considerate lover.

Consider Calliope’s words from the comics: “He was the most gallant of lovers... He delighted in sharing his knowledge. He had a castle filled with treasures, and took such pleasure in showing them, giving them to me. He was so gentle, and his skin felt like white silk against my skin... when we made love, it was like a flame: I felt utterly engulfed, utterly loved. Treasured.”

Or words from another former lover: “...we began a conversation, which stretched over many weeks. And, at the end, he invited me to remain in the Dreaming, as a guest... He began, rather nervously, to court me. And I began, also rather nervously, to be courted. And we were both, initially, extremely happy. He loved me. I do not doubt that.”

In summary, as a lover, Dream is, in essence, a dream :)

And like a dream, it fades.

His first and foremost priority is, and always has been, his duty. Once he’s settled into a relationship, once the shine has worn off, he goes back to work, and his lover is left for when he feels like stopping by.

Both mentioned relationships end this way. A slow drifting away...

And once the drift begins, well. Nada was an extreme example, but reject him, insult him, even if it’s just a loss of temper, and a lover will find themselves shown the door and banned from returning. His anger, his hurt, is cold and sharp and cutting, like the nightmares he rules, and he holds grudges for millennia.

Dating Dream would be a dream, but the breakup is a nightmare.

Enjoy!

1,211 notes - Posted August 25, 2022

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