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call-sign-shark · 1 year

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Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary: Six months after being released from prison and cleared of murder charges, you and Arthur are finally getting married. All you have to do now is hope for the wedding day to be spared from some Shelby chaos. Featuring John Shelby x Reader.

Words: 6k

TW: tooth-rotting fluff, light angst, allusions to smut, one ruined wedding cake, Tommy not being a dick for once, otherwise it's a well-deserved soft chapter to start this new act. Let's not break your heart too soon.

Notes:

✞ This chapter is the beginning of Act II of Heaven in Your Eyes. The timeline is S4.

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here).

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The beating in your heart was so erratic, so fierce, that its constant drumming echoed in your skull and ears as painfully as if someone was smashing your brain with a hammer. You clenched your jaws at the painful bite of the rope the police officer behind you had placed around your neck. The way the noose compressed your windpipe, already giving you a foretaste of what was awaiting you, made the act of breathing laborious. Sucking on a sharp breath, your throat whistled like a dying bird. Down below I go, you thought while nervously playing with the wedding ring Arthur gifted you weeks ago. He had barely made his proposal when policemen snatched you from him and threw you both in jail. With your back straight and your crystal eyes glaring at the officers who were present in this slaughter room, you managed to keep your dignity. They might hang you, but they would not see you cry. In fact, if you went down they would have to watch you, so that your piercing irises would haunt them until, one day, Death would come for them too.

I love you Arthur.

I love you Dad and Mom.

I love you little sister.

I’m so sorry I’ve failed you.

Could you ever forgive me?

Your teeth dug into the flesh of your inner cheek as seconds flew, each bringing you closer to your inevitable end.

“WAIT!!! PLEASE WAIT! ”

A far cry in the distance. Were you dreaming? Or were demons already afraid of you down in Hell?

Officer Kat Wilson’s heart missed a beat when the familiar voice boomed in the warehouse, as loud as a foghorn. The blonde policewoman turned around, eyes filled with hope as she saw the silhouette of Sergeant Moss bathed in the blinding outside light that had rushed into the place when he had opened the warehouse’s heavy doors, “Do not kill her! We’ve just received a new order from the Crown: Heaven Lavey and Polly Gray are proven innocent of the crimes they had been accused of.” He said, forehead glistening with sweat. He had probably run as fast as possible to deliver the news quickly. Kat Wilson felt all of her muscles relax at such an unhoped-for plot twist.

“Take the noose off her neck now.” She ordered, trying his best to sound strict despite Moss standing right here, running out of breath.

Innocent? Take the noose? Sentences were melting in an intelligible treacle because of the emotional roller coaster you were undergoing, hence you only caught a few words. When your mind finally made sense of what was happening, a long sigh came out of your quivering lips. Then, the policeman behind you set your throat free. You blinked several times and looked at Officer Wilson, who replied to your confused gaze with a faint, supportive smile illuminating her usually oh-so-severe traits. Then, she proceeded to free you from the handcuffs that were sinking into the frail flesh of your wrists. As she did, Kat brought her lips near your ear and whispered so only you could hear, “Arthur’s safe. The warrant includes the Shelby family too. I’m sorry for the mess, doll. ”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and glanced at the woman, trying not to let too many emotions show. Not that you wanted to play the tough girl, but you were so overwhelmed by your feelings that you were not even able to let out anything except confusion. It was all… Too much. “You knew they were going to release us.” You stated with a quiet but still slightly shaky voice as the revelation struck you.

“Let’s say I hoped they’d interrupt your death sentence in time.” Her soft yet hoarse voice replied, highlighted with a cunning little something.

Kat Wilson gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze before leading you outside the sinister warehouse, unwilling to provide you with further details. And somehow, you did not bother to ask. The only thing you wished for was to run away from this killing floor. Thus you walked bare feet on the gravel ground, the peaky sensation of the tiny stones against your flesh keeping you grounded to reality, andyou stopped in the middle of the yard. There, you threw your head back and closed your eyes, relishing the soft caress of the wind on your face. You breathed a sigh of relief, for the clouds above you had shifted from the sun, whose rays were warming up your frozen skin.

You were alive.

“Heaven!” A woman voice called you.

You reopened your eyes and looked around you, “Oh my God, Polly!” You suddenly exclaimed when you recognized her. Seeing Aunt Polly running to you and almost tackling you in a desperate hug was all it took for your emotions to finally flood you. Tears dawned at the corner of your eyes as you pulled her into a deeper embrace. Polly sobbed in your arms, her body quivering because of her cries.

“I saw them Heaven! I saw the spirits. Oh bloody hell, the spirits…”

“I know Pol,” You tried to comfort her the best you could, your grip tightening around the poor woman in the hope of helping her calm her panic attack. Still, you knew she was shaken to the core by her freshly canceled rendezvous with Mr. Death, “Everything’s fine,” You whispered, and let one of your hands lose itself in her short dark hair, “I hear them too.” You admitted. Polly gradually grew quieter in your arms, running out of tears. Nevertheless, you did not let her go. What you did, though, was to silently thank the policewoman with your gaze, your irises sparkling with genuine gratitude. No matter her role in all this mess, you knew Kat Wilson contributed to setting you free.

You were alive.

Alive, for sure, and indescribably furious.

1925 - Six Months Later

You had been absentmindedly looking at your reflection in the mirror for long minutes when someone knocked at the door and snatched you from your contemplative state. A growl escaped from your lips for you had let everyone know you did not want to be bothered— truth be told, you needed a bit of time alone with you to soothe your anxiety. However, the uninvited guest came in before you allowed him to do so.

“True gentlemen wait to be invited before entering a room, you know? Especially when a lady is in it. ” You said with a faint smirk on your plump and glossy lips as you recognized the guest by the sole fragrances of his cologne.

“A part of me hoped to see you undressed, that’s why I didn’t, little Angel.” The masculine voice answered, its tone filled with tease. You snorted at such a stupid answer, kinda expecting it, and rolled your eyes in amusement.

“Idiot.” You simply retorted, glancing at him through the mirror you were still facing.

“Idiot? That’s it? I’m used to better roast from ya, eh!” John exclaimed, surprised by your lack of wit. He wanted to tease you again you but your sudden silence kept him from doing so. Something was off. Worried, the young Shelby brother frowned a little bit and walked to you, not minding your desire of being alone. You jumped slightly at the sensation of his two large and warm hands squeezing your upper arms, “Oi, Angel.” He gently called, the tenderness in his voice wrapping you in a comforting haze, “Tell me what’s wrong please…”

For sure John Shelby had a soft spot for you since the day Arthur introduced you to the family. No one had ever doubted it. Without the slightest explanation nor apparent reasons, you both immediately grew fond of each other from the moment your eyes met. In truth, your relationship with the Shelby family had been quite tricky for months following the first meeting. Most of them didn’t want you to be a part of the clan, partly due to the witch rumors around you and Arthur’s obsessive love. It was only now, a solid year and one murder later, that everything had started to flow more smoothly with them. Even Esme, who had been terrified of you and would usually avoid you at all costs, had learned to live with your presence in the family. According to Polly, you had deserved your place among them more than any other women the boys brought home. The only threat to this harmony had been and still was Thomas Shelby himself. The mutual resentment you shared for each other was rooted in deep and far too complicated reasons, the most recent one was him selling you to the police for murder charges. However, you came to terms with the idea of maintaining a mutual hatred as long as he did not step between Arthur and you ever again.

So, apart from Tommy and Esme, you were now getting along with everyone. But with John… With John, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced, apart from Arthur. Whenever your man wasn’t there, John would do everything that was in his power to keep you company and bring a smile to your face. Not only he loved to visit you and spent his free time with you, but he truly cared for your well-being. Sometimes he would make a surprise visit to your house. In fact, he would stand there on your porch with the most adorable smile you had ever seen etched on his lips, a basket filled with food in one hand and a bottle of red wine in the other. When Arthur and you decided to leave Birmingham, your heart ached at the thought of moving away from John. Following your departure, rumors said John’s eternal smile had not be seen for weeks. However, once you had well adjusted to your new routine, even distance could not shake your unique bond: John never ceased to visit you when he could.

“What’s the matter, little angel?” He inquired, genuinely concerned by your silence and the melancholic gleam in your aquamarine eyes.

“I’m scared John. I’m fucking scared.” You finally admitted, closing your eyelids a few seconds to take a slow inhale. The weight in your chest had vanished from the moment words left your mouth. At such a surprising answer, the young gangster’s grip tightened on your arms and he gently forced you to turn around to face him. Still, you avoided his gaze, fearing judgment.

“It’s your wedding day, Heaven. What are you scared of?” He carefully asked, taking care not to make you think he was mocking or judging you.

“I’m scared because now I’ve got something to lose,” You fell silent for a tiny while, fighting again the desire to remain silent, but you knew you could open up to him, “I have a magnificent house in the forest cradled by the sweet chant of a peaceful stream. I have the loveliest man I could have dreamt of by my side, who loves me to the moon and back. God, I even got a dog!” Another brief pause you took to avoid crying, “And one day there will be one or two kids…” John listened to you carefully, still wondering what the problem was, “If I'm being honest, I’ve never thought I would be allowed to be this happy. At one point in my life, I got used to the idea of dying alone, hunted down by bad memories, and drown by guilt. But, look at me now. Look how far I’ve come… That’s why I’m scared of losing it all. Fuck, John — I’ll die without him.”

To your greatest surprise, the young gangster replied to your lament with soft chuckles, “Heaven. I don’t know what it is between Arthur and you, but I’ve never seen a love fiercer than the one you share. Bloody Hell, you’re so addicted to each other it’s even a bit scary sometimes, not gonna lie eh,” His fingers trapped your chin in one soft movement and, with indescribable tenderness, he raised your head so that he could observe each trait of your angelic face, “Having something to lose makes you cherish what you have even more. Plus it doesn’t mean you’re gonna lose it. “ The corner of his charming lips curled in a sweet smile, “Moreover, there’s more chance for Tommy to like you than for Arthur to leave your side. He’s not gonna let you go… To my greatest sadness.” John winked at you and, despite everything, his last flirty comment managed to make you laugh. Sometimes, you didn’t know how he always succeeded in cheering you up but still he did, “Listen, I knew you’d be a bit nervous for your wedding day, so I got you a little surprise.”

“A surprise?” You asked, curious, wiping away the tiny tears that had formed in the corner of your eyes while being careful not to ruin the stunning siren-eyes makeup Ada did. It would be a shame to have more mascara on your cheek than on your eyelashes the day of your wedding. John walked to the door and put his large hand on the knob, looking at you to maintain a small suspense “I know he’s not supposed to see you before the ceremony but he would not stop crying without you so…” He was about to open the door when he stopped mid-action, “Oh and I’m not talking about Arthur by the way. Even though I’m pretty sure he’s also doing that.”

“Fuck off, John boy.” You poked your tongue out, feeling cheerful and far less anxious thanks to him. He grinned in reply and finally opened the door.

“Oh! This is... So cuuuuute!” You almost squealed, for you were welcomed by the sight of Kaiser, the huge Cane Corso Arthur’s had brought home one night, sitting in front of the door with his mouth open in a big smile and with his drooling tongue hanging, “Come here big boy!” You called him, kneeling on the floor without minding your wedding dress now that your fur baby was here. Kaiser did not need to be asked twice: he walked to you and put his huge head between your frail hands to get his scratches, looking at you with so much love in his hazel eyes you could not resist smooching his wet snout “I can’t believe you’ve put a bow tie to my dog!” You laughed, “Look at this distinguished gentleman... He’s gonna steal all the women!” The massive beast barked loudly as to agree with you. You delicately wrapped your arms around his muscular frame to hug him, the sensation of his fur against your face erasing the last bits of anxiety left in you “Oh you’re the most handsome man of the whole family, baby Kaiser... Yes, you are. ”

His tail wagged. Of course, he was!

“Couldn’t participate in the wedding if he wasn’t all fancy, eh. I've also put a fake mustache on his snout but he ate it so I gave up on the idea,” He shrugged, “I thought it would make you laugh and help you relax.”

“Thank you, John! Thank you so much, you’re lovely I swear.” You said, looking at him with your gaze filled with genuine affection all the while cuddling with Kaiser, who seemed to be in paradise judging by his blissfully happy face.

“So — are you ready?” John finally asked.

“Yes, I am.” You replied, then stood up and took a quick look at your reflection in the mirror to fix your long white mane, which had been styled in wavy and adorned with a few diamonds from there and then, giving your hair an otherworldly shine. As you focused on your hairstyle, John rearranged your dress. At one point, he stopped what he was doing to look at you with a dreamy expression.

“You’re stunning, little angel. Fuckin’ bewitching.” He whispered before shaking his head, “Let’s find your man now, eh. Alright?” You nodded, the butterflies in your stomach flying at the sole mention of Arthur.

“I’m ready but before we go can I ask you a favor, John?”

“Anything.”

“You know, I’d have loved my family to be here. Mom would have been prolly crying during the whole wedding in Dad’s arms while my little sister would have thrown white petals at everyone’s face for fun…” You let out a charming but oh-so-sad chuckle “But no matter how fiercely I’ve prayed for it I know they won’t be there. So I’ve got two choices left: either I walk alone to my husband or I ask someone to accompany me.” You had barely finished your sentence when the celeste blue of your eyes dived into the sky blue of his, “I’d like you to escort me down the aisle, John.”

He remained silent, stricken by surprise at such a touching demand. He had not been expecting it. Words were at loss, however, they were not necessary for you to understand his answer: as the sun rays crossed through the windows and enlightened John’s face, you could see the precious shine of one sole crystal tear running down his cheek.

The powerful sound of the organ resonated in the whole church, the vibrations of its melody resounding in Arthur’s chest and making him tremble from within. He was standing in front of the altar with his manly hands interlocked in front of him. For the occasion, he had bought the most elegant and expensive tailored three-piece suit he had ever owned: he was dressed in all black, except for the white shirt he was wearing under. Moreover, Tommy had put some traditional white flowers in the pocket of his vest, while Polly had slipped an emerald pillar pendant around his neck and hid it under his shirt before he entered the church— a marriage blessing, from what he had understood from Polly’s emotional speech. The woman was so proud of her older nephew she could not help but already weep with joy. Arthur nervously glanced at his brother who was standing by his side, slightly in front of him at his best man’s place. Then, his steel-blue eyes shifted from Tommy and searched for his Aunt, who sat a bit further in the audience beside Ada and Finn. To be honest, Arthur’s anxiety kicked in. The more the second passed, the more the unpleasant impression his heart was about to burst from his chest was overwhelming. Nervously spinning one of his silver rings, he tried to control his nerves the best he could but it was harder than he thought: a part of him, admittedly irrational, was terrified by the possibility of you not showing up.

What if you’ve changed your mind? What if you’ve come to the conclusion you did not want him? What if your wedding did not work out, just like his first one? Maybe the problem hadn’t been Linda but him?

As was always the case when he was panicking, his self-whipping thoughts banged together in his skull like a hive of furious buzzing hornets. Nevertheless, Arthur knew, deep down, that you were soul mates and that there was no actual reason for you to flee. What really helped him to calm down though was taking a deep inhale and focusing on the hundred of candles’ flames that were illuminating the room with tiny dancing flames. A comforting wave of warmth almost immediately wrapped his heart as he did, for this church was the place in which you met for the very first time. He still clearly remembers the fire that had lit in his dying soul at the way your fingers grazed him when you had cleaned the blood off his face with a torn piece of your own dress. Not only had you purified his soiled skin, but then you had allowed him to put his head on your thighs and proceeded to pet his hair all the while lulling his demons to sleep with that enchanting voice of yours. From that night, Arthur made a promise to Almighty God, who had been kind enough to answer his prayers and sent him his most precious Angel. And that promise was that he would marry you in this same place to show God how well he would treat you and how happy you would be with him.

The organ roared louder in the church all of a sudden, causing him to refocus.

You were coming.

The gangster straightened his back, quickly slicked his hair back one last time to look perfect for you, and then stared at the church’s heavy wooden doors with both anxiety and anticipation in his eyes. His blood boiled with impatience, for you had been separated for too long because of the traditional “don’t see the bride before the ceremony” the Shelby women — and John — had insisted to establish. That being said, it had been torture for Arthur, who was aching so much from your absence that he felt almost as bad as when he went through rehab. Hands shaking, cold sweat running down his back, breath hitching, Arthur could definitely not live without you by his side. — you were the most exquisite drug ever created, against which even opium could not even compete.

The doors opened and panic rushed even more brutally into his being. At first, he thought he was about to die from a heart attack, but then, all these negative feelings vanished in dust when his piercing blue irises met your tantalizing silhouette. When you erupted from the almost supernatural light that was surrounding you, Arthur widened his eyes and stopped breathing. Here you were, your seductive body adorned with a graceful Greek goddess-inspired dress whose cut let the pale flesh of your back for the world to see while also forming a graceful and long wedding cape that was cascading down your shoulders. The whiteness of your outfit, equaling the wonderful snow-like color of your hair, was enhanced with gold jewels: armbands and a choker. One look at you was all it took for Arthur to feel the stinging of uncontrollable tears dawning in his eyes, for a tsunami of emotions had crashed in his soul at such a holy sight. As you walked to the altar at John’s arm, the wind blew in the church and made your cape dance behind you. For a few seconds, Arthur was convinced he saw wings in your back. Mighty feathery wings.

Divine. It was the only word that came into his mind when he watched you breaking the distance between you. And the more you approached, the more he was stunned by your ethereal beauty. So stunned he had to keep himself from falling on his knees at your feet, deeming himself unworthy of standing in front of such a pure seraph. Even Tommy, whose resentment for you was a secret to none, found himself in awe at your pulchritude. He, along with the groom, had to blink several times to make sure they were not dreaming.

Your glossy lips stretched in an enamored smile overflowing with emotions when you looked at your future husband: he was so charming in his suit that you fell in love with him for a second time. Your grip tightened around John’s arm for your heartbeat quickened until you finally rejoined Arthur. As soon as you reached him, the tall gangster took you by the hands — yours: small, delicate, and freezing. His: large, calloused, and burning. You dived into each other’s eyes, and the rest of the world disappeared.

“You’re so handsome.” You whispered, causing an adorable pink shade to blossom on your soon-to-be husband’s cheeks.

“C-Come on. Did ye see yer own reflection? Ye took me fookin breath away, Angel.” His hoarse replied.

“Arthur, we’re in a church.” You discreetly snorted.

“Oh Fook. I mean shi— Whatever.” He slightly stuttered. At this moment, it did not matter that he was a grown man in his mid-thirties: he felt like a flustered teenager in front of his first crush all over again. And to be true, so you were — to the point you both did not hear much of what the priest was saying, for you were far too hypnotized by each other’s presence as well as fighting hard against the urge of devouring each other’s lips. The only moment you both came back to your senses was when you had to pronounce your vows.

Then came the final moment.

Arthur Shelby, do you take Heaven Lavey to be your wife? Do you promise to be faithful to her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love her and to honor her all the days of your life?

I do. He answered with haste. You trapped your lower lip between your teeth, gathering all your strength to hold your emotions, but the crystal tears in your aquamarine eyes betrayed you.

Arthur Shelby, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

The caress of your fingers along with the cold sensation of the golden ring on his skin sent shivers down his spine. Observing you as you sealed your love by slipping the ring around his finger, Arthur’s smile grew a bit larger and made his teary eyes squint, digging adorable crowfeet at their corners.

You can kiss the bride.

The priest’s last words brought him back to life — that’s what he had been waiting for what seemed to be an eternity. Unable to wait any longer, the gangster brought one hand to your cheek and broke the excruciating distance between your lips until they crashed together under a thunder of applause. The feathery caress of his moustache on your skin mixed with the sensation of his eager mouth warmed you all over. Arthur deepened the kiss by parting his lips slightly so that his tongue could find its way to yours and give it a gentle stroke. But while hungry, the press of his mouth remained chaste. Carried away by his softness, you felt your body flickering in his arms, as fragile as the church’s candle flames.

You were his, he told it to himself. And he was yours. All yours until death tears you apart.

No, fuck that Reaper cunt he thought, even Death would not keep him apart from you.

The hundreds of candles and lanterns that were scattered through all Arrow House’s garden enlightened the night with their warm hue. Shortly before the wedding, the Shelby family suggested hosting the party in Tommy’s Mansion rather than in your place for practical matters. By celebrating your marriage in Arrow House, all the family and, by extension, friends, could reunite together without having to drive for miles. Moreover, the mansion was far bigger than your and Arthur’s house, which made the place far more convenient for partying. For the event, all of Arrow House and its gargantuan garden had been decorated with lights, candles of every kind, white drapes, and flower wreaths that gave the place a supernatural atmosphere. The cheerful cacophony of chatter and music hovered above the garden as the guests were indulging themselves with food, alcohol, and innocent fun. Even Officer Kat Wilson, who had been invited following her implication in your release from prison, spent the whole night partying with the Shelby family. Surprisingly enough, no one dared to disrupt the celebration with illegal activities. Just a few bets here and there. The only incident to declare had been the moment when Arthur, faithful to himself, almost smashed someone’s head in the wedding cake —he got angry when one of the guests looked at your cleavage—. However, if Arthur failed with ruining the cake it had not been Kaiser’s case, who ate half of it by himself.

“Where are Arthur and Heaven? Can’t believe the bride and the groom had disappeared!” Polly asked Tommy and Ada, visibly unhappy. The latter was a bit tipsy judging by the red shade of her cheeks and the glass of champagne in her perfectly manicured hand.

“Last time I’ve seen them they were dancing with flower crowns on their heads,” She hiccoughed, “I nearly died from laughing. Arthur. With a flower crown. It was so sweet and ridiculous!”

“That ain’t fun, Ada. I really need to find those stupid lovebirds. I swear I’m going bonkers: first Arthur’s tantrum, then Kaiser ruining the wedding cake, and now the newlyweds are late for the picture!” She complained. Overall, it had been Aunt Polly who made sure everything ran smoothly, hence her discontentment.

Tommy rolled his eyes at his sister’s inebriation, then he squeezed her shoulder with his large hand, “I think your question will find its answer really soon, Pol.” He stated with his quiet and deep voice as his turquoise eyes caught sight of your silhouette walking toward them, holding Arthur by the hand. You were both exchanging glances and light enamored laughters.

As surprising as it sounded, Thomas Shelby and you had managed to put your mutual hatred aside for the sake of the wedding. Of course, you were carefully avoiding each other the best you could, but when you were together in inevitable family moments, your exchanges remained polite.

Polly turned to you with her eyebrows furrowed and pressed her fists on her hips with an angry- mother expression when you and Arthur joined the small group.

“Ah! There you are! The photographer has been fuming for half an hour! Where have you been?” She scolded.

“We really need a map. This place is a fookin’ maze eh. We got lost.” Arthur tried to justify himself, his fingers firmly intertwined with yours, “I mean I wanted to show her the mansion but hey, I quite forgot which way to go and —“

“Arthur?” Polly cut him.

“Eh?”

“Your fly.” She simply stated. Holding much power, those two tiny words made Arthur almost jump. He let go of your hand in one vivid movement.

“OH FOOKIN HELL!” His gravel voice exclaimed when he looked down at his trousers. He quickly zipped the fly up under Ada’s hysterical laugh and Tommy’s mocking smirk. Admittedly, you could not help but giggle too for his reaction had been quite priceless. Oh Arthur, you thought. The only one who was not laughing was Polly, who looked at him with such a desperate face that you were sure she was about to facepalm herself. Or slap his face, it depended on her mood.

“Men and their cock, I swear. Look at you, idiot,” She said affectionately, “Your hair is all messed up! You’re going to look awful in your wedding pic!” She growled, grabbing her oldest nephew to rearrange both his hair and his tie.

“Don’t be mean Pol, he just needed to release the pressure.” You said, watching the scene with a faint smile on your juicy and glossy lips still swollen from Arthur’s lustful kisses, “The whole speech thing worried him.”

“Mmmpff— true.” He grunted, embarrassed.

“Yeah of course.” The beautiful Ada started before coming to you and smoothing the folds of your goddess dress with a teasing grin “What a long and difficult way to say you just wanted to give him a blowjob.” She teased.

“Piss off Ada.” You gently retorted, rolling your eyes in a fake outraged pout, “let’s take that picture before Polly strangle us all.”

“OI. Everyone fucking gather together for the picture! Bring the damn dog too!” Tommy yelled to the crowd, “John! Made them pose in front of the mansion!” Orders flew and Peaky Blinders were soon taking the crowd in charge to help the photographer take the most perfect picture he could take. When everyone was ready, he pushed the button of his camera and, in a blinding flash, captured the most beautiful moment of your whole life in a picture you would cherish like the apple of your eye.

“We… We really should … Like… At least try to get in bed.” You giggled, your cheeks still adorned with a pink blush. Admittedly, talking had become quite a challenge after the second bottle of wine.

“Not gonna lie, love, I can’t fookin’ get up for the life of me.” Arthur pulled you closer against his bare chest and slipped one hand into your messy long hair, not willing to move. The tenderness of his caresses made your whole body relax and you melted in the warmth of his freckled skin. To hell with the bed, you thought, the floor would do the trick.

When the party had come to an end, Arthur had carried you bridal-style to one of the mansion’s magnificent bedrooms, despite being completely drunk. The whole walk had been tedious with poor Arthur staggering in the stairway, but you could not have cared less — you were as wasted as he was and could not walk anymore. Maybe the alcohol contest with Kat and Uncle Charlie had not been such a great idea after all… Once you reached the bedroom, Arthur and you collapsed on the large fur rug that was on the wooden floor and clumsily took off each other’s clothes between heated kisses and steamy moans. He had impatiently waited for the wedding night, calling you “Mrs. Shelby” and “me lovely wife” all the way. That being said, a few intoxicated chuckles had embellished the symphony of your love when alcohol made one of you missed the other’s lips. No one could tell how many hours went by nor how many times you made love — Not even you. You were only coming back to your senses now that you were both snuggling naked on the floor, your legs entangled and your mind still clouded with your latest orgasm.

“I don’t want this wonderful day to end,” Arthur said, his gruff voice finally breaking the comfortable and peaceful silence that had settled in the room. A slow and long exhale escaped from your nostrils at his words before you laid lazy kisses on his chest. Your lips, still hungry for him despite your drowsiness, trailed up until they reached the golden cross pendant he was always wearing. A shiver ran down his spine when you took it between your full lips and looked up to his eyes through your Bambi lashes, “Fook — you make me so… Happy.”

“And I’ll do my best to keep you happy every day of your life.” You replied after a little while, setting the pendant free from your tantalizing mouth. “That was a pretty successful day.”

“It was, eh.” Arthur softly smiled at your words, his piercing blue eyes enjoying your mesmerizing beauty and his long fingers gently massaging your scalp, “We got a letter and a bouquet from Mrs. Solomons, y’know. She wanted to come but her husband’s back was hurting too much. ”

“Oh yes? Rosie is a sweetheart.”

“And her husband’s a cunt.” He growled, “Bloody bastard.”

“I know right? But she’s great. She’s been teaching me so many interesting things about feminism! Really made me want to attend her next meeting!”

“Women… You’re all going to overpower us one day.” Arthur said, his voice tinted with amusement. His free hand quickly grabbed the bottle of whisky that was next to him and took a mouthful of alcohol.

“It would not be a bad thing,” You pressed a kiss against his chin and he hummed in response, delighted by the way you showered him with tenderness. Arthur would have been purring under your touch if he had been able to do so. It just felt good — so good the whole world could have gone down in flames he wouldn’t mind as long as you kept pampering him like you were doing. You made him feel loved. You made him feel at peace… And God knows how much he needed that. “Especially for Michael. Have you seen his girlfriend Nora? She looked exhausted.”

“She just gave birth to her second child. Of course, she’s exhausted, love.” He said. His hand, which had been playing with your hair until then, slowly ran down your naked back.

“Hm.” That was all you replied, for you felt Michael’s girl was more than just physically exhausted. Something was definitely off in their relationship, but you did not want to mingle. “Their daughter is lovely, though.”

“She is.”

Another silence fell in the bedroom, only embellished by the relaxing cracking of the woods burning in the hearth. Both of you had closed your eyes, slowly drifting away into Morpheus’ kingdom.

“Angel?” He called you with a sleepy voice.

“Yes, Arthur?” You answered, dozing off.

“ I’d love to have kids with ye, eh. Little white-haired and blue-eyed us running barefoot in the forest… Little embodiments of our love brightening our life.” His voice was merely a whisper now for he was slowly falling asleep, “I’ve always wanted to be a dad… but thought I was too messed up for that.”

“You aren’t.” You smiled and let your fingers lazily graze his skin, your nails crossing through his chest hairs and ending their race on his heart, right where his tattoo was “I want it too Arthur. I want it too.”

Sleep made the last word of your sentence die on your lips. Now, the hullabaloo of the party was no more. All the remaining noises were the harmonious murmurs of your slow breathings and the lullaby sung by the fire, which had never been so comforting.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

✞ Tag list: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms

✞ Nora Gray belongs to @amidst-wonderland || Rose Solomons belongs to @raincoffeeandfandoms || Kat Wilson belongs to my sweet partner @callme-fox

✞ Each chapter of this series can be read as stand-alone even though it's far more enjoyable if you have read at least the previous chapter.

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its-in-the-woods · 19 days

Text

Coyote Head - Part 11 - Screams in the woods

master list

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part9, Part 10,

Pairing: Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean

Includes many other characters from Fallout

Synopsis: Lucy reaches for him, “Don’t let go!”

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning: Animal/people death, dead animal mutilation, general horror, religious themes, Alternative Universe, Slow Burn, Death, Aging, Family Feuding, Older Man/Younger Woman,

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. So you have been warned. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

**Strap in and get ready for a ride kiddos**

Harris and Margie are looking between Cooper and Lucy, the Bible between them. Lucy had brought it over to show them and ask questions about the names on the front page, but she was now being stonewalled. The whole thing felt ridiculous, Lucy was still doubting the validity of any of what was happening.

“I don’t know about these names,” Harris said, looking over the names, his glasses making his eyes look huge. The large man had been on edge since they arrived, his shoulder scrunched body tight.

Lucy blows some air out through her nose, “You said you were lookin’ for the bible, the night me and Cooper got attacked.”

Margie glares at Harris, “Harris, for Saint Peter’s sake, just tell the girl what you know. Or I will piece together what I can, and give her what I know.”

Harris sighs, Cooper looking at Lucy trying to figure out what the heck was going on. Lucy shrugs at him, fiddling with her cup, her fingers itching for a cigarette. It had been a bad idea to start that up while all this stress was happening.

“Margie, you know I was never close with my Dad. Anything he knew about the bible was passed to Tim. Not to me.” Harris was still trying to skirt the subject, fingers twisting around each other as he looked at everyone.

“Oh, horseshit!” Margie hollered, the little woman’s face going red, as she glared at him. Lucy was taken aback by the sudden outburst. “Fine. Fine.”

Margie stood up grabbing a black jar and pouring a tall glass. “None of you get any, 'cause I sure ain’t in the mood.”

Harris, Lucy, and Cooper both cringing back as if being scolded with a belt. Lucy’s heart pounding as she tries to keep herself composed, hoping against hope she gets some answers.

“Now, the MacLean’s have always had secrets. Their crops always good, and cows are always plump. Back in the day before vaccines, they barely ever lost a child. Heck, I barely ever saw any of them get sick.” Margie took a sip of her black drink. “Now we all had theories, all wondered what they were doing. They never cut back more forest than they needed, and always leased at low rates. Yet they wanted for nothing.”

Margie takes a moment to look at everyone, at the table, before she continues.

“Then Albert died, and Tim took over. What Harris won’t tell y’all is that the whole family had been practicing devil magic.” Margie states no venom behind her words. “Bring offerings to this forest spirit, god, whatever. Not for me to judge.”

Cooper fiddles with the edge of his cup, his shoulders moving forward, as he makes himself smaller. Lucy felt her stomach twist, she had never been religious, but calling it devil magic seemed too harsh. Even with the Anton Lavey quote in her Grandpa’s handwriting.

“Whatever Tim did, it worked. But your Grandma was raised in the church. I loved Shirley and she put up with a lot of stuff. When Tim wanted to bring Hank into the fold.” Margie looked over at Harris. “She said no. Said all of it had to stop, wasn’t going to be a part of it passing down.”

Harris shifts, taking his glasses off and putting them on the table. “As soon as Tim stopped, things started to go south. It wasn’t instant. It was little things, minor flooding in a field that had never flooded before. Seeds not taking as well as they should. Losing more calves than normal.”

Margie nods, letting out a sigh, she got up and brought some glasses over. Pouring small amounts for each, before sitting down, still glaring at her husband as he speaks about his family.

“We wrote it off as a bad year.” Harris sighs, fiddling with the cup but not taking a sip. “But it kept getting worse, and worse. Blanche kept telling Harris that he needed to start doing the offering again.”

Lucy took a sip of the black drink, it was bitter, but also strangely sweet, most likely gooseberries.

“Shirley kept saying no, and then Blanche died.” Harris swallows, “Found her lying right by her chickens.” He finally takes a drink, wincing at the sweetness. “All her chickens were gone, and the thing had taken her eyes.”

Cooper looks pale as he stares down at his cup, Lucy finishing hers in a quick swig. She rubs her hand along his knee hoping to help ease him. The thought of her great grandma laid out dead by her prized chickens was horrid.

“So, Tim decided it was time to start up again.” Harris says, “Shirley was beside herself, thought her husband had lost it. “

“But it worked,” Lucy spoke, “Things got better, crops grew, cows birthed easily, no one got sick anymore.”

Harris nods, finally sipping the drink, “I didn’t want to believe it either. How could bringing a loaf of bread, or bundle of herbs, make the ground seem so much richer.”

“Why didn’t you tell Lucy?” Cooper interjects, fingers running over the rim of the glass in several circles.

Harris leans back, taking another small sip of the liquid, Margie pouring everyone a little more of the makeshift brew.

“Tim said it ended with him.” Harris finally spoke, “When he came to tell me he was dying.” The man looked out into his yard, eyes glassy as he spoke. “He was different, it was the first time I’d seen him look so content with life. Tim kept going on and on about how it was finally going to be over. That he would finally be free, the whole family won’t have to worry anymore.”

“We should have told you Lucy, should have been more forward about the whole situation. But Tim was adamant it was over,” Margie adds, Lucy feels a cold spread of anxiety spill from her ribs out into her stomach.

“But then we found the coyote head, us being attacked in the trailer,” Lucy states, “But you still kept it from me.”

“I didn’t think you’d be ready for this, especially after what happened. We wanted to give it some time. So you could heal before we dropped the family past on you.” Harris replies, reaching to squeeze Lucy’s hand. She pulls away, a feeling of betrayal still sitting tight in her chest.

“You’ve barely been here two months,” Margie states trying to calm the room. “We know now, and we can help make it right.”

Lucy shakes her head, “We don’t even know what we need to make right.” She slides her chair backward. “We are going to go help John this afternoon. After that, we should all sit down and go over the journals and bible together, maybe?”

Harris’ brows furrowed, “Lucy, I don’t think it’s wise to go in there. I know you want to help-”

“It’s my land, my property, my problem,” Lucy states as she stands up, “I am not sitting on the sidelines anymore.”

***

Lucy, Cooper, John, and Bert stand at the edge of the forest, Lucy had done up a crude map of the trails she could mostly remember. She had photocopied them so each person had one, radios, and compasses were passed around. Each ATV was checked over making sure fuel tanks were full. Guns carefully strapped into place, along with extra clips. Lucy hoped they wouldn't need them. On top of that they strapped on crates with rope, knives, tools, and first aid kits, along with anything else they might need.

“So we each take a trail, stick to the path, mark it as we go so we can find our way out. The yellow fence line is parkland, we won’t go past that. Barbwire is either John’s land to the west or Cooper’s to the east. If you make it that far there should be gates that you can use to circle back up to the road. See anything-” Lucy stops her speech for a moment collecting herself. “I mean anything, weird, strange, cow, whatever, you radio. There is no point in any of us getting hurt. Sunsets around nine, but we should try to get out by no later than eight.”

The men nod, at her words, Lucy surprising herself by how calm and level-headed she felt. Not to mention the men listening to her, and not arguing with what she had to say. It felt odd being the one in charge, but this was also her land. It didn’t feel like hers, it didn’t feel like anyones, but if there was anyone who needed to be held accountable for it it was Lucy. She was tired and scared, but she was not going back down, not now.

“The radios we have should cover the whole area without an issue, if you run into issues and can’t get a hold of us come back here,” Cooper adds, making sure everyone nods. “All the families have been told if they don’t hear from us by nine to send emergency crews in.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Bert chirps, looking out towards the gaping mouth of the forest.

Lucy inwardly cringing, she and Cooper had decided not to fill in the others about the supernatural possibilities. Having people scared would help no one. Lucy wasn’t even sure she fully believed any of it. Was something really haunting the woods? Was her grandfather really feeding it? Had it taken her Dad?

“It’s just precaution,” John adds, peering towards their destination and waking Lucy from her musing. “Never know, better safe than sorry.”

“Well, let’s get going.” Bert smiles, jumping onto the four-wheel, he starts it up and takes off towards the trees.

Lucy feels her heart clench in her chest, a low ringing buzz just above the sound of the engine. She takes off after Bert, heading down southeast, Cooper goes directly east, Bert goes southwest, and John goes west. The trees had fully flushed out, leaves defusing the light, and the trails were clear despite having not been used much. She rode at a good clip, fast enough to keep moving but slow enough to take in what was around her.

The radio sits on her handlebars crackled occasionally, Lucy wanted to stop every time it made a sound, but made herself continue. Every shadow, discoloration, and movement had her head turning. The further she went, the darker the place seemed to get. The hair on her arm starts to stand up, even under the heavy sweater. She couldn’t help but look over her shoulder, feeling like something was following her. Something was watching her, just on the other side of a tree or bush.

Lucy stops as the radio crackles, her heart pounding in her chest, waiting to hear anything. When nothing came Lucy went to start up again, when a twig snapped to her right. Head turning almost painfully fast to look that way, nothing. Another snapped behind her, hair prickling at the back of her neck. Turning slower this time, Lucy nearly screams, as a black shadow slinks away behind a tree.

Her hand is on the radio now, tensed up in a panic, her shoulder gathered up against her ears. With no other movement, she goes to turn the machine back on when it crackles.

“This is John, did someone else go directly west?” John’s voice crackles across the forest. Lucy grabs her compass from her pocket seeing that she is still pointing mostly southwest.

“Lucy here, I am heading southwest,” Lucy replies, Bert comes over the radio saying that he is also mostly south. It was a tense moment before Cooper replies that he had turned so that he was going northeast.

“Alright, umm, guess we’ll call that weird then. I am gonna start heading up the northwest side towards the gate.” John radios, before it goes silent again. She couldn’t help but hear the hesitation in his voice, whatever was out there had spotted them.

Lucy takes one last look around her, eyes narrowing in on the grey flesh of a stripped tree stump. She gets off her ATV and walks towards it, her heart thudding against her ears. The image of a fresh coyote head on top of stripped wood flashed in her mind. As she walks up to it she can see bones lying around. If you weren’t looking for it, it would have just blended into the forest. She stops a yard or so from it. The tingling feeling of anxiety rushes down her neck like cold water.

Turning around in a full circle Lucy could just see further another stump. She would bet money that it was also surrounded by bones. Walking quickly back to her ATV she pulls out the map and marks it approximately. How many were out here? Was this like the stumps that were in the bible? The illustration had shown sigils or ruins, but now they were worn from years of wear.

She turns her ATV on and continues southeast, eyes peeled for any other out-of-place signs. As she drove she would stop and note down other stumps, if she went and stood at one looking west she could see all of them in what was becoming a half-moon shape. Four total, Lucy’s gut feeling was there would be thirteen, one for each month. Placed on purpose, spaced evenly, all surrounded by bone. Every single one made her skin crawl and made her wonder if she was losing her mind.

The radio crackled again, Lucy stopping immediately and listening. More crackling, muffled noises, then nothing. Her heart lurched, stomach twisting as she waited for any word.

“I think-” Interference, “A cow,” It was Bert, “Least what’s left off it.”

“Where are you?” Lucy asked, already turning the machine around so that she could head in the right direction. She’d start to head west and hope that she could find Bert.

“If you head to the main trail-” Static, Lucy fires up the ATV keeping the radio turned up. “Southwest-” Lucy strained to hear, “-go directly south.” His voice seemed softer and softer and Lucy roared towards him. “next fork - west“

“Roger, roger,” We are heading your way, Cooper's voice rang over the radio. She felt her heart clench knowing that he was not far away, it was both comforting and concerning.

“Shouldn’t be far,” John added, Lucy's heart thundering in her chest, fingers aching from holding onto the handlebars so tightly. She kept looking over her shoulder, searching for something in the woods she couldn’t see. The bumps and jumps of the machine propelled her forward. The trees opened into the middle clearing, Lucy skillfully following down southwest. Behind her she could make out the roar of another engine, looking back she could just make out Cooper’s white hat.

It was a comfort knowing that he was close behind her, hitting the fork she went south. Her radio crackling but nothing, she continued along the path ducking past brushes as they slapped towards her. Mouth dry as she tries to urge the thing forward. A burst of static echoed louder than the previous almost stopping Lucy.

“HELP,”

Lucy grabbed the walkie doing her best to continue to drive one-handed. “BERT.”

“It’s here,”

“What what is it,” John calls out over the radio. “I am not far, Bert. Hold on.”

“Oh god,”

“Oh god.”

Lucy clipped the walkie back on, riding as fast as the old ATV would go, she could hear Cooper not far behind her. As she hit the fork to head west a scream rang out, Lucy felt her ears ring. Her eyes blurring as the world spun, she blinks several times trying to make her eyes work.

“Bert, Bert,” Cooper called over and over, Lucy hearing his voice behind her and in front of her as they roared towards their destination.

Lucy spotting John flying up coming to join the west trail, his hat had been lost somewhere along the way. Lucy slows down to let him go ahead, Cooper now only a dozen yards behind her. Bushes and trees slap her face as they road toward Bert should have been.

As they came up over a hill Lucy had a split second of red lights warning her as she skidded to a stop just beside John. The man was off his ATV, gun in hand as he made his way over to the empty four-wheeler. Lucy parked hers, grabbing her gun and extra clip in her pocket. Cooper is skidding to a stop a moment behind them, the three of them gathering at the empty ATV. There are skid marks behind the machine, a few scuffs in the ground, and his gun was gone.

“Bert,” Lucy calls out, his name echoing through the tree, her voice bouncing around like she was in a funhouse. “Bert! Come on, answer us!”

“No sign of the Bert, or the cow,” John says, looking around the place, all of them naturally staying close to each other. Lucy faces one way, and Cooper faces the opposite of her. A perfect triangle as they move. “No sign of anything really.”

Cooper moves over, Lucy watching him as he walks past the ATV. Her eyes spotted what he was looking at, another stump, stripped of bark. Some of the symbols were more pronounced on this one, almost looking fresh.

“Is that another stump?” Lucy asks, moving towards where Cooper is now crouching down. He’d take out a knife to uncover some bones that lay covered in dirt around it. Lucy reaching out to trace over the ruins, the ringing in her ears stopping as she followed them all over the stump.

Cooper looks up, his hazel eyes barely visible under the shadow of his hat, “I saw some when I was driving around. All had bones around them like this.”

“W-w-what are those?” John’s face was pale, his hand fiddling with the stock of his gun. He had walked over to stand near the other two.

“I am not sure. I don’t remember seeing this many before.” Lucy replies, trying to keep her voice level and calm. Her mind played over all the different illustrations of symbols, people standing around a stump. The face of the coyote flashed behind her eyes.

“But these are old. Like really old.” John points out, jumping when a twig breaks, his breath is ragged as he looks around.

Lucy and Cooper both stand looking towards the noise, Cooper swiftly pocketing the knife to replace it with the rifle. They all stand for a moment, the silence swallowing them.

“Bert! Bert!” Lucy calls out again, hoping that it was him walking back towards them. “Where are you? Call out so we can come get you.”

John was now backing up towards his ATV, Lucy could see that he was shaking as he looked out towards the forest. It felt darker, much darker than it should have been for mid-afternoon. It was as if all the light was slowly being sucked out from around them.

“Somethin’s wrong,” Cooper murmured, making Lucy jump as his hand clasps her shoulder. He was starting to push her towards the four-wheelers, she could feel her heart start to hammer in her chest.

“We should call Harris,” Lucy says the dread had now seeped into her bones. Cooper was right, Bert wasn’t replying and there was no sign of him.

“No signal this deep in.” John replied phone in a shaky hand, “Probably thirty minutes from anywhere that would have a signal.”

Another twig snap had them all whirling, again facing nothing but trees and bushes.

Lucy

Ringing splitting Lucy’s head as her name came spilling from every direction. Double over she covers her ears, trying to get it to stop. Cooper is in the same position, forehead creased as he groans. John stares at both of them as he stands perfectly still, eyes wide, phone dropping to the ground as his mouth falls open.

Cooper

John swings around, clearly hearing what they are. Lucy slowly tries to right herself, her eyes blurry as she tries to focus. Cooper leaning heavily against the stump, the forest is spinning past them. She falls and hits the ground, her body screaming at her to keep moving but it feels like someone has put a lead blanket across her body.

“John,” Lucy croaks, trying to get his attention. He looks like he is miles away, a small pin prick in the distance. “Go, get Harris.”

John is stooping down behind herm helping Cooper up. “No, I am staying with you.” He is beside her now, his hands under her arms as he hoists her against the machine.

Lucy - Cooper - John

They all stood now, heads as clear as possible the sound of their names coming from all directions. The echoing impossibly around them as if it was coming from hundreds of different voices, tones, and places. The place is so dark they might as well be in a cave, not able to see more than a few yards ahead of them. The wind picking up moves trees above, sending shivers across all of them, the only noise beside their panting breath.

“That-what- what the fuck,” John states, eyes wide as he looks around. Lucy barely kept herself standing, her legs wobbly as the voice kept screaming their names

“Lucy!” Bert’s voice carries, this time sounding less like static ringing and more human.

Lucy moves towards it, her feet moving without thought, Cooper immediately grabbing her arm. “Lucy, we can’t. We don’t know what that is.”

“It’s Bert,” Lucy protests, trying to move away from him, Cooper’s grip only tightening further. He was right, she knew that, she knew it didn't sound right. Yet she wanted to go to them, she needed to go to them.

“Lucy, think about this. We need to stop and think.” Cooper demands, somehow breaking through the fog. “We gotta stick together. Can either leave and get help, or we all go look for Bert.”

A screech breaks through the air, right in front of them as John’s body falls forward, something grabbing his ankle and starting to drag him backward. Lucy is stunned for a moment before she jumps forward, gun abandoned as she chases after John. His face rubs against the dirt hands desperately trying to grab onto anything and everything he can. A shot rings out in the air, Lucy instinctively duckling down. Her knees hit the ground and she rolls for a second before she is back up. John continues to scream as he grabs for purchase onto a tree.

Lucy reaches for him, “Don’t let go!” Her hands find his, his eyes wide as he screams.

Part Twelve

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

*I I know I know cliff hangers, but what's a horror read without a cliff hanger?

*want to be on the tag list? add your name below

@toogaytofunctiondangit , @hiddlebatchedloki @whatsorceressisthis @dichromaniac @autumncryptids

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kainorigin · 1 year

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Pride month LaVey family🏳️‍🌈

#monster prom #monster camp #monsterpromfanart #damien lavey #damien's dads

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cookinguptales · 6 months

Text

Okay so now that I've had some time to digest and think about Late Night with the Devil, some thoughts.

Sorry in advance, this got really, REALLY long as I rambled about all-male secret societies, who and what was possessing whom throughout this movie, literal and metaphorical hauntings, how fame and fortune tempt us all to give up our humanity, and uh. Family youtubers.

I really enjoyed the film, but I do have to wonder, to start with, if other people will get all the allusions...? I didn't think about it until later when I was reading confused posts by other viewers, but I guess the film does kind of predicate on a lot of somewhat arcane knowledge. Like you can understand what's going on without it, but I do think you get a lot more enjoyment out of it if you have a good working understanding of, like, the Satanic Panic of the 70s, the parapsychology/esper craze, James Randi's whole thing, Anton LaVey, Waco, late night hosts like Johnny Carson, and of course the Bohemian Grove.

The Bohemian Grove is kind of... like, obviously a lot of the people making up conspiracy theories about that recently are alt-right assholes (see: Alex Jones), but it is very much a real thing. It's kind of a modern Masonic situation, imo, where you get these big groups of rich, influential men together and they do silly, juvenile vaguely pagan frat boy shit. It's edgelord stuff. But because they are secretive and they are powerful, people come up with all of these conspiracy theories about them.

(I mean lbr that's kind of the history of the occult in general, isn't it? lmao. People ask me if I was afraid when I was studying secret societies and occultism and it's like -- no, these were by and large just rich assholes fighting over headcanons about rituals that they made up based off of deeply faulty scholarship. But I digress.)

The fact of the matter, though, is even if the actual rituals and stuff are kind of silly, the main focus is really rich, powerful men meeting up with other rich, powerful men and networking like crazy. It does keep the rich rich, the powerful powerful, and political resources focused on men. Like the Masons, women aren't allowed in the Bohemian Grove -- and women in politics have bitterly criticized the way that they're being excluded from this kind of networking.

(God, it's so fratty. It's so fucking fratty.)

So in that respect, it is kind of something to be feared.

And... I do think you see that aspect of it reflected in Late Night with the Devil. The consolidation of power, the networking with shitty people, and the way that women are "sacrificed."

[massive spoilers for the entire film to follow!]

I do think I want to see this movie again to firm up some of my ideas, because I suspect that there are a lot of details that I missed the first time I watched this. (And I really should have watched the open captioned version of this; I couldn't understand a lot of what the demon was saying, rip.) But here are some initial thoughts.

The heart of this, obviously, is the demonic presence at the Grove and the way that men go there to sell their soul for power. In a very literal sense, that's what's happening in this film and it's what happened to Jack Delroy. He made a deal with a demon for fame, and that demon ended up taking everything from him to achieve that.

But... metaphorically speaking, it seems clear that Jack Delroy was very willing to make human sacrifices in his day-to-day life. He may have literally (and I think accidentally) sacrificed his wife's life to a demon at the Grove, but he very consciously and willingly sacrificed her for fame when she was alive, too. I mean... imagine having a spouse who is actively dying of cancer and making her make an appearance on your show two weeks before she passes. For ratings. Imagine how much it must have physically taxed her. Imagine how difficult it must have been for them both emotionally. It even could have hastened her death. But he was still willing to do all that for views. He sacrificed his wife, his home life, and his overall privacy for views.

(Family youtubers, anyone? 🙃)

He's also willing to sacrifice his girlfriend, his crew, his audience, and a little girl for ratings. Gus, his voice of reason. He was willing to humiliate him onstage and wouldn't let him go home when he was scared. His audience, whose trauma he was entirely willing to capitalize on through Christou's act. His gf, who I'd argue was probably using Lilly as well, was totally thrown to the wolves when he realized it'd make good television.

Like -- yes, there were supernatural forces at play. Supernatural forces claimed these lives. But Jack sure as shit wasn't being very careful with them, and these supernatural sacrifices always, always mirrored his mundane ones.

(I mean... he performed a human sacrifice of a little girl on national television while in a hallucination about using the sacrificial dagger on his dying wife. It wasn't subtle. lmao)

Moreover, the producers of the show were also very willing to put people in harm's way and capitalize on tragedy for ratings. So... there's a really unsubtle message here about fame and capitalism and the way it tempts you to sacrifice your humanity to get ahead.

(MAYBE LIKE UNDERMINING YOUR ARTISTIC INTEGRITY BY USING AI INSTEAD OF HIRING ARTISTS, IDK)

I'd in fact argue that pretty much everyone who got on that stage that night sacrificed their humanity a bit for fame, with the possible exception of Gus. Gus was the voice of reason, but I mean... he was still there. Maybe a message about how once you get in, you can't get out. :(

But yeah, Jack's obvious, but also Christou, who was willing to use people's trauma for fame. June, who was willing to use a little girl's incredible trauma to advertise for her new book. Carmichael, who got off on humiliating people just to make himself seem smart.

Like... they all started with a kernel of something good (wanting to help the grieving, wanting to help traumatized children, wanting to stop charlatans) but in the end, show biz turned all those urges into the most amoral, selfish, and cruel versions of themselves.

And all of those people crumbled when they were confronted with something real.

(Side note, our theater was in hysterics when Carmichael tried to offer the demon the check. lmao)

Truthfully, it felt like all of them had made their own individual deals with the devil years ago. Halloween 1977 was just the devil finally coming to take his due.

That's the main message of the movie, I think, but there are still some smaller details I want to talk about.

The Grove itself was an obvious allusion to the Bohemian Grove, which is a secret society of powerful men who meet amongst the redwoods in Northern California. Their mascot has always been an owl, which is why you repeatedly see the owl motif throughout the movie. (Happy Owl-ween, the owl mask, etc.)

Abrasax makes sense as a demon to choose (the strong historical associations with magic and demonology, the reoccurrences in many world religions (and occult groups), the role in Gnosticism, etc.) but there seem to be vibes of Stolas, an owl deity who communicates arcane knowledge to humans in exchange for their souls, as well. I noticed a lot of little allusions to Abrasax throughout the film even before Lilly started manifesting, like the movie being shown after the show being about Abrasax.

Lilly... She was rescued from a cult that seems to be a hybrid of Anton LaVey's Church of Satan and the Branch Davidians who died during a siege by the US government in Waco, TX. (Like the cultists in the movie, their compound caught fire when they were being raided. IRL, it's unclear whether the fire was started as a suicide cult situation or if it was started by the actions of the government as they tried to flush people out.) In this cult, girls were sacrificed at age 13, and all who witnessed that sacrifice would fall under the control of Abrasax.

So... she was rescued at age 10. Three years have passed. So she is now 13, the age at which these girls were sacrificed. She was due, in other words. Who and what was possessing her... that's the question, I guess. Demons, historically speaking, were known to speak foreign languages, speak in the voice of other humans, have psychic knowledge their hosts shouldn't know, etc. So she did exhibit symptoms like that.

I think... there are a couple of options here. There's Abrasax specifically, there's June's theory that she was possessed by a minor demon, and there's Minnie. Or a combination of the three.

It's pretty clear that Minnie's presence is felt throughout the whole taping. You can see her reflection various times throughout the movie, she manifested through Christou, and obviously you see her in the tape playback.

(And when I say my theater YELLED. lmao)

The question is, though... Is it really Minnie? And if it is, what does she want? Has she been haunting Jack all along? Is she there because, as it's the first Halloween after her death, it's her last chance to deal with her unfinished business? Did the demon allow her to manifest? Or was the whole thing an illusion created by the demon all along?

(I'd like to note here that, historically speaking, there was a theory that ghosts aren't actually real. They're actually demons masquerading as the spirits of departed loved ones, and they want you to summon them and listen to them so they can tempt you away from God. You can read this in the writings of a lot of the ancient Christian theologians. Or you could have talked to my grandmother, who also told me this when I was a kid! :') But she's dead now so I guess you'd have to do a summoning and find out for yourself.)

All that said... I come down between two current theories. I'd have to watch it again to firm up my ideas.

The first theory is that she's been trapped on earth for the past year, but because it's Halloween, she can haunt them. They mention at the beginning of the film that Halloween is a recent spirit's last chance to take care of unfinished business. So this could have been the case with Minnie. That said... what exactly was her unfinished business? Was she trying to protect Jack and the others? Or hurt them? Was she angry, or was she just, as Christou said, sad? Was her "an unmarried man wearing a wedding ring" referring to the way that Jack was grieving her and still wearing his ring, or the way that he wasn't much of a husband to her when she was alive?

The second theory is that, when she was sacrificed to Abrasax, she became a part of that legion. She was, like Lilly and the other little girls, essentially raised to be sacrificed, and once she was, she joined everyone else who is under the control of the deity. It's still hard to sense whether she was trying to help or hurt throughout the broadcast, but it explains her presence (she came with Lilly, not Jack) and how she was used during Jack's hallucinations to ultimately get him to perform the sacrifice on Lilly, thus bringing all audience members (both in the studio and at home) under Abrasax's control.

Either way, Minnie, in this film, is literal ghost haunting the stage -- but also a metaphorical one. The ghost of all of Jack's past misdeeds and the humanity he's sacrificed to get ahead. She's guilt and she's shame and she's desperate grief, and I guess it's no wonder that the negativity surrounding her was enough to kill Christou when he touched it.

I do think it's fascinating that all of the women in this movie are, in a very real and physical sense, sacrificed for the aspirations of men. (The little girls are sacrificed, Minnie died of a mysterious cancer, June dies because Jack pushed for her to stay, etc.) But metaphorically speaking that seems to be the case as well. They're constantly expected to put their own comfort and safety aside for the men in their lives, and their own aspirations are consumed by the men's.

Like I said, it feels very telling that women aren't allowed at the Grove. Women are constantly being denied power in this movie (or are only allowed power when it's in service to a male costar/deity) and it's largely because they just don't have the connections that the men do. The deals were made while they weren't in the room, essentially.

I'm not sure if that was a conscious choice being made, but it does seem to dovetail nicely with the strong, strong sexism and male privilege present in real-life secret societies of powerful men that disallow women. Like June only getting to shill for her book because Jack let her, women are only allowed at the real-life Bohemian Grove in very limited areas -- and only as a male member's guest.

Um... back to Lilly, though. What the hell is possessing her? She speaks as Minnie a few times, but that could be because Minnie is a part of their legion or just because she's trying to freak out Jack. Demons are known to lie using the voices of loved ones. Minnie's presence could have been influencing her, but I definitely don't think that's all that was in there.

The question, really, seems to arise from what June said about Lilly changing like a week ago and how she started talking about Jack nonstop. At least one presence in Lilly seems to be the same deity that Jack spoke to in the Grove when he was making his deal with the devil (so to speak) because it mentioned that encounter. But is that the only one in there? Is it the same deity that's always been in there? Or did it come to her only a week ago as a way to get to Jack and complete their contract? ("It is done.")

Lilly refers to her demon as Mr. Wriggles (which feels like an Exorcist allusion) and it seems like she has a pretty good lid on it. And when that demon is brought out of her by June, it seems confused and frightened. But Lilly is pretty clearly possessed the entire rest of the broadcast, so really the two options are that she was faking the entire time just to fuck with them (entirely possible) or there were two different deities, perhaps the original (lesser) one put in her in the cult and Abrasax(?) newly arrived to claim Jack and his audience.

It's fascinating watching her, because you can see her slip in and out of a possessed state several times when people aren't paying attention to her (jerking, spacing out, etc.) but it's hard to tell whether that's different presences coming in and out of control, her "talking" to what's inside her, etc. Again, this is a thing I think would benefit from multiple viewings. I'm really not sure if the Grove creature is new to her body or if it's been there all along biding its time, and it's only changing its behavior now because it wanted to be on tv.

While her recently changed behavior seems to lean towards the former, I am sort of stuck on the detail that Jack said early on, that he read June's book and couldn't stop thinking about it. That could just be normal fascination (and he did end up having an affair with her) but it could also be demonic intervention. That would indicate that the demon was manipulating him into putting Lilly on TV long before a week ago.

What is not really up for debate is that the presence inside Lilly now is one that has connections to Jack through the Grove and promised him fame. Lilly (before she was visibly possessed) alludes to this promise by telling Jack that he'll be very famous after tonight. And once the ritual starts, she is seen taking electrical energy from the set and cameras. She is literally getting her power from the audience viewing the sacrifice. (It's very Ringu.) And after Jack stabs Lilly, the studio audience, audience at home, and presumably real-life audience watching this movie, are all put under Abrasax's control.

("Hail Abrasax" is seen multiple times throughout the film, which might also imply that the documentarians themselves are trying to spread this contagion after watching the video.)

Uh... a few more small things.

Carmichael Haig is obviously James Randi. Like Houdini before him, Randi was also a stage magician who dedicated his life to exposing "supernatural" charlatans. He did indeed offer a huge sum of money to whoever could prove him wrong. Carmichael even looked like James Randi. (Though I'd point out that "Haig" is the name of the man who constructed the owl statue at the real-life Bohemian Grove!) I suppose it makes sense that he'd be such an asshole in a world where demonic possession does actually exist.

The one thing I'd say is... it's hard to say whether this was a case of the filmmakers not thinking through implications or if this really was a nasty joke, but Randi was, IRL, gay. He came out late in life and got married to a man shortly before he died. So the implication that Carmichael, in the movie, wanted to join the Grove largely because he was perverted is... iffy. Carmichael was never stated to be gay in the movie (that I noticed) and it's hard to suss out whether the orgies he was talking about were relating to the all-male membership of the Grove (i.e. a gay orgy) or the women that these powerful men had hanging all over them (i.e. a... less gay orgy) and I do think which they were implying has major implications for what they were saying about a man who was, IRL, gay.

Like... if the implication was that he must've been willing to hurt people in order to have wild sex because he's gay, that's uh! Not great! But if the creators didn't realize that aspect of Randi's life (it was less publicized because, as I mentioned, it happened later in his life) then they might have just been pushing on that trope of powerful men using women.

Really, really hard to say.

Next, Christou. Christou... it's hard to say whether the man was psychic at all. It's clear that he was doing a lot of fake-ass cold reading beforehand (though I do want to go back through it and see if there really was any allusion to a Peter- character involving the skeleton) and was using interviews to find grieving audience members. (Two practices that James Randi talked about a lot IRL.) But he also did have a very real experience when he sensed Minnie and, while overwhelmed, didn't seem particularly shocked by it.

If I had to guess, I think that Christou does have some psychic powers (which is why I want to investigate the Peter thing) but can't control them well and is easily overwhelmed by real phenomena. He plays things up for the cameras (I noticed his accent slipped when he had his real experience, lmao) but I wouldn't be surprised if, like everyone else on stage, there's a kernel of something real in him.

Finally... that fucking skeleton! I want to do an entire watch through just to examine that guy. He was in the flashbacks about the Grove, so I think it's likely that he might've been a member of that. He also is the only one who refuses to take off his mask, which seems to relate to the dialogue at the beginning of the film about wearing a mask to protect yourself from spirits during Halloween. I think he's definitely in on what's going on, to some extent, but it's hard to figure out exactly in what capacity. Was it a Grove member, or maybe a cult member? A follower of Abraxas? Was it actually the personification of Death?

Hard! To! Say!

Like I said, I really do want to rewatch this movie to pay more attention to small details I might've missed in the theater. I'm also looking forward to seeing it with subtitles. It wasn't a perfect movie, but it was intriguing and original enough that I really enjoyed it and want to watch it again to puzzle through it. Really, the one big mark against it was the brief use of AI, which is just -- god, it's infuriating.

It's such a small part, so it would have been so easy to not do. (Apparently it wasn't even IN the first festival showing.) But it kind of pollutes the whole movie, especially when such a large message is not fucking over real people in the quest for success in the media landscape.

Plus, it just kind of looked like shit.

I know it's probably a lost cause, but I would be thrilled if they hired a real artist and redid those images for the Shudder release. It would be so easy to fix, and it would make the movie a lot better. Those commercial breaks were so funny and if they had better interstitials (that didn't make you feel icky just looking at them) then it would boost an already great film.

I just. I don't even know why they did it in the first place. I'm guessing, based on the fact that they weren't in the original screenings, that they were pressed for time to finish things...? But come on, surely you can find some artist who can do something quick for you. It wasn't even a moving image.

So uh... yeah, I guess that's where I'm at. It was an interesting (if slightly hokey) movie pulling together a lot of threads to make something cool and mysterious, I liked a lot of the acting (particularly Jack Delroy's) and set design, I wanna chat with people about it -- but I can't really in good conscience fully recommend it because of the AI thing. It's just such a disgrace to artistic integrity. Here's hoping they hire a real fucking artist.

#this got really long sorry lmao #really though more than anything this just made me feel like #damn why did I stop coming out to the bourse and east #like yeah they're a little further than the PFS center and the amc but not by much #I felt so nostalgic there #I gotta get back into seeing weird indie movies I miss it #late night with the devil

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zablife · 1 year

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Stolen Angel

Created for @call-sign-shark 1K celebration. Congrats again, darling! I chose the 2nd theme: angel with the angst prompt "This isn't right." I hope you enjoy it!

John Shelby x Heaven Lavey Shelby

A/N: Heaven Shelby is an OC belonging to @call-sign-shark and is Arthur Shelby's wife.

John always felt a deep connection to his brother’s wife, Heaven. When the enemy attacked him on his doorstep Christmas morning 1925, he swore he saw a blinding light around her small frame as she used all her healing powers to pry him from the cold embrace of death. Now he felt bound to protect the woman he thought of as his guardian angel. It was a vow he upheld when Arthur stole himself away from the Changrettas and everyone he cared about.

John was merely a brother doing his duty to family. However, the tenuous thread between friendship and something more suddenly snapped when Heaven confided she wished to stay longer. She needed time to herself after Arthur’s deceit which had been too much for their short marriage to bear. When Heaven realized they were crossing a line she warned, "This isn't right," and John had to agree.

Arthur was his flesh and blood after all, but he couldn't help the overwhelming feeling that his loyalties were shifting despite himself. Every moment spent in Heaven's intoxicating company convinced him they were meant for one another. Each morning with the children a glimpse of what their life together could be. When Arthur returned one day high on snow, angry and violent, it was all John needed to act swiftly and mercilessly.

He tortured himself with the memory of his fateful decision every day for years to come as he sat rotting in his prison cell without so much as a letter from the woman he was so enchanted with long ago. He was only certain of one thing when he thought of atonement for Arthur’s murder. He had attempted to bend the will of the heavens and fallen into the depths of hell in the process. He would spend the rest of his life praying to be forgiven for stealing God's most cherished creature from his own kin.

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Tag list:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@notyour-valentine

@areyenotfondofmelobster

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@lyarr24

@jomarch-wannabe

@the-fangirl-diaries

@helen06dreamer

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@dearshelby

@cillmequick

@cljordan-imperium

@pacifymebby

@peakyltd

@brummiereader

@multifandomwriter56

@runnning-outof-time

@emotionalcadaver

#john shelby fanfic #john shelby imagine #john shelby x oc #john shelby #Heaven Shelby #zablife moodboard #Shark's 1K

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richardsletters · 2 years

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“Dear Jodi,

Hi thank you for the photos. They were cool. Good to hear from you again! Is that you in the pictures? Getting a job as a teacher shouldn't be too bad. When do you go back to school? Say hi to Troy for me. I did get a few letter's from him which I'll answer soon. Hope you can read my writing ok. It's 1 AM. I don't have a desk and my pen is less than stellar. I did visit some cities in Mexico. Never did go to the pyramids. Wish I had though. I wonder if you could climb the pyramids in Egypt. You think? Have you ever been to Israel or do you intend to go someday? What do you think about what is going over there? Your last name is Jewish? Thanx for telling me about the Jewish faith and whether they believe in the devil. I was kinda right then cause I had a jewish lawyer (-> They are some of the best lawyer's around) back in 85 and he told me they didn't believe in the devil. Me + him parted ways cause we couldn't get along the following year. You say that in christianity, the devil punishes the sinner, you think? Maybe there's something to that rolling stones song "Sympathy for the devil" after all. ha The part where it says "what busted you is the nature of my game". ha I alwayas thought that in religions, god was the punisher. You know when god gets pissed (according to the bible) it's bad news. ha Noah's ark, Saddam + Gomora + all that. Ah you an atheist then? I do remember (I think) you telling me this in one of your past letters. You + Troy seem to make a perfect couple. You both very smart. How did you guys meet? Whats a " Bris for the child (?)" mean? Is that like circumcision? Foreskin being cut off? Ouch. :) Yes indeed I know what you mean when you write that your different views on religion from the ones your family has can create problems. Same here. My family is catholic and I'm a satanist :) And also with all the different idologies and mind sets in the world I'm suprised the world isn't a more chaotic place. Have you been watching the news re: The catholics and protestants going at it in Ireland? I've created my own religion.:) Its called "I believe in what I want to believe in." ha I don't follow any one satanic groups preachings. I believe in God- and Satan as being a spirit. a spirit who rebelled against God and has legions of demons all over the worl. Pretty weird concept huh? ha I do know alot of Satanists don't believe in Satan as an actual being or spirit. Nope I don't remember meeting Lavey. It's possible though but I doubt it. Rumor has it he was a big fibber. ha I did meet his daughter Zeena though who had a falling out with him. I did hear about that Ed Gein movie. I doubt I'll ever see it. You gonna go check out From Hell with Johnny Depp? 13 Ghosts looks pretty good. I know Texas Chainsaw Massacre was done with Ed Gein's crimes in mind. You're seen that one? I do have pics on my wall yup here's a drawing of my cell for you. Pretty gruesome huh? ha I've been living in these cells for 16 years now. Ugh! ha Yeah the WTC attack in NY was something else. I saw it happen live on TV. Looked like something straight out of a movie. Your bible story of Ishmael and Isaac was interesting maybe that really is where the feud started eh? I can see them on that game show "The Family Feud". ha That drawing you sent me from the internet was really cool. Thanx. Now if you'll excuse me my love (hope you don't mind me calling you that :) ) I have to retire for the night. Jeeves, Bring me my glass of warm milk. :) I'll end here, hope to hear from you again soon. All my best <3 Own the day, Richard.”

“PS Don't send polaroids”

#richard ramirez #richard ramirez letters #the night stalker #satan #satanist #jewish #9/11 #satanism #anton lavey

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givemearmstopraywith · 6 months

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As a lover of god, I’m curious. what are your thoughts on Satanists? 👀

they're cool! i am not a huge fan of anton lavey. this isn't true, i actively really dislike him the same way i dislike, for instance, martin luther, on both personal and "theological" levels, although laveyan satanism isn't theistic so i'm not sure you can call it a unified theology. in terms of lavey as the originator of satanism, i think his thought was unsound and more sensationalistic than genuine, more out of a desire to rile people and poke fun at major religions than any particular sense of moral or ethical reasoning. i see this in his exploitation of his daughter in particular. i empathize with zeena lavey, i feel for her, and have always been interested in the paralells between her relationship with her father and that between aleister crowley and his daughter lola.

i like that satanism acts as a foil to religion by calling attention to its hypocrisy and the overprivileging of christianity, especially evangelicalism/christian nationalism, over other faith practices. but i have the same criticism of satanism that i do of martin luther and christianity. if your ideology can be coopted by nazis, its bad ideology. of course this is a very generalized assessment since almost anything can be coopted by white supremacists and nazis for their own ends, but lavey was lenient on white supremacists who found empowerment in satansim, and i never liked that much. i mean, he did admit that satanism was just ayn rand philosophy with ceremony and ritual, so im not surprised.

i have less of a unified thought on theistic satanism because of how splintered it is- i don't really believe in the christian notion of satanism, or any particular notion of satan in general. i don't know enough about it to have any useful comments to make. i've met lots of satanists i like (one of my closest friends was a satanist when we met), and in terms of politics i think the satanic panic of the 80s never died and was a concerted effort to disguise much worse abuses within christian institutions and family units by playing off religious anxieties.

there is little comprehensive philosophical or theological thinking on satanism, but as much as i can venture it in a tumblr post all belief, in anything, even only the self, is still ultimately a belief in the same thing i believe in. the way i understand God he is as present in his absence as in his evidence: so in my mind, as long as we are all working towards ultimate good (even personal good) rather than purely self-service without due interest in goodness that transcends what is dictated by authority to be "good" in an attempt to be absolutely good, which i think many satanists ultimately do, we all believe the same intrinsic thing. God is matter, thinginess: the fact that God is matter sanctifies the world as part of him. but i also see God as absence. God's absence is also holy: what many christians might call profane is then also holy. if i love God, i love his absence too. satanism seems to me, an intentional manifestation of that absence: religion without God, or a very christian-style theism without the trinitarian godhead, and frankly both are a valid undertaking that i genuinely think should be considered as potentially fruitful by people in my own field (christianity desperately needs to get humble in how it deals with comparative theologies and interreligious dialogue).

#replies

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satanismeng · 2 months

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Religions and Satanism: Why Might Satanists Be More Conflict-Prone?

Norms and values are often imposed from outside, preserved, and steeped in their own delusions for centuries, sometimes even thousands of years. A mentally healthy person with critical thinking and independence will inevitably enter into various conflicts with an inadequate environment. A Satanist is primarily a realist who understands the diversity of human nature and recognizes that others may react negatively to what does not align with their worldview.

Some traditions retain their meaning and do not cause harm, but more often in radical religious communities, they can have a colossal negative impact on all aspects of a person's life.

Satanism teaches that each person is their own god and has the sole right to determine their destiny. LaVey emphasized the importance of awareness of one's own power and independence. It is usually this element that puts Satanists in opposition. When a mentally healthy person finds themselves in a family dominated by outdated traditions and dogmas, conflicts are inevitable. Therefore, they will not blindly obey authorities or other traditions if they are not symbolic and contradict their beliefs.

This discrepancy with the "standard" often leads to misunderstanding and sometimes contempt from other religions.

Psychology tells us about differences in levels of maturity and emotional stability. A mentally healthy person strives for honesty, openness, and self-expression, while in a stagnant environment, dogmatism and control prevail. As a result, a healthy person becomes a "white crow" whose behavior and thoughts will provoke aggression, as they literally destroy what others are afraid to stop believing in due to the time invested.

It's no secret that most cultural and religious dogmas serve as a brake on progress. For example, think of India. For centuries, they have remained at the same level of development due to the fear of discovering that their entire faith is a mere slave collar that simultaneously keeps them at the same level and gives false comfort—"everyone does it, so it must be true, and I will be reincarnated or go to heaven."

In conclusion, a mentally healthy person becomes a beacon of truth and common sense. LaVey's principles of Satanism—realism, individualism, and independence—provide a powerful tool for overcoming these conflicts and achieving inner peace. Remember, true freedom begins with recognizing your own power and the right to your own path.

#satanism #satanic #satanist #anton lavey #anton szandor lavey #laveyan satanism #satan

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bitter69uk · 2 years

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“She’s a role model, a mentor. She had so much aplomb. She’d wear spiked heels and gold lamé to take out the garbage. She literally lost her head. She started taking acid and cocaine and had the Church of Satan living in her house. I saw her as a child. I think that’s why I’m fascinated by her. She opened a shop in Sacramento, and I remember she was with this man, and she looked really big, and she had a really big hairdo, and I remember it was full of dirt. Tons of dirt stuck to her hairspray. I thought, Man – she’s so intense! I’ve been fascinated by her ever since.”

/ Poison Ivy Rorschach discussing Jayne Mansfield in an interview by the fabulous Siân Pattenden for the November 1994 issue of Select magazine /

It’s entirely appropriate and no surprise that “Addams Family of Punk” The Cramps venerated kitsch icon Jayne Mansfield (cinema’s sultan of sleaze John Waters, too, has been voluble on Mansfield’s impact on his campy sensibility). The Cramps referenced the sex kitten-gone-berserk at least twice in their lyrics: “Is this the way Jayne Mansfield died?” frontman Lux Interior leered on “Bend Over, I’ll Drive” from Look Mom, No Head! (1991). Later, he’d brag “I'm the feathered serpent of the Aztecs / I've weathered the invasion of the insects / I invented the Jayne Mansfield Nuclear project / The Pope genuflects to gain my respect” from “Confessions of a Psycho Cat” on Big Beat from Badsville (1997). In terms of Poison Ivy’s reflections above: like many of her Hollywood peers Mansfield would have popped “dolls” and diet pills and it’s speculated Mansfield experimented with LSD, but I’ve never seen cocaine consumption documented anywhere. (Jayne’s primary vice was alcohol). Mansfield’s fleeting dalliance with Anton LaVey (“Black Pope” of the Church of Satan) was a publicity stunt and he certainly never lived at the Pink Palace. And her recollection of Mansfield opening a store in Sacramento feels like a half-remembered David Lynch-ian fever dream! But some of Mansfield’s bouffant wigs in the sixties were pretty disheveled, so it could be true!

#jayne mansfield #sex kitten gone berserk #poison ivy rorschach #the cramps #poison ivy #lux interior #kitsch #john waters #vintage sleaze

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evita-shelby · 3 months

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They didn't know we were seeds

Chapter 14

Cw: past trauma, some prejudice, dysfunctional family, i also aged up Gina in this fic

Heaven Lavey belongs to @call-sign-shark thanks for letting me include her!!

@emotionalcadaver @justrainandcoffee @peakyswritings @call-sign-shark

While it isn’t unheard of for a victor to have siblings, it was a shock for most to know the genetically perfect sons of District 2's first career victor had an elder sister.

Katerina, who preceded Jack and Laurie and was an entire foot shorter. She was an amateur writer who never came first in any of the academy’s training but always first in the academic competitions of school.

She was twenty years old when Jack had volunteered, she had hugged him tightly and cried fearing he’d never come back. Katie’s lack of confidence in him had caused a rift between the siblings and when Laurie died, she had blamed mother and Jack for his death causing Jack to cut off ties with her.

His mom still spoke to her, once things had calmed down and the shrink convinced her that what she needed was to mend fences with Katie and close that chapter of their lives. Jack had yet to work up the courage to even acknowledge her existence to anyone. Eva didn’t know how bad things were between them, in fact he only said Katie lived far away and they had never been close.

A lie and a truth.

He used to defend Katie from bullies at school, they used to do facemasks together and she’d pluck his eyebrows before reaping days. When Laurie was lauded for being the carbon copy of their super dead dad, Jack would sling back into the shadows with her while his younger twin brother hogged the spotlight.

Then he won and Laurie died, and he was all alone in the spotlight.

“Laurie would be proud of you.” His mother whispers as he falters at Katie’s doorstep.

He feels stupid, fearing rejection like he rejected Katie’s apologies before cutting her out of his life all together.

So he knocks and when the door opens, he is struck by how time has not changed his sister like it did with him.

Her hair is back to red, she used to hate having been born a blonde so much she used to dye it. Then when Jack tossed her out of his life he had seen she had stopped dying it to keep any association with them to a minimum.

She is wary of his visit but for their mother’s sake doesn’t shut the door in his face.

“Hi, Katie.”

“I’m sorry for what I said and did, K, we were grieving him, and I shouldn’t have kicked you out of the house.” He feels like shit, rightfully so, but still, it is an unpleasant feeling.

But Laurie gains an aunt and Jack regains his only living sibling.

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have. But like you said we were grieving; you were still one foot in the arena, and I suppose I could forgive you one day.” Katie has their mom’s good sense, always the levelheaded one he’d go for advice on things. Not that he always took her advice, when he told her of his plan to volunteer to get his record wiped clean, he still went ahead and did it for a chance at glory and fame.

“I don’t blame you for that.” Once upon a time he would’ve taken this badly and burned that bridge to ash, especially after the games fucked him up. Now even he was shocked at how great he took it.

“So, now that we got that out of the way. Do you want to tell me about your romance with the victor from 10.” His sister asks something he can explain and knows his mother has softened Katie towards Eva if she’s not calling her Laurie’s murderer.

In fact, by the time Gina was dropped off by Carrie, they had made amends and would try to see Eva as another victim of the Games and not a murderer.

By the time July comes, Katie has forgiven him. Surprised him when she became acquainted with Lyme and began to talk to Eva on the telephone in efforts to see things from their perspective.

“Are you afraid one day Laurie’s name will be called?” Katie asks as they talk at the steps of the Justice Hall.

“That day won’t come. Gina and Laurie won’t ever face what we did.” Jack assures her before he is herded to the stage by the frivolous escort, Helvia Anderson, who’s too ecstatic to be there.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Twelve-year-old Regina Nelson is the one heard by Helvia amongst the girls shouting the words Jack has come to hate, “I volunteer as tribute!”

“My, oh my! Regina Nelson, our female tribute for the 72nd Hunger Games!” Helvia’s grating voice will forever haunt his nightmares.

Gina doesn’t understand why no one aside from her mother is proud of her for volunteering. “Do you think my dad would’ve been proud of me, Uncle Jack?”

There is an unsettling feeling from the white haired with the antler crown.

She is a quiet girl, fooling everyone into thinking she is weak and fragile and yet there was a thing in her eyes that tells Eva this will be another Johanna.

The Capitol and those watching would be shocked senseless when the slaughter happens, but every victor here knows the girl will leave with a crown of gold instead of antlers when its over.

Their tributes won’t have a chance against Heaven Lavey, hers will be lucky to survive the bloodbath.

This time they were barely 14 and 13, one from the chocolate plantations in the southernmost village and the other from the main town. Chel could survive in hiding but Andrew had been raised as the District Clerk’s son, his father even had two maids to do the cooking and the cleaning for them.

As usual, Eva’s advice is to run and only take what is lying at the edges, be wary but to try and make allies they trust. Mathew had encouraged the children to train in what they needed to improve and avoid becoming too close to the other tributes.

They aren’t your friends when the bell rings.

She cannot imagine how Jack is dealing with all of this; she hates how little she sees of him as he worries over his niece almost to the point of neglecting the male tribute. Both were children he trained but only one was his blood.

“How are you?” she asks the man barely holding it together as he took out his rage on the punching bag in his floor’s personal gym.

“How do you think?”

He’s not been himself, Lyme had commented that he’s not been eating and waking up screaming from night terrors that terrify Gina and 17-year-old Marius alike. She’s not been able to see him until the second day of training, but she’s not surprised to find him frayed at the seams knowing fully well he’s leaving the games with his niece in a casket.

He had regained his only sister only to lose his niece.

“Its not your fault, you had no idea this would happen, Jack.” Eva waits for him to finish up to speak to him knowing the hell he’s living.

“Just ‘cause you say it doesn’t make it true. Jack is prone to rage, the bruises on her neck that night had been a testament to that. This time it is the punching bag that bears witness to it. “I should’ve taken her from Carrie the moment I had a chance, I should’ve known she’d encourage her to kill herself in the name of so-called glory. When she dies by that white freak’s hand next week it will be because I didn’t do shit to protect her from this!”

It is then that the dam bursts and the victor is brought to his knees by the futility of it all.

Eva holds him, as if they were at home where they could be themselves. He grieves for his niece in her last days while the girl is only partially aware she won’t live long.

“I should have taken her and you and Laurie and run.” He admits between sobs. “We could’ve done it; the kids would be safe, and we could be together like we want.”

Her earrings don’t ping from hidden microphones or cameras. The gym in 2’s floor was blessedly empty of those.

“Where would we go, mi amor?” She is careful not to speak 10’s language here, or anywhere. It was illegal to speak it just like it was to speak anything other than the old tongue of Panem: English.

But they are alone, and knows neither of them will come to harm, especially for what he says next.

“Thirteen, I have been smuggling men and weapons to them with Shelby’s blessing.”

#evacore #they didn't know we were seeds #jack x eva #jack nelson x oc #hunger games au

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