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#i apologize for my obsession with hands. i just have this primal need to add them in everything
potatothots · 2 years
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Porcelain Doll
Genre: Drama: Smut, Fluff, Semi-dark
Rating: Explicit: smut
Pairings: semi!dark!James “Bucky” Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Sex, obsessive!bucky, powered!reader (no explicit description given), choking kink, fear of choking kink. This is NOT a dub/noncon! 
Summary: Bucky learns what it means to have a duel edge kink.
I wrote it quick and tried to beta myself. Potatos aren’t the best at editing their own work.
Note - I'm not your guardian. You read what you want. I can't stop you. If you don't heed the warnings, too bad for you, not me. 
A/N: I’m writing for my WaY series, but this popped into my head. I know choking is a big kink in this fandom (I am one of those kink lovers!), but it can also be scary for some people. I suffered from a fear of it and slowly got over it because I wanted to. I wanted to write a fic that explored that theme. I felt Bucky was a good person to bounce this off of. Like, he’d understand. 
I also like dark!characters in general so… *kicks rock* there’s that, too. 
Bucky looked down at her in awe. Her eyes were half-lidded, a blissed-out haze over her features...
Bucky looked down at her in awe. Her eyes were half-lidded, a blissed-out haze over her features. He shifted, throwing her legs over his shoulders so he could push his cock into her deeper as they fucked. Her body immediately arched towards him. He wondered how he was so lucky to find her. They’d both been through a lot - before they met and even more after. They each had nightmares that kept them up most nights. Both were quiet and reserved, apparently a far cry from who they used to be. 
But whenever he was around her, he felt this primal need to protect her. It was like a beast that clawed away at his sanity. She could protect herself easily. He’d seen her take down people twice her size faster than he could. Yet, she was so tiny compared to him. Pretty, tiny, and seemingly fragile. Like a porcelain doll. At the beginning of the sexual part of their relationship he was afraid to hurt her. Her own powers hurt her. Bucky didn’t want to add to that. He wanted to worship her.
However, the more she chanted “please” and “yes” in his ear, the cloudier his brain became. He could still see her, but his attention was on how she felt. How he felt inside of her. There was no memory he could pull from his scrambled brain to indicate any sex he’d had prior was this amazing. She was clenching around his dick so tightly he thought he was going to suffocate. It would be a blissful way to go. 
It felt good and he wanted her to have the same feeling. 
Bucky wasn’t thinking about her past as he got lost in her present. He hadn’t even paid attention to what he was doing aside from rutting into her like an animal. It wasn’t until he felt her smacking his right arm did he register something was wrong. Her body had gone still. The blissed out look she had earlier was replaced by fear. 
“Oh my god!” Bucky immediately let go of her neck. He pulled away and helped her into a sitting position. “Are you okay? Did I…I’m sorry…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. 
He’d hurt her. One of the few good things he had, he’d hurt. They were both broken and yet, he’d broken his doll more. 
She rubbed her hand across her neck, but shook her head. “No, I could barely feel it. I just, I knew it was there.” 
He waited for her to continue. She let out a small sigh, shrugging. Her fingers tangled together in her lap. With her shoulders shaking slightly he knew she was trying not to cry. Bucky moved to hug her, but stopped at the last moment. What if she didn’t want him touching her anymore? It was her decision right now. She was the one hurt.
“Oh Bucky, don’t cry.” she smiled at him through her own wet tears. 
He let her reach out to him. Immediately, his arms wrapped around her. He kissed the side of her head a few times, silently apologizing for his actions. She smelled like him and the monster inside growled in appreciation. 
Mine, it said. Mine, mine, mine.
He shushed it to listen to her. She was the most important thing right now. 
“It’s okay. It wasn’t you.” Her voice was quiet, muffled from her head’s position at his neck.
He found it ironic that she was comforting him when he was the one to hurt her. 
“I’m scared of that. I’ve been choked enough. I know people say it gives a lot of pleasure in sex, but I’m not ready for it, I don’t think.”
“I’m really sorry, doll. I wasn’t thinking.”
“I understand, Bucky.” His doll smiled at him again. 
He loved to see her smile. He’d do anything to see it, even if it meant killing everyone who’d ever made her afraid of anything. Excluding him. There was only one person in the world who could protect her and also understand her. It was him. Only him. 
“...I’m a bit tired. Can we shower?”
Her voice made him zone back in to listen. At her question, he nodded. Bucky picked her up with ease. She had stopped complaining months ago about him doing that. She stopped complaining about a lot of things he did out of his affection for her. He was grateful - he wasn’t going to stop. He would never stop loving her.
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prrcyjacksons · 2 years
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@fictiondaily mission i: best reads of 2021
“Your differences only make you weak if you let them, Faythe. It’s when you embrace them that you start to live the life you were meant to lead. Not everyone has that strength.”
[A Queen Comes To Power by C.C. Peñaranda]
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xoruffitup · 3 years
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Annette: The AD Devotee Review
So I saw Annette on its premiere night in Cannes and I’m still trying to process and make sense of those 2.5 hours of utter insanity. I have no idea where to begin and this is likely going to become an unholy length by the time I’m finished, so I apologize in advance. But BOY I’ve got a lot to parse through!!
Let’s start here: Adam’s made plenty of weird movies. The Dead Don’t Die? The Man Who Killed Don Quixote? There are definitely Terry Gilliam-esque elements of the unapologetically absurd and fantastical in Annette, but NOTHING comes close to this film. To put it bluntly, nothing I write in this post can prepare you for the eccentric phantasmagoria you’re about to sit through.
While the melodies conveying the story – at times lovely and haunting, at times whimsical, occasionally blunt and simple – add a unique sense of the surreal, the fact that it’s all presented in song somehow supplies the medium for this bizarre concoction of disparate elements and outlandish storytelling to all coalesce into a single genre-defying, disbelief-suspending whole. That’s certainly not to say there weren’t a few times when I quietly chortled to myself and mouthed “what the fuck” from behind my mask when things took an exceeding turn to the outrageous. This movie needs to be permitted a bit of leeway in terms of quality judgments, and traditional indicators certainly won’t apply. I would say part of its appeal (and ultimately its success) stems from its lack of interest in appealing to traditional arbiters of film structure and viewing experience. The movie lingers in studies of discomfiture (I’ll return to this theme); it presents all its absurdities with brazen pride rather than temperance; and its end is abrupt and utterly jarring. Yet somehow, at the end of it, I realized I’d been white-knuckling that rollercoaster ride the whole way through and loved every last twist and turn.
A note on the structure of this post before I dive in: I’ve written out a synopsis of the whole film (for those spoiler-hungry people) and stashed it down at the bottom of this post, so no one trying to avoid spoilers has to scroll through. If you want to read, go ahead and skip down to that before reading the discussion/analysis. If I have to reference a specific plot point, I’ll label it “Spoiler #___” and those who don’t mind being spoiled can check the correlating numbers in my synopsis to see which part I’m referencing. Otherwise, my discussion will be spoiler-free! I do detail certain individual scenes, but hid anything that would give away key developments and/or the ending.
To start, I’ll cut to what I’m sure many of you are here for: THE MUSICAL SEX SCENES. You want detailed descriptions? Well let’s fucking go because these scenes have been living in my head rent-free!!
The first (yes, there are two. Idk whether to thank Mr. Carax or suggest he get his sanity checked??) happens towards the end of “We Love Each Other So Much.” Henry carries Ann to the bed with her feet dangling several inches off the floor while she has her arms wrapped around his shoulders. (I maybe whimpered a tiny bit.) As they continue to sing, you first see Ann spread on her back on the bed, panting a little BUT STILL SINGING while Henry’s head is down between her thighs. The camera angle is from above Ann’s head, so you can clearly see down her body and exactly what’s going on. He lifts his head to croon a line, then puts his mouth right back to work. 
And THEN they fuck – still fucking singing! They’re on their sides with Henry behind her, and yes there is visible thrusting. Yes, the thrusting definitely picks up speed and force as the song reaches its crescendo. Yes, it was indeed EXTREMELY sensual once you got over the initial shock of what you’re watching. Ann kept her breasts covered with her own hands while Henry went down on her, but now his hands are covering them and kneading while they’re fucking and just….. It’s a hard, blazing hot R rating. I also remember his giant hand coming up to turn her head so he can kiss her and ladkjfaskfjlskfj. Bring your smelling salts. I don’t recommend sitting between two older ladies while you’re watching – KINDA RUINED THE BLATANT, SMOKING HOT ADAM PORN FOR ME. Good god, choose your viewing buddy wisely!
The second scene comes sort of out of nowhere – I can’t actually recall which song it was during, but it pops up while Ann is pregnant. Henry is again eating her out and there’s not as much overt singing this time, but he has his giant hands splayed over her pregnant belly while he’s going to town and whew, WHEW TURN ON THE AIR CONDITIONING PLEASE. DID THE THEATER INCREASE IN TEMPERATURE BY 10 DEGREES, YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT IT DID.
Whew. I think you’ll be better primed to ~enjoy~ those scenes when you know they’re coming, otherwise it’s just so shocking that by the time you’ve processed “Look at Adam eating pussy with reckless abandon” it’s halfway over already. God speed, my fellow rats, it’s truly something to witness!!
Okay. Right. Ahem. Moving right on along….
I’ll kick off this discussion with the formal structure of the film. It’s honestly impossible to classify. I have the questionable fortune of having been taken to many a strange avant-garde operas and art exhibitions by my parents when I was younger, and the strongest parallel I found to this movie was melodramatic opera stagings full of flamboyant flourishes, austere set pieces, and prolonged numbers where the characters wallow at length in their respective miseries. This movie has all the elevated drama, spectacle, and self-aggrandizement belonging to any self-professed rock opera. Think psychedelic rock opera films a la The Who’s Tommy, Hair, Phantom of the Paradise, and hell, even Rocky Horror. Yes, this film really is THAT weird.
But Annette is also in large part a vibrant, absurdist performance piece. The film is intriguingly book-ended by two scenes where the lines blur between actor and character; and your own role blurs between passive viewer and interactive audience. The first scene has the cast walking through the streets of LA (I think?), singing “So May We Start?” directly to the camera in a self-aware prologue, smashing the fourth wall from the beginning and setting up the audience to play a direct role in the viewing experience. Though the cast then disburse and take up their respective roles, the sense of being directly performed to is reinforced throughout the film. This continues most concretely through Henry’s multiple stand-up comedy performances.
Though he performs to an audience in the film rather than directly to live viewers, these scenes are so lengthy, vulgar, and excessive that his solo performance act becomes an integral part of defining his character and conveying his arc as the film progresses. These scenes start to make the film itself feel like a one-man show. The whole shtick of Henry McHenry’s “Ape of God” show is its perverse irreverence and swaggering machismo. Over the span of what must be a five minute plus scene, Henry hacks up phlegm, pretends to choke himself with his microphone cord, prances across the stage with his bathrobe flapping about, simulates being shot, sprinkles many a misanthropic, charmless monologues in between, and ends by throwing off his robe and mooning the audience before he leaves the stage. (Yes, you see Adam’s ass within the film’s first twenty minutes, and we’re just warming up from there.) His one-man performances demonstrate his egocentrism, penchant for lowbrow and often offensive humor, and the fact that this character has thus far profited from indulging in and acting out his base vulgarities.
While never demonstrating any abundance of good taste, his shows teeter firmly towards the grotesque and unsanctionable as his marriage and mental health deteriorate. This is what I’m referring to when I described the film as a study in discomfiture. As he deteriorates, the later iterations of his stand-up show become utterly unsettling and at times revolting. The film could show mercy and stop at one to two minutes of his more deranged antics, but instead subjects you to a protracted display of just how insane this man might possibly be. In Adam’s hands, these excessive, indulgent performance scenes take on disturbing but intriguing ambiguity, as you again wonder where the performance ends and the real man begins. When Henry confesses to a crime during his show and launces into an elaborate, passionate reenactment on stage, you shift uncomfortably in your seat wondering how much of it might just be true. Wondering just how much of an animal this man truly is.
Watching this film as an Adam fan, these scenes are unparalleled displays of his range and prowess. He’s in turns amusing and revolting; intolerable and pathetic; but always, always riveting. I couldn’t help thinking to myself that for the casual, non Adam-obsessed viewer, the effect of these scenes might stop at crass and unappealing. But in terms of the sheer range and power of acting on display? These scenes are a damn marvel. Through these scenes alone, his performance largely imbues the film with its wild, primal, and vaguely menacing atmosphere.
His stand-up scenes were, to me, some of the most intense of the film – sometimes downright difficult to endure. But they’re only a microcosm of the R A N G E he exhibits throughout the film’s entirety. Let’s talk about how he’s animalistic, menacing, and genuinely unsettling to watch (Leos Carax described him as “feline” at some point, and I 100% see it); and then with a mere subtle twitch of his expression, sheen of his eyes, or slump of his shoulders, he’s suddenly a lost, broken thing.  
Henry McHenry is truly to be reviled. Twitter might as well spare their breath and announce he’s already cancelled. He towers above the rest of the cast with intimidating, predatory physicality; he is prone to indulgence in his vices; and he constantly seems at risk of releasing some wild, uncontrollable madness lingering just beneath his surface. But as we all well know, Adam has an unerring talent for lending pathos to even the most objectively condemnable characters.
In a repeated refrain during his first comedy show, the audience keeps asking him, “Why did you become a comedian?” He dodges the question or gives sarcastic answers, until finally circling back to the true answer later in the film. It was something to the effect of: “To disarm people. It’s the only way I can tell the truth without it killing me.” Even for all their sick spectacle, there are also moments in his stand-up shows of disarming vulnerability and (seeming) honesty. In a similar moment of personal exposition, he confesses his temptation and “sympathy for the abyss.” (This phrase is hands down my favorite of the film.) He repeatedly refers to his struggle against “the abyss” and, at the same time, his perceived helplessness against it. “There’s so little I can do, there’s so little I can do,” he sings repeatedly throughout the film - usually just after doing something horrific.
Had he been played by anyone else, the first full look of him warming up before his show - hopping in place and punching the air like some wannabe boxer, interspersing puffs of his cigarette with chowing down on a banana – would have been enough for me to swear him off. His archetype is something of a cliché at this point – a brusque, boorish man who can’t stomach or preserve the love of others due to his own self-loathing. There were multiple points when it was only Adam’s face beneath the character that kept my heart cracked open to him. But sure enough, he wedged his fingers into that tiny crack and pried it wide open. The film’s final few scenes show him at his chin-wobbling best as he crumbles apart in small, mournful subtleties.
(General, semi-spoiler ahead as to the tone of the film’s ending – skip this paragraph if you’d rather avoid.) For a film that professes not to take itself very seriously (how else am I supposed to interpret the freaky puppet baby?), it delivers a harsh, unforgiving ending to its main character. And sure enough, despite how much I might have wanted to distance myself and believe it was only what he deserved, I found myself right there with him, sharing his pain. It is solely testament to Adam’s tireless dedication to breathing both gritty realism and stubborn beauty into his characters that Henry sank a hook into some piece of my sympathy.
Not only does Adam have to be the only actor capable of imbuing Henry with humanity despite his manifold wrongs, he also has to be the only actor capable of the wide-ranging transformations demanded of the role. He starts the movie with long hair and his full refrigerator brick house physique. His physicality and size are actively leveraged to engender a sense of disquiet and unpredictability through his presence. He appears in turns tormented and tormentor. There were moments when I found myself thinking of Conan the Barbarian, simply because his physical presence radiates such wild, primal energy (especially next to tiny, dainty Marion and especially with that long hair). Cannot emphasize enough: The raw sex appeal is off the goddamn charts and had me – a veteran fangirl of 3+ years - shook to my damn core.
The film’s progression then ages him – his hair cut shorter and his face and physique gradually becoming more gaunt. By the film’s end, he has facial prosthetics to make him seem even more stark and borderline sickly – a mirror of his growing internal torment. From a muscular, swaggering powerhouse, he pales and shrinks to a shell of a man, unraveling as his face becomes nearly deformed by time and guilt. He is in turns beautiful and grotesque; sensual and repulsive. I know of no other actor whose face (and its accompanying capacity for expressiveness) could lend itself to such stunning versatility.
Quick note here that he was given a reddish-brown birthmark on the right side of his face for this film?? It becomes more prominent once his hair is shorter in the film’s second half. I’m guessing it was Leos’ idea to make his face even more distinctive and riveting? If so, joke’s on you, Mr. Carax, because we’re always riveted. ☺
I mentioned way up at the beginning that the film is bookended by two scenes where the lines blur between actor and character, and between reality and performance. This comes full circle at the film’s end, with Henry’s final spoken words (this doesn’t give any plot away but skip to the next paragraph if you would rather avoid!) being “Stop watching me.” That’s it. The show is over. He has told his last joke, played out his final act, and now he’s done living his life as a source of cheap, unprincipled laughs and thrills for spectators. The curtain closes with a resounding silence.
Now, I definitely won’t have a section where I talk (of course) about the Ben Solo parallels. He’s haunted by an “abyss” aka darkness inside of him? Bad things happened when he finally gave in and stared into that darkness he knew lived within him? As a result of those tragedies, (SPOILER – Skip to next paragraph to avoid) he then finds himself alone and with no one to love or be loved by? NO I’M DEFINITELY NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT IT AT ALL, I’M JUST FINE HERE UNDER MY MOUNTAINS OF TISSUES.
Let’s talk about the music! The film definitely clocks in closer to a rock opera than musical, because almost the entire thing is conveyed through ongoing song, rather than self-contained musical numbers appearing here and there. This actually helps the film’s continuity and pacing, by keeping the characters perpetually in this suspended state of absurdity, always propelled along by some beat or melody. Whenever the film seems on the precipice of tipping all the way into the bleak and dark, the next whimsical tune kicks in to reel us all blessedly back. For example, after (SPOILER #1) happens, there’s a hard cut to the bright police station where several officers gather around Henry, bopping about and chattering on the beat “Questions! We have a few questions!”
Adam integrates his singing into his performance in such a way that it seems organic. I realized after the film that I never consciously considered the quality of his singing along the way. For all that I talked about the film maintaining the atmosphere of a fourth wall-defying performance piece, Adam’s singing is so fully immersed in the embodiment of his character that you almost forget he’s singing. Rather, this is simply how Henry McHenry exists. His stand-up scenes are the only ones in the film that do frequently transition back and forth between speaking and singing, but it’s seamlessly par for the course in Henry’s bizarre, dour show. He breaks into his standard “Now laugh!” number with uninterrupted sarcasm and contempt. There were certainly a few soft, poignant moments when his voice warbled in a tender vibrato you couldn’t help noticing – but otherwise, the singing was simply an extension of that full-body persona he manages to convey with such apparent ease and naturalism.
On the music itself: I’ll admit that the brief clip of “We Love Each Other So Much” we got a few weeks ago made me a tad nervous. It seemed so cheesy and ridiculous? But okay, you really can’t take anything from this movie out of context. Otherwise it is, indeed, utterly ridiculous. Not that none of it is ever ridiculous in context either, but I’m giving you assurances right now that it WORKS. Once you’re in the flow of constant singing and weirdness abound, the songs sweep you right along. Some of the songs lack a distinctive hook or melody and are moreso rhythmic vehicles for storytelling, but it’s now a day later and I still have three of the songs circulating pleasantly in my head. “We Love Each Other So Much” was actually the stand out for me and is now my favorite of the soundtrack. It’s reprised a few times later in the film, growing increasingly melancholy each time it is echoed, and it hits your heart a bit harder each time. The final song sung during (SPOILER #2), though without a distinctive melody to lodge in my head, undoubtedly left me far more moved than a spoken version of this scene would have. Adam’s singing is so painfully desperate and earnest here, and he takes the medium fully under his command.
Finally, it does have to be said that parts of this film veer fully towards the ridiculous and laughable. The initial baby version of the Annette puppet-doll was nothing short of horrifying to me. Annette gets more center-stage screen time in the film’s second half, which gives itself over to a few special effects sequences which look to be flying out at you straight from 2000 Windows Movie Maker. The scariest part is that it all seems intentional. The quality special effects appear when necessary (along with some unusual and captivating time lapse shots), which means the film’s most outrageous moments are fully in line with its guiding spirit. Its extravagant self-indulgence nearly borders on camp.
...And with that, I’ve covered the majority of the frantic notes I took for further reflection immediately after viewing. It’s now been a few days, and I’m looking forward to rewatching this movie when I can hopefully take it in a bit more fully. This time, I won’t just be struggling to keep up with the madness on screen. My concluding thoughts at this point: Is it my favorite Adam movie? Certainly not. Is it the most unforgettable? Aside from my holy text, The Last Jedi, likely yes. It really is the sort of thing you have to see twice to even believe it. And all in all, I say again that Adam truly carried this movie, and he fully inhabits even its highest, most ludicrous aspirations. He’s downright abhorrent in this film, and that’s exactly what makes him such a fucking legend.
I plan to make a separate post in the coming days about my experience at Cannes and the Annette red carpet, since a few people have asked! I can’t even express how damn good it feels to be globetrotting for Adam-related experiences again. <3
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Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to ask me any further questions at all here or on Twitter! :)
*SYNOPSIS INCLUDED BELOW. DO NOT READ FURTHER IF AVOIDING SPOILERS!*
Synopsis: Comedian Henry McHenry and opera singer Ann Defrasnoux are both at the pinnacle of their respective success when they fall in love and marry. The marriage is happy and passionate for a time, leading to the birth of their (puppet) daughter, Annette. But tabloids and much of the world believe the crude, brutish Henry is a poor match for refined, idolized Ann. Ann and Henry themselves both begin to feel that something is amiss – Henry gradually losing his touch for his comedy craft, claiming that being in love is making him ill. He repeatedly and sardonically references how Ann’s opera career involves her “singing and dying” every night, to the point that he sees visions of her “dead” body on the stage. Meanwhile, Ann has a nightmare of multiple women accusing Henry of abusive and violent behavior towards them, and she begins growing wary in his presence. (He never acts abusively towards her, unless you count that scene when he tickles her feet and licks her toes while she’s telling him to stop??? Yeah I know, WILD.)
The growing sense of unease, that they’re both teetering on the brink of disaster, culminates in the most deranged of Henry’s stand-up comedy performances, when he gives a vivid reenactment of killing his wife by “tickling her to death.” The performance is so maudlin and unsettling that you wonder whether he’s not making it up at all, and the audience strongly rebukes him. (This is the “What is your problem?!” scene with tiddies out. The full version includes Adam storming across the stage, furiously singing/yelling, “What the FUCK is your problem?!”) But when Henry arrives home that night, drunk and raucous, Ann and Annette are both unharmed.
The couple take a trip on their boat, bringing Annette with them. The boat gets caught in a storm, and Henry drunkenly insists that he and Ann waltz in the storm. She protests that it’s too dangerous and begs him to see sense. (SPOILER #1) The boat lurches when Henry spins her, and Ann falls overboard to her death. Henry rescues Annette from the sinking boat and rows them both to shore. He promptly falls unconscious, and a ghost of Ann appears, proclaiming her intention to haunt Henry through Annette. Annette (still a toddler at this point and yes, still a wooden puppet) then develops a miraculous gift for singing, and Henry decides to take her on tour with performances around the world. He enlists the help of his “conductor friend,” who had been Ann’s accompanist and secretly had an affair with her before she met Henry.
Henry slides further into drunken debauchery as the tour progresses, while the Conductor looks after Annette and the two grow close. Once the tour concludes, the Conductor suggests to Henry that Annette might be his own daughter – revealing his prior affair with Ann. Terrified by the idea of anyone finding out and the possibility of losing his daughter, Henry drowns the Conductor in the pool behind his and Ann’s house. Annette sees the whole thing happen from her bedroom window.
Henry plans one last show for Annette, to be held in a massive stadium at the equivalent of the Super Bowl. But when Annette takes the stage, she refuses to sing. Instead, she speaks and accuses Henry of murder. (“Daddy kills people,” are the actual words – not that that was creepy to hear as this puppet’s first spoken words or anything.)
Henry stands trial, during which he sees an apparition of Ann from when they first met. They sing their regret that they can’t return to the happiness they once shared, until the apparition is replaced by Ann’s vengeful spirit, who promises to haunt Henry in prison. After his sentencing (it’s not clear what the sentence was, but Henry definitely isn’t going free), Annette is brought to see him once in prison. Speaking fully for the first time, she declares she can’t forgive her parents for using her: Henry for exploiting her voice for profit and Ann for presumably using her to take vengeance on Henry. (Yes, this is why she was an inanimate doll moving on strings up to this point – there was some meaning in that strange, strange artistic choice. She was the puppet of her parents’ respective egotisms.) The puppet of Annette is abruptly replaced by a real girl in this scene, finally enabling two-sided interaction and a long-missed genuine connection between her and Henry, which made this quite the emotional catharsis. (SPOILER #2) It concludes with Annette still unwilling to forgive or forget what her parents have done, and swearing never to sing again. She says Henry now has “no one to love.” He appeals, “Can’t I love you, Annette?” She replies, “No, not really.” Henry embraces her one last time before a guard takes her away and Henry is left alone.
…..Yes, that is the end. It left me with major emotional whiplash, after the whole film up to this point kept pulling itself back from the total bleak and dark by starting up a new toe-tapping, mildly silly tune every few minutes. But this last scene instead ends on a brutal note of harsh, unforgiving silence.
BUT! Make sure you stick around through the credits, when you see the cast walking through a forest together. (This is counterpart to the film’s opening, when you see the cast walking through LA singing “So May We Start?” directly to the audience) Definitely pay attention to catch Adam chasing/playing with the little girl actress who plays Annette! That imparts a much nicer feeling to leave the theater with. :’)
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jenovahh · 5 years
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KYKM - 7 Months, 17 Days
Your hand is clutched tightly in his as the two of you dash through the rain, holding on to one another so neither of you fall off the edge of the cliff. Warped crystal is slippery as you found out when you had nearly slid off the edge, Zenos’ preternatural reflexes pulling you back to his side in an instant.
“Have you angered any primals recently Warrior? Or perhaps this is their vengeance; seeing as you always have us caught in some form of inclement weather?” he growls over a crash of thunder, slashing at a mirrorknight with his sword arm.
“How was I to know I would pick the one day it rains in the desert?! Ramuh doesn’t even rule over this domain!” you snap back, pulling him toward a tunnel just ahead of you. “And I don’t think he’s mad at me...” you add as an afterthought, voice sounding terribly unsure.
It matters little as you both skid to a halt in one of the tunnels in the Burning Wall, the glow of the many crystals providing more than enough light. You’re both only lightly soaked, but there is thankfully a torch burning brightly nearby, the two of you crowding near it immediately. The rain shows no sign of letting up, and if anything only seems to come down harder as you stare at the entrances of the tunnel. “It seems we’ll be here awhile yet.” you muse softly, shedding your outer most coat.
Zenos follows suit, placing his on a nearby rock as he watches you fumble around in your pack. “Next time we will not ignore my advice to check the upcoming weather before a hunt.” he admonishes, not at all fazed by your innocent smile.
“We killed it didn’t we? And much faster too, with your help. You have a real talent for hunting.” Your compliment does make him preen a little, though he’s not sidetracked as you intended.
“And we would also be home much faster, had you not declined my advice,”
“To go check the weather, yes, I know.” you pout, folding your arms like a petulant child. “How did you become such a great hunter anyway? If you can find Lampalagua that fast, you could find any S rank quickly I bet. What’s your secret?”
After your struggle to find Safat, the Warrior let Zenos take over as the leader o the hunt. With the right information, luring the beast out was mere child’s play to him, but fascinating to you. Your question seems harmless enough on the surface, making him reach into his memories of when he was young. The memories of his ruthless tutor, of spending the majority of his time locked away in the royal family’s library, with only books and tomes for his companions.
“Soryu?”
Your face is muddled with concern and worry, a gentle hand on his arm, making him wonder how long he had been caught in his memories. “Forgive me, Warrior. I was merely...thinking on how to answer your question.” he hums, staring out into the raging storm. 
“I did not think it so personal a question. I apologize.” You whisper, gripping his sleeve a little tighter. Looking at you, he feels a part of himself he thought long buried bumble forth, wary and unsure. It wants to share with you. It wants to open itself to you, just as you had with him. No one had ever asked him much about himself, without some ulterior motive. But you, you wanted to know for the sake of knowing. To know more about him, the monster that he knew he was.
“Come, Warrior.” He moves to sit next to a wall, looking up at you expectantly. “Let us talk, to pass the time.”
You remain frozen there for a few seconds, but eventually move to sit next to him, closer than any normal (some would even say sane) person would dare sit, but still a respectable distance from his side. Resting an arm on one knee, he stares out at the storm again, collecting his thoughts.
“As you might have gathered, I came from a...privileged family. As a child, I could possibly want for nothing. Anything I desired was handed to me on a silver platter. T’was a life that I’m sure many a man would wish for.
I was the oldest child and thus, the one expected and trained to inherit all of the wealth. I had the best teachers, the best instructor for swordsmanship, cruel as he was. My honored father was busy with maintaining his wealth.”
He could feel his fist clench and relax, the memories swirling through his mind with startling force. “I hardly interacted with my siblings, due to my being primed to take over as head of the family one day. My main companions were books, spending hours upon hours locked within our personal library. Studying until I had read every word, memorized every tome. For the times I was not reading, I was trained in the art of combat, primarily swordsmanship due to my inability to use magic.”
He stares at his right hand, a wry smile as he does so. “I studied long into the late hours, trying to find anything to overcome this detriment. I had tried everything, even as far as self experimentation. The memory eludes me, of when I became so obsessed with the notion of gaining power, growing stronger, hunting opponents to see how swiftly I could defeat them. The people around me had ceased to be mortal, but merely machina on rails. Machines moving through the world without independent thought, until they became...” Until they became beasts in the hunt. 
“Were you lonely?” Your voice is small and careful, your crystal depths full of understanding and concern. They are not filled with pity, but a genuine care for his well being. “I don’t mean to assume. But growing up without your father being around, or your mother, it must have been very lonely.” How perceptive you were. He had not even mentioned his mother’s untimely death, though he could hardly remember it himself. He could not remember mourning her, or if he had even got the chance.
And was he lonely? With no one but himself to depend on? Never knowing what it was to care or be cared for? Being taught that things such as affection were not needed for the prince of Garlemald?
Maybe he was.
“Perhaps.” he admits, the confession strange to his own ears. “It is but part of the past now. Nothing can change that. Nothing could change what I had become.” he finishes, looking out at the storm once more.
Suddenly there is a weight on his shoulders, the feeling of arms encircling one of his. “It might be the past. But that doesn’t mean that the past doesn’t hurt.” your voice is still quiet, full of a sureness he wasn’t sure he’d heard before. “Our past shapes us into who we are. Our past can hold us back. But it can also help us understand ourselves,” you pause with a warm smile, “and it can help others understand us too.”
You lean your head on his shoulder, fingers snaking down to touch his own. “Have I ever told you that I trust you? More than I have ever trusted anyone before?” you ask, idly drawing patterns on his skin.
He stares at your fingers moving across his own, enchanted by the motion. “No.” he lies, wanting to hear you say it again.
“Well, I do. I trust you more than anyone. And...you’re a really dear friend to me.” your voice trembles, a note of anxiety slipping through. Hearing your confession again fills him with a sense of pride, a recurring sense of peace that only you have ever brought out.
There’s a warmth swimming inside him that he can’t yet describe, but it threatens to take him over. He feels if he does not hold it back, it will fly loose beyond his control. But it must find it’s release some how, the feeling suffocating, as if he is drowning.
Unbidden, his hand slowly moves to intertwine with your own, warmer than he’s ever felt it. You do not reject the action, instead tightening your grip as you stare into his sky blue eyes. “You would be my first friend.” he admits, watching a shadow of sorrow flashing through your eyes before it’s gone, replaced by happiness.
“We can while away the quiet hours, as friend and confidant...” he hears you murmur to yourself, his own words striking a chord within him. Your hands fit perfectly together and not, a wrongness of it settling in, in this body that is not his own. It’s a new feeling, being this close to someone outside of combat, outside of seeking pleasure. Your thumb draws random patterns on his skin as you two wait out the storm in companionable silence, clutching your hand tighter in his.
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anyomousfanfic · 5 years
Text
Disturbed: Chapter 2: When it all comes to an end.
Word count: 5,193 
Pairings: Damon salvatore x reader, McCall Pack! Eventual, Winchester brothers! x reader Eventual.
warnings: death, blood, violence.
oh my god, I finally posted the next chapter! Sorry to have stretched it out for so long! I worked really hard on this and made it a lot longer than previous chapters. So please give me your feedback, I love hearing it!  And apologies if there are any errors! 
The next chapter has big things coming, we will start to see the introduction of other characters for this cross over fic so stayed turned and happy reading!
If you would like to be notified of when i post another chapter message or comment and i will add you to my tag list so you will be the first to know when another chapter is posted on here. :)
Loathing:
A feeling of itense dislike or distrust; hatred: the thought filled her with intense loathing. Old English,of Germanic origin.
Why do people say that when you die its peaceful? Why is it such a misconstrued topic? Who in their right mind would make this idea such a normal view, and why in the hell did people leave it to be true?
 Nothing about death was peaceful. It was lonely and filled with pain. A pain so intense it could burn the earth whole, turning into minuscule specks of dust. The truth was, my death was so intense, I felt like I was being burned from the inside out almost as if the sun had been planted into every fibre of my body. It’s heat etching its way into every nerve ending, millions and millions of nerve simultaneously combusting, burning up every bit of me till there was nothing left. The worst part was, I was scared beyond belief. I expected there to be the famous ‘white light’ at the end of the tunnel, peace and love; maybe even acceptance of my death fast approaching. But it never came to my dismay.
 He had left me there in the woods, my blood draining from my wounds, seeping into the dirt, becoming one with the earth. As my eye sight became more strained, a sick thought crossed my mind. How many other people, years in the past had died in this very spot? Were they all cackling at my predicament, or did they pity me that my life was taken so short? Who knew. I never really did get to find out either..
 It felt like an eternity before the burning in my body stopped. It slowly faded away, almost resembling the pace of a snail. The only place left on my body that had an intense burning was my throat. I expected everything to be over when the pain started to fade, that was what was supposed to happen when you’re dying? Eventually the pain dissipates, but it never did. And to my surprise I was gaining consciousness. It wasn’t as hard as I thought to open my eyes, jumping up quickly and gaining a large intake of breath.
 I quickly scanned my surroundings, noticing that I was still in the woods. In the exact same place as before. I knew it was dark because the sun light was not filtering through the leaves of the tree’s looming above me, but my eye sight had doubled in vision for some strange reason. Everything was so clear to me, from every grain of dirk beneath my body, to the small particles of pollen and dust that filled the air. I could see even the smallest of ants, feet away from me climbing up the rough bark of tree’s. I wasn’t even one hundred percent sure if I was even alive at this point. This whole thing seemed to surreal to be true.
 I sat still and listened, my sense’s in over drive as I heard multiple footsteps from what sounded like a heavy four footed animals. Every movement, every swish of its tail, every bite and chew of the lush green grass I could hear. It perplexed me on how I could even hear such things. Perhaps I was imagining this, maybe my mind had shut down and started to construct a false reality for my body to cope with the trauma that it faced, but it felt way too real. Everything was too loud, my brain was beginning to hurt at the influx of the noises that occupied the space that I was in.
 I shuffled my body to stand, I needed to get away from here, but I didn’t know where I was going. I barely even remembered how I got here in the first place. As I tried to go over last night’s events, Damon’s face flashed before my eyes and everything suddenly came rushing back to me. Every single detail from when he met me at the bar and the exact way I had come here. It had seemed that whatever spell he had casted on me had no hold over me anymore. I bit down on my lip and retraced my steps, the sound of the dirt, dried leaves and grass crunching beneath my feet was like surround sound causing me to scrunch my nose in pain. This was too much for me to handle, and I had no idea how to make it stop. To turn it off or even turn it down.
 It didn’t take me as long as I expected to find a small road leading back into the city, everyone was still asleep I assumed as there was hardly a sound to be heard, except a car here and there in the distance. I continued walking, taking in every sense I could. Every smell. Until it hit me. A sweet luscious smell that made my mouth water and my throat become dry and hot with hunger. If it were even possible, my senses became more attuned, my eye sight even more focused and my hearing more alert. I could hear a heartbeat. It was calm and steady just like their footsteps as they rounded the corner to where I was standing. My fists clenched by my side as I forced myself to control whatever had overcome me. The scent was driving me crazy, and the sound of the blood rushing through their veins made me hungry beyond belief.
I held in my breath, I didn’t know what was happening to me but I didn’t want to do anything to hurt someone. That wasn’t me. I could control whatever this was. As I was fighting my internal battle a women came into view. I could hear her heart beat raise at the sight of me, clearly I looked deranged. Covered in blood and dirt, standing in the middle of a quiet street with only the light of the street light to illuminate my figure. I could feel my canines pushing the inside of my lips, somehow becoming longer and more pointed.
 “Hey. Are you okay do you need any help?” The woman questioned me cautiously. Carefully taking a step towards me, trying not to intimidate or scare me.
 I took a tentative step back, careful to keep my distance.
 “Please don’t come near me. I don’t want to hurt you.” I replied, straining myself not to take in a breath.
 “You look like you’ve been through hell. Is there someone I can call?” She continued to advance to me slowly, lifting her hands in the air to show me that she wasn’t a threat. But her heart beat was still racing, I could hear it loud and clear.
 I simply shook my head. Biting down on my lip further. She was so close to me now, I could feel the heat of her skin on my own as she reached out her hand towards me. I thought that I could control myself around her, so I took in a deep breath just as the wind blew. Her scent travelled to me with such a force that my mouth was salivating instantly. Without even thinking, or even telling myself to. I lunged at the poor girl with so much speed that she didn’t even seem to know that I had moved an inch. By the time she realised that I was not in the same spot, my teeth had found her jugular, piercing her throat. The moment her blood had touched my tastebuds I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop. The taste of it was so sweet, so succulent that I wouldn’t even be able to describe. It was nothing like I tasted before in my whole life. It didn’t have that metallic taste like I was used to, it had something completely different.
 She had screamed then. In pain or shock I didn’t know. I simply snapped her neck to the side to keep her from drawing attention to us. I was all too consumed in feeding off her blood to care that I had taken an innocent life. I could feel her body go limp instantly, and her heart pumping once or twice more before it stopped completely. I just continued to drink, my body feeling even more strong and warm with every mouthful.
 Pretty soon no more blood was being produced. I simply growled and dropped the body of the girl onto the floor. I could feel her blood dripping down my mouth. I slowly stuck out my tongue, swiping up the blood slowly. Savouring the taste of it with a sadistic smile. I looked down at the poor creature, her throat ripped open and her body pale. I felt no remorse for what I had done. I only wanted more blood.
 I had killed multiple innocent people that night. My blood lust driving me to do the unthinkable. I had become the monster of people’s nightmares, their worst fears brought to life. Everything to me has now been consumed by my blood lust. This unbelievable desire to kill had driven me to a point of obsessive insanity. I was alone, but I had never felt more powerful and in control of my own body and mind. With every drop of blood, my addiction grew. I knew it was unwise to leave so much evidence, but I had convinced myself that I am now indestructible. That is until the sun had started to rise.
 Blisters had begun to form on every exposed piece of skin as the sun rose, but the higher it got, the more intense the pain became. I wasn’t too far from my apartment, so I ran, driven by primal fear. I had made it there in mere seconds.
 My tiny apartment was left in the exact way I remember it. A small blanket draped over my second hand lounge that occupied most of the space of my small lounge room. A small plasma TV still hung up on the wall, slightly off centre. I could see every speck of dust that was built up on the TV screen. I bit my lip, suddenly disgusted that I had let my home become so dirty. With a small sigh, I let myself relax on the lounge, grabbing the remote to the TV and turning it on. The local news instantly filled the screen, the voice of the anchor man filling the space. Politics. I rolled my eyes, none of that seemed to matter to me at this point in time. My next meal did. Thoughts of the luscious taste of blood encompassed my thoughts, leaving no room for any other concerns or thoughts.
Days had passed where I was free to do whatever I pleased. I was unchecked, no one was around to stop me or to tell me that what I was doing was wrong. I knew somewhere deep down that everything in my life was a mess, what I had become was not natural but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Damon had ruined my life, stripped me of my humanity, destroyed my future and took away my most prized possession of all. He had taken my free will. I had no say in what had happened to me and I felt enraged every time I thought of Damon. He was a demon that plagued my mind.
 I had found myself watching the multiple news reports that were circulating the media at the present. Bodies strewn all over the city, the count was 20 so far and it had only been just under a week since I have turned. The theories that were being discussed on the news made me smirk. They were speculating between an animal attack or a homicidal murderer. They weren’t too far from the truth I suppose and I found myself smirking. The sound of light and quick footsteps filled my ears, but before I could react I was yanked up by my shirt and thrown into the wall.
 He was here, he was in front of me. Damon, the man that had ruined my life. He was beautiful, even more so with my new heightened sight. His skin was flawless, not a single blemish or wrinkle tainted his skin. His hair was still long messy and raven black and his eyes were an even more brilliant blue. He came here to warn me that I was being watched by some hunters and the McCall pack. I didn’t take it seriously, my guess is that he is just threatened by someone who was not afraid to take risks. I decided that I would ruin his life the way he ruined mine.
 “So, how is it that you’re here in the middle of the day?” I questioned, cocking my head to the side studying the monster before me.
 “I can’t tell you all my secrets. Besides, why would I give you more of a reason to go out and draw attention to us. If you could go out in the day, you will just be signing your own death sentence.” Damon said simply, pacing slowly throughout the small living room.
 “Why can’t I have the freedom that you do? I mean you practically forced this life style on me? I had no one to teach me anything, I’m basically fending for myself here. How am I supposed to live if I don’t know the right way to?”
 Damon simply stared at me with a blank face, he clearly didn’t sympathise with me, he had no care in the world for anyone other than himself. He only wanted me to stop so he could keep himself safe. So that his lifestyle wasn’t affected and he wasn’t outed for the asshole he really is. Slowly though his face betrayed him, his resolve was faltering. What I said was true and he knew it. He left me alone figuring I was as good as dead, a rookie mistake on his part. He knew he was the one that fucked up and that every bad thing that I have done since that night had been on him.
 “Fine. You’re right. I’ll come by tonight and we can talk this through. But I mean it, this has to stop you’re putting us in danger and if it comes down to it I will kill you if it means that me and my family are safe.” He was fierce when he spoke, his eyes shining with a fire so bright that I didn’t doubt him for a second. He would kill me if he thought it was the right thing to do.
 But little did he know, I had plans for him. Plans that would turn his whole life upside down in the blink of an eye. I was going to get close to him, his friends and his family. I would make them trust me, love me as one of their own. Accept me, and then I would turn on them all. Destroying everything they’ve ever held dear to their hearts. If Damon could so easily strip away everything in my life, then I was going to make him pay for all eternity for what he has done to me.
 “Okay Damon. I promise I will wait here for you. But please, I need your help. I don’t want to be a monster.” I made my voice sound small and helpless, my face mimicking my voice. Damon simply left without another word. Leaving me to think about the plan that was already starting to go into motion.
 Six hours was a long time to wait around for somebody. I forced myself to sleep for what seemed like the longest time. Despite being a supernatural being of the night, damned to live all of eternity the same age, watching every single person I once knew grow older, have a family and eventually die, you would think that it was impossible to be exhausted. But I was, I was exhausted. My body was running on fumes, it had been almost a full day of not feeding, a schedule that I wasn’t used to. My throat was burning with the thought of blood trickling down it, satisfying the never ending thirst that plagued me every single second of the day.  I forced my body to relax, letting my body to relax and soon enough I had managed to fall asleep.
 Despite being one of the most dangerous predators on the planet, I had experienced my first nightmare as a supernatural being; something which I oddly thought would exempt me from such mundane things. Evidently, it didn’t matter that I was an undead creature of the night. My worst fears had come out to play as soon as my body went into a deep sleep.
 The cold night air trickled over my skin, a shiver running down my spine. My anxiety was high and my heart beat was fast and loud within my ears. My vision was blurred with tears, I felt like I was being followed; hunted even. I had no recollection of where I was, all that I knew was that I was in a forest that looked exactly like the one Damon had lead me to when he used some sort of magic on me to make me follow him there blindly.
 There were no sounds of animals nearby which made me even more anxious. Shouldn’t there be at least an owl hooting somewhere off in the distance? I took a tentative step forward, trying to get my bearings of where I was and how I was going to find my way home. But I couldn’t move. That’s when two figures emerged in the small opening at least 10 metres in front of me. Somehow not even noticing my presence. I heard a low feminine giggle. I Scrunched my eye brows together trying to focus my eyesight on who the hell was even out here in the first place. No such luck, apparently I was back in my human body with limited sight.
 “What are we doing all the way out here?” I heard the same voice again. I couldn’t quiet put my finger on how I knew the voice, I just knew that it was one that I had heard many times before. A voice that had calmed me, had consoled me and had given me hours of advice.
 “Well, I can’t exactly kill you in front of everyone now can I?” Without even having to see, I knew that was my voice. Except it was devoid of emotion, no feelings, no sympathy just plain bloodlust filled my tone.
 The other girl giggled, thinking that what other me said had been a joke. But I knew that it wasn’t, I could feel it In my bones. I was certain that other me an brought this girl out here to her death. This would be the final place she will see before she leaves this world for good. I felt a sinking feeling in my chest. I had to do something, I needed to distract other me and get her to chase me instead, but your dreams and your reality are two different things entirely. As much as I wanted to change the course of events, there was no way that I could, my subconscious had made it impossible for me to even get near the situation that was unfolding.
 “Still a joker as always Isabella. But seriously, what are we doing here, it’s late and I have to get up early to set up the restaurant tomorrow.”
 Oh no. It was Anne. Someone who I considered for all intents and purposes one of my closest friends. No, other me wouldn’t kill her. She couldn’t kill her! Surely she knows how much Anne meant to her in her human life, she couldn’t just rip apart Anne like she meant nothing. She meant everything! She had helped me so much over the past few years, our relationship blossoming from a waitress and customer to really great friends. The reason I went to that place was just to talk to her because I had enjoyed her company and humorous personality so much!
 “Always so trusting Anne.” I could see other me cock her head to the side, looking at Anne in a calculative manner. It was going to happen soon, I would be witnessing the end of Anne’s life.
 “You’re kind of scaring me now Isabella. Not gonna lie.” She backed away from other me slightly, trying not to make it noticeable that she was trying to find a way to escape. She knew that something was off with me, but despite every instinct telling her to run, her heart was telling her that other me wouldn’t hurt her.
 “Well you taste better when you’re scared.”
 Anne’s body was suddenly thrown right in front of my feet. A blood curdling scream escaped my lungs as I tried to step back but nothing was happening. It was like my feet had been cemented into the ground. Blood was trickling down Anne’s forehead. She had landed on a decent sized stone.
 I was panting now, staring down at my friend. Wishing and praying that there was something that I could do for her. Every move I tried to get my body to do simply didn’t work. I could only watch in utter horror as other me stepped into the clearing. Teeth bared in a sadistic smile. The scariest part was the moving black veins under my all black eyes.
 Anne looked up at other me approaching her. She was crying and whimpering in pain. Trying to shuffle her body away as quickly as possible. She succeeded in gaining a few small metres but other me quickly sped over in a matter of a second. Before either Anne or even I could process, other me and had up in front of her by her throat, cutting of her air supply.
It broke my heart into pieces watching Anne struggled to breathe, her normally tanned and rosy cheeked complexion was turning a pale blue. She was gagging to get even a miniscule amount of air into her screaming lungs. I knew how much panic and fear she was feeling, flash backs of what Damon had done to me flashed through my mind. I knew she was trying to come up with a way to escape, but deep down she must have known that the only escape was death.
I heard a few cracking noises then. My focus on Anne’s face, she wanted to scream in agony as other me slowly applied pressure to her throat, fracturing her neck in more then one place.
“Please….” Anne managed to croak through the pain and lack of oxygen.
“That’s not going to work on my darling. I have no humanity left.” Other me whispered in her ear, dragging her teeth down the exposed part of her neck. Letting her sharp canine fangs slowly open up a line strip of skin. Other me watch with intrigue as Anne’s scarlet blood trickled down her fingers, she was smiling watching her life line flow down until droplets hit the ground, becoming one with the earth. 
“Normally I would make it quick, but I meant what I said. You do really taste better when you’re scared out of your mind.” She had leaned over now, letting her tongue run down the cut she had made. Moaning lowly in the back of her throat at the taste of blood.
 “Just a little bit more, and you’ll be even more irresistible ” Other me mused. Her grip relaxing slightly.
 “We’re gonna play a game of hide and seek. Well it’s not really a game because you will lose. But it’s always fun to give it a good old try don’t you think?”
Anne simply stared in horror, realisation that she could possibly outsmart other me had lifted her spirits slightly.
 “I’m going to give you a hmm.. a ten minute heard start. Only because I am feeling rather generous and well the odds are definitely in my favour. I mean with the heightened senses and all. I’m pretty sure that there isn’t a place you could run where I wouldn’t be able to find you. But then again, I said I would give you a chance and a promise is a promise.”
 Other me and let Anne go now. The only thing stopping Anne from running was other me keeping her hand gently wrapped around her throat. She was still rambling, madness and bloodlust taking up most of her thoughts at this point. Eventually other me had let her had slide down Anne’s chest, topping just above her racing heart.  Before she suddenly lashed out and kicked Anne’s leg. A sickening snap filled the wide open space of the woods, and Anne’s scream follow seconds after.
“ I didn’t say it would be a fair head start.”
Anne’s body crumpled to the floor as she held her right leg, tears of pain, disbelief and horror running down her cheeks. She was a mess. Dirty with blood, sweat and dirt. But despite her pain there was a fire burning In side of her, a defiance that even I noticed. She wasn’t going to die without a fight.
She had forced her small body to stand, letting majority of her weight fall to her left leg. She still held tightly onto her broken one, but she looked at other me. All traces of fear left her then.
“I’m not as weak as you think I am.” She seethed through clenched teeth. Despite knowing full well the outcome of this, I felt proud of her. She wasn’t going to sit there and take this, she would and she could fight till the end. She was going to make a good death, a death on her own terms.
 “Off you go little one. I’ll be hunting you soon.”
Anne didn’t need a written invitation. She had limped off as fast as her body would allow in a seemingly random direction. Shortly she was out of my sight. My attention had turned to other me now.
 I still looked the same as I did when I was human, but there was an air of insanity surrounding me. I could just tell by the way she carried herself and the way she spoke; the rambling was almost belligerent. Her hair was sort of looked like a bird’s nest, like she hadn’t even bothered to wash it for a week or two. Upon further inspection I realised it looked the way it did because it had been matted with blood, sticks and leaves and dirt.
Other me was letting her tongue swipe against her lips in anticipation as she paced back and forth. Muttering to herself in the process. I could only make out a fraction of what she had said.
‘She is going to taste so good. Mmm. I just can’t wait.’
 I stared at other me in utter disgust. I couldn’t believe the thought process of her. Couldn’t even begin to fathom the amount of effort and care was taken in undertaking such a vile plan. My stomach churned with the thought that my dear friend’s heart would stop beating in mere moments. I prayed and hoped that I could distract other me long enough to give Anne even a smaller chance at surviving.
 “Why her?”
 The look I received was comical, as if the answer to the question I had posed was the most obvious one in the world. One that no matter how hard I tried to think of didn’t make sense to my one tracked mind.
 “Because she is the only thing holding me to my human life and well I want to, and why shouldn’t I be able to do what I want?”
“But, she’s innocent. She has done so much for us. I mean you.”
 Other mere shook her shoulders nonchalantly. Picking at her fingers nails bored.
“Like I said. Why can’t I do what I want? I mean are you going to stop me?”
My heart stopped then. Could I? I mean theoretically this was only a dream right. A figure of my subconscious, I should be able to do the impossible but from my previous efforts I would say that is a far-fetched hope.
 “Hmm that’s what I thought. Well my dinner is calling.”
 “Wait!” I screamed desperately, a few stray birds taking flight at the echo of my voice throughout the night air.
Other me turned to look at me impatiently. I figured this was a small lived victory. Another second that Anne would miraculously find civilisation and get help.
“Why am I even here?”
 Other me titled her head to the side, calculating her next response. A few mere seconds passed in silence. I was sure she could hear my erratic heartbeat.  Only she never replied to me. She only turned and vanished right before my eyes.
 I bit on my lip harshly, the taste of blood filling my senses. I still couldn’t move and my mind did not give me a release from this hell. I had never wished for a time where I wasn’t so hopeless.
A piercing scream filled the night air, cut short a second later and a chill ran down my spine. I felt like I had jumped into a frozen creek, suddenly submerged in an icy chasm that I couldn’t get out of. Anne was dead, and I couldn’t do anything to save her or change her fate. Tears were streaming down my face, a stark temperature difference to how my cold my body felt.
Her hand was on me before I could even comprehend that she was even there. Tightly bound around my throat, my air ways blocked. I had begun chocking, fighting to get valuable oxygen into my blood stream. If I could move any part of my body, I was sure I would of used my nails to scrap away at her skin, to make her feel even the smallest amount of pain that I had felt.
She was before me suddenly, drenched in blood. Some still dripped from her full bottom lip to her chin and then onto the floor at our feet.
“You’re not going to hold me back anymore. I am the most powerful and deadly predator on the planet. I am not going to let you control me.” She screamed, her fangs protruding menacingly. Her voice was no longer calm and collected but filled with insanity and utter hate for me existence.
She snapped my neck then. Just like that.  The human part of me was dead and gone. Never to be seen again.
I awoke with a strange triumphant feeling within my chest shortly after my dream ended, however strange it was. But it was symbolic. The old me, the weak, human me was dead. Forever buried in the forest in which Damon had turned me. Never to return. The new powerful me, dangerous predator was left to rule this body, now and forever more.
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steve0discusses · 5 years
Text
Yugioh S3 Ep4: Pharaoh Kitsch
Ah, I just found out what happens when you put a quesadilla in an air fryer (it was still delicious but looked a lot like modern art) So now that nothing else can possibly surprise me today lets go over to Yugioh. Bear in mind, I am still sick as a dog and my brain only recently came out of a pretty intense fog so I think this recap makes sense but it might not. Which is on brand for this show so wtv.
Tea went to hell recently. She’s still kicking. But, unfortunately in hell.
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Yugi’s still getting harassed by a swamp person who can’t stop talking about how good he is at Business.
I’ll be honest I’ve been on dates with guys professing to be Business experts (they’re not) where I basically wanted to lie on the ground exactly like this mid conversation in the middle of the damn restaurant.
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So anyways, it’s this episode where Pharaoh decides to try something new. Mostly it’s because he had only a limited number of cards to choose from but also because it’s everyone’s favorite kitschy thing that I guess is back in fashion again that’s right it’s a rainbow.
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This sounded like a joke on the show but I was just me talking to myself in this last blurb. *long, exasperated sigh*
(read more under the cut)
Anyways I just deleted about 4 or 5 different art rants (I’m pretty sure it was like 11 rants actually, I get pissssssed when I’m on Dayquil) where I pretty much snapped about trends, and it went way off topic. Apparently Dayquil me is just like up in arms about the neon 80′s pink rainbow unicorn trend that was super fun for a little while, but it’s been like 6 years and it’s *still here* and it’s like guys, while I was super down 6 years ago, now I am 30. Do any marketers out there even know how old millennials are supposed to be?
Anyway, before obsessive bad marketing happened and rainbows became a meme to comfort us in these hard times, rainbows used to be out of fashion when this episode aired in 2001. Just bear that in mind if you are a baby in the room and you think unicorn stuff everywhere is normal, it didn’t used to be. It used to be wearing multiple belts was normal and dying your bangs blonde and then parting them aloft and to the side, only allowing your freshly dyed hair to touch water maybe once a week. The cover “Mad World” just came out on the radio and we listened to it unironically. So Pharaoh using a rainbow was supposed to be a joke. Not like...a mundane thing we wouldn’t blink twice at in 2019 because rainbows are freakin everywhere.
And I should clarify that I’m referring to the the hyper cute Lisa Frank Revival. Not about how rainbows are a political symbol since the 90′s--that’s fine--that’s always been a thing, and I’m not docking the actual use of a rainbow both as a pride flag and as a Hawaiian license plate. I’m docking the market saturation of rainbows aimed at the five adults who can wear this stuff and still go to work somehow.
Anyway, a lot of Yugi’s duel is centered around Gansly making fun of his cute ass Kuriboh and saying it was too adorable to ever be effective so now I guess Pharaoh has decided to destroy the hell out of Gansly with a rainbow to get his revenge and to get his point across. Which is very Pharaoh of him despite the fact that this card is the opposite of Pharaoh’s entire emo/alt-rock aesthetic. Pharaoh just really needs to get in the last word always.
We get some more vignettes of what everyone else is up to and I gotta say they made a great use of Joey.
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Photoreal penguin sure asked a lot out of me. My brother on the other hand who freakin loves penguins was like “THIS IS THE BEST.” and I was like “but how did the penguin pick up a ROPE?” and he was like “shshshshshhh don’t ruin penguin for me!”
I guess using it’s beak? Or maybe there’s little human fingers on one of it’s little flipper wings?
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Anyways, the Kaibas have recovered from their orphanage/falling off of a cliff episode and are back to arguing in the way where Mokuba kind of lectures/begs his older brother and Kaiba goes “hhhrhhghghhhhh”
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Mokuba is also just going off about whether or not Seto was a good parent. He’s not. Seto is a terrible parent, and I am shocked that Mokuba is still surprised by this. Seto is a freakin child, but hey I guess Seto is better than a war criminal?
Mokuba just expects a lot out of Seto Kaiba. Over the course of this show, it’s becoming apparent that Mokuba is slowly starting to see the cracks in his older brother, I’m just surprised at how long it’s taking Mokuba to figure out that his brother has not just cracks but is spilling out basically everywhere and getting everyone they know possibly killed in the process. Most likely Duke Devlin. Still shocked Duke Devlin is still alive.
Mokuba’s not quite there yet, he’s still holding out. He’s still trying to reason with this kid who is flying a blimp onto an island he once blew up like a James Bond villain so he can play a bunch of cards on it. Mokuba’s...pretty delusional, but I guess so are all Kaibas.
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On the other side of town, Yugi decided he was kind of feeling bad about Pharaoh falling repeatedly on his own face. Which is also Yugi’s face. But also neither of their actual face since this is entirely in VR.
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Nothing was even fired at Yugi’s direction. He didn’t even get a chance to like...reach for his cards. He was just like “Oh damn never mind oh damn.”
Like all the rest of these characters seem like they still function pretty good at like 400 HP but Yugi is just out at like 1200 it feels like. Shouldn’t it be you can play until you hit 0? Not like it matters since Yami would just take over anyway.
On the other side of town Tea is rewriting memories with characters who were absolutely not here for this moment in S1.
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Could be that Tea has finally decided to recognize Duke and Serenity into the fold as much as Tristan, Joey and Yugi, or it could be that her memories are so freakin borked from S1 Pharaoh’s mind wipes, that she actually legitimately thinks both were there.
Funnily enough, she did not add Bakura to this memory. Whenever any other friend has had a vision where their buddies rallied them on, Bakura has always been included, but not this time. Nice. Maybe Tea is the only person who has figured out Bakura ≠ friend. Or maybe Bakura was just straight up written out of everyone’s memories when he died? Hell knows, the show still hasn’t talked about it. Bakura hella died, and no one has even talked about it. Of course no one is really next to each other at the moment so fine, I’ll let it pass.
Anyway, she decides to use this opportunity to prep for the upcoming Ironman challenge that I’m pretty sure she does once a year.
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There she goes, on her way to probably save Mokuba’s ass with her own ass, yet again. Tea and her weird strength. I have no idea where she stores it. I have no idea where it comes from. But Tea is like some sort of primal force of nature and she rarely ever uses it.
And then..........this happened.
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And then a purple horse with a scantily clad knight on it crosses this bridge to stab the fishman in the heart-it was a lot of unexpected stuff, guys. Again, completely normal for 2019. I could probably get a shirt with a rainbow and a unicorn with a knight on it from like...Target.
Oh My Oh My I just typed “unicorn on rainbow shirt target” into google and one of the first thing that popped up was a shirt with a chibi rainbow unicorn dabbing. My eyes. There were so many search results. Freakin dabbing. This particular shirt is clearly for children and not for 30′s but man I know like 6 people my age who probably already own this shirt.
Anyway, my apologies to all the fans of this fad, this is your time to shine, make the most of it, you are all valid and it is fine to love what you love. We all like different things. I’ll be here in my corner eagerly waiting for this fad to mercifully end so I can finally go back to the Tim Burton wannabe illustrator I used to be before I had to adapt to the hyper cute phase we’re in right now. I mean you have to humbly deal with the cards you’re given, and sometimes that means you have to draw some rainbows both in cards and also in actual drawings.
Doesn’t mean I have to like it.
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So, when Noah realizes he can’t exactly beat Yugi with cards he reaches for this instead:
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And guys, Yugi doesn’t even hesitate.
Like remember how Pharaoh walked straight into a creepy clown tent and shoved himself into a little tiny box in a dark room and got hellllla abducted in less than 2 minutes? It is SO EASY to abduct Yugi Muto. In fact, on seeing this magic door appear, Yugi even told Pharaoh “that’s a trap” and Pharaoh was like “that is a trap” and they both were like “I see no other options.”
When it’s like, Yugi, you are OUTSIDE. There’s no walls here--you could go literally anywhere else but the door.
But WTV, it’s Yugi logic.
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martyrskap · 6 years
Text
BEST PICTURE NOMINEES (2018) AESTHETICS.   repost, don’t reblog. bold whatever applies. tag whoever you want and feel free to add to the categories.
TAGGED BY :  @missionmade my wife TAGGING  :  @simnsays @fishsaves @gvinreed @bitterdeviance @detroitreznikoff @bewitcheds @artifilius @programbound n u !! i love y’all <3
THE SHAPE OF WATER  : early mornings. art on an easel. being trapped. flashy cars.  self-righteous intolerance. speaking volumes without a word. being submerged. learning and adapting. raindrops on windows.  bubbles rising in water.  cats.  taboo desires.  tanks of water.  kitschy nostalgia.  kissing underwater.  silence.  isolation. golden age hollywood.  sign language.  scales.  egg shells. jell-o.  the smell of cleaning supplies.  creature features. the space race. red coats. monstrous fairy tales.  lab coats. lunches in brown bags.the click of shoes.  smog.  dance routines.  slices of pie.  toxic masculinity. chains.  government secrets. seeing past flaws. floating aimlessly. needles. greens and blues.  deep, inexorable scars. gills.  music from the 30′s.  retro-futurism.  bloody handprints.routines. record players.  old movies. love in unexpected places.
PHANTOM THREAD  : a doll in a gilded birdcage.  butter to bread. the death of a mother. cycles. hidden messages. a disruptive presence.  longing.  wedding gowns.  posh control. post-war. brightly colored socks. inner turmoil. poison. an air of quiet death.  hallucinations. family dysfunction.  rich fabrics.  curses.  soft piano music.  restrained anger.  spinning out of control. artist and muse.  dark love.  pastels.  peace in the countryside.  clockwork dynamics.  perfection.  wild mushrooms. giving up every piece of yourself.  rags to riches.  ghosts.  new year’s. lingering gazes. needle and thread.  fine dining. hearing every sound.  being ambushed. ego.  flowing dresses. a person out of place.  defiance. ink to paper.  an artist tortured by their art.  obsessive personalities. peepholes.  soothing elegance.  silk.  spiral staircases.  driving at high speeds. high society.
THE POST  : typewriters.  newspapers. tense climates. distrust of authority. internal battles. a legacy at stake. secrets.  cover-ups. defending what you believe. peering through windows.  melodrama. political corruption.  behind closed doors. sniffing a scoop. ringing phones.  lying for over a decade.  cramming and crowding. cold grays. war. fluorescent lights.  treason.  shuffled papers. the jungle. a weight on your shoulders. fresh coffee. thousands of deaths. burglary. finding your voice.  risking everything.propaganda. tough choices. exposure. type being set by hand. workplace rivalries. abuses of power.  security breaches.  hierarchy.  a  bed strewn with papers and books.  paranoia. orders. clicking keys.  redacted files. desk clutter.  cigarette smoke. precious cargo.  vanished technologies. suspenseful conversations. facing charges.  courtroom battles.  suits and ties.
DARKEST HOUR  : never surrendering. duty. countless negotiations.  the flash of cameras.  beaches.  historic buildings.  guzzling booze.  resignation. utter catastrophe. bunkers.  radio broadcasts.  going against the odds. bathed in red light. a sense of humor. allies.  shouting matches.  small square windows.  selfishness.  walking with a cane.  war rooms. chandeliers.  dust floating in air.  righteousness. a poor reputation.  an elevator surrounded by darkness. a world at war. needing a miracle. interruptions. a last hope. cigar smoke. quoting poetry.  photos of a loved one.  a single sunbeam.  monarchy.  vanity. rescue missions.  refusing peace.  pallid chambers.  military uniforms.  taking a stand. common folk. suicide missions. drums of war.  tears down sullen cheeks.  reluctance.  complete collapse. evacuations.  enveloped by fog. changing history. blood, toil, tears and sweat.
THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI  :   severe burns.  police uniforms. sirens. the calmness of a deer.  strumming guitars. grieving. horrifying memories.  sucker punches. a lack of respect. facing threats.  skin under fingernails. flicking cigarettes.  awkward dates.  nasty rumors.  claustrophobia. lush green pastures. molotov cocktails.  the fire of anger and revenge.  strangers. no remorse.  bashing in windows.  the midwest. provoking a fight.  pointing fingers.  being pressed for time. rundown old houses.  grey morality. dark undercurrents.  insurmountable losses.  cruel laughs.  the american flag. dive bars.  guilty no matter what. buildings in flames.  ambulances. coughing up blood. spitting.  chewing on fingernails.  one versus many. black and red. not understanding another’s feelings. a mother and child. the pain of others.  a quest of justice. abandoned billboards. a hardened gaze. driving to nowhere.  small towns.  last letters. absurd violence.
CALL ME BY YOUR NAME  :   heartbreak.  unbuttoned shirts. fields of flowers. having to say goodbye.  cobblestone streets.  rendezvous at midnight.  battling temptation. academic paperwork.  peeling an orange.  80’s nostalgia.  classical music.  long walks. ancient artifacts.  abundant orchards.  shoulder massages.  expressive sexuality. remembering everything. staring into a fireplace.  dipping your feet in cool water. uncertainty. villa vacations. curly hair. longing gazes. riding a bicycle around.  mystery of love. balconies.  swimming naked. first times.  bathing suits.  roman statues.  secret sensuality.  peaches.  piano music.  sun-soaked summer.  having your nose in a book. just rooms apart. crystal blue water. growing attractions.  changing your name. intimacy beyond physical. love affairs.  rich wines.  finding pleasure in grief. daring to desire.  european lyricism. loving father figures. dancing to disco.  laying in green grass.  awkward adolescence. hands interlinked. sentimental jewelry. connection through identity. the magen david.
DUNKIRK :  burying a body.  warm cider. narrow escapes.  a race against time. a small boat. all hope lost. being unable to come home.  taken prisoner. shipwrecks.  assuming the identity of someone else. setting fire to it all.  smoke rising from a crash. sea foam.  seaports.  rendered blind.  dropping to take cover. land, sea, and air.  entangled in chain. toast with jam. suspense. waiting for escape. wounded men. lying in the sand. trauma. blank spaces.  sinking ships. commended a hero. cocking a gun.  swallowed by darkness.  bullet holes.obstacles and delays.  a hero’s welcome. planes overhead.  the sounds of a ticking clock. bullets ricocheting off metal.  people by the thousands. shell-shocked. the explosions of shells on shores. the sound of destruction.  rising tides. head injuries. target practice.  compressed time and space.  the perennial threat of death. oil ignited into flames. lying for the greater good.   blocking out the noise.  primal dangers. taking command. sole survivor.
GET OUT  : deer antlers. suburbs.  hypnosis.  strange behavior. familial tension. chopping wood. uneasy stares. tears and a smile. deception. fight or flight. blindness. survival.sinking into the floor. watching but powerless. strapped to a chair. plugged ears. a failed handshake.  car accidents.  sunken places.  something out of a nightmare. going hysterical. bingo cards.  smoking cigarettes. static on a television set. doing more harm than good. a hint of a smile. a stranger in any environment that is foreign to them. waiting for someone to come when they never will. overturned candles.  wealthy garden parties.  constantly looking over your shoulder. silence no matter how hard you scream.  trances.  catharsis. a battle of wills.  layers being peeled back. a cup of tea. nosebleeds. addiction. last bits of life leaving a body. black and white photography. sprinting at high speeds. conspiracies.  surgery. blankly polite speech.  noise of a spoon scraping across a teacup.  a deer in headlights. staring at your own reflection. unable to sleep. loyal friends.
LADY BIRD : california landscapes.  budding romance. uniforms.  consolation.  plain and luscious colors. apologizing. boorish sex.  prom dresses.  secondhand dresses.strong personalities. the theatre. being simultaneously warm and scary.  battling depression. 90’s fashion.  dreaming of elsewhere. partying. signatures on a cast. living on the wrong side of the tracks.  not being bound by any era. rejection.  sparklers.  thrift stores.  high school.  identity crisis. a place that looks like a memory. going behind backs.  disappointed parents. catholicism.  poverty.  busy new york city streets.  monotonous hometowns.  shitty bands.  teenage anarchy.  drifting in and out of friendships.  menial jobs. red hair.  self-given names. coming-of-age. a broken arm. excessive drinking.  first kisses.  cupcakes.  smudged eye makeup. strained relationships. screaming in the middle of the street. thoughtful letters.  standing out. decorated bedroom walls.  having a change of heart. expressing individuality.
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10ccs · 6 years
Text
BEST PICTURE NOMINEES (2018) AESTHETICS.   repost, don’t reblog. bold whatever applies. tag whoever you want and feel free to add to the categories.
THE SHAPE OF WATER  :  early mornings. art on an easel. being trapped. flashy cars.  self-righteous intolerance. speaking volumes without a word. being submerged. learning and adapting. raindrops on windows.  bubbles rising in water.  cats.  taboo desires.  tanks of water. kitschy nostalgia. kissing underwater. silence.  isolation. golden age hollywood.  sign language.  scales.  egg shells. jell-o.  the smell of cleaning supplies.  creature features. the space race. red coats. monstrous fairy tales. lab coats. lunches in brown bags. the click of shoes.  smog.  dance routines.  slices of pie. toxic masculinity. chains. government secrets. seeing past flaws. floating aimlessly. needles. greens and blues.  deep, inexorable scars. gills.  music from the 30′s.  retro-futurism.  bloody handprints. routines.  record players. old movies. love in unexpected places.
PHANTOM THREAD  : a doll in a gilded birdcage.  butter to bread. the death of a mother. cycles. hidden messages.  a disruptive presence.  longing.  wedding gowns.  posh control. post-war. brightly colored socks. inner turmoil.  poison.  an air of quiet death.  hallucinations. family dysfunction. rich fabrics.  curses. soft piano music.  restrained anger. spinning out of control.  artist and muse.  dark love.  pastels.  peace in the countryside. clockwork dynamics.  perfection.  wild mushrooms.  giving up every piece of yourself.  rags to riches.  ghosts.  new year’s.  lingering gazes.  needle and thread.  fine dining.  hearing every sound.  being ambushed. ego.  flowing dresses. a person out of place.  defiance.  ink to paper. an artist tortured by their art.  obsessive personalities.  peepholes.  soothing elegance. silk.  spiral staircases.  driving at high speeds. high society.
THE POST : typewriters.  newspapers.  tense climates.  distrust of authority.  internal battles.  a legacy at stake. secrets.  cover-ups.  defending what you believe. peering through windows.  melodrama. political corruption.  behind closed doors. sniffing a scoop.  ringing phones.  lying for over a decade. cramming and crowding.  cold grays.  war.  fluorescent lights.  treason. shuffled papers.  the jungle. a weight on your shoulders. fresh coffee. thousands of deaths. burglary. finding your voice.  risking everything.  propaganda. tough choices.  exposure. type being set by hand. workplace rivalries. abuses of power.  security breaches. hierarchy. a bed strewn with papers and books.  paranoia.  orders. clicking keys. redacted files.  desk clutter.  cigarette smoke. precious cargo.  vanished technologies.  suspenseful conversations. facing charges.  courtroom battles.  suits and ties.
DARKEST HOUR  : never surrendering.  duty.  countless negotiations. the flash of cameras. beaches.  historic buildings.  guzzling booze. resignation. utter catastrophe.  bunkers. radio broadcasts.  going against the odds.  bathed in red light.  a sense of humor.   allies.  shouting matches. small square windows. selfishness. walking with a cane.  war rooms. chandeliers.  dust floating in air.  righteousness.  a poor reputation.  an elevator surrounded by darkness.  a world at war. needing a miracle.  interruptions.  a last hope.  cigar smoke.  quoting poetry.  photos of a loved one.  a single sunbeam. monarchy.  vanity. rescue missions. refusing peace.  pallid chambers.  military uniforms. taking a stand. common folk.  suicide missions.  drums of war.  tears down sullen cheeks. reluctance. complete collapse. evacuations.  enveloped by fog.  changing history. blood, toil, tears and sweat.
THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI  :   severe burns.  police uniforms.  sirens. the calmness of a deer.  strumming guitars. grieving. horrifying memories. sucker punches. a lack of respect.  facing threats.  skin under fingernails. flicking cigarettes. awkward dates.  nasty rumors.  claustrophobia.  lush green pastures.  molotov cocktails.  the fire of anger and revenge.  strangers.  no remorse.  bashing in windows.  the midwest.  provoking a fight.  pointing fingers.  being pressed for time.  rundown old houses.  grey morality.  dark undercurrents. insurmountable losses.  cruel laughs. the american flag. dive bars. guilty no matter what.   buildings in flames. ambulances. coughing up blood. spitting.  chewing on fingernails.  one versus many. black and red.  not understanding another’s feelings.  a mother and child.  the pain of others. a quest of justice. abandoned billboards. a hardened gaze. driving to nowhere.  small towns. last letters. absurd violence.
CALL ME BY YOUR NAME :   heartbreak.  unbuttoned shirts.  fields of flowers. having to say goodbye.  cobblestone streets.  rendezvous at midnight.  battling temptation. academic paperwork.  peeling an orange. 80’s nostalgia. classical music.  long walks.  ancient artifacts.  abundant orchards.  shoulder massages.  expressive sexuality. remembering everything.  staring into a fireplace.  dipping your feet in cool water. uncertainty.  villa vacations.  curly hair.  longing gazes.  riding a bicycle around.  mystery of love.  balconies.  swimming naked. first times.  bathing suits.  roman statues.  secret sensuality.  peaches.  piano music. sun-soaked summer.  having your nose in a book. just rooms apart.  crystal blue water.  growing attractions.  changing your name.  intimacy beyond physical. love affairs.  rich wines.  finding pleasure in grief. daring to desire.  european lyricism.  loving father figures. dancing to disco. laying in green grass.  awkward adolescence. hands interlinked. sentimental jewelry.  connection through identity.  the magen david.
DUNKIRK  :   burying a body. warm cider.  narrow escapes. a race against time. a small boat. all hope lost.  being unable to come home.  taken prisoner. shipwrecks. assuming the identity of someone else.  setting fire to it all. smoke rising from a crash.  sea foam.  seaports.  rendered blind. dropping to take cover. land, sea, and air.  entangled in chain.  toast with jam.  suspense.  waiting for escape.  wounded men. lying in the sand.  trauma.  blank spaces.  sinking ships. commended a hero. cocking a gun. swallowed by darkness.  bullet holes.  obstacles and delays. a hero’s welcome. planes overhead. the sounds of a ticking clock.  bullets ricocheting off metal. people by the thousands. shell-shocked. the explosions of shells on shores. the sound of destruction.  rising tides. head injuries. target practice.  compressed time and space. the perennial threat of death.  oil ignited into flames.  lying for the greater good.   blocking out the noise.  primal dangers. taking command.  sole survivor.
GET OUT  : deer antlers.  suburbs.  hypnosis.  strange behavior. familial tension.  chopping wood.  uneasy stares.  tears and a smile.  deception.  fight or flight. blindness.  survival. sinking into the floor.  watching but powerless.  strapped to a chair.  plugged ears. a failed handshake.  car accidents.  sunken places.  something out of a nightmare.  going hysterical.  bingo cards.  smoking cigarettes.  static on a television set.  doing more harm than good.  a hint of a smile. a stranger in any environment that is foreign to them.  waiting for someone to come when they never will. overturned candles.  wealthy garden parties.  constantly looking over your shoulder. silence no matter how hard you scream.  trances. catharsis.  a battle of wills.  layers being peeled back.  a cup of tea.  nosebleeds.  addiction. last bits of life leaving a body.  black and white photography.  sprinting at high speeds. conspiracies. surgery.  blankly polite speech. noise of a spoon scraping across a teacup.   a deer in headlights. staring at your own reflection. unable to sleep.  loyal friends.
LADY BIRD  : california landscapes. budding romance.  uniforms. consolation.  plain and luscious colors.  apologizing.  boorish sex.  prom dresses.  secondhand dresses.  strong personalities.  the theatre.  being simultaneously warm and scary.  battling depression. 90’s fashion.  dreaming of elsewhere. partying. signatures on a cast.  living on the wrong side of the tracks.  not being bound by any era.  rejection.  sparklers.  thrift stores.  high school. identity crisis. a place that looks like a memory. going behind backs.  disappointed parents.  catholicism.  poverty.  busy new york city streets.  monotonous hometowns.  shitty bands.  teenage anarchy.  drifting in and out of friendships.  menial jobs.  red hair.  self-given names.  coming-of-age.  a broken arm. excessive drinking. first kisses. cupcakes.  smudged eye makeup.  strained relationships.  screaming in the middle of the street.  thoughtful letters.  standing out. decorated bedroom walls. having a change of heart.  expressing individuality.
tagged by: no one. i stole it from my dash hehehe tagging: @nogoodwitch​ / @lazergrrl​ , @rebellionheir​ , @cmissary​ , @khakeravdova​ , @mckaytriarchy​ , @neverarhyme​ & anybody else who wants to do this! 
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