#I couldn't include the entire line from the scene the second image is from but just know the whole line is implied

[musings-of-a-lit-student]

Prisoner of War: Part 9

Disclaimer: I don’t own Maus or any of Spiegelman’s work. I have attached the photos from the work itself, but do not claim to own the scanned version either. I highly recommend purchasing the book to support the original author. My thoughts do not represent the author's work and are merely my own interpretations.

Warning: MAUS is a graphic novel based on the author’s father’s experiences during the holocaust and includes anecdotes and scenes including violence, blood which may be considered triggering. 

Introduction: The work MAUS by Art Spiegelman is a novel that tells the story of Vladek Spiegelman and his experiences during the holocaust using an allegory and parallel storylines to depict the Vladek's past and Artie's present as he hears the story from his father. This work includes an autobiographical and biographical element due to the inclusion of two main characters - Vladek and Artie. Spiegelman makes the decision to introduce himself as a character in the work as a mouthpiece for himself.

Main Characters: Artie: The author Vladek: Artie's father Anja: Artie's mother Mala: Vladek's second wife Françoise: Artie's wife

Navigation ->Prisoner of War Masterlist -> Previous Part

MAUS by Art Spiegelman

Points of Interest:

Numerous POW

The huge line in the first image is a testament to the numerous jews, held captive by the germans during the first number. By drawing them as mice, Spiegelman avoids genuinely identifying these prisoners, and establishes them all as jews. A key point to note is the shading that makes it look like a rather stressful environment. We go on to ignore the other characters, zooming in to Vladek and the business-like conversation occurring.

Parshas truma

The significance of Parshas truma seems to have come to fruition, and the date seems to hold importance to the different events in their life. It seems telling that, Vladek has gained an attachment to that day, and thus his marriage to Anja is validated by this belief, and not a mention of Mala is made. There is more to the story than we know, and these important events in their lives have been shaped by this too.

Final departure

Trains are symbolic in this work because we see that there is always new things introduced. Vladek travelled in a train and met Anja, saw the Nazi flag for the first time in it, and now will return home via one. This image of the train seems stationary and hopeful, beginning a scary journey coming up ahead of them. The second page has the image of a train in the same place, but instead of a more stationary image, the train appears to be shadowed leaving us in the darkness. The movement seems ominous, and there's no place considered safe anymore.

Traumatised

Vladek focuses the story on the praise he received but the man he's next to him is traumatised. It is telling that Vladek couldn't foresee the death of his son, nor the suicide of his wife, and this choice of praise is rather morbid. Some of his losses show that Vladek was simply human, struggling to survive, while the others tell us that there was some substance to his beliefs, and leaves us in vagueness of the truth. In a typical Spiegelman fashion though, this panel has a third character, a jew entirely traumatised looking shell shocked from the events that occured. This contrasting attitude shows us that while Vladek may not have fully processed what happened to him, or blocked out the events to focus on his being right.

Chapter 2 Throwback

The idea of losing control has been seen in previous chapters where our characters throw the panel out place. A similar concept is seen here, where we look at map implying that Vladek had difficulty returning home. There's a difficulty in commuting such a distance, and Vladek is seen helpless to control the borders. This suggests a deepness to his struggle, and lets the readers understand the inconveniences prisoners had to face even after release. The map could also be a symbol of losing political control, and the upcoming dangers they will be facing.

Next Part

[zablife]

@call-sign-shark I read this as soon as it was posted bc I knew it would be epic. I waited to comment bc I wanted to reread it when I had more time and live blog, knowing I'd devoured it too quickly the first time and there would be additional thoughts upon a second read. Are you ready, darling? Here we go...

Can we talk about how quickly you summoned tears with your incredibly heartfelt depiction of Arthur comforting his terrified wife? The image of him, stroking her hair and whispering to her as he holds her close is lovely and endearing, not to mention a role reversal of Heaven soothing Arthur's demons in your canon. However, the sharp turn toward violence is totally unsettling, the mention of superhuman strength becomes an instant red flag that something more than nightmares is plaguing Heaven. My mind went into overdrive from this moment forward wondering what was taking hold of her.

The scene with Nina is so warm and cozy. I adore the portrayal of these two sisters-in-law, as their care for one another is evident. I squealed at the recognition of the biscuits from Reb's moodboard, loving every careful detail you included. My fave was Nina's pride at feeding Heaven bc it's such an Italian trait to fix everything with food!! However, the idea of her eating an entire plate by herself was another warning and I thought it was so clever that you quickly tied it into her late night eating and Arthur's suspicions of pregnancy.

The breadcrumbs you leave for the reader are subtle, but tantalizing as you add more unnerving elements to this tale. I wondered if Heaven's insatiable sexual appetite too had something to do with hormones, but it soon became clear this was not the case. The depiction of her broken and bleeding, begging for more and crying for help at the same time was disconcerting to say the least.

However, the next scene broke me as I read Arthur's solution to Heaven's insatiable hunger. His sacrifice moved me, but esp as I read Heaven's reaction to it, disgusted by her own compulsion. It makes so much sense that this becomes their ritual bc Arthur's love is too strong to allow her to suffer. Once again, I couldn't help but compare this to your series and what Heaven does for Arthur, reminding him there is good in his soul. They would do anything for each other no matter what the situation or universe. Ugh...this is so layered and gorgeous!!

I'm truly frightened by this next bit bc the animals sensing the evil within Heaven solidified my belief that she had shifted into an unnatural being. I couldn't help but shiver when she uttered this chilling line: "Arthur... I think I did something bad..."

A line has certainly been crossed now and we'll soon find out what that was. I'm dying to know more!! You've written a masterpiece, darling!

The Woods Whisper ||Part 1/2

Summary: After a terrific nightmare, your and Arthur’s life change for good. You start to suffer from a mysterious and excruciating hunger, which always seems to lead you to the forest.

Words: 3.2k

TW: Extreme violence, angst, cannibalism, graphic depiction of mutilation, blood kink (wow no one is surprised), piv, rough and unprotected sex but it’s short, supernatural AU.

Notes: written for @peakyswritings's 2k celebration and Halloween. Nina belongs to her. + important notes at the end of the post.

Reader is Heaven from the series Heaven in Your Eyes.

Since the first night they shared together Arthur knew of his wife’s violent nightmares. It seemed that the demons of your past waited for you to close your eyes in order to plague your dreams with the terrific memories of your family's murder and the men who hunted you down in the woods. After a while, Arthur became accustomed to your sudden screams at night and helped you calm down when you thrashed your limbs, fighting against some malevolent ghosts only you could see. When it happened, the tall gangster secured you in his strong arms and gently forced you to rest your head against his lean chest. With his long fingers lost in your snow-white mane, he would then cradle you with indescribable tenderness and whisper in your ear with his hoarse voice, rendered even more raspy by sleep. He didn't stop until your whole body relaxed, sinking in the soothing combination of his warm skin, chest hairs, lean muscles, and musky perfume. A familiar cocktail you assimilated with love and protection: as long as he was here, you knew that the monsters that were lurking in your most twisted nightmares wouldn't hurt you. Or at least they didn't until that one night.

This time you struggled with such violence that you threw a nasty punch to his face when Arthur pinned you against the mattress in a desperate attempt to calm you down. Taking advantage of his confusion, you jumped from the bed with supernatural agility, hurtled down the stairs at lightspeed, and ran outside, barefoot in the dawn-sprinkled weeds. The only thing covering your delicate frame was the thin and immaculate bedsheet that floated behind you at the winter wind's discretion.

“Angel!” Arthur yelled, running behind you as he saw your frail silhouette reaching the vast and dangerous woods that were at the edge of your property. The gravel of his voice echoed with the rumble of the thunder as he called your name, but the savage drums you heard in your trance were louder than him. Arthur had no other choice than to pounce on you before you disappeared into the frozen forest all naked, that was why he shoved you to the ground. A chilling scream escaped from your plumped lips as you fought under his grip but fortunately enough he had more strength. Keeping you pinned on the muddy soil, he tried to make you come back to your senses by shaking you “Wake up! Please, Heaven, wake up! This is just a bloody nightmare!"

“They whisper to me! They whisper to me!” You cried out, moving your head from left to right and fighting like a demon, eyes still shut.

“Fookin’ who?!” Arthur shook you a bit more bluntly, panic kicking in him as he realized that you were still deeply embedded in a profound sleep he couldn't pull you from.

“The woods whisper to me!” You whimpered, your inexhaustible and unusual strength mysteriously increased by your psychosis, “They are calling me home!” Your siren-like voice turned into a banshee's laments and, with one powerful push, you suddenly managed to turn around to lay flat on your stomach and dug your nails into the ground in a desperate attempt to crawl closer to the forest. Overwhelmed by the situation, Arthur had no other choice than to resort to physical violence.

"For fuck's sake, Heaven!"

He didn't know how he managed to throw you over his shoulder just like a floor bag but he did and, wasting no time, he brought you home without minding how hard your tiny and muddy fists banged against his back or how you tried to kick him by thrashing your legs like a wild animal fighting for its life.

“Sleepwalking it is.”

“I don’t sleepwalk.” You mumbled, hands cupping your warm mug filled with hot cocoa, and your knees, which were pressed against your breasts, tightly glued together. Nina got up from the sofa and walked towards the gargantuan dining table of Arrow House’s living room to grab a plate of homemade biscuits she had baked for Tommy even though her husband thrived off whiskey and cigarettes rather than edible and healthy food. As she did, your crystal eyes followed your new sister-in-law’s every move, losing yourself in your thoughts as you watched the Sicilian girl’s elegant gait. With her beautiful tan skin, honey-pooled eyes, and long black hair, Nina Ferrante was your strict opposite. She was made of sun and fire, lava probably running through her veins. When she put her warm hand on the frozen and porcelain skin of yours, you batted your Bambi lashes to shoo your thoughts away and looked at the young Sicilian woman.

“It's nothing but sleepwalking and it tends to get better with time. Maybe Arthur and you should spend a few nights here, away from the forest?”

“Hm.” You replied absentmindedly, putting the mug on the coffee table only for your fingers to reach for the delicious biscuits Nina had made, “I don’t think it would solve the problem. Even when I’m not sleeping at home I still hear them at night.” You took a bite of the biscuit, its hard dough crunching under your sharp teeth. The sweet flavor of sugar and strawberry jam melted on your tongue -- You closed your eyes and hummed with satisfaction.

“What do you hear?” Nina inquired, visibly worried for you for your angelic complexions were undermined by the red bags under your eyes and the weight you had lost. In truth, you had always been thin and tiny, but your adorable cheeks and the voluptuous curves of your thighs proved you were in perfect health. That was just your body shape. Yet, since the night of this horrific nightmare, you had started to lose a great deal of weight and looked more and more gaunt.

“Drums. I mainly hear some odd drums coming from the woods,” You ate another biscuit, “And there are the whispers. It's not someone whispering to me but it’s more like an unintelligible mix of people murmuring incomprehensible things together.” Another biscuit, they were good, “Maybe I’m just becoming crazy.” You finally said, attempting to lighten the tense atmosphere with a joke and a small shrug. Your glossy lips curled in a faint, reassuring smile but it didn’t work: Nina still looked deeply concerned.

“At least you’re eating well.” She said encouragingly when she noticed you had just eaten the entire plate of biscuits by yourself.

“Fuck. I’m sorry.” Surprised by your own appetite, you brought your hand over your mouth, aquamarine eyes wide open in shame.

“Don’t be. I’m glad someone ate them ‘cause Tommy doesn’t anyway. And you know… My aunts used to tell me that eating is a sign of good health. But that's an Italian thing.” Nina’s beautiful smile shone as bright as her honey eyes, but the worried glow in her iris betrayed how serious she thought the matter was.

A few days passed and Arthur noticed brutal changes in your habits. It started with snacking between meals and, even if it seemed to be anodyne, it was something you never did. While not particularly picky with food, you were careful with your diet, taking care of always eating very balanced meals that would suit your small appetite. At first, Arthur thought that your insatiable hunger was due to an unexpected pregnancy. Maybe the baby and your hormones asked you for more energy? But your snacking habit soon took another extreme turn. Constant cravings turned into frenzy binge eating. You ended up waking up in the middle of the night and emptying the kitchen's cupboards. Anything edible disappeared crushed under your teeth as you compulsively ate until your jaw ached. But no matter the amount of food you ingested, nothing seemed to fill the void inside of you. You ate, you ate, and you ate but you were never full.

Moreover, this ravenous hunger wasn't confined to food only. The gaping hole inside of you craved sex. Unhealthy, messy, and nymphomaniac sex. A relentless rhythm even Arthur had trouble keeping with, and God knew he had stamina. The oldest Shelby brother had barely hung up his long black coat when you threw yourself in his arms and devoured his lips, drool running from your chin. You didn't leave him time to catch his breath or to reach the bedroom. In fact, your sly and cold fingers were already tearing his shirt apart and unbuckling his belt while your whole body quivered with excitement. To hell with the bed, the floor would do the trick: you wanted him now.

Adrenaline shot through your veins and gave you enough strength to push him on the ground. Confused but equally aroused, Arthur's back leaned against the couch and he let you rid him. A cry of pleasure escaped from your starving mouth as you took him entirely inside of your tight core with one brutal thrust. He stopped breathing for a short while and dug his nails into the flesh of your hips, starstruck. Considering your size difference, your husband knew that you usually needed a bit of time to adjust to the sensation of his cock stretching your throbbing walls, even after years of marriage. Sometimes he used this characteristic of you to his advantage when he wanted to see you scream his name between two sobs. And yet, you didn't seem to mind the pain anymore. On the contrary, you immediately went for a furious pace, hopping on his lap with your small and round breasts bouncing. With his mouth agape, Arthur's calloused hands clenched on your pale flesh and he closed his eyes, letting out a compendium of moans, grunts, and cuss words. That was fine with him -- he liked it rough and he knew that his angel-looking wife could be the naughtiest whore.

The simple sight of you fucking yourself on his hard shaft, growling like an animal, made him higher than the purest opium he had shot in his veins. He only started to understand the extent of your despair and greed the moment you kept moving your hips fiercely even after you both came. The gangster had done his best: he had worked you with his long fingers, buried his face between your legs until his jaw hurt, and filled you countless times in every position he knew, but you had never enough and it was starting to become painful for him too.

"Easy angel, ay? Easy -- oh fuck." He threw his head back, his lower lip trembling and his mustache twisting from time to time, "L-last round ay? I'm fookin' empty." But you weren't listening.

"More! More! Need more, Art! Please..." You begged. In the depths of your soul, a voracious maw of desire yawned. It was a starving abyss, a giant crevice in your being nothing could ease. Making your two bodies snap faster, you didn't notice the thin trickle of blood that had started running down your inner thighs. The pain should have made you stop but you couldn't. "I'm gonna --" When Arthur felt your pussy clenching around him, he worked you through your orgasm despite being a breathless and sweaty mess. Closer, closer... The moment the knot in your stomach snapped, you instinctively sunk your teeth into Arthur's freckled shoulder.

"Fuck!" Arthur grunted through gritted teeth, a searing shock of sensation coursing through him. The piercing pain that followed, acute and unexpected, made him reach the stars. He came in a long and raspy groan, releasing his load for the umpteenth time deep inside of you. "Heaven!" Pleasure exploded in you like fireworks, resulting in you rolling your teeth and biting Arthur even harder. His blood brimmed over your mouth, gushing from the wound in long crimson trails. Your teeth were so deep into his flesh that you could have ripped a chunk of him. Silent fell again in the living room, only broken by the fire crackling in the hearth and the melody of your panting breathing. You remained like this all the while you cooled down, breathing fast through your nose as your starving tongue still licked the blood of your husband, relishing its metallic and slightly sweet taste. "'S'Alright, love." Arthur's shaky hand gently stroked your back to tame your wild spirit. "Your Arthur's here." He whispered softly, tenderly, for you had started to quietly sob in agony.

"M-More..." Tears fell down your rosy cheeks as you realized that something was definitely wrong, "Fuck me more. Hurt me, breed me, I don't care but please... Please do something I can't take it anymore..." You whispered with your bleeding mouth, exhausted, your whole body sore, but still starving.

Arthur had told the family you were sick to keep up appearances and explain your absence. No one asked any questions nor showed signs of doubt except for his cunning sister-in-law Nina, who would stare at him in disapproval. But how could he explain what was happening to you now that the situation had worsened? In fact, Arthur would frequently find you nestled in the middle of the kitchen at night, your delicate form cradled in a graceful curl and your knuckles met by your tender lips as you bit them until crimson tears trailed down your porcelain skin. You did so only to hush the unrestrained, agonizing crescendo of hunger that writhed within you, rendering your sobs into whispers only the silent home and your helpless husband could fathom. The lanky gangster had tried everything to help you alleviate the pain but nothing had worked so far. The one and only trick that would get you relaxed for one to two hours was when he allowed you to take a bite of him. So each time he would find you crying, he wouldn't think twice. Arthur slowly unbuttoned his shirt and opened it, exposing his chest to you as you both sat on the kitchen floor.

"Go ahead, love. Bite me."

“No!" You protested, anger flashing in your crystalline eyes. As much as your husband's support helped you go through it, you hated the idea of hurting him. An intense feeling of shame and sorrow would shake you when you looked at his scarred body. His freckled skin was littered with deep and swollen bite marks, which constantly reminded you of how monstrous you were. But Arthur wouldn't have it — seeing you in pain was torture to him. He would give everything he had and never had only to content your bottomless hunger, even if it meant sacrificing his own flesh. His strong and calloused hands grabbed you by the hips and pulled you to him. Nestling your nose in the crook of his neck, you let out a shaky sigh at the soothing sensation of Arthur's fingers massaging your scalp and bringing your face closer to his skin in a silent invitation. The delicious scents of his natural perfume intoxicated you, leading you to take a long inhale of him. You wanted to resist, you really did, but all your goodwill couldn't compete with your husband's exquisite taste, a taste that was already making you salivate. Finally, you abandoned yourself to your vices and gave Arthur's neck a few little licks before diving your teeth into his juicy flesh. His body jerked a bit against yours but the stinging sensation quickly released endorphins in him and turned the experience pleasurable. Or maybe he was just completely fucked up.

"A good girl you are, eh." A gravelly moan escaped from his mouth as he felt you lapping the blood that was gushing out of the fresh bite like a famished kitten licking milk. The relief you would feel following your twisted cannibalistic ritual would only be momentary, but at least you might enjoy the luxury of a good nap. After a short while, you eventually pulled your head back from his neck, your otherworldly pale eyes staring at his complexions with great attention. His dark blue iris met yours as your frozen fingers ghosted over his face, tracing the lines of his appetizing lips and the crowfeet at the corner of his eyes.

"I don't deserve you." Your hypnotizing siren-like voice was mainly a whisper. Arthur laid a tender kiss on your fingers before arching one of his thick eyebrows, "Look at me, I'm a fucking monster."

"Ye ain't a monster, angel." He immediately corrected you, leaning over your face to steal a kiss from your bleeding mouth. Far from being undisrupted by the crimson hemoglobin he smeared on his own lips doing so, the lanky gangster kissed you again but with more passion this time, tongue waltzing with yours. A shiver of desire ran through your famished body at the dizzying taste of blood and whiskey. When he broke the kiss, your breath was slightly hitching. "You're the most dazzling creature I've ever seen, and I promise I'll do everything in my power to find a solution to soothe yer hunger." Arthur swore, the glow of a mad and obsessive love dancing in his eyes, "That will be our secret ay."

"Our secret." Your mouth, painted in a gruesome shade of crimson, curled into a wicked and enamored smile. The blood, thick and vicious, clung to your lips and stood against your otherwise delicate and angelic features.

Dead branches cracked under your feet but apart from them, a stern silence lingered in the forest, only disrupted by the eerie howling of the wind. Your pale locks seemed to shimmer and merge with the ethereal glow of the night, casting an unsettling radiance on their fresh-fallen snow color. As you walked all naked with a haunting grace, your steps echoed softly in the silence of the woods. A winter breeze caressed your bosom, making your nipples harden, but you didn't react, unable to feel cold anymore. Surprisingly enough, no animal had dared cross your path, as if they sensed what kind of lethal and inhumane creature you had become. The only exception was the majestic deer that was by your side, accompanying you like a silent sentinel with ashen fur. The black pools of darkness that constituted its eyes contrasted with yours, glassy like the clouded gaze of a corpse. Yet, you still bore one common feature: an uncanny malice shone in them. In your trance, you reached for the deer antlers, your fingertips gently stroking its bony texture. Guided by the drums and the whispers, you disappeared into the depths of the woods, tired of fighting against this alluring call.

How long did you wander in the woods? And what had happened in there? No one could knew. What Arthur knew though was that when he woke up, you were sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapped in the sheets, and your tiny shivering being painted in red.

"Arthur... I think I did something bad..."

"What... The bloody hell..."

He mouthed, his steel blue eyes gawking in shock at the majestic and bony antlers on your head.

notes: While this is mainly a supernatural AU written for both Halloween and my lovely moot’s celebration, the myth of the Wendigo is one of the inspirations that brought the character of Heaven to life. From her aesthetic (forest, antlers...) to the whole atmosphere and story of her hunting down men in the woods prior to her coming to Birmingham, the myth of the Wendigo is embedded in the essence of her character. This is partly due to the fact that it’s my favorite creature along with the myth of the boogeyman, but also because of my long-term fascination with cannibalism. Admittedly, the myth of the Wendigo is Algonquian and has been twisted a lot by Western media. Yet, I tried to respect some aspects of the original beast the best I could and sincerely hope it won't pass for cultural appropriation.

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

✞ Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996

[revchainsaw]

One Cut of the Dead (2017)

Spoiler Alert. I have never made the claim that this is a spoiler free film blog. I barely consider this a collection of film reviews as much as it is a space for me to have a one sided conversation about movies. I don't want to limit myself to the constraints of spoiler free content, for one because I believe in most cases we don't watch films to be surprised. I read many books, and many of those books have been adapted into films, and never once has knowing what is going to happen ruined my experience of a film. In regards to One Cut of the Dead however, I think you owe it to yourself to stop reading right here and go and see this film for yourself. I'm going to get the letter grade out of the way right now and let you know without any context that One Cut of the Dead get's an A from Reverend Chainsaw and the Cult of Cult. However, if you've already seen the movie and you would like to worship along with the Cult Film Tent Revival, please read on.

The Message

One Cut of the Dead is a two for one punch. First we are told the story of a film director who goes to extreme measures to create his zombie film. These extreme measures include shooting in a former testing facility and using an occult ritual to bring real zombies into the mix. The real zombies terrorize the actors and the crew as the mad director sporadically pops in and out shouting "Action". This almost 40 minute short film is of course done in one outstanding take. Due to all the running and chasing if you are a fan of butts more than faces, you will have a pleasant time. Still, this short film is off, there are strange lags where characters jump up from off screen for one reason or another, points where the camera drops and points at the ground, or where long drawn out conversations occur or the action just suddenly stops for an unexplained reason. What could possibly be happening?

Well, this is why when the credits roll early on in the feature you should stay tuned. You see our One Cut meta film, is actually a film within a film. Every thing that can go wrong will go wrong. Higurashi is a small time director living in Japan who specializes in small projects. One day he is scouted by the Zombie channel that is looking to launch it's premier with a very special project. Impressed with Higurashi's signature style "cheap but average", they propose that he be their man. The Zombie Channel wants to do a LIVE ONE TAKE thirty minute short film. After initially taking a moment to realize this insane idea is no joke, Higurashi agrees.

The filming takes way. The cast is difficult, the crew is barely manageable, and Higurashi and his wife are forced by their strange circumstances to take prominent roles in the chaotic picture. Equipment breaks down, improvisations are required, and there is no time for bathroom breaks. "One Cut of the Dead" proves a bizarre testing ground for our likeable rogues and they somehow manage against all odds to pull it off, explaining every quirk and oddity in the short films run time.

Please, please treat yourself and join me in receiving The Benediction.

Best Aspect: All is Revealed

One Cut of the Dead is so frustrating that it's brilliant, and so brilliant that it is frustrating. I want to know so badly if the film we see in the first half, is actually made up of footage that was being shot by the cast as the second half was being filmed, as opposed to being shot like a traditional movie. If so, It would add yet a third level of beautiful meta narrative to this movie.

What is particularly brilliant is that it does not sell itself as a film about film making, but as a much easier film where "it turns out the monsters are real", spoopy doopy stuff. Once you go in expecting that and you see all this surreal amateur stuff happening it keeps you intrigued. Why is the zombie pausing, why did those legs just appear on screen and walk off? Your left wondering what is happening and then the credits roll and the second part of the movie begins.

The second half is hilarious and it's so fun as you have each little mystery resolved and it's never boring but almost always mundane. This is not a horror movie, well it does contain a horror movie, but this is a love letter to all those happy accidents. I particularly love Evil Dead and the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, a love that is fueled by the chaotic stories that happened behind the scenes. It may be scripted, but One Cut of the Dead gives me all the satisfaction of watching a low budget horror romp, immediately followed by it's charming creation myth.

Worst Aspect: A Hat wearing a Hat

That said, it's strength is also a weakness. It is hard to write about, it's hard to always keep your head straight. This movie is a movie about making a movie about making a movie, it also is contains the movie about making a movie. Are you lost? No? Maybe I'm just dumb. It helps to not try to hard to explain it. And it only takes a little time to keep it all straight, but then again that's asking way more of the audience than most films do. Personally, it's barely even a problem, but that just speaks to how freaking great One Cut of the Dead is.

Best Character: In on the ACTION!

There is not a single character in One Cut of the Dead that is unlikeable, I almost did not give this movie a best character. However after a little bit of thinking I came down to Higurashi or Nao. Oh how I love you Nao, you crazy wild thing. But when it comes down to just candid hopefulness, and a hero that you root for the whole movie, Higurashi is the man. Every time he solves a problem and smiles it just warms my heart. I keep watching to see Higurashi succeed and anxiously anticipate his failure. The satisfaction the audience feels at the completion of this film hinges entirely on whether you want Higurashi to accomplish his herculean task.

Most WTF Moment: POOP!

I'm not even going to explain this one. Just know that there is a line of dialogue that is simply "poop" and it'll get ya.

Most Memorable Shot: Ritual Site

In lieu of a Best Kill category or another Worst category (which is hard to come up with in regards to One Cut), I'd invented the Most Memorable Shot category. It's not the same as a scene because in my minds eye I'm not thinking of a whole sequence. if I were I'd have to give it to the titular one cut. What I mean is a solid shot that sticks with me when I close my eyes and think about this film. And at the conclusion of the film within a film our lead actress is clutching a knife, facing the camera that is staring down at her, and at her feet is a massive pentagram made of blood. It's a really cool image and if you've seen the movie you know how much Higurashi and the crew worked to get that specific image in your mind. You could say out of all the visuals in this movie the pentagram shot is the top of the pyramid.

Summary

Once Cut of the dead is so enjoyable I've watched it 3 times in 2 days. Every time I rewatch it I catch something else. My initial motivation was to see the first segment again with the thought of the second segment in mind, but I just couldn't stop there. This movie is candy. This movie is cocaine. If you love horror films for the artistry (or lack there of) and not just for the scares, then this movie will hit many sweet spots for you. Don't sleep on this. Get a Shudder subscription and watch One Cut of the Dead, and then watch it again.

Overall Grade: A

[shameless-army]

Ah a emotional fic from you. I didn't know I needed this. Amazing. Jin character is adorable i wanna kith so bad 🥺🥺🥺 he cares so much about OC. He is so gentle, kind, confident, and funny. The characterisation is on point.

Although I love to read daddy dom jin most of the time. Irl I think looking at how he is, he is more of a softie. And this characterisation rings true.

OC my beloved is so cute lol. The glitter is not something I think should be funny cause it takes serious assets and skills to pull that off. And she did pull that off. But it's so funny, like Idk why I am laughing just know its hilarious.

Ooo the slow burn, I would consider this a slow burn. The scene in which OC passes out. I was so mad lol. Like I know why she passed out but it's just that I KNOW THESE IDIOTS LOVE EACH OTHER AND SHE OVERTHINKING AND I AM SAD AHHHHH. The cafe scene was so sad as well, both of them reading each other wrong. Poor jin must have felt terrible when OC corrected him. Both of them are idiots.

Lastly the smut was perfect. It ringed true to the characters. This part at least needed something not too dramatic and it was just that. It wasn't ackward, which is an important thing when angst turn into smut.

Some of the parts I desperately wanted to comment on -

Like a lovesick puppy, kicked to the streets, with nowhere to call home.

Awww the pain. Poor OC. Whose gonna tell her 😭😭

You lift your head to meet his eyes again, letting him see the tears you were hiding. You find a couple in his eyes, too.

This part is so precious for me, I cry very easily and I know it's cause I feel so much. To know OC cried cause she loves jin so much and to see that reciprocated made me very giddy.

“I love you in my clothes,” he admits in a heartbeat, his expression that of anguish, “can we move on?”

This had the same energy as jin's "what are you doing now" Idk why, they don't even match. But I chuckled a bit here. Cause obviously jin doesn't want to wait and get d straight to the point.

Your mouth is filled with his dick even before your knees hit the ground. Jin staggers back, but your suction on his dick is funnily strong enough to pull him back before falling. 

Why is this hilarious, the mental image this conjures is so funny 🤣🤣🤣🤣 I am still laughing at it reading it back lol.

“Oh man, stop. What’s worse than busting a nut in your mouth? Busting it while you’re kissing me. Making me feel like a teenager.”

“I hope I don’t have the bacon-flavored one.”

They both are adorable, I love them a looooot. He is so honest. I love him 😭😭😭 also he is so funny I laughed out loud at the second line. But the bacon condom is perfectly on brand.

“Is that…” Jin is trying to contort his lips and halt the looming snicker, and he brings his eyes down to your chest (trying not to get hard again), “Did you have makeup on your chest?”

I was crying laughing here OMGGGGGGGG the second hand embarrassment 🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈 but its so funny lol

“They always look good,” he whispers, his admittance setting your chest aflame, “trust me, I’d know.”

UFF and they say the perfect ending does not exist. I wanted to wolf whistle here so bad lol. I had butterflies in my stomach and a stupid grin on face. I love him 😭😭

P. P. S. You know you don't have to reply to the review always in great detail right?? Don't get me wrong I love it when you do. But you have other things and you have Already given me a treat with your fics😊😊.

I loved this. Amazing story. As you said I read so many great authors, which includes you by the way, you write one of the most soul satisfying smut. Trust me I would know 😉

P. S. I am finally done with your whole masterlist Usually, I leave 1 or 2 fics to get the experience of the author's writing style again, but with you I couldn't control myself. So you are the only author whose entire works is gobbled by me, that too in such a small amount of time. Idk what I will do now (feels like my emotional support drama got over), glad all of your works can be read many times. Cause they all are very good😊😊.

Opaline Moon (m)

“The Moon can never breathe, but it can take our breath away with the beauty of its cold, arid orb.” - Munia Khan

➺ Banner: @hobiandsprite​ 💕

➺ Pairing: Seokjin x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Friends to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11.2k

➺ Summary: You are ingrained to love Jin, right upto the blood that courses through your veins. Confessing, however, is a whole other game. So it’s a good thing you’re bad at keeping your hands to yourself, because happenstance can handle the rest. 

➺ Warnings: talks about dance floor fucking, making out in the bar bathroom, fingering, pussy slapping, passing out drunk, daydreams about thigh riding, reader masturbates, they make out A LOT, neck kissing, a hickey, nipple play, some biting, cum eating (kind of, you’ll see), blowjob, protected sex!, reader and jin are corny, the hurt is real but the sex is real-er

➺ Author’s Note: My lovely, lovely moots - @taegularities​, @kithtaehyung​ and @baepsaetan​, thank you so much for betaing this and hyping it up, your comments made this fic a hundred times better! As I mentioned on the teaser, this fic took a lot out of me, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing the angst and will write more whenever the story aligns! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing, and I hope this lovable Jin reaches your heart! (ngl, in usual fashion, I will come back and edit it again, so if you see a spelling mistake, your eyes are lying to you) Do let me know what you think, your asks and comments make my day!

This is the second part of my Dress Down series, find more at it’s masterlist!

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Sweltering heat. Blaring traffic. Little to no sleep. Through all things wrong, one man’s thoughts wrapped around you like a cooling breeze, a shield to protect you from the vicissitudes of reality, to draw you back into all of him. Unfortunately, your reality may never see that day come to light.

Kim Seokjin.

Kim Seokjin, the man who cooked you up a greasy break-up meal at three in the morning with not a sight of discomfort, putting your needs above all.

Kim Seokjin, whose puns make you roll your eyes heavenward, half awed at how he manages to pull one out of his collection at a moment’s notice, and half irked by the untimely laugh it brings out of you.

Kim Seokjin, the man who will never be yours, and you have no one to blame but yourself. 

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