#save her with fear

[chthonic-cassandra]

Just sitting still with the intensely visceral experience of watching Candyman last night; so much I want to say about it that I don't know where to start. It's been a long time since I felt absorbed in that particular way by a film. I don't really wish I'd watched it earlier - it feels like I came to it at just the right time.

Assorted thoughts, then:

the use of space, which I think is genius and key to the whole thing working - the overlay of the apartments on top of one another, which obviously functions symbolically but also works as a way of creating this uncanny concrete materiality. The paintings (endless amounts to say, much of it obvious, about Helen passing through the mouth), the gutted apartments, the overhead shots of the campus, and then finally the roof with its stone altar. All the spaces feel so clearly etched out, textured (blood on the walls, the rough cinderblock).

every single thing about Tony Todd's performance. the shot of just his feet in the parking garage, such precise physicality. The hook thing seems so silly in the abstract to every person who has grown up on Peter Pan, but it feels so visceral here. Extraordinarily sexy performance, which I knew it would be because I have seen Tony Todd act before, but, gods. It was so much more than I imagined.

the film is doing more nuanced things with race than it first appears, probably because Tony Todd made up the entire backstory. The choices of what not to say about the backstory were so smart - it really works that we don't know whether she tried to defend him or colluded with his murderers, that we don't know what happened to the baby. It also makes present-day Helen's relationship with power much richer.

candyman gets something truly profound and incredibly specific in its version of gothic romance. This thing where there is no distance, no distinction between the violence and the romance, where it's emphatically not the fantasy that the violent man will change for you, that you'll be the special one who isn't harmed (not not not Beauty and Beast, and that insane use of the Cocteau shot in the scene on the roof fascinatingly emphasizes that). be my victim/the pain, I assure you, will be exquisite/all you have left is my desire for you. the demand/invitation is to submit to one's own death/sacrifice; the only unity with the lover is possible in him killing you. that thing.

the score the score the score the score

[s0fter-sin]

alpha!ghost who's always hated the sound of an omega's purr; he’s always found it patronising, manipulative, an attempt to twist his biology - twist him - into submission like he's some animal

until he hears soap purr for the first time and it's about as choppy and comforting as a machine gun. there's nothing smooth about it, nothing seductive or wily; it's broken and guttural and the most honest noise ghost's ever heard outside his own growls

he doesn't use it to coo him into complacency, doesn't try to bend him to his will or smooth over his bristles. he's never tried to distract ghost from his anger, never used his intrinsic control over him to gentle him. hell, he seems to forget he can even do it, ghost hears it so rarely. it's only a touch above his growls, subharmonic and demanding attention instead of the pretty titter of a pampered omega

ghost hears it for the first time when he’s covered in blood not his, after he slits an enemy pinning him down from navel to chin; dark blood instantly soaking him. the body’s practically cool with blood loss already when he tosses it aside and rolls to his feet to find soap stock still, staring at him with a feral gleam in his eyes

he drops his jaw with a deep inhale, rolling the scent of blood and pissed alpha pheromones in his mouth and his chest rumbles with all the subtlety of a chainsaw

it's suddenly all ghost can do to keep himself from dragging the body and dropping it at soap's feet like a courting gift of old; to carve out his heart and rich organs and present them for his approval, to hold them to his mouth and never break eye contact as he takes his first bloody bite

ghost shakes it off, strangling the chuff trying to claw out his throat, and heads for the rv point and feels absolutely nothing when soap falls into step behind him without a word; his purr that more closely mimics an alpha's rumble an echoing memory

soap's far from a meek, compliant omega and he's no conniving prince wrapping alphas around his finger either; he's just as much a protector, an aggressor, as any alpha. he's never been ashamed of his instincts; never shied away from nuzzling into price's throat, purring for his pack alpha with no regard to the uncomfortable crowd surrounding them. never hesitates to wrap gaz up and drop him in his nest when the beta reeks of stress and sickly insomnia

and he never stops himself from baring his fangs with a guttural hiss whenever another omega dares to purr at ghost

it's a threat and a warning in one; something only the most foolish omega would ignore. he knows ghost has a complex relationship with omegas, knows it isn't something so pathetic as biological prejudice. something about omegas makes his lt's scent go flat and steely, as close to distress as he thinks he can manage and it makes something dark and old rise in his chest

territorial rage broils off him, strong enough to make the omega whine and back off with their tail between their legs without even taking a step towards them. the scent is sour and pungent enough to drown out ghost's subtle distressed smell, to hide it, and it makes him snort; shaking his head to try and clear it

soap all but trots up beside him, chirping in greeting. he sneezes playfully, lets him know the rage scent wasn't for him; never for him. he replaces it with happy-friend-pack, replaces it with nitroglycerin and burning sparklers and butts his forehead against his sternum instead of crowding into his throat and purring the way he wants to

he earned his way into ghost's pack, into becoming an omega not just accepted but welcomed and he won't jeopardise his hard won progress by pushing his purr on him

he lifts his head and grins as ghost cups his nape in a faux-scruff, something offensive and borderline taboo and if he were anyone else, he'd rip his hand off with his teeth. but it's ghost and ghost does strange things, things that reassure him on a deeper level than any purr or chirp could ever hope to, so soap presses into his gentling hand and bares his teeth in the thinnest facsimile of a smile at the retreating omega

all ghost has to do is aim him in the right direction and he'd bring the omega back to him in pieces; would gift him their torn out throat so they could never purr at him again

his chest rumbles subconsciously and soap gnashes his teeth, forcing his purr back down when ghost squeezes his nape

he thumps his temple into his and a puff of air tickles his ear, the closest thing soap's ever heard to a chuff from him and he couldn't stop his purr if he tried; choppy and broken as it is

you inhale enough explosive fumes and it's bound to damage something

ghost huffs again and soap presses up to nibble appeasingly at his clothed jaw, a question and an apology in each bite

ghost just takes the tip of his ear between his teeth, shaking it with a teasing growl and soap laughs as he tackles him just for ghost to bow over his back and wrap his arms around his waist; effortlessly picking him up and tossing him away

soap stays low and growls right back, a wild smile splitting his face. ghost meets him with a sneeze and his grin grows impossibly wider

if he can't hunt for his alpha, can't purr for him with blood on his teeth, he'll happily wrestle with him instead

[heartorbit]

find another role, carry on the show

[dykedvonte]

Jimmy tries so hard to not let Anya haunt his narrative but she is his narrative and he hates that.

Everything loops back to what he did to her and every hallucination, action and choice he makes or does directly goes back to her and he deserves that strife. She persisted and spoke up and he hates her for it. He can erase her but not her presence over them and that’s the best type of ghost.

[alvsanne]

House of the Dragon S02E05, S02E01, S02E02 and S01E04 // "Labour" by Paris Paloma // "Astyanax taken from Andromache" by Louis Desplaces // "Fire and Blood" by George R. R. Martin // "The Anger of Achilles" by Jacques-Louis David (detail of Clytemnestra with her daughter Iphigenia)

[tereladea]

samarie posting

[yashley]

imogen & fearne in c3e117

[hey-heigo]

au where everything is the same but kyoko is this thangg (design by @/babirousa)

[especiallyhaytham]

Some of the 1700s gang + twitter posts

[ilynpilled]

anyways cers and her violent exercising of power over taena and using assault as a method to emulate power and navigate (lol) her own repeated sexual violation at the hands of robert (and all of society under patriarchal hegemony tbr) as a way to desperately grasp at catharsis. i am in the mans position now, i am dehumanizing her and claiming my rights why dont i feel good? why doesnt it fix me? it rocks so bad thats real yuri to me

[lotus-pear]

rewatched madoka magica again today bc i fucking hate myself and to absolutely no one’s surprise i went through all five stages of grief in a single evening

[chthonic-cassandra]

Bartók wrote at the time of composition [of the opera Bluebeard's Castle]: 'Women should be accorded the same liberties as men. Women out to be free to do the same things as men, or men out not to be free to do things women aren't supposed to do - I used to believe this to be so for the sake of equality...' He does not go on to retract his opinion, but qualifies it as necessary because repressing women's desires constitutes a graver risk than allowing them equal expression. The heroines of twentieth-century stories about marriage to a beast no longer reject him: they are shown welcoming the discoveries the union brings them. The opera dramatizes a ritual of an initiation which can never be fully achieved, and its ultimate import, unlike its predecessor's, stresses surrender: Judith meets the fate that the earlier heroines are spared, but she steps into the void fully aware of what she is doing.

Marina Warner, From the Beast to the Blonde: On Fairy Tales and Their Tellers

[s0fter-sin]

something happening on a mission, something personal that has soap spiralling; panic and rage making him reckless, thoughtless, and ghost has to draw the line

“you’re compromised johnny; you know what that means?”

“you’re not pulling me out,” soap immediately snarls. he turns on him and ghost barely recognises him; venomous fear turning his eyes to unyielding ice. "you're not sidelining me; i need to be in this-!"

but ghost has never been afraid of venom; spat or dripped straight from bared fangs.

he snakes out a hand grip the back of his neck, jerking him in a rough shake. "if you can't think, you can't be a soldier," he growls and he flinches like he's been struck.

his lips quiver as they twist in a sneer and he wrenches, trying to free himself of his hold.

ghost doesn't let him.

"it means you give your body to me because your head ain't fucking attached to it anymore."

soap stills, body trembling beneath his hand as he sucks in shaking breaths.

he tightens his grip, pulling him closer and digs his forehead hard into his. “it means you give yourself to me so i can have the weapon that you are and use you the way you're meant to be used."

the ice in soap's eyes fractures.

ghost’s voice drops to a whisper, spoken only to johnny, not this facade of vengeance and pain, and wills it to reach him through the glaciers.

“so i can keep you safe ‘til it’s done and i can bring you back.”

[sojutrait]

beware coming back from your business trip early

chu hua when she saw the nanny

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts 0.2 Birth by Sleep - A Fragmentary Passage - The World Within

[mmmelahii]

Did you know? That she dreams of you more nights than not. You propped upon her lap; regaling her with the machinations of your mind while she brushes your hair. Pausing only to press a kiss on your candle warmed cheek. She mourns your death as you live.