#those mid credit scenes will always destroy me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dear-yandere · 5 years ago

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hiraeth (ii).

hiraeth (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.

yandere! don! giorno giovanna x f! reader. collab with @ddarker-dreams. read part one here! do not re-upload or use our writing without permission.

› warnings: angst, blood and gore, poisoning, canon-typical violence, death. › word count: 9.3k. › art credit: spearthymint.

Intrusive, lifeless eyes watch on from afar with tangible disgust. Hatred being the driving point behind his entire existence, all positive emotions are but a long forgotten memory of the past. To see the devil incarnate rejoicing in the fine pleasures of life is sickening, enough to make his head spin in further abhorrence. Observing from a safe, undetectable distance has been a rough challenge. All for the sake of procuring revenge, to fill the hole in his heart Giorno Giovanna tore out all those years ago.

Fueled by malice, the Stand, Snake Oil, slithers in the shadows of false paradise. More akin to a hybrid between human and snake, Snake Oil is the size of a fully grown man when stretched out to his fullest. His appearance is similar to that of a cobra, clad in ebony scales that serve as armor and dull, ruby eyes. Despite his imposing physique, it is truly unfortunate; having seen Giorno up close, Snake Oil knows killing him is impossible. So he’ll go for the next best possibility, inflicting the same pain he felt all those years ago. Having what you love most in the world ripped from you, torn apart before your eyes until nothing but blood and flesh remain. This is the bleak world of gangsters. To take and be taken from. To maintain equilibrium, vacillating between the highest of triumphs and lowest of defeats. Snake Oil has known nothing but the latter, surrounded by loneliness and bitterness that festers like an open wound. The scars of that day remain, the corpses of his family attempting to defend one another a grim reminder. A reminder that he’ll grip until his last breath, his only anchor in this world.

An eye for an eye.

The two of you are a picture perfect scene; pity how such beauty is fleeting. All it’ll take is a single opening. Giorno’s guard is lowered considerably, but he clings to you like an insistent shadow. How irritating. If only he left your side for a few more moments, then you’d be within range to kill. To have revenge just within grasp feels surreal in the best of ways. It brings a rush that the Stand hasn’t felt in years. The pain that makes up his resolve has yet to fade, pulsing and growing stronger as he searches for an opening.

There’s a visible shift between you two.

Snake Oil’s uncertain of the nature of things from this distance, gathering clues to the greater picture through body language. You’re on edge, impulsive, as you separate from Giovanna’s clutches, however momentary it may be. Snake Oil realizes this is the best opportunity he’ll be afforded. It isn’t the ideal set of circumstances, with your insistent shadow nearby, but it’s enough to be out of Gold Experience’s range. The Stand possesses great speed, a skill that will be fully taken advantage of in this course of this plan; in this moment, it seems more like a blessing than a skill, given who he’s going up against.

Checking to make sure the Don doesn’t follow you and remains seated, fate finally seems to have smiled upon Snake Oil today. This is the best opportunity he’ll get.

Slithering from his hiding spot amongst thickets, he lunges at you from behind. A horrified shriek leaves your lips at the constricting sensation surrounding you, body feeling like it may explode at any second. The air is forcefully pushed from your lungs, breathing growing erratic. Out of instinct, you struggle in hopes of freeing yourself, to no avail.

Two, phantom-like apparitions phase through your neck. You cry out, but the sound is pitiful and choked, dying mid air. The skin of your neck is raw, the insides slightly turned out and exposed in order to accommodate the invisible fangs of your attacker. The area pulses, quickly numbing when a venom is injected into your veins. The change is immediate, your eyes widened to their brim and your screams choked into your throat like spit. Your vision darkens slowly, the grip you once had on your consciousness now gone; the last thing you remember is the shock on Giorno’s face.

Giorno rises in an instant, a flash by his side procuring Gold Experience Requiem to come to your defence. Before any more movements are made on either side, Snake Oil takes control of the situation by speaking in a booming voice. It commands authority, knowing that leverage is within his grasp. That this wicked man wouldn’t dare endanger your life.

“Make one, tiny move, and I snap her neck.”

This is the plan, for better or worse. For Snake Oil to utilize its ability, a fast acting venom that’ll kill you within minutes. The in-between time of injection and subsequent organs shutting down will take place. During this period, he’ll finally find satisfaction in Giovanna’s suffering, helpless to aid you in fear of making it worse. Changes in your skin should be taking place now, veins growing dark as it carries the lethal dosage to the rest of your body. It’s acting slow, Snake Oil realizes. Or maybe it’s a trick of the light, a false concern born from his anxiety about the situation.

It's a tricky situation, one which requires Giorno to act fast and tread carefully.

“I take it you won’t tell me who you are.” Giorno chooses his words with the utmost care despite the shock and anger rolling from his body. Gold Experience Requiem hovers closeby, the same rage thinly veiled beneath the Stand’s imposing and threatening presence. As Giorno’s Stand, GER has always been utterly taken with you, having no need to hide its affections like its user must. He is a pure amalgamation of Giorno’s love for you; the sight of your life endangered is no doubt a blow to its usual composure and restraint. Neither party wants nothing more than to destroy their enemy in an instant, but there’s no guarantee you wouldn't be caught up in the fray.

“You say that as if you remember the names of every person you’ve hurt,” Snake Oil does little to hide his animosity, keeping an eye out for any tricks Giorno may have. “It made no difference who I was before. Not until I threatened your little prisoner, that is.” The Stand sneers, its arm coiled around your neck. Its tail is strung around your lower half, restricting any flailing and movement should the poison’s effect be prolonged.

“What is it that you want?” Ignoring the Stand’s treatment of you, to the best of his ability, Giorno tests the waters. Every word the Stand speaks is funneled into his mind, searching for hints that can be taken advantage of, for any cracks that can be slipped through. The top priority is to get to you out of harm’s way, no matter the cost. Composure on either end is unfaltering, a duel of wits to secure a victor. This is a matter of life and death. And still, Giorno hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t expected to see your body, your skin pallid and your limbs motionless, cradled in the arms of a man who intends you harm. His composure falters at the mere sight. That Stand isn’t just holding you; he’s holding Giorno’s happiness, his future, his heart in a vice grip. He sees the way your eyebrows knit and your body winces, the Stand’s grip far too tight to insinuate any goal other than to kill.

Snake Oil only smiles in response, not yet wanting to ruin this moment of pure distress radiating from the Don and his Stand. The sight itself is rapturing; it’s not everyday that a lowly civilian such as himself gets to see one of the most influential men in the world come apart.

Unabashed, Giorno considers what information is presented to him. From how this Stand speaks, its user is older, if not a bit inexperienced. No slang or other terminologies from a younger generation are present in his words, it’s far more removed and bitter. As if the user has seen the worst the world has to offer, callous in his direct approach; as if the user is betting everything on the line for a small chance at attacking the Don of Passione.

He needs to get you out of the Stand’s range. Since the Stand didn’t attack him, the main source of his user’s ire no doubt, it’s likely a long-range Stand. Any suspicious movements will lead to your death. And, from a quick look around, there are no suspicious vessels within a 10 km radius of the island; he would have seen them approaching long before, had there been. Its user must be far, and the Stand must be operating at its maximum range. Engaging in close-range combat would be the best bet if you weren’t engulfed in the Stand’s arms, its poison already blackening the veins around the entrance wound. Killing it might prove to be the only antidote, but on the other hand, it’s a risky trade. Perhaps the Stand’s power doesn’t include producing an antivenom — killing it early would slash any chances of saving you before the poison spreads further into your system. The only option for Giorno now is to provoke him, upsetting the Stand to the point where a mistake is made. In that opening, Giorno will strike.

“It must’ve been a lot of work to make it here,” Giorno begins his plan with a cautious comment, searching for any outward reaction. Nothing. Assuming he’s safe to continue, he offers his observations. “If you have any demand, make them known now.”

It’s not so much stalling, but rather, testing the waters. To see how much resistance he can offer without you being placed in any more danger, igniting sparks that will only gain strength with time. Each word is selected with great care, not wanting to further upset the emotional user and trigger an undesirable outcome. Under the face of immense pressure, Giorno steels himself. It’ll do you no good otherwise.

The Stand lets out a distorted chuckle, its grip on you unwavering. “Demands? Of course, someone in your line of work would naturally come to that conclusion. You think I’d go this far for power? Money? Drugs?”

Giorno’s eyes narrow, and he mentally checks off one motive.

“There’s nothing then? No affiliation, no desire for material gain?” Giorno’s incessant line of questions come to a halt when the Stand tightens its grip around you. Sensing that Snake Oil’s growing irate, Giorno can only assume it’s because this encounter isn’t going as planned. Given how frail you are, the poison should have spread to major points in your nervous system, your death imminent. While Giorno has his theories, ones he can only hope to be true at this very moment, they’re placed on the back burner for the time being.

“How could I forget? That’s all that matters to people like you.” The Stand’s tone is low, prudent. Giorno’s interrogation is getting somewhere, it seems. The Stand’s grip on your shoulders have loosened slightly, only to retighten within a moment’s notice. Giorno’s heart tightens in response, the unpleasant feeling not showing on his face in the slightest. “Gain. How to make more at the expense of others, a greed that cannot be sated no matter whose life is taken in the process.”

Ah. Perhaps...

“You say that like nothing could satisfy you.” The tempest unfolding in Giorno’s mind begins to calm. His answers lie at the eye of the storm, waiting to be found. It’s an easy enough feat for someone of Giorno’s caliber, as his job requires quick-witted thinking and observation. So he presses forward, his words more daring, his answers more confident.

The Stand can’t help but grimly agree, darkness spreading over its inhuman face upon realizing how unaffected the don is. “Nothing can.”

It’s brief, but Giorno catches a glint of sadness cross the Stand’s features. A trick of the light, perhaps, as he’s yet to see any Stand capable of showing emotion; and yet, this one reeks of resentment and regret. He’s closer to his answer.

“Not even her death?”

“It’s a place to start.” The Stand hisses in a displeased tone. This isn’t how he envisioned this encounter in his mind, the countless outcomes that all ended with Giorno Giovanna in the pits of despair. He should have known better; the Don of Passione is cruel. A monster who wouldn’t be phased even by the loss of his beloved. Still… an element of unknown is always present in Stand battles. Your immediate death should’ve been carried out by now. That’s how it was meant to be; the venom is fast acting on normal people, only slightly less-so on stand users. He draws bated breath and lets his expectant gaze flicker toward you. The moment you breathed your last, Snake Oil would have true satisfaction, witnessing Giorno lose everything he holds dear, just as he had all those years ago. Ultimately, he’d be killed for his transgressions. But he’d come to terms with that long ago, the final chapter of his life ending in Giorno’s grief. The ultimate satisfaction, even if it sends him to Hell. Even if it keeps him from his family.

But your face is pristine, calm despite the painful wound on your neck and the quickly blackening vessels under your skin. You… you’ve stolen that opportunity from him. Why won’t you just die already, like you’re meant to? Why can’t you die as quickly as his own family died before him? It can’t be due to Giorno’s Stand. If you were within Gold Experience Requiem’s range, that meant Snake Oil would be as well. The battle would be hardly fought, the Stand’s sacrifices for nothing. If that were the case, Giorno wouldn’t be watching from afar, the great Don of Pasione helpless to save his own beloved.

Something is wrong.

He can’t let it be for naught. Not after all the sacrifice, after all the hellish years that plagued him. Even now, Giorno waits patiently, an air of dignitary grace and poise befitting someone of his position. His eyes never once stray from the Stand’s physique, not even to check on his beloved, presumably searching for an opening to end the Stand’s life. There’s no chance to give it more thought. The power the Stand wanted to hold in this moment is faltering, slipping between his fingers like fine sand.

“How long ago was it that I took something from you?”

He’s going out on a limb, an educated guess more than anything else. He almost feels pathetic, betting your life like this, as if you’re another bargaining chip in Passione’s plans, another expendable pawn. But there’s no other option in his sights, his thoughts filled with saving the light of his life from the darkness of his own past.

There’s no longer an immediate response from the Stand, nor a sarcastic quip full of loathing. It felt like the most logical explanation, revenge being the greatest motivator known to man. Giorno knows he made the correct assumption, or something close to it, considering Snake Oil’s change in attitude. Did the Stand think Giorno would remain in the dark until the end?

“What… what do you mean?”

Hesitation.

Giorno’s lips twitch into a small, satisfactory smile, his nerves having earned some rest upon guessing correctly. He continues, this time with a barrage of thinly-veiled accusations rather than questions. “It must’ve been longer than a few months, with how much planning this would’ve taken. So when was it? A year, two maybe?”

The most drastic changes were made within Passione during the first six months of Giorno taking over.

“Why does the time even matter?” He bites. “All the people you’ve killed, they’re nothing but faceless names on a list to you.”

Giorno wants to laugh; for someone so bent on killing him, he took the bait far too easily.

“While that holds some merit, you’re no better in that regard.” He begins, shaking his head and shifting his weight onto the other foot, looking awfully lax despite the context of this conversation. He takes note of the way Snake Oil’s fingers twitch with arrogant annoyance. “Wanting to involve an innocent life who has nothing to do with this, you don’t know the first thing about her.”

“You’re wrong. I know plenty about this girl who had the misfortune of meeting you,” Snake Oil’s blank eyes flicker towards your incapacitated form. You look more like a helpless pup than the wife to a mafia boss; perhaps… perhaps that’s why he chose you. For your vulnerability, for your innocence. “Not that you made it easy. Having virtually every aspect of her existence wiped from the planet, going so far as to pay off police to end their missing person search… scum never has hopes of growing, do they?”

Giorno has no reason to justify his thoughts to a stranger who intruded on your paradise and put your life in peril, no matter what injustices he might have caused the man in the past. Only for the motive of provoking him further does he respond. “For the sake of protecting her from those who’d do her harm.” He quips, his expression unchanging.

“Is that what helps you sleep at night, Giovanna? A pat on the back for kidnapping some girl from her life, taking away all her freedoms? Letting her family search and search, only to be fed lies that there are no leads, that the case has gone cold?” Snake Oil’s grip on you falters slightly, a wave of pity washing over him at your poor predicament. How unfortunate you are to have earned the attention of a demon… “You don’t know the first thing about losing someone precious to you, do you? What you’re doing to her isn’t protection. This is greed, meant only to benefit yourself,” the Stand accuses. “Considering how greedy you lot are, I’m surprised it hasn’t occurred to you that, if it weren’t for your manipulation, she would’ve slit your throat weeks ago.”

Giorno is wholly unfazed; he has been called worse, by you even. Nothing the Stand says or will say could come close to the unfiltered hatred he’s heard from you. “Believe what you want, Snake Oil. It makes no difference to me.”

“... So it doesn’t. I suppose labels hold no significance in your life — you’ve come to terms with what you really are. You're a fool, thinking someone like yourself is capable of love. A murderer can experience no such thing.”

“And that’s what I am to you,” Giorno deduces, scouring the Stand’s mannerisms for any clues that may be of use. “A murderer.”

“It’s not what you are to me. It’s an undeniable fact.”

Giorno doesn’t give him the luxury of a response nor the slightest change in his own expression. His stare is blank, even with your life on the line, even when you hang uselessly from the enemy’s arms. The venom is spreading, creating a thick, void-like trail along the paths of each vein it reaches. Starting from the entrance wound in your neck, your blackening veins look like tendrils, crawling up your face and down your chest — toward your brain, your heart. So that is his Stand power...

“Does she know, Giovanna?” Snake Oil hisses, handling your unconscious body harshly. Giorno bites down on his bottom lip at the mere sight, composing himself; now is not the time to strike, not over something so trivial. If that were the case, he would have used Gold Experience Requiem the moment this enemy laid a single finger on your person. Snake Oil barks out more questions, clarifying himself. “Does she know who you truly are beneath that mask?”

Giorno returns his gaze to his enemy, the look in his eyes hardening considerably as he chews on the question. Is that his motive? To use you as a bargaining chip, a means to lower his guard far enough to strike? It’s clever, if nothing else, but Giorno is poised in the art of manipulation. The chaos unraveling in his head, jumping from conclusion to conclusion over your current state — even that is pushed to the far reaches of his consciousness. Lashing out will do the Don no good. It’s a strength right now more than anything, the ability to stuff his own emotions and humanity into the recesses of his mind. Considering how emotional this Stand and its user must be to find a remote, isolated island and its sole inhabitant — regardless of Passione’s extensive influence over the territory — this man has a personal vendetta against Giorno himself.

But he should have never involved you.

Occupied with their back and forth, the pair of men fail to take notice of how your finger twitches by your side. The movement is subtle, easy to miss; even Giorno is too caught up in the situation to pay you any mind for once. The slightest movements of your incapacitated body are the least of his concerns, right now, his mind filled with one thought: you haven’t awoken. You are dying, and that is far more than Giorno can take.

“She doesn’t need to know.”

The Don smiles sardonically. Gone is the ray of light that usually graces his features when he sets foot on this island, when his gaze lands on you. This man keeps speaking of you as if he knows you. If you were awake right now, you’d be easily swayed, your thoughts a mess and your mind easily malleable. This could ruin everything, everything he’s built here, everything he’s built for you, with you. You won’t look at him the same. Not like this morning. Not even like the weeks before, spent in harrowing isolation, flinching at his very presence. You’ll look at him like you would a monster; horrified.

But you aren’t awake. You are on the brink of death and he’s made next to no progress in your rescue. What a pitiful excuse he is. For all his power and influence, he can’t even protect you. He can’t even protect the very thing keeping him alive, the only person that showed a semblance of genuine love for him, even if it was hidden behind a hesitant and doubtful countenance. He was making progress. You were making progress.

“I am a murderer, as all gangsters are, but my reasons are just. I don’t need to explain them to someone such as yourself.” He laughs blithely. “Who did I kill that was so important to you?” He asks the same way one would ask for the time.

Snake Oil doesn’t answer.

“For you to come here, you must believe their death to be unjust. Who was it?” Giorno dwells on the thought for a second, deducing that these unknown variables must be closely related to this Stand’s user. “I can hardly recall their names, much less their faces. That begs the question: what did they do?” His smile grows, one-sided, as if knowing something his enemy does not. “I wonder… was it human trafficking? Narcotics?”

His only response is a glare, the Stand’s arm tightening around your neck like a noose. But, the Don head only cants to the side, testing the waters further.

“No matter. If I wasted time doing so myself, they must have deserved to die.”

It’s spoken like an irrefutable fact. An ultimate dismissal of human life, of their own autonomy. An insult to the memory of those Snake Oil held dearest. The words aren’t only indifferent, but spoken with implicit confidence. In the recesses of his mind, he knows what it is Giorno is trying to do. Rationale is snuffed out, replaced with righteous fury.

“You… you don’t deserve to speak of them. You know nothing.”

“Do I now?” The Don’s body relaxes, now knowing what the Stand is after. The investigation falls; the interrogation begins. “Ah, I remember.” His lips twitch into a cruel smile, enjoying the act of playing with this enemy’s feelings. To be ruled by one’s feelings, to the point of enacting revenge on a man you haven’t a chance of winning against — this Stand and its user wouldn’t make it in the world of gangsters for much longer. “A wife, and a….son was it? That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? For revenge.” He tests the waters with a contemplative tone despite already knowing the answer, the Stand’s body language holding a tension and enmity it hadn’t moments before. “I don’t recall their faces or names, really, but I remember their screams. Your wife was groveling at my feet, begging for mercy. She had this look in her eyes — betrayal. You didn’t tell her your true profession, did you?” The Don’s lips twitch when Snake Oil falters, the latter’s eyes wide. “And your son… a prominent member in the very drug routes Passione aims to quell. I remember he tried to bargain with me, sell you out in exchange for my mercy.” Giorno laughs at the irony. To not even be trusted by your own family… “Like father, like son. He deserved to die.”

Snake Oil draws a sharp breath.

“And your daughter… such a sweet little thing. She didn’t understand what was happening.” He recalls with faint disinterest. “The look on her face was so tragic. I almost felt sorry for her. But she is related to you by blood, and scum can only breed scum.” An idea formulates, the words pressed past his lips as easily as breathing. “It’s a pity, though. She got away before I could…” He trails off, relishing in the way Snake Oil chokes pathetically on this information; his daughter… his only family is alive, somewhere, and... “I suppose I'll have to find her, take care of what I started." Giorno finishes.

“Shut up!” In his anger, Snake Oil’s grip tightens around your neck, squeezing at your already-suffocated veins. Giorno’s eyes flicker, taking note of the blackening nerves beneath your skin. “Don’t forget who’s in control here, Giovanna…!”

It’s all talk meant to rile him up, create an exploitable opening. Snake Oil refuses to fall into the trap, a ploy meant to keep him from enacting revenge. The words are heavy, a weight over his shoulders, but the Stand has you. While you should be dead by now from his ability, there are other ways to kill. Messier methods that he didn’t wish to stoop to, not until now. Giorno Giovanna, in all his sadistic glory, has dug a grave for his own beloved; an end truly befitting a monster such as himself.

“The pain I felt that day… you get to experience it now. You’ll pay for your sins in blood,” the Stand sneers, its expression full of countless years of pain. His gaze turns toward your unconscious body, his mind already concocting plans of a painful death. “Her blood.”

"You view me as a demon, but do you have the resolve to stoop to my level?" Giorno quips, his resolve quickly running thin. The air is tense, suffocating, but he can’t let his mask falter. It would mean the end to this. An end to you. An end to this paradise, this false Eden.

He’s not ready for that. Not yet. Not when you were finally...

“So sure of yourself, so confident…” Every word drips with malice, forced out from a dark place. Every syllable is a shot to Giorno’s heart, to his willpower, Snake Oil feels his goals shift, wanting nothing more than to prove Giorno wrong. That not everything can fall into place as he sees fit, that he isn’t as omnipresent as he believes himself to be. To see those calculating eyes widen in horror, knowing that he made a grave error.

It’s wishful thinking. Nothing in this world is that simple. If it were, Snake Oil’s family would still be by his side,and he wouldn’t be here, threatening an innocent girl with the displeasure of being involved with the worst scum society has to offer. He wouldn’t have had to stoop to the levels he did, likely disappointing those he cared for in the distant past. He wouldn’t have to stoop to Giovanna’s level and kill a blameless soul.

Monsters can only breed monsters.

Should the poison fail, so be it. It’s a messier death, a far less merciful one, but Snake Oil no longer has the capacity to care. How could he, after being taunted, when it was Giorno who was meant to be cowering away in anguish? The Stand’s grip around your limp body strengthens, intent on strangling out all signs of life. This is it, the final act of dishonor to end it all. Within a few seconds, you should be reduced to nothing but a corpse, a shadow of your former self, that sadistic light in Giovanna’s eyes long gone.

Time is at a standstill. It all happens in the blink of an eye.

At his torso, there’s a forceful shove that sends him sprawling backwards, air knocked from his lungs. Snake Oil lets out a shocked gasp, noticing the surprise on Giovanna’s own face; it’s clear he wasn’t expecting this turn of events, either. This attack… it couldn’t have been him. So that means you’re…

Before Snake Oil can dwell on his revelation, Gold Experience Requiem phases into the Stand’s field of vision, its speed unmatched and its strength beyond anything he’d prepared himself for. He knew death was coming should he mess up, should he let that monster creep under his skin. And yet, it still ends like this, a hole driven into his chest, just as it was meant to be. The pain is nothing new. The loss of everyone he’d ever cared about hurt far worse, but this… this is comforting. A release, a mercy. A promise that he will soon see his family, again.

The gentle wave that washes over him is short lived; the blow had sent him flying, his back pierced by a nearby rock. There’s pain, briefly, before it washes away all the same. Washes away into nothing. Death, he’s come to realize, feels like nothing, and yet everything all at once. Even death has a heart, it seems, a vague sense of clemency and calm that life lacks. All the memories of a time long past, all the regret and the pleasure that comes with living. Sweet memories, bitter memories… memories of his family, killed at the hands of a man who acts like a God dictating who should live and who should die. A God who slaughters innocents, under a false moral code. A God who locks away his own lover, as if her life means nothing; a God who looks at her the same way the stars admire the sun.

And yet, in Snake Oil’s last moments, that same God looks down at him the same way one would a fly before you kill it. The same insignificance, the same detachment. Like he meant never meant anything of value. And he realizes...

Death does not discriminate; life does.

Giorno gazes at the dying man with a look of vague disinterest, a sight he’s grown accustomed to. There’s no anger, no pity, no emotion. Those were stolen the moment your eyes snapped shut and your blood started rotting. Snake Oil will find no satisfaction in this squandered death, his life squelched out and amounting to nothing.

“Go to Hell. They’re waiting.”

The words fall from his lips so easily, so listlessly, without a shred of remorse. Snake Oil’s last moments are far from peaceful, those precious moments prior having lulled him into a false sense of security. They? Who are they? The Devil? His enemies? Or….

Realization hits. His blood has started to clot, and yet it boils with anger with indignant realization: he will go to Hell for his sins. He will go to Hell, and his family won’t be there. A sinner has no right of choice, only a punishment and its executioner. Even in these last moments, he’d hoped Giovanna would grant him the mercy of solace, the sympathy of a human rather than the malevolence of a monster. But that hope was misplaced from the start.

“Y...y-you’re a…. dem—”

But it’s too late. Snake Oil worked with diligence, but the devil works faster.

The storm has passed. The corpse, in its final moments, is gagging on thin air and it occurs to Giorno that its user is dying. Gagging on his own bile and vomit someplace far off, someplace Giorno can’t reach in his current state. If your life wasn’t in immediate danger, he’d hunt for the bastard himself, ensuring that his life has come to a permanent end. But you are more important. You will always be more important.

When he turns, he expects the worst. He expects to see your skin sallowed and your face sunken. He expects to see a lifeless husk, a goddess without the glow he’s come to admire. But that light is still there. You are still there, just as radiant as you were before your Eden was corrupted. The rise and fall of your chest is unmistakable, no matter how shallow your breathing may be. You’re alive. You’re alive, and Giorno’s legs nearly give out at the thought. Seeing you this close again, even as you cling to life, feels too good to be true. Giorno’s not sure who to thank, be it fate or having the devil’s own luck, but you’re still here. Still with him. This was too close to the chest. Pesky little details will be examined later, to ensure nothing like this ever has the chance to repeat. Security being tightened, loose ends removed… there’s an abundance of work to be done. For now, he allows himself to think only of you.

He’s by your side in an instant, checking your pulse and breathing. Gold Experience takes note of the movement beneath your wrist, pulsing as it should be, yet rapidly dimming. Any flesh wounds he can spot are immediately healed with a featherlight touch, fearing the unattended wounds may harm you further. He holds your limp body to his chest, gently trying to shake you back into consciousness. To bring you back to him.

“Let me see those gorgeous eyes of yours, amore.” His voice is so quiet and weak, it’s drowned out by the ocean waves. “I’ll be here as long as you need me. We need to finish our date, right? There’s still so much we have to do. I’ll clear my schedule, so just open your eyes and...”

He chokes, eyes wide with bitter tears. Your color is paling at an alarming pace, lips becoming a sickly blue. The flower he made earlier now looks out of place against your skin, its vibrant yellow petals so vivid in comparison — mocking you. Giorno chokes on his own spit; there’s no escaping it: you are dying, and he may as well be too. Giorno’s grip on you falters due to his own trembling, forcing him to steady you entirely against his chest. Every breath he takes is laboured, the weight of the world dragging him down. He’s seen this sight too many times before, and in his heart, he knows what this means. Without full knowledge of Snake Oil’s ability, there’s no way to treat whatever wounds were inflicted on you; he can only grasp at ideas from the previous encounter. It’d take hours to find and deliver the proper antivenom, and by then, it’d be too late. He knows this, and he hates himself for it. He hates his knowledge, his experience that allows him to come to this horrific conclusion. Giorno wishes he were a fool so he could delude himself into believing you’ll continue to live with him.

“You said you wanted a frog for a pet, didn’t you…? I’ll make as many as your heart desires, I swear it. So, please…” The words die at the back of his clenching throat. His entire life, he’s told himself that crying is useless. That it achieves nothing, a waste of time and effort. Action is always the best course, the only path that amounts to overcoming grief. It’s been the philosophy of his life, and yet; he kneels here on the verge of tears all the same. “Please, please, please…”

Another shake, more urgent than the last.

“I wanted—” he gulps back a telling lump forming in his throat, “I wanted to do so much with you. Cooking together is just the start, there’s so much more...” His voice is a low whine, like a child begging his parents for their time and affection. It’s a battle against time, a battle that he’s losing. “So much more…” His words are incomprehensible at this point, slipping from his mouth before he can gather himself. “I love you, [First]… I love you, I love you. Please, God…” The words are unschooled, said without thought — genuine. There has never been a moment in his life where he believed God to be real, not after everything he’s seen, not after everyone he’s lost. You can’t be another causality — he can't lose you too.

For the first time since he was a child, Giorno cries.

He cries for everything he put you through, for everything he took from you. Every wish you had, every dream he never got to hear. He stole them like his family stole his own. He promised to be better, a better man — someone who could change the world, someone with a good heart. Growing up, he wanted nothing more than to prove his parents wrong. His step-father, cynical and drunk and good-for-nothing. His mother, neglectful, always chasing a high, as if her own family was the lowest of the low. And his real father, his origins and identity unknown; a man who no doubt would not want to be part of Giorno’s life, his own son’s life. Giorno didn’t want to be like any of them, didn’t want to grow up to become a monster in the shape of a human. That sentiment feels hypocritical right now, having just lost his composure and temper. The remnants of a man’s own soul is not too far off, mangled and destroyed beyond recognition, its user dead on the shores of a monster who stole his family.

Giorno Giovanna is not a good man. His tears are more for you than anyone else; you truly did have the misfortune of meeting him. The Devil could drag him to Hell right now and his last thoughts would still be: “Let her go to Heaven.”

There’s a gradual change.

To the untrained eye, it might be too subtle to pick up on. Almost like a transparent sheen hovering just above your skin, a low hum of energy resonating alongside it. Giorno’s lip twitches as your complexion practically shines, eyes squinting to combat the light's growing strength. Too much is unfolding before him, a complex mystery where he remains in the dark. Snake Oil… he’s certain that Stand is no more. That’s when a chilling realization hits, like a bucket of ice being poured over him.

Gold Experience Requiem remains by his side, the Stand at the ready to attack as Giorno constructs a plan. Could Snake Oil have had a Stand that stays active upon death, like Notorious B.I.G? Giorno freezes at the thought, knowing full well the power a Stand like that would have. Hunting down its target for eternity. Did Snake Oil place an ability on you that triggered after death? In that case, precautions need to be taken to ensure you’re not placed under any further harm. There’s still a chance to save you; even Notorious B.I.G. had its flaws, no matter how terrifyingly powerful the Stand at first seemed.

But… something about it is off. The energy convulsing from you feels different, almost familiar. Warm and enveloping, unlike Snake Oil who conveyed nothing but bitterness and lost hope. What is this…?

The luxury of thinking is replaced by a raw desire to act, to salvage what little remains, not willing to patiently assess the situation any longer. Not after that’s what led to your possible death sentence in the first place. Divine light radiates around your limp body, and Giorno reaches out, prepared to fend off the perceived threat. His trembling hand inches closer to your iridescent skin, tingling at the sensation rolling from your person like a barrier, and then—

He’s flung back against the ground, as Snake Oil was before him. Gold Experience Requiem releases a fierce battle cry, lashing towards the presumed threat that envelopes you. Your person lets out a disgruntled noise at the attack, eyebrows twitching and body regaining itself. Cheeks flushing with color again, long eyelashes fluttering against your face. Rest is a coaxing concept, though something deep inside you commands that you wake.

Your eyes open.

Blood. Your vision is filled with a thick red, the beautiful blues and golds of the beach but a distant memory. The scene before you is a battlefield, its only remnants thick puddles of fresh blood. The liquid mars the beautiful beach sands, crimson revealing a story you weren’t meant to witness. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, dulling various areas that should be screaming out in pain. There’s too much to chew on, your thoughts in complete disarray. Your body feels prickly, vitality making a swift reappearance. And yet, there’s an unfamiliar pain at your chest, where Gold Experience Requiem’s hit landed. It’s dull, as if there is a layer of protection between your skin and the place the Stand’s fist had landed, but the very thought of Giorno hurting you, no matter the circumstance, has your mind reeling.

It doesn’t take long to piece together scattered pieces of the puzzle. In your delirium, you’d heard everything. It evokes disgust and shame, knowing you willingly went along with Giorno’s qualms. You had lost yourself, giving into him for frivolous comforts. He’s harmed too many, you’re not the only person to be on the receiving end of endless pain; you were just lucky enough to be on his good side. Morality and running a worldwide crime syndicate do not go hand and hand, no matter how many times Giorno tries to humanize himself to you. It’s all a facade.

This was all a mistake. You shouldn’t have come here, not so willingly, not with him.

“You’re a monster.”

A fact you’ve known for months now, and yet the words struggle past your teeth. A week ago, you wouldn’t have hesitated to say that and much worse to his face, relishing in the hurt that would momentarily cross his features. You had some semblance of power over him during those moments, using his twisted sense of love against him. You felt powerful, in control for once, having one of the most powerful men in the world grovel in wait for your affection. Before you, he wasn’t Don Giorno Giovanna, boss of Passione. He was just a boy, a psychopath, a man who had taken the world from you and expected your love in return.

You should’ve known it wouldn’t last. He will always have the upper hand, some sort of control or advantage over you. You were a fool to think whatever you two possibly had — a relationship, if you could call it that — could work. Humans aren’t meant to be with monsters, and monsters aren’t meant to fall in love.

You realize that now.

“[First]...” For once, he’s speechless. Even saying that much is difficult. Gradually, he stands from the spot he’d been flung to, wearily making his way toward your crumpled body. His hand reaches out, shaking; were you slipping in and out of consciousness the entire time…? How much did you overhear? How much did you see?

“Don’t come closer!” You blink back tears, your vision focusing and unfocusing in the midst of it all. Your fingers, your hands, your… your body is glowing. The light is faint, weak, like the remnants of a flame before its wick gives out. “I-I… W-what happened? What happened to me?”

The puzzle pieces fall into place in his head. Giorno draws a sharp breath, his thoughts reeling to provide an explanation that won’t frighten you any further. In this state, you’re running on a high, coming down from the power your body has just awakened to. Having just defended yourself against a deadly venom, your body is running on pure adrenaline just to keep yourself upright. Your mind is reeling to rationalize what’s happening. Every nerve in your body felt like they were on fire, burning you up from the inside out. It’s as if you’re being overclocked, forced to work at full capacity, threatening to crash at any moment. Power rolls off your body in waves, as if it was meant to be there, as if it was there all along. And there’s an energy in your veins that feels wholly foreign, simultaneously yours and someone else’s at the same time. The ringing in your head is disorienting beyond compare; it feels as if your mind has been invaded, as if there is something else, someone else in your consciousness.

“What did you do?!” You don’t want to look at him, not in this moment, but the situation leaves you no choice. Your eyes flicker, briefly glowing with unadulterated rage when your gaze meets his. It couldn’t be possible, he couldn’t have… “You… you made me a monster just like you.”

“[First], I can explain everything, but you need to rest or—”

“No. God, I’m such a fool.” Your gut wrenches when you accidentally turn your gaze upon the battered corpse, its body mangled and face unrecognizable. Its heart hangs from its chest; you shudder to think what his human counterpart looks like. His death must have been painful, agonizingly slow — an end befitting a monster more so than a human. And he… he’s surrounded by a sea of blood — your husband is surrounded by a sea of blood.

“How could I forget? W-what you are…” Your eyes are fully glowing, pulsating with a holy energy when they meet his, but the sight is far from terrifying. You’re trembling. You’re crying. You’re pleading with him, just as you had when you first arrived on this island. You’re scared. “W-Will you do the same to me?”

His heart shatters.

Even now, as broken as you may feel, you cannot let yourself fall apart. If you break now, you won’t escape. He won’t let you escape. It will just be worse this time. You’ll always know the truth, the fact that countless lives have bloodied his hands — that he killed in cold blood then looked at you like your life is the only one worth keeping.

“You’ve already taken everything from me. You took my family from me. My friends. My life. My future. How am I any different from them? From any of the people you’ve hurt?” His expression wavers at your endless accusations, but he doesn’t defend himself and you take that as a confession to his sins. “That man was right. Do you remember all of them? All of your victims? All their faces? Their dreams and ambitions?” Air catches in your throat, realizing something the enemy had divulged; your family. They’d been… they’d been lied to, and that revelation does nothing to quell your anger.“What about their families? Are they still looking for them, too?” Your voice cracks, coinciding with your crumbling heart.

That’s right, your family looked for you. They searched for you; they mourned, they were betrayed. They think you’re dead, that you left without saying goodbye — without saying “I love you”. And you were deluded into thinking that everything was going so well, that you could forget, that you could start anew. You were happy, for once, for the first time in what felt like years. As close as you could get to happiness. Finally having set out on a path of healing, recovering pieces of yourself and putting them back together where no one else could. This illusion you allowed yourself to believe dissipates, the fog over your eyes lifting to reveal barren reality. A reality Giorno himself designed and held full control over, like a God, and you his sole obsession. If he is a God, he is cruel. To think otherwise is to be seduced by the enemy.

“You lied to me. You said I was safe here, that I could trust you.” Your voice breaks at that word — trust. What a pretty word, for such awful lies. “You didn’t have to kill him.”

Giorno gathers his senses, his head ringing with your hurtful words, his heart tired. He is losing you all over again; this is the only thing he can defend, as all your other accusations are more or less true. “[First], I had to. He was going to—”

“No. There’s never a good reason to murder, not when you have the power to stop them instead.” Your eyes flicker to Gold Experience Requiem, knowing full well of its powers. Giorno holds his tongue, realizing you’re right. He didn’t have to kill the enemy, not… not in front of you at least. Your eyes are not meant to see bloodshed or pain, and yet, he let his feelings get the better of him — and this is his price. “You didn’t have to, but you did. You killed him, Giorno. You killed him.” You can’t bring yourself to look at the corpse any longer. “That’s what monsters do.”

Each word stings more than the last.

He’s analyzing you. Mentally reciting and testing dozens of different explanations that might serve to placate you, even if it’s a temporary fix. Anything to get that stinging look of repulsion off your beautiful face, anything to make you look at him the way you did earlier. This is far more detrimental than the times you spoke down to him before now that a third party had been involved. The damage is already done, nature of himself that he tried to hide from you now out in the open.

There may be no coming back from this.

“You’ve been through a lot.” Giorno takes one step closer to you, stomach dropping when you flinch at the tentative action. All the progress has been undone, though he can’t mourn that now. He has to keep a straight face, lull you down this high filled with fear and adrenaline. Get under your skin again… make you trust him. “Come, let’s go inside. You must feel tired.”

“No. No, no, no, you liar. You’ve put me through a lot,” you correct with a weak glare, holding your hand to your chest. The same hand that had finally come to accept him just minutes prior. Recalling his touch makes you want to scrub the skin raw, knowing how bloodied they were. “Just… stay away from me, p-please.” Your demands sound more like pleads, the shock of your new abilities still paralyzing your system. Your wings encircle you still, their transparent silhouette coursing with a power you know not what to do with. Their presence alone makes you feel safe, a much needed barrier between you and him. It even withstood a direct attack from Giorno’s own Stand…

The possibility of escaping is becoming frighteningly real.

Giorno withdraws his outstretched hand, not wanting to scare you any further. It’s clear you don’t want to listen to him right now, and he’s not sure he wants to continue persuading you; the trembling of your body, the look on your face, like a frightened doe — you’re scared of him. The same girl that had looked at him with hesitant admiration, that had played with him, that had gotten to know him, that had kissed him — she’s gone, and some deep, hateful part of him knows she won’t ever come back. He’s walking on eggshells again and he knows it. In the terrified state that you’re in, there won’t be any deescalation. You’ve seen too much, know too much. It’s troublesome, too many factors at play to safely talk this out. There’s still the problem of your safety, and monitoring your body for any further repercussions from the earlier Stand attack. Giorno considers all of this, and with a silent sigh, makes a swift decision on how to best fix this. More roadblocks are set in the path of recovery, but he’s determined to see this through. That’s how he’s always been, and how he’ll always be until the day he draws his final breath. You are no exception; you never will be. Not when everything he does is wholly for you.

You realize something is amiss when he doesn’t respond any further to your pointed accusations. Normally, you’d see a flicker of hurt flit across his features — the only time he ever lets his guard down, even slightly, is with you. That’s not the case now, not after everything you’ve heard, everything you’ve seen. Lips parting, you’re about to inquire what it is he’s plotting, but by then it’s far too late. From the blood by your feet, roots start to form at the base, coming to life by Gold Experience Requiem’s ability. An unidentifiable substance leaks from them, sapping away at the remnants of your consciousness like parasites. It acts as a salve, soothing the snake bite on your neck and the skin covering your blackened veins, but its true purpose is far from that, meant to constrain you, to confine you. It’s a terrifying sight, being restrained by vines tainted in the blood of a dead man, being restrained by an entity that had made you gifts and brought you joy only minutes prior.

He’s using his ability on you.

Gold Experience Requiem, an entity that had excitedly made you a crown to place atop your head, looks almost distraught as he covers you from head to toe, confines you like his user has for as long as you can remember. They are one and the same, you realize; how foolish it was to believe this man was capable of anything but tragedy. You had been charmed by pretty lies fashioned to ensnare you for eternity. His words, his actions, everything about him was a lie — a forbidden fruit.

Standing becomes too arduous a task, your body crumpling to the ground in a pathetic show of weakness. The world around you grows blurry, your eyelids fighting to remain open only to lose and sink into the sweet call of sleep. Everything feels so far away. The call of the birds, the crashing of the ocean… even the sand that rubs against your skin doesn’t register. The only thing that does is the look on his face, so unlike the monstrous, dissociated expression he had when he took a man’s life before your eyes. Even that, all the pain, dread, betrayal, it’s all slipping away, to some place you cannot reach. Not anymore. The light that stems from your back flickers, the remnants of your holy wings shattering like fragments of glass. Giorno approaches you as the disorientation continues and your Stand deactivates, having protected you long enough. He wants nothing more than to take its place as your savior, your protector, his arms reaching out to catch and prevent your body from further harm. You’ve been through enough. You were right; he’s put you through enough.

As consciousness fades, you hear the Devil whisper one final promise.

“I’ll fix everything, just give me time.”

317 notes · View notes

putas-in-suffering · 5 years ago

Text

Mermaid

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW 18+ older

Warnings: Language, rough sex (slapping/manhandling), unprotected vaginal sex, mentions of bodily fluids, female ejaculation, some non-con elements, degradation (name calling), Dark/Dom Miguel, think Miguel and Emily’s fucked up vibe in that one scene...you know the one 😏

Word Count: 4.4K

Summary: Part 2. Miguel finds out about your tryst with Bishop and things take a dangerous turn.

A/N: Sucias! We got a present for you! We got Part 2 for our previously published Bishop fic Terms of Endearment. Check it out because it does tie in with this one. Also, it has Bishop smut. This has our Cartel Daddy hella mad and hella ready to destroy the pussy. Prepare yourselves because Miguel ain’t about to take it easy on you. Enjoy and share with your fellow sucias! Feedback is the preferred drug for our addiction and greatly appreciated 💖💖

*Read Part 3 here!

(Gif credit to @angels-reyes)

You flinched again when Miguel slammed his drink down, the sound angry and stern. He’d been in a bad mood since the moment you’d arrived nearly an hour ago. He’d called you earlier today and requested your presence at his home. He said he wanted to talk something over and insisted on having dinner prepared. You’d hesitated, flashes of letting Bishop Losa fuck you in a storage closet racing through your head. You could tell something was weighing heavy on Miguel’s mind, but you’d let it go and acquiesced to meeting him. Before Miguel was your employer, he was your best friend. And as much as you wanted to call it a night, you went anyway.

After the factory, you’d made more rounds, overseeing the operation and reporting back to Miguel via text. Once you’d gotten the stoic invitation for dinner, you’d raced home and showered the Mayans MC president off your skin. You ignored the pull to relive those memories as your fingers grazed your body, halting on the areas that Bishop had gripped so fiercely. There weren’t any visible markings, but you didn’t need to see it to know it had been there. You could still feel it.

You’d redressed for your impromptu dinner in a silk golden dress. The sleeves were long, the waist cinched, the skirt flowing over your hips and stopping around your ankles. There was a slit down the side, breaking up what would be a normally stylish conservative dress. You had yet to wear it. It was a gift from Miguel for your birthday a few months ago. You weren’t sure why you suddenly felt the need to wear it, but you’d be lying if you said guilt had no part in it. What you’d done was reckless and irresponsible, and if Miguel found out…well guilt would be the last thing you’d feel.

Another harsh clang of silverware pulled you from your thoughts. You winced as Miguel took a forceful bite of his steak, chewing with all the intensity of a caged pit bull. Beyond pleasantries, you hadn’t spoken to each other. The air was obviously tense, the mood uncomfortable. Miguel had purposefully made it that way. And you weren’t sure why.

“You look beautiful.”

The words made you pause mid-chew. Your eyes found Miguel’s staring back at you, his gaze somewhat softened but no less intense. He cleared his throat as he wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin, sipping from the amber liquid in his crystal glass.

“Uh, thank you.” You replied dumbly, still caught off guard by his choice in topic.

“The dress I bought you?”

You nodded, watching as he lent back in his seat to appraise you. You shifted awkwardly, feeling something simmering just beneath the surface. The house was empty, the staff dismissed for the night. The space was dimly lit. The reflection of the pool just beyond the glass doors was the only light outside. It should’ve been relaxing, romantic even, but the rigidity of the night was fast bleeding out and all over the white linen cloth that adorned the table.

“I have quite an eye. Fits you perfectly.” He continued on, swishing the whiskey in his glass.

“You do.”

“Why now?” He questioned, brow arched in your direction.

You straightened, the food on your plate long forgotten as you reached for your own glass. You swallowed the bitter liquid, the burn doing little to ease your frayed nerves. You weren’t afraid of Miguel, but you were afraid of the things he could do. You’d seen him at his worst and while you never expected to feel that kind of wrath directed at you, you couldn’t say it was impossible. You’d obviously done something to upset him. And you had an inkling of what that might be.

“Just felt right. Thought you’d like to see it.” You replied with a smile, hoping to convince both him and yourself.

Miguel returned the tight smile with his own, nodding as he adjusted the gold cuff links on his left wrist.

“I’ve known you a long time. Verdad?” He asked, the tone letting you know that it wasn’t a question that really needed an answer.

You did anyway.

“Yes.”

“And just like I’m sure you know me, I know you.”

Again it wasn’t something that needed verification, but you nodded in confirmation.

“I’ve let you run things on your own. I’ve let you manage without my supervision. I’ve entrusted you with delicate matters.”

Your breathing began to escalate with every word he spoke. He was calm, his demeanor almost peaceful as he met your eyes. His lips were quirked into a smirk, but you could see the hard ridge of his jaw beneath the well-groomed facial hair. He was clenching the muscle. And you knew from experience what that meant. He was actively trying to contain himself. Your gaze quickly shifted to his fingers, seeing that he was circling them on the tablecloth. Miguel had tells like everyone else and they were beaming in neon back at you. He was mad, no…livid.

“Miguel, what’s this about?” You dared to ask. You didn’t want to play this game with him. You’d seen it enacted out on many before you, none of it ever ending well for the person opposite Miguel Galindo. But you weren’t just some lowlife. You were his friend, practically his family. How dare he treat you like a traitor? You’d given your life to his business…to him.

“I’m not stupid, sirenita.” He bit back, intentionally using your childhood nickname. He usually said it with affection, but such was not the case this time. He was mocking the title, mocking you.

“And you think I am?” You retorted angrily, done playing nice.

“You must be to have let a man like Bishop Losa fuck you in my factory.” Miguel seethed, leaning across the table so that you could see the veins of his neck protruding from the crisp white collar of his shirt.

You’d been expecting the words, but shock seized you nonetheless. Having Miguel confront you about your sexual exploits made you feel childish and small. He glared at you with such disappointment that you could practically taste the sour flavor in your mouth.

“You must be fucking stupid to forget that I have every inch of that place bugged and under video surveillance. Even the storage closets.”

As much as you tried to fight it, you looked down in shame. He was right. You were stupid. In that moment you’d let lust fuel your decisions. But that didn’t mean that he got to disrespect you and treat you like a common whore. You’d seen plenty of his men come through the ranks and fuck on the job. And while it was a problem, it was also mostly laughed off. Men will be men bullshit. Fuck that.

“Who I fuck is none of your business.”

Miguel laughed, though it was obvious he found no humor in the situation. He scratched at his chin, his eyes darting everywhere except to you.

“You think that’s what this is about?”

“I know it is.” You said as you jutted your chin, no longer allowing him to reprimand you like some teenager.

He startled you by rising from his chair, slowly walking to you with measured steps. He said nothing at first as he perched on the edge of the table beside you, looking down at you. Just how he wanted it. He reached for you chin, but you jerked away. He wasn’t deterred. He repeated the action and this time you let him.

“You let him defile you. Let him make a mockery of me while you laughed. Your loyalty is now in question.” He whispered. His touch was gentle, but his words cut like a knife. And they stung.

You jerked out of his grip, eyes wide with disbelief. Miguel had never talked to you in such a way. He’d never treated you so viciously. He’d always respected you. Always looked out for you. He took care of you, making sure you always had what you needed. He never once made you feel as low as you did in that moment. He may not get his hands dirty anymore, but he didn’t need to. His words were his weapons. They always had been. You’d just never been the one to take the hit before.

“You can’t be serious?” You asked, shaking your head.

He said nothing. The flames of fury began to rage hotter within you as he stared down his nose at you, looking at you in a way that he’d never done before.

“Fuck you.” You gritted out, narrowing your eyes up at him.

His lips lifted into a smirk, his eyes shifting to the neck of your dress. You shivered, feeling his gaze on your cleavage. It didn’t last long, but it was enough to make you react in an unexpected way. Your body felt warm with something other than anger. Your nipples hardened against the dainty fabric of your dress, not a gust of cool air to be found.

“You don’t think what you did was damaging to me? To this operation?” Miguel questioned, the irritation back in his words.

“So because I get fucked, your entire business is at stake? Is that what you’re telling me Miguel? Because it sounds like horseshit.” You stood from your chair and hovered in his face, smelling the alcohol on both of your breaths. “You’re mad because I let Bishop Losa fuck me and not you. This has nothing to do with business. You’re jealous.”

The air was sucked out of the room the moment the words left your mouth. You could see the minute they penetrated Miguel’s armor, see the deep rage making its way to the surface. He was tense and stiff, his eyes unrelenting and unforgiving as they stared straight through you.

You’d crossed a line, yet again. But you weren’t going to back down. You’d never been one to do so and you weren’t going to start now.

“Admit that to yourself, Miguel. Admit that’s what this is about.”

Silence.

He only continued to stare with that same void expression, looking as if he wanted to strangle you. His hands flexed as if testing the idea. You shivered again, though it was far from fear you were experiencing.

“I didn’t think so.” You taunted, a victorious smile making its way to your painted lips. You turned to leave, done with the conversation and your employer. If he wanted to act like a juvenile, then you’d treat him like one.

You made it two steps before a heavy hand gripped your elbow. You yelped at the force of the hold and the momentum used to spin you around. You nearly lost your footing, your heels making it difficult to balance. A pair of arms braced you, but they weren’t about to offer you comfort. They tightened around your midsection as they hauled you against the wall. Your head slammed with a brutal thud and you winced at the pain that radiated from your skull.

“Look at me.”

You forced your eyes open, meeting Miguel’s cold, murderous orbs. His fingertips dug into your upper arms while his chest heaved against yours with raggedy breaths. You matched his breathing, the fear most definitely taking hold now.

“You’ve forgotten who you work for…who owns you. I make the rules. I tell you when and where. I make you who you are. Me entiendes?” He didn’t wait for a response. “If I had known you’d rather whore yourself out I would’ve had you on your knees years ago.”

The slap echoed throughout the empty house. Your palm stung, the force of your strike still radiating through your arm. Miguel’s cheek was red, but he showed no other visible sign of being struck. His grip was still iron-clad on you, his breathing still rapid and manic.

“Go fuck yourself.” You snarled as you pushed against his chest, attempting to escape his clutches. He didn’t relent. You punched him, hitting him square in the jaw like he’d taught you years before. He released you instantly, cradling his face. You took the chance and ran for the door, but your dress and heels made it difficult to get any sort of real traction. Loud, foreboding footsteps boomed behind you as he caught up. He struck out and made contact with your arm, once again ensnaring you in his hold. You fought back this time, putting up a fight as he struggled to subdue you.

Another slap. Only this time it was you who was clutching their cheek.

“You fucking bastard.”

You charged at him, fists clenched and ready to damage his perfectly etched face. He reacted instantly, reaching for the back of your neck while he held your wrists together in the other. He was close. The both of you breathing in the other’s air. There was barely a sliver of space between your lips as you dared the other to make a move. You could feel the distinct outline of him against your stomach. He was hard. The notion should’ve sickened you. Little did he know, you’d been wet from the moment he’d called you a whore.

“If I wanted you, I could have you. Remember…I own you. Always have.” He declared cockily, eyes roaming your face, searching for any indication that you wanted him to put a stop to this.

You wouldn’t.

“I don’t belong to anyone. Least of all you.”

He licked his lips, a dot of blood already pooling to the surface where you’d hit him. The sight satisfied you.

“I feed you. I cloth you. I’ve made you everything that you are, sirenita. A whore playing dress up.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond before he locked his lips against yours in a brutal kiss. You struggled against him, unwilling to surrender. You slipped against the marble floors as he backed you against one of the columns, pinning your body against his own. His lips attacked you, teeth gnashing and tongue probing for entrance. His beard scratched at your skin and left a sting in its wake. You realized he’d let go of your wrists. Your hands were tangled in his shirt. You’d meant to push him away, but you’d pulled him closer instead. Your nails dug into his pectorals until you were rewarded with a sharp hiss. He bit your lip in retaliation, the taste of iron landing on your tongue.

His hands ripped at your dress, the slit now torn wide to reveal the black lace you wore underneath. The neck of your dress fell open to expose your braless breasts to his assault. He wasted no time in taking a pebbled nipple into his mouth, sucking so hard that you whimpered and jerked away. You tugged at the roots of his thick hair, pulling him from your chest. He was still bent down, his neck craned so that he had to look up at you. You admired the change in position, feeling a rush of desire at the sight of him hungry and dazed for you.

You took the opportunity to switch positions, swinging him around so that he was now trapped between you and the wall. Your hands went to the buckle of his belt and began to release him from the confines of his designer slacks. Your mouth watered as his cock sprang forward. It was thick and heavy; hot and throbbing in time with your pulse. You made sure he kept his eyes on you as you licked your palm, coating it in saliva. He clenched his jaw as he watched you, releasing a strangled moan when you wrapped your hand around him. He began to succumb to you, his body overwrought with the need to release.

“Who’s the whore now?” You provoked, tightening your hand around him. He cursed and thrust his hips in response, but he was far from letting you win.

He grasped your chin, bringing your face so close to his that you could see the outline of his blown wide pupils against the near black of his irises.

“I’m going to fill that mouth so full of cum that you’ll be tasting me for a fucking week.”

You swallowed and clenched your thighs, his words making your walls contract in tantalizing tremors. You wanted that. You wanted all of that and more.

“You can deny it all you want, but I know…I’ve always known. That pussy is mine. It belongs to the Galindo cartel.” His hand wandered down and over your breasts, sweeping under the band of lace that concealed you from view. He found your clit and teased it, encouraging the overflow of your arousal that was sure to come. “And it gets wet at the thought of me fucking you until you can’t walk. Right?”

You bit your lip and gasped as he entered you, massaging the wet heat of your walls with expert precision.

“Answer me.” He demanded, finger sliding further into your depths.

“Fuck you.”

You were working hard to keep the effect of his touch off your face. You remained impassive and cold, but the further he explored, the closer he brought you to that proverbial edge.

“Oh, you will…”

In a flash, you were hauled into his arms and pushed into the wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively. He ripped at your panties with one hand, the ruined fabric falling away from your body to land in a heap on the floor. The lace had rubbed harshly at your skin as he tore it away, but the feeling was eclipsed by the harsh thrust of his cock into your unsuspecting body. The action caught you off guard, pulling a breathless curse from your lips. Your body tightened and twisted around him and his cock, trying to accommodate the intruder.

“I knew you’d be tight.” He confessed into your neck as he began to thrust. His hips met yours in a ruthless pattern, merciless and cruel. You could only hold on as he took from you, pushing so deep that he hit the natural barrier within you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” You chanted as every line and ridge of his cock grazed beautifully so against your walls. Your spine twisted in both pain and pleasure, lights already dancing behind your lids. You tangled your fingers into his hair, scraping your nails against his scalp. He shuddered, the sensation traveling through his body and into your own.

He moved a second later, carrying you from the wall to the table you’d both been seated at only moments before. His motions were fast and unhinged, uncaring for you comfort as he slipped from your grasp. You both hissed, but didn’t have a chance to relish the emptiness as he turned you around, arching your ass into position.

“Bend over.”

You practically fell face first into the table as he pushed your head down. Your arms caught you just in time as you spread your legs and welcomed him between them. He shoved your dress up and landed a sharp slap to your right ass cheek, the sting reverberating through your lower half. You flinched and threw him a withering glare over your shoulder. His hands spread you, his cock nestled between your folds as he readied to enter you once again. Your thighs were slick, your walls now primed enough for him to slide uninhibited. He was taking without asking, without remorse, and you ate it up, daring him to give you more.

You moaned at the same time he grunted, his cock now back inside of you. You squeezed your eyes shut against the onslaught of euphoria, feeling the web of climax begin to weave itself around you. You pulled at the tablecloth beneath you as Miguel thrust deep, his hips flush with yours as he penetrated your fucking soul. You could feel his eyes burning into you, no doubt taking extreme pleasure in seeing you be such a slut for his cock.

“Are you going to cum?” He ground out, hands still holding your ass apart to watch.

“Yes…”

“Do it now.”

You whined as he began assailing your clit with his finger, rubbing so hard that you felt your eyes cross in your skull. The feeling was foreign, more powerful and unexplored. You shied away from it, unwilling to let go.

“Don’t fight it.” Miguel ordered, feeling your body flinch away. He only went faster and harder, intent on making you come undone.

You had no choice. You gave yourself over to it, letting him pull your orgasm from the depths and send it to the surface. You readied for the inevitable and cried out when your body began to convulse. You were only mildly aware of the gush of liquid that left your body as you were flung into space and launched into a chamber of weightlessness. Miguel’s praises and groans tickled your skin as he bathed himself in your release. He pulled his cock from your depths and let you soak him as he watched in rapt fascination.

“Fuck, just like that…” He said in awe, his cock once again sliding along your folds as your pussy continued to contract against him.

Your face was pressed into the table, your ass still in the air and presented like some kind of prize. You panted with exertion as your limbs became lethargic and sated with the buzz of desire. It felt like an hour had passed, but in reality it’d only been seconds.

You were flipped onto your back, the whiplash making you dizzy. Plates and glasses toppled to the pristine floor as Miguel pried your legs open and resumed fucking you with wild abandon. Your eyes rolled and your toes curled as he fucked you through your post-coitus high. You were moving with every brute thrust, your body shifting up the table. You caressed your breasts as he looked on, growling in approval. His hair was tousled, his lip bleeding with his shirt untucked and pants undone. He’d never looked sexier.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.” He breathed as he doubled his efforts. He ravaged your body with a new ferocious energy, pulling away when the feeling became too much. He wrapped his hand around himself and pulled at your ankle with the other. “On your knees.”

You nearly slid off the table, your heels barely touching the ground before he was pushing you to kneel. You did as he wanted, meeting his devious stare with a bat of your lashes.

“Open your mouth.”

You complied, sticking out your tongue as he jerked himself off. The head of his cock released streams of thick, white cum seamlessly onto your awaiting tongue. He aimed it perfectly, ensuring it all ended up in your mouth and nowhere else. You could feel it already sliding down your throat as you waited for him to finish.

“Swallow it.”

He held your chin, keeping your mouth closed and running his thumb over your lips. You obeyed and swallowed down every drop, savoring the decadence. He looked down at you with a worshipful eye, an expression that was usually reserved for your professional accomplishments. You relished it, just as you did all the times before.

Miguel tucked himself back into his pants and then reached a hand out to you. You accepted his help and stood, albeit on shaky legs. You clutched the front of your dress together, the thing nearly shredded on your frame. You waited for him to say something, but he only turned and walked to the kitchen counter where his phone sat. He picked it up and walked back to you, his attention focused on the digital screen at his fingertips.

“I know everything that happens within my operation. Sometimes people have to be reminded.” He was back to being calm, not an ounce of irritation left on his handsome features. “I’ve done that with you. And now I’ll do that with Bishop.”

Your blood ran cold when he showed you the screen of his phone. Footage of what just transpired between you two played out, a security timestamp at the bottom of the screen making you aware that this was the real deal. Every moment, every obscene action and insult was captured for anyone to see. Humiliation rushed through you.

“I’m the only one that has access to this. But by tomorrow morning Bishop Losa will receive a clip of this footage. A message that he’s touched what’s mine and to never do so again.”

He shoved his phone into his pocket and stepped towards you. You remained unmoving, no energy left to fight with Goliath. He caressed your cheek gently, the patronizing tone now back in his voice.

“This is part of your punishment. Take it like I know you can. Okay?” He prompted. His gentleness was soothing, but a farce. He’d made his point and now you had to fall in line. You were just a solider, taking orders from the commander. And he was reminding you of that.

“Sirenita,” He called, the affection that’d been missing the last time he’d used the name now unmistakable.

You met his eyes. They were back to the mahogany color you’d grown to love. The darkness no longer shrouding him. He cradled your cheek, noting the way you winced when he touched the still tender flesh.

“Say okay.”

“Okay.” You finally replied, defeat coating the word.

“I’ll get this cleaned up tomorrow.” He gestured to the mess behind you, the dining table looking as if a bull raged through. “It’s late. Go upstairs and shower. I’ll be up in a bit.”

You went to refuse, but he stopped you with a kiss. You responded back eagerly, tangling your tongue with his and letting him taste himself. By the time he pulled away, you were both breathing heavily, hearts beating wildly.

“Things are going to be different. You’ll be with me for a while. No more solo missions.”

You tried not to let the disappointment show at his words. You were being demoted. From right hand to whore. You now belonged to Miguel in the one way you said you never would. You’d refused him for so long because you knew the power he held over you…knew the type of life he could give you. It’d be everything you’d wanted and more. Addicting. Luxurious. Lawless. You’d get so lost in him that you’d lose yourself. You knew it. But you’d made a mistake and you had to repent. And you’d do so willingly.

You’d go from whore to housewife in an instant. You’d be his Queen before long…back to running things. Only this time you’d do so with your legs wide and your mouth open. If Miguel wanted a cartel whore, then he’d get one.

#miguel galindo #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo x you #miguel galindo imagine #miguel galindo fanfiction #miguel galindo fanfic #mayans mc

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moon-riverandme · 4 years ago

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And in the Beginning There was... Light, Film Rolls, and Controversy.

Watching old movies has always been one of my favorite pastimes. I love the cracks in the film, the oddly tinted placements of color, the quick, scattered movements of the actors, and the slice of an intertitle. It all just makes sense when I think of those first filmmakers who were trying to make sense of their new medium. In my journey through film, I will start at the beginning. Well, sort of the beginning. Our main topic of discussion takes place in 1903. So we’ve skipped over a few years… 15 to be exact. I’ll sum them up now because if I miss a beat I’ll ruin the scene.

Let's start in October of 1888 when Louis Le Prince has just recorded the very first film. It’s short yet scenic; his family gathers in a garden and for the first time ever - they move. A man walks across the screen, the rigid bustles and day dress of two women sway as they turn away from the camera - ergo we have a moving image years before Edison would invent the kinetoscope. Of course, most don’t know of Le Prince and in school I never heard his name mentioned. In fact, I only heard of him through a Buzzfeed Unsolved video. So what happened? Why did history remember the names Edison and Lumière but not Le Prince?

There were many entries in the race to create the first film. And of course, there are arguments as to what cinema is in comparison to a bunch of still photographs played one after another. Strange, I think is this argument. For film is a series of stills or frames played one right after the other. Nevertheless, in 1878, we have the famous images of a galloping horse caught by twelve cameras set up by Muybridge to capture motion and to study animal locomotion. Motion but not a movie. What we needed was a camera that had a single lens capable of capturing a point of view. That’s what Le Prince did. Unfortunately, as history would see it, he mysteriously disappeared on a train to Paris in September 1890 right before his first public screening in New York carrying luggage that contained all of his work. Neither Le Prince or the luggage has ever been found. Quite the coincidence.

There are a few theories: Le Prince committing suicide, Le Prince’s own brother killing him, Le Prince fleeing due to his sexuality being outed but none have stuck... except one. Le Prince’s widow, Lizzie, believed Edison, his biggest competitor in the race, had him assassinated. The evidence? The discovery of Edison’s journal containing the following entry, which has been proven authentic. It read:

“Eric called me today from Dijon. It has been done. Prince is no more. This is good news but I flinched when he told me. Murder is not my thing. I'm an inventor and my inventions for moving images can now move forward.”

Take of that what you will.

Today, we are taught that Edison’s kinetoscope launched the novel medium of moving pictures into our familiar. When it was invented in 1891 by Edison and Dickson, the kinetoscope was a peepshow-like device with a "sight opening" on top that one viewer at a time could look into and watch a moving picture. Think about it like looking into a microscope - very different from how we view films now both in method and price, it was 50 cents for access to all films at a given venue.

In 1897, an improvement on Edison's device arose. Invented by the Lumière brothers, the cinematograph contained both a camera, projector, and hand crank. Now, audiences could sit and screen films. I'll circle back to Edison as he connects to our 1903 topic. But first, let's take a stop with the Lumière brothers.

Auguste and Louis Lumière are credited as the first filmmakers. Their documentary-esque films Workers Leaving The Lumière Factory and Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat are milestones in cinema. Known as travelogues or actualités, they showed the casual and working life of people in the mid to late 1890's. These shorts were even screened to audiences who jumped out of their seats at a train onscreen because they thought it would actually hit them. The Lumière Brothers took their screening all over the world, from Paris, to India, and China.

Watching these films, it's hard not to put yourself in the shoes of a passerby, a random person whose name we don't know, who exists in a few frames before disappearing to time. Like a fossil, it's interesting to examine what life was like back then. I love seeing the clothing. Everyone is so formal, at least compared to the laid back air of today. Even so, in the 1890’s people were moving away from the Victorian Era and into the “New Woman” Era. High necklines and longer sleeves were replaced by the open neck and short sleeves as morning turned to dusk. High chiffons under feathered hats were popular as was the shirtwaist style for work. All of these visible in the Lumière films.

Where we jump from reportage to fiction is where we jump from Lumière to Porter. And back to Edison, who had Porter working for him. Projectionist and electrician turned director, Edwin S. Porter was the brains behind many of the mechanics and techniques that have become so highly engrained in the making of films that the idea of them being novel seems almost impossible. In 1899, Porter became head of moving picture production at the Edison Manufacturing Company and throughout his career, which spanned about 15 years, he made more than 70 short films. So lets look at a few of them in detail.

Jack and the Beanstalk (1902)

You'll see that a lot of the narrative ideas for these early films spun directly out of fairytales. For an audience, fairytales were a familiarity. Thus, they were able to stitch together what they already knew about the characters and stories and better understand these new moving pictures. And Porter knew this from his work as a projectionist. He knew what engaged the audience most. And that wasn't just story, it was technique. Porter's films were revolutionary for what would become known as editing, at that time just cutting film. Simplistic and impactful, he knew how to compact time and create magic. Objects and people appear and disappear in a single cut. The camera remains still, a wide shot, and on a tripod but what's in front of it changes slightly, making for magical realism. For example, once Jack makes it back down to earth after descending the beanstalk, he grabs an ax and starts chopping it down. He's got to do this or the giant chasing him will make it down too. So he swings the ax a few times with all his might. From a large beanstalk, ripe with leaves, reaching up to the sky, we immediately cut to a destroyed one. The fact that we end one cut with Jack in the same position as we start the next, keeps from disrupting the audience even though everything else onscreen has changed. We've condensed time, Jack has saved the day, and the Giant has fallen to his death. Porter would expand on this editing style, perfecting it, discovering cross-cutting.

Life of an American Fireman (1903)

Cross-cutting or parallel action is so integral to editing that it happens in just about every film. Simply, two separate events are occurring - say, a woman trying to escape a fire inside of her house and firefighters rushing in a horse carriage to save her. These two events, perceived to be happening at the same time, are stitched together through editing so that the audience experiences both. Cut to the woman in her house as the fire inches closer to her. Cut to the firefighters rushing up the stairs. Will they get there? Will they save her? Cross-cutting serves to create tension and set the rhythm of a scene. Eventually, the two spatial points of view merge and the conflict should be resolved. This originates in Porter's films and Life of An American Fireman is the first one that shows it off.

Let's cut back to the first shot of this film, it's a trick shot. A sleepy fireman dreams of a mother putting her daughter to bed. Abruptly, the fire alarm is set off and he wakes up. Instead of cutting from the fireman dozing off in his chair to a separate shot of the mother, which would create confusion on whether the fireman was dreaming, Porter uses double exposure to frame the dream above the fireman shoulder. Double exposure had been employed by photographers since the 1860's to produce dreamy situations in otherwise ordinary places but in film, it first appears in Georges Méliès Four Heads are Better Than One. When we see the house aflame for the first time in Life of an American Fireman, the same mother and daughter from the dream pair reappear. The fireman's premonition connects back to the main drama of the story.

The Great Train Robbery (1903)

In this film we take the leap from a theatrical approach to cinematography, where the camera simply watches the action at a long-shot or observing eye, to being involved in the action. One way that Porter does this is by integrating the pan.

Panning is a technique that moves a camera side to side in a fixed location. We haven't taken the camera off of a tripod or stepped forward in anyway, we are simply turning left or right on the horizontal axis. If we took a step forward and followed a character or action we'd have a tracking shot. But we aren't there yet so plant your feet in the ground for now. Porter uses pans to reveal. The first pan is executed about six minutes into the film. The robbers jump off the caboose with their stolen goods and make a run for it. But where are they going? Queue the pan and we find out it's down some steep hills and into a forest. The subsequent shot is them in the thicket of a forest. Running passed the camera until all but one have exited camera left. But how will they get out? Queue the second pan to reveal horses - their getaway plan. This pan is masterfully done. I love the way Porter keeps his camera static and just observes the tumbling, running robbers until only one is left onscreen. Then and only then does he pan left to reveal the horses. By leaving only one person onscreen, not only does the audience have less to track but so does the camera. Simplifying the frame down to only the necessities of the action, one robber running away in a forest, amplifies the pan and makes the reveal feel complete - we reunite with the group of robbers and horses.

Depending on which version of the film you watch, you might be surprised by waves of color among a sea of black and white. Tinting whole films blue, amber, or sepia has been around since the origins of moving pictures, but in The Great Train Robbery, Porter selects specific actions or objects to tint. This was all done by hand.

Color is one big manipulator. Think of light blue and you'll likely picture endless summer skies; an air of calm. How about Green? I picture the tangled tree webs of a jungle - adventure, growth, the smell of dew on fresh leaves, nature. Now red. Explosions, fire, burst of emotion. Yellow? A bright, morning sun, a blooming sunflower, happiness, positivity, a new start. Early filmmakers used color to bring attention to specific objects, people, and actions. They used it to draw out an emotion from the viewer. They used it to connect themes of violence, love, and happiness. And they used it to spice up their frame.

Porter hand paints the explosion of a train lockbox bright orange and a deep red. The smokey pops from gunshots are also a fiery red. The dress of a dancing woman is bright yellow. The coat of another girl is a rich purple. The addition of color cultivates realism but also gives the film a flair of the imaginary.

So, we have the creative process of tinting to enhance the visual characteristics of a story and we have panning to push forward the important aspects of a narrative. Let's add a few more ingredients to our recipe.

Because the story cuts back and forth between the robbers, the operator, and the posse of men who will eventually hunt down the robbers, it has parallel action. Three separate storylines, integrated through the edit, that coverage at the end. Now that we have the way in which the story is cut and delivered, how about some specific effects?

In shots where the action occurs inside the prop train, which is not moving but the audience is meant to believe it is, Porter uses double exposure to ground his location in reality. He filmed exterior, moving shots and layered them onto the static train shots. In the '30s this would become known as "rear projection".

Additionally, Porter creatively placed his camera in new ways to produce frames that diverged from the typical wide shot; bringing the viewer closer into the action. For example, at about 2 minutes and 50 seconds in, the camera is propped on top of the engine car roof while a sneaking robber crawls passed and kills a fireman.

At last we arrive at the final shot. Diverging from the narrative, Porter set this up to look like a wanted poster. It is filmed in a medium close-up, which serves to focus all attention on the subject by filming them waist-up, having them fill up most of the frame, and blocking out the surrounding environment. The robber points his revolver right at the camera and shoots six times. If you've ever seen Goodfellas, Martin Scorsese recreates this at the end with Joe Pesci. Seemingly, the purpose was to shoot the audience. To tell them even though all of these robbers were killed in the end, their spirit doesn't die. It says "I'm warning you- it's still dangerous out there." Funny enough, this wasn't even the original intention. The shot was promotional and where it ended up in the film was entirely up to the projectionist. It could've just as well been placed at the beginning if they wanted. Even so, the break in the fourth wall and punch of dramatics that ended the film still prevail through cinema history today. Completing the recipe for one the first Westerns, ripe with shootouts, chase sequences, bandits, and suspense.

The Kleptomaniac (1905)

When moving pictures are void of sound and spoken dialogue it's a bit difficult to understand what characters are doing onscreen. Heightened emotional and physicalized acting made up for this. Through facial expressions and over the top, exaggerated body movements, audiences could connect the dots to figure out what was going on in a scene. But in 1903, Porter directed Uncle Tom's Cabin and introduced intertitles, words that would appear printed onscreen. Early iterations of intertitles read like book chapters. They described the main action that was about to take place in the scene. In Uncle Tom's Cabin some examples include: "The Escape of Eliza", "Rescue of Eva", and "Tom and Eva in the Garden. In The Kleptomaniac, intertitles state location and give context to where we are, which is helpful because without them, I don't think I could follow what was going on - at all.

Location is such a main element in this film that intertitles are practically non negotiable. "Leaving Home", "Arriving at the Store", "Home of Thief", and "Court Room Scene", prepare us with the information that is necessary to fully understand the purpose of each scene. The department store shot isn't clear-cut. It could've been a mail room or an office. If we miss that it's a department store that our main character is visiting (and stealing from), we miss the connection to the thief stealing food later on in the film and thus miss the whole theme of class disparities. The intertitles supplement for lack of onscreen information and sound. They would be used regularly in the silent era, branching into dialogue intertitles and expositionary intertitles before dying out with the advent of sound.

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prosepeare · 4 years ago

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WandaVision Aftermath

Well, I had too many thoughts (and feelings) about this amazing show, so I’m just going to go in a list…

1. WandaVision was an amazing show all-around. I love it!

2. What it did with the characters, and their actors, was so great. Wanda Maximoff and the Vision had never really gotten opportunities to shine in the movies before, and thus, neither had Elizabeth and Paul, but this series took the chance to build on their characters so much, and give their actors real chances to display their ranges and tap into their characters’ emotional depths.

3. It was a real TV Show – in that weekly installments built on things more and more, suspense kept us going, and it really feels in hindsight like binge-watching after the fact might have taken away from the experience of watching it the first time. In some ways, it reminds me of The Good Place (which I’ve seen some of) – each episode built the plot/characters and kept things moving, while the show manages to achieve multiple genres at once.

4. Also, it builds up my personal hype for the next Disney Plus TV Shows – if the one people probably had the least excitement regarding ended up being so good/engaging, who knows what the ones we’re really pumped for will be like?

5. In a lot of ways, this show helpfully deconstructs some of the problems with Wanda’s breakdown in the comics, and the tropes which surrounded Daenerys in the GoT finale. Namely, “this woman has too much power and it’ll make her go crazy that needs to be full-on stopped, which is such a burden for our heroes.” Rather, it’s recognized that Wanda has very legitimate reasons for her feeling that way, and instead the other characters who are heroes try and support and reason with her, and she makes it out of the series on a more hopeful – if not happy – note. (But there are still aspects of this that have a whiff of white feminism, I admit.)

6. Arguably, Monica was the hero of WandaVision: she kept trying to reason with a person who needed it, she played a large role in saving a trapped town, she wouldn’t let someone with the wrong intentions disregard what her mother would have wanted, etc. And I’m so glad that she’s going higher places (pun intended). But I’ve seen more than one person point out a couple of racist problems regarding the character’s trajectory…and yeah, they’re on point.

7. One of the things that had me worried for a little bit after the penultimate episode was the possibility that Hex!Vision’s personality would go into White!Vision’s body – because it would sabotage so much of the emotional narrative and morals being built, regarding that it’s healthy to let go of grief and let memories live inside you instead of living in denial and escaping into fantasy. But instead, White!Vision’s story is (possibly) TBC, and Hex!Vision is understood to be created out of Wanda’s love for the true Vision, and ends up passing peacefully.

8. Though what Wanda did wasn’t okay, as several other people have pointed out in posts and reblogs, I think it’s understandable how truly tempting something like that would be: if you had the power to remake your world in a happier image, dismissing anything under the surface with excuses, living through lives of the things that brought you joy, wouldn’t you want to take it, at the very least? Especially those in a very vulnerable emotional position…

9. I’m glad we’ve finally gotten the Scarlet Witch in the MCU! The new costume looks cool – it’s in-keeping with her prior ‘official’ look, but it doesn’t have a ridiculously low neckline, and it’s got the headpiece. And the Hex was a great name, and a great shout-out to the comics with Wanda’s ‘Hex Powers.’

10. Another thing the series did for the MCU as a whole is built up suspense and excitement regarding a movie many people probably weren’t fully psyched about, Doctor Strange 2. Now we’re all going to have to see it, to know what happens next, the way this story ended.

11. OKAY GOD NOW I’M GETTING TO YOUNG AVENGERS THOUGHTS BECAUSE THE MCU WILL GET THERE IT’S BASICALLY BEING CONFIRMED.

12. First off, the twins were so cute!! Julian and Jeff did a great job portraying them, and if the rumors that they will appear in Doctor Strange 2 are true, then all the better (and I think it’s good for the original twins to appear so the audience has a preexisting connection). But though the ages across the spectrum for potential YA members – Cassie and Kate’s actresses are both mid-twenties, America Chavez’s actress is fourteen as I’m writing this – they’re too young, probably, to be full-on members. Which means we’ll probably see them age up again.

13. GODDAMN THAT LAST POST-CREDITS SCENE. Not only did re-watching it give me the willies when I later had to get up in the night (the screams haunted me…) but we have no idea what happened to the twins when they went poof. Wanda didn’t create the Vision out of nothing (her love for him and the Mind Stone that was in them both made it possible), and she warped reality in the Hex, and (yeah I’m applying real-world physics to superheroes but hey, they try to do it as much as possible too, these days) energy cannot be created or destroyed only changed…so they’re probably real in some way. Especially considering they were able to act independently, developed powers of their own, and had personalities…

14. I’m betting Hulkling will appear in Captain Marvel 2 or Secret Invasion¸ so then it’ll be Billy + Teddy 4Evah. Because, if nothing else, Hulkling’s required for the Young Avengers (and if anyone tried to outright erase the relationship between the Skrull Emperor and his mage, what the fans would do, would make 1/6/21 look like a tea party).

15. But I’m kind of curious…of all the Young Avengers members we know about (or can assume, in the case of Hulkling), none of them have ever actually led the team that I know about. So, is it going to be Young Kang as Iron Lad (because that can’t last), or will it be someone else (I still want Eli Bradley to show somehow, because he’s been so sidelined)? If it does end up being someone we know about, my money’s on Kate. (I’ll admit, part of me is worried about what might happen if they introduced too many, because I’m worried that Tommy – who hasn’t always been a member of the team – would have to go, but I don’t think they’d do that.)

16. I’m pumped for the show in general, and what might come next, so bring it!!!

#prosepeare #thinky thoughts #feely feels #wandavision #wandavision spoilers #wanda maximoff #vision #young avengers #marvel #marvel comics #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #a lot of other tags but I'm too lazy right now

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justalokifanaccount · 4 years ago

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Episode 5-Play by Play Reactions (Spoilers)

Bruh I’m so friggin excited

Thanks for reminding me of mobius and Loki being pruned… I totally needed that

Man tom has really beautiful eyes

IM SO EXCITED FOR ALLIGATOR LOKI

Back in the TVA huh?

Upside down Dutch camera angle huh?

I really hope they introduce Kang, I mean, Ravonna IS Kang’s GF in the comics

Okay we left the TVA

Ruined New York purgatory?

Digging this soundtrack

Alioth??? Hello??? Who is you???

Ravonna doesn’t know either? Hmmm I don’t trust her

BRUH I CALLED IT!!! THEY CANT DESTROY TIMELINES THEY CAN ONLY CUT THEM OFF

I don’t believe her… if she really wanted to know who was behind this after watching the timekeepers prove to be fake then why on earth would she prune Loki then huh?

GATOR LOKI IS SO CUTE

Damn emotional Loki

“Which I’m heartbroken to report I didn’t even find all that strange.” Poor baby

Bruh stop trippin

Bruh I’m trying so hard not to laugh rn. The way old Loki is talking to alligator Loki is killing me. I have been watching Jessie recently with the kids I babysit and now I’m being reminded of Mrs. Kipling, the Asian water monitor.

Loki is so done with this lmaoo

Okay wow these subtitles are having big trouble keeping up and staying accurate…

Poor Loki lmao

Kid Loki killed thor oh my gosh

How??? Why??? But Loki isn’t evil!!! Well, maybe THIS version is I guess…

Oh hey Mjolnir

Wait what’s in the jar?? IS THAT FROG THOR? THROG?? OH MY GOSH IT IS

Bruh they all have glorious purposes

Loki don’t be a simp

Mall Santa throne

Miss minutes is back

Miss minutes is sus

I still don’t trust Ravonna

Called it

Treacherous biotch

She’s behind it I know it. Working for her BF Kang

She’s behind it bruh I know

Just one good memory?? AGHHHHHH MY BELOVED

She pruned herself!!!

SYLVIE MY BELOVED

Lmaooooo black Loki liar

Haha alligator Loki ate the neighbors cat

Bruh I’m getting major Paradigm vibes (you need to check out that game if you haven’t)

“But blades are worthless in face of a Loki sorcery” at least THIS man gets it

He missed his brother and of course the TVA goes “hahaha no you’re not allowed.”

God of Outcasts is better than the Loser Club don’t @ me

Sooo whats black Lokis past then? And what about more of kids Loki?

Lmao sounds terrifying as a woman Loki

Please don’t make Sylvie the crutch to save the day. Let tom hiddleston be the hero please

They’re gonna laugh at his plan

Called it

OH EVEN MORE LOKIS HOW LOVELY

PRESIDENT LOKI

Oh hey Sylvie

You in a nest?

Oh my

Girl you better run

Hahahahaha uh oh

Oh my! She’s sending stuff

MOBIUS OH MY GOSH YES

I’m calling it now it’s him

YES YES YES YES YES

HELL YEA MY GUY

Two tom Hiddleston’s

So how did he get an army

Lmao

The chaos is palpable

OH??????

WHAT

ALLIGATOR LOKI BIT OFF PRESIDENT LOKIS HAND AND THEN HE SCREAMED LIKE A LITTLE GIRL

I’m not so happy about the way that ended. At least not with the girlish scream from president Loki… seemed wildly out of character.

I’m so confused

I have no idea how to feel

Lmao TVA Loki is so damn confused and over everything

Alligator Loki didn’t betray you!! He’s a good boy!

How do you know it’s a death sentence??? Huh??? Maybe it’s the answer!

Sooo does every single pruned person ever get sent here or his mobius also a Loki?

HAHAHA I CALLED IT! ALIOTH IS THE ANSWER.

Cannibals huh? Lovely

Hold on guys it’s Lokis love

“Is he a coward or is he being brave?” “Not too sure.” Same

REUNION BABY

Us as an alligator

Stop bickering

Please please please give Loki a good moment. Let him be badass please for God’s sake

What happened to the hunter from the last episode?

Oh here we are

Please they better not hurt her

I know she wasn’t trustworthy. Gosh I hate Renslayer.

She’s still tryna protect whoever gave her power. Renslayer I will revel in your defeat.

Man I’ve missed mobius

Mobius cares about Loki!!! Even Sylvie knows!

Wdym it’s cold? Homie your a frost giant

LOKI CAN CONJURE BLANKIES. New fanfic idea oh heck yea.

Lmao oh great they’re in denial about feelings

Awkward teens in love

You have Loki!

Oh gosh the awkward tension!

AWWWWW HE SHARED THE BLANKET

It’s like watching two awkward teenagers on their first date ever in their lives.

Yea loki but you were also betrayed by your father and home sooooo

Loki. You know you can be happy without ruling.

Together.

Oh my gosh my heart is loving the awkwardness

What the freak are those bird like things

Still better than the devils anus

I need Sylvie to teach Loki how to enchant

He’s sticking beside her

FLAME SWORD HELL YEA

Conjured a hilt. Can you please conjure a badass asgardian outfit too?

Burn it to the ground.

OH MY GOSH I KOVE THEM ALL

Hug

Please

YESSSSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

HE CALLED MOBIUS A FRIEND

Mobius how dare you call Sylvie your favorite

Tom you will always be my favorite

Reminds me kind of Dormamu

The skull in alioth looks like a wolf skull

Loki if you get yourself killed I’ll never forgive you

Is this where he does the come and get me?

CALLED IT

Flame sword babyyyy

What’s going to work? Teeeeaaaamwork

LOKI TEAM UP

HOLY CRAP THAT LOKI IS POWERFUL

HOMIE RECREATED ASGARD

HOLY CRAP

ENCHANT TOGETHER YESSS

OH MY GOSH

THIS IS SO COOL

Cmon Loki you can do it!!

Save old Loki cmon!

YESSSSSSAAAA

SAVE HIM PLEASE

Please

Pease

Please

Glorious purpose

Don’t die please

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

No….. MARVEL STOP KILLING OUR LOKIS FOR GOD SAKE

They did it! But old Loki is gone… and I’m sad…

Where’s kid Loki and gator Loki?

Are we not gonna see black Loki again? I was excited for him

Don’t you dare go to credits

YOU SONNUVA

At least it ended on a happier note this time…

But I miss old Loki already… please tell me he’s not dead… but I suppose since pruning already doesn’t kill them, it’d be cheap to have Alioth also not kill them..

Rest In Peace old Loki. You died with honor in battle… you will be in Valhalla. I know it.

I heard the Kablooie gum was a reference to Calvin and Hobbes and lemme just say that is the best thing ever

Dang no end credit or mid credit scene

Wow this was a crazy episode. Some parts I loved, some parts I was very much not happy with. Mostly the scene with president Loki. I hoped that would be much longer and that it would play more into the overall story, not just a throwaway scene to reference a comic and have a quick laugh. I’m fine with alligator Loki biting off that Loki’s hand, but not with the childish scream afterwards… that felt very out of character.

Can’t wait for the final episode!!! Nothing better happen to Loki or Sylvie. I hope we get to see the other Lokis again. I also want to know more about kid Loki and black Loki. Why did kid Loki kill Thor and how? What’s up with black Loki and what was his nexus event? We didn’t even get to learn about his hammer. I’m fine with not learning about alligator Loki. It’s fine to have that be a fun mystery imo. It was funny seeing throg very briefly too. But I have too many questions that I know won’t be answered in only one more episode which is disappointing. Maybe we can learn more in the supposedly confirmed season two? I hope so. I’m really curious about how they are going to wrap things up and what the fates of everyone will be. I hope this isn’t an isolated event that doesn’t tie into phase four at all. I really want Loki in Multiverse of Madness. Not just Sylvie although idk if we can get both of them in, but I don’t want this show to be Sophia Di Martino’s only appearance in the MCU.

I trust tom Hiddleston but I know marvel doesn’t always allow him to shine through as much as he could. I’m so hopeful for this show but my anxiety is also skyrocketing.

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atamascolily · 5 years ago

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lily liveblogs “terminator: dark fate”, part 2

“It’s raining men (and women)”.... hallelujah? Or not, as the case may be.

(For those just joining us, part one is here)

I was kinda hoping they would run the credits after the title, but I guess filmmakers... don't do that anymore, because we all have short attention spans these days?? Some of that is George Lucas's fault, I know, but tbh I kinda enjoy the creative ways in which filmmakers USED that space occupied by the opening credits... like how The Karate Kid uses it for Daniel and Lucille's road trip between Jersey and California, how it establishes how many friends Daniel had, the importance of his bike, and the whole "putting the car in neutral" and rolling it to get the engine going AND the motif/promise of the pool... all in a minute or two. Magical. I kinda miss that compared to earlier films.

Anyway, highway at night in what the screen tells me is Mexico City 22 years later. Okay, then. There's ice... and then lightning crackling on the road edge, which can only mean one thing -- a visitor from the future!!

There's a woman making out with her boyfriend underneath the highway, and she says "Oh, my god," and the boyfriend thinks it's all his doing, LOL. Sorry, dude, not today.

THE SPHERE IS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HIGHWAY OVERPASS, HOLY FUCK, WHO SET THOSE COORDINATES?? It's a good thing the spheres destroy everything around them, or else this movie would be very, very short.

As it is, Grace falls naked from a great height, banging on supports as she goes down. Ow. Great way of showing she's not quite human.

Of course the watching girl goes over to help while her boyfriend sits there slack-jawed until she shames him into going along. They pick her up and carry her towards their car, only for the police to show up and demand to know what's going on. They think that they're drug dealers (?) and don't believe that she fell from a bridge.

"I love it when it rains naked ladies," says the cop, which is movie-speak for, "I'm an asshole about to get my ass kicked and the audience is going to cheer while it happens".

He grabs her, and Grace sees his gun, and goes for it. Yup, he's down. She's got some sort of augmented vision like the Terminator though anyone who's seen the trailer knows already she's on the side of good.

Grace takes out all the cops completely naked, and I love how this scene is filmed because it's so not focused on anything sexual and it's not sexualized at all, at least for the male gaze that I can tell. It's just... a naked woman kicking ass without obsessing over the fact that she's naked, and it's so goddamn refreshing.

The boyfriend thinks she's amazing. His girlfriend walks over and hugs him. Grace strides up to him and compares her bare foot to his boot. "Don't thank me yet," she says in a deadpan.

Cut to Grace wearing his clothes driving away in his car as the boyfriend stands around in his boxers and yells for her to go to hell. And I like this because it's so much more effective this way to leave the details in the reader's head and show us the results. The girlfriend steers him away, and he starts blaming her, for getting them involved in the first place. Fuck you, dude. I hope she dumps him that night, too.

Cut to Dani in the street somewhere, carrying flowers and chatting with a tamale vendor. We learn from this that she always has flowers -- an association with life and spirit, and not letting the grind get you down. I approve.

Dani has a brother, Diego, who wants to be a pop star, and a father whom she reminds to go to the doctor. Caretaker of the family! Of course they have a dog, named Taco. I'm sure this will be relevant later. I hope Taco survives. Diego tries to chat up a neighbor named Julia, and I'm sure this will all end tragically. I hope she survives.

Dani and Diego leave just in time... for another naked person to drop from the sky in a glowing electric sphere! What are the odd??!

Okay, I don't remember the spheres forming ice in previous films, but it's a cool detail that it makes all the laundry on the lines freeze and shatter... so it's gotta be SUPER COLD. Like, liquid-nitrogen levels of cold.

Like Grace's sphere, this one drops its inhabitant off in mid-air, but the Terminator is able to do a beautiful leap and land on his feet like a cat. He looks like a marble sculpture here - beautiful, smooth, polished, muscled grace. Hot damn. There is absolutely no emotion on his face as he stands up, and even without the music cues, you know right away something is wrong.

There's a woman staring at him when he turns around. And now he looks friendly... earnest, helpful. "Good morning," he says in Spanish as he reaches out to touch the jacket she has in her hand, and it spills up out of his skin HOLY FUCK THAT IS CREEPY AND AMAZING at the same time.

The woman FREAKS OUT and he SMILES at her ever so slightly, and--

Cut to a busy city street. Unlike the highway where Grace appeared, this in the middle of the city, with lots of apartment buildings and traffic. Dani and Diego are on a bus.

Cut to Dani's father answering a knock on the door while Taco the dog barks hysterically. I know, I know, I'm so sorry, Taco. There's the Terminator, and he's so charming and earnest in his plaid jacket, looking for Dani. He claims to be a friend. Her father is shocked. "That's strange. Her friends call her Dani..."

"Dani?" repeats the Terminator. "Yes, of course." AND HE SMILES... fuck. A TERMINATOR THAT CAN MIMIC HUMAN FACIAL EXPRESSIONS AND SHOW EMOTIONS I AM NOT PREPARED FOR THIS.

(but it actually makes PERFECT SENSE for reasons that will be explained later [kinda] in the film!!!!)

Cut to a factory. Arius Motors. Dani and Diego going in to work as cars swing by on the line. There are robot arms and it's all very timely and metaphorical. Somebody goes by on a bicycle INSIDE THE FACTORY and I have no idea how that works, but okay.

Diego's station has been replaced by "a new guy,"--an orange robot arm. Dani asks the supervisor what's going on and he says, "The future," and the manager wants to see Diego in his office. Dani goes in his place, the supervisor says no, Dani pulls out her hair tie, and goes anyway. THIS IS WHY SHE'S THE LEADER OF THE MOTHERFUCKING RESISTANCE, Y'ALL, she’s ALREADY taking no shit from robots.

Dani's father shows up at the factory claiming his kids forgot their lunch and can he come in? Poor dad is definitely dead. I hope Taco at least survived, but I doubt it. Meanwhile Grace is approaching and just leaps over the turnstile like it's no big deal and I LOVE IT. Then she follows a security guard into a corner and mugs him for his uniform and it's all so goddamn quick.

The security guard tells "Dad" that he can't come in without a helmet and vest, which is bullshit, because most of the employees don't wear them, but whatever. Grace keeps walking. How the fuck did she dress so fast, but she looks great. She's got a jacket awkwardly covering her gun, and it's not subtle, but no one seems to notice.

Dani is arguing with the boss, who is... American? At least he's speaking English. She's trying to keep her brother's job, but he's all "well, he's not as good as you are," and Dani is Not Having It. She threatens to tell them that machines are coming for ALL the jobs, and god, I love her so much because EVEN WITHOUT TERMINATORS MESSING UP HER LIFE, SHE WAS GONNA GO PLACES.

"Dad" goes to Dani's station and she isn't there, but he talks to Diego. (I don't know how he knows so much, but I'm sure it wasn't pretty.) The Terminator makes that lame excuse about bringing lunches, and Diego is confused, because Dani already took care of that--

Then Dani shows up and the lunch morphs into a gun, and I'm not sure how they did that, because wasn't the morphing stuff not supposed to MAKE GUNS--ok, maybe he took the security guard's gun and morphed the lunch OVER it as a cover with his polyalloy bits--but FUCK this dude is SCARY--and points the gun at Dani as she and Diego stare--only to have his head blown open as Grace fires.

Grace keeps shooting as Dani screams, and grabs Dani before she can get to "Dad". Grace is way better at explaining things than Kyle Reese: "That is NOT your father. That was a machine that sent here to kill you. " It helps that the Terminator has lots of metal bits exposed at this point, and rapidly shifting back to normal. Come with me or you're dead in the next thirty seconds!"

Dani doesn't buy this, but she runs as Grace shepherds both her and Diego away.

And that back arch as the Terminator sits up and regenerates back to his "original" persona--which, I'll note, he DIDN't steal from anyone in our present; it was the one he came with UNLIKE the T-1000 in T2--and it's scary as hell. And even watching him run, and leap--it's not human. It's a predator disguised in human form. Well done, filmmakers.

I like how they show Grace's augmented senses here, and how she has the extra warning to shove Dani and Diego out of the way when the Terminator goes flying for her. He slices her cap off with arms that are suddenly sword-knives, and she swings a mallet at him, knocking him flat--and flinging him into a wall when she hits him again. She is really fucking strong, and I've never seen a woman be this strong before and it's AMAZING.

She hits him on the head over and over again, and then he starts crawling up the mallet towards her and it's so creepy HOLY FUCK and then he sends her sprawling and pops the mallet back out of his head OH MY GOD.

Grace starts using a piece of car siding as shield because she lost her weapon, keeping herself between the Terminator and Dani at all times.

Diego crushes him with a machine--I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE, FILMMAKERS, NICE CALLBACK. Unfortunately, it doesn't take, but it does give them some breathing room. Meanwhile, Grace is tired and out of breath, and visibly overheating. The perfect time to introduce herself to Dani!

Grace explains the situation on the run, and throws Diego into the truck they steal outside when he hesitates. I gotta hand it to her, she's doing this whole thing pretty well.

Diego sees her arm. "Are you a machine too?" "No I'm human, like you!" They don't believe her. "No, I'm augmented." THIS IS GOING TO BE A THEME, OH MY GOD. More on this later. Grace can argue with them AND hotwire the truck at the same time. #goals.

They bust out of the factory. The police immediately go after them, not sure how that worked, and Grace says "Oh, shit," seconds before the Terminator (now revealed as the Rev-9) busts through the wall with a truck and a... snowplow? I guess it's for moving stone and metal bits around the factory? Whatever. It's a lot. The police cars go flying.

Somehow Grace manages to drive AND explain backstory at the same time, which I admire, because I can barely talk and drive at the same time.

There's a lot of civilian casualties, mostly due to the Rev-9 snowplowing everything. They end up going backwards up the highway off-ramp and onto the highway. The Rev-9 busts through more things and loses the snowplow. It's a bad day to be driving in Mexico City, let's just say that much.

Grace gets the first "FUCK!" of the movie, as the check engine light of the truck comes on, so Dani gets to drive while Grace makes improvised weapons out of rebar. Oh, wait, Dani can't drive, so Diego gets to do it. (Hahaha, I guess Dani's going to learn how to drive soon because METAPHOR)

Graces eases off her jacket so she can blow off steam and leaps into the back of the truck, yelling for Dani to put her seatbelt on OH MY GOD THIS MOVIE. I love it.

She targets the Rev-9 and throws. He doesn't even flinch at the first one and catches the second one. She stabs him several times through and then he grabs the rebar and moves the polymetallic alloy portion of himself onto the front of the truck while the metallic Terminator skeleton drives.

[COMBINING THOSE TWO PARTS IS REALLY CREEPY AND ALSO THE BEST DECISION THEY COULD HAVE MADE 10/10 APPROVED]

It looks like the skeleton is laughing at Grace, but I think that's just his resting bitch face, lol.

Grace changes tactics and shoots for the tires. The Rev-9 jumps and throws a rebar back at her and Grace deflects it so it misses Dani. Then the truck is dragging the Rev-9's protoplasm while the other half crashes and Grace has to fend him off. Rev-9 takes this opportunity and slashes at the tires with his sword-hands. Grace kicks him off and he gets run over, but it won't take. Diego crashes the truck as the tire blows and Grace rolls and takes a bad fall onto the pavement. The Rev-9's skeleton crawls out of the flames.

DANI WORE HER SEATBELT SO SHE'S FINE WHILE DIEGO DIDN'T AND IS INJURED OH MY GOD THIS MOVIE THE DETAILS FUUUUUUCCCKKKK. Like, Grace knew Dani had to wear her seatbelt BECAUSE SHE'S FROM THE FUTURE AND OLDER!DANI TOLD HER TO DO IT! And younger!Dani DID IT! OH my GOD! (either that or they really are just that drift compatible)

Oh, no, Diego has rebar through him, he's not going to survive AAAAAAAAH no whhhhhhyyyyy

Meanwhile, some poor motorist tries to help the Rev-9 and is murdered for his troubles. sigh.

Grace has to pull Dani over the body of her dying brother seconds before the Rev-9 smashes into the car and everything explodes in fire. Dani tries to run to Diego and Grace holds her back. Grace makes Dani run.

All of the Rev-9's protoplasm is oozing back towards the skeleton in liquid dark smears on the ground and it's so creepy FUUUUCCKKKK

Oh god HE WALKS THROUGH THE METAL HIGHWAY GUARD LIKE IT'S NO BIG DEAL HOW CREEPY CAN YOU GET FUUUUCCKKK

And then the skeleton starts throwing rebar at them from the other SIDE fuuuuckk. this movie so isn't subtle, because there's the machine part and the human-looking part, and they're both working together as one, and this is a METAPHOR, we're meant to see the Rev-9 and Grace as FOILS to each other AAHHHHHH and the Rev-9 is also a SYMBOL OF WHAT HUMANITY CAN BECOME IF IT MELDS WITH AI, AHHHHHHH

Can I just note here that the skeleton part DOES NOT HAVE A ROUND HEAD THERE IS IN FACT A GAP WHERE ITS BRAIN SHOULD BE AAAAAAA

"When they start to kill me, run," Grace says to Dani. But... AN SUV pulls up, knocks the skeleton flat on its ass as the human part of the REV-9 just stares in dull, placid confusion.

next up: my fave returns!

#terminator #terminator: dark fate

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slamsams-blog · 5 years ago

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Die Another Day - #24WeeksofBond

24 Weeks of Bond hits the low point this week with Pierce Brosnan’s swan song as 007 in “Die Another Day”. Oh man, there is just so much to say and unpack about this movie, it’s hard to put into summary every which way this film fails to deliver. This film came at a cross-roads for film goers who still loved Bond, but were starting to grow a little tired of the hokey-ness and sleaze of James Bond and were wanting something a little rougher. “The Bourne Identity” had come out just a few months prior to high praise for it’s hard hitting, intense, stripped-down style...it was fresh. A few months later “Die Another Day” comes out with an older Pierce Brosnan, some god awful writing and cartoonish cinematography. Change needed to happen, and this movie would mark the end of the sex puns, over the top gadgets, and far fetched scenarios.

Listen, I LOVE Bond. I really have a hard time saying a Bond movie is bad...but this movie. is. bad. This is a tale of two films. The first half is an action packed drama that is gritty, and dark and the second half is like watching a Joel Schumacher Batman film (the one where Batman has nipples). The plot is also a rip off of “Diamonds Are Forever” and constantly goes for the cheap pop - bringing out all the old gadgets and familiar looking scenes for the 40th anniversary of Bond. There is just so much trash talk to shell out here, but let’s start with the good stuff.

Die Another Day actually starts out quite promising and delivers a thrilling pre-title sequence with Bond infiltrating a North Korean Army base where he has stolen the clothing of a man trading African Conflict Diamonds for some weapons with a Colonel of the North Korean military and his stooge Zao. Bond is eventually found out but manages to escape the firing squad to chase down Colonel Moon on a HOVERCRAFT! Pretty neat. Colonel Moon eventually runs out of road and takes a fall appearing to be slain, but Bond is caught again by Moon’s dad and for the next 14 months, Bond will be held prisoner and tortured.

I always liked how they utilized the title sequence to take us through Bond’s captivity (even though we are forced to listen to Madonna’s over produced and just flat out weird song...what’s the deal with the random “Sigmund Freud” lyric?). Though the song is hard on the ear drums, it does a great job in providing an aura of despair and pain in the torture aspect of the title sequence...maybe because the song is torture?

We come back from Madonna, and Jesus Bond is now being traded for Zao who has diamonds permanently implanted in his face from Bond’s intrusion. This makes Bond angry and makes him question why MI6 would give Zao up. M is also pissed about it, it appears that there is someone who is playing MI6 for fools. M is so mad that she essentially burns Bond and relieves him of his 00 status, but this doesn’t stop Bond from forcing himself into cardiac arrest to escape and find out who is behind all of this.

See? Starts out great! If only they can keep this momentum going...(spoiler alert: they can’t)

Another positive about this movie is a great fencing scene with Bond and Gustav Graves (Toby Stephans). I've just always been tickled by how much this scene escalates from a little game of fencing to an all out sword fight. It is one of the few highlights of the film, complete with a cameo made by Madonna...something I’m sure she negotiated to sign on for the Bond theme. Get that payday, Madonna!

Well thats about all the positive I can muster for this film. It’s time to take the gloves off. Die Another Day’s wheels start to come loose when Bond is in Cuba looking for Zao...during this time, he meets Jinx (Halle Berry), and the dialogue that will unfold, sounds like the writer brought in his perverted nephew, who is just out of high school, looking to write a scene to get his friends to laugh when they watch it in his parents basement. Halle Berry is the victim of poor writing, and possibly poor directing, yes, but she also tries WAY too hard to be a cool, witty, and deadly agent. I’ll give Berry the benefit of the doubt to an extent, but I really think she just over acted here.

On top of that - Brosnan and Berry have absolutely ZERO chemistry. Brosnan is no spring chicken anymore, so we are supposed to believe a woman like Halle Berry would welcome the advances from a bird watcher in his mid-50′s who says Mojito really weird? Come on. And the obvious dick jokes and creepiness from Bond who is foaming at the mouth, desperate for sex after being tortured for over a year makes this scene so uncomfortable to watch.

But we later come to find out that Jinx is more than just a reincarnation of Honey Ryder from Dr. No...she is also a secret agent that seems to never take anything seriously and in the face of death by laser, still has time for jokes. We find out Zao is trying to do gene-therapy treatment to change his identity to someone else. Much like Colonel Moon had done, turning himself into the man we will come to know as Gustav Graves. The adrenaline filled, publicity junky, billionaire with an eye for diamonds.

Speaking of over acting, Toby Stephans puts out a good effort with the Gustav Graves character but he is just so over the top with his “evil” looks that there is no denying that he is indeed the villain. Some of the best villains in cinema and television are villains that get you to like them. They play to your emotions, let you in on their dark secrets, give you a smile and a laugh, maybe even make you connect with them in a twisted way...but Graves lets you know by his nostril flares and angry glares, that you couldn’t possibly like him if you tried.

Graves invites Bond to his party in Iceland, (isn’t Greenland the icy one?). This is when the movie goes off the rails completely, the second half of the film that looks like the props, sets, and lighting design were borrowed from the Power Rangers. This ridiculous ice palace accompanied by the super ridiculous revelation of the “Icarus” - a satellite made out of diamonds (exactly like Diamonds are Forever) is just so off-putting. The Icarus shoots a beam as powerful as the sun and can also be used as a freakin sun beam death laser from the sky. Yes, you heard that right. At one point Bond is involved in a chase where he is being tailed by a sun beam death laser from the sky. This leads to the most cringe worthy scene in all of Bond...Bond escapes by CGI surfing.

I’ve said before, one of the aspects of the Bond films that makes the series so successful is the heavy emphasis on real stunts. REAL STUNTS. Director Lee Tamahori thought it would be fun to amp up the CGI because he thought that CGI was the future of the Bond franchise, oh was he sorely mistaken. He also thought it would be a good idea to insert a bunch of slow motion shots throughout the movie, they were going for the ‘Matrix effect’ but it did not play well. It’s choppy and pixilated and just ruins any momentum they managed to build up - it just ends up being annoying.

If that wasn’t bad enough, Q Branch comes out to “Jump the Shark” by delivering an invisible car. Really? This is just another example of the theme of this film taking everything one step too far. But maybe you could argue that that is what we needed in order to know what our threshold as a Bond audience is. You could say that maybe Die Another Day was the most important film in the canon for that reason. Maybe Die Another Day was the sacrificial lamb to fall on it’s own sword to prevent us from going in that direction again, maybe...this movie SAVED THE BOND FRANCHISE??

Eh, Now I’m just devil’s advocating myself. This is thee worst Bond movie of all time and anyone who says differently has no idea what they are talking about, or are just trying to be ‘Ironic’, or whatever. This film ends with Gustav Graves becoming an electrifying super-shredder villain whose design was probably stolen from the Mega-Man video games. The final battle taking place on a plane that is crashing due to a window being knocked out and is also being destroyed by the Sun Beam death laser from the sky. In other words...more CGI.

And to top it all off, we end on another uncomfortable scene with Bond and Jinx again, spitting out blatant toilet humor dialogue making us think that they are getting busy, but it turns out Bond is just putting diamonds in her belly button (which she really wants to leave in for some reason). Traditionally, a Bond movie would end with some witty pun being the last bit of dialogue you would hear before credits, but this...I still can’t figure out how this left the writer’s table.

Bond: “I'm still not quite sure how good you are.”

Jinx: “I’m sooo good...”

Bond: “Especially when you’re bad.”

huh?? It’s not even a pun, it just doesn’t make sense.

Honestly, you can tell Brosnan is thinking “who the hell wrote this shit?” while he is delivering that final line. sigh. The good news is that we can only go up from here! This would be Brosnan’s final performance as James Bond, even though he publicly announced he was going to do another one. Didn’t quite work out that way, the film studio eventually phased him out, leaving Brosnan at curbside. Probably for the best, Brosnan was great for that time, but the pressure was on for change. And change we would get - with Daniel Craig.

That’s all for me tonight, let me know why you hated this movie!

Reviews from Friends:

Tyler Dahlgren

See I like Toby’s Graves. That guy plays despicable well (Black Sails anyone?). It’s the redeeming part of the movie for me. That and the car. I love the Aston Martins, let’s stick to those.

Andrew Albertsen

I think the whole movie should’ve just been about Bond’s incarceration and torture and eventual escape.

My Mom

Sam you don’t mention Rosemund Pike in your review. I thought she made an outstanding ice queen. This had its moments and I do love Pierce Brosnan as Bond but this film was way too long and too much continuous action. A person tunes out.

Jake Benrud

The end of an era. All the gadgets and the over the top villains complete with "diamond face" and a genetically modified psychopath with daddy issues. I don't understand why he needed to drive his car in the ice palace in the first place. Also, that was an epic dive by Halle Berry.

24 Weeks of Bond will return next Monday with -

Quantum of Solace

#James Bond #Pierce Brosnan #halle berry #Die Another Day #24WeeksofBond

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legobiwan · 6 years ago

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Captain Marvel. Let’s jump right in. Spoilers ahoy be warned.

Loved the cold opening with the Kree-Skrull shenanigans. Personally, I felt like having consumed 5 seasons of Agents of SHIELD kind of gave me a leg up on the Kree (as they are particularly nasty in the series). Not sure how others felt going in blind, but I dug the in media res thing.

Along those lines, I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen a titular hero wake up from a nightmare and...not be panting and sweaty?

Love that Carol Danvers is rogue from the beginning.

I’m sorry, but all the 90s throwaway lines/scenes, especially the RadioShack line, had me cackling. I also was a tween/teen during that decade and so I have very vivid memories of all that stuff.

Carol blowing her hair out of her face after landing on the LA Metro was great.

I love Nick Fury. Also, does he always get into car crashes?

GOOSE! GOOSE! GOOSE! ^_^

Maria Rambeau is legendary. That’s all I can say.

And speaking of her, did that dogfight in the canyon remind anyone else of a certain podrace on a desert planet? Because I was getting some major Star Wars vibes from that sequence.

THE TESSERACT IN A FONZ LUNCHBOX. I can hear the collective heart attacks of all of Asgard as I write this. Something tells me that a post-Endgame Loki would approve, however. Trickster and all.

And speaking of that, it seems Carol gets her powers from the Tesseract? This is interesting. I wonder how her Space Stone-powered, well powers, would interact with the Infinity Gauntlet. Is she tethered to the Tesseract in some way? Something tells me this isn’t the last we’re going to hear about this. Damn that Tesseract, it really gets around.

The soundtrack, to me, was eminently forgettable (minus the 90s pop songs, obviously). Feel like they could have done some more work on that.

The douche dudes telling her to “smile” and saying “that’s why it’s a cockpit.” Blerg. But accurate. Glad she got to kick their asses.

On the whole, I think the movie felt...maybe a little rushed in the third act? I loved the opening, felt the 2nd part dragged a bit, and then whiz-bang we’re done. Really could have used a bit more backstory on Yon-Rogg and the Skrull/Kree conflict. Like, I get that they were going for “no war anywhere” but it all felt kind of generic and thus the stakes didn’t feel as high. But the minute they unveiled the Tesseract my interest was piqued.

Carol is at her best when she’s being a sassy-pants. I personally would have liked to have seen a little more of that side of her, as that was when her character really shone the most for me.

OH SWEET KITTEN-FLERKEN I NEARLY HAD A HEART ATTACK WHEN THE INFINITY WAR MUSIC STARTED UP DURING THE MID-CREDITS SCENE. Like, for real, my pulse skyrocketed. Holy balls Endgame is going to destroy me.

Speaking of Flerkens, Goose is amazing. The best kitten-cat-alien ever. I loved when he barfed up the Tesseract cat-style on Fury’s desk. I loved when he did his Lovecraftian tentacle-monster thing. I loved when he went “meow.”

Fun movie, pretty good origin story, got bogged down at times, but Carol Danvers is a winner. Also, my theater was packed on a random Tuesday night, so there’s that. 7.5/10

#hello there #rants from the lego compound #legobiwan goes to the movies #legos in the wild #captain marvel #and next up #my write up on umbrella academy #captain marvel spoilers

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florrickandassociates · 6 years ago

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TGF Thoughts: 3x01-- The One About The Recent Troubles

HI GUYS I WROTE A LOT

New season, new naming convention. Well, it’s either that or Diane Lockhart’s joined a reboot of Friends. Jokes aside, I don’t love the new naming convention (I never watched Friends) but I don’t dislike it either. It’s fine. What I do like is that we’ve dropped any sort of counting (unless you consider “the one” counting). (I am just now realizing that last season’s episode titles were more in the TGW tradition than I thought-- they were just another form of counting). Three seasons in, TGF is its own show (with its own titles!), and that makes me very happy.

I’m about to hit play on my third viewing of this episode. I watched at 5 am on the day it was released (worth it, tbh), then again with my roommate after work that same day.

This year’s previously montage works better than last year’s, but I still don’t love it. The selection of clips seems a little random at first: Liz talking about her father? The Assholes to Avoid case that I was hoping to avoid thinking about ever again? Okay…?

It’s time for some tone-setting! “I’m happy,” Diane states as the season opens. She’s in bed with Kurt, waking up in the morning. This is one of those statements that becomes important mostly because it’s so prominent. I believe that Diane’s happy with her life and happy waking up next to her husband, but I don’t think Diane is trying to make a Thesis Statement. I think she’s just expressing that she feels good. The writers, however, definitely want us to note that Diane starts out the season in a good, happy place. This is because they are going to slowly complicate and destroy Diane’s happiness. That’s not a spoiler-- it’s a prediction.

Kurt laughs. “You like narrating your life,” he comments. Interesting.

“You know, there are psychological studies that say, when people are happy, they look desperately for things to make them unhappy. But that won’t happen to us, will it?” Diane wonders. Of course it will. I know these writers. If there’s one thing they hate it’s writing more than a few scenes of a healthy marriage.

Diane and Kurt’s new bedroom confuses me. It has an arch that seems very low and I can’t tell if that’s the angle or not. Also, we only see the area with the bed, the bathroom, and a large sitting room in this episode. It would make sense for Diane to have a bedroom suite and a separate living room/dining room/kitchen, but the way this episode is shot makes it feel like Diane and Kurt only have that one space.

Now Diane’s asking Kurt for reassurance that everything’s going to be alright, and she seems moderately worried that he doesn’t sound certain when he responds. Maybe there are still some issues there…?

“What could go wrong?” Kurt asks, and right on cue, shit starts to blow up. (By which I mean the title sequence rolls.)

New objects/shots this year include: A tea set, aerial shots of a wine bottle, coffee cups (they discovered aerial shots this year and clearly liked them a lot), the same four purses from last year but arranged differently (looks cooler now), new images on the TV (bye, tiki torch nazis), and the entire set where they staged the explosions.

The third co-creator is still listed, because his name will be attached to this show for as long as it runs, but I really want to know: what did Phil Alden Robinson even do to create the show? Invent the basic sketch of the premise and the new characters? Just today I saw him credited in an article praising season 3, and it’s my understanding that he hasn’t even touched TGF since the pilot, back before the Kings signed on.

The Kings wrote this episode, but I didn’t need the credits to tell me that. Robert directed, too, which is only surprising because I wasn’t sure if it would be him or if it would be Brooke Kennedy.

Complaining about this now before I get any farther into the episode: CBS, FIX YOUR CLOSED CAPTIONING. Someone over at All Access doesn’t believe in apostrophes and it’s driving me up a wall.

After the credits, we resume with Julius talking about Carl Reddick, founding partner of RBL and civil rights icon. Julius has to be prompted to add on that last part, but Lucca doesn’t: she read about Reddick in history books.

Lucca’s dress for the interview shouldn’t work, but she pulls it off. It has several different colors and patterns, big gold buttons, and a ruffle down one side.

Here’s Liz’s comment on her father: “When my father died, I could think of no better way to honor his life than by taking over his partnership here.” We know that’s only partially true.

Next up is Reddick’s secretary of 15 years. She refers to him as “Mr. Reddick” instead of “Carl” and seems uncomfortable talking about her experience. Jay and Marissa, who have for some reason been tasked with creating promotional materials for the firm, notice her hesitance. Marissa asks what a typical day was like, and the secretary-- Cynthia-- starts to cry.

Cut to the RBL website, which is very boring and generic. “Who are you?” a publicity consultant asks Adrian and Liz. This reminds me of two things: one, Diane and Will’s conversation in season 4 about firm identity, and two, the fact that Hitting the Fan started off with the line “You’re stable.” Isn’t that very reminiscent of this episode starting off with, “I’m happy.”?! Yikes, we must be in for a ride…

Adrian’s answer is that they are a “mid-size Chicago law firm.” Really? That’s all you’ve got? The consultant pushes further-- he wants their story. Liz says their story is that they’re growing with new hires and a new floor. The consultant isn’t happy with that, either, because he seems to believe there’s only one right answer: they’re an African American firm, and that is their entire identity. Ugh.

When TGF first started, RBK felt like a firm that had an identity and a mission-- a commitment to giving black lawyers opportunities for success in an environment where no one would be a token, coupled with a strong focus on civil rights cases (particularly police brutality cases). I assumed that was the shared goal of Carl, Adrian, and Barbara, but the firm’s gone through enough changes that I’m willing to accept that RBL might now be struggling for an identity. Carl’s dead, Barbara was always the one who would actually put her money where her mouth is (sorry, Adrian), Diane is (as always) interested in being profitable while looking like a liberal legend, and Liz accepted partnership because it was a lucrative offer that fell into her lap right when she lost her job at the DOJ.

Adrian says he doesn’t want RBL to be sold as an African American law firm. Hasn’t he pitched it as such in the past?

“Diversity is in right now. Black Panther. Black-ish. And diversity is something you have in sp-- in abundance,” the consultant says. My God, he’s terrible. He’s also using “diverse” and “black” as interchangeable words.

Adrian gets a reprieve when Jay and Marissa call him out of his meeting, but it doesn’t last long. Cynthia, Carl’s secretary, told Jay and Marissa that Carl repeatedly sexually assaulted her.

“He forced her for 15 years? Why would Cynthia stay for 15 years?” Adrian asks incredulously. “Seriously?” Marissa replies. Woah there. I agree wholeheartedly with Marissa but just because I’d write “SERIOUSLY?” in a recap doesn’t mean I’d ever say it to a name partner with that tone! (But really: Marissa’s very right. “Why would she stay?” is a terrible argument. Cynthia had bills to pay and a family (or at least a daughter) to care for. She likely didn’t have the luxury of looking for a new job. And that’s setting aside the fact that for decades, language around sexual assault wasn’t widely known!)

Adrian asks Marissa and Jay to keep quiet, and Marissa pushes back, asking if it’s so they can cover it up. Marissa! You’re not helping your cause here!

“Marissa, I don’t have the luxury right now of being outraged. That doesn’t mean I’m not outraged,” Adrian explains.

In the hallway, Jay suggests that Marissa give Adrian (and Carl) a break, since the Reddick name brings in half of their business, and if Reddick’s name becomes toxic, the firm could be in trouble. “Well, then, maybe it should be,” Marissa responds.

I loooooooove Diane’s new hairstyle! It’s been ten years; it’s time for a change.

Diane is about to head into the office when she notices Kurt went hunting the previous night with a gun he hates. And to make matters worse, there are blonde hairs on his jacket and Kurt won’t admit he went shooting with anyone. Well, I guess Diane’s happiness didn’t last very long at all.

Maia has a scratched cornea, so she’s wearing big sunglasses. “I wouldn’t wear those when you meet with the partners,” Marissa says, planting a bad idea in Maia’s mind. The sunglasses take two seconds to explain, and no one is going to fault her for this. If Maia didn’t get fired for not doing any work over a two year period, she’s going to be just fine wearing medically-required sunglasses to an internal meeting.

Julius wants to talk to Maia and explains that on the new website, they’re adding associate and partner bios. They just might not be adding Maia’s. “Don’t take it as a criticism. You’re doing a great job,” Julius says. This is basically the only circumstance in which I understand giving Maia praise: trying to keep her from causing a scene by stroking her ego.

Since Maia took off her sunglasses, she now appears to be crying. Since Maia lacks common sense, she does not explain why she is crying, leading Julius to keep heaping on the praise and explain the obvious (it’s about her parents’ scandal). Maia says she understands and that “this is all medical.” THAT’S SO VAGUE, MAIA. You’re looking for the sentence you just said to Marissa: “I have a scratched cornea.” I know this moment is supposed to be funny. It just makes Maia look impressionable (she took off the glasses) and slow (she can’t easily navigate out of this situation when the exit route is obvious). I already think Maia is both of those things, so I’m not complaining about this scene (I did laugh!), it’s just… Maia, why???

Julius is so confused by Maia’s odd reaction that he goes straight to Lucca’s office. Lucca is pumping and doesn’t care who sees, because she’s the fucking best. Julius asks Lucca to talk to Maia about the website.

Diane’s still thinking about the hair when she arrives at RBL. Marissa greets her with an empty mug, I mean, with coffee. Diane asks what Adrian wants to talk to her about, and Marissa says, “I’ve been told I speak too much, so I won’t handle that.” If Marissa weren’t so good at her job she’d need to watch out.

Marissa tries to join Adrian and Diane’s meeting, and Adrian slowly closes the door in her face. Marissa walks away. I love it when this show emphasizes that their main players aren’t all of equal status at the firm, and this episode does a fantastic job of showing it.

Adrian explains the Reddick issue to Diane. He’s (wisely) chosen to go to Diane before Liz about this.

Adrian’s plan is to have Cynthia sign an NDA, and now there’s a “Good Fight Short” to educate us about NDAs. God, this show is weird and I love it.

“Think they’re maybe always in a red folder but I didn’t do my research that well” cracks me up.

“Let’s try to count all the red folders in the show today. You know what who cares just pay attention, put your phone away,” the song continues. Okay, show, I’ll listen to you and put my phone (on which I’m watching this show) away and go run my errands. That’s what you wanted, right?

A storm rolls in as Adrian and Diane pay Cynthia a visit. Thunder is dramatic, in case you were unaware.

Adrian tells Cynthia he knew nothing about Reddick’s behavior. He reaches for the NDA a little too quickly and Diane slows things down.

Adrian promises they’ll have sexual harassment training moving forward. Cynthia reminds him that they’ve always had that-- but partners never attended. Or, apparently, remembered that it existed.

Diane and Adrian hear pots and pans banging in the kitchen and realize that Cynthia’s daughter is home. That complicates things because the daughter anticipates the NDA and doesn’t want her mom to sign.

When Cynthia leaves the room, Adrian comments to Diane that “this house, it reminds me of my aunty’s house.” Diane just smiles, probably because that’s a reference she can’t understand.

The partners hold a secret meeting without Liz, which is certainly a way to handle this but probably not the optimal way. Liz should know what’s going on before any NDAs concerning her firm are created.

Liz notices that the offices are empty, and asks Marissa (who’s walking past) where everyone is. “I have no idea. I’m just staying on the sidelines today,” Marissa says unhelpfully. Great attitude. Very professional. As you’d expect, Liz is not satisfied with that answer.

Downstairs, the MANY partners of RBL are debating next steps. Why do they always pack these partner meeting scenes with so damn many extras? How many partners am I meant to believe they have?!

As we learned in the Assholes to Avoid episode, the most interesting thing about #MeToo is that it’s controversial and leads people to talk over each other. That’s what’s happening in this scene, but it works far better than the show’s last attempt at showing this idea. Unsurprisingly, when they have more to say than just “controversial topic is controversial” they do better.

And, I’m not sure where to put it so I’ll just say it here, I think the Kings have more to say about #MeToo, and a new (and better) angle on it because it hit closer to home. This plot isn’t a reenactment of what happened with Moonves, but the ideas it explores? Once you think about Moonves and the role he had in bringing TGW to life (and keeping it on the air), it’s all you’ll see. This plot is the Kings reckoning with how to move forward and create distance after a powerful man in no small part responsible for their own success turns out to be a serial harasser.

And that’s so much more interesting than “what if we took the Aziz Ansari thing but removed all nuance?” TGW, and TGF, wouldn’t have existed without Les Moonves. I’m pretty certain I’ve heard the Kings and Julianna-- and probably other cast members-- speak glowingly about him (before the allegations, obvs). He allowed TGW to flourish (and TGF to exist, which is kind of amazing when you think about it) while also enabling sexual assault all throughout CBS.

The reason for this meeting? Now they want to pay Cynthia off. Diane suggests letting the story surface, emphasizing that Carl did good things and bad things. Diane also, wisely, notes that if they pay someone off, then it becomes the whole firm’s problem. But it seems they might have already paid someone off, so it’s too little, too late. RBK had, in 2012, agreed to cover all of Reddick’s sexual harassment suits. (This is, apparently, “standard” for CEOs, barf.)

I’d still like to dig into Diane’s “just own it” idea a little more, but I do see why the other partners (the ones who were actually there for the bulk of the time Reddick was) shut it down.

Then Wendy, the stenographer, speaks up: Carl Reddick assaulted her, too. If there are two, there are more than two, and I’m surprised that Liz is the first person to suggest this.

At home, later, Diane scrolls through Netflix (not a streaming site, this is Netflix’s layout with different shows), unable to decide what to watch. I’m sad to report none of the fake shows are any fun, and none of them are Darkness at Noon. I guess Darkness at Noon is probably on AMC All Access, behind a paywall…

Kurt arrives home and asks what Diane’s doing. “Figuring out whether to watch a German series about serial killers or a Scandinavian series about serial killers,” Diane replies. Haven’t we all been there? That’s scrolling through Netflix in one sentence.

Diane has “helped” Kurt pack for a trip, and THANK GOD, she’s not kicking him out (that’s how scenes where the husband arrives home to find his bags packed always go). She’s passive-aggressively packing for his upcoming trip she discovered on their credit card account.

Kurt’s going on a safari. Diane says she doesn’t shoot anymore (I guess since 2x10?) and wants to know who Kurt’s going with. Shouldn’t Kurt be telling Diane if he’s going to go on a safari?

Kurt senses something’s up and asks what’s wrong. Diane says work has her thinking about “men.” Then she tells Kurt she doesn’t think he’s being honest and says she doesn’t like pretending to be the “cool wife who overlooks lies.” Is “Cool Wife” a variation of “Cool Girl” and if so, can we get a Gillian Flynn novel about it, please?

Finally, the truth emerges: Kurt isn’t hiding an affair (though Diane briefly suspects he’s seeing someone named “Holly Westfall” again… idk, have we ever heard that name? Nothing’s coming to mind, because Kurt never cheated on Diane and Peter’s trial never happened.). He’s giving private shooting lessons to 45’s sons.

My GOD, Diane’s reaction.

I love how every time Diane says “safari” she says it with a little more disbelief in her voice.

Kurt says this is just a job; he’s being paid. Can he take someone else’s money then? How strapped for cash is he? This is like the “we’re defense attorneys!” line Diane always goes back to. SURE, but you don’t have to take EVERY case to be profitable.

Diane proceeds to start BANGING HER HEAD AGAINST THE WALL, REPEATEDLY. This scene is simultaneously comedic, dramatic, and ridiculous and I love it. I’m not sure how it manages to feel far-fetched and also character-driven at the same time, but hey, it works.

Diane storms out, saying she’s going to do something she should’ve done nine months ago: conjure up space bugs. Okay, no, she’s making contact with her FuzzyFuzzyCuteCute friend, but she’s doing so in a way that involves moving lots of flowers to her windowsill, and THAT’S HOW YOU DRAW IN THE SPACE BUGS.

In case I haven’t said it enough times, TGF in some ways seems more like it’s a continuation of BrainDead than TGW.

Diane talks to Tara and asks her to break her NDA (some legal nonsense) and come forward with allegations that 45 paid for her abortion. Tara asks Diane why now, and Diane’s answer is kind of bullshit: “because now it’s personal.” And it wasn’t before?! And that matters?! (I believe it from Diane, but come on. You need it to be personal to fight this as hard as you can? The fact that this administration’s policies are having catastrophic effects on families isn’t enough?)

Adrian finally shows Liz the interview with Cynthia, and Audra McDonald could win an Emmy for her reaction shots alone (I can’t say enough times how pleased I am with the addition of Liz). Adrian draws the curtains of Will’s office, I mean Liz’s office, to give them some privacy. Good move.

Liz wants to know if Adrian knew, and she has good reasons to believe he might have. For one, when they were married, Adrian asked how her parents were doing-- suggesting they might have reason to not be doing so well.

Liz goes into her bathroom (first time we’ve seen this set, though we’ve obviously known it existed from ~Willicia sexytimes~) (Not to derail this recap entirely, but does anyone else ever wonder how Willicia would’ve played in this day and age? I wouldn’t consider it assault or harassment because it was obviously consensual, but I don’t know that you can do a boss/employee romance plot as easily today as you could in 2011.)

Liz, through tears, confesses that her father didn’t always treat her mom (or “us”-- I assume meaning Liz and any siblings she may have) well. She’d always rationalized it as the part of “sharing him with the world” while he was “fighting,” but “he was just here.” God, this is devastating, and this scene is spectacularly done.

Adrian tries to comfort Liz, but she realizes something: Adrian put in the glass walls. She wants to know why. Was he trying to force Carl to be more transparent about something? Liz remembers her dad complaining about the glass walls. Adrian says it was just a design choice. Liz doesn’t believe it, but she’s moved on to other things. She’s putting on her jacket and trying to decide her next move. She angrily opens up the curtains even though she’s about to leave her office (just to show that she values transparency) and marches down to the partner’s meeting.

Everyone quiets down when Liz walks in. She grabs a notepad and a chair and begins to take an active role in negotiating payouts. Julius mentions Wendy, and Liz didn’t know about Wendy yet. Her reaction? A long pause, and then: “My dad raped the stenographer?”

Have I mentioned yet that Audra’s great? She delivers the line with a fantastic blend of anger and resignation. And I love the line itself, particularly the use of the word “rape.” Aside from Cynthia’s daughter, Liz is the first person in the episode to call Carl’s actions what they are, and it’s meaningful to hear the word from her. Liz isn’t shying away from what her father did; she is trying to figure out how to name it and address it. Pretty remarkable.

Liz volunteers to make the deal with Cynthia. She immediately begins to ask Jay for help, but she thinks again and goes to Marissa instead (and says “rape” again) to find out if there are any others. Adrian and Diane should’ve had Marissa on this yesterday.

LUCCA!!!!!!!!!!

Sorry I’m just happy to see Lucca Quinn, who is the best and does not get nearly enough screentime. Because Lucca is the best, she’s meeting with the partners. She thinks something must be wrong-- that she’s about to be fired (no!!! I don’t even like thinking about that!!). But nothing is wrong. “In fact, consider this a promotion,” Adrian says. He offers Lucca the position of head of divorce law. (What are the odds we get through this arc without a cameo from David Lee?)

People who know more about the law than I do, is this even remotely plausible? Shouldn’t this be Lucca’s specialty if we’re going to see her head it up? Have we ever seen her on a divorce case?

The guy they had hired to head up divorce law had “harassment issues at his last firm.” “And that’s a problem these days?” Lucca jokes, not knowing just how bad her timing is. No one else laughs. (I! Love! Scenes! That! Show! That! Some! Of! The! Characters! Are! Junior! Staff!)

Lucca does not seem to want this promotion, but she realizes she’s being told, not asked.

Meanwhile, Maia’s spending her work day staring at the company website. Adrian stops by to see her (guess Lucca didn’t talk to her) and console her about the website. Maia now chooses to explain her scratched cornea. She doesn’t explain it clearly, so Adrian continues with his speech. “This is not a reflection of how we feel about you. It’s a branding thing.”

I suppose the same could also be said of the fact that the main poster for this season of TGF features Diane, Adrian, and Lucca when the first two seasons had posters featuring Diane, Maia, and Lucca. Maia adds less value, to the show and to the firm!!!!!

(I don’t hate this Maia plot, I just think it’s silly and unnecessary, and Maia’s still done nothing to prove to me that she’s interested in her job and/or good at it.)

“You keep up the good work,” Adrian says. Forget good work. What WORK?

The partners fussing over the website has made it a Big Deal for Maia, and now she’s pissed! Luckily, Marissa’s there to teach her how to be a badass.

“I’m a third year associate, and they are treating me like I was hired yesterday,” Maia fumes. Well, are you doing the work of a third year associate, or are you doing the “work” of a new hire who hasn’t yet been staffed on projects and just stares at the company website all day? Hmmmmm?

Marissa blames this on “the curse of short people.” Is Maia short? She’s never seemed short. Rose Leslie is, according to Google, 5’6”, which is hardly short! Then Marissa starts rambling about “the volcano of Vulcan” and, whatever, Marissa, I think Maia’s problem is that she has scumbag parents, not that she’s short.

Marissa’s advice-- which is basically to be more confident-- isn’t bad advice. But that’s not why Maia’s not on the website. Maia could be Lucca levels of incredible and her name would still look toxic on the website.

Maia’s so awkward she makes me look confident.

Marissa commands a “tall lady” not to wash her hands after using the bathroom and what, that’s gross, why are you doing this Marissa?

Marissa has a gift for Maia: Sunglasses that are “cool.” Marissa then breaks the doctor-approved sunglasses. Seems… unwise.

New, cool Maia gets a theme song and a leather jacket. She makes quite an impression on the image consultant in the elevator, and he asks her out. She rejects him. Ha ha.

Liz and Jay head to Cynthia’s next. They remember meeting each other before. Liz mentions the NDA, and Cynthia responds, “Your father wasn’t a bad man.” “I don’t understand how you can feel that way after everything that he did,” Liz replies.

Liz seems like she’s close to getting a signature on the NDA when Naomi Nivola, the reporter from 2x05, appears at her door asking about sexual harassment. Cynthia’s daughter tipped her off. I’m very happy to see Naomi again, not because I think she’s a wonderful character but because I thought Adrian’s “starfucking” excuse was too weak of a conclusion to her plotline last season. I’m almost glad to know she still holds a grudge, because it doesn’t let Adrian off the hook for some shitty behavior. Adrian isn’t Carl Reddick levels of disgusting but he’s done some troublesome things (and the way he talks to the female characters is a little condescending, no??)

(I went to re-read my thoughts on 2x05 and Naomi as I was writing this, and apparently I said I thought an episode about NDAs as they relate to #MeToo would be interesting. Hah!)

It’s still raining.

“I’ll talk to Naomi, find out what she knows,” Adrian decides. “You?! No,” Liz replies. Adrian actually asks why not!!!

Liz goes to settle with the stenographer next, and, again, she insists on doing it herself.

Maia is holding an NDA and sitting out at one of the associate desks, surrounded by a bunch of black men (does the firm have female associates?). Maia’s holding a red folder, and while that should mean she’s working on a case, she probably just picked it up because it was BOLD LIKE HER. What are work files if not accessories to make you look badass?

Maia’s also got her feet up on the desk. YOU’RE AT WORK, GIRL.

Julius asks Maia to move her feet. “Yeah? What do you need?” she replies. Julius is too stunned to actually play rank. Maia takes this as a victory. She shouldn’t. She can do this once, maybe twice, before it stops being cute and confusing and starts looking like what it is: an entitled white girl acting out and being disrespectful. If she wants to create distance from her parents’ scandal-- the actual issue here-- then she needs to be mature and develop a plan to work around it. She could, for example, take on lots of charity work and write an op-ed about deciding to help turn her dad in, and what she’s learned about the world from having her world crash down. Acting out in designer boots, red lipstick, and sunglasses is going to make Maia look like the oblivious child of privilege she is.

Why does this show insist on saying that Maia’s biggest weakness is her lack of boldness? She’s just awkward. She’s plenty confident. She just expresses it poorly.

I know this is a comedic subplot but Maia does not really behave like a human being??? Who would have that interaction and then feel self-satisfied? This is her place of work!!! She looks ridiculous!! She just talked back to a partner!!

Wendy doesn’t want to sign the NDA, and she doesn’t want any money. She says she’ll never tell anyone, because “there are so many people who want to destroy men. Black men.” And she doesn’t want to be a part of it. Interesting perspective, not one I agree with but one I’m pleased the writers included because it adds some nuance to the episode’s exploration of #MeToo.

Naomi and Jay talk in a not-very-interesting scene that includes some weird and unnecessary close ups of Jay. Main takeaway: Naomi thinks it’s Adrian who assaulted Cynthia.

Don’t really get why it’s great that Naomi thinks it’s Adrian. I suppose she’s a good enough journalist she wouldn’t publish a story there was no evidence for, but Adrian being able to deny it without lying hardly seems like cause for celebration. And would Naomi really drop it if Adrian said he didn’t rape anyone?

Eric and Don bailed on the safari, so Kurt’s still around. He winces when Diane hugs him, and Diane doesn’t let it slip. Kurt, being Kurt, says nothing is wrong.

He goes to the bathroom, and Diane’s phone rings. It’s Tara saying she won’t come forward.

Diane joins Kurt in the bathroom (lots of scenes in bathrooms this ep) and notices he has a huge bruise on his shoulder because Eric or Don shot him. We don’t get to find out-- and neither does Diane-- because Kurt’s signed an NDA about the incident. HAHAHA!

Adrian has his interview with Naomi. He denies they’ve asked Cynthia to sign an NDA, and denies he harassed her. And that’s it, until Naomi reveals THE REAL STORY: Assholes to Avoid.

I wonder, IRL, how much this would hurt the firm. I also am still not sure why they took that damn case. 2x05 and whichever ep was Assholes (I mentioned I’m glad we’re not counting days anymore, right?) annoyed me more than basically any other s2 episode because they were tied up so neatly, so I’m happy to see both cases come back to complicate things.

Now shit gets weird. I assume this next scene is one of the “soliloquies” the Kings mentioned that the season would include, and I like the idea more than the execution. The characters taking turns verbalizing their inner thoughts in eloquent speeches to no one? Sure! I’m down! Diane suddenly beginning to talk to a Trump-shaped bruise THAT MOVES AND TALKS in the middle of an episode? I’ll just say I hope they’re not all like this.

“The footman to the king. I am married to the footman to the king,” Diane starts. Then TrumpBruise talks back (don’t love this impersonation). I think this would work just fine as a monologue, and I definitely don’t need the animation. I couldn’t see it the first time through and the episode was better for it.

Anyway, Diane’s upset that Kurt’s become a worthless servant to a family she loathes, and she connects this to her ongoing thoughts on the State of Masculinity.

“What has happened to men? Where did the real guys go? Why do we now have these snide little creatures with slicked-back hair and cologne? What happened to Paul Newman and Burt Lancaster? What happened to men who were slow to anger and responsible and who didn’t cry like whiny little bitches? When did Trump and Kavanaugh become our idea of an aggrieved man, quivering lips, blaming everyone but themselves? You’re not fit to kiss my husband’s feet. A truthful man, uncomplaining, never passing the buck, never punching unless he’s punched. When did he become the exception?” Okay. But toxic masculinity is not a new thing. This isn’t insightful enough for me to applaud it and it’s not offensive/wrong enough for me to actually want to dissect it. I like that the show’s taking risks and like the soliloquy idea but this is… meh.

Bruise starts talking about how happy he is. He’s taunting Diane (well, technically, Diane is criticizing herself) because she was happy earlier, and now she’s not and this asshole Bruise is sooooo happy.

So Diane’s solution is to leak Tara’s abortion. Interestingly, she imagines TrumpBruise calling her out on breaking Tara’s confidence. Implying that Bruise has a conscience (or enough savvy to push her buttons), even one fueled by Diane’s imagination, feels weird to me. Diane’s imagining Bruise has a conscience?!

FRANCESCA IS STILL AROUND!!! My wish to ditch Colin and keep his mom came true!

Francesa is singing “I Wanna Be Sedated” to her grandson. Of course she is.

I’m unclear on a few things with this scene: who is Francesca talking to? Does Francesca know them? This must be Lucca’s house (?) if Francesca is leaving and taking calls for Lucca, but why does Lucca have a land line, and why would a client be calling her on it?

Francesca has an Instagram. God, I would love it if that account existed.

Lucca’s baby is really cute. What’s the kid’s name? Is it Joseph?

Francesca tells Lucca she’s the perfect divorce lawyer. Anyone else feel like we missed a scene or three with this Lucca/divorce law plot? Why would Francesca say that? Does she know about the opportunity? Was Lucca working divorce cases and doing great? MORE LUCCA NOW.

Maia’s still wearing her sunglasses the next day (unclear if this is for medical reasons or because she doesn’t know when to just stop). She’s sitting in on a meeting of the partners about the new Assholes scandal.

Adrian says they need to get their story straight, that they didn’t know they were taking down the site. That’s blatantly false, and Maia speaks up to say so. Adrian says they didn’t. Um, they did. Julius asks Maia to step out, and Lucca, who has a seat at the table, defends Maia. Julius says “this should be a partner thing” and Maia gets up to leave. Lucca, who is also not a partner unless we did, indeed, miss multiple Lucca scenes, asks Maia for her opinion.

On her way out, Maia says RBL should “own it. Our client wanted us to take down a #MeToo site. We didn’t agree, but we took it down. Because we’re that good.” Meh. That’s really the only way out of this. But as a client, I would not be reassured by that, especially not if I had brought my business to a firm specifically because of its values.

Adrian takes Badass!Maia’s advice, word for word. And it works. This particular client also wants to know who Maia Rindell is. He typed in ReddickBoseman.net instead of .com (but WHY) and it landed on a “really really cool” page about Maia.

Liz and Adrian immediately go to find this cool site, and Adrian shows how hip he is by typing a url in the search bar. What pops up is a site with the RBL logo and several ~fashionable~ pictures of Maia and her Miraculous Sunglasses. It’s hilariously terrible. They’re not bad pictures, but it’s sooooooooooooooooo inappropriate and ridiculous. It’s also unnecessary, and I know I’m overthinking a sight gag (and it is an effective sight gag) but if Maia wanted to be on the website that badly, she could have, you know, SAID SO instead of making a fucking website.

Lol @ Maia staging a photoshoot at the office. Why wouldn’t she?

The website has the tagline “younger-tougher-smarter”. Well, one of those things is true, and you all know which one it is.

Cynthia’s back, in the office, to sign the NDA. She does.

Marissa’s prepared her research on Carl Reddick. She leaves it with Liz, in a green folder.

Diane goes to Naomi with Tara’s story. We don’t hear her tell it, so there’s a chance she thought better of it, but omg, how shitty, Diane!!!!!

Liz and Adrian share a drink. Adrian says he did suspect that Carl might have been having an affair, he just never thought it was assault.

“Your dad was really good to me, Liz. He’s the reason I have a career,” Adrian explains. “Me too,” Liz says, raising her glass. Damn. I don’t think those words were chosen unintentionally. Lots of layers to this scene.

Adrian decides to lighten the mood by mocking the image consultant. Liz, who’s wearing heels similar to the ones Maia was wearing earlier and has her feet up just like Maia did, comes up with an identity for the firm: “We’re a firm with no past. Not anymore. We’re starting over. That’s refreshing.”

Then they toast to Peter Florrick’s State’s Attorney campaign slogan/the writer’s perpetual favorite phrase: “New beginnings.” But it’s still storming, and the folder with all of Carl Reddick’s past misdeeds is sitting feet away. Dramatic!

As the credits roll, there’s an actual count of all the red folders in the episode. Heh.

I’m very on board with this season so far. Can’t wait to see what happens next!

Couldn’t all the episodes of this show (and TGW) be called The One About the Recent Troubles, though???

#the good fight #tgf thoughts #i feel so out of practice. what are words and how do i make them go together?!

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