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herarcadewasteland · 1 year

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His Property

A/N: Thanks to @/ghostsinthecloset for the dialogue prompt that created this! Maybe I’ll write some more parts?

Edit: I wrote a part :D His Property... Part Two!

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Kneel.”

“No. I’m not some... some weapon for you to command.”

“Not yet.”

You scoffed as you stood above the rest of your group, arms crossed in anger even though there was a dozen guns pointed at your head.

“You think you’re so special just because you’re standing, don’t you?”

The leather clad man scoffed and it prompted everyone around you who wasn’t at risk of dying to laugh at you. Your face turned red at the mockery, your boyfriend Daryl shaking his head at you as the bat that had just been used to kill one of you was pressed against your shoulder.

“And you think you’re so special just because you’re a heartless piece of shit who uses a baseball bat, that he named to kill innocent people?”

Hesitant chuckles picked up in the crowd of Saviors, Negan shaking his head and taking a few steps back to signal his men.

“Get her down.”

You struggled against the men pushing you back down to your knees, your struggles proving fruitless as you ended up back on your knees with a firm few kicks to the back of your knees.

“That’s more like it! Doesn’t it feel so much better to be back in the dirt where you belong?”

A short growl left you as you lunged forward, your leap cut short as you ran directly into the man who caused your group a boatload and a half of pain in the past few hours.

“Well if you wanted to see me closer, all you had to do was ask, doll.”, the confident smirk on his face made you want to slap it off.

You wiggled in his grasp as he turned you to face your family, his rough fingertips gripping your chin as cool metal touched your throat. A collective look of concern washed over your groups faces again as they fully realized the situation. You had just angered the man killed two very important members of your group, your family, and now you had the chance to be next because you didn’t like Negan’s attitude.

“Now, doll. I could kill you right here, in front of your friends and add one more to the kill list...or~”, he carried the ‘or’ out with a cocky smirk like he owned the world, “you can live! Wouldn’t that be peachy? But, you work for little old me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you looked to Daryl for some guidance, his head shaking minutely in dis-agreeance. He couldn’t lose you on top of Abraham and Glenn. Letting out a sigh, you look around at your family, Rick pleading you with his eyes to not just accept your death. Carl looked at you with grief, you were basically his best friend, sneaking him chocolate pudding and treats every once in a while. Everyone else held the same despair in their expressions, you were a strong member of their community, plus you had Daryl. Nothing better than that. You sighed and hung your head as much as you could with Negan’s fingers still gripping your chin.

“Okay...”, you said quietly, “I’ll go with you.”

Daryl, though expecting it, reacted immediately and jumped to pull you from Negans grasp, the knife held to your neck slicing it as you transferred holds. The both of you being pummeled to the ground by the man you remembered as Simon, Negan’s right hand man and second in command. Daryl landed on you, knocking the breath from you. You smacked his shoulder for landing on you but your moment of comedy was ruined milliseconds later as Daryl was dragged from your hold and you were pulled up and held tightly by Simon.

“Hey! Let him go!”, you shouted at the men holding down your boyfriend as Simon ran his finger through the blood on your neck.

You hissed at the sting, struggling in yet another hold of a man that was not Daryl. Negan laughed and walked forward, Lucille swinging at his side.

“This is an emotional moment, again, I get it. But that? Unacceptable. She is my property now, like the rest of you. It seems like you all need yet another reminder that I am the one in charge around here!”

Panic built up in the group again, he could kill Daryl, you or someone at random and no one could do anything about it. Again.

“Simon. Hold her arm still, get her on the ground. Hold him still too. We don’t need more deaths here today.”, Negan barked out orders and they were followed swiftly.

You struggled against Simons ridiculous muscles as much as you could but ultimately ended up on your back, arm held out and still by Simons boot pressed against your elbow. Daryl was dragged closer “for a better view” and held still by three men. It made you proud to see it took three fully grown men to hold your man still but it also worried you because you knew he was hurt in the process of getting the group gathered. Snapping your gaze to Negan, you watched as he handed a bloody Lucille to the one called Dwight. The knife that was pressed against your throat now being swung in circles as Negan got on one knee beside your outstretched arm.

“You can scream, you can cry... hell, you’re gonna be doin all that. Back to it~”, Negan ran a gentle finger across your cheek as he observed the new lack of struggle in your form.

Hearing Negan repeat his line from earlier made you roll your eyes, but you soon realized his statement may be true as the knife dug into your forearm just under your wrist. Making eye contact with the leader of your new group, you clenched your jaw as he slowly cut into your supple skin. Blood filled the rips in your skin only to be wiped away as it appeared, leaving you, Daryl and Negan to gaze past the layers of your skin to an emptiness that filled with red rapidly after each wipe. The scream that finally left you as Negan cut through your vein sent chills through everyone in the clearing, tears welling up in the eyes of your apocalypse family as they heard you scream for the first time. Daryl struggled harder hearing you scream, the men needing a fourth to hold him back as you jerked in the hold of the two men holding you still. Minutes passed, screams echoed in the early dawn and your boyfriend lost his strength, the group watching on as you got paler. Moments passed with tension, the groans of the dead that approached being silenced quickly by Saviors. Soon enough, the sun peaked at your pain from through the trees as you stared into the sky, a heavy yet proud sigh guiding your dreary gaze to meet Negans.

“You in there, Y/N? You’re truly my property now. Take a look.”

Your eyes dropped down farther to your arm, raw skin from being rubbed accentuated by the bright red ‘N’ carved into your arm. As you watched the blood drip from the letter, you heard Daryl weakly call out your name. Meeting the eyes of your lover, you blacked out.

“You can’t escape your own father. Haven’t you learnt that yet?”

You would never be his property. You swore you would never give in. Yet you were marked by him. Funny how family always finds its way back to each other.

#twd negan #twd simon #daryl x you #daryl dixon #rick grimes #the lineup #description of violence #character death #reader insert #tw gore #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #the walking dead #lucille the vampire bat #sorta funny #brave/dumb!reader #not really funny #writing this long after the draft

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nitrateglow · 1 year

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Favorite films discovered in 2022

I just noticed the immense amount of British films on the list and that’s the result of a deep dive into the British New Wave, a movement I had little experience with before. Also, the 1960s is prominent on this list in general. I didn’t realize just how many movies I watch from this decade until now.

Lawrence of Arabia (dir. David Lean, 1962)

An epic following the mysterious TE Lawrence, who served as a liasion between the Arab tribes and the British during WWI.

Until now, this film was the biggest omission in my viewing habits. I tried watching it in high school but gave up halfway through. In hindsight, that might have been for the best. At seventeen, I wasn’t mature enough to comprehend the film or knowledgeable enough about its WWI context to really get anything out of it. Now that I’ve seen it, I’m a believer-- this is a great film, perhaps the best of the cinematic epics that were so popular in the 1960s.

This is one I know I’ll be rewatching in the future. There’s just so much depth to the story and the characters. Peter O’Toole’s Lawrence is a wonderful enigma-- his performance is up there with Falconetti in The Passion of Joan of Arc. I like how the movie constantly questions the motives of its hero. We’re never force-fed the answers or told how to feel, and I absolutely relish that.

Ryan’s Daughter (dir. David Lean, 1970)

Trapped in an unfulfilling marriage, a passionate young Irish woman embarks on an affair with a traumatized English officer during WWI.

Ryan’s Daughter has a reputation as a total bomb. Every critic wailed that the film was indulgent, devoting way too much time to a slight Madame Bovary retelling. I absolutely disagree-- I thought this movie was outstanding. I was greatly moved by its beauty, by its graceful and compassionate attitude towards its flawed characters, by its cautiously hopeful finale despite all the tragedy that had gone on before. I was never bored nor did I ever feel that the film was overproduced despite the intimacy of the story.

I’m glad this one is getting re-evaluated in the years since. It deserves it.

The Black Phone (dir. Scott Derrickson, 2021)

Captured by a serial killer and locked in his basement with nothing but a disconnected phone, a young boy starts receiving otherworldly calls from the kliler’s former victims, all of whom want to help him escape their fate.

I feel like this taut little horror flick was designed to appeal to me. One-room location. A reliance on suspense and dread rather than gore and jump scares. A vulnerable but intelligent protagonist set against a ruthless villain. It’s just fantastic, a wonderful chiller of the old-school. A friend and I watched this around Halloween and we were spellbound. I wish I had seen it in a theater.

The Collector (dir. William Wyler, 1965)

After coming into a great sum of money, a bank teller kidnaps the girl of his dreams and keeps her in his basement, hoping she’ll fall in love with him.

The auteurists never gave William Wyler his due as a filmmaker. Not one to pursue the same genre, character types, and themes over and over again, all Wyler had was an eye for composition, acting, and solid storytelling-- you know, little insignificant things like that.

My sarcasm aside, The Collector is an underrated gem-- you would never guess this was directed by an old-timer at the end of his career. The most fascinating thing about it is the dynamic between the captor and his captive. The two manipulate one another constantly, keeping you guessing just how this scenario will turn out.

Darling ( dir. John Schlesinger, 1965)

An ambitious model sleeps her way to the top of the fashion world, only to encounter hollowness and ennui.

I did not expect to love the sharply satirical Darling as much as I did. Everything about the film is exceptional, but Julie Christie really shines in the lead role. Her Diana is greedy and ambitious, yet she is intelligent and sensitive enough to know how shallow her life really is despite all the money, sex, and success she encounters. She wants to be amoral, yet a repressed sense of morality and a desire for meaning haunt her incessantly. Her attempts to attain transcendence seem doomed to failure, especially since she cannot fully wean herself from the competitive, materialistic society the movie so mercilessly shreds.

Double Suicide (dir. Masahiro Shinoda, 1969)

Separated by class in feudal Japan, a paper merchant and a courtesan struggle to preserve their doomed love in spite of all odds.

This wonderful film is based on an eighteenth century puppet play. While the production uses live actors, director Masahiro Shinoda utilizes a metafictional conceit that both pays homage to the story’s theatrical origins and suggests the doomed lovers are being controlled by a fate they cannot escape-- he has black-clad stagehands “pose” the characters, put out props, and change scenery between scenes. It sounds gimmicky and pretentious, but it works beautifully, resulting in a chilling love tragedy.

Casanova (dir. Alexandre Volkoff, 1927)

The philandering Casanova gets into several scrapes across 1760s Europe, wooing beautiful women and infuriating the authorities at every turn.

Ivan Mosjoukine is one of the silent era’s most downright fascinating figures. A refugee of the Russian Revolution, he became a superstar of French cinema, appearing in a variety of projects and sometimes even directing and writing (check out the quirky as hell The Burning Crucible if you want to see just how out there his work can get). I’ve heard him described as a cross between John Barrymore, Buster Keaton, and Lon Chaney. but none of that does his unique presence much justice.

In Casanova, he plays an amorous yet mischievous and sensitive character who hops from one misadventure to the next. The movie is sumptuous, a gorgeous evocation of the 18th century. It’s the kind of movie that begs to be seen on a big screen, but even at home, the light as champagne bubbles story holds up well. Not groundbreaking-- but does every movie need to be? Hell no!

Lady in a Cage (dir.Walter Grauman, 1964)

A wealthy matron finds herself imprisoned in a home elevator when hoodlums break into her lavish house.

On one level, Lady in a Cage is pure sweaty camp, complete with a bosom heaving Olivia de Havilland and James Caan doing his best Brando impression. On another, it feels like a feverish nightmare in line with the social tensions of the 1960s, with an out of touch rich woman seeing herself as the last decent person on earth while frustrated criminals raid her house. The atmosphere is oppressive, even apocalyptic, and the ending is shockingly gory given the period this was made and the stars involved. It’s bizarre, its overheated, but it’s not easily forgotten.

Nightmare Alley (dir. Edmund Goulding, 1947)

Nightmare Alley might be the ultimate film noir. Its cynical to the very heart, yet undoubtedly poignant in its presentation of the tragedy of conman Stan Carlisle. I was reminded of another noir from the classic period, Ace in the Hole-- not necessarily from the subject matter, but from how uncompromisingly dark the story is. Even the studio-mandated happy ending actually isn’t that happy when you closely examine it. Beyond that, the cinematography is gorgeous, the acting immaculate, the direction strong-- what more could you want?

A Taste of Honey (dir. Tony Richardson, 1960)

After an interracial affair with a sailor leaves her pregnant, a young woman moves in with a fellow outsider.

I thoroughly enjoyed this kitchen sink drama despite its relentlessness. Some reviewers write it off as too miserable-- and it’s true that it doesn’t give the audience a rosy presentation of life. However, the film isn’t overly bleak in my opinion. It also takes the time to show how beauty can still exist amid sorrow and despair, particularly in the form of friendship.

I read that Audrey Hepburn was originally considered for the lead role, but as much as I love her, she would have been all wrong for the part. I cannot imagine anyone other than the wonderful Rita Tushingham-- she isn’t movie star gorgeous, and her gamine qualities uneasily mingle with suppressed anger and fear. When I think of this movie, I think of her big, troubled eyes, prominently displayed in so many close-ups. In her, I see the quiet unease of adolescence personified with a rare honesty.

The Lineup (dir. Don Siegel, 1958)

A trio of criminals track down heroin shipments smuggled into San Francisco by unsuspecting civilians. As the cops try to track the crooks down, the bodies pile up.

This is a fantastic film, among the last noirs of the classic era. Starring Eli Wallach as a psychopathic drug thug, it starts slow but really picks up by the fifteen minute mark. The whole thing was also shot on-location in San Francisco, giving it a sense of gritty authenticity.

The Blair Witch Project (dir. Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sanchez, 1999)

Three young filmmakers go into the woods to make a documentary about a local supernatural legend. It doesn’t go well for them.

So-called supernatural horror does not tend to scare me, though there are exceptions. I find the best supernatural horror is presented amidst the trappings of the mundane. After all, the supernatural is most disruptive when surrounded by business as usual. That’s what makes The Blair Witch Project so unnerving-- it feels like genuine found footage of normal people. While watching it, I thought it wasn’t that scary. Then I went to bed that night and found myself nervous of what might be lurking in the dark corners of my room. Considering the amount of horror I consume, that’s nothing to shrug off!

Tol’able David (dir. Henry King, 1921)

A young man must defend his family and rural community from a trio of thugs out to cause trouble.

Tol’able David is much beloved by silent film enthusiasts and for good reason! The nostalgic atmosphere immortalizes a rural America that was vanishing even by the early 1920s and the story has a mythic, long-time-ago feel that suits the heightened reality inherent to silent cinema. Richard Barthelmess also gives one of the most sensitive and powerful performances of his career. It might even be his finest moment as an actor.

Morgan! A Suitable Case for Treatment (dir. Karel Reisz, 1965)

Angst-ridden over his recent divorce, a young gorilla-fixated Marxist aims to win his ex back.

Yes, you read that summary correctly. This movie is INSANE yet strangely poignant. At its heart, this is a story about a man trying to come to terms with the dissolution of his marriage and his disenchantment with his own ideals-- this tale just happens to be wrapped up in an off-the-wall farce.

Isadora (dir. Karel Reisz, 1968)

Aged dancer Isadora Duncan looks back on her revolutionary career and torrid love life.

This biopic of dancer Isadora Duncan is so odd that I wasn’t sure how to take it at first. It’s told in a loose, nonlinear style, with a Proustian sensibility regarding its use of flashbacks. I tend to dislike biopics so color me surprised when I ultimately ended up enjoying this one. Duncan is not presented as a saintly figure nor as the opposite, but as a woman whose free spirit and unwillingness to compromise make her both admirable and infuriating. The script and Vanessa Redgrave’s wonderful performance perfectly bring Duncan to life, resulting in a haunting work about art as an all-consuming vocation.

The Fan (dir. Otto Preminger, 1949)

A society woman suspects her husband of having an affair, a misconception that threatens disaster for everyone involved.

The Fan is a forgotten entry in Preminger’s filmography, which is a shame because it’s a fantastic piece of work. I was first turned onto it by critic Imogen Smith, who praised it as an unsung classic and as that rare film that surpasses its source material. Considering this is adapted from an Oscar Wilde play, that’s a bold claim!

The film is an elegant comedy of manners, suffused with a strong sense of melancholy. Preminger added a prologue set in a broken-down postwar London, with Miss Erlynn trying to retrieve the infamous fan from an auction. Far from pointless fluff, this element lends a sense of poignancy to the scenes set in Victorian London. As Smith says in her review, “The frame gives the costume-drama portion a wistful edge; instead of the usual Hollywood gloss, here the past gleams through nostalgia like a flower buried in a paperweight.”

The Quiet Family (dir. Jee-woon Kim, 1998)

A family opens a bed-and-breakfast in the mountains, only for every one of their guests to die horribly during their stays. Concerned about how this will affect business, they hide the corpses... but the corpses just keep piling up.

This movie was later remade in Japan as The Happiness of the Katakuris and until I came across The Quiet Family on Freevee, I was not aware there even was an earlier version. Katakuris is basically a live-action cartoon musical, making The Quiet Family seem more sedate by comparison, but don’t be fooled. This is still a bizarre dark comedy and in some ways, I actually prefer it to the later version. It’s very reminiscent of Hitchcock’s The Trouble with Harry, only with a far higher body count.

The Northman (dir. Robert Eggers, 2022)

A Viking prince seeks to avenge his father’s murder. Yeah, it’s basically Viking Hamlet.

After Hayao Miyazaki, Robert Eggers is easily my favorite living filmmaker. His films truly transport the audience to other times and cultures, embracing how alien such an experience would be. The Northman feels like an old legend brought to life, incorporating supernatural elements in a mysterious way, never overexplaining them, just as you would expect in an old story. The film’s universe is brutal yet beautiful, never relenting. I saw this one opening weekend in the theater and let me tell you, you could have heard a pin drop by the time it got to the finale. Easily the most intense experience I’ve had at the movies in a long time.

Night Must Fall (dir. Karel Reisz, 1964)

A psychotic killer works as a handyman for an elderly landlady and her estranged daughter, and ends up manipulating the affections of both.

I don’t care what the critics say-- I love this bonkers movie. It’s an uneasy combination of quaint, drawing room thriller and trendy, sociopolitical new wave character study, and not everything about it works, but it hasn’t left my mind since I first saw it. It’s what I think remakes should actually try to be-- not an exercise in “member berries” or a shallow modern day dress-up of old material, but a bold re-imagining.

Onibaba (dir. Kaneto Shindo, 1964)

Two peasant women who loot the corpses of samurai to get by are torn apart by an amorous man and a supernatural mask.

What a creepy film! It’s one that really puts the rug out from under the viewer: at first, it seems like a typical period drama, but the supernatural subtly invades the story, leading to a truly chilling conclusion. But this isn’t a story where shocks and blood make up the horror-- it all comes from the messed up dynamic between the characters.

What were your favorite film discoveries in 2022?

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