Finding_Reality

Just sharing my thoughts about things in general (mostly films). Occasional FFs or poems. I love Game of Thrones!

[intp-as-fuck]

Spock: I am incapable of that emotion.

Kirk:

[c3rvida3]

Bad News: Our boss locked the keys inside the building.

Good News: We didn’t have to wait around for a locksmith.

Bad News: My boss finds it very concerning that I know how to pick locks, and tried to unlock my Tragic Backstory™. I was too embarrassed to admit that the reason I learned was because, at thirteen, I figured that was the kind of skill that would impress cute girls.

Good News: A cute girl saw me do it.

Bad News: It was Maggie, and since she’s already seen me fall out of several trees, cry because I saw a fawn that was just too damn small, and knows I can ride a unicycle, she’ll never think I’m cool no matter what I do. It’s too late. She knows.

[onlinemultiplayer-deactivated20]

[rikkatrueeye]

#lifegoals

[it-could-be-a-lot-worse]

[keysofshadowandlight]

Ain’t it so? R.Queen on Tumblr R.Queen on IG

[rikkatrueeye]

Basic Instinct

Can we just admire for a second how after all, the actual plot is never truly revealed? I love how it’s not a straight up ending, but you as the viewer are left to think about it... What an amazing movie indeed.

“I'm not going to confess all my secrets just because I have an orgasm." -  Catherine Tramell 

[rikkatrueeye]

GoT x LotR <333

[rikkatrueeye]

(via Image tagged in game of thrones,arya stark,game of thrones arya,when)

So gonna use this! :’DD

[halfprincesshalfgoddess]

[rikkatrueeye]

haha true 

[rikkatrueeye]

Anton Chigurh

One of my favourite movie villains. I remember how scared I was when when watching NCfOM, and I’m a solid horror movie addict xD. The fateful coin, was it, huh? ^^

[rikkatrueeye]

Life After Beth

Just watched it, totally in love with it. Zombies, a fucking hilarious humour & Dane deHaan in one movie! Love it!

[rikkatrueeye]

To Linger To Serve

The flimmering air, the rising heat, the burning soil beneath my feet, my soles are sore from sand and stone, on endless ground with endless thought alone.

I can still hear the moans inside my head, like silent echoes, lingering, undead, the burning heat upon my skin, those fingers, thoughts of bliss and sin, dark eyes, about to burst yet full of hunger, the world outside painted in black and thunder.

An heavy storm, the night has fallen, an endless starve had been upon us callen.

[rikkatrueeye]

A Thousand Suns

...it's been a while. Saw the exile. The thousands suns and sinking ships and narrow aisles.

Saw burning colours slowly vanishing and rotten, showing me images I thought were long forgotten.

The white, your eyes, the black, your mouth, the yellow, weakend hope that in you lies.

The red, regret, denial spread, decaying innocence your numbness only threat.

Had I forseen, the futures shown, the possibilities and maybe's ever known,

would I have acted different were I told? I might have left some good on my behold.

Had I known greatness in my end's approaching sound? Less blood might have been spilled on my account.

I know you liked it, always did, knew it with every sacred, sacred hit.

The heavy air of lingering accuse, increasing sound, decisions yet to do, the voices in your head, you let them choose.

You spelled the charm, I did the harm, your greed has kept me ever safe and warm.

Like my mistake, selfish you stayed, and maybe it has always been to late.

[rikkatrueeye]

When It’s Yesterday Again

Short AU Fanfic about Pietro and Wanda, and how they would struggle in real life (no directly mentioned incest tho), where Wanda ran off and tried to hide from Pietro, but he eventually finds her.

Word count: 1339

 “Drink the poison lightly, because there are deeper and darker things than you.”

– I’m not the One

I smiled as I watched Pietro take off his jacket.

I was good at smiling; I had trained for the past seven years. I’d gotten good at convincing people that everything was alright.

It was alright.

“You must be cold”, he finally commented with a look at my clothing, drained from the rain.

“Good deduction, Sherlock.” I forced a laugh.

“Don’t worry; I’ll change into something dry right away. Anyways, want something to drink?”

He just shook his head.

I waited another moment, biting my bottom lip nervously. As no other answer came, I just turned around to go and put on some dry clothing. A few moments later, I returned, dressed in a cozy sweater and leggings.

“I’ll make some tea”, I told Pietro, who didn’t seem to have moved an inch.

He nodded and trailed after me into the small kitchen.

For some minutes, we just stood there, the sound of the steadily heating up water the only sound filling the sticky air.

The water began to boil, and I quickly took it off and poured it into the two cups, glad to have something to occupy my hands with.

I passed one of the cups to Pietro, and we seated on the couch in the living room.

“So, what brings you here?”

He looked at me thoughtfully.

“I heard about Charlie.”

“Oh. Well… I’m thankful for your concern, but I’m alright. It’s already been about a month, you know.”

It wasn’t meant to sound like an accusation, but I could see a hint of guilt flash in his eyes.

“You didn’t contact me or anything.”

I laughed nervously.

“I didn’t mean it as an accusation, honestly.”

“Well, I did.”

I looked at him, confused.

“I’m sorry, but…”

“You should.” His narrow eyes had darkened, and his lips were pressed together tightly.

“What?”

He approached quickly, suddenly grapping my wrist roughly, holding my face with his other hand to prevent me from avoiding his look. He captured my eyes with an unreadable, dark blue gaze fixed on mine.

“You know how hard it was to find out this address?” I could imagine, but I didn’t want to provoke him anymore.

“Well, I’m sorry for your efforts, but…”

I hoped for him to interrupt me, but he waited for me to continue.

“Uhh… You know… This isn’t really any of your business, is it?”

He stared at me in disbelieve.

“I really can’t take this. How dare you say this isn’t any of my business? How dare you? How dare you even look at me so guiltlessly and self-righteous after abandoning me and just leaving without even a note?!”

I felt the heavy amount of guilt which had built up in my chest these last months rising again, compressing my lungs, making me feel dizzy. I freed myself from his grip and stared at the beige blanket spread on the couch, determined never to trust the depth of his eyes ever again.

“I thought I made it clear”, I finally murmured.

“Made it clear? That you’re the worst fucking whore on this entire planet? Yes, I’m pretty sure you did. But that’s not what I’m curious about.”

I didn’t respond to that. I swallowed hard. I had always hoped I could avoid this.

“That it’s over.” I whispered, unable to look up.

For a second, it was quiet.

Then, suddenly, he was at me again, pressing my body against the thick fabric of the couch and his lips against mine.

Something collateral exploded in my chest, and I felt nothing and all the same. My mind stopped working.

It took me about a second to respond.

I lifted my hands to grip a handful of his soft brown hair, letting my other hand slide down his neck. I opened my lips to grant him further access, pushing back demanding at the same time.

It was a messy kiss, teeth against teeth, roughly and wet, filled with all our confusing and hurt.

It was perfect, and as my hand unconsciously started to rip off the thin fabric of his shirt, I could feel heat rising in me.

Pietro abruptly pulled back, making me come back to my senses.

We were both breathing hardly, trying to calm down. Pietro’s hair and clothing were all messed up, and I could see a deep bitterness engraved into his facial features.

A humorless, cynical laugh escaped his lips.

“You’re right, it’s totally over. There are no feelings left, right?”

I was too confused to respond, part of me still longing to continue kissing him. I tried to say something, but failed. My mouth just hung open uselessly.

Finally, I turned around to escape the sight of his way too familiar face, but I was turned around roughly again. Pietro’s grip was tight and possessive, although still way too fond.

“I want. To know. The reason.” He hissed between tightly compressed teeth.

I felt tears rising, but I beat them down violently. This wasn’t the time to cry.

“I… I can’t tell you.”

“You can’t tell me? After all we went through, you still think there’s something you can’t tell me?”

I stayed quiet.

“The least you owe me is to tell me the truth”, he growled lowly.

I took a deep breath.

“I shall not sleep. I shall not dream. I shall not dare to see the unseen.”  I finally said, with a way too exhausted voice, letting off every word like a weight being taken from my shoulders. I knew this wasn’t right, but it still felt good, so good, to finally be telling him the truth.

Pietro looked nothing but confused.

“You know”, I eventually started to explain, “You make me fall apart.

You make me hope, you make me dream, you make me do everything I carefully prevented myself from doing my entire life, because these things have never lead to anything but pain and disappointment.

You know that, right?

You experienced it yourself.”

I stopped, but before I was able to continue, Pietro quietly added.

“So it wasn’t worth it?”

I frowned.

“All this pain we’re going through now… Don’t you think it was worth the happy hours we had together?”

“I… I think…”

“Shut up.”

I did, shocked from his curse.

“I honestly thought we had something special going on. I really thought that this love was greater than anything I ever experienced before. Looks like in the end, I’m the only one who ever did feel anything at all.”

“Pietro, I…”

“No. If you would really love me, you’d never regret having been with me, you wouldn’t have to think about it even a second, because that time we spent together was so priceless, no suffer could ever repay it.

I did never regret meeting you. Even after you left, leaving me all messed up and torn apart inside, even after all those sleepless nights spent waiting for you to come home, hoping for the door to click open, wishing for nothing but to wake up from this nightmare and find you sleeping by my side… I still never regretted it. Not for a second.”

He abruptly got up on his feet.

“I’ll better get going now. I honestly can’t take this anymore.”

He already passed half the way to the door, when he turned around again.

His face was blank, lips drawn almost disdainfully.

“Not like you cared anyway.”

I didn’t respond.

Some seconds later, I heard the door slam, and I could feel the pain of letting Pietro leave all over again.

It would be the last time.

I stared at the two untouched cups of already cooled tea on the table.

I smiled.

Everything was alright.

Everything was alright.

[rikkatrueeye]

rien que être heureux

Short I Killed My Mother FF about Antonins thoughts after Hubert is back in their school. Antonin PoV

Word count: 469

It was fun having Hubert back in Art Class.

I watched him as he was adding bright red color to his painting, his lips slightly ajar and his eyes concentrated.

I had missed him.

I had missed him so bad, I hadn’t been able to think about anything else, and now that he was back, I could unhesitatingly say that I felt like the happiest person on earth.

He certainly hadn’t missed me, though. I just knew him way too good. He surely had missed me in some way, like our make-up sessions or how he could always trust me with everything that had grown too big for him to handle.

But he hadn’t missed me the way I would miss him every time he wasn’t around.

He hadn’t missed the way we just sat together, enjoying each other’s company, neither the sight of his perfect profile, nor the way he carelessly bit his lips when trying to figure something out, or the smell of his hair or the way his gaze would swift away deeply in thought sometimes, as if he was searching for something in a faraway universe.

He didn’t love me.

I’d always known this. I knew it when we finally got together almost four month ago. I knew it when we kissed for the first time. I knew it when his mother forced him to move and attend a boarding school, and I knew it when Hubert called me and selfishly asked me to skip classes to help him escape.

Yet, I wasn’t mad at him. I couldn’t be.

I had spent the happiest moments in my life with Hubert, and even if he didn’t love me, I’d be happy and grateful just to be with him.

I smiled absently at the sight of my love, which was totally oblivious to the effect he had on others. He looked just so… perfect.

My greatest fear was for someone to steal him away from me. That was why I was never able to turn down any of his requests, why I would do anything he asked me to.

I was his servant, his whore.

Nevertheless, I wasn’t able to do anything about it. I couldn’t move an inch. I couldn’t look into his eyes and demand him to love me back. All I could do was love him enough for the two of us.

The school bell rang, but I was too deep in thought to notice it.

Hubert got up from his work and turned around, to find me staring at him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing” I shook my head.

“It’s nothing, I’m just… grateful that I got to know you. I love you.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, and a sad smile appeared on my lips.

After all, I was happy.

[rikkatrueeye]

la vérité de l’amour

Amoureux de l’amour,

on ne trouve rien que des moments brefs de bonheur.

on est intoxiqué à cette certaine mélancolie,

cette parfait doleur,

fragile, impossible à garder.

c’est l’idée qui prend notre souffle,

qui prend notre cœur.

Amoureux de l’amour,

de la possibilité,

la tentation de joie,

des bises volatiles, soufflée comme des poèmes simples,

pas crée pour rester,

une plaisir de moment, une mémoire pour être oubliée.

Amoureux de l’amour,

est-ce qu’il y a une personne au-delà ?

ou juste un corps négligeable, un point de fuite pour nos émotions ?

c’est la vérité ? est l’amour pour l’amour plus vérité que l’amour lui-même ?

c’est quoi cette vérité ? c’est quoi cette amour ?

Amoureux de l’amour,

on n’a pas des solutions,

on n’a pas de questions,

on n’a rien désir que

la douce oublie de la nuit.

[rikkatrueeye]

finding reality

It’s the idea you love.

 The bittersweet dreams of the happy times you could have.

His longing eyes in the way too short nights.

The soft, unsteady light of the street lamps above your heads, throwing deep shadows on the dirty, still hot asphalt under your bare feet.

The cool summer night breeze, like fleeting touches on your skin, and the doubtful safety of his palm in your hand.

The knowledge of his soon departure.

The way he would kiss you goodbye when leaving for overseas, and the rising warmth in your chest and tears in your eyes.

The joy when receiving another letter, and the excitement you’d feel when reading about an upcoming visit.

The nervous hours spent waiting at the airport, surrounded by stressed, quickly passing faces, the smell of cheap coffee filling the air.

The sight of his silhouette, slowly approaching, and the both painful and pleasant twist in your stomach.

 It’s the idea you love.

 And ideas were always meant to be forgotten.