| popplagið | :distortreality:
Title: Hemorrhage : Frank
Rating: PG
Fandom: Donnie Darko
Summary: He wonders when he stopped being Frank the Man and became Frank the Manipulated Dead.
Frank remembers, clear as day, when everything opened up before him.
Remembers when he ceased to be Frank the Man and became Frank the Manipulated Dead.
Remembers everything just coming to him, what he needed to do, how he needed to do.
(....lead him down the rabbit's hole)
(make him believe)
(pay attention to everything)
(save us all)
He doesn't remember when he blended into just Frank the Manipulated Dead, even after everything was fixed.
He just was.
Title: Hemorrhage : Donnie
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Donnie Darko
Summary: He wants to tell what he knows.
In comes in his dreams.
«his hand closes around the wood of the hatchet and milky white eyes watch him calmly, tells him he has to do this»
He can't decide or figure out what it all means.
«he has a can of spray paint, and when frank's mouth moves, he writes in perfect tandem, comprehending and at the same time utterly confused»
He knows what he's doing, but at the same time, he doesn't. It comes and goes, comes and goes.
«cherita looks away ashamed at sean and ron's words and suddenly he knows that despite it, she'll be okay, she'll be fine after all this, so he says nothing»
And when he knows?
When he knows, he suddenly wishes that he could just open his mouth and spill his secrets, one by one. Open his mouth and let the black ink of words, things he only knows come out, let everyone see them. He wants to watch the words slip like ink onto the floor, spin out and collect on the ground. Let them help him figure out Frank's plan, let them complete the puzzle with him, so he won't be so, so alone.
But then, he isn't alone, not really.
They're all there, but they don't know it, will never know it.
And it's better that way, for him to solve it by himself, because he knows only he, only he will believe.
And that's what Frank wants, right?
One believer in a sea of hypocrites, liars, confused people.
One believer is all it takes.
Title: Reminder
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Donnie Darko
Summary: Frank likes to keep up appointments.
He smiles.
DONNIE.
"Yeah?"
Franks says nothing else, just looks down at him in his dreams, gears spinning behind him, numbers ticking and tocking. He turns and Donnie moves to follow him.
The clock is built like a person: there's a spine made up of gears and copper wires and Donnie thinks that he can hear a small girl singing a psalm in one and another he hears Hitler's voice among a heard of gasmasks, children behind him. He looks up and the arms are made of bones, some new, some old. All have clocks: old grandfather clocks heaving and heavy, twinkling pocket watches wrapped around milky white femur, new, bright watches he doesn't recognize with glaring light and even a sundial, broken and crumbling like the bone beneath.
He looks to Frank, but there's no reflection in his eyes.
Frank turns and Donnie is startled when he can suddenly see a light reflected in his right eye, bright red. The hairs at Donnie's neck stand straight up, he can see a gun in his hands, angry, sad, calm, cold, GretchenGretchenGretchen, oh god, Gretchen---
DON'T BE SCARED.
He blinks and the clock has instantly decayed.
All the bones are crumbling, collapsing. The gears don't turn anymore, the clocks have all stopped.
Donnie squints.
The clocks weren't all on the same time, were they?
Frank lowers his head, and cold comes up Donnie's spine. How long did Frank say? How long?
DON'T FORGET, DONNIE.
"Donnie!"
He jolts awake, eyes wide. Samantha stands in front of him, trembling and terrified.
"Wh-What...?"
"You're bleeding, Donnie," Samantha whimpers.
Donnie lifts his hand and finds a cut on his index finger, circular and oozing blood.
He scares Samantha as he laughs hysterically.
Frank was funny.
Rating: PG
Fandom: Donnie Darko
Summary: He wonders when he stopped being Frank the Man and became Frank the Manipulated Dead.
Frank remembers, clear as day, when everything opened up before him.
Remembers when he ceased to be Frank the Man and became Frank the Manipulated Dead.
Remembers everything just coming to him, what he needed to do, how he needed to do.
(....lead him down the rabbit's hole)
(make him believe)
(pay attention to everything)
(save us all)
He doesn't remember when he blended into just Frank the Manipulated Dead, even after everything was fixed.
He just was.
Title: Hemorrhage : Donnie
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Donnie Darko
Summary: He wants to tell what he knows.
In comes in his dreams.
«his hand closes around the wood of the hatchet and milky white eyes watch him calmly, tells him he has to do this»
He can't decide or figure out what it all means.
«he has a can of spray paint, and when frank's mouth moves, he writes in perfect tandem, comprehending and at the same time utterly confused»
He knows what he's doing, but at the same time, he doesn't. It comes and goes, comes and goes.
«cherita looks away ashamed at sean and ron's words and suddenly he knows that despite it, she'll be okay, she'll be fine after all this, so he says nothing»
And when he knows?
When he knows, he suddenly wishes that he could just open his mouth and spill his secrets, one by one. Open his mouth and let the black ink of words, things he only knows come out, let everyone see them. He wants to watch the words slip like ink onto the floor, spin out and collect on the ground. Let them help him figure out Frank's plan, let them complete the puzzle with him, so he won't be so, so alone.
But then, he isn't alone, not really.
They're all there, but they don't know it, will never know it.
And it's better that way, for him to solve it by himself, because he knows only he, only he will believe.
And that's what Frank wants, right?
One believer in a sea of hypocrites, liars, confused people.
One believer is all it takes.
Title: Reminder
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Donnie Darko
Summary: Frank likes to keep up appointments.
He smiles.
DONNIE.
"Yeah?"
Franks says nothing else, just looks down at him in his dreams, gears spinning behind him, numbers ticking and tocking. He turns and Donnie moves to follow him.
The clock is built like a person: there's a spine made up of gears and copper wires and Donnie thinks that he can hear a small girl singing a psalm in one and another he hears Hitler's voice among a heard of gasmasks, children behind him. He looks up and the arms are made of bones, some new, some old. All have clocks: old grandfather clocks heaving and heavy, twinkling pocket watches wrapped around milky white femur, new, bright watches he doesn't recognize with glaring light and even a sundial, broken and crumbling like the bone beneath.
He looks to Frank, but there's no reflection in his eyes.
Frank turns and Donnie is startled when he can suddenly see a light reflected in his right eye, bright red. The hairs at Donnie's neck stand straight up, he can see a gun in his hands, angry, sad, calm, cold, GretchenGretchenGretchen, oh god, Gretchen---
DON'T BE SCARED.
He blinks and the clock has instantly decayed.
All the bones are crumbling, collapsing. The gears don't turn anymore, the clocks have all stopped.
Donnie squints.
The clocks weren't all on the same time, were they?
Frank lowers his head, and cold comes up Donnie's spine. How long did Frank say? How long?
DON'T FORGET, DONNIE.
"Donnie!"
He jolts awake, eyes wide. Samantha stands in front of him, trembling and terrified.
"Wh-What...?"
"You're bleeding, Donnie," Samantha whimpers.
Donnie lifts his hand and finds a cut on his index finger, circular and oozing blood.
He scares Samantha as he laughs hysterically.
Frank was funny.