Has anyone thought about how Remmick's proposal for a vampiric, colour-blind utopia looks a lot like an updated version of the plantation myth?
The plantation myth was the idea pushed by supporters of the confederacy, and indeed was perpetuated in their literature, that enslaved people used to live happily with their slavemasters, and that they had better lives then as opposed to their existence as free people in the postbellum south. This idea that black people were somehow better suited to subjugation than freedom shares similarities with Remmick's vision of his new vampiric world order: in his horde, all the turned members of the Clarksdale community are subject to his leadership; their memories are his to pillage, their languages and cultures are his to appropriate. Yet Smoke & co, and by extension we the audience, are supposed to believe that it's one big happy family? That the black people (and that one Chinese dude) he turned are happy with their subjugation?
Idk maybe I'm reading too much into the text but at the same time............it tracks with the idea of Remmick's vampirism as an allegory for assimilation and a false sense of freedom.
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꯳⃘꤫⃛͡ 643 words, smut/explicit sexual content(18+), grief, emotionally charged sex, unprotected sex, soft dom vibes, oral (f), missionary ->folded legs, light dirty talk(kinda), crying during sex, ect꯳⃘꤫⃛͡
For anon<3
18+ 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓓𝓸 𝓝𝓸𝓽 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽
The door clicks shut behind them.
Smoke watches Annie from behind. She moves like her body’s heavier than usual, like she’s carrying every sharp edge of the past inside her chest.
She doesn’t say a word as she peels off her jacket, but she doesn’t stop him when he walks up behind her. Doesn’t flinch when he wraps his arms around her waist, or when his lips brush the edge of her shoulder.
“You okay?” he asks low, voice rough from the fighting the pain and all the years between them.
“No,” she says plainly. “But I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
That’s all he needs.
She turns in his arms, looking up at him like she’s searching for something she won’t say out loud. Her eyes are worn, rimmed red. She’s been holding it together for too long.
He kisses her like he remembers the taste of every time they didn’t work out. Her mouth is warm and soft, but there's no patience behind it — only teeth and breath and the ache of too many things left buried.
When she tugs his jaket off, he lets her, lets her see all of him — the bruises, the cuts, the old burns across his ribs. She traces one with her fingertip.
“You’re still so fucking reckless,” she murmurs.
“And you’re still so fucking beautiful,” he breathes against her mouth.
Her inhale stutters, but she doesn’t argue. She just pulls him by the hand to her room and climbs onto the bed without a word. He follows, jaw tight, eyes locked on her like he’s afraid she’ll disappear mid-blink.
Annie’s on her back, hair tangling against her pillow, top twisted from the way she took it off. No bra. Nothing underneath. Legs parted just enough to make his throat go dry.
“Take off your pants, Elijah.” she whispers, voice low and breathy. “I need you.”
He swallows thick and obeys, slow, undoing his jeans with eyes still on her. His boxers drop, his dick heavy, already hard. She lets her eyes drag down, lets him feel the weight of her stare.
“I missed this,” he says, crawling between her legs. “Missed you.”
“Then show me.”
He lowers himself, chest against hers, lips finding her neck. His fingers slide between her legs, finding her wet and hot and aching. She gasps, arching into him.
“Fuck, Annie…” he groans. “You’re soaked already.”
“It’s not fair,” she breathes. “You make me like this every time.”
“Good,” he mutters. “Gonna take my time before I even fuck you.”
He slides down, spreads her thighs wide, hooks them over his shoulders. One long lick up her center and her back arches. A sharp gasp leaves her lips.
“Fuck—Elijah—”
He hums into her, tongue flicking over her clit in slow, deliberate strokes. She squirms, moans shamelessly, gripping his hair and grinding into his mouth.
“Tastes like you missed me,” he murmurs against her.
“Don’t stop,” she whines. “Please, just like that—”
Her thighs twitch. He flattens his tongue and licks long and slow, then sucks her clit with a gentle pull until she cries out, legs clamping around his head. Her orgasm crashes through her like a sob, and she’s shaking, whispering his name like it hurts.
He kisses her through it, lips wet, face flushed. Then he moves up her body, lines himself up, and pauses.
“Tell me this is what you want.”
She reaches between them, wraps her hand around him, guides him to her entrance.
“I need this, Smoke. I need you.”
He sinks in slow, inch by inch, forehead pressed to hers as she gasps under him. Her legs lift, wrap around his waist.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “You’re so tight, baby—fuck.”
He rocks into her, deep and unhurried. She bites her lip, lets out a low, breathy moan.
“Harder,” she whispers. “Don’t be gentle. I can take it.”
So he gives it to her. Hips snapping harder, rhythm deep and steady. The bed creaks under them, her moans turning louder, more desperate.
“Annie,” he grits, one hand cupping her cheek. “You feel like home.”
She blinks up at him, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “Don’t say shit like that if you don’t mean it.”
“I do mean it,” he grunts, thrusts deep and slow, burying himself to the hilt. “You’re everything I ever needed, even when I didn’t deserve you.”
Her voice cracks. “I still love you.”
He freezes for half a second—then fucks her harder. Folding her legs to her chest, pushing deeper.
“Say it again.”
“I still love you,” she moans, clawing at his shoulders. “I never stopped.”
His rhythm stutters. A strangled moan falls from his lips. “I love you too,” he says, voice shaking. “Annie—I love you—I—”
She pulls him down, kisses him messy and wet while he fucks her deep and rough, her name falling from his lips like a mantra.
“Gonna cum,” he growls. “Fuck—gonna fill you up—”
“Do it,” she pants. “I want it—I want all of it—please—”
With a choked groan, he slams into her one last time and comes deep inside her, hips jerking, face buried in her neck as he spills everything he’s got.
They stay tangled, breathing heavy, skin slick, hearts pounding.
He stays inside her, head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat like it’s the only thing anchoring him to the world.
She strokes his hair, soft and slow. “We’ll never be okay,” she whispers.
Oh don’t get me STARTED on what people are saying about Annie, I’ve seen so many people say shit like “did anyone else think that she was his mum at first?” HUH?! Let’s unpack why that was your first assumption babe because literally how and why. It was one of the sexiest scenes I’ve ever seen, and she’s one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.
and if i say there is historic racism tied to the portrayal of dark skinned plus sized black women in media that is influencing the way people view annie…just KNOW i see it
hands down people are CRAZY and that woman is fineeee
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4 weirdest takes I've seen from Sinners audiences so far:
Remmick is a White Coloniser (he's an Irishman who would've been killed by the klan at the time if they knew his ancestry; nevertheless yes he was still perpetuating the colonial, imperialistic violence that he'd suffered from against native and black communities he didn't belong to. racial violence begets more racial violence because of the way the system is set up to incentivise oppression.)
Remmick was building a liberal, egalitarian community (he was forcing marginalised black and Chinese folks to assimilate into his "post racial" world order where whiteness - as a cultural hegemony - subsumed all cultures)
Remmick wasn't speaking Chinese (Toisanese was one of the many Chinese dialects used especially in the Delta region)
Mary is a white woman who can't be trusted (she was what was historically called a mulatto*; the whole point of including her character is to comment on the anti-miscegenation laws that were still in place at the time of which she's a victim) (*) edit: actually since she's got a black grandfather, her mom's a "mulatto" and she would be considered a "quadroon"; much thanks to those who corrected me in the replies
I need more viewers especially WASP viewers to get educated before they open their mouths
Why the song "This Little Light of Mine" shows up in the score twice
Can't believe I just realised that the little tune Sammie sings in the 2nd post credits scene is a blues variation of the hymn from the opening church scene.........
By placing this scene at the very end, the film is showing us that Sammie ends up choosing neither just the blues ("devil's music") or strictly christian traditions (the hymn), but an amalgamation of BOTH of them: combining his father's faith and the African music in his ancestry into one. Remember what he sings in that surreal montage scene? See [he's] full of the blues, holy water too. He embodies how both strands of black history are inherited by black Americans.
I'm not sure if I'm reading this right, considering what cultural Christianity represents in this film (as far as Remmick's character is concerned: it's a force of Anglo colonialism). But it's possible to take this scene as a reflection of the role black churches and gospel music play in black american culture at large - how despite its history as a site of colonisation, it's nonetheless inseparable from parts of black history.
