#v: the liberated monster

[karlsanada13]

Best JRPGs for Android

The library for JRPGs on Android has been getting bigger and better every year. If you recently bought a new phone and want to try some of the best JRPGs for mobile, then do not worry, we consolidated a list of the best and must-play JRPGs for Android users.

Link: https://www.gamersdecide.com/articles/best-jrpgs-android

#final fantasy vii #genshin impact #chrono trigger #dragon quest v #tower of fantasy #the world ends with you: solo remix #disgaea 1 complete #chaos rings III #romancing saga re;universe #monster hunter stories #another eden #valkyrie profile: lenneth #shin megami tensei liberation dx2 #fire emblem heroes

[nyaskitten]

Hey, don't you find it fucking TERRIFYING that people in other countries also have to fear the results of the U.S. election, because the most popular Republican and Democratic candidates are both pure fuck evil, tyrannical genocial monsters with no remorse? But yeah sure "Biden is a great guy, let's just IGNORE that he can bypass Congress to kill Palestinian women, men, children, elders, etc, and not to codify Roe V. Wade! We swear he's actually fairly liberal!" No Biden is a fucking monster, a remorseless demon. He has no intent of ceasing aid to Israel until Palestine, and anyone else that Israel deems a threat, is gone. Get that through your thick fucking skull, bludgeon it in if you must, Biden is not a great guy, nor a "lesser of two evils," he's TREMENDOUSLY evil, he's just nice about it.

EDIT: THIS POST IS NOT MEANT TO CONTRIBUTE TO THE DOOMERISMS OF "NO GOOD CANDIDATE!!!" This post was a vent first and foremost! There are other candidates we can push to the primaries, not just Biden!

#free palestine #end the occupation #ceasefire now #fuck israel #fuck biden #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #raine's rambles

[dutiful-wildcraft]

Pack 141 - Fae!Soap Headcanons

Tags: monster au, Fae!Soap, poly 141, sfw, fluff, general lore, Soap's mom? for a minute at least, fae lore I roughly researched.

-Soap's mother was a stubborn and superstitious woman. When her baby boy was born with a caul over his face, her heart seized with dread. She had been told stories, how it was lucky to have a child able to see beyond the veil. How the caul signified a great power, coveted by the people of the forest. Her only babe, marked as Fae. 

-They would come for her child, steal him in the night and replace him with another. And it would be a cold day in hell before Jill Mactavish let anything touch her son.

-She slept with the bundle clutched tightly in her arms, refusing to sleep until she left the hospital. Left him wrapped snugly to her front as she hammered iron railroad spikes into the corners of her property; hung horseshoes above her doors, sprinkled fine lines of salt around every doorway and window of her home. 

-She thought it had worked. At least for a while. But the Fae are persistent if nothing else. Jill began to notice strange flowers pop up around the foundation of her home, odd tapping rhythms heard in the night. Would she know? Would she know if the lamb in her arms was replaced with another?

-She was so exhausted, worn thin from paranoia. Yet Jill Mactavish was no quitter. Under the light of a pale full moon she marched to the edge of her property. Her blue eyed bundle cooing and gumming happily at his fingers as he wriggled against her chest. With a final look to the boy she faced the forest with a stern resolve, “You won't take him! But I'll share him! Leave us be or help me raise him right!” 

-The winds rustled, branches creaking ominously. Leaves gathered and spun into a tornado of color in the chill autumn air. Jill would freeze in place as the leaves fell away, revealing an ethereally beautiful creature before her. All high cheekbones and sharp eyes surrounded by inky black sclera. 

-Ordinarily the Fae would swap out changelings, snag the babe once it was the right size and replace it with one of their own. Considering the wee one was already Touched….perhaps a swap would be unnecessary.  Human mother's were coveted. The milk of human kindness and all that, and the babe was truly beautiful, destined to be strong. The fae had looked Jill up and down with a calculating look. Yes. A deal could be struck. They would raise the baby together.

-And thus Soap spent his time in equal parts amongst the Fae and humans, learning to socialize with both, though he didn't completely fitting in with either. Soap was hell on wheels. Rambunctious and equally curious, constantly nosing or getting into things he ought not have. Not that he was ostracized by either group he was just..*odd.* Unable to find his footing or close friends.

-You could say that Soap has many siblings, though this term is used liberally.  By human technicalities Soap is an only child (his mum's baby boy). His mother, through the nature of her bargain,  was brought into the fold with young John. Helping to raise and nurse her own gaggle of fae children of differing bloods. Other children Soap would call family.

-Fae don't have strict family dynamics, it's certainly a community effort to rear little ones. Fae children can be produced in a myriad of ways, with no one way being seen above another, p in v? that works. Born from a flower? Sure why not. Throw some herbs and intent together until a wailing babe sounds from the cauldron? That works too.

-Soap naturally inquired about this, as any kid would. “Ma? Did I come from a flower?” “You came from my belly wee one” Soap had squinted at her, eyeing her belly incredulously, "but how?”

-It took several conversations to get the toddler to understand that the other children in his human primary school were not in fact his brothers and sisters. 

-As humans are fascinated with the Fae, the Fae are equally as fascinated by humans. As John grew into a young man he would see the differences. The Fae courts had long fallen into a peaceful rhythm. The humans? Hardly. With a powerful knack for chaos, among other abilities. Soap threw himself into the army. Keen to help as many as he could, and perhaps even find his own way. 

-Soap is a marked child. He is more resilient on average than most Fae, and shows no obvious limitations in what disciplines he can learn. However, as marked he does have particular dispositions toward the following.

-Tongues, the ability to speak any language at will. Sometimes without thinking about it. For Soap this isn't automatic, but after a few days of listening or studying he's fluent. (Albeit with the accent). This gives Soap a peculiar edge when working with varying communities, elements, and other critters/creatures.

-Glamour, a sophisticated illusion, these may allow for invisibility or changes to appearance for a brief time (upwards to an hour but possibly longer depending on the severity of the change). Living amongst the Fae made permanent changes to his body. The sclera of his eyes had shifted inky black. His teeth and nails razor sharp. There is an ethereal beauty to all Fae as well. Naturally Soap uses this ability to cover some of the obvious issues.

-Soap knows he's distracting. He's a proud thing, and rarely bothers shifting that. He's damn good at what he does and looks damn good doing it. Hshows off his muscles/skills/looks without shame. 

-Shapeshifting, self explanatory, but only works proportionally give or take a few inches. He may take on the appearance of another person or creature, briefly. But once again, only appearance. Mimicking voices is another skill.

-Sight or Clairvoyance, this ability's range depends on the court or bloodline. In Soap's case, his visions will occasionally come to him in dreams, these being more sophisticated visions or events far in the future. These visions are generally more detailed.  He is typically privy to smaller prophecies,  glimpses of events happening minutes before him. These are typically vague, but have consistently been enough to save his and his teammates asses numerous times in the field.  The Infamous Mactavish Intuition ;)

-Soap is one hell of an alchemist, and can make due with most natural items at his disposal. Poisons, potions, explosives, you name it, Soap can make it. He excelled remarkably in the maths and sciences in school, and it’s why he was also quickly assigned to demolitions so long ago. 

-Soap has a very noticeable smell. One that isn't exclusively detected by other supernatural beings. Any human standing beside him would notice it. Lemon and shortbread, with a warm curl of rose.  Clean, green and vaguely sweet. People wonder if his callsign was from this fact rather than his prowess on the field.

-Nudity has no taboo with the Fae. Raised as such, the man has literally no shame. Soap Mactavish has been naked since he was a child in the woods, and will continue to proudly do so. Does not understand why everyone else is so uptight about it. Will bust in on someone in the shower without a second thought. “Stop screamin’ it’s just me”

-Fae are very partial to music, and Soap is no exception. He is so easily captivated by the sound, swaying slightly, almost as if hypnotized. Soap isn’t as in tune with artists and genres as Gaz is, but he keeps a hoard of songs on his phone. Gaz is his main contributor, keeps him well fed with playlists he makes. Playing new records for Soap as they bop around the kitchen together, playfully dancing or headbanging together.  Soap was once pretty proficient with piano and guitar at his mam’s encouragement. His singing however, nearly got him killed in basic. 

-Many animals are the watchdogs of the Fae. Soap has been seen having conversations with himself, unknowing to onlookers that a little frog or squirrel was sitting beside him. Someone swears they saw a mouse crawl out of his tac vest once. He whistles with the birds, scoops up bugs and plops them back into the weeds.  He unfortunately doesn’t know the language of the shower spider. He doesn't bother to learn, he thinks he prefers the silence in this instance. 

-Soap can be attracted with a myriad of things just like any other fae. Music as mentioned above is one. He is also partial to pretty chimes and bells, running water, shiny and/or colorful displays, as well as anything sweet, candies or sweet creams/milks/liquors.

- Too much contact with iron on his bare skin will poison him.  Fortunately most weaponry constructed now is made of more synthetic material. It can be noticed that Soap is very particular about his gloves, and is rarely seen without them on. Iron on properties or above doors won’t exactly stop him, but it is incredibly uncomfortable and will lead to sickness if he is trapped within such a ward for too long. 

-Fae, like crows, are enamored with jewels and other shiny objects, less of a weakness really and more of a distraction. Soap, prior to his enlistment had several piercings, such as his ears, and brow…among other things. He was very fond of the adornments, and easily captivated by the shiny displays on others. (This also extends to his intense love of blowing shit up and watching the sparks fly, big ole hearts in his eyes as the colors dance)  In the event the team goes out for something special Soap will throw on a few pieces for fun~ 

-Soap can not lie, at least not directly, however Soap is a very sharp lad, and has learned to cleverly navigate around this by either not telling the whole truth, letting others assume, or simply not correcting misconceptions. He is a Fae afterall, being clever is his specialty.

-Customs of love and marriage vary among the Fae. Many Fae interpret strong love as variations of servitude, especially towards human mates.  Soap has gotten himself tangled between both of these versions of love. For Soap love is servitude. Not something to be expected of his lovers, but from him. Soap gives himself to his lovers willingly, He wants to be good, give them anything they want and let them take what they need. Love is worship, and Soap is a very devoted man.

-Soap and Gaz had bro’d up as soon as they spotted each other. Having seen through each other's glamours, they became fast friends. Two oddballs fighting side by side. Which would turn into playful banter, and kips on the helo leaning against one another. Then to wandering hands and desperate kisses, having found comfort and fondness in each other after years of hiding themselves among humans. Soap and Gaz are the most cuddly. Johnny likes to lay sprawled in his Sphinx’s nest, his arms curled around his middle, face buried against Gaz's stomach. Both of them absolutely hate to sleep alone. 

- Soap had a knack for getting into trouble. Disregarding orders to do what needed to be done. Had nearly been kicked out had his skills not saved his skin (and countless others). It was Price who sniffed him out, offered to take the man on loan for a bit. Soap's former CO was happy to be rid of him and hopeful that the notoriously stern Captain would knock some sense into him. Price, however had no such plans, he cut Soap loose, full authority, and watched the man bloom. Price did not anger at Soap’s decisions, didn’t flinch at his savagery in the field. In fact, Price had looked upon him with fondness (and a fair amount of exasperation). He kept Soap warm with lovely praises and a regular morning coffee, plus a heavy splash of sweet cream, for good measure.

-Simon had been more difficult, adamant on giving the Fae a hard time. Having seemingly been put off by Soap ever since he bounded off the truck and fist-bumped his arm on the tarmac. But Soap was determined, chatting and teasing, unphased by the lieutenants' icey behavior. They fell together in no time. Soap nestled to his chest, lips brushing over Simon's slow beating heart. Soap would never admit it. Never admit that he knew it would be like this all along. That Soap had seen him in his dreams.

#wondering if i should do one for my oc too #monster au #pack 141 #poly 141 #poly task force 141 #fae!soap #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #soapghost #captain john price #soapgaz #pricesoap #soap x gaz #soap x ghost #soap x price #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #soap mactavish #soap cod #soap call of duty

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Late Bloomer" (pt 1 of 2)

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x female reader

Tags: human trafficking, dark!Lloyd, significant undefined age gap, older man/younger reader, daddy/girl, dub con with significant non con elements, first time, innocence kink, loss of virginity, exploitation, dacryphilia, size kink, dumbification, misogyny, squirting, forced orgasm, p in v sex, light degradation, pet names, oral sex: m! and f! receiving, sexual awakening, age play vibes, little!reader, but not really: she's just drugged and really really dumb.

Word Count: 5754

Summary: After a job, Lloyd suddenly finds himself with a veritable spoil of war in his bed. She's tearful, virginal, sweet, and dumb. He's really going to enjoy guiding her through her first sexual experience.

A.N.: The age gap is left undefined. The OF is not the girl from the movie, which I haven't seen. I don't write characters as explicitly younger than 18 on Tumblr, after having a foul staff member equate any and all teenage pairings with CSAM.

That said, this fic is dark. It was started as a way to check off some of my hardest Bingo squares without actually going there, with the themes that were outside my wheelhouse or too ick for me to write. My MCU Kink Bingo card in particular, has a few of these whammies.

He imagines her as a rose: fragrant and velvet-soft. Imagines crushing her in his hand, plucking her petals off one by one, until there's nothing left.

Lloyd's always loved ruining pretty things.

The job doesn't go quite as planned, but Lloyd can be a go-with-the-flow, adapt-to-the-demands-of-the-moment type guy when he needs to be, he gets creative, and in the end it all works out alright.

The not-insubstantial bounty for the Russian perverts is regrettably forfeited when he loses his temper and gives them the brutal executions that they deserve. But that money can be made back if he finds a buyer for the yacht, he's managed to eliminate a few deplorables, and he's gained himself an unexpected prize, to boot.

Not a bad day for doing crime.

They shove the bodies overboard and retire for the night, headed for their rendezvous with the Powerbroker in Madripoor. Lloyd's men handle the cargo, already under strict orders not to touch the younger ones, whom Lloyd figures he'll arrange to have dumped off at an embassy once they dock in Jakarta.

Maybe he'll call up The Nomad Formally Known as Captain America and tip him off. Asshole has been on his tail annoyingly much, these past few months. Lloyd should send the righteous old fossil a reminder that there are way bigger scumbags plaguing the planet than his little band of hired guns.

The older girls seem relieved to have been liberated and they don't put up much of a fuss when they're divvied up amongst Lloyd's crew for the evening. Lloyd's personal pick, the poor thing whom he'd had to physically wrestle away from Yuri with a flare gun pressed right to her head, has been locked down in a stateroom to try and calm her down.

Despite what some people say, Lloyd's not an inconsiderate monster, so he does freshen up first, showering all the blowback off his face and changing into something comfortable before heading below deck. He keys in the code for the room, which is large and lavish and looks exactly like something a Russian billionaire would design. All money, no taste.

The girl's on the bed. She's still crying, but it's a pretty type of crying, rather than hysterical or snotty; tears that enhance rather than detract; the type of thing a man can really appreciate, if so inclined.

Lloyd steps into the room, takes a deep breath and reminds himself to take his time with this. No sense rushing it and wasting a good thing. He's going to savor every moment.

She squeaks when she sees him there. "Oh!"

"Shh, sh sh," he soothes. "There there now. Why're you crying, Buttercup? There's nothing to cry about. Not anymore."

He shuts the door behind himself with a gentle sound, but even though he's cooing a slew of placating nonsense at her, she still cries out in a desperate little, "No!"

"Hey, it's okay."

"Nnngh ... s-stay back!"

Lloyd's cleaned himself up since their encounter above deck, but the poor thing did just watch him collapse Yuri's face in with a pipe, so he shouldn't be surprised that she's scared. "I'm not here to hurt you," he says, then pauses when he sees that it's the gun in his hand that she's staring fearfully at.

Oh. Right. That makes sense. He'd had the muzzle of the thing pressed against her temple not too long ago, after all. Maybe he should've left that out of sight. 

It's not like he'll need it to subdue her. Moving slowly and pointedly, he sets it down and holds up his empty hands. "There. It's not even a real gun, see? It was all for show, just a flare gun. It can't hurt you."

(Eh. True, it had been for show, but not so true that it couldn't have blown her brains out if he'd wanted it to. Whatever. Details.)

"It was just a little bit of drama, you understand? To make things go the way I needed them to up there. Men like that only respond to one thing." She blinks at him and he offers her a gentle smile. "L. Hansen. Freelance contractor, or rescuer, in your case. You're welcome."

"And ... those guys?"

He tuts. "Fish food, now. They've been taken care of." He takes a step closer, keeping an eye on her in case she's thinking of bolting. She still isn't here by choice, after all. As far as she knows, Lloyd is just the least bad of all the bad guys.

(Which isn't un-true).

He joins her on the bed, where she's still curled on her side, the odd sniffle and overwhelmed hiccup escaping her here and there. "Hey, hey, hey now." He crawls up beside her and forces her onto her back, which isn't hard to do with the fragile state she's already got herself worked up into. He shushes her fearful whimpers and tucks her hair behind her ear with a tender look. "You're real pretty when you cry, Angel, but I promise there's no need. Not anymore. That's all over, okay? I've got you now. You're safe."

The sweet thing sniffles and blinks up at him through clumped lashes. "I am?" she asks, the instinctive trust in her voice making Lloyd's cock thicken in his pants as he realizes that she's got about two brain cells to rub together. "Y-you promise?"

Oh, this is gonna be so fun.

He smiles down at her. "Yeah, Cupcake. I promise. You're completely safe with me." He taps her dainty little ski slope nose with a finger. "I bought you, remember? So that none of those nasty men can ever touch you again, only me. That's the rules."

For a second, the girl's chin wobbles, her eyes welling with uncertainty and the threat of more tears. But Lloyd's had enough of her being upset, doesn't have the patience to spend half the night calming her down when he's already exerted himself so much for her benefit already. Five guys are dead, his bank account is a couple hundred grand lighter (at least temporarily), he's lost the bounty he came for in the first place, and there are going to be a fascinating array of bruises on his body by morning. All this trouble, all this work for her. He's tired now, his day is over, he wants his payoff.

"Hey," he says firmly, holding her chin between two fingers. "I said: calm down. You're safe with me. Nobody's gonna hurt you anymore. You're just going to have nice things and feel good from now on. I'll take care of you."

She sniffles. "You will?"

Wow. She really is as dumb as advertised. Lloyd hums. "Sure will, Cupcake. Only nice things. Just so long as you be my good girl and do what I want. And that'll be easy as pie, because I'll always tell you what I want."

She bites her lip and lets it slip back out slowly between the grasp of her teeth. And the best part about it is that she's not even trying to be coy: she's literally just this clueless. "But," she hedges. "... what do you want?"

He smiles down at her and palms the side of her face. "Just you, Buttercup," he purrs, arousal and anticipation making his pants tight as he takes in just how beautiful she really is, with her porcelain-smooth skin and soft jaw, her baby-fat cheeks and wide, watery eyes. She really is like a doll come to life. 

Lloyd can't wait to wreck her. 

"What's your name, Princess?" he asks, coaxing her with a kind expression that she gravitates towards. "Hm? You can tell me. I'm Lloyd."

She giggles and looks away. "That's a funny name."

"Is it?" He laughs along with her and nods. "Yeah I suppose it is. I didn't pick it, unfortunately. But I'm going to pick your name. Something real beautiful and delicate, just like you. I'm thinking some kind of flower. How bout that?"

An adorable little frown pinches in the space between her eyebrows. "What? But, my name is - "

"I know, I know," he cuts her off, already knowing what she's going to say. He sticks his bottom lip out at her in a playful pout. "But that's such a little girl's name, don't you think? We should pick something new, since you're starting over new with me. Something more ... fitting."

He lets his eyes drag up and down her faintly curved form, the body that somebody above deck decided would be best appreciated in a tiny cotton top and pair of pink panties. If it wasn't so cute, it'd piss him off: those creeps dressing her in little girl undies in their effort to hock her along with the rest of the wares. But anyone with eyes can see she's not like the other merchandise.

Lloyd trails one finger over her hip and into the valley of her waist, appreciating the particular season of life she's in. She's limber and nubile, body almost grown into itself. A still-green sapling that's not quite done taking shape, with branches that are still soft enough to be trained this way or that as she approaches womanhood. She's malleable, moldable. Ripe for the picking.

The night above deck may have ended up in violence, but Lloyd came on-board peaceably, under the guise of a buyer, and it hadn't slipped his notice that her age was pointedly left off the dossier. It means she's quite a bit older than she looks, and the sellers hadn't wanted to lead with that.

Despite the pleasure Lloyd got out of ripping those perverts' nuts off, he still knows the business, understands the concept of maximizing one's buyer pool. Sex traffickers gonna sex traffic, and all that. But even still, there's a reason he didn't mind forfeiting that bounty. He's no hero, but he's done his bit to help. Now he fully intends to reap the benefits that've fallen into his lap as a direct result of a bunch of Russian perverts also happening to be lying salesmen.

"I'm keeping you for myself," he tells her, with another affectionate tap on the nose. "You're a very special, beautiful girl."

Her eyes widen at what she clearly perceives as a compliment, and she leans closer in a way that's so honestly naive, it makes Lloyd wonder if the dealers "enhanced" her with anything, pre-sale. He won't complain if they did, he doesn't mind a braindead bimbo, but it'd be nice to know if this is all chemically assisted, or just a natural gift. The thought nearly makes him snicker when he has it: Maybe she's born with it, maybe it's Maybelline lobotomy.

"You're special," he tells her again, trailing his fingers over her bare shoulder. "A real natural beauty."

She shakes her head bashfully. "No, m' not. I'm ... plain."

He scoffs, though privately he's thrilled (girls with low self esteem always give the best head.) "Honey, you wouldn't be in this room with me if you were 'plain'," he deadpans, not missing how she shifts and glances down at her body self-consciously. "Trust me, Sweetcheeks: men don't spend the kind of money that I just did, if what they're buying isn't astoundingly precious."

She squirms and her lashes lower onto heat-stained cheeks. "I dunno," she mumbles, embarrassed as she obviously recites someone else's words: "M' a late bloomer."

Lloyd laughs. "Well hey, that's okay. Nothing to be embarrassed about, you know. I'm glad."

"You ... are?" She peeks up at him and Lloyd smiles.

"Yeah, Baby. I am. Don't you know the best part about having a flower is getting to watch it bloom?" He thumbs at the little Botticelli cleft she's got in her chin and savors the shudder that travels through her body at that, enjoying the reaction, how hopelessly vulnerable she is. "You know," he muses, turning into her more and pressing her into the blankets. "I think that's going to be your name: Blossom. Would you like that?"

"oh—"

He cuts off that small, surprised sound by kissing her—slowly. He doesn't do much with it at first, because he wants to soak up her inexperienced reactions; wants to feel her hot little gasp of surprise and the softness of her lips pressed to his, her body stiffening and then liquifying underneath the foreign touch of a man. She doesn't know how to handle it, squeaking against his mouth and pushing up against him as his body presses her down.

"It's okay," he whispers. "You're just perfect, Little one. A perfect, tender blossom." His hand migrates to her waist and digs into all of that give, violence and lust bubbling to the forefront of his mind at how fucking delicate she is. He imagines her as a rose: fragrant and velvet-soft. Imagines crushing her in his hand, plucking her petals off one by one, until there's nothing left.

He's always liked ruining pretty things.

"Please," she whispers, trembling. Fuck.

He licks at the seam of her lips and lets his hand drag over her belly while he whispers: "I can't wait to see you bloom, Little flower." Dips inside with the tip of his tongue: "Watch you open up for me." Cups her over the front of her panties: "Watch you unfurl."

"Oh." She sighs, hips juddering reactively up against his palm and then squeaking at the jolt of pleasure it sends through her. Lloyd gives her more pressure and smiles right in her face as she gasps.

"That feels nice, doesn't it?"

"Yy-yeah, but—oh! n-no ... wait, wait, I can't." Her hips kick up again and she whines at her own body's reactions. "Nnn, wait ..." Her hands grab at Lloyd's wrist where he's cupping her, but when he doesn't stop rocking his palm she grapples up at his shoulders instead, giving adorable little pushes that do absolutely nothing other than spur him on.

"C'mon Angel, none of that," he chides, slotting his leg forward in place of his hand so that he can reach up and coax her hands away from fighting him. He envelops her wrists and gently presses them into the blankets at either side of her head. And Jesus fuck, her wrists are tiny. He could hold both of them in one of his, easily. "Relax, Baby. I'm not gonna hurt you. Just want to make you feel good."

She whimpers when his clothed thigh grinds up against her core, her eyes getting watery again. "Ooh ..."

"Yeah. It's okay," he soothes, giving her another kiss, this time a little deeper, guiding her a little more while she writhes against the pressure of his thigh. "There you go," he praises, pretending that he doesn't know that her writhing is still part struggle. "See? Doesn't that feel nice?"

"P-please," she says, "I-I can't."

"Sure you can." He releases one of her wrists and laces their fingers together. "Just relax. I've got you."

"But, I've never," she cries. "Please, I don't ... I've never ... "

"Oh, Sweetheart." Though he'd figured she was a virgin, hearing her whimper it up at him so sweetly has his cock throbbing against the seam of his joggers. He nuzzles her cheek and coos, "You trying to tell me you've never been with a man, is that it?" She keens in embarrassment and he shushes her. "Hey, that's okay. That's perfectly okay."

She sniffles and squirms against him. "Nnn. But I'm not ... I-I don't know how. And you're a ... a ..."

He chuckles. "I'm a what?"

"... a man," she whispers, face flaming.

"Yeah, I am. But that's good, Honey. Dont'cha think? Every girl needs a man to teach her things, at some point. And it's that time for you."

She mewls helplessly in her throat and shakes her head, not noticing that her crotch is still grinding up on him as she does. "But what if I ... what if I can't ..."

"Don't worry," he tuts. He thumbs fondly at the damp corner of an eye until she peeks up at him. "I told you, Petal: I want to see you bloom." She colors beautifully at that and ducks her chin, and Lloyd dips down to kiss her again, not letting up until he feels her body soften to it a little bit more. She seems to realize what her hips are doing and freezes, but he just grabs her and guides her back into the rhythm, groaning when she starts up again. "There you go. Good girl."

"Lloyd ..."

"Don't be afraid. We'll take it slow, okay? I'll guide you, show you everything you need to know."

She sniffles and shivers, still teary-eyed, but she isn't pushing against him anymore. "Will it hurt?" she whispers.

Lloyd's cock gives a mighty throb and his eyes darken. "No, Blossom," he promises. "It won't hurt. Cause I'm gonna open you up real gentle and slow, show you how it can feel so, so good, okay?" He nudges her nose with his when she doesn't answer. "Tell me you understand, Little flower."

"Mmm." She's so shy, so reluctant and sweet. It makes Lloyd's cock ache worse than anything. "... Okay," she eventually whispers.

He hums knowingly and gives her one last peck on the lips before pulling back to undress. He goes slow enough not to spook her, but fast enough that he isn't drawing it out needlessly and scaring her any worse. He's prepared to hold her down if she starts struggling again, but that's not how he wants this to go. He really does want to watch her unfurl.

Her eyes widen and she stares at him with parted lips as he strips out of his clothes and his body is revealed. She seems stuck in place; a deer in headlights, fascinated and terrified—even more so, once he gets his cock out.

He angles it downward and gives himself a slow, tight tug, watching her watch him, soaking up the look of a girl who's having her first real sexual experience. She bites her lip and stares at his hand on his cock, eyes flitting between the weeping tip and his fist, his heavy sac and powerful thighs and back up again. Her brow is pinched and she keeps dragging her lip through her teeth, and Lloyd's balls ache at how tender it is to get to see her appreciating a man's body for the first time; losing this one, innocent part of herself. The very first petal to fall.

Still, he feigns ignorance with a coaxing, "You ever been naked with a man like this, Baby?" He knows that she hasn't, knows what a frightened and turned on virgin looks like. The poor thing is trembling in her skin, completely lost for what to do. Her mouth works like she'll answer verbally, but when she can't seem to make that happen, she just shakes her head a little instead.

"Mmn. Mm mn."

He nods in understanding. "Okay, Blossom. That's just fine." He lies over her again, abandoning his cock and touching the bottom hem of her little top. Fittingly, there are tiny, pale pink rosebuds printed on it. "Can I take this off?" he asks, tracing up to her ribcage and back down from over the cotton. "Hm?" He holds her gaze as he starts gently edging up the fabric. Her belly quakes and she whines nervously, but she lifts her arms for him when it's time, and he praises her with another quiet 'good girl'.

She's wearing a little bralette under the top, with lace edges and a delicate material that provides absolutely no structure. It doesn't even quite conceal the soft shade of her nipples peeking through. Lloyd groans lowly and skims his hands over them. "Fuck, Petal." She inhales noticeably at that, and he shoots her a grin. "Aw, you like that one, huh?" he teases. "My little flower Petal." he ghosts his fingers over her breasts, back and forth, until her nipples are fully pebbled and poking against the thin fabric. "So pretty," he murmurs.

She squirms, flustered, arms pressing in against her sides like she's fighting the urge to cover herself. "They're not ..." she starts, biting her lip and not finishing what she was going to say as her face flames.

"What?" Lloyd coaxes.

"Just ... they're not ... very big."

He doesn't bother to school the displeasure from his face, his eyes darkening as he growls in disapproval. It works in that her eyes pop up to him, wide and questioning. He shakes his head and lets his weight come down more, holding her down with his body and palming greedily at her little breasts. "No," he agrees roughly, rubbing and groping her. "They're not very big, are they?" He leers and pushes the little excuse for a bra up over them. "Sweet little mountain peaks," he teases. She squeaks and tries to cover herself, but Lloyd isn't having it. He knocks her hands away with a warning look. "Don't do that. I want to see you. All of you." He helps her slip the bralette over her head, tossing it aside and returning to take both of those chubby little swells in his palms, cupping and pressing them together as much as they'll go. "Jesus," he curses softly.

They're small and underdeveloped, more mound than slope, jutting out from her chest in youthful defiance. They're so innocent, so cheeky and plump. The sight of them makes that base, destructive desire surface in him again; the urge he sometimes gets to devour and claim and take, to ruin something that's so pretty and good. Lloyd wonders if that's what makes him a sociopath. "Such pretty tits," he praises, then lowers his face to seal his mouth over one, puffy nipple.

She squeaks, frightened at first, but she must be sensitive there because all it takes is one or two firm sucks and she's loosing the most gorgeous, helpless moans. Her hips kick up and Lloyd hums around his mouthful. He gives her more pressure through his thigh, pleased when she grinds up with real purpose.

"Yeah," he encourages. He pulls away and glances up from the level of her chest to find her staring at him with that same, pinched expression, but sloe-eyed instead of wide-eyed, now. Cupping the swollen tip of her breast and swiping out with his tongue, he watches as it makes her face absolutely crumple in desire.

"Ohn, god."

"See?" he says, nodding at the next uncoordinated roll of her hips. "It's all gonna be okay. Just gotta let me show you."

As turned on as she is, she still sniffles, her eyes flitting over him, afraid of what she doesn't know, unable to conceal her nervous interest. He can see her trying to look down and catch sight of his cock again, and he rumbles in approval and lets it drag against her hip. "You want to touch it?" he teases, then chuckles when she clamps her eyes shut and shakes her head with a stubborn little, uh uh. "Aw, that's okay, Sweetheart. You're shy. That's to be expected."

"M'not."

He laughs at her and gives her breast one last, affectionate kiss. "Don't lie, Buttercup. It's fine. Lots of girls are like that, you know. Nervous about touching, unsure, need to feel good before they can really let go enough and explore the way they want to. So how about ... I help you relax first?"

"Mmn." She whines and refuses to look at him. "... How?"

He sinks down her body, hands dragging over her waist and hips, holding her down with a chiding little tut when she squirms a little too much. "Shh. There's a girl." He forces her legs open and shoulders his way in there, and that's what seems to get her to still. He kisses her belly with a pleased hum, right at the top edge of the panties, where there's a tiny silk bow and green peapod detail. Lloyd groans at the sight of it and gives it a little kiss. "Have you ever had an orgasm, Sweetpea?"

"What?!" She huffs in embarrassment and tosses her head. "Noo. I, I don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” he teases.

“That."

"No?" He smirks and looks down to where there's a telling wet patch on the gusset of her panties. "Hm. You mean you don't touch yourself?" As inexperienced as she is, he still finds it hard to believe that a girl could get to her age without exploring. He places a coaxing line of kisses down the inner crease of her thigh. "Not even a little bit? Maybe sometimes at night?” 

“I … I don’t …”

“Don’t what?" He blows gently against her. "Don’t ever wake up from a dream with that tight and achy feeling deep inside your tummy?”

“Ohh.”

“Don’t let your hands start to creep down here? Don’t rub a little to try and make it feel better?"

She whines again and squirms, though it's not a fight to get away so much as it is pure nerves and embarrassment. She even seems a little mad at him for teasing her so much. It makes him chuckle and push her thighs wider so he can really get his face down there. "Oh, no. Don't pretend you haven't touched this little flower. You've closed your eyes and let your hands wander." He takes one of her hands in his and brings it down, ignoring her grunt of protest and guiding her to cup herself. Instantly, her fingers go to her clit, and Lloyd snickers. "Yes, you’ve touched. But you haven’t made yourself cum?" 

“Please,” she begs. “It doesn't work. I just … I can’t.”

“Aw, you can’t?” He pouts along with her in mock sympathy. “Well what've you tried, babygirl? Maybe you're just not doin' it right."

"Nnngh." She bites her lip and stares down at their joined hands with flushed cheeks. "I don't ... I dunno, please."

He releases her hand and pushes it out of the way. "See, that's what you need a man like me for. Too desperate to figure out how to make that itch go away by yourself. Poor, confused little thing." She makes an angry sound in protest, but it's easily subdued by another firm grab and press of her hips down into the blankets. He snickers at her token outrage. "Shh. That's alright, Blossom, that's alright. Just one more first I get to give you. I’m looking forward to it." He gives the waistband of her panties another kiss. "Girls aren't like boys, you know. You don't just wake up one morning, pulling at your pud. It's more complicated than that. You have to learn what feels good, learn how to get yourself worked up." He looks up her body and offers her a tender smile. "That's why it's important to have a teacher, Sweetpea. Someone who knows these things, someone who can guide you."

She sniffles. "You can?"

"Sure I can. Here, let's try a few things, why don't we? See what sorts of touches you like." He wants to rip her panties off yesterday, but forces himself to remember the plan of taking things slow and savoring every moment. He's only going to get to do this once, after all. So he waits for her barely-there nod, and then grasps the top edge of the panties right over that obscene little fucking peapod, and gives a jostle, gently tug-tug-tugging the fabric up against her mound, pulling it just enough to get the seam angled over her clit. 

She gasps at the sensation, a surprised little "oh!" escaping her lips.

Lloyd hums. “S'that feel good, Sweetheart?"

"Nnnh."

"Hmm. Yeah. You like a little gentle pressure like that? Are you a glancing touch kind of gal?" A few more exploratory, barely-there tugs and he can tell that she is, even though she clearly has no concept of what that means. He drops the panties and lets his fingers trail along the crease of her thigh, relishing every twitch and shiver he gets from her.

Somebody has waxed her bare beneath the fabric, and Lloyd sneers in distaste and purposefully doesn’t let himself think about why that is. "Oh, yes," he says when he sees that the wet spot on her panties has grown. "You like to be teased." She keens in protest, though she's thankfully past the point of outright denying the obvious. Lloyd rewards her with a press of his face against her crotch, inhaling and letting his nose dig into her clit from over the fabric. “Mmhm. Slickin’ right through your panties.”

"Oh!" Her hands suddenly appear in his hair, scrabbling, clutching. “Oh, oh no …”

He laughs a hot breath right against her cunt. "That's okay, Princess. That's good. I like that you’re sensitive.” He gives her one last kiss from over the underwear and then curls his fingers into the waistband. “Wanna take these off?"

"Nnoo," she moans, while doing absolutely nothing to stop him as he pulls them off her.

He eases them down her legs, gently shushing and praising her for her obedience when she lets him settle his shoulders back in between her legs after tossing the panties aside.

"Such a good girl," he murmurs, hooking one hand under her thigh to push and make room, the other sliding over her soft belly. He tugs her closer to his face, inhaling her scent and groaning at finally getting to see her.

One good thing about a bare pussy: there’s no hiding the state of it.

"Blossom," he breathes. "Look at you. You're soaked." 

She is. The delicate petals of her sex are already spread and slicked, puffy and swollen with arousal. He groans and lets his tongue dart out for a quick taste, reveling in the sweet tang of her, the way that she gasps and her belly tenses underneath his hand. She’s trembling, squirming, trying so hard not to hump up against his face, not to make noise even though it’s obviously what she wants to do. “It’s okay,” he tells her, dipping down for another long lick through her folds, nudging her clit with his nose, his mustache.

“Ohn!” she cries, but the sound cuts off into a desperate yelp at the end as she tries to silence herself. "Nnnh!" 

He makes an admonishing grunt where he’s got his face buried against her. “Hey,” he snaps, when he glances up and sees her fingers in her mouth. He knocks her hand away. “Quit it.”

“I’m not! I’m—” 

He hauls her in harshly and sucks her clit into his mouth until it elicits the squeal he was looking for, a tortured little ‘ognfuck!’ that comes from deep in her belly. He pops off with a satisfied growl. “There. Like that. That’s better.” He softens his tone when she whimpers and kisses the hood of her clit. “It’s okay to enjoy it, Petal. I know it feels good. So stop trying to hold it in, okay? You gotta let me hear you.”

“Please,” she whispers, eyes shining down at him. Fuck, the tears are back. “Please, please,”

“Please what, Princess?”

“Nnn! I – I need …”

Aaand her voice is back to warbling and overwhelmed, prompting Lloyd to grind his dick against the mattress just for a little fucking relief. This girl is sweet in every fucking way imaginable, and now she’s trembling and welling up with tears again, just the way he loves to see. Only this time it’s not in fear. She’s finally losing control of herself enough to let go and open up—unfurling for him, just like the flower he knew she was.

“Tell me, Petal,” he murmurs, tickling her with his mustache again. “C’mon. Tell me. Tell me what you need to cum. Do you even know?”

“Please, nngh, please …” 

He nuzzles her clit and laps languorously at her drenched slit, over and over, proactively tightening his hold on her hips so that he doesn’t get his nose broken when she inevitably starts bucking. “Ohn … god!”

“Mmm hmph,” he hums, having ventured out to start giving her jabs with his tongue, forcing the muscle into her quivering little gash, over and over, teaching her what a good tongue fucking really feels like. “Mmm, mmmph.” 

“Oh, please, ohn!” Her hands clamor through his hair, messing it up as she sobs and jerks, trying to get more of his tongue in her cunt. Lloyd can’t help laughing a little bit over it, breathless and turned on by how easy she is. He goes back to suckling on her clit for a moment or two, before easing off and peering up her heaving belly with a smug grin. “So sensitive,” he coos, holding her down when she thrashes in embarrassment. “Stop, stop,” he chides, laughing, climbing back up her body and pinning her beneath his full weight. 

Her legs spread for him without conscious thought, welcoming him in even as she’s still making her angry little huffs and puffs for being teased. He kisses her, amused, forcing his tongue inside to give her a taste of her own arousal. “And that was just my mouth,” he purrs, bringing a hand up to grope at one of those fat little breasts. “Was barely even inside you. Just think about what it’ll feel like with my fingers, my cock. You want that?” 

She cries out when he plucks her nipple. She shakes her head. “Nnn.”

“What? 'Nnn'? S’that s’posed to be a no?”

“Nnnh. Yes.”

He laughs. “Aw, Cupcake. I already told you I’m gonna treat you real nice, make you feel good. Now why you gotta lie to me?” He lets his hand slip down between them, cupping her between her legs. “Does this feel like a no? Hmm?” She whimpers and he smiles and shakes his head. “No, it doesn’t, does it? Mm mn.”

She’s mewling and grinding up against the pressure of his hand despite her stupid little protests, so he hums and slips a finger down through her folds, lets the tip of it tease at her entrance. Fuck, she’s wet. “Never had anything in here?” he asks, already knowing the answer before she gives another pathetic whimper and shakes her head.

“Just … just tampons.”

“Tampons, huh?” He dips the tip of his finger, in and out, gut clenching as he feels it mouthing at him, feels all that slick. “When’s the last time you bled?” he asks. He’ll grab a condom if he needs to, but he’d rather not need to. “Hm? Come on now, don’t lie to me.”

She won’t meet his eyes, but after enough coaxing she admits that she had her period just a day ago. Lloyd nods, glad that he doesn’t have to worry about protection. Not that it isn’t fun to fantasize about knocking such a sweet little thing up, but that’s not the itch he’s scratching right now. It'll be a treat just getting to watch her bloat with his seed, before that creampie slides right back out. “Okay, then, Sweetheart,” he murmurs, finger still teasing softly right at the edge of her entrance. “I want you to look at me, girl. Want you to look right in my eyes, and relax for it.” He brushes his lips across hers. “I promise this isn’t gonna hurt.”

He eases his finger in, and the tiny little ‘oh’ and relieved sigh she gives up as he does it, is everything. Her wide eyes meet his, blinking. “Lloyd.”

“Yeah.”

“I … I …” 

“Relax, Blossom.” Lloyd’s got big fingers, and she’s clamped down tight as fuck from her nerves, but she’s so fucking wet that it doesn’t even matter, his finger slipping in past the knuckle until it’s all the way seated. Her searing heat envelops him and presses onto his palm, bringing that destructive, sexual urge bubbling right back up to the surface of his mind. 

She’s the purest thing he’s ever touched, this soft, tearful, quivering creature in his hands. He’s never felt such lust and violence at the same time. He desperately needs to ruin her … and yet somehow, also desperately, he needs to make sure he doesn’t hurt her. 

A single, overwhelmed tear breaks from her eye and tracks down her temple, disappearing into her hair. Lloyd’s mouth all but waters at the sight of it, but she doesn’t seem to notice it, too preoccupied with the feeling of him inside of her body. She’s teetering right on the precipice between terrified and fascinated as she learns this new touch, and Lloyd could bust a nut just watching it.

“Good girl,” he praises, letting his palm cup her sex as he keeps his finger buried and starts to give her gentle, gentle pulses. “See? Didn’t I tell you?”

To his utter delight, she exhales shakily and nods. “Yeah,” she whispers, biting her lip and looking down her own body to where he’s touching her. “Yeah. I … it's ... you’re …" Her eyes slam shut as his finger curls. "Oh god.”

“You’re okay. Look at me.” He rocks his hand more, giving her pressure through the heel of his hand and dragging over that soft spot inside. "Look at me, Petal."

It takes her a moment, but she manages, peeking up at him with her brow pinched and moaning softly, her hips juddering up into it. 

Lloyd smiles, lines up another finger, and soaks up her expression as he plucks off that next petal.

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[asha-mage]

WoT Musing: Jordan’s talent for remembering the consequences

One of the things that sets Jordan a cut above other fantasy writers is his remarkable talent for writing consequences to the actions of characters.

Very often in fantasy writing (and also writing more generally) conflict is handled in a binary fashion: the character attempts to do something, and either succeeds or fails, usually based on where the character is in their arc, with them more likely to fail early on, and succeeded as the story progresses. The matter is then marked off as ‘resolved’ and then not revisited: arc villains are22 defeated and not heard from again, political conflicts are dealt with and then everyone is left to get along for the remainder of the story, even broad-scale problems like famine or disease are resolved once the characters have accrued sufficient power to tackle them, without much time spent on things like food rationing or actually distributing a cure.

Of course, war is the one that most often gets the shrift: battles are a matter of sufficiently clever tacticians on each side pushing around stone statues on a map, interspersed with cuts to the actual fighting and the Important Characters doing one-v-one duels with named villains. Soldiers stab each other until the evil empire’s army is defeated and said empire just collapses without a fuss, or in the more charitable cases gets conquered and subsumed by a ‘good guy empire’. All the enemy soldiers put down their weapons and surrender, (or are wiped out if their all some kind of non-human monster we don’t have to feel bad about mass killing). Sometimes a remnant will remain for a later rebel-faction subplot, but otherwise enemy soldiers just sort of....go away and bother the heroes no more once their army is defeated. Of course, no one ever has to deal with things like supply lines, camp fever, or digging latrine pits.

But Jordan man? Jordan never created a conflict, small or large scale, that he didn’t stop to think ‘what would this /actual/ mean?’. Our heroes often succeed at what they set out to do, but the fall out of those actions is often not what they expected. Defeated and scattered armies without clear leadership mean bandis plaguing the countryside, which in turn causes conquered lands to turn against Our Heroes who might see themselves as liberators, but our often viewed by the common folk as responsible for their suddenly deteriorating lives. Battles devastate the land, and send out ripple and twists in trade that are felt on the other side of the continent. The large-scale conflicts (such as the Endless Summer) that do have direct answers, (the Bowl of the Winds), still leave behind diplomatic and political strife for our heroes to contend with, as a great many groups attempt to use their new relative positions to maneuver for advantage and power. Slaying arc villains leaves behind followers that must be dealt with, when it dosen’t garner the attention of a more powerful one. Actually convincing people that their populist overlord is a evil sorcerer who took over the government through mind control turns out not to be very easy, and even when they do believe that dosen’t make them put down their self-serving political ambitions, in the name of the greater good.

And of course, all the way at the beginning, Moiraine sinks the Taren Ferry in order to prevent pursuit by Trollocs....and sparks a fear and distrust in her charges that will make the managing of them, and the guiding of Rand when his destiny does finally became apparently, a much much more difficult task. It was necessary, smart, and probably the right thing. And it still have consequences that Moiraine could never have foreseen, and maybe dosen’t even properly connect back to the incident when dealing with them.

#WoT #Wheel of Time #WoT Musing #WoT On Prime #Wheel of Time on Prime #Moiraine Damodred

[mingus-archives]

is gyeongseong creature worth the watch? i see a lot of people talk about it on my dash but im still a bit hesitant to watch it

Omg hello bloomingqwarrior! Okay so I just finished ep 9 and I definitely recommend! Now, some info that I feel may be helpful to know about my rec:

-I am a big fan of Han So-Hee from My Name so I will literally watch her eat cold oatmeal and therefore I am biased toward any action series with her

-I personally find the main characters to have a lot of chemistry. I've heard that others don't find that to be the case. For me, I think the chemistry is just different than other kdramas. Because the characters are both caretakers and living in a very hellish period in Korean history, I find that they're kind of quiet love built on respect and protectiveness to be v believable and v wonderful to watch

-There is a cgi monster (you get a hint to that in the trailer). I found it to be believable enough but I know some didn't like the look of it *shrugs*

-I've also heard that people thought it wasn't horror enough. I agree it wasn't a traditional horror movie but I think it was plenty scary and, more importantly, there is plenty in the show that is horrifying

-My biggest rec for the show is that it works phenomenally with the themes of colonization and oppression. The show is set during the Japanese occupation of Korea and the show absolutely focuses on the horror, violence, and evil inflicted upon the Korean people. Although it is fiction, the acts of human experimentation, torture, and cruelty are drawn from real history. It does not shy around to discuss Korean liberation and criticize the japanese occupation (Han So Hee and Park Seo-Joon are reportedly expecting to be banned from Japan due to their roles in this show due to showcasing the often horrible nature of the occupation).

One note, a very important aspect of the show is the switch characters make between speaking korean and japanese. Netflix english subtitles do not indicate when they are speaking each language. I was able to distinguish mostly between the languages just from watching lots of japanese and korean language shows though I don't speak either, but if you cannot def recommend trying to find a version with better subtitles lol

If you watch it please let me know!!! So few people I know have seen it and I wanna talkkkkkk

#also lmk if you have any specific qs #gyeongseong creature #han so hee #park seo joon

[ghnosis]

page 1 of dissertation prospectus bibliography is done

ALDERSLADE, Merlin. 2019. “How Ghost became the face of the new generation of heavy metal.” Metal Hammer. May 29 [online] Available at: https://www.loudersound.com/features/how-ghost-became-the-face-of-the-new-generation-of-heavy-metal 

ANZALDÚA, Gloria. 2021. Borderlands/La Frontera: The New Mestiza.  (The Critical Edition, edited by Ricard F. Vivancos-Pérez and Normal Elia Cantú) San Francisco: Aunt Lute Books. 

ARROW, V. 2013 ‘Real person(a) fiction’, in JAMIESON, A.(ed.). Fic: Why Fanfiction Is Taking Over the World, Dallas: Smart Pop, 323–32.  

BAKHTIN, Mikhail. 1984. Rabelais and His World. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. 

BENNETT, J. 2013. 'Receive the Beast’. Decibel, Issue 100/February, 75-84. 

BENSHOFF, Harry M. 2015. 'The Monster and the Homosexual.' In GRANT, Barry Keith, The Dread of Difference: Gender and the Horror Film, Austin: University of Texas Press, 16-41. 

BUSSE, Kristina. 2006. ‘My life is a WIP on my LJ: Slashing the slasher and the reality of celebrity and Internet performances.’ In HELLEKSON, Karen and BUSSE, Kristina (eds.). Fan Fiction and Fan Communities in the Age of the Internet: New Essays. Jefferson: McFarland and Company, 207-224. 

BUSSE, Kristina. 2005. ‘Digital Get Down: Postmodern Boy Band Slash and the Queer Female Space.’ In MALCOLM, Cheryl Alexander and NYMAN, Jopi, eros.usa: essays on the culture and literature of desire. Gdańsk: Gdańsk University Press, 103-125. 

BUTLER, Judith. 1990. Gender Trouble. New York: Routledge. 

CHANEY, Keidra and LIEBLER, Raizel. 2006. ‘Me, myself and I: Fan fiction and the art of self-insertion' Bitch. 31, 52-57. 

CHARMAZ, Kathy. 2006. Constructing Grounded Theory: A Practical Guide Through Qualitative Analysis. (2011 reprint) London: SAGE Publications. 

CIXOUS, Hélène. 1976. ‘The Laugh of the Medusa’. Signs, 1(4), 875-893.  

CLIFFORD-NAPOLEONE, Amanda. 2015. 'Living in the margins: Metal’s self-in-reflection.’ Metal Music Studies 1(3), 379-384. 

CLIFFORD-NAPOLEONE, Amanda. 2015. Queerness in Heavy Metal Music: Metal Bent. New York: Routledge. 

COHEN, Cathy J. 1997. 'Punks, Bulldaggers and Welfare Queens: The Radical Potential of Queer Politics?’ GLQ. 3, 437-465. 

DAWES, Laina. 2013. What Are You Doing Here? A Black Woman’s Life and Liberation in Heavy Metal. Brooklyn: Bazillion Points. 

#page 1 of 5 of my bibliography is now correctly (?????) cited in Harvard style #supes said I won't fail the comp exam over a mistake in the citations but i want to get them right NOW #for those of you curious.

[good-boy-ren]

carrd ✦ sfw selfship✦ main blog ✦ art blog

[ ✦ ] ─ ro ‣ 30↑ ‣ they / them ‣ biro ace [ ✦ ] ─ chronically-ill artist, 07th expansion enthusiast, alice hnkna kinnie, Weird Little Guy enjoyer, and oushirou’s spouse! [ ✦ ] ─ this is my nsft selfship blog. i'll focus mainly on my beloved personal chewtoy and golden retriever boyfriend oc 💕ren 💕 and his AU counterparts!! 🦦💖🐐 i also have many vn and otome game f/os -- vns are my special interest! feel free to chat with me about them ^^ [ ✦ ] ─ i block liberally. curate your online experience, peace and love on planet earth. [ ✦ ] ─ kinks / preference list, tags, f/o list, and DNI/BYF below. (i interact from @nocturne-of-illusions -- updated 18 may 2024)

credits: 1 / 2 / 3

──⌈ kinks & preferences ⌋──

💚 LOVE 💚 soft dom, hands, gloves, light bondage, orgasm control, edging, collars, toys, praise, body worship, breeding (NO pregnancy), voice, scent, panty sniffing, oral, light possessiveness, monsters, excessive cum, (purposeful) aphrodisiac, outercourse, cumming in pants, premature ejaculation 🔶 SQUICK 🔶 heavy bondage, degradation, injuries (causing OR receiving), blood (except for nosebleeds), breath play, flagellation, watersports, scat, anal, rimming, emeto 🛑 ABSOLUTE NO-GOES, DNI 🛑 raceplay, ageplay / ddlg / cgl / sexual agere, noncon / dubcon / etc, incest, pedophilia, lolisho, misgendering / detrans ⚠️ CURRENT BLACKLIST SQUICK TAGS ⚠️ "#bondage -"

[ ✦ ] ─ lmk if you need anything added to the blacklist tag list! also, if you like things on my squick list, feel free to follow -- these aren't moral stances, they're simply not my thing! if you like things in the no-go list, though... leave.

────⌈ tags ⌋────

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───⌈ top romantic ⌋───

🍄 [ lying on the blade of an emotion. ] - ♫      ¬ ren brunet (oc) [ doc!ren ] 🧃 [ who is in control. ] - ♫      ¬ ren brunet (oc, villain au) [ v!ren ] 🦦 [ can’t escape it. ] - ♫      ¬ ren brunet (oc, retail au) [ r!ren ] 🐸 [ look ahead. ] - ♫      ¬ ren brunet (oc, pkmn au) [ poke!ren ]

──⌈ primary romantic ⌋──

📷 [ phantom hearts. ] - ♫     ¬ shirogane oushirou (starry☆sky) 🦎 [ chasing starlight. ] - ♫      ¬ gray ringmarc (hnkna) ☣️ [ good in red. ] - ♫      ¬ mars (oc)

──⌈ secondary romantic ⌋──

🏹 [ purple eyes. ] - ♫      ¬ raven (tales of vesperia) 💣 [ lost in your charm. ] - ♫      ¬ sirius (starry☆sky, polestar au)

──⌈ self insert & misc ⌋──

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──⌈ dormant romantic ⌋──

🐝 [ step on bug. ] - ♫      ¬ utsuro (jooubachi)      ¬ no longer actively tagging 🤖 [ city of ghosts. ] - ♫      ¬ nika (oc)      ¬ no longer actively tagging

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[ ✦ ] ─ NO minors, period. also, this is not an rp blog; do not solicit me for nsft DMs. [ ✦ ] ─ i'm a staunch lgbtqia+ inclusionist, including mspec lesbians and xenogenders. neither zionism nor antisemitism welcome. villains are fun, but violently bigoted or fascist f/os will get you blocked. [ ✦ ] ─ i dislike the fetishization of CSA, incest, abuse, assault, etc. difficult subjects should exist in fiction, but i don't enjoy them being sensationalized or sexualized. i'm also against real person fiction.

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[whitegoldtower]

New Skyrim Oc:

Big tiefling coded man, dubbed “Son of Coldharbour”, “Angel of Vengeance”, “The Bloody Guardian”

He’s a spawn of Molag Bal, cast out of Coldharbour for aiding the souls trapped there, including Mannimarco. Incites the wrath of Molag, who throws him out of Oblivion and spits him out into Mundus to shame him. He helps vulnerable people, but also has an insatiable bloodlust, which results in him being revered as a monster.

Vampires trapped by oppressive lords and sires are his followers, invoking his name when in danger. He also seeks to cure the vampires or at the very least liberate them and thus weaken and undermine Molag’s grip on the world, because at the end of the day, ol’ Molag is no.1 on his shit list.

He seeks to dominate the prince of domination. Being a spawn of Molag, he has all of Molag’s powers, just needs to hone them and train them.

He is fuelled by wrath and fury, and what seems like hatred is merely jilted love. In a strange way, he loves his creator. Loves him enough to pulverise him.

He’s fuelled by every single one of the deadly sins, but uses them for ‘good’. He operates in a v similar way to the “dark urge” from BG3 in that if he doesn’t catch himself when he has less than savoury thoughts, he WILL act upon them and commit war crimes due to being Molag’s spawn.

As far as his personality goes, he’s VERY intense. He doesn’t even look peaceful when he’s asleep, always tossing and turning, grinding his teeth. He’s consistently angry, but tries his damn hardest to be kind to people. He will jump to your defence, is the sort of person to stand in front of a loaded crossbow and say “shoot, if you’ve got the guts”. His libido is always through the roof, though he mainly tempers it himself or rolls around in the Riften brothels every so often (the girlies and gays know him on a first name basis - he supports sex workers and always pays more than he’s asked). He’s indulgent, likes the finer things in life, enjoys compliments. Despite his greed, he’s charitable. And if you’re good to him, he’s very good to you. He’s vain, but also encourages vanity in those he thinks deserve to be a little more vain (i.e, women who have been treated like shit all their lives, farmhands, outcasts, people who have been told that they are ‘ugly’, and underdogs).

For his love of people and things that aren’t considered typically “beautiful”, Namira is a rather big fan. Namira wants a piece of him.

He also likes to see how quickly people will label others as ‘monsters’ and that plays a big role in who gains his favour. Such as the cannibal who only ate because he was starving. The forsworn who butchered his tribe because of the horrors they put him through. The necromancer who desecrated holy grounds because he just wanted to revive his lover. The vampire who slaughtered an entire village because they stood idly by and did nothing as his lover was burnt at the stake, y’know.

And this idea was all conjured up by listening to the slowed reverbed version of Bloody Mary LMAO DONT @ ME

#tesblr #skyrim #skyrim oc #lesser god #daedra #not a daedric prince but perhaps a daedric squire?? lmao #Spotify

[qqueenofhades]

I truly hate to ask, but could you please break down exactly what's being proposed with Moore v Harper? From what I understand it's more possible meddling in voting rights but can't quite get the details anywhere.

Welp. Okay. Basically, Moore v. Harper, which SCOTUS is going to hear oral arguments for today, is a Frankenstein's monster of a case and the culmination of decades of Republican work to suppress and overturn elections by quote-unquote legal means (rather than you know, armed coups). In a nutshell, it proposes to totally undo the last 235 years of federalist democracy, under the guise of sticking to an "originalist!" interpretation of the Constitution. Fun, right? Fascists! They're just so fun!

The points at stake are these:

The Constitution technically grants individual state legislatures the ultimate authority over how that state selects its Electoral College delegates. As such, every state soon adopted laws stating that those electors shall be chosen by the popular vote. BUT, since the wording remains that the legislatures have the final say... you now see where the problems are incoming.

As such, if the fascists get their way, SCOTUS will just... throw out two centuries of precedent and allow state legislatures to select their presidential electors any old which way. This, and I cannot stress this enough, WILL NOT BE BY POPULAR VOTE, especially in Republican-controlled states. People can have their little elections and vote for their little candidates, but if the state legislature is not legally bound to respect their choice, they can appoint whichever electors they want. In the GOP dream scenario, a Democrat would win the state, the Republican-controlled legislature would ignore that, certify Republican electors (remember, the Constitution says they have the final say!!) and send them to the EC to vote for the Republican. This result would then, despite being a brazen subversion of democracy in plain sight, be legally binding.

In other words, a Democrat would never win a presidential election again, and the state legislatures would also probably not feel too fussed about respecting other results they disagreed with, i.e. for state-level results.

This is, yes, basically a nightmare. So! How worried should we be?

Kagan, Sotomayor, and KBJ, the court liberals, will vote against it.

Thomas and Alito will straight up vote for the worst possible version of this they can come up with and only then bother making up some nonsense legal theory to justify it, probably Blah Blah States' Rights.

Gorsuch will probably also vote for it, because his big thing is Textual Originalism!!!

So that's 3 for and 3 against. The wild cards here are Roberts, Kavanaugh, and Barrett.

Roberts will probably try to persuade the wingnuts to accept some watered-down, plausibly deniable version of this, not because he is a moderate (he's not) or because he doesn't want this (he does). However, he's been having a lot of fits over public perception of the court and he doesn't want to build popular support for reforming it, so as he did with Roe, he might try to come up with some milquetoast middle ground. However, since he did fail with Roe and then went ahead and voted with the rest of the conservatives anyway, he can NOT be trusted.

Kavanaugh is bought and paid for and will probably do whatever his puppetmasters tell him to do. Barrett is a theocrat and will probably vote for it.

I feel as if the most likely outcome is that we get some monstrosity stitched-together patchwork nightmare that gives more cover for GOP legislatures to "legally" meddle with election results, rather than straight-up ending democracy, but since they have done that before, we honestly don't know.

As I have said before, SCOTUS does not NEED to hear any case that comes before it. They have total discretion to refuse. So the fact that they agreed to hear this one means they do intend to do something bad. The only question is HOW bad.

FASCISM! SO FUN.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts

[forgottenvalentina]

OOC | Valentina & Brigit

ahh, if it isn't valentina's least favorite stepdaughter! lakjsdfkljdf tho tbf, rose and eithne meddling w princes and her son are making that contest a lil more difficult to win hahaha

ngl tho id say that brigit still has the lead in the 'worst child' competition in valentina's book and, certainly, grew up w the title! being the most rebelious and outspoken of the kids honestly means she was probs the least fav even when the dad was around tbqh and then i feel like that probs only got compounded as valentina treated them worse and worse and told herself it was all fine -- but brigit didn't agree! and was most likely to be outspoken abt it!

anyway, she probs knows or at least suspects that brigit is in on the pranks, and this paired w everything gets her called 'ingrate' and punished a lot. but tbh her punishments are probs usually things like 'bed w/o dinner' but given that her own sister is the cook and this is ~their home, idk how assiduously any of these edicts are obeyed hahaha

however, for more egregious disturbances, she gets lashes and/or locked in the cellar a la danielle de barbarac! however, i don't think valentina hands these things out super liberally bc mostly she ~does want to keep the girls loyal and working and she knows that if she's too cruel she'll lose that, plus the fact that both eithne and rose have royal ears at their disposal, i think she realizes that she has to be a lil more careful how she treads -- at least until she can marry them both off into some wretched little backwater where no one will ever hear from them again and then blacken their names to anyone who once held them in high esteem bc #familygoals

i do think w all the girls there ws a period -- and sometimes the impusle occasionally it raises its head again even now -- right after the dad died when valentina genuinely tried to lowkey bond w her stepdaughters but tbh she just ~isn't a warm and loving person but she isn't a monster -- she felt bad that they were orphaned and was aware they were now her responsibility etc. however, i don't think she ever particularly liked any of them (the biggest reason she loves her own kids is bc she can't help it and she views them as pieces of herself and she's quite egotistical) and it felt quite burdensome and there was some jealousy bc everyone there loved them far more than she and hers and so there was a lot of "affection" doled out in the backhanded compliment variety and yeah it was pr toxic even when it was slightly better laksdjfkldjsf

so yeah!!! idr what my larger point was here, but yeah i do think this does apply to all of the girls, even brigit, tho i think from pr much the v start brigit was her least fav bc she wasn't 'ladylike' enough etc and *sigh* yeahhh

#brigit malconaire #ooc

[ipromiseimawriter]

WIP TITLE GAME

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Tagged by @zahnie - thank you omg!!

From most recently worked on to least (roughly): (I tend to be pretty literal with these for the most part, if they don't already have a title)

destiel fix it fic - draft 2: is what it says on the tin. I will get to chipping at the end of this godforsaken series, so hELP ME. I do have a fancy lil summary though (this could get edited later but y'know!!):

“What are you doing? Dean, no–!” “You asked me to stop you. So I’m stopping you.” ( As promised, the Empty came for Castiel when his soul called. When it sang a happiness so profound that nothing else could possibly contain it. But Dean wasn’t ready to let go – and if you were to ask him, he’d swear he had failed Cas one too many times. So when the time came, he sank right down with him. )  Chuck could’ve called it, really. But there’s no biblical preparation for their journey through the Empty. It’s all up to them, now, while Sam and Jack (and friends) race to undo Chuck’s damage to the world. Alternating POV. 15x18 CODA/Fix-It Fic for end of 15x18/15x19 & beyond [15x20 who is she lmao]

destiel theatre bitches AU: an incredibly self-indulgent AU where Dean and Castiel are professors for a theatre department at a (made-up) small liberal arts school somewhere in Kansas. Cas is a new arrival to the department who's making waves (and suggesting some batshit shows for production), Dean's the gruff and well-loved scene shop head/tech professor who doesn't like his toes getting stepped on (jk yes he does), and they're gonna be soooo normal about it (me when i lie). nearly everyone and their mom is in this AU. we have fun here

Welcome to Purgatory: an original work (longform)! a story inspired by my time interacting with SPN/with other horror-fantasy adjacent medias, some characters I've had for 1000 years, and just - fucking around and finding out. I def tried to NaNoWriMo it before, to no such luck, so I just chip at it on my own time. I've got a running tag for it if you're ever interested! (old summary)

Jules Herrick went missing without a trace in the early nineties, and his hunting partner, Simon Villanova, never saw him again. We jump ahead about twenty-five years and realize why he should’ve stayed missing. Victor and Amelia are two childhood friends separated by time and responsibility, reuniting for what should be a normal road trip under less fortunate circumstances - the death of a mutual friend. However, the trip is quickly derailed by a strange pursuer that sends them on the run, and into action.  The people who catch up with them to help are not what they expect. The lives their families have led were kept from the two for safety. But between a rogue demon, its lost hellhound, and a secret organization hunting down the missing man and his cohorts, one question must be asked: What does Jules Herrick want with the end of the world, as they know it?

go catch a sunset (stanford-era dean/the outsiders bullshit): a Stanford-era Dean fic (which has 2 chapters up!) that I sort of use as my lil swimming pool for figuring ideas out? Mostly just speculation and big character thoughts on that very vulnerable time. I'm v much looking forward to introducing both Bobby and Cassie soon, getting some Winchester drama, and picking at those good backstory characters.

mama barracuda (WIP title - eldritch horror type shit): an original work (short story). "There's a monster in the woods, just off the beaten path from Hope's home. She isn't the first to be trapped into position of Keeper for the Barracuda of the Backwoods, but she is the first - in a very long time - to truly understand her. They call her Mama." So essentially - monster collects teeth for her own rotting mouth. Sisyphean effort on the Keeper's part. Symbiotic parasite/mother-daughter type shit. LOTS TO UNPACK.

honorable mention: a bunch of plays and other lil bits that would take me too long to describe <333

tagging: @subtlefires, @disabled-dean , @butchabouttown, @luckshiptoshore , and anyone who wants to play! (this includes all my friends who may see this and go "hey i have wips". give it to me. i want to see it)

#tag game #writing stuff #original work #fanfic #elliot rambles #tagged: zahnie #supernatural #welcome to purgatory

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Late Bloomer"

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x female reader

Tags: human trafficking, dark!Lloyd, significant undefined age gap, older man/younger reader, daddy/girl, dub con with significant non con elements, innocence kink, loss of virginity, exploitation, dacryphilia, size kink, dumbification, misogyny, squirting, forced orgasm, p in v sex, light degradation, pet names, oral sex: m! and f! receiving, sexual awakening, age play vibes, little!reader, but not really: she's just drugged and really really dumb.

Summary:

He imagines her as a rose: fragrant and velvet-soft. Imagines crushing her in his hand, plucking her petals off one by one, until there's nothing left.

Lloyd's always loved ruining pretty things.

A.N.: The age gap is left undefined. The OF is not the girl from the movie, which I haven't seen. I don't write characters as explicitly younger than 18 on Tumblr, after having a foul staff member equate teenage pairings with CSAM.

That said, this fic will be dark and chock full of exploitation and dub-to-outright non-con. Consume responsibly.

The job doesn't go quite as planned, but Lloyd can be a go-with-the-flow, adapt-to-the-demands-of-the-moment type guy when he needs to be. So he gets creative, and in the end it all works out alright.

The not-insubstantial bounty for the Russian perverts is regrettably forfeited when he loses his temper and gives them the brutal executions that they deserve. But that money can be made back once he finds a buyer for the yacht, since the guy who owns (owned) it is now sleeping with the fishes. With a little more effort, Lloyd can still make out well on this deal. And he's killed a few deplorables, and gained himself an unexpected prize, to boot.

Not a bad day for doing crime.

They shove the bodies overboard and retire for the night, headed for the rendezvous in Madripoor. Lloyd's men handle the cargo, already under strict orders not to touch the younger ones, whom Lloyd figures he'll arrange to have dumped off at an embassy once they dock in Jakarta.

The older girls seem relieved to have been liberated and they don't put up much of a fuss when they're divvied up amongst the crew for the evening. Lloyd's personal pick, the poor thing whom he'd had to physically wrestle away from Yuri with a flare gun pressed right to her head, has been locked down in a stateroom to try and calm her down.

Despite what some people say, Lloyd is not an inconsiderate monster. He freshens up first, showering all the blowback off his face and changing into something comfortable before heading below deck. He keys in the code for the bedroom, which is large and lavish and looks exactly like something a Russian billionaire would design. All money, no taste.

The girl's on the bed. She's still crying, but it's a pretty, aesthetic type of crying rather than hysterical or snotty. Tears that enhance rather than detract. The type of thing a man like Lloyd can really appreciate, if he's so inclined.

He steps into the room, takes a deep breath, and reminds himself to take his time with this. No sense rushing it and wasting a good thing. He's going to savor every moment.

She turns and squeaks when she sees him there. "Oh!"

"Shh, sh sh," he soothes. "There there now. Why're you crying, Buttercup? There's nothing to cry about. Not anymore."

Still in the middle of writing this ridiculous filth (another "short" oneshot to shake writer's block for my true passion projects), but was too excited to not post a teaser. Should be up tomorrow!

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#upcoming fic #dark lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen #fanfic #fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans characters #the gray man #human trafficking #dark!fic #non con #dumbification #forced drugging #age difference #older man younger woman #lloyd x reader #lloyd hansen x ofc #innocence kink #first time #loss of virginity #daddy k!nk #soft dark fic

[ddrqoyote]

one of the weirdest things in one piece is how all the dressrosans are fine with what happened in the dressrosa arc.

imagine you're a middle-class citizen of a first-world country (if you already are, great, this'll be easy). you're not the best person, you're not the worst person, but you do what you can. then out of nowhere, your home is probably destroyed, most of your country is destroyed, you might've lost people, it's a disaster. then before you can process it you find out your new leader and a lot of other people are fine with it being an impoverished, pacifist country from now on. your old life is GONE, you're never getting it back and you didn't do anything wrong. and if you get upset about it people probably call you a fascist sympathizer.

now i'm not a doflamingo apologist. obviously a lot of people are going to be happy their enslaving, mind-raping, self-genocidal rulers are gone. i just don't get how EVERYONE is. this isn't alabasta or fishman island where it was a failed coup or skypiea where enel's rule hardly helped anyone or even wano where the country was colonized and most people already hated kaido. the average citizen seems to have benefited in some ways from doflamingo's rule. and now there's a regime change. a total reversal of course for the country. and under the circumstances above is everyone going to be thinking rationally? of course not. some people are going to blame outsiders for taking doflamingo down or convince themselves dressrosa was an inside job. some will want the old ways back by any means necessary. there's going to be tension. there could be civil war.

considering one piece could end with the whole world government being taken down and liberating people is a MASSIVE theme, it'd be nice to see talk of what happens after. even just a passing mention that dressrosa is in a civil war would be awesome (and how will the pacifist king and his supporters respond to an uprising? the gears are turning...)

it could also be a way to explore how scary luffy is for the average person. even ignoring government propaganda, the straw hats are a bunch of literal monsters who go around spreading truth and revolution. just cause it's a good thing doesn't mean everyone's ready for it. most of us wouldn't be. there's never a "right time" for these things.

it's like the ending of v for vendetta. the government is very clearly evil, but once it's gone britain is chaotic and confused and the people are still the same as they've always been. v changed some minds but taking down the government didn't instantly convert the whole country or reveal 90% of people already hated norsefire anyway.

in the future there could be the happy ending v wanted, evey might guide the people to his anarchist vision, but she might fail and the story ends right after the fall without telling you which. the people have to choose their future for themselves. sometimes people choose wrong.

#one piece #one piece dressrosa #one piece doflamingo #v for vendetta

[blueiight]

My issue with Louis lack of role in Lestat's murder is litearlly the show made Lestat more explicitly abusive SO Louis could be the one to slice his throat. The escalation of violence was in part as the creatives have said to justify latter, both of which didn't exist in the book. If you take away Louis's agency in the murder, I think the domestic violence feels much more like a cheap shock value stunt.

to suggest book lestat is less crueler than his show counterpart just cuz his cruelty in earlier arcs was subtler than str8 up assault is a bit.. lestat cannot thrive w/o being the center of attention & will force u to look at him #byanymeans. show wise ep1 dude literally said i got my daddy temper off the jump #hewasboundtobcrazy lovebombs louis welcome to the monster’s web🧛🏾‍♀️. white master black student equals in the dark like danny said. the show begs u to look at the violence in these power dynamics off rip. show louis in the modern interview literally admits to having uneasy/complex feelings [yk. the whole my lover maker murderer bit] on lestat. im not negating the fact that louis literally slit his throat nor am i taking away his ~agency~. what im saying is claudia knew that louis had love for their abusive maker & used that for her/their own ends.. & its also trapping lestat cuz he could delude himself into thinking him& louis back in love again n ~claudia’s getting in the way~. which is why louis issuing the killer blow is a statement in of itself to his own feelings about the abuse he faced, as well as how someone pointed out, claudia & louis ripped the same body parts off the guests in ep7 that was shattered when louis was physically assaulted in ep5. what im saying is 1) to a certain extent the murder plot is also about claudia asserting her idea of revenge at what she feell like lestat (& louis) took away from her. its infant death v. gentleman death, both warring for different things they want out of louis. lover or brother, companion all the same, the third party has to be eliminated. the nuclear family died. u got multiple shots where claudia & lestat r glaring at eachother anytime louis smiles at or pays one of them (& not the other) any mind. & 2) louis in the modern day tries to sell daniel an easy story of triumph over a past love gone sour, where louis seeks liberation w claudia [the image of them holding hands as antoinette burn] from lestat when thats not how the story finished at all.. like obviously claudia isnt even around in the modern day & the vampire armand is for one. louis cant even stomach himself to say the rest of the story, digging his feet into artificial sand and daniel’s badgering his ass og damn near boutta push louis into another break& this triggers armand into dropping his rashid ruse n finishing the story louis couldnt bring himself to tell [s2]. & we, the audience, get a view into another angle of louis memory, where we see louis cry over lestat’s body and go into quite frankly hysterics at claudia suggesting alone burn lestat as they did antoinette, choking claudia out. [baby these characters is throwed the fuck off]

#yn. #yn answers #family from hell #iwtv #sorry for taking away a nubian sistuh’s agency✊🏾wont do it again big dawg #my anons said u cant joke about louis being a pickme yanz we had enough😂😂

[wanderingnork]

My #1 issue with anthology horror is how frequently it feels disjointed. I’d happily live in a world where anthologies were just short films with title cards between, but we live in a world where there’s always a frame narrative. Which I usually cannot stand, or that feels clunky and artificial. I found the frame narrative of Body Bags successful because it gave us an engaging narrator and a link to each story (the unfortunate tales of people who have ended up in a morgue). The Mortuary Collection did something similar, but also fully linked the stories into the frame narrative itself by the end, grounding the shorter tales.

And then there’s Southbound, which decided to be an anthology that has no gaps at all between its short films.

Southbound is a collection of five short stories that all take place on the same isolated stretch of highway in the Mojave Desert in California. Overseen by bizarre and bony wraiths that float in the background of many pivotal scenes, characters move through a story where space and time are twisted in bizarre ways. All of them are forced to face the worst parts of themselves, always in a devastatingly gory way.

Basically, this movie hit every SINGLE one of my buttons as far as things I like in horror. Stunning creature designs, elements of cosmic horror, bleakly lovely settings, brutal but tasteful violence, stories left open for speculation and interpretation. If you ran Carnival of Souls through a blender with the song “Hotel California,” Georgia O’Keeffe’s desert photography, and added a liberal pinch of 80’s blood-splattered screaming, you’d get this movie. And I loved every single minute.

Spoilers below the cut.

You can tell that the creative team behind this movie has a good deal of experience working in a shorter format. Many of them have collaborated previously on the V/H/S franchise and I think that shows in the tonal coherence of the whole thing. Although each segment genre-hops (cosmic horror, cults, medical drama, surrealism, home invasion), all of them share the same tone of bleak resignation. Not despair—the protagonists, to a one, are fighters who try to claw their way to survival—but a greater force is involved here. There is no escape.

Let’s be clear. This movie is not exactly treading new ground here with any of its concrete content. The basic plots have all been done before. But I really think that’s a stupid fucking reason to drop a movie’s rating, because each of these basic plots is done with a unique spin, good polish, and in a chained narrative that sets them apart.

I fucking LOVED the wraiths. For once, we got to see exactly enough of the monster—not too much and not too little. At rest, on the attack, up close, at a distance, in broad daylight, in the shadows. In the main they don’t take center stage, but they don’t need to. Spotting them hanging over the desert in the distance or in the background of an unfolding tragedy is plenty.

And they do the Spindly Critter thing very, very well. That’s a creature design that’s starting to wear me down, but these guys were different. An amalgamation of familiar skeletal shapes and alien features took them from Typical Spindly Critter to Something I Will See In The Corner Of My Room Tonight. (Though I fucking hope not.)

It’s a well-designed setting. They could have made everything dusty and drab, but instead even the desert is crisp. Lights are bright and not monochromatic. Motel doors are orange, a van is lime green, a bar’s lights are neon. There are outfits that are pops of color. Many, MANY scenes are done in brightly-lit spaces, and when the spaces are dim lights are effectively used to let us actually see the action. A lot of the set dressing is just lovely, from an old cash register that makes really good sounds to a vintage pink ceramic in a house to red wall hangings in a tattoo shop.

I also deeply appreciated how…real the actors felt. They felt like people, not walking props, which is a feeling I get from some horror movies. Costumes and looks clearly styled to give a specific vibe, but I believed that these could be real people in some desert town somewhere. Fat, thin, young, old, scruffy, polished—their characters were well-expressed by how they were dressed, and there was a wide range of faces and bodies (unfortunately overwhelmingly white).

What I’m saying is that this town is not on a map, but it’s out there in the desert. On a lonely highway. You yourself could drive into this town and simply…never drive out again.

And I love that.

#the horror tag #nork rants #this was pretty much my ideal horror movie