#soucriant

[briefbestiary]

A burning being with some vampiric traits. As an additional note, if one manages to find her skin and rub it with salt or hot peppers, she can be killed as this will prevent her from reentering her skin.

[disco-archetypes]

THE DESERTER - "Your beloved *Joyce Messier*. A soucriant. A blood sucker. Women like her *feed* on the life energy of young working class men. And they *let* her."

THE DESERTER - "I can't *believe* the inert lumpen out there. They just let her drive her little boat like that. No violence, not even a robbery. The working class has lost their appetite for justice..." His voice trails off in disappointment.

HAND/EYE COORDINATION - If only he had the ammunition.

[annabelle--cane]

latest report on my vampire movie journey: byzantium 2012. I saw this one in 2015 or 2016 and, though I couldn't remember much of the plot, there were a few visual images that stayed with me, so I thought I'd give it another go now that I am older and wiser. overall I felt like the performances and cinematography were great, though it was a bit heavy handed and sensationalist with its treatment of sex work. it's doing a similar thing to bit 2019 with its use of vampirism as power and the idea of women reconstructing hierarchies of control in the process of rejecting patriarchy, and imo it does it a little more gracefully by connecting those hierarchies to motherhood rather that consciously political female separatism.

my real qualm is what the hell they were doing with soucriant folklore? I make no claims to be an expert on this but I've read a few novels by authors from the francophone caribbean that involved soucriants/soucouyants/soucougnans and they are simply not anything like what is presented in this movie. my best guess is they wanted to do that artsy genre film thing and avoid saying vampire but fucking. say oupire. why invoke afrocaribbean syncretic folklore when your movie has fuck all to do with the caribbean and your brotherhood of vampires is explicitly a hoity toity white boys' club? truly perplexing creative decision there.

[massivemilkbags]

y'know what? fuck you. i'm taking a note from Lukki's book and going on a quick little lore rant about a character of mine from the same story; Nico. Nico is a fallen angel, one who had some pretty major importance. they forgot their story for the longest time, with it being forcibly replaced with a more mundane one during their Fall how do you think they remembered the true one? you probably didn't think of them nearly dying by their own stubbornness and protectiveness of Himari causing them to spit out ichor they swallowed centuries ago in their initiation to Heaven's High Courts as an honorary member of the highest tier, which is typically made up of Gods. yeah. so i have some things to explain. Nico was an honorary member of the High Courts, and they eventually saw how corrupt and controlling it was. This caused them to stage a revolution behind the backs of the other members, organizing many other Archangels to assist. They failed and Nico was made to take their Fall. you might have a question, like "why is their Fall a proper noun?" well, it's because it's a ritual. something that isn't as simple as just falling normally. anyways, skipping forward several centuries, they met the group and went with them to break up the monotony of the past 600 or so years. forwards another year or so, they met someone specific: Luna. Luna is a rogue demon during an apocalyptic world put into that state by, well, demons. Luna is the one who got the ichor after Nico spat it out and she's also the one who gave it back to them. she even helped Nico inject it into themself in an attempt to break the seals keeping them out of heaven. it didn't work. regardless, they're still injecting it in small doses, strengthening a form of magic that i decided to call the Deity's Assurance. they also had one more thing added to their body and soul. Soucriant extract. don't ask about the name because i don't know, but it's the part of a Demon's body that sources their power Nico got a demon's core, essentially. as of now, they're bed-ridden, recovering energy as they keep draining more of it by dosing more ichor. they're building up power and, at this point, there's nothing anyone can do to stop it. luckily, nobody wants to stop it if it means taking down someone special. who? well, i'll leave that up to Lukki to reveal. after all, she's the one with a blood link to him.

[sapphicwriter-maya]

I made a executive decision to only show you chapter two of the story mainly because chapter one was more of laying groundwork for my main character and it’s a bit boring 🤣🤣 mainly what happens in that chapter is we are introduced to the main character, Anni Alinsky. We find out that she works part time at the famous witch house Museum in Salem Massachusetts (it’s a real house. I’ve actually went to great lengths and even watched a few tours to get the feel just right) Anni is vivacious and a little prickly at times, she’s a senior in high school and trying to decide what to do with her life. She has a tragic love hate relationship with her deceased mother. Is very shy and keeps to herself. Doesn’t like attention. Anni ends up falling asleep on the job (she’s on a break mind you🤣) and she ends up having this dream about this creature in the night with long fangs and eyes as red as crimson. She’s startled awake by a tourist. This tourist isn’t just any other old tourist though🤔 his name is Finneas O’connel and he is the older brother of Anni’s love interest. And he’s also a vampire. But in the story I used a synonym for the word vampire mainly because I felt like it would work better. So in my book they are called soucriants. Which is an actual vampire myth hailing from the Caribbean. Anyway I don’t want to bore you with the long details! But Anni is part of a ancient prophecy, but she has no clue or indication about it. The O’connel family has known for centuries. Finneas’s father Patrick was born in a medieval village in Yorkshire in the 1300s. He got turned into a vampire during that time. He had the ability of precognition, and knew about anni. His job is to teach her about her powers, act as a guide, a teacher of a sort. And he’s spent years searching for her. Waiting. So his son Finneas ends up going to talk to Anni (sort of get a feel for her and her personality) they end up getting along like a couple of children in a sweet store. When Finneas gets home we find out that his sister is having the same dreams. Only hers are about Anni. So we sort of see the connection between the two. So it’s pretty interesting and crazy! This explanation is already awfully long 🤣 I’ll send the chapter in a separate ask to not confuse you. So chapter two is Anni having her chaotic meeting with Finneas’s infamous sister who is a vampire and it’s a lot of sexual tension and just sapphic vibes everywhere. You also don’t have to reply to this if you want! You can just read it as a prelude explaining the book. (I also don’t share my writing a lot with anyone and I happen to know you write very well and are talented in a lot of ways so I hope you enjoy reading my work. 🫶-🤓

okay woww, this sounds like such an interesting premise!! send send send

also you happen to know I write well, hm? goodness me, the naughty things you must be into if you're reading my little work on ao3.

[alexkujawa]

2017 Inktober, Day 16 SOUCOUYANT is a type of blood sucking hag in Carribean folklore. The soucouyant practices black magic. She is a shapeshifter who appears as a reclusive old woman by day. By night, she strips off her wrinkled skin and puts it in a mortar. In her true form, as a fireball she flies across the dark sky in search of a victim. The soucouyant can enter the home of her victim through any sized hole like cracks, crevices and keyholes. Soucouyants suck people's blood from their arms, legs and soft parts while they sleep leaving blue-black marks on the body in the morning. If the soucouyant draws too much blood, it is believed that the victim will either die, become a soucouyant or perish entirely, leaving her killer to assume her skin. Other common names for SOUCOUYANT: Soucriant (in Dominica, St. Lucian, Trinidadian, Guadeloupean folklore), Lougarou (in Haiti, Louisiana, and Grenada), Ole-Higue or Ole Haig (in Guyana and Jamaica), and Asema (Suriname). My Inktober continues! This year I am drawing female ghosts, monsters, and demons from around the world. . #inktober #sketchbook #soucouyant #asema #soucriant #olehaig #olehigue #firewitch #carribbeanfolklore #folklorecreature #witch #hag #inktober2017 #inkdrawing #illustration #artistoninstagram #instart #drawing #drawingmonsters

[copiesofme-archive]

@abhailiu​ sent: "ARE YOU JUST GONNA LET OUR LOVE FERN DIE LIKE THAT? ARE YOU GOING TO LET *US* DIE LIKE THAT?" - YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS FOR.

         She is insane. That’s the only words he really can put to the exasperation that’s sputtering at his lips as he rises up from the sofa with his beer in hand. Holding a hand up with a short gesture toward Logan; a short beckon to please - please be quiet. With the way she was looking at him he’s not sure if she’d appreciate his sister’s boyfriend asking him to kick out his girl, or .. whatever Clara was now to him. She’s changed drastically, horridly even over the past few days and he’s unsure exactly how to approach each situation that had arrived. Maybe he’d hoped that under all of this madness that clever and charming woman he’d met last week would still be there.

       Any regret he’d felt over taking the bet was all but gone now; now it was only a waiting game. Right? Right?  “No- no, Clara I’m not.” He rounds the sofa, voice raising when he hears Logan sigh loudly and turn the television up louder to hear the fights better over Clara’s screaming. “I would never - let us die, I swear. The plants not dead- it’s jus... sleeping? These things sleep right - Clara-” He holds his hands up, “Calm down.”

[princecfdenmark]

@soucriante​

Hamlet was moving along the cutting board with a surgeon like precision. Every tomato, onion, and pepper was cut just so.  He was cutting the olives in half now and cursed under his breath because the oil had made the board a little bit more slippery than it had to be.

He looked up at Clara and smiled. “How do the two of you feel about Italian dressing?” he asked.

[aggredsive-a]

Clara is 5'7.

b r a n d   n e w   a r m r e s t

[intelwon]

“ Sorry, but we’re closed. ”

She only reacts to the sound of the bell as the door opens. She’s forgotten to lock it but the sign’s been turned over. Fingers deftly place a few books on the shelves. Alice has her own process, the store arranged unusually but genres have their place in a way that draws in the most to their respective corners.

Multi colored eyes lift to eye the customer, head tilting to the side. Had it been a man, she would have insisted he leave immediately. She’s silent for a moment before releasing a deep breath. 

“ I’ve nothing going on if you’re interested in browsing... ”

    @soucriante​ liked s.c.

[heartleeches]

@soucriante​ liked for a lyric/random starter! accepting! || es by crying.

    “all i care to do is sip on beer and chocolate milk,” she says, cracking open a can and pulling her cup of milk closer to herself. it’s too early for this sort of chaos and yet, here she is.

[bardbattleda]

𝐈𝐓'𝐒   𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐆   𝐎𝐔𝐓   𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 .   elsie  actually  doesn’t  mind  so  much  --  she  likes  watching  her  breath  pour  like  a  cloud  from  her  lips  --  but  without  a  coat,  it’s  going  to  start  affecting  her  adversely  sooner  or  later.  hands  rub  at  her  arms  stubbornly.  at  least  she’s  not  alone  here!  she  doesn’t  know  the  other,  but  that’s  alright.  she  can  carry  on  a  conversation  with  anyone.  it’s  a  skill.        “  snow  any  day  now,  don’t’cha  think?  ”

@soucriante​        ♡’d !

[theymakehistoryarchived]

@soucriante​ liked [this] for a starter!

Aislin looked up at the woman she accidentally bumped into, clutching her laptop to her chest and gasping for air. She had sensed so much darkness and pain when touching the woman, it was unlike anything she’d experienced before. “Who...what...who are you?” she finally managed to ask in a raspy voice, her heart pounding in her chest. 

[zagubionywilk]

@soucriante​  --  you’re a bit of a prick, but peel away that prick and there’s a good man in there.

                                                                  SKINS

                 >> ⚔️ <<            THE WOLF’S HEAD TILTS AT HER WORDS,  BROWS KNITTING AS HE HUFFS SOFT    ;    he doesn’t enjoy being read.  or assumed.  she wasn’t wholly wrong but he doesn’t   FEEL  good.  any part of him hasn’t felt   good   in a very long time   ------  maybe try   VILE AND MONSTROUS   who couldn’t even keep his lion cub alive or give her what was necessary.  a soft snort leaves him with   SHRUGGING   shoulders while arms remain crossed and square.            ❝          what makes you   THINK SO   ??          ❞                

[legend-collection]

Soucouyant

The soucouyant or soucriant in Dominica, St. Lucian, Trinidadian, Guadeloupean folklore (also known as Loogaroo or Lougarou) in Haiti, Louisiana, Grenada and elsewhere in the Caribbean or Ole-Higue (also Ole Haig) in Guyana, Belize and Jamaica or Asema in Suriname ), in The Bahamas and Barbados it is known as Hag. It is a kind of blood-sucking hag.

The soucouyant is a shapeshifting Caribbean folklore character who appears as a reclusive old woman by day. By night, she strips off her wrinkled skin and puts it in a mortar. In her true form, as a fireball she flies across the dark sky in search of a victim. The soucouyant can enter the home of her victim through any sized hole like cracks, crevices and keyholes.

Pic by gemgfx on DeviantArt

Soucouyants suck people's blood from their arms, necks, legs and soft parts while they sleep leaving blue-black marks on the body in the morning. If the soucouyant draws too much blood, it is believed that the victim will either die and become a soucouyant or perish entirely, leaving her killer to assume her skin. The soucouyant practices black magic. Soucouyants trade their victims' blood for evil powers with Bazil, the demon who resides in the silk cotton tree.

To expose a soucouyant, one should heap rice around the house or at the village cross roads as the creature will be obligated to gather every grain, grain by grain (a herculean task to do before dawn) so that she can be caught in the act. To destroy her, coarse salt must be placed in the mortar containing her skin so she perishes, unable to put the skin back on. Belief in soucouyants is still preserved to an extent in Guyana, Suriname and some Caribbean islands, including Dominica, Haiti and Trinidad.

The skin of the soucouyant is considered valuable, and is used when practicing black magic. Many Caribbean islands have plays about the soucouyant and many other folklore characters. Some of these include Trinidad Grenada and Barbados.

[copiesofme-archive]

        Silence. It is all that she had. All that she had to give to the world in place of the shaking grief that she had to offer. They had lost everything, it was gone, her family, the farm, all in the matter of a few hours. With a secret that they had suffered for, were punished in the name of. A secret that Dolores herself was entirely unaware until the executioners had stood above her, ripping and tearing at her dress. Begging, had gotten none of them anywhere- it hadn’t helped Dolores. It hadn’t helped Ashley, or her daddy, or mama. The healing gash along her stomach was enough testament to that, the way that her skin crawled when anyone came near to touching her skin. She pitied Logan, in truth he had been the one who had found her again. And had been as patient as can be. She scorned her own inability to grasp or lay claim to what had happened. But in truth, there was so much that she felt that on days where she wasn’t feeling anything, she felt nothing.

      Perhaps that’s why she hadn’t cared to fill any silences around her with the sentiment she once held in such high regard, perhaps it was the very same reason that it took away any sort of appetite she might’ve had before. Penelope had come and would approach with understanding - her dearest sister. Just as Logan had, but Dolores had no words left for them.

       When Clara came, she had taken to trying yet again to finish a cross stitch that had survived the first. But it was a useless loop of pushing the needle through again and again, and finding she’d have to undo it all when her mind had taken her away and a pricked finger would have her noticing the red staining the needle.

        Dolores pauses when she realizes that Clara had seated herself next to her with a bowl of porridge, a curious blink when it suddenly answers her own reflected question on what she had been doing in the kitchen. But then tries to turn a pressed brow back to the now stained handiwork and sighs with the drop of it onto the table when she determines that - this one is now ruined too.

        @soucriante​ / gets a plotted RDR thing!!