#women in gialli

[ladamarossa]

The Fourth Victim (1971)

[whoiwanttoday]

Guys, it is not quite the official start of Halloween yet (don't worry, I plan to keep you well informed as to when it is. It's coming up. Just weeks away) but we are in the prelude to Halloween officially this weekend. First, my friends and I have started organizing our planned Halloween season watch lists, it's an online event called Hooptober which is basically a movie scavenger hunt where we have to watch a bunch of movies to fit various criteria. We won't start watching until Halloween is upon us. Tonight though, Joe Bob Briggs is doing a 12 hour movie marathon that feels like a good prelude to the Halloween season. We are looking forward to it and seeing if old people can stay up all night (spoiler, we won't. We suck. We're old) and Rhonda Sheer will be there, which is a throw back to USA's Up All Night, a show that was on Fridays and Saturday from 11 PM to 5 AM when I was a kid. She was one of the hosts and we all thought she was kind of hot and kind of funny. So it's exciting she'll be on tonight.

All of that is some lead in to me posting Edwige Fenech who I promise you is related to all that. She was the queen of Giallo in the 70's. Giallo is an Italian genre that means yellow because old Italian pulp fiction used to be printed on yellow pages, so much like we called Pulp Fiction that because of the type of paper used, they called it Giallo because of the type of paper used. Giallo is a distinctly Italian genre in so many ways. It is half murder mystery and police procedural and half slasher movie. Some skew more horror than others but it's an important horror subgenre that gave us the slashers of the 80's. What makes it so Italian though is that the plot often makes no sense, they often don't seem to care about the plot at all. What they care about is all the people are extremely sexy and sophisticated in a way only Europeans can pull off in the 60's and 70's. America might have had the money but we'd never have that subtle class they all had. Which is wild for such trashy movies. They are always beautiful to look at, it's kind of the whole point. Pretty and vacant in many ways. This is why the genre drives me nuts, sometimes it forgets to even solve the mystery. This is why others love it, pure vibes and beauty. Fans of cinematography and set design tend to love Giallo. It also is famous for, as all Italian films are at the time since they were the kings of European film, having the most beautiful women you have ever seen. Like even in bit parts. All of this means that I have always thought my friend @kat-eleven might like some Giallo if given a chance. I have recommended Suspiria every year for a decade at Halloween. She always refuses because she said, "While I like the sound of those brutal killings, Italian 70's style backhanded sexism, and pretty colors, I just don't think there are any attractive women in all of Europe so I am not interested". That brings us to Edwige Fenech, who I watched one of her many Gialli the other night and was like, "I feel like Kat is wrong. I think she is actually very beautiful". So I sent Kat some posts on tumblr to prove it and you know what? This once that contradictory Canadian agreed I was right. As a matter of fact she said she might watch an Edwige Fenech movie. Which brings us full circle. For my big Hooptober list have thrown in a few Edwige Fenech movies that I haven't seen but are supposed to be among the best she is in, so I can tell @kat-eleven which is the best one. So this is all a prelude to Halloween season when I will be knee deep in Edwige Fenech because I am such a good and giving friend. Maybe she'll get a second post then. Today I want to fuck Edwige Fenech.

[anjelicawrites]

To honor and protect

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x reader x Osferth and all the combinations thereof, I mean there’s three of them, so…

Synopsis: filling this prompt from anon (thank you!!!!) “hiii! so, I'm absolutely LOVING the aemond x reader x osferth fics and had a request of my own that I wanted to share for the pairing. kinda angsty, maybe so smut and good ol fluff too.I was wondering if you could do an aemond x reader x osferth fic where the 3 of them have been super comfortable about their relationship with each other. however, there's always those times in public where others like to ruin their fun. that happens one night while they're out and reader gets upset the most about it. osferth is the one to comfort her first and soon brings in aemond. the two of them tell reader that it doesn't matter what others think, they'll still love each other no matter what. they end up having a love session too. please? thank u”

Warnings: 18+ only please. Body shaming, doxxing, talk of bullying. Smut, lots of it. P in v sex, oral (f receiving), talk of blowjob, rough (ish) sex, overstimulation, dom!Osferth, sub!reader, service top!Aemond.

A/N: I am not sure this is what you wanted? I’ve let the muse roam free and that’s what I got so let me know!!!

A/N 2: it’s >7000 word. I am so sorry. One day I’ll learn how to write less, I promise!

You and your boys have hectic schedules and rarely have the chance to go out together. It doesn't help that you and Aemond are a bit reclusive and would rather spend time home chilling, than being out and about. Osferth is usually the one who has to convince the two of you to go out and you both love him too much to deny him this small happiness. 

Tonight, you all meet directly after work in front of this new, fancy restaurant freshly opened and that's all on Aemond: he wouldn't want to go to one of those pubs you and Osferth love so much, because he is classy like that. For your outings he wants only the best, he wants the pride of knowing that he had managed to book in a reservation in zero time, in a place where it takes weeks to obtain one, because he is Aemond fucking Targaryen, who will do anything for his lovers. You and Osferth would be happy anywhere: the fanciest place in town or a picnic in a small park, as long as Aemond is happy you both are. If flexing his muscles is a way he prefers to express his love for you two, neither you, nor Osferth would stop him, not after all the work he has been doing on himself and his self esteem.

The place is impressive and you feel a little out of place, even with Osferth by your side as you both wait for Aemond. From the outside you see big mirrors, warm lights and a huge amount of metal, the people going in just ooze money, you can smell how rich they are and you feel uncomfortable in your vintage clothing. You have always found Edwige Fenech and Florinda Bolkan, in those ‘70s gialli movies, style icons and started copying theirs and the other amazing actresses's dresses from the moment you had a paycheck to support yourself. You are, most of the time, proud of how you look, but you have to admit the amazing clothing you see on all these stylish people, makes you feel self - conscious and painfully aware that one of the dresses you see on any of these women, is worth your annual earnings. You think you should have made a pit-stop home to change into that Valentino dress Aemond gifted you for your first birthday you celebrated together, that was probably more appropriate than the suit and blouse you are wearing now. Are your boots too old? Is your make up ok?  

Almost on cue Osferth hugs you from behind and kisses your cheek, the smoky scent of his leather jacket is comforting as is his body heat

“You look ravishing, my love - he says - I might just steal you away on my bike and have my wicked way with you”

“You look dapper yourself - and he does, he manages to rock the hot youth pastor style and the leather jacket without effort - and your suggestion is enticing, but I fear Aemond might have killed someone to get us a table here. You can steal me away any other time, though!”

“I count on that”.

You bask into one another’s presence as you people watch the fancy businessmen and models entering the premise. You have always felt a bit out of place in Aemond's world, most of the time you try to approach it with the eyes of an anthropologist, but sometimes you feel like the odd one standing out. Tonight, you feel like your anthropologist goggles are harder to wear and you are not really sure why.

Osferth, on the other hand, has a fuck it attitude. On birth alone, he should have been one of those wealthy people, but his father had never stepped up and he had rather ignored his child out of wedlock. You know it is a complicated matter between the man you have never met and his lawful wedded wife and you are not sure how much his absence had been his own will, and how much his wife’s, the result is the same, though, Osferth suffers from this and his reaction is to double down on being himself and ignore those people's judgemental stares. He had chosen to forego the life his father had decided for him, sheltered and where Alfred didn’t risk meeting him, for a more complicated one, but where Osferth can be himself, with all his contradictions. 

Your reverie is interrupted by Aemond's arrival in his posh car. He gives the keys to the valet and smiles when he sees you and Osferth. Aemond is an extremely private person, the public doesn't know his face, since he has no social media and prefers to leave all the PR to his sister Rhaenyra and her gaggle of children. This permits him to enjoy the perks of being part of Targaryen Corp., minus the harassment from the press. The downside is that he doesn't do PDAs and is always a bit aloof in public, even when in your company. 

He saunters towards you and Osferth; he looks a bit tired around the edges and you muse that he might need this night out, just to break from his routine. When he gets to you, he kisses your hand like the gentleman his mother has raised him to be and hugs Osferth briefly. 

"Shall we go in? - you ask - it's a bit early"

"Drinks on me, raqiarzy, we celebrate" beloved in High Valyrian is one of his favorite pet names for you

"No dead and no injured today?" Osferth knows Aemond has had a big meeting with the stakeholders and was afraid of Rhaenyra's side of the family messing up

"None. Daemon has been his usual unpleasant self, but I haven't canceled to bake a Kek Lapis Sarawak, so I'd say we should celebrate". 

Aemond stress bakes and his whole family stresses him a lot. Usually, according to the amount of stuff he prepares, you can easily understand who has been a problem. When it's his uncle Daemon, he goes with the Kek Lapis Sarawak, which are extremely difficult to prepare and require all of his concentration. You and Osferth both love this kind of cake, but you would rather buy it than eat Aemond's, just because it means that Daemon has been terrible with him. 

You are having drinks while waiting for your table to be ready, sitting in a nestled corner where you can talk without being overly disturbed by the people walking by; you are sitting between your lovers, just chatting about your respective days at work. You are telling your boys about one of your student's outrageous translations of Herodotus, when you feel a sensation between your shoulder blades, as if someone is staring at you with intent; you glance at the big mirror behind the bar, but there's too many people chatting so you decide to ignore the weird feeling, even though it is persistent and it bothers you, forcing you to act more natural than you truly feel. It's between Osferth's recollection of a funny story concerning Uhtred's offspring and Aemond's telling of that one time Helaena scared one aunt with her collection of crawly friends, that you notice the sheer amount of beautiful girls casually bumping into your men, it is almost like the floor around your table is all potholes and those women feel the need to use your men's shoulders to keep their balance. Or are you being paranoid in this environment? 

Aemond's work phone rings and he has to excuse himself for a moment, he has been waiting for some important news from one of the international branches and has to leave you to get this call, it won't be a moment. 

The moment he is not by your side, you start hearing chatting coming from your right side, a little behind you: a group of beautiful women is sitting around a table, staring at you openly with aggression and hate. You hear easily how they are commenting on your body and your clothes; you recognise them as the girls using your boyfriends' shoulders for balance and you try to ignore them, talking a bit louder, hoping that between the general chatting and your voice, Osferth wouldn't hear their words. 

Aemond is still on the phone somewhere when Osferth excuses himself for a moment and you are swamped by these women’s hatred: how your hair is too frizzy, your figure too full, your clothes so out of fashion you must have raided your grandma's wardrobe and why are you with such handsome men? They were surely with you here out of pity, you must have pestered them that they must have felt obliged to be here with you, no wondering why they have already left you alone, they must have already gone home, what a fool you were to be sitting at the table, nursing your drink, waiting for two men far above your station who would never come back. And who has a date with two men? Are you that desperate? Or are you a whore like all ugly women are?

You have been bullied mercilessly from elementary well into high school and you have learnt how to build an armor around yourself to let awful comments slide. Most of the time it works; those are not the first women commenting on why two beautiful men such as Aemond and Osferth are with a normal looking woman like you and you usually laugh in their faces. The ugly truth of trauma, though, is that it might come back whenever you least expect it to be; just when you start believing you have healed the young girl you once were, these jabs seem to hit you where you still have unknown open wounds and you feel tears stinging in your eyes. You want to run to the bathroom when you feel Osferth's voice behind you

“My lovely lady here might not conform to your standards of beauty, but you are the ugliest women I have ever seen in my entire life. You might look beautiful on the outside, but you are hideous on the inside”.

He walks to you, his hands are on your shoulders, big and strong, but his voice is cold. You have never heard him be like this, your Osferth is sunshine, always and now he is a hailstorm, cold and destructive.

One of the women tries to retort but is stopped by Osferth’s words

“You work for a feminist publishing house and you go around belittling another woman. I bet this would make a great publicity stunt for your bosses”.

You see the color drain from her face, you want to say something but Osferth’s hands curl tighter on the meat of your shoulders and you keep silent.

“Mmmh, it is quite stupid to go around freely giving your phone numbers to complete strangers. In this day and age it is too easy to find out every information about someone using only that”.

Aemond appears out of nowhere behind those women, who jump out of their skins. This Aemond is also a stranger to you, cold and cruel as he reads off his phone all the personal information about them: names, addresses, marital status, job position and random information about their families. 

You know he can be ruthless, but you have never seen it happen in front of your eyes; even when he didn’t know you, he was aloof but never this cold, his voice had never dripped venom the way it does now. He is scary and imposing. Even the stare he exchanges with Osferth is foreign to you.

“We should have you on your knees, groveling for our beloved’s forgiveness, but you are undeserving even of that”.

Osferth? You want to ask, but you stay still, trying to recognise the compassionate man you fell in love with, in the emotionless voice coming from behind you; it’s the voice of someone who knows he can cause damage, both physical and psychological, and would act on this knowledge, if pushed. You never knew he could be like this and you wonder if the people he sometimes have to deal with at work, get to see only this side of him. 

“Go, before we make you” Osferth says matter of factly and the group just scampers away, one of the brunettes in tears.

As soon as the women are outside the big, glass doors, the cold spell enveloping your lovers breaks and you see your Osferth and Aemond revert back to the gentle people you know them to be.

Osferth’s hands leave your shoulders to grab your left hand in a concerned manner, his voice soft as he asks you how you are feeling. Aemond surprises you with a kiss on the crown of your head, him who has issues with expressing his affection in public

“I think I might need to go to the bathroom” you say with a shaky voice

“Raqiarzy…” Aemond starts to say, but you stop him with a hand on his chest

“I need to be alone for a moment, please my love” he lets you go, but his stare is weighted by his concern for you.

In the bathroom, you check that the stalls are free and you lock yourself in one to cry in peace. Those awful women’s words and the reaction from your lovers have rattled you; you know a good cry will help you and so you let the tears run freely down your cheeks until they stop on their own accord and you feel better, even though you know your next session with your psychologist will be a valley of tears, because of tonight.

Once you stop crying, you manage to salvage your makeup with the products you have in your bag and hope for the best. 

You don’t really feel like eating anything but you don’t want the comments of those awful women to taint the rest of your evening; your lovers have different plans though.

“Let’s go home” Aemond says the moment you reach him

“But the dinner?”

“I thought this place was worthy of your presence, I was wrong - he says with contempt - a restaurant like this should vet its clientele, not let anyone book  a table. The lack of manners of half of the patrons is not excusable”.

He has lost you at that. You have always thought that only one’s earnings were considered in a place like this: if you are poor you are out, if you are rich you are in, you never thought that not being an obnoxious asshole has ever factored.

“Let’s go” Osferth takes you hand and starts heading for the door

“Really baby, I am fine” you are not, not completely at least, but you don’t want to rain on your collective parade

“We’ll go somewhere else another day”

“And you are not ruining our night” Aemond whispers in your ear 

“You promise?”

"I swear. I want only the best for you and Osferth. This place is not the best" and with that he helps you with your coat. 

The sudden coldness of the night makes you shiver and huddle yourself closer to Osferth, who happily hugs you tight as you wait for yours and Aemond's car to be bought in by the valets, Aemond stands tall and proud in front of you, almost like a protector, ignoring the cold wind whipping your bodies.

When Aemond's fancy Mercedes arrives, he opens the passenger door for you

"I'm driving you home, raqiarzy. Give Osferth your car keys"

"But I can drive, my love, I am fine"

"I know you can - he lets out a soft mmh - but I want to drive you home". 

Your old jeep is waiting behind Aemond's car and the valets stare at you funnily. You decide to bend your stiff neck and give Osferth your keys. It's when you are already in the Mercedes that you ask, your head hanging out from the window 

"What about your bike?"

"It's light enough to strap on the back of your car, love. I'll see you home" his smile is tight and you know he is still angry; from the way Aemond clutches the steering wheel, he is still fuming himself, but keeping it under wraps for your sake. 

Aemond drives with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh, possessively, the heating is at full blast for you, he usually runs too hot and rarely needs to turn it on. Even if angry, he drives with grace and doesn't get mad at the car cutting right in front of him; at the first red light you scoot closer to him and kiss his cheek

"Thank you. You shouldn't have done it though. They were nobodies, not worth your rage and I really don’t know why I let them hurt me so"

"Those nobodies insulted my dāria, my queen. I don't take that kindly. And you are still suffering, I can see that". 

You can hear the controlled rage in his voice, his stance rigid again; you caress his thigh to relax him

"How did you manage to know all about them?"

"Osferth's useless friends. The wonders Sihtric can do with only a handful of phone numbers and one internet connection". 

You put two and two together easily. Osferth had overheard the chitchat you had tried to drown and went looking for Aemond when he had left you alone. A chirurgical operation, so to say. 

"You shouldn't have done that. Those women could have gone to the police"

"It's their word against mine, and mine weighs far more than theirs". 

The way he says it gives you chills. You know that the Targaryens like to spread around the rumor that they have dragon blood running in their veins, but this is the first time you see that in action. He would have burned those women to a crisp, if he only could, you think, he just settled for the next best thing.

"You and Osferth showed me a life I never thought possible and it's only my duty to protect you two". 

You burrow yourself closer to him as physically possible in the moving vehicle. 

“Not at yours of Osferth’s risk”

“There’s really not much in this world that can be a risk for me. I come from very old money, that still counts in many important circles - he adds with a hint of regret in his voice - I wasn’t there for you when you were hurt, in the past. I know it’s something I can’t change but I can be here for you, now”

“You know I won't accept to be a damsel in distress. Tonight those words cut me deep but it’s not going to be always like that”

“I know. Tonight you needed to be protected, the same way I did when we first met. That’s what we do, we keep one another safe in our time of need”

“Do you really want to make me cry tonight?”

“No - he slows down to look into your eyes - I want you happy, always”.

By the time Osferth arrives home, you and Aemond are on the sofa, all the pets but Santanico are huddled around your forms. You are not completely asleep, more lulled by Aemond’s body warmth into a relaxed state, even though he is not: you can tell by how Vaghar has still not settled for the night. You can hear her enormous form move about. Every once in a while she would let out a huff and change position and the house would slightly vibrate with her. 

Osferth has used the longer drive home, an old dirt road, since he needed time to decompress. Once he locks your jeep, he sees how dirty the car is and makes a mental note to wash it during the weekend.

He opens the back door in the kitchen and walks silently, unsure of whether or not you and Aemond would still be awake

“Osferth?” Aemond’s voice in the darkness makes him jump out of his skin

“Are you two awake?”

“Yeah - you answer, reluctantly leaving your lover’s warmth - how are you feeling?”

Osferth has to dodge the dogs’s attempt at being petted and the cats unwillingness to move from their positions; once he has reached your outstretched hand, he kisses your palm and proceeds to lie on you, thus loading your collective weights on Aemond

“You ok on the bottom?” “I’ll let you know when my legs start to numb Os”

“Are you good, my love?” you ask again, concerned

“I am, ish” he adds, unbuttoning your blouse to kiss your tummy

“Osferth… - you try but your words are cut short by Aemond’s lips on the side of your neck - boys…” you try again and it goes nowhere, their lips and fingers seem able to strain any line of thoughts you have. 

“We really need you” Osferth murmurs against your belly button, before blowing a raspberry on the soft skin there, forcing a laugh out of your mouth

“You can have me, always”

“Now - Aemond says as his nimble fingers go for the zip of your skirt, his voice heavy with despair - please raqiarzy”

The pieces go together in your brain as your lovers undress you with care: they need the comfort of your embrace after tonight’s fiasco, the oblivion only your body can provide them, to know they are safe inside of you and that you feel the same in their arms.

You don’t protest when Osferth removes your boots, skirt and stockings before helping you on your feet, Aemond’s fingers unhook your bra and his hands mold around your breasts as the garment falls on the floor; only your panties remain and Osferth makes a short work of them, after he has kneeled in front of you. 

There’s nothing as erotic as standing naked between your still clothed lovers and they know how much you like this, how many goosebumps bloom on your skin where the elegant material of Aemond’s suit touches you, how much your legs tremble as Osferth kisses over your mons pubis as his fingers splay on the front of your thighs.

You don’t know where to put your hands, all of the sudden, as if this is the first time with them

“Hold on me” Aemond whispers in your ear and your hands go to the nape of his neck, fingers crossing there, leaving you gloriously exposed to your lovers.

“You have the most delectable pussy, my love” Osferth’s hot breath tickles your mound and you know this is going to be a long night, where fight as you might, you won’t have the upper hand, even with Aemond who is usual the subbest of you three

“And the best hips to grab a man could have ever asked for and the softest breasts” Aemond says, his left hand on your hip, the other making his way slowly from you neck to your bosom

“You… you planned this” you manage to say, your voice already broken with need

“Teamwork” Osferth beams, before burying his face in your pussy.

HIs tongue kitten licks your clit and your hips move forward on their own accord, giving him the chance to grab your ass to plaster your cunt against his face. He wants to eat you out slowly, with long licks up your slit, using the flat of his tongue as his nose moves against your clit with each of his moves until you sob, the stimulation not enough to bring you to orgasm and he decides to have pity on you, his tongue licking your bud with broader strokes until his lips curl around it, sucking harshly on the hardened nub without pity and you orgasm for the first time tonight. You are thankful that your lover’s hand are there to support you, because your legs quiver as Osferth doesn’t stop, his long fingers in your pussy entering and moving in and out at a slow pace, meant to prolong your orgasm as Aemond keeps kissing you neck, his fingers spreading you lower lips for Osferth to see how your hole clenches around his fingers. You keen at that, feeling exposed, seen in your desire. A long litany of please fall from your lips as Osferth finds your g-spot and focuses all movements there, wanting to make you come just by his fingers only, as you move your hips desperately, knowing he won’t stop until you finish, but you are not sure if you are capable, not after your first orgasm being so close; he seems to know and his free hand pushes against your lower belly as Aemond’s hands pinch your nipples and he is whispering in High Valyrian in your ear. It is too much, too much pressure, it is too hot to breath, your nipples sending shockwaves of pleasure directly to your clit as pleasure builds and builds and builds until you squirt violently, the pleasure makes you knees bend 

“You are so good, love” Osferth’s praises come from far away

“You did great - Aemond kisses your sweaty temple - do you think you have another one in you?”.

You shake your head while he helps you on the floor and kisses your trembling lips the moment you are both lying there, his tongue softly playing with yours as you try to focus, but you can’t, not with the way his hands roam your torso and lower belly. The moment he helps you spread your legs, you realize Osfeth’s fingers haven’t left your pussy and your hole is still contracting around his digits.

“I believe she does Aemond, she just needs a little push” he says, his fingers curling while his lips attack your clit again.

You try to move your hips but there’s nowhere to go, pinned by Osferth’s arm over your belly and Aemond’s scorching hot body behind you, his lips kissing your neck, his hands keeping your labia open for Osferth’s fingers and lips again. You can only let your head loll on his shoulder as you cry out, your hands instinctively scratching Osferth’s back until another orgasm crushes you and you scream, incapable of understanding how this one is even stronger than the other two before.

Your lovers curl around you, their caresses delicate as they help you come down from the high, their body heaths lulling you into relaxation

“Was it too much?” Aemond’s voice is laced with worry, he is still scared, after all this time, of bedding you too hard, of hurting you unintentionally

“I… I’m ok” you slur

“Do you want to be carried to the bedroom?” Osferth knows you can endure so much more, but he is going to give you nothing less of the best care, in between lovemaking sessions

“Yes, please”.

Both men help you on your feet and Osferth carries you bridal style to the bedroom, where he lies your body on the sheets 

“I haven’t kissed you yet”

“Not this set of lips, at least”

“I should rectify that immediately”.

His mouth slants over yours, his tongue already seeking entrance, which you give with a moan and he ravages you, he is still too wired up to be gentle, needing to use you to vent his frustration; if it was just the two of you, you’d already be bound and pinned like a beautiful butterfly  and he’d be listing all the depraved things he’d wanted to do to your body, with your permission.

Your hands tug at his clothes the moment he is on you, you need to feel his skin over yours and you don’t care about the ripping sounds you hear, you want him naked, you want Aemond naked as well, their bodies yours to explore, their cocks ready to be buried inside of you.

You loathe that he has to move backwards, away from you to remove his trousers; you try to follow him with your lips on his and this warrants you a laugh from him and a tiny slap on you cunt, which makes you moan and fall back on the bed, your legs splayed, your core already glistening. 

You notice Aemond at the end of the bed, naked, eye patch off and cock erected, the pupil of his lilac eye swallowed by the black of desire

“Seeing something that you like?” you ask, fingers opening your lower lips, he groans

“Everything” he answers, one hand cupping his balls, his teeth worrying his lower lip. He needs you so much

“You look like you might need a hand with that - you say, trying to go on all fours - let me suck your cock”.

Aemond lets out a strangled hmm as his fingers curl tighter around his balls; you are such an erotic vision he’s not sure for how long he is capable of resisting coming just by seeing you crawling towards him. You would have happily sucked him off but Osferth’s hands wound around your hips, forcing you backwards against his body

“Be good love” he chastises you

“But I really want to suck cock” both men groan at your words, the phantom memory of your lips around their manhoods is a threat to their composure

“Later, if you behave”.

You want to pout, but you don’t have the time to, since Osferth lies on the bed, with you stretched over him and Aemond crawls towards you until he is over you, his cock straining for your pussy

“May I?” he asks

“Yes” you moan.

Slowly he grabs his member and guides it to your slit, moving it up and down to collect your juices to lubricate himself before breaching you. He moans as if this is the first time your pussy welcomes his cock, your warmth intoxicating; in truth it’s the intimacy provided by the position you three are that makes him shiver, the fact that he can kiss the two of you at the same time, your soft moans as his hips move deep and slow inside of you give him the guidance he needs to know he is doing good. Osferth’s praises directly into his ear are heady and the way he cups your breasts to offer them to his hungry mouth, make his control crumble and his hips move faster in your heat. You are a trembling mess, sandwiched as you are between your lovers, your clit continuously stimulated by Aemond’s pubic bone, his thick cock tearing you in two as he pushes and pulls against your G-spot; God you can feel every inch of him searing inside of you, molding your pussy into the perfect sheath for his cock and you hands fly to his buttocks, forcing him to go as deep as he can, to split you in two, to ruin you for anyone else but him and Osferth. The moment his hips pick the faster pace, the only thing you can do is cant your hips and moan, his lips ghosting over yours as broken High Valyrian spills from his mouth, a string of “Kessakessatolīkessakostilus'' yesyesmoreyesplease, against your lips as the friction increases as does the brutality of his peace and the squeeze of your cunt’s muscles until you come, kick starting his own orgasm. You both scream, your body curling around his, never wanting to let him go and he loses all strength, falling inside your embrace, his breath short and Osferth is forced to turn all of you on the side, before you crush him.

You frantically kiss Aemond, your hands still on his hips to prevent him to leave your cunt, needing to feel that connection as both your orgasms subside; you don’t need to ask him if he’s all right, the joyous way he kisses you lets you know he has enjoyed himself

“Avy jorrāelan” he whispers against your lips

“I love you too, and you as well” you say, burrowing against Osferth’s front

“You were both beautiful - Osferth says with a soft smile, even though his cock hurts - perfect”

“Kirimvose issa jorrāelagon” thank you my love, spills from his lips, the pleasure forcing him to revert to High Valyrian, until his brain starts working normally.

You reach backwards into Osferth’s hair to grab the blond strands to press your lips against his; your body is tired but you need him as well, wanting him to find peace in your depths

“Osferth, please”

“Are you well enough to have me, love?” as much as he likes fucking you until you are midless with pleasure, he knows he is walking a thin, fucking line here

“I am. You need this, do whatever you want to me”

Your submission is heady now, as it had been the first time; it sucks the air from his lungs, the knowledge that you are happy to have him, even though you must feel tired and sore, that part of your pleasure derives from him using you to pleasure himself. It’s convoluted and not many people would understand that, sometimes, this is what you two need. He can’t torment you the way he would were Aemond not here, he would have you dangling from your delicate wrist, your feet barely scraping the floor as he prepares to mingle pleasure with pain, but that doesn’t really matter. His other lover's hard limits are a way for Osferth to be creative with his use of you like his personal whore.

He lets you kiss Aemond one last time and then helps you on your knees, he spreads them open and keeps you in this position using his, bearing the weight your legs cannot right now. You let your body against his, safe in the knowledge he will not let you fall, while his right hand travels to your navel, to dip in your pussy to play with it and with the combined comes dripping down your tights, tortured moans escape your mouth. His fingers breach you long enough to collect enough spunk to lube his own cock and then he enters you with a swift movement that makes you scream in pleasure and pain, your walls still reeling from the orgasm Aemond has given you. Osferth’s right hand flies to your neck and curls there, his left grab you hip to make you start to move on his shaft. Every upward movement is met by your hips going downward, each pass forcing a bit more of his cock inside of you as your hands scrabble uselessly at his arms, trying desperately to release his hold on you, but you are not allowed to go anywhere, not until his cock has breached you open completely and you sit on him, his manhood buried completely in your heat. The hand around your throat constricts you airflow and you feel dizzy, torn between moaning and breathing

“I should keep you like this for the rest of the night, warming my cock, would you like me to use you like this?” his hand uncurls to let you speak

“Yes, please, whatever you want” 

“Or shall I fuck my load inside of you, mindless of your pleasure? I made you come with my mouth, haven’t I? You had your fill for the night”

“Yes, I love you” you start feeling your mind unraveling and fight to answer his questions

“I think I shall fuck you like this, see if I can make you come again - your cunt clenches violently at his words, you know he is able to extract orgasm after orgasm from your body, even when you think you don’t have any more to give - Your cunt is far more honest than your mouth, I shall expect that from you, my beloved whore”.

His hands curl on your hips to move your body in tandem with his and your knees give up after the first pushes, the pleasure too great for your body to compute and you let yourself feel, your head lolled back on his shoulder, your lips seeking his. Each and every thrust tears you asunder and knits you back together, never quite pushing against your G-spot, keeping you dancing on the edge as your nerves scream, too overwhelmed to properly carry on the right message. It’s pleasure, it’s pain, he’s killing you and making you feel alive and you start screaming, mindless, animal-like wails as your mind takes off and the mixed signals of your body make you quiver and shake. You don’t really feel Aemond’s forehead against yours, his words don’t register in your ears, but his warmth does and you let yourself grab at him, scratching the delicate skin of his shoulders as he helps Osferth move your spent body. The moment Osferth decides to focus on your G-spot, your body starts thrashing violently, every cell screaming that you can’t come any more, but the heat builds and builds and builds the moment he fingers your abused clit and you scream and beg that you can’t, please and he just continues, his thrust focusing on that spot inside of you; he needs you to come around him for him to sink into oblivion with you. When the knot in your belly snaps violently, your brain blanks and you don’t feel Osferth coming inside of you, his groans of pleasure as his cock spurts ropes and ropes of cum inside your walls, you are just a rag doll in their combined embrace, your body too heavy for you to move and you close your eyes, not even shivering when his cock leaves the embrace of your spent cunt.

You come back to your senses in the bathroom, sitting slouched on the counter, Aemond in front of you, making sure you don’t fall over

“Hey” you croak, trying to smile

“Welcome back, raqiarzy. How are you feeling?”

“Like I have run three marathons at the same time” this elicit a quiet smile in Aemond, who kisses your nose

“Do you think you can sit without my help?”

“I should - your body feels loose, every muscle overused - Why is the water running?”

“Osferth is drawing us a bath”

“Get you a man who can do both: fuck you into unconsciousness and then bathing you.”

“You looked like a goddess - his forehead finds yours - so beautiful. I couldn't stop staring. You, being taken like that… you were the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my entire life”

“You look quite dashing yourself when we manage to fuck you into unconsciousness - you smile at the way he blushes still, after all this time - I love you, I’ll love you always”

“Nyke jāhor va moriot jorrāelagon ao” I will love you forever; how are you supposed not to cry?

Osferth joins you in the bathtub after a while, you and Aemond already chilling in the hot water. When you had bought this home, the boys were not part of your life and you still compliment yourself for choosing such a big tub that three adults can fit without a problem.

Osferth stares at you two for a moment, you look so relaxed, eyes closed and hair up (God forbid Aemond gets his hair wet, his ridiculous thirteen step hair care routine would take all night to complete) and his heart swells with love for the two of you. He is not sure what he has done to deserve you both, but he is simply grateful that you are in his life.

Gently he slips into the water and you and Aemond open your eyes lazily. Slowly you lift your arms so that he can hug you and he is mesmerized, as usual, by your breasts: the delicate skin and the darker hue of your nipples make his brain short circuit

“Earth to Osferth? Do you copy?”

“Yes” he burrows his face against your neck as Aemond’s long arms embrace you both.

You stay like this for a while, Osferth needing the closeness after the gift of your submission, after your lips desperately seeking his as he fucked you brutally, as if you needed him to own you in every way. The whole experience gives him a high nothing else can compare to and requires him to be close to you afterwards, his body seeking yours as a safe haven.

“Let me wash your hair, Osferth” you say softly.

You are still so surprised of how much of a softie your Osferth can become, after dominating you. It’s not only his need for close contact, it’s his whole posture, the soft sounds he makes, how sleepy he looks and how thicker his accent becomes. It’s like there’s two men sharing his body: one cruel and domineering in the bedroom, the other delicate like a dandelion; the first one you can’t win against, when he decides to pop up, the second can fold just by the push of your full breasts against his chest.

“Yes, please, I would like that” Osferth says with a mellow voice as he turns in your embrace.

You try to reach for his shampoo but it’s actually Aemond who passes it to you with a grimace (he just hates the stuff. The ingredients list only gives him a rash and how good can a product be, when it’s shampoo, conditioner and body wash, three in one?), reminding himself that he truly needs to kidnap Osferth for a full day, in order to teach him some skin and hair care routine; but that’s for another day, at the moment he only wants to lie his head back on the rim of the tube and listen to Osferth’s moans of pleasure as your hands massage and caress his scalp. Oh boy does he moan after every single time your hands work the lather in his short hair, your fingertips pushing in the right places, relaxing him even more than he already feels and you keep going for longer than it should be needed to wash someone’s hair, just because he needs this form of closeness as he does need to dominate you and it’s a way for you to show him how much you care about him and how grateful you are for the way he protects the gift of your submission.

The only reason you decide to dry yourselves and go to bed, is the cooling water, making you all shiver, even Aemond who usually gives off ridiculous amounts of body heat. You can stand, even though your legs shake a bit and you thank God tomorrow is Saturday and you don’t have to go to school; kids are way too good at noticing things.

You dry one another with love and care, you and Aemond focusing especially on Osferth, who is still in that headspace where he is soft and needs to feel loved and cared for. 

You let Aemond take your hand to guide you back to bed, Osferth is plastered against your back, his breath hot against your cheek; he’ll need a good chunk of the night to come back from the drop of endorphins he is experiencing right now.

Your lovers still need you, thus you are positioned in the middle, so that they can sleep with their heads on your chest and belly. Their anger is gone, drowned by the depths of your body and now they need your softness to reach their balance again. You are the only person capable of quiet the storm inside of them and they are never letting anyone hurt you. You’ll ask them tomorrow to delete all information they have gathered about those women, they kept you safe when you needed to, their job is done for tonight.

[olderthannetfic]

https://newrepublic.com/article/120689/babdook-what-it-says-about-you-if-you-enjoy-horror-movies

This is from years ago but I had to go dig it up for the "cozy horror" conversation.

The article claims that horror fans are more likely to lack empathy. But the study they mention didn't survey horror fans, it surveyed people who watch horror movies on dates. Maybe choosing a movie for a date without regard to your partner's tastes demonstrates a lack of empathy, and the genre or content of the movie itself doesn't have much to do with it?

It claims that horror fans are more like to "be aggressive and thrill-seeking". That one I'll give a pass. Horror movies themselves are a specific kind of thrill. Anecdotally I wouldn't say that I or any other horror fan is more aggressive than the general population, but if a study lumped aggression and thrills together as one metric it'd be impossible to sort out (horror authors and other creatives, in my experience, tend to be fluffy bundles of joy IRL. Jungi Ito is Tumblr's favourite example)

And horror fans are more likely to be men. The article straight up admits that its data there is outdated. Moving on.

And lastly, the one that ticked me off so much that I remembered this article for ten years. People who watch horror movies are more like to "be a man accompanied by a frightened woman". This one is based on a study from the 1980s (so outdated even ten years ago) and looked specifically at college kids watching horror movies in m/f pairs. This tells us absolutely nothing about people who enjoy horror, and a lot about college boys in the 1980s. I like to think that college boys in the 2010s and 2020s are a little different, since gendered expectations have shifted a little over the last 30-40 years. But even without that, I cannot stress hard enough that this study did not look at people who like horror movies, not to mention that adults of all genders are usually more mature than college kids in their interactions with fiction and with their movie-going partners.

And also, since this is Tumblr specifically and fandom in general, we have to mention that when gender comes up, the article is talking exclusively about studies that did not account for queerness.

If we want to talk about horror movies in a fannish context, we have to understand that a large portion of the audience will be queer in some way or another. It's simply not fair to say "college boys like it when their girlfriends are scared of horror movies, therefore horror fans are doing some sort of macho endurance posturing" when you've got an audience full 35 year old pensexuals without genders going "actually, I just think it's neat when monsters eat people".

--

When I was younger, I thought I didn't like horror...

And this was because I grew up in an era of particularly boring-to-me slasher movies that were usually also pretty misogynist.

Turns out I like gialli fine. It's just 1980s US horror of the most mainstream type that I hate.

I am singularly unsurprised that women on dates in the 1980s were unimpressed with this choice of movie.

I'll take articles about horror seriously only if they start by going to one of those Lovecraft conventions or something and actually dealing with the Horror Fandom as it exists today.

[giallifilm]

(some) inspirations for my muses

torment jr.: various isekai anime

hel: an old wow character

silas: classic vampire flicks (nosferatu, vampyr, etc.)

sadie: the book house of psychotic women

annie: living in an area with too many storms + a fixation on natural disasters

tegan: horror itself and its social commentary

aubrey: txf

sibella: cowboy bebop

daisy: cosmic horror + the white vault

karolina: gialli films + final girls

reed: hbo barry

lara: longlegs, zodiac, se7en

[twittercomfrnklin2001-blog]

Friday the 13th

I thought I had reviewed all of the Friday the 13th movies, but after showing Sean S. Cunningham’s original FRIDAY THE 13TH (1980, On Demand) to a friend who’d never seen it, I discovered I hadn’t done the first or the second. This was the latest of many viewings of one of the original slashers, and this time, watching with someone else, I noticed some things:

The film obviously borrows heavily from John Carpenter’s HALLOWEEN (1978), most notably with an opening murder set in the past, though Cunningham’s film provides no shocking revelation of the killer (that was saved for later) and provides the keys to a more concrete motive.

The big mistake in that opening sequence is partly shared with some scenes in HALLOWEEN. It starts with what seems to be a subjective camera shot that isn’t. Later, when it finally becomes a subjective shot with the killing of the two camp counsellors, Cunningham makes a mistake of his own. He breaks the tension by switching to an objective shot as the first counselor is killed.

Until my friend pointed it out, I hadn’t realized how androgynous the final girl (Adrienne King) is. Her short hair may have been intended to contrast with the female victims, and of course, it was the popular Dorothy Hamill cut of the period, but it also creates an intriguing sexual ambiguity that helps support Carol J. Clover’s contention in MEN, WOMEN AND CHAINSAWS: GENDER IN THE MODERN HORROR FILM that the final girl derives her power from her virginal, almost asexual status.

The final battle is a rarity for the period in depicting two women going at it hammer and tongs without a man as the source of contention. Yes, I know Jason’s death motivates the film, but they’re not exactly fighting over him.

I still maintain the best ending for the film would be for the final girl’s mother to come into her hospital room and be played by Betsy Palmer. Yes, it would mean there wouldn’t be any sequels (“Big loss,” I hear some of you saying sarcastically), but it would provide a much more interesting note of ambiguity. Or have I been watching too many gialli?

[eurosleazarchive]

what i love about gialli are the fact the women look like...normal people. they have belly rolls. they have bush and armpit hair. their tits sag. it's so cool to see!

[world-cinema-research]

Final Course Essay - Grant Montoya

Of all the films we were able to watch this semester, these chosen four best illustrate my personal insight into the evolutionary process films have undergone in the past decades. Each are similar in structure I'd say, but each are very different in which aspects are most highlighted or worked on.

The oldest of the bunch (Five Easy Pieces) was released in 1970 and is a part of the American New Wave film era. Many films from the seventies undermine their own narrative goals by mixing irrelevant plot details and stylistic choices that clash with the main story. This is seen in the character dialogue, atmosphere, and plot, and these creative choices have seemed to be inseparable from the way movies are created. Having picture along with words and audio simply allows directors to integrate challenging things!

Here, the character lead Bobby Dupea says this: "Where the hell do you get the ass to tell anybody anything about class, or who the hell's got it, or what she typifies! You shouldn't even be in the same room as her, you pompous celibate!" We never see the spoken-to character again. This happens more than a few times throughout the movie.

"I felt that the character that I was trying to write the movie about should be about a man who was condemned to search for the meaning of his life- and not a very happy search at that."  - Bob Rafelson

Five years later emerges the film Deep Red, a film that is best described as “the underrated Jaws that didn’t quite make it.” This was near the end of the New Hollywood Cinema Era, entering the blockbuster era. In the film we see an increased use of associative horror methods, especially touched up by the director because it is his natural style. We see this in the music cueing, imagery, scenery, and other subtle conventions.

This article informs us in short that Deep Red was a transitional film in Argento’s career, bridging the gap between his earlier gialli and his later leanings towards the supernatural in features like Suspiria, Inferno, and Phenomena. The thing I like most about this film is how it reflects the daring nature of directors of the era, mega franchises haven't been established yet, and the notable, most-referenced flicks of today were still in the making. A simple slasher of a movie such as this is true to the director's vision because there wasn't much to replicate or steal from.

In the mid-eighties, the VHS era was in its mid-life and Blue Velvet was there to endear audiences with its strange vibe. The power of music was harnessed in this film, and like Argento, the power of association via the resurfacing of images, audio, etc. was apparent in the directing of the film.

Frank Booth - "Have you ever been to pussy heaven?"

Out of all films, Hofstede’s cultural dimensions were most prominent from here onward, in this instance there was a strong presence of inescapable masculinity, roles that were inflated and satirized in the most general way concerning characters that were supposed to be part of a thriller/mystery film. 

1986 was one of the most progressive years for the feminist movement, with protests that aimed to keep abortion and birth control legal. “The largest march for women’s rights in U.S. history occurred on March 9th in Washington, D.C." Although Blue Velvet wasn't based off of this event, the transformative years of the US and the arrival of a new digital age probably gave filmmakers a lot of inspiration and motivation to implement these new themes into their movies...

Finally, enter Punch-Drunk Love, the newest film I have watched in this class (2002). I think it perfectly epitomizes everything that even the modern age films today are trying to go for, which is relatability with elements of surprise. The style, lead, and visual chops of the films today are praised more so than the content of their character or the deeper message of the movie. Punch-Drunk Love lands itself in a healthy midrange, while even referencing a one-off event concerning a man 4 years from its release.

"In 1999, the civil engineer from California catapulted into fame after he earned a whopping 1.2 million airline miles by taking advantage of a Healthy Choice mail-in promotion by purchasing a ridiculous amount of pudding." The idea of a single man taking advantage of a coorperation is a wacky instance of the situations we can find ourselves in, in a super modernized world.

While the artsy side of films grew, you still expected a more polished narrative than from something many years before it. To me, the cultural model of Indulgence vs. Restraint is followed but through a more personal way, as the film represents the journey of a person who cannot thrive in an indulgent society. I do not think necessarily that my chosen films nationally represent cultures, however, I can see how this could be the case if my film selections were a bit different and held those discussions.

"Punch-Drunk Love captures the contingency at the heart of post-romance romance. Instead of the layers of expectation habituated into institutional engagements of two subjects meeting, there is the accident of the event of love within which various parties are arrayed with various affects and desires." Even here, the author of a critical evaluation of this movie does one of the deepest dives beneath the surface of any critical resource I've seen yet. After I read this, I wondered just how much I was missing or under appreciating the films I had watched once and got nothing from. To what extent are directors pouring meaning into the meaningless side events in a film? How much have I misinterpreted?

After taking the same writing approach for a couple of months now for many different films, I see now what the course has aimed to achieve and I think it has done so in the best way, a way that only social media could allow. Firstly, social media gives the sense of being a free writer, or making observations of your own volition. The effect is an easy writing process that feels natural, and sometimes I go beyond the expectations and answer my own questions. By collecting critical, historical, textual, and contemporaneous events for a film and listing them out on a platform with your thoughts, it’s clear that a greater understanding of the film era landscape, people involved, deeper messages, technological limitations, and style of contemporary films will be learned about. Feedback from classmates is the cherry on top.

The way I see things, movie discussion, as well as music discussion, will seemingly never be an interest that the majority will partake in. I never hear about the use of Tumblr outside of this course, and I have never had an account before it. There are many independent media discussion forums on the internet, and I think the best hope for a film buff would be to find a niche online and contribute what they can in their little corner of the internet. In critical discussion of film, people not only sharpen their writing skills but also immerse themselves in cultures old and new; it is simply a learning experience like no other.

[giallofever2]

Happy Women’s Day

The Most Beautiful Girl in the World (1994 song)

... Could you be

The most beautiful girl in the world

It's plain 2 see

You're the reason that God made a girl

When the day turns into the last day of all time

I can say, I hope that you are in these arms of mine (oh yeah) (beautiful)

When the night falls before that day I will cry

I will cry tears of joy cause after you all one can do is die (oh yeah)

Could you be

The most beautiful girl in the world (beautiful)

It's plain 2 see

You're the reason that God made a girl (beautiful)

How can I get through days when I can't get through hours

(tick tock you don't stop, tick tock you don't stop)

I can try but when I do I see you and I'm devoured

Oh yes

Who'd allow, who'd allow a face 2 be as soft as a flower (oh yeah)

(beautiful)

I could bow and feel proud in the light of this power

Oh yeah (beautiful)

Could you be

The most beautiful girl in the world (beautiful)

It's plain 2 see

You're the reason that God made a girl (beautiful)

Oh yes you are

Beautiful

And when the stars fall one by one from the sky

I know mars could not be 2 far behind

'cause baby, this kind of beauty has got no reason 2 ever be shy

'cause honey this kind of beauty is the kind that comes from inside

Could you be (could you be)

The most beautiful girl in the world

So beautiful, beautiful (beautiful)

It's plain 2 see (it's plain 2 see)

You're the reason that God made a girl (beautiful) (ooh yeah yeah yeah yeah)

Could you be

Beautiful (beautiful) (oh yeah)

Beautiful

Beautiful

The most beautiful girl in the world (oh yeah)

Beautiful

Yeah yeah yeah yeah

Could you be

The most beautiful girl in the world

Surely baby, you must be (beautiful)

Plain 2 see (plain 2 see)

You're the reason that God made a girl

You're the reason (beautiful)

Could you be (yeah)

Beautiful (beautiful)

The most beautiful girl in the world

Oh right

By : Prince Rogers Nelson

Testo di The Most Beautiful Girl In The World © Universal Music Publishing Group

Artista: Prince

Album: The gold experience: prince #themustbeautifulgirlintheworld #edwigefenech #happywomensday #womensday #festadelladonna #festadelladonna2019 #womensday2019 #prince #princerogersnelson #giallofever

[sarusantacroce]

Thriller MurderInTheTremitiIsles or is a mean to say StopViolencesFaitesAuxFemmes ViolenceAgainstWomen

[sciatu]

I TETTI DI MODICA E IL GATTO

A volte avrebbe voluto essere un gatto, uno di quelli grigi, gialli gli occhi, lunghi artigli e vivere sui tetti della nobile Modica, solitario e libero. Nutrito dalle donne, vagabondo per scelta, egoista con chi l’amava e opportunista con chi lo accarezzava.

Nascondersi in alto tra le foglie dei fichi in estate, nel buio di una vecchia soffitta nel freddo inverno, vivere nelle notti sentendo sotto le zampe il calore del giorno rimasto nelle tegole d’estate, veder la pioggia lucidare i tetti e nutrire le muffe grigie attaccate sui tetti in autunno. Avrebbe cacciare solo per divertimento; cacciare piccoli topi o gli uccellini caduti dai nidi delle grondaie. Cacciare senza pietà, perché la pietà non serve in un mondo che pensa solo a sé stesso. Essere un gatto senza padrone e doveri, solo questo voleva, evitando i suoi simili, vivendo come i vecchi dei suoi miti pensieri, senza rancori, senza le prigioni e gli affanni del tempo padrone del mondo. 

Questo solo voleva, far le fusa ad una donna e rubarle carezze ed un piccolo boccone, passeggiare sui tetti di notte, godendo del silenzio nella luna piena o del richiamo d’amore delle gatte stanche della loro solitudine e come lui in cerca di una compagnia provvisoria senza parlar d’amore che l’amore dura sempre solo una stagione e come il mare, non restituisce mai quello che prende. Avrebbe voluto essere solo questo, un grosso, grigio gatto sui tetti di Modica.

Sometimes he would have liked to be a cat, one of those gray, yellow eyes, long claws and living on the roofs of the noble Modica, lonely and free. Nourished by women, a wanderer by choice, selfish with those who loved him and opportunistic with those who caressed him.

Hiding high up among the leaves of figs in the summer, in the darkness of an old attic in the cold winter, living in the nights feeling the warmth of the day under the paws left in the summer tiles, seeing the rain polishing the roofs and feeding the gray molds attached on the roofs in autumn. He would hunt just for fun; to hunt small mice or birds that have fallen from the nests of the gutters. Hunting without pity, because pity is useless in a world that thinks only of itself. To be a cat without a master and duties, only this he wanted, avoiding his fellow men, living like the old men of his mild thoughts, without rancor, without the prisons and worries of time, master of the world.

This only wanted, to purr a woman and steal caresses and a small bite, to walk on the roofs at night, enjoying the silence in the full moon or the call of love of the cats tired of their loneliness and like him looking for a company provisional without speaking of love that love always lasts only one season and like the sea, it never returns what it takes. He would have liked to be just that, a big, gray cat on the roofs of Modica.

[ladamarossa]

Erika Blanc in A Dragonfly for Each Corpse (1975)

[sexualintimidationdemon]

Day 26

Reflections on: Blood and Black Lace (1964)

This may have the greatest opening credit sequence of all time! The colours! The shapes! Molto bello!

Everyone is dramatically lit and acts over-the-top.

The cast consists of so many beautiful women that it’s hard to keep them all straight.

As with many gialli, the dubbing is ridiculous. The diction is bizarre. One of the male characters sounded like a computer speech synthesizer. 

This was the first giallo! I can see why it was so widely imitated. It’s a beautiful melodrama!

Whenever a woman is attacked by the killer she makes absolutely no attempt to fight back. They’re so helpless they practically go limp :/

Excellent clothes and decor. 

Don’t ask me to explain the plot to you. Murder.... fashion. That’s about it.

[hadarlaskey]

Why Dario Argento’s Deep Red remains a trashy masterpiece

A sweet children’s song, a Christmas tree in a cosy domestic setting, silhouettes on the wall showing one person viciously stabbing another, and then a blood-stained knife falling to the floor, by the shoes of a standing child. This is the prologue to Dario Argento’s Deep Red, and also its primal scene – the source of a trauma that keeps resurfacing over a decade later. It is also a piece of shadow play in the theatre of a disturbed mind, leading us to draw certain connections and inferences, while being open to more than one interpretation.

Indeed, much of Deep Red will involve the discussion and reading of minds and art. “Really, that’s good, very good,” pianist and music teacher Marcus Daly (David Hemmings) tells jazz band in the present scene that immediately follows the past prologue. “Maybe a bit too good. Too clean, yes, too precise. Too… formal. It should be more trashy.” Here Argento may as well be laying out the aesthetics of his own film, which comes meticulously crafted, operatic even in its baroque mannerisms, but which is nonetheless aiming low.

For the director is still working within the trashy sensationalism of the giallo genre in which he had already established his name and signature style with the ‘animal’ trilogy The Bird With the Crystal Plumage, The Cat O’ Nine Tails and Four Flies on Grey Velvet. Deep Red was originally intended to belong to this series, and its working title was the more bestial-sounding The Sabre-Toothed Tiger. But even if the film was briefly rereleased in America during the early ’80s as The Hatchet Murders, Deep Red eventually stuck.

After recognising that there is a “twisted mind” with “perverted, murderous thoughts” in her audience, Lithuanian telepath Helga Ulmann (Macha Méril) is later killed in her apartment. Her screams draw Marcus, her upstairs neighbour, to the scene, but he is too late. When questioned by the police he becomes convinced that one of the macabre pictures he saw in passing on Helga’s walls is now mysteriously missing. “Maybe,” fellow pianist Carlo Manganiello (Gabriele Lavia) suggests to Marcus, “that painting was made to disappear because it represented something important.” Yet as Marcus tries to remember, the mysterious killer wants a past crime to remain forgotten, and commits many more murders to cover a bloody trail leading all the way back to the primal scene.

It is not just a painting that must be found, but a supposedly haunted house, and a missing window (with a missing room behind it), and various infantile reproductions (whether on paper or fresco) of that first killing, all to piece together the identity of the killer. Barely helped by the incompetent police, Marcus reluctantly joins forces with ambitious journalist Gianna Brezzi (Daria Nicolodi), and as they become both investigative partners and lovers, the chauvinistic pianist learns the price of underestimating women. Much of this couple’s relationship was excised by Argento himself for the film’s original 100-minute theatrical version, but has been reinstated for a 126-minute edit whose additional scenes have never been dubbed into English.

It is well worth watching them. For while these scenes’ comic tone may sit oddly with the rest of the film, there is something about the sight of Marcus sunk into the broken passenger seat of Gianna’s barely functioning little car, that perfectly encapsulates the folly in Marcus’s posturing masculine superiority. Here it is Gianna who is both positioned above her male passenger, and very much in the driver’s seat – and from this a more general lesson can be drawn about the film’s inversion of gender norms, at least according to the sexist Marcus. “Men and women are different,” he will tell Gianna, “Women are delicate, fragile.” Yet the film will repeatedly challenge his assumptions and prejudices about woman’s capabilities.

Deep Red was a transitional film in Argento’s career, bridging the gap between his earlier gialli and his later leanings towards the supernatural in features like Suspiria, Inferno and Phenomena. Indeed, much as Helga has the uncanny ability to read minds, in one scene here, her colleague Professor Giordani (Glauco Mauri) describes the telepathic powers of insects, and in so doing, practically predicts a key point of Phenomena’s plotting, a good decade before it was made. All the grotesquely bloody murders of Argento’s previous detective stories are here present and correct, while this is the first in a long musical collaboration with Italian prog rockers Goblin and their front man Claudio Simonetti.

As both Marco and the killer try to reconstruct the primal scene in their different ways – the one to solve a crime, the other to recreate its circumstances – Argento pulls off a genuine coup de cinéma by revealing the killer’s face remarkably early in the film, but in such a way that if you do not know what you are looking for, you will not see it, even though Argento plays entirely fair in the relevant sequence and the face is most certainly there. This film is very good, but also distinctly trashy, as the elegant art gallery in a Helga’s home hides a cleaver-wielding presence determined to paint and repaint everything deep red.

Deep Red is released on Limited Edition 4K UHD Blu-ray, DVD and soundtrack CD from 25 October via Arrow Film.

The post Why Dario Argento’s Deep Red remains a trashy masterpiece appeared first on Little White Lies.

source https://lwlies.com/articles/deep-red-dario-argento-giallo/

[brokehorrorfan]

Blu-ray Review: Forgotten Gialli: Volume 1

One of the most reliable distributors when it comes to unearthing obscure genre films, Vinegar Syndrome has released Forgotten Gialli: Volume One, a Blu-ray box set containing a trio of giallo - or, European murder-mysteries - that have never received distribution in the U.S.: 1973's The Killer Is One of 13, 1975's The Police Are Blundering in the Dark, and 1978's Trauma.

The Killer Is One of 13 is a Spanish giallo by way of Agatha Christie. Lisa Mandel (Patty Shepard, Slugs) invites a collection of acquaintances to her elegant, isolated home for reasons unknown to the guests. As she reveals over dinner, it's the second anniversary of her husband's mysterious passing, so she has gathered 13 people who may have benefited from his death, convinced one of them is responsible.

Despite the very specific title, there are more than 13 suspects when you factor in everyone; from guests to family members to the help. Director/co-writer Javier Aguirre (Count Dracula’s Great Love) and co-writer Alberto S. Insúa (Count Dracula’s Great Love) do an admirable job painting each character as a potential culprit, as everyone has both motives and flaws. However, as is often the case with ensemble murder-mysteries, it's difficult to keep track of the ancillary characters, some of whom are barely developed.

Far more restrained than its Italian brethren, the film's pacing is rather uneven. It's heavy on exposition throughout the first two acts, but the intriguing mystery drives it until the murders begin. That doesn't occur until 63 minutes into the 95-minute film, leading to an unrelenting, if rushed, final act. The big reveal isn't all that surprising if you pay attention to the clues, but it's not dissatisfying.

Cinematographer Francisco Fraile's (Dr. Jekyll vs. The Werewolf) ambitious camerawork - almost always roving or zooming - provides a kineticism to offset the long stretches of dialogue, even if focus is occasionally soft. A propulsive soundtrack would have helped further, but instead Alfonso Santisteban's (The Mummy’s Revenge) score is often hokey.

In addition to Shepard, the cast features several faces that may be familiar to Eurocult enthusiasts. Spanish character actor Simón Andreu (Beyond Re-Animator) plays a smug playboy; American expat Jack Taylor (The Ninth Gate) plays as an unappreciated artist; Spanish cinema royalty Carmen Maura (Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown) has an early role as the wife of an unstable older man; and Spanish horror legend Paul Naschy (The Werewolf vs. The Vampire Woman) has a small part as the chauffeur.

The Killer Is One of 13 has been newly restored in 2K from its 35mm original negative. The disc includes an audio commentary by film critic and Diabolique magazine editor-in-chief Kat Ellinger. Since information on the production is scarce, she contextualizes the film relative to the giallo subgenre, making for an interesting listen.

The Police Are Blundering in the Dark’s title is more interesting than the movie itself, as it seems director Helia Colombo (this being his sole credit) was blundering in the dark during the making of his Italian giallo. The cold open could be mistaken for a cliched '80s slasher: an attractive woman gets a flat tire and is chased by a killer through the woods, during which her blouse inexplicably opens as she runs, exposing her breasts before she's caught and stabbed with a pair of scissors.

It clocks in at a scant 87 minutes - rather brief by giallo standards - yet feels drawn out. The aforementioned woman is the latest in a string of murder victims, all of whom served as models for an impotent, wheelchair-bound photographer, Parisi. Giorgio D'Amato (Joseph Arkim), the journalist boyfriend of one of the victims, heads to Parisi's villa outside of Rome to investigate, learning that the photographer has invented a camera that captures its subjects' thoughts. This unexpectedly fantastical plot point is harnessed to solve the mystery a la Four Flies on Grey Velvet.

Despite being the most traditional giallo film of the trio included in the set, the picture fails to deliver on any of the pillars of the subgenre. After setting up a middling mystery, the midsection is bogged down by talky melodrama, while the eventual solution is preposterous. Beyond that, the kills are tame, Giancarlo Pancaldi's cinematography is pedestrian, and Aldo Saitto's score is forgettable.

The Police Are Blundering has been newly restored in 2K from its 35mm original negative. In lieu of an audio commentary, film historian and critic Rachael Nisbet provides a “historical audio essay.” It is exactly that; a breathless 16-minute amalgam of facts and critical analysis. It's thorough if dry, akin to reading a well-researched Wikipedia entry. A promotional image gallery is also included.

Not to be confused with Dario Argento's later giallo of the same name, Trauma is a Spanish giallo riff on Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho. It centers on Veronica (Ágata Lys, The Holy Innocents), who runs a quaint inn in rural Spain while caring for her unseen, handicapped husband. She's smitten with Daniel (Heinrich Starhemberg), a mysterious and charming author that checks in, to the point where she becomes visibly annoyed when other guests interrupt their flirting.

Director León Klimovsky (The Werewolf vs. The Vampire Woman) and writers Juan José Porto (Cross of the Devil) and Carlos Puerto (Satan's Blood) position the film as a mystery, but when a black-gloved assailant begins murdering the guests with a straight razor, the options for the killer's identity are quite limited.

The film is rather slow moving yet sleazy. Nearly every character, regardless of gender, sheds their clothing at some point. Cinematographer Pablo Ripoll (Tombs of the Blind Dead) captures it all with voyeuristic delight. Composer Ángel Arteaga (Frankenstein's Bloody Terror) crafted a Goblin-esque main title theme.

Starhemberg's position as executive producer of the film surely influenced the decision to (mis)cast him as the male lead. Beyond lacking chemistry with Lys, there are some unintentionally uncomfortable scenes in which he caresses a local boy. Antonio Mayans (Zombie Lake) plays an ill-fated hiker who takes refuge at the inn.

Trauma has been newly restored in 2K from its 35mm original negative. The disc includes an audio commentary by film historian Troy Howarth, who previously profiled the film in his 2019 book, So Deadly, So Perverse: Volume Three. Per usual, he takes a conversational approach to the track, which occasionally leads to tangents but ultimately provides a detailed analysis that digs into the history of giallo films.

Each of the discs is housed in its own Blu-ray case, and all three are packaged together in a box designed by Earl Kessler Jr. Limited to 5,000 units, it's available exclusively from Vinegar Syndrome. Having never been dubbed into English, the movies feature newly translated English subtitles to accompany the fresh scans.

A precursor to the slasher boom in the 1980s, the success of the giallo subgenre spawned a wide breadth of films, ranging from oft-discussed staples to hidden gems that barely saw a release beyond their theatrical debuts. With Forgotten Gialli, Vinegar Syndrome has breathed new life into three movies that fall squarely into the latter category. As it is subtitled Volume 1, I can only hope that more sets come to fruition.

Forgotten Gialli: Volume One is available now via Vinegar Syndrome.

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