#I mean I still enjoy other stuff that has propaganda in it like Knuckles (with its legitimisation and romanticisat of krav maga for example

[hadleysmis]

I'm emotionally going through it. Fuck, RRR is hindutva propaganda FUCCCKK

[zayashmaya]

Gods and Monsters - 4 - Honeymoon (part 1).

Marvus x Reader; SFWish

Other chapters here!

In which the limo becomes the ultimate wingman.

There are violets in your eyes There are guns that blaze around you There are roses in between my thighs and fire that surrounds you It's no wonder every man in town had neither fought nor found you ... 

- Lana Del Rey

You were propped up on Marvus’s lap from the moment the chauffeur closed the door behind him. It was a rather intimate gesture, but Marvus had insisted, and you knew him well enough by now to expect this sort of behavior from him. You even questioned him once about his tendency to always touch you, and he had claimed it was because he enjoyed your warmth, so you happily obliged his cold-blooded yearnings.

Marvus had chosen his singular seat that was strategically placed between a mini fridge and a bartop upon which rested several bottles of faygo. You discretely scrunched your nose as he took a generous chug. Not even the atmospheric tunes playing from the speakers could appease your rising hatred for that drink.

But Marvus mistook your leering for thirst, apparently. “Wanna lil taste?” he offered, jostling the faygo with a slight shake.

Would it be rude to refuse? Would it go against his religion, even? “Is this the same faygo they serve during service … ?” you asked, remembering how Chahut had prompted you to partake in the ritualistic consumption.

“Na b dis ain’t the cheap shit, u gotta try it.”

You hesitantly accepted the bottle, using both hands to tip it up. The cold, acrid nectar electrified your taste buds with its overpowering sweetness. With the amount of sugar and other obscure additives mixed into this noxious concoction, no wonder the purplebloods were prone to sporadic bouts of madness.

The limo rolled over a bump and made you spill some of the faygo from the corner of your mouth. “Damn it,” you muttered, wiping it away with your hand as you leaned over Marvus’s lap to set the bottle down, unaware of his gaze on your lips.

Before you could settle back into place, Marvus caught hold of your wrist. You felt your pulse quicken — was he upset with how you’re conducting yourself, wasting his favorite drink?

Judging by his cheeky grin and hooded eyes, you knew that was not the case.

Your anxiety disappeared instantly, only to be replaced with frozen shock as his tongue darted out to slowly lick away the sticky faygo on the back of your hand.

“Wh — I — Marvus — “

“Can’t let it go ta waste, ya no wat i’m sayin?” he cheekily said as you wiped off his spit on your dress. “So, wat b da verdict?”

God, you still felt the residual chill on your hand from his tongue. It had been so wet and smooth —

“Yo buddy, u gud?”

What would it feel like in other places — 

You snapped out of your wandering thoughts and prayed you weren’t blushing too hard. “Wh — what? Oh, it’s … it’s something, alright,” you meekly replied.

Marvus chuckled. “Don't stress it babe, i can see u ain’t too keen on da wicked elixir. It b written all over your face.”

You smoothed your hands over your cheeks and cursed the heat blossoming forth. “Don’t tease me, Marv,” you whined, turning away from him.

He gently grabbed your wrists and pried your hands away with ease, smiling at your mock pout. “I juss can’t help myself. Look at dat cute redness all over u. How’s a bro supposed to resist makin u flush, ‘specially when i no it’s all for me?"

Revealing one’s blood color to another was considered to be an intimate display of trust, as you’d learned when you first met Vikare. Maybe Marvus was just eager for some reassurance of your friendship? Troll culture sure is confusing.

A short buzz saved you from further provocation. Marvus seemed almost disappointed by the interruption, judging by how his smile fell into a flat line. But he excused himself all the same, busying himself with his palmhusk while grumbling about not getting enough free time.

You were tempted to check out the television, but the remote was cast away on another seat, and Marvus had tightened his hold around your waist while he spoke to someone who might have been his manager. Trapped as you were, you simply leaned onto his shoulder and looked outside, letting the ambient rap streaming from the speakers set the mood.

Through the tinted windows you could make out towering high-rises and neon signs flaring with Alternian government propaganda. A particular sign caught your eye for a brief moment as it passed by — written into a giant billboard in magenta were the words, the revolution will not be televised, because it does not exist.

Marvus snapped his fingers in front of you, prompting you to look up. He was startlingly close, you realized, and you very nearly got lost in those impossibly dark eyes before he asked, “Whachu thinkin abt, babe?”

You regarded him silently.

Here you were, legs propped up over the lap of a dangerous highblood. He had finished with his phone call, grazing his knuckles over the expanse of your leg. Strange, how you felt completely at ease with him, despite knowing what he was capable of. You were not an idiot — Marvus could command thousands of mindless trolls with the same flair of a ringleader in a circus, fanning the flames of crowd-induced mania simply for his own convenience. Blood spilled for his sake, sacrificial lambs led to a euphoric slaughter.

The propaganda sign was still burned into the back of your retinas, a haunting after-image that colored your world a dizzying lime, and you were reminded of Tyzias’s hushed whispers of a caste long-forgotten, lost to the depths of a magenta shadow.

Dead. The limebloods were all dead, as decreed by the Condesce.

Limelight, you thought. The focus of public attention. How ironic.

Marvus would one day have to carry out the Condesce's whims. He was certainly fit for it, having honed his craft as a global superstar. All of his life had been dedicated to his adoring fans, painstakingly perfecting his performances with an avid devotion to not only the populace, but to his very namesake, to whom he was destined to become.

And that is precisely why you pitied him. How different could his livelihood have been, how evolved beyond its empty meaning could it become, if only he could create music for music’s sake. Not for an inevitable life of servitude, forced to use his powers to control the masses.

If only he knew what true freedom meant. Not that your world was perfect by any means, but still, you wondered.

“I was thinking about music,” you replied.

He quirked a brow. “Don’t leave me hanging like dis now, i gots to b knowin wat’s cooking in that funky think pan of yours.”

“Well,” you started, wondering if what you were about to say was considered heretical. “I was just wondering what music means for your people. For my people, it’s traditionally been used for all sorts of reasons, but at its core, music has always been a form of self-expression, rebellion, and spreading messages of awareness. You know, like … problems with our society, and stuff.”

You paused and glanced at Marvus. Nothing about him seemed out of place — except behind his ever-present grin and hooded eyes hid a keen glint of intuitive understanding. “Dont lemme stop u bb,” he said with a wink. “I like to hear u spit sum faxxual truths at me abt alien culture.”

“You’re not going to rip me in half for saying these things?” You knew he wouldn’t, but it was your turn to tease.

Marvus had the decency to look scandalized. “Daaayum, dat hit me rite in the blood pusher,” he dramatically replied, slapping a hand over his chest. “I ain’t never given u no reason to think i’d hurt u!”

You smiled softly at his genuine concern, shuffling around for a moment to bring your knees on either side of his hips. Marvus looked a little out of sorts with your repositioning, eyes roaming over your further-exposed thighs as your dress rode up from straddling him.

“I know you wouldn’t hurt me,” you quietly said, placing your hand over his. “But I’ve been on this planet long enough to know danger when I see it.”

His fingers entwined with yours. “Damn strait, cuz.” He brought your hand up to his lips and gave a quick nip to your fingertips, gently so as to not scratch. You snatched it back with a giggle. “But btwn u and me, i think u’d give me a run for my cas$$shmunny, hunnie.”

“How so?”

He tapped two fingers against your temple. “The danger b all up in here.”

“The only thing dangerous about me is my lack of a brain — er, a think pan.”

“Na don’t sell urself short like dat, i b tellin u dat u wouldn’t have survived without sum street smarts.”

“That’s what I thought in the beginning,” you wistfully said. “Until I started realizing how my life has turned into an endless stream of do-overs. At this point, I’m more inclined to think that there is a higher power watching over me, guiding my way.”

Marvus hummed in answer, short and deep and with a hint of questioning. “Hey babe, lemme axe u sumthin.”

You wordlessly nodded, sobering up from the sudden change in mood. This was, perhaps, the first time you had ever seen him with such a thoughtful look on his face.

“You really believe in the Dark Carnival, sis?” His eyes appeared to flash with each passing lamp post, like a dangerous creature prowling in the darkness.

Long ago, you might have hesitated. Longer still, you might have faked your devotion in favor of friendship. Now, though … now you knew with resounding certainty.

“I really do,” you answered.

“How do u no for a fact?”

“Because I’ve been there.” Marvus frowned and leaned back against his chair. You did not let his skepticism deter you. “I died once, you know. I don’t really remember it, but I know it happened because whenever I’m in church, I can practically feel myself being lifted into another plane of existence. And — and there was a carousel,” you animatedly recalled, each bit of recollection stringing together lost memories until it felt like you were there again. “There were two angels who came to get my body, and there were weird mannequins occupying the other horses on the carousel, and there were paintings of clowns with smiles and frowns … And a purple figure holding something, and there was a lot of red and green — “

Marvus placed a hand against your cheek, and you felt your zealous excitement cool down to a happy daze. “Either u hittin da incense too hard, or dat was a mutherfxxn prophetic vision.”

“I dunno,” you slurred, leaning into his touch. “But it was real, Marvus. It was fucking real, and the only time I’ve ever really felt at peace since I got here.”

“Shiiiiit, lil mama,” he breathed in awe, running his fingers through your hair before grabbing your waist. “I ain’t gonna doubt u no more. If da messiahs deemed u fit for such an honor, then i fxxn bow to u.”

You giggled. “You do that anyway! Since I’m so short, ya see.”

“Yea, short n sweet,” he rumbled low, and you felt his touch run down your sides to end up at your thighs. At this point, you were fairly convinced he had a fixation.

It took a moment to catch up with his words. There you go again with your blushing. “Wh — what are you saying … “ you trailed off, shyly looking away.

“Only truths,” he replied. “Cuz all i see is truths all over u. Your skin b glowin like its covered in sum kinda special stardust n shit. Makes perfect sense tho.” He bared his sharp fangs in a wide smile, his eyes raking up and down your form as you felt his hands grip your thighs a little tighter. “Them leg struts b a muthafuxxin miracle, babe. And that’s a true fact, strait up.”

You felt the gears turning in your head while you processed what he said. Was he … ?

“Oh!” You leaned in towards him and bunched your hands into the fabric of his coat. Marvus craned his neck to bring his face closer to yours — for what reason, you couldn’t imagine — and it almost looked like he planned to close his eyes before you excitedly spoke, “You’re talking about that sparkly powder you guys use during prayer, right? And you use this stardust to pray for miracles, ergo my strut sticks, which apparently even the Grand Highblood approves of. That’s pretty poetic, Marvus. You really have a way with words! Although I guess you have to be, since it’s quite literally your livelihood."

Holy hell were you rambling.

Marvus reared back, eyes wide and mouth pursed in confusion. Whatever he saw in your oblivious face had him soften his expression, a light smile playing on his lips. “Pfft. Yea, lil mama.”

The limo suddenly lurched. You were propelled face-forward into Marvus’s chest, and you were tempted to compare his pecks to airbags, but that was too gauche, even by your standards.

“Sorry!” you squeaked, ready to scoot back to put some respectful distance between you, but his hands found their way around you and held you in place.

This was intimate. This was far more intimate than his usual touchy-feely self. You were frozen in hesitation, a bundle of nerves and unexplored emotions rising to the forefront of your mind. “Marvus … ?”

You couldn’t see his face, but you could feel him. Solid, sinewy flesh pressed against your cheek, cold to the touch and yet pulsing with a living beat.

“Wanna know another fact?” he quietly asked. You slowly nodded, and he continued, “You’re kinda one dense mofo, too.”

Well, that took a turn you were not expecting. Marvus loosened his grip to let you look at him face on. Your nose wrinkled in confusion as he watched you with an amused expression. “What do you mean?”

“Babe. Do i rly gots to spell it out for u? Maybe free-style some sicknasty beats to get dem thots cookin in ur think pan?”

You opened your mouth to speak before closing it to think for a moment. The prospect seemed rather exciting; how many people had the privilege of having this talented troll customize a rap for them? “I wouldn’t turn down a verse from you.”

“ :o) “ He reached out to carefully tuck your hair behind an ear — your heart fluttered — and leaned in to murmur:

”Lover lovin herself all up on me, Luscious hips, all curves and dips, And a burning touch That I just gotta worship like an effigy Ya hear me baby — “

Your hands clenched into fists against his chest.

“Red flushin and rushin like a river that flows I wanna b known how far down it goes."

You felt your breath leave your body.

Marvus finally leaned back to gauge your reaction. God, he was so close, hypnotizing you with those deadly bedroom eyes. You couldn’t look away. “Catch my drift now?”

It was at this very moment that your predicament became utterly, embarrassingly aware to you. “You wanted to pail me this whole time?!”

“Ye ;o) “

“But — but why?”

He furrowed his brows and tilted his head. “Whutchu mean why?"

You felt your cheeks burn as the onslaught of past remarks about your appearance surged forth to the forefront of your mind. “Because I’m not attractive to your kind,” you bluntly replied. “I’ve been compared to a mutated lusus, for goodness sake!”

“Hahaha lol!”

“That’s not funny!” You lightly smacked your palm against his shoulder.

Marvus settled down from his laughing bout, completely unperturbed by your attack. “U ain’t gotta give those muthafxxkas any of ur time or energy. Who gives a damn wat they b thinkin, they ain’t the ones who get to have u at the end of the nite. I like u for ur cute lil booty — “ He shamelessly patted your behind, and you admitted to yourself that it wasn’t an unwelcome advance. “ — and most of all, i fxxks whichu for how chill n funny u are. So don’t be all up and worried bout any of dat. Wouldn’t have u here otherwise.”

It was time for one of your famous, long-winded internal monologues.

Did you want this? Did you feel attracted to Marvus Xoloto?

Hell fucking yes, don’t ask yourself such stupid questions.

With that out of the way, on to the next point of consideration — were you ready to accept his propositioning?

Oh, how badly you wanted to say yes. The urge for friendship had long ago morphed into a consuming hunger for stronger bonds. You had even caved in to your whimsical desires and became rather well acquainted with troll anatomy … except everything crashed and burned right after your romp.

Lanque’s cutthroat critique bore into your heart and grew there like a festering wound ever since that fateful night. As such, you could not help but wonder whether Marvus would find you boring, too. Even worse than that, you wondered whether he was doing this to satisfy some sick curiosity about your body. Just another exotic thing to cross off his bucket list.

You did not want to believe those dark thoughts. Marvus had never treated you badly before — in fact, all evidence pointed to the contrary, that he was genuinely into you. But try as you might, your self-confidence was at an all time low. You were afraid to open up again.

Marvus patiently waited while you chewed on your bottom lip and looked away. As soon as your face darkened, he was there to reel you back in with a tap against your nose. You snapped out of your thoughts and drew your attention to him, afraid to see him irate or disappointed by your silence. Instead, you found him to be his usual smiling self.

“Don’t stress it so hard, cuz. U ain’t gotta do anythin u aint keen on, ya dig? I’ma getchu home like i promised, and we gonna forget dis happened.”

It should have been enough. You should have been happy with his suggestion, eager to put this all behind you and remain platonic friends, because you were still hurting from your last tryst.

So why did you feel bothered?

Marvus pressed a button off to the side of his armrest, and the driver’s voice crackled through a nearby speaker. “Yes sir?”

You were about to miss out on an important situation, your senses told you. And you needed to make a choice.

Some other you chose the sensible route. Some other you would return to your watchtower and never get this opportunity again.

But you were strong enough to push through your doubts, right when it mattered most.

You grabbed hold of his loosened bowtie —

“Sup buddy, we gotta — “

— and yanked him down to your level, smashing your lips against his.

[thecoroutfitters]

A progressive movement towards socialism is being taught in our schools, our universities and being touted constantly by people like Barack Obama or Hillary Clinton. They are planning a quiet takeover of the world. The question is how are we going to survive the globalist scenario they are struggling to impose.

This group of the globalist elite met just a couple of months ago, working to determine the fate of the world. These people, known as the Bilderberg Group, consist of world leaders in banking, business and politics. There’s a core group that comes together every year, inviting others to join with them as seems appropriate for that year’s agenda.

Bilderberg is one of the world’s most secretive organizations. While they publish a list of attendees every year and an official agenda, nobody but the attendees knows if it is accurate. They’re not allowed to take notes, tape recorders, photos, videos or copies of papers with them. Everything that happens at Bilderberg, supposedly stays at Bilderberg.

Only it doesn’t.

These people are the main driving force behind a one world government, trying to bring all the governments of the world under a central power. The model is the European Union, which they want to expand, setting up other regional governments, which will all eventually come under one common worldwide umbrella, giving control to the elite of the world.

This new government will be a socialist one. We see that clearly in what’s happening in Europe. As time has gone on, the various European countries have become more and more socialist, now that the Soviet Union has been dissolved and Russia has moved away from socialism.

Anyone who knows anything about Biblical prophecy can see the writing on the wall. One of the things that is talked about in the book of Revelations is that one world government. So it’s likely that if this group doesn’t succeed, then another like it will. It’s just a matter of time.

You and I really can’t do much to stop that.

We can vote for politicians who will oppose putting the USA under such a system, but that’s about it. Since there are about as many people who vote Democrat in our country as there are who vote Republican, chances are that we’ll be back under the progressive-liberal leadership of the Democrats once again. When that happens, the globalists will have their instrument in place to push the United States closer to becoming part of that one world socialist order.

Remember the UN small arms treaty?

Barack Obama and John Kerry signed it on behalf of the United States. But it was never brought before the Senate, as the Constitution requires. So it hasn’t been ratified. What that means is that it isn’t law here in the USA. But if we ever had a Democrat president and a Democrat controlled Senate again, it’s waiting in the wings to be approved.

Should that happen, we can expect the Democrat controlled government to do everything they can to implement the provisions of that treaty, taking our guns from us, and with it, taking our ability to defend ourselves from tyranny.

That’s a prerequisite for making the country socialist, as they need us to be good little sheeple, who can’t rebel against the government. That, in turn, requires taking our rifles from us, because you can’t fight a war with pistols.

What is the Battle We Have to Face?

The question for us, is how will we survive that transition when it comes? How will we keep from losing our guns and our freedom when the US joins that global disaster?

I think there are a few things that we can assume will happen, when that day comes.

I also think that we can assume that it will be voted in by the people, specifically the younger generation, who are being brainwashed into believing that such a thing would be good. These assumptions include:

Gun confiscation would be implemented before it happened.

Paper money would be eliminated, replaced by a RFID chip or something similar, linked to an electronic bank account.

Income taxes would skyrocket to pay for all the “free” stuff.

The government would start rounding up dissidents who opposed the new world order.

At first, the change will be made to look good. We saw this with the roll out of Obamacare. The government and the media touted it as a great success, quoting exaggerated figures of how many people were receiving free healthcare.

But what they didn’t say was that those people were signing up for Medicaid and that you and I were going to have to pay for it.

So we need to be aware of what’s going on behind the news; the truth of what Washington is doing, rather than the leftist propaganda that the mainstream media is pushing. We also need to be thinking about the news we are hearing, looking for signs that the USA is getting closer to joining that one world government system.

When that time comes, we will each have to make a decision. Actually, we should make it before that time comes, but even if we do, we’ll need to reaffirm it then. The three options we will have are:

Fight government troops in what will probably be a losing war.

Knuckle under and accept totalitarian rule over us, along with higher taxes and a loss of freedom.

Move to someplace where government agents will have a hard time finding us.

Of those three options, the third one is the most sustainable survival solution. If we stay where we are, in cities and towns, it’s too easy for the government to find us and control us. But if they can’t find us, they can’t do a whole lot to control us either.

This means either moving out of the country or moving to a remote area of the country where government agents would have trouble finding us.

Even at the height of the Soviet Union, there were people living on the fringes of society, who were not really accounted for. These people, many of whom lived in Siberia, were too far distant from the government and too few to really matter. So they were mostly left alone.

Of course, this means going totally off-grid and either living off the land or homesteading. You wouldn’t be able to have an e-mail account, a bank account or a Facebook account. For that matter, you wouldn’t be able to be online at all. Any electricity you consumed would have to be produced in house, as well as your food and pretty much everything else you would use.

Since there won’t be any money, it will be difficult to buy things without accepting the RFID chip or something similar. But there will always be a black market, as well as others who are working on the barter system.

Once again, we can use the now defunct Soviet Union as a model and see that they had the same. Shortages in the Soviet Union created a very lively smuggling business, especially for products that were made “in the west” but not available within their borders.

We can expect essentially the same thing, especially at the beginning. While many people will be quick to accept their chip, they won’t want to give up the freedom of buying with cash. So while greenbacks will not be usable for much of anything, there will always be people who are willing to accept gold and silver in exchange for products. Stocking up on these precious metals would be a good hedge against this system.

Another thing that would help is the ability to make things that you can use as trade goods. One of the ways that those living in Siberia were able to trade for things that they needed was by trapping and trading the furs. While that probably wouldn’t work here, other similar opportunities would show up, mostly based upon items that were in short supply.

Is Gun Control a Threat Anymore?

One of the biggest risks that any of us who attempt to drop off the grid would face would be government agents, probably UN troops, confiscating guns. While government agents tend to be a bit on the lazy side, soldiers are used to hardship. So they would seek us out, even in remote areas.

The solution is make sure that you have guns that are totally off the books, such as ghost guns, so that you could turn in the guns you’ve purchased over the counter and look like you’re obeying the law.

But you would still have your off the books guns at home. As long as you kept them out of sight, you could get away with keeping them.

Of course, that also means avoiding using them, unless you absolutely have to. So it would be a good idea to have an alternative, like a bow and be proficient with it. That would give you a means of hunting that is silent, wouldn’t attract attention, but would still provide you with meat for the table.

All in all, it would be possible to live and even enjoy a life of freedom in such a world; but it would require giving a lot up in order to maintain your freedom.

So the decision really breaks down to how much your freedom is really worth to you. What are you going to do to keep your family safe?

    This article has been written by Bill White for Survivopedia.

from Survivopedia Don't forget to visit the store and pick up some gear at The COR Outfitters. How prepared are you for emergencies? #SurvivalFirestarter #SurvivalBugOutBackpack #PrepperSurvivalPack #SHTFGear #SHTFBag