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6/25/2025, 2:43:04 AM
>>279960992
>Lots of his ideas border on homosexual.
Border?
>All great fistfights to the death are homoerotic, and the Devastators are deeply homoerotic to start with— the 80s glam rock BDSM style, the big sweaty muscles, the men obsessed with each other, often thinking obsessively about one another while half naked and declaring that they need one another for absolution, wrestling and grappling each others' muscly and sweaty bodies in struggles of dominance and strength. To that end, Yulaan actually ruins it by being female. She still does all the things that defines these sorts of stories— ripping off her shirt and grapple fighting sweaty and bloody muscle-bound men, bearing her own muscular body in the process. But the muscle worship and admiration of the male form is interrupted by her. In a world where females are scarce, where you can go months without seeing a woman or nonhuman female even while traveling extensively, where Devastator combat philosophy dictates powerful men must thrust themselves deep into the annals of bloody danger and risk and hold manly grudges against one another, where there are many shirtless fistfights between two men who passionately scream each other's name, where you're infinitely more likely to come across a girly rentboy than a maiden and the closest thing to a female warrior you'll get is an effeminate crossdressing eunuch. There's too much sausage, too much manhood, and the only girl on the entire planet presents a feint.
>Lots of his ideas border on homosexual.
Border?
>All great fistfights to the death are homoerotic, and the Devastators are deeply homoerotic to start with— the 80s glam rock BDSM style, the big sweaty muscles, the men obsessed with each other, often thinking obsessively about one another while half naked and declaring that they need one another for absolution, wrestling and grappling each others' muscly and sweaty bodies in struggles of dominance and strength. To that end, Yulaan actually ruins it by being female. She still does all the things that defines these sorts of stories— ripping off her shirt and grapple fighting sweaty and bloody muscle-bound men, bearing her own muscular body in the process. But the muscle worship and admiration of the male form is interrupted by her. In a world where females are scarce, where you can go months without seeing a woman or nonhuman female even while traveling extensively, where Devastator combat philosophy dictates powerful men must thrust themselves deep into the annals of bloody danger and risk and hold manly grudges against one another, where there are many shirtless fistfights between two men who passionately scream each other's name, where you're infinitely more likely to come across a girly rentboy than a maiden and the closest thing to a female warrior you'll get is an effeminate crossdressing eunuch. There's too much sausage, too much manhood, and the only girl on the entire planet presents a feint.
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