#banned books and female gaze

[aconflagrationofmyown]

One day I will shut up about the political and poetical and entirely unfair but oh so very real allure of working class male sexual appeal -y’all can come and lay flowers on my tomb when that day comes 🥂

Lady Chatterley’s Lover (2022)

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 9

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

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Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 💖💖💖

“This town looks peaceful to an outsider, a perfect place for a pensioner to spend their free time,” Steve commented, his gaze sweeping over the quiet streets.

“I guess the Bronze Lodge is their only destination,” you replied, noting the town’s well-known resort.

He nodded. “It's a great place and helps the economy. Most locals work there.”

You glanced around, recognizing a few faces from your past. “Hmm. I see some familiar people.”

“So, you've met the homecoming queen,” Steve said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“My number one hater,” you responded dryly.

“She will hate you even more after seeing how successful you've become,” Steve chuckled.

You nodded, and the ice between you began to melt as the conversation continued. The years apart seemed to fade as you shared updates and memories.

“Don’t you realize you're talking behind her back? Isn’t she your close friend?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Steve shrugged. “Not anymore. After graduation, all of us went our separate ways. Bucky went abroad to study business, Natasha pursued her modeling career, and others moved to different states.”

He sighed, reflecting on how time had changed their once-close group. As everyone grew older, they followed their own paths. But in the end, almost all of them returned to this town.

“What made me curious is Jake. I thought he would be the one to make it big since he won multiple competitions related to computers,” you said, recalling the prodigious talent he once displayed.

“Ah, Jake. He wanted to be popular so badly back then. Ironically, he got it in the worst way possible,” Steve replied with a hint of regret.

“What happened to him?” You leaned forward, intrigued by the unfolding story.

“Well… Jake got out of control with his IT skills and hacked the department of defense and he made a crypto scam.”

You gasped. “Really?” Would a guy like Jake do something like that?

“The government banned Jake from anything related to coding for a few years,” Steve explained, shaking his head.

“How did you know all of this?” you asked, impressed by his knowledge of the local gossip.

“His mother told her friend, and her friend told her hairdresser, and the hairdresser told everyone at the church,” Steve said with a wry smile.

Gossip travels fast. You almost spilled your hot jasmine tea, laughing at the absurdity. Steve quickly handed you a tissue, and you gratefully accepted it.

“Then… what do you think about Mayor Martin?” you asked, curious about the town's leadership.

Steve's expression turned serious. “I don’t trust him.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. Something was wrong if even someone as reserved as Steve didn’t trust the mayor.

⚰️

You went home, Steve's words still lingering in your mind. You needed answers, so you decided to ask your dad about what had happened in the town since you left.

Tom sat in his favorite armchair, engrossed in a thick book. Without looking up, he replied, “There haven't been any significant changes, except for the new resort owned by the Barnes.”

“But,” he continued, his tone growing more somber, “I have noticed an increase in the number of funerals I've conducted for a single travelers.”

'Single travelers?' A cold shiver ran down your spine at his words. "Who paid for the funerals?" you asked, your voice tinged with unease.

“The town mayor, Martin, has been kind enough to pay for the funerals,” Tom added, finally lifting his gaze from the book to look at you.

Your instincts screamed that Martin’s kindness had a hidden agenda. “Don’t you ever wonder why so many tourists die in this town?” you asked, your voice tinged with suspicion.

Tom chuckled, dismissing your concerns with a wave of his hand. “Are you saying there’s a serial killer in this town? That’s impossible. The police have deemed all the deaths accidents.” He closed his book and patted your shoulder gently. “You should go to sleep. You've been working too much.”

As Tom headed to his room, you remained in the living room, deep in thought. Your father, accustomed to dealing with death, seemed numb to its frequency. But not you. The increasing number of deaths didn’t sit well with you, and the mayor’s supposed generosity felt more sinister than charitable.

Should you and your dad leave this town? The question gnawed at you as you pondered your next steps. Once a familiar haven, the town now felt shrouded in mystery and danger.

👠

The next day, you returned to the hotel feeling renewed determination. As you walked into your office, you stopped abruptly. Once cluttered with documents and black binders, the table was completely empty. A wave of panic surged through you. Had someone stolen everything? The scene eerily reminded you of when the FBI raided your office and confiscated all your belongings.

You bolted out of the room and hurried to Bucky's office. As you approached, you heard raised voices from behind the closed door.

“You’re doubting me?” a woman exclaimed.

“At first, but now I have the evidence. Numbers don’t lie,” Bucky responded firmly.

“Hmph. I still can’t believe it. She’s only been here for a few days, and you trust her over your own mother?”

You couldn't take it anymore. You pushed the door open, making both Bucky and the woman flinch. “Are you doubting my skills?” you demanded, crossing your arms and standing confidently.

The woman turned to face you. She was Lydia Barnes, Bucky’s mother. At fifty years old, she exuded elegance and grandeur, her rich lifestyle evident in her designer clothing and impeccable grooming. She looked you up and down, her eyes narrowing.

Lydia remembered you. You used to be a shy girl who never met anyone's gaze. But now, you stood before her with unshakeable confidence. Your eyes, so full of determination, reminded her of someone she detested—your mother.

Lydia’s face hardened. “I see you've returned,” she said, her tone dripping with disdain.

“I have,” you replied, meeting her gaze steadily. “And I found discrepancies in the financial records. Someone has been embezzling money from this resort.”

Lydia's eyes flashed with anger. “How dare you accuse me?”

You maintained your calm demeanor, but your eyes locked onto hers with a sharp intensity. “I didn't accuse you, Mrs. Barnes. But why are you so defensive?” You let the question hang in the air, trying to bait her into revealing more. “It’s impossible for a business owner to steal from their own business, isn’t it?”

Lydia's face went pale for a moment before she recovered, her expression turning icy. She was momentarily stunned, clearly taken aback by your insinuation.

Bucky stepped in, his tone exasperated but calm. “Mom, we’ll discuss this later. Right now, we need to focus on the numbers and figure out what’s really going on.”

You took a step back, observing Lydia carefully. Her fists were clenched tightly at her sides, and her eyes were narrow slits of fury. She was clearly not used to being questioned, especially not in her own domain.

Lydia straightened up, regaining some of her composure. “Very well,” she said coolly. “But don’t think for a moment that I’ll let this go.”

As she turned to leave, you caught a glimpse of vulnerability in her eyes—a fleeting moment of fear that she quickly masked. It was enough to confirm your suspicions that there was more to this story than she was letting on.

Bucky let out a heavy sigh once she was gone, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about that. She’s...complicated.”

You nodded, taking in the tension that still lingered in the air. Lydia was an odd woman, and you couldn't shake the feeling that she harbored a deep-seated dislike for you. The first time you saw her was at her husband’s funeral—Bucky's dad.

Even then, her eyes had fixed on you like a tiger eyeing its prey. You always wondered what you had done to her.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

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Only if you feel like it!

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[thelov3lybookworm]

I was listening to hyunjin's Ice Cream and this idea came to me loll. Idk if you do these kinda requests but can you do a fic inspired by the ice cream lyrics? 🥹🥹

Azriel with reader who's really cold but he's still hopelessly in love with her? (I love hopeless romantic az 🫶🫶) but not too much angst please I need fluff and happy endings, otherwise my heart wouldn't be able to take it 😔

Ice to cream

Summary: Azriel has a stoic exterior, and no soul has ever really seen what is underneath.

But then he met someone as cold as ice, and was ready to be her sweet cream.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: okayyyyy i feel like sweet cream sounds weird but my brain thinks its cool so ignore it 😉

also, i looooove you anon, thank you for this ask ❣️

enjoy!

•○🌑○•

That day had been like any other.

Azriel had been walking down the winding streets of the city of starlight, whistling to himself.

It was rare that the shadowsinger whistled, but that day he had simply been feeling like it. It was also shocking to his own self how carefree he had felt that day and had decided to take a walk instead of locking himself up in his office and finishing up reports while wallowing in self pity since Rhys had banned him from visiting the third Archeron sister.

The day was beautiful, nothing to signal that the shadowsinger's life was about to be turned upside down.

Azriel had been walking past a bookstore, and there was nothing that could have prompted him to turn his head to look at it, but maybe some unseen forces were at work, because he glanced at the storefront, and then decided to step inside for a moment.

The inside was cosy, the light streaming in from the multiple windows not too harsh, dust motes dancing as if to an unheard song. The store was quiet except for the occasional turn of a page or the purring and meowing of a cat.

Azriel had no reason for going into that bookstore, but once there, he decided to see if he could find a small book to read when he felt like lazing about and not writing reports.

Walking through the multiple aisles, Azriel let his gaze wander.

It was some time later, when his fingers were absently caressing the spine of a book in the fantasy section and he was about to leave without a book because nothing caught his fancy, that a loud, irritated meow sounded nearby, and Azriel winced.

A blur of orange fur in his periphery caught his attention, and the moment he glanced to his left, a cat shot out from between the shelves, knocking over some books and racing towards him.

Azriel stood frozen, until another meow sounded, and a black cat and pretty female came into view. She had an annoyed look on her face as she chased the two cats, and, in his whole five hundred years of existence, Azriel had never thought he would experience at love at first sight.

He wasn't one to judge whether people deserved his time and love by their looks. He usually tried to know them personally before he did.

But here she was, chasing two cats as they knocked over books, and Azriel could not breathe.

Azriel's shadows whispered that if he caught hold of the cats, he might be able to talk to her.

The spymaster wasted no time, scooping up the orange cat as the female picked up the snarling black cat.

She panted heavily, holding tight to the wiggling cat. Azriel didn't have to struggle though, the orange cat simply stopped moving the moment Azriel's shadows swirled in front of its eyes.

The female sighed, muttering something about food in the black cat's ear, and that finally managed to get the animal to calm down.

She glanced up at Azriel, shaking her hair out of her face, her face emotionless.

She walked forward, grabbing the orange cat from him with a mumbled thank you, then walked away. Azriel raised his hand to call for her, but she had already left.

Disappointment hit him from all sides, from his own self as well as his shadows, and he was left to wonder why.

Azriel left the store without a book that day, and the pretty female had not even glanced at him as he left, and that gave Azriel a purpose.

He would have to return.

To get a book, of course.

•○🌑○•

Azriel feared she would beat him in his broody spymaster act if given the chance.

It had been a month since Azriel had first visited the bookstore, and so far, he had come nearly everyday to the store in hopes of getting her to talk to him. And, obviously, to find a book to read.

He had been unable to get any responses from her as of yet that were not one word answers, but Azriel pretended that he was making progress. That he was beginning to crack the hard shell around her.

Currently, she was arranging some books, balancing precariously on the ladder that lay against the tall shelf. Azriel watched, alert and tense in case she lost her balance and would need assistance.

It didn't take long, as she winced a moment later and started rubbing her eyes with one hand, his shadows whispering of how dust had gone into her eyes.

Azriel was next to her in a moment, his grip tight on the ladder as he smiled up at the female, and she glanced down, a frown on her face.

She put the books in her hand back into their place before she began descending the ladder. The moment she touched the ground, she scowled, turning to Azriel.

He blinked in confusion, though he still kept that smile on his face.

"Were you trying to look up my skirt?"

His smile faded, and his eyes went wide as his brain registered how inappropriate his actions might have seemed.

"I- no- I would never- I-" He sputtered, at a loss for words.

The female gave him an unimpressed look, turning away.

Azriel was frozen in place for a moment until his shadows whispered to him about how this was a good opportunity to talk to her. They screeched in his ears, and that finally got him moving as he followed behind the female, tripping over his own feet as he tried to get her attention.

"Hey! Hey wait!"

She paused behind a shelf, half turning to him.

"I was not trying to look up your-"

"Doesn't matter if you were. Happens often enough that it doesn't bother me."

Azriel froze, his brows scrunched. She made to continue walking, but his shadows shot out, the ones next to his ear letting out an exasperated sigh.

The female glanced down at her hand in confusion, to where the shadows were twisting around her wrist and weaving through her fingers.

The female's eyebrows rose, and she looked up at him.

He pulled them back hastily, heat rising in his neck and face. "Um. Forgive me. They sometimes don't want to be controlled and do whatever they want."

She turned to him with a sigh, and Azriel had to wonder if he was dreaming when he saw her lips twitch in the slightest.

Master is not dreaming. He is simply dumb. A shadow whispered as it bobbed away from Azriel's ear, swirling around itself as if in a dance.

Azriel squashed the urge to snarl at it.

"What do you want?" Azriel whipped his head to look at the female, finding her staring at him with a bored expression on her face.

He cleared his throat. "I would like to know your name."

"Why do you want my name? Are you going to put some enchantment on me?"

Azriel opened his mouth to deny any harmful intentions, but again he got distracted by his shadows' whispering.

We wish to engrave it on master's skin.

The heat Azriel's face increased.

"I-I just want to know. No reason..."

She studied him for a moment. "Y/n."

Oh it will look beautiful carved on master's chest.

It will look better on his face.

On his forehead. No one would then try to steal him away.

Or maybe on his hips-

Or butt-

To the outside world, it would simply look like his shadows were floating leisurely in the air, but Azriel could barely think straight through their unnecessary commentary.

"A-Azriel. I am Azriel."

She snorted, turning away. "I know."

He followed her as she stalked through the shelves, his mind having stopped working the moment she gave him her full attention.

"How do you know that?"

"You are not really subtle with who you are."

"Oh?"

"Everyone knows you are the spymaster of this mother forsaken court."

If anyone else had insulted or even thought something bad about his court, they would be chopped into pieces and thrown into the Sidra before they even took their next breath, but then again, Azriel's brain had stopped working, and all he could think about was the fact that she knew who he was.

"So you've heard about me?"

"Yes."

"So can I ask you out to eat with me?"

She froze in her tracks without warning, and Azriel, who was usually very good on his feet, rarely stumbled, even when drunk, slammed into her, taking both of them down.

She wiggled under him, trying to get him off of her, and he scrambled to follow her wish.

She glared at him as she straightened into a kneeling position, dusting off her clothes.

"What makes you think that?"

"Nothing." He mumbled, embarrassed that he was acting like a young boy who had only learned the concept of reproduction and how it happened.

She climbed to her feet, but Azriel's hand shot out to grip hers.

Master finally did something right without having us guide him.

We must celebrate.

Azriel decided he was going to kill his shadows, but that would have to wait for now.

"Please. I want to take you out."

Y/n studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she sighed.

"Fine."

A sudden burst of excitement took over Azriel, and he jumped to his feet.

"Amazing. Can I pick you up at sunset today?"

She nodded, and before Azriel could even realize what he was about to do, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against her cheek. Then he simply turned away, and sprinted out of the shop, already thinking about what he would wear and wich restaurant to take her to.

As he left, he didn't watch as the female who had captured his attention with a few cold looks, who was as cold as ice, lifted her hands and ran her fingers over where his lips had been a moment ago, her eyes blown wide and lips parted.

She stood there, unmoving, for mother knew how long before she glanced around, hoping no one was near.

And then, she let herself smile.

A shy, unbelieving smile as her face flushed.

And there, in the dark shadows between the shelves, her ice exterior began to crumble.

Cracks appeared.

Cracks in which he would plant himself so deeply, so thoroughly, and begin to weaken the mighty walls around her heart.

•○🌑○•

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

[lakefu]

The Climb

Summary: Tav and Astarion learn that vampire spawn are supposed to know how to climb walls and ceilings.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: Its just fluff, really. Post-game married tavstarion.

Word count: 1.3k

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Pst… Astarion,” Tav whispers, trying to grab the elf’s attention.

Crimson eyes dart up from behind a large book that's being read across the table.

“Can you uh… uhm…” Tav nervously looks around the room. There’s a lot of people here, some are even glaring at her. Since when did libraries become so popular on a Thursday afternoon?

Tav scoots her chair as close to him as possible and continues to whisper.

“I’m reading about vampires,” she admits, and he turns to look at her with a tilt of his head.

“Oh whatever for darling, you have the real deal right here. I'm sure whatever tome you've plucked from this dreary establishment is nothing but a fairy tail anyways,” he rolls his eyes and laughs, earning a “Shush!” from a nearby reader.

Tav smiles wearily, and makes sure to keep a low tone. “It says that vampire spawn can climb up walls… and ceilings”.

Astarion laughs even louder now and the librarian scolds him from across the room. Tav mouths a “Sorry” over in her direction and she sighs. After an “incident” had gotten the couple banned from the library closest to their house, she wasn't about to get in trouble at the second closest too.

Tav focuses her attention back to Astarion. His eyes are on his book, but they aren't moving. His knuckles seem whiter than usual as they grip the sides of the pages.

“Have you ever… tried to climb up walls?” She asks innocently enough, but his eyes flash up at lightning speed.

“Have you ever tried to climb up walls? No? So why would I?” He hisses, and the librarian stands up from her desk.

Tav jumps up from her seat and grabs Astarion’s hand, encouraging him to follow her.

“Thank you so much, I'll bring this back in a few days!” She gestures at the book in her hands and then back at the librarian, running out the door with lover in tow.

***

Pacing around the bedroom, Astarion keeps his eyes glued to the book and continues muttering under his breath. Tav sits on their bed and watches the vampire’s erratic movements with concern. She feels a bit of regret telling him about the book in the first place, since the last thing she wanted to do was put any new worries into his life.

“Hey, you're probably right… It's probably not real. Just made up for a good story,” she tries to reassure him.

“No,” he states simply, and ceases his pacing. Facing the wall near the bed, his fingers trace the pages of the book for what feels like the hundredth time.

Harmed by Running Water. Check. Forbiddance. Check. Sunlight Hypersensitivity. Check. Spider Climb.… What?

He presses the book closed with such a force that Tav could have sworn she saw a poof of dust fly from the pages.

“Everything else in here is correct. Why would this one thing be a lie?” He sighs and leans over to place the book down on the nightstand. His hands move to massage his temples, never letting his gaze leave the wall ahead of him.

“It’s not like I was given an instruction booklet the moment I was turned, you know. I had to figure everything out for myself,” he spits out, words full of a poison that makes Tav shiver. 

He raises a singular finger and presses it against the wall.

“And clearly… I couldn't even do that properly,” he says softly, dragging his finger down the wall. 

He appears to look straight through the rough surface, clearly lost in a deep, distant thought. 

Tav scooches off the bed and approaches him gently, wrapping her arms around his waist with a careful squeeze. Standing on her tip-toes, she reaches upwards and plants a soft kiss on his porcelain neck. 

“I don't know what to do, love,” Astarion whispers, and leans his head into hers. 

Tav closes her eyes and considers the situation as she feels cold fingers caress her cheek.

“When you hunt… when you feed… you feel a bit feral, don't you?” Tav smiles up at him and studies his confused expression.

“‘Well, ‘a bit’ might be a slight understatement, but yes. And it’s all a matter of control anyways,” he hesitates, and waits for further explanation.

“Yes, exactly!” Tav exclaims, taking a step back and feeling optimism swell back up within her. “You should focus on those types of feelings. Allow your body to tell you what to do. Try to relax, focus, and you’ll do fine!”

Astarion scoffs, but Tav can tell that he is taking what she said to heart. He squints at the wall once more and adjusts his posture.

“I can uh… move the mattress over here if you're worried about falling or something,” Tav jokes, but honestly, she would do it if it made him feel better.

“Oh please- i’m the most dexterous person in this whole town. You know I always land on my feet,” he laughs and makes a grandiose hand gesture in Tav’s general direction.

So, he was feeling better then. Good. 

Tav heads back to her previous perch at the edge of the bed and watches in anticipation of whatever the hells she was about to witness.

Nothing but silence filled the room for a long while. And then, quicker than a blink of an eye, he was simply on the wall.

Tav jumps back, mouth agape, and watches as the vampire continues his ascent up the wall until he is completely upside down on the ceiling. She nearly felt ill at the initial unnatural sight of it all, but in a strange way, it felt all too natural at the same time.

“Gods…” she whispers. “My husband is a spider”.

Astarion let out one of the deepest and most sincere laughs Tav had heard in a long time. He was having the time of his life.

“This is madness, truly!” He shouts from above, scampering about like some sort of creature that would normally not be allowed inside the house. “Tav, do you realize how much we can do with this? Where we can go? Where we could sneak into?” “I'm so proud of you dear, really, and- wait what did you say? We?” She jolts up from the bed and walks over to his point of initial ascent, as if beckoning him to come down and talk. 

“Yes darling, I can carry you on my back, I'm sure of it”. He's crawled off the ceiling by now but is still nearly halfway up the wall. Just enough to meet Tav at eye level, only a bit more upside down than usual.

Tav doesn't know what to make of this proposition. It might be the one of the most unorthodox situations she’s ever heard of, and yet, it's still a bit… romantic? She feels her face run red.

“Do you realize how insane you sound right now?” She questions with eyes widening and shooting up a toothy grin.

Astarion takes one hand off the wall, still managing to maintain a balance, and reaches down to hold Tav’s cheek.

“And when have we ever been sane, my love?” He crawls a few more inches down the wall until he’s in a spot where his lips can reach her own. A sweet and selfless kiss is planted upon her lips, and they enjoy this new position for a few moments before Tav stumbles away. She’s not even the one who’s been upside down and yet she feels more light headed and flush than he does.

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” She exhales, and takes a satisfied step back to look at her curious lover. 

Gods, what is he about to get them into?

[mimic-tesdinic]

Context for the sexual culture of Victorians, and why it's dangerous to oversimplify it

Acting like Victorian’s sexual culture is just ‘repressed’ is to remove all nuance from the subject. To show what I mean, I think it’s important to look at the reasons we may be seen as prudish right now:

The rates of highschoolers having sex has been on a decline since the 90s (down 15%)

The number of explicit movies shown in theater is on a decline

Social-distancing has caused people to be less comfortable with physical contact, even post lockdown.

There’s been a lot of anxiety that Gen Z and Millennials are too prudish, but this fails to consider the nuances of these facts:

The decrease in sex among teens has more to do with an increase in entertainment available for teens, as well as a decrease in virgin-shaming, due to higher awareness of asexuality and consent, as well as growing anxiety about sexual expectations.

The decrease in explicit movies in theaters is mostly due to the popularity of streaming services, seen in shows like Bridgerton, etc.

People have been connecting non-physically via the internet, so in even though being physically with other people is more difficult, people are still connecting

It’s not that there hasn’t been a rise in sexual-repression per se, but boiling things down to “kids aren’t having sex these days” is a massive generalization that isn’t helping anyone. And viewing Victorian sexuality as this caricature or prudishness isn’t going to give any insight to the actual problems underlying their perception of sex.

This is part of my issue with a lot of historical fiction about the 1800s, they want to give commentary on purity-culture and sexuality, but they can’t conceptualize it beyond a surface level idea of “sex feels good” so it ends up feeling like poorly written smut catered purely to the male-gaze, which they claim is somehow feminist. The sexual repression of women in this time was more complicated than that, the leading factors were:

A female monarch in a committed and intensely passionate marriage after five male rulers, notorious for debauchery

A rise in the Evangelical Protestant Subsect

Better rights for single women as opposed to married women

A Rising number of STD’s, particularly syphilis

A lack of custody rights for mothers

Both a rise in and banning of sexually explicit fiction

Women's Suffrage

The trial of Oscar Wilde

Most of the rumors you hear about the time period, like the idea that tablecloths were a matter of propriety, or that female orgasms were a medical treatment, are untrue. Marriage books from the time claimed that conception was more likely if both partners climaxed. And self-pleasuring was frowned upon regardless of gender.

Although Puritanical expectations were a factor in the sexual repression of women, I would argue that women's sexual repression was mostly due to a lack of contraceptive, STD protection, and human rights.

To be clear this isn’t to say that puritanical culture wasn’t a factor, but it was one of many, and the idea that no women has enjoyed sex is often used to frame sexual pleasure as a privilege that modern women should feel indebted to men for having, and it’s not. Don’t feed into the idea that social progression is purely linear, especially when it’s used as an excuse to silence the marginalized.

[tulip-in-a-cup3]

Movie recommendations for the unhinged girl

The love witch

The Love Witch is a movie written and directed by Anna Biller about a beautiful young witch Elaine in her lavishly decorated new apartment in a new town where she hopes to find the man of her dreams using her spells and potions but they work just a bit too well. Her desperation and unfiltered passion lead her to murder and being completely unhinged. The beauty in this movie is the set design and costuming the film perfectly encaptures the style of a 70s psycho-sexual exploitation film. I think this movie is the perfect watch if you love and appreciate how a film production can elevate it and if you support both women's rights and wrongs.

Wetlands

Wetland is a German movie based on a book by Charlotte Roche and directed by David Wnendt it follows an extremely nonconformist teenage girl Helen who has a strained relationship with her parents. She spends most of her time with her best friend with whom they break social taboos after social taboos. She uses her sexuality as a form of rebellion and to break common social expectations of women. After an intimate shaving accident, Helen lands herself in hospital where she meets a male nurse Robin who will sweep her off her feet. This movie is honestly disgusting at times and will make you winch but it is accelerating to see a female character being disgusting almost existing completely outside the male gaze.

Daisies

Daisies is a Czech film directed by Vera Chytilova about two teenage girls both named Marie who decided that since the world is spoiled they would be spoiled as well. They embark on a series of elaborating pranks to disrupt the supposed peace of the world around them. This movie is wild, experimental and a joy to the history of feminist cinema that was actually banned by its government on its release. If you feel like watching two girls do whatever whenever please watch Daisies

The worst person in the world

The Worst Person in the World is a Norwegian film directed by Joachim Trier. It chronicles four years in the life of Julie, a young woman navigating the adversities of adulthood when you don’t know what you want to do with your life, leading her to take a realistic look at who she is. This movie is a lot more subdued than the other recommendations but I still think it's a perfect movie for an unhinged girl. It explores the feelings of being lost and self-destructive in a relatively simple but unique way.

[maarriiii]

Victory | Draco Malfoy

A/N: A repost of my old fic that got deleted—thank god for copies. I didn’t bother to check this for mistakes my eyes are too tired.

Summary: Draco manages to convince his cousin to be a substitute chaser for an upcoming Quidditch game.

Pairing(s): Draco Malfoy x female!reader, Draco Malfoy x cousin!reader.

Warning(s): None

my masterlist :))

~~

"Draco Malfoy!" y/n marched into the Slytherin common room, annoyance painted across her face as she looked for her cousin. "You absolute babbling git." The platinum blonde haired boy widened his eyes at the sight of his furious cousin. He closed his book hurriedly, stood up from the comfortable armchair and darted towards his dormitory. Unfortunately, for Draco, y/n already had her wand out and pointed at him.

"Not so fast, Malfoy." Draco hovered slightly above the ground and completely frozen. With a sharp turn, y/n threateningly gazed at the occupants of the common room and wordlessly they all stood and dispersed. Some into their rooms whilst others walked out of the common room.

Once it was just the two of them, y/n let her cousin down. His body tensed, but relaxed afterwards. The annoyed expression on her face was still apparent—in fact it grew scarier—and Draco gulped nervously as he tried to prepare for her incoming wrath.

"Why would you tell Flint that I could be a replacement for one of his chasers? That bloke doesn't even know that I can ride a broom." Moments earlier, in potion class to be exact, Marcus Flint was found seating at her table instead of her usual partner. She found it strange and thought that the Slytherin quidditch captain might have some ulterior motive. She was, in fact, correct.

y/n was told that one of his chasers was banned from playing until further notice by professor Snape himself. With the upcoming game between Slytherin and Gryffindor in two weeks time, Flint had been pressuring his teammates into finding a decent replacement and none had been giving him the results that he wanted. Until Draco told him about y/n.

"Flint had been following me all day, uttering complete nonsense about how I would bring so much disappointment to our house if I don't play that stupid game." Her voice getting louder as she spoke. "Do you know how mother and father would react if they found out? I would never hear the bloody end of it." Seeing as y/n was young witch coming from a pureblood family, the pressure to uphold her reputation was always breathing down her neck. Playing quidditch was seen unladylike for most pureblood family and although—if she had to admit—y/n found quidditch to be exhilarating, she rather not faced her mother constant nagging.

Draco stood unmoved in front of her as he took in every single word. Some paintings were watching intently, excited having something to gossip about later and some walked out feeling disturbed. Draco knew the moment he suggested y/n to Flint was going to be a bad idea, but he knew the way to victory was with his cousin.

"Of course, I do." He answered. "But, come on, y/n. We haven't won the quidditch cup in years. Don't you just want to shut those prat up by shoving that cup right in front their faces?" His face showing a clear disgust for the Gryffindors. When Draco saw that y/n wasn't persuaded by the thought of victory, he decided to switch his tactic. "Fine, then, just do it for me. Just once and you'll never have to play again. Come on, y/n, you'd do it for me right? For your dear cousin?" He begged, putting the most sincerest expression he can mustered.

y/n sighed and cursed herself for weakening at his cousin's words. Draco was always her soft spot and although he could be an annoying little prat, he was the only family members she had left that wasn't as horrid. "You're my only cousin." She muttered. "Alright, fine, tell Flint I'll play that stupid game. But, I want a new broom. Not one of those old ones the school has, but the–" Before y/n could finish her list of demands, Draco's arms were wrapped around her body. Her arms hung weirdly by her side before she returned the hug. The frustration she was feeling for her cousin was no longer there, instead a small smile appeared on her lips.

Draco let himself go and cleared his throat trying to act like he didn't just willingly hug her. "Right, um, I'll tell him you said that. I'm sure he could get you a new one." He said stiffly. Her smile turned wider and y/n ruffled his always well kept hair. Draco tried to get away from her hands, his usual scowl returned and the rolling of his eyes. But, he couldn't helped but to let the corner of his lips quirked up.

"I'll come to practice tomorrow. During one of his many rants, Flint told me he's been making you practice everyday." She rolled her eyes. "Oh, and tell him to stop following me around now before I lose my patience and hex him on the spot." y/n walked past Draco and straight towards her dormitory after she patted him on his cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow ferret." She yelled out.

Once he was sure that y/n wouldn't see him, the platinum haired boy cheered silently and pumping his fists in the air. He took his bag and left the common room excitedly to find his captain. Draco could already feel the sweet victory on the tips of his fingers.

[realityhop]

"Its not that the people are in charge but that the people's desires are in charge." — Stewart Ewen - Historian of Public Relations, The Century of the Self - Part 4 (2002) 53:14

"[Wilhelm] Reich argued that it is abuse if one’s sexuality is repressed or one’s sexual desires are left unaffirmed. Reich agreed with Freud that our sexual well-being is based on our sexual satisfaction. If these needs are not met, Reich suggested, one is oppressed. … This remarkable transition of abuse from well-being, particularly that of the body, to the psychological and the mental has had dramatic effects. People are left without any way to guide their moral judgments other than with their emotions, and those emotions are protected at all costs because not to protect them would be abusive." — Carrie Gress, The End of Woman: How Smashing the Patriarchy Has Destroyed Us (2023)

"And we are all used to experiencing the sort of mindless joy (which secretly conceals an abysmal emptiness) that accompanies buying anything; when pleasure, permission, and happiness are, for a fleeting moment, determined not by our own mind, but mediated by the purchase. Likewise, we know the same trick can be performed with sexual gratification. It can be reduced to a commodity, in which gazing at an objectified starlet in a film is part of “enjoying” the film. Unconsciously, we have bought permission to leer. … The manufactured impostor not only thrives on what once fed the real need, but attempts to murder its rivals by extinguishing desires for genuine experience." — Dale Beran, It Came From Something Awful: How a Toxic Troll Army Accidentally Memed Donald Trump into Office (2019)

"Commodities become more attractive insofar as each one stands in for the perfect partner. Though a hammer at the hardware store most likely cannot function as my soul mate, I will find more pleasure in purchasing it with the idea of an ideal commodity informing the purchase, and this is what the soul mate provides. That is to say, the idea of the soul mate underwrites all consumption within the capitalist universe. The soul mate is the commodity in the form of the subject’s complement. This is why the idea of the soul mate has such importance for capitalism. The subject experiences itself as lacking whenever it desires, and no object can fill this lack. But the promise of the soul mate is the promise of completion, an object that would complement the lacking subject perfectly and thereby ameliorate its lack. No such complement exists outside of ideological fantasies, but capitalism requires subjects who invest themselves in such fantasies.” — Todd McGowan, Capitalism and Desire: The Psychic Cost of Free Markets (2016)

"From a brain structure perspective, the nucleus accumbens appears to be an area in the brain that activates in men an involuntary, biological response to the female image. Something happens in his brain in response to the female form." — Emerson Eggerichs, Mother and Son: The Respect Effect (2016)

"A motivating principle of the sixteenth-century Protestant Reformation was its correction of Roman Catholicism’s heavy use of images in medieval churches—in statues, paintings, and stained-glass windows. The Protestant reformers reasserted the Ten Commandments’ ban on graven images, idolatrous objects that seduce the soul away from the immaterial divine. The Puritans, a separatist sect that seceded from the too-Catholic Church of England, followed the Reformation imperative of putting the Bible at the center of their faith. … The Puritans’ attitude toward art was conditioned by utilitarian principles of frugality and propriety: art had no inherent purpose except as entertainment, a distraction from duty and ethical action. The Puritans did appreciate beauty in nature, which was “read” like a book for signs of God’s providence. The social environment in England from which the Puritans had emigrated to America (either directly or indirectly via the Netherlands) was overtly iconoclastic." — Camille Paglia, Religion and the Arts in America (2007) in Provocations

"No females allowed, lest they tempt the monks to think sinful thoughts." — Molly Worthen, The Great Courses - The History of Christianity II: Eastern Orthodoxy: From Byzantium to Russia (2017) on Kanopy

"If a rational calculation of utility demands sacrificing something I love – a human being, a non-human animal, a work of art – then to hell with reason and utility." — John N. Gray, Nietzsche, narwhals and the burden of consciousness (Jan 4 2023)

"Perhaps the ultimate horror of a desire is to be fully filled-in, met, so that I desire no longer. The ultimate melancholic experience is the experience of a loss of desire itself." — Slavoj Žižek in Perverts Guide to Ideology (2013)

"The trouble is that we are, unless we are careful, flooded with images from outside, particularly ones that stimulate our desire." — Nina Power, What Do Men Want?: Masculinity and Its Discontents (2022)

could consider this a sequel to this post (2023)

Hylas and the Water Nymphs by Henrietta Rae (1909)

[eradicatetehnormal]

So is the "We need more aros and aces in fiction" thing the new "There is no reason for these characters to be *said minority*". One of those arguments that started off as the frustration of people who wanted more or better representation that later got co-opted by more conservative-leaning people who in all reality don't want to see them at all? It feels similar and Princess Weekes brought up that this could happen when she talked about how the anti-smut behavior can and will lead to books by poc people being banned.

I'm bringing this up in the way I am because I'm hyper-focusing on that one part of those statistics, I'm aromantic and I benefit from more platonic relationships on screen, and also because I don't seem to be on the same side of the internet as Weekes. Any time I've seen people argue for more aromanticism and asexuality, and fewer romance plotlines and gratuitous sex scenes, it was always from the perspective that these things were annoying, pointless to the plot, and that society keeps pushing romance and sex as the most fulfilling experiences one can have, when that's not true for everyone.

I've never seen people argue that there should be less romance and sex in media because it's bad for society in some way. I don't doubt that it's happening to the genre. Unless it's Pride and Prejudice, romance and ESPECIALLY erotica have seemingly always been looked at as lesser, unartful genres no matter how inherent their messaging is to the very concept. It wouldn't surprise me if the "Booktok" people talked about in the video would somehow miss the bare-bones class commentary of the film Pretty Woman and dismiss it as some sort of female gaze power fantasy.

Weekes also brought up how bringing politics into fandom and shipping for unserious conversations has soured the experience. It's interesting to see how that affects things from community to community. Weekes brought up two examples of how gay ships are seen as more moral than some straight ships despite having the same problems. I feel like in anime and JRPG fandoms, the exact opposite will happen and gay ships will gay attacked for having the same issues or types of fans that a straight ship has. I wonder if that's because there's more of a space for more conservative-leaning people in anime now that Western media is becoming more explicitly liberal (even if it's shallow).

[theladyofbloodshed]

Not submitting this as a prompt really, unless you’re interested! But after reading your wonderful snippet of the valkyries defending Nesta, I suddenly remembered that first interaction between Gwyn x Rhys x Nesta in acosf.

Like imagine Nesta offhandedly, meaning nothing of it, telling Gwyn that when Rhys came to visit the training ring he had warned Nesta not to hurt Gwyn. And Gwyn hearing this gets furious and gives Rhys and the IC a piece of her mind. Like??? that whole scene made me so mad, Nesta never once forced Gwyn into training. Instead she listened, learned what would make the priestesses the most comfortable and made sure to make a safe environment for them to train. And treated them with nothing but kindness. Imagine if Rhys and the IC could have extended Nesta the same freaking courtesy that Nesta gives to others.

Here you go... A valkyrie sleepover with Gwyn snapping at Rhys

Gwyn was sprawled out on her stomach with stacks of books built like a fortress around her. She had vowed to read them all and had strictly forbidden anybody from moving them. Each time the three of them settled in for an evening in the library, Gwyn would take up her place in the middle of them and get to work on reading.

‘How can you lay like that for hours?’ Emerie groaned, shifting positions once more in the chair. There were many chairs that accommodated her wings, as she’d found out by bouncing between them all, sitting with her legs curled up, legs over the arm, laying on the couch, propping her head up with a fist. Sometimes Emerie would go down to the floor too, but only ever lasted a few minutes on her stomach until she returned to a chair with her own book.

‘Because I’m not a fidgeter.’

‘She’s taking a nap really,’ Nesta said, peering over the top of her book at the priestess.

‘That was once. And because your mate worked us too hard in the sun.’

Her mate was hosting the inner circle for dinner. Not that he’d cooked it. The house had managed to create a meal for him – which he had graciously thanked the house for. Cassian hadn’t realised it was a Valkyrie night, but Nesta had stoically bowed out of the family dinner to hole up in the library. It wasn’t often they came to the House of Wind anymore but on the rare occasion they were invited, Nesta planned to accidentally schedule her time with the Valkyries.

Whilst the house had prepared a decent enough meal for Cassian and his family, it had positively spoilt Nesta. Three massive beds had sprouted in the library – all with four posters and draping curtains around it. There were mountains of pillows for them to burrow in later. Each female had pyjamas with a matching dressing gown to go on top with their initials sewn into it. And the food had been divine. A feast had been laid out of various bites of all of their favourite things. Throughout the evening, they’d nibbled away at the savoury pastries, dipped breadsticks into sour cream, and gobbled down all the sweet items. Cassian had been strictly banned from entering because he would eat everything that was left. The house had ensured that too by sealing itself shut when he’d peered into the glass door.

Emerie took one of her frequent wanders around the library. Her wings tended to ache as if a phantom pain tugged at them. She roved past the rows of books then stopped. When she smiled, the gesture made her brown eyes crinkle.

‘This is the first book I ever recommended to you two,’ she said, cradling the book as if it were her new born. ‘Now, look at us.’

Gwyn shimmied out of her stack of books to gaze at the one Emerie held with near reverence. ‘I read it all night. Oh, Merrill was so angry with me. I kept yawning.’

‘That was the first time you trained, wasn’t it, Em?’

Emerie nodded. ‘After you’d bribed me with spices. Best decision I ever made.’

‘And we all bonded over books,’ Gwyn said.

That had been the first day of something good that Nesta had managed all on her own. But her pride had deflated that day.

‘When Rhys came to collect you,’ she said, jerking her chin towards Emerie, ‘he gave me a little mental warning about treating you with respect, Gwyn.’

Gwyn’s demeanour changed in an instant. Her hands went to her hips, shoulders drawing back. ‘What do you mean?’

While Gwyn had been nervous and hesitant initially, a fire had ignited beneath her recently. There was fire in her blood now, a belligerent righteousness that had reared its head a few weeks ago when she’d given Mor and Feyre a telling off.

‘It was just Rhys being Rhys,’ Nesta said, swiping her hand through the air.

‘What did he say? Tell me, Nesta.’

‘You are to treat Gwyn with kindness and respect.’

Before any of them could talk her out of it, Gwyn, in her pyjamas and fluffy slippers, marched towards the doors, muttering, ‘Right, that’s it.’

The doors wouldn’t yield to her. She jangled the handles, but they held firm. Emerie and Nesta exchanged a wary glance.

‘Remember when she was shy,’ murmured Nesta.

Gwyn went on trying to haul the door open then an idea seized her. ‘House, you are so wonderful and have been so nice to us tonight. Let me out, please.’

The traitor did.

Gwyn bustled from the room, skidding as she turned the corner in her slippers.

‘This is really not a conversation I want in my dressing gown,’ Emerie whispered as they hurried after her.

Red hair streamed behind her as she came to a jagged stop in the lounge where everybody had gathered. Cassian leapt out of the chair.

‘What’s happened?’

Emerie clutched her stomach. ‘She’s so fast. And I’m so full of food.’

‘A warning?’ Gwyn blared. ‘You gave Nesta a warning?’

Cassian stood blinking then realised her ire wasn’t directed at him. For once. Her teal eyes were fixed on the high lord who had his arms tucked behind his head with Feyre curled up beside him. Nesta counted four bottles of wine open on the table between the six of them. Elain was likely already asleep at the mansion in the city.

‘I don’t follow.’

Rhys sat forwards in the chair, giving Cassian the same querying look that the others were.

‘You gave Nesta a warning the first time you saw us together. To be nice.’

Cassian’s eyes screwed shut at the memory of slinging his sweaty arm around Nesta’s shoulders to calm her while Rhys had peered into her mind.

‘I wanted to ensure that you were not exposed to anything upsetting.’

‘That being Nesta?’ She asked, voice rattling with anger. ‘She did not need a warning. And it was none of your damn business.’

Feyre sat up and set her glass of wine down onto the low table. ‘Nesta wasn’t in a good place when she first came here.’

‘Yes, I know,’ Gwyn snapped. ‘She told me everything. Or I thought she did,’ a pointed look over her shoulder to Nesta and Emerie. ‘If you thought Nesta was so nasty, why did you send her to the library? There are females in there who have had it worse than me, who wouldn’t cope if somebody was cruel to them.’

At the sound of Rhys and Azriel trying to speak, Gwyn cut them off with a wave of her hand.

‘I am still talking.’

The priestess waited for silence – and Nesta had to admit she was impressed. It was like watching an animal trainer teaching her beasts to submit.

‘Not only that, but Nesta would have had ample opportunities to be cruel to me before your unwarranted intervention. And she never was. She was never horrible to any priestess. She treats all of us with respect. She was only ever kind and respectful.’ Gwyn sucked in a breath then whirled on Nesta. ‘Do you remember what I told you the first time we met?’

‘You told me to shelve your books for you.’

Emerie snorted, unable to hold it in.

‘That I didn’t need pity and I didn’t need to be coddled. Nesta treated me like a person, not just a victim.’ Gwyn planted her feet, turning her body ever so slightly so she favoured her right leg almost in a fighting stance. Azriel gave an appreciative nod to her footwork.

‘Nesta didn’t even know me and she found a book I had lost, snuck into Merrill’s office and swapped it so I wouldn’t get into trouble.’ With an exasperated cry, Gwyn said, ‘Merrill is scary! And you had the gall to warn Nesta to be nice to me.’

Nesta had a feeling that if Gwyn had a power over the skies, she’d have brought them down on Rhys’ head. Her fingers were twisted into fists. She saw Cassian sizing up the space between the priestess and his high lord. Amren and Mor too. Not Azriel though, he was watching on with faint amusement.

‘Do not coddle me,’ Gwyn warned. ‘I do not want it. And you know what? You are to treat Nesta with kindness and respect from now on.’

Gwyneth Berdara really did have a spine made of steel to bark at a high lord that way. And Nesta was so thankful to call her a friend. She couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips.

Rhys swept his head down then settled his gaze on the priestess. ‘I am very sorry, Gwyn.’

She threw up her hands with exasperation. ‘It’s not me you need to apologise to.’ She turned on her heel to leave though not without saying under her breath, ‘Ignorant males.’

Emerie was keen to be away. Without prompting, she also began following the shine of copper hair back down the corridor. Nesta bowed low in a mocking gesture. ‘Terribly sorry. She’s had a lot of sugar tonight.’

[bamf-jaskier]

Who the Fuck is Margarita?

Margarita Laux-Antille was a sorceress, a member of the Lodge, and the Rectoress of Aretuza and appeared in Time of Contempt, Baptism of Fire, and Lady of the Lake.

If you want to chat some more about Rita, or just the books in general I made a discord server just for Witcher Books content that you can find here.

With that, Hi! I’m Aaliyah and this is Part 8 of my WTF Series - a crash course in subjects from The Witcher books.

Spoilers (duh)

The first time we meet Margarita (known as Rita by her friends) is in Time on Contempt when Rita and Tissaia come across Ciri and Tissaia mistakes her for an Aretuza novice:

“Why aren’t you in school, novice?’ Tissaia asked in a cold, resonant voice, eyeing Ciri with a penetrating gaze.

‘Wait, Tissaia,’ said the other woman, who was younger, tall and fair-haired, and wore a green dress with a plunging neckline. ‘I don’t know her. I don’t think she’s—’

‘Yes, she is,’ interrupted the dark-haired woman. ‘I’m certain she’s one of your girls, Rita. You can’t know them all. She’s one of the ones who sneaked out of Loxia during the confusion when we were moving dormitories. And she’ll admit as much in a moment. Well, novice, I’m waiting.”

This is ironic because Yennefer brought Ciri to meet with them so she could join Aretuza. This misunderstanding is cleared up and Ciri and Yennefer are invited back with Tissaia and Rita:

“Yennefer, it turned out, knew Tissaia and Margarita very well. The enchantresses invited her to the Silver Heron, the best and most expensive inn in Gors Velen, where Tissaia de Vries was staying, delaying her trip to the island for reasons known only to herself. Margarita Laux-Antille, who, it turned out, was the rectoress of Aretuza, had accepted the older enchantress’s invitation and was temporarily sharing the apartment with her.”

HOW MANY BEDS IN THAT APARTMENT RITA? HOW MANY?

Rita is also described as being very beautiful ---

“Margarita Laux-Antille emerged from the pool with a splash, spraying water everywhere. Ciri couldn’t stop herself looking. She had seen Yennefer naked on several occasions and hadn’t imagined anyone could have a more shapely figure. She was wrong. Even marble statues of goddesses and nymphs would have blushed at the sight of Margarita Laux-Antille undressed.”

She is shown to be extremely magically powerful as well (from Baptism of Fire):

“Philippa Eilhart’s tightly closed eyelids twitched, Triss Merigold panted and there were beads of sweat on Keira Metz’s high forehead. Only on Margarita Laux-Antille’s face was there no sign of fatigue.”

Now Rita ends up not going to Thanedd (if you don’t know what that is you can read about it here). She doesn’t go because, as Tissaia puts it:

“Don’t listen to her, Yennefer,’ said Tissaia coldly. ‘She’s bitter and full of regrets. Do you know why she’s not going to the banquet at Aretuza? Because she’s ashamed to show up alone, without the man she’s been involved with for four years. The man people envied her for. Who she lost because she was unable to value his love.”

Rita is not involved in the ensuing coup but we see her once more in Baptism of Fire as she becomes a part of The Lodge. She believes in their core tenet of female supremacy in magic:

“That’s right,’ Margarita Laux-Antille admitted calmly. ‘I often compare the results of the novices from Aretuza with those of the boys from the school in Ban Ard, and the comparisons are invariably to the girls’ credit. Magic requires patience, delicacy, intelligence, prudence, and perseverance, not to mention the humble, but calm, endurance of defeat and failure. Ambition is the undoing of men. They always want what they know to be impossible and unattainable. And they are unaware of the attainable.”

Now, her highest motivation is always seen as protecting her students and being invested in her school -- Aretuza.

“Politics don’t interest me,’ Margarita Laux-Antille, the rectoress of the academy of magic, announced loudly. ‘I simply do not wish my girls, whose education I’ve dedicated myself to, to be used as mercenaries, pulling the wool over their eyes with slogans about love for one’s homeland. The homeland of those girls is magic; that’s what I teach them. If someone involves my girls in a war, stands them on a new Sodden Hill, they will be lost, irrespective of the result on that battlefield. I understand your reservations, Enid, but we’re here to discuss the future of magic, not issues of race.”

However, Rita is also shown to be politically neutral, with an implied bias for humans.

“I am politically neutral,’ Margarita Laux-Antille chimed in, lifting her head, ‘and my school is politically neutral. I have in mind every type, kind and class of politics which exists!”

This implied bias comes from how she doesn’t empathize with Francesca who she is talking to in the quote above. And in Time of Contempt she sees the Elves as the more violent side of the war:

“There’s a war on, Yennefer. Rayla must have seen her comrades-in-arms falling, alive, into the Squirrels’ clutches many times. Then hung by their arms from trees as target practice. Blinded, castrated, with their feet burnt in campfires. Falka herself wouldn’t have been ashamed of the atrocities committed by the Scoia’tael.”

Magarita goes along with the Lodge’s plans -- including the plan to put Ciri on the throne of Kovir by having him marry her. Then in Lady of the Lake when Yennefer and Ciri are put on “trial” by the Lodge we meet Margarita again.

She is described as dignified and serious. This is an important note because in a scene set in the future, we find out that only two portraits of members of The Lodge survived and one of them being Sile de Tancarville and the other Margarita.

At the “trial” where Ciri technically joins the Lodge and officially declares herself Yennefer’s daughter, Rita is very friendly and open to Ciri. She has no bad blood with Ciri or Yennefer and is generally pleasant to them. Granted, she never goes out of her way to help them like Fringilla did in Baptism of Fire but she was kinder then most.

Rita votes for Ciri, citing Tissaia’s memory:

“I also vote for her,” Margarita said with a smile. “You may wonder at my motivations, ladies, but I do it for Tissaia de Vries. If Tissaia was among us she would not agree that in order to maintain the unity of the Lodge it is necessary to use coercive methods or restriction of personal freedom.”

Overall, Margarita Laux-Antille is a woman who loves her school and her students. She treats Ciri as another student within seconds of meeting her and is sympathetic towards her and Yennefer. Rita was a close friend of Tissaia and a member of the Lodge. We don’t know exactly what happens to her post-canon but she likely met the same fate as the other members of The Lodge. Chased down in the Witcher Hunts.

Hopefully this is helpful @thence-we-came-forth I’m doing the next one soon!!!

[firespirited]

Porn addiction isn't real, porn escalation of already violent tendencies or thrill seeking is.

(in the same way the innocent person watching pewdiepie to fascist pipeline isn't real, the bully character type to fash pipeline via pewdiepie is)

The porn gaze or porn stare is real: part of our brains switches off and arousal auto switches on, regardless of disgust or pleasure and it is a real 'force' that feels like an intoxication.

But the concept of "porn addiction" comes from two woman-hating places: all sex except marital sex is bad and men aren't fully responsible for ignoring consent because porn brainwashed them. We are seeing real law along these lines: 1/ banning depictions of educative sex especially safe, non PIV sex and 2/ men getting away with femicide with a rough sex defence after strangling their partner for example.

Porn escalation is when users seek out more violent or outrageous porn because they've stopped being able to enjoy sex or taking more risks (downloading illegal material). These are pathologies that can range from retraumatizing yourself or self sabotage to rage issues (often misogynistic) to sadism in its anti-social 'this person risks graduating to hurt real people' form. This is not joe normal. It is not most tumblr users. It's a niche area of psychology/sexology/criminology where the studies have to be interpreted within specific contexts which are not mainstream porn habits or even mainstream interpersonal violence.

You don't have a "porn addiction" problem affecting your relationships: you have a 'book, movies, TV, adverts, social media, radio, terrible uncles' problem: you speak to women like they're 2D romanceable characters, you've game-ified what's supposed to be intimacy.

The porn industry is exploitative AND socially harmful. Countless studies prove both. ... but the rad fems are working from the wrong idea: that society is pornified instead of porn reflecting society.

The 9 year old boys parroting Andrew Tate didn't get that way because they saw some porn online, they got that way because there is a reactionary backlash to women getting human rights and a teensy bit of representation (we now get 1/3rd of spoken words in movies! even if they're mostly pretty ladies speaking about guys!). It's coming from dads resenting women, moms hating other women and tv presenters talking over their female colleagues between the barrage of ads selling women as fragmented bits of body or conquests and trophies. They were told good boys get a princess to love them and complete them from before they could speak.

It's ten, thirty, sixty years of mostly conservative rule: a constant background noise of hatred of women to get votes: the single mother daring to ask for benefits, the greedy divorcee daring to ask for her due, the whores daring to ask for their own bodily autonomy over their periods and pregnancies, the audacity of those women asking for a fraction of resources for sports, media, health research; the right to not be smiling and dressed in whatever local lore deems modest but not man-hating which depends on the weather. Switch on the news anytime from 1970 onwards and some talking head is promoting some new law that hates women and men who aren't man enough.

Porn is just a fun house mirror that says the nations' politics honestly. It's not an outlet and it's not neutral. Like most entertainment, it's highly political. It's also a terrible gig economy where every attempt for sex workers to actually get paid directly, safely, properly for their work gets shut down by people who claim to want to "save" them.

If you're "addicted" to smut, woop dee doo. Do you also miss it when there's no dessert? no TV all week? Oh hey let's either ignore that the chocolate comes from slave labour and the TV exploited everyone involved OR make everyone feel guilty for moments of relief in a life of drudgery - no in-between.

We're talking about the problem wrong. I'm not even going to do into how most addicts are self-medicating and the analogy falls apart.

Oh and Russell Brand is a smart self-serving attention glutton. He'll convert to catholicism if it keeps the grift alive.

I saw people on twitter asking what’s up with all the radfems supporting Russel Brand over there and the answer is that Brand believes porn addiction is real and is linked with religious front orgs focused on popularizing the pseudoscientific idea of porn use being the same thing as drug addiction. It’s common for abusers like Brand (or Weinstein) to popularize pseudoscience about “porn addiction” and “sex addiction” because they don’t want to accept blame for their abuse and instead shift it off to things already seen as immoral vices.

Also mandatory linking of articles about research into “porn addiction” bc being the most successful rightwing pseudoscientific propaganda push means a lot of people just don’t question it being a thing and when you just mention it’s not real you get a flood of people going “urrm akshully anything can be an addiction”

[raymondebidochonlifechoices]

To summarise:

It’s that time of the year when the writers need to fill their woke quota. Feminism is the theme of tonight’s episode, which means it’s all about sapphic Cheryl through the ages.

The year is 2022. Or at least, that’s what 1957 (Poppy’s timeline) plus 65 adds to but who cares!

Nana Roseanne Blossom (Nana Rosanna?) is nearing her end. Cheryl attempts to move things along by boring her to death reading to her the family memoirs. Britta is also present to ask pertinent exegetical questions.

The first story is that of Abigail Blossom and Thomasina Topaz schoolmistresses extraordinaires. Don’t be fooled by their juvenile hairstyles: they are indeed adults.

Thomagail’s romance starts after a tumultuous fight over curriculum issues in front of their young wards. Is it appropriate for young girls to gaze up at comets? No, that was not a euphemism. Now, that might seem a topic better discussed before the start of the lessons, but who am I to talk scheduling to the Riverdale writers?

It turns out mistress Thomasina killed her abusive husband in self-defense. Constable Keller turns up to arrest her. If only she had changed her name when fleeing to the town nearest to her own …  

A faked case of pox succeeds in keeping the constable away but not soldier, warlock and amateur photographer Fen Fogarty. He informs Cheryl of her brother’s death in battle. I am absolutely gobsmacked by the fact that a war did actually take place in 1892! What?!

Fen has forged a letter from Jason in order to obtain Cheryl’s hand and fortune in marriage. Thomagail uncover his dastardly plan but he blackmails them with an axe.

He must have left said axe lying around as he got undressed, because on the night of Bailey’s comet passing Earth, Abigail uses it to chop him up. There’s so much blood spurting everywhere, that some must have inevitably gone into her eyes messing with her aim. That’s the only reasonable explanation for Fen surviving his axing, getting up, cleaning up his bloody hands, and calmly cursing Abigail before actually dying. Oh well.

Next up is Poppyseed Blossom’s story from the ‘50s. She’s holding salons that act as a front to reading banned books (Lady Chatterley’s Lover) and providing Rivervale’s female population with root remedies.

These f.e. include herbs that will give TamTam’s husband a stomach bug so that she can take his place working at their family Diner, for what I can only surmise will be no payment.

Apparently, there is no girl code in the ‘50s, ‘cause the Rivervale women tattle to their husbands. The husbands are not pleased.

One would think that sex marathons would be welcomed but Velma’s husband seems quite irate by his wife feeding him an aphrodisiac. Is he embarrassed for liking the pegging?

Jack, who doesn’t know how Vale!Betty rolls, pressures Bitsy into finally agreeing to having a second baby. Mark my words, his days, much like Archie’s in 6x01, are numbered.

Ep4Vale!Blossom, unlike Ep1Vale!Blossom, is against group think.

Kirk the FBI agent questions Poppy.  “Confess you are a communist or I’ll put you in jail to rot” says Kirk, who would have to put Poppy in jail to rot if she did confess she were a communist, 1954 Act and all.

Bitsy visits her in jail for no evident narrative reason.

Poppy remains in her cell for 9 months. She is not allowed to see anyone except her hairdresser and her manicurist.

She finally leaves her cell to help Bitsy deliver her baby in the hospital, as all the doctors and nurses have gone away to observe Bailey’s comet.

Back in nowadays Thornhill, Sabrina the twenty-something witch, makes an appearance to help with a spell and also to explain to Britta -the only person still invested in these stories- what happened. Exposition, thy name is Riverdale Rivervale.

It was a classic body swap, Freaky Friday style, Sabrina says. Cheryl is now Nana Rose and dead Nana Rose is Abigail/Poppyseed/Cheryl, who were all but the same person cursed to eternal life by Fen. Which is to say this episode was a colossal waste of my time.

Happy sad endings are the best, conclude the same writers who gave us 19 episodes of misery in s5.

Toffee has been busy smuggling various Blossom heirlooms from Thornhill. Period pieces sell like hot cakes on e-bay! She’s getting ready to hitch a ride with Jughead through Riverdale’s Cinematic Multiverse.

[i-luv-sweets]

|Use Less Gun| Yandere Engie x reader Part 5

Something made your stomach uneasy. Throughout your school day the feeling twisted and contorted into a conflicted mess. Perhaps it was the thought of your math teacher...or perhaps it was Tia snoring into your ear.

“Tia...Tia! Wake up! The subject is ending.” You whisper yelled to the half awake girl. Tia fluttered her eyes desperately trying to awaken herself.

“Sorry Y/N...Scoince..borin...” The young girl’s eyes started to drop as every sluggish word she spoke became more and more flagging. A peeved groan escaped you.

Luckily for your friend, the teacher seemed to not mind. In fact he laughed it off and joked about pouring ice water on sleeping students. Mr.Johnson was one of the good ones you had to admit. After classes Tia cheerfully sauntered down the hall.

“So birthday girl, excited for Saturday? Only four days away.” The brown haired girl nodded in enthusiasm.

“I expect you to post of of your books for my birthday gift. Preferably one of the adventure fantasy.” She spoke with a sly smile. her words only made you roll your eyes playfully.

”Do me a favor”

You overheard in the large crowd of students, unsure to why you overheard it. You shouldn’t be eavesdropping, you thought. Fidgeting with the strap of your backpack, you gave her a small smile.

“I can’t do that Tia, I still need to impro-” The female hastily put a finger to your lips.

“You will ruin the birthday wish. Please, please!” The urge for you to refuse grew strong inside you. However Tia’s pleading gaze made it hard to turn down.

“What if I fail Tia? They will-”

“They won’t ban you, you’re being dramatic. Just keep trying again and again.” She spoke with a deadpan before patting your back with a beaming smile.

“I’m your number 1 fan!” 

Soon you parted ways with Tia, starting to stroll back to your apartment. With every step you took the same festering displeasure started to overcome you. It was certain that you turned in every assignment. You didn’t forget anything did you? It was a couple of blocks before you reached home, so it wouldn’t hurt to check.

Kneeling down you unzipped your backpack. Rummaging through your books and papers, there didn’t seem to be anything missing. Then the sound of dense footsteps reached your ears. Danger.

That’s what shot through you. The flooding feeling of caution and hazard. Picking up your back you staggered forward. You didn’t dare look back. It was your mind maybe? If you cross the street and they don’t follow you then you were safe right? Following your idea, you crossed the street. 

The feeling of dread went through you once the footsteps didn’t fade away. Your heart was set into a frantic motion, almost feeling as if it were to burst. 

This was no time to panic or go home. It was time to be smart about this. You walked in busy streets and stayed near other people. You wanted to glance back but you were too distressed. You knew you couldn’t stay outside forever. What was the plan? The police station is too far away to just walk.

“Need a lift sugercube?” Your eyes quickly focused on the familiar person in the car. Nodding your head you walked up to the vehicle without a second thought and climbed in.

Upon closing the door you left out a sigh of relief. Unwinding from the experience that you had just encountered.

“Y/N, ya looked uncomfortable there. Was somethin wrong?” All you did to respond was nod. Your brain was still processing what could’ve happened.

“I think I was being followed.” You mumbled, looking out the window to hopefully take a glance at the stalker. However with the many people walking around, it was impossible to pinpoint who was following you. Dell hummed in understanding.

“Yeah that fella with a messy hair do. Ah don’t mean ta sound creepy, but ah saw you walk for awhile with that guy followin ya.” The texan explained keeping his eyes on the road.

Taking your eyes off of the window you looked at Dell with a small smile.

“No need to apologise Dell, i’m glad you saw what happened. Don’t know what i’d do id you weren’t there.” The sentence that Engie heard filled him with delight. It felt nice to be the reason on why you were safe.

“Weren’t no thang. Ah just want you safe.” He said now pulling up to your apartment. 

The two of you left the car and entered the elevator.

“You should be more careful from now on. Ya don’t know when tha guy will come back.” You agreed with him. Whoever that was, they probably were gonna try again.

“I’ll maybe bring a taser in my backpack.” You half joked to the texan. He chuckled and nodded at your suggestion.

“Won’t be a bad idea. Just remind me not ta scare you.” He spoke trying to poke fun at the situation and lift it somehow. Not long after, the elevator doors released to expose the hallway to your apartment.

For the next hour you both went over topics. However Dell found it difficult to focus on the subject. The words formed into incoherent jumbles in his mind. All he could think about was your frightened expression. You eyes when desperately walking away showing signs of dread and stress. Then that man. No that wasn’t a man, he looked younger. The same age as Y/N. There was a dark purple backpack hanging onto him. Which meant he was from a school. 

Dell knew he shouldn’t be meddling in other people’s business but you were his friend. It would be terrible if you got hurt. He can’t just stand by and let that happen. It was that and also the fact that he was slightly smitten with you. His eyes soon wandering to your slightly messy hair, though you looked so pretty with that wild and free look. Glancing up at the man you saw his softened eyes.

Giving him a quirky grin you raised a brow.

“Oh? What are you staring at cowboy?”

Engie’s face flushed deep red upon being caught.

“Sorry, sorry, ah was lost in thought. Ah wasn’t starings ah-ah, oh dagnabbit.” You couldn’t help but giggle at his flustered expression.

“I was just teasing, it’s me who is sorry.” You spoke placing a hand on his shoulder to try and calm him down. Dell studied your face as his reddened face now turned into a light pink. It appeared to him that you believed his half fast lie.

“ s’alriaght you were just jokin. Anyway any other subject?” He asked trying to advert the situation.

Giving you a moment to think, Engineer was responded with a simple shake of the head. 

“Our time is up anyways. You should be heading home.” You suggested, the feeling of distress once again festering in your stomach. To be frank, you didn’t want him to leave yet. May it be the adrenaline still in you or how he was a comforting friend, you just didn’t want him to leave yet. Inside Engineer’s mine he himself did not want to depart from you too. It was beyond comprehension as to why someone followed you. However Dell didn’t want to take chances.

There was a monotone silence between the two of you. The cumbersome feeling of not being alone you both had somehow made it worse. It was clear as crystal to the two of you though. It could be through intuition or just the fact that none of you decided to move.

“Say, you were bein watched. This may be outta line, but would it be ok if ah stay tha naight?” 

“Sure why not?” You responded too quickly for your liking. Almost sounded like you were desperate. You cringed at that singular thought.

With you agreeing though, it somehow identified like this was a usual thing for the two of you.

“It’s not out of line, I trust you.” The word trust shouldn’t be used lightly, you knew this. However you sensed that it could be your people pleaser side talking.

“Mighty kind of ya.” Dell said with modesty in his tone and a broad grin.

“I’ll just order food, lord knows what might happen this time.” You jested leading the texan to chuckle.

“Nah don’t waste your money. Ya paid last taihm, it’s mah turn.” 

Dell was glad that the tension was gone. Though in the back of his mind he still felt like he was overstepping too much. They just started to become friends and he’s once again staying over. You must of sensed some type of worry from him because you patted his back.

“So what ya feel like ordering?” The mild distraction calmed his thoughts. That and the sweet smile you were giving him. Oh dear, he was falling into a rabbit hole. One that had the possibility of him not getting out. But that didn’t seem like a bad thing at all in his mind.

You both just ordered a random food and sat on the couch waiting. It was very serene and nice just hanging out with your friend. Dell had a creeping question in his mind. Did you have a job? That wasn’t any of his business and he was pretty sure he had overstepped too much to even question. So it might’ve been best if he stayed quiet.

The rest of the night was tranquil, all you both did was eat and watch TV until it became late.

“Ah shoot, ah left mah phone in my car. Ah’ll be raight back.” Engie spoke up and was met with you giving him a small smile and nodding.

“I’ll ready up the guest room. Or well, Tia’s room.” You stampered out, now making a dorky look. Nodding he left your apartment and closed the door to go to his car.

The walk wasn’t that long, soon he was at his car. Opening the door he took out his phone and placed it in his pocket. Turning around to head back inside he felt something off. Looking around, he took in his surroundings. Nothing looked out of place. Keeping his guard up Engie walked back inside to the elevator. Upon exiting the elevator he saw someone talking to you in the doorway. A boy with messy hair and a purple bag.

From the look on your face you were ready to close the door. Adrenaline shot through him before he hurriedly speed walked towards the two of you.

While Engie was tying him up you went inside to call the cops. This was going to be a long night, you knew this too well.

“I’m sorry but I was about to head to bed.”

“No it’s fine I just wanted to talk anyways.”

“Who are ya?” Dell suddenly spoke up with a stoic look on his face. Studying the person more, he had light brown hair with freckles. His body was a lean type, one with a gangling figure. His hoodie that he wore had a few holes tattered here and there. His pants looked messy as well since one pants leg was pulled up while the other was down.

“Oh i’m a friend of Y/N. She invited me.” Now what kind of half assed lie was that?

You shook your head at Dell. Showing no indication that you have invited this young man over. Luckily the visitor didn’t catch that from you. Engineer narrowed his eyes to the stranger.

“Ah don’t recall Y/N inviting ya. It was just tha two of us.” The young man rolled his eyes seeming agitated by the interruption.

“Look you’re just not a close friend to her like I am.”

How many times was he just going to lie. Engie shook his head and took a step forward.

“Ah don’t want to be rude. But you best be off now stringbean. It’s clear that she doesn’t want anything to do with ya.” He spoke with a reasonable and calm tone. You backed into your apartment slowly, none of the men noticing your disappearance.

“Don’t tell me what to do! I just need to talk to her and that’s it!” The guy exclaimed reaching for something in his bag.

Dell was quick to reach in his pants pocket as well. The stranger pulled out a hammer and charged towards the texan. But was met with a frying pan to the face. Engineer was flabbergasted at what just took place. His eyes then landed on you holding a dark frying pan in your hand. With the man on the floor and supposedly knocked out. 

Swiftly moving his hand away from his pocket, Dell gave you an astounded look.

“Hot damn you could hit.” He commented making you awkwardly laugh and rubbing the back of your neck.

“The pan did all the work...So what do we do with him?” You asked now staring at the man who was out cold. Engie’s gaze faltered between the man and you.

“It should be best ta tie him up. Then we can call tha police.”

You walked inside your home and only found zip ties. An unpleasant shudder went through your spinal cord. You were lucky, too lucky. If Dell wasn’t here, you would’ve gotten hurt. The worse case scenario would be you dead. You couldn’t ignore the appalling unconfined fear surging through you. Too many scenarios flooding into your head and seeping in. Shaking off the horrific scenes, you staggered back to Engineer.

“I only got zip ties.”

“Guess that’ll do.” He said taking the two zip ties and tying up both the legs and hands together.

[itsybitchylittlewitchy]

The new arrivals- Part 7

My master post is here with all the other parts!

Pairing: Loki x Female reader

Summary: You are Y/N the Goddess of Victory, niece of Tony Stark and you run the Avengers training facility based in the Highlands of Scotland. Thor, Loki and a ship full of Asgardians arrive and you need to help.

Word count: 3.5K

Warnings: SMUT like alot of it, you guys know the drill(18+ Don’t make me ban you horny teens) unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), Mentions of death and killing so if your triggered by that sorry!

Any Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all the love so far. You guys are amazing!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 200 FOLLOWERS!🖤💚🖤

Let me know if you want me to keep writing more! And if you want added to the tag list!

@word-addict-lisette @with-inked-solace @queen-of-mischief @faraum

Walking towards your guest room in the compound, your mind was still reeling from all that your aunt Pepper had just told you, you now had more questions than answers, “Who was your father? Why was this necklace so important?” you thought as you idlily tossed the intricate round metal case that had housed the necklace back and forth in your hands. Opening the door to your guest room you found Loki sitting on the bed, his nose still buried deep in his book from the plane. He looked up when he seen you enter, still throwing the metal ball side to side in your hands. He immediately got up and tackled you to the ground “Y/N!! GET DOWN” he screamed, letting the necklace case crash to the floor and open, revealing it to be empty. “What the hell Loki?” you grimaced, pushing him off you. Loki looked terrified and confused at the empty case. “Y/N why do you have that? Don’t you know what that is?!”, “yes, it’s a necklace case Loki” you said, rolling your eyes at the God before you. “This is a casing designed to contain an infinity stone.” He explained picking you up and sitting you on the end of the bed, taking both your hands in his, making an illusion appear in the middle of you both, visually showing what he was explaining “Infinity stones are powerful remnants of six singularities that existed prior to the big bang, they were compressed into stones by powerful cosmic beings after our universe began and then scattered throughout the 9 realms. The case you have, at one point contained one of these powerful stones. You’ve already seen another” he said, an image of the Tesseract appearing in between you both. “This was all that was inside it” you explained clutching the necklace that was around your neck. “Aunt Pepper told me it belonged to my father, but she didn’t know any more than that”, “May I?” Loki asked, you nodded before he placed his hand to your forehead. Images flashed inside your head, until they stabilised, and you could make out your mother, or at least what you knew she looked like from old family photographs. She was lying on a car bonnet, wrapped in the arms of a dark headed man, gazing at the beautiful blanket of stars above. “Oh Gail, these past months have been wonderful, I wish I didn’t need to return home” The man said, placing a kiss on her forehead, “I wish you didn’t need to either Garthan, can’t you stay for a little while longer?” she said, looking up to gaze into his eyes, “Sadly I can’t, people will start to realise I’ve left, but, I need you to take care of something for me beautiful” He smiled sadly, offering her the metal orb you recognised to be the necklace case. She opened it taking out the beautiful pendant you currently wore, but inside it was a glowing purple stone. “It’s beautiful Garthan” she gasped sitting up and turning around, asking him to put it on her. She held it close to her heart and kissed him passionately. Stradling him. You gathered this must have been the night you where conceived. The memories flashed forward to a small cottage nestled in the valley of Glencoe in Scotland, surrounded by mountains and trees. Your mother was leaning over a bassinet dangling the purple necklace into it, a tiny Y/H/C haired baby reaching out her tiny hands trying to grab it, before it was magically pulled down to the small baby, letting her chew gently on it while giggling. Gaining a laugh from your mother, “now, now, Little Y/N, you’re not playing fair, you know Mummy can’t do cool things like that” she cooed to the baby, while taking the necklace and placing it back around her. Suddenly a large flash of light blinded your mother, and she ducked down in front of your bassinet. “Hear me and rejoice! You have the privilege of being saved by the Great Titan. Smile... for even in death, you will become a child of Thanos." A voice cheerfully said, coming from the land out to the front of the cottage. After pausing for a moment to gently stroke your cheek, she headed out to be greeted by a tall grey looking creature and a larger purple creature towering next to him. “You have something that doesn’t

belong to you mortal” a deep voice calmly said, as the purple creature stepped forward looming menacingly above your mother, “I’m fairly certain it doesn’t belong to you either. Leave, I pose no threat to you” She pleaded, clutching onto the necklace. “Hear me and rejoice! You have the privilege of being saved by the…”, “yeah, yeah I heard you the first time” your mother interrupted, holding up a hand to stop the relentless droaning of the grey being. “Enough” Thanos said, reaching out a hand to grab the necklace from your mother, only to be sent flying backwards with a swift punch. She looked up with a smirk, “weren’t expecting that where you big guy?” she quipped. Thanos sat back up and looked at her, “No…I wasn’t. Proxima deal with her” Thanos said as you seen a blue horned woman run a sword through your mothers back, piercing her through the heart as she let out a small cry and collapsed in a pool of blood on the damp, cold grass. Thanos slowly walked towards her body and pulled the necklace from her, opening the pendant and taking the purple stone from it. He placed it onto the gold gauntlet that decorated his hand, and revelled in the power of it, before walking back to the looming spaceship behind them.” And disappearing in a flash of blue light.

Back in the present in your guest bedroom you snapped out of the memory falling forward into Loki’s embrace, sobbing loudly as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, trying to sooth your broken heart. He gently laid you both back onto the bed as you sobbed into his chest, shaking like a fragile leaf in the wind. He stroked your hair gently, pressing kisses to your forehead, letting you get it all out. For hours you just laid there with Loki, tear stains still on your cheeks as you gently sniffled, trying to come to terms with everything you had seen. “Y/N, do you want to talk about what we saw?” Loki calmly asked, you gently nodded as you gripped onto him tighter, afraid to let go of him. He scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the bathroom, where he prepared a relaxing bubble bath for you both. “Horrible subjects are so much easier to discuss when you’re cuddling in a warm bath” he gently smiled, kissing your forehead, trying to comfort you. As you sunk into the hot bath, leaning back onto Loki’s chiselled chest, he continued to press gentle kisses onto your tear-stained face. “So Thanos killed my mother” you finally said, in a shaky voice. “Yes darling, I’m so sorry” Loki sympathised, “and from what I could gather, you were conceived while your mother possessed the power stone, that must be why you, my dear are a Goddess. Well, that combined with your fathers Xandarian DNA.” He said gently stroking your cheek. You sat there in stunned silence. You had been searching for these answers your entire life, and now? You wished you never knew the brutal fate of your mother. Another tear fell down your cheek again, joining the rest. It wasn’t fair. Loki turned you around to face him, leaning in to kiss your tears away before resting a passionate kiss on your lips. You leaned into the kiss, gripping his raven locks with your hands, desperate to lose yourself in the moment. You felt his stiff member leaning against your aching core. Loki began to kiss a trail from your neck to your breasts, taking each of your hardened nipples into his mouth, nipping and rolling his tongue on them, making you moan aloud throwing your head back, arching your back. You leaned down to grasp his thick shaft easing it into your aching pussy and backing down slowly onto it, taking it in in its entirety. Loki brought his hips up to meet yours as he lovingly began to roll his hips against you, his eyes gazing at yours full of pure adoration and lust. He reached down taking your nipple once again into his mouth as you both neared your climax, your breath becoming ragged and desperate for the sweet release of pleasure as you both called out for each other, falling against each other, surrendering to the ecstasy as the water poured over the side of the bath, spilling onto the marble floor.

After your bath together you both began to prepare for the party, you chose to wear a black velvet plunge dress, it was the type of dress you couldn’t wear a bra with because the slit went down as far as the top of your abdomen, and it was completely backless. You paired this with your father’s necklace, and a pair of emerald-green heels to match your silver and emerald drop earrings accompanied with your long Y/H/C hair curled and cascading down your exposed back. Loki emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a smart black suit, with an emerald-green tie, and stopped, his mouth agape as he caught sight of you. “What?” you laughed, suddenly concerned you looked ridiculous. “I honestly thought it wasn’t possible for you to look anymore beautiful, and yet, my dear you manage it” he grinned wrapping his hands around your waist sending a shiver down your spine as his hands made contact with your exposed back, capturing your lips with his. You smiled into his kiss and wrapped your hands around his neck. “Thank you” you whispered, “For what?” Loki questioned with a laugh, “Just being you, and being here for me. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it Loki” you smiled closing your eyes and pressing your forehead to his. “Anytime darling, I’d do anything for the people I love” he whispered gazing into your quickly opened stunned eyes. “I think I love you too Loki” you whispered, your eyes becoming glassy again. You knew logically you only met him a few days prior, but you couldn’t deny there wasn’t another person alive you felt closer to, including your aunt and uncle. Loki smiled taking your lips into his and kissing you deeply and lovingly. “Well then my love, would you like to accompany me to this hellish swaray tonight?” Loki grinned offering you his elbow to take, “Why thank you kind sir, it would be my honour” You teased, curtsying to him before taking his arm and heading to the main living area.

The room was already full of party goers when you and Loki arrived, some people you recognised, others you didn’t but the sight of young Peter Parker running up to you made you grin from ear to ear “Miss Y/N”, “I’ve told you before Peter, just call me Y/N!” you grinned as you gave him a hug. The kid had become a bit of a younger brother to you ever since Tony had taken him under his wing. You knew Uncle Tony loved him like a son, even if he could never admit it. “Uhh hi Mr Loki” Peter said, extending a hand towards the God, Loki simply looked at it, raising his eyebrow, before sighing and putting on his best smile saying “It’s actually just Loki kid, but its nice to meet you” taking his hand and shaking it. You could tell Loki was making an effort for your sake, but this certainly wasn’t his cup of tea. You excused yourself and Loki from Peter and headed across the room to meet Tony and Pepper, grabbing a glass of champagne each along the way, hands entwined. Pepper was the first to spot you both wrapping you and Loki in a warm embrace before saying “Welcome, welcome” to Loki, who smiled, despite himself. “Rock of…” Tony started, stopping when you shot him a death glare “Loki” he corrected himself, forcing a smile onto his face, for your sake and shaking Loki’s hand. “I gather double congratulations are in order?” Loki smiled, trying his best to be polite, they where the closest thing you had to family, and he wanted them to at least tolerate him. “Uncle Harold” you grinned wrapping your arms around Happy, Tony’s bodyguard and lifelong friend, closely followed by “Uncle Roadie!” you grinned. “I want you all to meet Loki, we’re sort of together now” you smiled, taking Loki’s hand in yours and giving it a small kiss. “We’ve…uh heard a lot about you Loki” Roadie awkwardly smiled. “But all I care about is if your able to make this gal here happy, and you certainly look happy sweetie” Happy exclaimed lifting his glass of champagne to clink with yours. You looked at Loki, smiling. Was that relief you could see on his face? He certainly looked more relaxed than he had when you first walked in. “If you’ll excuse us, please” Loki smiled grabbing you onto the dancefloor and pulling you into a slow dance, his hand resting on the base of your bare back, his other hand locked in yours. “It’s torturous to share you with all these people tonight, especially when you look so ravishing my dear” Loki smirked pulling you closer to him. “Well, we could sneak away later, but we really do need to stay for a while longer” you reminded him, as you placed your head on his chest enjoying this peaceful moment with the God as he held you close, swaying to the music. “There you are brother!” Thor’s voice boomed as he slapped Loki on the back, jolting him forward, a stein of beer in his other hand sloshing all over the place, interrupting you both, “Come, I want you to meet the rest of our friends” Thor smiled, pulling Loki over to a small seating area where Bruce, Sam, Natasha, Barton, and Bucky all sat. Loki looked back at you, eyes practically screaming out for you to help, you laughed shaking your head and headed over to meet up with everyone. “Y/N!” everyone yelled out, pleased to see you “and Loki…” Natasha grimaced. “Right, that’s enough of that guys, Loki is with me now, I won’t have you guys being rude to him.” You said, rising to your full height and pointing to them all. Loki smiled at you, grateful for the support, before taking a seat next to Thor. You where about to join him when you felt a hand on your shoulder. “I heard you needed to have a chat with us?” Nick Fury said turning you around, with Maria next to him. “I do, but this isn’t the time or place Nick. I’m holding a team meeting tomorrow, let everyone enjoy their night without this spoiling it” you stated bluntly, taking a sip of your champagne. “Is it that serious Y/N?” Maria questioned sensing how anxious you were. “It is, but as for tonight, I want to drink, be with my friends and celebrate the wedding I should have been invited to” You forced a laugh, downing the rest of

your glass before leaving to fetch another. You headed back over to the group where Loki was, catching the end of his conversation with Natasha and Sam, “We’re both heading over to meet Cap tomorrow evening, in case he needs any help locating Wanda and Vision, since they’re overdue on checking in” Natasha said to Loki. “Make sure he’s not burnt down the place for me?” you smirked sitting next to Loki, he placed a hand on your knee giving it a reassuring rub. “That’s a beautiful necklace Y/N” Thor practically yelled at you, “Did Loki get you it?” he grinned earning him a warning glare from Loki. “No, he didn’t” you forced a smile, “I’ll explain everything at the team meeting tomorrow. 10am everyone” a chorus of groans met you as the team rolled their eyes collectively, clearly unhappy with the notion of an early wake up call tomorrow after the party.

The party continued later into the night; the drinks where flowing. Pepper called you over asking you to bring out the surprise gender reveal cake she had mentioned to you before. Tapping on her glass she began her speech, “Thank you all so much for coming tonight,” Pepper smiled, “I thought that since your all here tonight it would be the perfect time to announce the gender of the latest Stark soon to be making their appearance” She said with a protective hand on her baby bump. Tony looked at her surprised, kissing her sweetly. You wheeled out the grand 3 tier White cake, decorated with adorable blue and pink baby sized ironman characters. You handed Pepper a large golden knife for them to cut into the cake. Once they cut a slice everyone cheered seeing the bright pink sponge in the middle of the cake. Pepper cried tears of joy as Tony kissed her and placed another kiss on her bump. “I can’t believe it” he grinned, tears spilling from his eyes. You rushed over and hugged them both, overjoyed at the thought of the newest Stark being a sweet baby girl. “You’re about to be outnumbered Uncle Tony” you laughed at him a few stray tears falling down your cheeks. “Don’t remind me kiddo” he smiled hugging you tightly.

Having fulfilled your familial duty, you found Loki and dragged him down the corridor back towards your guest room, slamming him into the door as you hungrily kissed him, massaging your tongue against his. He reached his hand up your dress to find your lacy panties soaked already. “mmmmh” Loki growled in approval into your kiss as your breath hitched as he teased your entrance with his slick fingers covered in your sweet arousal, before curling them inside you making you moan into his mouth, keeping your hands wrapped around his neck to stabilise yourself, your legs turning to jelly under his touch. With his thumb beginning to play with your aching clit you felt your legs shudder once more, your mind racing thinking of all those people back at the party who could catch you both at any minute. The thrill of being caught. Loki’s breath on your neck. His magical fingers fucking you relentlessly where enough to leave you screaming in pleasure biting down on his shoulder as you rode his fingers, riding out your orgasm. “Hmmm, someone’s into exhibitionism” Loki teased, “Would you like to let all those people know who can make you scream for them?” he growled into your ear before pulling you through the door into your shared room. “Shall we take this to the balcony?” You purred into Loki’s ear, “you naughty girl, You do want everyone to know who you belong to don’t you?” he grinned, picking you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as you kissed him passionately. “Hold on tight” he smirked as he perched you on top of the glass balcony’s railing, his hand safely wrapped around your back to support you, while positioning himself at your soaked entrance with his needy cock. You wrapped your legs around his waist again as you pulled him closer, wanting to feel him deeper in your hungry pussy. He picked you up and slammed you against the glass window of your bedroom and pinned your hands above your head, as he freed one of your breasts from your dress, sucking and biting the hardened peak until you where squirming and whimpering in his arms, being held up by his cock alone as he thrust harder into you, your vision seeing black spots as an orgasm threatened to overwhelm you, “Cum for me Y/N! cum for your master!” Loki growled at you as you came undone in his arms, screaming out his name, his breath becoming ragged as he thrust into you again, filling you with his hot seed. A chorus of wolf whistles from bellow the balcony made you both freeze as Loki looked over his shoulder to the grassy area bellow only to see Thor, Barton and Natasha all laughing and clearly enjoying the show. “You’re a naughty girl tonight” Natasha mocked, “Fuck” you laughed, turning a deep shade of red, as you retreated to the privacy of the bedroom, Loki on the other hand put his cock back in his trousers and bowed to them all with an elegant flourish. Leaving you laughing in disbelief. “You’re some guy” you laughed shaking your head, “Darling I’m a God, not a guy” Loki winked inviting you to join him in a hot shower.

Let me know if you want more parts!

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[givemea-dam-break]

hello there! could you maybe write a fic with alina where the reader is a shadow summoner and the darkling’s sister (she keeps to herself but isn’t evil like her brother)? and alina happens to shine a light on her dark heart and they fall in love?

a/n: ok i love this so yes definitely and it also means i get to add a new section to my masterlist! i like adding new sections hehe. anyways, i hope you enjoy this - i brainstormed ideas for it during study while making music flashcards :) Warnings: none Words: 1.2K Female reader part 2, part 3

Candles flicker around you, illuminating your dark corner of the library as moonlight seeps in through the large glass windows of the Little Palace. There's no one else there but you, providing the silence you always craved during the days when every part of the Little Palace is filled to the brim with Grisha, all of which argue with each other the second they get the chance to. You're particularly glad that it's your brother who has to deal with them and not you. When you reach a particularly interesting part of the book you're reading, the library doors slide open, barely making a sound. The only giveaway to knowing that someone else was coming in was the sound of footsteps - heavy ones, followed by significantly lighter ones. You cast your gaze up, eyes catching the people approaching. "Brother," you say, feigning a smile. "What do you need this time?" Your brother, more commonly known as the Darkling, strides over, standing straight before you. "Sister," he says, voice tight. "I need you to teach our Sun Summoner about Grisha history - it seems that she's not as caught up as we need her to be." Your eyes dart over to the figure next to your brother. You haven't personally met the Sun Summoner before, she had only just arrived a few days ago, but you've seen her from a distance and heard her name in the Grisha gossip during the day. She's around your age (or, at least, how old you look) with long brown hair and sunken brown eyes. Her skin is sallow as if she hasn't eaten and slept enough, and she seems absolutely drained but there's something about her that draws your attention, though you're not sure what, "At this time?" you ask. "It's almost midnight." Your brother's grey eyes darken - it isn't a request, it's an order. Unfortunately for him, you don't take orders. "I'll do it in the morning," you negotiate. "She looks like she's about to drop down dead and I was about to head to bed." You stand from your chair, rising to the same height as the Darkling, quirking an eyebrow in challenge. This is how things always went and, luckily for you, you always have a knack for winning - a knack for winning arguments, which is why your more diplomatic brother took charge. "Fine," he says, relenting. Then, he looks to the Sun Summoner and gives her a glimpse of a smile. "Alina, this is my sister, y/n. As you might have guessed, she'll be teaching you Grisha history. Y/n, this is Alina Starkov, the Sun Summoner." I gathered that, you think, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. Alina manages to smile at you, tugging at the sleeves of her blue kefta. "I must get going," your brother says. "Goodnight, Alina. Goodnight, y/n." Then, he turns on his heel and makes his way out of the large library. There's a moment of silence before Alina speaks. "I didn't realise the Darkling has a sister," she says, voice smooth like honey. "No one does," you say, tucking your book back into the slot you keep it in. "I'm not really a point of interest. I got banned from assisting in anything; he's more diplomatic, but sometimes you need a good argument to get your point across. Honestly, I couldn't care less, and at least he gets the backlash for the Fold and not me." It's well-deserved, too. "But he didn't create it," Alina says, brows furrowing. "The Black Heretic did, centuries ago." It's a hard task keeping your mouth shut, but it's not the right time to say anything. Let her go to Bahgra, first, you decide. Then I can talk to Bahgra and decide the best way to go about this. "Can I give you a little advice?" Alina nods. "Don't trust anyone, not even yourself." "Not even you?" Alina's brow quirks. "Or your brother?" "Especially not us." From the glint in her eyes, you can tell she thinks that you're playing with her. You're not. You're far from doing that. "I'll walk you to your room," you say, "and I'll get Genya to fetch you in the morning." -- The next few days are spent doing as your brother demanded and helping Alina in her studies of past Grisha and Saints, of which she already knew a little bit from her

childhood. For a girl claiming she isn't Grisha, she's extremely interested in the history, though you can't fault her. At first, you were the exact same, and, plus, Grisha history is some of the best history. You find yourself smiling more during the time spent with Alina. It's like she can control the light in more ways than thought, making it spiral inside of you. It leaves you feeling happier, less gloomy, and makes spending time with her more enjoyable. "Why don't you wear a black kefta?" Alina asks one day. You both sit by the lake a small distance away from Baghra's little hut, meaning there's less chance of Alina being late when her lesson starts. The breeze is light and cool, the scent of freshly rained on soil and apples woven through like flowers through hair. "I'm technically a Summoner," you say, hands brushing over the blue kefta you wear. The only hint to your power is the black embroidered patterns on your cuffs. "And I don't like the dramatics of my brother; black this, black that, make everything black! I mean, the entirety of his bed-chamber is black, it's terrible." Alina laughs. "He tried to get me to wear a black kefta, too." "You also want to fit in, huh?" "Like calls to like." Who's she quoting, Baghra or your brother? "With what we Darklings face," you say, "I guess he's allowed to have his dramatics. The only way for people to listen to us is through fear." "Not for me." You look at Alina. The sunlight hits her at such an angle so that her brown eyes look like pools of copper and bronze, simultaneously making her face look less sallow and tired. Genya would be over the moon at how... beautiful she looks. "I don't fear you," she says. "Baghra and Zoya are scarier." You laugh. "Zoya will warm up to you eventually, she just hates not being the centre of my brother's attention." "What about Baghra?" Alina picks up a dried leaf and twists the stem in her fingers. "What's her story? Why's she so... Baghra?" "It's not my place to tell you her story," you say. "She'll tell you given time, I'm sure, but if there's anyone you can trust, it's her." "I thought you told me to trust no one?" You smile softly. "I did, but I'm sure you can make an exception for Baghra." Alina frowns, but her eyes are playful and the corners of her lips quirk up. "I'd rather trust someone who doesn't poke and prod at me, or slap me with a stick." "Like who?" "Like you."