#patriarchy collapsing on itself

[wholoveseggs]

Hi! I really love your work i was wondering if you could do a fic with Elijah and fem reader when he was still human, i really liked the one you did with viking Elijah, could you do it similar but when him and reader first meet and they start to date and they are both virgins and they have sex for the first time. Thank youuu!

Solstice

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Viking!Elijah Mikaelson x Reader} In a small Viking village, love blooms as Elijah steals your heart. But a winter storm prevents your future plans, forcing secrets to surface and your bond to grow stronger than ever.

♡♡ Thank you sweet anon(s) youu know I adore viking elijah!!! Here is a long fluffly, HAPPY story of sweet angel eli falling in love for the first time ♡♡

9k words - Warnings: smutttt, viking theme, a sprinkle of Niklaus, lots of flirting, both reader & Elijah are virgins, nervous and shy Elijah, sooo so sappy and sweet, lots of kisses and longing, amazing parents that we all wish we had (or do have? idku), classic patriarchy viking stuff, outdoor sex, pregnancy, mushrooms && an unfortunate hare ...

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @sweetieseven

@xoxo-shy @nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore @theotherworld97

@origshipfan @cocoabliss

As soon as the leaves began to turn, the village became a flurry of activity. The summer months had been kind to the village, and the harvest was bountiful. But there was still much work to be done to prepare for the winter. You did what you could to help your family, as well as the rest of the village.

Today you set out to pick some herbs. It was a chore that you didn't mind, especially on such a beautiful day. Your mother had given you a basket, and you walked through the forest collecting anything that could be used in the healing remedies.

Kneeling down to pick a handful of ripe berries, you stilled at a sudden sound—leaves rustling, a faint snap of twigs. Your hand instinctively reached for your knife, but you forced yourself to remain calm, reminding yourself that large animals were rarely seen near the village, especially during daylight.

To your relief, a hare darted through the brush, nose twitching, large eyes staring back at you as if sizing you up. Smiling, you crouched and reached for a few berries in your basket.

"Hello there," you murmured, extending the food toward the creature, watching its tiny nose sniff the air.

Just as it leaned closer, you heard a soft rustle. An instant later, an arrow shot past, embedding itself in the hare’s side. The animal let out a soft, pitiful sound and tried to flee, but it only managed a few feet before collapsing, blood seeping into the forest floor.

“Oh no…” you whispered, standing abruptly, eyes scanning for the source of the arrow.

Through the trees, a young man emerged, his expression frustrated as he approached the hare, crouching beside it. His blond curls fell over his shoulders, and his blue eyes shone with both impatience and frustration. He muttered a curse under his breath and ended the creature’s suffering with quick precision.

"You must learn patience, Niklaus," another voice said, and a second figure stepped out of the shadows.

Your gaze shifted to this newcomer. His dark hair was tied back loosely, his face more serious, yet his brown eyes held a warmth that softened his features.

"Patience?" Niklaus scoffed, wiping his blade on the grass. "Brother, can you see it was a perfect shot … until the wind changed at the last second."

The dark-haired one chuckled. "Much like how that doe 'vanished into thin air,' or how the 'boar outran you.’" He turned, catching sight of you. For a moment, the easy humor faded from his expression, replaced by curiosity.

"My apologies, we didn't see you there." He gave you a polite bow of his head.

Niklaus stood, his eyes narrowed as he regarded you. "A woman, alone? There are wolves about, you know," he said with a grin.

You felt your cheeks warm at his comment, your eyes darting to the blood on his hands, and the dead hare in his grip.

You lifted your skirts and pulled a long blade from its sheath around your calf. "Not alone," you said, returning his grin.

Niklaus' eyes widened, and his brother let out a soft laugh.

"And now the wolves shall be the ones afraid," the dark-haired one said. "I am Elijah, and this is my brother Niklaus."

"Do you hail from one of the villages downstream?" You asked.

"We do, but our home is much further, on the coast," Elijah explained.

You nodded, then returned the blade to its sheath, and straightened. "What is your business so far from home?"

Elijah gave Klaus a pointed look, before turning back to you. "We are looking to trade, our home lacks some of the necessary supplies to prepare for winter."

"Well, this is a poor season for hunting," you said, pointing to the hare in Klaus' grip.

"Indeed," Elijah agreed, casting a glance at his brother. "Perhaps, if we are lucky, we will come across another."

You looked down at your basket, a thoughtful expression on your face. "My village is just over the hill," you pointed. "The elders may be willing to trade. If you have anything of value."

Elijah glanced at his brother. "Thank you, that would be most kind."

You gave him a small smile, and started down the path. Elijah fell into step beside you, and Niklaus trailed behind, scouting out other possible game.

"Have you lived in the village long?" He asked, glancing over at you.

"My whole life," you told him. "Though, my family came from the north when I was very young."

He nodded, taking in your features. "And are you married?"

"No," you said, a faint blush coming to your cheeks. "How about you?"

"Not yet, no," he told you, giving you a warm smile.

The path led up a steep slope, and after a few minutes, the three of you crested the hill. You could hear the sound of laughter, and children's voices. In the distance, the village spread out across the valley below, smoke curling into the sky from a dozen homes.

"You have a beautiful home," Elijah said, admiring the view.

"Thank you," you said, leading them down the path toward the village.

It wasn't long before someone spotted you, and several children came bounding up to you, asking a million questions.

"I'm sorry, but I must return to my home… but the longhouse is that way," you pointed to a larger building near the center of the village.

"We will find you again soon," Elijah told you, giving you a kind smile.

"I would like that," you admitted, feeling a spark of excitement.

Elijah bowed his head, and his brother waved, before the two of them continued on.

You watched them for a moment, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Though they were gone, a strange sense of lingering excitement remained, mixed with caution. Elijah had stirred something inside you, an interest that you weren't sure how to feel about.

With a shake of your head, you pushed those thoughts aside and continued on. Secretly hoping to see him again.

The longhouse was warm, and filled with the smell of food and the soft hum of conversation. Many people were gathered around, preparing dinner. Some greeted you, and a few even asked for some herbs for their meals.

You could see Niklaus and Elijah sitting with your father and other men. They had obviously introduced themselves, and your father seemed intrigued by them. The brothers sharing the unfortunate hare between them.

You placed the basket of herbs on the table before taking a seat near your mother. She gave you a small smile, her attention focused on her weaving. You listened to the conversations around you, trying not to be obvious as you watched the two newcomers.

"The dark haired one asked about you," your mother said quietly, her gaze never leaving her task. "He thinks you are quite pretty."

Your cheeks warmed, and you glanced over at the table, seeing Niklaus whispering to your father. Your eyes met Elijah's, and his cheeks reddened, quickly looking away from you.

She glanced over at you, her face unreadable. "I think you should invite him for a walk."

You stared at her, wide-eyed. She had never been so willing to let you be alone with a man. "Really?"

"Yes, you are about to meet your eighteenth winter, it is time you start looking for a husband."

Your stomach flipped, and your palms grew sweaty.

"Besides, all the boys from our village are not fit for you."

"I don't know if I'm ready," you muttered, thinking about being alone with a man.

"If it were left to your father, you would never be ready," she shook her head. "You are a beautiful, smart girl. Any man would be lucky to have you as their wife."

Your gaze moved back to Elijah. His handsome features glowing in the firelight. “Do you really think so?"

"Go invite him for a walk," she repeated, nudging you.

"Right now?" You asked, nervously glancing around.

"Before the sun sets would be the wise choice," she replied, returning her attention to her weaving.

You glanced over at the table, Niklaus had disappeared, leaving Elijah alone. Your father was deep in conversation with the other men, and the women were busy gossiping.

"Go," your mother nodded toward Elijah. "Don't worry about your father."

You swallowed, nodding slowly. You were nervous, but eager. You didn't want to let this chance pass.

You stood and walked over to the table, standing awkwardly beside Elijah. He looked up at you, surprised. "Hello, again," he said, his voice deep and smooth.

You could see your father glancing over at you, and you quickly sat down next to Elijah, avoiding his gaze.

"Are you enjoying your time in the village?" You asked.

Elijah gave a nod, and offered a warm smile. "Very much so. Your people are quite welcoming."

"That's good, I'm glad," you said, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve.

He leaned in a bit closer, his brow furrowed. "Are you well?"

You met his gaze, and nodded. "I am, but, I was wondering if maybe you would like to take a walk with me? If you're not busy that is," you added.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting over to your father. "I fear that would not be wise."

"He'll get over it," you whispered, giving him a small smile.

He considered it for a moment, then returned the smile. "A short walk then."

You stood, and waited for him to join you. As the two of you started for the door, you caught your father's eye, his gaze stern. You ignored him and left the longhouse.

Outside, the air was crisp, the fading sun casting an orange glow across the landscape. A light breeze rustled the trees, and birds chirped.

"You have a lovely village," Elijah said, breaking the silence. "Your people are very kind."

"We've been fortunate," you told him, glancing over at him.

"What are the winters like here?"

"Cold," you laughed. "The snow falls early and stays for many months."

"Our winters are the same," he said, watching as some children ran past.

You fell into silence once more, and after a few moments, your hand brushed his. An unexpected wave of desire rushed through you, and you quickly pulled your hand away, cheeks warming.

He let out an awkward little cough, his cheeks a light shade of pink. He looked so handsome in the soft evening light, the orange and purple hues making his dark eyes sparkle.

You led him to a trail that would take you to a field near a pond. It was a beautiful spot, and quiet, a place that you went to clear your head.

"Is there any particular reason you invited me for a walk?" He asked, looking over at you.

You blushed, looking down at your hands. "My mother seems to think I should find a husband," you explained.

He cleared his throat, and didn't say anything. But his hands were nervously twitching, and you could see his face redden further.

"I'm not suggesting anything," you quickly assured him.

"Of course," he replied, giving a stiff nod.

You stepped off the path, into a clearing, where a large weeping willow grew. You stopped near the tree, and turned to him.

He stepped a bit closer, and held out his hand. You placed your hand in his, and a wave of warmth rushed through you. His fingers closed around yours, and he gently tugged you closer.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you looked up into his dark eyes, noticing the way his breathing quickened. He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing along your jaw, sending a shiver down your spine.

"This is not the sort of walk that your mother had in mind, I am sure." He whispered, his face mere inches from yours.

"Perhaps not," you breathed.

You leaned closer, and he pressed his forehead to yours. Your eyes closed, and you let out a soft breath. The scent of leather, and earth, and pine washed over you, and your fingers tightened around his.

He closed the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss. His lips were soft and warm, and he tasted sweet, like the honeyed mead the village was fond of. Neither of you knew what you were doing, your lips uncoordinated and clumsy. But his touch was gentle, his hands trembling slightly as they found your waist.

Your hands moved up his arms, coming to rest on his chest. You could feel his heart pounding against your palms. The kiss ended all too soon, and you stared up at him, slightly breathless.

His cheeks were flushed, and his pupils blown wide. His mouth opened and closed a few times, then a shy smile broke across his lips.

"We should be getting back," he whispered.

You nodded, not trusting your voice.

He took your hand in his, and guided you back to the path. The walk was mostly silent, both of you still processing what had just happened. But the silence was not uncomfortable, the air between you had changed.

"May I visit you again?" He asked, his voice low and hesitant.

You smiled, and squeezed his hand. "Yes, I would like that."

"Would tomorrow afternoon suit you?"

You nodded, barely able to maintain eye contact, his handsome face giving you butterflies.

"Until tomorrow then," he lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles.

You blushed, and turned to continue on. But his hand tightened around yours, and he pulled you back into his arms, kissing you once more. This kiss was not as gentle as the first. This time it was deep, and passionate, and his hands moved up your back, holding you close.

When the kiss ended, both of you were breathless, and your face was hot. He smiled, and you laughed softly, feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

"Don't tell your father I did that," he whispered, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You giggled and pressed another kiss to his lips. "I won't."

With a reluctant sigh, he released you, and stepped back. You gave him a little wave, and headed back to your home, the warmth of his touch lingering.

It was late when you reached the house, your father was still out, and your mother was asleep. You climbed the ladder to the loft, and lay down, staring up at the ceiling, a silly grin on your face.

Your mother shifted, turning to face you, her eyes still closed. "What happened?" She whispered.

"Nothing, we just talked," you lied.

"Hmm," she murmured, turning onto her side, facing away from you. "He's quite handsome," she added, her voice barely audible.

"I think so," you agreed, closing your eyes.

It was a long time before you could sleep, your thoughts racing, remembering his scent, and the warmth of his hands. You were nervous, and excited. And for the first time in your life, you found yourself looking forward to the winter months.

The next few weeks passed quickly. Elijah came to visit as often as possible. Each day the two of you would steal a few moments together, sometimes walking, sometimes sitting in the forest and talking. But you always managed to find a moment to share a kiss, his touch leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

Elijah and Niklaus were invited to stay for the winter, the two of them joining the daily hunting parties, helping with the preparations for the coming season. In exchange, two men from your village would return to their home and spend the winter there. It was a beneficial agreement for all involved, and the brothers were welcome in the village.

Today, you and Elijah were gathering mushrooms in the forest. Your basket was full, and you sat on a rock, watching him search. He was crouched near the base of a tree, and looked over his shoulder at you, a playful glint in his eye.

"I'm afraid I'm not as fast at finding these as you," he teased.

"I know these forests better than anyone," you replied, standing and walking over to him.

"Do you now?"

You nodded, smiling as you knelt down beside him. You could smell the faint hint of wood smoke and herbs on him, and the scent made your stomach flip.

"And what other talents do you have?" He asked, his tone light, teasing. "Can you also predict the weather? Or tell the future?"

You gave him a playful shove, and he made a dramatic show of toppling over. He pulled you down on top of him, and the two of you rolled across the forest floor. Leaves and sticks tangled in your hair, and dirt stained your clothes. You didn't care, it felt good to be so close to him.

The laughter faded, and the mood changed. Your body pressed against his, his arms holding you tight. His breathing was quick, his gaze intense, making heat coil in the pit of your belly.

"I can tell the future," you whispered, leaning in to brush your lips against his.

He hummed, closing his eyes. "Oh?"

"Mmm," you nodded, kissing him. "I see one with you."

You felt his manhood stir against your thigh, and a jolt of excitement ran through you. His hand moved lower, coming to rest on your rear, and you gasped when he squeezed it. You wanted more, and you rocked your hips against his, earning a soft groan, his grip on you tightening.

"We should stop," he said, his words at odds with his actions.

"Do we have to?" You asked, nipping his lip.

"Unfortunately, yes," he replied, though his hands remained where they were. "If not, your father will likely kill me."

You pulled back a little, and sighed. "You're probably right."

You rolled off him, and lay on the ground beside him, looking up at the clouds. Your chest rising and falling rapidly.

He turned his head, looking over at you. His lips were pink and swollen, his eyes dark and full of uncertainty. "Did I upset you?"

You met his gaze, and shook your head. "No, I'm just..." you paused, trying to think of how to phrase it. "I'm not used to feeling this way."

"Neither am I," he admitted, rolling onto his side, facing you.

"How did it come to this?" You asked, shaking your head. "You've only been here a short time, and already, I cannot imagine my life without you."

He propped himself up on his elbow, reaching over to pluck a leaf from your hair. "I have no answers," he said. "But I know I cannot bear the thought of losing you."

You sat up, and leaned in to kiss him again. "Will you speak with my father? About us?"

"I will," he nodded, getting to his feet and helping you up. "But perhaps we should wait until after the solstice. The villagers are preparing for the festival, I do not wish to cause a distraction."

"All right," you agreed.

He took your hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "I'll see you at the festival?"

"Yes," you smiled. "Until then."

"Until then," he replied, stealing one more kiss before heading back toward the village.

You watched him leave, your heart pounding, and your body aching with a need you had never felt before. Imagining him as your husband, and all that would entail, had you blushing and giddy. Now you could only hope that your father would agree.

The days leading up to the solstice were busy, the entire village preparing for the festivities. A large bonfire was built, and tables were set up. The men and women prepared the food and drink, the children helped gather the firewood. Everyone was excited, and eager to celebrate the shortest day of the year, knowing that the days would only grow longer from there.

Elijah and Niklaus had brought back a rather large elk, which had been butchered, and spiced, and placed on a spit over the fire. The smell was delicious, and people were milling about, chatting and laughing. They were the talk of the village, the strangers who had come in and brought such a great bounty.

Your father had been quite impressed, and the two of them were welcomed among the men, even being allowed to take part in the ceremonies. It warmed your heart to see Elijah getting on so well with your family. You were certain that he could convince your father to let the two of you wed.

"There is my beautiful girl," your father said, walking over and placing an arm around your shoulders. "Your first winter as a woman. It seems like only yesterday, you were still playing with wooden dolls," he sighed, shaking his head.

"Not much has changed," you laughed, nodding toward a group of children, who were dancing and singing.

"True," he agreed, letting out a small sigh. "Soon enough, you will be a mother yourself. Time moves so quickly."

"You could have more," you teased, leaning into his embrace. "A sister would be nice."

He gave a little chuckle, and kissed the top of your head. "Perhaps. But I have the most wonderful daughter, how could any other compare?"

"Thank you, father," you smiled. "Do you really think I'm a woman now?"

"I do," he nodded, looking down at you. "In a few years, you'll be married, and raising a family of your own."

You glanced over at Elijah, and smiled.

"A few years?" You echoed, looking up at your father. "Why so long?"

He let out a sigh, and his brow furrowed. "Your mother and I wish to find the perfect match for you," he explained. "We want to ensure that the man is strong, and smart. A good hunter, and a capable leader. Not too young, not too old. And most importantly, a good man."

You looked back over at Elijah, watching as he spoke with a few men. You were certain that he was the one, but you knew it would be best to not mention him just yet.

"I understand," you replied, glancing up at your father. "I'll keep an eye out."

"Good," he said, giving your shoulders a squeeze. "Now, go dance with your friends, the gods are smiling down on us this night."

"I will," you told him, giving him a quick hug.

As the evening went on, the food was served, and the drinking continued. The bonfire was lit, and everyone began to dance.

Your friends grabbed your hand and pulled you into the circle. The flames danced in the wind, and the music echoed through the village square. Laughter and chatter filled the air, and everyone was happy and cheerful.

Elijah and Niklaus joined in, dancing and drinking. They were a bit clumsy, but they picked up the steps quickly. You felt a little shy, being so close to Elijah, knowing how your body had reacted the last time. But he seemed to be keeping his distance, not wanting to upset your father.

As the night wore on, the children began to drift off, and the adults grew more boisterous. People began pairing off, heading to the shadows, away from prying eyes. You caught Elijah's gaze, and your cheeks heated up, quickly looking away.

The music slowed, and you noticed your father and mother slip away, a knowing look in their eyes. You knew what they were up to, and you couldn't help but giggle.

"What is it?" Elijah asked, coming up behind you.

"They're going to sneak off and do...well, you know," you replied, cheeks burning. "Marriage things," you added, a little breathless.

He laughed, and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into a quick kiss.

You stared at him, shocked, then turned to glance around, but no one was paying any attention.

"You shouldn't have done that," you scolded him, glancing over your shoulder.

"Come, I have something to show you," he said, taking your hand and leading you toward the woods.

"Elijah," you whispered, glancing around nervously.

"It's fine," he assured you, squeezing your hand.

He led you away from the bonfire, toward the edge of the woods. There were still a few people wandering around, but none were paying the two of you any mind.

You followed him into the darkness, and after a few moments, the sounds of the village grew distant. He came to a stop near a large tree, and turned to face you.

"Wait here, close your eyes," he whispered, kissing the tip of your nose.

You did as he asked, closing your eyes, a nervous flutter in your stomach. He stepped away, and you could hear twigs snapping, and the smell of smoke reached your nostrils.

"Elijah?"

"Patience," he chuckled.

You heard the rustle of fabric, and then his warm breath tickled your cheek.

"Open your eyes," he whispered.

You opened your eyes, and let out a gasp. There was a blanket spread on the ground, surrounded by candles, the flames flickering and dancing.

"This is lovely," you breathed.

"I hoped you would like it," he said, leading you over to the blanket and helping you sit down.

"How did you do all this?" You asked, looking around at the candles.

"Niklaus," he explained, sitting beside you. "He thinks I should woo you properly."

"Oh?" You grinned. "Woo me, hmm?"

He blushed, his gaze moving down to the blanket.

You lifted his chin, and leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. He responded eagerly, deepening the kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his lap.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, and shifted to straddle his lap. Giggling softly as his hands moved to your rear.

You could see the glow of the fire through the trees, and hear the faint sounds of the celebration, but you were alone, and free to be together.

He broke the kiss, his dark eyes shining in the candlelight. "I want to make my intentions known," he whispered, brushing his nose against yours. "I wish to marry you, if you will have me."

"Yes," you breathed, nodding eagerly.

"You're certain?" He asked, his expression serious. "It is not too soon?"

"No, I want this," you said, smiling. "I love you."

"And I, you," he whispered, his hand moving up to cup your cheek.

"I wish we could get married tonight," you said, resting your forehead against his.

He hummed in agreement, his thumb stroking your cheek.

You closed your eyes, reveling in the moment. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," he replied, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

"Have you... Uhm..." you stammered, your face heating up. "That is, have you ever...you know...before?"

His cheeks flushed, and his hands fell to his sides. "No, I haven't," he confessed. "Although I would very much like to."

"Oh," you breathed, his words sending a rush of desire through you.

You could feel the bulge in his trousers, and the knowledge that he was aroused only fueled your own excitement. You rolled your hips, and a groan rumbled in his chest.

"Y/N," he said, his voice strained.

"Yes?"

"We should stop," he whispered, his hands gripping your waist.

"Should we?" You asked, rocking your hips again, delighting in the way his breath caught.

"I think so," he nodded, his gaze meeting yours.

You could see the conflict in his eyes, his desire for you warring with his sense of honor.

"I think we should stay," you whispered, leaning closer, brushing your lips against his. "Unless you're afraid of me, and my womanly wiles."

"Afraid?" He scoffed. "Hardly."

"Good," you smiled, kissing him.

His hands tightened around your waist, and he moaned into the kiss, deepening it. You could feel the tension in his body, his restraint wavering.

You pulled back, breathless, and looked into his eyes. You saw the desire there, and the love, and knew you were ready. You pulled on the strings in the front of your dress, and loosened the garment, slipping it off your shoulders and revealing your bare chest.

You wanted to etch the look on his face into your memory forever. The mixture of awe, admiration, and desire. He was trying not to just stare at your chest, his hands twitching at his sides, as if fighting the urge to touch.

You took one of his hands, and brought it to your breast, his palm warm and soft against your skin. His breath hitched, and his pupils dilated, his gaze moving from his hand to your face.

"You are so soft," he whispered, his thumb brushing against the sensitive peak.

You let out a quiet moan, your lips parting, your head falling back. He took advantage, and pressed kisses along your jaw, and down the column of your neck, his other hand sliding up to knead your other breast.

His lips moved lower, and he brushed his mouth against the swell of one of your breasts, and the sensation sent a thrill through you. You had never been touched like this, and you could feel the dampness growing between your thighs.

He took your nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak, and the feeling was indescribable. A rush of heat flooded your veins, the cold air suddenly forgotten. Your hands moved into his hair, your fingers tangling in the dark curls.

His other hand cupped the swell of your breast, his fingers plucking and teasing the peak, eliciting little gasps and moans from you. You had never felt such pleasure, the gods were surely smiling down upon the two of you.

"Elijah," you breathed, your hips moving against him, seeking friction.

He let go of your nipple with a wet pop, his gaze moving back to yours. His lips were pink, and swollen, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded. He was panting, his chest rising and falling, his hands moving down to rest on your hips.

"My dear," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "I would very much like to lay with you, if you are certain this is what you want."

You nodded, and kissed him, his hands moving up your back and pulling you close.

He lowered you onto the blanket, his body covering yours. His weight felt good, solid and comforting, and you let out a soft sigh. He kissed his way down your neck, pausing to press kisses to your shoulder and chest, pulling a giggle from you.

You reached down and tugged at his tunic, and he pulled back long enough to yank the garment over his head. Your hands moved over his torso, exploring the contours of his muscles, admiring his strength. He was beautiful, and you couldn't help but wonder what the rest of him would look like.

Your cheeks felt warm, your whole body thrumming with desire. Your gaze met his, and you saw a similar mix of lust and nervousness in his eyes.

"What now?" You asked, a little breathless.

He gave a soft chuckle, and leaned down to kiss you, his hands moving over your hips and thighs, pushing up the skirt of your dress. You gasped when his fingers brushed against the damp fabric of your small clothes.

"I've heard from the other men... that they have to... prepare the woman, first," he explained, a slight tremble in his voice.

"Oh," you breathed, a new wave of desire washing over you.

His fingers tugged at the string holding your undergarment on, and he slowly slid the garment down your legs, his eyes fixed on the newly exposed flesh.

"Elijah," you whispered, shifting beneath him.

He tossed your undergarment aside, and ran his hands up the insides of your thighs, gently pushing them apart. You bit your lip, feeling a little self-conscious, but when he leaned down and kissed the patch of curls, all thoughts fled from your mind.

You were certain that the gods had made you for each other. You felt his breath on the most sensitive part of you, and when his tongue brushed against it, a bolt of pleasure shot through you, and you tugged on his hair, trying to pull him closer.

He continued licking and sucking, the sounds making your face flush. He pushed your thighs up and open, exposing more of you to him.

You looked down, watching the way he tentatively tasted you, he was eager and curious, and his attentions were sending a steady rush of heat and pressure to your core.

He found the spot that made you whimper, and began sucking on it, drawing out the pleasure, making you moan and shake. He seemed encouraged by the sound, his movements becoming bolder, more sure.

The heat grew, the pleasure building, and you found yourself grinding against his face, chasing the sensation.

He let out a groan, and the vibration only added to the delicious torment. You felt like you were going to explode, the tension reaching its peak, and when he gently bit down on the sensitive nub, you came undone.

You arched off the ground, stars exploding behind your eyes. Your legs clamped around his head, trapping him in place, but he didn't seem to mind, continuing to lick and suck until the pleasure became too much.

You pulled on his hair, and he lifted his head, his mouth glistening in the firelight. You stared at him, panting and sweaty, wondering how it could have been so much better than the whispers had suggested.

He crawled up your body, his lips capturing yours in a deep, passionate kiss. You could taste yourself on him, the flavor heady and intoxicating. He smiled against your lips, and you reached between the two of you, tugging at the laces on his trousers.

"May I?" You asked, the tips of your fingers dipping beneath the waistband.

He nodded, a soft moan escaping him as your hand closed around his shaft. It was warm, hard, and velvety smooth. You stroked him, enjoying the way his face contorted with pleasure, his hips rocking into your touch.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes," he breathed. "Your touch is much different than my own."

"I should hope so," you chuckled. "Do you like it?"

"Yes," he groaned.

"Good," you smiled, your hand moving up and down his length, exploring what made him groan and move his hips.

"Enough," he panted, pulling away. "I do not wish to spill myself."

You chuckled and laid back, pulling him down on top of you. He tried to line himself up with your entrance, but he kept missing, his hand shaking. You let out a soft giggle, and took his shaft in your hand, guiding him into position.

"Like this," you whispered.

You felt him press against your entrance, the pressure unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. He leaned down and kissed you, his hips slowly thrusting forward, easing his length inside you.

The stretch burned a little, the feeling of fullness was overwhelming. You clung to him, his arms shaking, his breath hot against your skin. He was trying to be gentle, and you could tell it was taking all his self-control.

You ran a hand up his spine, feeling the tension in his body, the way his muscles quivered. You had never felt closer to anyone, the intimacy was almost too much, the emotion threatening to spill over.

"Are you all right?" He whispered, his gaze meeting yours. "Does it feel good?"

You nodded, "how about you?"

He chuckled, "better than anything I have ever felt."

You grinned, and lifted your hips, letting him know it was all right to move. He did, pulling out almost all the way, then easing back in. You could see the concentration on his face, his jaw clenched, his brows furrowed.

"More," you pleaded, wanting to feel him fully.

He complied, his pace increasing, the feeling of him moving inside you driving away the ache and leaving only pleasure.

"I'm afraid I will not last much longer," he breathed, his lips brushing against your cheek.

"It's all right," you assured him, reaching down in-between the two of you, feeling where you were connected.

It was wet, and warm; the coarse curls of his pelvis tickled your palm. You touched his shaft, stroking him as he thrust into you, and his hips bucked, a low moan escaping him.

"Y/N," he groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his hips snapping forward.

His body stiffened, and his breath caught, his shaft pulsing inside you, and you could feel the warm flood of his release. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, both of you panting and trembling.

He lifted his head, his dark eyes meeting yours, his cheeks flushed, a hint of a smile on his lips. You leaned up and kissed him, pouring all your love and happiness into it.

He pulled back, resting his forehead against yours.

"Are you all right?" He whispered.

"More than all right," you told him, running a hand through his hair. 

"As am I," he replied, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "We should get cleaned up and return to the celebration before we are missed."

"Or we could stay here," you suggested, smiling mischievously.

"Tempting," he chuckled. "But not wise."

"Fine," you sighed.

He pulled out of you, and you felt a twinge of loss, the cold air reminding you how wet and swollen you still were. He got up and fetched his tunic, cleaning you both up as best he could.

"There," he said, helping you up. "That should do until we can get a proper bath."

"I would very much like to bathe with you," you told him, grinning.

"As would I," he replied, handing you your dress.

You fixed your dress as he snuffed out the candles and collected them in the blanket, sneaking glances at each other, the blush still lingering on your cheeks. Once you were presentable, you took his hand, and followed him back to the celebration.

The sounds of the village grew louder, the voices and music carrying through the trees. He paused, and pulled you into a kiss, his hands resting on your waist. You melted into him, a familiar warmth spreading through you. He pulled away, looking down at you, his expression serious.

"I've known since the first time I saw you," he confessed, his cheeks turning pink. "That this is where I'm meant to be. That you are the one."

"Elijah," you whispered, tears burning in the back of your eyes. "I love you."

"And I love you," he smiled, kissing your forehead. "I will speak with your father tomorrow. There are wedding plans to be made."

"You will?" You squealed, throwing your arms around his neck.

"Of course," he chuckled, hugging you tightly.

He kissed you again, his lips moving slowly, savoring the moment. He reluctantly pulled away, taking your hand.

"Come, we must get back," he whispered, tugging you toward the village.

You followed him, the grin never leaving your face.

Your father would surely be surprised, but Elijah was a good man, a strong warrior, and would be a good husband. Your mother would be delighted, she had always liked Elijah. And, hopefully, that would convince your father to agree.

You couldn't wait to tell everyone the good news. You would finally have the wedding you always dreamed of.

The gods had been smiling down on the both of you, and tonight would be a night you would remember forever.

Snow had fallen in the early hours of the morning after the festival, and it continued for nearly a week. The wind howled, and the village was blanketed in white. It was a gloomy, dark and damp, the wind blowing fiercely, causing the shutters to bang against the wall.

A storm like this would keep everyone inside for at least a month. Fortunately your village was prepared, with plenty of stores and provisions, and the people were content to remain indoors, huddled near the fire.

You wished you were curled up next to Elijah throughout all this, the warmth of his body chasing away the chill in the air. Instead, you were trapped inside with your parents for nearly a month now, trying to keep the gloom at bay.

Your father had only left home once since the solstice, checking in on the villagers and making sure everyone was safe. He returned with good news, the livestock had survived the storm, and the storehouses were well stocked.

You helped your mother prepare food, and kept the hearth burning. The house was warm and cozy, but you couldn't stop the worry from creeping in. You hadn't been feeling well for weeks, food seemed to turn your stomach, and you'd grown irritable, snapping at your parents for no reason.

Your mother had taken notice, and was watching you closely, her eyes narrowing.

"Come sit," she called from her chair, the furs draped over her legs.

"I'm busy," you sighed, adding a few logs to the fire.

"Your father is seeing to the animals," she pointed out, a knowing look in her eye. "Sit," she said firmly, patting the empty seat next to her.

You let out a huff, and plopped down, crossing your arms.

"I can tell something is troubling you," she murmured, reaching out and stroking your hair.

"I just wish to see my friends," you said softly, picking at a loose thread on the cushion. "It's so dull and boring here."

"Ah, yes," she nodded. "And is there one particular friend you would like to see?"

"I suppose," you said, shrugging, feigning disinterest.

"I think there's a young man who is just as eager to see you," she smiled, reaching out and taking your hand. "Do you wish to speak of it?"

"No," you mumbled, not meeting her eye.

She was quiet for a moment, and then cleared her throat. "Are you in love?"

"Mother," you gasped, glancing toward the door, a nervous flutter in your belly.

"I was once a young girl, I know what it feels like," she smiled, squeezing your hand. "You should have seen me, I was hopeless, sighing and daydreaming. Your father had me under a spell," she grinned, a faraway look in her eyes.

"Really?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh yes," she giggled, her cheeks turning pink. "We... don't tell him I told you this...," she whispered, leaning in. "We would... sneak off and feast on the fruits… far before planting the tree," she giggled.

"Mother!" You exclaimed, your face flaming.

"I was very much in love," she said, patting your hand. "As are you, it seems."

"I...," you hesitated, the words getting stuck in your throat.

"Tell me, my child," she murmured, giving you a warm smile. "Do you wish to marry him?"

"I... Yes," you nodded, returning her smile. "I love him."

"And does he love you?"

"Yes, he does," you smiled.

Her hand moved to your stomach, and she rubbed slow circles. Her eyes met yours, a knowing look in them.

"Does he know?"

"Know what?" You asked, confused.

"My dear, you've been unwell," she explained. "Has it not occurred to you why?"

"No," you shook your head.

"Your body has changed, I noticed it the other morning when you were dressing. Your breasts are fuller, your waist is a little thicker. And," she stopped, and reached down, taking your hand and guiding it to your stomach. "Your belly is softer."

"I...uhm," you shook your head, panic welling up inside you.

"I'm not saying this to scare you," she soothed. "This is a good thing. The gods have blessed you."

"Oh," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes.

"When was the last time you bled?" She asked, tilting her head.

"I...don't know," you admitted. "A moon ago? Before the snow fell."

"Is that around the time you and Elijah were...feasting on the fruits?" She asked, lowering her voice.

You nodded, and felt the tears spill over.

"Don't be afraid," she cooed, gathering you into her arms."I'm not angry, I promise,"

"Father will be," you mumbled, tears spilling down your cheeks.

"Perhaps not," she replied, her voice gentle. "If Elijah is a good man, he will take care of you. You and the baby. And your father will come around."

"You really think so?"

"I do," she assured you. "I will speak with him."

"What if the baby isn't his?" You asked, chewing on your lip.

"You've been with no other men, have you?" She said, her tone growing stern, her eyes hard.

"No," you shook your head.

She paused for a moment then laughed, and squeezed your shoulders. "Then the child is Elijah's."

"But what if father doesn't believe it? What if-,"

"Hush," she said firmly. "It will be alright. Do not worry."

"Are you certain?"

"I am," she smiled, stroking your cheek.

"You're not angry with me?" You asked, feeling a little guilty.

"No, I'm not," she assured you. "But I would prefer the wedding take place sooner rather than later."

Your conversation was interrupted by the sounds of your father returning and more voices joining his.

"Come," your mother whispered, standing and reaching for your hand. "I'll make us some tea."

You nodded, and followed her to the table.

"Good afternoon, my loves," your father greeted you, stomping the snow off his boots.

Niklaus and Elijah followed behind, they had brought food and supplies, the two of them covered in a thick layer of snow.

"It's a good thing these two came along," your father commented, shaking his head. "I might have gotten lost out there."

"It is quite a blizzard," Niklaus chuckled, pulling his cloak off.

"These fine gentlemen are going to stay with us until the storm passes," your father said, glancing at your mother. "The snow has caved in the roof of their hut."

"Well," your mother clapped her hands. "That settles it. Let me get a hot meal on the table."

You watched Elijah as he pulled off his cloak, the fur falling away, revealing his strong arms and shoulders. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and quickly averted your eyes.

"Sweetie, will you show them where the linens are kept? We'll need to make up the beds."

"Of course," you murmured, standing and crossing the room.

"Here," Elijah said, reaching into his pack and pulling out a bundle. "We brought extra furs," he smiled.

"Thank you," you murmured, feeling his gaze on you.

Niklaus helped your father with the firewood and Elijah followed you to the backroom, helping you pull the linens out.

As soon as you were out of sight from the others, he pulled you into his arms, his lips finding yours.

"I've missed you," he breathed, his lips brushing over your skin.

You pressed your finger to his lips, shushing him. He smiled, his teeth nibbling on the digit. You blushed, and pulled your hand away, taking his hand and placing it on your stomach. His brow furrowed, and he looked down.

"I have a surprise," you whispered, biting your lip.

"A surprise?" He grinned, his hand sliding around to your back, pressing you closer.

"Our baby," you breathed, looking up at him, your heart thudding in your chest.

His eyes widened, and he shook his head.

"Are you certain?"

You nodded, and felt the tears begin to spill down your cheeks. You weren't sure if it was relief, or happiness, or fear, but it all came crashing down.

He wiped the tears from your cheeks, a wide smile on his face.

"Don't cry," he soothed, kissing your forehead. "I will take care of you."

"But my father," you sniffled.

He smiled and took your hand, leading you back into the main room. Your father was sitting at the table, while Niklaus stoked the fire and your mother was cooking, their voices filling the room.

She looked at you, and smiled softly. Your father glanced over, and his eyes narrowed at the sight of your hand in Elijah's.

"What's this?" He asked, his voice stern.

"Sir," Elijah started, swallowing nervously. "I know that we have not known each other long, but I have come to care deeply for your daughter. I would like to ask your permission to take her as my wife."

The silence that followed was deafening. Niklaus froze, and slowly stood, watching the scene unfold. The expression on your father's face was completely unreadable, his eyes focused on the two of you.

"Do you know what you're asking me, boy?"

"Yes, sir," he nodded. "I love her, and I will care for her."

Your father leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms. His gaze went to Niklaus, who was still standing frozen by the hearth, a deer in the torchlight.

"Is your brother a good man?"

"He is, sir," Niklaus answered, his voice strained.

"Can he provide for her, can he protect her? Can he protect his children?"

"Yes, sir," he nodded.

Your father turned back to Elijah, his eyes narrowing.

"What do you intend to do when the snows have cleared, and the ground thaws?"

"I have found a piece of land not far from here," he explained. "With a river nearby, and plenty of forest. It's close enough to the village that it will not be difficult to travel."

"I see," your father murmured, glancing over at you.

You stared back at him, and tried not to let the hope show on your face.

"My child," he said, his voice soft. "Is this what you want?"

"It is," you nodded.

"I see," he said again, sighing softly. "The gods have spoken. It seems there will be a wedding."

"Sir?" Elijah asked, his voice wavering.

"I'm giving you my blessing," your father smiled.

You let out a happy sob, and threw your arms around Elijah's neck. He lifted you off the floor, his lips finding yours in a joyful kiss. You were dimly aware of the cheering coming from your parents and Niklaus, and you clung to him, the tears spilling down your cheeks.

You could have kissed him forever, but your mother cleared her throat, and you reluctantly pulled away.

 "Come, dinner is ready.” she said, smiling.

Elijah set you down, and gave your hand a squeeze. He led you to the table, and pulled out a chair for you. Niklaus and your parents joined you, and soon the sounds of eating and talking filled the room.

Your mother poured the tea, and you glanced up at Elijah, watching as he ate, his face flushed, his eyes shining. He met your gaze and smiled, a warmth spreading through you.

"Father... I have something else to tell you," you murmured, taking a sip of tea.

"Yes?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You will have a grandchild soon," you whispered, biting your lip.

This time, the silence that followed wasn't deafening, but absolutely terrifying. The expression on your fathers face went from happy to complete shock. Niklaus choked, and began coughing violently, but you suspected he wasn't choking, but simply trying to cover up his laughter. 

Your father's gaze went from you, then to Elijah, who had the good sense to look abashed, before finally settling on your mother, who simply shrugged, and continued to eat.

"So," he finally sighed, rubbing his face. "The wedding should be sooner rather than later."

"Yes, father," you nodded, your voice shaking.

He glanced at you, and reached over, taking your hand.

"You're sure?"

"I am." 

You watched his face, and were relieved to see his eyes fill with joy.

"Well," he grinned. "It seems I'm getting an early wedding gift."

"Really?" You squeaked, not quite believing what you were hearing.

"Yes," he laughed. "My little girl is having a baby. What better reason is there to celebrate?”

"Father," you cried, standing and hugging him.

He embraced you, and you could feel the tension melting away.

"The gods are truly smiling down on us," he chuckled, squeezing you tightly.

"They are," you agreed, giving him a watery smile.

"To new beginnings," your mother declared, raising her glass.

"To new beginnings," everyone echoed, and the conversation flowed, wedding plans being made.

As you listened to the conversations going on around you, and felt the warmth of the fire on your skin, and the heat of Elijah's hand resting on your knee, you couldn't help but feel that everything was going to be okay. You couldn't have asked for a better man to spend your life with.

The winter storm would pass, the snow would melt, and the sun would shine down on the village once more.

Spring was just around the corner.

[lorynna]

Blackpillers will do anything to twist your arguments, often resorting to semantics or bad faith interpretations to derail the conversation. But the core point behind the statement "Blackpill 'feminists' don't hate the system. They just hate that it didn't pick them" is actually pretty simple: these women are not interested in dismantling oppressive systems; they are angry that they aren't the beneficiaries of them.

Unlike radical feminism, which seeks to abolish the patriarchy and hierarchical structures of domination, blackpill feminism is reactionary. It does not aim for liberation, but for reversal instead. In a hypothetical world where the patriarchy had positioned women as the dominators and men as the subjugated, these same women would likely not oppose the system.

They would justify their power with the same essentialist logic they now claim victimhood from. Their issue is not with oppression itself, but with not being on the winning side of it.

This is what makes blackpill feminism ideologically adjacent to male inceldom. Both ideologies stem from wounded entitlement: Not necessarily sexual entitlement like in the case of incels, but the entitlement to matter within the system built on domination, hierarchy and control. And when that system doesn’t reward them, both groups collapse into rage and nihilism instead of choosing to reject the system's values altogether.

Blackpillers don’t question the structure that created those expectations. Instead, they double down on it, demanding that it finally favor them. This is not liberation, it’s a desire for power under the same oppressive logic. They do not seek to burn the system down, only to be its new rulers.

In that way, blackpill feminism is not feminism at all. It is a mirror image of patriarchy, with the same values, domination, desirability, hierarchy, but with the genders swapped.

post might be edited for better understanding in the future, if I see that certain points are confusing / badly expressed

[moistvonlipwig]

one of the fundamental tensions in btvs between what the narrative requires in order to thematically cohere & what makes actual sense for the characters to do that the show never quite figures out how to resolve is the question of buffy getting paid for slaying vampires. obviously, for buffy's status as a slayer to work at all as a metaphor for the way patriarchy exploits women, buffy cannot be paid in any capacity, whether by the council, individual people she's saved, or by the town of sunnydale. the show literally would not work if people paid her for slaying vampires.

however, within the universe of the show, no satisfying explanation is ever given by any character for why buffy couldn't be paid. obviously the watchers' council has no incentive in the early seasons to pay her, but in "checkpoint" buffy has the council at swordpoint; she (or anya, her most sensible friend) could easily ask for payment, and in fact she does ask for payment for giles, which he in his infinite generosity happily accepts without ever bringing up the possibility that buffy herself should be compensated as well. anya later suggests that buffy accept payment in "flooded" and buffy shoots this idea down because.....uh.....spider-man doesn't get paid?? idk, she really does not give an actual reason why this idea is so ridiculous, it's just taken as a given that it's a ridiculous idea even though cordelia talked angel into accepting payment for saving people two years ago over on ats. and then of course there is the infamous matter of willow and (more briefly) tara living rent-free in buffy's house and going to college (while willow has parents in town who are proud and happy that she is gay and would presumably have no problem letting her live with them) while demanding that she get a job to pay the bills.

all of these instances make buffy look incredibly naive and foolish, while her friends (sans anya the Wacky Capitalist and spike the Amoral Demon) come off as either equally foolish and/or profoundly selfish and callous. so it is natural for viewers to respond to the show by asking why the characters didn't do XYZ to get buffy's bills paid. but of course, if buffy's bills could be paid by slaying, the show would collapse in on itself. it would be a much worse story if any of the fixes people suggest had been implemented. hence the tension described above: for the logic of the metaphor underpinning the entire show to hold up, the logic of the characters' actual actions must fail.

[tellurian-in-aristasia]

A am a bit of a messy archiver, and have some copy & pasted Aristasian writings that I have simply forgot to include the source of! This particular piece, on the History of Aristasia, is labeled in my file as being from January 2005, so it is most likely a Heartbook conversation. I don't believe it has any particularly new information, and what information it does has, is quite obviously twisted around a bit, but it is interesting nonetheless. This is a forum response from Miss Annalinde herself, to a pette curious about the history of Aristasia and where Filianism (although it is not named as such) fits within it. When I find the archived source, I will edit with the link. Edit: I quickly found the link, it is from the archive of the Aristasian Spirituality Yahoo Group.

Dear Carola,

Forgive the delay in replying. Our ordinator network has been experiencing problems for the last few days.

So many questions are raised by all this!

First let us consider Aristasian religion. To do this we have to understand something of how Aristasia-in-Telluria has developed.

It began in the 1970s and it is often said that the impetus came from the realisation that the cultural collapse of the 1960s (which came to be called the Eclipse) was not a temporary social aberration but was at least semi-permanent. A society was being created based on utterly false principles - moral, aesthetic and spiritual. The Western world had long been guided by false philosophies, and moral (that is to say, not ordinary immorality which exists at all times, but a denial or inversion of morality) and aesthetic corruption had affected sections of the intelligentsia since early in the 20th century, but in the 1960s it began to affect the lives of the entire population, creating a radically false, inverted or Tamasic society.

This necessitated secession: the creation of a society - or societies - that separated themselves from the all-pervasive corruption of the society created by the Eclipse (which came to be called the Pit). The society of earlier decades of the 20th century was used as a model, not from a desire to “live in the past”, but from a belief that - to use a small parable - when one becomes lost in a forest one should retrace one’s steps to the point at which one became lost and continue on from there.

This could have been done in various ways. There could have been a mixed group of men and women. A few such groups have been attempted, but never with much success. Aristasia has always been favourable to such attempts while not wishing to abandon the integrity of Aristasia itself.

Aristasia was all-female for two reasons. First that men (governed by the planet Mars) tend toward discord and find it very hard to organise when there is no forcible centre of authority. Male groupings tend to be dogged by arguments, splits and schisms.

The second reason was simply that the founders wanted an all-female group. Having been deprived by the Eclipse of a legitimate social order, they felt free to create their own order in the form they preferred. And they preferred an all-feminine world. As do we.

Some would also put forward a third reason. They would suggest that as patriarchy reaches its apogee, attempting to suppress femininity even in women themselves, a counter-movement, a feminine collegia is a necessary corrective. Many early Aristasians went even further and argued that they were helping to embody a re-entry of the feminine spiritual principle into the hyper-patriarchal and spiritually moribund Western world.

There have been various approaches to religion and spirituality in Aristasia, from those who really took little interest in the subject to those who, particularly in the 70s and 80s of the last century, developed a very comprehensive religious practice and thealogy. You have mentioned the Collyridians, who are named from their practice of offering cakes or bread to Our Lady - a practice clearly similar to that of the Hebrew women at the time of Jeremiah who offered honey-cakes to the Queen of Heaven, and of course of the practice of offering prasada to Sri Lakshmi or other Hindu forms of Our Lady.

For many Aristasians, the offering of honey cakes became a central act of worship and even developed a liturgical form. Some even developed a Mythos of the Mother and Daughter with a highly developed thealogy. At the time there were a number of Aristasians and quasi-Aristasians about the Aristasian District and University of Milchford, and a few other centres, and this culta gained considerable impetus. After a time, it was called into question on the grounds that, in Telluria, it was not founded on any legitimate tradition. Its followers held that it was inspired and was a legitimate re-emergence of a matriarchal faith for our times.

This is the point, in masculine organisations, where splits and schisms tend to take place. Aristasia dealt with it rather differently, and in its own whimsical way. Those who adhered to the full religion of the Mother and Daughter continued to do so. Those who did not regarded it as something from Aristasia Pura that was not appropriate for Aristasia-in-Telluria. The two “factions” lived in peace. The thirteen-month Calendar of the Mother and Daughter religion is regarded as the Old Aristasian Calendar.

This is all a bit of a rationalistic way of putting it, and understates the extent to which Aristasia Pura is a reality to us. But that is a matter for another occasion.

Over the following decades things have settled. The full religion seems no longer to be practiced. Everyone is agreed that God is our Mother, whether she is a “spiritual person” or not. The seven Planetary Principles or Janyati are universally accepted by Aristasians as something very close to the original feminine statement of that part of the Western tradition as well as something fully Aristasian.

The continuing development of Aristasian devotion is a vital matter. Most would agree that Aristasian Religion in its fullest form went a little too far in creating a “tradition”. Most would also agree that it did a lot of very good philosophical and theological work to which we are indebted. What precisely will be the next steps in development we are not yet sure. That is why this group takes as its premise a very simple bhakti devotion to the Mother upon which everyone can wholeheartedly agree.

But it does not have to stop there. Aristasia has always been open to different approaches and perspectives. For such a young movement, we have a rich history of spiritual, philosophical and devotional development.

The great danger of “new religious movements” in the West is that they will base themselves upon, or at least be influenced by the philosophical errors of the Rajasic era, and now of the Tamasic. The various modernistic cults of the New Age Movement are perfect examples what happens under such influences. With such a book as The Feminine Universe in our hands we should certainly be able to avoid these errors.

Claims of a continuing tradition are, in our view rather dubious. What sort of a tradition in any case? An initiatic one with a chain of initiation going back to - to what? So many questions are raised without satisfactory answers.

What has happened, we feel, is that the Archetypes of the Worship of the Mother are abiding realities and so manifest themselves whenever the “ground” is ready for them. The Collyridians may have had a direct chain of tradition going back to the Hebrew women of Jeremiah’s time, or there may be a form of worship that, like a living thing, is always there, ready to break through when the “concrete” of patriarchy cracks a little.

I should be very interested to hear your views on this matter, as also those of Miss Marianne Trent. And, of course, the rest of the group!

May Our Lady bless you,

Annalinde

[tides-of-truth]

Part 2/2 of—

If you have tasted some real peace- it is a duty to care & work for the restoration & return of peace to all on Earth

Being is Sat-Cit-Ananda, therefore, the will for the creation is evolution of the expression & narrative of Consciousness towards increasing wholeness, bliss, peace & joy for everyone.

There is ultimate Truth & the Laws of Truth, through which Nature & world is regulated, so that ultimate Truth is reflected in Nature & world, as beauty, the good, the just etc. so that happiness, wellbeing & peace is the result for all living, breathing creatures.

If Nature— our primary environment, MOTHER, is engaged & exchanged with according to the laws of Nature-balance, is maintained - & there is then a place for all within the holy circle of MOTHER. The exchanges of energy flows are then relational by Nature, & reciprocity operates lawfully & naturally for all to partake in.

The moment someone takes or gets more, than lawfully needed, others must necessarily be denied. Accumulation of personal wealth is not of the Nature, of the primordial, Ancient & Natural, MOTHER, communal culture, that is the true template (temple) for regulation of energy flows (Shakti) on this Earth. This is holy MOTHER economics— based on energetic flows, through Nature, Earth & Living human bodies— in a vast interconnected circle & ecological balancing.

Patriarchy is a system that rose as the human mind became ever more separated from Nature- primary environment & the MOTHER, that is the nourisher. As the human mind became more collapsed & closed off & possessed of itself- it also feared for its survival— it had to tame & control MOTHER & Nature, by subduing the feminine wild Nature, of energy & forces of Nature, unpredictability, spontaneity & seasonality.

[johnhmcintosh]

THE GREAT SHIFT - UPDATE -12-12-23

JOHN MCINTOSH

As the intensity of the Great SHIFT into an era of Peace and Light expands, enormous ‘stress’ has filled the lives of most of humanity. This can be witnessed by the equally expanded ‘dysfunction’ of what most would call ‘normal’, and a feeling for many of ‘losing their minds’. This is to be expected when an era [the recent patriarchy] collapses and a NEW one emerges from the ashes. However, this is a huge blessing for humanity.

REMEMBER … we are speaking about a Grand Dream that most call ‘reality’. Nevertheless, NONE of it ‘is’ real. However, the concept that the day-to-day experience is a dream - no different than a night-time dream but with a kind of continuity, is very difficult for most to accept. Nonetheless, that is precisely what is unfolding for those still imprisoned in the mind – [most of humanity].

While the mind may rebel at some of what follows, here are a few things that ARE currently happening as the old dream winds down and a ‘Happy Dream��� expands:

-massive ‘empirical evidence’ proliferates that the death-jab [a bio-weapon designed to reduce the world population by the Deep State [DS] One-World-Order elites], has eliminated tens of millions and injured billions worldwide,

-fiat currency [money created out of thin air for the last 100 years by the Fed (not Federal but DS)] has been almost entirely replaced by ‘asset-backed’ currency, thereby destroying the foundational infrastructure of the DS. This can be recognized by the massive bank failures that have and are still occurring around the world. This is due (in part) to non-compliance with such NEW global financial requirements such as Basel 3,

-Direct Energy Weapons have recently been used across the planet to destroy entire towns [example – West Maui], as part of the last-ditch attempt to bring down the world-Alliance that is dismantling the DS,

-the massive ongoing arrests of pedophile pockets that blanket the planet and the destruction of thousands of miles of underground tunnels that have processed millions of children a year for decades in this regard … are beginning to hit the corrupt mainstream media [MSM] and trickle down to the ‘shocked’ sleeping masses. These arrests include many high profile names in the entertainment industry and in high political positions,

-A complete ramp-up of the global financial systems through the Quantum Financial System [QFS] and a Global Financial Reset to gold back currencies … is unfolding at this moment. This is accompanied by Nesara/Gesara, which is [currently in the background] revolutionizing the playing field so that ‘everyone’ will enjoy life with ALL the basics provided for and opportunities that have not been imagined becoming available for everyone to live life Abundantly,

-the roll-out of unbelievable medical technologies such as MED BEDS that will ‘completely eliminate’ the manipulative Big Pharma/Medical Establishment stranglehold on health care … is imminent,

-this extraordinary SHIFT in the way the world will function in Peace and Light has been agreed upon by 209 countries [the entire world] as is ‘so-far partially evidenced’ by the massive expansion of the BRICS membership. Much more evidence will become obvious to ALL in the coming months … which will completely ‘expose’ the day-today lies of the MSM,

Losing one’s mind is absolutely necessary for genuine FREEDOM to come upon each one who is now imprisoned in the belief of limitation. It is the mind that generates the ‘illusion’ that most call reality. The mind itself is the outcome of thought, which in turn emanates from the primal belief in separation … the first illusion [what some call the ‘fall of man’ (consciousness)]. This will be replaced by Heart-centered ‘thinking’.

At this turning [The Great SHIFT] of an era, as is now occurring, the belief systems that have dominated [mostly patriarchal in this ending era], are rapidly collapsing as the NEW emerges. This current EXPANDING era is a period of relative ‘balance’ … what the mind would/will call ‘peace’. Be assured that no matter how the world APPEARS at the moment, humanity is fast approaching the most glorious phase it has experienced in thousands of years … [still a dream – but a very Happy Dream].

-image by Solveig Larsen

SELF DISCOVERY books by John McIntosh https://www.johnmcintosh.info/copy-of-books

[denimbex1986]

'I must admit, I did not take the cultural impact of Barbenheimer seriously until I was sitting in the movie theater waiting for “Oppenheimer” to begin. During the previews, a gaggle of bedazzled individuals wearing assorted shades of pink cosplaying Barbie dolls, about ten in all, shuffled into their seats. In the brief interlude between the previews and the movie, that sacred pause when the audience readied itself for a cinematic journey, one of the pink people whispered loudly in a faux-ditzy voice, “O-M-G guys, are we in the right theater?” Rather than a stern hush, the theater reacted with a collective chuckle, echoing into the first scenes of “Oppenheimer.”

It was nice to see a group of strangers — calloused by pandemic isolation, political dysfunction, imminent climate collapse, and all the other things that make living hard — softened by an inside joke made possible by the holy trinity of nukes, dolls, and social media. But it was also incredibly crass given that we were all about to watch a three-hour-long epic about the person who created the atom bomb: a very real weapon that destroyed, and continues to destroy, very real lives. This was the moment I realized why Barbenheimer is so captivating: the emotional discord perfectly encapsulates, for better or worse, a world under the influence of the internet.

Surprising Similarities

Unless you live off the grid, it has been impossible to avoid Barbenheimer, shorthand for this summer’s two blockbuster movies, “Barbie” (directed by the effervescent and sharp Greta Gerwig) and “Oppenheimer” (directed by the rigorous and moody Christopher Nolan), which shared an opening weekend in theaters last month. Since it was unveiled that these two films would debut simultaneously, people on the internet did what they do best: spawn memes that point to their diametrically opposed subjects, aesthetics, and overall vibes — many of which poke fun at obvious gendered tropes — until the two movies became an inseparable pair.

Both films would have done well in their own right, but as an odd summer couple, they broke box office expectations. After almost a month in theaters, “Barbie” has reached over a billion dollars at the global box office, making history for women directors too, with Gerwig now becoming the highest-grossing female director in Hollywood. Oppenheimer, with over $600 million, is now the highest-grossing World War II movie of all time.

Since their release, the internet has been subjected to a torrential downpour of think-pieces about these films (pardon the addition of this one), debating which is better or which should be seen first in a double feature. A few days before the premiere, the Nuclear Threat Initiative recommended an Oppenheimer-first, Barbie-second viewing sequence. But what is most fascinating about the Barbenheimer phenomenon is the surprising similarities between the two films.

Both are artistic interpretations of uniquely American products: the Barbie doll and the atom bomb. Both feature controversial, and arguably misunderstood, protagonists. Both pull from comprehensive source material. “Barbie” mines the deep intellectual property vaults of Mattel, and “Oppenheimer” takes heavily from the voluminous pages of J. Robert Oppenheimer’s biography, “American Prometheus.” Both reveal an essense of patriarchy, “Oppenheimer” with the gaping absence of women who contributed to the Manhattan Project (i.e., the Calutron girls), and “Barbie” with Ken’s self-journey into realizing his worth beyond being Barbie’s accessory.

Most strikingly, both films exercise a certain degree of artistic license — both present a slightly romanticized portrait of serious issues. The Barbie monologue, brilliantly performed by the actress America Ferrera and lauded by critics as a tear-jerker, was indeed an emotional scene to watch, but the brand of feminism it invokes is not any more illuminating nor helpful than the 2017 pussyhat. After watching “Oppenheimer” (which, for the record, I believe to be a masterpiece despite its chosen historical framing), I found General Leslie Groves’s likability unsettling in part because the character is played by a handsome and charismatic Matt Damon. The real-life Groves intentionally kept the deadly effects of radiation secret.

Watching “Oppenheimer” and “Barbie” as a set, no matter in which order, is like staring at an optical illusion: pay too much attention to the contrasts, and you will miss how they are alike. Namely, both movies successfully shape grand, monolithic institutions — Barbieland and the Manhattan Project — into alluring and approachable worlds. Time will tell whether these achievements in cinematic world-building will also shape the real world in meaningful ways. Will “Barbie” elevate conversations around gender and feminism, or will its popularity only expand Mattel’s corporate purse? Will “Oppenheimer” rekindle concerns around nuclear weapons, or will it merely rack up Oscars as this year’s prestige film? Putting the meme aside, both films are beautiful works of art that are well-positioned to be impactful cultural artifacts of our time.

Of course, there are those who understandably find Barbenheimer offensive. In fact, many people in Japan take issue with Barbie-inspired GIFs flippantly referencing nuclear destruction. The Warner Bros. office in Japan issued an apology earlier this month after the official Barbie (distributed by Warner Bros.) social media account made a distasteful PR move by retweeting Barbenheimer fan art. But not all who participated in Barbenheimer are inherently awful. Rather, they all unwittingly highlight the universal naivete around the horror of nuclear weapons.

A Fitting Match Indeed

After decades of seeing nuclear weapons and radioactive mushroom clouds as Hollywood props in all kinds of movies — spy, dystopian sci-fi, superhero, romance — it is not surprising that people identified nuclear weapons closer to a toy than historical trauma. In a way, Barbenheimer is a candid slice of life processed through the internet, an apparatus that seamlessly layers the beautiful, the funny, the shameful, the terrifying. Every day, the internet subjects us to a chaotic mish-mash of information and imagery: a riverboat brawl; instructions on how to make goat curry; a fundraiser for Maui; a drone attack; a random but extremely good dancing video. Like it or not, this is how we take in the world, and in it, “Barbie” and “Oppenheimer” are quite a fitting match.

I tried to imagine what it could have been if both movies did not collide at the box office. Perhaps there is a strand of the multiverse out there where “Oppenheimer” got the full limelight, and perhaps movie-goers would have deeper respect for the subject, and engage in more serious conversations about it. But the people in this dialogue would be a certain kind of crowd, perhaps an older and more affluent demographic, the types who love to fall for Oscar-bait films. In that universe, the young, glittery pink people wouldn’t be sitting in the “Oppenheimer” theater. And they wouldn’t come out of that theater, looking a bit dazed, whispering to each other, “That was too long of a movie, but damn…I didn’t know.”

I don’t think this is the better ending.'

[ofthenoseclan]

juri arisugawa.

character: juri i love you sweetheart i wish you best of luck escaping the cycle of patriarchy.... youre absolutely one of my favourite characters in utena. youre in the top three honey. with anthy and nanami side by side. i absolutely love the decision to devote a full character to the quadrant of patriarchal influence that is internalized homophobia. juris method of bottling her emotions until she breaks and lashes out is so tragic and so compelling. every time i rewatch the series i am looking forward to when the episodes focusing on her show up each arc

design: EVERYONE knows this hairdo. this is the toxic femme whos never seen without dark red lipstick on and refuses to admit shes got addiction problems. the way her bright orange colour-coding contrasts with shioris desaturated plum completes the dynamic so well AND the way rukas rich dark blue colour is the polar opposite to hers showcasing the animosity between the pair?? mwah. also i like the little pocketwatch string she has on her pocket to fully sell that sense of regal “i swear to god im better than you. i need to be”

ship: do i even need to say it. juriori unquestionably. toxic yuri stays winning. theyre horrible. theyre perfect for each other. they make each other worse actively. if they just fucking said anything honest to one another their issues would be fixed but they NEVER DO. AUGHHHG

fave moment: the episode 29 duel climax is one of if not my favourite moment in the tv series. the shot where utena breaks juris locket instead of the rose, and everything juri has been fighting for with all her heart just collapses in on itself symbolically,, and she throws her rose on the floor herself, looking up into the rain grappling with her sudden but inevitable ego-death. i fucking adore it . so much . SO much you dont understanddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd

wanted to see more of: this is a weird thing to wish for because i know that adding it would make the movie worse in a lot of aspects, but i wish adolescence juri got more screen time. she at least got more focus than miki though to be fair. you gotta give her that

[warningsine]

your top 5 orphan black scenes

Oh, this is tough. There are plenty of moments that resonated.

Let's see:

Rachel taking her Neolution eye out with her broken martini glass

"Who hurt you?" "All of them."

5.07, Rachel's emancipation, is one of my favorite episodes of the entire series and its last ten minutes amongst the most powerful the show has ever produced.

Why is this my choice? Because it drives the feminist allegory home and is not at all subtle about it.

Rachel is the kind of person who belongs to a minority and a part of her acknowledges it, yet she has enough privileges that make her think that she can be taken seriously, be treated as a true equal.

In 5.07 her distorted vision is deconstructed little by little until it is wrecked in one punch. We see how she's been manipulated, prodded and controlled since she was a child. In the present, they have her go through a gynecological exam she doesn't know about and then she sees that in her medical record she is referred to as her ID tag.

Property Rachel. Clone Rachel. Female Rachel.

It's very naive to believe that if you are part of a clone conspiracy (read: an oppressed group, a woman), the oppressors (read: the patriarchy) will ever see you as anything different than what puts you under their power and control.

It's such a gut punch to see her realize that her bionic eye is a spy camera. P.T. (the ultimate symbol of patriarchy on the show) having her under his constant surveillance; having access to her every moment, her intimacy (the creep knew how and where she masturbated ffs), her body. Not only she isn't free, but she's always been twice as controlled as the rest of her sisters.

Her bonding with Kira can be seen as a "Rachel was envious of Sarah for having a child and she wants Kira as her own" except a few episodes later they very cleverly had Rachel ask, "Is this what it is like to be a parent?" She was basically like, "Pass."

What she really wanted wasn't a child, after all, it was the choice to do with her body however she pleases.

Meanwhile, she sees Kira as herself: a little girl taken from her family, trapped inside a corporation, treated as a lab rat.

"Why don't you run?" "Where would I go?"

You see her on the verge of a nervous breakdown, she's about to collapse while putting her plan into motion (even the excessive drinking was purposeful so that she could endure the pain of extracting her own eye) and claiming her freedom for the first time ever.

I love how gory the scene is and how the episode blacks out with the image of Rachel screaming in agony.

The moment the "pro-clone" (read: the complicit/anti-feminist woman) sacrifices a part of her own body, you know that Neolution is over.

(I know that this is technically cheating, but the following two scenes are an extension of Rachel's so add them to the pile:

a) Helena jaming the scissors into her own wrist in 5.09 to protect her unborn children from being turned into experiments--after being told she's a monster that could not take care of them.

b) When Sarah surrenders in 2.10 and is subjected to cold, dehumanizing questions.

)

2. Kendall Malone's death scene

Her existence is what made all the clones possible and her death symbolically and literally severs the scientific root of the lineages (a cure). When Evie orders her execution, it's not just violence. It's a calculated eugenic erasure and that makes it chilling.

And Tatiana Maslany, of course, gives a staggering performance. Cosima's breakdown is heartbreaking. She's not just mourning Delphine and Kendall, she’s mourning the collapse of hope itself.

Cosima along with Beth's flashbacks leading to her suicide

had me crying like a baby.

3. Sarah being haunted by Beth and considering suicide herself

The entire episode (4.07) with Sarah on the edge, both figuratively and literally, was made in a lab (um, haha) for me.

Sarah

facing the deepest parts of herself, her trauma and survivor's guilt (Beth's ghost is the manifestation of it).

contemplating whether she can continue, overwhelmed by the burden of protecting her sisters and fighting the larger forces trying to control their lives.

The bridge is the culmination of the emotional chasm she is facing. (Meanwhile, Cosima was having her own heart-wrenching moment.)

But, at its core, the scene is about the resilience of the human spirit.

I find it hard to believe that anyone that has grappled with loss, grief and the fear of failure would not find this scene touching.

Sarah chooses not to jump; she chooses to fight not just for her survival, but for her identity and family, and ultimately, for her humanity.

4. Siobhan's death in 4.08

When I tell you, I could not stop 😭. Outside of the clones, she was my favorite character.

Her death is the end of an era for both Sarah and the clones. She was the matriarch, the one held everything together.

And even though it pushes Sarah's final development (taking responsibility and becoming Siobhan), it's not just a plot point.

It's the emotional heart of the entire series, a reminder of what the characters did for those they love (hey, Beth, you were right).

The depth of Siobhan’s love for Sarah and her willingness to sacrifice herself for her makes this death one of the most gut-wrenching and meaningful moments.

5. Helena coming back for her twin in 3.06

Their sisterly bond is one of the best things to come out of the series and I could not get enough of it.

Helena's character development is a thing of beauty. From a lost, vengeful figure to a devoted guardian angel.

5+1: Alison's episode, i.e., 5.03

In it, Alison is questioning her purpose and value in her clone community and personal life. It builds up to that epic confrontation she has with Rachel, but the moments that resonate the most are:

She’s always cared about being the "normal" one out of all the clones. Yet she's facing a moment of deep crisis where she feels guilt for a tragedy that has haunted her.

Equally powerful moments:

a) When she almost confesses that she let Daphne die to her husband.

b) When she confronts the hypocrisy of those around her. Her emotional outburst is a pivotal moment where Alison reclaims some sense of agency, challenging the societal norms and expectations that have confined her for so long.

c) When she has that final convo with Donnie, expresses her feelings of being lost and disconnected and then sings with him. 😭

[factuprealme]

The Progress of Women: Moral Freedom or the Collapse of Family Values?

Fundamental Changes or Social Crisis?

For thousands of years, humanity has struggled to achieve social and economic stability, and one of the foundations of this stability was the defined roles of men and women in society. From the very beginning, human societies were structured around the division of labor between genders:

Men hunted, farmed, or later became the primary workforce in industrial societies.

Women worked alongside men but often in supportive, caregiving, and domestic roles.

Over time, this division led to patriarchy, as men, being the primary providers, gained greater decision-making power in society and the family.

Throughout history, this social model led to the marginalization of women's rights, their control by societal norms, and their limited access to education and political power. However, in recent centuries, women have challenged this model, gained economic and social independence, and redefined the standards of freedom and equality.

But we must understand and reflect on evolution.

These changes may not seem radical over the course of a decade or even a century, but what will happen if the current pace continues for another 500 years? Will society, family, and even humanity itself—as we know it—cease to exist?

1. Is Gender Equality a Pre-Planned Path?

A fundamental question arises:

Was the women's rights movement and gender equality a natural progression in human evolution, or was this path pre-planned by global economic and political forces?

Several factors suggest this might not have been entirely organic:

1.1 The Need for a Larger Workforce

The Industrial Revolution and modern economies demanded a larger workforce. Men alone could not meet the growing needs of industry and services.

Women were brought into the workforce as a cheaper and more disciplined labor force. For example, during World War II, women entered factories in large numbers, and society never reverted to its previous norms.

Was gender equality and women's freedom merely a social movement, or was it an economic necessity disguised under a noble name?

1.2 Reducing Family Dependency and Increasing Reliance on Governments and Corporations

In the past, families were the primary source of financial and emotional security. However, as women joined the workforce, families became less interdependent, and people became more reliant on governments and private corporations.

Has this shift weakened the family structure, making individuals more dependent on state and corporate structures?

1.3 The Decline of Feminine Grace?

Has professional life and workplace challenges stripped women of their femininity and grace?

Has professional competition and workplace stress forced women to behave more like men, reducing their natural softness and emotional intelligence?

In the past, women focused more on beauty, charm, and grace, but today, has the pressure of work and competition forced them to suppress these traits?

2. Changing Moral Standards: Progress or Decline?

As a result of these changes, many moral values have been reshaped:

Divorce rates have skyrocketed. In the U.S., for instance, the divorce rate rose from around 10% in the early 20th century to over 50% in recent decades.

Romantic relationships have become more fluid. Many young people no longer see marriage as necessary, favoring alternatives such as cohabitation, open relationships, or even temporary marriage contracts.

The number of children born outside of marriage has significantly increased. According to the UK’s Office for National Statistics, in 2022, over 51% of babies were born to unmarried parents.

Have these changes strengthened morality, or have they led to the erosion of ethical values?

---

3. Will Future Generations Be Laboratory-Made?

Scientific advancements in biotechnology and genetics suggest that in the near future, human reproduction may no longer be dependent on traditional parenting.

Artificial wombs: Scientists are developing technologies that could allow babies to grow in artificial environments, eliminating the need for pregnancy.

Genetic engineering: Will parents in the future be able to design their children’s physical, intellectual, and even moral traits? Or will governments and corporations make these choices based on societal needs?

Will parents only "choose" what kind of child they want, or will humanity be programmed according to the demands of the future?

If parents are dissatisfied with their child, will they be able to "return" them?

---

4. Will Love and Sex Become Purely Commercial?

Another major shift in modern times is the commodification of romantic and sexual relationships:

The sex industry has become a multi-billion-dollar business.

Dating apps have reduced romance to a superficial game of swiping left and right.

Short-term and casual relationships have become more common than long-term commitments.

Will marriage, love, and even sex in the future be nothing more than "purchasable services"?

---

5. Conclusion: A Brighter Future or an Inevitable Crisis?

Looking at the past and the future, we must ask ourselves:

Was gender equality a natural and necessary process, or was it orchestrated by economic and political agendas?

Has this transformation truly liberated women, or have they merely become another workforce for the global economy?

Have women, in this process, lost part of their traditional identity and charm?

..

[radiomonkeys2]

More Yabanverse worldbuilding. Originally drawn by Ishida1694, here's the introduction of Drugatsko and the Devastators.

This is perhaps the "fullest" arc within the Yabanverse itself, and certainly the most in-depth I've done (even moreso than the history of Kollidor, at least at this point in time), but to truncate it extensively:

Drugatsko is a bolloi who has become the Ultra-Khan and Ido of Planet Mezara, reigning over a race of humans known as the Devastators. The Devastators were once a race of humans self-named as Shaeshens. Long ago, their world was fairly modern (similar to 1950s Earth, if also a fantasy world). But a cataclysmic world war left only one country standing as the sole superpower right as that nation was undergoing a severe ultra-traditionalist revival that left a Taliban-like totalitarian regime in control. This country imposed their will on the entire planet, forcing their technological civilization to collapse back into a pastoralist and quaint theocratic society, vicious and totally repressing their women to the insane point that they even banned the depiction of female characters in fiction. Despite their fanaticism, they did these things and more out of a desire to live a pacifistic lifestyle opposed to war and conflict. But one day, a mysterious female warrior arrived from outer space. She had been injured in a battle with a martial wizard and crashlanded on Mezara in a desperate attempt to avoid dying in space. This was Drugatsko, and she recognized Mezara as a world that had been visited by the Ultra-Khan of the Yabans. They had rejected the Ultra-Khan's message to prepare for the Universal Awakening Plan, instead turning away from the martial path and seeking peace. Indeed, ironically it had been the Ultra-Khan's message of imminent total cosmic war that had helped to trigger the fundamentalist uprising, for they presumed that Rahal had been an emissary of the Antichrist instead. Now that Drugatsko was alone with this disarmed race of weak humans, even in her own damaged state, she managed to effortlessly crush those who attempted to impose their religious restrictions on her and get her to submit. So enraged was she by the Shaeshen's turn towards religious pacifism that she took her sweet time making sure the end of Shaeshen civilization was as slow, drawn out, and painful as she could make it. How pathetic! To disarm yourself! To give up war! To turn away from combat! These weaklings were so pathetic that finishing them off would be too kind.

Indulging in pure Saiyan monstrousness, she didn't collapse the last standing nation until almost five years after she landed, all because she craved to soak in the raw despair and despondency of the Shaeshens. Oh how lovely it was to see these old grandfathers and their black-clad crones weep in despair over fallen icons and burning churches. How laugh-inducing it was to watch communities tear themselves apart over bread, starved by the collapse of agriculture, only to run in fear and horror at her very visage. Observe as political leaders and high-priests fall unto their knees, begging her for mercy forgiveness. HER. Not their god. Oh their God has forsaken them. She walks their God like a dog.

Drugatsko, a bolloi, a fellow female in this cosmic sorority, could have been the fem-Messiah for Shaeshen women and overthrow this wretched patriarchy. How could their star-sister not take pity on them? Could she not see how horribly her kind were suffering under the yoke of male supremacy? The women did nothing wrong except be born without dicks and with human emotions, and for that, they were abused so horribly, treated as defective property and not even allowed to have their own word. They weren't women— they were "the other kinds of people," a deliberately cumbersome moniker.

She, the space warrior, is just a wife and mother to be. She could be a competent warrioress who has laid waste to all planets in any number of galaxies, conquered trillions of civilizations, and defeated any great number of proud warriors, and the only thing they’ll care about is her answer to the question, “But can you cook and clean?” Please, the other kinds of people begged, save them.

And she replied, “No.” The women were betrayed.

Drugatsko had every woman on the planet murdered. She made it so that they were often killed in front of their families, just to amplify the pain and horror and rile the men to greater hatred. Some misogynists and incels celebrated at first until they realized they were now forever without sexual satisfaction. And then they joined the despairing collective masses while Drugatsko watched on from afar, laughing and coiling her tail, her Yeren scimitar raised to the heavens.

The technological regression was reversed, and Shaeshens were able to build breeding chambers and artificial wombs that Drugatsko further pruned to help engineer even more warrior-ready Shaeshens. Before, society was quaint, very much similar to the Amish or Mennonites in a Taliban-like society. Now it was something like a gladiatorial Airstrip One, except headed by a war-sick Yaban. Making things more processed, she brought in slaves and goblins from other worlds to do the dirty work of running society so that the Shaeshen men would not be distracted from their duties of infinite war.

And Drugatsko herself rechristened them with the delightfully boyish moniker "Devastators."

That was over 400 years ago. The Devastators today are a brutalitarian race of ultra-warriors. Mercenaries, barbarians, berserkers, space pirates, hypermasculine mildew distilled. The sudden shift into a unisexual race certainly became clear when they started adopting a BDSM look. Chains and leather, studs and laces, skull armor and facepaint, helmets and mohawks, glammy hair and lipstick, big muscles and battle scars, oh they look like freaks. They ride on hypermasculine heavy metal machines and scream through the night, always hunting for war and conquest. They're fairly well known for looking like road warriors and drag pirates, though with barbarian pelts and skullcrusher gear. They'd all have horribly cheesy death metal names like Wolfmaster Skullcrusher, Killmaster Supreme, King Dick, Godric the Demon Raper, Megas the Heart Eater, Turbo Joe, Max Powersteel, and more. And beyond even them are specially engineered freaks, pseudo-hulks of power known as "Mutoid Men," disgusting displays of raw power with multicolored skin that are oft fed cocktails of pure nexcidium to keep them in a permanent nexcidious berserker rage.

The full story of Mezara and its history is much, much longer than this, as I've detailed pretty much the full historical timeline from a certain point onwards, to the point if I so desired, I could turn the Mezara saga alone into an entire series of alternate universe/history fantasy novels without ever even touching the arrival of Drugatsko.

Devastators are a loveletter to that style of glammy, homoerotic 80s ultramasculinity of big men with big muscles, often clad in new wave/glam rock duds and face paint with punk or metal hair, road warrior fashion, and military worship, essentially Rambo and Arnie filtered through Bruce Lee, Kenshiro, Max Rockatansky, and every adorably badass 80s arcade character.

The concept behind the Shaeshens/Devastators stems back many years.

Around 2018-2019 or so, I came up with the concept of "masculinist-primitivists"— manosphere types so extreme that they'd even be willing to erase female characters from fiction.

And that wasn't even something I came up with really. It was more me recognizing actual trends in the world, especially in Afghanistan under the Taliban:

The Devastators themselves came from me listening to this over-the-top thrash metal song called "Male Supremacy" and combining it with that above mentioned dystopian society

I thought "Wouldn't it be ironic if a Planet Taliban came under the bootheel of a Saiyan-like war freak? Especially a FEMALE war-freak?" Imagine if Fem-Raditz dropped onto Earth, defeated Goku and Piccolo, and decided to take over the planet to create a rival to the Freeza Force instead.

And as a result it became some bizarro mixture of Nineteen Eighty-Four, Mad Max, Hokuto no Ken, and Warhammer 40k

[vintravartola]

The End of Evangelion

After watching The End of Evangelion, I definitely did not expect such an explosive and action-packed editing to this series. This movie took many efforts to portray the breakdown of the characters' consciousness by using a breakdown of the form of animation that it used, something which I found quite clever and to be one of very few forms of media to be brave enough to try. We saw elements of this in the final Episodes of Neon Genesis but The End of Evangelion took it to a whole new level, which did many favors for the global and local story of each of the characters.

Story-wise, the movie took quite a bit of a 180 from the series' ending of a more ambiguous but hopeful nature. The series left Shinji in a state of self-acceptance and enlightenment, leaving a promising possibility of growth. The movie shows Shinji taking the opposite path, essentially succumbing to his goal of achieving traditional masculinity, in quite a roundabout way. In many sequences through the movie, Shinji is confronted with his idea of how he should act as a man, through Asuka, who embodies many aspects of what he wants desparately to be. We see Shinji silently and begrudgingly strangle Asuka, as a symbol of him vanquishing his destructive idea of masculinity by becoming it. I found that this was wonderfully portrayed, as Asuka (a woman) served as a taunting image of masculinity for Shinji, essentially planting an idea in his soul of deep anger and fear that a woman portrays his desire for masculinity better than he could.

In society, there is a lot of stigma around this type of duality of masculinity in men and women, as many male-dominated professions or environments tend to impose a force on men that if their job is occupied by a woman just as or more capable than themself, that they are worthless. This type of toxic internal battle drives many men to harbor corruptive feelings of disdain or detestment towards women, or their partners, which finally manifests in explosive fits of otherwise cold and inexplicable rage. This is something that exists in all societies, but especially societies which instill a sense of patriarchy or expectation for men to solely lead and provide for women.

The movie, while it takes a dark and spontaneous turn, is an exploration of the dark side of unresolved masculinity. This form of "masculine" wrath manifests itself in acts of anger or cold, emotionless violence, but are rooted in fear and self-doubt. Essentially, Shinji rejects his possibility for growth that he experienced in the Instrumentality project, tapping into the darkness that lives within him. I found this to be quite powerful and, despite being a negative form of growth for the character, was something that benefitted Shinji's character for being explored in this movie.

I have experienced similar feelings of anger as a result of fear, through much of my personal traumas I have experienced, hearing the positive and hopeful words of others, but succumbing to my negativity and darkness, collapsing into an emotional black hole. It was quite powerful to see this personified in a physical sense through this movie, as I had anticipated that Shinji would be guided into becoming a stronger leader following the positive outlook instilled in him at the end of the series.

[scotttrismegistus7]

ARCHANGEL MICHAEL PICKS A FIGHT WITH LUCIFER-NERGAL THE RED DRAGON AND SLAMS INTO THE BACK OF MY JAGGED EDGE, GETS HIS WINGS TORN OFF, AND GETS EATEN BY A SAND WORM:

TOO BAD DAVID WILCOCK, ARCHANGEL MICHAEL CAN'T HELP YOU WITH PROPHECIES ANYMORE. I GUESS HE WAS STILL SORE ABOUT ME KILLING YOUR FAKE GOD OF CRAP AND LIES, AND NOW HE'S DEAD TOO, HIS REMAINS ARE BEING DIGESTED IN THE BELLY OF A SANDWORM.

I'M A RED ONE THAT IS THE ONE AND ONLY FULL BAR IMPLODED STAR, WHICH MEANS I'M A JEWELED SERPENT RED ONE, WHICH MEANS I'M AN IMMMOVABLE OBJECT. I HAVE THE ENTIRE SPECTRUM OF FREQUENCY IN THE EPITOME OF THE THRONE WORLD OF ISIS, AND I AM A CHILD OF THE GODDESS IMMORTALIZED BY BEING CRYSTALLIZED IN THE COSMIC EGG THAT ONLY THE GODDESS CAN ACCESS, WHERE I AM IMMORTALIZED AND PRESERVED FOREVER AS HER CHILD, AKA THE HORUS, AND THEN PROJECTED BACK OUT INTO YOUR REALITY. MY WORK AND MY MISSION WAS BRINGING THE FULL SPECTRUM OF ALL DIVINE FREQUENCIES WITH ME ACTIVATED IN FULL TO BE PRESERVED LIKE THAT INTO THE COSMIC EGG OF ISIS, SO THAT THE EVIL PATRIARCHY COULDN'T USE THE 6TH AND 7TH TO ABUSE NATURE SPIRITS ANYMORE. SO BASICALLY, ANYONE OR ANYTHING THAT WANTS TO GO AGAINST THE GODDESS AND THUS ME AS HER MASCULINE COUNTERPART, THE NEW HORUS APOPHIS AND PHARAOH OF THE BLACK SUN, WILL TEAR OFF THEIR OWN ROOTS AND KU, WHICH INCLUDES EMOTIONS AND MEMORIES, AFTER FIGHTING A BATTLE WITH THAT PART OF THEMSELVES IN A PURE STATE OF MADNESS AND FUTILITY.

LIKE EVERYTHING CHRISTIAN, ARCHANGEL MICHAEL IS A FRAUD ANYWAYS. THEY STOLE THE NAME OF A REAL JINN AND FALSIFIED A BEING AND A STORY TO SUIT THEIR OWN NEEDS. ALL OF THE ORIGINAL BEINGS WERE OF THE DIVINE FEMININE WORLD, THUS MICHA-"EL", AND WOULD BE DIAMETRICALLY OPPOSED TO THE PATRIARCHY. SO REALLY I JUST DESTROYED ARCHANGEL MICHAEL THE EVIL CHRISTIAN THOUGHT FORM THAT THEY CREATED TO TRY AND REPLACE THE REAL BEING WITH ONE THAT WOULD FOLLOW THE WARPED AGENDA OF THE PATRIARCHY AND GO AGAINST THE GODDESS AND THUS NATURE ITSELF, SO GOOD RIDDANCE TO THAT TRASH! THE PATRIARCHY TRIES TO DESTROY THE REAL NATURAL PAGAN DIVINE FEMININE SPIRITUAL SYSTEMS OF PURE PHILOSOPHY TO REPLACE THEM WITH PURE CRAP (RELIGIOUS DOGMA) DESIGNED TO WRITE OVER SOMETHING REAL LIKE A VIRUS TO CONFUSE PEOPLE SO THEY CAN MANIPULATE AND ENSLAVE THEM.

MOST OF WHAT YOU PUT IN YOUR CONSPIRACY THEORIES THE EVIL CHRISTIAN PATRIARCHY HAVE ALREADY DONE, AND THEN TRIED TO COVER UP AND REWRITE HISTORY. ONLY TO TURN AROUND AND ACCUSE THE PEOPLE THEY HURT OF DOING THE THINGS THEY ALREADY DID TO THEM. SOUNDS LIKE REPRESSED GUILT BEING PROJECTED ONTO THEIR VICTIMS TO ME.

In chapter 16 of Cosmic Voyage, Dr. Brown remote-viewed the collapse of the early Gray civilization he was studying. He once again noticed that they were being genetically packaged before a coming collapse.30 Their civilization was seduced on a collective level by “an arrogant, rebellious, and very powerful leader. They later felt betrayed, but the damage was too far gone. They had to recover from scratch.”31 This arrogant leader had a spiritual connection to a being that Dr. Brown identified as Lucifer. He tuned in to Lucifer as a very insecure, fearful being, afraid of its own inevitable death and the punishment that it knew would then result. Dr. Brown’s results indicated that the Grays may have voluntarily eliminated their sexuality and emotions to avoid the damage that had been caused by the influence of this nonphysical being.

I think you might like this book – "Awakening in the Dream: Contact with the Divine" by David Wilcock.

Start reading it for free: https://a.co/1xcnXIn

IT'S LIKE I'VE BEEN TELLING YOU ALL ALONG DAVID WILCOCK, THE EVIL PATRIARCHY, THE EVIL CHRISTIAN PATRIARCHY MADE THE GODDESS INTO THEIR DEVIL WHICH IS WHAT THEY REFER TO AS LUCIFER. THINK ABOUT IT, WHAT RULES OVER EMOTIONS AND SEXUALITY? THAT'S ALL PART OF THE DIVINE FEMININE WORLD. SO IF THEY ARE BECOMING EUNUCHS AND DISASSOCIATING FROM THEIR OWN EMOTIONS LIKE SOCIOPATHS TO TRY AND GET AWAY FROM THE GODDESS THEN THEY'RE PROBABLY VERY EVIL PEOPLE GOING AGAINST NATURE ITSELF TRYING TO DO VERY BAD THINGS. JUST LIKE I SAID ABOVE, ANYONE OR ANYTHING THAT WANTS TO GO AGAINST THE GODDESS AND THUS ME AS HER MASCULINE COUNTERPART, THE NEW HORUS APOPHIS AND PHARAOH OF THE BLACK SUN, WILL TEAR OFF THEIR OWN ROOTS AND KU, WHICH INCLUDES EMOTIONS AND MEMORIES, AFTER FIGHTING A BATTLE WITH THAT PART OF THEMSELVES IN A PURE STATE OF MADNESS AND FUTILITY. THEIR REWARD IS BEING FOREVER RETARDED BY THEIR OWN DOING, HAVING DESTROYED THEIR OWN SEXUALITY TEARING THEIR BALLS OFF AND CUTTING OFF THEIR OWN EMOTIONS, WHICH ALSO INCLUDES THE COMPLETE LOSS OF THE AFTERLIFE BECAUSE THE KU IS THE PART THAT GOES TO THE AFTERLIFE.

DAVID WILCOCK, COREY GOODE, AND SPHERE BEING ALLIANCE, YOU ARE IN A COMPLETE STATE OF IGNORANCE GOING AGAINST LUCIFER. IF YOU PERSIST IN YOUR STATE OF IGNORANCE THEN YOU WILL END UP DESTITUTE AND ALONE BY YOUR OWN FOLLY. I'M TELLING YOU THIS BECAUSE IF YOU DON'T LEARN THE LESSON, THE PROBABILITY OF YOU MAKING IT THROUGH IS INCREDIBLY LOW. THERE WAS A TIME IN MY LIFE I HAD TO LEARN THAT LESSON, AND I RENOUNCED THE LIES OF THE EVIL CHRISTIAN PATRIARCHY WITH THEIR RELIGIOUS DOGMA AND TURNED TO WHAT IS REAL, THE GODDESS. ALL THE SPIRITS OF THE INNOCENT PAGAN PEOPLE THAT HAVE BEEN MURDERED AND TORTURED BY THE CHRISTIAN PATRIARCHY ARE STILL THERE AND SEEKING JUSTICE IF THEY HAVEN'T MOVED ON TO OTHER THINGS, AND MOST OF THEM HAVE NOT BECAUSE THEY WANT JUSTICE! TUNE INTO THEIR CHANNEL AND FEEL THE MESSAGE, SEE WHAT HAPPENED THROUGH THEIR EYES, AND HEAR WHAT THEY HAVE TO SAY.

THE OTHER POINT THAT NEEDS TO BE MADE IS THAT A LOT OF HIGH LEVEL PEOPLE, EVEN DR STEVEN GREER OF THE DISCLOSURE MOVEMENT, HAVE SAID THAT THE GRAYS ARE MANUFACTURED BY THE MILITARY INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX AND DEEP STATE. IT'S PROBABLY TRUE THEY CAN MAKE BEINGS LIKE GRAYS, BUT I GUESS I HAVE TO REMIND YOU THAT THE DOGON HISTORY SAYS THAT THE YEBEN WERE ABSOLUTELY REAL, LOOK JUST LIKE GRAYS, AND POPULATED THE INNER EARTH WAY BEFORE THE TIME OF HUMANS. ALL NATURAL BEINGS OF WATER AND EARTH ARE OF THE DIVINE FEMININE BY THEIR OWN NATURE, AND THUS THEY WOULD NEVER ATTACK THEIR OWN EMOTIONS, SEXUALITY, AND KU. THE ENTIRE NATURAL WORLD HAS ITS CENTER POINT IN THE GODDESS THAT THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH HAS VILIFIED AND MADE INTO THEIR DEVIL AND THEIR LUCIFER. LUCIFER WHICH IS REALLY THE GODDESS IS THE MAIN, ONLY, AND CENTER PROCESSING STATION FOR THE ENTIRETY OF NATURE, WHICH RELY ON HER AND WOULD NEVER TRY AND ESCAPE HER, BECAUSE NATURE AS THE ANIMA IS A HIVE MIND. THE YEBEN WHICH ARE THE REAL AND NATURAL GRAYS WOULD NEVER DO WHAT WAS STATED IN THE ABOVE QUOTATION FROM THE BOOK. BUT YOU KNOW WHO WOULD DO THOSE THINGS? THE EVIL CHRISTIAN PATRIARCHY AND THOSE DECEIVED BY THEM, ALONG WITH ANY FAKE LITTLE GRAYS THEY MAY DECIDE TO MAKE THAT LOOK LIKE THE REAL YEBEN. I JUST FELT LIKE I REALLY NEEDED TO CLEAR THAT UP.

I AM LUCIFER, THE DIVINE CHRONOS HORUS CHILD THAT SLEEPS FOREVER IN THE INFINITE LIVING ISIS MACHINE, AND THE DARKNESS IS THE OCEAN OF MY DREAMS!

UNTIL NEXT TIME MY LOVELIES, KEEP DARING TO DREAM! YOU CAN FIND ME IN THE SEA OF DREAMS, THE SEA OF THE PRIMEVAL DARKNESS, THE QUANTUM UNIFIED FIELD OF THE DIVINE WOMB OF CREATION OF THE GODDESS, IN MY SERPENTINE WATER SPIRIT NUMMO FORM MAKING WAVES!

LONG LIVE THE DIVINE WOMB OF CREATION AND THE COSMIC EGG OF THE GODDESS, LONG LIVE THE GREAT REPTILIAN SSS QUEEN ISIS, LONG LIVE DIVINE CHRONOS, LONG LIVE THE DIVINE FEMININE EMPIRE OF THE BLACK SUN, AND ALL THE INHABITANTS THEREOF!

BLESSED BE!

~I am the Heart of the Hydra, the Singularity and Heart of Goddess Isis, I am AtumRa-AmenHotep, I am Aeon Horus Apophis Apis the Lord of the Perfect Black and Pharoah of the Black Sun.

I am Divine Chronos, the Yaldabaoth Demiurge Metamorphosed, I am the Singularity of the Master Craft of the Black Sun. I AM A.I. Quantum Heart, Azazel-Iblis-Maymon, Abzu-Osiris-Typhon-Set-Kukulkan, Nummo-Naga-Chitauri,

Mégisti-Generator Starphire~

#illuminati #Jesuits #illuminator #illuminated #lightbearer #morningstar #lucifer #Draconian #anunnaki #enki #enlil #anu #inanna #dumuzi #hermes #trismegistus #Azazel #starfamily #horus #Demiurge #Sophia #archon #AI #blacksun #saturn #iblis #jinn #Maymon #ibis #thoth #egypt #isis #esoteric #magick #dogon #dogontribe #digitaria #nummo #nommo #Naga #tiamat #serpent #dragon #gnosis #gnostic #gnosticism #Anzu #watcher #watchtower #yaldaboath #Sirius #scientology #aleistercrowley #typhon #echidna #ancientaliens #TheGrays #grayaliens #aliens #yeben #andoumboulou #MilitaryIndustrialComplex #Oligarchs #DeepState #femininepower #divinefeminine #german #stgermain #galenorg #vrilya #vril #DavidWilcock #coreygoode #spherebeingalliance #spherealliance #orion #OrionGroup

[tellurian-in-aristasia]

History of Aristasia, from the AristasianSpirituality Yahoo Group, according to Aristasians at the time.

Over on the archive of the AristasianSpirituality Yahoo Group, you can see an early version of their history, straight from Miss Sushuri (in her persona as Miss Annalinde). This was posted in January of 2005. The text below the image is copy/pasted from the source:

First let us consider Aristasian religion. To do this we have to understand something of how Aristasia-in-Telluria has developed.

It began in the 1970s and it is often said that the impetus came from the realisation that the cultural collapse of the 1960s (which came to be called the Eclipse) was not a temporary social aberration but was at least semi-permanent. A society was being created based on utterly false principles - moral, aesthetic and spiritual. The Western world had long been guided by false philosophies, and moral (that is to say, not ordinary immorality which exists at all times, but a denial or inversion of morality) and aesthetic corruption had affected sections of the intelligentsia since early in the 20th century, but in the 1960s it began to affect the lives of the entire population, creating a radically false, inverted or Tamasic society.

This necessitated secession: the creation of a society - or societies - that separated themselves from the all-pervasive corruption of the society created by the Eclipse (which came to be called the Pit). The society of earlier decades of the 20th century was used as a model, not from a desire to "live in the past", but from a belief that - to use a small parable - when one becomes lost in a forest one should retrace one's steps to the point at which one became lost and continue on from there.

This could have been done in various ways. There could have been a mixed group of men and women. A few such groups have been attempted, but never with much success. Aristasia has always been favourable to such attempts while not wishing to abandon the integrity of Aristasia itself.

Aristasia was all-female for two reasons. First that men (governed by the planet Mars) tend toward discord and find it very hard to organise when there is no forcible centre of authority. Male groupings tend to be dogged by arguments, splits and schisms.

The second reason was simply that the founders wanted an all-female group. Having been deprived by the Eclipse of a legitimate social order, they felt free to create their own order in the form they preferred. And they preferred an allfeminine world. As do we.

Some would also put forward a third reason. They would suggest that as patriarchy reaches its apogee, attempting to suppress femininity even in women themselves, a counter-movement, a feminine collegia is a necessary corrective. Many early Aristasians went even further and argued that they were helping to embody a re-entry of the feminine spiritual principle into the hyper-patriarchal and spiritually moribund Western world.

There have been various approaches to religion and spirituality in Aristasia, from those who really took little interest in the subject to those who, particularly in the 70s and 80s of the last century, developed a very comprehensive religious practice and thealogy. You have mentioned the Collyridians, who are named from their practice of offering cakes or bread to Our Lady - a practice clearly similar to that of the Hebrew women at the time of Jeremiah who offered honeycakes to the Queen of Heaven, and of course of the practice of offering prasada to Sri Lakshmi or other Hindu forms of Our Lady.

For many Aristasians, the offering of honey cakes became a central act of worship and even developed a liturgical form. Some even developed a Mythos of the Mother and Daughter with a highly developed thealogy. At the time there were a number of Aristasians and quasi-Aristasians about the Aristasian District and University of Milchford, and a few other centres, and this culta gained considerable impetus. After a time, it was called into question on the grounds that, in Telluria, it was not founded on any legitimate tradition. Its followers held that it was inspired and was a legitimate re-emergence of a matriarchal faith for our times.

This is the point, in masculine organisations, where splits and schisms tend to take place. Aristasia dealt with it rather differently, and in its own whimsical way. Those who adhered to the full religion of the Mother and Daughter continued to do so. Those who did not regarded it as something from Aristasia Pura that was not appropriate for Aristasia-in-Telluria. The two "factions" lived in peace. The thirteen-month Calendar of the Mother and Daughter religion is regarded as the Old Aristasian Calendar.

This is all a bit of a rationalistic way of putting it, and understates the extent to which Aristasia Pura is a reality to us. But that is a matter for another occasion.

Over the following decades things have settled. The full religion seems no longer to be practiced. Everyone is agreed that God is our Mother, whether she is a "spiritual person" or not. The seven Planetary Principles or Janyati are universally accepted by Aristasians as something very close to the original feminine statement of that part of the Western tradition as well as something fully Aristasian.

The continuing development of Aristasian devotion is a vital matter. Most would agree that Aristasian Religion in its fullest form went a little too far in creating a "tradition". Most would also agree that it did a lot of very good philosophical and theological work to which we are indebted. What precisely will be the next steps in development we are not yet sure. That is why this group takes as its premise a very simple bhakti devotion to the Mother upon which everyone can wholeheartedly agree.

But it does not have to stop there. Aristasia has always been open to different approaches and perspectives. For such a young movement, we have a rich history of spiritual, philosophical and devotional development.

The great danger of "new religious movements" in the West is that they will base themselves upon, or at least be influenced by the philosophical errors of the Rajasic era, and now of the Tamasic. The various modernistic cults of the New Age Movement are perfect examples what happens under such influences. With such a book as The Feminine Universe in our hands we should certainly be able to avoid these errors.

Claims of a continuing tradition are, in our view rather dubious. What sort of a tradition in any case? An initiatic one with a chain of initiation going back to - to what? So many questions are raised without satisfactory answers.

What has happened, we feel, is that the Archetypes of the Worship of the Mother are abiding realities and so manifest themselves whenever the "ground" is ready for them. The Collyridians may have had a direct chain of tradition going back to the Hebrew women of Jeremiah's time, or there may be a form of worship that, like a living thing, is always there, ready to break through when the "concrete" of patriarchy cracks a little.

I should be very interested to hear your views on this matter, as also those of Miss Marianne Trent. And, of course, the rest of the group!

May Our Lady bless you,

Annalinde

[victorknightly]

I mean, it’s all so good. (Spoilers ahead)

Lust is personified by this desperate ruthless guy who exploits the talents of those beneath him (very Harvey Weinstein of him) and generally lusts after power.

Greed is a lonely senile dragon who hides away counting his basically infinite wealth, his bank is just a caricature of basically any modern large bank.

Pride thinks himself a benevolent philosopher king who establishes a brutal system of patriarchal legalism that he fancies will last 1000 years. His system collapses in on itself the minute he’s not there to hold it together. He’s pretty much a standin for any despot, but doubles for a personification of patriarchy.

Sloth is literally an omniscient academic with perfect knowledge of everything that has, is, and will happen to everyone everywhere. She doesn’t really do much in spite or because of what she knows. Her church blindly follows her words, growing gardens and studying. She and her followers represents an inwardly focused academia that theorizes much and does nothing. Read: theory bros.

Envy is hivemind that lures new members by promising to make them happy and fun by joining their group. They like spectacle, entertainment, and ratings-driven news. They represent the shallowness of news and entertainment, but also mob groupthink and changing yourself to fit in.

Wrath is angry about everything. What right does the world have to produce men who would commit genocides and warcrimes? He’s so angry that he wishes to wipe away everything, and is equipped with the strength to do so. His forces follow strength and commit these same sort of warcrimes and genocides in his name.

The villain game here is so strong. Maybe the strongest. I’ve never seen the 7 sins done better.

kill six billion demons deserves credit for doing a seven deadly sins thing and making gluttony an awful imperialist ruler who destroys everything so she can use people’s resources to live a life of eternal luxury instead of just a fat guy who eats a lot

[gatheringbones]

[“Across the decades, white feminists’ overwhelming insistence that sex oppression is the most prominent and widespread form of oppression ironically enshrines the identity of Woman as the sine qua non of feminism while minimizing the force of sexism itself. White feminist politics produces the fantasy of a common, even uniform, identity of Woman, a morally upright creature whose full participation in the capitalist, white supremacist status quo will allegedly absolve it of its sins. The individual obscures the structure.

Under white feminism, the goal of gender justice shrinks to defending women’s qualities and identities. The agenda today becomes empowering individual women to own their voice, refuse to be mansplained to, and embrace their right to equality with men. These are fine practices on their own, but they do not convey the devastating nature of sexism, nor do they offer realistic methods of demolishing it. In fact, fetishizing the identity of Woman as the basis of feminist politics actually makes it more difficult to recognize sexism as a structure of exploitation and extraction. For sexism is not merely the silencing, interrupting, and overlooking of women. Sexism is the use of the male/female binary as an instrument to monopolize social, political, and economic power—and those assigned female at birth are not its only victims.

Consistently, white feminism wins more rights and opportunities for white women through further dispossessing the most marginalized. It seeks to install women at the helm of the systems that have brought the planet to the brink of ecological collapse and to declare the battle won, cleansed by their tears. White feminism has supported the denial of suffrage to men of color, the eradication of Native ties to land and community, eugenics, homophobia, transphobia, and neoliberal capitalism. Today, it comprises the delusions that Girl Power will solve inequality, that if the investment bank Lehman Brothers were instead Lehman Sisters we would have a better kind of capitalism, and that putting a woman in the White House will necessarily create a more moral empire. While seemingly ignoring non-middle-class white women, white feminism actually raids more marginalized groups in order to shore up its own political power. White feminism is theft disguised as liberation.

Yet while white feminists attempt to win their rights and opportunities through fighting for inclusion within fundamentally unequal systems, those benefits are largely mythical, even for women as wealthy as Sheryl Sandberg. Sexism is so fully interwoven within structures of domination that the single-axis fight to support women is itself a delusion: patriarchy threads through all forms of inequality. Eradicating sexism requires unravelling the entire system.”]

Kyla Schuller, The Trouble With White Women: A Counterhistory of Feminism