#nor just generally... human friendly
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sorensolsikke · 4 months ago
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i am so mad at shower gels. why don't we have just simple smelling shower gels. i don't want to smell like lavender+blacberry, i want a simple, truly lavender smelling shower gel that soothes my brain when brain is stressed.
and again, why don't we have unisex shower gels?? i need some vanilla smelling stuff without it being masc-or feminized. why do i have to adjust to some rich guys' "needs" of stuff being the most profitable (therefore not making them androgyn like, ever.)
i am quite content with the masc shower gel i found a year ago (it smells spicy🤍), but GOD FORBID ME FROM FINDING PINE SMELLING STUFF. PINE IS ONE OF MY FAVES, WHY CAN'T I FIND LITERALLY ANYTHING LIKE THAT?? I AM A PINES-VIBE GUY WITH SUCH A SIMPLE NEED.
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obsessivevoidkitten · 7 months ago
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Love is a Many-Legged Thing
Yandere Squid Merman x Gender Neutral Reader CW: Noncon, tentacle noncon, light tentacle bondage, stalking, kidnapping, squid-based merman, big slimy prehensile merman dick, reader fucked senseless, merman fantasizes about receiving oral sex, general yandere behavior, delusional yandere, voyeurism, exhibitionism Word Count: 2k (Happy MerMay!!!! I really hope you all love the fic, would have been done weeks ago had the ac not died. But still 40min left of MerMay! I wrote this fast without a beta reader so please forgive any mistakes! The name Onyk is a reference to Onykia Ingens, a deap sea squid with an astoundingly long dick.)
Seaspark Aquarium was a very unique establishment. Not only did it contain the usual attractions that an aquarium housed, the tide pools, the sharks, a seemingly unending variety of colorful fish and corals and nudibranchs, but it also housed transient merfolk. The aquarium was situated on a flat outcrop of rocky land. Via submerged tubes it granted access to a huge tank to the ocean and merfolk below.
The tank was absolutely massive and had many different areas including a reef, a seaweed forest, a beach, and even a secluded sea cave. There were underwater cameras in most of the areas that live streamed what was happening on screens for the humans. Though the sea cave feed was restricted to adults only since the merfolk sometimes mated there.
The aquarium was just as much an exhibit for the merpeople as it was for the humans, they had underwater screens that allowed them to view the humans at play and at the food court. They enjoyed seeing and even communicating with their terrestrial cousins. There were several areas where humans and merpeople could talk face to face or via the cameras. Many of them visited quite frequently and made friendships with regular customers and their favorite staff members.
You had been blessed with landing a really good job at Seaspark Aquarium. Though it was entirely because you were the cousin of the curator of the establishment. You did janitorial tasks, including sometimes scraping the tanks, and occasionally you had to provide food for an exhibit. Even though interacting with animals or merfolk was not a common part of your job, there was one squid-man who had become quite friendly with you. Onyk.
Most of the squid type mermen shied away from human interaction, and really the aquarium as a whole, but not Onyk. He had always been a frequent visitor. A knowledgeable observer might even say it seemed that he had been hoping to find something there. The first few times he had gone had been out of pure curiosity about humans after hearing tales about them his entire life. But after his first couple of visits he was enthralled. Everything about the land walkers amazed him.
And then he met you and felt his heart flutter every single time he looked upon you. He frequently tried to engage you in conversation whenever he could and was always watching you, though often it was in secret. Onyk cherished your chats with him, he found you so interesting, even more so than he found other humans. He loved seeing you go about your tasks, it made him think of you cleaning his home as his mate while he went and got food for the two of you.
Of course if you had any say, that would never happen. Onyk, for some reason you couldn't quite place, creeped you out. No, it wasn't the head of tentacles he had in place of hair, nor the dark purple tentacles he had from the waist down, it wasn't his smile that showed off his dangerously sharp teeth, or his cyan blue eyes. No, it wasn't anything physical, just a weird energy he seemed to give off. Like a hungry animal hunting its prey.
You tried to be nice to Onyk, though you always tried to keep conversations brief and hurry on to other tasks that would take you out of his reach. Unfortunately he took your awkward stammers and clumsy rushing to zip away from him as you being extremely shy because you liked him. He sighed and stared at you longingly, head resting on his hands, as you rushed off once more. Clearly you were simply too embarrassed by your emotions to act rationally around him. Onyk had to find a way to get you to stop running off. As adorable as it was that you kept scampering off from your shyness you really needed to be closer to him.
Onyk had a brilliant, though simple, idea. It came to him right as you were in the middle of making another excuse to run away from him while the two of you were chatting in the beach area. He'd simply grab you. It wasn't the first thing he'd normally do, but you were just too prone to running off. It was more than obvious you needed him to make a firm and forceful first move.
"Well uh... it was nice seeing you again Onyk... but um... I gotta go check on the tide p-"
Onyk lunged at you suddenly with the speed and ferocity of lightning. He pulled you into the water and swiftly took you into the empty sea cave and sat you on the dry ground within. Yes, this would do perfectly for his purposes. It was a huge room that had an area for him to swim and enough space for you to run about and get exercise. This would make a lovely home for the two of you, he'd have to keep all the other merfolk out from now on but that wasn't an issue, they were respectful of claimed territory.
Once you caught your breath you were confused and angry at the sudden relocation.
"What the f-"
He interrupted you again, this time by pressing his hungry lips to yours in a passionate embrace. His long tongue slipped past your unsuspecting lips and explored every inch that it could reach. His saliva pooled in your mouth, claiming it. The offending muscle snaked down your throat before finally retreating as he broke the kiss, you struggled to find your breath once more.
"Heh, sorry for interrupting, I have just been waiting to kiss you for so long I couldn't hold back any longer!"
“What!? Why did you do that? Why did you bring me here!?”
“Well your shyness was making it hard for us to take things to the next step in our relationship, now you can’t let your nervousness get the better of you and make you run off!”
“Next step in our relationship? We have no relationship, you creep!”
“Don’t say that! Y-you just have the jitters because moving in is such a big step! Yeah, they’ll wear off soon I’m sure.”
“There won’t be a soon, I am going back to the beach!”
You started to head back to the water, but Onyk closed the distance between the two of you easily.
“But you can’t go! You’re just in denial and nervous, but you’ll love living with me, I promise. M-maybe I’m not moving too fast but too slow. That must be it, you must be all pent up and eager for my dick! So naughty~”
Onyk’s blush was evident even on his light blue skin. He swallowed your complaints in another deep kiss as he stood behind you and rubbed your crotch gently.
“We’ll do it in front of these cameras so everyone knows you’re mine now~”
And, indeed, the screens in the adults only section of the aquarium definitely picked up some viewers as the scene between you and Onyk unfolded.
Most mermen would have had trouble traversing land, but Onyk’s strong tentacles allowed him to maneuver easily enough. He peeled off your wet clothing and wrapped his arms tightly around your bare chest, rubbing and caressing you with greedy hands. His prehensile cock wrapped partially around your waist, held you close as it rubbed against you. At first you mistook the sensation for a tentacle before looking down and seeing it, the cock was tapered, icy blue and glowing at the tip, with the rest of it being dark purple.
Your shouts and screams were ignored as Onyk convinced himself they were just you being grumpy or maybe playing hard to get. The merman’s sharp teeth bit carefully at your tender neck as you squirmed. Most of his tentacles had wrapped around your legs, powerful suction cups firmly adhered them to you. They held you staunchly in place despite your best efforts to struggle.
The remaining two writhing appendages were busy with another task. They gently prodded and massaged your tight hole, slowly worming their way inside you. Your efforts to clench and keep them outside of you were rendered futile as they finally worked their way inside of you. They began thrusting in tandem back and forth within you, loosening you up well.
Your next attempt at protesting devolves into several lusty moans as he ministrations begin to elicit pleasure. It’s all the confirmation he needs that he has been right all along and definitely went about everything in the right way.
“Your mating sounds are so lovely,” he said as he nipped at your ear.
His tentacles suddenly withdrew from your lovingly stretched hole, leaving you involuntarily whimpering at the sudden removal.
“Awe, don’t worry, love. I have something far better to put into you~”
You snap out of it when you hear those words and feel his cock move itself from your waist and start wiggling against you in search of its target.
“What!? No, please do-oooh~ Aaah!”
When it found your entrance it deftly slithered right in. Much to your unwilling pleasure.
Onyk chuckled.
“I knew you just needed some good dick~ You feel soooo good. You were made for this!”
When you happened to look up at one of the cameras you blushed and looked down. The room that monitored the sea cave was now packed, everyone enjoying the sight. The aquarium was already at work recording with plans to put it on their website for sale.
You couldn’t help the lewd cacophony of noises that tumbled from your mouth as the thick slimy cock thrust back and forth inside of you.
“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you!” Onyk chanted louder and louder until he slammed into you hard, filling you up with warm viscous semen at the same moment that you were shuddering from the strongest orgasm that you had ever experienced.
You were far too dazed and overstimulated to realize what was going on in that moment or what you were saying, but on autopilot you mumbled back what your brain thought it was supposed to when someone told you that they loved you.
“I l-love you too…”
Onyk was overjoyed to hear those words from his beloved human. He pulled out of you and laid down on the floor of the cave, pulling you close to him and resting your head on his chest. His webbed fingers gently caressed you as did both the tentacles that made up his "hair" and the ones below his waist. Cum slowly ebbed out of you and onto him but he didn't mind, the two of you would just get messy again the second you came to your senses. He nuzzled into your hair and gave you dozens of little kisses. Your mind was too blank and your body too exhausted to do anything but drool a bit on his chest while he cuddled you.
His head was swimming with all of the things the two of you would do together. Sharing meals, chatting, mating. He couldn’t wait to wrap his cock gently around your neck while at the same time plunging it down your throat and having that pretty mouth of yours suck it until he was feeding you his cum. Maybe the two of you could try it when you woke up.
Meanwhile onlookers on the viewing screens were putting away their cocks and slipping their fingers out of their pussies with the spectacle now over, but word soon spread and tourism was up over 300 percent! Scientists the world over were interested in documenting this rare species of merman having sexual relations with a human. Grants were given. A great raise and credit to your cousin, the curator.
It was even considered a diplomatic victory for merfolk and humans!
Everyone came to the consensus that on all fronts, but yours, it was far too beneficial and lucrative to make sure you had to permanently stay in the sea cave for the rest of your life with Onyk. At the very least they equipped the habitat with amenities like a proper bathroom, tv, video games, and human food. The sea cave area was also expanded, and you were afforded some privacy, except for most of the times that your “husband” Onyk was spilling his seed into you. That’s what people wanted to see.
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lunarsilver · 2 months ago
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What awaits you in November? PAC
Hello, welcome to another monthly reading! This time a pretty chill one, with charms and shufflemancy. If you're feeling down, you may want to read it, because my charms are hyping up everyone here, I swear xD.
REMEMBER
I’m not a doctor, a psychiatrist, a therapist nor a psychologist. Divination will never replace meetings with them.
It’s a general reading, so not everything will resonate.
If you can’t choose between two piles, probably both of them have some messages for you. You can also not identify with any of them, and that’s okay, too.
Readings can help you make a decision, but they shouldn’t be the main reason for making it.
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1 ~ 2 ~ 3
Pile 1
Charms: strength in the group, be brave!, and I love you for it!, seize the moment, new is exciting, I dreamed you!
Songs: “Loser, Baby” from Hazbin Hotel, “Human” by Rag’n’Bone Man, Le Bien qui fait mal from Mozart Opera Rock
There is this strong emphasis on acceptance of your limitations and finding some friendly souls (or maybe deepening the friendship with the people you’re already friends with). The encouragement to do what you want. Not everyone is right for you, and there always will be someone more talented/hardworking than you, but this November you should understand there are a lot of possibilities around you. Go out, have fun.
Pile 2
Charms: you are a master, seize the moment, call the team, just waiting for this, you can count on me, join the game!, you will succeed! :), party?
Songs: Somewhere Only We Know by Keane, The City’s Yours by Jamie Foxx and Quvenzhane Wallis, Rule #4 - Fish in a Birdcage by  Fish in a Birdcage
This pile is even more party-going and outgoing than the first one - or rather, the encouragement to go out with some people and try something new is here even more insistent. Doesn’t matter if “the game” is literally some kind of a game (I feel that some of you will go out with some people to a place with retro games or go bowling) or some project you’re thinking about, you’ll succeed. With the first and last song, I feel like one specific person will be pretty important this month. Or maybe two? For some reason, a grandma came to my mind (take her to the place which is dear to both of you), though a friend or partner are also very plausible.
Pile 3
Charms: success!, it will get better, a good plan is a must, let them say what they want, shall we make up something? (the charm is in my language and the sentence can also mean “let’s paint something” and “let's do something thoughtless but fun”), shall we stand together?, there is nothing like home, let's do something stupid
Songs: Time Machine by Ingrid Michaelson, Overdose by natori, Snowman by Sia
The way the first song has a verse “You slammed that door and left me standing all alone” and one of the charms says “shall we stand together?”??? It looks like there’s a period of healing after something or someone, some ex? Some toxic friend? Someone you (have) cared about and they hurt you, that’s for sure. It looks like someone else will come up in the picture at the right moment and encourage you to have some silly, almost childish fun with them. This troublemaker vibe is strong with them, but the other charms make me think they’re quite sweet. Like, "let's do some stupid shit to light up your mood".
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twst-darling · 1 year ago
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˗ˏˋSomewhere in the Sands of Timeˎˊ˗
Pairing: (General) Lilia Vanrouge x Fem!Reader [or Fem!OC]
Summary: The spell to send you home backfires, and you land the past where you encounter one General Vanrouge.
CW: Smut [porn with very little plot, vaginal fingering, blow jobs/skull fucking, facials, degradation, snowballing, hate fucking?, spit, rough sex, use of words like whore, slight dub-con (but the reader is into it)], Language, Violence [threats of violence, threats of murder], 1st Person Point of View, Fem!Reader, AFAB!Reader, Tall!Lilia
Word Count: 1.3k
A/N: I initially wrote this with my OC in mind. However, it is vague enough that it can be read as a reader insert. Song title is taken from Kryptonite by 3 Doors Down
Having a sword held against my throat wasn’t on my bingo card for ‘Strange Happenings in Twisted Wonderland.�� Then again, neither was a very tall, very angry Lilia Vanrouge. His hair cascaded down his back like an inky black waterfall. Rage simmered beneath his vermilion irises—a bizarre sight, given how friendly they usually were—and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would behead me, given the opportunity.
This Lilia is not my Lilia. Not yet, anyway.
This Lilia has fire in his blood and brimstone for bones. I can feel his heat radiating through the tough leather armor that covers his body. He bares his fangs, crimson eyes sharp and unyielding. Long gone is the cute upperclassman I’d come to know. 
The whole thing is rather fuzzy. One second, I was walking through a portal that was supposed to take me home. The next? I’m sprawled on the ground with a gleaming blade made of gemstones and magic thrust against my jugular. 
I can barely breathe with how Lilia’s knees dig into my ribs. It’s intentional. And though I know I shouldn’t waste my breath, I can’t help but whimper. My hands lay unbound by my head, but I dare not move them. Not even an inch.
“Your boldness is admirable, yet foolish, mortal scum. Sneaking into fae territory shall wreak nothing but the most exquisite suffering.”
“I-I didn't—”
Lilia presses forward, practically crushing my lungs. “I didn’t say you could speak.”
The edge of his sword—cleaver?—cuts into my neck, and I yelp. “Lilia, please don’t do this, we’re friends!” 
“Lies!” he hisses. “You cannot sway my mind, mortal, with your feeble magic. I hold no familiarity for you, nor shall I ever.” His lip curls, nose wrinkling as if smelling something foul. “I will take great pleasure in crushing the bones in your body until they are dust to be scattered by the wind. It seems only fitting for a human spy who has made it so far behind our barricade.” 
Oh, Sevens, he was serious. 
“Wait, wait, wait, please—!”
“Begging won’t save your life, worm.”
“Let me explain—”
“You tiresome, incompetent creature, I demand you cease this incessant—”
“—I’m from the future!”
It shouldn’t have worked, but my frantic cry made him hesitate. Maybe it was my clothes—the uniform skirt I had sewn looked out of place compared to Lilia’s armor—or my hair. Or maybe, just maybe, Lilia sensed something was off about my arrival the whole time. 
My knowledge of Lilia's time as General in Meleanor's army was limited, a vague impression left from a magic induced coma. But it was nearly impossible to deny the facts as they were shoved right in my face. (Err, against my neck?)
Somehow, Crowley's spell had backfired and not taken me back home to my dimension, but into the past.
Lilia braced his arm next to my head, his long hair forming a curtain around our faces. His nose is inches from mine, but I feel no comfort in the proximity. “Talk. Before I grow tired and find something else to occupy that mouth.”
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Lilia’s thick cock rams down my throat mercilessly. I grip his thighs, allowing the fae to use my mouth as he pleases. From above, he grunted, baring his sharp teeth like a predator snarling. Globs of spit and drool dribbled past my lips and down my chin, splashing to the dirt below. The thick leather straps of his armor gave away to my nails as I dug them deep, allowing Lilia to use me as he pleased. My throat burned from the harsh, stuttering movements of his hips. He fucked my face so hard it was murderous as if he were trying to make up for not beheading me before.
Yet another stamp on that infernal bingo card—but I can’t say I hate this one.
I would have been incredibly embarrassed at my gagging noises if the burning between my legs had not taken precedence. My eyes roll back, briefly catching a glimpse of the General’s ecstasy-clouded expression. His pink lips parted in a silent gasp, gaze raised to the heavens. 
Abruptly, Lilia pulls out and begins fisting his cock. His movements are furious as he hunches over. “I’m going to smear that filthy human expression with my seed—paint you white, since I can't paint you red. Maybe I'll leave you like that, so your brethren can see your betrayal written across that pretty little face. Mmm, just like this.” 
I close my eyes just in time for thick, hot spurts of Lilia’s cum sprayed over my face. My knees trembled, and I stifled a moan between my teeth and tongue.
Lilia wasn’t done.
He pushes me, and I fall into the mossy underbrush. Lilia takes my knees and peels them apart, staring at the feeble scrap of cloth, preserving what little dignity I have left. I’m trembling again, fixated on the sheer size of Lilia’s hand as it practically swallows my thigh in his massive grip. 
“How pathetic,” he coos. Lilia drags one finger down my thigh, ghosting the hemline of my panties. “You’re drenched.” He touches the mound of my pelvis before hooking his index finger around the gusset and prying it aside. “Never have I seen a human so eager. The rest of your race would be dumbfounded to know their kinsmen loved choking on faerie cock.”
I bite my lip, a blush burning my cheeks. The cold forest air kissed my exposed skin, but I felt none of it. Only the intense searing sensation of General Vanrouge’s stare, his slitted pupils sharp like knives. His digits danced across my lips, collecting slick, teasing my poor throbbing core. 
“Ah, but you said we would be friends in this future. Pupils.” Lilia snickers, brushing against my clit. “Perhaps it’s not so strange after all. Perhaps you let me have my way with you as much as I’d like—like the sweet, foolish girl you are.”
Lilia crawled up my body, reminiscent of the one he’d had me at not so long ago. Only, this time, I didn’t need a sword to my neck to keep me in place. Lilia sunk two fingers knuckle-deep inside my pussy, abating that hollow feeling inside. 
“General,” I moan.
He chuckles again and licks a broad stripe across my cheek. He surges forward, curling his fingers at the same instant our lips meet. My mouth opens, but Lilia swallows the cry. He snaked his tongue into my mouth, pushing a copious amount of his cum for me to taste. It passes between us until I swallow it, painfully aware of every second it seeps down my insides. He pulls away too soon, but not before spitting on me for good measure. It lands in my mouth, still agape and from panting. 
“Such a cute, little faerie whore. It’s almost endearing.” Lilia spreads the fingers he’s buried inside my cunt, and it’s magnificent. He’s so deep, his slender digits pressing into spots I could never dream of touching. “I ought to fuck you open, now. That’s what you want, isn’t it, pretty one? I can only imagine how this hot little hole of yours will squeeze me.” Lilia slips his fingers from my cunt, only to deliver a sharp smack to my clit. “If there’s one thing that comes from your hellish future, I’m glad to know I shall have a tight cunt to warm me, even if it is a human’s.”
I could correct him. I probably should. But the instant his swollen cockhead breaches my pussy, all coherent thought dissipates into a lusty puff of smoke.
I'll never be able to look Lilia in the eye again if I ever get back.
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drakorn · 10 days ago
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Rewriting Veilguard Part 5 - The Antivan Crows
Rewriting Veilguard Part 4 - The Veil Jumpers
Disclaimer: I don't hate the game, I actually think it's quite great given the development hell Bioware went through in those 10 years. This is more of a hypothetical universe where there was less of that behind the scenes drama. Just a fun writing exercise.
Writing an Origin Story Mission for the Antivan Crows
The Antivan Crows might be the one faction next to the Grey Wardens of whom we know the most about. They’re hired assassins, cold and brutal and calculating. They recruit children and mercilessly raise them to be killers. The Crow training involves killing your own peers to emerge as the victor. They keep a prison off the coast of Antiva City, where they hold people for “fun and torture”. The life of a Crow is rewarding, true, but it is also filled with darkness and a lot of blood. With all this canonical info established, we can confidently say that the Antivan Crows, while undoubtedly resourceful and clever, are not very nice people.
So why are the Antivan Crows in Veilguard so nice?
When I pictured the Antivan Crows before DAV released, “idealistic freedom fighters” wasn’t exactly what I thought of. Yet this is their entire role in the game, slightly controversial freedom fighters who fight against impossible odds.
Well, as you’ve seen with my takes on the Shadow Dragons, the Grey Wardens, and the Veil Jumpers in earlier posts, such a depiction can make sense if you just take your time to explain it in the lore. Why would the Crows suddenly be so much more of a force for good than they were in the other games? This, along with many other questions, shall be answered in just a tiny moment.
This is my take on a potential Antivan Crow origin story. Have fun!
Creating Rook
So, for the fourth time (wow we’re really stuck in that starting phase, are we), we press the start button and listen to Varric’s narration introducing the general state of Northern Thedas. This time, we pick the Antivan Crows as our faction and get this as our little intro blurb:
“You are an Antivan Crow. Swift knives in the dark, the Crows are ruthless assassins, both respected and feared. Some see them as nothing but cold-blooded killers, others as Antiva’s shadowy protectors who hold the nation’s true power. As a member of house de Riva, now a full-fledged Crow, you are summoned to take part in a secretive Crow operation in the occupied Treviso. Your first true contract is waiting for you. But are you worthy of fulfilling it? Are your skills, and your blades, sharp enough?”
Straight off the bat, of all the factions in this game, the Antivan Crows have the absolute easiest way to explain the last name applying to all races. House de Riva is simply the last name all crows belonging to that house choose. It’s just the way it is, no matter what race you are or where you came from. The question is: how exactly did Rook join the Crows?
Well, here’s where we’ll tap into the organisation’s more controversial and darker side. Here we go:
If de Riva is a human, they will have been bought from a poor family as a child, their parents giving them away just so they could have some coin again.
If de Riva is an elf, they will have been bought from Treviso’s Alienage for much the same reasons. In fact, the Crows have a habit of recruiting elves into their ranks because they tend to make the best assassins.
If de Riva is a dwarf, they were picked up as a child beggar in the streets, as their surface dwarf family likely died in some way.
If de Riva is a Qunari, they were taken in as the sole survivor of a group of Tal-Vashoth who sought to escape further inland from the Qun.
The Crows don’t really care about race or status when it comes to recruitment. But no matter who they recruit, the training starts in their childhood and lasts all the way until Crow membership. It’s tough and brutal. And we need to reflect that, guys, Thedas is not a friendly place. Especially in the North. Especially at this time.
In all four cases, Viago, who is now the Fifth Talon and leader of House de Riva, took us in personally and often trained us himself, sometimes along with Andaratei “Teia, please” Cantori. They are, for the lack of a better word, the closest thing to parental substitutes we’re going to get. And we’re going to make this amusing because Viago relentlessly and mercilessly throwing shade at us while secretly carrying some level of fondness is a very very engaging dynamic.
For the sake of this playthrough, let’s go with something a little more unusual and pick a Qunari rogue.
Once we’ve finalised our de Riva, we press the start button and Varric continues his narration. And we get to learn a little bit more about the actual state of the Crows by the time we begin the game: First Talon Caterina Dellamorte called upon a special gathering of Crows in the city of Treviso, the organisation’s ancestral home, which is now being occupied by the Antaam, but not the official branch. This is one of those units that broke off from the Arishok, who is still waging war against Tevinter. This particular unit is led by a warlord called The Butcher. To ensure the liberation of Treviso, Caterina called upon as many members of the Antivan Crows as possible. House Dellamorte, House de Riva, House Cantori, and House Valisti, are now leading an underground fighting force against the Antaam, willing to use their skills to free Antiva.
So you see, we’re still including the freedom fighter angle because it certainly does make sense for the Crows to go against the Antaam. But we provided just a little bit of an additional explanation. Caterina wants the more idealistic and spirited members of the Crows to join the effort because this is something personal. And she needs those who care about a little more than coin and death to accomplish this. The remaining Crows are still out there, doing contracts, being cold and callous. But now, we give an in-universe reason for things to be the way they are presented to us.
Well then, now that we have created our de Riva, let us jump into the game!
The Treviso Chantry
Instead of using the Cantori Diamond, our Crow base is going to be something a little different. Let’s actually implement the lore and explore some history. The original Antivan Crows started out as monks in the area surrounding Treviso. In the years since, Treviso has been nearly destroyed on two occasions and a lot of rebuilding had to be done. So, instead of setting the main crow base in the HQ of one of their houses, we’re gonna set it in Treviso’s Chantry.
The idea is that Treviso’s Chantry is the ancestral base from which the Crows fully operated. But Treviso has been rebuilt so many times that people just forgot that. Well, not really forgotten, the place just looks utterly unrecognisable to its earliest incarnation.
Well, Treviso’s Chantry is grand and beautiful now, think of places like Notre Dame. And just like Notre Dame, it has its secrets. In the years since the last rebuilding, the Crows took the Chantry and secretly kept expanding on it, using House Valisti as the main financial donor. The upper areas were entirely turned into a maze-like collection of rooms that can house a multitude of Crows at once. And the walls were given tons of secret passages and hidden doors. This is the main Crow base, and only fully initiated Crows know how to access it. It is also, most importantly, the one base where Crows are bound by their code not to harm each other. We know how much literal backstabbing these guys get up to, so we absolutely need to establish some kind of neutral ground. Still, ever since the incident in Tevinter Nights, where most Talons met a most gruesome end, there is tension in the air.
We arrive to the Treviso Chantry by rooftop, accompanied by our Talon, Viago de Riva, as well as all the de Riva Crows that were able to join this effort. Like shadows, we traverse the rooftops and ascend the Chantry’s walls like a group of Ezio Auditores. We find some secret passage in the walls and enter the Crows’ main base.
Right off the bat, Viago pulls us aside and tells us to be on our absolute best behaviour. Four of the Crows’ leading houses are gathered here, and we will not tarnish de Riva’s reputation by being ourselves. Classic Viago.
The Nest
The wide attic areas of the Chantry are referred to as “The Nest”, for this is still where the first Crows “hatched”. And now, it’s used as a massive gathering place, including its own opera house-style auditorium. This Chantry is just the definition of extra but that’s what the Crows are about.
As we walk towards our gathering, we can have a few encounters:
We can encounter Viago and Teia Cantori exchanging in something that is obviously flirting to the knowing eye and ear but can very well be masqueraded as diplomatic conversation. Viago also produces his snake…EMIL, EMIL the snake, not…no! His pet snake, which he got in Tevinter Nights. If you join the conversation, Teia acts absolutely delighted to see you and greets you like the cool and loving mom she is, whereas Viago stares daggers into your soul for daring to interrupt this moment.
We meet Antonio Valisti, the current head of House Valisti. He is both a Merchant Prince and Talon, a very powerful combination. He eyes us up and down and seems even more critical of our very air than Viago, and we thought that wasn’t at all possible.
We find some notes and letters regarding Crows being sent out to hunt down Zevran, who is still on the run. He has stopped waging his one-man-army war against the Crows and is currently lying low.
We can overhear a conversation between Jacobus, his cousin Dareth, and Heir, talking about Jacobus’ training and what it truly means to be an Antivan Crow.
NOTE: In this World State, Zevran is still alive.
We meet Illario Dellamorte and can engage him in polite but tense conversation. He seems to still not having gotten over the death of his cousin, Lucanis, the Demon of Vyrantium. He can only hope to keep his memory alive by being the deadliest assassin he could possibly be. We can be friendly to him here, and he seems to appreciate the sentiment.
The Great Contract
We settle down in the Nest’s auditorium and Caterina Dellamorte, First Talon, steps on stage, and we immediately feel the sheer deadly power and authority oozing from her, despite, or maybe because of, her age. She delivers a short and deadly speech on how this broken part of the Antaam invaded Treviso, led by a man called Daathrata, or “The Butcher”, as the locals refer to him.
Caterina announces that all Crows gathered here have a contract now. All four houses have been bought to assassinate the Butcher and as many of his Antaam soldiers as possible. And who is the client with so much coin for this contract? Well, we’ll meet them later.
Caterina orders the Crows to rest up and prepare, they will be carrying out their plan soon enough. A few select Crows will be chosen to accompany their Talons and meet the client in another location.
Later that evening, Viago approaches us, declaring that he’s chosen us to accompany him to the meeting with the client. He’s incredibly grumpy and stiff about it and tells us to better not make him regret it. At the same time, he concedes that out of all the Crows of House de Riva, we have shown some of the most promise.
Meeting the Client
Heading to meet the client is, as with all Crow-related stuff, shadowy business. So we’re not going to take the streets but jump across the rooftops once again. While we do that, we can see a few things happening below:
We see members of the Antaam dragging a mage out of a house to expose them to the qamek treatment. The Butcher hates mages. Nothing we can do for this one, we must remain in the shadows for now. Even if we want to help them, Viago holds us back. There are too many eyes.
We see the citizens of Treviso being lined up for overall inspection by the Antaam, to see how obedient they are under the new regime.
Eventually, we arrive at our meeting spot: Café Pietra. There, we meet Rayan Ivenci, the Governor of Treviso. Now, for Ivenci, I have something slightly different and more elaborate planned than what we see of them in the game.
Turns out, Ivenci is the one who made the contract and paid the Crows to assassinate the Butcher. Antivan nobles do have a well-established history of hiring the Crows to take out political targets, so this is no exception. Since Ivenci is such a wealthy person, they had enough coin to hire all four houses currently active in Treviso.
If we’re feeling bold, we can even mention how superficial this contract is given that we’re planning to kill the Butcher anyway. Viago gives us another death glare and reminds us of the Crows’ ways of operating. A contract belongs in our very DNA.
Ivenci explains their plan to us: They’re planning on negotiating peace talks with Daathrata onboard his Dreadnought, which is docking just outside the Drowned District. And while they’re having these talks, the Crows can swoop in and perform their assassination. They mention that Daathrata’s main reason for breaking away from the Arishok’s Antaam is that, despite his cruelty, the Butcher doesn’t want to fight in a senseless war against Tevinter. Peace talks are, therefore, not outside the realm of possibility with him.
Our plan put in motion, Ivenci departs and the Crows prepare to gather all forces for a massive descent upon the Qunari.
An Old Friend
When Antonio, Caterina, and the Crows they brought along, leave, Viago and Teia remain. When we ask Viago why we’re not leaving, he says that we still have another meeting to attend. Another contract for after this one is over, so to say.
At this moment, Varric Tethras joins us at the table, with a mug of mulled wine, as he needs that alcohol and coffee is just not his thing. Viago and Teia obviously know him from The Missing so that connection is established. Varric greets us and we probably know him very well, as pretty much everyone knows Varric thanks to his books. And being the Viscount of Kirkwall and serving the Inquisition years ago obviously added to his reputation.
Viago and Teia start talking to him about the contract they have been discussing for a while now. We, as players, obviously can already guess what it is, but the language is kept very vague right now. At this point, de Riva may begin to wonder why exactly we were allowed to stay with two Talons discussing a contract with a new client.
Turns out, Viago has proposed we join Varric and carry out the contract. Even though he has his absolute grievances with us and thinks we’re an annoying baby, he can’t deny our skills.
Varric looks us over and we can have our first little conversation with him, in which we express our interest and curiosity in this strange new contract. This first talk is going to determine partially how Varric perceives us. We can be strictly business-like, as a classic Crow like Viago would behave, or perhaps be a little more idealistic towards the Antaam situation, like Teia. In any case, the meeting ends with Varric stating he’ll wait for us after the Butcher contract is done. Viago barks at us to leave and so we do.
Preparations
Back at the Nest, we have a final strategic meeting with the four houses and determine exactly what everyone will be doing. Here’s the plan: House Valisti, since they have the most and longest experience with Daathrata by having fought him the longest, will go straight for the Butcher’s Dreadnought. House Dellamorte will handle the Antaam in the streets of Treviso. Houses Cantori and de Riva will take care of the Drowned District. Now, we have a first choice presented before us, as there are two different sections of the Drowned District we can focus on:
The Prison Camps: We focus on Antaam’s prison camps and liberate those the Qunari have captured. It’s not entirely out of the goodness of our hearts; the Crows need a win in the public’s perception of them to show that they are both a group to be feared and relied upon.
The Military Camps: We focus on the Antaam’s direct military camps and fracture their overall defences and might. This will weaken them in the long-run.
Whatever we choose is what Houses de Riva and Cantori will prioritise first. If there is still time, we shall focus on the second. While Teia is very much for liberating the prisoners, Viago wants to weaken the Antaam’s overall strength. And this is where our de Riva comes in.
NOTE: As you may have noticed, I am referring to Rook as “de Riva” throughout this write-up, for the same reasons I stated in the other background write-ups.
Well, we have already established our de Riva to be a little more on the idealistic side, so we choose the Prison Camps as our battleground. Let me make one thing perfectly clear, though: we do not actually decide this in-universe. We are a regular Crow. Teia and Viago are Talons. Sure, they could ask us for our opinion, but we don’t get the end say. We just chime in with our own opinion and sway them to this decision. In this case, we support Teia’s idea and she convinces Viago to go along with it. Viago gives us a “this is so your fault” look, but lets it go.
The Crows Descend
What follows is a cinematic of Caterina sending us all to take up positions for what is to be a great shadow battle. The idea is to not engage in open warfare but more so in a Crow way, silent and deadly.
We get a scene at the Butcher’s Dreadnought. Governor Ivenci and some of their guards await to be let on. And this Dreadnought is massive, an absolute unit of a ship, easily overshadowing everything else in the docks. The gangplank is lowered and Daathrata, the Butcher, steps out. He’s an imposing, intimidating Qunari warrior who looks like he can snap anyone in two, including other Qunari. But when he opens his mouth, he is surprisingly well-mannered and soft-spoken, which kinda makes him look even more intimidating. He guides Ivenci and their guards on board. We see Antonio and the Valisti Crows hover on the rooftops surrounding the docks, ready to strike.
At the same time, in the streets of Treviso, we see Caterina and Illario getting the Dellamorte Crows ready to ambush groups of Antaam soldiers and clear the populated areas. Caterina pulls Ilario aside and tells him this is his moment to prove himself and lets him lead the house into battle. This visibly takes aback Ilario.
Lastly, Houses de Riva and Cantori gather on the rooftops surrounding the Prison Camps in the Drowned District. There are many guards around, and even more prisoners.
Now, we get to make another choice: How exactly do we approach this? Teia suggests killing the guards quickly and quietly and then let the prisoners out. Viago, on the other hand, wants to poison the guards and let them die from their food and drink. There are some nice campfires with pots of stew around. So, do we:
Attack the guards directly and kill them as swiftly, quietly, and efficiently as possible?
Or do we poison their supplies and let them choke on their own dinner?
Well, we are still a de Riva and at this point we’ve pissed off Viago enough times. Let’s try and placate him again. We’re in the poison camp. Viago comments that finally, a shred of reason still exists in our head. Since we’re a Qunari ourselves, we now get a bit of a unique flavour to this mission: We know that this particular unit broke off from the Arishok’s Antaam, however, unlike in DAV, they did not break off from the Qun, still holding their own belief to it. As such, they still have Qunari cooks and craftsmen among them. As such, we can play a bit of dress-up: we’ll play the role of a Qunari cook and poison the food ourselves. This is where playing a Qunari really comes at an advantage for us because they won’t suspect us nearly as much as anyone else.
Viago gives us some Adder’s Kiss poison, provided by Emil, and asks us to bring back some qamek for him to study if we find any. He asks this in a bit of a nerdy way, like this is the one poison that still eludes his collection. The other Crows will hold back for the time being while we…go in alone. Mierda.
The Prison Camps
Cut to a little later. Instead of the tight, badass, and sexy Antivan Crow leather attire, we now find ourselves in a plain dress and shirt (I’m going for a feminine Qunari de Riva here). We sneak into a tent filled with cooking supplies, and either knock out, kill, or convince the actual cook to go away. Either way, we are now the cook.
We look around in the tent and find ourselves absolutely aghast at the sheer lack of flavour and variety that is Qunari food. Antivans are supposed to be a mix of Spain and Italy, but the food aspect is definitely Italian-coded. So we look around horrified and mumble something along the lines of “Mierda, no wonder they are the way they are.”
We then set about brewing some fresh stew, which we are utterly disgusted by. As an Antivan, we are used to excellent food full of rich flavour and spices. We really have to reign ourselves in to not make the stew too tasty. This is absolute torture for our poor food-loving heart. This food deserves the poison.
Now that our food has become entirely disgraceful to our standards, it’s time to deliver it to the Antaam.
There are three prison camps aligned next to each other in total, meticulously placed upon the still-standing and dry parts of the Drowned District. We have to sneak the poison into three large pots, one for each camp. As we traverse the camp, we get the following encounters:
We see some prisoners, citizens of Treviso who somehow scorned the Qunari, being tested for potential new rules in the Qun. If we pass them, the Qunari will pull us aside and order us to show some people how to cook. We can play along and actually show them some excellent cooking skills.
But we also see those who actively volunteered into the Qun. They are currently being given weapons or infrastructural jobs. They are clearly under pressure but treated exponentially better than the prisoners. Why are we showing this? Well, if you recall DA2, some people actually did join the Arishok of their own free will. We must show that not everyone actually despises the Qun, or would rather join it than be killed. In any case, it’s important to see.
Whenever we pass one of the main cages with Treviso’s citizens inside, we can try to damage the locks to allow them to escape. This, however, adds the potential consequence of some prisoners trying to make a run for it and being swiftly executed. We choose not to damage them for now.
We see a cage full of mages who were exposed to qamek. They are utterly mindless, almost tranquil, but even…worse than that. In the huge tent next to them, we find a Qunari keeping watch over the poison. We quickly kill him and hide the body, and take a few vials with us for Viago.
When we reach the main pots, something happens each time that will allow us to make some more choices:
Pot 1: Another cook is already filling it. We can either tell them to fuck off or convince them that our food is better prepared since the other tents were befallen by rodents from the canal. Yes, we saw that. We do not lie. The Qun has no lies.
Pot 2: Pot 2 is broken because someone knocked it over and is now being punished for it. We can quickly scurry around and find a new pot to fulfil our duty here.
Pot 3: Pot 3 has a more merciful Qunari captain who let some prisoners have their fill first. You see some people eagerly looking up to you, waiting for food. Dammiiiiittttt. I don’t want to kill the citizens! So do we maintain our cover or find a way around this? Since we’re playing an idealist Crow, we choose to bullshit our way out of this. We make it look like as though one of the Antaam soldiers pushed us and we dramatically let our remaining food spill on the floor. Apologies, huge apologies, we shall get a new fill. The guard is being punished.
Once all is done, we get a very Ghost of Tsushima-style scene where de Riva stands amidst the Antaam and watches the soldiers slowly succumbing to Viago’s poison, except for the third camp. And some others obviously see the poison take effect before eating anything. We quickly dash to where we left our gear. A few minutes later, the Crows descend upon the camps. We re-emerge, once again dressed in our Crow outfit. Viago and Teia join us, and Viago begrudgingly admits that yeah, we’ve actually done a satisfactory job, whereas Teia nudges him teasingly, saying that he can be proud every once in a while.
We then battle against the Antaam, with Viago, and Teia fighting by our side. We mow down those who survived the poison. And because we didn’t break the prisoners’ locks, none of them prematurely escape into an early grave.
Ambush
As soon as we start letting out the prisoners, however, something changes. Something drastic. We see a strange light out on the water and look to the Butcher’s Dreadnought, only to see it go…
BOOM
The Dreadnought fully explodes into smithereens and the debris even reaches us here. All of House Valisti was on board that ship, as well as Daathrata and Ivenci. Before we can react, however, we are suddenly ambushed by a whole new wave of Antaam soldiers. Somehow, the military camp made it here in seconds. And they begin cutting down the escaping prisoners. Mierda, maybe letting them run earlier would have been a better idea. Some would have died, yes, but not as many as right now.
We engage in another, much fiercer battle against the Antaam, but the Crows are driven back. We are not used to open warfare. Now the Qunari have the advantage. We retreat onto the walls.
From there, we see how the streets of Treviso are crawling with Antaam as well and two great Dreadnoughts sail down the river. Where did those come from? Did the Butcher suddenly gain forces? How? Why? How did he know? How…how did he know that we would be planning this? This is too calculated to be a coincidence. Viago and Teia come to the same conclusion: someone betrayed us, betrayed Treviso, betrayed us all to the Butcher. Speaking of…if the Butcher knew this, then the exploding Dreadnought was no accident either. That means he has to still be alive. Maybe we can even save Antonio.
But we also see the Dellamorte Crows struggling in the streets. Teia and Viago begin to argue on what to do next, and we can make a choice here, another big one:
Do we follow Teia and aid the Dellamortes in the streets of Treviso?
Or do we stay with Viago and pursue the Butcher and try to save Antonio and Ivenci?
Well, Viago taught us that a contract needs to be finished, no matter what. We speak out in favour of pursuing Daathrata. Viago agrees with us and Teia rallies House Cantori to help the Dellamortes in the streets. We pursue.
The Butcher
As we race along the docks and fight our way through Antaam soldiers, we are joined by Varric who asks if now’s a good time to make it an outside operation. Viago doesn’t even hesitate to let him join, and so we fight. There are so many Qunari, it’s actually insane. The Crows are way out of their depth here.
While the rest of House de Riva is fighting, we, Viago, and Varric reach the remains of the Butcher’s Dreadnought. We see the corpses of all the House Valisti Crows floating in the water or burning on the wreck. We also find Antonio, who is barely alive and severely wounded. We pull him out of the wreckage and begin patching him up.
We then explore the still-stable parts of the Dreadnought for any signs of the Butcher. Just as we’re about to give up, we see a smaller Qunari ship sailing along the docks. We see the Butcher and Ivenci on it. Well, gotta save the Governor.
Without waiting for Viago and Varric, we hurry over the burning debris, acrobatically swing ourselves back onto the docks, shoot along the piers, jump over gaps and missing parts, see another ship, a fishing vessel, sticking out far enough that we could maybe risk it, quickly make our way there, jump on the boat, climb the mast, the Qunari vessel is almost past us, unsheathe our daggers, SWING OURSELVES FROM THE MAST, DESCEND UPON THE BUTCHER, EZIO AUDITORE!!!
Whoom
We are suddenly stopped, mid-air, as Ivenci stops us with magic, blood magic even; freezing our blood so that our fall is halted. The Butcher calmly turns around and gazes us straight in the eyes. Then, he slowly unsheathes a dagger coated in qamek, and slowly, almost sadistically so, stabs us in the chest.
Ivenci lets their spell go and we drop on deck, our vision blurring, our thoughts dissolving as the qamek spreads through our body. Ivenci is the traitor. But…he made the contract…why would he…
Ivenci looks at us with pure hatred, something unexpected. He looks even more into this situation than Daathrata. Slowly, we fight back and rise to our feet. The Butcher sighs and engages us in battle.
What follows is a very blurry, very short boss battle that basically ends with the Butcher stabbing us again and sending us into the waters of Rialto Bay.
Awakening
We wake up back at the Nest with Viago nursing us back to health. Fortunately, the qamek on that dagger was but a small dosis, so we are certain to recover soon. It’s always good to start acquiring immunity. Viago knows what he’s talking about. As we look at him, we see, for the first time that he’s genuinely worried about us. And no condescension hides that.
He explains that Varric found us floating in the water and dragged us out. If it weren’t for him, we’d be dead. He awaits us at the café when we’re ready. Ready for what? Well, for the other contract. Are you fucking kidding, Viago? Viago dismisses our incredulity by reminding us that contracts are what we’re all about. He asks us what happened with the Butcher. We come back to our senses and tell him that we need to tell something to the other Talons. Viago understands and allows us to get ready.
Slightly slow and wounded, bandaged, we make our way to the auditorium. Teia meets us on the way, glad to see us alive. We see that Viago and Teia are the only unscathed Talons. Caterina is heavily bandaged, as is Antonio. Illario is taking over House Dellamorte while Caterina recovers. Antonio is the only Valisti left. But at least, thanks to us, there is still a Valisti left.
We tell them that Ivenci betrayed us. That they’re a blood mage. That they and Daathrata work together. The Crows are furious, especially Antonio, who wants vengeance for his house. But they also commend de Riva for, albeit while not having finished the contract, at least getting this valuable intelligence.
After the meeting, Viago and Teia take us aside and prompt us to return to the café now. Ivenci and Daathrata think we’re dead and that the other Crows did not receive information on the betrayal. Let us keep it this way for now. Us disappearing out of Treviso on another contract with Varric is a perfect opportunity. We ask what this contract is about but they still won’t say, stating that it’s best for Varric to explain it himself.
Meeting Varric
We meet Varric back at the Café Pietra. He’s glad to see we’re alright and if we’re ready to depart. On our way here we saw that Treviso is currently in a bit of a turmoil. It’ll take a while before all of this is settled. And now, we have two main targets to kill here: Daathrata and Ivenci.
Yeah, the fact that Ivenci’s a traitor is a huge twist in DAV, but I think there is an interesting story to be told if we know they’re the traitor from the get-go. Now, we can wonder why they did it.
We ask Varric what this other contract is about, and Varric says he’ll tell us when we’re way out of Treviso. We can get a little impatient and ask what kind of target this could possibly be that it requires such secrecy. Are we hunting a god or something? Viago and Teia exchange some glances, but we don’t notice.
Instead, Varric encourages us to drop the de Riva name for now, as the Crows…do have a reputation. Best if we just come across as a normal Tal-Vashoth. We need a new name.
We lean back and think. Then, we simply say “Rook.” Varric raises an eyebrow. We shrug. “Close enough to a Crow while still sounding different enough.” Viago visibly and audibly groans in the background. “That’s not what secret mean-“ Teia can’t help but laugh. Varric smirks. “And the strongest piece on the chessboard. I like it.”
Leaving Treviso
Before we leave Treviso, we can have some final talk with Viago and Teia. We do get a little bit more insight into how both of them kinda raised us while still keeping us as a part of House de Riva. They are basically our parental figures, which is super rare among the Crows unless you are blood-related. Even though Viago demeans us all the time, it’s clear he has grown to somehow care for us. While Teia gives us a lot of advice for how to handle ourselves on the road away from all the Crows, Viago simply says something along the lines of “Get this contract done.” At this point, we exasperatedly ask “Mierda, WHO is the target???” and Varric leads us out of the café.
What follows is a cinematic of Rook and Varric sneaking through the streets of Treviso, dodging Antaam patrols. Once we’re out, we take a look back at the huge old Chantry. Still confused on what this is all about, we turn away and follow Varric into the unknown.
And there we have it! A potential origin story for the Antivan Crows! It’s getting really fun doing these. I’m very much enjoying it, and I hope you are too. Next time, we shall head to the Necropolis and explore a potential origin story for the Mourn Watchers. Stay tuned!
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imtryingbuck · 7 months ago
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The red means I love you
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~ gif not mine credit to owner ~
Pairing: Vampire!Bucky Barnes x Human!fem!Reader
Summary: you’re a human who fell in love with a vampire named Bucky
Word count: 1,811
Warnings: angst? fluff. an injured fox. brief mention of mercy killing an animal. mentions of blood. swearing.
A/N: thankyou for the request @loki-laufeyson68, I hope you like it❤️ and thank you @buckys-wintersoldier for proofreading for me❤️
Masterlist
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When Bucky told you that he was a vampire you burst out laughing. There was no such thing as vampires or werewolves. Witches, yes, but vampires absolutely not. He sat there with an amused expression on his face, his left eyebrow raised waiting for you to stop laughing, once your laughter died down he showed you his fangs, you watched as his eyes turned black and that convinced you, honestly.
He promised he wasn’t going to hurt you, told you that he couldn’t bring himself to do that to you and that he only told you the truth because he couldn’t keep lying to you about who he really was. “I understand if you want to leave Y/n.”
That was nine years ago, and here you were still by his side.
Bucky never pressured you into doing anything you didn’t want to do, you never helped him find food nor did you ever watch him feed, he protected you from the other vampires. Bucky was always so sweet and kind to you, always driving you to work and was always there ten minutes before your shift ended to take you home, when the weather was nice you’d both take a long walk arm in arm and he’d tell you what buildings use to be what when he was young and human. Every Monday you’d wake up to find a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers on your bedside table, date night every Friday - he made forced your manger to give you the day off. He was always so caring, loving and generous when it came to you.
He had lived such a long life and within that life he had loved before but none of them compared to the love he had for you, not even in the slightest. He loved absolutely everything about you, even when you were on your period and you was being a grouchy monster - as he so affectionately called you. Bucky knew that he would happily move heaven and earth if you asked, he would move mountains just to see you smile, he would take the biggest brightest star from the dark sky and give it to you.
Despite him being so madly in love with you and knowing you felt the same for him there was always a painful tug in his heart every year on your birthday. You were human. Humans die. Which meant you were going to leave him one day. Bucky wouldn’t turn you into what he was because you never expressed an interest, you never asked him to turn you, so he didn’t even though he knew he’d lose you one day, and he knew that when that day comes his soul would be broken.
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“Doll?” He had just got back from dealing with some rogue vampires who were causing chaos in the city with Steve by his side. A fresh bouquet of flowers in his hand as he searched the house for you.
“Buck? I’m in the garden!” His tired face lit up at hearing your voice.
Making his way to where you were he couldn’t help but laugh at seeing you on your hands and knees with your face pressed up to the hole in the side of the wooden shed. “What are you doing pretty girl?”
“I think there’s a fox in there but I don’t want to open the door just yet incase it runs out.”
“There’s definitely something in there, I can hear its heartbeat.”
“Do you think it’s a fox? Is it nice?”
“I can’t tell baby” he puts the flowers down on the table and moves over to where you were and gets down on his knees. “I know it’s scared though.”
“No, no little fox don’t be afraid I’m not going to hurt you.” Bucky had to bite his lip when you put your face back to the hole and spoke to the creature inside.
“Baby I… I don’t think it understands you.”
“It will, it will know I’m friendly.” Leaning on your knees you use Bucky’s shoulder to help you stand. “I’m going in. If I scream, well… I love you.”
-Always so dramatic- he thought to himself but nodded and winked at you. “You’ve got this doll, I love you too.”
Unlocking the shed you took a deep breath in and opened the door, eyes instantly locking eyes with a terrified little fox. Moving so slowly with your hands up you spoke to the little thing, telling it that you wasn’t going to hurt it. The little creature let you stroke it and eventually let you pick it up.
“Buck, it’s got an injured leg.” You whispered knowing that he could hear you due to his enhanced hearing. “We need to take it to the vet.”
“Baby, they would just put him down.” He could hear the sob that tried to suppress. “B-but we can look after it ourselves.”
“C-can we?”
“Of course my doll, bring the little one out and we’ll get it into the house.”
Bucky couldn’t actually believe that he was holding a fox in his hands as you wrapped a bandage around its leg after cleaning up the wound, before you if he ever came across a badly injured animal he would kill it out of mercy, he hated seeing an animal suffer. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it to this poor little one not with the way you were looking and treating it.
“Buck, Bushy’s fell asleep in your arms.”
“Have you named it?”
“Yeah, everyone needs a name.” The smile you had on your face had him smiling too.
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A week later Bushys leg was healing nicely and would follow you and Bucky around where ever you’d go around the house. Bucky couldn’t lie if asked if he had grown attached to Bushy, he was going to be sad when it was time to release him back outside.
Bucky gave you a long passionate kiss and stroked Bushys head before he left the house, rogue vampires were back and it was Steve and his job to get rid of them.
“It’s just me and you now kiddo, wanna watch a film?”
Curled up on the couch with a fluffy blanket and Bushy you put on your favourite show, obviously telling the little fox all about the characters and which ones were your favourites - not like the little guy understood a single word you were saying. You were startled awake when a bang came from the panty, not seeing the young fox near by you assumed it was him getting into the snacks, stopping in your tracks when you heard a groan.
“Bushy?” You called out breathing a breath of relief when he came running towards you.
You screamed when you went around the corner, seeing Bucky leaning heavily against the fridge he kept in the pantry - where he stored blood bags. He was covered in blood. “B-Bucky?”
“D-didn’t mean t-to wake you doll.”
“What happened?”
“N-no blood left.”
“Okay? But what happened to you?” You tried to move forward towards him but he held his hand up.
“I-I… baby I need blood an-and I don’t have-“
“Have mine.” Gulping when he snapped his head up, looking you in the eyes. His own turning darker. “Y-you can drink some of my blood Bucky.”
You could see the struggle he was having, on one hand he really needed to feed so he could heal but on the other hand he couldn’t do that to you regardless of how many times he wondered how you tasted. Shaking his head he knew he couldn’t do it.
“It’s okay, I trust you Buck. You need to eat and there’s no-“
“I can’t doll. I-I won’t.” He stutters, shaking his head even more.
“You can and you will. Please Buck!”
It took nearly half an hour to convince Bucky to drink from you, leading him into the living room and onto the couch you tried to get your heart rate to slow down knowing he could hear it. He kept asking if you were sure, you silenced him by raising your arm for him to take it in his mouth.
Now you know why people always screamed in the movies when they get bit by a vampire, because fuck it hurts so badly!
The longer he had his fangs dug into your flesh the more it hurt, and it didn’t help that you started to feel lightheaded. You looked towards Bushy who was watching the scene infront of him looking nervously between you and Bucky, then everything went black.
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Every part of your body ached as you came around, before you opened your eyes you felt his fingers run through your hair, and all you could hear is Bucky’s soft voice singing.
‘Cause my insides are red
And yours are too
And the red on my face
Is matching you
And goodness you're bleeding
What a wonderful feeling
You're down and you're pleading
My head is just reeling
The red means I love you
“B-Bucky?”
“Doll? Oh thank goodness, just take it slow baby.” He helps you sit up and that’s when you realise that you’re in bed.
“Wh-what happened?”
“I- baby I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean to b-but you were-I killed you an-and you nearly died because I didn’t stop-“
“It’s okay Buck, it’s okay I promise.” You cut his ramble off and hold his hand.
“No doll you don’t understand, you-you’re a vampire now.”
You sighed and nodded, it wasn’t what you wanted but at least you could be with Bucky forever now, just like he always promised you. “I know Buck and that’s okay.”
“I just couldn’t let you die, I’m sorry, I know it’s selfish but I don’t want to be without you doll.”
Bucky couldn’t get the image of you slumping over, your skin going paler than your usual complexion, you not responding. He could hear your once lively heart beat fade and he panicked, he apologised over and over before piercing your neck with his fangs. For the first time since he was turned into a vampire he prayed, praying that you would forgive him but most importantly that you would wake up.
“Buck?” You say his name as you watch as he twists the ring on your finger, the same one he brought you a year into your relationship - he was just walking down the street when a shiny silver ring caught his eye, he paid for it instantly and when you asked why, he told you that he saw it and thought of you so he brought it.
“Yes doll.”
“Was you singing to me?”
“No…” He scoffed shaking his head.
“Yes you was.” You sing to him, Bucky smiled shyly nodding.
“I love you.”
“I love you too Buck.”
“Forever?”
“Forever.”
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Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77
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anantaru · 1 year ago
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DAY 26 — DEGRADATION
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kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
𖧡 — including — jing yuan, luocha
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, degradation, very mean, very rough as well, slight power imbalance
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𖧡 — JING YUAN
"i can't believe you let yourself get fucked like that,"
jing yuan utters down on you, "yet you feel so disgustingly good," and his soulless eyes that look anything else but friendly, are pin pointed on your every reactions— although the moment that you clench around his length due to his words setting a literal fire on your wet sex, he holds back any shameful sounds for a good minute, yet his uneven breathing was giving it away, the general was enjoying this. 
you finally flutter your lashes up to look up at him, your expression drenched in a haze with his own remaining flat and distant— and a slight scare claws at your gut when jing yuan curls his palms under your knees to place them on top of his shoulders before looming his complete weight forward, on the brink of splitting you in half.
it stung a little, yes, but at least he allowed to you to take a good, deep breather before he continued— you do have to admit to yourself that it was rare for jing yuan to treat you like a human, or without any belittling undertones at that.
situations like these in particular had become a comfortably familiar norm of your usual reunions— it would always start with jing yuan calling you to his bedroom, next commanding you to remove your garments for him before he'd let you lay down on his bed, with no words said out loud, but you felt the connection in the pit of your stomach, a warm, coming-to-life tingle that couldn't be a made up or remain an imagination.
despite the fact that he fucked you senselessly, once enticed in your hot cunt he'd never stop until he hasn't filled you up with his seed at least three times in a row, and you welcome him, dearly, his fingers holding over the curve of your hips as you grind yourself into his movements, the repeated clench of your walls around his cock making him twitch violently through your ringing sensitivity.
jing yuan hung his head low and let out a heavy sigh before resting it against your forehead, rewarding you with a small smile, which was new to you but you didn't mind— right now, your body was under a lot of overloaded pleasure and a comforting flood of a hot sensation crawled up your entire body, tears and drool coveting your entire face.
"at least— ugh, you're useful for this," jing yuan mutters a curse before he fucked you harder, never releasing his cock from your tight confines until you're gritting your teeth together, forced to being pushed back against the wet mattress with both of his hands clasping around the headboard and keeping you how he wanted you to, pounding into you with increasingly harder thrusts that you're screaming at the top of your lungs, your swollen pussy feeling like on fire every time you met his cock bulging inside your cunt.
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𖧡 — LUOCHA
"don't you dare waste my time," a crumbling moan flutters from your parted lips as luocha first moves his hips into you— and the moment you feel him plummet into you, you're so far gone, he didn't even try properly and you're at his mercy, as always, showing the painful truth of the situation.
"all you can think about is this, yeah?" he spat and he could only imagine how hurt you felt by his words as you frantically ache for him to fuck you already, "—how revolting,"
luocha wasn't necessarily mean to you, although he wasn't nice either. sure, he knew his way around your body and how to make you scream his name just when he felt like it, but there wasn't an inch of tenderness nor passion, it was almost like a business proposal— you show up, undress yourself and fuck him. while you do not mind and consented to this kind of relationship, you also wouldn't challenge him on changing his ways with you, with the power he supposedly held being wildly frightening to outside spectators.
even though you were burning up from being caged under a much larger person, your fear of being unable to breathe steadily was cut off by the feeling of luocha biting down on your lower lip and nibbling on the flesh as he continued thrusting into the almost suffocating heat inside of your trembling frame. the man growls in an equal amount of pain and pleasure when he felt your blunt nails dig into the flesh of his shoulders and paint him with red marks that manifested all over the scratched open skin.
his thrusts, keeping them fast and shallow, while luocha's eyes, were distant and barely looking at you— but he does enjoy it, you were a firm believer in that, there was no way he'd still be this hard and aching if he wouldn't like you at least a little bit, obviously ignoring all the times where he had been calling you filthy words out loud.
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��2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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cherryfennec · 1 year ago
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On the topic of Power-Ups, let's talk Fire Flower (personal headcanons under cut)!
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The Fire Flower is one of, if not, the most known Power-Up from what I've seen. Even though I'm quite a fan of it myself I'll admit I never thought too much about it. So after giving it a good thought here's what I got:
General headcanons;
Fire Flowers are very adaptable plants, however they naturally originate from the Darklands, which so happen to be where they grow the most. The heat eminating from the magma is perfect for them to thrive during the initial stages. Since wielding fire isn't too rare of an ability for Koopas (more specifically some of the subspecies of Koopas) they're mostly perceived as weeds, so it's not much of an issue if someone plucks them. Unless you're an outsider. Something might be considered useless but it's a problem if the enemy wants to exploit it. Because of this a bunch of the main fields will have patrols just in case a mustachioed human, or two, happen to be sent to collect a supply. They usually consist of Fire Bros who protect and even tend to the flowers. Rumours say that with some luck it's possible for a normal Koopa to inherit fire abilities after being exposed to a Fire Flower for extended periods of time but it hasn't been scientifically confirmed.
The Fire Flower is a multiple use Power-Up. Once activated it lends it's energy to a single user, then proceeds to hibernate and slowly regain heat overtime. The process can be sped up exponentially by placing the flower near a heat source like lava or a fireplace.
Mario and Luigi specific headcanons;
It took some time for the brothers to initially get hang of releasing energy without overdoing it. It's easier to ignite something, rather than put it out. Eventually with some guidance from friendly koopas they managed to become respectable fire users. That is until the events of Superstar Saga happened.
For Mario, getting the Firebrand only enhanced his abilities. Focusing energy became very easy, a second nature even. Shaping fire, directing it, managing it's temperature. Easy peasy for a guy like him! It wasn't a suprise that the Fire Flower quickly became his favourite to use soon after. When used with the technique he can truly show off his mastery over the element!
Luigi however... got it rough. The Thunderhand, notable for giving it's user affinity for manipulating electricy, drastically reverted his progress. These two elements just unfortunately don't mix. The fire he started to produce was unpredictable and unstable. There was no guarantee if it'll fly in the right direction nor how much power it'll pack. He's been practicing ever since to not accidentally go overboard.
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Mario's fire tips and tricks aren't helping too much but at least he's trying.
Some of the stuff I said here could change with me adding details in the future but right now this is the general idea. It might not be completely original but the thought of making this seemed fun. Thank you to whoever read this, I hope the blocks of text were understandable!
In conclusion the Fire Flower is one of the more reliable, common and useful Power-Ups. Getting a good amount of them can be a hassle but in the long run it's worth it, especially if they're used to make your own farm. It's uses can range from warming up the house to battling evil. Mario is the "fire master" of the group and Luigi, with the peculiar way magic reacts to him, is a walking proof of the statement: "elements don't mix".
Few bonus headcanons!
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hiael · 1 year ago
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Obey Me! Headcanons that the voices in my head created
The pact marks don't affect the MC in general, but when they are used, the color of the user's eyes tends to change to the color of sin (when Solomon sees the color of his eyes changing to the colors of his brothers, geez, jealousy boy), it happens more often than you think and in addition to the marks on the body, it's a reminder to everyone that you're connected with the lords of hell.
Human beings can speak very quickly and neither demons nor angels can keep up when this happens. Scientifically, we talk fast because of anxiety, nervousness, excitement or the communication conditions that the environment provides. Solomon and MC talking about something they thought was cool during the tea? For the others it becomes a RAP battle and all they can hear is "hum, nah, ha, hehe", the rest is indecipherable. More than once, during a presentation or debate in class, MC was told to shut the fuck up or slow down so that everyone could understand.
All material related to the history of the human world is more or less 100 to 200 years out of date in the library. Satan is slowly trying to update this, but they think that 200 years is almost nothing for humans to change, so unlike technology (which they think they created with magic) they just don't care. A new iPhone ok, now the human being landed on the moon during a bloodless war? Their lie, do you still believe what mortals say?
Humans sleep more than angels and demons, but even less than demons from the circle of laziness. MC, Solomon and Belphie (and sometimes Luke) usually sleep in some places at RAD during and between classes.
All exchange students have their own fan club. Luke's must be the quietest, everyone friendly and kind so as not to disappoint the little angel. Did you see him walking past you today, sad that he hadn't managed to buy a keyring at the RAD art fair? Bitch surprise, his fan club are still demons, the keyring will mysteriously appear on his desk in the classroom written "To Luke, a little big ray of sunshine in our lives" and the person who bought it has left the RAD, anyone know why?
Still on the subject of fan clubs, we're not talking about Solomon's. If the number of demons he has a pact with isn't enough of a warning, there are others walking around in capes and blouses as if they were cosplayers and sending letters to his house with phrases like 'roses are red, violets are blue, can we make a pact? Signed: Demon X' should be a better warning
And to end the fan clubs, MC's are trained in the art of being meticulous, a silent army that lives in the shadows - meaning they are in the devildom version of twitter. Lots of photos taken on the sly, fanart of all kinds, fanfics, merchandise and videos edits of (and when were they sheep? There are millions and millions of images circulating out there). Ever wondered why Miss Em sold so much? The MC fandom. They won't compete with anyone for their attention, the sweet human is simply appreciated the way they are (and they don't want to be on the brothers' list to "get away from the MC"). The Human Appreciation Club was not approved by the student council and they removed their devilpedia page, but that didn't erase these demons desire to idolize MCs. Live, love and laugh for MC, the way simps are.
At some point, the Real or Cake trend went crazy until Luke, who started making desserts that looked like everyday things, only stopped after surprising Simeon by cutting a cell phone-shaped cake (Simeon tried to break his with his hand after that, thinking it was cake. He spent 3 weeks without a phone)
Every time MC returns from a trip to the human world, they have to bring a suitcase just with souvenirs from there. Luckily, it can be anything they find fun, like a frog-shaped coaster, a jar of M&Ms with a pinwheel on top, a whole corn cake, a tie with a motivational quote, a children's book, or a coin of a specific year. Everyone just loves the fact that MC was thinking of them and they love using the gift they received. Barbatos's favorite tea set is now a completely transparent one with gold floral details.
Children's cartoons from 1940 still show on Devildom TV and Beel watches while eating or working out.
Lucifer has a family photo inside his wallet, Mammon once tried to steal his credit card, he was so shocked that he ended up screaming, he was caught and punish. Neither of them mention the photo.
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skipper1331 · 1 year ago
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Sweet girl // Esme Morgan
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a/n: based off this and this request. Enjoy :)
Esme was the sweetest girl you knew. Even before she was your girlfriend, she was the sweetness herself. Always looking after everybody, smiling all day long and just happy in general.
The blonde was known for her friendly nature but but the respect she held for others, whether she knew them or not, regardless of whether the person was good or bad person, was wow. She couldn‘t even hurt a fly - even though they annoyed her.
The two of you had been a couple for more than three years, happier than ever. The sweet girl was head over heels for you and not even ashamed to show it.
And to be fair, never in a million years, Esme would‘ve thought that she could fall deeper and more in love with you than she does everyday.
-
Early on in your relationship, you discovered some things that the sweet girl would never say out loud no matter who badly she wanted too or how hungry her mind was. She respected you in every kind of way, as her girlfriend, as a person, as a human.
You look hot and sexy? She would never say that. Obscene and vulgar words would never leave her mouth and especially not in relation to you. Instead you looked stunning, gorgeous, breathtaking and so on.
You‘re changing and she walks in? Immediately, she would turn around and leave the room. For her, it didn’t matter if she had seen you naked already - she respected your privacy. Which is also the reason she would always knock on the door before entering the bathroom.
She didn‘t like to call you the pet name, 'baby' or 'babe' she had never called you like that nor will she ever. Instead she prefered, 'lovely girl', anything with girl at the end.
My pretty girl.
My special girl.
My gorgeous girl.
And she would never place her hands in too intimate areas, at least not without consent.
-
"My lovely girl" the blonde admired as you walked out of the bathroom, "you look phenomenal" her gaze wandered over every inch of your body as your cheeks turned red. "Give me a twirl, please" she outstretched her arm, her hand for you to take as she gently twirled you around, "yeah, you look gorgeous" she admitted, shyly.
"Thank you" standing on your tip toes, you pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek, the blonde‘s cheeks turning a deep shade of red.
The defender loved the outfit you were wearing, it was your go-to date night outfit. It wasn‘t too casual but also not extravagant - it was perfect. While Esme always thought you were the beauty itself, this outfit let her mind trail in other directions, not that she would ever mention that but you could see it in her eyes and you could feel it when you weren‘t looking - she was looking at you with hungry eyes.
-
Standing in front of the wardrobe you debated what you‘re going to wear. It was a Saturday morning, Esme already out of bed, probably making some breakfast while just got out of bed.
"I‘m so sorry!" said person yelped as she saw your half naked figure, only in bra and underwear. Instantly, she covered her eyes, turning around and leaving the room. "I‘m sorry, my pretty girl, I thought you were still asleep" she told you through the closed door.
Deciding to tease her, you walked out of the room, still in the same 'outfit'.
"Hi" you grinned, the blonde trying her hardest to look you in the eye, "good morning" she mumbled, gulping as you stepped closer. How dearly she wanted to stare at your body. She could if she wanted too, you didn’t mind at all as you had told her more than once yet the sweet girl she was, she always declined, "there‘s no spicy time now." Sometimes it was as if she was afraid to look, cheeks all red, lip biting to contain herself. It was adorable and amusing for you because you would shamelessly check her out.
"I- um, wanted to wake you up for breakfast. I made your favorite"
Smiling brightly, you responded, "thank you" before pressing a good morning kiss against her lips.
-
"My girl?" knocking on the bathroom door, the defender waited patiently, "yes?" you called back, continuing to brush your hair. "Can I come in real quick?"
"Sure!" you replied, opening the door, "you can come in at any time"
Smiling at her, the blonde looked down at you, "I know but I prefer to ask" she grabbed the item she needed before leaving the room again but not without pressing a peck to your forehead.
The sweet sweet girl.
-
The defender was nervous, you could tell. Both of you sat on the couch, too much respectable amount of space between you. "What‘s wrong?" you asked the usual smiley girl. You knew she would tell you the moment you asked, the girl never one to lie about something or to say 'nothing' when clearly something was wrong.
Her hand went into her hoodie as she pulled something out of it. "I made you this" she admitted shyly, scratching her neck. "Esme!" you squealed, jumping on her, now straddling her, "you made me a spiderman bracelet?"
"Yes?"
"This is beautiful!" and you weren‘t lying. The bracelet seemed simple, just three colours in it. The main colour red as the spiderman eyes were white and outlined in black. But in reality, Esme’s knotted it more than 4 times because it had to be perfect for you. Every imperfection she saw - start over again.
"Can you put it on, please?" you asked, holding out your arm. Gently, she put it on your wrist. You admired it from every side, smiling as you looked at her again.
"I love you"
It was like the world just stopped for a minute as you attached your lips. The kiss was gentle at first until you cupped her cheeks, deepening it. Her hands found a rest on your waist yet they couldn‘t stay there. The urge to move them along your body was intense, especially after your tongue slipped in her mouth. Consumed by you, the defender didn‘t think twice, hands roaming over your body.
When she realized where they were rested now, she abruptly pulled away - she was breathing heavily, "my apologies"
You looked at her confused, what was she talking about? What was she apologizing for? "my hand placement" she answered as if she just read your mind while actually she just read the expression on your face. Understanding what she was talking about, you giggled, resting your forehead against her own, "I don‘t care if you‘re hands are at my bum"
"I didn‘t ask you-"
"My love, touch me wherever you want, whenever you want" taking her hands in your own, you placed them back on their original place before you started kissing her again, this time it was a much softer kiss. A kiss that told her: I’m fine with everything as long as it‘s you.
-
It didn‘t matter how often you told her it was okay to do this or enter the room without knocking and waiting, she would still do it.
She respected you in every possible way and you loved her for that and so much more.
She was your sweet girl after all.
———————
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I've seen people doing an intro post so I suppose I should do the same right? I have no idea how to do this, I'm just winging it :3
INTRO POST TIME WOOO!!
[last updated: sat dec 7th at 7:18 PM 2024]
(I update this often, a reread of it every now and then would be greatly appreciated!)
Maybe every week/month depending on your time scale? ↑
Follow my other blog where I reblog a bunch of stuff and things for the full experience of my personality and interests! @eckos-reblogs :3
@everytime-i-reach-the-postlimit ←Exactly as the name entails
@nature-is-mystical ←is my other random blog that you can follow as well if you want.
that blog is just for reblogging nature stuff and posting nature stuff. (Occasionally rhymes come with it ig)
side blog for fanart!: @sonar-fanart-hall
I'm always working on making reference sheets for OCs ^^
Chill dude side blog: @cool-dudes-official
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
I will continue to edit this, probably for the rest of time to get it right since I'm a slight perfectionist lol
Hello! I've been an artist for around 5 to 6 years, and I still kinda suck at it! I do traditional art normally but I've been branching out to digital art as well. I mostly draw animals, anthropomorphic creatures, creatures in general, whatever beautifully ugly faces I can come up with, and sometimes human faces!
I classify as a furry but do not reblog a ton of furry stuff nor do I have a fursuit. I just like drawing and seeing anthropomorphic animals :3
Furries, Therians, anyone of lgbtq+ community (including ace people cuz apparently there's a debate about that), weirdos (but NOT in the gross way), and more are welcome on my blog! :3 ❤️ (you're kinda automatically welcome if you're kind anyway lol but whatevs :3)
Tags and stuff! To help you find stuff in my blog better through search :)
#Ecko draws -exactly as is obvious, it will be for when I make art, digital or traditional.
#Echo Rambles -For posts of mine that include mainly me talking about random stuff
#Echo rants - for when I rant. Similar to #Echo rambles but different..
#Echo answers - For when I answer asks!! :D
#The Clowder seeks - For when you guys ask me stuff!
#Mama Change - For when I mention my mom. (Her name is change..or it's more of a nickname but no one calls her by her actual name except for professional/job people like a dentist or something)
#Echo asks - For when I ask questions :3 lol
#Eckos moots <3 - for interactions with moots, obviously 🙄 (I love y'all sm)
#Ecko irl - me irl
My main Media for traditional art is, pens, pencil, gel pens, paint markers (posca) and normal markers! I hope to soon branch out to ink! (Maybe one day you'll get to see some watercolor stuff from me. It's not that good of watercolor art and I don't enjoy painting too much tbh)
Anatomy You say? Don't know her 😔
If you are interested, I do art requests! It's not guaranteed to be good or to be done quickly but I will try my very best every time. You can even request multiple times if you'd like! Like a ton of times! I really don't mind!
You can also request art of fandoms I'm not in but make sure to give me a good reference or the drawing will look off :3
Art requests open until further notice.
If there's something I don't mention here that you're wondering if I can draw or not, give me an ask in my inbox and I'll let you know! (Pls, I'm friendly I swear)
You can also dm me if you'd like but I'd prefer the askbox instead (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠;⁠)
I can't draw/don't want to draw: items, anatomy, bodies (unless you want the equivalent of a boxy stick figure), rendering, lighting, dragons (without a reference), romance/NSFW (no, just no.), hands, human legs (for the life of me 😭), +more
I can draw/like to draw: faces, animals (mostly cat related ones but you can request any animal and I'll at least try to draw it.), different hair styles (only with a reference), eye bags (I think they're pretty lol), dragons (only with a good reference), gore (not the best at it but I'll will try my best to make something nice and bloody for ya!), +more!
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My name is Ecko and it's my preferred name but you can refer to me as Melleona (my OC) or by a nickname as well if you'd like! (just please ask me first if you want to use a nickname as I'm bad with setting boundaries.)
My pronouns are She/Her but feel free to refer to me as it/it's! :3
Speaking of which! This is my OC, Melleona:
She is 14 years old, she is introverted and blunt but also shy and insecure. She has anxiety, dealt with a bit of depression, and she's very casual as well as lazy (like me lol)
She's half Cat, she has greyish blue eyes (not visible in the drawing), slightly blueish black hair that's long enough to reach her ankles, she has a mushroom themed party hat, and some wicked whiskers!
If there's anything you'd like to ask me about her or ask her, go ahead and ask away! I love anons and normal asks! ❤️❤️❤️ (There is a slight filter on the drawing. I'll edit this later and put her color palette below ❤️)
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I'm a minor! Mind your words, don't send me gross/weird asks or messages. (I've already had a few people message me asking for my age, a picture of me, and my sexuality. No, I will not be sharing my real appearance on here. my age? Minor, that's all you need to know. My sexuality? I don't know and you don't need to know either, respectfully ^^❤️)
IDC if I post something slightly suggestive or that says I know about 18+ themes. I posted it, not someone saying something to me of those themes. Sure, I understand the stuff but It really doesn't matter now does it? It just means I understand enough to know you shouldn't be saying that stuff to me. (Boundaries ✨)
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I do half-curse in posts from time to time. I do censor it a bit tho, like "f7ck" for example. Hope ya don't mind (⁠;⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠)
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I'd appreciate it if people reblogged my art!
I don't appreciate reposting it however.
Just in case you don't know what the difference between reposting rather than reblogging: it's when you (typically) take a screenshot of the art, and then repost it on either Tumblr or a different app rather than hitting the reblog button!
While this has never happened to me personally, I do feel like it's worth mentioning.
Oh, and, don't under a circumstance feed my art to AI. I can forgive reposting my art. I put out there for people to see not to get fame from it but under no circumstances EVER will I allow feeding my art to AI. It is not human. It does not make art.
AI artists don't exist unless it's used ONLY to assist with a process that is still mostly YOUR OWN SKILLS THAT YOU'VE CULTIVATED OVER TIME. AI is NOT art but it can HELP with art.
ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ-ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ-ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ-ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ-ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ
don't dm asking me to commission from you. like said before, I don't have money bc I'm a minor + I don't like being pestered for me commission you. talk to me like a person, not an ATM.
If I want to commission someone, I will dm them and even then, I'm most likely to commission art from a friend to support them.
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I support the lgbtq+ community! And I don't discriminate against race. I really shouldn't have to say this. (˘⁠・⁠_⁠・⁠˘)
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I will respond to money asks with "!!" And that's it. I don't have money and even if I did I don't got any money to spare. I'm broke and struggling too. Not to mention, I'm a minor and can't just go out and get the stuff. I hope you understand and I wish you all the best!❤️❤️❤️
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Some games and shows and stuff I like:
Shows and stuff: Rick and Morty, adventure time, lost in space, bsd (never watched it but I've seen enough of it on the Internet to know a bit about it. Very interesting :3), Some of the Life Minecraft series, httyd, doctor who, and more!
Games/fandoms: Yonder(Yonder Cloud Catcher Chronicles.), Minecraft, the Stanley parable, tiny bit of South Park, cotl, MLP(childish I know but I don't care. I love them), creepypasta, SCPs, Trevor Henderson's creatures (mostly cartoon cat), plants vs zombies, fran bow, little misfortune, and more!
Stuff and things (hobbies?): Art, apparently I make rhymes now too??, rollerblading, climbing, Hiking (iffy), sleeping, being annoying+lazy, doom scrolling, interacting with people, and more!
(I'm not really in any fandoms really..kinda like on the edge of being in each and every fandom I come across..)
General facts about me! Yippee!
I think eye bags and wrinkles are pretty (odd, I know lol), I live in a bus (not decked out like you see on social media though. We just live in a bus lol), I live with my ma (my dad is my step dad and he and my mom just broke up psooo ye), I blank out a lot and just stare at people for no reason (which freaks them out), I have greyish blue eyes (a long with some, I'm pretty sure permanent eye bags lol), I get energy right before nighttime mostly (and then it disappears as soon as it reaches around 11 pm to 12 am), My favorite color is maroon (and any type of blue along with orange and yellow and forest green..mostly just comfy vibe colors tbh but maroon is a fixed piece), my favorite animal is a cat (although I have a dog. Muffin doesn't count as a dog, she's practically human. Apart of the family.), and more!
(I'll update this as I go)
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[I will block as I see fit]
Do not interact with my blog if: You're racist, you only or mostly have sexual themes on your own blog (I apologize but it makes me uncomfortable. Have some other interests and it might make me less uncomfortable ^^), if you in general just enjoy hating on people for no reason (I like to make my area a safe space for people) if you're a Zoophile (No explanation really needed but animals can't consent.) (more will be added later when I think of what to add)
Don't dm me unless you're a moot or you say your intentions within the first 1-3 messages. (moots that I've interacted with can send me a dm unprompted with stated intentions anytime they'd like. Special privileges ✨)
(Added a specific part of that bc a moot felt they were making me uncomfortable by having such themes on their blog. I didn't really realize at first but yes that does make slightly uncomfortable but I don't really care as long as you have other interests. If s3x is your only interest, it weirds me out to have those types of people interact with me. Just know you're all good moot, you're not the type of person I was aiming it at. There are other people that just don't think about anything else but $ex and relationships that creep me out and you are not one of them. ^^❤️)
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Things about me, (random stuff): I am cringe from time to time, my fav colors are maroon and any kind of blue, orange is nice too though,
I appreciate any and all constructive criticism. IDC if it sounds rude and might hurt my feelings, TELL ME so I can help better myself and my blog! I'm dum and will most likely not notice I'm doing something weird or anything :P <3
•Send me asks! Wanna to hug one of my OCs, Want to slap the sh1t out of one of em, Want to introduce me to a new (or old) fandom I don't know of but you think I might be interested in, Want to say hi, Want to give a music suggestion, send an ask!
I LOVE interaction and if possible, I want to be busy with asks at all times so send a ton!
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•Moots:
@theachskid @voidsweirdthoughts @burningbutter @rafrfr @rateater2000
@footlongdingledong @ender-the-insomniac @thistlebriar @rspoetry @virtualcroissantflapcolor
@jawdoesstuff @storythesilly @yourfavoritecuntist @chamber-of-voices @i-draw-things
@2oo7xddd @catsreblogging @silli-billy15 @totally-not-a-commie @khloethecatsworld
@1nd13gh0st @cur1os1tyk1lledme @nonbinaryriverclan @ilove-fanart-and-lore405 @hermitchild
@my-mom-named-me-duck @hermitchild
@williamsart12345 @lilytheaxoltollover @twobraincellsremaining @nn-the-doodle @emmajasonartz
@bugba-bugbee @railway323 @xho-the-scribble @asqadia-banthen @nasthesilly @ceaselessbackflips
@the-anxious-acrobat @justuravghazbin @callmekiyo24 @maybeyoullfindthissomeday
@sensehumor ♥️
+any future moots/one's I might have forgotten (I hope I wouldn't forget anyone 🥲)
If you don't like being tagged in tag games, let me know and I'll move your name over here cuz I copy paste the ones above for tagging in stuff: (nothing here yet!)
Moot side blogs: @thistlebriar-tags @my-dad-named-me-goose @mysterious-other-being @
Btw, moot/friend privileges: tagging me in whatever the heck you want, sending nonstop and possibly annoying asks, dming me and having a convo at random, +more! I love all y'all and am more than happy to interact ❤️
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My art ↑
Yippee!! That's all for now folks! ❤️
I'll update this whole thing as I go, any questions, just send an ask and I'll update this with the answer as well as you know- replying in general lol :3
I seem incredibly childish in this intro post and my general posts but do know, I am over 12 years of age lmao 🤣
I'mma keep some notes here as well... mostly for tone stuffs cuz I can't remember these 😭
/lh = lighthearted
/j = joking
/hj = half joking
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Note
Can I have a Yan genderbend of Maleficent? Or the very least in a yandere pletonic relationship with them?
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Yandere Genderbend Maleficent x Reader
You couldn’t believe you used to admire your family’s ignorance. You internally screamed as you listened to your family further embarrass themselves. They were so deluded by your great-grandfather’s pact, they had become set in the avarice founded from it. 
Long ago your great-grandfather had done the impossible. Defeating the fae army and even reclaiming the fallen land before establishing a functional militia there. Earning those honor-driven fae’s respect made your kingdom one to be praised in legend and stories to come. Some suspected you were a puppet state, and others wondered if you had a secret item that had the fae yielding to you. But you knew the truth. You were the only one who actually devoted time to the archives and private libraries. Actually yearning to know the truth. What you found was a successful mission to show the value of humanity. Your great-grandfather had befriended the young fae responsible for the war and somehow convinced him to explore the intricacies of the kingdom. The kingdom was filled with joy and a general consensus to be good. It sounded like paradise. The letters proved that the great fae thought precisely the same which is why he raised no alarm when he grew close with the prince–your grandfather. This relationship would be scandalous, judging by the letters both were torn between letting them be together. The fae was madly in love easily sharing his devotions with his friend, only for the king to show concern. For he knew his child and believed it would lead to their doom. As the king aged his authority was no longer uncontested and it was easy for his nobles to offer his throne in reward for control of the fae.  It wasn’t long before your grandfather returned wings in hand and was crowned as the greatest king to be. It wouldn’t be until that same fae returned to curse your mother that the situation would intensify. The story would tell of the princess cursed to sleep through her own pregnancy and the future king that would slay the dragon that was that revenge-stricken fae. 
They thought the body had faded because they had won. They were wrong. 
“Oh, King of Fae can’t bygones be bygones?! After all your family and ours were great friends.”
You cringed as the green magic seemed to flare up once again. You bit your tongue, for the time being, your parents were completely oblivious to the friendly relations you continued to nurture with various fae.  
“Yeah! What more do you want?! At this rate your just going to keep coming back to scam us or something.”
Your foolish brother piped in. Of course, he wouldn’t be aware of the true nature of the king before him. Nor of the power he possessed. You were lucky he hadn’t sucked the life out of everyone in this room.
“...I need proof of your loyalty to me. Something prized by your people.” Eyes hauntingly green roamed the room before landing on the oldest prince. “Someone precious.”
“Oh heavens! No, please!” Your mother cried leaning into your father who was visibly sweating.
“I’d rather die than give my son to you! Surely there is a gem or item you’d wish from us.”
The fae glowered. “No. Anything I want I can have. Anything I want I can take. Besides you, humans are hardly grasping what I want! Give me your prize!”
Prince Phil opened his mouth in a plea before being interrupted by the clicking of his younger sibling's heels. Poised and focused they easily attracted the attention of everyone in the room. Servants, guards and the royal family alike watched as the youngest royal came closer to the towering fae. If it weren’t for the situation he would have turned up his nose, the little parasite had done nothing but ruin his right to the throne. Not in the official light–his parents had always loved him more: they told him so themselves. But among the guards, the people, the servants, and even assassins had no stronger loyalty than to them. An embarrassment to the one birthed to wear it. He couldn’t stand (Y/n)! 
Nonetheless, he watched as they bowed, practically on their knees to the fae distastefully dragging their cape on the ground. A shameful appearance for someone of royal blood; no matter how despicable. 
They spoke, “Forgive us, my King. They are unaware of your history with the rulers of this kingdom and in no way are a reflection of the people who revere your existence.”
The green glow that had been permeating off the horned guest seemed to lessen as he watched blankly at (Y/n)’s plea. I could hear the scoldings they no doubt would receive, not to mention the punishments. What would it be? No more horse riding? Banned from the kitchen? Restricted from traveling? Oh, the possibilities were endless…
The fae didn’t speak which allowed (Y/n) to speak once again. 
“I fear that my family has not much to spare…but if you’d be willing I offer myself to you.”
“(Y/n)! Speak no more!” Father called with more worry than I expected. But they continued looking into the monster’s glowing eyes as if to manipulate him as they had done with so many others.
“If you’d be willing your Grace, let me be your prize!” Tilting his head he seemed to consider before looking at father who had looked away. His lips opened to speak before another interruption occurred. 
“(Y/n) please don’t do this!” 
“Master please consider!”
“We’ll go!”
“Yes! Please you mustn’t this kingdom needs ya!”
Many of the lowly servants dropped to their knees calling out from behind the guards who were hardly doing anything to restrain them. Sneering I had half a mind to strike them now but I wasn’t a fool; decorum was important even for the company of a monster.
(Y/n) seemed to falter before continuing to bow to the creature, who tilted his head once more and smiled in amusement.
“I was worried I was being offered a worthless prize…” Withdrawing a clawed hand from his robe he lifted their chin and trembling lips. Smiling devilishly as that green fire around him flared. 
“But I realize this is the fabled Shadow Dove, the silent pacifist between our peoples. Continuing to keep the…altruism within your kingdom.” 
Father made a grumbled murmur from his beard and Mother looked just as surprised as me. I paid no mind as he made (Y/n) rise with a pull of their hand. He moved around them to step closer to our thrones. I drew my sword ignoring the shaking as I pointed in his direction. He looked to me, monstrous eyes keeping me at a distance he turned to look at father and mother smiling with that horrifying display of teeth. Staff in hand the green flare seemed to spout from the staff in a frightening display. 
“I prophesy that when I take your Dove, your kingdom will crumble. From within its own walls your rule will end! From those ashes, I will take your kingdom and the last of your blood will be mine. ” He scoffed as mother shook intensely before mumbling something to himself…”That is if it survives from my own.” 
With a slapping gust of wind and a pull of his robe; the only evidence that he was here was the singed marks against the carpet. 
____________________________________________________________
As expected, the moment Maleficent left your mother broke into tears attracting the attention of your father and brother. Allowing you to leave quickly; as you were sure the anger behind their fear was bubbling. No doubt they’d somehow take it out on you, even as you were solely responsible for their lives. 
“Oh, Master!” 
“Do ya really h’ve ta go?”
“Will ya visit?” 
Running into the arms of your family you let your shoulders sag. You let your worry show as you confided in them. To think the only people in the castle who were least literate were more aware of how much the monarchy relied on them than the actual people in power. You prepared yourself accordingly, sending letters to nobles, trade partners, and allies. Disclosing all the information so they knew where your country was at. You fiddled with your plume as you debated reporting Maleficent’s prophecy. 
*Tap Tap*
You eyed past your pile of papers at the door. Seeing no one you continued to work
*Tap Tap*
You looked up again, with more vigor. You needed to focus on the good of your kingdom.
*Tap Tap*
“Alright, alright. I’m coming “ You began your search of the room looking frantically for the cause. Only to find it past your reflection in the window. You opened it letting the crow with something in its feet fly into your office. 
“Well hello there.” 
You carefully stroke the corvid as you unwrap the delivery. It was a letter and a vial filled with a liquid that seemed to change color under the light of the fire. 
Dearest (Y/n),
In preparation for our marriage, I have sent to you an elixir. It is to ensure good health as the days count down before I come to retrieve you. I am willing to let you do what you will before I collect you. If there should be any circumstances that lead to you not drinking the elixir or otherwise damaging my prize I will speed that process up, with extreme prejudice. 
–Maleficent
You eyed said elixir with great suspicion but after flashing a look of question to the—shrugging(?) crow, you downed it. Hacking at the burn that ran from your mouth to your esophagus you staggered onto your office couch. Scratching at the cushions you tried to refrain from screaming at the pain. It felt like your blood was boiling; thankfully your body felt the same and allowed you to fall into pain-numbing sleep. 
The crow tilted its head, watching with beady eyes at the shivering human on the couch. Seeing that the human was still breathing the crow set to take off before being interrupted. Harsh knocking led before the door swung open to reveal a man dressed in royal robes. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword as he stepped towards the couch. He seemed to hesitate before shakily withdrawing the sword from its scabbard, raising it above your sleeping head.
“CAW!”
The corvid call startled the wielder, fearfully returning the sword to its resting place. He looked at the bird with a scoff, making moves to scare it away before stalking out of your office. Seeing as the letter was delivered and its receiver followed instructions, the crow flew away returning to its master. 
The following morning, you continued to work having a vague recollection of the delivery. You pressed on, working diligently to organize the kingdom’s assets as best as you could. You held your face in your hands having finally sent your signature on a national ordinance. Preparing for your complete absence was harder than you thought. With the news of your engagement, the people were in a panic: riots, spreading hysteria, and massive scales of evacuation. Thousands of letters from allies and nobles alike begging to go to war instead of your marriage. It was too much for one person to take, especially if you were not nearly as experienced as a certain king should be. Speaking of the failures+ royal family they haven’t made an effort to speak to you. You couldn’t decide whether it was because they blamed you or were finally accepting how little they did on their own. 
“Your highness…your parents invited you to dinner?” Your maid spoke unassuredly, if he was befuddled by the notion of inviting someone you live with to eat or that they reached out at all you couldn’t tell. Nonetheless, you accepted, making quick work of the remaining paperwork so that you could finally breathe. Savoring the cobblestone walls you had grown with: cried upon, slept on, dragged your fingers along. Doing the same in your adulthood you fought your tears as you realized how much you’d missed your home and the people maintaining it. 
Arriving at the dining hall the king, queen, and their son was already seated digging into their food refusing to pause to acknowledge your entry. You sat at the farthest place setting with nothing on the plate your internally groaned. This was going to be a blood bath. A maid hurried to your side with foods you didn’t like silently apologizing; you deduced this was on purpose as you deadpanned to your family. With nothing but the cacophonous consumption to fill the echoing chamber of the dining hall. Only when you heard the clinking of silverware and the loud sucking of fingers that it seemed they were done. 
“Are you not hungry? Are you so fickle that you won’t eat before we drink?” The king jovially chuckled as he wiped his greasy fingers on the vestigial robes your forefathers had worn before. In his laughing, the queen joined in. Phil did not. Instead, he diligently stared at his glass, staying still as he let a maid pour the red wine. You did not join in their laughter even as everyone’s glass was filled, including yours. You eyed the glass suspiciously even as they were already helping themselves to sip. 
-DoN’T dRink ThIS-
Whatever that was, you agreed refusing to so much as touch the glass. 
The king coughed for attention, raising his refilled glass as he gestured towards you. “Now we toast to the new beginnings that come with the relations beyond!” 
The queen clapped to her husband before downing what had to be her third glass, the king downed him, but Phil did not. He seemed to be glaring at the glass as he violently swished the liquid in his glass. 
You still didn’t touch your glass even as their contented expressions transformed into nervous looks. Eyes darting from your glass to one another king and queen visibly began to sweat and shift in their seats. 
“Uhm (Y/n) dear why don’t you join us for our toast?” The queen nervously chuckled. 
“I don’t want to.”
“M-maybe you just don’t want to eat on an empty stomach. Serv-”
“No, I just do not want to drink this.”
In a nervously shared eye contact your parents turned toward you as they fruitlessly pleaded that you drink the wine. All the more reason to believe something was amiss. They continued their desperate pleas as you stood to leave. 
“I excuse myself. I have other matters to attend to-”
“No, you don’t!” Phil exclaimed springing from his chair, drawing his sword out, and pointing it at you. You faltered in your route looking to the exit where the guards were posted to see the queen barring the doors. Moving backward with the blade’s tip pointed toward you stopped when you felt the coolness of the wall.
“You’ve sunk your poisoned talons into this kingdom and I’m taking you out of it!” Phil screamed but you screamed right back.
“You idiot! Do you realize if you harm a single hair on my head this kingdom is doomed?! Maybe that wouldn’t have been the case if you had any semblance of the state of the kingdom!”
Your explanation seemed to make him hesitate only for him to come even closer letting the frigidness of the flat side of the blade sit on your neck. You could see the sweat on his brow and your parents working to hold the door. Fearing it is your last opportunity you looked to the narrow windows that showed the faraway lights of the town below and that crow who was sat with another message around its foot. You snapped back to attention as Phil screamed once more.
“Aaagh! Y-you couldn’t just have drunk the wine, you just had to do this…But I’ll DO IT! FOR MY KINGDOM!” 
He swiped the blade across your neck before swiping again at your chest. You fell to the floor as you held the parts that burned with searing pain, writhing as you felt more blood rush over your hands. Worried you’d be succumbing to your death you let yourself silently cry as you lost the strength to hold your arms up. Your vision was spotty. All you could hear was the deafened pounding against the door, Phil’s crying, the comfort that followed from the queen…your mother
“W-what is that?! What is this?! Witchcraft?” 
The blade was pointed at what would have been your corpse if it weren’t for your blood turning into a silver color and receding back into your body. The wounds you had began to close before stopping as you slumped to the ground. The royal family waited in silence as they watched you lay there. Still and unmoving they came closer to poke at your body hoping that you would remain so. But before they could do so the castle began to shake, windows shattered, and a storm surged outside. Hair and capes whipping in the wind it only took a flash of green lightning for the fae king had arrived.
“To think it took only three dolts to further your kingdom’s destruction; humans continue to amaze me.” 
Maleficent spoke candidly before carefully pulling you up into his arms. Phil foolishly stuck his sword out towards the fae. 
“So what are you going to do, huh?! Burn me with fire for hurting your precious little prize?!”
He shook as Malleus turned towards him staring him down with that intimidating glare and flare of magic. 
“Hahaha!”
He laughed flashing his elongated fangs and letting Phil and the family sigh. 
“No. Thanks to my productivity they’re not dead,” there was a breath of relief. One that was short-lived,” but your town will though and by tomorrow everyone will know why. Adieu.” 
Nodding his head to the staff and guard that had broken through the doors and pointed accusatorially at the royal family as they watched Maleficent teleport away; beginning the disruption that would spur the prophecy they’d been given.
______________________________________________________________
When you awoke you felt an ache all throughout your body, making your awakening a slow mission. Looking around you weren’t in your home, instead, you were in a darker place with walls of stone and torches of green fire. Barely tilting your head, you laid eyes on that crow kirking its head in your direction before flying off. You had the urge to follow struggling to move with your achy legs and IV pumping something silver into your veins. Unplugging it as you hobbled out of your room, you relied on the cold feeling of your bare feet against the floor to wake you up as you followed the waiting crow. 
It felt like you were walking a maze blindly following the corvid as he led you through the barren hallways. Finally sitting still he cawed on a rootlike perch that sat alongside the grand thorned throne in which Maleficent sat with legs spread open in attire much more relaxed than his usual cape. You stared inawe curious if you were dreaming.
“Come Dove. Sit with me. You have destroyed your first kingdom; here we bask in the glory of our immense superiority.”
“B-but I’m nothing but spoils from that destruction…if I should be so bold.”
He smiled. A smile of amusement as you retained your demeanor even in something as simple as your night cloth. 
“Sit, (Y/n). I have already found you worthy of this honor. You are mine after all.”
You bowed before stepping up the stairs to his throne and letting yourself sit upon the leg of the fae King. Trying to still your heart as his hand wraps around your waist and pulls you close to cast a spell on a hovering ball of water.
“Now my Dove, let us watch their prophecy become reality.”
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interstellar-cluster · 3 months ago
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Almost-friendly sysmed reminder
Firstly, anti-endos be respectful. This post isn’t to bash you or disordered systems. It is meant to educate people on the DID/OSDD criteria and how the DSM-5 and ICD-11 both essentially prove the existence of non-disordered systems.
Please also note that we’re endogenic. We don’t have any diagnoses and we’re taking the information in the DSM-5 and ICD-11 at face-value.
Another note: This post is also not meant to say that people’s experiences are invalid or not true. Once again, we’re taking this information of the diagnostic criteria for DID at face value, and this doesn’t account for personal experiences. This is purely the diagnostic criteria for DID/OSDD. We also don’t have a lot of information on UDD so we won’t be talking about that here.
Every system is valid.
The rest of this will be under the cut because it is LONG and I don’t want to clog up my page.
So we’ll get right to the point. Trauma is not part of the diagnostic criteria for DID/OSDD, nor is the disorder developing in early childhood part of the disorder. Trauma is very commonly associated with trauma in early childhood but this doesn’t mean that the disorder requires trauma to develop.
Regarding the Structural Dissociation Theory, this is only a theory. It might be proved, disproved, changed or they may not fit every experience. Theories aren’t concrete, and the human brain is so incredibly complex that it’s almost impossible at this time and age to prove anything.
Criterion 3 in the DSM-5 and criterion 6 in the ICD-11 state that the plurality or symptoms of such must be distressing for the plural with the disorder. If the plurality is not distressing or, in the ICD-11, causing significant impairment in important areas of functioning (personal, social, educational, etc), then it is not a disorder.
These criteria are explicitly stated to exclude plurals who do NOT find that their plurality causes impairment to their functioning. This inherently means that plurality CAN exist without causing distress or impairment.
Another criterion that explicitly excludes non-traumagenic systems from the DID criteria is that the plurality must not be part of normal cultural or religious practices. This includes tulpamancy and is, once again, stated to exclude these types of plurality from being diagnosed with DID because they are recognised to be non-traumagenic and that they exist.
So, TLDR; trauma isn’t necessary for plurality; you need to be distressed about the symptoms of your plurality to be disordered which, by extension, means that non-disordered plurality exists; and cultural and religious practices are excluded from the criteria of DID which means that doctors acknowledge that plurality can exist without being disordered.
(This entire post also occurs to OSDD because it generally follows the same criteria as DID with either DID criterion A or B or both not occurring in OSDD patients.)
Thanks for coming to our Ted Talk. We’re not looking to discuss this, sysmeds/anti-endos can look but do not interact. We will freely block anyone who reposts this just to argue for the sake of ridiculing endo systems.
- 🕸️🎧
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mikavlcs · 2 years ago
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Elysium
Pairing: Wednesday Addams x cryomancer!reader
Summary: After realizing her untimely feelings, Wednesday pushes you away, but the arrival of a certain dance proves that she may have made a fatal mistake in doing so. 
Warnings: ooc!wednesday(??? i honestly can’t tell), tyler galpin, baby’s first attempt at a recurring metaphor
Word count: 8k (...)
Notes: so...i don’t completely hate this lol. shout out to the anon that requested this, i had fun with it! hope you enjoy<3
Masterlist | Part 1
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Wednesday was happy to be alone.
Being alone was the most natural thing in the world. A necessity that she could never dream of giving up for anyone. Other, lesser human beings may have been social creatures, but not Wednesday. She found peace in solitude, happiness in the silence that came with self-induced isolation.
She was a solitary island surrounded by an ocean that she had no interest in ever exploring.
So in order to maintain her seclusion she built the walls around her island up so high that they obscured the sun and surrounded them with wooden spikes for anyone dumb enough to approach to impale themselves on for her entertainment.
The only people she would ever open up to was her family on the incredibly rare occasions that she allowed it, but other than that, no one was ever let inside. Her walls stood tall, strong, and impenetrable.
Of course, despite her best efforts to fend off intruders, there were always the occasional daredevils that liked to see how close they could get to the fire without being burned.
Enid, it seemed, was one of those people, brazenly ignoring her warnings and threats and advancing toward her barricade. She’ll learn eventually, Wednesday supposed.
But never had she seen someone be so unbothered by her defenses until she met you.
Because you didn’t try to approach or swim onto her shore, nor did you comment on the height of her walls or the myriad of weapons crowded around them.
No, you seemed happy to just float out in the open ocean and engage with her from there, utterly content to wait for her to come out to you instead of forcing the opposite.
It was odd. But Wednesday held that same opinion for you in general.
You were a peculiarity, different in a way she hadn’t quite encountered before. Both because of your abilities and personality.
In Wednesday’s opinion, your powers were something you had much too little pride in considering how versatile they truly were.
From the solid, nearly impervious walls you could build within seconds, to the various weapons you could make—your powers had many applications that Wednesday was more than happy to take advantage of when allowed.
(She had even seen you turn your arm into solid ice. Only once, and you could only make it to the middle of your bicep, but it was impressive, nonetheless. Certainly something she could find a use for in the future.)
And that wasn’t even mentioning their practical everyday effects.
Wednesday had been told that her presence metaphorically chilled a room, but you did it literally without even meaning to. To the point where some classrooms had to turn the heat on early this year because of students’ complaints about your effects on the temperature.
Personality-wise, you were a bit warmer but not overwhelmingly so. You were friendly, but not overbearing as her roommate could often be. Positive, but not to the point where you lacked realism.
You were missing the innocence and naivete that most others your age immaturely grasped onto. 
While you were still what she would classify as an optimist, it was apparent that the world had sunk its teeth into you and ripped away something fundamental.
Not enough to break your spirit, but enough for you to know what it truly meant to suffer.
And that gravity that you held, that perfect point of neutrality you maintained, made you more tolerable than anyone else in that prison of a school.
You were peculiar. Unlike anyone Wednesday had seen or met before. You held within you the most stunning mixture of warm and cold that she’d ever seen, like a winter’s first sunrise.
You never offered up anything about yourself nor did you try to push her for any personal details. You simply did as she asked of you, helped her achieve her goals without asking for anything in return.
Whenever you were with her you seemed content to just…be.
It was so atypical, so exceptionally strange that she couldn’t help but keep you around. Couldn’t stop her feet from traveling down that familiar woodland path that you would inevitably be sitting just off of.
Over days and weeks, she found herself stepping outside her walls and slowly inching toward the shoreline, feet traversing over the damp sand to get just the slightest bit closer to you. But for the most part, she was able to refrain from ever touching the water.
The Outreach Day incident was a turning point.
Wednesday wasn’t sure why, but there was a fundamental paradigm shift in her relationship with you after that day.
She hadn’t told you the horrors that befell Mary that night, but there were inklings of it. The spilled blood on the paper, the use of that same blood to sign her name at the bottom. She showed you that for a reason.
It was a warning of sorts. Not a show of power, but a display of what she was capable of. 
And you didn’t run, you accepted the letter and all its implications with a smile and possibly the sincerest thank you Wednesday had ever received in her life.
That specific night stuck with her for weeks afterward.
It felt like that was the point when she allowed herself to step off the firm ground of the shore and wade into uncharted waters with you.
The worst part was that she didn’t even notice until the effects translated into physical symptoms.
The first was an irregularity in her heartbeat. An arrhythmia caused by the sight of your soft, crooked smile.
It jolted her in the moment, but she wrote it off as a once-off, an anomaly. Until it happened again and then again and again, all while in your presence. And that wasn’t the only thing.
There was a growing warmth in her chest that accompanied the thought of you, one powerful enough to combat your natural frigidity. And it seemed that when you were around her, the very air between you electrified, sending sparks up her veins.
Not to mention the subtle shortness of breath and nerves that persisted in your presence.
These instances didn’t scare her, but they did draw her concern. She took note of all her symptoms and did as much research as she could, but there was no disease or sickness she could find that matched what she was experiencing.
That left the next most logical conclusion—sabotage. Considering all of these oddities happened when she was with you, that theory was somewhat plausible. But she had a hard time believing it.
Motive was the first thing that didn’t add up. Why would you want to do this? And with such an ineffective method, it made no sense. What even was your methodology here? Poison?
Wednesday was a self-taught master of poisons. She had ingested nearly every toxin she was able to get her hands on to both study its effects firsthand and build an immunity. There was no poison on the planet that Wednesday wouldn’t be able to identify in seconds, let alone any that would actually be able to incapacitate her, so that didn’t track either.
There were other holes in this theory as well. The unusual electricity, for instance. Sure, your powers were elementally based, but you could only create and bend ice to your will, not electric currents.
And generally, she just found it hard to believe that you would do anything nefarious to her.
She decided she would push the issue to the back of her mind. It wasn’t actively impeding her ability to function in any meaningful way, so it would wait until the current investigation was laid to rest, a mystery to be solved after the monster was found.
But everything finally clicked weeks later, when Eugene was guiding them to a cave pictured in a drawing she stole from Xavier, one of her current suspects.
Eugene was leading a few paces ahead while the two of you lingered behind, strides matching the others perfectly. He was going on about the insect life local to the area. Wednesday had little interest, but you indulged him, asking questions and listening with a smile.
She preferred to just listen to you both, stealing occasional glances at you while you laughed along with Eugene.
It was only when she caught herself pondering how well you would get along with her brother, how much Pugsley would enjoy the company of someone like you that the realization hit her with all the force of an incoming bullet train.
The “symptoms” she’d been experiencing for the past months were not indicative of any kind of medical issue, but instead of something else. Something far, far worse.
For it was a sign that she had become a hypocrite, that she had gone off and done exactly what she swore to her mother she would never do. Just like that her world was turned upside down and she was left to reevaluate everything that she knew about herself.
She didn’t realize she had stopped in the middle of the forest until you entered her direct line of sight, stepping in front of her with worried eyes.
“Hey, are you alright?”
A harsh swallow and hard blink were all she needed to regain her bearings, but she still couldn’t quite meet your eyes.
“I’m fine.” She walked past you, discarding the worried looks you were giving her.
The rest of the afternoon went without issue, even gathering a critical piece of DNA evidence from the monster, but the revelation weighed heavily on her from then until deep in the early hours of the morning.
Troubled, she lay awake, the resting shadows of Enid and Thing taunting her from their respective places in bed and atop her desk. But sleep was the furthest thing on her mind then, no matter how much she wished it was.
Instead, she was stuck replaying every moment that she had spent with you, wondering when and how she had wandered so far from the safety of her shore.
The water was up to her chest now, lapping at her chin roughly. You were there, encouraging her to swim out farther with you, but Wednesday was at a standstill.
She was in far too deep to ignore, and she had to choose between swimming back to shore now without you or risking you letting her drown beneath the tempestuous waves. And as tempting as your invitation was, Wednesday had to choose the option she knew guaranteed her safety.
So the next day, for the first time since she had stepped foot in the forest, Wednesday avoided the familiar path that led to you.
Both to and from, she walked the opposite side of the woods, the unfamiliar trees doing little to assuage the harsh stinging in her chest.
You approached her about it after classes the next day, confusion and curiosity abound, but she forced herself to keep walking. Even as your words died and your face fell, she kept one steady foot in front of the other until she made it back to her dorm.
Wednesday preferred to be alone, it was the optimal state of being in her mind. Without the burden of others’ emotions and weaknesses, she was free to do whatever she pleased. But that wasn’t what it felt like now.
Instead, the lack of your presence felt like a burden and weighed down on her like a thousand stones on her back every time she stepped into the woods without you. Sweat formed on her skin even in the brisk autumn breeze.
She found the world was far too warm without you near.
In truth, she wasn’t sure what was worse, the sudden separation or the fact that you didn’t even protest against it.
Though she avoided you in the woods, seeing you around school was inevitable. But even when you sat next to her in class, you never tried to confront her about her recent behavior. You just…accepted it.
Anyone else would think that you didn’t care, that you were unbothered by her absence but Wednesday knew better. She knew you.
She saw the way you walked the halls with downcast eyes, noticed the near-permanent sorrowful frown you wore wherever you went.
It was clear that you were affected by her decision but chose to do nothing about it.
For some reason, that bothered her nearly as much as the distance did. You weren’t scared of her, so why were you acting like you were now? It made no sense.
Though she wouldn’t be inclined to admit it aloud, you were powerful. Between the nature of your powers and your near-perfect control over them, you were more than capable of demanding answers if you really wanted to. And yet you didn’t.
It nagged at her during the day, incessantly whispered in her ear at night, keeping her awake.
She was half-tempted to ask. The part of her that cared for you latched onto it, wanting any excuse to see you and be near you again.
But she didn’t. Because she made her choice.
Wednesday was back to being alone, safe on the desolate shores of her island with her stark walls, and she would have to learn to accept it once again.
-
A considerable amount had happened over the span of a week.
In terms of her case, Xavier had officially been promoted to prime suspect. Meaning that she had been sneaking around him to gather evidence for the better part of the week.
She had to relocate her crime board to the Hummer’s shed because of Enid’s impossibly weak stomach, and somehow, one of the largest thorns in her side was the imminent arrival of the school’s yearly dance—the Rave’n.
An event both you and she initially decided not to attend in order to further your investigative efforts but…circumstances changed.
She very nearly had to go with Xavier. An attempt to raid his personal art shed ended with him finding her there and, to cover her tracks, she was forced to ask him to the dance. But after getting caught inside his art shed only days later, that disaster was thankfully called off.
At least she successfully managed to do what she went there for in the first place—steal something with his DNA.
Now, she was trying to convince the stubborn sheriff to run both the claw and the cloth with Xavier’s blood then cross-reference the DNA to see if they matched, but of course, he refused.
The possible answer to her mystery was a hair’s width away and the only thing holding her back was the oversized ego of an old man. Typical.
Just as she was about to walk out, he agreed to run her evidence, and for the first time in seven days, she felt like she could breathe. Finally, after months of chasing this mystery, concrete answers were on the horizon. It was a refreshing change of pace.
(There was only one thing missing…)
Wednesday walked out of the sheriff’s office with only the forming hypothesis about her suspect to keep her company.
Thing refused to come with her. He had been far less cooperative since she’d started avoiding you and as annoying as his moods could be, she knew she deserved it, so she let him rebel.
As long as he still assisted her in her investigation when needed, he could do whatever he wanted.
Against her better judgment, she wondered if he was with you. He had immediately taken a liking to you, always trying to rope you into his elaborate schemes when she brought you to her dorm to aid in her research efforts.
So it wouldn’t be implausible to assume that he had been in contact with you since she had cut you off. She wondered if he knew how you were doing. If he would actually tell her if she asked.
After what she’d done, she wondered if she even deserved to know.
“Hey, Wednesday, wait up!”
She paused, annoyance already coursing through her veins because she knew that voice. Turning, she was met with the sight of Tyler Galpin jogging over to her from across the street.
A mixture of annoyance and unease coursed through her. She was tempted to just leave—dealing with one Galpin had already drained her limited patience—but the inherent intrigue kept her in place.
Tyler was an enigma to her, a contradiction that was made all the more interesting when put in contrast to his father.
Sheriff Donovan Galpin was a dogmatic, stubborn prick at the best of times. Truly one of the most inherently irritating men Wednesday had ever had the misfortune of interacting with. 
But he was a genuine man.
He was passionate about his job, upfront about what he wanted, and he didn’t let anything stop him from finding answers, not even when told to stand down by the mayor himself. In a sense, it was something Wednesday respected about him.
Tyler was the opposite, all counterfeit charm and synthetic smiles for no outwardly apparent reason.
Wednesday didn’t like him. He was only kept around because he was a useful source of information. Having lived in Jericho his whole life, he knew things about the town that she didn’t, but he was still just…off.
She couldn’t explain it, even with her extraordinary diction.
Something about him just caused an innate, negative alchemical reaction within her. He set off her intrinsic alarm bells whenever he was near, like he was the culprit of a terrible (not in the good way) crime that she just couldn’t prove.
Instinctively, she thought back to the observation you offered when she asked your opinion of the boy.
“He’s just…weird, y’know?” you said, eyes glued to the birds flying between the branches overhead, admiring them as you both walked down the familiar woodland path. 
“It’s like he’s wearing the skin of the perfect small-town boy next door. He’s perfected the shy dialogue and sunny personality, but he hasn’t quite gotten the movements and mannerisms down.”
It made her tense, already perfect posture straightening up even more as he rounded her and slowed to a stop a few feet in front of her, effectively blocking her way.
“Hey,” he grinned. “I wasn’t expecting to see you in town. What are you doing?”
“Running errands,” she answered tersely.
“Oh? Shopping for a certain dance perhaps?”
She gritted her teeth at the mention of the event. “We’ve interacted enough for you to know that I have no interest in frivolous school events.”
“Right,” he chuckled, awkward. “Well, hopefully, this one isn’t completely off the table.”
Wednesday had no qualms against squashing the hope in his voice. “It is.” She sidestepped and tried to leave but he blocked her once more.
“Wait, I need to ask you something.”
“Tyler, I have neither the time nor the interest for your inquiries right now.” She tried to move past him, but he grabbed her shoulder to stop her, grip a bit too tight.
Immediately, she ripped herself out of his grasp and gave him a glare so sharp it could’ve cut him in two.
Tyler put his hands up, sounding genuine when he said, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that, I know. I just… Please, just hear me out.”
She continued to glare, but it was clear he wasn’t going to leave her alone about this. Wednesday sighed, jaw clenched tight. “Fine. Hurry up.”
“I was…well, I was just wondering if—”
He cut himself off with a cough. Wednesday exhaled sharply.
“Spit it out, Tyler.”
“…Do you maybe wanna go to the Rave’n with me?” he asked, bringing his hand to scratch his neck in a gesture of nervousness that wasn’t quite convincing enough. Your words echoed in her mind, and she couldn’t help but realize how right you were.
She narrowed her eyes, the no just about to slip off her tongue but she bit it back at the last second and looked at him—really looked at him.
His artificial boyish grin was present, stiff pseudo-withdrawn posture accompanying it. But his eyes were different.
Usually, they were unreadable, vacant of any of the emotion injected into his voice, but not now. Now, she could see the echoes of an unspecified emotion creeping just along the edges of his irises.
There was something lurking within the shadows of his eyes, something that even Wednesday couldn’t quite decipher.
It unsettled her, enough for her to change her plans on the spot.
“Fine. Pick me up at 8. If you’re late, I’ll have Thing remove one of your fingers.”
She didn’t bother waiting for a response, promptly moving past him and around the corner the moment she was finished speaking and maintaining that speed until she was halfway through her new forest path back to Nevermore.
Once she passed the marker of her halfway point, she finally slowed and allowed herself to process what she had seen.
What was that?
Sure, she had thought that something with Tyler was off, but this was her first time seeing an inkling of something genuinely sinister. Could it have some deeper meaning? Could she have been putting her focus on the wrong person for the past few weeks?
She brushed her mild shock aside and took the next logical step in her process—mentally categorizing and contrasting her two suspects.
Xavier had been within close proximity both times she had encountered the monster, at the festival and in the forest with you on Outreach Day. Additionally, he had those suspicious scratch marks on his neck, and though he said they were from a painting of the beast brought to life, that could very well be a lie.
But Tyler’s whereabouts in both of those instances were unknown, so in theory, he could have been there as well. For all she knew, he could be an outcast of some sort as well.
Wednesday sighed, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on.
Looked like she would be attending the dance after all.
-
The night of the Rave’n came far too quickly for Wednesday’s liking.
She was sitting on her bed, squirming uncomfortably in the dress Thing stole for her as she awaited Tyler’s arrival. The sentient hand had already gone off to the dance, under explicit instruction to monitor Xavier for her while she observed Tyler for the night, which he thankfully agreed to without protest.
Enid was also long gone, thankfully. She would already have to deal with her at the dance itself, so she was grateful to have some time to prepare without her roommates squealing.
8 pm rolled around and with it came a knock on her door.
He was technically thirty-seven seconds late, but she wasn’t about to throw away an ample opportunity such as this over that. (Though she would at least think about going through with her threat. Thing would be more than happy to add another finger to his collection.)
With a quiet sigh, she stood and pulled the door open to reveal her companion for what would undoubtedly be a hellish evening.
Tyler looked up when the door opened, a big grin creeping onto his face when he saw her.
“W-Wow, you look…amazing,” he stuttered out, eyes void of the wonder in his voice. Wednesday hummed, running her eyes over his outfit.
Plain white button-up, blazer, slacks, and dress shoes. Following the dress code to the letter. Disappointing.
“You look passable,” she said plainly, moving to stride past him. “Let’s go. Even ‘fashionably late’ has its limits.”
Without bothering to wait for him, she marched onward out of her dorm, leaving Tyler scrambling to catch up behind her. 
She wasn’t sure where exactly the dance was being held, but it was a nonissue. All she needed to do was allow the obnoxiously loud music to guide her way, like a North star.
Unsurprisingly, that worked and before she knew it, they were walking through the entrance, adorned with lights and sequins, and stepping into the event proper.
She took a cursory glance around the room as she entered, and she had to give the decorating committee a bit of credit because the place was not hideous. The flashing lights and nauseating amounts of glittery décor were heinous, but at least there appeared to be a theme present.
Onyx eyes found you instantly, drawn to you like magnets, and she froze in place. Tyler stopped a few paces ahead of her, giving her a weird look but she paid no attention to him.
There were many other eyes on her as well, but she ignored them just the same, instead focused on two things.
First, not only were you here despite saying you had no plans to attend but you were also dressed from head to toe in black. Just as she was. 
And while you weren’t the only person not following the assigned dress code—she was particularly happy to see both Bianca and Enid forgoing it—you still stood out to her far more than the others.
You had forsaken the theme in a way that no one else had. No one besides her, that is.
And second, you were with Eugene.
He was there next to you, smiling and laughing in tandem with you as you talked about god knew what. Her chest tightened and burned with an unfamiliar emotion.
Now, logically Wednesday knew that you had no feelings beyond friendship for the boy, considering both his age and the fact that, to her knowledge, you had only spoken to him a handful of times. But it didn’t matter.
Eugene could be replaced with any other faceless student, and she suspected she would still be upset to see you here with someone else. (In her color, nonetheless.)
As if you could sense her gaze, you looked over toward the entrance where she stood, and you stilled instantly, reflecting her own reaction.
Your smile waned, as did whatever sentence you had been in the middle of, and the shock that painted your expression turned to hurt when your eyes traveled to the boy she walked in with.
Even from across the room, Wednesday could see frost building on the glass in your hand, and she yearned to know what was upsetting you so greatly that you were losing control of your powers. Was it just her mere presence here? Or Tyler’s? A mixture of both?
Before she could properly react, Enid bounded up to her, clapping her hands excitedly. “O-M-G, I love the look! I can’t believe you actually showed up.”
“Neither can I,” she muttered with distaste. Her eyes wandered over Enid’s shoulder to where you were and found that you were no longer looking at her, but instead back at Eugene.
You looked upset, the happiness you radiated only moments ago long gone, and she hated to think that she was the possible cause. Eugene appeared to be consoling you about something. Wednesday itched to go over and ask you herself.
Enid followed her eyes, her smile dropping a bit. “Yeah, you guys are totally matching. I thought it might’ve been coordinated but…” She gave Tyler an unimpressed once-over. “I guess I overestimated your taste.”
Wednesday’s brows raised, focus darting back to Enid. The corner of her lips twitched. Maybe she was beginning to rub off on her chipper roommate.
Again, Wednesday peered over her shoulder and this time found Lucas. When their eyes met, he waved at her nervously, his posture noticeably stiffening as he lingered at the table behind Enid. 
The realization hit and any traces of a smile were gone instantly.
“Well, I suppose I could say the same about you, Sinclair,” she drawled, sending Lucas a pointed look.
Enid grimaced, sending him a sheepish glance. “It’s not what it looks like, I swear. He’s trying to make his ex jealous and I’m just trying to make Ajax jealous. It’s a mutually beneficial temporary partnership, nothing more!”
That sounded immensely stupid to Wednesday, but she nodded anyway to placate the girl. “Well, if he does anything stupid, don’t hesitate to inform me,” she looked back to the boy behind the werewolf, projecting her voice so he could hear. “I brought my pocket mace. The medieval kind.”
Lucas gulped loud enough to be heard over the music, but Enid just giggled.
“Of course. And if you need to ditch your ‘date’, just let me know.” She sent Tyler, who was speaking with Miss Thornhill, a half-hearted smile.
Suddenly, Enid gasped; eyes locked onto a certain gorgon quickly approaching from across the room.
“Ajax is coming this way, I gotta go,” Enid hurriedly explained, going to grab Lucas. “Try to have some fun, Willa! Or as much as you can with that normie.”
Wednesday glowered at the nickname.
“How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that, Enid?” she called after the retreating girl, who only offered a wave in return.
Tyler, finally finished with whatever conversation he was having with her teacher, sidled up to her with his hands buried in his pockets. “So, uh…what do you wanna do?”
Leave, she immediately thought but didn’t say. She looked around for anything remotely interesting and when she found nothing, her eyes settled on the beverage table. She wasn’t thirsty in the slightest, but it was something.
“I’ll go get us drinks.” She only made it a step forward before she was blocked by an arm.
“Allow me,” Tyler remarked with that ever-irritating grin. “You stay here.”
He straightened his blazer and sauntered toward the table, leaving her by herself. 
Aggravation built in her chest, but she couldn’t get worked up so early into the night, so she took a long breath and searched for an empty table.
Only a few seconds into her search, someone snagged her arm and pulled her off to the side. She whirled on them the moment they stopped moving, fist fully prepared to strike, and only halted her attack at the last second when she saw the culprit.
Xavier.
Maybe I should’ve struck anyway, she mused idly. But aloud she said, “What do you want?”
“I can’t believe you’re here with him,” he spat. The vitriol in his voice piqued her interest.
“Why?” she asked. “Do you have history?”
He laughed, rough and humorless. “That’s one way to put it.”
Wednesday crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows expectantly. After a moment, he obliged.
“You remember that blank wall I was staring at on Outreach Day?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Well, last year Principal Weems asked that I paint a mural there to celebrate Outreach Day. I was there after dark finishing it up when Tyler and his asshole friends jumped me. They held me down and beat me up then ruined the painting and just left me there. It took weeks for me to recover.”
Wednesday would admit that she was taken aback. She knew Tyler was hiding something, but to find out that he had been responsible for something so violent was unexpected. Unexpected and incredibly valuable.
She was reminded of what Xavier said the day after the festival about Tyler not being who she thought he was. More and more, it was beginning to look like he had a point.
“And was that his first instance of violent behavior?”
“No,” he said, “he’s been picking on outcasts for years. Only recently has he stopped because he’s ‘reformed’ or some bullshit. But I don’t believe it. People like that rarely change.”
On that, they could both agree.
“I’m only here with him because he’s a suspect, like you. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Xavier didn’t seem comforted by her words. He snorted, “Well at least I’m not the only one you’re willing to use for your own gain.”
She rolled her eyes, not bothering to even respond to the comment. She assumed that to be the end of the conversation, but Xavier remained there, watching her.
He was waiting for something, she realized. Something that would never come.
“I’m not going to apologize for putting my investigation, and thus the safety of everyone in and around Jericho, over your fragile feelings, Xavier,” she said, slowly and succinctly. “So if that’s what you’re waiting for then don’t bother further wasting your time.”
Xavier’s jaw clenched. “Fine,” he gritted out, rueful, and stalked back over to his table.
Wednesday didn’t bother watching him leave, still processing what he told her.
The revelation of Tyler’s violent past marinated in her mind. Seemed like she had a new prime suspect on her hands.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something crawl up onto the table next to her. She looked over and was greeted by Thing. He stood to attention; his stance was alert, but it was clear that he was still excited just to be there.
He even had a bowtie tied around his wrist for the occasion, one she’d never seen before but it was a perfect fit.
“Nice bowtie. Enid?”
He tapped out a confirmation.
“I figured,” she said, then got serious again. “I’m assuming you heard everything that was said?”
Another affirming tap.
“It seems that Tyler is shaping up to be the real prime suspect, but I still want you to keep all five fingers on Xavier. I need to make sure all of my bases are covered, just in case.”
She looked around for her date and found him a few tables away, two drinks sat in front of him. Considering the weird looks he was shooting at Xavier; one could assume that he had seen their discussion. She sighed.
“I should get back before Tyler gets suspicious. Make sure to follow my instructions.” She gave him a look. Then, “Since I know this will be getting dull soon, you can feel free to trip however many people you want. Just make sure it’s within my sightline. I need as much amusement as I can get tonight.”
Thing perked up and gave her an excited thumbs up before scampering back off in Xavier’s direction, likely looking for his next victim along the way.
Once he was out of sight, she made her way over to Tyler, valiantly ignoring the questioning look he was giving her as she took a seat on the other side of the table.
Not one to be deterred, he asked, “What was that about?”
“Nothing that concerns you,” came her easy answer.
“Oh, uh ok,” Tyler stammered. He opened and closed his mouth a few more times (movements still just a bit too scripted to feel real) before sliding one of the cups over to her side of the table.
“I got us the drinks,” he offered, sounding more unsure than he seemed.
“Thanks,” she deadpanned. The cup went untouched, however. She remembered what Xavier said about the punch being spiked, and she had no desire to be inebriated. Especially around Tyler.
Wednesday stared carefully at the boy across from her, watching and waiting for any more unnatural behaviors. But he got suddenly quiet, seeming to actively avoid her gaze, so she turned to survey the dance floor.
The lone black silhouette was easy to spot in a moving sea of white.
You were grinning harder than she’d ever seen before, dancing energetically to a headache-inducing pop song with someone—Eugene, given the curly hair.
It was a mesmerizing sight, seeing you shed your usual reserved nature and be so unrepentantly joyful around so many others.
As she watched you dance and have fun with Eugene, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had made a grave mistake.
She thought back to your earlier reaction when she arrived at the dance, the hurt in your eyes when you saw Tyler. Under the assumption that it wasn’t just a figment of her imagination, could that have been indicative of something?
The idea that you could be harboring feelings for her, mirroring her own current predicament, made her heart race uncomfortably.
If it was true, had she ruined her own chances by pushing you away?
Self-sabotage was an abstract concept to Wednesday. The idea that she would ever hinder her own road to success was laughable. Especially when people like Sheriff Galpin and Principal Weems were content to do that all on their own.
She had always taken what she perceived to be the most logical next step to get her closer to achieving her goals. And that was what she thought she was doing when she pushed you away—eliminating a problem that stood in her way.
But now, being faced with the possibility that she had ruined what she had with you because of her own emotional ineptitude was staggering, inconceivable almost.
Wednesday ruminated over her mother’s parting words to her on her first day at Nevermore.
“You’re a brilliant girl, Wednesday, but sometimes you get in your own way.”
Perhaps her mother held more wisdom than she was willing to give her credit for.
Her self-introspection was halted by Tyler.
“Do…you wanna dance?” he asked, hesitant.
Her answer was immediate. “No.”
Abruptly, someone on her left tripped, falling forward with a piercing squeal and a loud crash. Wednesday smirked. At least Thing was enjoying himself.
The song changed from one loud and irritating pop song to another, prompting more students to flood the dance floor.
Spotting you amongst the chaos was harder, but through a pocket between some students, she was able to catch a glimpse of your dark figure alongside Eugene as the tempo began to pick up.
Some other familiar faces were joining you now, including Enid and her normie not-date, Bianca, who seemingly came to her senses and ditched her date, and a few other people that Wednesday could vaguely remember from the Nightshade’s library. Her lungs burned in her chest despite the abundance of air around her.
It was ironic, she thought, how she felt like she was drowning more now on dry land than she did when she was in the water.
Once again, her observations were interrupted, this time with an angry scoff.
Crossing her arms, Wednesday turned to Tyler, her agitation showing in her voice. “What?”
He released an incredulous laugh at her question, as if she was crazy for even asking.
“You know, I don’t get it, Wednesday. You’ve been distracted all night. First with that werewolf girl, then Xavier, then whoever,” he made an angry gesture in your direction, “that is. What was the point of accepting my invitation if you’re not even going to have the decency to pay attention to me?”
Wednesday forced a sigh through her nose. He was right, but not for the reasons he thought.
She should be using this event to her advantage, taking this time to analyze the boy in front of her for the sake of her investigation. Yet her mind remained steadfast on the thought of you, eyes wanting to get just one more glimpse whenever they possibly could.
She couldn’t begrudge him in his anger here; she knew that she was technically in the wrong, but she wasn’t apologetic either. After all, there was still the chance that he was a serial killer.
A flash of black in her peripherals got her attention. Without turning her head, she looked and saw you heading toward the exit. Her breath stuttered, the urge to get up and follow you pulling painfully at her chest. And for a moment, she genuinely considered it.
In front of her, Tyler banged a fist on the table, successfully bringing her full attention back to him. “You’re doing it again,” he growled out. His fist was clenched so hard that his knuckles were bone white.
The shadows crossed his eyes again, a flash of something malevolent making her dig her nails into her arms. Unflinching, she stared right back with raised brows, practically challenging him to do something, to confirm her rapidly increasing suspicions.
Unfortunately, he didn’t. In the face of her challenge, he backed down and sat back in his chair, posture slumping over once more.
If he was the monster, then he was at least smart enough to pick his battles accordingly.
Wednesday glanced toward the exit again. She knew he was going to make her decide and though it should have been much harder to come up with an answer, she suspected that she had her mind made up from the start.
“Choose,” he demanded, barely loud enough to be heard over the blasting music. “Me or—”
She was on her feet before he could even finish.
Tyler’s shouts of protest went unacknowledged, her feet leading her in the same direction you went. On her way out, she caught Enid’s eyes.
Her roommate flashed her a smile and a thumbs up, to which Wednesday rolled her eyes. But deep down she was glad to have the encouragement. She would likely need it for what came next.
The music faded to a dull roar behind her as she exited the dance, scanning the outside hall for any sign of where you could’ve gone.
Turned out there was no need to search for you because you were right there, on the far side of the room. You were reclined on a bench with your back turned to her, leaning your head against the back of the bench with your eyes closed.
She approached as quietly as possible, her heart thumping so hard she wouldn’t be surprised if it shattered her sternum.
Wednesday had never given much thought to the phrase “absence makes the heart grow fonder” before, thinking it to be a stupid and nauseatingly sappy sentiment. But the ache she felt in her very bones to be close to you again proved her incorrect.
The air chilled the nearer she got to you and the static electricity sparked along her skin. She welcomed both sensations with open arms.
Slowly, she rounded the bench and seated herself on the far side, leaving a generous amount of space between you and her in case you wanted it. With a breath, she broke the quiet.
“Leaving so soon?”
“Taking a break, actually,” you responded, not opening your eyes. “Dancing’s a lot more tiring than it looks and it’s hard to take a breather when there are so many people in there. Too much body heat.”
You didn’t say anything after that and neither did she. Because she wasn’t entirely sure what to say if she was being honest.
Selfishly, she wanted you to just ask. Ask her why she shut you out, why she kept walking every time she saw you. She wanted to know that you, in some capacity, still cared about the work you were doing with her. That you wanted to regain the closeness that she had so swiftly taken away.
More than anything, she wanted to know that you might have missed her. Because she missed you, far more than she had any right to.
And when your voice finally pierced the silence, you did ask her a question, but not the one she wanted to hear.
“How’s the investigation?”
“Still pending, but seminal progress has been made. The suspect list is narrowing steadily,” she informed, keeping her tone neutral.
“Oh?” You raised a brow in her direction. You looked like you wanted to question her further but didn’t. She told you anyway.
“My main suspects at the moment are Xavier and Tyler. That’s why I allowed him to drag me to this horrific affair.”
“I see,” you said quietly. Then, with just a hint of teasing, “And are you having fun?”
She answered with an exasperated look. You looked away with an airy laugh, allowing the thrum of the music to encapsulate the space.
Again, she let the quiet linger to give you an opportunity to speak. She waited and waited but nothing came. It was driving her mad.
Finally, she cracked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“Why aren’t you asking me why I suddenly left? Do you not wish to know?”
Your head dropped, a sad smile creeping onto your face. “No, I just figured it would happen sooner or later. I would wear out my usefulness and you would leave me behind to continue on with your investigation by yourself. I guess it was inevitable.”
Your confession caught her off guard. It was odd to see someone so powerful think so little of themselves. She also noticed how it was now her investigation instead of both of yours.
The connotation made something curdle in Wednesday’s stomach.
All at once, she found herself at an impasse. She wanted you to reach out and give her a sign. A sign that you still wanted to be associated with her. That you still felt something—anything for her. That maybe, just maybe you might want her.
But she also knew that it wasn’t right for her to expect that of you. It was only fair that she, as the one that severed the connection, bridged the gap herself if she truly wanted to make things right.
And she did, she found. She wanted it more than anything.
The ache in her bones deepened and urged her to take that first step off the blistering sands and back into dauntingly unfamiliar waves.
“That’s not why I did it.”
“Hm?” you hummed, turning slightly in her direction. You still weren’t looking at her, instead counting the dark frills on the end of her dress and it was bothering her. She clenched a fist.
“I didn’t leave because you were no longer useful to me,” she said, carefully.
She was neck deep now. The final chance to turn back presented itself, but Wednesday let it pass and plunged her head beneath the water. One final leap of faith to reach you.
“I left you behind because I was developing feelings that far exceeded the bounds of a partnership…or a friendship, for that matter,” she admitted, gripping the bench till her knuckles were white. “I thought that if I parted ways with you then they would disappear.”
It was quiet for a moment, the dull thrum of the music in the next room filling the space between.
Then, “Have they?”
“No,” she admitted after a beat.
The air thickened and it made the simple act of breathing a challenge. Wednesday stayed still, eyes studying even the tiniest movements of your face. That made it easy to spot the beginnings of a smile on your face.
“Good.”
The stutter in her heartbeat returned. She swallowed roughly against the sudden dryness in her mouth. “Good?”
Your smile widened, and for the first time since she sat down beside you, you met her eyes. “Yeah. It’s nice to know that my feelings are reciprocated after months of uncertainty.”
It took a minute for the words to truly register. The electricity turned into rolling waves of thunder in her chest, raging a storm as her heartbeat picked up.
“You…feel the same?”
“Of course,” you said, softly. “How couldn’t I? You’re the most riveting person I’ve ever met, Wednesday.”
Even if she could speak, she wouldn’t know what to say to that. In lieu of a verbal answer, she stood and crossed the distance between you and her.
When she settled back down, she was much closer. So close she could feel the blessed cold of your skin against hers. She took a breath then slowly, tentatively, she rested her head on your shoulder.
Wednesday felt you stiffen under her, then relax again. A moment later, you settled your head on top of hers, your cheek nuzzling the crown of her head. That simple act alleviated the deep-seated ache within her.
Finally, she broke the surface of the water and regained her breath. Floating atop the restless sea with you at her side, helping keep her head above the wild waves. In that moment she felt ethereal and unafraid and free.
She would confront Tyler later, hopefully with you at her side once more. But for now, she wanted to maintain this closeness, this blissful weightlessness, and just be here with you for as long as the universe would allow.
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femsolid · 3 months ago
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Can I ask how does separatism show in your life? Do you have male relatives you have to interact with a lot? I assume you don't have male friends, have you ever had them in the past and at some point you decided "nah, this ain't it"? Are you in a job where you have to interact with men a lot? Do you reduce dealing with men when it comes to other things like avoiding places with men? Sorry I'm just curious about it from someone who lives a separatist life!
It's been very easy. I have no interest in men any more. I don't like their personalities and the misogyny of our daily interactions always jumps out to me (weaponized incompetence, interrupting women, disgusting jokes, main character syndrome, viciousness etc) and I just have no tolerance for it. I'm not a lesbian so I'd say there's 0.1% of men who aren't ugly but they immediately become repulsive to me when the casual sexism comes out, which it inevitably does. I don't understand the "radical" feminists who, after seeing men for what they are, don't feel such repulsion and even claim that we need men to be fulfilled. So I don't date men, don't flirt with men, don't take an interest in their lives, don't play the psychologist for them, don't put extra work for them, don't offer my help etc. I just don't care about men. There's no male relative I still see except for my nephew who is a child. I've cut ties with my father years ago specifically for his misogyny and homophobia. I stand by my moral principals no matter what. I don't have male friends and I never have because I never trusted males nor related to them. And I could never be myself around them. I have male co-workers though, I talk about work with them when I need it. I only have real conversations with my female coworkers. And I only joke with women. As a result, I've noticed, only women sit around me and talk to me at work. The guys have given up. However, my manager is a man which is quite annoying. I keep it minimal with him just like with every other males I'm forced to interact with. I keep it professional and cordial, not friendly and sweet.
I make zero effort to please men physically. No make-up, no tight clothes, no long hair, no shaving, no shutting up, no dainty mannerisms. I'm eating what I want, when I want to, and show no remorse unlike a lot of my female peers. And when I'm angry, I don't hide it. And if I need to say something, I say it. A lot of people assume I'm a lesbian based on the fact that I make no effort to attract men. And it's true that I make no such effort. But I also think that if, to attract men, you have to pretend to be a helpless little thing, you can't call straight or bisexual women "lesbians" just for refusing this humiliation. It's called dignity, not lesbianism.
I like women, I try to help them, prioritize them, support them, reassure them, defend them and push them forward. When a woman speaks negatively about herself, I always jump in to correct her. And when a man attacks a woman I intervene. I distribute compliments and encouragements to women. And I point out the misogyny they confront when they don't see it for what it is. I only debate women because I only value women's mind.
If I have to see a doctor, I'll look for a woman every time. Only and only if I can't find a female doctor close to me will I pick a male doctor. My general practitioner is a woman, my podiatrist is a woman, my psychologist is a woman, my radiologist is a woman, my gastroenterologist is a woman etc. Same with a hear dresser, a masseuse, a fitness coach: only women. I only read books from female authors. I try to watch movies with a woman or girl as the main character. Same with video games or music. Though obviously I'm only human and might enjoy a movie or song made by a male sometimes. I try to support female artists and creators by promoting them, buying from them, giving them nice reviews. I avoid places that are filled with men like a gym or café or profession or online space, and I gravitate towards places filled with women.
That's it, that's my daily life. It's taking care of myself and valuing women. It's easy because I enjoy it and it feels natural. I'm following what my guts have always told me. Feminism simply helped me verbalize it.
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tomorrowusa · 6 months ago
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Silicon Valley has its own variety of racism. And you'll never guess who is the leading figure in spreading this poisonous ideology. [CLUE: He left South Africa at age 18 when the country had just begun the process of eliminating apartheid and moving to majority black rule.]
Racist pseudo-science is making a comeback thanks to Elon Musk. Recently, the tech billionaire has been retweeting prominent race scientist adherents on his platform X (formally known as Twitter), spreading misinformation about racial minorities’ intelligence and physiology to his audience of 176.3 million followers—a dynamic my colleague Garrison Hayes analyzes in his latest video for Mother Jones. X, and before it Twitter, has a long-held reputation for being a breeding ground for white supremacy. [ ... ] Musk is amplifying users who will incorporate cherry-picked data and misleading graphs into their argument as to why people of European descent are biologically superior, showing how fringe accounts, like user @eyeslasho, experience a drastic jump in followers after Musk shares their tweets. The @eyeslasho account has even thanked Musk for raising “awareness” in a thread last year. (Neither @eyeslasho nor Musk, via X, responded to Garrison’s request for an interview.) “People are almost more susceptible to simpler charts with race and IQ than they are to the really complicated stuff,” Will Stancil, a lawyer and research fellow at the Institute on Metropolitan Opportunity, told Garrison in a video interview. He added: “This is the most basic statistical error in the book: Correlation does not equal causation.”
Racist pseudo-science simply sprays cologne on the smelly bullshit of plain old irrational bigotry. Warped theology, which was used to justify slavery, passed the baton of officially sanctioned race prejudice to pseudo-science in the late 19th and early 20th century.
DNA and other real science not only undermine the pseudo-science of racism but has revealed that "race" is not even a valid scientific concept among humans. What is widely regarded as race is defined by rather generalized phenotypes.
There has always been petty bigotry. But racial pseudo-science has been used to justify exploitation, colonialism, and territorial expansion by the powerful and ignorant. Elon Musk certainly qualifies as both powerful and ignorant.
In 2022, just one week after Musk purchased Twitter, the Center for Countering Digital Hate —an online civil rights group— found that racial slurs against Black people had increased three times the year’s average, with homophobic and transphobic epithets also seeing a significant uptick, according to the Associated Press. More than a year later, Musk made headlines once again for tweeting racist dog whistles in a potential attempt to “woo” a recently fired Tucker Carlson. But, his new shift into sharing tech-bro-friendly bigotry carries its own unique set of consequences.
If you are still on Twitter/X then you are indirectly supporting the propagation of pseudo-scientific racism – as well as just plain hate. Like quitting alcohol and tobacco, ditching Twitter/X can be difficult. But after doing so, you'll eventually notice how much better you feel.
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