#they’re saying violent slurs at me

[lesbian--thespian]

“did you know that i have brown hair??”

-my friend on call who happens to be one of the brightest, yellowest, golden-haired, and possibly adopted person i know

“just kidding haha.”

@numerous-beess this is you. in case you couldn’t tell this is you. i know we’re still on call, but im referencing you. that is the most unfunny and yet hilarious shit i’ve ever heard from you, keep it up buddy

[doghart]

too many people getting too brave about justifying violent language/fantasies towards the children in disco elysium for the perceived equal wrong done to you. quickly. explain to me why a child deserved to be beat or killed or calling your forty+ year old grown adult cop character a faggot

[kennedybaby]

HOW DID YOU GET THAT WAY?

YOU DON'T EVEN HIDE HOW YOU FEEL.

18+ / semi-rough sex, exes fucking, female! reader. that's all. i giggled while writing this.

Letting Jason into your apartment past midnight only meant one thing. It's arguing slash fucking. Sure, it's a bad combination, you're his ex— his favorite ex. At least, that's what he told you. Being a hopeless romantic with a pussy that longs for no one but your ex, you happily let him inside when he decides to come over after patrol.

Jason knows you love it. As much as he hates letting you get under his skin, he loves taking out his anger on you.

“Fuck you.” Funny.

He's been trying to get your shorts off while you blabbered about how Roy and you have been flirting back and forth. It’s dumb, he shouldn’t care that his ex and his best friend are flirting with each other. But he does. That’s why he’s here, holding you down to the couch with his jeans gathered around his ankles and his throbbing cock pressed against your dripping pussy. Besides, he knows you're bluffing— Jason knows you'd say anything to make him jealous. And God does he hates how much it works on him.

Jason had the tip of his cock rubbing furiously between your folds, coating them with your slick as he looked down at you. “You’re bullshitting me, [Name].” He huffed, cheeks flushed as his hands gripped onto your sides. “Am not.��� You playfully said to him, poking your tongue out as you grind yourself against him. He lets out a deep groan, pushing your hips down as he shoots you a glare.

“Yes, you are.” He rolled his eyes, his thumb reached down to push the head of his cock into your pussy. His lips curled into a smirk when he heard a gasp leaving your lips, “You’re just saying that to make me jealous.” He mutters under his breath, burying himself deeper inside of you as his knees digs into your bed.

“No. Roy and I—”

“Shut up.” He puts his hand over your mouth, muffling down your protests as he easily buries himself deeper inside of you due to how wet you are. And to be honest, he'd hundred percent sure you were soaking your panties the second he went inside of your apartment. Your fingers curled around his shirt, “I hate youuuuuu. Shooo much." Your words slurred as your lips formed a small pout, your eyes flickers down to watch the way his cock stretches you, your lips spread around him as Jason pushes himself in and out of you.

“Just… don’t get why… you’re this mad over me flirting with Roy.” A long whine left your lips before you looked back up at him, the bed underneath your weight violently creaked as your nails dragged on his back. “Not my fault, I have needs.” You huffed, furrowing your brows as Jason let out a breathy chuckle when you put up a frown on your face.

“You have me.”

“You’re my ex.”

“And?”

He slammed his hips into you right before you got to say anything, a sheen layer of sweat coating your body as you threw your head back. “Just stop talking about him when I’m balls deep in you, it’s weird. Talk about me instead.” It feels nice, sort of satisfying to know you at least made him sort of jealous that it’s enough to get him to pins you down and fills up every crevices of your wet cunt.

“No fun.” You muttered under your breath, arms curling around his neck as you pulled him down for a kiss. His lips quickly capture yours, ignoring the way your teeth clash against his so long as he has your lips on his own. “Nah, just like it better when you're moaning about how big my dick is.” He flashed you a toothy grin, fingers gripping your waist as he slightly lift your hips to thrust deeper. The veins on his cock rubbing against your gummy walls, a small bump on your lower stomach shows up every time he pushes himself deeper.

“They’re not… big.” You pants in between words, head tilts back into your pillow. He bits his bottom lip back when he felt your pussy squeezes around him, sucking him in. Your eyes turning watery from the pleasure, lashes thick with tears as he clenched his teeth. “Yeah, right." Jason lets out a scoff, pulling back away from you for a split second as he turned your body over as your stomach lay flat on your couch, his hand pressed flat on your back before he forced you to keep your hips up.

His cock finds its way back buried inside of your sopping cunt, your ass pressed against his pelvis as he gripped your hips. His fingers leaving red marks on tour skin, “You better keep your ass up.” There’s a certain firmness in his voice, his eyes looking down at you when you tilts your head to the side to looked back at him. Jason leans down to lean his chin on your shoulder, his lips hovering your ear as he slowly rocks his hips into your again.

“Gotta remind my ex girlfriend who she belonged to again.”

whoever reading this, please send anything sexy about dc men or women... I AM DYING TO JUST RANT ABT THEM c: sorry for the blue balls ending!!!!

[fairuzfan]

would you classify “jihadist” as a slur? personally i feel like it’s mainly used by islamophobic white people who want to demonise and antagonise muslim people.

tbh even “islamists” feels like a slur. like no muslim calls themselves these terms. and i’ve only ever heard these be used when white people are trying to spread hate.

i think there needs to be more discussion within western communities on the language surrounding muslims and arabs (because they love conflating the two). people should be held accountable for saying islamophobic shit just as much as they’re held accountable for saying any other sort of slur/hateful comment.

honestly "islamist" doesn't even make sense as a term to me because like what do you mean? its different from "islamic extremists" (which is kinda a vague term in itself) because it implies something intrinsic to islam that is violent and shady that muslims are trying to push. are you saying that salafis for example represent the majority of muslims? if so, i personally would disagree lol. its a super vague term that doesn't mean anything other than "i hate muslims."

"jihadist" also doesn't make sense because islamically speaking, jihad is a pretty wide concept that means different things in different scenarios. im not going to go too much into this, but "jihad" doesn't mean anything involving armed conflict intrinsically. the way i learned it is that its a "struggle" you do in the name of Allah. so things like studying to be a doctor (as long as it's for the purpose to please God) can be considered jihad. so like, when people use "jihadist" in the west im like.... ok... you clearly don't know the history and context and you're vilifying the concept of jihad overall.

you're right, i agree that these terms are only ever used to vilify and spread hate. when people use these terms they show me what type of person they are. and even when they call people terrorists (which in the united states, terror laws were specifically conceived and strengthened to criminalize palestinian resistance, even unarmed) its obvious that they're doing this to de-legitimize. because they never call israel terrorists because its state sanctioned violence. they view anything that isn't a "state" as terror activity because they consider the state as the only legitimate use of force and violence. israel was literally founded on terrorism of palestinians. but they never use those words to describe israel, do they?

but yeah i generally don't take people who say these things seriously and i don't think anyone should either. of course there are terror groups around the world that are LEGIT terrorists, but when talking about palestine, the media and even the law only calls palestinians terrorists. i dont know how to combat it other than rolling my eyes and talking over them tho. this is a problem within media overall thats so widespread.

[joeybsversion]

Trouble

Joe Burrow x Reader

Your friends and family aren’t fond of Joe

“Seriously, he’s trouble. I can’t believe you’re going out with him.” Your friend scoffed, turning off the end of the Bengals game.

“He’s not trouble!” You defend him. “Really, he’s a nice guy!”

“Oh really? Is that why you’ve refused to tell your parents you’re dating him?”

“They’re just not big Bengal fans. It has nothing to do with Joe.” You lied as your friend rolled her eyes.

You had been secretly dating Joe Burrow, the Cincinnati Bengals Quarterback for 7 months now. It’s true, most people weren’t fond of Joe. He comes across as cocky, rude, and privileged. Plus his current bad boy edit doesn’t help much. Joe had recently gotten himself into trouble. He’s found a love for partying, blowing his money, and being reckless. All causing excess fame and a negative spotlight, something you wanted to avoid.

“Are you sure it has nothing to do with the fact that he got suspended from games for legal trouble? Or has shown up to practice violently hungover?”

“How’d you hear about that?” You questioned.

She laughed, “It’s all over the news. He’s gonna get himself into some real trouble and not have a career here soon.”

“He’s working on turning things around. Really. I swear.” You do your best to defend him again. You seem to be doing that a lot lately. “Plus we’ve only been seeing each other for a few months. I’m just having fun.”

“I know, and I’m happy for you. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” She reaches out and takes your hand. “But I know none of that is going to change your mind, so go have fun tonight.”

“I love you. If my mom asks, I’m here!” You remind her and head out the door, “Your pizza should be here soon and I logged into my Netflix account!” You figured if your friend has to spend the night posted up in her room to cover for you, you might as well take care of her.

You hopped into your car and headed over to Joes house, he was throwing a party after the game. Joe’s parties were always fun, usually a little wild, and typically ended with the police kicking people out and shutting things down. As much as Joe was trying to work past his bad boy edit, he couldn’t help it. He’s young and having fun.

The loud music from Joe’s house is rattling your car as you pull into his driveway. He’s outside on the porch with some teammates smoking a cigar.

As you walk through his thick cloud of smoke and clear the air in front of your face with your hand, Joe pulls you into a hug.

“There’s my baby.” His words slurred, you’re unsure if it’s from alcohol or the thick cigar pressed between his lips.

“Hi, Joey.” You wrap your arms around his waste and snuggle into his chest. “Good game, congrats on the win.”

He pulls the cigar from his mouth, “I want you to come to the next one.” He smiles.

“Me? At the game? Isn’t it in a different state?” You question, suddenly nervous. You and Joe had been casually dating, nothing was public yet.

“The next home game.” He laughs, blowing a thick cloud of smoke over your head. “2 weeks.”

“I’ll think about it.” You try and reassure him.

“Think about it?” He asks offended.

“Well, yeah..I don’t… I’m not sure…” you feel his arms drop from around you. “I’m not sure I’m ready to go public yet.” You nervously tell him.

“It’s a football game. Not a red carpet.” He says annoyed.

“I know but…”

He cuts you off “It’s fine. Don’t come.”

“Joe I want to!” You reassure him.

“Seems like it.” He scoffs before heading inside, you following close behind.

“Joe I do! Really, there’s nothing I’d love more! I just still haven’t told many people about us, and you know, you haven’t had the best press lately and I don’t want to mess that up anymore for you and I just worry that-“

He presses the cigar to your mouth “take this.” He laughs cutting you off. “I’m sorry about the press. I’m working on it. Tomorrow I have a fun event at the elementary school. Next week, the high school. And the whole team is volunteering at the blood drive. Nothing but positive press up until the game.”

“Wow, what’s next? Taking a shift at the old folks home? Serving in the soup kitchen?” You tease.

He rolls his eyes, “So are you coming to the game or not?”

“I guess you better find me a Burrow jersey, because I’ll be there.” You smile.

The rest of the night is a blur. Lots of drinks, lots of dancing, too many sweaty bodies, and even louder music. You wake up the next morning tangled up in bed with Joe. His heavy arm around your waste and soft breathing on the backside of your neck. You slowly loosen his grip and start to make your way out of bed.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He grumbles, barely audible.

“Home.” You slip your shoes on. “And you need to get up too. Your elementary school meet and greet starts in 45 minutes.” You sit down on the side of the bed again. “I don’t think the elementary school principal appreciates his guest of honor showing up smelling like a mini bar.”

“You’re probably right.” He slowly starts to sit up. “I’ll reserve some spots for you for the game.” He says. “Any request on where you want to sit?”

All the nerves come back. “Doesn’t matter.” You smile at him, wishing you could avoid the game all together. It’s not that you were ashamed to be with him, you were just anxious about what people, especially your parents will say. “I’m gonna get out of here.” You quickly excuse yourself, not sure if the sudden butterflies in your stomach are from drinking too much, or the next home game.

You call your best friend on your way and tell her all about the game.

“You’re gonna have to tell your parents.”

“I can’t! They will freak if they find out I’ve been dating him!”

“So are you going to keep your relationship a secret forever?”

“I don’t know I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Well scratch that thought, it’s not a secret anymore.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Check your phone.”

As you pull in your parents drive way, you pull out your phone to see a news article your friend sent you, a picture of you and Joe is on the front page. “Where did you find this?” You panicked.

“I was just checking E! News. It looks like every major magazine is covering it now!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” You sigh, “I have to tell them now. I’ve got to go, but I’ll call you later. I’ll probably need some support.”

“Good luck!” She says and ends the call.

“You’re WHAT?” You dad hollers, slamming down the news paper he was reading.

“Dad, he’s a nice guy. Really I -“

“No. The little romance you guys having going on is over. I can’t believe this. You’re such a good girl, why would you want to be with someone like him?”

“He’s nothing like what the press makes him out to be. He’s actually really kind, and supportive, and is volunteering a lot for the community.”

“I don’t care if he’s the president. You are not being seen with someone like him.”

“About that..”

“What?”

“Well the news got pictures of me at his house last night and leaked a story.” You hide your face in your hands.

“At his house?” Your mom questions. “So you’ve been lying to us? Clearly he’s a bad influence to be hanging around.”

“I lied because I knew you would react like this. You’re not even giving him a chance.”

“I’ve never seen you defend someone like this. What is going on?”

“I’m…”

Your dad crosses his arms across his chest “I’m in love with him. And I’m going to be with him and support him no matter how you feel. You don’t know him like I do.”

“I’ve never seen you fight for someone like this.”

“Because, I love him.”

Your dad sighs, “I don’t know if I like the sound of that. But I’m willing to give him a chance. Why don’t you invite him over.”

“Really?!”

“Like I said,” he pauses, “I’m not crazy about him, but I can tell that you, and for that reason, I want to get to know him.”

A few hours later, Joe shows up on your front porch and confidently knocks on the front door.

“Hi Joey.” You greet him with a smile and hug. “You look great… did you iron your shirt?” You tease him, brushing a hand across his perfectly pressed shirt.

“Steamed it actually.” He smiles, “I wanted to make a good impression.” He nervously takes your hand and follows you into the house.

“Mom, Dad, this is Joe.” You awkwardly present him to your parents.

He politely shakes their hands and takes a seat at the table next to you.

You feel his hand find its way to your thigh, his palms are sweaty, and his fingers are nervously tapping across your leg. You reassuringly take his hand into yours and lightly rub across the top and share a confident smile.

At the end of dinner, you and Joe excuse yourselves and you walk him to the porch.

“They loved you.” You kiss him.

“I’m so relieved.”

“My dad even wants to go to the game with me!”

He laughs, “I’ll get extra tickets.”

Relieved that your parents were pleased with Joe, you walked him out, he kissed you goodnight, and you sent him on his way home.

It’s official and the world knows, you’re in love with Joe Burrow.

[sereneres]

“ln yn forgetting she’s an idol f…” ⁰

le sserafim x lsfm 6th member!reader / 1.1k

summary. — “ln yn forgetting she’s an idol for five minutes and a few seconds (aka yn having no filter).”

warnings. — cursing / somewhat vulgar language / typical slurring from lsfm!yn / yn encouraging parasocial activities / video-format by @/jihyoruri

“unnie, stop touchin’ m’like that.”

chaewon blinks. yunjin freezes. kazuha promptly looks away from the camera, desperately trying–and failing–to hold back her laughter. eunchae was already snorting. sakura, in an attempt to do damage control, continued talking cheerfully to the camera, subtly shifting so that she could cover whatever was happening behind her with her head.

“practice has been pretty hard.” she says, sighing. “not because the dance is hard, though that’s a reason too, but because it ends pretty late into the night.”

“yah, ln yn!” chaewon’s voice is heard, followed by the sound of skin hitting skin–likely her hand slapping some part of your body–and a muffled yelp. “if you say things like that, people are going to misunderstand!”

“but unnie, you keep touchin’ me ‘n weird places.” the younger whines. “what else ‘m i s’pposed t’say?”

sakura, having given up, just slumped onto the floor, letting those watching the live see what was happening behind her.

chaewon was practically on top of you, shaking you back and forth by your shoulders. yunjin was snickering as she attempted to get the leader off of you with little to no success. eunchae was still laughing, her face red, and kazuha, at somepoint, had joined in on her laughter.

“ln yn!” chaewon screams, her cheeks reddening. “you’re an idol, for goodness sake, an idol! don’t say that kind of thing!”

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“‘where is yn?’”

“yn is currently preoccupied in the kitchen.” chaewon answered, eyeing something off screen. “both kazuha and eunchae are helping her which is why they aren’t here either.”

“they’re making cookies.” yunjin added, smiling. “erm, chocolate chip cookies, if i’m not–”

the sound of a door opening violently interrupts the american’s words, and the two girls on screen look to their left with surprised looks on their faces.

“chaewon’nie, the stove’s ‘n fire.” following your words is the high pitched beeping of what is undoubtedly the dorms fire alarms going off.

“what?!” chaewon stands up, with yunjin following suit. “what do you mean it’s on fire?!”

“‘s ‘n fire.”

yunjin, seemingly having remembered that the live was still going on, quickly ducked into view of the camera. “sorry, guys, we’ll be right back.”

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“ow, ow, fuck, ow–”

sakura, frowning, looked over to where you were presumably standing off screen. “ynnie, are you alright?”

she isn’t facing the camera, her head turned just enough so that those watching could tell she was worried by how tense her jaw was but not enough that they could see how her eyes had widened in alarm. you had cursed, after all, and in the middle of a live no less.

“m’fine, jus’ slammed the cabinet on m’finger.” you murmured, trudging into view with a hand wrapped tightly around your wounded finger. “it really hurt, ‘kura-unnie.”

oddly enough, you don’t seem all that worried about having potentially ruined your image as an idol by cursing. if anything, it seemed as though you hadn’t realized you had cursed aloud at all.

sakura, who is more than worried enough for the both of you, hums in response, absentmindedly checking your finger as she glanced at the live’s comment section. fortunately, it looked like no one was put out by your cursing, finding it more hilarious than upsetting.

“‘nnie, why’re they all laughin’? did somethin’ funny happen?”

“err… not exactly.”

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“unnie, wou’d you accept a kiss fro’me as a present?”

yunjin blinks, visibly stunned by your words. chaewon and sakura, both having realized just what you said, glance at the staff member standing behind the camera nervously. eunchae and kazuha, on the other hand, had quickly got over their shock and were giving you incredulous looks.

“oh my god-”

“…’s tha a yes or a no?”

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“ln yn, just what do you think you are doing?”

you freeze, giving sakura a panicked look–to which she responds with an amused smile–before slowly turning around to face your angry leader. “erm, h’llo, chaewon’nie.”

“hand.”

behind you, you could faintly hear yunjin and eunchae whispering about how chaewon sounded like she was speaking to a dog, ordering for it to give her a paw or something.

chaewon, unamused by your lack of response, both verbally and physically, raised a brow. “yn.”

you sigh, reluctantly doing as the older girl ordered and give her your hand, where a long cut glared an angry red on your skin.

“ooh~ unnie is in trouble~” eunchae murmured, smiling innocently at you when you turned to glare at her.

“yn, how did you get this?”

“…erm, i accident’lly stabbed m’self with scissors?…”

yunjin chortled, enjoying the scene before her all too much. “cut, more like.”

“not helping, unnie.”

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“‘kura-unnie’s basically m’ sugar m’mmy.” you mumbled to the camera, eagerly showing off the brand new pair of sneakers you had gotten–been gifted–earlier that day. “see? she bought m’ the shoes i was lookin’ at the other day.”

eunchae, who had been quiet until this moment leans into view of the camera, snorted. “unnie, you call anyone who’s ever bought you anything your sugar mommy.”

“sug-ar mom-my?” kazuha repeated slowly, tilting her head as she turned to look at chaewon, who sighed and shook her head with a look of disappointment on her face.

noticing how irritated the leader looked, the ballerina wisely decided to stay quiet and mind her own business.

“‘m not wrong though.” you point out to the unimpressed girl. “‘kura-unnie ‘s really m’sugar m’mmy. she buys me s’much stuff…” you giggle sleepily, turning back to the camera. “th’nk you, ‘kura-unnie~”

at that, chaewon, probably having realized just how… weird the conversation has gotten, clicked her tongue, drawing both your and eunchae’s attention.

“should i tell her to stop buying you things then?” she asked rhetorically, an eyebrow raised. “after all, we can’t have an idol, much less a girl group idol, being called ‘sugar mommy’ by one of her members…”

panicked, you sit up. “s’rry ‘nnie, i’ll ask ‘em to cut it out, ‘kay? don’t tell ‘kura-unnie anythin’!”

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“to those who’re sayin’ that they wanna marry me…” you start absentmindedly, staring at the screen of your phone before raising your head to look at the camera. “‘you bein’ serious? ‘cause if you are…”

[ lsfms#1fan: yes. desperatehoe: YES?!!! reasonableperson: uh no r u not a minor??? desperatehoe#2: PLEASE BE MY GIRFLRIEDNHSJQBWBS ]

reading the more or less desperate comments your fans were making, you smile lazily, though it looks more like a smirk than anything else.

“if tha’s the case, then,” you continued, clearing your throat as you kept your eyes on the camera. “please sign a prenup agreement.” from the corner of your eye, you could see a variety of confused comments. “then, and only then, will i consider being married to you.”

masterlist.

[beautifulbrainrot]

my brain is ROTTING cuz like

just picture sub remus or regulus or EVEN JAMES with tutor!reader and ur jus playing w him while he reads out of a book or answers the questions to ur little quiz

"fuck-" "what does murtlap essence help with?" "i-i don't know- please. slow down- can't focus- please."

n ugh it's like in the dorm or even the common room n ur just whispering. "keep it down honey, didn't you say you wanted to be my good boy?" " 'm your good boy.. please.. fuck...." omfg n everytime he gets smth wrong u get him right to the edge and then.... nothing. his tummy caves in as his cute little cock twitches violently. "imsorryplease." it comes out slurred and more like a whine than anything n hes tryna get u to touch him again. "please let me cum... please.. i've been s-so good."

i want to bite them ugh

FUCKKKK

oh god, yes!!!!

okay so omfg, i need this. my boys are sooooo cute, and they’d be even cuter when they’re all fucked out and desperate AHHH

your like actually in my brain omfg

i NEED to write somthing on this, but i can choose which of my boys to do it with!!!!

i might do reg, cus im like obsessed with him rn, but omfggg

“didn’t you say you wanted to be my good boy?” FUCKING HELL

[neosero]

[ 01:15pm ]

and sometimes you have to remind yourself they’re gods

p.ii | fontaine version

[ 12:30am ] and yet, you still resist

word count | 7.5k total

noteworthy warnings | gn!reader; excessive use of the word ‘you’ sorry lol; rushed fiction; dark themes [ ? ]; violent/gory descriptions [ ? ] ( venti ); false descriptions of the archon war, implied kidnapping ( zhongli ); false post-cataclysm descriptions; inazuma spoilers for new players ( ei ); implied sag!au ( nahida ); version 3.2 spoilers and beyond ( special mention o.o );

if you find any of these warnings uncomfortable scroll away. viewer discretion is advised.

THE ANEMO ARCHON Lord Barbatos | wc. 1.5k+

Venti had always been known to chug down one too many kegs of wine when given the chance.

Although he slurs about the price going to his tab, it is always you who has to fix up every mess. Whether it be ending fist fights, pleading with angry bartenders or paying half his tabs in compensation, the guy really knows how to ruin someone’s night.

“It wasn’t my fault this time.” Venti’s whining starts right off the bat, not caring that you have barely made it any distance from the bar. It's clear with the way he stumbles that he has long since past his limit. Your arm securely holds him by the shoulder opposite of you, an attempt to steady his wobbly footing although the sigh from his lips tells you he believes the touch is something else. 

“I don’t need your excuses, Barbatos.” Your words are hushed but still harsh. His body deflates at the sound of his name used in such a tone, however he still refuses to relent.

“I promise you it wasn’t me who started it. The guy was…mouthing about everyone in there; he started saying nasty stuff about Brook’s drinks, called my music terrible and he then started…” saying things about you.

Well the guy attempted to until Venti stood from his stool, the force of the movement - or so he explained - must have tipped the drink over and spilled all over the poor guy’s clothes. Of course he got angry, who wouldn’t but when he started shouting about payment that’s when things took a turn. When Venti declined and left to grab another bottle the guy rushed him. It wasn’t his fault the guy was so drunk he missed the swing and stumbled off so badly he tripped and broke his nose. But it wasn’t like you were gonna believe a word coming from his mouth, he’s played the intoxicated card too much for it to have just been an accident this time around.

“I know you pushed him.” He opens his mouth to retort, “I know you pushed him because candles just don’t blow out within a closed bar with no windows, Barbatos. I know you pushed him because that man explained it felt like he was being shoved into the ground when he fell, Barbatos. I know you pushed him because this has been the same story with you for the last three weeks! By the gods, what has gotten into you?”

You’ve both gotten far enough from Springvale to talk freely, but hearing your voice carry in the winds of the quiet forest hurts a lot more than being scolded in front of the dozen or so citizens. You come across an abandoned supply wagon and take this as a moment to stop. By helping Venti up the back of the wagon to sit on its edge, you take the time to look him over. It is always surprising how he comes back unscathed from every encounter; not a single hair out of place, nor smudge of cheap alcohol anywhere on his clothes or lingering scent of said alcohol anywhere in the air - only noticeable when close enough to his lips. Venti sways in his seat, head hung low like a child who's been told off by their parents and sometimes it feels like just that. You sigh.

“I’m not upset with you.” The change in your tone makes his head raise and a noticeable color return to his face.

Yeah, just like a child.

“I just wish you’d fix whatever you have going on with you right now. I have a lot on my plate as is with the Knights of Favonius and getting everything I can with that Snezhnayain diplomat. I had to leave a meeting that could have been a pivotal breakthrough with them today because of you!”

You don’t see it with how you fix the legs of your armored plating, but Venti rolls his eyes. He knows about the plans of the Cryo Archon. He knows a lot more than what he lets on to the traveler or anyone else who inquiries about the matter; there's a reason he normally steers clear of the Adventures Guild’s Katherine. Still the more he relays the information to you, warnings upon warnings of caution, you don’t listen. It is demeaning knowing what little trust you have for your own god, let alone having to continue this conversation every night.

“...and you might not take this seriously, Venti, but it's really disappointing.”

“You're more disappointed that I ruined date night.” Venti had tried to hold it in, he really did but hearing you praise that woman Signora over giving praise to your own archon would make any one of Celestia’s chosen snap. He stands then, the most sober movement he has had all night and you scoff.

“Oh may Celestia take me now! This again? For the last and final time I am simply working with the women. It’s my job and whatever I do shouldn’t matter to you.”

“And why is that?” 

“Because you are a god!” The winds pick up, there is a clear green gleam in his eyes you’ve never seen before. “People offer prayers to you daily. They work and celebrate all in your name. You used to split mountains, Barbatos…What I do should be insignificant to the eyes of someone like you: our supposedly high and mighty deity.”

“It's high time you act like it.”

There is a heavy thudding in the distance, you turn around missing the clear shake in Venti’s hands. The wind rages on stirring the clouds above but you don’t care as you catch sight of a Mitachurl barreling in your direction. Clearly your shouting stirred it somehow and with how fast it's charging there is no room to run.

You draw your sword and stand in front of Venti as protection, “Damn. We’ll continue this later.” He’s gone quiet and when you dare to look away from the charging beast to see your archon, your skin runs cold. He’s bleeding in his right hand, fist balled so tight he shakes as he breaks skin and it runs down to evaporate before it hits the ground. His lyre rests in his left but it's different; the strings, once a vibrant glow of green, run a deep dark red almost the same color as the blood on his skin.

“Vent-” you begin to call out but the words are cut off by the heavy shout before you. You turn your neck quickly to see the Mitachurl with its ax raised high, about to strike. When had it gotten so close? You brace yourself ready to hold off the blunt force as best you can, turning again to shout for Venti to move.

But he strums his first note.

This sound is far different then what you’re used to. What was once a gentle, harmonic strumming of a lyre blessed in the winds, now feels dissonant. The sound is a deep vibration one that could only be described when hitting the wrong keys at the end of a piano in quick concession. A sound you feel breach into the roots of your lungs and pry out all the air you have stored.

You can’t breathe.

The sword falls from your hands as you frantically clutch your chest. Your legs wobble and your head is hammering, the need to breath is overwhelming but with every harsh breath you take in it all seems to be sucked out.

“Barbat-”

“You want a god. I’ll show you god.”

Barbatos strums his second note. 

This sound has a higher pitch, the noise most quickly catches you as that of a violin when you bring it’s bow down with a little too much pressure against the wrong chord. There’s a force to this note, one you must assume was the same the guy at the bar felt as you are shoved into the wagon. The force of the blow leaves you more winded then you were before. All your strength feels drained from your body and your knees give out. There is no time to recover though…

Not when Lord Barbatos pulls at his third and final string.

You don’t register this one, the ringing in your ears and overall loss of oxygen leaving you closer and closer to the brink of unconsciousness. Even so you watch him toy with the string. The wind has picked up and now you notice the Mitachurl raised in the air, it struggles with its head thrashing about. Venti turns to you, a smile crazed and eyes dim.

Then he lets the string go.

It's hard to watch. Wind isn’t a visible thing, but in this very moment you pinpoint just where the breeze shifts and changes as it tears through the beast limb from limb. Arms and legs twist and bend, its chest constricts slowly and its head rotates like an owl with a chorus of loud cracks of bones; if it wasn’t for how close you feel to the brink of death yourself you know the sounds of the snapping and screams would have killed you alone. Barbatos stares still. 

It doesn’t last long, the sheer horror of it all ends quickly as the Mitachurl is compressed into the origin of the tornado it's caught in until it blows in a rain of blood. The loss of oxygen finally gets to you as your eyes drift but not before seeing the finale of your oh so mighty deity. 

He stands unmoving as the blood pours down in a shower along his face, eyes now closed, “disappointed in your god now?”

THE GEO ARCHON Rex Lapis | wc. 1.6k+

Six-thousand years ago, the start of the Archon War.

A long and painful four-thousand years of battle over a couple seats at the throne that was already predetermined. Four-thousand years wasted away killing friends and family and loved ones for power they themselves now wish to throw away. A lot of gods didn’t want to be a part of this…holy massacre - or whatever these scholars wish to paint it as - and you were one of them. You were given many names for your time: Theia, Anthos, Gia. The only thing that remains certain within all books of history is your ability to create elemental stones.

Ascension silver, within today’s terms, was a skill none could manage; for being a god who could bond to a multitude of elements at once was beyond even the original seven of Celestia. The gems you produced offered various needs opposed to the power of visions; pyro silver for warmth, hydro silver to be shattered and give rain, geo crystals for fortitude in times of terrible weather, dendro crystals to fertilize plants, cryo silver to cool in the warmer weathers and electro silver to strengthen weapons for combat. It all could be found in the midst of your domain.

Your domain resided in the Huaguang Stone Forest, within the underbelly of Mt. Aocang. It was just a large hollowed cave filled with crystals and home to a small community of humans. They traded off the crystals you produced, for food and supplies, holding festivals and village gatherings under your name. When they needed protection, your crystal walls provided and the Vishaps, organic creatures of your creation, helped protect those from outside.

All was good, all was at peace. 

Until six-thousand years ago, the start of the Archon War.

Tremors grew in both number and extremity over time. Your people starved and scared as trade drew to a halt and more and more outsiders flocked for your domain for protection. The energy of fellow gods and people you once thought would grow old together die out like the stars one by one. However, within your domain all was good, all was at peace, all was protected.

Or so you thought until you met Rex Lapis, the self proclaimed God of Geo, four-thousand years ago during the Archon War.

He requests your assistance, he speaks of monsters and demons emerging from the earth of Guili Plains and that without you they would consume the earth and all within it. You were hesitant to believe him, not when he stormed in covered in the blood of gods and an army of yaksha armed tooth and nail to your fortress of peace. When you speak of the wellbeing of your people he promises to ensure their safety with a few of his yaksha, but when you question him further its General Musatas who warns you to watch your tongue when speaking to one of the chosen seven. Thinking back about it now that should have been the first sign of danger; putting your trust in a god fighting to be apart of the corrupt Celestia. But your people needed more help than what you could provide alone, and you still young and naive wanted to believe that the word of the god of gods was absolute.

So you leave and for a thousand years you fight for a cause you thought to be pointless. You watch gods die, your crystal shields only doing so much in the onslaught of war. Whenever you came close to being wounded it was Morax who protected you from harm time and time again. Taking the blunt force of claws and the heavy pummeling from Osial, all to keep you from harm's way. You had thought it was admirable…if only that same persistence was there for Guizhong.

When she perished on the battlefield you all were pushed back. In a last stand against the enemy you took hold at Mt. Tianheng, and it was there we prospered. Rex Lapis’ sheer power and battle strategy in command of the adeptus and five general yaksha pushed through for the victory and settlement of Liyue. It was then the god of contracts requested a binding: all remaining adeptus would stand to protect Liyue if danger ever stirred once again.

And once again you were a fool to trust the words of the god of gods. 

For the others were allowed to roam as they pleased until called upon and you were to remain within Liyue Harbor forever at the side of your god Rex Lapis. He claimed it was for protection, your powers being the strongest he’s seen for a lifetime, however you could only recall being of no help to protect the ones you hold dear on the battle field. 

You fight, complain and wrestle against his iron grip but the contract holds still. As the Harbor prospered and grew over the years, it left you with the stronger desire to see your people once again. A request with the yaksha would fall on deaf ears as they were still to handle the aftermath within the Plains, but when talk of corruption and madness spread among the masses you had feared the worst. Against your better judgment you left, you thought the wellbeing of your people is more important than the loyalty you have in some god.

When you return to the Stone Forest, you’re enveloped with a sense of home. You spot Cloud Retainer at the top of the peak, but she is gone before you can offer a wave. When you finally reach the door to your domain your heart drops. The Geovishaps who stand guard are nowhere to be found and the energy of your barrier left so long ago has run dry. Even with the clear signs, you still push forward and believe in the word of Morax.

Still so young and naive.

The domain is bathed in dried blood. There are bodies upon bodies of your people scattered along the floor, their blood painted over your crystals and the bodies of yakshas having killed everyone else looked to have turned against each other. Tears of pure silver fall from your eyes as you make way through your temple, a last ditch effort for hope of any survival…for anything.

Everything lays in shambles - crystal decoration of your own design shattered across the floor, Vishaps of all ages lifeless and unmoving just like the images of the gods all those years ago. What breaks you is what sits at your throne: the remaining villagers all curled together encased in a crystal prison. It was a skill you taught your strongest Vishaps just before your departure, never considering that they would need to use it you had no way of reversing its effects. You fall into a sob, pillars of crystals sprouting just where your tears meet the bloody ground. All hope is lost from you until you feel the looming presence of Rex Lapis.

At first, you're overjoyed.

He could somehow fix this. Given his ability to cleanse gods and shape islands with minimal effort, this could be done by the snap of a finger. You stand with some difficulty, the gems having crystalized at the bottom hem of your garments almost keeping you weighted to the floor as a warning. You pay no mind.

Then, all at once, you’re afraid.

When you reach him, smiling and happy for once to be in his presence, the weight around you feels heavy. The glare of Rex Lapis is stone cold, gold irises like slits of the dragon you witnessed decapitate so many of your old friends. The general Alatus to his left stands armed and ready, and to his right Cloud Retainer - one normally so proud and boastful, hangs her head low behind the god before her. 

“You left.” His voice is calm, a stark contrast to the way he is looking at you. Glaring at you like the enemy. “Well yes.” You begin, a stutter to your voice, “the war has long since reached its close…and with n-no more danger I thought it would be alright to-”

“Danger is always upon us. You went against our agreement.” There's a bass in his voice that rocks a tremor through your body as well as the cave you reside in, its strength leaves Alatus to stumble his footing and Cloud Retainer to dip her gaze that much lower. You, however press on, “I had no plans to be gone long a-and with no word from my home I feared the worst. So I had to-”

His hand envelops your throat in an instant. Rough, scaled fingers grip tightly around you and when you make an effort to speak he squeezes harder. “You had to remain within the harbor. We had an agreement. You swore an oath to me, an oath that was never to be broken.” Frantic fingers grip at his hand, you try to pry him off of you but your body feels like it's being pulled by an unknown force that leaves you weak and him unmoving. He watches you struggle, and somehow in those eyes you see him pleased with the way you whither in his grasp.

“Should I take care of them, Master?” General Alatus’ mask envelopes his face, karmic energy flowing from his body. You shutter as his blade is brought to your sides. Rex Lapis turns his head swiftly, the first he’s looked away from you since he’s got here, and glares harder. In seconds the general is brought to the floor in a shout of pain. In the position he kneels, Alatus clutches the floor in a grip so tight you’d think he was trying to push against the heavy pull of the world’s gravity. “You will hold your tongue until I see fit for your suggestions, General.”

Alatus nods as best he can, body struggling just as much as yours to try and fight against the power of the god of geo. The glow of his scales dims, and the yaksha begins to breathe as he stands on wobbly legs. It is then the archon drops you. You swallow oxygen in desperately and cough it back out heavily as you gaze up at the man before you. When he reaches for you again, you scurry away but not far enough. This time he grasps your arm dragging you away breathless and reaching for what’s left of your home.

He scoffs at your sorry state, “your offense to me isn’t great, but you still will be punished for your disobedience.” You’re helpless to it all, too weak to challenge one of the chosen seven of Celestia. He snaps his fingers and just like all those years ago he takes you from your home.

Back then it was for a cause, an unspoken oath you had no idea would chain you to a man you don’t believe in; but now it's as a prisoner, a powerless god who watches their domain crumble right before your eyes.

THE ELECTRO ARCHON Raiden Shogun | wc. 1.1k+

“Leave us.”

For a moment, you think she sounds disappointed. The guards release you from your binds and you're quick to snatch your wrists away to rub the tender skin. They give stiff bows and with stiff, sharp pointed turns make way for the doors of the Shogunate’s chambers. When they leave the room, Baal and the kitsune Saiguu emerge from the panels behind the back of the throne. Baal is as calm as ever; she sits eyes closed, knees folded below her and her wagasa twirling in her slender fingers as if pondering something. Saiguu seems more openly displeased; her tail rests rigid behind her when she sits beside her own Shogun, she looks concerned as she scans your body and you notice she has left her cigarette holder behind.

You are in real trouble now.

Beelzebul had descended her throne before the guards even walked through the door. She paces in between you and her sister, her strides come to match the tempo of the thunder that increases in volume over the heavy rain from the outside world. When a particularly loud clash resonates through the skies, Baal stops her twirling. “Ei, you’re beginning to cause a stir amongst the people.”

She stops her pacing and so too does the thunder if only for a little. Beelzebul looks you over and it seems that fans her flame even more when her eyes rack over your body. Her gaze doesn’t match that of Saiguu’s though. “You’re wounded.” She finally speaks, it's more at you than to you. The wound is nothing serious, a small scratch to the arm that has left your garments a little bloody but it's really nothing that won't heal by the morning. She moves quickly for bandages, trying and failing to distract herself from imploding, but when she gets close with the adhesive you dodge around her touch.

The first clash of lightning strikes the seas.

Beelzebul sighs and stands, you watch the bandage begin to buzz and spark in her grasp. “Bleed out for all I care.” In an instant, the cloth blows and dissolves in a small show of flames. You flinch.

“Ei-” Baal begins again, her hair glows at the tips and you know she is fighting to calm the storm of emotion that continues to rage outside.

“What did you hope to gain by seeing her again at such a time? We are in the middle of a war of gods and you see it fit to chase a traitor.” 

“Chiyo is no traitor!” You don’t mean to yell, but the way she spits the word ‘traitor’ has your blood boiling. Baal makes no effort to calm you down. “She had been trapped inside the belly of that beast for so long; months fighting her way from the inside out. That could turn anyone to madness…and when she finally emerges scared and confused you try to kill her.”

“She’s become crazed with madness. Something in that beast left with her and a blight like that can’t be cleansed. Saiguu knew the moment she saw her.” You break your gaze to look at the goddess.

Saiguu nods at you even without looking your way, “Not even a cleansing from the Sacred Sakura would have helped. Even being that close I could tell that blight ran deeper than her soul. I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head vigorously. There had to be something you could do, even if that meant caging her within the temple for an eternity anything would have been better than more death. “There was something we could have done. I know it. Rukkhadevata would know something; she knows everything. Let me go to Sumera and-”

A dry chuckle bursts from Beelzebul, “It seems you might have been tainted by whatever she had. If you think you are in the right to start making requests now I can assure you it won’t happen. Have you forgotten the current situation: we are at war, not just us but all the gods. You were only lucky enough to get to the forests before I had to save you from that beast.” The air around you feels static. The hairs on your body raise and the wound on your arm feels like it’s being pinched every so often. “Why are you so adamant on leaving my protection?”

“Protection?! Your protection! You keep me imprisoned. I cannot see anyone but who you allow me too. I am followed constantly and whenever I so much as breathe in the direction of the outside world I’m dragged away. You keep me here shielded like some precious doll while everyone else fights.” Baal’s gaze meets yours behind her sister almost there to push you on. “I am a soldier to this nation before anything else and would rather take my chance out there than to live knowing I sat sheltered and protected like a coward with you here.”

Ei’s stunned. A storm ripples through her gaze and for a second you think those purple hues of clouds show shines of rain. 

Instead lightning clashes before you.

The blunt end of her blade is brought to the heart of your chest in a flash. The feeling of its energy pulsing so close makes the tales of its power in battle sound underplaying, stray bolts of lightning bounce off it and reach in to rub under your clothed skin. You jolt. Saiguu makes an effort to stand but Makato raises her hand to halt her advance.

“If you wish to die so eagerly, I will strike you down here myself.”

It's clear she means it; having already slain and severely injured two of her closest friends there would be no hesitation if you had to be next. Makoto finally decides it's time to intervene, her fingers curl along her sister’s shoulder and although Ei doesn’t break away the energy pressing into your chest does decline in pressure if only for a second. “Pain doesn’t last an eternity.”

They don’t even look at each other when she speaks, she just holds her there. You think it has to be something only they could feel as twin gods and hope Makoto wins the internal battle. The sword dissolves in her grasp and you let go of the breath you had thought to be your last. “You're both hurting and you might fight it but it's for the same reason. Chiyo was dear to all of us, so were Sasayori and the others but we cannot let their deaths bring about our own. What would they have fought for? Have died for?” Ei brushes the hand from her shoulder and walks towards the balcony in long strides. 

Makoto does nothing to stop her, choosing it best to let her storm settle on its own then to try and guide its course. She does turn to you, pleading you to understand — her sister only cares for the best of you. You don’t respond, staying glued to the floor while your mind tries to catch up to your heart. Ei pushes into the storm outside that leaves the doors rattling and a chill to the room. Tearing your gaze from the ground you look to your god, she now stands on the ledge head turned up towards the heavy rainfall. She looks almost strangely content with the chaos outside, you could still make out the rotting corpse of the great serpent in the distance. There is a pain bubbling from your gut as your heart still hammers in your chest. Is this the weight you must bear under the care of a god?

THE DENDRO ARHCON Lesser Lord Kusanali | wc. 1.5k+

“Tell me: what do you think shapes a dream?”

You should have known something was wrong the moment Nahida had requested to see you personally. This wouldn’t be the first time one of the archons has requested something like this from you, however Nahida’s tone of voice somehow puts you on edge. The way it echoes in the hollow room she had led you in racks a chill down your spine.

“A dream is made solely by your emotions.” You recall this from your psychology class, the professor was so invested in the topic it was kinda hard to forget. “Whatever fuels that of your wishes, memories and abstract thoughts all tie into what can shape a dream when you fall asleep.” You’ve recited that line so many times before that final exam and still remember being so pissed it was never even mentioned within the test. “However, the worries that rest in the back of your mind might also shift the course of a dream as well.”

“Hmm. I had never thought of it that way.” Nahida curls her hand under her chin thinking, “would that be the same case for a nightmare?” 

“I would assume so…yes.” There is a piece you’re missing in the puzzle of questions. Her curiosity is hiding something else, something that you can’t picture right out but you do feel it with every passing second. “But why would someone try to sleep with negative emotions moving through their head?”

If it weren’t for the fact that you knew this is a virtual world you would have been fooled to see Nahida as the child that she is. Her small frame looks up at you expectantly; being the only person in her world to ever know more than that of her vast case of knowledge, she treats you much more like a new toy to play around with than as the high god everyone else believes you to be. 

That in and of itself is both a blessing and a curse.

“Sometimes it can’t be helped.” You try to not think about it but you tell yourself this everyday now. “It’s something we can’t fight…the negative emotions, they are always with us because we never know what the future will hold.” 

“It's all a random chance of time. One day, you could find yourself on the receiving end of a terrible storm, you could walk straight into dog poop with brand new shoes or you could even walk into a meeting with all your clothes inside out…One day you could lose a loved one, you could walk into a store and see your house in flames on the news, you could even-”

“Be trapped with no way home.” Your eyes widen. Nahida’s head is tilted ever so slightly, eyes squinted and you realize she is studying your reaction, “y-yeah you could.”

“Fascinating.”

You don’t even realize it but your voice waivers, “What is?”

Nahida looks away from you to her holo-screen behind her. With delicate fingers she swipes through files and documents you can’t catch sight of until her little fingers stop on one. You can make out the screen and it looks like a video. She taps it.

A screen materializes before you and the video plays. Image looks like the holding cells of the Knights of Favonius headquarters, but the person within the cell looks like no character you have seen in game at all. It isn’t like you remember every npc within this world, however, each character has similar features that make it obvious in telling who is who. Could this be a new character? There is no knowledge of them in recent patch notes.

Nahida’s voice startles you. 

“Oh…you must be curious? This is user 804897112. Although the name he chose at the start was Starlord, his real name is Chris.”

What?

“It took him four weeks before he slipped up. They hadn’t noticed him as the Creator of that server yet but when he went around sprouting drunk nonsense about the Archon War at Angel Share things took a turn.” You haven’t been watching the screen, too caught up on understanding what Nahida had just said but the scream catches you off guard.

That person. That real life person, Chris, is chained and on his knees before Jean, Rosaria, Kaeya, Diluc and Venti. Kaeya’s sword is jabbed into Chris’ shoulder, Rosaria looks to be trying to get him to cough up any information he knows but you can’t hear anything. Did Nahida only want you to hear that screams? There is a troubled look on Jean’s face like she’s reluctant to continue this, but Venti says something that rouses everyone in the room and pales Chris’ skin. He’s crying now, snotty and nasty as Diluc beelines to him with his heavy blade.

Diluc’s greatsword raises and you gasped in horror as its brought down on Chris’ head. Out of sheer fear you clutch your own neck. Blood seeps out in a sparkle of gold and they all stand as stunned as you, the poor boy’s head tumbling over in the pool of it blood. The video ends there.

It’s hard to breathe and you're given no time to recover yourself as another plays. “This is user 119876532, Diana. She asked questions about Scaramouche’s true origins to the Shogunate. Knowledge no one should possess and again before the establishment of her identity as Creator.” This one carries no build and is from a farther angle atop a tree, like from the perch in the eyes of a bird, but it's all so vividly clear. The girl is tied to her knees before the shogun, spilling out words too quickly for you read and understand. There is no need to though, Ei is as calm as ever. She listen to Diana’s rambling, and for a second you think she might believe whatever she’s saying. Five seconds later, you watch Diana die in the same flash of lightning as La Signora.

You can’t stand now, legs given out in the horror of it all. The videos continue like this until you can’t bear to look at the screen anymore.

User 908765342 crushed by meteorite hurled by Zhongli. User 743828950 — Sam, found dismembered by a pack of hilichurls. Robert gets mauled by a geovishap. Lee can’t take it anymore and…

“Why?” The tears fall from your eyes in heavy waves. “Why show me all this? Why tell me about all these people? I don’t-”

It all connects in seconds: they found out about you.

You move to stand hurriedly and make a beeline for the exit but your feet stay planted to the floor with the sight before you. The Doctor stands grinning from ear to ear. He clasps his hands together with a sigh of glee. “You ask why and it’s simple: you survived.”

He’s on you in an instant, tightly holding your wrists in his hands and preventing your escape no matter how hard you thrash. He breathes into your neck harshly and you sob. He whispers breathlessly into your ear how he has never been this fascinated, this drawn to a specimen before and promises to be gentle in your dissection. Nahida watches you with wide interested eyes as you struggle in hope of saving yourself. You cry out to them, to your guards, to Lumine or Dehya or Thoma. To anyone who would hear you even though no one can. But still…

You scream.

Cyno breaks down your door, his gaze looking over the room hastily to find the culprit to dare stir the peaceful slumber of the Creator.

It was a dream? It was a dream and yet your wrists burn, the images of all those people looked so real.

Was this a sign? Would that happen to you if any of them ever found out? Have they already started to suspect something? What if you don’t ever get out of here? What if-

“Your grace?” Cyno’s hand brings you back to reality, hard. His fingers feel almost frozen over against the skin of shoulder and you flinch away in such a haste it brings crease to his brows. You almost question why he runs so cold but with him looking at you with so much concern you don’t think it's him that is the problem. “Do I need to go get Tighnari? I will only be a couple hours but I could stop by our Archons domain just so-”

“No!” Your voice is filled with fright, but it’s obvious that the sheer volume of your scream is what stuns him the most. You can feel the sweat run down your temple and the pound of your heart so aggressively in your ears. It takes you far too long to compose yourself but you are grateful that Cyno listens and just stands by your side.

“There is no need for all of that. I’m just a little shaken.” He doesn’t seem to take your word for it but when you explain that it was only a dream and not some illness that caused this he is partially relieved. “The doctor won’t be needed for this and it isn’t like this is something of his expertise.” 

Cyno offers a quick nod before he settles in a chair at your desk. He shuffles closer to your bedside with a cross to his arms and a tense raise of his shoulders. You can’t blame him for staying alert; dreams are a new phenomenon within Sumeru and with the few months you have known him, you know Cyno doesn’t do well with handling business he cannot comprehend for himself.

It takes too long for you to finally get calm within the safety of your own bed, but it does help that Cyno — as loyal to you as he once was to the akademiya — stays by your side the whole night. 

It gets hard trying to keep your mind from blurring the line between your life outside and the one within this game. Watching Cyno sleep next to you, the steady rise and fall of his chest is far too detailed for your sensitive mind to keep considering these people aren’t real people. A Sumeru rose, a gift handed to you by a child of the city, loses a petal and you watch the leaf fall then blow in a spark of pixels. You’ve been here too long. 

You need to get out . . . and soon.

THE EVERLASTING GOD OF ARCANE WISDOM : Scaramouche | wc. 1.2k+

You should have known this could have been another one of the Doctor’s tricks.

You are privy to his experiments and know just about everything there is to know about his latest desires as a man of knowledge…but it seems you have gotten too relaxed within his presence to suspect that you were the next pawn to be sacrificed within this long orchestrated game.

Being left to go through with the final reports on the Balladeer’s status without his supervision should have been the first and only sign needed to show you something else was at play here. The Doctor was always to see everything himself, deeming everyone else — even you — inferior to his intellect and prone to time consuming slip ups. Why you would ever trust an order like this for its face value you will never know. But now you can tell it was a mistake.

The laboratory has been cleared on the orders of the Doctor, and yet you feel like you have been being watched ever since you have entered the building.

Since you entered Sumeru for the matter.

Pushing away the chills, you check the sixth harbinger’s vitals. Everything looks to be in order but that is to be as expected; the Doctor had said this could be close to being his greatest creation and that would obviously show in his work. You hum triumphantly and quickly move on to the next task. The body of the Prodigal is kept in a separate room, with how massive the final product came to be it was bound to happen. It is still mesmerizing to know how much raw power is stored within a gnosis on its own. Crazy how an item so small is able to create mass destruction in the world.

Everything seems in perfect shape when you finally reach the test sight. The distant hum of the overhanging lights do little to add any glory to the giant machine before you. Even without eyes its looming figure looks down upon you as if it can tell the significant power difference between you two. Dottore had told you it was nonsense; the Balladeer would be in a state of hypostasis until his body finally converges with the power of the electro gnosis. He couldn’t possibly be able to tell a slime from a hilichurl let alone know when anyone enters the room. 

You find it — much like everything else that comes with interacting with the Doctor —  demeaning. He undermines everyone and if it weren’t for his rank you'd have thought he was just too full of himself. His genius could be on a par with the dendro archon but that's something you’ll never admit even to the nicest of his segments. 

Data shows that Scaramouche is still stable. The gnosis too somehow remains with a constant flow of energy as it diverts power to the main systems. It still eludes you how someone like Scaramouche can handle power as strong as this for as long as he has. Though you do not know the criteria of the ranking amongst harbingers, his order in the hierarchy holds true.

So caught up in your own thoughts you hadn’t even noticed how close you had gotten to the body. If that presence was intimidating at a distance it pales in comparison to being up close. It towers above like the clock-house in Snezhnaya, arms and hands long and big enough to crush you whole. You shake your head from the thought. 

Your hand reaches to touch the machine. The metal is cold to the touch but there is a sensation of static that travels along your arm the longer you linger there. By the time you move your hand away ready to depart to report back to Dottore, a sudden shock sparks from your hand. You pull it back with a wince. This must be an unforeseen side effect to the gnosis. 

All at once your head throbs with white noise. It starts off faint but then rises to ring above all else. At first you believe it to be a faulty pipeline and look around for any signs of damage but yet again you see the perfectly unharmed lab. The sound is overwhelming and you can feel something pressing into the back of your mind. Memories not of your own flash before your eyes.

The sensations are too much to bear and you collapse when it's all too much at once. The moment you come too it feels different. The buzzing in your arm has spread throughout your body, and the noise that filled your mind is now gone, replaced by knowledge that leaves you weighted to the ground trying to understand it all.

The Balladeer…Scaramouche is…

“Was a puppet.” The voice is familiar and you cannot believe that its real. “A puppet that now wields a greater power than that of the god who chose to abandon him all those years ago.” He has ascended and so soon. Dottore’s notes were foolproof, everything down to the last decimal was precise so how could his hypothesis be false?

Scaramouche offers a snarl, and it's only now that you can register that he is inside your head with his reply, “because Dottore is a buffoon. He will always underestimate someone who he believes he could outsmart at any game, under any circumstance and do so without question. It’s that pride that will be his undoing in due time.” He walks around you, there are long pauses between every sentence and he speaks as if you will be overwhelmed by him just looking in your direction. You don’t know why you feel so grateful for it.

“Enough about him though.” He stops to kneel down to where you lay on the ground. His hand ever so delicately lifts your chin to meet his gaze and he gives you opportunity to look away. You don’t. “Let me see into you.”

Words filter through your head without him even needing to open his mouth. You’ve been connected to him by the soul, a pact between your compatible life force and his new godly abilities that were enforced the moment you touched him through the machine. You’ve been chosen as his first and whatever that entitles you don’t know but you do feel the tears roll down your eyes. Your mind cannot decipher if they are tears of joy or resentment of this new god.

Why are you calling him that?

Scaramouche wipes them away with a wicked smile. “No need for sorrow my chosen. For as your new god I will craft a world for you that leaves no room for those emotions to ever cross your features again. The Everlasting God of Arcane Wisdom will pave a way for your salvation and my glory to rise. So long as you put your faith in me and me alone.”

His hands fall from your face as he stands, but they still remain outstretched to you. The invitation hangs in the air and yet his smile never waivers like he knows what you will choose him over anything else. Like you will choose him over life itself. 

And for a moment you think you will.

a/n: this is very dark of me and really shouldn’t be my comeback post but rewatching nahida’s introduction really had me in the mood to bring our archons back into the light. also yes i am formally back to writing so do expect more posts soon to come.

p/s: furina version will be up as soon as i catch up enough with her character.

[pandesouth]

Why yes! Lesbians should feel comfortable accepting a former woman hating incel who watched porn so violent it could be classified as snuff into their dating pool. That was just their closeted self. And the only way to deal with being closeted is to sometimes fantasize about brutalizing and mutilating women. I personally cannot relate to that part as a lesbian b-but transbians, y’know, they just face so much oppression in this world and sometimes the cure to that might be loli hentai or saying slurs or posting rape and torture fantasies on Reddit. They’re just like us cis lesbians! Granted I never ejaculated on the stalls of a woman’s restroom or masturbated next to unsuspecting women for my trans fetish porn account or nailed a rat to a rape crisis center or murder a lesbian couple and their son or-

Either way, they’re lesbians just like you and me! They just discovered their lesbianism differently. We’re lesbians because we love women. They’re lesbians because they hated women and that helped them crack their egg and everything is good now. Ignore that rape threat in your DMs. That’s just transbian flirting..

[eddiediazismyhusband]

you know it really speaks volumes when you see people on here who are afraid to post opinions/theories about a certain ship bc they don’t want an influx of hate and vitriol in their inbox from people who up intil a couple months ago were super on board with that ship themselves

like there is so much hate and violent behavior coming from some of these people and it’s concerning how we can’t enjoy characters/a ship that have been developed over six years just because they think their plot device character is the most important thing to to the show and that he plays this integral role despite having less than 30 minutes of screentime, and not having appeared in almost 6 years (his first appearances where he was only important as sn antagonistic plot device for two poc)

every fandom has drama, and there is no such thing as a perfect fan… we are all human beings, we all have flaws

but the fact that the fandom is being policed so hard by these people to the point where cast and crew are being harassed over this random character, screeners are being sent death threats for talking about what was literally shown the show, queer people are being called slurs and/or having their queerness invalidated for having valid qualms with the way this storyline has been handled

this is worrying behavior and it’s not acceptable from anyone regardless of who they ship/don’t ship…. and the fact of the matter is most of this behavior is stemming from that half of the fandom

i personally as a queer person don’t wanna see a relationship on tv in which a long-term main character is throws together with a poorly written character who has zero chemistry with him, as well as treating him with disdain and disrespect at every turn. that’s not the representation i want to see on my screen. i don’t want a queer character who has had no signs of change from when he was making casual racist and misogynistic comments in the workplace; whose only “growth” are two throwaway lines that don’t even acknowledge his involvement and complacency in the bigotry. i don’t want s character whose blatant racism is blamed on the fact that he was closeted. to me that is not good representation- that’s weaponizing queerness to say that it’s okay for queer people to be problematic because they’re queer which is NOT true at all…

your queerness does not erase your bad behavior

your queerness is not a get out of jail free card

and seeing it portrayed as such in a huge network tv show while simultaneously dragging queer women of color through the depth of despair, and completely destroying the development of another heavily queer-coded poc character by having his son taken away in one if the most egregiously poorly written and out of character plotlines of the series is such a massive disservice to queer fans- whether they accept to see it or not- bc when this is how we are portrayed in media, this is how people begin to view us

and especially in the US, this is not something i want to see going into the 2024 election when queer rights are actually being threatened by one side while the other is actively supporting genocide

[jojikawa]

could i possibly get a chamber nsfw one-shot or headcanons w/ a sub reader who enjoys spanking and bondage?

You sure can!

CHAMBER X FEM!READER

tw// NSFW, Fem-bodied reader, BDSM (bondage and spanking), creampie

“Hold still, mon amour.”

The voice of your French lover was deep. His breath was hot and it caressed your ear delightfully as he tightened his belt around your wrists.

You were currently bent over Vincent’s lap. Your eyes were covered and one of his hands secured your bonds. The other gingerly inspects your backside. He was slow and confident in his actions. His favorite thing was to rub you through your panties. This time you were currently already dripping wet. You shuddered and squirmed at his touch, unable to keep still against his cold fingers.

“I want you to…to spank me.” You muttered, fidgeting just a little more before he ceased your movements with a slap. It echoed throughout the room alongside a poorly stifled moan. “Look at your cheeks. They’re turning so red when I’ve barely touched you.”

You only whimper in response. You didn’t want to seem so needy but your body had betrayed you. You were completely exposed.

Lewd slaps filled the quiet room. He had removed his gloves and began to spank you, just as you asked. You jumped and yelped at the contact, turning him on so much. He loved to watch you struggle against your restraints.

Vincent would grab a good amount of your cheeks with every slap. He would spread them so that he could get a look at your pretty asshole. A large, heavy blush would cover his face at the thought of finally fucking it. You felt him getting more and more hard under you, making you anxious for when he would finally be done.

You were becoming a mess under him when your cheeks had become red from repeated spanking. You nearly stained his pants with how wet you were.

Vincent lifted you and put you onto the bed. “I think I like you better like this.” He wrapped his arms around your lower waist and propped you up by your ass so that it was in the air. You felt his exposed cock press up against your ass. He put it between your cheeks and thrusts without penetrating you. He did this until you felt precum leaking all over your ass.

His presence behind you caused you to blush. You felt so dirty from being used by the French man like this.

“Are you ready for me, mon amore?” Vincent rubbed the tip between the folds of your pussy. “Mhm!” You whimpered out. He grabbed your bound wrists and pulled you to him. “I want to hear you say it. Use that beautiful voice of yours.” He cooed into your ear. “Tell me you want me.”

“…I…I want you, Vincent.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want t-to feel you deep inside of me.”

Vincent hummed at your slutty speech. “Gentille fille.”

And without another word, he pushed inside of you, filling your tight hole with his evergrowing dick. Your lewd cries filled his ears. “Naughty girl.” Vincent slammed into you, fucking you so good that you squirmed at the pleasure. He loved seeing your movements limited by the bondage. He could really see why you enjoyed the idea of it. He never would have thought that such a shy girl would be into something so arousing!

“You know I’m the only person who can fuck you like this, right?”

“Yes, Vincent!”

“Vincent? Only when you make me cum is when you can call me what you want.”

“I’m s-sorry, S-Sir!” You slurred, trying to keep yourself from making a mess all over his bed as he pushed into you violently. His tip did more than kiss your womb. It bruised you with the rate he was going.

You had already felt yourself approaching your climax. You tried to hold it in for the sake of pleasing Vincent but he was just pounding you so well. His cock filled your count perfectly. Before you could even notify him, you had begun squirting all over his dick.

“Sir, I-“ You moaned uncontrollably but Vincent’s pace didn’t let up. Your walls contracting on his cock didn’t allow him to slow down. He came inside of you, his strong arms keeping you in place as he bred you nicely.

It took everything out of him to finally pull out. When he did, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of power. He completely cream-pied you. At the sight, he spread your cheeks to get a better look. It dripped out slowly and the only thing he could think was that he owned you.

“Oh my, Cherie, it seems as though we are meant for each other.”

[athetos]

I don’t really know what to say anymore. There’s an active genocide happening right now and everybody with the power to stop it is ignoring it. They’re airing what are essentially fucking snuff films on Israeli tv. The media treats this like it’s “complicated” when it has never been complicated, it’s genocide, nothing could ever justify it, nothing ever will. It makes me sick that all I can do is protest and donate money and SIM cards and boycott, but it still hasn’t stopped. Everyone is fucking complicit. It’s sickening and I hate feeling powerless, everyone I know feels powerless, I’m hoping and fighting and I refuse to treat Palestine in the past tense because I do believe Palestine will be free but why does it have to take this long? Why isn’t anyone DOING anything?

I can’t go a single day without learning of what vile transphobic shit is happening here in my home. On virtually every website I use. Hate crimes in my own area. I am a mail clerk and today we received a request for donations from a charity run by a terf to keep trans women out of sports with grossly violent language. I ripped it up and threw it out even though I’d get in trouble over it, even though I knew my company wouldn’t donate anyway. This morning I learned about a non-binary teen who was beaten to death by 3 girls in a school bathroom. The teacher who found them and sent the girls away didn’t take them to the nurse or call an ambulance or do anything. Trying so hard to keep it together and not break down at work. It’s heartbreaking. I feel so powerless. There’s so much suffering, so many innocent people dying every day, just for existing.

I’m so lucky that I live in a city where I’m (relatively) safe. I may get called slurs on my commute, or misgendered regularly, but I don’t feel like my life could be stolen from me. Most people don’t have that luxury. Palestinians don’t have that luxury, many of my trans siblings don’t have that luxury. I want to use my privileges to DO something! I only have so much money. I only have my own voice, even if I scream until my throat is raw and bloody.

I don’t really know what else to say. Keep fighting, keep hoping. Fuck, man. I won’t let this make me a defeatist, I will never give up. As long as at least a single person on this planet is suffering, I will always keep fighting for them. It’s just sickening. Is there no compassion or empathy left in others? I am a well that will never be tapped dry. Keep fucking going, that’s all we can do. Free Palestine, protect trans kids, Black Lives Matter, we are all in solidarity forever.

[balkanradfem]

If you’re a woman, and you find yourself assuming, planning, or putting effort into something with certain expectations, and then when you get to the point where your expectations should be fulfilled, suddenly you realize none of it is how you imagined, and you start feeling small, foolish, over-optimistic, presumptive, stupid or embarrassed, I want you to know that there’s a huge chance that it’s not your fault, and the situation was, in fact, orchestrated this way.

M*n will orchestrate situations where they give women certain assumptions and expectations, then turn the situation nowhere in that direction. They do it so they would get exactly what they want out of the situation, while giving away nothing but false hope, false expectations, and encouraging false assumptions. You did not have a false assumption because there’s something wrong with you! You were not stupid or over-indulged! It’s been set up for you to feel exactly that way, otherwise you would never indulge, you’d never put effort, hope, energy, expectations or positive assumptions there.

Not only m*n orchestrate simple situations like this (like putting women on the spot where they’re expected to deliver subservience, obedience, forgiveness, their time and company, physical intimacy), but they orchestrate entire institutions and way of life this way. They develop marketing schemes out of that manipulation. They start and keep up relationships by keeping women’s assumptions always positive. They even go as far as to criticize, slander and demonize women whose expectations are anything but the most positive, optimistic and humanizing for them.

Women are supposed to assume every guy is the nice guy, even when walking into the hands of a rapist or a predator. Women are supposed to believe marriage with m*n is a place where they’ll be loved and taken care of, even when there’s a way higher chance of ending up in domestic servitude, or worse, domestic violence and life danger. We’re set up to find ourselves in situations where we either deliver whatever is expected of us, or we’re considered selfish, cruel, evil, leading someone on, and ‘making all other women look bad’. It’s not fair! It’s not fair to keep managing our expectations to remain optimistic, while already planning what to extract from us, all the while holding the card of calling us a slur or becoming violent the second we break the illusion.

When you’re safe to, you should get to call it out. It’s okay to say: “This is not what I was led to believe. This is not why I did all of those things. This is not what you’ve been saying to me all this time. This is not what I was told to expect. This is not what I agreed upon. This is not the expectation you’ve given me and you know it. This is not what I said yes to. You should have told me the truth earlier. You shouldn’t have led me on to believe this is what was about to happen. You shouldn’t have assumed I would keep being polite while you lie to me about what we’re doing here. I’m not partaking in this. You’ve wasted my time.”

If you do this, instead of assuming you’re just silly or naive, in most scenarios you will be completely correct. It’s not naive, foolish, or presumptive to have optimistic expectations, or to believe that people are telling you the truth, that you’re not being led on every time someone gives you positive expectations out of them. But people who would exploit that in you? They deserve to lose everything they hoped to gain by taking advantage of you.

[guttedwhxre]

If it isn't to much trouble could I get a part 2 to this

https://at.tumblr.com/guttedwhxre/how-theyd-get-rid-of-you-multiple-slashers/fxizdaigb1rq

Where they regret it?

hmmm, you might not like my answer anon! for context, this is part two of these headcanons! enjoy <3

tw: cheating, violence

ARE THEY SORRY? - jennifer check, michael a. myers, billy loomis and stu macher, jesse cromeans

JENNIFER may come back…eventually. if she can prove to herself that she won’t accidentally harm you in some way, she’ll work up the courage to confront you again - not once apologizing, instead poutily demanding you let her back in. 

if you say YES, she’ll be elated, quickly resuming your relationship as if nothing happened. late one night, when she thinks you’re asleep she’d apologize. don’t say anything, just let her have her moment. 

if you say NO, thankfully she wouldn’t get violent. jennifer would stiffen up and grow cold, just like before as she whisked away from you - and you’d never hear from her again.

if you tell her YOU NEED TIME, she’d acquiesce - BUT she’ll never leave you alone. essentially you’d gain a pseudo-stalker, she’s everywhere you are and somehow is always finding a way into your house - making conversation and prodding/teasing at you like before. whether or not you tolerate this is up to you, but trust me, without an answer she’d be hard to get rid of. 

MICHAEL wouldn’t feel sorry. plain and simple anon, i’m sorry to break it to you. it would take A LOT to get michael to a breaking point, as he has learned to be a very patient man, and believe it or not he often managed to dole out a little bit more just for you. whether you’re alive or not matters little to him now, just stay out of his way. should you ever run into him, pretend like you didn’t see him, and he’ll do you just the same. 

BILLY AND STU could feel regret. possibly. it’s not entirely in their nature but once they see the streets ain’t shit and you were the only one that would ever truly be there for the both of them, they might come groveling back - now that’s if they cheat on you! if they feel as if you’ve broken their trust, safe to say they’re never coming back - and if they do, it’s not for a fun little reunion. so, the only reason they’d come back is if they cheated - they’d show up in your bedroom late one night, stu coming in through your door and billy your window. they’d lay by you however long it took for you to awaken, breathing heavily and giggling as they keep making eye contact with each other. you’ll wake up to the unpleasant surprise of their gazes raking over your face, as they then proceed to ask, no, insist that you take them back. 

if you say YES, stu will smile with glee, pumping his fist in the air as billy’s hand slowly begins to slide down your thigh, stu’s hand finding purchase at your hips to squeeze shortly after. que a night of some of the roughest sex of your life, only to find the bed devoid of two men in the morning. there’s a 50/50 chance of you still finding the duo in your house at all - if you do, well, lucky you - if not, i mean, this wasn’t the best judgment call was it? 

if you say NO then stu quickly frowns, billy scowling at you as he scoffs and sits up. que the sludge of the most demeaning things the brunet can think of spilling out of his mouth, poking at your insecurities and raging about how much of an ungrateful slut/f-slur/piece of shit you are. stu will giggle not-so-silently in the background, the weight of the men lifting from the bed as they leave. from there on out, your life is a living hell for as long as it takes them to get bored - slashed tires, dead animals in your house, if you have anything compromising or personal stored on any of your computers that is sent to your place of work, parents, etc. just don’t react. they’re essentially trying to make you a prisoner in your own life, so do your best to take it all in stride - or get far away for a long, long time. these two are not for the weak. 

if you say that YOU NEED MORE TIME, they are not understanding and demand an answer right away - don’t think they won’t stoop so low as to put a knife to your throat, or verbally threaten to kill you. answers under duress are still answers, after all.

JESSE, like michael, probably wouldn’t regret it at all either. unlike the shape, he’d think about the ‘what-ifs’ and what life would be like if you were still alive, but none of it is out of regret. more like a wistful sense of pity he has for you being such an idiot. he was sure to make you suffer before you died. occasionally, he’ll put on the tape he took of your brutal death - just to reminisce. 

xoxo, babe 💋

[mogai-sunflowers]

I’ve been bullied my whole life but none of my bullies ever compared to the exclusionists I’ve dealt with. it’s just so fucking ridiculous that I come here for a safe community and all I get is people saying I’m a predator for EXISTING. this happens to every queer who doesn’t fit the little narrative that corporations sell. I’m not welcome if I’m too visibly autistic because what if that means that I prove that the homophobes are right about us all being a disorder? I can’t be a trans guy AND a bi femme because what if I’m the reason other trans men get feminized? My Black friend can’t be as loud and proud as he wants, because what if he’s just a little *too* loud for the cops that line the streets at Pride? We can’t be QUEER, I can just be gay.

my good friend doesn’t go to pride because he doesn’t feel safe there as a Black person, especially Prides with heavy policing with whom the organizers of Pride actually ALLY. Another good friend can’t go because they get too many dirty looks for their wheelchair. I’ve been called the r slur by more queer people than even by my parents, but hey, they’re queer too, right? So I’ve just got to let it slide, or I risk making someone else uncomfortable, right? But what about me? What if I and so many others are ALREADY FUCKING UNCOMFORTABLE? What about our comfort? Or are you just so desperate for acceptance that you shit on the people who would actually give you that acceptance?

exclusionism is not a trend of just the Internet age. This respectability politics didn’t start with online fights, it started with the violent exclusion of queer poc and trans people from mainstream gay organizations in America. Then it was bi people, then aspec people, now it’s neopronouns and xenogenders and bi lesbians. I am NOT comparing being against bi lesbians to racism and transphobia, but I am saying that it’s absolutely ridiculous to ignore how this trend of exclusionism began. To ignore the past is to endanger the future.

Pride has never TRULY been a safe space for everyone, and until it is, we’re LOSING!!!!!! I believe in queer solidarity but I don’t believe in using the term solidarity to silence any complaint that a more marginalized queer person has. Queer solidarity is for when you actually put your money where your mouth is and show up for other queers. It’s not demanding justice only when it’s convenient for you.

cops don’t belong at pride, but disabled people, people of color, people of all religions, people of all backgrounds DO.

[jewishbarbies]

If "antizionism isn't antisemitism" then antizionists should be hyper vigilant about not sounding like nazis. They should be very firmly against Jew hate, against the deaths/rapes/desired violent mass displacement of half the world's population of Jews. They shouldn't be saying "death to Israel"- again HALF the world's Jews live there, if you're saying that you don't want good things happening to millions of them. Antizionists shouldn't be mocking Jewish pain and mocking Jewish rape victims. They should be taking any antisemitism in their movement VERY seriously and beating it down. They should be checking their fucking biases, and making sure they aren't spreading conspiracy theories and blood libel.

Antizionists have done the exact opposite to all of this. They are some of the most gleefully hateful and genocidal people on this platform. So until they make a monumental effort to correct their bullshit I will always consider them to be neo nazis. Period. And its become extremely obvious they won't ever bother to fix their movement

they’ve given themselves permission to call anyone a nazi and make anything the “new holocaust”, and they allow themselves to do and say anything to people they don’t like. it’s body positivity until someone annoying is plus size, balding, or has acne. it’s “we’re all going through hard times” when talking about themselves, but when someone else lives with their parents/family they’re losers and deadbeats. it’s anti racism and blm until a poc disagrees with them and then it’s okay to use slurs against them. they’re feminists until a woman doesn’t want to embody toxic masculinity to be considered strong. don’t get me started on the lgbt+ community and how leftists are never satisfied with the way other people identify or understand their own sexuality/gender. these contradictions and hypocrisies have been happening on a large scale for many years now, and it’s all culminated in what we’re seeing now. justifying murder, rape, and torture based on race, religion, ethnicity, and where you were born. antizionism is just the fancy new(ish) label everyone is using to make themselves feel better about it.