guess who's back

Rowan, 27, they/he

[queer-quill]

this is a pinned post for me to throw random tags on when I want to search for something on my blog. because they broke the search feature. and I cannot type in tags i know ive used and have spelled correctly. but if i click on them from a post they'll show up.

edit 3/17/26, :D

[funkyness]

at least can all we agree that the original gay flag with the magic and sex colours is BEAUTIFUL and it should make a comeback

[funkyness]

what’s more iconic than this

[azeroundivided]

What about the final version of the flag by the original creator?

Gilbert Baker added a 9th stripe shortly before his death, with the new stripe representing diversity. He added this stripe in reaction to the 2016 US election. It’s unfortunately not as well known as the 8 and 6 striped versions.

Here’s an image of him sewing together the 9 striped rainbow flag.

[laurasinele]

Happy pride month everyone

[shamebats]

I think it's linguistically very interesting that Americans have come up with phrases like "I don't believe in [X thing or concept that very much exists]" and "[something/someone] makes me uncomfortable", the former betrays a very belief-centered mindset where material reality doesn't matter (the sentence "I don't believe in vaccines" should not make sense, it's like saying you don't believe in lamps, but what it really means is that they personally don't like/agree with it) and the latter phrase for example can't even be translated properly into my native language afaik. In Slovene you can say that you are uncomfortable, but you can't just fully make it about someone/something else. You can feel uncomfortable, a conversation can be uncomfortable (adjective), but your feeling of discomfort is yours, nobody is making you feel that way.

Which might not sound like a big deal but there's a huge difference between admitting that you're uncomfortable in the presence of large dogs VS saying that large dogs actively make you uncomfortable. Like they're not doing anything, the large dogs are just there, you're the one who's feeling uncomfortable, it's an emotion you are feeling.

Another American phrase I have a issue with is "I feel like" when you're expressing an opinion. Why are you saying "feel" when "think" is right there? If I had to guess, I'd say that you don't want to take full ownership of what you're saying. Thoughts and opinions are seen as more open to criticism than feelings.

I think it's all pretty telling. Also, the worst part is that it's spreading to other languages too. We have to actively resist the influence of the American mindset.

[danepopfrippery]

Feel vs think was something foisted on femme appearing people because women ‘thinking’ intimidated men. You know those silly little girls gotta feel not think!

The I don’t believe in xyz always confused the hell out of me. Relatives would say it like re abortion and I’d say that’s idiotic abortion exists regardless of if you like it or would use it or not. Most of them finally stopped saying it but it’s way too common in the us (particularly stupider, more religious areas).

This makes me uncomfortable is an extension of all 3 really. Notice it’s about tempering the situation to a socially acceptable way of disagreement? A man saying women with mini skirts on makes him feel uncomfortable means the blame is on the woman or show (as you pointed out) vs admitting he’s a creep.

Women using it started with the ‘talking about abortion makes me uncomfortable’ (thus it’s not your fault for buying the line, your just repeating it) to becoming more like feel vs think where it’s more weaponized so you don’t seem aggressive

(Like srsly I’ve only heard men use it in the first manner and women use it more in the large dogs make me uncomfortable way).

Or in short: it goes back to our puritanical bullshit. Idk if it’s corrupted the other big English speaking countries but I’d doubt it’s as pervasive

[elbiotipo]

More than "here in the Southern Hemisphere we have inverted seasons :)" thing, which is TECHNICALLY true, I would go a step further and encourage to think about that "much of the world does not exactly has a spring-summer-fall-winter season sequence as they show in cartoons"

[paperdragonsong]

I will scream about this to anyone who listens forever. AUSTRALIA DOES NOT HAVE "ENGLISH SEASONS BUT BACKWARDS" and the insistence that it does creates a massive layer of alienation from the natural world.

I never really realised how much difference it makes until I went to England and realised that here the change of seasons is an obvious, visible, physical change in the world. Like, everything REALLY IS orange and foggy in autumn! In spring there are flowers EVERYWHERE, so much more than any other season, and the trees really do have all blossom and no leaves. Even if it doesn't snow, in winter there's frost all the time and the trees are bare and the sky is visibly greyer all the time. You don't need to be told "this date is the first day of spring", you can SEE IT (although this is getting way messier and less precise due to climate change).

By contrast, most places in Australia the seasons we're taught feel like arbitrary categories - and is it any surprise considering they're colonial constructs? Orange-leaved autumn and blossom-covered spring is a cartoon stereotype with no relevance on a continent where ALL NATIVE TREES ARE EVERGREEN!! Snowy winters are a joke in the desert, and even sunny summers don't ring particularly true considering that much of the country is in the tropics, where summer means monsoons - not that I've ever seen the concept that WE HAVE A MONSOON SEASON taught at an Australian school.

Most Indigenous nations around Australia had six or more seasons, revolving around wet and dry times as much as hot and cold, and marked by the appearances of certain native animals and flowers. Schools need to start teaching the real seasons, and explaining that climate cycles are too complex to generalise globally, or else we will keep raising generations who view the natural world as hostile and unpredictable and climate predictions as generally irrelevent and frequently wrong - and I'm sure I don't need to spell out why that's a problem in the era of climate crisis.

[tiredtransgal]

i want to add that 40% of the world's population lives in the tropics, and the 4 season model just doesn't make much sense for a lot of places in there. usually it's just the wet season/monsoon season and the dry season. it's often hot year round.

the 4 season model as you and i know it is a european invention, though 4 season models aren't unique to europe! most notably china has the same type of season subdivision.

in general the way humans define seasons is largely subjective and varies across cultures. the one you were taught is not at all universal!

[nullpointr]

this pride month remember to love and appreciate aromanticism, aromantic people, aromantic love, aromantic relationships. this pride month get more aromantic

[aholefilledwithtwigs]

I have never read or watched Death Note and i know the whole ‘book that kills people’ premise but from all the shit i see on here it seems to be two teenaged boys acting out this scene over and over

[deepinourengines]

mutual just posted "ok i'm normal now". objective: survive their reverse-chronological dashboard breakdown (wave 1 of 30)

[ravioliet]

"why can't they just be friends?" not in the homophobic sense, but in the "in your need to center romance in everything you are missing the whole point of the media in question" sense

[mfstarboi]

actually my kinks boil down to “i want someone to desire me so strongly and urgently that they just can’t control themself around me”

[roadside--picnic]

[joehills]

Remember when I didn’t try to sell you NFTs and then you didn’t have to be mad at me about it later?

Good news, I’m doing that again... but with newer technology this time!

[wizardarchetypes]

When I went to my first bdsm & kink safety introductory course I remember the instructor said something like, "in our society if you want to learn how to safely exercise, you can go to a gym with a personal trainer. if you want to learn how to swim, you can go to a pool with a lifeguard. if you want to learn to sky dive or rock climb or scuba dive or any other high-risk activity that pushes your body to its limits, there are courses for that and you don't have to hide.

but if you want to learn about sex, explore your boundaries, and learn the limits of your body in a sexual context, where can you go to do that? who can you trust to guide you without fear of being exploited? and if you're lucky enough to find space and guidance, why are you still supposed to feel ashamed?"

it's stuck with me for a long time.

[wizardarchetypes]

i think it's especially a shame to act like hypersexuality is the antithesis of healing because it does shut people out of experiences that might help them. our society frames sexual violence as something perpetrated by strangers in the night and something we heal from in solitude—often assisted by a sole, tender sexual & romantic partner.

whereas i was raped by someone i considered a good friend. it wasn't until i got involved in my local kink scene—where i was empowered to discuss my boundaries and move strictly at my own pace—that i finally felt secure enough to explore physical intimacy again.

it actually makes perfect sense why a rape survivor would find safety in a sexual setting where active communication is not only encouraged—but often required—and where people speak openly about their sexual experiences, introduce partners to each other, and even supervise sexual interactions between partners, thereby creating safety in community.

but you can imagine how people respond to a rape survivor saying they healed from their trauma at public sex parties.

[t4th0rnyp0sting]

I wanna go to bed cuddling a cutie and wake up with their cock teasing and slipping into my boycunt

[ho3hologram]

Waking up to you eating my pussy only to realize you tied me down and wont stop no matter what I do

[liarsblade]

Possessiveness is awesome.specifically if the possessive person is kind of embarrassed and ashamed and turning inwards about it

[liarsblade]

Alpha boyfriend beats the shit out of some guy for touching his discord kitten or whatever <- unfathomably unsexy

Repressed freak has private breakdown about other people being affectionate with their favorite person on earth and has a guilt spiral about it afterwards <- awesome and sexy. To Me.

[liarsblade]

Repressed freak does all of that and then is forced for some reason to say, out loud, with their words that yeah basically I feel like you're Mine and it's very upsetting to me when other people touch you or make you smile or laugh sorry I try not to feel that way I know it's wrong of me sorry sorry sorry <- REALLY AWESOME AND SEXY. TO ME.

[writing-prompt-s]

In a last ditch attempt to save your people, you offer your life to an ancient god of war and blood. Unfortunately, your translation of the ancient text was a bit off. You're married now.

[fledgedragonfox]

Chaos et Affectio

Monster x human, Monster x vampire

Writing Masterpost

In a last ditch attempt to save your people, you offer your life to an ancient god of war and blood. Unfortunately, your translation of the ancient text was a bit off. You're married now.

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The prince stood at the center of the crumbling temple, hidden deep below the city. He’d ordered his guards to stay outside the entrance. He was not to be bothered in his final moments. His Father had been weak and selfish, and his Mother had died when he was young. When the King had revealed that he would rather his people perish in blood, fire, and starvation than risk his own life, Prince Neer had incited a coup. It would not last long, for the demands were very clear. 

The one who wears the crown must offer their life.

Once their hands are given, the people shall flourish.

For generations his people had suffered from the aftermath of countless wars, plagues, and famines. All suffered at the wrath of his idiotic father. When the prophet scroll was found and translated, finally there was hope. But his father refused to die in order for his people to live. At least, on his own terms. Neer had no love lost on the petulant man that had impregnated his mother. But he had immense love for his people, and would do nearly anything to see them safe. 

He had everything planned out for what would come after. He would die to save his people, and his most trusted friends and advisors would find to raise up as the next king. Until that new heir came of age, his allies would act as a governing council. The pact they would form here would ensure that his people would survive. He also made his friends, knights, allies, and advisors alike that they would not alienate the next ruler, but involve him. Teach him through experience. They swore to a blood oath, the greatest oath any in the kingdom of Vathrah could make. 

With the future of his land and people decided, Neer prepared himself. He kneeled by the summoning circle, a great black thone with ancient runes carved into it in ages long past, as the crimson ones began their chant. They were the god of blood's most loyal followers. Blessed by his ichor, they had lived for centuries on the blood of their parish. Neer shivered in barely concealed revulsion as each one drew an obsidian blade across their palms. Forty-two pale taloned hands dripped blood that was far too red to be human into the receiving bowls circling the sigil.  As the bowls filled with ichor so red it could have been mistaken for paint, they began to chant as one. Droning out words that barely registered as real to the prince. 

“Valadix Impal’vanir, Valadix Impal’vanir, Valadix Impal’vanir, Valadix Impal’vanir…” On and on they droned in an eerie whisper. Despite each speaking softly, their voices joined together to fill the chamber with their unsettling echos. Neer jumped in fright as one of the bowls close to him ignited in a crimson blaze. One by one each of the bowls ignited. As they did, the flames spread to the carved divots that made up the circle. Shadows black as pitch began to swirl with strands of light red as blood in the center of the large circle. 

As the wind began to whip around the room, the devouts never once increased their volume. Their quiet chanting continued to drone on. The dark and light split as a shape began to emerge. Long arms tipped with wicked talons reached out from the dark maw within. Dripping with dark ichor. The claws sliced through the stone dais as smoothly as a knife through butter. Four gargantuan wings erupted from the storm, splattering dark liquid across the walls. Large, fur covered legs bursting with muscle found purchase on the ground. Dark red mist coalesced into robes of crimson that floated in an unseen current. Capes and glittering jeweled chains decorated in rubies and garnets wrapped themselves around the shoulders, arms, and thick furry neck of the creature. 

Then, the body fully emerged from the darkness. Every inch muscle and power. Dark fur with vibrant red patterns covered its body. Robes and gems adorned him, concealing just enough to be at least somewhat modest. It was as his head appeared that Neers mouth went dry. Large, satellite ears swiveled at attention, the blood diamonds hanging from them clinking musically. His face was like a bat’s. Covered in fur with a mouthful of dangerous fangs. A golden piecing in his nose attached to one of the bobbles on his left ear by a delicate chain of some unknown red metal.  His eyes glow a deep crimson, and they did not leave Neer. 

“Art thou the one?” He spoke in an ancient, rumbling voice. Though his mouth did not move, his voice boomed around the chamber. Neer could not speak, his voice stolen from him. Before him was the great Crimson Lord. Lord of blood and arbiter of war. Creator of the crimson race and the only one who could save his people. “Wilt thou honor the word of thy forbears?” The creature asked. Neer swallowed his fear as best he could and bowed his head to observe the cracked and ruined floor. He himself was dressed in robes similar to those worn by the servants of the god around him, though his were pure white and accented with gold. A beautiful garment to die in, he thought. 

“Yes, Crimson Lord.” Prince Neer said, voice shaking in terror. “My father is dead, he did not care for my people’s plight.” Neer said, as he did, the archherald approached from behind, placing a coldiron crown upon his hooded brow. “I wear the crown.” He said as the archherald backed away. The deity observed him keenly, his glowing eyes boring into Neer’s soul. As if the creature could peer straight through him, which it probably could. For all Neer knew, the Lord of Blood could see his soul laid bare as the flames between them. 

With shaking hands, Neer unlatched the ornamental box before him, revealing an ornate dagger. The pommel was crusted with fire opal, and the blade forged from the finest obsidian. A rumbling chuckle reverberated through the room. Neer was surprised enough by the noise that his head snapped up to stare at the monster who made it. The lord of the hunts’ shoulders trembled slightly as he laughed. 

“Of course, thou desire us to commence.  Hence be it, allow us begin.” The Crimson one rumbled. A large, almost feral, grin splitting his animalistic face. A clawed hand reached into the endless expanse of robes and produced a goblet of gold. The outside was decorated with blood diamonds and red silk was wrapped round the stem. The creature carefully placed the goblet in front of the prince. It was the size of a small punch bowl to prince Neer, though it was no kore than a wine glass in the hands of the Crimson one. 

“Ere the largess  are exchanged, thou might not but posset.  E'en only a mouthful shall serve our intent.” The creature said. Though Neer could not quite understand everything the god said, he understood what it wanted him to do. He looked down into the goblet, finding a deep dark liquid within. It was warm enough to steam and smelled strongly of spices and a strange exotic scent that he could not place. Neer struggled to lift the mass of gold and drink. He was surprised when the Crimson One reached out to help him. Gently lifting the goblet just enough for the prince to gulp down a mouthful of the mysterious brew. 

The taste was divine. It was savory, sweet, and reminded him of every mulled wine and cider he’d ever sampled. It warmed him from the inside out, and nearly burned in its intensity. His eyes closed in an unexpected bliss as he continued to drink. As he drank, the Crimson Lord began to speak in a language Neer did not recognize. 

“Ya gn'th'bthnk l' ymg', ya gn'bthnknyth l' ymg'.  Iiahe ya gn'th'bthnk flows ph'nglui ymg', ymg' mgah'ehye become mine.  Iiahe ymg' ahthrodog ahorr'eog, mgah'ehye ya become ymg'.” He spoke, and as he did Prince Neer’s lungs began to burn and his heart began to pound. His eyes snapped open to see the Crimson One gazing down at him. Neer watched as his hands which had been gripping onto the monster’s hands wrapped around the goblet, paled. His blunt nails painfully sharpened and darkened before his eyes. 

Pain shot through every cell and vein. Every pore and hair seared like hot iron on raw meat. Neer fell backwards, only to be caught by one of the monster’s gigantic hands. His own hand gripped onto the Crimson Lord’s wrist fur. The soft silky fur there seemed to be the only thing that eased the pain. Neer lolled against the monster’s arm, burying his searing face into the fur he found there. The Crimson Lord’s deep voice rumbled around him, but the pain was too great for Neer to hear what he’d said. Though large, the bat creature’s hands were deft. 

He felt something be secured round his throat, and an object pressed to his palm. Great shame and fear flowed through him. Is this how I die? He thought collared and poisoned, without even the dignity of a blade? The pain was too much, and Neer screamed. He screamed long and loud. His throat became raw and sore beyond anything he’d ever felt before. It hurt to move. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to be alive. The last thought that entered his mind before the pain overtook him was this. At least my people will be safe.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Neer woke slowly, head pounding as a war drum before battle. His senses were dialed beyond what he’d ever known. He could hear individual raindrops on the windows, each one sounding off like a gunshot. Boards creaked and stones scrapes from microscopic movements that Neer had never even considered possible before. The pops and crackles of a gentle fire and candles were akin to fireworks booming overhead. The smells of deep musk, old stones, petrichor, burning wood, and damp wood assaulted his nose. The taste of spices was still heavy on his tongue, now greater and far more overwhelming. Though the burning pain in his body had faded, his skin felt bare and sensitive. 

The fanciful robe he’d been forced to wear for the ritual was gone, leaving him in his underclothes and swathed instead in sheets of the finest silk. At least, that is what it felt like against his skin. Opening his eyes was far out of the question. Even the dim firelight was far too great for his aching eyes to bear. Thunder crashed outside, and Neer screamed again. His head felt as though it were being pulled apart. Suddenly, he was drawn into someone’s lap. 

Their body was covered in soft fur and robes that seemed cool to the touch. A gentle claw stoked his jaw as a cup was brought to his lips. Neer drank greedily, the warm drink chasing the pain away. After he’d finished the drink, a hand gently wiped something from his face. 

“Art thou well?” The Crimson Lord rumbled, no longer speaking with his mind. His words vibrated through his chest. Which Neer realized with no small amount of fear that his head was lying against. The light of the candles no longer burned his eyes as he opened them. Hesitantly, he looked up to see the bat-like face of the god of blood staring down at him. His eyes hooded with concern, and to Neer’s utter shock, affection. 

“I’m…” Neer hesitated, dread beginning to weigh him down again. He wanted to jump away in fear, but his body felt like unset jelly. Even the strength to raise his head from the creature’s chest was lost on him. “Why am I alive?” He asked, wincing at the pain in his throat. The Crimson Lord jolted in surprise. His crimson eyes widened as his large ears suddenly shot straight up. 

“What doth thou say? Why wouldst thou not live?” He asked, seemingly distressed “Didst thou expect to die?” At Neer’s look of confusion, the bat god suddenly held him closer, wrapping his many robes and cloaks around him protectively. It occurred to Neer that the sheets he thought were wrapped around him were in fact the same intricate robes of the god. Though now, the creature was the size of a man, his many wings gone. Though he could not see it through the robes and soft chest fur of the Crimson One, he could feel the bat shaking in rage.

“Didst the fools ere thou ne'r bother to explain?” The bat god growled, sending a shiver down Neer’s spine. Slowly he regained the ability to move his limbs, though his movements were clumsy. He pulled away just enough to look at the Sire. 

“My people, are they safe?” I asked urgently. He seemed even more concerned and he drew me back to him to relax. 

“Of course  they are, little one.  The ritual is mere, and the deal struck.  The contracts  hast been written and our union is done.  E'en now mine subjects work to bring thy people food from our lands” He explained, a taloned hand carding carefully through Neer’s hair. Relief and confusion warred in his heart, but in the end, the important thing was his people were safe. But something was not right. 

“Then why am I alive? And what Union?” Neer asked, looking up at the now somewhat flustered deity. 

“'twere  written towards the treaty i sent to thy great grandsires.  Though written  'i  the crimson tongue, mine advisors ensured thy people would understand it.” He said, before clearing his throat. Then, in a calm and melodic tone, the Crimson Lord spoke in verse. His rumbling voice acting as a balm to Neer’s nerves.

“The one whom wears the golden round  

offer blood and heart with pate bowed

 once hand be offered, and they be bound. 

to the people, peace be found”

The words settled in Neer mind, instantly seeing the mistranslations and misunderstandings that must have plagued his family. The mysterious artifact, the scroll which held the “prophesy” was a peace treaty. And a treaty with one truly momentous condition. As pieces began clicking into place, Neer glanced about the room. It was grand, and dark. Rain pattered against wide stained glass windows, dark curtains, tapestries, and carpets covered the walls and floor. The room was lit by a crackling fire in an ornate fireplace and countless candles. The pair were laying on a gigantic bed, with a sheet red tend over it. Curtains hung from the top of the bedframe, drawn back for the moment. 

Lastly, his eyes landed on a mirror, tinted ever so slightly yellow. And he saw himself. His once dark hair was stark white, his eyes glowed faintly red. His skin was pale as milk with no blemishes to be seen. His ears had sharpened to a dramatic point. The rest of him was concealed by the bat god’s flowing robes, though he could see that around his own neck was a thin golden chain. Hanging from which was a ruby the size of a peach pit. Having noticed him staring, the Crimson Lord brushed a claw against the gem and quietly asked. 

“Art thou pleased with thy wedding gift?” He asked. “I resolve to wear the blade thou presented me every day i am able.” And that was the final piece. 

“Oh my gods it was a political marriage request.” Neer mumbled numbly. “Oh my sweet gods I married you.” The thought sent a rush of heat through him. He felt himself become, for lack of a better word, excited at the notion. Only for the feeling to quickly flee from him as the deity chuckled. The creature gently turned his face away from his reflection to meet his beastly gaze. Sorrow and affection danced in his eyes. 

“Thou forsooth didn't realize?” The Crimson One asked. Neer shook his head slightly, his eyes never leaving the beast’s “And thou were so prepared to die so thy people could live?” The creature asked, drawing closer as he did. 

“Yes.” Neer replied, a tear falling down his cheek. He was unsure if it was a tear of relief or one of grief. He had no time to ponder as the god of blood rushed forward. The flash of fear he felt was snuffed out by the passionate kiss he was given as their lips met. Neer melted into the abundant affection, a kind of closeness he had only ever dreamed about. Arms held him close and a strong heartbeat thrummed in time with his own. His excitement returned with a passion, as he pressed himself close to his apparent husband. Slowly, they pulled away from their kiss. 

“Then I could not bid for a better consort.” He laughed. “What is thy name, sweet one?” His breath was warm against the prince’s face. Strange way to begin a marriage, he couldn’t help but think. 

“My name is Neer. Neer of Vathrah.” He whispered in return, somewhat out of breath and certainly disheveled. The Crimson Lord’s hands ran down his back, sending shivers up his spine. 

“I am bid Valadix Impal’vanir, Truly Valadix or Vala for thou.  And I shall worship thou as the god thou art meant to be.” Valadix replied in turn. Their lips met once more as the rain continued to patter against the windows. 

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I'm so sorry for the long delay. I've been dealing with work, my chronic illness, getting sick on top of that, looking for a new room to rent (I only have about a month left to find something, joy) and struggling to get on disability. 

if you wanna peek some spicy stuff follow my bluesky and my FA. Spicy follow up chapter/version will be available on FA and AO3 probably sometime tomorrow, if not this upcoming weekend. >:3c

Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/fledgedragonfox Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/c/A_M_W_Harris Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/dragonfoxafterdark.bsky.social FA: https://www.furaffinity.net/user/fledgedragonfox Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/FledgeDragonFox Tapas: https://tapas.io/A_M_W_Harris Insta: https://www.instagram.com/fledgedragonfox/ AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FledgeDragonFox 

Eldritch Speech translation (rough translation)

My blood into your blood, my heart into your heart. As my blood flows through you, allow yourself to become mine. As yours strength ever grows, allow me to become yours.