#cuspid rot

[scr-ppup]

Dead Snapdragon, Black rajah, and Cuspid rot.

Dead Snapdragon: a presentation term for someone who presents themselves in a distinctive Toxionataline and Surveinine way.

Black rajah: a presentation term for someone who presents themselves in a distinctive Lurine and Surveinine way.

Cuspid rot: a presentation term for someone who presents themselves in a distinctive Canisite and Surveinine way.

IDs in alt text + undercut

Design/term notes: the names were inspider by these little things; dead snapdragons look like skulls. The black rajah butterflies indulge in mud-puddling behavior that means they may suck up sweat, tears, and blood from carrion, nutrition from soil, and so on. And canine tooth rot is meant to be related to the cuspid (aka canine) tooth and general tooth rot. :)

All Icons (both links) except the black rajah buttlefly are from flaticon. The Black Rajah butterfly has been drawn by one of our dogmates. :)

Coined 20.3.2025. // Feel free to ignore/ask to be untagged from future posts + this through comments or asks!

Taglist # @radiomogai @obscurian @presentationflag-archive @rwuffles @smilepilled @catonliine (feel free to ignore.)

~ Ta—Da! Graveyard's Stray.

archive.today llink

Userbox transcript: Remember to check and respect coiners boundaries! Don't repost our terms in public sites such as wikies, Pinterest, etc!/end Transcript. (Userboxes made by headmate, also posted on hampaanirvi.)

ID: six flags in a row of pairs: the first two are identically designed rectangular flags of 9 uneven horizontal stripes, the first four stripes are regular sized and the center stripe is the thinnest. The colors go from top to center as cool tone purple to yellow through green. In the first flag there is a symbol consisting of a twig with three snapdragon flower buds on the right corner with green to purple to dark teal blue outline and cool toned purple color and the second flag is blank. The second pair are identically designed rectangular flags of 9 uneven horizontal stripes, the first four stripes are regular sized and the center stripe is the thinnest. The colors go from top to center as dark brown to light yellow through saturated yellows. On the first flag there is a symbol consisting of a butterfly on the right corner with black outline and black rajah colors and markings; black to brown wings with black decoration and yellow markings on the wings and the second flag is blank. The third pair are two identically designed rectangular flags of 9 uneven horizontal stripes, the first four stripes are regular sized and the center stripe is the thinnest. The colors go from top to center as dark brown to white through light yellow. On the first flag there is a symbol consisting of a cuspid tooth in its socket on the right corner with no outline and a yellowish white to black through brown color the second flag is blank./end ID

[berrykitties]

for scientific purposes (and maybe something more)

🦷 wednesday & enid

🦷 oneshot, 1.1k words

🦷 rated e

🦷 canon compliant-ish, fluff, first kiss

author’s note: hello! another tooth rotting fluff from meee (pun not intended) i hope you guys enjoy this short fic. it would also be a great help if you’d leave a kudos to the ao3 site! or a reblog and like on this post! follow me on twitter if you wanna be friends! @kittybaskets

——————————————————————————————-

It’s been a week since Enid’s first full werewolf shift. She had emerged with fluffier hair, glowing skin, and an unfamiliar smile. Something had changed, something subtle—but Wednesday noticed.

She always does.

She pushed open the door to their shared dorm with her usual quiet resolve, eyes scanning the familiar mess of color and chaos Enid called “decor.” She wasn’t sure what she was looking for—only that she hadn’t seen the werewolf all day, and that small fact had sat uncomfortably in her chest since breakfast.

But she easily found her, lying against the cobweb-patterned mirror, bathed in the warm sunlight, legs tucked in like a cat making a loaf. She was using her phone, doomscrolling through TikTok.

Enid turned, and the raven-haired girl froze.

Wednesday didn’t say a word at first. She just stood there, studying the angles of Enid’s profile, the way the light cut across her features. And when Enid turned her head to smile, Wednesday saw it.

The light caught her teeth when she smiled, and there they were—two sharp, gleaming canines, just slightly longer than before. Not unnaturally long. Not monstrous. Just… new.

Beautiful, she thought to herself.

“Your canines,” Wednesday said plainly. “They’re different.”

Enid blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Your teeth. The upper cuspids. They’ve grown.” Wednesday stepped forward, the door closing behind her with a quiet snick. “Have you noticed?”

Enid’s finger automatically came up to her canines. “Oooh, yeah! Kind of? I mean, I saw them in the mirror this morning—figured it was like a wolfy after-effect.”

“May I examine them?” Wednesday asked, already close enough that she didn’t need to raise her voice.

Enid stared. “My… teeth?”

“Yes.”

“For what purpose exactly?”

“Scientific curiosity.”

“You want to look at my mouth because you’re curious?”

“Yes.” Wednesday folded her hands behind her back, steady as ever. “I want to see how your physiology has adapted post-transformation. Particularly in regard to dental morphology.”

Enid’s expression was caught somewhere between confusion and amusement. “That might be the most Wednesday Addams way anyone has ever flirted with me.”

“I’m not flirting,” Wednesday said immediately, though she could feel the warmth rising in her chest. “This is purely academic.”

“Uh-huh.” But Enid set the book down on her lap and looked up at her. “Fine, knock yourself out. Just don’t, like, write an essay about it.”

Wednesday didn’t respond. She simply stepped even closer until she was standing directly in front of Enid, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her skin.

She reached out with gloved fingers—God knows where those gloves came from—but then hesitated, removing the glove with slow precision. Touching her would be better skin-to-skin. For science—what a lame excuse.

“Open your mouth,” Wednesday asked, gently.

Enid obliged, trying not to laugh. “Okay, doctor.”

She parted her lips to reveal the slight, unmistakable points of her canines. They weren’t grotesque or monstrous. They were elegant, sharp, refined. A perfect blend of danger and beauty—but it leaned more on the beauty side.

Wednesday’s breath caught.

She reached out slowly, almost reverently, and placed two fingers beneath Enid’s chin. The skin was warm. Soft. Too soft.

Enid’s eyes fluttered shut for a second, her breath hitching at the contact.

Wednesday tilted her head, examining closely. Her fingers ghosted along the edge of Enid’s jaw as she studied the symmetry, the shape, the minute curve of bone under skin.

“Exquisite,” she murmured.

Enid opened one eye. “Did you just call my teeth exquisite?”

“They suit you,” Wednesday met her gaze. “Sharp. Unexpected.”

“Well, I’m gonna take that as a compliment then.”

“It was.”

There was a pause. A quiet stretch of seconds where neither of them spoke.

Enid’s lips curled upward into a tiny, nervous smile. “You’re, uh… really close.”

“I need to be. For a proper inspection.”

“Right. ‘Inspection.’” She said it with air quotes.

Wednesday’s eyes flicked down to her mouth.

She wasn’t thinking anymore. Not in the usual way. Her thoughts were jumbled. Cluttered. Her fingers were still touching Enid’s skin, and she hadn’t pulled away. And Enid hadn’t moved either.

“Does it hurt?” she asked quietly.

“The teeth?”

“The change.”

Enid hesitated. “It used to. Not so much now.”

Wednesday nodded slowly. “You’re stronger now.”

Enid chuckled softly. “Is that a compliment too?”

“It’s an observation.”

“Well, thanks for the observation,” she whispered.

The room felt warmer than usual. Brighter, despite the late hour. The golden light pooling around them felt surreal—like a spell, a soft trick of the universe.

Wednesday found herself staring again. Not at the teeth this time. But at Enid’s mouth.

Her lips.

She wondered what it would feel like.

And then Enid said, “Are you going to kiss me? Or do you need a signed permission slip for that too?”

Wednesday blinked once. Twice.

She leaned in.

There was no hesitation. No awkward fumbling. Her hand slid from Enid’s chin to her cheek, thumb brushing lightly over the skin there. She tilted her head the way she’d read about in books—precise, deliberate.

Their lips met softly.

The kiss was warm. Unhurried. Enid tasted faintly of peppermint lip balm and something sweet Wednesday couldn’t name. Her lips parted just enough to breathe her in, and suddenly, the world narrowed to the point of contact. Everything else—the light, the warmth, the ridiculous throw pillows—faded.

Enid’s hand rose to Wednesday’s arm, fingers curling gently around her wrist like she was afraid she’d disappear.

Wednesday deepened the kiss by a fraction—just enough to feel the softness of Enid’s bottom lip beneath her own. Her fingers slid behind Enid’s jaw, steady, curious, reverent. Enid tilted into it with a soft sigh, her hand traveling to Wednesday’s shoulder, anchoring herself there like it was the only solid thing in the room.

When Wednesday finally pulled back, it wasn’t far. Just enough to look at her.

Enid’s eyes were wide, flushed, dazed.

Wednesday’s thumb brushed her cheek again. “You’re no longer just radiant.”

Enid blinked slowly. “What am I now?”

Wednesday didn’t smile. But her voice was softer than usual.

“Magnetic.”

Enid laughed quietly, forehead dropping gently to rest against Wednesday’s. “You say the weirdest things, but they still make me feel like I’m floating.”

“That’s a concerning reaction,” Wednesday murmured. “Perhaps you’re lightheaded. I should observe more closely.”

Enid grinned. “More scientific studies?”

“Endless.”

They sat like that for a while, close and quiet, the silence between them comfortable. The weight of everything unspoken had lightened, settled. And for once, neither of them rushed to fill the space with words.

Eventually, Enid said, “Do you still want to examine my teeth?”

Wednesday pulled back just enough to glance at her mouth again.

“Yes,” she said simply. “But this time, I want to see them when you smile because of me.”

Enid bit her lip, then grinned wide—canines sharp and glinting.

“Like that?” she asked.

Wednesday gave the faintest nod.

“Exactly.”

[sandhawk]

tooth hurty AAAAAAA

[funtimes-inbabylon]

fenrir greyback

"Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels’ hierarchies? And even if one of them pressed me suddenly against his heart: I would be consumed in that overwhelming existence. For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror, which we still are just able to endure, and we are so awed because it serenely disdains to annihilate us. Every angel is terrifying."

Rainer Maria Rilke

Mother told you that her life ended when yours began.

-

Sacrosanct are the fruits of your labor. Rotten in their root, rotten on the tree grown from holy soil. The tree that sheds its skin for you, reaches its tender branches out to you for you take its decaying legacy. Divinity is what you breathe into his flesh, after sinking your teeth so lovingly, so tenderly, into the boy's side. And he tasted so sweet, aromatic to fill your senses with blossoming honeysuckle, pomegranate blood to drip from your full lips. His body a parable, he who is made saint among the wretched. You do not call him son but instead savior.

A pariah, a chosen Messiah. Succinct is your will, writ into him, etched into his skin. Scored stories, didactic in their prose, the way the words form and fall about him. Illustrious in their verses, their psalms that sing into your ears. You'd make him your Bible if he refused to be your godly Prince. You would line him in gold and spin him tales of grandeur. Of kingdoms on clouds, snow-capped spines of mountains and white-feathered servants. You would place words on translucent page, use his skin as script, imperial in your longing.

He'd call you manic in your preaching, your fables and fantasies until you convinced him otherwise. No, not manic, not crazed, lunacy does not run through these veins. He is kept from you, hidden and mistreated - yet you need him near you, where you can plant seeds of righteous thought, where hallowed ideas can bloom. Child, Christ-like, to fulfill a self-appointed prophecy. Delusional, you bit him, delusional, you wanted to raise him.

You read passages from the Old Testament, memorized Lucifer and his morning star. Where Lucifer speaks, the fallen angel breathed through him. He who loved God so dearly, an angel with wings that failed him.

-

It comes to you in fluid dreams, of Catholic renderings, of Ancient Canaanite and Greek mythos poured through your veins. For Eros and the morning star to enter you, to salt the wound that the ropes made, daffodils that grew around you. Fogged vision, surrounding red, blanketed in violet and lily. Lucidly, you line your fingers with golden rings, diamonds placed on them in faceted ovals.

Their teeth flash white ivory in your vision. Their wailing is but illusary to you, it echoes in your mind, overtakes your psyche, as a malign moon burns ocular, circling where you stand. Its silvery light touches you and you cry out, in pain as bones break and form anew. Rip your skin for the sake of change, bleed infected blood, cardinal and ruin.

Hangs like steel manacles around your wrists, tethered to the canine feeling. Imagery and spooled fraternal revelry at your feet, they call you home by howl, compulsion driven by eternal feeling.

-

There is no existence without fear

-

LUCIFER: It may be thou shalt as we.

CAIN:

And ye?

LUCIFER: Are everlasting.

CAIN:

 Are ye happy?

LUCIFER:

We are mighty.

CAIN: Are ye happy?

LUCIFER:

No: art thou?

-

There is no happiness without worship

-

Monarchs fell long before you rose as King. The cushioned crown placed on your head, dealt in jewels and pearls, in where insects surrounding - locusts swarming, their frail bodies quivering, carrying news of your reign on their paper wings. Royalty changed Canis Lupus, and wolves replace soldiers, replace your people, bare their fangs for you. Reach gullets and bite through tendons for you. Bathe in blood, pupils dark, claws tear flesh for you.

You want the same from him, your Godly Prince, to be cloaked in crushed velvet, swathed in red silk, dripping and dripping with golden ruby'd chains for you. You would place him in pelts of wolves, their lives given to you for his return. Where you'd wait on your marble throne for him to beg mercy, forgiveness, divine exoneration from his sin of betrayal, a blaspheme crying crystal tears before you.

You want him crawling back to you, your heir, your only. You want him on hands and knees for you. With head bowed and neck craned, asking for regalia, cratered paradise, elysium nowhere but the palms of your hands. Which, for him to take, is paramount desire. To kiss each jeweled fist and vow loyalty, again, lupine in its hunger. Raven-winged, his plumage onyx iridescent, covertly viridian and cerulean. A jigsawed jaw, the amber of the moment, the snapping of fangs and where bone breaks cleanly to reveal itself rimmed with iron and wine.

Dionysiac in your raging prowess, you'd no choice but to tie his hands with the fated red thread.

These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness And in the taste confounds the appetite: Therefore love moderately; long love doth so; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

William Shakespeare, Romeo & Juliet

I. INTIMACY WITHOUT FEAR

For his name to be on your tongue, to embrace your very teeth and cushion between words. He was pillowed, perfect synonyms of grace and utopic euphoria. Placed, crucifix, in a crown of laurel and olive. To feel him before you, come to life, reverie-like in a fixed reality. How mist surrounded him, a pull inward, to fold over himself not in pain but ecstasy. To feel the divine glory, venerated light drug through gaps in the wall, pellucid in window panes, behind stained glass mosaics, your portrait hung from the wall behind him. A line of pews for his followers to preach, to listen with intent, eager ears - to hear that their worries would ebb, as he would grant their redemption.

II. INTIMACY IN WAVES

He'd come to you in a daze, in a trance of circling hounds, a canine ouroboros. He pulls cuspid and molar from his mouth, places them in your hands, pearls of bones to be stringed together, to hang from your blessed throat.

Metacarpus in mineral, a backbone carved from lapis lazuli, bruised, redolent eucalytpus leaves to cloak in archaic fashion. A wine reminiscent of velour. He'd look at you with glazed eyes and you would speak his name, feel it wash over every inch of you.

III. INTIMACY IN A SHARED MOON

It wanes, a harvest moon riding your shoulders, and you'd be haunted - a spiritual representation of the past before you. Wrapped in waving neon, tender kinetics of ghosts squeezing your soul between histrionic fits. Fistfuls of ripe berries, bleeding violet through fingers, digits veiled in pulpy residue.

Morning is pure, stained carmine in the wake of savage passion.

"There is to me about this place a smell of rot, the smell of rot that ripe fruit makes. Nowhere, ever, have the hideous mechanics of birth and copulation and death — those monstrous upheavals of life that the greeks call miasma, defilement — been so brutal or been painted up to look so pretty; have so many people put so much faith in lies and mutability and death death death"

Donna Tartt, The Secret History

[kaizykat]

TW: Body/Teeth Horror, Medical Malpractice, Capitalism

Another one of my teeth started to break apart today. I’ve had three molars rot out completely and one that was pulled.

The one that started breaking today is (I think) a cuspid, which is going to leave a noticeable gap in my smile.

But worse still is the realization that all of my front teeth are showing signs of rotting out.

Why don’t I just get them fixed? $$$$$$$$ I had a dentist quote me at $8,500 for bridges. And that’s what was already wrong with them. Insurance doesn’t cover it because it’s “cosmetic” work.

Ugh. If all of my front teeth have to come out, I’d imagine that the total cost will be somewhere in the $15,000 - $30,000 range.

My total income every month is ~$800. I spend $600 of that on rent.

Why do I have such bad teeth? Well, I didn’t have the money to take care of them because it’s not covered by health insurance.

Plus, a horrifying experience that I had when I was around 3-years-old that can be coldly summed up as medical malpractice involving multiple tooth extractions without any analgesic. My family didn’t have enough money to sue, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Is there an aspect of my childhood that wasn’t horrific?

[vipipiblog-blog]

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