#control consent post

[murdermade]

Yoinking this idea from Jax.

Control Consent post!!

Please like this if I am allowed to have Orin do whatever she wants without fear of me thinking I'm godmodding with your character. Orin is a very violent and unpredictable muse and so I would like to have permission to hurt your muse and actually landing those injuries without having to ask.

I assume that by following Orin you are already aware of this but it doesn't hurt to post this to be sure so yeah, like this post if it's okay for Orin to do whatever the hell it is she feels like doing without me fearing someone getting upset with me for it. Liking this will help me a ton!

[dxxtruction]

So this feels sort of obvious to me but Armand doesn’t wish to use or want any power he wants control. Specifically he wants to be in control of his sense of security, safety, stability, and attachments, his survival and identity. He controls what others are doing really only insofar as they threaten the control of any of that, cause he doesn’t really want power over them. (Except maybe Claudia, but I’d argue that is still a control thing). He will willingly forgo using or being in power for control. He manipulates and lies not for power but control. He makes grand displays of his vampire powers or strength not on the central intent of having power over people but for control. He doesn’t back down from Madeleine’s turning to have power over Louis he does it to remain in control over himself. He submits to giving up power for Louis’ power because it feels like it’s all in his control, and disobeys Louis when it’s not. He doesn’t take back power over the coven because he has more control if he does not fight it. His choice is a matter of weighing up how much control he has between the two. If the reasoned way to have control is to use power he will use it. If he doesn’t have to use power to have control, or there’s simply more control in not, he is not going to use it. Of course you will note he is simply very powerful, he has the position and means for it, and his ability to have and get so much control is a power in itself, that power is baked into having control. But he is not like Santiago, who is power hungry and wants and uses any power he can get his hands on. Or Marius who is full of himself on his power and has a sense of entitlement about it. Or even Louis who seeks and uses dominance and capital as power for a means of getting and having control. Armand is going primarily always for control as a means in itself for control, and the demand of it is a very high bar which tends to look like he wants or relishes in using power. But from all I can tell he quite hates it really, submission to power is a place of control for him, but he will use and get power if it’s the most in control means to control he has.

(This is at least as insofar as we’ve seen of him in the show. You could say Armand will have a sort of love with power but then some kind of disillusionment with it in s3, going off what I recall of tvl, that puts him back into this state of needing control being above power which would’ve also been his way of operating with Santino and Marius.)

(Added note: I should say I do believe Armand is almost always aware of his position to his power at all times, it’s not lost on him he is very powerful and can use said power if he so wanted, but it’s a question of his control if he does. He understands power and how to use it or he wouldn’t have such great ability to have and manipulate all this control. Of course he’s not perfect in this either, and I do think a strong sense of powerlessness, and total loss of control can override all his sensibility about power. Anyhow, Armand understands power extremely intimately, from all sides of it, and yet places attention not there but in having control, for the things I described above. Survival for him ranking above concerns like that.)

[iamjucie]

Pet (18+) pt. 3 of 4

photo credit: @astarionposting

Ascended Astarion x f!reader

Chapter Three: Full

I suggest reading the first two of the series before this, there is a bit of a plot in the porn. Just a little.

Summary: You are finally granted the privilege of being filled with your master.

WARNINGS: Smut, Extremely dubious consent, Mind control/manipulation, Orgasm control, Abusive relationship, Stockholm Syndrome, Physical Abuse

I do not say this lightly- Astarion is evil in this. This is an extremely toxic relationship. You have been warned!

(AO3 Link)

Your gaze remains fixated on Astarion, your pupils so dilated with lust that he can hardly see the red in them. 

“Ok my pet,” he coos at you, “what do you desire?”

“I desire to make you happy, master”

“Tsk, you know that's not what I mean.” he begins, putting his feet on the ground and meeting you at your level. He reaches between your legs and grazes his hand over your folds, back to front. He leans into your ear and purrs, “What do you desire?”

A shudder rolls up your spine. You don’t know how he wants you to respond. Your initial response was honest. You sit with a distressed thinking face on as you calculate your next response.

“Don’t hurt yourself now, darling. I would like to have you filled with me before our night ends.”

You look up at him with eyes that tell him all you need to know.

He takes your stare at him as a clue to the answer he seeks.

“Is that what you desire?” he’s leaning into you, slender fingers caressing your cheek. He continues with a whisper, “To be filled with me?”

You stare longingly into his eyes. Fuck he’s beautiful, your lost for words. All you can do is lean your head into his hand and nod.

His gentle smile is stripped from his face as he swiftly removes his hand from your face and connects to it again with a slap, causing you to shriek and place your hands on your cheek where he made his impact.

“What did I say about using our words, hm?” he snaps, tone no longer loving but that of a parent providing discipline. 

You get small and grovel before him. “I am so sorry, master. I did not mean to offend, I-'' you look up at him, connecting with his gaze falling upon you, sopping in pity. “It’s been so long I just don’t know what I- what you want. I don’t remember what to ask for, my mind is not the same as it once was, I fear.”

He sighs, putting his hands onto his knees as he stands up. He rubs the bridge of his nose in thought for a moment. “I suppose I’m partially to blame for that. I wish it wasn’t the case but keeping you in here is the only way I know you will be safe from harm.” He starts to fiddle with the sheets of the bed. “Lack of stimuli for as long as you’ve been in here will begin to dull your mind." his gaze is avoiding yours. Does he know why your mind is slipping? Is he hiding something from you?

No, you think to yourself. You are his Dark Consort. Lovers for eternity. He would never keep a secret from you.

“Maybe I can start making decisions with you again? Like I used to?”  You stand up and approach him with a seductive saunter. “Maybe that would make me sharp and cunning again? Like when you fell in love with me?”

He caresses your cheek and coos, “You are truly adorable, my pet.” he turns from you, beginning to take off his boots. “Help me undress, I’m feeling quite…” he scans your naked body up and down, “...overdressed at the moment.”

You nod your head- then remember your lesson on using your words. “Yes, master. Of course.” 

Once his shirt was removed and he could feel your skin on his, it’s like something awoke inside of him. He shoves you onto the bed, kissing you hungerly and greedily, like he has the hunger of a spawn again- and your kiss is your lifeblood.

Gods, he’s so magnificent. You don’t know how much longer you can wait for him to be inside you. Once you have the opportunity, you blurt out, “Fuck me master.” The desperation in your voice is palpable. So much so that even you might feel bad for yourself if you were an onlooker. “I need to be filled with you, I can’t wait any more.”

He grins ear to ear and sighs proudly, “That’s a very good girl. Great job using your words.”

His praise sends a warm, vibrating sensation to your core and throughout your entire body. You are so happy to have pleased him you can just explode.

No exploding, however. Not yet.

He begins to undo his now modern trousers with several buttons cascading his mound, much different than the ones you once saw him wear so very long ago. The style of clothing changes so quickly when you live forever.

His flawless erection springs free, asking to be attended to. A pearl of precum formed at the head.

“Do you see what you do to me darling? My beautiful pet being so very good is enough to make me hard as a rock.” You feel yourself starting to salivate.

“And you…” he trails his hands down your body, assessing the details of your form. “Are absolutely perfect.”

Of course you are. He made you this way. The absolutely ideal love for the Vampire Ascendant. He deserves no less than perfect. He can’t have anything less than perfect. You would never allow for it.

Your thoughts are halted as he possessively grabs you by the hips. Focusing his attention on positioning his beautiful member to your entrance. He grazes his tip on your folds, moving up to rub it on your clit, drawing a moan from your lips.

He looks at you with a smolder, glad to see you so ready for him. If your moans weren't enough of an indication, then the amount of spend you have coming from your cunt did the job. 

I exist for this.

This is why I was put on this earth.

I exist to serve my master.

The thoughts cycle in your head over and over, unrelentingly loud in your mind until you say it out loud:

“I exist to serve you master, that is why I was put on this Earth”

He leans into your ear, “That’s fucking right you do.”

He pushes into you with the force of a God, quickly pumping in and out of you. Gods, he is huge. You are so full of love and obsession and his- his cock You feel like you can die again. So overwhelmed, so overjoyed, so- full.

You lie on the bed as he brutally fucks your cunt, pumping with unrelenting vigor, leaving your mouth hanging open. His actions draw lewd sounds from your throat. You feel so utterly fucked. 

He stops for a brief moment to flip you so that you are on top of him. You squeak and giggle at the motion, drawing a smile from Astarion’s gaze.

“I want you to ride me, pet.” He hikes his hips in a way that allows his cock to hit the spot that he knows drives you crazy. “I am going to make you come enough times for a lifetime.”

“Oh master I-” you feel yourself losing yourself to pleasure. “I’m so close, master. I’m so close” He reaches his hand to your clit while pumping his cock into your g-spot.

“That’s a good girl” he growls intently examining your reaction to his pleasing you. “Now, be a doll and come for me”

The command slipping from his lips filled your body with white light and heat beyond comprehension. You scream his name and moan as you come positively undone. Your body goes limp, crashing down onto him.

He wraps his arms around you soothingly, rubbing your back. You feel as though you may fall asleep. You are fucked beyond thought, basking in the embrace of both your beloved master and the afterglow of your climax. Astarion’s cock still hard and throbbing inside of you. He is not finished with you yet. Not until his spend is leaking from your cunt and he is empty.

Last chapter: Boots

Next chapter: Pink

[girlwonderous]

I like the part of dc v vampires where it dips into a concept that I always incorporate into my own conception of the batfam of Bruce inadvertently molding and creating his own benevolent betrayers and usurpers…like hmm delicious

[flyingpurplepeopleprogrammer]

Hey uhm I have questions regarding I guess safety? I have never been hypnotized before so I don't have any first hand experience, but am interested.

So my questions are if someone is in a trance, can they get themselves out on their own if they so choose? Does how "deep" the is matter?

Similarly can you resist a trigger? How about a trigger you don't know about, how much does that even matter?

I guess my questions boil down to if there is a danger of losing my ability to meaningfully consent? Or will I just have to trust in the decency of the person I choose to explore that with? Is there a point where it doesn't matter anymore? How much I read on here about free will is fantasy to kink on and how much is real?

Ultimately how much autonomy am I really giving up and can I get it back on my own?

I am sorry if this is rambly and long, but it's something I am concerned about.

Hi, anon! ^^

First off, you're sounding a little shy so let me just say that you've done a good thing by yourself asking these kinds of questions. Lots of people find this stuff intimidating and talking about what you think and putting words to how you feel is a very good first step to being able to play safely and happily.

For that reason, I'd suggest that - no matter what you think of the answers I have for you - these are probably also things to talk about with any prospective partners. No matter the kind of play you're engaged in, having clear ideas in your head about what is and isn't OK for you makes it a lot easier to communicate what you need to communicate or even just identify if something's not OK in the moment.

Now you've asked a lot of different questions, so let's get stuck in:

[…] if someone is in a trance, can they get themselves out on their own if they so choose? Does how "deep" the [trance] is matter?

The short answer is "yes", but as with most of these, the real answer will be "yes, and".

Trance can feel a lot of different ways, and a lot of more "traditional" approaches will produce a trance that can feel lethargic or comfy in ways that might make you reticent to drag yourself up out of it in the same way that you might not want to get out of bed in the morning. Conversely, trance might be disorienting and you might not be sure how to get yourself "out" as it were. If you kinkify mindlessness or helplessness and strive for those feelings in trance, they can interfere with your thinking in a way that might make shifting yourself difficult.

While trance will definitely fade over time if it's not maintained in some way, it's absolutely possible to quickly remove yourself from a trance. The best way to think about how to do this is to think of it as having steps like getting yourself out of any other situation:

First, you have to recognise that you are in this state and would like not to be.

Second, you have to choose to do something about this (e.g., "waking up")

Finally, you have to do it.

This isn't actually that difficult, but recognising that there are steps that can be interfered with can help you identify where things might go wrong.

Usefully, this is all a skill that you can practice and develop. I strongly encourage people to practice - for example through roleplay or dry runs - interactions like telling their partner "no" and waking themselves up from trance. You might, for example, start your practice with hypnosis with some simple instructions to teach you how to wake yourself up. After that, you can practice what it's like to need to communicate safety and consent information, exercise a 'no', and so on.

There's a lot of practical advice here, some of which I've probably written before, but I hope the broad idea there is accessible.

Similarly can you resist a trigger? How about a trigger you don't know about, how much does that even matter?

You can think of hypnosis as a tool that helps us elicit behaviour from our own minds that is normally not consciously directed. For example, our minds are perfectly capable of hallucination and imagination, but doing so on command is usually quite surprising for people.

In this sense, hypnosis is quite literally mind control, but that doesn't make it magic. A "trigger" is a thing that can be understood, albeit messily, as living somewhere at the intersection of a conditioned response and a previously agreed-upon cue. Where precisely it lives will depend a lot on how the trigger was installed. It can be a lot harder, for example, to resist a classically conditioned response than it is to ignore a strictly verbal post-hypnotic suggestion encountered in an inappropriate context. A lot of how you respond to suggestions in general is going to be mediated by your own preconceived notions and feelings.

As will be a theme, I don't think that hypnosis is specially harmful to volition. You can get into a situation where you feel unable to resist an impulse or where your ability to choose is compromised, but my belief is that this would be true even if you weren't using hypnosis. In this context, hypnosis is more like a lever that we use to make the work we're already doing easier.

To me, that's a good thing because it means that the kind of habits and techniques we use to protect ourselves from coercive control in normal settings will also apply in a hypnotic one.

Regarding hypnotic phenomena that you are unaware of, this can absolutely complicate things. Sleight of hand and gaslighting are integral parts of the bad kind of non-consent and, while very very fun to play with, can be abusively taken advantage of.

There's a great deal more that can be discussed in regards to safety and memory play, but I think the most obvious answers are that yes, it can be a complicating factor in one's ability to identify the need to assert a boundary, and that that risk isn't impossible to mitigate.

I guess my questions boil down to if there is a danger of losing my ability to meaningfully consent?

Continuing in the theme, I think that any abusive relationship can compromise your ability to meaningfully consent. The concern with hypnosis should probably be whether or not this might happen without your noticing that it's starting to happen in a way that you don't want and removing yourself from that situation.

That said, people do things all the time that compromise their ability to meaningfully consent and that's perfectly OK. I'm compromising my ability to consent, for example, if I go drinking with my mates. However, I am not making myself unsafe by doing so.

Because hypnosis can take so many forms, I don't believe and don't want to say that hypnosis categorically compromises consent. A hypnosis scene can be collaborative, rather than authoritatively or permissively. When playing with hypnosis, we can emphasise feeling free to communicate and embrace our own agency over feeling controlled or manipulated. The idea that hypnosis is inherently comprompising, in my view, only holds water if you only practice hypnosis in ways that compromise.

I appreciate that I've mostly said "It Depends", here, but I'm hoping that I'm also giving some insight into what it depends on and how to navigate that.

Or will I just have to trust in the decency of the person I choose to explore that with?

I think that, by practicing healthy communication, maintaining your own boundaries, and checking yourself against friends and loved ones, that you are perfectly able to keep yourself safe - at least insofar as any of us are able to do that.

You're absolutely going to to get into a situation where you need to trust people - I honestly don't think it's possible to live life in a way that doesn't need that -, but letting someone hypnotise you isn't going to be a make-or-break decision where you're offering up your volition to some stranger. You can think of it like any other new relationship: having a good sense of yourself and keeping boundaries is always important for keeping shitty people from taking advantage.

Is there a point where it doesn't matter anymore?

I think this is absolutely possible. For some people, it's The Goal. I think that you only reach that point through practice and repetition, however, and no behaviour is so robust as not to be extinguished by a sufficiently disruptive change in environment .

How much I read on here about free will is fantasy to kink on and how much is real?

I have some Thoughts on the concept of Free Will that ought to be a whole other post, but I think the answer to these questions depends on what you want to do and how you characterise your own capacity for choice. I think I've mostly addressed the practical elements, but I'd be happy to have a longer conversation as well. (Given the nuance one has to run into with discussions of free will, I prefer to have those in conversation rather than by correspondence so we can iron out what we mean.)

Ultimately how much autonomy am I really giving up and can I get it back on my own?

Ultimately, how much autonomy you're giving up depends on what you're doing and how you're doing it. This is all, in a lot of ways, in our heads. That's not to say that it isn't real, just that our own beliefs and feelings factor in immensely to how we experience things. I think that, if you don't want to give up a great deal of autonomy and are conscientious that, that you aren't likely to do so unwittingly.

Even if you do find you've misplaced some of your autonomy, you can always pick it back up. It might be a long and difficult road if you give a great deal of your freedom up, but it's never really gone. It's just something that you might not be exercising at that moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for writing. Even though I feel like I skipped over a lot, I know that was a lot. Feel free to ask more or shoot me a message. I find talking in real time to be much easier than through asks, but I totally appreciate if you'd rather not.

I hope you feel empowered to try things out if you want to ^^

[is-this-fandom-who-knows]

It's late and I'm having a lot of feelings about Iris rn.

She was old when she returned to the 20th century. She had lived a life. But we know speedsters reduce aging in those around them that they love. So Iris is reunited with Wally and she loses some age. Not much, because Bart is there and he stills sees her as his grandma, but some. But she distances herself from everyone enough that the little bit of age she loses when she's around Wally and Bart is nominal at first. She loses age a bit quicker once she ends her self imposed exile but she's still not with speedsters all the time. Then Infinite Crisis happens and Wally and his family disappear. Iris doesn't really spend a lot of time with Bart until F:FMA and then Bart dies and Wally is back. She's not spending a lot of time with Wally so she continues to age.

And then Bart and Barry are back. And Iris begins spending most her time with her husband.

Barry hasn't seen her since he died. Before she knew she was pregnant, before she raised their twins, before their grandchildren were born. He knows about it, but he wasn't there, he doesn't know that version of her. To Barry she is still his bride, not yet a mother. So she loses age - fast. The gray leaves her hair and her wrinkles fade and her scars and stretch marks disappear. Because this is how Barry remembers her. And she is beautiful and young and she doesn't have to explain to old friends why she looks twenty years older than she should but she has now lost another reminder of the life she had lived, another connection to her twins, evidence of what she had lived through.

But she can't really be angry at Barry because even though he's the one doing it it's not a conscious decision on his part and he doesn't mean to hurt her and there's no evidence that he can stop doing it and Iris doesn't want to leave him but it hurts. It hurts because her body is not completely hers anymore. She is what he wants her to be whether he's aware of it or not. She loses her bodily autonomy to him. She can cut her hair and wear whatever clothes she likes but she has lost all this proof of her life and she is exactly as her husband imagines her to be, for however long they live.

[cryptosexologist]

the complete incompatibility of Elden Rings’ Ranni ending and Miquella’s goals call it leftist infighting. the communists and anarchists are at each others throats

[wander-wren]

when an artist you follow and really like says they “lean anti,,,,” oh boy

once again to make my stance clear since i haven’t in a while, fiction CAN affect reality but it usually DOESNT in the way antis want to argue it does (do you think fps games cause irl mass shootings?). don’t like, don’t read. harrassment is bad and so is not tagging your shit in the hopes that you will catch someone unawares.

sometimes exploring a fucked up dynamic between characters is fun and interesting.

sometimes art is therapy. you do not have to justify your art with trauma.

i’m aware that i’m probably still on the “good” side of most antis. that’s fine. but i am creeping steadily further toward the “bad” side with every passing month, so i won’t be surprised if that’s different a year from now.

[iamjucie]

A History in Lessons

Chapter 7: "Your Most Prized Spawn" pt. 5

HEY! THIS IS GOING TO BE MESSED UP! ****I know I have the Dead Dove tag on all of these stories, but I really mean it this time. In this, there is descriptions of sexual and physical assault that can definitely be triggering.

If you are uncomfortable reading that but want to continue to read the story, you can with no issues. Just move onto the next chapter, I will be posting it directly after posting this one as its already written. I will put whatever context is needed in the beginning notes there.

special thanks to Helmi (@itsthatpearl on tumblr) and Mert (@mertesque on twitter) for beta reading. And an extra special thanks to Mert for helping me brainstorm, I couldn't have done it without him.

Also, lore note: I'm not sure if it is lore accurate that a Vampire Spawn can be drank from by a Vampire lord, but we are pretending they can. Ok? Cool.

The glow in his eyes dims ever so slightly.

Suddenly, you are back in your body. You aren’t even sure where you were a moment ago. You were here, but elsewhere. Your mind was… different. You wanted to be here, you know that much. But where is here? Who is this man? You’re so disoriented, you take a minute to recollect yourself. A moan is drawn from your lips.

You and the vampire lord find somewhere to be alone.

CW: Depictions of assault, Dead Dove, Mind Control Word count: 1.2k AO3 Link

“Let’s get out of here and find somewhere we can be alone.”

Warmness shoots from your ear to your core. Yes- you need this. You need him. Suddenly you have an appearingly insatiable desire for him. To be with him- no, to be his. All you can manage is a faint nod, words don’t seem to be able to form in your mouth no matter how hard you try. You must be so flustered that you’re speechless.

As soon as you give a semblance of agreement, he grabs your wrist and sweeps you away through the crowd. You’re struggling to keep up with his pace. He’s practically running, twisting your wrist uncomfortably as he pulls. It doesn’t seem to hurt, surprisingly.

He takes you into an empty hallway adjacent to the ballroom. Feral for you, he barges into the first door he sees without a knock or a care about what’s on the other side. You enter the room behind him with a yank from his grip on your arm. It's a bedroom. Your eyes gravitate to a vanity similar to the one Astarion said he loved so much.

Astarion… 

The vampire lord scoops you up bridal style, drawing a giggle from your lips. You kick off your elegant slippers before he tosses you onto the bed. Glowing eyes stare through you as he climbs on top of you, grinding his length into your leg through your dress. Your mind is filled with an unbearable lust that cannot be contained. 

You paw at the bulge in his pants, displaying your desperation for him to be inside you. You want it so badly. No- you’re beyond want, you need him. Your pussy is pulsing and your head is spinning with unbearable lust. He bunches up your dress to expose your folds to the elements. You’re completely bare, wearing no underwear. He inhales deeply through his nostrils. 

A scowl spans across his face. “Someone has already been here, hm? Pity.” a sigh leaves his lips, disappointment in his tone. “I wanted to fuck you myself, but I suppose I can make this work.” he says, staring longingly at your aching pussy. He looks into your eyes and says, “Fuck yourself. And make it good.”

With no thought behind it, your hand moves from his bulge to your cunt. You tease your entrance before sticking two fingers into yourself, massaging your inner walls slowly and sensually. You take your other hand and massage your clit simultaneously. Your head rolls back with a smile spread across your face. It feels so fucking good. Never have you felt such a pleasurable experience masturbating before this. It feels like golden waves of pure ecstasy are washing over you after every slight movement of your fingers. 

“Very nice, love.” He says, hovering above you watching your every movement, watching for the cues indicating you’re close. Your breaths and movements begin to lose any semblance of rhythm. “Now, I’m going to do something. I want you to brace yourself, okay?”

You nod. His words sound like music to you, the most beautiful song you’ve ever heard. You look into his eyes, he is so beautiful. 

The glow in his eyes dims ever so slightly. 

Suddenly, you are back in your body. You aren’t even sure where you were a moment ago. You were here, but elsewhere. Your mind was… different. You wanted to be here, you know that much. But where is here? Who is this man? You’re so disoriented, you take a minute to recollect yourself. A moan is drawn from your lips.

You look at the strange man on top of you and then down to your hands. You’re fucking yourself with a passion that you don’t have, with no input from your brain. Your hands are moving completely on their own. You look back up at the man, horror in your eyes. You scream at the top of your lungs.

“Who the fuck are you?!” You begin to thrash, he quickly puts a hand on your shoulder, pushing his entire weight onto it. You continue your attempt to escape. Thrashing, riving, doing anything to try to get him off of you. His grip doesn’t loosen. He only presses into you harder to punish your lack of submission, eventually dislocating your shoulder. You let out a blood curdling scream from the pain. 

“Why am I here?! What are you doing with my hands?!” Your fingers enter and exit your pussy over and over with vigor while you attempt to wriggle away from the cage he’s made with his body.

A predatory grin grows wide as he bares his fangs at you, “Thatta girl.” he hisses. He grabs your aching shoulder with one hand and your throat with the other, his bruising grip digging into your air pipe. 

You manage to let out a measly “Please don’t…” before he dives into you. He bites your neck with the strength of a beast. A gasp is drawn from your lips that shortly envelops itself into a struggling scream. He drinks from you with an animalistic force and speed, unlike any of the feeding sessions you’ve shared with Astarion.

Your body reacts to you fucking yourself, finally going over the edge. An unfortunate, yet beautiful feeling of euphoria washes over you while this monster is still latched to your throat. Your hands finally are unoccupied, but so much of your blood has already been drained that any attempt to hit or push him falls limp. Your arms drop to your sides, they are so heavy.

Slowly your struggle stops and your body is rendered null as the coldness of blood loss washes over you. Your screams turned into words, words became whimpers, and eventually the whimpers stopped. Your head rolls to the side. Your vision is beginning to be spotty as your eyelashes flutter, fighting to stay open.

He unlatches from your neck with a satisfied sigh. He gets off the bed and straightens his suit. He leans into your view, you’re lying motionless with your eyes still open slightly. “Sorry about dropping the whole compulsion thing. Fear just tastes so… delectable. I’m sure you understand.”

He turns to the vanity in the room. In the mirror is a slight reflection; a mostly transparent image of the monster appears. He takes a double glance at the looking glass before running up to it, placing a hand on the reflection. He stares in awe at the slight preview of himself. 

“Six hundred years…” he stares at himself in the eyes. “Six hundred years since I’ve seen that face. Not in a painting or a drawing. In the flesh.” He continues to stare at himself, barely blinking for several minutes as the reflection slowly fades; most likely due to your ascended blood being digested and recycled inside himself. 

He turns away from the mirror. “You…” he starts as he approaches where you lie. He kneels down next to the bed, inserting himself into your view. He places a hand on your cold cheek and leans his head into the crook of your neck, languidly licking the wound he created. Drinking up the last droplets of your blood. His hand is slightly warmed from the heat he stole from you. “Th-thank you.” He continues staring at you for a moment before standing up and walking out of the room.

You’re still unable to move. Mind clouded and vision blotched with black spots, darkness slowly fills your eyesight. You stare at the mirror that was just so profound for the monster. You close your eyes, succumbing to the heaviness of your eyelids. You feel nothing.

Next part

[yki-dolls]

I am cringe but I am free

[old-acc-discourseisdumb]

Choice is always liberation

ENGAGING IN BDSM IS A CHOICE (mostly) does it sometimes have misogynistic implications? Fs but it’s about a personal lifestyle and culture It’s okay to never want an abortion bc you’d rather trust your faith in god, as long as you believe other people should have the option. You can’t force someone to want an abortion. It’s okay to not want blood donated if you’re a Jehovah’s Witness, as long as other people can get blood. It would be wrong for a doctor to give blood anyway even if they’d die. It’s okay to be a hijabi even though it’s to be modest and protect women from being seen by abusers or evil, as long as not everyone has to wear them. It’s not liberation to be forced to remove a hijab And in the same sense, especially because in Ancient Rome and Ancient Greece BDSM originated as a religious worship method and tales of the gods’ power, just because something hurts or fits an oppressive standard doesn’t make it wrong as long as there is consent. Consent overrides everything.

A woman is liberated if she chooses to be a housewife and her husband would love her even if she wasn’t. Choice is always liberation, even if what you choose is what you were initially forced into.

[askshivanulegacy]

Sorry to disillusion everyone, but this has been the fundamental nature of posting your stuff online since the online began.

All of you with Facebook under your real name, linked to all your other little accounts and platforms.

All of you who post your faces, your kids, your pets, make your hobby about filming yourself on tiktok, put your voice and your reactions onto twitch streaming. Spotify? Gaming? Twitter? Yeah, how much of these were private in the first place? None of it? Well then.

It's already there. It's publicly available and free to access.

The fact that you posted it online is BLANKET CONSENT for every stranger in the world to study and pull together these pieces of you.

It's not being "dredged up," it was given away on a silver platter.

You act like this is weird and invasive, when there are flashing arrows inviting you into all the closets with all the goods.

If this is horrifying to you, you need to understand that you welcomed this and you wanted it. There's nothing weird about it, because you already said YES and made it available to the world.

If you do not know that posting to any online platform is identical to giving your information away, then now is your opportunity to start knowing. Don't post things you don't want the world to know and are uncomfortable with people "stealing." Don't link identities you need to keep separate. Don't use your real name. Don't give access to your workplace or work buddies. Set boundaries. Control access and control yourself.

It's not hard. None of this is surprising. You all did it on purpose.

anyone else exceedingly unnerved tho about how much information is able to be found about luigi mangione by just like. anyone. like why am i seeing posts about his spotify playlists and gaming catalogue. his twitter, his book reviews, his purchases. i do not need to know a stranger down to every minute detail and neither do you

dudes not even convicted and all of this is still being dredged up btw

[iamjucie]

A History in Lessons

Chapter 6: "Your Most Prized Spawn" pt. 4

“My my, isn’t this a lively conversation you two are having. Look at you.” he gestures widely to you and your counterpart. “Making yourselves at home, finding comfort in a seat not meant for you.” his smile disappears and he glances at the setting card at the peak of the formal spread on the table. He looks back at Fuchsia with raised eyebrows with his hand remaining firmly on your shoulder.

You continue to tell the story of Astarion's ascension before you are interrupted by a familiar, handsome, gentle, kind party guest.

AO3 Link Word count: 1.5k CW: Extremely dubious consent, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation

“Perfect.” You lean closer into her, preparing for the dramatic retelling of you and your lover’s origin. “Well, it started on a mindflayer ship.” Fuchsia raises her eyebrows curiously.

“Astarion and I were both kidnapped by this HUGE flying ship. When they captured us, they put these little tadpoles in our eyes and put us in these pods where we were meant to eventually turn into mind flayers.” Her face scrunches in confusion and her head tilts inquisitively in response. 

“You know what a mind flayer is, right? Those purple tentacle faced aliens that eat brains?”

Recollection sparks in her eyes. “Oh yes, I do remember reading about them.” she leans back into her seat, resuming her listening position. “Go on then.”

You lean forward with your elbows resting on your knees. Legs spread apart, ignoring any sort of etiquette you should be following whilst wearing a ball gown of such caliber. “So these dragons started whacking into the ship and knocked me out of my pod. Eventually I took control of the ship and crashed it into the wilderness.”

“Oh my…” She is listening intently. Appearing to have a genuine fascination with your story, despite it having seemingly nothing to do with her initial question.

“For some reason, I didn't die. So I started walking around the beach I crashed at and I found this Shar worshiper lady who had this floating artifact thing that I found out later was the reason we didn’t turn into mind flayers.” You pause for a moment, eyes down and eyebrows furrowed in recollection. “Actually, there was a mind flayer living INSIDE the artifact preventing us from becoming mind flayers.” you look up at her to explain. “Well, he wasn’t inside the box. Like he wasn’t an itty bitty tiny alien. The box ended up being a portal to the astral realm where the mind flayer lived with the prince.” you say matter of factly. 

“Hold on.” She closes her eyes and puts up her hand politely. “The prince?” 

You look up into the air, pondering the direction of your story. “Actually, don’t worry about the prince thing. Just-” you wave your hands around and shake your head, regaining control of the words coming from your mouth for a brief moment. “Sorry, I’m having trouble articulating my thoughts. That wine is so… strong. What kind of wine is tha-”

She cuts you off. “Oh it is perfectly fine, you are a fantastic storyteller. You were saying something about a girl? With an artifact?” 

You put your hand on your chin. Right, you were telling the story of how Astarion performed the ritual. Where were you? Oh- that’s right.

“So, the girl had this box that stopped us from turning into mind flayers from the worm they put in our heads. I start walking around when suddenly I find this guy who says he needs my help but ends up attacking me with a dagger! It was Astarion. Apparently he saw me on the ship and thought I was the one who kidnapped him.” 

You notice that the spawn’s gaze has shifted from maintaining eye contact with you to looking over your shoulder. Her eyes follow something- or, someone approaching you. You feel a large, cold hand slowly being placed on your shoulder. You turn and look up to see a vampire lord glancing down at you with his crimson eyes, smiling a toothy grin. It’s the same man that had been eyeing you when you had entered the ballroom with Astarion earlier.

“My my, isn’t this a lively conversation you two are having. Look at you.” he gestures widely to you and your counterpart. “Making yourselves at home, finding comfort in a seat not meant for you.” his smile disappears and he glances at the setting card at the peak of the formal spread on the table. He looks back at Fuchsia with raised eyebrows with his hand remaining firmly on your shoulder.

“My Lord, we are so sorry.” Your new friend scrambles out of the seat, straightening the place setting and pushing in the chair making it seem like she was never there. She is tense, shoulders raised close to her ears.

“Darling, it was only a jest.” he laughs heartily from his core. Fuschia’s scared appearance isn’t changed by the lighthearted response from him.  “You can sit there, I won’t tell.” he winks.

Her shoulders relax slightly as she cautiously begins to sit back in the seat. Maintaining eye contact with the man as if to wait for the punchline of the joke he is playing on her.

You have remained seated through the entire ordeal, his hand pressed on you signaling you to do so. He kneels down so that he is at eye level with you. “You, however. Will need to leave this place setting.” He wears a look of facetious pity, lips pursed and head slightly askew.

“Wh-what? Um, why?” you stammer nervously. He leans into your ear so close to you that if he were breathing, you would feel his breath on your skin.

“Because you are coming on the dance floor with me, of course.” he purrs. You look at him, his eyes glow slightly. “You do want to dance with me, do you not?” he pouts.

A feeling of giddiness rises from nowhere at the idea of it. Of course you want to dance with him. It would be such an honor. And he’s so, so terribly handsome. You really want to dance with him. So much so, you would surely cry or maybe even drop dead if you don’t.

You glance over to Fuschia. She has a concerned look on her face, her eyes seeming to plead with you to decline. You’re not sure why, though. Why wouldn’t you dance with this beautiful man? Maybe she’s jealous that he chose you to dance with instead of her. Yes… that must be it. You’re so lucky to have such an opportunity. 

He puts his hand out and you place your hand in it, standing up from your seat. You hold his hand as he guides you to the dance floor where others are spinning and dancing with flawless grace. You begin to get nervous realizing you don’t exactly remember how to dance properly. You learned so long ago, you fear you might embarrass yourself. 

As if your dance partner were inside your head, he turns to you and says “There’s no need to be nervous, love. Just relax and it will come back to you.” 

His words wash over your mind, soothing any anxiety you felt. He is so kind and handsome. An image of Astarion flits into your mind for a moment, imagining he was the one dancing with you. Holding your hand, being gentle and kind. 

Why couldn’t he be the one holding you with such a delicate touch? Wait… who is this man? Why are you going with him? You don’t know him, this could be dangerous. You better-

Suddenly your mind is blank. You were thinking of something… what was it? You look up at your dance partner. He is smiling at you. He is so gentle and kind. That’s right! You were thinking about how gentle and kind he is to you. 

He places one hand on the small of your back and the other in your hand holding it up, in position to begin dancing. You stutter in your movements for a moment. Where is your hand meant to go again?

Suddenly without your input, your unoccupied hand moves to his adjacent shoulder. He was right, it did come back to you.

You’re standing still in position before he gives you a knowing glance. Suddenly you are dancing away, like you have been ballroom dancing every night for the past ten years. Your feet are delicately moving across the dance floor, twirling and spinning without a thought behind it- as if your feet are moving on their own. Who knew you were such a good dancer? 

You dance to the lively music for several minutes, and you feel so happy. Whenever the vampire lord looks at you, you’re filled with the giddiness of a school girl with a crush. His gaze sends butterflies to your stomach and a giggle to your mouth. After a little while more of dancing he leans into your ear.

“Let’s get out of here and find somewhere we can be alone.”

Warmness shoots from your ear to your core. Yes- you need this. You need him. Suddenly you have an appearingly insatiable desire for him. To be with him- no, to be his. All you can manage is a faint nod, words don’t seem to be able to form in your mouth no matter how hard you try. You must be so flustered that you’re speechless.

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