#now with unfucked links

[denniswilsonzine]

Updated list of places to find me / where I sell etc.

*Updated for 2024* Because I’ve now got so many different stores etc. I’m finding it hard to remember them all.

Social media/blogs/sites etc. : Tumblr: right here @ denniswilsonzine https://denniswilsonzine.tumblr.com Twitter/X: dwfanzine https://twitter.com/dwfanzine

Facebook: also dwfanzine https://www.facebook.com/dwfanzine Instagram: thoughtsofdennis https://www.instagram.com/thoughtsofdennis

Ko-fi: dwzine -

blog, shop, gallery & tip-jar - don’t buy me a coffee, buy me a glue stick lol : https://ko-fi.com/dwzine eta: I appear to have created a patreon patreon.com/jenna_appleseed

*& I’ve now joined threads if anyone’s on there* https://www.threads.net/@thoughtsofdennis + the same for Bluesky https://bsky.app/profile/dwzine.bsky.social Pinterest - not updated that often tbh : dwfanzine https://www.pinterest.co.uk/dwfanzine Basic links page on mmm.page: https://mmm.page/JennaA.zines Mostly abandoned attempt at a forum: http://thoughtsofdennis.co.uk/forum Shops: Ko-fi shop: https://ko-fi.com/dwzine/shop

Itch.io: https://jenna-appleseed.itch.io

Etsy: JennaAppleseedsstuff (zines & merch category link) https://jennaappleseedsstuff.etsy.com (^ sometimes also sell craft supplies and vintage stuff there.)

Changed my mind & i’m back on gumroad: https://dwfanzine.gumroad.com

Limited Run: https://jennaappleseedszines.limitedrun.com

Payhip: https://payhip.com/dwzine

Store Envy My Store Envy store appears to have been eaten :-( actually no it just needed turning on again https://jenna-appleseed-s-stuff.storenvy.com

Merch only: (None on sale atm but print zine will go on there when they come out) 

Ebay: thoughtsofyou - link to zine merch specific item(s) only https://www.ebay.co.uk/usr/thoughtsofyou  account mainly used for selling off random tat inc geek/music stuff.

Ebid: Jend - zine merch item(s) only https://www.ebid.net/uk/users/jend/listings again account mostly used for trying sell random tat

Have I forgotten anywhere?

[not-poignant]

I don’t know if you've found something by now but I think you asked for recs about dealing with the new desktop and this just crossed my dash: https://github.com/enchanted-sword/dashboard-unfucker

Yes! I'm already using it :D

But highly recommend it to anyone else on desktop who hates the new dashboard (visually for me it's a massive accessibility issue).

I installed the Tampermonkey extension on Chrome and Firefox, and then got Dashboard Unfucker via github, which was an extremely painless process.

Anyone else who is struggling with the new dash on desktop, try it please!

[nudist-squid]

got tagged by my dear @rainbowgaez to do one of those shuffle your songs and post the first ten thingies so here goes:

Mach Hommy: Bunny Ciao

SZA: Garden (Say It Like Dat) JID: Crack Sandwich Green Day: Prosthetic Head The Alchemist: Turkish Link Frank Ocean: Bad Religion Charli XCX: Visions Westside Gunn: Eddie Kingston Earl Sweatshirt & The Alchemist: Mancala Mos Def: Brooklyn

i'm bad at tagging ppl i don't like leaving anyone out lol, if u follow me and wanna do this then gonna say to DO IT!!!

[pixiel]

I created a Userstyle for the Chrome/Firefox Stylus Extension that reverts the new dashboard to the old format. This took a lot of tweaking and it's not perfect at all, but if anyone wants it I'll be uploading it soonish now!

You need to have Stylus installed. So if you don't have it:

Install the Stylus Firefox Addon or the Chrome Extension (You can install Chrome Extensions on Edge as well)

Once it's installed into Firefox/Chrome/Edge you can proceed with adding this style or any other.

To add the style, follow the instructions:

Go to this link: https://userstyles.world/style/11286/old-tumblr-dashboard-july-2023

Click on "install".

Style will open a tag with it and in the left side you'll have a button that says "install style", click there. (Step-by-step copied from the lovely dorothyoz39 who wrote this in a reply!) If you don't want the sticky header you can remove the labelled script at the top of the css below /* Sticky Header*/

Be sure to check for updates regularly, I'm fixing things as I go! And because everyone keeps asking here's how to support me on Ko-Fi https://ko-fi.com/pixiel !

To update click the Manage button on Stylus and click the check for update button below then click again to install! If you experience any bugs let me know - feel free to edit it yourself as well! P.S. This userstyle works just fine alongside Xkit!

NEW UPDATE: 27/04/24, 2:15AM BST v11.6

v9.6: Moved the Following | For you | Your Tags to below the create a post panel. Fixed the Accounts Menu! + Bugfixes V10.3: Patio compatibility. Added a way to hide the Patio button & "patio feedback?" button, just search for patio in the code and follow the instructions! v11.0: Temporary Chat feature fix after Tumblr broke it, fixed some positioning issues and j/k scrolling!

UPDATE (12/04/2024): YOU CAN NOW UPDATE YOUR OLD TUMBLE DASHBOARD AGAIN!! After letting the server rest everything is now fixed. I will be leaving the Tampermonkey Backup still up but it will have less-frequent updates to remain a backup so please use the Stylus version!

If anyone wants to help test out a new feature (Post width, dashboard positioning, etc) it would be super helpful! Read more about it here and shoot me a message!

THE CREATOR OF THIS USERSTYLE SUPPORTS THEIR TRANS SISTERS. WE'RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER!

Thank you dragongirlsnout for all your work on Dashboard Unfucker it was amazing working towards the same goal of fixing this website with you! As a Trans person (Agender, They/Them) I am saddened by the issues trans women have been facing on this site and the women who have been bullied into leaving Tumblr for good. I wish the best for you in all that you do next!

Check the readmore for the changelog, custom code & known issues!

----- Known issues:

Only two columns in Masonry view. Unfixable, Tumblr creates columns based on monitor size, if I try adding another column (because it doesn't exist) it just perpetually loads on screen. Tempfix: Zoom out in chrome/firefox and it adds more columns

Search bar doesn't appear on some pages (like viewing a post), this is because Tumblr removed the search bar on those pages completely. Unfixable!

Tumblr has ONCE AGAIN CHANGED THE ACCOUNTS MENU. The menus are now shorter and have less information on them. This is unfortunately permanent. I do not see any way to fix this. Unfixable.

If you want people's icons to stay fixed in place, instead of scrolling with the dashboard add;

.FtjPK .AD_w7 .JZ10N, .RYkKH > .nZ9l5 { top: 0px !important; position: relative !important; }

to the top of the code! You can also create a second userstyle by clicking the 'tumblr.com' part of the link in 'Write new Style' and adding the code in there! That way you don't have to worry about re-adding it when you update.

Solved issues: (Update)

Menus need to be manually closed SOLVED! in V.4 and updated in V.5! The menu & icon WILL scroll with you if you have removed the sticky header CSS, however, clicking anywhere on screen will make the Menu disappear still.

Masonry view in searches is now fixed!

Resized Messenger Chat Box!

NEW UPDATE 16/08/23, 23:55 BST v6.5: Figured out how to reorganise the icons in the header. Let me know if you have any problems with it and make sure to update your Userstyle! Some icons are hidden with Display: Block; you can hide more icons with this method!

Solved issues p2

Brought back SOME of the icons for Tumblrs latest update - Unfortunately, this does not bring back user icons for Reblogged posts! Make sure to yell at Tumblr for removing the icons as well as the horrible dashboard update here! v7.5 Fixed icons for all posts and put them back where they came from!

v6.9.6.9 (I promise this is the last funny number): Fuck Off Buggy The Clown Update + All languages support for the old header design!

v7.0: Fixed the search bar for tumblrs new collections feature, so it looks like the original search bar!

v8.0: Fixed masonry view icons, hidden the reblog icon on dashboard icons, fixed icons in blog viewport

V8.1: Fixed issue with icons not working on soft-refresh & with endless scrolling disabled - be sure to complain to staff!

v9.3: Changed a few things with the search feature, I also made the posts less round.

UPDATE2 11/04/2024: SO We mighhtttt have overrun their servers. 😅 I'm getting a 500 Internal Server Error every time I try to fix it or upload it as a new style - the massive influx of people downloading the userstyle was probably too much. The Tampermonkey backup on Greasyfork works just fine though! Probably easier for a lot of people migrating anyway! UPDATE 11/04/2024:: My code has broken on Userstyles.world, (it is now fixed as of 12/04/24) until this is fixed I have created a Tampermonkey Backup Version of the Userstyle so feel free to use this version if you've broken yours!

https://greasyfork.org/en/scripts/492279-old-tumblr-dasboard-backup

[dragongirlsnout]

[greyias]

Oh look, it seems everyone has been opted into the unfortunate "experiment" now. For everyone who has been blissfully using the old UI up until now, welcome to hell :)

Do you not like hell? Do you want to leave and crawl back up into the sunlight of the old UI? Well, have I got a link for you! A beautiful tumblr user (who is not me) has gone and fixed things beautifully for you already: https://github.com/enchanted-sword/dashboard-unfucker

You will need to have Tampermonkey installed on your browser of choice, and once that's done, just go to the github link above, and peruse the readme to install. And voila! You have your old dash back!

The authors of XKit Rewritten said during the experiments that at the time, since this was an "experiment" they weren't going to implement anything to revert to the old UI (although who knows if they'll do it now). And the dashboard unfucker has worked beautifully enough for me to where I genuinely couldn't tell if they had ended the experiment or not.

[phoward89]

Banner by me, dividers by @saradika-graphics

Based on this ask

Love Is A Losing Game

The avox stood against the wall, waiting for you to beckon, while you sat in your sunroom with your longtime best friend, Livia. You were at a small table drinking tea and listening to her complain about her toddler, Plutarch.

“Ugh. I swear, I can't even go to the powder room without him following me.” Reaching for a biscuit, your dirty blonde friend sighed, “I told Hilarious that we need to hire a nanny, but he said no.”

She took a small bite of her biscuit as you sipped on your tea. You didn't know why she was so upset about her toddler wanting to spend time with her. And you told her so too.

“You just don't understand how demanding motherhood is, Y/N. Just you wait and see.” Pointing to your round belly, Livia factually remarked, “In a few more months when you pop out Coriolanus’ little brat you'll be singing a different tune.”

“Don't call Cassian Xandros a little brat.” You snippily ordered your friend, causing her to just roll her eyes at you. Setting down your teacup, you decided to change the subject to something that you needed to get off your chest; something that's been eating away at your mind. “I think Coryo's having an affair.”

“He's only been president for a few months, Y/N. If word got out, well, it'd be scandalous and I'm sure his political career would be dead in the water.” Livia told you while nibbling on her lemon butter biscuit. “Do you know with whom?”

“No, but I know he has to be having an affair, Livia. I mean he comes and goes at all hours and half the time he's not even coming to bed; we haven't slept together in a while too.”

“Oh no, now that is a problem.” The dirty blonde socialite sighed. “I bet it's Clemensia Dovecote that he's cheating with. You don't know, since you were a couple grades below us at the Academy, but they were always walking into the school linked arm in arm. Even though they denied it, they looked like a couple back then.” Livia bluntly informed you, picking up her teacup and sipping it.

“Really? I didn't know that.” You honestly told your friend. Reaching for your own teacup, you revealed the name of the person you thought your husband had a thing for back in his Academy days. “Coryo was always with Sejanus back then; I always got the vibe that they were a little bit more than just friends.”

“Oh I hope not. He was district.” Livia spat out; the thought of the president having a past love affair with a district person making her skin crawl.

If only she knew about what went down between him and Lucy Gray. Oh, she'd shit her pants if she knew about that.

You know, of course, since he told you about it after a year of dating. When you had to all but pull his teeth to get him to reveal why he refused to tell you that he loved you; show you anything other than lust and his OCD tendencies.

It didn't bother you.

Correction, him having Lucy Gray as his ex and his failed first love didn't bother you, but the number that she did on him- now that’s what bothered you.

She fucked his head up pretty bad; took you a long time to unfuck it up too. To get him to be able to confess his love to you.

But somewhere deep inside of your soul, you always feared that Coryo was just telling you what you wanted to hear. That he didn't truly love you; that he could turn to somebody else once he got bored of you.

“Yea…but they were close friends. Like brothers” You reminded Livia. “And his death hit Coriolanus hard.”

That was an understatement. Your husband still had nightmares about his fellow comrade’s death. It happened a decade ago, but he was still haunted some nights by nightmares. Those nights you usually had to ride his cock to calm him down so he’d be able to go back to sleep.

He never talked about the nightmares, other than the one time he told you that it was about Sejanus’ death. You never pried, knowing that the Plinth boy's execution was a taboo topic for Coriolanus.

The socialite rolled her eyes, only to suggest, “If you think he's having an affair then you should wait up for him tonight and confront him.” Giving you a look from over her teacup, she added in, “It's what I would do.”

Coriolanus was exhausted. No, wait, take that back- he was FUCKING exhausted.

Between trying to clean up the fucking mess that older then dirt President Ravenstill left for him and trying to ensure a smooth transition of head gamemaker duties to his successor (a recent University grad that sadly didn't know his ass from a hole in the ground), he was stretched too thin.

Burning the candle at both ends as one might say.

He was barely sleeping; worse he was barely able to spend anytime with you.

You were 6 months pregnant with his first child.

A son.

He felt guilty for being in his office on the opposite side of the presidential palace or at the Citadel, but he didn't have a choice. The games along with trying to keep the country afloat was his top priority.

As much as he wanted to spend his late afternoons and evenings with you, he couldn't. And he wanted nothing more than to fuck you dumb on his dick every night too, but sadly he was just too tired anymore for that either.

When the new Head Gamemaker calls up in the middle of the night frantically asking what to do if an intern falls into a mutt tank…well…yea…that's when Coriolanus knows he has to do two jobs instead of just one.

He's stuck puppeteering the new head gamemaker *cough* telling him step by step how to do is damn job since he fucking fudged his job application and has shit for brains *cough* and running a country that's national bank account’s lower than it should be *cough* looks like President Ravenstill and his cabinet were embezzling funds or something cause the numbers aren't adding up *cough*.

“Yes, well, if you need any more assistance on this matter don't hesitate to call.” Coriolanuse tightly told the Head Gamemaker. The man was grating on his nerves. Before the unqualified idiot could utter a word, the president said goodbye and hung up.

Hung up with a firm, loud, clunk since he was so tired and aggravated.

Unfortunately, the president was always tired anymore. He was even too tired to fuck you these days, which was truly depressing for him since your Coryo felt you were even more beautiful now that your belly's round with his child.

Coriolanus felt that your pregnancy makes you look radiant. Your skin had a glow to it, he felt you look ethereal.

Your tits were full from the milk your body was making in order to feed your son once he was born; he loves your milk heavy boobs. Coriolanus Snow’s a tits and ass man; so your boobs going up by 2 sizes was heaven for him. The president enjoys sucking and massaging them in his large, calloused hands while you ride his cock. Burying his face in them, peppering kisses in your cleavage.

Something his exhaustion has been keeping him from doing.

Also, your ever growing belly (full of the precious life you created during a very passionate and lustful night 6 months prior) made his chest swell with a burning pride. Coriolanus loves kissing your stretch marks and running his hands all over your belly.

He also enjoys whispering to your belly, telling your growing son all kinds of father-son secrets.

But he’s been too tired and tied up with his never ending work to do that ritual.

Half the time he was passing out on the sofa in his office before he could even make it to your room; the other half of the time he was sliding into bed in the wee hours while you were in a deep sleep.

He hated it.

But he has to endure it because he refuses to have the games flop during his first year as President of Panem.

When Coryo dragged his feet into your large, ornate bedroom he wasn't expecting you to be up, waiting for him. He assumed you'd be asleep, like every other night.

“It's nearly 2 in the morning, Y/N. Why aren't you sleeping? You know you need proper sleep in your condition, my darling rose.” Your husband lectured you, tiredly fumbling to untie his tie.

You decided to do what LIvia suggested. Wait for your husband and confront him. So, when he shuffles into your room, a sight for sore eyes, with the nerve to lecture you about being up, you lost it.

Your eyes narrowed at the president as you snipped out, “Coriolanus, I know you're cheating on me. Who is she? Is it Clemensia Dovecote or somebody else?”

Pulling his tie off and tossing it to the side, he looked at you as if you had lobsters crawling out of your head. You’re accusing him of having an affair. Seriously?

“With how I’m spread too thin, darling, where would I ever find the time for an affair?” Coriolanus chuckled.

He thought this was funny, oh how dare he!

“This isn't funny, Coriolanus! You're coming and going at all hours; we never sleep together anymore. Who is she?!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, watching your husband unbutton his waistcoat and take it off.

The platinum blonde’s long fingers numbly unbuttoned his shirt. His tone was flat and tired as he gave you the blunt answer of, “The she that's taking all of my attention off of you, my love, is the shaky finances of Panem and the Hunger Games.”

All of the air was knocked out of your lungs upon hearing your husband's words. All you could do was blink. “What?” you whispered in disbelief.

Coryo's shirt hit the floor, in the pile his red waistcoat and tie was in. Toeing out of his shoes, he sighed, “Being president and passing the baton for the games to an under qualified head gamemaker, unfortunately, has taken up all my time.” Unbuckling his belt and pulling down his deep crimson pants, he offered up a sincere apology of, “I’m sorry, my darling rose, that my neglect made you think, even for a moment, that I’m being unfaithful to you.” His pants pooled around his long, pale legs, and he gracefully stepped out of them. “Y/N, I truly did not mean for you to feel such a way, my love.”

Watching your husband pull off his socks and toss them to the side, you cried tears of joy. “I forgive you; I'm just happy that it's work taking up your attention and not some whore.”

Coriolanus tiredly made his way over to the king-sized bed you shared and climbed into it. Pulling you into his arms, he let out a puzzled scoff of, “Clemmie? Really, of all people to accuse me of having an affair with it's her?”

“I didn't accuse you of cheating with her; that was actually Livia this afternoon when I told her that I suspected you of having an affair.” You informed your husband as he pulled the blankets over the both of you.

“You told that bitch you thought I was cheating on you?!” Coryo exclaimed, his nostrils flaring; baby blues wide in utter horror.

“Don't call Livia a bitch, Coriolanus.” You reprimanded your husband, only to remind him that, “She's my best friend.”

“I don't know how you're best friends with that shrew, darling.” Coriolanus mumbled mostly to himself, even though you heard him. His large, calloused hand rubbed your ever growing baby bump softly. “Telling Livia your ill founded fears was a mistake. She'll just tell that political reject husband of her’s; he'll be calling up Capitol News 6 with a juicy insider story about the unfaithful president.” Coryo’s tongue popped angrily. “My fake affair’s going to be the the main news headliner tomorrow morning, my darling rose.”

“No, it won't, Coryo.” You assured your husband since you had too much faith in your best friend.

Your husband on the other hand didn't have faith in Livia Cardew-Heavensbee, at all. No, he didn't trust her after the temper tantrum she through when her mother informed her that he was courting you, General Prometheus Byzantine’s step-daughter, and had refused to meet with the Cardews regarding a money match.

Coriolanus never told you about that because he didn't want to taint your friendship with the dirty blonde shrew, who only married Hilarious because she couldn't have him: the adoptive heir to the Plinths fortune.

But now maybe it was time to tell you. Maybe it was time to taint and ruin a girlhood friendship of yours.

Only to ensure that you wouldn't trust anyone that didn't carry the Snow name.

Yes, the only people you could trust were him and Tigris. He was even leery about Tigris’ new lover, Aleka. Eh, but that was because his spies haven't been able to dig up enough information on them for the president to decide whether or not they were trustworthy.

But, he's sure that after he tells you the truth about Livia that you'll be rethinking that friendship.

And when (not if) that article hits the news as the big headliner, he'll make sure to invite Hilarious over for drinks.

Drinks that only one of them will enjoy.

Snow lands on top and he'll make sure that anybody who slanders his good name or makes you believe he's an unfaithful man, when he's actually the most devoted and faithful husband in all of Panem, chokes on their own blood.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen , @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons, @qoopeeya, @mfnqueen1

[tiredmamaissy]

Non-Unrequited Love: Part II

Read Part I, Part III & Special Ep. I here. (Links are also below)

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Characters: Lo’ak Sully (18) x Omatikaya Reader (18)

Warnings: nsfw, heavy smut, profanity, foreplay, oral sex, lo'ak in rut

Word count: 3.8k

Authors Note: enjoy!

Synopsis: Now that you're lo'aks mate, you calm him during his rut.

Previously on, Non-Unrequited Love:

...’Now we are mated, before Eywa.’ Your chest gets hot.

‘For life.’ His leans in and kisses you passionately...

You are yet again exploring his mouth with your tongue, but this time with a little more experience. He’s grabbing you by the waist and manhandling your hips, pulling you as close to him as he can. You can feel the urgency in his touch, his hands searching each inch of your untouched, unfucked body, eager to make it his.

You’re both moaning into each other’s mouths, panting, and gasping for air, while you search each other’s bodies clumsily. There is so much to explore, and so much to learn about one another.

“Lo’ak, touch me here” you bring his hand to your breasts, “it felt good when you did it earlier”.

His hands fumble with the thin cloth covering your breasts, eagerly trying to unknot it. Out of frustration, he rips the cloth down the middle, exposing your aroused breasts. It’s the first time that he’s seeing you naked like this. He stares longingly at your chest, admiring the different textures and colours before him.

“I said touch them, not burn holes into them” you cover them with your hands, feeling shy.

“Why are you hiding? You’re beautiful.” He says, gently pulling your arms away from your chest.

Can I taste them? he looks at you through faded eyes, kneeling slowly.

You’re so out of it. You smile, bringing his head to your left breast. His lips part slightly, blowing hot air on to your breast, making your nipple even harder. You guide his open mouth to your nipple. When he takes it into his mouth, you can’t help but moan.

“Ngh!” He sucks your breast harshly, succumbing to the urges of his rut. “Ah! Gently...” you hiss.

He looks up at you, with reptilian eyes and unlatches. He wipes his mouth, and mumbles through pursed lips “Sorry”. You look at your breast to see a rounded bruise-like mark left on your areola - a hickey, bright and pink, with small red dots. 

You smile at him, reassuring him with your eyes that it is okay. “Now, this one” you say, nudging his head over to your other nipple.

He starts by licking your nipple with the tip of his tongue, listening to your breath to know what feels good. He slowly takes you into his mouth, and suckles awkwardly, trying to find a good pace and rhythm. His quick sucks send small shocks throughout your breast, making you take a sharp breath.

“Feel good?” he mumbles between sucks, drunk off the flavour of your skin.

“Yes” you close your eyes tightly, “f-feels great”.

You pull his head closer to your breast, gripping his braids tightly. He sucks rhythmically, occasionally tickling the most sensitive part of your nipple with his tastebuds. You feel his hand slide slowly against the soft flesh between your thighs, rubbing it as gently as he can. Your loincloth is soaked, wetting his fingers that fondle you innocently.

Surprised by his glossy fingers, he pulls away from your breast, his mouth making a popping noise, and moans “Shit. You’re soaking wet, y/n”. He smells his fingers eagerly, trying to pick up your scent.

Soo good. He sniffs your natural scent once again, holding his breath to savour it.

“I want to taste here, too” He pleads, fiddling with the knot on your undergarments, making his way down your body.

Jeez, Lo’ak. You blush, slightly humiliated.

Placing your hands gently on his jaw, you pull him back up to you, and plant kisses all over his face. These kisses morph into your flushed cheeks caressing one another, cherishing the smoothness of each other’s skin. You work your way back to his wet lips, covered in saliva from suckling at your breast, and kiss him sloppily.

Your hand falls down to his crotch, feeling the warmth of the bulge in his loincloth. His quick pants turn into groans as you rub against the imprint of his cock.

“It’s so thick...and stiff.” You whisper, between frantic kisses.

He breaks the kiss, peering down at your hand fondling his bulge. His face stains pink, as your touch feels so, so good. You slide your hand into his loincloth, and his head slowly dips back while squeezing his eyes shut.

“Nggh... y/n.” he pants, rubbing himself against the palm of your hand.

You see your chance to take advantage of his exposed neck, sucking on it harshly, leaving behind the same marks that are on your breasts. You feel his swollen head, resembling that of a mushroom in shape, pulsating in your hand.

The pressure in your chest builds, and you feel a new feeling in your own pelvis growing. You struggle with the knot of his loincloth, eager to free his throbbing cock.

Easy, pretty girl. He holds your shaky hands.

“Look at us, two na’vi, in a jungle, all alone” he smirks, helping you unknot it.

You watch as it flips up, hitting his stomach, leaving a wet spot behind. Your eyes bulge at the sight of it. It’s so much bigger than you had imagined - than in the filthy dreams you’ve had of him. He notices the shock on your face, “didn’t think I’d be so big?” he lets out a breathless laugh.

Your eyes fall to your feet, realizing that you’ve been staring too long. “Why do you smell like the rain?” you change the subject, shyly.

It’s my pheromone. You can smell it because I’m in rut.

You smell good. You nestle your face into the crook of his neck, wrapping your fingers around his cock.

He bucks his hips slightly, reacting to the firm grasp on his member. He slides his knee between your legs, using it to put pressure against your slit as he kneads your breast. You find yourself humping slightly against his leg, breathing heavily into his neck.

“I want to taste you too” you say desperately, now stroking his entire length.

Losing control by the second, Lo’ak shakes his head. “Soon, mate. Hold on a little longer.” He kisses your neck, sucking on it lightly, trying his hardest to cherish this moment as himself. He swiftly replaces his knee with his hand, rubbing circles in your soft, most vulnerable area.

“Mmnhh” you purr into his ear, trying to keep your moans to a minimum.

He moves your loincloth to the side and feels your wet, hot slit, “you’re so warm, here.” He mumbles between kisses. “So slippery, and wet.” He pants hot breaths onto your neck. He moves his fingers towards the top of your slit, gently rubbing your swollen clit. “All because of me?” he nibbles on your collarbone.

A strange feeling builds in your chest, getting more and more intense the longer he rubs you “Mmh! Yes!” you whine, stroking his cock even faster.

He works his way back up to your lips, kissing them ravenously. You feel him getting rougher, and more insistent with his movements. He inserts his middle finger inside of you, hooking it upwards to massage the spongey part of your heat. The pressure building in your chest overpowers the slight sting from his rough fingering. A loud moan escapes your mouth, as you grind your pelvis onto his hand.

Soon his massages turn into thrusts, his body language driven by his impulses. “I want to be inside of you so badly, y/n” he growls deeply into your ear, humping into your hand that grips his cock.

“So, fuck me Lo’ak.” You demand, surprising him and yourself by your lewd words. The feeling in your chest is so overwhelming you feel like you’re about to implode.

Without warning, he roughly withdraws his finger from you and pushes you away from him, breaking tsaheylu. He looks at his feet, panting heavily. “It is time.”

“Time for what?” you huff, somewhat frustrated that he stopped so soon.

“Remember when I said to do as I say? It’s time to tie me up.” eyes still locked on his feet.

You’re shocked by his suggestion. “Tie you up? Is that a kink of yours or something?” you ask, staring at his cock that dangles freely between his thighs.

“’Tis not that.” he peers at you through his brows, restraint plastered on his face. “Ha... Ha” he pants, “I - I’m gonna lose it.” His cock twitches when the words come out of his mouth.  

 He crouches suddenly and searches his bag in a hurry. He hands you a long rope. “Tie my hands behind my back, and then secure it to that root over there.” He motions to a large root, jutting out of the soil, making a small arch way next to the lake.

You nod, understanding his request. You crouch and shuffle behind him, tying his wrists together with shaky hands. After tying the knot, you decide it would be a good idea to double knot it.

“Ssst!” he hisses, “Too tight.”

You loosen it slightly, “Sorry Lo’. Can’t have you getting loose, can we?” you grin, enjoying this a little too much.

“Hurry...” he moans.

His soft noises bring you back to reality. You lead him like a direhorse to the root jutting out by the lake and help him sit. “Are you sure you want me to tie you up like this?”  you ask, concerned for his comfort.

“Just do it.” He growls.

The depth of his voice frightens you, making you obey his order. You tie him tightly to the root and kneel before him.

“Just do as I say...” he gazes up at you. “...and I won’t end up hurting you.”

You can see how badly he’s trying to restrain himself from completely slipping under his trance. “Okay, my mate.”

“Good girl. Now lay in front of me, and spread your legs.” he commands.

You raise an eyebrow and widen your eyes; the way he says these words makes your heart skip a beat. You shyly obey him. You lie flat on the ground in front of him, and open your legs, exposing yourself to him.

You lift your head and see that he too has his legs open, his hung cock freely brushing against his thigh, and his hands tied behind his back. His head is tilted downwards, allowing a few of his braids to hang in front of his eyes, which are staring immensely at the sight before him.

Oh, Great Mother. You think, as you witness his cock grow, getting harder and harder, leaving his thigh, and laying against his stomach.

Shit. He realizes that you can see him get excited just from looking.

You both stare at the erotic sight in front of you.  

“Don’t stare... Lo’” you close your legs a little, feeling timid.

“’tis more beautiful than I’ve been imagining” he murmurs, mesmerized.

You blush, opening your legs even wider than before, exposing your dripping slit. Knowing that you’ve been the one he pictures while spending his time here on this island alone makes you feel overly confident.

“That’s my girl.” He praises, “Now, put your finger inside of you, just like I did”.

You insert your finger inside of you and pump it in and out. It doesn’t really feel all too great, no where near like it did when Lo’ak did it. He could see that you weren’t really enjoying it.

“Is it hurting?” he watches you, his stiff cock aching.

“It doesn’t feel the same. Can’t you do it?” you huff, shifting your hips to the side.

“Calm. You must be stretched. I will please you soon” He growls, “have you really never pleasured yourself before?”.

“Not really…” you whine quietly, feeling flustered.

“Bend your finger upwards” his eyes fall directly on your slit, you hook your finger up, and jolt from the pressure in your bladder.

“That’s it, pretty. Feel that spongey part?” he asks, raising his brows.

“Ngh.. yes.” You squeal, feeling the same strange sensation build in your chest.

“Tell me how it feels” Lo’ak pants, heavy eyed.

“It feels... weird.” You moan softly.

“Now, move your finger and your hand at the same time.” He breathes, getting more excited by the second.

You move your hand up and down, massaging your sweet spot. The feeling in your chest starts burning, “Lo’ak!” you moan loudly, curling your toes inwards.

“Yes, that’s it. Moan my name until you cum.” He’s grinding into the air.

“Oh, Lo’ak... I don’t know, I don’t know...” you mumble, focusing on the sensation.

“Add in another finger when you feel ready.” He instructs huskily, intensely watching the erotic sight in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to break out of his constraints and help you – no, fuck you.

You thrust your finger inside of you, making circles into the spongey part of your heat, watching your mate stare at you longingly, nibbling on his bottom lip. There’s something about having Lo’ak watch you do this that turned you on even more.

As more and more slick starts flowing from you, you plunge another digit deep inside of you. Finally getting the hang of it, you start grinding into your hand, watching your mate buck his hips.

“Ugh! Lo’ak... It feels so – so weird!” the strange feeling is getting more and more intense; it feels like you’re about to burst. Knots form in in your lower stomach, and your chest feels like it’s on fire. “ngh... Lo’ak, what’s happening? I feel like I, I- ngh!”

“Say it.” He growls. He feels like he’s going to cum just from watching you go over the edge. He’s never been this excited before and being in rut just made it even more intense.

“I – I don’t know! I feel like I’m gonna explode...” you whimper, your walls clench around your fingers.

“You are going to cum. Say it.” He pants heavily. Strings of precum are dripping from the slit of his pulsating cockhead onto the ground, making a small pool of his slick.

Your moans pierce the air as you hump your fingers eagerly, chasing your first orgasm. “Ah! Hah! Ah... Oh! Oh, fuck!” the knots in your stomach pop, and the fiery sensation in your chest runs down your spine and out your slit.

“Say it!” he demands, head tilted back slightly, looking down at you.

“I’m cumming, Lo’ak!” you cry loudly, listening to your hand slap against your skin.

“Let it out. Cum for me.” He commands. His cock is moving from throbbing so badly. You force your fingers out of you as your body convulses, and your cunt pulsates uncontrollably. With shaky legs, you dip your head back in ecstasy, gasping for air.

“Shit, y/n.” seeing you cum like this sends him into a fit, bucking his hips into the air, his cock dying for friction.

“That was... amazing. I’ve never felt that way before, I –” you down at your mate, to see that he’s completely wet, covered in your juices. You look at him, dumbfounded, to see that he’s in complete and utter bliss. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that I could do that” your face turns purple.

“Come here. I want to taste you.” He says between breaths.

Wide eyed you stare at him, he’s still slightly rutting into nothing, his cock, twitching for attention. You creep towards him, kneeling in between his legs with your tail curled around resting on your thigh. 

“Put your fingers in my mouth.” He demands. 

You take your wet fingers and slide them slowly into his mouth. He sucks, and swallows. He pulls back “it’s… sweet.” He looks up at you with siren eyes, “I want you to come in my mouth”.

The lewd words coming out of his mouth made your heart sink and your tail sway, accidentally brushing against his cock. 

He whimpers at the slight touch of your soft tail, caressing his bulging head. 

“Turn around and bend over, now.” he becomes more demanding as his slips further into the fog.

You turn your back to him, and bend over.

“Good girl. Now, back up and put your sweet, sweet pussy in my mouth.”

Much like you’re in a trance yourself, you follow his orders like a good little girl, slowly creeping back until you feel his warm, wet tongue press against your cunt. Your face gets hot as your now staring down at his raging cock, which is begging for attention.

He laps up your juices greedily, parting your lips with his tongue. It was like he was kissing your pussy, sucking on your clit and gulping the juices that flow out of you. You look underneath you and see that slick is dripping down his chin, onto his neck, as he eats hungrily.

The feeling is like no other. The bean at the top of your slit heats up, as he rubs it side to side with the flat of his tongue. Suddenly, it’s like his body knows what to do once slipping into the thick of his rut. It feels too good. It feels like when you first came, but this feeling is rawer and more sensitive.

You find yourself whining in circles on his tongue, chasing yet another orgasm, holding onto his knees tightly. Now at the height of his rut, he bucks his hips instinctively, unintentionally brushing against your cheek. He lets out a guttural moan, his cock finally thrusting against something other than air.  

Feeling sorry for his swollen cock, you take it into your warm mouth, and caress the underside of his head with your tongue. Surprised by the pleasure, he thrusts harshly, pushing his cock even deeper inside of your mouth. You let muffled moans vibrate through your nose, as you will yourself to take as much of him as you can into your throat. Lo’ak lets out a loud groan, already nearing his peak.

“Mmmh! Mmnhh!” he whimpers as you take in even more of his shaft, your eyes fill with tears.

He picks up speed, moving his head side to side in hopes of sending you over the edge before he does. You can’t even form a coherent thought, you’re too focused on making him cum first to pay attention to the burning sensation building in your pelvis. Instead, you bobble your head up and down his length, sucking as much as you can.

“Ugh! Mmmnnh!” he groans into your cunt. Just as you feel like you’re winning, he forcefully shoves his cock to the back of your throat. You can feel it pulsate, spurting warm, thick cum down your throat. You stop moving, allowing your mate to empty his seed down your throat.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck” he moans, pulling away from your dripping pussy, his head dipping back in exhilaration.

You swallow loudly, gulping down his huge load. You sit up and wipe your mouth, looking at his cock between your legs, which is still throbbing and rock-hard. You glance back at him, and the look on his face you’re met with is priceless, it’s like looking at a frightened yerik. Not only is he shocked by your lewd behaviour, but he seems flustered from cumming first – in your mouth at that.

“I’ve been wanting to taste you, too” you reassure him, licking the salty taste off the corner of your mouth. His irises flicker between a dark and light green. “How many ruts did you say you spent here alone?” you ask, out of breath, trying to get off of him.

“This would’ve been my fourth” he pants, peering at you through his brows.

“Okay. One down, three more to go” you hum, turning around to face him.

With shaky legs, you try to mount your mate, feeling eager to fuck the sense back into him. A rush of blood stains his cheeks, his eyes following yours as you mount him.

“You should really take all three of your fingers before trying to take me” he suggests, breaking eye contact to glance at his raging, 13-inch cock, rubbing at your opening.

You scoff loudly, and try to squat down on his cock, taking him inside you. His cock slips against your hole and slides past your clit. “Ahh...!” You look down at his member, which is poking your belly button, and realizes he was right – It wouldn’t fit inside you this tight.

You dismount him and turn back around and bend over once more. You support yourself with one hand flush on the flora beneath you and swoop your other hand under your belly.

Your cunt’s plump lips are bulging out between your thighs, with slick dripping down your slit onto his cock, mixing with his. Rubbing the bean-like bump at the top of your slit, you arch your back, pushing your ass into the air.

“Fuck” he mumbles under his breath, “it’s even prettier at this angle”.

He wants nothing more than to slam his rock-hard cock deep inside of you, but no matter how hard his bucks his hips he only just brushes against your hole. It’s like torture. “y/n. Fuck yourself. All three fingers.” He demands of you, smothering you with his pheromones.

Under the influence of his strong scent, you obey his every word, sliding all three of your fingers into your slippery hole, hooking them upwards and fucking yourself. The huge stretch stings at first but subsides quickly when the familiar hot feeling in your chest returns full force. You find yourself digging even deeper to reach the sweet spot in your cunt, whining on your fingers in the process.

The electricity surging up and down your spine makes your tail quiver from side to side, wrapping tightly around Lo’ak’s throbbing cock. Your touch sends him over the edge, forcing him to buck his hips into it.

“That desperate?” you giggle between your moans, using your tail to grip him harder. You peek behind you to see that he’s fighting with the rope that ties his wrists tightly behind his back, trying to break free of his constraints. “You wanna fuck me, don’t you, pretty boy?” you tease, knowing he can’t get loose.

“Fuck. Yes, y/n!” Hearing your filthy mouth tease him for the first time drives him into a frenzy, making him moan noisily as he thrusts through your tails grip like an animal. Just seeing him thrust his hips like that makes the strange feeling in your chest more intense, but hearing him moan your name makes you spiral.

“I’m gonna! Ugh! F-fuck, Lo’ak! I’m about to cum!” you release silent screams as you finally reach your peak.

“Oh fuck. Me too *thrust* me too! *thrust* Ughh!” he growls, pushing his cock as far as it can possibly go.

Your legs tremble beneath you as you push your fingers out of you, using them to rub your swollen clit, while you gush your sweet nectar on your mate’s cock. He holds his position, letting out guttural groans as he finally spurts thick, sticky ropes of cum in the air.

Exhaustion washes over the both of you as you gasp for air. Releasing him from your grip, you turn around and tower over your mate. “That’s number two.” You pant, trying your best to mount him yet again, with weak, shaky legs.

Read part I & III here:

Part I:

Part III:

Special Episode I:

[pursuitseternal]

Chapter 2: Jealousy, Lust, and Satsifaction in “A Night with the Ascendant:”

Ascendant Astarion x Spawn (Lumina) | E | 7.3 K of galas and smut

Summary: a tenday in his bed, a tenday bereft of his company in his absence, Lumina’s own plotting takes shape. With the perfect opportunity at hand, she tries to get under the Vampire Ascendant’s skin and steal his attention. Little does she know just how much she already has of it…

CW:(Spawn) harem dynamics, jealousy, manipulation, obsession, praise and dirty talk, A!Astarion being over the top possessive and sexy, possessive marking smut, suspicious drinks (magic, not noncon, I promise), “you’re special”

Previous ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

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Blessed and blissed out for a tenday, that was Lumina’s life of late. Days spent feeding on the fresh kills of venison and cow brought to her cell by his armored guards, days spent sleeping off the burning ache he caused each and every night. There was no part of her little body he hadn’t sought pleasure from, no hole left unfucked, even those too tight to let him in without ample coaxing and touch and praise.

There was no need for compelling, those dark tendrils of his powers all but mute in her mind. Oh, she was his—obedient and pliant and eager. And she had been rewarded every night for such a stellar performance. He only used that connection as her master to summon her from her room. And each time, that Tiefling consort glared holes in the back of her head as she swayed her hips up the stairs.

Morana… she hadn’t been vicious. But she certainly wasn’t nice. She had seen this pattern a hundred times, some with Spawn that had since met their end. The obsession, the allure, the unbreakable infatuation from the newly born until he tired of them.

Tired of them all.

It was only a matter of time, she had mocked today… and then he would tire of those flexible and firm legs of her, of her human flesh and bright hair. He would tire of lending her books as payment for her unimaginative pleasure, the first consort had sneered.

But Lumina let it roll off her shoulders, washing it away in the baths she took each day now. A luxury and necessity to finally clean off all the dried stick of his cum from almost every crack and crevice of her body. He had sent her oils and soaps that smelled of him… it was addictive. Enticing. Every day, she could smell him in her nose, his sweat and perfume, his cum and musk. Made her mouth water for the chance to let her prove her ever growing affections for him.

Affections… she knew better than to set her heart on anyone. Yet, she couldn’t fight that gnawing of her gut watching time pass, reading her books. It should be about now… any moment and his power should tingle up her spine, the wave of his call for her like breath down her neck…

But it never came. She dug her nails into her thigh, where her flesh slipped from beneath the high dart of a slit in her skirt.

No.

Instead, she heard another gate unlock, another door swing with a creak on its hinges. Bolting from her bed, she had to see who he had chosen in her stead. Through her gilded bars, she watched that swishing dark blue tail of Morana wave at her. A flash of dark crimson in her dark eyes, and the Tiefling threw her a wicked, victorious smirk before treading up those stone stairs.

“Gods dammit,” Lumina cursed, her undead skin flushing hot with jealousy and rage. She wailed that book toward her bed, loving the distraction of how it smacked into the wall before falling unceremoniously into her bed. Pinpricks stung her eyes, tongue dry in her mouth. She curled into the corner of her bed, knees hugged into her chest.

Making her feel so empty, in her body and her heart.

She stayed like that, tears burning as they seeped out hot and angry, her face hidden in her hands. Her nails clawing into her cheeks, her neck, her knees, wherever just so she could feel physical pain to lessen the ache of envy in her gut.

It wasn’t terribly long, she thought, before that telltale step of feet on the stairs meant someone returned. She couldn’t look, didn’t want to see a flush on Morana’s dark cheeks or smell his spend on her skin. But there she was, stopped in front of her cell, her skirt parted around that slit to barely show the inside of her thigh.

His scent caught her nose, and she wanted to hurl. Even as her stomach gnawed empty. She carried his scent.

“Hmmm, little Lumina, you poor thing. You’ll learn,” Morana tutted her tongue, swaying on her legs enough to let the slick sound between them reach her ears. “He sends his warmest regards, however, but he will be away for a tenday now… And he wanted me to begin overseeing the preparation for his return, when we will be joined by several of his.. guests. He will need his best consorts and concubines ready to… entertain them all.”

“I believe I understand full well,” Lumina replied with a flat tone, ignoring the visions of clawing her fingers around that infernal dark neck.

“Lord Astarion wanted me to give you a little something,” those dark red eyes gleamed, her bluish lips smirking to reveal her own set of fangs. She ran her fingers up her thigh, gathering still-wet slick from her dark blue skin. Holding them out, she crooked her other fingers at the little blonde wretch who had lost her heart.

It was too easy, watching that little human tremble and sniff as she could scent his cum on her fingertips. “Open, he said to give you one last taste of him before he had to leave. A shame he couldn’t bid you farewell himself, he said, but he wanted some of the vintage he has savored the longest before his journey, me of course.”

Lumina gritted her teeth, it smelled so good, he smelled so good. She wanted it, licking her lips as she came closer and closer. It happened so close, so involuntarily, the way she licked those fingers clean with one hard suck.

“Oh, I can start to see why he’s liked you for so many nights…” Morana’s deep voice sliced through her flittering fantasy. “You’ll be part of this soirée, but you’ll have such a small role, fucked over some table by some rich, plump Patriar while I entertain his Lordship from the comfort of his throne as he barely glances at you from across the room…”

Lumina hissed, fangs bared before she turned and skulked back to her bed.

Morana flashed a smile, heading back to her room to clean herself. But the second her back turned on the little welp, she scowled. She had managed to obey… in her own way around his compelling magic. She slipped off her gown, conjuring and warming water in her bath in an instant with her limited magic. Letting the heat thaw that bitter shard in her soul at what had happened.

It shouldn’t have ended this way, not with how it had begun just like old times. His pride on his face as he sipped his last glass of wine, waiting for his carriage to be readied. He had patted his lap, a seat she had so silkenly sidled up to take. Her hand teasing him through that crushed velvet of his breeches. Only to find him soft and unaroused. She pouted, tracing her fingers over its tip, her tail swishing before wrapping itself nicely around his strong leg.

She watched him bristle at its pressure, a chilled smirk on his lips as he spoke about his trip, his return.

His instructions were clear and concise, his expectations for his return were the usual… and then he kissed her. Biting into her neck as she always offered…. Only to have him suck her blood and spit it across the floor the next moment.

It was her mistake next that turned the tide, her little sultry quip about how he must have lost a taste for the spice of Tiefling, preferring that bland milk of a human he had been tasting so often of late…

Morana sank deeper into the water… She shouldn’t have provoked him, shouldn’t have opened her mouth for anything but his cock.

No, instead she had to be insolent and find herself on her knees between his own, working his half-softened dick as he had to close his eyes and clutch the arms of his chair. Every trick she knew and he loved failed. Every suck and stroke of her mouth, every tug and grab of his balls, every push of her finger even into his ass… none of it made him hard as long as he stared at her or grabbed her black and arching horns.

No, he had to shut his eyes and grit his teeth, refraining from touching her anywhere to make him fully erect. It took her standing before him, his eyes still closed, as they pleasured themselves for him to finally have the right… enticement, he had said.

It took the wet and beating sounds of their own touching for him to finally come, coating her mound and thighs in his seed. And only then did she think she heard him sigh that most hated name from his lips. Lumina.

Once he opened his eyes, his gaze glinted with unsatisfied hunger and scorn. Looking her up and down, he sneered to hear the carriage rumbling up the drive. His voice had been like ice, exacting and sharp, ordering her to take his precious seed and make his Little Light suck it from her fingers. So at the very least she could have one last taste of him before he left… since his carriage was ready and waiting.

Lord Astarion had ordered her back to the cellars with a brush of his mind, one last reminder that she should not fail him again, that Morana had other duties to perform, an evening’s work of entertainment to flawlessly execute if she wished to be spared his wrath.

Perhaps his wrath would be better than his neglect, his loss of affection. But Morana rolled her shoulders and sank into the waters up to her horns. She had nothing but time.

But then again, so did they all.

A tenday was nothing for an immortal, but for Lumina, having to wander around the palace to avoid that arrogant Tiefling, not to mention the others, time dragged at a glacial pace. She kept herself to the gardens and her room when they were allowed to wander the Palace at night in his absence, but what she really wanted was him.

She would creep to the door of his rooms, his study, just to smell him. It was enough to ground her until she reached for her last book from him, turning back to page one to begin reading it all over again. This night, she fell asleep with her nose pressed into the pages, dreaming she could smell him, her master, his skin under her touch, his taste of salt and bitter and musk on her tongue… if only she could awaken at his side again, feel his fingers part her thighs again…

But instead it was Morana’s deep laughter that peeled into her rooms from the hall. “Time to perform, Little Light. The Master arrives tonight, so you’d best prepare yourself for his guests.” Every word panged her with hope and despair in equal measure.

Her wardrobe swung open under her shaking hand, a few deep cut, extravagant gowns waiting to be chosen. Her pale fingers settled on one, thin and black, one that would make her skin glow like pearls and her hair the deep lively golden of straw. Touch dancing over the gossamer and silks, she smiled, a plan to make herself simply irresistible forming in her lust-drunk mind. He would regret leaving her, if it was the last thing he lived to regret.

Once the doors were opened, the handful of consorts left to wander up to the hall, Lumina gave one last smoothing of her raven black skirt. And she smiled. Dressed for seduction. Dressed for revenge.

She filed in line, following in Morana’s wake and the handful of the rest of the spawn. Drawing short of the Ballroom’s grand door, Morana held up her hand. “The Master will want us to mingle, to entertain and sparkle and delight. We may feed from any of the guests, so long as they ask. Do not overindulge, do not divulge any of the Master’s secrets or habits, do not fraternize with the guests, or you will be punished. And remember, he is watching. He is always watching.”

Lumina locked eyes with the Tiefling the moment she looked her way. All her adamantine hardness steeled her over. She was ready. Whatever was to come. It wouldn’t be worse than her life before, she knew that much. Even if it was just the internal pleasure she would get from making him watch her perform for someone else…. She would make him pay.

But the second the doors opened for them to slip inside… she lost her breath. He was… stunning. Crimson gaze cut through the crowd, half-lidded and scanning each one of his spawn as they stepped in on preternatural silent feet. He reclined in that grand chair at the end of the ballroom, the likes of which she had never seen, wrought iron and wine red, winged and imposing. But not enough to take the eye off its occupant. Not when he was dressed so elegantly in gold stitching and jewels in his own midnight black tunic and trousers. Not when his pale face leered with distant promises of pleasure on his sharp features, his eyes ringed with kohl and ears bejeweled with shining hoops of purest gold. Those long, elegant fingers that had ruined her for all others’ touch teased around the edge of his goblet, swirling it lazily as he separated his crossed legs.

Letting them spread wide, as wide as that massive chair.

The second his eyes moved from the spawn before her to rest on her face, she felt that swirling tendril of his power in her mind. A caress, a beckoning, but not one that compelled her to his presence. She was sure for a moment she felt his touch raking her body from the inside of her mind but for as sudden as it possessed her, it was just as fleeting and gone. Then his eyes moved on to the next spawn behind her, and those sweet tendrils of desire dissipated.

Lumina let her breath go, her lungs burned even though she didn’t need the air anymore. It was more the burning of her cheeks as his eyes left her face. The fire of her need to prove herself. It was a good start at the very least, she smiled, wide and brilliant enough for her fangs to catch the candelabra light. Shoulders back, hips sauntering, breasts on full display, she wasn’t surprised as the mass of slightly tipsy Patriars approached the circle of spawn. Nor was she surprised when many of them sought her hand to kiss in greeting.

From the corner of her eye, she watched Morana sway her way up the ballroom towards their Master, bending to her knees before him, tail twitching from the slit of her sparkling sapphire gown. She waited at his feet the perfect paragon of obedience, but his chest only rose and fell faster, and she was sure if she looked, his eyes would be on her. Not the Tiefling at his feet. She gave a hearty, musical laugh at some comment about how she glowed once they all learned her name. Her circle of suitors. She could practically hear the metal in his hand bending as he gripped his goblet tighter.

For her, she may as well have been in a nearly empty room. The rest of the spawn had dispersed, already sequestered into corners or window casements for their guests' pleasures or to feed. She smelled blood in the air. Perhaps at the worst, she could drink tonight right from a vein.

At least the music was merry, and Lumina could sway to its beat as she crossed to the table of refreshments. The chatter of all the male guests faded from her ear the moment she heard heavy, measured steps approach from behind her.

“You’ll find the red to be to your liking, Little Light…”

She chuckled, reaching for the silver decanter of the wine he mentioned. “Thank you my lord, for your suggestion…” Throwing an easy smile over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of just how close Astarion hovered behind her. Careful not to touch. Closer enough for his breath to wash down the deep v cut of her back. “You are always so… attentive… to my needs.”

He gave a little grunt of approval, taking the empty chalice from her cool hand. Filling it himself with the decanter, he raised it first to his lips. She held her breath, those wine-red eyes of his never leaving her face. Even as he swallowed loudly, she hid the little shudder that ran through her body and straight to her sex. “You had better ready yourself for the night to come… who knows whose blood you may consume or whose cock will end up buried inside you sweet slickness, my Light…” He handed her the half-drunk cup, scanning her every expression as she took it from his hands.

As she let her cool digits sweep tenderly over his in the process.

“If I’m lucky,” she flashed him that innocent and taunting smile in reply, “both will fill my belly before the night is through.” Head tilted, gaze lowered, she swept her skits to one side in a deferential curtsy, one that slid the slit of her skirt full up her thigh. Giving him a peak of the nothingness she wore beneath. Rising back before him, she met those half-lidded crimson eyes with a confident, impertinent smile. “I hope you enjoyed your journeys, my lord. It was ever so… uneventful without you. Peaceful, even.”

Before she could raise that cup to take the slightest fraction of a sip, his hand reached to close around her throat. Leaning in, he was all fangs and hot breath and hissing voice as he rasped against her lips. “Do not forget your places my sweet, precious, Little Light. I am not here for your peace,” he snarled. A ravenous, claiming, biting kiss consumed her lips and made her twitch in surprise and pain before he released her with the smallest of shoves. “You, Lumina, are here for my pleasure. And tonight, I get to decide just what that may entail and with whom you may seek it.”

And just as swiftly as he had appeared behind her, he quickly turned and made his way back through the crowds. Lost in the sea of bodies.

She stood trembling for a moment, lost herself somewhere between the victory of antagonizing him as he had her for a tenday, and the defeat of feeling his wrath. Of having him leave her body after barely touching her. Setting her cup back down on the table, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to take a drink without spilling it from how much her hand shook.

And then she felt a tug on her mind, an order from him to move to the library to meet her guest for the night.

Lumina grimaced, watching as all of the other spawn yet accounted for in the shadows began to move through the room, their patrons for pleasuring assigned too. Her head swam, even as she grit her teeth and locked her stare with Morana. That fucking Tiefling, standing at the side of his empty chair, tail twitching languorously, lips sipping from an even more elegant chalice than the one she had set aside.

Her feet moved of their own will, out the door and down the halls that brimmed with flickering light. Licking her lips, she set her heart on at least draining whatever plump patron was behind the thick oaken doors before her. She kept her gaze on her pale hands, steadying them as she turned to shut the door, her back to the interior of the room.

The scent of books, the crackle of fire in the grate, the distant whine of the music from the ballroom down the hall… it would be positively romantic, picturesque even, if only it wouldn’t be some unknown wealthy patron waiting behind her back. If only…

“Why the hesitation, my Little Light? Not in haste to please your Master?”

“M-Master?” Lumina spun on her heel, almost tangled in her slitted skirts to see him. Untroubled, lazy, and amused, he leaned against the rounded arm of the chaise longue. The perfect picture of the Sunwalking Regent—the scarlet of the chair was striking under the sable of his clothing, the firelight catching the jewels in his tunic, making his crimson eyes illuminated.

Licking his lips, she felt those tendrils tickle down her spine before releasing her. “Like I said… you were made for my pleasure, and you are mine to command, mine to decide with whom you will find your own pleasure.”

She had drawn so near, he grabbed into her skirts, inserting his fingers up her thigh already.

“And you will only be mine now…”

His touch was lightning itself, jolts of bliss wracking her as he slipped those two skilled fingers right for her sex.

Lumina bucked, but he only gave her a few shallow strokes before he pulled out. Swallowing her hiss, biting her lip, she couldn’t have felt more desired.

“Now, on your knees darling….” his voice rumbled as his hands pulled her down to the thick carpet, plush, elegant and bloodied in color. The same shade of his eyes as they glowed.

“Yes, my Master,” she breathed, obeying in an instant.

“Those eyes of yours glimmer with surprise, my Light,” he growled as he cupped her chin and dragged her closer until there was no space left between their bodies. “Didn’t think I would pick you, did you?”

“No,” she whispered, keeping her eyes on his belly, on the way the jewels sparkled with his every ragged breath.

“You are wise to be honest with me, little spawn. So I will be honest in return. I didn’t think so either,” he jerked her chin, making those eyes meet his, making her lips part in shock and a hint of pain. “It’s not what’s done on these nights, you know. It’s not how it has been for over a century…. But for you, Little Light, nothing is as it has been.” Eyes narrowed, his gaze flicked to her neck as he twisted her head in his grasp. “I am equally surprised.”

Lumina gave some half-hearted start to a reply, one he just swallowed with a kiss at any rate. Demanding, his kiss consumed her—all tongue down her throat to taste her in place of his fangs to devour her this time. “Trust me,” his voice like gravel in his mouth, “I was far from happy about it. You’ve really caused turmoil in my little kingdom. So much so, I’ve broken all my own rules just for you.” His brows furrowed, irritation coloring his voice. “I reject my oldest plaything for you, you unman me so much, I couldn’t even get hard in her presence before my departure…” He looked at her wide eyes, the memory obviously fresh yet in her mind. “I thought of you as I pleasured myself. I was angered by the hold you have on me, irritated that you have so much control over me, my Little Light. And yet…”

He ached. He burned. He pulled her dress right off her shoulders, the gossamer, light as spider silk, giving way with such ease. Snatching her hands, he slammed them on his chest, scratching them on the clasps of his ornate jacket. “Hurry,” he snarled into his kiss, giving that pouting bottom lip and bite just for good measure. “I know you have been burning up for me, Lumina, in my absence. I could feel it, my eager, ambitious, little spawn.”

A sigh passed her lips, her body betraying any lingering vestige of anger as it melted into him. Clasp by clasp, button by button she stripped him quickly and deliberately. While he made rough, tearing work of her dress, leaving it in shambles to puddle around her knees.

“Blazing for you, my Master,” she moaned into his kiss, his hands lifting her little frame by her waist. Nails dug into her flesh, making her clamber into his lap, making her legs wrap around his hips until her folds stretched and soaked him. It was a matter of moments for him to free his cock and bury it inside her again. A matter of bites and blood and scratching and bucking until she rode every vicious thrust he made into her.

She was a vision, the same he had kept in his mind all those days away. The firelight caught in the golden of her hair, her eyes glimmering as they fluttered open and shut in her own growing bliss. Her pale fresh stretched for him, so tight and wet instantly, her rounded hips bucking with smooth grace, her breasts swinging and swaying as she let him have her.

So soon, she unraveled, walls clutching him in waves, golden hair spilled back as she arched and twitched in orgasm on his thighs. Warm hands wrapped her hair around his fist, pulling her back hard enough to make her whimper. Fangs raked their icy points down her neck, the cold brush making her blistering orgasm flame somehow higher. “Please,” she moaned. “Please bite me…”

“Of course,” he nipped at her skin with smooth blunted edged teeth first. “You are mine after all, to do with as I wish.” Hard and colder than she remembered it, he sliced into her neck, the sound of skin giving way like the piercing of an apple’s flesh. She hissed and writhed, her own fangs bared as the pain swelled over her pleasure.

The moment his mouth flooded with her blood, he shoved himself to the hilt over and over again, letting his seed spill inside, letting her milk his every twitching spurt. Mouth filling even as he emptied himself.

Glorious. More than he had longed for in his absence.

He had stilled inside her, lips sucking and drinking down her blood. But that cock pulsed with each swallow, pushing at the end of her channel with how he just held her in his lap. The warm pad of his tongue swirled over those wounds, swipe and swipe licking her clean until it ceased to flow. “Such a good… delicious…” he licked again, “little spawn you are…”

Through her hazy vision, she smiled at him, the sight of her blood on his chin making her stomach gnaw and growl with her own hunger. A playful cock of his head, his crimson eyes scanned her in the flickering light, one hand pushing on her belly until it rumbled against his touch.

Until she could feel him pressed against her stomach from the inside and the outside. “I know you’re hungry, my pet,” he consoled her, that other set of skilled fingers teasing in her hair so softly, straying through the fluttering loose ends at her temple. “If only there was something I could offer you to… sate your hunger, Little Light…”

“Is there?” she squirmed on his lap, the slick between them still sticky with every movement.

A single brow arched, his expression one of inscrutability and lust. “There are many things I could offer you….” he purred. “I thought about it many a time when I was away.” His lips brushed her ear, his hands still lazily tracing over the pinpricked skin of her belly and teasing through her hair.

Lumina practically curled into his chest, the sweetest of simpers on lips. Glowing. She was glowing at him. Not a more aptly named being in all Faerûn, he decided right then and there. “You did?” she bubbled over, fangs showing in her smile.

“Mmm,” he hummed, another little shift inside her walls just for emphasis. “Many a time. And in all sorts of fantastic positions, the likes of which you have never known and will never try with another being… so long as you walk in this realm.” She would be blushing, he was sure, if she had any living blood in her right now. That would be… quite the sight. Her cheeks and lips and nipples and cunt rosy from blood and his constant stimulation. Astarion licked his lips just at the mere passing thought. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” his voice rumbled as he asked. “To be mine… forever?”

“Is that not already what you have made me, Master?” she purred her reply. “For I am so very grateful you did.” She turned her face to hide her bashful grin against her shoulder. An error he corrected with a sweep of his hand back around her chin. “Not many go from mortal to undying, from raw hands and rags to swollen lips and fine gowns.” Her eyes darted to the side, hiding the flicker of ghosts behind that bright gaze. “Not many know what makes being a… spawn… better than being someone’s slave.”

He paused, scanning her face—so earnest, so eager. It made something inside his heart… hurt again. Something that hadn’t for almost two centuries. Not since... He shook his head.

“No need for anything like that from the past now,” he flashed her that sultry smirk. “I ask you of your future, one where I might provide for your every hunger, one where I would expect you to do the same for me, my Light.” He shifted her on his thighs, a hand absently stroking into those golden locks. “That is what you want, isn’t it?” Mouth brushed hers, his lips teased over her own as he lowered his voice into a rasp. “I am what you want, aren’t I?”

“More than anything,” she sighed. A hand stroked against his cheek, trying to pull him into her kiss. “Being apart from you was torture, my master.”

“More torture than the kind you enjoy at my fingertips, little spawn?” he slipped his hand between her thighs, catching that hardened nub of hers where it strained.

Lumina sighed, leaning away to allow him a little more room, booking her hands behind his neck as she arched in pleasure. His smirk at her reaction was feral, wicked, and possessive. But just as he could feel her reawaken for more, he slipped his touch away, pushing her off his lap, off his slightly softened cock. “Allow me to offer you amends, then, for the torture you had to endure to be parted from my side, my darling.” He swept his arm to the side, the columns of bookcases darkened the edges of the room, embossed titles and oiled leather spines glimmered through the shadows. “My library is yours. Choose as many as you like, come when you wish…”

He stood with a grunt, managing to lace his breeches back up absentmindedly as he watched her face melt into one of awe and wonder and adoration for him.

Making something in his chest grow painfully hard.

Ignoring that sensation, he reached for the pewter chalice on the side table before crossing over to where she had begun to peruse his collection.

Her nostrils flared at the scent. “For me?” She took the chalice in her hands, the metal still warm from the fresh source of the contents within. “A little blood to keep me going for you, is that right, Master?”

“Let’s just say,” he smiled, lifting her face, the pads of his fingers beneath her chin, “a little something to sweeten the deal. A little something to seal your admission that you wish to be mine for all time, Lumina.”

She doesn’t think twice before she raises the cup to her lips, but the instant it coats her tongue, she knows something is… different. It’s rich in flavor, strange and familiar in her mouth all at once. “This is still warm, my Master?”

“Indeed,” he leaned against the mantle, lazily watching her every move. “Warm, freshly spilled, living, thinking blood,” he paused, reaching for her as if he could touch her at this distance, “only for you, my Little Light.”

Lumina dared another mouthful, its power already making her body shake. Making her feel more alive than ever before. It felt so very good. Too good perhaps. She didn’t even give a second thought to its source, to whatever poor guest maybe was bled or left to die for her meal. It was.. addictive the way it made her feel. It made her nerves tingle, her face flush hot. It made her hands warm, her sex hot and dripping and clenching as she locked eyes with him from across the room.

Her hands shook as she tried to set the chalice down on its stem. The cup toppled over with her clumsiness, but she had drained every drop of that sweet, powerful elixir.

“Not to your taste, my love?” he purred, his hips cocking as her body shook, as she took small steps closer. Her eyes were dilated wide, her skin flushed and alive. He could smell her arousal, hear her heart pumping slightly harder. “I was so hoping you would say it’s the best you’ve ever had, my darling.”

Her nostrils flared as she crept closer. That blood was in her veins, the magic already taking hold, he could see it. And it made him smile.

“It’s nice to see you indulge,” he said, pulling her naked form against him the moment she was within reach. “How do you feel? Your first thinking blood, hmm?”

“I… feel…” she whispered, leaning into his body, shivering as her skin brushed against his smooth chest.

She hesitated as she scanned his face. “Do you feel alive?” He smirked, rubbing his hand across her cheek and into her shining golden hair. “Do you feel strong… happy?”

“Yes,” she sighed, her eyes locked into his face. Looking for answers to unspoken questions. “But I feel so much more than that. I can’t… tell you what.”

He cradled her against him, hands running over her body with a bit of tenderness and a bit of command. “Shh shh,” he hushed in her ear. “Perhaps the blood I harvested for you was a little strong. You deserve the best, my Light, only the strongest, most potent, most powerful blood will do for my… mistress.”

That power coursed in her veins, every sense sharpened with its vigor. Looking into his face, she would see every twitch of his brows, every flicker of his eyes on her own countenance. “Your mistress?” she hesitated to let the words from her lips as if she feared they were a lie.

His lip twisted to one side, an amused smirk as she licked her lips clean still. “Oh yes,” he hummed, pulling her across the room. A single door slide opened as he approached, hidden amongst the heavy-laden shelves. The darkness swallowed them as she followed him inside. His scent was heavy in the air as he called flames to light the candlesticks within. The chamber within was elegant and luxurious, a smattering of bright colors and pastels, on the walls, the curtains, the bedspread.

He stopped at the bedside, hands at her lower back to pull her flush against him. “You will be here, my Light.” He nodded his back towards the open door, “One door to allow you into my cherished library at your smallest whim….” A flourish of his hand, and one glowing Mage Hand appeared across the room, opening another broad door on the opposite side. “And another door to my chambers…” his brows furrowed into that look of possessive hunger and seduction, his voice dripping that warm and velvety promise of pleasure. “Since you will be in my bed every night henceforth…” Astarion gripped her ass hard in his palms, letting his nails dig into her soft and supple flesh. “Or I in yours, if you’ll have me.”

Something in her full belly swirled at his words, his invitation didn’t feel like one of his commands… there was no pull of his magic, no tendrils tickling her will. It was a true offer, a genuine invitation to let him into her bed and between her thighs.

She stared into that sultry smirking face, the light dancing off his sharp features, his eyes extra piercing with those lines of kohl making them captivating, intense. She shivered under that stare. He clearly had this all planned, prepared well in advance, every detail ready for her approval and admiration. And she loved it.

She turned to pull herself against his body, his skin so hot against her belly, his scent so delicious and familiar as she took a deep breath. “I’m always willing to have you, my master,” she sighed, blushing with hot cheeks for once as she met his ravenous gaze. “I’ll have you right now again, and again if you wish.”

“There is nothing… I’d like more,” he sighed, his mouth descending sharply. His kiss is all power and passion, his body pushed up against her bare skin until she was nearly tumbling into her new bed. Hers. It was all hers. As he pushed her down, as he pulled his legs free from his trousers and sank himself inside her again beneath him, he finally felt a burst of heat in his chest.

He had thought of nothing the last tenday apart from having her again, from giving her a place at his side where she couldn’t stray too far. He wanted nothing more than his cock buried in her, her hair wrapped around his hand or beneath his face as he slept, he wanted her with him always now. No other concubine would do.

She had ruined him. And so, he plotted to reward her with all this… the thought was almost too much, his victory at making her his alone.

This little girl from the little shop, pulled from the gutter by his hand to be his saving Light. He would give her everything, and he would take her everything from her. An equal exchange.

Something about her simmered beneath the surface since he had first caught a glimpse of her in that rank old shop, the keeper’s only piece of chattel worth offering for his debts. His chest had been tight, his throat had burned to see her being used and neglected. He would do so much better for her.

And now, as she bucked to his every thrust, hands clasped around his beck and eyes fluttered shut as she came so flawless on his cock, he had finally given her the value of her true worth.

She was his Light, his diamond in the rough. And now she was his forever. That blood in her body was already working its magic. Her flesh was warm, her power increased ten fold, not that she would know it… Soon she would do so much more than feel warm to the touch, but she would figure that out in due time.

A few final, erratic snaps of his hips, and he filled her, pulse after pulse as he groaned. Eyes locked on her face, he watched her lips tremble to feel him come so hard just for her. Breathless, he kept himself up on his arms, a few lingering drags in her channel for extra pleasure. “Perfect. You are perfect every time,” he breathed, leaning down just enough to catch those pretty pink lips in a kiss. “And you’ll be perfect forever.”

Slowly he lowered himself to crusch her little body into the bed. “It’s all I could do to think of you. When I wasn’t meeting with boring nobles, I would dream of your sweet lips and your even sweeter cunt.”

“I thought of you too,” she admitted so quietly. “I would sneak to visit the halls to your rooms, just to catch your scent…”

“Tch,” he teased, a dark arch to his brow, “naughty for a spawn… but it was your well-deserved right at my mistress.”

“You’re serious about all this… my master?” she barely spoke, eyes darting around her new room, how fine it was, how impressive it was.

“Do you doubt my sincerity?” He looked at her exacting and yet somehow playful. Mischievous perhaps. “Doubt my devotion to you?”

She smiled, again that luminous grin that made his heart ache. “I did, yes, in your absence, my lord. Your other spawn…”

“You’ll never have to worry about them again,” he interjected. “Not one of them will harm you,” his mouth turned in a sadistic, threatening smirk. “And godsforbid one of them so much as insults you, my mistress. They will wish…”

She put her hand on his mouth. “No one needs to die or be punished because of me, my lo… lord.”

His brow arched, curious, as her hand left his lips, revealing his smirk. “Your…? It seems there was more you wished to say.” His fingers softly grabbed her chin to open those pouting lips of hers. “Don’t make me pry the word from your tongue…”

“My love,” she blushed as she said. “I… I love you,” she paused and held her breath.

The look of pure contentment on his face made him appear… youthful, innocent, as if he hadn’t just been threatening to kill a spawn for insult it threat. “Do you know happy that makes me? To hear my feelings returned?” his voice low, pressed in his throat.

“You.. love me too?”

“Of course I do,” he smiled wider. “Why else would I bring you as mine tonight, give you such powerful, living blood and gift you these rooms as my mistress?” Those long, skilled fingers teased through her golden hair, his thumb dancing across her cheek. Her skin warm and flushed and looking alive with that fresh and potent blood in her body.

She giggled, giddy beneath him. “It seems far too good for me, my love.” She let the name free from her lips this time. Those lips were too much a temptation for him not to devour again. “Nothing is too good for you now that you are mine alone, mine forever, my Little Light.”

His… The possessiveness made her purr, curled in his arms, warmed and cared for. For once in her life.

“You’ll let me show you my affection for you once more, won’t you?” he rasped into her ear, cock still hard and shoved deep within her.

A cheeky smile on her lip, she rolled him on his back. It was so easy… in the morning she would realize it had been too easy. But for now, she was drunk on the sight of him under her, his tousled hair and rakish smirk as she began to grind. “More than willing to have you show me, only this time, allow me… my love.”

When she finally stirred, every limb ached, her legs dried and sticky. Her arm reached beside her, the softest sheets cocooning her in luxury. Slowly, the night returned to her… the rigorous fucking, the new chambers, his mistress, his chosen… his love. Her nerves tingled as she stirred. Opening her eyes, these new rooms were bathed in light.

Light.

Not from candles or fireplaces or torches. Daylight. The kind she had been barred from, the dangerous burn you to nothing kind of light.

But now, warm beams cut through the air, the particles of dust dancing merrily in their shafts. She reached a hand into the closest beam. It warmed her skin, bathing her in light she thought she would never see again.

The moment of euphoria and hope darkened even as she sat up. Alone in her new rooms, she could hear movement from his chambers through their connecting door. Her heart sank and fluttered, her mind racing.

What had he done to her…

[olderthannetfic]

I recently joined a support group on my campus for survivors of CSA and almost immediately ran into the "your brain doesn't stop developing until you're 25" thing. Pointed out the study was debunked, posted links showing it was debunked, and was informed that no, it was totally legit. No we can't show you sources, it just is.

Also, apparently for neurodivergent people, our brains don't develop fully until we're 28. The source? Science. Studies. Which studies? What scientists? Science and studies now shut up, child.

And then the coup de grace, being told that science says that if you're traumatized as a child, it's like fucking up making a cake. There's no unfucking it up, no way to go back and redo the mix, the cake will be worse than the other cakes and you have to accept that. You will never be capable of being like other people. You were fundamentally altered and need to accept that. When I said no, I do not believe that, I believe I can live a life just like anyone else's, and in a lot of ways I already do, I was shot down and told I was invalidating others' beliefs and lived experiences and needed to look at 'the facts', which I think refers to the science nobody can cite me.

It's not just ace discourse that leaks off the internet into offline spaces. A lot of fandom olds like to talk as if this stuff doesn't exist offline and isn't doing any harm, but it's out there, and being told that you're just a kid and you're fundamentally broken? That really fucked up one of the people present, to the point he shut down and spent most of the meeting silently crying and staring into the middle distance listlessly, looking significantly more miserable than before he'd arrived.

"Go touch grass then lol" bro THIS is what happens when people try to reach out and do that! This is the realistic, grounded world you think is so different from the internet! The grass is laced with the same toxic pollen as the inside and your solution is for people to roll around in it?!

--

Oh good lord! Sounds like their commitment to science isn't exactly... uh... strong.

[aropride]

how to install dashboard unfucker (for desktop)

hi i use desktop and i use the dashboard unfucker extension by dragongirlsnout and you should too because it's awesome. i don't know much about computers so it was intimidating to set up but ended up being really easy.

but first:

what is dashboard unfucker?

dashboard unfucker is an extention that makes being on tumblr bearable again.

(ID: 2 screenshots of tumblr with urls/posts etc censored. the first is with the new layout, with labels on the left, the ad-free button, "check out these blogs," "explore all of tumblr," the radar, and no easy way to access your own blog. the second is with the extension enabled, the left hand side of the screen is empty, posts are wider, navigation icons are back at the top right, and the only thing on the right-hand side of the dash is the dashbaord unfucker and limit checker and tag replacer from xkit. end ID)

i got it for layout changes like these- the first is cramped and ugly and i feel like i'm on twitter. the second is warm and comfy and i can make my posts wider (i dont like all the empty space). (limit checker, tag replacer, and post color were done on xkit and palettes respectively, not unfucker, btw)

with the dashboard unfucker you can:

hide the following/blog subs/for you etc tabs

get rid of the changes/staff picks/etc carousel

hide recommended blogs and tags

add profile pics back to posts

hide the radar

hide the explore page

hide tumblr shop

hide user badges

highlight bots in ur activity feed

show who follows u in the activity feed

make posts wider/slimmer and move the dash posts position to the left/right

revert messages design (and make the messages box bigger)

revert activity feed to the old design

display vote counts on polls

show poll results without clicking (no more skewing polls or "see results"!!)

disable tumblr domains

add polls to reblogs

disable "post without tags?"

show ns.fw posts

and other things that i probably missed copying this from the settings!!

so how do you do it? it seems scary but it's easy actually. take my hand

(note: i did this on firefox and tested it on chrome, i'm not familiar with other browsers, also use firefox if at all possible fuck chrome)

how to install dashboard unfucker

step 1: install either tampermonkey, tampermonkey beta, greasemonkey, or violentmonkey (if you don't already have it)

note: im using tampermonkey as an example because it's what i use

step 2a: go to firefox extensions/chrome web store/your browser's equivalent

step 2b: look up "tampermonkey" and click "add to firefox/chrome/whatever" and confirm

step 2c: you're done! yayyy

step 2: click this link. look under "installation" where it says "Click on unfucker.user.js to install or update". and click that

(ID: a screenshot of the tampermonkey install page, showing dashboard unfucker v5.7.8 installation information, the source code, and the install/cancel button. end ID)

(it should open in a new tab and look like this)

step 3: click install! (when i did this it didn't look like much happened and i got scared. dont get scared take my hand)

step 4: go to www.tumblr.com and to the right of the dash it'll have the dashboard unfucker label to the right!

(ID: the default dash again, but with the dashboard unfucker title at the top right of the right-hand side of the dash. end ID)

step 5: click the little gear icon and all the options will pop up! u can fuck around with em to ur heart's content. i recommend exporting after ur done and saving it somewhere in case u have to uninstall/reinstall to troubleshoot or smth

you're done! now u can see the results of polls without clicking them and other such things

(ID: a poll i have not voted on. it has 17 votes and 23h 56m remaining. the title is "poll :)" and the answers are "answer 1" "answer 2" and "see results". there are no percentage labels, but the amount each answer has is indicated by light blue bars in each result, as they would be if i had voted. end ID) note: i'm not sure how/if this aspect of the extension is indicated for screenreaders

THIS POST IS TRANSGENDER BTW!

[shootybangbang]

The Upsides of Property Damage [Part 4/5]

Authored by @verai-marcel and @shootybangbang

[Ao3 link]

[Pairing]: Arthur Morgan/Reader

[Rating]: Mature

[Content Advisory]: light D/S undertones

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

[Author's Note]: Thank you guys so, so much for your patience, and so sorry for the delay! Most of chapter 5 has been completed and should be out soon. If you want to be notified when that comes out, go ahead and leave a comment down below and I'll make a taglist or something.

--------

The maintenance request form states: [Please give a brief description of the problem.]

for the past few days i've been so fixated on fucking the maintenance man that i've been having difficulty accomplishing basic tasks because every time i try to concentrate on anything even remotely meaningful all i can think about is him saying "maybe you just enjoy my company" and if this keeps up i'm fairly certain that i'm going to actually get fired from my job so clearly i need to either get laid or get evicted

This statement makes you look certifiably insane. It’s not even a request– it’s a confession . Sending this would be tantamount to seating yourself beside the grated window of a church booth and asking its captive priest whether he’d prefer you spit or swallow.

More importantly, it also exceeds the text box’s 250 character limit. You rapidly tap the delete key until the entire obscene paragraph disappears. Then you try again. 

broken cabinet.

Hmm. Lacks an element of genuine contrition.

broken cabinet. sorry. :’(

[Your service request has been logged. Please allow up to one standard business day for a response.]

You glance at the time displayed on the microwave’s grease-spattered screen. 4:36PM. Morgan’s probably already packed up for the day– and taking normal operating hours into account, the earliest he could possibly show up tomorrow would be 9AM… which gives you at least sixteen hours to emotionally prepare yourself to confront him.

Morosely, you drag yourself out of your kitchen chair to pour yourself a glass of sparkling water. So this is what I’ve sunk to . Using service requests as a means of personal summons for the hot repairman. Pathetic. Shameful. And 100% necessary for the preservation of your sanity.

How many times have you pictured it now? Morgan, cornering you against the wall and wrapping his hand around your jaw… Or maybe , he’d rumble, caressing your lower lip with his thumb. You just enjoy my company . Then he’d fuck you silly, of course, in a series of lurid positions that grow increasingly obscene with each imagining.

And how many times have you pictured its inverse? Morgan, backing away in response to your hypothetical advance, his face contorted with faint disgust as he asks, “You know I was just joking, right?” Following which you’d get written up for sexual harassment by the leasing office and put on… housing probation, or something.

Being humiliated, you can handle. Albeit not very well— but you’re usually able to stay at least semi-functional. The same goes for flirtation. It’s this hopeless vacillation between the two possibilities that drives you out of your mind. Schrodinger’s boner: simultaneously fucked and unfucked. And like that quantum superposition, you’ve been plunged into a private hell of uncertainty until your reality can settle definitively on one or the other.

This has been predictably bad for your job performance. Earlier today, you’d accidentally deleted two entire spreadsheets of data whilst lost in competing visions of fornication and abject rejection, and then constructed a pivot table so incomprehensible that one of your colleagues had personally reached out to ask whether you’d recently experienced head trauma. 

God. At this point, you really have no choice but to put the question to him directly. Plain and simple. Just a quick “are you hitting on me” and it’ll all be–

Your thoughts are interrupted by an urgent knock at the door. 

Huh. Looks like Defying Your Blue Collar Dom is getting delivered a day early? It’s unusual for Amazon to leave packages at your doorstep instead of in the lobby, but it does happen, so…

…Oh.

It’s Morgan. What the fuck.

“But you were supposed to come tomorrow ,” you blurt, eyes wide with panic.

“That so?” Morgan asks, one eyebrow raised. He glances sidelong to the empty hallway, and shifts his weight uneasily from one leg to the other. With a shrug, he squares up his shoulders and turns back towards the stairwell. “Later, then.”

Shit. This is all going wrong. “No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just that I– I, uh…I’m… ”

He allows your stammer to run its course into awkward silence. Then the corner of his mouth angles upwards in a sly smile and he asks, “Or d’you need a minute to put away anything else your ‘friend’ mighta left out? I can wait.”

Somewhere in the realm of missed quips, there probably exists a clever response to this. Somewhere that is decidedly not here. “No,” you reply in a small, pained voice. “She, uh– she hasn’t been around, so… y’know…”

The sentence unspools like loose yarn. Jesus Christ, this is stupid.

“You alright?” Morgan asks, frowning down at you from where he stands. “You ain’t normally this incoherent.”

His comment implies that you’ve been operating thus far on an existing, baseline level of incoherence. Biting back the urge to query exactly what that looks like, you reply with a clipped, terse, “I’m fine.”

As you lead him towards your kitchen, you nearly trip over the half-packed suitcase parked beside the door. At this, Morgan again voices his concern. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you this on edge before. Something botherin’ you?”

Yes , you think to yourself. My libido.

“Or is it some one that’s botherin’ you?”

He says the words with such a darkly implicative undertone that you actually turn around to stare at him, disarmed by the sudden shift. The warmth in his eyes has gone out like a blown candle. “Is it one of the other maintenance men?” he asks, and the whisper of lethality in his countenance surfaces so quickly that it speaks to a kind of practiced efficiency. 

A mingled thrill of fear and intrigue runs up your spine, and you swallow hard.

“If one of ‘em’s harassin’ you— if anyone’s harassin’ you…” he says these words with slow deliberation, while curling his free hand into a fist, thumb tucked over his folded fingers in that characteristic manner of boxers and street brawlers alike, and god if he were anyone else you’d likely be shrinking against the wall in terror right now. “Then you come tell me. And I’ll handle it.”

You have a sneaking suspicion that his method of conflict resolution involves grievous bodily injury. “Nobody’s bothering me,” you reply. Then, because he still looks vaguely homicidal, you follow up quickly with, “Just had an off day.”

This placates him somewhat. The tension diminishes like a rope going slack, and you realize with a hot pang of humiliation that your underwear is slick with arousal.

It’s not until he’s crouched in front of your broken cabinet, which stands ajar with its wooden door peaked at a 45 degree angle, that you finally work up the nerve to confront him. “So. Morgan.” You lean against the edge of your kitchen countertop like the faux marble might offer you emotional support. “There’s, uh. Something I’ve been wanting to ask you.”

He’s sorting through his tool kit and doesn’t lift his head. Picks through an array of silver chiseled pieces so deftly that you can’t help but wonder what else those hands might be clever at. “Yeah?’ he asks, selecting a screwdriver head. He slips it into the drill chuck, twisting it tight.

“Are you, um…”

Fuck. You can’t say it. Your mouth literally refuses to shape itself to the words. Instead, you hear yourself ask, “Are you thirsty? You want some seltzer?”

Morgan blinks, then turns to you looking predictably baffled. “That’s… what you’ve been wantin’ to ask me? Whether or not I’m thirsty?”

“Yes,” you reply weakly.

For once, it’s him who’s been caught off guard. “I– uh. Sure, I guess.”

He takes his drill and begins to remove the damaged hinge. Taking the door leaf and flipping it this way and that, he examines the damage.

The crack of aluminum when you pull back the can’s metal tab and the responding fizz of compressed air sounds a little like a rebuke. Scathingly, it hisses: what the hell are you doing?

I have no idea , you admit, pouring the can of sparkling water into a clean glass. You pass it over to Morgan after he presses the trigger on the drill twice and sets it on the countertop. He gulps down an absent mouthful, then immediately stands up to spit it in your sink.

Oh. He hates it.

Your voice is thin as a reed. “I guess you’re not a fan of sparkling grapefruit, huh?”

“It’s…” With the duty-bound reluctance of a dog given a loathed order, he takes another, tentative sip, and forces himself to swallow. “It’s fine.”

It is clearly not fine. “Do you, uh. Do you want a beer?”

“What, you encouragin’ me to drink on the job?”

You open the fridge. Good god, you might as well partake too. It’s not like you’re in any state to get any work done, stuck as you are in this miserable limbo . “In any case, I’m gonna have one. And I’m still on the clock.”

“Alright.” He sounds like he’s smiling. “So long as you’re complicit, why not?”

You end up downing half a bottle of 8% oatmeal stout in about three sips, then stand around blankly waiting for the roil of anxiety to abate. You’d attempt the precarious endeavor of small talk were it not for the fact that the only thing you can think of right now is “grapefruit”. Not the concept of grapefruit. Just the word “grapefruit”. This must be how computers feel when they spit out the same, continuous error message.

Mercifully, he intervenes. “You goin’ on vacation somewhere? Saw that suitcase by your door.”

“Catsitting,” you say.

“’…s’cuse me?”

“Catsitting. Like… babysitting. But for a cat,” you explain. “My friend’s going to Vegas the day after tomorrow, and her cat has anxiety.”

“Cats can get anxiety?”

“This cat takes cat Xanax . His name is Sebastian, and he’s the most neurotic animal I’ve ever met.” 

Morgan asks, “Yourself included?”

You make a noise that bears no resemblance to any word in the English language.

He chuckles. “Well, go on, tell me how neurotic he is.”

Thank fucking christ, the alcohol is finally beginning to course its way through your blood. Your tongue loosens enough to tell him how poor Sebastian had spent nearly an entire day curled up under your friend’s bed the first time you’d tried to take care of him, how you’d ended up driving to the grocery on a Sunday morning to scour the shelves for the most pungent can of sardines they had in stock, and how only then , with the room saturated in fish fumes, had the cat finally dragged itself out of the boxspring to nose curiously at your offering.

Morgan laughs. A good sign, you think. “That’s nothin’,” he says, and describes to you his boss’ cat: a purebred white Persian appropriately dubbed “The Count”, so thoroughly spoiled that she won’t eat the same meal twice in a row.

You snort at the image of a prissy little fluff ball turning her nose at a gourmet cat meal.

“Though it’s funny, I never took you for a cat person,” he says.

“No?”

“Figured you’d prefer snails.”

“Look, snails… snails are…” This is a sentence you started with absolutely no knowledge of how it should end. “I like snails,” you say lamely.

“Oh yeah? Think I remember somethin’ else that you like.” He puts his hand around his jaw and pretends to look thoughtful. “What was that book called again? Somethin’ about… bein’ punished by blue collar doms?”

“I’m sure that my friend who left her book on blue collar doms here very much enjoys them, if that’s what you’re referencing.”

He merely chuckles indulgently as he continues to fix the cabinet. You watch his muscles flex under his shirt as he drills new holes into the wood and sets the new hinge in place. As he works the power tool with a soft grunt, you find yourself idly wondering if he’d make the same sound as he drills you —

“Y’know,” he comments, stepping back as he tests the alignment of the door. “I’m actually kind of impressed. This is the most work I’ve ever had to do for a single apartment, barring natural disasters.”

“Wow. Comparing a girl to a natural disaster. Are you this charming with all the tenants, Mr Morgan?”

“You gonna be jealous if I say ‘yes’?”

The alcohol makes you honest. “Extremely.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that.” He grabs the edge of the kitchen counter and hauls himself back to his feet. “If this is the amount of property damage you cause normally, then I’d hate to see you angry.”

He takes another step forward. You take a step back reflexively, but find yourself pressed against the wall. He leans his forearm against the drywall and he’s close enough now that you can smell sweat and machine oil. Your heart beats hard in your chest. 

For once you’re lost for words. No quip comes to mind, for your brain is emitting sparks. “I, uh– I’m not–”

“You’re not what, exactly?” 

“I don’t know,” you say weakly.

He raises his hand to your jaw, tips your chin up with two fingers. “The answer’s ‘no’, by the way,” he says quietly. “It’s just you.”

Morgan looks like he’s going to kiss you. The expression on his face is softer than you’ve ever seen it, all his gruffness melted away. You tentatively tug at the fabric of his jumpsuit and stand on your toes to–

But he puts his hand on your shoulder and pushes you back down. “Goddamn,” he says, frowning. “You’re really red.”

Huh. What.

“Listen, I ain’t one for takin’ advantage of drunks, even if they got themselves into this mess.” He picks you up as if you weigh nothing at all and sets you down on the couch. “Now, I’m goin’ to get you some water, and yer goin’ to sit here and sober up while I finish this cabinet. Alright?”

“I’m not even that drunk,” you protest loudly.

“Yer about the color of a fire hydrant right now.”

When you press the back of your hand to your cheeks and forehead, your skin feels feverish. Begrudgingly, you sink down into your couch cushions and cross your arms.

“Good girl,” he rumbles, patting your head affectionately.

***

You slouch on your friend’s comfy couch with Sebastian sitting regally in your lap as if you were his loyal subject.

“Hey Sebastian, I think I did something really stupid.”

Sebastian stretches and yawns. 

“I hit on the maintenance man.”

He meows. It sounds almost disapproving. Even the cat is judging you. 

“It gets worse.” You loll your chin downwards until it touches your chest. “I was sloppy drunk.”

Sebastian tilts his head at you and blinks.

“Okay, one bottle drunk.”

He sniffs haughtily.

“Right? Pathetic, I know.” You move to pick up Sebastian, but he begins to arch his back and you stop, leaning back against the cushions again. He relaxes and maintains his regal position.

“Well, maybe YouTube will keep my mind off him for the next two days…”

***

You return from your friend’s place, having used her cat and your friend’s YouTube Premium as your therapy sessions. You feel better about things now, and life should return to normal. Right?

The washer’s inner mechanism gives a promising rattle as it swallows your last six quarters. There’s a low rumble of moving parts, the click of something slotting into place— and then silence. The drum of the machine sits sedately in place. Your dirty clothes sit inside in a quiet, unsoaked heap.

“Son of a bitch,” you mutter under your breath. 

You try out a couple different methods: Turn the knobs to various settings without success. Jiggle the handle to try and unlock the washer door. Yell at the machine, call it a worthless piece of shit.

But where discourse fails, violence often prevails. It’s a lesson that has offered a decent measure of success in your dealings with vending machines, keurigs, and lawnmowers. So it’s not merely anger that guides you to kick the washer. No, this is… this is a strategic use of force.

The first kick yields no results. The second kick produces an interesting sputter. Perhaps , you reason, a more precise method is needed here . You raise your fist.

Before you can punch the machine, someone grabs you by the wrist.

“What the hell are you doin’?” Morgan asks, exasperated.

“Laundry,” you answer matter-of-factly.

“What part of laundry involves fightin’ inanimate objects?”

“The part where I get this piece of shit to finally work.” You attempt to give the washer a last parting shot out of pure anti-machine sentiment with your other hand.

Before you can continue to perform percussive maintenance, he grabs your other wrist too.

You tug on both your arms, but he is ridiculously solid; it’s like trying to break free of handcuffs.

Of course my mind goes there.

Looking up at him, he’s realizing at the same time as you of how suggestive this looks. His eyes widen a bit, and you take that as a look of surprise and embarrassment. Yet neither of you moves for a full minute.

“Well,” you say finally. “Are you gonna let me go? Or are you gonna make me submit?”

His eyes narrow for a moment before a smirk slowly grows on his face. “Sounds like that’s what you want.”

He pulls you away from the machine and instead pushes you up against the closest wall. You can feel the heat of his body through the thin linen of your sundress. He traps your wrists against the cold surface and presses his whole body against yours. 

“Mr Morgan—”

“It’s Arthur,” he interrupts. “Call me Arthur.”

You whisper his name, beckoning. His expression darkens ever so slightly as his desire for you manifests in a slight twitch of his lips, a crinkling of his brow.

Then he kisses you hard, his tongue lashing against yours before lightly nipping your bottom lip. When he pulls back, his lips are wet and his pupils are blown out with desire.

Letting go of your wrists, he reaches for the hem of your sundress and hikes it up, his calloused hands stroking upwards from your thighs to your hips. He shifts his knee between your legs and nudges them apart before grinding against you. You can feel how hard he is, how big he is, and you moan softly. Burying his head between your neck and shoulder, he begins to suck on the delicate skin there—

The door creaks open. Mrs. Smith, the septuagenarian from down the hall, walks into the doorway with a hamper of laundry in her arms, then pauses when she sees the two of you.

For a second, everyone stands tense and still as participants in a shootout.

“Well,” Mrs. Smith says mildly. She doesn’t look surprised or scandalized. If anything, she looks mildly entertained. “I can see you two are busy. I’ll come back in an hour or so—”

“No! It’s fine,” you say before laughing nervously. You yank your skirt back down. Arthur immediately releases you and begins intensely inspecting the washing machine. “I was actually just leaving. This, uh, this machine’s broken.”

Morgan’s face is red as he makes a noise of confirmation and nods.

“That certainly seemed a novel means of repair,” Mrs. Smith says. The smile on her face is benign, but knowing.

“Anyway!” You pick up your empty laundry basket. “I really must get back. I have a…that is, I… I think I left my oven on.”

You barrel out the door, nearly knocking Mrs. Smith over in your escape. You run down three flights of stairs and into your apartment, slamming the door shut. Marching to your couch, you put a pillow over your face and scream .

***

Watching her leave, Arthur stands in shock at first, then glances over at Mrs. Smith and turns himself towards one of the washing machines, examining it with great focus.

A soft chuckle reaches his ears and he turns his head to look at the old lady, steadily pulling out one piece of laundry at a time from another machine. Under the pretense of examining all the machines, he notes that she also slowly and methodically loads the dryer.

“You should just go after her,” she says quietly, throwing a pair of large pink underpants into the dryer. “She’s a nice one, that girl.”

Arthur can only mutter, “I got work to do.”

“Come now, we both know that’s a lie.”

He sighs. It’s bad enough that John is on his case, but now 705 is giving him grief. 

“Do you like her?”

He’s silent. He does not want to be having this conversation.

“Because a girl as pretty as her…”

“I know, I know,” Arthur grumbles. “I’m goin’.”

As he walks past her, Mrs. Smith grins knowingly.

[hatchetno1]

sage forest mental institution.

chapter 3. in which you magically get unfucked. word count: 2.4k note: changed Reader's name to Y/N. doesn't hit the same lol.

So there you were, in the midst of four men. One behind a metal door holding you in place, one about to lunge for your neck, another who was encouraging the second one, and a fourth one whom you knew would do nothing to stop it.

The whirring of a machine.

“Stop,” a voice commanded, and all five of you turned to look at its source.

There stood—no, floated a man? Boy? His age was ambiguous and he seemed to be an apparition, because no way in hell was normal matter floating in the air. You could also practically see the camera behind him. (Did he pop out of the camera?)

Your first thought was, why is a Link cosplayer hovering in the air, and your second was, why is Link bleeding from his eyes?

“I just got ahold of Slender,” he announced lazily. Who the fuck is this Slender they keep talking about? “He says to bring the girl back. Alive. Mm-kay, gonna fuck off now.” As quickly as he appeared, he disappeared.

Jeff damn near threw a tantrum, before deciding he “doesn’t give a shit what the big man wants”, but strangely this time, Masky and Brian restrained him.

“Ugh, I forgot you fucks are walking microphones for Slendy,” he complained, throwing his head back as he groaned. “Fine, fine, it’s almost as if I’m not supposed to kill people nowadays.” You were left in awe at the amount of sarcasm in his voice.

“Free Toby,” commanded Masky. “And then we wait for him to bring us back. I’ll keep this one away from EJ.” He turns to the aforementioned Jeff. “Jeff, follow Hoodie and free Toby.” Jeff is strangely obedient and follows Brian, whose alias is apparently Hoodie, off to free this Toby, but grumbles nonetheless.

The grumbling grew quieter as Jeff and Hoodie walked away, leaving you in awkward silence with your captors. You felt Masky’s scrutinizing glare on you, so you cleared your throat and turn awkwardly to EJ, who now has an unhappy expression on his face, most likely grumpy that he couldn’t eat your kidneys or whatever.

“…Who’s that Link cosplayer and why is he floating?” You asked, then realize it might be unwise to speak now. Fortunately, the situation was forgiving enough, and EJ answered you.

“That is BEN. He sort of lives in dataspace.” You dared not pry further for an answer.

You heard the disgusting shriek of rusty metal hinges turning somewhere not too far from your current location, and you cringed. You turned to your left, taking in the sight of a boy, presumably Toby, who was also in a nightgown. The brown-haired boy’s demeanor was strange, almost meek, but you knew he wasn’t. Someone with this group couldn’t possibly be meek. He sniffed and sneezed, and his shoulders jerked. Probably a tic disorder. For whatever reason, his left cheek was also bandaged, and you wondered what kind of wound lay there. From this distance, you heard Hoodie brief him on the situation, how “The Operator” needed you alive and whatever. Bro has two names? What is he, quirky?

Masky looked around and nodded. “Time to go,” he says, before grabbing a key from Jeff and unlocking EJ’s door.

You didn’t know what you expected, because EJ lunged at you, and you knew he was hungry. In a second, his strangely lanky body was lifted off you, as he roared and cried for your organs. You had no idea what to think of this, but you turned to Masky, who sighed as Toby—who seemed to be stronger than he looks— and Hoodie restrained him.

“Come on. Gotta take you to your new home now. Or torture chamber. Don’t know what Boss wants with you.”

You were so fucked.

So here you are now, being transported with nary a trace of care from these men, all in light blue hospital gowns that do nothing to flatter them. Well, with as much care as you’d expect, at least. They are, after all, a serial killer, a cannibal, and three others who seemed to be seasoned fighters. And you don’t think they fight for show.

You pretty much get hurled into the boot of a truck that appeared out of nowhere. And when you say that it appeared out of nowhere, it appeared out of nowhere. So not only were they a serial killer, a cannibal, and three others who seemed to be seasoned not-for-show fighters, there was also some supernatural force coming into play that was clearly on their side.

Just as you wonder how Ben will get in with you, Hoodie gets into the back with you, and a threat from Masky is uttered, something like, “We’ll hunt you down if you escape, and we’ll make you wish you never ran away.” You don’t doubt him. You hear doors slam close, rocking the whole vehicle left and right. The glass shard Jeff was previously holding is now transferred into Hoodie’s hand, and you can only presume that the first reason why is to prevent Jeff from slicing your throat. The second is that, obviously, they need to hold your life hostage. It is at this moment you realize that you’re stupid, Ben is an apparition, and probably doesn’t require transport.

Against your natural instincts, you try to relax in the boot of this truck, still relatively tensed up due to the situation. Beside you, Hoodie is staring at you wordlessly, no hint of sympathy in his eyes, nothing that would tell you he’d hesitate to hurt you in Jeff’s place. You remember Ben’s exact words—bring the girl back alive. There was nothing insinuating you absolutely had to be in one piece.

To avoid the awkwardness, though you’re pretty sure you’re the only one feeling it given that the other probably has zero regard for you as a person, you clear your throat and lie back against the floor of the trunk. Hoodie does not move an inch, the hand grasping the shard holding steady. You wonder how he’s not bleeding from holding it, then decide that none of this is your problem. Yet.

They could torture you for fun, or they could decide all of a sudden that you’re no fun and kill you off. You decide against sighing, afraid that if you even just twitched in the wrong direction they’d cut that appendage off. Honestly, you don’t even know why you consider sighing. You should be fearing for your life.

But that’s just the thing. To fear is to have something to lose, and right now your only concern is that they might torture you without letting you dying, or just torture you to death. You know that a quick and painless death with these guys would be a miracle, given their sadistic and cannibalistic nature. Otherwise, you know that even if you died, the only thing you’d technically be losing is your life. And you don’t value your own life. After all, after around two entire decades of abuse and domestic violence, you grew up just not having anything to value. In the unlikely circumstance that you did find something to like, they’d just take it away from you.

These in mind, you manage to relax even further, and think yourself along this train of thought till you fall asleep, the group’s threats forgotten.

“Damn. She really just fell asleep.”

“You wanna bet on who’ll be able to hit her hardest without waking her up?”

“Huh-hey. The Operator told us—“ a whistle, snapping of fingers, and a harsh ‘fuck’—“to keep her alive.”

“Toby, are you just afraid of being a woman beater? You’re way past that.”

“Please, dear, she’s only a child—”

Whack. Thud.

You jerk awake. Though their voices had been drifting in slowly, the last person’s words triggered you. You don’t realize your body has acted before your eyes open, and you’re now sitting up ramrod straight, glaring at murderers, hands ready to defend.

Your brain registers the five in hospital gowns, and you remember that you’re being kidnapped. You regret the sudden movement, so you curl up into a defensive position, mouth opening to beg for your life. You may be passively suicidal, but you still have some sense of self-preservation.

Jeff looks at you in disgust. “Boooooring,” he drawls, then bends down to your height, face just inches away from yours. “I feed boring people to my dog.” A gulp sends its way down your throat. You have no idea what to say to that, and the classic option of apologizing comes to your mind, but you choke it back down lest Jeff actually try to feed you to his dog.

“Uh,” is, once again, your intelligent response to a bunch of insane murderers who are currently staring you down.

Masky acts just as you see Jeff cringe at your response, picking you up and slinging you over his shoulder. You startle, but he holds you firm. “Do not,” he repeats, calm venom in his words, “attempt to run. You will not succeed.”

You try to defend your not-so-little full-body twitch, but you once again save your own ass by shutting the fuck up. You praise yourself for not making shitty decisions today.

Mask’s back blocks you from looking at what’s ahead, what they seem to walk towards with such purpose in their footsteps. Where the evergreen grass ends, raised wooden stairs appear, wide enough to fit two or three people on top of it. A patio?

Your guess is confirmed as the three steps lead to the floor of a patio, and from your peripheral vision you register what can only be described as a normal wooden patio, except it’s run-down and flora is beginning to take over the gaps between the planks. You feel Masky’s free arm reach out and push something, likely a door. Its hinges squeak in protest as the man holding you continues moving forward.

You note that no light floods out from the open doorway, but the men continue walking forward anyway. Just as you think this might be your final resting place, Masky speaks.

“We, Eyeless Jack, Jeffrey Woods, Brian Thomas, Tobias Rogers, Timothy Wright and hostage…”

“Y/N,” EJ offers.

“And hostage Y/N,” Masky continues, “Request access to your home, Master.”

You could’ve sworn you didn’t blink, but suddenly you’re standing on a brown patterned carpet in a well-lit hall. At least, you think it’s a hall. There’s no time to even process the names, the full names they practically handed you.

You feel a huge presence behind you. That is to say, in front of Masky. Though intangible, it towers over you, choking you, clogging your breath, vision and hearing. Static?

It buzzes and buzzes, and you think your head might explode, you swear your eyeballs pop out of their sockets and that your brains leak out of your nostrils, but in a split second, you find yourself sitting on the floor, your eyes and brain intact. You feel around your head and face to confirm that everything is in place.

Tilting your head upwards might have been the scariest thing you’ve gone through today.

Faceless.

Indents where eyes should be and a slight raise where a nose should be.

And a large maw of teeth, tongue and saliva.

You don’t know how you should be reacting. But you’re pulled back to your surroundings as three voices seem to respond to this presence, this faceless entity with a monstrous mouth.

A chorus of three. “Master.”

You don’t see them, but you know that three of these men are bowing, one knee to the ground to this creature. Something in its chest rumbles, and you hope it’s not an angry one.

The entity retracts its tongue, and its teeth disappear into nothing, into white, sewing themselves back together into, for lack of better description, leather-like fabric.

Welcome back.

You’re left disoriented for a bit at the intrusive thought. No, it wasn’t your usual internal monologue. The voice was deep, smooth, imposing. But you hadn’t seen the entity, the so-called master, open his mouth, nor even move the muscles where a normal person’s mouth would be.

Slowly, the entity’s head turned towards you, its eyeless gaze piercing you, mind and soul.

You are to follow my proxies. They will ensure your survival in this household.

You hear a faint voice, similar to that of this entity’s, in the back of your head. Masky grunts in acknowledgement, seemingly in rhythm with that background voice. You realize that this entity is probably projecting his voice onto both of you at once.

You are to be brought to my office once you have been shown to your room. There, I will deliver a set of instructions to you.

The entity disappears. Jeff and EJ walk ahead on either side of you and ascend the stairways on either side of what you can only call a mansion lobby.

You feel a tug on the fabric of your clothes, over your right shoulder. “Come.” The stuttering voice that reminded the group to keep you alive sounds beside your ear. “Don’t want the Operator to wait too long,” he says amongst a slew of vocal tics, whistling and swearing. You wanted the jerky speech to soothe you, leave you in denial that this boy was a gentle being, but you knew otherwise. Sooner or later, something really fucked up would rear its ugly head above Toby’s brown, curly-haired head.

Wordlessly, you rise. He leads you, pinching the fabric of your sleeve to lead you.

It all feels like a dream. A really bad dream. Like a distasteful prank that’s being pulled on me right now.

But no one in your life remains to pull even the most harmless of pranks on you.

chapter 4 is out.

[pixiel]

Dashboard Unfucker Alternative

With the death of Dashboard Unfucker I wanted to share the link to my alternative (I know Tumblr hates external links so I'm making a separate post to make sure this userstyle reaches as many people as possible) The post is pinned on my Tumblr & I'll include a link in a Reblog & Replies just in case to make sure people can find this post!

Thank you dragongirlsnout for all your work on Dashboard Unfucker it was amazing working towards the same goal of fixing this website with you! The fact that this site has treated its trans users like this is absolutely horrible. I know we affectionately call this website a Hellsite, but right now, it's honestly feeling less of a joke.

I will continue to update my Old Tumblr Dashboard Userstyle for the foreseeable future and if anyone has any issues with it my Messages and Replies are always open - I try to get back to people ASAP!

Right now, my Userstyle is compatible with Dashboard Unfucker and can be used in unison to keep access to the ability to change the Width and Content positioning that Dashboard Unfucker has, as well as other features. This compatibility might not last as Dashboard Unfucker slowly fades out... Dashboard Unfucker is now sadly dead, however, I am working on a bonus Userstyle to add content positioning/width - this is now in Alpha testing!

Check the replies for the Userstyle's tumblr post link!

[dragongirlsnout]

Dashboard Unfucker v3.3.0!

As I first discovered today from the massive surge of people reblogging my previous update posts, the shitty new layout is now universal despite widespread protest, since us existing users are now apparently backseat to a Tumblr's hypothetical endless stream of high-revenue new users who are allergic to using social media sites that don't look like every other site. Well, thankfully at least for the time being, reverting the update via userscript is still as easy as ever!

Version 3.3.0 even fixes the new server-side bug where avatars next to posts disappear, because apparently I spend more time reviewing my commits than a multimillion dollar social media platform.

Installation Guide:

A userscript extension is required to run the script. Currently, the only tested extensions are Tampermonkey and Violentmonkey, but you might have still have luck with a different extension if you already use it.

Once you have the userscript extension installed, simply click this link to open the install page. This also works for updating, but make sure the version listed near the top is up to date, since it only fetches the script from GitHub every so often.

And of course, it's all open-source! Contributions, bug reports, and general insights are all appreciated.

Common troubleshooting info under cut:

Script not working

I can't offer specific help without knowing exact details, but two common issues are caching (try clearing your browser cache) and conflicts with New XKit (the script works fine with XKit Rewritten, which I would recommend anyways). If neither of those solve it, you can open an issue on the repository with more details.

Content takes up the full width of the page

This is an XKit feature, Panorama.

[brightgreendandelions]

wow tumblr FUCK YOU!

they did another redesign. now i can't even fucking see who prev is. and the reblogger's pfp doesn't show up.

xkit had an option to repair the prev links, but now there's nowhere to click!

let's hope the dashboard unfucker dev can fix this. i think she knows some general trick to force this webbed site to downgrade itself.

upd: okay this is not as bad as i thought. prev only doesn't show up if prev is the original post. but i already miss the giant square pfps on my dash