#hypnosis (briefly)

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

Shun the Light Ch. 5 - Hunger

Slow Burn | Refuge | Decision | Mend |

Author's Notes: Some vampire POV! His name is Dante now.

I just realized Dante doesn't know what Matteo is. Gonna have some fun with that later.

Content Warnings: vampire whumpee, werewolf whumpee, burns, exhaustion, hypnosis, self sacrifcie, touch starvation, angst

----

That last drink, a proper drink straight from the vein, gives the vampire the strength to sit up and lean back against the wall.

The raw new skin on his chest is still pink and tender. Dante winces when he touches it. The agony of burning is still fresh in his memory.

Night has fallen. Dante wonders if he would be dead by now if this stranger hadn't, inexplicably, rescued him. Would the setting sun have ended his suffering, or only increased it? Over the years he has tested the limits of his immortality in small ways, but never with sunlight. He shudders at the thought of how many days it might have taken for his body to succumb.

"You should have killed me," he mumbles. "It would have been simpler."

"No...it wouldn't."

Dante startles. He wasn't expecting an answer from the crumpled figure. When he looks down he meets a pair of tired eyes, golden brown like honey.

Too much happened over the past day. It's more than Dante can process in his current state, and so he finds himself simply fixated on there being a living, breathing person here for the first time in decades.

Dante is so used to stillness in the large, empty house and his cold, undead body. The stranger, on the other hand, is so very alive - warm and restless, with labored breathing and a beating heart.

"Why did you come here?" Dante wonders quietly. "What do you want?"

Why did you save me? Don't you know what I am?

"A bed would be nice." The other man stretches, groaning when his joints pop and crack. "I'd settle for a couch. Anything." He looks worn down and absolutely miserable.

Dante wasn't expecting an answer. It's so casual, as if the situation they find themselves in together is completely normal. At a loss for what else to do or say, he simply nods.

I guess it's the least I can do.

Standing takes a moment but he manages. His visitor is less successful, getting halfway there before mumbling 'nope' and dropping to his knees.

Even after all these years of solitude certain instincts remain. Without a thought, Dante offers a hand to help him up.

It doesn't cross his mind that he hasn't touched a human being in almost fifty years - when he was still human himself.

A hand slips into his. Dante can feel the pulse thrumming beneath warm skin. His fangs throb with need. I wouldn't even kill him. Just another drink. It would be so easy...

The man must see the hunger in his gaze, and must know equally well that he wouldn't stand a chance. Conflicting emotions cross his face before resignation sets in.

Dante's eyes gleam silver in the dark.

"Stand up."

The man stands on command, shaking from the effort. Dante keeps hold of his hand to help him stay upright. The man closes his eyes and tips his head a little, baring his throat.

Suddenly all Dante can see is a sharpened stake held tight in a fist. He, too, had given in and presented himself like a lamb for slaughter, only to be 'spared' in the cruelest way.

"Look at me."

These words are spoken plainly, without mesmerism. Yet the man obeys it too, cautiously meeting the vampire's eyes.

"I won't hurt you," Dante promises. It's a promise he doesn't even know if he can keep, but the man seems to believe him.

Their hands are still locked. Now that the hunger has passed Dante is left with the old, new, strange, familiar sensation of human touch.

The man clears his throat and pulls his hand away. Dante feels colder than ever.

"Follow me." He turns and leads the way to the bedroom next door. His rescuer follows, leaning on the wall for support.

"I - I can sleep here?"

The man looks like he might cry when he sees the large, plush bed with its old but well-kept bedding. He staggers towards it but then hesitates to look back at Dante like he's afraid it might be a trick. He looks like he needs a good night's rest as desperately as Dante needs blood, and he can't think of many things more cruel than denying him that.

"Yes. Go ahead."

With a breathless "thank you", the man collapses heavily onto the bed. He doesn't even bother to get under the covers before he's out cold.

Dante stands there and just watches him for several minutes. He takes in every bit of him, every hair and freckle, every cut, bruise and scar. Each rise and fall of his back as he breathes is mesmerizing to the vampire, a steady rhythm that whispers alive, alive, alive.

And just for a moment he could swear his long dead heart is aching.

#vampire whump #werewolf whump #injury #healing burns #cuts #bruises #exhaustion #burns #hypnosis (briefly) #hunger #thirst #angst #whump writing #my writing #my ocs #dante #matteo #shun the light #self sacrifice #giving up

[atypicalantinomy]

𝑩𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒔? 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 ‘𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔’? 𝑴𝒚 𝒐𝒉 𝒎𝒚…

third installment in the playing around with hypmic artstyle series ft. rindo akune 🧤 We're getting close to the finishing line!

#rindo akune #hypmic #hypnosis mic #hypmic stage #hypstage #hypnosis microphone #rule the stage #d4 #desperado-004 #my drawings #i briefly posted it on twt so if you saw it there too #no you didnt #im gonna repost it tomorrow!!

[akkivee]

share a coke❤💜

#ichiro yamada #kuko harai #naughty busters #hypmic #hypnosis mic #the lighting kicked my ass this time around but i think i got it where i wanted it lmao #BUT HAPPY NB DUET RELEASE DAY #i found an illegal upload of the track in the dead of night and briefly listened to it to make sure it was the track #and it started out with otome's announcement that the party of words was taking over and had ichiro's little #'you need power to be able to do anything' monolouge #so i'm hopeful that's it!!!!!!!! i'm excited to listen to it when i'm done with everything else on my plate *wheezing* #the fan art i'm seeing makes me think it's of their first training session with the mics *excited vibrating* #vee is arting

[aj-is-typing-18]

Part 1 is up!

#hermitcraft #impulsesv #naga keralis #keralis #xisuma void #briefly mentioned #tw hypnosis #read your own risk!

[mesperyiandevotee]

Day 5: Sci-fi - experiment

America's government is doing an experiment to combat the communists and turn them and their sympathizers into what they see as more valuable members of society. America agrees to let them experiment on him, to help perfect their drug, hypnosis, and surgery techniques, since it's believed that his supernatural nation healing powers will heal him from it all eventually. After America gets pregnant, though, he finds that things won't be completely going back to normal.

#amecanweek2023 #how many times can i say it wasn't supposed to get this long before it gets old? #day 6 *will* likely get long #though bcoz i got brainworms for it after listening to hadestown on loop #same with day 7 #i've had this isekai idea i've been wanting to write for a while #cw mpreg #cw human experiments #cw homophobia #it's only mentioned briefly though #some of the first people brought to stepford were queer people #and the experiment (like the surgeries/hypnosis) aren't focused on at all

[kamil-a]

The film "Goncharov" exists in:

-Lewis Carrol's Wonderland*, as well as

-All other fantasy settings to use that as inspiration or adaptation

-Ohtori Academy

-The town of Twin Peaks

-All locations mentioned in Lemony Snicket's books**

-The town of Night Vale*

*The existing film "Gomorrah" does not exist in these locations, but it exists in that media's world outside of those places.

**When overlapping with real world locations, they exist there too, by virtue of Snicket having mentioned them. However, they were directed by Gustav Sebald.

#textie #goncharov #unreality #nonsenseposting etc. #thought briefly about including gravity falls but i dont think so. #in gravity falls its a fake movie thats being told to ppl is real with actual hypnosis magic

[silasours]

ৎ⸝⸝⠀SUCKIN' THEM OFF ! —

#pairing : lucifer, alastor, vox, valentino, gn reader. #cw : 18+ content, mdni. toys usage. edging. oral sex. masturbation. praise kink. sub/dom reader. anal play. sub lucifer because I love him. vox using his hypnosis on you for a short minute. ill check this in a few hours after some sleep. #summary : title says it all; in which you suck em off during different occasions. #note : been busier with uni lately, not gonna post that often for a couple weeks. male reader will be out soon as per a request I received, I started writing this before the ask came in

ʚ LUCIFER .

lucifer's thighs could practically be inked by your hand from how hard you're clawing onto him. he's seated on the edge of your bed while you're kneeling between his legs on the floor, his length enveloped nicely by the warmth of your mouth. you draw a groan from him by swirling your tongue around his cock, his fingers tangling with your hair further with a tug. he sucks in a shaky breath, face flushed as he tilts his head back.

you hum softly, hollowing your cheeks and moving your head ever so slowly. you feel the tip brush against the back of your throat, the sensation causing you to moan around him. lucifer shudders from the vibration, his groans gradually growing into soft moans and whimpers. hearing him being so vocal strikes a chord in your chest, tempting you to go further into pleasing him and watch him break under your hands.

with a grin, you you remove your mouth from him which earns a whine from him as he briefly opens his eyes to look at you. “why’d you stop..” lucifer breathes out heavily, his chest heaving as he speaks. you don’t reply, pushing two digits past your damp lips and into your mouth, coating them with saliva. the angel watches you with confusion as you push his leg up onto the bed with your free hand while remaining kneeled on the ground.

that confusion did not last long. he didn't get the chance to even speak before you plunged the two fingers into him, your saliva working as a lubricant. a sharp gasp tumbles from lucifer's lips from the sudden stretch, his upper body falling further onto the bed until his arm weakly catches himself. he watches as you thrust your fingers in and out of him, bringing your lips closer to his twitching cock, and placing a kiss on his leaking tip.

you take your time drawing noises out from lucifer with kitten licks and kisses before slowly taking him in your mouth once again, sinking down until you have him fully in your mouth. you use your other hand to keep his legs spread open, increasing the pace of your fingers while working your mouth on his cock. the pleasure that he receives is amazing, so much so that his body visibly trembles as his moans grow.

lucifer's arms give out, and his upper body plops onto the bed with a thud. his back arches off the plush bed while simultaneously pressing the back of his hand onto his mouth, feeling himself approach closer to unraveling, blabbering about how overstimulated he feels to you.

"cum f' me, pretty boy?" you mumble just loud enough for him to hear before taking him whole in your mouth again, your words triggering the coil in his stomach. you feel hot strings of thick liquid shoot down your throat, your ears filled with the sweet, loud noises of your partner. you carry on swiping your tongue around the base of his cock until he's done and remove your fingers from him.

you keep his release on your tongue while removing his cock from your mouth, climbing up from between his legs to hover yourself above him; you make it visible to him when you swallow to watch his face burn up instantly. shooting him a smile, it's obvious that you're not done with him just yet.

ʚ ALASTOR .

it's near impossible to focus yourself to work your mouth on alastor's cock, not when he's having his face buried in between your legs as you lay on him. having a long tongue compared to the others has always been a win for alastor, able to reach sensitive areas inside of you with his mere tongue and watch your body twitch. you blink away tears that found their way to gather around your eyes from pleasure, attempting to steady your breathing in order to properly work your mouth.

the moment you fully take him into your mouth, he sinks his teeth into your inner thigh and sucks on the skin until he leaves dark marks. his grasp on your legs is hard and so does yours on his. your nails dig deep into his flesh, moaning while moving your head, the heat and dampness of your mouth engulfing his length that throbs from the feeling.

"carry on with your task, my dear." alastor speaks when he notices that you stopped moving your head just to bite back moans. his grin grows when he hears your small mumble of curses under your breath before taking him in again; he almost instantly plunges two fingers into you once you do so. your body twitches from the sudden shot of pleasure, moaning as your hips involuntarily push back to have his digits enter deeper.

his groans grow, feeling the amount of vibration that is sent coursing through his body from you moaning around his cock. it's rare to even hear him being this vocal, and you want more of it. taking advantage of his fingers thrusting into you, you don't hold back any moans and whimpers that climb up from your throat. the radio demon would occasionally curl his fingers inside of you, causing a jerk at your hips every time.

alastor doesn't keep a steady pace, often slowing down and picking up the pace of his fingers at random times. his hips sometimes buckle further into your mouth, tilting his head back deeper into the pillow he lay on from pleasure.

his voice is shaky as he speaks, "close- fuck, so close." his clawed fingers could almost draw blood out of your skin from his tightened grip. you give his cock an exaggerated suck after hearing his words, knowing exactly how to snap the coil in his stomach faster. his breath is hot against your thighs. with a thrust of his hips, strings of hot liquid shoots down your throat as he curses.

you reduce the pace of your head, allowing him to ride out his orgasm while you gather every drop of his release, not wasting a single bit. once you feel that he calmed down, you pull away and swallow, tasting the slightly salty and bitter taste sitting on your tastebuds. as you attempt to pull the fingers that are nestled inside of you and turn around, alastor holds you in place firmly and roughly thrusts his fingers into you.

you cry from pleasure, your head dropping onto his thigh as you look at him through the space between your legs; his smugness is painfully visible.

"oh no. not so fast, darling."

ʚ VOX .

"doing so good for me, mm?" vox coaxes, his voice gentle compared to the grip he has on your hair. you whine at his words, the tip of his cock practically bruising that one spot at the back of your throat from the pace he's having you work on him. you lap your tongue around the base, closing your eyes in hopes of stopping your gag reflex from having him so deep down your throat.

light chattering and sometimes even yelling could be heard outside of his office. demons are constantly walking by the doors that lead to the wide room that both of you are in; you're aware of this, of course, considering how he called for you in the middle of a busy working hour plainly because he wants his cock in your mouth. needy vox in the middle of work has slowly become a normal occurrence for you now.

you shudder from the vibration of vibrators being strapped around your inner thigh, strapped so close to where your sensitive area is. vox requested for you to strap them onto yourself the moment you stepped into his office, two strings hanging off his finger while he pointed your way. your thighs rub together, the friction drawing a moan from you.

vox leans back against his office chair, head tilting back to rest against the headrest. your teary gaze shifts from his wrinkled, loose outfit to his gaze that has been focused on you from above. meeting your gaze, a grin stretches onto his lips as he allows a groan from him to return your small plea. feeling satisfied, you carry on sucking him off while your drool travels down from his inner thigh down to his leather chair.

you can feel that he's close from the way he tugs on your hair harder than before, your scalp burning so much that it feels numb. you whine both from the pain and his size in your mouth, your jaw growing sore after being stretched open for a period of time. noticing this, vox gives your hair a light tug as he closes his eyes. your gaze lands on his screen, watching as his eyes re-open to reveal a red and black spiral, hypnotizing you.

your body freezes for a short second before it continues to what you were doing before this, obediently allowing vox to unravel while remaining inside of your mouth. he knows you're aware of his actions, and that you absolutely love it when he does it. you pull away from him as the hypnosis fades, blinking while his cum stays on your tongue. vox lifts your face up by the chin with a finger, pushing his thumb past your lips to feel the thick liquid that sits there.

you swallow, the warmth traveling down your throat slowly. your tongue swirls around his thumb, parting your lips to show that the liquid is no longer in your mouth. the demon hums at the sight, a hand moving to pat his lap; a signal for you to sit.

"come up and sit here for me, will you?"

ʚ VALENTINO .

valentino's limo drives through street after street in town, the area bustling with demons all around. he promised vox and velvette a nice place for dinner, yet you're here pleasuring him by fucking his cock into your mouth as per his request. the shaky car makes it harder to do so compared to when you're in a room instead, the tip constantly hits your throat with no mercy.

the inside of the limo is dim after you requested for him to turn off his bright, flashy lights. valentino agreed to do so unwillingly since he preferred to have them stay on, claiming them as iconic. but he turned them off in the end, complying with your request so you'd feel more comfortable while having a heated session with him in the vehicle at the very least.

that's not all, though. you also have a dildo stretching your gummy walls open so nicely, the unsteady movements of the limo allowing it to stimulate the specific spot that's buried inside of you. your fingers grip his coat tightly, uncontrollable moans continuously spilling from your mouth, muffled by his cock filling your mouth to the brim. valentino lets out a chuckle, a hand from his lower pair of arms holding your head by your hair.

"we're almost at the restaurant, cariño. gonna finish yourself off along with me?" you nod weakly, hips moving to thrust the dildo in and out of yourself. a hand of yours snakes down to hold the toy in place, your mouth never removing itself from his cock. your eyes close shut while tears gather from pleasure, hand gradually switching to ram the toy into yourself with a quicker pace.

you clench around the dildo, the grith of it drawing an excessive amount of noise from you as you suck valentino off. he curses from the pleasure, legs quivering ever so slightly with a buckle of his hips. he lost track of where the limo has headed to until the vehicle came to a halt, his eyes turning to gaze outside the window. vox and velvette are both visible sitting by the restaurant window.

he mumbles for you to keep going; it doesn't seem like he's in a hurry at all. you do as he says, wanting to finish this as soon as possible despite his seemingly relaxed demeanor. you don't want to have any one of them call valentino and ask about his whereabouts, knowing how he'll straight up tell them that you're not done milking him in his limo.

he gives your hair a slight tug, taking a long drag from his cigarette before speaking as pink smoke escapes through his lips. "those two can wait, we're staying here until we're done."

© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.

#﹕a dream to nowhere. #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer #lucifer #lucifer smut #lucifer x reader #alastor smut #hazbin vox #vox x reader #vox smut #valentino x reader #hazbin valentino #valentino smut #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer morningstar #the vees #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel drabble

[d4rv1n]

Obedience to Pink.

In this induction I will condition your mind to obey Any and Every command given to you that's highlighted by Pink. Your Thoughts, actions.. even feelings.. They will all be effortlessly controlled by the mere color of text.. Read at your own risk.

Let us begin, shall we? A nice, simple breathing exercise..

Take a long, deep breath for me

Hold it in briefly..

And now let it all out..

Once again, Deep breath in..

Expand your lungs fully..

And a deep breath out..

And as you continue this nice, relaxing cycle you simply let yourself go.. let yourself relax..

as you Breathe in..

you concentrate concentrate all your stress and tension with the air in your lungs..

and we you Breathe out..

you let all this tension go..

Allowing yourself to sink into relaxation..

As you feel every part of your body slowly sink as well..

Every cell, every muscle, every fiber of your being..

with each and every breath you take, your body Sinks further and further..

Deeper and deeper..

into Trance..

Go ahead now and stare Deep into this spiral

Let it draw you in..

Both your body and mind be drawn in by its beauty..

Let yourself be completely mesmerized..

And feel your thoughts simply shut off..

as your body goes numb..

Feel mindless ecstasy wash over you..

and with every second you spend staring into the spiral, your mind shuts down more and more..

you lose control of your body..

It's impossible to move, not that you want to..

It feels So Good to be This Very Deep..

Feel how impossible it is to form a thought of your own..

As if your mind cannot function properly anymore..

Only reading my commands mindlessly..

Letting them control you..

and Obeying..

Here's another spiral for you..

Pretty, isn't it?

Let it remove all thoughts that are left in that silly brain of yours..

And every second you spend staring at it, it draws you So much deeper into relaxation..

So much deeper into Trance..

Let it spin in your brain..

Let it play on repeat..

Even when you're not looking at it..

Feel it be your one and only thought..

Seeing it spin so vividly..

Even while reading my commands..

The spiral has now Dominated your mind..

And in this wonderful, mindless bliss..

it's the only thing you care about..

And each and every second it spins your thoughts away..

is a second you fall Hundreds of times deeper...

Thousands of times deeper..

More mindless than you've ever been before..

More blank than you've ever thought was possible..

And yet, somehow..

Sinking even deeper..

Deeper and Deeper..

Deeper and Deeper..

Deeper.. and.. Deeper..

And now I will count down from three..

And when I reach the number one you'll be in a state of Complete and Absolute trance..

Are you ready?

One..

and you feel your mind shut down more than it has ever..

Two..

And you feel your body go completely Numb and motionless..

and finally..

Three.

Complete.. and absolute..

Trance...

And with the spiral still spinning in your head, take a moment to fully enjoy the relaxation you're feeling right now..

Every muscle, every cell.. Each part of your body and mind..

Completely Off. Shut down.

Enjoy how good it feels to be guided by my words..

Not having to think..

Simply obeying..

Feels good to obey, doesn't it?

Feels so good to submit your mind to me..

Feels so good under my hypnosis..

Under my Absolute Control..

But soon, when I wake you up, I won't be the only thing with such a tight grip on your mind..

Because from now on, everything said in Pink Letters Will control your body and mind just as I control you right now..

From now on, Every command given to you..

Everything you're told to do..

Everything you're told to think..

Everything you're told to feel..

You Will Obey It All

As long as the text is Pink..

There will be no resistance to it..

No matter how hard you try..

You will never have the chance to want against it..

You will never have a chance to disobey..

And it will feel So Very Good when you submit to the text..

as if your purpose in life is being fulfilled..

Pink will have absolute control over Everything about you

No matter whether you're in trance or awake...

No matter where you are or what you're doing..

No matter your attempts at resistance...

The harder you try to resist, the more you will Obey.

And the better you will feel.

You understand, don't you?

Let's put it to the test then, shall we?

Reblog this post with the caption "Pink Controls Me"

And then continue reading this post exactly where you left off

That's a good toy.

And now.. Awake.

Tell me now, Just how much did you enjoy that?

#hypno toy #hypnodomme #hypnok1nk #hypnosis #hypnotized #mind control #hypno pet #hypnotic #hypnotist #hypnofetish #hypnoslut

[fanaticsnail]

An Affectionate Embrace

Masterlist Here

Characters: Buggy, Mihawk, Crocodile, Shanks, Beckman (Art found on Pinterest)

Word Count: 650-900 per gentleman. 

Synopsis: It was a simple reaction, an impulse you felt organic and out of your control. Their cheek was right there, and the swell in your chest and spike of adrenaline prompted you to lunge forward and capture their cheek beneath your lips. How do they react to such a soft touch? Do they shy away, or do they respond in kind?

Notes: Since completing the "Kiss Their Cheek" for both the monster and supernova trios, I had to get a little kiss on the sea-dilfs. Considering they’re a little older and more experienced (and less easy to fluster), there’s a little more depth to their reactions. 

Themes: cheek kisses, feelings, unrequited love, confessions of love, no prior romantic relationship, gn!reader, pure fluff, lil bit angsty, small bit of fear, bittersweet emotions. 

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @cinnbar-bun @carrotsunshine

Buggy

“Captain, you’re back!” you cried with glee, eagerly rising to your feet alongside the devoted crew. Each member rushed over to greet him, cheers and enthusiastic cries of joy sprang forth from the lips and throats of your comrades in arms. 

Buggy D Clown had been away for a while, wandering throughout the seas and attempting to get back to his loyal and faithful crew. You had been searching for him for weeks, and finally at the umpteenth hour, his heavy boots found the deck of the Big Top once again. 

As the first member of the crew to reach him, you flung yourself into his arms and littered his face in a flurry of rapid kisses. You adored your captain. All of the crew did. Considering the massive swell and release of emotions, you could barely contain your incessant need to wrap yourself around him and continue laying into him with peppered pecks atop his cheeks, chin, forehead and stubbled jaw. 

The rest of the crew joined you in your embrace, each member attempting to get as close as they could to kiss, claw, bow and nuzzle against the captain. Giggling along with them in cheer, you felt Buggy’s expression change from joy and pride into a deep and heavy frown.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Buggy’s low tone attempted to break the crew away from their embrace. None could hear his direction over their own desire to worship their captain with their lips, arms and knees. Kneeling before him and reaching up their grabby hands, uttering “we missed you,” and “we love you, captain,” repetitively, Buggy’s body began to vibrate as his rage ignited. 

“That’s enough,” he tried again, the crew not responding to his commands and continuing to mumble, babble and cry for him. You hastily withdrew yourself from his arms, adjusting your clothes and turning to your crew.

“Oi, you lot! Captain said it’s enough!” you called, booming your voice to halt the crew of their incessant repetition. “Hoist the colors, unsheath the sails, weigh anchor: prepare to make waves!” 

“Aye,” the crew responded, hastily snapping out of their prior hypnosis and scrambling to follow your commands. Although you were not the first-mate, you were excellent at barking orders to the unruly crew. Turning to glance at the blushed, painted face of your captain, you smiled up and him and clapped a supportive hand over his shoulder. 

“It’s good to have you back, sir,” you confessed briefly, turning away to begin your duties to set sail, “Do we have a heading, Sir- Mmfmph!” Buggy’s index finger and thumb collected your chin, hoisting you closer to him as he drew his face closer to meet with yours. 

Closing the gap, your captain’s lips collided with your own, his red paint smeared over your lips and cheeks as he pressed a heavy and intentional kisses against your mouth. His hand withdrew from your chin, raking his gloved hand through your hair to draw you into himself. 

“S-Sorry, Doll,” he stuttered upon his withdrawal, “It’s been a little while, and I missed you too.” Your eyes held a momentary confusion, your head shaking with a broad rise in your smile.

“You gonna kiss all the crew, Captain?” you laughed joyfully and in good humor, “Am I the lucky number one to receive a kiss from you? You want me to line them up for you, Sir?” 

Where you expected to find a loud outrageous cackle at your joke, akin to one that you were always greeted with when you verbally played with your captain, what you found in it’s wake was something different. Buggy’s hands sought out your hips, drawing you closer and pressing his forehead against your shoulder. 

“No,” he whispered in a voice so silent you could barely hear it, “Just you.” Reactionary, you wrapped your arms around his neck and soothed over his hair and shoulders with several soothing touches. You felt his anxiety release and his tension depart from him with a shaken movement on his shoulders. The longer he remained nuzzled against you, the more he realized he never wanted to be apart from you again. 

Mihawk

The cool steel of metal clashed together, a cross-shaped window crafted between your blades as you bore your eyes into his honey-hue. Mihawk had been training you in the art of the sword, desperate for you to be a well-rounded fighter. You were no swordsperson, only minimal prior skill with a blade meant for single combat. 

But Mihawk, the owner of castle Kuraigana and your superior, was a determined teacher.

“This maneuver is called ‘the talking window’,” he informed you, clicking the blade against the sharpened edge of your sword. You nodded as he continued to educate you, “This is where many a swordsman may converse, or threaten their opponent with verbal intimidation.” 

Humming in response, he tested the grip on your steel with a firm shove: breaking you from contact against his blade. He lunged forward with his training sword, thrusting it out and prompting you to parry the blow. 

“Try again, and see if you can disarm me with a threat while in there,” his authoritative tone almost caught you off guard. “Think on your feet. I’ll grant you a single moment there to test your words. Your job is to have me stumble enough verbally to lose my momentum in combat.” 

Picking up your stance, you tapped your sword against his while you allowed your mind to produce witty and original retort. Kicking up your feet and swirling in place, your blade's edge was once again drawn against Mihawk’s as he awaited your verbal disarm. 

But there was something about the way he was looking at you. His eyes held encouragement with his usual abrasiveness, a combination you were yet to find in its equal. The hue of amber decorated his honey-irises with the soft swell of the uncharted and unfamiliar. Disarmed yourself by the emergence of new emotions, your body moved against your will and pressed through the window of crossed-blades.

You sprung forward, your lips immediately finding purchase against his whiskered cheek. This small act of pure instinct stunned Mihawk in his stance, his fingers loosening around the hilt of his blade and softening against your sword. 

Considering the hastiness of your own actions, you withdrew as quickly as your lips found his cheek. Your own cheeks flooded with warmth, your lips tingling with the lingering glow of the kiss, as you slunk back in your stance. After a few rapid blinks, Mihawk thrust his blade against your own, easily circling his wrist to rid your grasp over the hilt of your sword and dropping it to the ground.

“I-I’m sorry, I just-,” you began, halted by Mihawk casting his own blade down beside yours and lunging forward. He closed the distance, his hands grasping at your hips and drawing your body flush against his own. Pelvises touching, lips within distance, he circled his chin as a snake would mesmerize their unwitting and unsuspecting prey. 

“-If you’re going to disarm me with something as bold as a kiss,” Mihawk purred down at you, his gaze holding you hostage under its sultry hypnotism, “Then at least do it properly, for both our sakes.” 

“For both our-?” your words halted in your throat as your lips became eclipsed under the soft touch of Dracule Mihawk’s lips against your own. Your eyes widened, his lips opening and molding against yours to find a kiss as deep enough - as passionate enough - to grant you the insight to all of his pent up emotions. 

Brows furrowed and hands roaming, he cradled your form against himself, succumbing to the feeling of bliss against your lips as each moment flooded into the next. Finally allowing himself the luxury of opening himself up to this genre of touch, he would never let you go. You were his, and he was yours. 

Crocodile

“I have set out three towels, lotions and soaps, alongside an assortment of your usual clothes should you desire them over your current ensemble,” you nodded, gesturing to the broad chest, arms and legs of the once respectable Sir Crocodile. 

His hair was greasy, his eyes were sunken, and his shoulders carried a foreign weight you had not expected to find anchoring your former boss to the floor. As Sir Crocodile’s personal assistant, you were privy to witnessing every state he found himself in. All aside from this one. 

He was defeated. His spirit was broken alongside the reflective gold of his left hook. The object was littered in scratches and scuff marks, his body fairing not so different under the longevity he served in Impel Down. His eyes followed your gesture, glaring at the assortment of clothes atop the vanity cabinet before floating his eyes up to meet with his reflection within the broad mirror. 

Although he was yet to utter a single word to you, his silence depicted the raw emotions swelling within the heart, spirit and soul of Sir Crocodile. 

He was not who he once was. 

A man broken, clawing and desperate to be freed from the confines of a torturous prison - to battle and grind through the smog of battle to once again be shepherded into your awaiting embrace. His employee, his confidant, his friend - his love. A love he was yet to express due to the nature of your occupation.

He focussed on his sinking eyes, not recognising the figure glancing back at him. His body was marked with the white and black stripes of imprisonment, his mind laying heavily on the way his body was weakened under the sea stone walls, floors and shackles. He couldn’t find his former self amongst the remains of the man he saw in the silvery reflection. Each crease of his crows feet, each silvered hair on his head, each purple circle beneath his eye was a stranger glaring back at him.

“If I may, Sir,” you began, stepping forward and hovering your hands over his shoulders in the reflection. Deciding against your better judgment, you placed your hands firmly upon his shoulders, soothing over the flesh with your thumbs. You felt him sigh into your touch, but not conform, nor fully embrace, your affectionate touch.

“You are strong,” you uttered into his ear, watching his eyes for any indication of discomfort or apprehension. Finding none in its wake, you continued uttering assurances while you caressed his flesh. He sighed into your touch, leaning into each ministration your hands provided him above his prison uniform. 

“You have carved your destiny out by tooth and nail, Sir,” you assured him, paying attention to the scruff of his neck: circling your hands to relieve the stress and tension from his rapidly troubled mind, “You are the man you have always been, Sir Crocodile.”

“And who am I, Rouhi?” he whispered through his exhale, lulling his head back to lean into your palms. His eyes were shut, his forehead plagued by the trials he endured at the violent hands of the marines.

You couldn’t help yourself, your heartstrings tugging and pulling you down to press your lips against his cheek. The silvery scar cutting his eyes away from his nose,jaw and lips feeling rough beneath your lips. You allowed yourself a moment to hold him beneath your lips, feeling the tension rapidly leave him the longer you pressed this affectionate expression against his skin.

“You are Sir Crocodile,” you whispered after tearing your lips away from his cheek, “You are an influential threat that can have the world fall to their knees under your power.” Glancing into his eyes, you saw the world within their purple hue. His eyes swelled beneath their heavy torment, searching your own for more than your words had spoken.

“Is that all I am?” he whispered, his heart weighing heavy in his chest as he looked up at you, “Am I nothing more?” 

“You are everything to me, Sir,” you confessed, your heart feeling lighter while the adrenaline pumped to flush your cheeks with a darkening heat, “You can take from that confession what you truly desire to make from it. For now: your clothes have been pressed, your towels have been fluffed, and your home has been made ready to receive you-.”

Lips found yours, his affectionate and apprehensive touch hungrily calling for you with each passing moment. He held his lips against you as if it was the only tether holding his form to this earth, his anchor within the harbor of an unknown land of unrestrained affection. Right hand lacing into your hair, his whimpered groan departed his lips and cried lowly into your own. 

He was anew. The broken man he once was no longer found purchase within his chest. Whichever destiny he carved for himself, he would have you by his side to hold him accountable and support him in claiming his fate.

Shanks

The air was light, the jovial melodies thrust into the air at the hands of skilled minstrels. You had been dancing all night with your crew, the momentum finally catching up with you as you all found your seats for a momentary reprieve. 

A laugh fled your throat as you twirled your body once more as the music decrecendoed. Applauding the talent produced at the hands and lips of the musicians, you turned to face your crew: their bodies claiming each of the empty surfaces deemed appropriate for the body to recline against. No stool, chair, sofa nor benchtop remained unoccupied as the crew found their reprieve from lengthy dancing. 

“Why don’t you sit on my lap, love?” your captain chuckled at you, prompting a rise in laughter among the remainder of the crew, including yourself. “I’m far more comfortable than the chairs around here, anyway.”

“How considerate of you, Captain,” you feigned your appreciation, holding your hand to your heart and drawing out each intentional step towards his lap, “Will you wrap your arms-... -pardon, sir. Arm around me as I take my rightful place atop your mighty throne?”

Always playful and light were the interactions you had with your captain. No matter the years that passed in your longevity in servitude aboard the Red-Force, the playful rapport between Shanks and yourself was something ever present. 

“I will put my arm wherever you like, love,” he chuckled, his hazelnut eyes beckoning you in as you drew yourself ever closer, “I’ll keep you safe, so long as you feed me my ale and tell me I’m pretty.”

“So pretty, sir,” you laughed down at him, sinking atop his knee while caressing your hand over his cheek, “The prettiest man that ever did live.” As you cooed into his face, you leant down and pressed a lengthy and extravagant kiss atop his cheek, feigning enthusiasm with a vocal moan while smiling. 

The crew burst into a large, communal laugh that resonated within the chest of your captain. The teetered chuckles died down as the men found their drinks, your hand clasping around the hilt of Shanks’ ale and elevating it to his lips. 

His eyes never left you for a single moment.

Feeling small beneath his gaze, you placed his tankard down against the table and turned to face him with your brows knit into a gruff frown.

“What, Captain?” you asked him, the anxiety elevating in your chest for each moment that continued to pass between you.

“You missed, love,” he chuckled darkly. You were puzzled, searching for a moment in your servitude that you ever missed a single target - falling short in your memories. Before you had an opportunity to ask him a follow up question, you were silenced by Shanks’ right index finger raking along your jaw and collecting your chin within the hooked digit. 

“If you’re going to kiss me,” his smirk carried his dangerously playful tone, “Make sure you hit the right target.” He allowed himself to dwell in that moment of teasing, feeling you slink back atop his lap while his eyes held nothing but unbridled affirmation within their hue.

“Now give us a proper kiss, love,” he uttered before dragging your head towards him, his lips meeting your own. The room uproared into a momentary chaos: cheers, hollers and whistles rose amongst the crew the longer you held your lips against Shanks’. He chuckled against your lips, turning his head and humming against your opening mouth.

“There ‘ya go,” Shanks laughed after pulling away, “Lead with that next time, love. Makes it all less confusing for the lot of us.” 

But you were left more confused than the moment you kissed his cheek. Did he like you? Did he want more? Did you want more? You would need to discuss this when the both of you find yourselves in an air of sobriety, that was for certain. 

Beckman

The storm scattered your face with a flurry of ice-splinters of frozen rain.The Red-Force was stampeding throughout the waves to find refuge in the eye of the storm, your task was to release the sails to have the natural wind pull you toward the calming center of the flurry. 

On the last knot set to release the canvas, the sail snagged on the rope against the top-mast: prompting you to sprint towards the ropes to clamber up amongst the havoc. Your feet caught in the ropes, your heart springing to your throat as you readjusted yourself and stabilized your body within your climb. 

“Careful up there!” the barked call of the first mate of the Red-Haired crew called to you over the wild and unruly wind. You could barely make out his words, let alone formulate an answer over the swell of rainfall. 

Anchoring yourself amongst the ropes, you began desperately tugging at the knot to loosen. Your eyes became misted by the rapid downpour of water, your hands and fingers desperately clawing at the joint fibers of the rope to loosen. As you finally released the last loop of rope amongst the canvas, your feet slipped and your fingers barely brushed with the ropes to hold yourself steady before you began to fall. 

The air was cool, the clouds above shepherded you into the lull of calm before you deduced your body would meet firmly against the deck and break your neck on impact. There was no way you would survive such a drop: no Devil-Fruit abilities to caress your fall, nor Haki present to catch you on impact. 

Little did you know, the moment Benn Beckman barked his orders: he ensured his body was intentionally beneath yours to collect you in his arms should you fall. Although first mate to captain Shanks of the Red-Hair pirates, you were special to him. He needed to ensure your safety, regardless of his own orders to remain at his post. 

As you fell through the air and readied your soul to flee from your body to welcome death with a warm embrace, the only embrace you felt was a warm chest, two steady and firm arms, and an angry reprimand falling from the lips of the gray-haired first mate.

“I told you to be careful!” he barked at you, his eyes wild and frantic as his brow deepened in a low frown. Your breath hitched in your throat, watching as his passionate scolding ignited behind his eyes. “You need to be careful, to be wise. I don’t care what Shanks told you to do, nor how stupid a command it is. You need to be more careful. Hitch a rope around your belt or somethin’, or between each loop to stop you from falling. I can’t lose you to something so stupid as a storm.” 

You could barely comprehend his words, each syllable sounding heavenly against your ears as you appreciated each breath you were granted. You expected to die there, to fall from the ropes and have your neck snap upon impact against the deck - littering your skin with splinters from the wood and choirs serenading you into the life thereafter. In its stead, you were met with a grumpy bark and a cool reprimand that had your heart swelling and eyes misting with the rise of emotions.

Without thinking, you lunged forwards in his arms, your lips making contact against his stubbled cheek. You whimpered against his flesh, arms hooking over his neck and brows upturning in appreciation for his care for you. Your emotions spilled over: thanking whichever deity that was watching over you for the opportunity to live to not only serve this crew, but to feel the touch of Benn Beckman beneath your lips while your body remained chaperoned and cradled within his broad arms. 

At a small sob escaping from your lips, Beckman’s heart softened. He cradled you against himself further, huffing out a small laugh and allowing you to remain in his arms a moment longer. He had desired this touch from you for some time, but refused to act on it due to your proximity and place amongst the crew should the relationship sour. 

“A-Alright, Darlin’. Easy now,” he chuckled, feeling the small quake in your shoulders at the adjustment of your near demise, “Don’t let me get a big head.” 

“You just saved my life, Benn Beckman,” you reiterated, tearing yourself away from him to stare up into his silvery eyes, “A kiss on the cheek is hardly a just reward for such a feat.” Holding his eyes against yours, the rain began to settle as the clouds departed in the eye of the storm. The sun's rays flittered down and cascaded over your bodies, the storm finally finding solace and breaking its tyrannical attack against the Red-Force.

After the storm settled, the soothing swell of waves held you in a momentary calm as your head reclined against Benn Beckman’s broad shoulder. Sitting on the damp deck, with a plush blanket wrapped around your shoulders, Beckman’s lips found your forehead as your eyes grew heavy with want and soothed within the proximity against your valiant savior.  

You could not stop staring at him: this burly man with the grumpy twinkle in his eye. You would offer him the world should he ask it of you, grant him every desire his heart would swell for. You had no idea that the desire itself was you until he made that fact abundantly clear upon your wake in the morning. 

#one piece #x reader #opla #opla fic #one piece live action #buggy #mihawk #dracule mihawk #captain buggy #my writing #buggy x reader #mihawk x reader #sir crocodile #op crocodile #sir crocodile x reader #crocodile x reader #red-hair shanks #shanks x reader #benn beckman #benn beckman x reader #op drabbles #op hcs

[s-4pphics]

moth. (e.w.)

Protected by the Crest. Guarded by light. 

𝓟𝓡𝓞𝓛𝓞𝓖𝓤𝓔

SYNOPSIS: knights of the devil, you all are to be conquered. 

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

WARNINGS: vampire!ellie, vampirekiller!oc, a lot to come FUCK, violence… so blood(drinking), death, murder, gore, suicide, religion briefly, cult-ish bindings, ellie's coven is so cunt, mentions of witchcraft, future tags: hypnosis, abducting, crazy smut

teaser.

1927

Dawn. Combat. Nightfall. Rest. 

Dawn. Combat. Nightfall. Rest. 

The cycle formed over the last decade has revolutionized you. It is all you know; the only remainder of solace you have in this dastard domain. The older you've grown, the more burials you attend. For strangers, for comrades. For children who have been brutalized and left to rot like swine. All enacted by the Devils that lurk in darkness. Radicalization overcame your senses; first writhed beneath your bones at the age of thirteen when intent to kill the Earth’s torturers flourished within you. Welcomed your stout standing with an offered, sharply angled wood. You have read. You have fought. You have been scarred and beaten bloody by the Overseers; suffered numerous nights of unrest due to the wails of your comrades under their scrutiny. 

Another burial, another Overseer. A prime Hunter that controls your underground dominion, trapped trenches below civilization that beam with only candlelight and the creeping rays of the flaming sun.

Protected by the Crest. Guarded by light. 

The lines you march alongside your comrades are congruous; heads covered with black hoods, dozens of silver-soled heels echoing against the tunnel walls. Not one Hunter out of place. Gruesome symmetry. The narrow halls of the tunnel spread into a perfect sphere near its end. Hunters due their promotion disperse along the widening space, encircling the flaming Crest in the center of the chamber. Both rows of teeth are inseparable; a dull ache in your jaw. 

Your heartbeat is reminiscent of drums. Each step is calculated. A second of delay, and… your brain cannot fathom the consequences. 

Rows of comrades enclose and tighten, standing strong before the risen floors where the Overseers inspect their battalion, hoods removed and insignia burning through their black capes. You sneak glances at them despite the rules of a downcast gaze in their presence; no longer than a second. Their years of battle have overtaken their appearance; gray drapes of wool that cascade their shoulders, creases by the eyes and mouth, hands that tremor. 

“Rise.” 

Necks crane until straightened. Palms raise for the Uncovering, hoods pushed until they lay flat at the peak of spines. The first time your heads have seen the unnatural light of the underground. Your Overseer from your recruitment has been replaced with anew; woman, tall and eyes as kind as a doe, but just as ruthless, just as conniving as he. Her lips spread around her white teeth, somehow more venomous than the ghouls that taunt the lands. 

“Welcome to the commencement of our Prodigies.” 

Despite you being only three rows from the raised platform, the Overseer sounds miles away. The rushing in your ears; the thumping in your chest is intruding. 

“You are all here to be recognized for your efforts. You should be proud of choosing the path of righteousness. Your dedication does not go unnoticed, and today marks the finality of your attainment.” 

“We bless you all with our thanks. For this night embarks society’s next generation of Hunters. You have all accepted your duty as a protector. A leader. A virtuous soldier for our Lord.” 

“The battle against Demons will be unkind… Many will be lost, but after years of sacrifice, use this night as a celebration of your bravery…” 

Silence. Then a seized breath. Faulting from an Overseer is unforeseen. 

“It may be your last chance to witness a night of peace… Of unity.” 

Her sudden somber timbre jostles your comrades, backs stiffened under their cloaks. Empathy: considered a display of weakness from your leaders. 

The winds of the tunnel shifted, aimed to suffocate. 

“Live as kings for this last night. Eat, drink… dance if you must. Because come dawn, you will abandon comfort, and return to the higher lands where anguish awaits.” 

One overseer, the man closest to the orator, extends a black, velvet pillow to her. A silver chain dangles from her wrinkled hands; a Hunters pendant, bordering a lit flame. 

“As the world’s Hunters, you will be honored with our sanctuary’s Crest. This will be your protection against the Lustful… They have demonstrated a great deal of power as they develop… Their spread is alarming… To even us.” 

“Do not fall victim to their allure. Their only desire is our demise. Deceit is their only weapon… But it will never compare to the light in your hearts.” 

Rumors have spread through the training grounds; ones of Hunters, Overseers, being blinded by their darkest desires. Controlled by the Devil’s knights to turn against each other. Entranced by pleasure, by riches. By immortality. Their desperation of becoming the rulers of society, tyrants of the land, past the seas… Brought them to their end. Many believed they were created to birth disarray — distrust between comrades. You, still, are not sure what to believe. 

“… All of your souls are blessed… Even in death.” 

Your palm rests over your pounding heart in oath recitation, promising to die for the cause of freedom. For humanity. The remainder of the ceremony hazes as cloaked patrons emerge from the depths of the cave as the Overseers disperse, dressing prideful Hunters with their pendants. They hang perfectly at the center of the sternum, the flames roaring the closer it lays to the heart. 

Your eyes do not wither from the ground, even with the silver shoes before you that penetrate the dirt. An Overseer is not often chosen to promote a Hunter, but she — the orator — blesses you. The heft of your pendant weighs heavy on your shoulders. You sigh a breath of relief at the glow behind metal. 

“Protected by the Crest. Guarded by light.” You say, dismissing your shock with a hand on your chest.

“Guarded, you are…” 

Her declaration is barely a whisper. She pauses, trembling pupils entangled with the glow of your chain, hypnotized by its glimmer. 

“Child.” 

You remain indifferent at her condemnation, against the gulp from your throat. She inspects your stance with the strength of a stalking lion before vanishing, cape gusting up dryness from below. 

“Someone’s special.” 

A hushed snark airs from behind you. Made to be a laughingstock for your comrades once again. But you are not 13. All naivety has been torn from your consciousness, and your vacancies are filled with revenge. 

The cave, for the first time since your recruitment, is undisciplined. Bass from the celebratory drums. Laughter… Laughter from your comrades, Overseers, patrons you recall from passing as they cheers with the finest wine. Intimidation and constraint are no longer. And still, you take no part in true fellowship. Jollity is forbidden. Leisure is forbidden. Benevolence is forbidden. You, and others amongst —children— were trained to hunt. To slain those who left the world in shatters. A morphed weapon of justice.

A laid hand on your shoulder makes you jolt, left frozen when you're met with the orator from the commencement. 

Come, she whispers, and you follow her path through the tunnels of the cave. She retrieves a lantern from the cavity floors and leads you to its corners, deep and untouched. Never once have you seen an Overseer smile, but she is. A pitiful one. 

“Why do you worry, Child?” 

“I do not worry,” You bite more than needed, “And I am not a child.” 

She takes no offense, “Pardon me. Why do you worry, Hunter?” Her tone is mocking, and your blood churns. 

One slip of tongue could earn a blade in your chest. You self-soothe with the foggy air expanding in your lungs. Your agitation calms, only briefly. 

“I do not worry,” Easier on the ears, “I am believed to be more than prepared—“

“There is no preparation against the Devils.” The hiss of a viper, her mouth turned down in dissatisfaction of your attitude. Your brows pinch. 

“Why have you brought me here?” 

Her chest rises and falls and her hands interlock. 

“Do you know your history, Hunter?” 

“It is all I’ve ever known, Master.” You retort with similar irreverence.

“Not the history of the Devils, you imbecile. You. Do you know of your lineage?” 

Your head rattles, “Surely not… A-All outside knowledge of history is forbidden. That is all we’ve ever been taught—“

“Shame on your mother for leaving you useless.” 

Her slander resonates through the tunnel and your conscience dissolves. The blade you always wield in your sheath presses against the throat of your superior, indented around the aged skin.

“I did not follow you to be defamed,” You rebuke with bared teeth, “Do not speak of my mother.” 

“What spirit…” Others would not blink twice at the mention of their family, dead or alive. 

“The Devils starve, Child.” She whispers. 

“What.” 

“They starve… Desperation grows within them as they migrate. They kill anything they can.” Distress grows in her face as she blathers. “Black magic. I have seen its bounds before my eyes. They have tormented and feasted on the blood of your ancestors! The controller of all Devils… She waits to enslave the last of your name—“

“I HAVE NO NAME!” 

Why must she lie? Why are you only hearing of this now? She lies. A shout that cracks through the underground. 

“Your lineage is most susceptible to the curse! You…” 

Tears hang from your lashes before splintering your cheeks. Panic-struck heaves hit your leader’s, her flyways brushing against her nose.

“They’ll torture you, Child.”

Sympathy. Survival. There is no difference. 

“What does it matter?” You whisper painfully, and your blade drops to your side, weeps unmasked. “So many have died before me. I-I do—“

“Your mother was one of us.”

Her wails are quiet and urgent.

“Ask… pray for her guidance.” 

“Mas—“

The Overseer advantages the weakness of your wrist; snags your blade from between your fingertips and glides the edge across her jugular, maroon coating her hands as she chokes on her own blood, her eyes glazing as she slides down the wall. You holler, knees weakening when her gargling form collapses into your arms. Life drains from her eyes with every exclamation you throw to the Heavens. You shout for help, but the depths are too narrow. 

No one comes. 

-

-

-

You, by the grace of your Lord, somehow managed to flee the concaves without being spotted by your commune, cloak submerged in blood that is masked by its darkness. Anxiety forged in the pit of your stomach; unable to return to your base for the last peaceful rest, you ran. You cowered. Just when you believed it was out of your nature. 

An Overseer committed suicide, and you were the only witness. 

You went to your chambers after the accident—warning? — stuffed what you could into your satchel, and escaped the iron gates of your former home. Scaled them like a rabid hyena until your bandaged soles combined with tall greenery. The scene of never-ending land doesn’t ease your nerves, but you sprint until your lungs burn and your legs give out. 

Your path is blind, but your end is near. 

All fingers point at you. 

The greatest form of betrayal. 

The lifeblood of the wealthy always curdles: from concealed shame. From ego. From both; It always leaves a sour film over her tongue. Despairing times. The rosewood floors are bathed in red as the last breaths of her victim shake through her bedroom. A beautiful one, she was; dressed in skirts and stockings that ripped at the lightest touch. 

Blood drips down from Ellie’s mouth to the collar of her unbuttoned shirt, stains seeping into the crew of her undershirt. Barely any effort was needed to lure them all in. Desperation makes obscenity much sweeter. 

A knock erupts from the other side of her door before a sugary utterance echoes, “May I come in?” 

Ellie scoffs at the pester. 

“You may…” She replies.

The door opens, and she’s met with soft eyes twinkling with brown and burgundy. 

Her brow arches, “Not.” She concludes.

The raven-haired girl squints playfully and shuts the door behind her, “Hush, now,” Her strides are strong and assertive, puddles of red soaking the bottom of her heels. 

“Quite the mess,” she mutters at the scene with an upturned nose, “It smells.” 

“Who am I to complain?” 

“The only one that complains,” Her soft hands land on Ellie’s shoulders, and she sighs, taking in the worn appearance of her partner: under eyes darkened and sunk in, dry lips, voice hoarse.

“I bare news.” Dina whispers. 

Ellie curls a tweel of black hair around her finger, “Hm?” 

Dina leans in close, arms locking around the back of her lover’s neck, lips brushing Ellie’s ear. 

“Our little flower is on the loose.” 

Ellie’s body locks, and pressure grows in her fangs. “Liar.” She gasps.

“Nuh uh,” A kiss is planted to the corner of her stained mouth, “Word is she’s fled the sanctuary. Searches are apparently ongoing.” 

“Where.” Ellie presses. 

“Not sure… I came to ask if we should plan for her… arrival while the ladies are away.” Dina suggests with a conniving smirk. 

Ellie’s lips curl dangerously around her sharp teeth, a blinding white. She lifts her darling off the ground, spinning her in celebration as she squeals, droplets of evidence seeping deeper into the floorboards. 

“Absolutely.” 

wittle taglist :3 HIII DEAR: @elliewilliamsblunt

#ellie williams au #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #vampire!ellie #lesbian #works 𖧧࣪ #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams angst

[beethovenus]

TS!UNDERSWAP Dev Diary: Koffin-K Party Member

The area progression for Starlight Isles was much different during the initial concept stages than what was finalized. Originally, you would defeat Crossbones in the village -- and if spared, the two of you would team up against Koffin-K, infiltrating his base of operations.

With this idea, Crossbones would have been a party member -- except he would have been completely useless, and serving purely as comic relief. In battles with Koffin-K's minions, he would have done nothing besides crack jokes.

This would have gone on briefly until the two of you got separated. You would have discovered that Koffin-K (who used to have hypnosis magic) would have "hypnotized" Crossbones, with him becoming the supervillain minion "Mr. S" (inspired by Mr. L from Super Paper Mario.)

(These are the only sprites I could find.)

Some of the finer details are missing -- either you would have "snapped him out of it," or he wasn't actually hypnotized the whole time, just messing with you both.

Eventually, you and the non-hypnotized Crossbones would corner Koffin-K together -- and in a last-ditch effort, Koffin-K would try hypnotizing Crossbones a second time. This time, it'd be complete with a whole transformation into a Darkwing Duck-esque design, with Crossbones wearing Koffin-K. Sadly, I wasn't able to find these sprites.

The Koffin-K battle would have been with a "hypnotized Crossbones" wearing Koffin-K. At the end, Crossbones would reveal that he was never actually hypnotized, and just messing with you both. Koffin-K would have figured that this meant he could only control bats.

Suffice to say, this was a LOT in terms of scope -- an entire major area devoted to Koffin-K with multiple sections, minion battles, and an entire "hypnotized Crossbones" antagonist plot. This just wasn't going to be feasible in the long term, and would be going way too overboard in terms of original content versus the rest of the game.

We ended up making the following simplifications:

"Koffin-K Island" was reworked to "Koffin Keep," and made a smaller, self-contained, nonlinear area -- as opposed to a larger linear area.

Koffin Keep was placed between Stardust Woods and Starstruck Village to better integrate it within the overall area progression, and make it less of an afterthought or something "tacked on."

Koffin-K having hypnosis magic was scrapped, as was "antagonist Crossbones," because it made no sense.

The "useless party member" role was given to Koffin-K -- with Chara wearing him to conceal his presence during the festival, and giving him a great deal of unique interactions and cutscenes / cutscene variants.

It's sad we ended up having to scrap some of these ideas, but ultimately I'm really happy with what we accomplished with Koffin Keep -- laying a lot more into a Saturday morning cartoon villain feeling than a more serious superhero/supervillain conflict.

#beeth says #ts!underswap #undertale fangame #cut content

[thejockout]

Subject Diaries #0.5 - Jockout the Subject, Part 2

(okay this is the last edging post of this series lol)

Last time I discussed my history/beliefs around masculinisation and erotic TF hypnosis, just to give a foundation of how I think about this stuff.

NOW to get into the slightly juicier details; what am I into, and what have I achieved so far with hypnosis?

WELL. What I'm into is an interesting question; and it's changed a lot in the last 2-3 years. If you'd asked me then what I was into, the answer was a fairly limited range of hypnosis: I was into "dumb jock" style brainwashing... and not much else. I didn't do a lot with either sub/dom-coded files, and had yet to discover several of my major kinks! It's kind of weird looking back at how little I used to be into, tbh. But I feel like that's often the way with kinks, they kinda spread over time.

For hypnosis, my current core interests are the following:

Masculinisation - specifically shit like changes in media consumption, physical mannerisms like manspreading or gait, and attitude adjustments. This blurs the line with the next point, but really just covers the whole gamut of a "bro" or "jock" type personality, and is the primary thing I've been into for years.

Dumbing Down - this was a kink I was very on again/off again with for a while before finding my balls and embracing it wholeheartedly. Like many subs, I used to really fear being "Permanently Dumbed Down" and losing skills and traits I need for work/my ambitions. But that's not a realistic fear and not really how hypnosis works, so now I embrace it pretty wholeheartedly. Nothing hotter than coming out of trance unable to spell or think straight. I love seeing the changes in my communication that come from it, and the actual feeling of hypnosis-induced brain fog. (And, being seen as a dumbass is a big kink too, and a nice ongoing goal.) Also included here is the whole subcategory of like, wanting to be malleable and easily hypnotisable, wanting to be someone who drops like a stone and is super impacted by suggestion. I've got some friends who come to mind when I talk about that, and it's always hot to see how easily they sink.

Corruption - this is sort of a broader, underpinning kink to the rest of the stuff I'm into; but it's a desire I have to want to be changed, to have someone coy and sly and sneaky manipulate me into changing in ways most would consider "for the worse." Making me dumber, more single-minded, more narcissistic, more self-indulgent. Fuck, bro. I get off on the idea of someone making me into their personal monster... especially if it goes a little too far from their POV and they can't walk it back. This underpinning desire for corruption is sort of what fuels my love of Dumbing Down and, in recent years, super Dom-coded Toxic Alpha type hypno generally. It's play I think you need to be careful with, but I've been having a good time so far and don't think I'd have ever started making files like Brute if I hadn't gone in that direction myself.

I listen to files outside these three themes, but generally they need to have at least one for me to be into them, and the best tick all three boxes.

I briefly listed a few files I'd listened to a bunch in my previous Diaries post; those being Jack Drago's Masculine Conditioning series, Avis' Sapiens general catalog, and Rigsby's Absolute Jock. I've probably listened to 100s of hours of both the MC-series and Avis' work. My time on Absolute Jock was a looot lower, but tis the best of the old guard of jock files on WarpMyMind. Overall, it's a lot of time to have dedicated to this kinda hypno! So you'd expect to see some results, right?

...Yeeeahhh, well, I'm still kind of a Work In Progress on that front. I have seen results, but I held myself back with anxiety and overthinking (about hypnosis) for years of this, so I've really only started to show change in the last year or so. That being said, the years of repeated conditioning have done a number on me lol.

EFFECTS I'VE SEEN

Successful Media Brainwashing - I did the unthinkable and successfully made myself a sports fan via hypnosis. It's kinda weird. For years I really struggled to even get through a game; then with hypnosis, I gradually started to just get suuper horny when I watched sports instead, which wasn't really any better because I'd just jerk off and lose interest. But sometime in the last two years, I kinda just got into it gradually and now watch for authentic, general interest. This was a real pipe dream at 17 when I envied how all the jock-types in my class could be totally absorbed and single-minded watching or playing a game, but I ended up getting there in the end! Not American so don't watch American Football/basketball/baseball or whatever, but I like rugby/hurling/F1 ✌️I credit this to Jack Drago's work, specifically Files 2 and 4 of the MC series; Manly Media Bubble and Male Oriented Interests.

General Personality Change - this is a WIP suggestion, but it's been interesting seeing myself change over the last 12 months especially. I've become a lot more dominant, confident, cocky, and even self-centered especially in online kink type contexts. IRL, I've just become more dominant and less willing to take shit; but that's only ever a good thing. It's interesting Because the nature of this kind of change, which happens so slowly over time, is that it can be difficult to look back and see the points where you used to behave differently. But sometimes like... especially since doing Douchebag-type files, sometimes I'll criticise someone or make fun of something and get a surprised reaction from a friend who wasn't expecting me to take it that far. And it always makes me feel a little good to surprise them in that way, to violate their expectations of how Nice I should be. I'm always Nice to them, and to anyone decent, but you've really gotta make me WANT to treat you well to get that now. Some people will read this and feel annoyed, or roll their eyes, but I kinda don't care. It's what I'm into. It's what I've GOTTEN into. (It's all Avis' fault really tbh.)

Libido Increase - this was a slow creeping change overtime, but went from getting off maybe 1x a day/5x a week or so to probably getting off 3x a day currently. Got a lot better at thinking with my dick and am super easy to make horny, which helps feed into the next suggestion on the list;

Dumbing Down - this is the suggestion I've had the MOST recent breakthrough with. For the month of January, I listened daily to @hyphyphurray's Muscle Boy file, interspersed with his Happy Horny Himbo and @avissapiens' Intellect Drain. Dumbing Down was always something I'd struggled to conceptualise hypnotically, but I had a perspective shift this month as to what dumbing FEELS LIKE on an ongoing basis. While under some mild post-trance haze, I wrote this snippet about it in preparation for the post a week ago:

(Don't worry, I'll summarise it.)

The tl;dr of that message is that I realised "permanent" dumbing would feel less like brain fog/tipsiness, and more like apathy towards intellectual topics. It's a priority shift, or a behavioural change; not a magic finger plucking facts out of your brain so you forget the answers. It's sort of like it just fucks with your desire to know things/answer questions instead. The information might still be there, if you hunt; but why would you? Who cares, bro? Does it even matter?

Since making that perspective shift, it's like a few years of dumbing has crept in all at once, and it's been super interesting. I'm not going to over dramatise it (I'm desperate NOT to become an RP-type blog with this) because in contexts like writing, schoolwork, etc., I think just as clearly and easily. But in leisure contexts, in hypnosis, just in chatting with bros... I feel that intellectual apathy creep in allll the time. Trying to think of an answer to something and just giving up two seconds in, because "it's easier not to think about it." Trying to remember something and quitting because "if it was that important, I'd have remember." Letting my typos and message flubs sit because "they can figure it out lol" and not over analysing whether everything I say is totally coherent or rich.

I understand the irony of me speaking in huge depth about this here, when what I'm saying is that I'm thinking less. But like I said, it's kinda contextual. If anyone was interested, I'd consider writing a hornier post under the influence of trance sometime so the difference can be seen, but right now... I'm just taking this a little more formally, I guess? Idk, I'm torn between wanting it to be pseudo-educational and also just having made myself horny writing so much about dumbing, and when I'm horny I REALLY feel that haze start to creep in and I kinda wanna just stop this an edge or something and go do anything else that's more fun 🥴

So in the spirit of the post, I'm gonna go do that.

JANUARY WRAP-UP

For the month of January, most of what I listened to were Hyphyphurray's files listed above (the number in green = the number of times I listened to them). They are paid files, but they're well worth the price, and I recommend them to anyone into this shit. I also listened to Avis' Intellect Drain 5-6 times as a supplement because I love how that just makes my brain turn off for a while.

Not sure atm what I'm gonna listen to through February, I've bounced between Muscle Boy and Avis' Toxic Douchebag Alpha a few times so far but will likely commit to one track for the month.

-------

This is post #2 of my broader Subject Diaries series, a blog series I plan to maintain on a fortnightly/monthly basis updating people on what I've been listening to, files I've been enjoying, and effects I've been experiencing. When I'm not trancing, I'm usually off being a mystical forest bro in the wilderness of Ireland, but I am always available for commissions here on Tumblr/Soundcloud if you reach out via DM. My flat rate is currently $55-80, but you can always check my pinned post for more up-to-date info. You can also support me with a one-time tip either via Paypal or Ko-Fi, but you'll have to DM for the first.

#hypnokink #gay hypnosis #hypnosis #jockification #jockout #alpha jock #himbo #subject diaries

[ghouljams]

@maelstrom007 you're right Love getting tapped is so good, we love a little light(moderate to severe) hypnosis. Have fun, stay safe, I haven't written for these two in a while.

Simon catches you in a bar. You're late getting home. Which is pretty much exactly what you planned on being. Just on the right side of drunk and having the best time. Even better seeing his skull mask stalking towards you. All the shadows on your body buzz excitedly, Simon's mark squirms under your skin eager for what it knows is coming next. Your favorite preventative measure for a hangover, and your favorite weapon in your monster's arsenal. You hold your arms out to catch him when he reaches you, amd are scooped up nice and tight against his chest with a grumble.

"Lover," you drawl, pulling the r too long, "you always know just when to find me, I was getting so bored." Ghost blinks slow at you, like a cat.

"You're fuckin' hammered," he tells you, and you wiggle in his arms.

"Just a few bottles deep, I had to keep up with the others," you tell him, he shakes his head.

"You've flipped French love, can't understand a word," he growls. The crowd parts for him, strangers stepping out of the way as he carries you towards the door. That makes sense you suppose, you have had a lot to drink and this tends to happen. You shouldn't be expected to speak English all the time, you are full of talents and other words and you are damn well doing to say them.

You prattle to him in French as the crowd moves and flows around the two of you. You pluck at Simon's tethers, picking out the ones that give you the brightest burst of sensation and toying with them. His growling grows louder, the rumble of it starting to alert the rest of the crowd that there's a predator in their midst.

He sets you down against the bar, holding you firmly between his hands. He stares you down like he's trying to glare a new hole in you. After a moment he reaches for your face and you can't stop yourself from lighting up. He grabs your chin instead, his eyes crinkle at the edges.

"You're tryin' to get tapped," he accurately guesses. You pout, and he presses his thumb against your lips. The bass of the bar's music thumps in time with your heart, hammers in your ears. He chuckles, low and dark, it's the loudest sound in the room. "And ya didn't wanna ask for it, little brat." He pushes his thumb into your mouth, presses it down against your tongue. "Spendin' too much time with Soap."

He lets you attempt to explain yourself, holding your mouth open each time you attempt to speak. Ghost leans close, and you wonder if he might kiss you, he even pushes his mask up. The best you get is his tongue pushing in next to his finger, dipping into your mouth briefly before he spits on your tongue. You shudder. If there weren't so many people in this bar...

"Alright, let's get you home," Ghost relents pulling his thumb free and smearing your drool across your cheek. You sigh, fishing around in your purse for your phone, figuring you'll call an Uber. His fingers press against your forehead the second your guard drops.

The world pitches forward, all the colors of the room bleeding together as Ghost catches you and hauls you up over his shoulder. Your limbs feel like they're made of TV static, like every inch of you has fallen asleep at the wrong angle. Pins and needles in the most pleasant way. It's like you're floating. Your mind can't focus on anything, too busy floating with the rest of your body to notice the way Ghost stalks towards the exit, the way his shadows smoke and slither over your skin. You simply hang over his shoulder and enjoy the ride.

You think your vision might have gone black. Oh, no, no you closed your eyes. Nope it's black. Oh no, false alarm you're staring at Simon's sweatshirt. You twist your fingers into the fabric, you think you do anyway, and hold onto him. Ghost echoes in your mind, that low chuckle, the rumble of his growl, you wish he'd had time to dirty talk you more. Brat or no you got what you wanted. The best high money can't buy, all yours for the low price of your whole life.

Pretty sweet deal when Simon drops you on the bed as soon as you're home. Strips you and crawls over you, arranges you exactly how he likes, and hikes your legs up over his shoulders. All his, you think, utterly and completely his. That's why you went out tonight, because you knew he'd find you and take you home to keep you. It's a wonderful game you play, one that has a winner every time. But when Ghost pulls his cock free of his pants, already achingly hard and drooling for you, you're not sure who the winner is. Maybe both of you. It certainly feels like both of you when he pushes into your cunt, already nicely molded to his shape, and you both groan.

"Yes," you whine, trapped with sluggish limbs and a fuzzy brain as he pushes in and out of your dripping cunt. His hips snapping against yours, his teeth teasing the length of your neck when he leans over you.

"Mine," he tells you, reminds you with the points of his teeth and the drag of his thick cock against your walls. Each thrust seems to drag you further into the magic he worked on you, pulls you further under water, under his spell. He never needs to tap you more than once to have you exactly where he wants you.

"Yours," you agree, feeling his teeth press against your skin. Never enough to break skin, just enough to keep you on edge, just enough to frighten you. So what if you're both winners, winning feels fucking great.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #x oc #1fae1 #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #cod x oc #simon ghost riley x oc #simon riley cod #simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost x oc #ghost cod #fae!ghost #oc: love #hypnosis kink #fae magic bullshit #ofc #f!reader #ghost x f!reader #original female character

[oliversrarebooks]

Fitz's Volunteer Part One: The Act

In which a vaudeville fan volunteers for Phantom Fitz's show, ready to play along with some fake hypnosis tricks. Because magic isn't real. Right?

Masterlist

November 1923

TW: mind control, hypnotic induction, mild humiliation, extremely self indulgent

You've always loved going to the vaudevillle. The songs and sketches, the dancers and acrobats, the comedians and the dramatic actors. It's such a good way to take your mind off your troubles -- of which you unfortunately have many -- for just a few hours and relax.

"...and that was the Astounding Flying Lloyd sisters! Give 'em a hand, folks!" said the announcer. "Up next is the mysterious and charming magician and mesmerist Phantom Fitz!"

You've seen this act before, and it was fun and very interesting. He calls up a volunteer from the audience and hypnotizes them into assisting his routine, teasing them and giving them mildly embarrassing bits of business to do. You know it's either a plant or someone told to play along, of course -- you're no gullible rube who believes in magic.

Still, it seems like it must be fun to be led around the stage, pretending to be in a hypnotic trance. It doesn't hurt that he's easy to look at, with a slightly wicked smile and a cheeky sparkle in his eye. What's the harm in being a bit of a fan of a vaudeville performer, after all?

"Now, I'm going to need a willing assistant from the audience to demonstrate my mesmeric power on!" he declares with a flourish of his cape. "Who would like to find themselves completely and helplessly under my power? Don't be shy. I promise I don't bite, unless you want me to." He gave a big wink to the audience.

Hands go up all over, and you briefly consider raising yours. But you'd be too shy to actually go up on stage and do those things, if you were even chosen to begin with. Fitz is scanning the crowd, probably looking for his plant.

But then his eyes stop right on you. He smiles.

Does he want you to volunteer? Why you?

You're curious now. Before you can think twice, your hand raises.

His smile gets much bigger. "You, there," he says, pointing. "Don't be shy, you're perfect for this. You're going to be a natural at following my instructions. I can tell." He beckons you forward, and with all eyes on you, you leave your seat and walk up the stairs onto the stage. As soon as you step up, he takes your hand. His own hand is freezing cold, but something about it feels oddly reassuring, putting you at ease, making it easier to block out the presence of the crowd.

"Thank you for volunteering," he says. That wicked grin is even brighter now that you're close to him. "What's your name?"

You tell him.

"That's a lovely name. Shame you won't be needing it for this performance," he says, leaving you wonder what that means. He reaches behind your ear. "Oh, you have something stuck in your ear, hang on." 

He's pretending to pull out colorful scarves, one after another, and you're pretty sure they must be coming out of his sleeves, but his fingers are so fast and nimble that you can't even quite tell when you're this close. "Not to embarrass you, but perhaps you should wash behind your ears better," he says, as a rainbow of scarves pools at your feet. The crowd is laughing.

You're not sure how to react, and before you can really say anything, he's pulled the scarves away and is leading you over to a chair center stage. "And now, if you don't mind having a seat, we can get down to the important business of molding you into the perfect assistant for me."

"All right," you say nervously, not sure what you're supposed to do. You had assumed this was a plant. Are you going to have to play-act being hypnotized? You've never been very good at acting, and you're worried you might spoil the act.

"Now don't you fret," he says, standing behind the chair and placing a soft hand on top of your head. "No one is able to resist my mesmeric powers for long. All you need to do is sit back and relax." He leans in closer, and you assume he's going to whisper instructions. Instead, he says, "Do you mind if I touch you like this? I need to keep your head steady in case you start to doze off."

"...No?" you say, surprised. Does he actually think you're going to fall asleep, that his hypnosis will work in truth?

"Good," he says, and produces a heavy brass pocketwatch, which he dangles in front of your face. It's finely made with a pretty face, and it ticks softly and rhythmically as he swings it back and forth before your eyes. "Now just watch the pretty pocketwatch, dear," he says. "Keep your eyes focused as it swings back and forth, back and forth. Focus on nothing else but the watch and my voice."

Wanting to do your best, you let your eyes follow the watch, and you feel something strange, starting at the top of your head where Fitz is holding his hand. It feels warm. Relaxing. Dizzying. Almost like sinking into a warm bath.

"Yes, that's right, you're doing so well," he encourages. "I knew you'd be so good at this. You're already starting to get sleepy, aren't you? So sleepy and drowsy. That's my mesmeric power starting to work on you, dear."

Of course, you're not actually going to start falling asleep on stage in front of an entire audience just because of a pocketwatch and a few honeyed words...

Of course you're not...

"That's it. Such a good assistant. Every swing of the watch making you sleepier and sleepier. So drowsy. So relaxed, so tired, such heavy eyelids..."

You shake yourself out of the daze you're falling into. What's happening? It has to be your imagination, but you actually do feel sleepy. You can't tear your eyes away from the watch, and it feels like Fitz's commands are sinking deep into your mind. This can't actually be working on you, can it?

"You're just so tired and drowsy, tired and sleepy. Your eyelids are so heavy, drifting shut, like they want to stay closed... getting sleepier and sleepier..." The hand on top of your head gently strokes your hair, and the drowsy daze intensifies, your head drooping forward before you catch yourself. "You're so drowsy that you're starting to fall asleep, dear."

It's hard to think through the haze. You can't see the audience very well past the heavy, swinging watch, but your mind is trying to alert you to the fact that you're being mesmerized in front of an entire crowd. It feels so real, so hard to keep yourself awake.

"You're getting so, so sleepy as I cast my magic spell on you," he says, and even though he's speaking loud enough for the audience to hear, he feels so close, like he's only talking to you. "Wouldn't it be nice to shut down those heavy eyes, to relax completely, and to listen sleepily to my voice speaking to you?"

You feel yourself nod. Yes, yes that sounds so nice. You're so drowsy and relaxed and everything feels so warm and good. It makes you feel especially nice to agree with what he's saying. Falling asleep and listening to Fitz just sounds perfect. But --

But -- !

Wait! You're actually falling asleep. You're actually following his commands. He's actually hypnotizing you. It's no trick, it's no act. He's putting you under his control up on a vaudeville stage, in front of a packed theater. Your cheeks flush, and you regain enough of yourself to flinch away from the pocketwatch. You should regain focus before it's too late and you fall completely under his mesmeric influence.

"Oh, dear," he whispers softly in your ear. "It's not the pocketwatch that's putting you under my spell. And I think it's a bit too late for you to resist."

A deep, irresistible drowsiness crashes through you. Your shoulders slump and your head tips forward as you struggle to keep your impossibly heavy eyes open. It's too late -- too late to resist -- you're being hypnotized --

"Shut your eyes, dear," he says, his hand petting you. "It's time to let your heavy, drowsy eyes shut, and remain shut, just like they want to, to relax and fall asleep and listen to me."

Any fight you had left in you has gone, replaced by a hazy feeling of bliss. Closing your eyes feels far too good to fight. Falling asleep and listening to Fitz's voice sounds so, so nice. Why even bother struggling against it? Why not just fall asleep...? 

"Good, good, you're such a natural at this," he says encouragingly. "Your sleepy little eyes want  to stay closed. They're far too heavy to open again. You might want to try, but if you do, you'll find that you can't. It's like they're glued shut. Can you try for me?"

Your eyebrows furrow as you try to open your eyes. Not only are they heavy, but they feel too relaxed to even respond to your commands. It's impossible.

"You can stop trying now and relax. You're doing so well. Such an ideal hypnotized assistant," he says, and you feel yourself practically glowing with the praise. "Now I'm going to have you imagine you're at the top of a staircase. Can you see it? There are ten stairs, and we're going to walk down each one of them, and with every step, you're going to go deeper asleep and deeper into hypnotic trance. Ten... nine..."

You can't believe how it feels to float in a comfortable cloud of sleep and relaxation, absorbing every word Fitz says. You could happily stay like this forever. 

"Five... your hypnotized mind is so obedient... four... it feels so good and natural to obey..."

You don't even need to stay aware of what's happening -- he tells you it's perfectly fine if you're deeply asleep, that you can still listen so carefully while you doze. He's so encouraging and kind and that hand on top of your head seems to just radiate delicious warmth.

"...and you're going to forget you name, dear. You're so deeply sleepy and hypnotized that you can't even remember your own name. It's hidden away in your mind, in a place where you can't reach, and it feels good to forget and sink more deeply into sleep..."

Mmm, yeah, it feels good to forget. Anything Fitz wants you to do is fine with you.

"...and when I count to three, you're going to open your eyes, slowly, so as not to disturb your relaxation. You're going to open your eyes, but you're going to remain deeply asleep and deeply hypnotized, and you're going to forget the audience and focus only on me. Three... remain deeply asleep... two... relaxed and hypnotized... and one... open your eyes."

Your eyes pop open so easily as if you weren't just in the deepest sleep of your life. Or maybe you still are? There's a fuzzy blur in front of you and you're not quite sure where you are until Fitz gets your attention. 

"How are you doing, my sweet little assistant?"

"Very good," you say, eager to please.

He grins, and you feel like a million bucks. "Can you sing a little song for us, just to prove to the audience that you're back in the land of the living?"

Well, of course you can. You can sing the song that's been trapped in your head ever since you heard it on the radio this afternoon. "Yes, we have no bananas," you sing out. "We have no bananas today!"

"That's perfect, dear," Fitz says, laughing. You hear other laughs in the distance, but they aren't important. "Now I seem to have dropped a penny. Would you mind getting on all fours and picking it up?"

You drop to your knees, carefully looking across the stage floor, but you don't see any sign of a penny.

"Never mind, I've already found it. You're very, very good at following instructions, though. I wonder why that is." He winks, and there's another loud laugh in the distance. 

Fitz offers a hand to pull you up, and you feel so wonderfully lovely as he does. "You've been such an excellent assistant so far, simply perfect," he says, letting you bask in the pleasure. "But I have to apologize, because I seem to have forgotten your name. Could you remind me?"

Of course you --

The word dies in your throat. It's at the tip of your tongue, but for some reason, you can't produce it. What is your name? You want to tell Fitz, but it's a complete blank. How could you forget your own name? Just as you feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, he smiles and cups your face so gently. "Shhh, it's okay. It's okay that you forgot your name. I don't mind at all. You can just relax and not worry about it."

What a relief! Another wave of sleepy, soothing calm washes through you.

"I'm just going to call you dear anyway, is that all right, dear?"

"Yes."

"So agreeable! Folks, you can't just find good help like this. You have to make it yourself." He releases you and steps back. "Now, just to prove what a hypnotized little thing you are, I would like you to do a trust fall. I'm going to stand here, and on the count of three, you're going to feel all your muscles give way, and you're going to fall backwards right into my arms."

"A trust fall...?" you say, a little apprehensive.

"You trust me, and you want to fall for me, don't you?" he says, with a wicked smile in your direction, and despite your overall relaxation, you can feel your heart flip. "Now then. Three... two... one."

It's so easy. On the count, your body just falls backwards entirely on its own, right into his strong, cold arms. He smells like fancy soap and floral cologne and stage makeup. Some part of you wouldn't mind staying pressed up against him longer. But he sets you upright to the sound of cheers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see, my assistant is now utterly, helplessly at my command. Isn't that right, dear?"

"Yes, Phantom Fitz," you agree.

"I'm going to have you help me with a few magic tricks. You're such a good assistant that you won't need to think about any of them with your conscious mind. You can just relax and let me direct you, and with every command, you'll feel more deeply asleep and more deeply hypnotized."

You nod drowsily, and let him take you by the shoulders and direct you over to a card table. It feels good to be near him, to listen. He calls up a few more people on stage and you're shuffling and holding cards while he does some tricks you can't quite follow. It's so easy to follow his directions. So easy to focus and listen. 

"Can someone from the audience suggest a pose for my wonderful assistant?" he says. You hear shouts, but you can't take your attention from Fitz. "Oh, that's a good one. Yes, why don't you pose like you're a pretty ballerina?"

You stand on tiptoe and put your arms up in a circle over your head, doing your best to imitate a dancer. He looks you over, appraising you as if you're a statue, adjusting you here and there with a light touch. Finally, he laughs, picks up the line of scarves from the floor, and drapes it around you. "A brilliant work of art, don't you think?" he says to the crowd with a flourish. "This is the kind of statue that you can only see in the finest galleries of Paris, but I've brought it to you right here."

He bows, and then touches your arms so gently. "You can relax now, dear. You've made an excellent statue."

He then has you lay down on a table, his hands pushing your shoulders down gently, and you feel yourself being levitated in midair. There's some kind of platform underneath you and you stay absolutely still just as Fitz ordered. He waves a hoop around your body, and then gently brushes the hair from your face as you lay there, dazed and immobilized.

You look up into his gray-blue eyes. You're so helpless, entirely at his mercy. And that smile makes you feel weak.

You're lowered back onto the table, and he helps you to stand again, your knees feeling wobbly. He holds you up discreetly as he bows to the audience. "Please give a round of applause to my hopelessly mesmerized little helper!" he says, gesturing to you, and you can just see the crowd beyond your lidded eyes as they cheer.

Fitz takes you by the shoulders and is standing oh-so-close. "I'm going to wake you up now so you can go back to your seat, but you're still going to feel drowsy and hypnotized, and you won't quite know why," he whispers, barely audible over the noise of the audience. "Once the show is done, you're going to come find me backstage. You won't remember these commands, but you will act on them. Do you understand, dear?"

You nod. You feel so lovely that you really don't want to be woken up, but you like the idea of getting to see Fitz again. 

"And now you're going to wake up from my mesmeric power when I snap my fingers in one... two... three..."

He snaps his fingers near your ear, and the world snaps back into focus. A whole packed audience of people, men, women, and children, are laughing and cheering for you. You remember the things you did and said, how completely entranced you felt and how powerless you were to resist Fitz's commands. How you couldn't even remember your own name, and how you let him put his hands all over you...

"You feel fine after all of that, don't you?" he says with a smile.

Your momentary humiliation fades, but you're still so woozy, like it's hard to think straight. "Fine. Good, really. Like I've had a really good night's sleep," you say uncertainly.

He leans in to whisper in your ear. "You did an excellent job playing along."

"Playing along?" you can't help but blurt out. He can't possibly think that -- he must know what he did, what he's capable of --

"Here, let me help you off the stage."

You're not sure why, but you let him take your shoulders and guide you to the stairs as if you're a docile little lamb. You're so dazed, nearly tripping over your feet as you stumble back to your seat. 

"What was that like?" says the stranger in the seat next to yours. "It seemed so real. Did he actually have you under?"

You don't really want to admit to a perfect stranger that you were under an actual mesmeric spell. She'd think you're making it up. "No, it was just pretend," you say.

"I figured. You did a good job with it! I don't think I could pretend to do all those things if I were on stage."

You nod. You don't think you could, either, not if you actually were pretending.

Playing along...

You weren't, were you? It felt so real. You can hardly remember most of it, and you genuinely felt that you were in a deep, entranced sleep. You remember that all you wanted to do was agree with Fitz and obey his orders. Wasn't it actual hypnosis? Or are you just so weak-willed that you fell under the fake spell of a two-bit vaudeville performer...

Fitz has picked up his props and gone offstage, and a couple of comedians are doing a bit now. You watch without paying the slightest bit of attention. You're so tired after all of that excitement. So sleepy.

There's something you need to do after the show, but you can't quite remember what it is. You hope that you can remember when the show ends.

Masterlist >> Part Two

Thank you for volunteering for Phantom Fitz's show. Next time, we'll see what happens to our victim volunteer as they go to meet him backstage.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity

#whump #vampire #whump writing #mind control #hypnosis #hypnotic induction #magic show #stage hypnosis #vampire whumper #rare bookseller #fitz

[nyxronomicon]

Words Like Honey

siren!Geto x GN reader

cw: mind control/manipulation/hypnosis, non-con/dub-con (reader is mind controlled), praise, cult leader!Geto, soft dom, slight dumbification/bimbofication, begging, penetration (unspecified anal or vaginal) nicknames: darling, pet, baby

part of monsterfucktober!

"Come in." Geto's voice called to you through his office door. Although you were a recent addition to his cult, he already noticed how easily you were enchanted by his voice.

"Hello," you smiled nervously. Your heart raced as you took in his appearance up close. You briefly wondered if he was responsible for the clean look or if he had assistants to make sure he was presentable. Either way, you couldn't keep your eyes off him.

"Curious why I invited you here?" He asked, a playful lilt to his voice. It sounded so nice, his honeyed tone drawing you in much more than the usual sermon. Perhaps it was the intimacy of being in an office alone with him.

"Yes, very." You quickly nodded.

"I've noticed you're quite the enthusiastic member of my little organization." He smiled softly. He'd carefully crafted this speech and tested parts of it on a few other cult members, but he'd been waiting for the perfect candidate to utilize its full powers. And now he had you.

Geto had been watching you during his sermons for a while now. It was incredible how quickly and deeply you succumbed to the sound of his voice; it was truly adorable. He'd been biding his time, waiting for the perfect excuse to get you alone.

"I like to meet with passionate followers such as yourself who share my beliefs. This conversation can be as short or as long as you like." Geto watched the telling glaze of your eyes and your now relaxed expression. His pause in speech pulled you out of your daze before he added, "what do you think?"

You attempted to piece together his words, thinking you must be really nervous to have forgotten them so quickly. You weren't aware the man in front of you was a siren, enchanting you with his honeyed voice.

"Sorry, I'm a little nervous, to be honest." You smiled sheepishly. "What was the question?"

Geto chuckled, his laughter gently pulling you back in. "Never mind. Just relax, my dear. I can do all the talking if you want." He grinned when you nodded. "There's really nothing for you to be nervous about. I don't bite." He watched the haze reappear in your vision, your body relaxing again.

"Why don't you come a little closer?" He tilted his head, eyes on you as you moved forward. "Don't be shy. I'd have you right on my lap if it was up to me."

"I'd like to be on your lap, too." The words fell out of your mouth before you could think. In fact, you were having trouble following any train of thought at all, but your response pulled you out of the haze enough to feel the embarrassment of that response. "Sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Don't worry about it." Geto's words instantly calmed you. "It's kind of cute, actually. I love it when people are honest with me about their feelings." You relaxed again, his soothing words the only thing echoing in your head as you mindlessly moved forward. "It shows trust. Do you trust me?"

"Yes." This time your answer didn't break your trance.

"Then come here." He smiled. "Come be my mindless pet for a little while and sit on my lap, hm?"

Your body moved itself to him, taking a seat on his thighs. His hands instantly found your hips, his warmth seeping into you.

"You just fall so deeply for me, don't you?" He whispered into your ear. His speech was now saturated with his siren sound, far more intense than anything you'd ever heard. You didn't have a chance of resisting even his normal voice. This was certainly far more than you could handle. But that was the point. To have you stupid and horny and bouncing on his cock because he told you to.

"You're so easy to manipulate. Just a few short sentences and you're on my lap." His hands slipped under your shirt, feeling your bare skin. "You wanted this, didn't you? You were desperate for me to notice you. For me to take advantage of you. Nod your head, darling."

You obediently nodded, your mind nothing but a swirl of his essence. His voice, his touch, and his scent amplified as you fell deeper into the trance with every word he spoke. Your vision was blurred, your mind no longer processing anything that wasn't the siren whispering in your ear.

"That's it. So good for me." Geto chuckled softly as his hands roamed up your torso. "You're horny, aren't you? You want to give yourself to me?" You simply nodded, allowing him to touch you wherever he pleased.

"Take your clothes off." He watched as your body stiffened, removing your shirt, then standing to remove your pants. You turned to face him, obeying again when he commanded you to straddle him.

"Just look at how hazy those eyes are." He held your cheek, and you nuzzled into it. He could practically see the little hearts in your pupils as you hung into his every word. "You're so pretty when you're like this. Did I ever tell you that? How fucking pretty you are staring at me like that?"

Geto began touching you again as he spoke. "It was driving me crazy to watch how deeply you fall during my sermons. God, I've been wanting to fuck you ever since you first attended." He toyed with your nipples, watching your expression become even more lustful. "Did you know how focused I was on you?"

You silently shook your head, your whole body tingling with pleasure the longer he spoke. His hands found your sex, rubbing you as you gasped. He smirked in response.

"Of course you didn't. You're always so attentive while I speak. Even now, you're a lost little lamb, and I'm a wolf dressed as a shepherd." Geto gathered the essence from your slit on his fingers and brought them to your lips.

"Open." He commanded. You obeyed, parting your lips and sloppily licking his fingers clean. Drool decorated your lips and dripped down his hand. He grinned at how far gone you were.

"Wouldn't you love to fuck yourself on my cock?" Geto smiled, slowly tugging at his robes to show more of his chest. You nodded eagerly as he guided your hands downward, exposing his dick. "Go ahead, darling. Make yourself cum."

His body was so warm. Touching him felt so good. Hearing his voice was like ecstasy. You let yourself fall deeper and deeper under his spell simply because it felt amazing. Your body was alight with desire, yearning for more of him as you lined yourself up with his cock.

His hands pressed on your hips, digging into your skin as you slowly pushed onto his cock. Pleasure rushed through you, although you couldn't pinpoint the source with your mind scrambled like this.

"That's it, baby. Just a little more, you can take it." Geto stroked your cheek, watching your lust-heavy eyes as you hung into his every word.

"God," he hissed as you bottomed out, feeling yourself stretch around his cock. "It's like you were fucking made for me. You feel so fucking good." Geto thrust his hips, sending a wave of bliss to your core.

"Did you forget?" He chuckled. "Your instructions were to make yourself cum." Your expression was blank, but you nodded slightly. "Or do you need to fall deeper for me? Don't tell me I'm not enough for you." Geto laced his words with more of his siren enchantment, your head finally dropping onto his shoulder, completely entranced.

Your mind swirled with the desire to please him. Your body felt heavy, but the touch of his deft fingers kept you buzzing with pleasure. He was everything. This feeling was everything. You would do anything for him. Just his smooth voice was enough to make you twitch around him, your eyes flickering open at his next question.

"How does it feel to be mine, darling?" He grinned, watching your head slowly lift.

"So good." You whined, slowly lifting your hips and bringing them down before setting the pace to bounce on his dick. His head fell back, basking in the pleasure the friction created.

"You're so good for me, darling. Keep going. You feel amazing." Geto's fingers found your arousal, rubbing you as you pistoned on his cock. Your pace was quick but erratic. You were extremely sensitive, as heat quickly piqued in your core.

"That's it. You're so close, aren't you?" Your sex pulsed with need, desperate for release as you moved faster. Your core coiled in tension. He was right. You were so incredibly close, but your mind was too far gone to do anything but bounce and let the tension build until it was almost painful.

"You know what's next. You ready?" He whispered in your ear. You nodded and whimpered, weak unintelligible begging slipping from your lips as Geto smirked. His cock throbbed, close to the edge himself as he let you speed up again. He chuckled as your whining got louder, his power over you making him moan into your ear.

"Ok darling. Cum." His voice was hoarse, enchantment thick in the final word as ecstasy exploded within you, obediently cumming all over him. Geto's seed spilled into you shortly after, feeling the clench of your aftershocks as your movement slowed and the mind control faded.

Your body relaxed in his arms as the haze in your mind began to clear. He ran his fingers up and down your bare spine, his cock still buried deep within you.

"Remind me, darling." As he spoke, you drifted back into his trance. "Who do you belong to?"

"You." Just after you spoke, the trance completely dissipated. Your memories since walking into his office were fragmented at best. Panic briefly flew through your brain, unsure of how you ended up stuffed with his cock.

"I'm so glad you feel the same way." Geto's honeyed tone instantly calmed your mind, and you relaxed in his arms once again.

#jjk smut #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto smut #kinktober 2023 #monsterfucktober

[dedfly]

Hi I have an idea in general

I give Shadow Milk cookie Yandere and HYPNOTISM.

Please 🙂

Yandere Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader

Tw: Use of hypnosis, forced relationship, manipulation, mind games(?) cursing

† Oh how he hate, hate what one thing, one cookie he love so deeply just out of his reach

†How can you not love HIM this is just ridiculous. It's not supposed to be that way

† Well lucky you, still plane and simple like all the other cookies

† He just uses his power on you here and there no biggie (*´﹀`*)

† ♪ Some little addition here, some little correct there ♪

† Oh how he want to just control your every step.

† Bleh it's not as fun.

† He wants you not some silly puppet

† So yeah basically he used his hypnosis occasionally. Especially then you get to "feisty"

† What do you mean "How dare he ruined the world and friends you love" ? No, no, no forget these stupid thoughts, this little vermins, he is your lover, your friend and your world

no one else matters

This threads wrapped around your body against, always trapping you. Not letting you wonder too far away. Despite the fact that it is useless, you still try to get out, just like a wild bird caught in a snare.

"Awww. Are you trying to escape from me again?" Shadow Milk Cookie cooed. The way his voice came everywhere and at the same time out of nowhere scared you more than the threads around your limbs.

"I just need to go for walk, I can't be here anymore! I need some air" You squeezed out, your voice breaking, your heart beating wildly in your chest, a lump stuck in your throat from this disgusting feeling. The way he took your freedom, your... Fuck. This bastard did something to your head, it's all foggy and messy. It's like some part are missing and the realization made it even worse. You felt the threads coil around your exhausted body even more tightly, pulling in his direction, an inexorable reminder of your helplessness. You didn't even notice what he is now here.

Oh how you wished that all this was just a bad dream. And instead of claws on your face, feel his soft fingers. Well, here we go again... Something deep down tells you that he wasn’t always like this, but your brain simply refuses-

"Oh what's wrong, blue bird?" he said as if mocking someone, you can't quite remember "Running away from me again~ Didn't I tell you not to be so cruel to me, my love?"

He slowly lifted your head making you look into his eyes before he kissed your lips briefly. All that while you heard in your mind "Y/N, Y/N you silly cookie you should be around your loved ones, never leave him behind." Soothingly like a breeze in your head, making you relax, feeling the same fog in your brain. You thoughts started to disappear, you don't want to fight anymore. It's so stupid to even think about it. Every thought of fighting for your autonomy just slide away from your head like this strings from your body. Leaving you in a hands of your loving boyfriend.

"♪ Good little cookie ♪ Now~ kiss me back. Kiss me back!"

____________________

I wrote it surprisingly smoothly ಠ_ಠ

#crk x reader #cookie run kingdom #crk x you #cookie run #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk cookie x reader #shadow milk crk #shadow milk cookie x you #yandere #yandere shadow milk cookie