#releases from here on out are hereby at my whim

[domme-by-starlight]

University of Mind Control

Part 1.2

a continuation of x

Jenna stared. She’d been prepared for a lot of things, but she had to admit a roommate who looked like a literal succubus hadn’t been on the list. 

Also, she was hot. 

The possibly-a-succubus girl purred, “Hello, roommate.”

“Um,” Jenna responded eloquently, staring at the girl. Her irises were completely black, more like two voids than just dark eyes. Fuck. Fuck this is bad. 

After a moment, the succubus stepped forward. “My name is Morgana Heartbinder. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m - I’m Jenna.” She couldn’t stop staring. I need to break out of this, fast. Must be some kind of magic - it’s way too fast to be natural. 

“Lovely to meet you, Jenna,” Morgana murmured, coming closer and reaching out a hand. Jenna watched, frozen, as it came closer, trying and failing to move away. Her breath was coming faster now, despite her best efforts not to panic. 

Then Morgana’s hand touched her cheek, and burned. Jenna instinctively jerked away, startled, and tried to use the moment to gather some resistance. 

“Shit,” Morgana said. “Are you okay?”

Jenna blinked. In an instant, the girl had transformed from an enthralling demon to a normal-looking, anxious girl. “Um, I’m okay, I was just startled.”

“Are you sure? I forgot how cold most mortals are, I didn’t think, I’m so sorry. Did I burn you at all? I’m sure there’s a healer on staff, we could go find them-”

“No, I’m okay,” Jenna replied hastily. Morgana looked on the verge of panic. “It was just hot, not hurting - at least not for the fraction of a second that you touched me, at least.” She tried to smile reassuringly. “I’m alright, I promise.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Morgana said with obvious relief, but then her face crumpled again. “But- but I’ve fucked it all up now! Father will be so angry, he trained me so long, if I can’t even take my roommate what hope do I have for anyone else? And I was so close, too! No offense,” she added quickly. 

“Uh, none taken. I’m… sure it’ll be okay? Are we expected to take control of other students here?” 

“Well, yeah,” the other girl said as if it were obvious. “It’s mostly temporary, but it gives you important practise. If you’re lucky, you might even get to keep them.”

“Mostly temporary? What does that mean? Uh, also, if it’s okay to ask, what… are you?”

Morgana was still wringing her hands, but she looked calmer, at least. “I’m, I think humans would call me a succubus? And every week one person gets to keep a thrall, based on good classwork and such. Didn’t you learn anything about UMC before you got here?”

“I tried, but it’s not the kind of thing you can just Google. Wait, do you have Google? Are - you’re not from Earth, right? I didn’t miss literal demons hanging around?”

Morgana laughed. “No, all the students are from different universes, I think. If you didn’t know anything about this place, why’d you come?”

“Well, my world doesn’t have any magic, as far as I know. And I just couldn’t turn down that kind of opportunity, honestly.” Jenna didn’t want to mention hypnosis, not yet. Morgana seemed genuine, but there was no harm in being careful. “What about you?”

She grimaced. “My father, mostly. He’s… well, he’s really powerful, and I’m not very good at being a succubus. I think he’s hoping that I’ll somehow become seductive and confident and a proper Heartbinder heir. Who knows, maybe he’s even right.”

“That’s awful,” Jenna said sincerely. “You seem like a lovely person, and I’m sure if you tried you could do really well! But I know what parental pressure can be like.” Jenna didn’t want to dwell on that topic, though. “I should unpack,” she said instead. “We don’t have long till classes start, right? Day after tomorrow?”

“Yeah. First assembly tonight, and tomorrow to explore and make friends. Or slaves. That’s probably why the assembly isn’t for several hours, too - it gives roommates time to figure out their, uh, arrangements.”

Jenna started unlocking her suitcases as they talked. “Will there really already be students under control by the end of the first day? I knew this institution might not exactly be ethical, but still.”

“Oh, yes. I’m sure many of the students are already accomplished mind controllers in their chosen field. It doesn’t last forever, but it’s still a pretty significant advantage to have a thrall this early on.”

“Mm.” Jenna looked up. “Are you planning on trying to control me again?”

Morgana looked torn. “If I don’t enslave my roommate my father will kill me. Sorry, I don’t want to, you seem really nice, I just…”

Welp. “Hm. Could I just pretend to be your slave? Or, like, you technically take control of me but you don’t do anything with it? I just think we could really be friends, and if you control me we’ll never get to find out the proper way.”

“That… might work? And honestly, I’m not very good. I caught you off guard and even then it didn’t work. I just get so nervous that I forget what to say and start shaking and it just never works.” Morgana signed heavily and turned away to start dealing with her own belongings. 

Not good enough. Maybe she’s right, but she nearly had me. Jenna shivered. She really didn’t want to be enslaved, even if Morgana seemed nice. 

She narrowed her eyes in thought. “What if we made some sort of agreement? You can practise on me as much as you like and I’ll help you try to improve, but you only control me during those practise sessions. And maybe vice versa, too? I’d far rather have an ally than spend all year fighting with my own roommate for control.”

She hesitated for a moment, then threw in, “There are plenty of other students, after all, and I’d be happy to help you capture other people if you want.” I can deal with her trying to hold me to that when we get there. Free will first, consequences later. 

“I… you would do that? Honestly?”

“Promise.”

Morgana’s smile was so hopeful that it hurt Jenna’s heart a little. She wanted words with that girl’s father. 

“That sounds wonderful,” Morgana said. “I would love to have someone here I can trust not to be constantly trying to enslave me. To have a… a friend.”

“Then we’re agreed,” Jenna declared, trying not to show her relief. “Friends it is.”

#mine #hypnokink stories #university of mind control #umc #hypnokink #hypnosis #news flash: inductions are hard #so I'm just gonna post this #releases from here on out are hereby at my whim #because writing is hard apparently #send me ideas and thoughts and things! #enjoy!

[rareavian]

Danse Macabre Ch1 (/Prologue)

Chapter One: Parole

"Alea iacta est." The die has been cast. — Julius Caesar

An island floated high above the dark Abyss, enveloped in a shimmering sphere that swirled with iridescent magic like a bubble. The sphere was in fact, the only thing with colour in that place. The sky was pale grey, colorless, like a cold winter morning, and the Abyss below was a sea of black shadows. The island itself was dark gray like ash, its plants were black and the building built from the island—a castle with towers and turrets stretching to the sky like skeletal hands—was white as bone.

Within the building, in the Court of Hell, a gathering of seven robed figures sat in a circle on raised platforms, looking down at their latest Special Case. The room was neither big nor small, its size had no value in a place like this, but there was something about its structure that made the Criminal standing in the centre feel claustrophobic despite the sense he got that the room was too vast, too wide, too open, as if it were just him in a white endless desert, the presence of the Seven Judges meaningless.

The Seven wore robes as white as snow, with hoods over their heads and skeletal masks hiding their faces. Death had a raven skull mask, while Fate's skeletal mask was that of a ram. Luck wore the mask of a young stag. Chaos's mask was the skull of saber-toothed tiger, and Change's was snake skull. Time covered his face with a dragon skull while Magic wore her owl skull mask.

Life was not present, for she waited outside the Courtroom, wearing robes black as the night, with a simple golden mask in place. A fiery iridescent phoenix design danced across her black robes as she stood patiently for the session to end.

Gellert Grindelwald wasn't sure if he was fortunate or not. He fidgeted in the centre of the Courtroom, as Fate read out his offences and the punishment he was to receive for them. He had already finished one and a half out of the three years he was to spend in the lowest levels of Hell. It sounded like a short time, but all who went into Hell knew that a day in Real time was equivalent to a decade in one's mind when one was in the Ninth or Tenth Districts of Hell. Grindelwald had been quite convinced he had spent almost 50 decades in ice and fire when They brought him out. He still didn't know why. And the Judges weren't acting professional at all.

"... For dabbling in the Forbidden Arts, another year in—"

"Keeping in mind that the Forbidden Arts here do not mean the same thing as the misunderstood Dark Magic in your world. We're talking about truly Forbidden Magic here, magic that goes against the Great Laws, such as Death Magic. And I would know," Magic interrupted.

"Of course you would. But really, I approve of your attempts at creating an Undead army with Death's Temptation. Nothing better than an army of possessed corpses to—"

"Chaos! You're not supposed to encourage him!"

"Hey, at least he didn't mess with Soul Magic, right? I mean, look at that Idiot."

"Which Idiot?"

"Oh. You mean The Idiot?"

"Which other Idiot was stupid enough to split his soul eight times and get all of the pieces destroyed before he could put himself together? Even the Train to the Tenth District couldn't bring him to have his soul reforged."

"Technically, the destruction of his soul pieces wasn't his fault. Hey Death, wasn't it that girl of yours who did most of it?"

"She's not a 'girl of mine'. She's my Master."

"Poor Death. One of his Favorites in Limbo, the other stuck in the Living world unable to truly die, and this last one here in Court because someone couldn't stand—"

"How is everything my fault? This wouldn't have happened if Magic didn't favor the three of them along with Death!"

"You were the one who dumped that Prophesy unto that Trelawney Seer. And weren't you the one who wanted to get a kick out of throwing a soul who hasn't finished rehabilitation back into the Living? And don't forget The Idiot and Death's Master were your Favorites as well."

"You're one to talk, Change. The Idiot wasn't supposed to Mark the Girl with a soul piece!"

"Can we get back to the topic at hand? I don't want to spend another week in here like that last time."

Gellert Grindelwald sighed. On one hand, the Judges were acting like immature teenagers, on the other hand, they exuded this aura that made you feel very very small and insignificant.

"Right. Let's cut this whole damn thing short. Life is waiting outside already," Death said and took the parchment that Fate was reading from. "Gellert Grindelwald, it has been decided that since you have been favored by Magic, Chaos, Luck, and recently, Fate..."

"Not to mention Death, who favored you after his Invitation took a liking to you. Of course, you'll only be third best since second best goes to The Idiot and his ultimate favorite is the Girl-Who-Lives," Chaos happily added. Death scowled at him, though the mask covered his expression.

"Anyway, you have been given a second chance at life, on some conditions, since Fate wanted to try releasing you before your time in Hell was up. The conditions are as follows: No killing anyone in the first three years of your new life. No dabbling in magic that Magic considers Dark—she'll give you a list later. No interacting with your other self should you meet him, unless you're under the disguise of someone else. Last but not least, we may hand you a Task later on. You may choose to accept the Task or not. Not accepting the Task simply means that when you die again, you'll be spending five days in Real time in the Fourth District of Hell, which is equivalent to five weeks in your mind. Nothing too severe. Just a bit of Nothing. No fire, no ice or even water."

What wasn't said was that Nothingness was almost as bad as Water. Grindelwald had heard of horror stories of days spent in Nothing. And the thing about horror stories shared in here was that they were 99% truly horrifying, if not an understatement.

"Any questions?"

Grindelwald thought about it. Speaking to Death was not a very appealing idea, especially when at the mercy of his whims but...

"What do you mean by 'other self'?" he asked, then added "Sir?" as a polite afterthought.

"We'll most likely be returning you to a time when your past self is still alive." It was Time who replied. "Do you have any particular time period you'd prefer to be placed in?"

Grindelwald didn't hesitate when he said, "After Voldemort's first demise."

"October 31st, 1981. Sounds good. With Samhain in full swing, the release of magical power upon the Idiot's death due to the backlash of the Killing Curse, and the Fulfillment of the first half of the Prophecy, it would be next to nothing to return him to life," Change commented. "He won't even need to be reborned. The energy of the amount of Soul Magic present on that night would be sufficient to return him to the Living in the body of his adult self."

"But in that case, an Alternate Reality would be created, since this would change the outcome of what has already occurred," Fate observed.

Change grinned. "Precisely. We've already prepared for the probability of this happening anyway."

"Well then. I guess that settles it," Fate said, looking at Grindelwald. "Gellert Grindelwald, we hereby release you from the imprisonment of Hell. You will be given a second chance in life, under the conditions that we have mentioned... Not that you can decline this since I'm not going to allow you that choice. Life will provide you with your body and return you to the Living. Guards, escort him out."

Two Dementors appeared and led him to the huge double doors at one side of the room. The cold they exuded was still present, despite the fact that he had no physical nerves. All sensations that could be possible to experience in this place affected the soul, not the body.

Life met him outside the Courtroom, and led him down a white hallway as the Dementors fled the moment their job was done. They couldn't seem to stand her presence.

As the Courtroom doors closed behind them, Grindelwald thought he heard Change saying, "He's gone! Finally! Chaos, grab some wine. We're going to Limbo for a party."

#Danse Macabre #hp #fanfiction #gellert grindelwald #higher entities are really teenagers with too much power #my fics

[princee-ace1]

In Their Eyes - CH. 36

Ohh, you’re rather an aggressive little minx, aren’t you? Lovely, too.

Alistair x Warden Cousland A love story told in the eyes of their companions and those who knew them.

---

[CH. 36] Ambushed! | Dog

“Oh, thank the Maker! We need help! They attacked the wagon; please help us!” a woman calls out as she runs toward them. As she comes closer, she seems to size up the Warden, and for the briefest moment, the dog caught a hint of a malicious smirk on her lips. Before she and the others could say anything, the woman insists, “Follow me! I’ll take you to them!”

The hound growls after the woman as she runs down the road. Hearing her dog’s warning, the Warden turns to the others and cautions, “Stay on your guard.”

They nod their heads silently and follow after the Warden. When the allegedly-attacked wagon comes into sight, they see the woman nod at the armored elf waiting for them. His eyes turn to the Warden and he smirks. With a single gesture, bandits emerge from behind the wagon, the nearby bushes, and the hilltops – all weapons trained on them. The elf draws his weapons and shouts, “The Grey Warden dies here!”

Immediately, the war hound lunges in attack. With his sharp teeth, he latches onto one of the lackey’s legs and drags him onto the ground. The attacker cries out in pain and drops his weapon as the hound snarls and mauls him.

When the battle is over, it seems their leader is still alive. The Wardens stand over him as Alistair comments, “Well, he’s not half as dead as he looks, is he?”

“Should we finish him?” Sten asks, but the Warden stops him before he could deliver the finishing blow.

“No, these aren’t ordinary bandits. We should at least ask him who sent him,” the Warden states and asks Leliana if she has some rope on her. The bard nods her head and tightly binds the elf. The dog keeps an eye on their hostage as Wynne checks to make sure no one got too hurt from the assault.

Once he catches the assassin stirring, the dog barks for the Warden’s attention. She and the others turn to their hostage, who mumbles, “Mmm… what? I… oh. I rather thought I would wake up dead. Or not wake up at all, as the case may be. But I see you haven’t killed me yet.”

The hound growls as the Warden stands before him, crossing her arms and glaring down at him. He saves them time and introduces himself as Zevran – Zev to his friends – and a member of the Antivan Crows, bought solely for the purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens.

Leliana’s eyes widen when he mentions the crows and informs the Warden that they’re a very powerful and group of assassins, renowned for getting the job done. Clearly, this Zevran failed at that.

Surprisingly, he easily answers every question the Warden asks him with genuine honesty. He tells her who hired him, how he came across the job, and what would have happened were he to succeed. When the Warden questions why he’s telling her all this, he merely laughs. “Why not? I wasn’t paid for silence.”

“Aren’t you at least loyal to your employees?” the Warden deadpans.

“Loyalty is an interesting concept,” he replies, and his tone changes a bit when he realizes an opportunity falls before him. “If you wish, and you’re done interrogating me, we can discuss this further.”

She mutters that she’s listening, and Zevran quickly explains if the Wardens do not kill him, the Crows will. Even if he does turn against them – which he assures her that he won’t – and succeeds, they may kill him for failing the first time anyway. He needs to be with someone the Crows can’t touch – someone like her.

The Warden scoffs. “You must think I’m royally stupid.”

“I think you’re royally tough to kill. And utterly gorgeous,” Zevran confesses. “Not that I think you’ll respond to simple flattery, but there are worst things in life than serving the whim of a deadly sex goddess.”

Alistair chuckles and nudges Sten. “Can you believe this guy—”

“Fine. I accept your offer.”

“What?!” Alistair shouts in objection. “You’re taking the assassin with us now? Does that really seem like a good idea?”

Both Leliana and Morrigan argue that it is, though Morrigan cautions the Warden to examine her food and drinks far more closely from now on. Alistair sighs in defeat and the dog whines with uncertainty as the Warden unties his bindings and extends her hand to help him up.

“I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such a time as you choose to release me from it,” Zevran vows. “I am your man without reservation … this I swear.”

Thanks for reading! ⇷ prev | luna ✩ tip jar ✩ ao3 | next ⇸

#dragon age #in their eyes