#Absolute Hypnosis in Another World

[artforiasenibudayajepang]

20 Manhwa/Webtoon Harem Terbaik untuk Dibaca di Tahun 2023

Tren Terkini dalam Manhwa/Webtoon Harem Terbaik untuk dibaca Tahun 2023 Berita Hobi Jepang – Manhwa, atau komik web Korea, semakin populer di seluruh dunia berkat seni yang indah dan alur cerita yang menarik. Salah satu subgenre yang kerap muncul dalam manhwa adalah harem, yang memfokuskan pada protagonis pria dan hubungan cinta yang rumit dengan beberapa karakter wanita. Dalam daftar berikut,…

[malleleothreesome]

Stage Sex - Fellow Honest x Fem Reader (Part One)

🌟 summary: Fellow convinces you to become his latest star, taking your virginity shibari style in front of a live audience. ༶༶༶ 🌟 warnings: afab fem reader. Porn with plot – if the plot is him convincing you to partake in the porn. I didn't write this with the intent of it being dubcon (in my mind, reader is a willing participant, and I never describe her as otherwise), but please err on the side of caution if you're sensitive to that. It's starring Fellow Honest, after all – he comes prepackaged with manipulation skills. He does use a bit of his UM after reader already consents, and I refer to his magic as hypnosis, playing into the fact that you're obedient to him and he can use you as he pleases. There is a MAJOR VOYEURISM theme to this. He calls you names like "good girl", "slut" and "whore". In part 1 he helps bring you to clitoral orgasm for the first time while he jerks himself off. Also a few lines of cunnilingus and some fingering. Shibari bondage starts in part 2, additional warnings will be listed there. Please let me know in the comments if I missed a warning or tag idk I haven't written something of this caliber before. ༶༶༶ 🌟 word count: 7.2k words because I'm DERANGED ༶༶༶ 🌟 song: Carousel - Melanie Martinez "And it's all fun and games... 'til somebody falls in love"

Fellow Honest’s tail swung back and forth. He had certainly done his research, and all of that hard work would finally pay off. He watched as you entered the theme park, skulking in the shadows behind the rest of the students. You struck him as an outcast—no friends, no family. A beautiful girl from another world, with a figure that would make even the Gods themselves lust after. The only magicless human girl at the all boy’s magic college. Nothing to lose. How perfect.

“Hello, Miss…?” Fellow’s eyebrow raises as he tilts his head, leaning towards you on his cane. His calculated, fox-like eyes drink in every inch of you. Extending his right arm out to you, he welcomes your hand into his.

“Y/N,” you answer, a bit startled at his overt friendliness. Yet, you allow his white satin glove to grasp firmly around your hand. 

“What a lovely name for such a breathtaking woman.” He bows forward to kiss your hand, maintaining fierce eye contact. In one swift motion, he turns toward his amusement park, wipes his mouth clean of your touch, and proudly waves his arm in the air to show off his property. 

“Miss Y/N! Welcome to Playfulland!” he boasts. He turns back toward you, weaseling his way deeper into your personal space. “It is an incredibly rare occasion to welcome someone as beautiful as you into my humble little park.”

You dismiss his praise with a flick of your palm and a shake of your head, desperately hoping not to blush. “Oh, no need to be so modest, dear. A shape like yours could make any man fall in love. I doubt the students at the college are the only ones that appreciate it.” A sly smile is plastered on his face while his eyes continue to look you up and down with intention. Your mind runs wild as you try not to absolutely melt into his praise. “Are you sure you’re not a talking doll? It’s a marvel that a woman so flawless could exist.”

You smile softly and look to the ground, cheeks burning. You tuck a strand of hair awkwardly behind your ear, stalling for composure. How are you supposed to respond to a handsome, magnetic stranger saying all the right things? Not a single soul has spoken so highly of you since you found yourself trapped in this world, forced to attend Night Raven College. Your growing ego leaves you no choice but to soak it all in.

“Tell me, Miss Y/N. Have you ever thought about becoming a performer?” He doesn’t pause to let you answer. “Why waste your valuable early 20’s by studying and attending lectures and surrounding yourself with pathetic boys? Women as blessed as you are don’t need a degree. Surely a wealthy man can care for you far beyond a measly degree. And while you wait for him, why not fill your days with fame, riches, and adoration from performing on my stage?”

You stand in a stunned silence. This guy isn’t holding anything back, is he? Charm and charisma ooze from each syllable, making your heart race. It feels a little wrong, basking in the praise of a stranger like this. But you feel beyond lonely and underappreciated at NRC. You long to feel wanted and cared about. Why not give this attractive, complimentary man a chance?

Before you know it, the fox beastman's arms are wrapped around your torso, pulling you closer to him. "Oh, how rude I am!" he exclaims. "I haven't even given you my name."

"Allow me to properly introduce myself." With a quick spin of his heels, he steps back and bows, taking your hand once again. "The name's Fellow Honest, owner of Playfulland." He lifts his head, keeping his eyes locked on yours. "But please, you're welcome to call me whatever you'd like." He winks.

You could have sworn you felt a physical spark. Suddenly lightheaded, you pull your hand from his grasp, heart pounding in your chest. You can't take your eyes off him. You can't tell if your nervous system is trying to tell you to run towards or away from him. The longer you stare into his fire-orange eyes, the weaker your knees feel. He’s so close you can feel the heat emanating off of his body—is his perfume made of magic? 

Something inside of you urges you to step away and re-evaluate. "Uh... I should probably get back to my friends," you stammer, trying to get your legs to move. "I'm sure they're wondering where I went. Thank you for the, uh, offer, though. I’ll think about it."

Fellow's arm is suddenly around your waist yet again, his fingers pressed firmly against your lower back as he pulls you close. Your eyes widen and your breathing hitches as you make contact with his chest. You feel his lips brush against your ear, and he whispers, "I have to insist, my dear. My employees are quite skilled, but you'd be the best thing that has graced my stage in years. It would be an honor to have someone of your caliber work for me."

His proximity. His hot breath on your ear. His possessive touch digging into the soft skin of your back. You feel a familiar flutter deep in between your thighs—you like this. You want to protest, to push him away, but the electricity between you is hypnotizing. His aroma—sweet wine and fresh roses—only adds to the spell, drowning out all logic and giving way to your body’s desperate pleas to take the lead.

"I have an office inside the theater where we can discuss this further, if you'd like," he purrs, and you can feel his lips curve into a smirk against your skin. "And please, take all the time you need. You're welcome to stay the night. We have luxurious rooms available—a small taste of the lifestyle you’d have if you make the right choice. I'll have someone escort you back to campus if you change your mind."

Your eyes dart around, desperately looking for a familiar face—a way out. Where the Hell did Ace go?! What about Leona or Trey–surely your upperclassmen should have stuck around to make sure the only magically defenseless student isn’t being taken advantage of by any sexy, suspicious strangers. Not to mention the fact that you’re the only girl at school. Chivalry must be extinct in Twisted Wonderland. You feel your heart drop: maybe they never cared about you at all.

Fellow's tail flicks in excitement as he watches your expression. Your eyes are wide and panicked, and he can sense your desperation. He smothers his own smile as your body language slowly indicates defeat. How utterly effortless! He has you right where he wants you. You're his to play with, and no one is there to stop him.

"Come now, dear, it won't hurt to indulge a little," Fellow coos sweetly. Your brain short circuits, blocking all thoughts unrelated to the electrifying feeling of his slender fingers dancing along your waistline. "You're already here! Why not stay and have some fun?" His lips find their way to your neck and you let out a soft gasp as a pulsing warmth radiates from your cunt.

"Fine," you finally whisper.

Fellow chuckles victoriously against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. "I knew you’d be such a good girl." He spins you around, the sexual tension forcibly dissipating as he rips you from your lascivious thoughts and begins walking you down the cobblestone path. His hand rests on the small of your back, and his cane taps merrily against the concrete as you go. Your mind is still reeling from the shocking exchange, and you can barely match his pace as he escorts you to the grand theater. 

You stifle a blush as you hear park goers whisper amongst themselves, eyes glued on you, mouths falling open. "Who is that? Is she a celebrity?”

“She looks like a supermodel,” a woman chimes in, her tone covetous. 

Fellow would never waste an opportunity for free advertisement. He turns his head toward the group as you both keep walking. “Stick around ‘til after dark and you might just see this beauty show it all off on my grand stage!” He shouts, waving his cane in the air. 

The two of you enter the theater and Fellow wastes no time leading you up the stairs toward a private hallway. His hand never leaves your waist. You pass several doors before reaching a pair of large, heavy wooden doors, which Fellow opens with ease.

You can't help but gawk at the size of his office. A massive, ornate wooden desk sits in the middle of the room, flanked by shelves lined with books and trinkets. There's a fireplace and two plush leather couches, as well as a small bar in the corner of the room.

"Please, make yourself at home," Fellow says as he closes the door behind him. He makes his way over to the bar, grabbing a bottle of wine with two glasses. You perch on one of the leather couches and he joins you, placing the wine and glasses on the table in front of you. As you inspect his office, you can't help but feel drawn to a mannequin adorned with a gorgeous bejeweled brassiere and matching pants—if there’s enough coverage to even call them that. Your faces heat up, and you quickly turn away.

"Beautiful, isn't it? One of my favorites," Fellow says, following your gaze. "Unfortunately, no one has had the pleasure of modeling it just yet." He furrows his brows in disappointment. He pops the cork on the wine bottle and begins to pour. "Maybe tonight will be the night. How lucky for me that I have the perfect model."

Something is starting to feel very exciting about all of this. You’ve never had an opportunity to wear such a costume. After being enrolled in Night Raven College only because Crowley didn't know what else to do with you, being here is starting to feel quite freeing. And the way Fellow looks at you… you’ve never felt more attractive. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, gifting you the courage and desire to be exactly who he believes you to be.

"Would you like to try it on?"

The question catches you off guard. He's now looking smugly at you. Your cheeks flush red, but you hold eye contact.

"Wh-what?"

"The outfit, Darling," Fellow says, nodding his head toward the mannequin. "You can try it on if you'd like." You take a long sip of red wine, savoring the smooth fruitiness. It immediately goes to your head, and you can't help but down the rest of it.

"Come now, Love," Fellow says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "We both know what you want."

You stare at the outfit and then back at him. Your whole body feels like it's on fire. This is a bad idea, right? Or is it?

"Okay," you say, almost surprising yourself.

Fellow claps his hands together in delight. "Wonderful! Don't worry, I'm a gentleman—I'll look away while you get changed."

You make your way over to the mannequin, wobbling a bit from the alcohol. The bra is a dark purple while the jewels are varying shades of blue, making the whole outfit glitter like the night sky. The "pants" are a matching, dark purple lace thong, with ribbon and jewel embellishments. There is a sparkling, sheer miniskirt attached, more of an accentuation than actual coverage. You reach out to touch the fabric, marveling at how silky it feels. It's so sexy. Imagining yourself wearing it on stage in front of thousands of people, with everyone staring at you, craving you, makes you a bit wet with excitement. Maybe you do want this.

You look at Fellow one more time to ensure he’s not peeping.

Reader, take note that Fellow is, in fact, peeping—through his pocket mirror that he is blocking with his body. He’s far too good at this. 

Feeling secure, you unbutton your uniform blazer, letting it slide off your shoulders and onto the floor. You undo the buttons of your shirt next, slowly exposing your bare chest. 

Fellow bites his lip as he stares into the mirror, watching in awe as you undress. Your body is even more incredible than he could have imagined. 

You slip off your shorts and underwear next, leaving you completely naked except for your bra. Your hands fumble a bit as you unhook the costume, letting it fall to the floor. 

Fellow feels his pants tighten. 

You can feel yourself getting more aroused, the excitement of being naked in a room with a stranger—soon to show off a revealing costume—starts to go to your head. You grab the brassiere off the mannequin, throwing your arms through the loops, eager to see if you look as good in it as you hope you will. 

Fellow takes his sweet time watching in the pocket mirror. He grins, pleased with your inexperience, watching carefully so that he can see every inch of your struggle, savoring in it. “Oh, how easy this is,” he thinks.

After finally finding the right combination of hooks and clasps, you manage to get the brassiere fastened. You gasp softly, feeling the cool jewels press against your nipples through sheer fabric. You can't help but feel like it was made specially for you. The way it pulls your boobs together to create perfect, plump cleavage gives you actual pride. You shimmy the panties on next, loving the way the lacy fabric rubs against your clit as you pull the thong taut against your hips—a tingling reminder that your body is desperate for any sort of friction that may be interpreted as pleasure. You give your ass a little shake as you put on the skirt, reveling in how good the material feels as it brushes against your bare skin. Engrossed in your own experience, you’re completely unaware that you're giving Fellow quite the show. 

He can't help but lick his lips, reaching down to massage his groin through his slacks. 

You spin around and strike a pose for your imaginary crowd, feeling powerful. 

"Are you ready, my love?" Fellow asks, startling you out of your daydream. 

He pockets his mirror and adjusts the front of his pants, trying to disguise his erection as best he can.

"I'm ready."

"Show me what you've got," he says. You both turn around to face each other and he gasps, his eyes widening and mouth falling open.

"My goodness, darling," he whispers. "You're exquisite."

The way he's looking at you makes you feel like the sexiest woman alive. You take a step forward, heart pounding in your chest. Fellow stands up, taking his cane in his hand. He walks over to you and stalks circles around you, gazing up and down as though inspecting merchandise. You yelp as his cold, hard cane smacks your ass.

Finally he stops directly in front of you, meeting your gaze once again. "Oh, Darling, you're an absolute vision." He cups your cheek with his hand, rubbing his thumb across your lips. He wears a sinister smile, and you feel your mouth run dry as you finally realize how sharp his fangs are. You're almost certain he can tell how turned on you are right now.

He pulls away to replenish your wine glass.

"I can't wait to see you dance, my dear. You're going to be a star." He gazes dramatically into the distance, waving his hand like he’s envisioning your name written in dazzling lights. He hands you the full glass and you gulp it down greedily, eager for the liquid courage. You don't even care that this man is a total stranger—it actually makes it hotter.

"Oh, one more thing," Fellow says. He stands up and walks over to the mannequin, opening a drawer next to it and grabbing a matching set of lacy thigh highs. He kneels down in front of you, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he slips the stockings onto your feet. He repeats the process on your other leg, taking his time to run his hands up and down your thighs.

You bite your lip and look away, feeling embarrassed by how wet you are. He's so close to where you want him to touch you, and you're not sure how much longer you can stand this before giving in and doing something you might later regret.

Fellow stands up, his hands gliding up your legs as he does. He gently grabs your chin and tilts your head up so you're forced to look at him.

"What a naughty little minx," he whispers. "You're practically dripping." He smirks, once again bearing his fangs in the process.

Your eyes widen, cheeks flushing pink.

Fellow laughs. "Oh, there's no use hiding it, love. I can smell it." He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your arousal. "It’s heavenly."

God dammit. You can't help but throw your head back in frustration from being outed so easily. Never underestimate a beastman's sense of smell.

He lets go of your chin and steps away from you. You let out a shaky breath you didn't realize you were holding.

"Don't worry, darling," he says, making his way back to the bar. "I'll make sure you're properly taken care of." He refills his glass and downs it. He doesn't know how long he's going to be able to wait until he's inside you.

You try to get back on track to a more... professional topic. "So, is this the type of outfit I would wear if I were to perform?" You try to sound as innocent as possible.

Fellow laughs a slow, deranged, almost maniacal laugh that makes your skin crawl. "Oh, no, darling. Outfits like these are reserved for the backup dancers. With the plans I have for you, you'll be wearing far less." He sets his wine glass on his desk and opens one of the drawers, pulling out a roll of thin, dark brown rope. Your heart pounds in your chest as he walks toward you, unraveling the rope as he goes.

You stumble backwards instinctively and even in your drunken haze, you start trying to take note of your surroundings and look for the exit. "Is this a joke?" you ask, trying to sound as calm as possible. "You know you don't need to tie me up if you want me to stay, right?" You try your best to reason with him and hope to God you didn’t put yourself in harm’s way.

"Oh, I'm not tying you up to get you to stay, Miss Y/N." He puts on his most pleasant and agreeable facial expression, lips contorting into an innocent cat-like smile, eyes crinkled as he feigns benevolence. "It smells to me like you'd do that all on your own. Am I correct?" He tilts his head toward you and gazes into your soul with piercing, knowing eyes. 

He makes a show of walking over to the door and opening it, waving his hand through the open air of the doorframe. "Make no mistake, I'm certainly not forcing you to stay here. You are welcome to leave right now. I'll even let you keep the outfit, if you’d like." He gives you a knowing smirk and continues to hold the door open.

You gulp, feeling the familiar heat between your thighs grow stronger. Your mind is racing, trying to think of every possible rationalization to feel safe staying—anything to get your pussy the relief it deserves. If he really was a predator—you try to reason with yourself—you'd probably be dead by now. And he was right, you do feel like you could get off, just from being tied up. Your body seems to be the decision-maker here, and it’s telling you to stay.

You shake your head at his offer. "No, I'm good."

"Wonderful," he purrs, his expression darkening. He slams the door shut and turns the lock, letting the thud of the door ricochet through your body. "Now then! The reason I am tying you up is for your performance. Just a few short hours until showtime!" He steps forward, closing the gap between you. He runs his fingertips down your bare arm, stopping to wrap them around your wrist. You shiver at his touch, your body instinctively leaning toward him, yearning for more. Your face flushes red with embarrassment and arousal. You don't understand how he's able to turn you on so easily.

"You see, my dear," Fellow begins, his voice soft and seductive, "I'm not the only one who's been watching you hungrily." You feel his hot breath on your neck as he brings his lips close to your ear. "Believe me, Doll, they're going to love what they see." He takes your hand in his and places it on the bulge in his pants. His cock throbs beneath his clothes and your eyes widen at how big he is.

"I'm not just a magician, but a master of hypnosis as well," he elucidates. 

He's never before been so forthcoming in his whole career, but there's just something about you that makes him want to be upfront. 

Truthfully, he hasn't had to use any hypnosis magic at all to persuade you. No, you wanted this on your own. Despite your innocence and reluctance—you wanted him. His cold heart skips a beat at the thought. He releases your hand and once again cups your cheek. He pushes a thumb past your lips and forces you to suck on it. A deep moan escapes his lips as the sensation of your soft tongue against his thumb runs straight to his aching loins. Removing his thumb from your mouth, he slides it down your chin, tracing your jawline before moving to your neck. You arch your back and press your body against his, feeling the tip of his thumb press along your jugular, sending chills down your spine.

"And I can assure you that by the time I'm done with you, you'll be the perfect little hypnotized whore." You shudder as his tongue traces the side of your neck—it feels so good. He continues to drag his tongue up to your ear, and you moan loudly as he suckles your earlobe. Your knees are giving out, so you wrap your arms around him for support. "That's the beauty of my magic, love. No prior experience necessary. I'll ensure you put on the show of a lifetime. Simply allow yourself to enjoy the ride." You whimper softly, unable to form coherent thoughts or speak intelligibly, too caught up in the way he's pleasuring you.

"But don't worry, Love," he says, his voice low and raspy. "You'll still remember everything when we're done."

Your head is dizzy, trying desperately to process his every word. You can't stop yourself from moaning as his hands continue to explore. As far as the current circumstances go, nothing matters, as long as he’s making you feel this damn good. He takes his time groping and squeezing wherever—and whatever—he can get his greedy hands on, relishing in the opportunity to touch your perfect frame.

Looking into your eyes, he's suddenly overcome with emotion—unusual for him. This isn't something he's ever done with his employees, but there is a twinge in his chest willing him to do it. Perhaps—just this once—he can deviate from the script. Fellow hungrily crashes his lips against yours, kissing you passionately. You melt against him, opening your mouth to grant him entry. You feel yourself losing control as he dominates your mouth, exploring every inch with his tongue. You grip onto his hair, pulling him closer. His fangs lightly graze your bottom lip and it makes you shiver. The way he kisses you is so possessive and needy, and it's driving you wild. You've never been kissed like this before. His hands travel down your body and grip your ass tightly, causing you to yelp. Your hands claw at his blue coat and green vest, desperately trying to remove his clothes so you can feel his bare skin. He growls into your mouth before breaking the kiss.

"Eager little thing, aren't you?" he murmurs against your lips.

You nod in response, gasping when he suddenly pulls away. Seeing how needy you are, he smirks, delighted at how much you want him.

"Oh, Darling. Why don't you save that for the audience?" he teases. "You're going to put on a good show for them, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'll do my best. I promise I'll make you proud," you gasp, feeling even more aroused by his words.

"That's a good girl." Fellow paces the room, circling you like a vulture. You can feel his eyes on you and can't help but squirm under his gaze. He grabs the rope from earlier, stopping right in front of you. His cane appears in his grasp, seemingly out of thin air. "Such a perfect little slut, so eager to please. I bet you'd do anything I asked you to, wouldn't you?" he asks, spinning his cane with the flick of his fingers, utilizing his hypnosis magic for the first time that day. He needs to ensure your loyalty lies with him.

"Yes." You answer without reluctance.

Fellow's cane magically disappears from his hand. "Such a good little whore." He takes a strand of your hair in his fingers and twirls it before gently tucking it behind your ear. "Now, a few more formalities before we get you ready for the stage. Shall we?" You flinch at the sound of him smacking the rope against the floor, like he's trying to command a circus animal.

Your mind is fuzzy, body practically burning with desire—you don't even notice him guiding you to his desk. He bends you over the hard wood, your breasts and stomach pressing against the cool surface. He presses his body against yours, his erection grinding between your ass cheeks, and you can't help but moan. Fellow rips off his gloves, tossing them aside. His right hand snakes around your body and reaches into your panties, his fingers rubbing against your wet clit. He slips a finger inside you—finally.

"My, my…" he whispers. "So wet for me already. You’ll look so beautiful when you're on stage for everyone to see. My precious little toy."

Your breathe heavier as he continues to fuck you with his finger, tantalizingly slow. Just as you open your mouth to beg for more, he slips his finger out of you and slams a contract on the table in front of you.

"I need you to sign this first. Standard contract," he says casually. "This is a business, after all." He drops a pen within your reach. All the while, he continues grinding against you, his clothed cock rubbing against the sheer fabric of your panties, further tantalizing your throbbing clit. "Go ahead, Darling. I can't wait to show you off."

You sign your name on the dotted line, quickly dismissing what seems to be the final roadblock in your path to pleasure. There's nothing else in your psyche than how badly you need him to fuck you. Your pussy aches with desire—you can't wait any longer. "Please. Please, fuck me," you whimper, begging him to give you what you want.

"Oh, Darling," he purrs. "All in due time."

Fellow leans in close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "I wonder how many people will come tonight just to see this pretty little body of yours?" he asks. "How many men and women will stare at you, touching themselves as you writhe in pleasure? I bet you can't wait for them to see how much of a needy little whore you are. You were born to be a star." His voice is soft and seductive as he plays on your desperation.

"Now. Let's get you out of these clothes." He expertly unhooks your bra with a single hand. With a swift yank, it falls to the floor, revealing your perfect tits, hard nipples on full display. "Beautiful. So deliciously plump and round, my flawless doll." 

You're still bent over the table as his fingers snake into the elastic waistband of your skimpy skirt and thong. He pulls it taut, ready to tear it right off of you... but he hesitates, remembering its one-of-a-kind value. Squatting slightly, he gently pulls your skirt and panties to the floor, utilizing the opportunity to bask in the aroma and view of your now-exposed pussy. He grabs your thighs where the stockings are and, quite impatient, rolls them down as his fingernails trail lines down the flesh of your legs in the process. He guides your feet out of each leg hole, revealing your full nudity. Seeing your juices glisten makes his eyes light up, mouth curling into a grin. His mouth waters and he inhales deeply, savoring your sweet scent. He can't help but lean for a taste, his tongue gliding against your folds and lapping up your essence. Your knees buckle as his warm, wet tongue explores your deprived cunt. Nothing has ever felt so good. Your entire body trembles and you cry out in pleasure. He keeps his hands firmly planted on your ass, holding you in place as he continues to lap up your pussy. It feels so good, it's almost painful. He pulls away after a moment and you whimper at the loss of contact.

"So, tell me, Love. Are you a virgin?" he asks with a sneaking suspicion. He traces his fingertips down your spine, awaiting your response.

You shudder, the feeling of his fingers on your bare skin is so tantalizing. "Yes," you answer, unable to hold back your excitement.

Fellow's eyes widen, surprised by how easy it was to get you to admit that. He smirks, continuing to caress your back. "Ah, perfect," he hums. "What a privilege it is to deflower you." He reaches for his phone on his desk and utilizes the speech to text feature to say one thing: “We’ve got a virgin.” He clicks the display off and gives you a wink. "The marketing team will start advertising for a very special show tonight. I wonder how many people will come to watch me break in a virgin? I'm sure we'll sell out! An incredibly rare specimen indeed."

His words send a chill down your spine. The thought of thousands of people watching you lose your virginity excites you even further, and you find yourself becoming increasingly aroused. Your whole body is hot—you can't help but squirm as your juices slowly drip down both legs. You shudder, picturing an entire audience getting aroused, their attention rapt on you. Just the thought of how many people will want you... all of those horny people, with their eager bodies and impatient erections at the sight of you losing your innocence. A hot sensation pools deep in your belly and your clit throbs with need. You roll your hips back toward him, wordlessly indicating your desires.

He pockets his phone, delighted that the plan is progressing so flawlessly. "Tell me, my dear, have you ever orgasmed before?" You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, and you shake your head. He grins, leaning in closer, his tail swishing between his legs and up onto your throbbing clit. It tickles so good. "Have you ever touched yourself?" Your body heats up, and a wave of shyness washes over you as you attempt to suppress a groan. He already knows the answer, but he wants to hear you say it. He wants you to surrender yourself completely. "What a beautiful thing, modesty…" he muses. "Tell me, Dear. No need to be so shy." Your face is turning a dark crimson, and he's never found something so appealing in all his years.

"No. Not successfully," you answer softly. You've never been able to get yourself off. Your hands would wander as you'd lie in bed, desperate to find some sort of relief, but it never came. You've never had that pleasure before, and you were starting to think you may never experience it.

"Oh, Darling, you poor thing. I'll have to take care of that for you. I know all the tricks.” Hearing the zipper of his pants, you gasp in anticipation. He takes his cock out of his boxers and you feel the flesh of his hardened tip slide over your wet labia. He takes your hand in his and guides it to your clit, teaching you how to circle your fingers around it in the perfect motion.

"Just like that, Love," he whispers, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "You're doing so well. Doesn't that feel good?" You moan softly as he continues to guide you, his free hand on his cock, sliding up and down its length, using your never-ending juices as lubrication. He bucks his hips slightly as he starts to jerk himself off, letting out a quiet moan, teasing himself and rubbing his cock head against the sopping wet folds of your untouched pussy—knowing he has to save it if he wants a fruitful show. The way your face contorts and your lips part with desperate pleasure, he suddenly has to fight himself not to lose control and break your hymen right then and there.

Knowing that Fellow can’t help but touch himself to you amplifies the pleasure even further. Your fingers continue to dance over your clit and for the first time, it feels amazing. Every nerve in your body is electrified, your breath coming in short pants. Your hand feels like it's floating through space as he moves you like a puppet, directing your motions the way that he wants you. He rubs himself a bit faster as he watches you writhing, becoming more desperate and vocal than before. His own lust becomes insatiable. He’s sculpting you into the perfect masterpiece, just the way he likes it—his own custom sex toy.

"Just imagine all those people in the audience," he murmurs. His hand quickens on his cock and he groans. His hand over yours speeds up to match his pace, and he adds more pressure to show you exactly how to pleasure yourself. "All of those hungry eyes on you, craving every inch of you…" His hips jerk slightly and he moans, losing himself to his own dirty thoughts. Your clit is throbbing so painfully that tears begin to form at the edges of your eyes. He has never seen anyone become so intoxicated with the simple idea of him before, and you don't even realize how loud and desperate your moans and cries have become. His face flushes every time you scream his name, and your beautiful expression fills him with the greatest satisfaction, an image forever imprinted in his brain. The sight of you, so eager to please him—he knows now that he'll never let you go.

You feel yourself approaching explosion—the very first time—and your muscles tense in response. "Oh, fuck, every single one of them will be touching themselves, getting off to the sight of you, desperate to be where I am right now. And here you are, moaning my name as I prepare you, just aching for me to bring you to your first orgasm. You'll look so beautiful when I pop that sweet little cherry of yours." 

He groans and bucks his hips, jerking himself off faster and faster. Your clit throbs, ready to explode. "You want to cum, don't you, darling?" His voice is low and husky, and he pants heavily. "Cum for me, darling, cum for me. I want to hear you scream for me." Your toes curl, knees buckling in ecstasy. He guides your hand even faster over your clit. "That's it, Love, just let go." His voice is the sweet encouragement that pushes you over the edge, almost on command. You feel a strange electricity ripple through your leg muscles, a release that exceeds every single thing you thought you knew about pleasure.

Your first true orgasm rips through your body like a tornado, tearing apart any inhibitions and preconceived notions about reality. Everything around you turns bright white as euphoria sweeps through your body, wave after wave leaving you moaning and shaking uncontrollably in his arms. Your legs feel like jelly, and it becomes impossible to hold yourself up. His fingers leave yours, transferring their tight grip to your hair, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him as he fucks himself furiously to the sight of you. You were like putty in his hand, melting and molding according to his wishes—a perfect, brainwashed, fucked-out little slut.

Fellow lets out a strained grunt as he orgasms, painting your ass with his seed. He can't help but sigh in pleasure as he gazes lovingly at the blank and pliant expression on your face as he drains the rest of himself onto you. He sighs as his last spurts dribble from the tip of his cock, admiring how much he's marked you as his. You're still shaking and whimpering as you come down from your high, your face contorted in pleasure, your eyes glazed over and staring into nothing. You look absolutely fucked out, and he takes a moment to admire your blissful expression before finally releasing you from his grip. He gives you a small push, causing you to fall forward onto your hands. He takes a step back to admire his handiwork—your thighs are soaked with your own cum, and your ass is dripping with his.

"Such a good girl," he praises. "You did such a good job for me. You're going to be the best performer I’ve ever had. It's about time we take you to the stage to get you set up, my dear. You’re better than I could have ever imagined.” You can only gasp, too wrecked from your pleasure to respond in words. Fellow grins with satisfaction, memorizing the sight of his seed glistening all over your back, chuckling to himself as he wipes it off with a tissue. He tosses the tissue into a random corner of his office and then helps you find your footing again.

Gently lifting your chin, his gaze softens, mouth opening to form a gentle smirk. His thumb brushes against your trembling bottom lip, a caring and fond expression overtaking his features. 

Your heart leaps into your throat as you begin to question the warmth in his smile and his affectionate gaze. Is your body's chemical response misreading signals, or are you witnessing evidence that Fellow perhaps has a bit more going on than simply taking sexual interest? A new, deeper desire to understand the mysterious man behind the curtain of your own experience begins to bloom in your mind. You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut as his hand cups your cheek. He leans down and places a gentle kiss on your lips and you return it, savoring the way his soft lips feel against yours. It feels so intimate, like a lover's kiss, and your heart flutters in your chest. You pull away and look into his eyes once more, trying to figure out what he's thinking, but you can't read his expression. His face is completely unreadable, granting you no indication as to whether you're making any progress in decoding him.

He takes off his coat and helps you put it on, wrapping you up to ensure your modesty is protected for your short walk to the stage. He takes your hand and guides you out of his office, your legs still shaking from climax.

You walk together in silence, hand in hand, your head still spinning as you try to process everything that just happened. You can't believe how incredible your first orgasm felt, and you're already craving another.

"What are you thinking about, Darling?"

"I'm thinking about how I’ve never felt that good before," you admit, blushing slightly.

Fellow chuckles. "That's very sweet," he says. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'll be sure to give you many more orgasms in the future." His grip on your hand tightens slightly, and you can't help but feel a sense of longing for him.

You continue walking in silence until you arrive at the stage. Fellow stops in front of the stage door and turns to face you.

"Are you ready, Love?" he asks, his voice gentle. He takes both of your hands in his and brings them to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. His carnelian gaze holds yours, his hot breath dancing across your fingers. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Your heart swells and you feel yourself melting.

You nod enthusiastically and squeeze his hands, hoping he doesn't pick up on your nervous, pounding heartbeat. "I'm ready," you affirm, gazing intently into his beautiful, half-lidded eyes, feeling braver and more confident than you have all day.

He flashes a subtle smile. "Wonderful." He gives you one last peck on the cheek before turning to open the stage door. He places his free hand on your lower back and guides you onto the stage, leading you towards the center, where the lighting crew are busy at work. He introduces you and makes a show of presenting you to the crew—holding out your arm like he would for a debutante entering a ball, a prince presenting his chosen partner to a ballroom dance. The crew whistle and holler as you walk onto the stage. All you can do is stand there with the distinct smile of a hypnotized-yet-willing participant in the world's most eccentric 18+ theater. Their ogling is the furthest thing from your mind, as your attention remains firmly rooted on the charismatic manager in your grasp.

"Sorry, Boys. This one is mine. No one can have her but me." He places his hand on the side of your arm and pulls you close to him, draping an arm over your waist possessively.

As you glance up, your breath catches and your heart skips a beat; your adoring, hungry gaze is returned by his, a mirror of your own emotions shining through in his flaming irises. There's something strange about his stare—there always is. His face betrays some of that vulnerability again, an instance where he's truly letting his guard down, a crack in his meticulous and calculated visage. It’s a warm hint of softness that signals what he said to the crew might ring true outside of these walls as well.

Fellow turns back toward the crew as a new scene is placed before them, and within a split second, he resumes his demeanor of a business-oriented gentleman. "One hour ‘til showtime. Make her shine, People! We want the audience drooling the second she gets on stage!" He holds out his hand, his cane reappearing like magic. "Have fun in makeup!" He winks at you, the flick of his head gesturing you away.

Stylists appear behind you, and you reluctantly release your hold on him. He flashes a reassuring smile as you are guided away, a bewitchingly charming smile settling onto his lips. You head backstage, and he turns to get back to business.

Damn, if you made it all the way down here... wow. Thank you so much for spending this time with me. If you enjoyed this, that means a lot to me because this is pretty much just a self indulgent fic I started writing as soon as Fellow dropped without really knowing too much about him. I haven't begun writing part two, but I have my general ideas of where I want it to go. If you have suggestions for part two, please comment or send me an ask, I'd love to hear your thoughts! ❤️ Erica Malleleothreesome

[dotster001]

When You Escape Him; Scarabia

Summary: Yandere Scarabia boys x gn!reader. He adopts a child that looks like the two of you. You run to give you both a chance at life. You never expected him to find you.

CW: Yandere, dark themes, betrayal, somehow Jamil is a shit in both parts, reader gets slapped in Kalim's part, implied hypnosis

Heartslaybul Savannaclaw Octavinelle Pomefiore Ignihyde Diasomnia Non NRC Staff

Three years into your relationship, he had come home and placed a baby in your arms.

"They were left in a box, all alone. And, well, he looks like if the two of us had a child," he sheepishly stared at the ground. "I just, I just figured it must be a gift from the seven."

You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to tie himself to you through this boy. He looked just like him, and you were disgusted and scared.

Until he opened his eyes for the first time, and you found yourself staring into your own.

And you knew. You had to give this child the opportunity for a better life. A life without him.

In the end, your son did the opposite of what he had intended. And the first moment you could, the two of you had escaped.

You’d always known this was a possibility. But when so much time had passed,  you had hoped for the best.

“Y/N!” You heard him before you saw him. His voice was excited as you heard shouts and running feet come your way. You looked down at your five year old, who seemed to have no idea what was wrong, smiling happily as he chewed on the donut you'd given him for being such a good boy at the doctor.

You could run.

But you wouldn't make it far.

And in the split second you took to think about it, a familiar set of bejeweled arms was wrapped around you.

“Y/N! I've been so worried!” He sobbed against your shoulder. Before you could respond, he had stepped away and begun jumping up and down excitedly.

“My baby!” He cried, smiling widely as he scooped up your son, spinning him around and making the boy giggle happily. “You're both safe! I'm so happy!”

Your son was squished between the two of you as Kalim initiated a group hug. Kalim was sobbing, but smiling and giggling. Your son was giggling. The only one miserable was you.

Well, that wasn't entirely accurate. You made eye contact with a very irritated pair of grey eyes. Jamil's face said it all. Even if Kalim was happy, you were absolutely fucked.

Jamil loudly cleared his throat, and Kalim took a step back, gently taking your hands in his own.

“Jamil told me everything. He said that after my father was killed, you were scared that they would hurt our baby. But it's okay! We've fixed all the security problems! He'll be safe now!”

The only thing stronger than Kalim's delusions, were Jamil's deceptions.

Kalim pressed a kiss to the back of each of your hands, before pressing a quick chaste kiss to your lips, one you were too petrified to even pretend to reciprocate.

“I need to do some fatherly bonding with my son, and tell him all about being the Asim heir. But you're going to go home with Jamil. He's going to fill you in on all the safety upgrades we made.”

He stared at you, his eyes full of adoration, before he giggled again, and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“I'll see you when you get home. I love you!” 

He once again scooped up your son, exiting the crowded area to a private limo. You slowly turned to Jamil, who was still glaring.

“I hate you,” you said.

“And I despise you. Let's go,” he said dryly, grabbing your arm and dragging you to the limo he and his men came in.

The first few minutes of the ride were silent. He eventually broke the silence.

“You disgust me.”

“I'm not the one who kidnapped another human being.”

“You were barely kidnapped,” he snapped. “You have the world in the palm of your hand. All you have to do is be an obedient little toy, and he'd give you the stars in the sky, if you asked for it.”

“What good is having the stars if I don't have the freedom to enjoy them?”

He slapped you across the face. “I never want to hear you tell me what freedom is.”

“I hate you.”

“It's mutual. But I don't have to worry about it for much longer,” he sighed. “I've been told to make you “feel safe” by whatever means necessary.”

The full meaning hit you a second too late, as he snatched your chin, and looked deeply into your eyes, his smile smug.

“The one you see before you-”

In your time of need, you'd made a deal. You knew a viper from the desert would drown in the vast ocean. So you gave up your old life in exchange for waiting tables in the undersea Monstro Lounge for the rest of your life. It wasn't anything glamorous, but Azul had promised, in exchange for your free labor, you'd have a nice home, your meals would be taken care of, and he'd get your son into school. Over the last ten years, you'd become so well liked, and well versed with Monstro Lounge policy, that you and Azul had been discussing bumping you up to management. You'd even begun getting closer to Jade. 

Life was good. Except for the stray nightmare, which Jade was now there to help save you from, you could almost forget your past. You could forget him.

Jade was usually the one in charge of stock, and the lounge always picked the best of the best. So Jade would take trips to the surface for ingredients. He always invited you to come with him, but understood whenever you told him you weren't ready yet. He fully believed one day you'd be ready, and that you, him, and your son would have a picnic in a forest. It sounded nice.

After school, your son would come to the lounge, and do homework at the bar, where you, Azul, or the twins, would help. Since Jade was on the surface today, Floyd was the current helper. Though you definitely heard some scheming between the two of them; something about becoming Uncle Floyd. 

Life was so good right now.

“Y/N, can you please see me in the VIP room when you get a moment?” Azul asked. You nodded, finishing off the order you were taking, then dropping it at the bar for Floyd to pass to the kitchen. 

“How's homework going?” You asked, pressing a kiss to your boy’s cheek.

“Good. Uncle Floyd- oops,” your son looked at Floyd in regret, but Floyd was just smiling widely.

“Baby shrimpy and I are doing just fine. Homework will be done by the end of the shift.”

“Floyd, I accidentally-”

“Don't worry baby shrimp. They're gonna make me your uncle. You don't have to pretend,” Floyd said with a happy giggle, mussing your son's hair happily.

“Don't keep Azul waiting too long, Shrimpy. I think it's gonna be good news! I got little shrimp. Everything's good out here!”

You smiled gratefully at Floyd, then made your way to the VIP room.

What you found there froze you to your core. There was Azul sitting in his normal chair, his face set in a grim line. The problem lay with Jamil standing right next to him.

“Where's the kid, Ashengrotto?” He asked dryly.

“I only asked for Y/N.”

“Well, the deal was for both. Get the kid in here.”

“Deal with this first. You don't want him to hate you more than he's going to already,” Azul snapped.

You finally returned to yourself enough to ask in a broken voice, “Azul, why? We have a contract!”

He looked down at his desk, despair filling his features. 

“He offered a deal I can't refuse,” he pressed the button on the desk that summoned the twins. “As of this moment, your contract is void.”

You turned to rush out of the room, hearing Jamil a half second behind you, only to bump into Floyd and your son.

“Shrimpy, what-” he began, before seeing Jamil over your shoulder. “What's sea snake doing here?” His voice held barely concealed rage.

“I'm here for my family,” Jamil said, snatching your wrist, and then your son's. Floyd held tightly onto your son.

“Nah, Y/N’s protected here-”

“Floyd,” Azul said. “Let go.”

Floyd's face went dark. “Huh. Funny how this happens when Jade’s on the surface.”

“What does Jade have to do with anything?” Jamil spat, demanding an answer from you with his eyes alone.

Floyd stared for a moment, before coldly saying, “Don't worry about it.” He leaned in to your son, whispering something into his ear, before leaving the room with a slam of the door.

Azul sighed, and moved from his desk. “I expect you to be gone by the time I get back,” he said tiredly, leaving the room with another slam of the door.

The moment you were alone with Jamil and your son, you broke down.

“Please don't use snake whisper on me again.”

“What's going on! Why does he look like me-”

“Cause I'm your dad, and we're going home. Y/N’s just bitter because they lost,” Jamil said coldly.

“Close your eyes,” you commanded your son, who quickly obeyed, even though he was confused.

“Y/N,” Jamil ran his hands through his hair, as though this was just some minor irritation, not the end of life as you knew it. “I can't just not discipline you for this.”

“Don't snake whisper him.”

“If he behaves, I won't have to. You on the other hand-”

“I'll do anything. That's the reason I ran.”

He paused, and you opened your eyes, hopefully. He seemed to be thinking it over.

“You need to prove you can be obedient.”

“I can.”

“One slip up, and you're going back under.”

“I understand.”

“In the meantime, you have to stay chained up in my room.”

“Okay.”

“And one more thing,” he smiled wickedly. “Kneel.”

“Huh?”

“Beg me for forgiveness. Beg me to not charm you or my son. Prove that you can follow instructions without my help.”

“You disgust me,” you whisper.

“That sounds a lot like defiance,” he sneered.

You took a shuddering breath, and knelt, bowing your head reverently.

“Please, Jamil.”

He slowly made his way to you, stroking your head.

“Good pet.”

You saw a flash of gold, and, suddenly, a portal stood before the three of you.

“Let's go home,” he said with a triumphant smile.

[theprettynosferatu]

CW: Orientation play/conversion. Remember that your sexuality is valid, and conversion is NOT a thing beyond fantasy. Also, fuck "conversion therapy"

“All I’m saying is…”

“Look, you’re speaking out of your ass”, Ava said, barely containing her frustration.

“How am I speaking out of my ass? It has been done and thoroughly…”, he tried to reply.

“Yes, yes, Pavlov, blah blah blah. But you’re talking about something else entirely, not conditioning reactions”

“Not Pavlov, Skinner! Actions can be conditioned too. Look around you! Mobile games, casinos, even the goddamn army uses conditioning to…”

“Can we agree that there’s a difference between conditioning obedience in a controlled setting and whatever the fuck it is you’re suggesting? You’re not talking about tapping on impulse to buy funbucks in a game! You are talking…”

“It’s only a difference of degree, not of kind. With the right combination of techniques…”

“No, there’s a core there that you can’t just… overwrite. Some things can’t be changed. Like… like how you can’t hypnotize someone into doing something they would never do”

“You know that’s bullshit, right? The whole hypnosis thing. You absolutely can make someone do whatever the fuck you want. It’s just a matter of how you approach it. Like, you would never harm a person, okay? But if I change what your idea of ‘person’ is, say, by making it more narrow you would absolutely harm someone I made you see as a not-person. Or maybe you can be made to believe you’re helping them, not harming them”

“That’s some creepy cult shit, dude. And anyway you can’t write a paper on this because a) there’s no evidence and b) doing the research to get evidence would be absolutely immoral. So I say look for another topic and for the love of God don’t go around spewing that bullshit if you want to ever get laid. Oh, speaking of! Linda will be arriving shortly and we have a date night, so please, please try to be a normal roommate and not freak her out. For me, okay?”

“When have I ever freaked her out? Linda loves me! And who knows, maybe she has an opinion on our little debate”

“Dude, she’s an Art student. I doubt she’ll be interested in our weird Psych dissertations”

“Perfect! Fresh eyes!”

“See, that’s the kind of weird shit I-”

The buzzer cut through the air, and a moment later Linda was inside the apartment, all smiles as usual. He took a moment to watch them as they embraced. 

They were almost comical in their contrast. Linda was tall, taller than he was, willowy and slender, her limbs graceful and shapely, her hair a long, flowing river of playful copper that almost seemed to dance on its own volition– with her green sundress she appeared to him as some sort of elven princess ripped from the pages of a fantasy novel and stuck into a mortal world in which she didn’t really fit. Ava, on the other hand, was probably the shortest adult he had ever seen. He might be tempted to call her petite, but that had a connotation of a lithe frame, almost like a tastefully proportioned doll. Ava was the complete opposite of that. Sometimes he felt Ava was an experiment aimed at testing how much of a person’s weight could be tits and ass, held up by strong, thick thighs. He felt quite guilty about such thoughts, and he understood why she wore nothing but oversized t-shirts and hoodies. It was logical: an early, spectacular growth spurt, heightened by her small size, had made her the target of relentless bullying by jealous classmates and awkward come-ons by hormonal teen males. It enraged him, he realized. Ava was beautiful and the cruelty of idiots had made her feel pain about it instead of pride. He made a point to never stare at her, even if he sometimes failed. It made their relationship as roommates a tad hard, he had to admit. 

 

Not that he had a shadow of a shot, of course. Ava had no interest in men.

Unless, of course, he was right in his theory. And he had good reason to think he was.

“So, Linda: Ava and I were having a bit of a debate…”

“Don’t start, dude”, said Ava.

“Oh, a debate! Do tell!” chirped Linda.

“Do you think we can be completely conditioned and changed, or is there some part of us that cannot be modified, no matter what?”

“Huh. Hard one. Like… a soul? I don’t know I buy it. I feel there isn’t really a self, you know? Like… Buddhism. The self is an illusion and all that”

“Come on, you can’t be serious! You can’t change who someone fundamentally is, and it’s sick to even consider it!”, said Ava.

“Well… what if I could prove to you it can be done?”, he stated, barely able to hold back. He know what he was going to do. He had been reluctant, but now it felt like a certainty.

“You can’t, so stop being an ass”, said Ava.

Fine. Game on.

“Linda, I love your socks! Pride socks!”

“Yup!”, said Linda

“What the hell–”, mumbled Ava.

He took a deep breath.

“Linda: rainbow socks…”

She replied in an instant.

“Are for sucking cocks!”

Ava felt as if reality had shifted into some horrible, twisted nightmare. She was about to scream something, anything really, to make Linda take that back before something stopped her in her tracks. Her body heard it before her mind did: her roommate's voice simply commanding her. Watch. 

And she watched. She watched as the love of her life smiled and went on her knees. Ava could do nothing but watch in disbelief and pain. Linda had never been with a man. Ever. 

“I might have… started testing my theories. On you both. Not that you’d remember, obviously”, he stated casually as the beautiful girl in front of him lovingly undid his pants. “I’d say Linda’s sexuality is part of her core self, wouldn’t you? Let’s see how that holds up after the months of conditioning I’ve subjected her to”

He felt guilty, sure; but there was such a high to it, such an entrancing quality to the combination of seeing instant, complete obedience and the final, definitive proof of the truth he had known to be right all along. Was it wrong? Yes. Did he care? Not at the moment. Ava’s eyes were a poem to him. Suddenly he was ripped from his reverie by the soft, loving touch of Linda’s tongue on his dick. He hadn’t even realized he had gotten hard just from the sense of complete power, of total, undeniable conquest. This was a primal, ancient arousal. Ava could do nothing but watch, and he took that sight in. God, he could almost taste it.

Linda moaned. The cock was so beautiful. So perfect. She felt so… silly, like she was now, for the first time, seeing in color and realizing the sky was, in fact, blue. It was obvious. Simple. Natural. Cock deserved worship. Cock deserved devotion. Cock demanded obedience. It was as if it was growing in her mind, taking over more and more of her, pushing who she had been out effortlessly. It expanded. It corrupted. It twisted and shifted all within. Cock. Cock. Cock. She kissed it with reverence, in awe of it. It was all that existed to her. All that mattered. She needed to please it. Needed to feel it throbbing inside her. Needed to be taken by it.

Ava saw her girlfriend slide a hand between her legs and felt nauseous. As much as she knew this wasn’t Linda’s fault, she could feel her heart breaking, her anger rising… and worse, her pussy getting wet. Her body betraying her. She hated him, and she hated Linda, and she hated herself most of all.

Suddenly, Linda couldn’t contain herself. She relaxed her throat, looked up at her Master and took his entire manhood inside her mouth. She almost came instantly. It was peaceful and sexy and just simple, like his cock was the puzzle piece that fit her perfectly, completed her, made her whole. She existed to be conquered, and realizing she was putting his pleasure over her ability to breathe was the final sign of her complete, loving surrender. She let it out, watched it glisten with her spit, and started licking it and loving it and she didn’t know how much came from her own need and how much it was a silent command by the man who had shown her the light. Her mind was too fuzzy to make such distinctions anymore.

He took a deep breath, fighting back the first signs of an orgasm. He needed to make a point.

“Linda… do you love Ava?”

The blonde stopped for a moment, shocked by a myriad of contradictions.

“Yes”, she decided. Her voice was shaking.

“Tell her”

Linda looked at Ava, the woman she had loved above all others.

“I love you…”

“But you have more to say, don’t you?”

“I… hmph… I…”

“Tell her”

“I love you… but… but… I love his cock so much more! Fuck! I need it! I need to feel it, to suck it, to be fucked by it… I’m sorry… but… I love it, I love it, I love it! I want it to fuck my throat, to take my cunt, to ram my ass! I need it! I need to be a slave to it, a whore for it, a fucking living toy!”

“What if you had to choose between Ava and my cock?”

“Fuck her! Sorry, my love… I do love you, but… You can never do to me what… what Master does to me, what his cock makes me feel! I hope I won’t have to dump you but… I would leave you for this cock in a minute! I’d do anything. Anything. Anything!” If she had more to add, her need to serve cock snuffed it. She took it all in with desperation, with total, shameless abandon. She needed to feel... used. In her proper place.

Ava felt a tear roll down her cheek. Her knees buckled in defeat. She didn’t even care. It was all gone. Her life, her love, all gone. And she could feel her eyes drawn again and again to the cock that had destroyed her. She felt her mouth watering.

“Linda, would you say you’re a lesbian?”

“Fuck no!”, she said before immediately wrapping her lips around the cock’s head.  

He felt a swell of pride. Of triumph. He knew Ava sensed the truth as well. He was right. He had proven his point. And now Ava’s full conditioning would take hold. A little bet with himself, making her own mental acknowledgment of his theory her final trigger. She took off her t-shirt. She would never wear it again. No more shame, no more pain about her figure. Only arousal and pride. His gift to her.

She crawled to him on all fours. The girls kissed– but now, they kissed for him, to arouse him. They were lovers, only they both knew there was a higher love. A truer love. Ava looked up at her owner and opened her mouth, greedily awaiting his blessing. Linda used her skillful hands, aiming his cock and teasing it, jacking it off, using just the right amount of pressure and speed. 

No man could resist such a sight.

In a few seconds, Ava was covered in his cum, more beautiful than she had ever been. Linda certainly felt that way, and she licked and kissed her sister slut clean.

He watched carefully, looking for signs of defiance, and finding none. In fact, Linda put his fears to rest with a simple statement.

“Ava, we need to buy you a pair of rainbow socks”

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu !!

[i-smoke-chapstick]

‘THE VALLEY, [hard kinks! hcs]

-GOTHAM!VILLAINS X READER-

⋆ Characters ↬ Oswald Cobblepot, Victor Zsasz, Edward Nygma, Jerome Valeska, Jervis Tetch

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; hard and unusual kinks hcs with the gotham villain men

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!villains x female reader. PURE PORN like this is absolutely filthy and descriptive. Some of these are probably too creative and WAY out of character, but oh well. I need to practice my smut writing skills and what better way to do it then with some short scenarios of our boys ? HARD KINKS (all of them are too kinky for there own good) sadomasochistic sex warning for victor and jerome,,, and (sort of?) non-consensual hypnosis warning for jervis, somnophilia and bondage warning for ed. controlling and degrading behavior.

𝛰𝑆𝑊𝐴𝐿𝐷 𝐶𝛰𝐵𝐵𝐿𝐸𝑃𝛰𝑇

♫ “Obey, like I’m your master babe.” The Valley by Miguel

He has a habit of leaving in the mornings. He’s a gangster, a crime lord. He loves his job…you think. But it’s hard. Especially seeing him go. Which is why when the two of you fuck, he makes it worth your while.

Yes, he’s shy. He despises indecency. He doesn’t fuck, he makes love. At least, that’s what he likes to think, so you let him.

But you know better. Oswald can’t control anything about himself. The man is impulsive and spoiled. And when he wants you to feel something, you feel it. For better or for worse.

Which is why when he’s awfully pent up and sexually frustrated, you reap the benefits of the king of gotham’s cock pistoning into you. He needs to feel wanted. He needs the two of you to feel loved. He thinks the two of you are sweetly and slowly fucking in his mind. But in reality?

His thick length is hammering into you, selfishly ignoring your pleas. No, he gets drunk on them. Even if he doesn’t want to admit how obscene he’s being.

You’ll feel his sticky tip align with your pussy. He means to enter you slowly, but before you know it, he’s letting himself go. Every inch of his cock is filling you up, taking you in. His eyes are rolling back as he feels you clench around him, and he tries to push all the more unsavory thoughts out of his head.

Thoughts of you tied up. Worshipping him. Unable to resist him. Thoughts of you riding his thighs, while he gives the order to shoot someone dead. The idea of you bending to him, being a good servant. Kissing his shoes, groveling and kneeling. Degrading you.

His fingers sink into the fat of your thighs and ass, clawing at any part of you he can grasp.

His mother taught him better, he reprimands himself. But how can he stay composed and loving when you look at him like he’s the only man in the world?

Oh, he wants to make you feel good, loved, and have this be an act of intimacy. It’s what he was raised to believe sex was for. But he also wants you on your knees, choking on his length, collared like a dog.

𝑉𝐼𝐶𝑇𝛰𝑅 𝑍𝑆𝐴𝑆𝑍

♫ “I wanna fuck like we're filming in the valley.” The Valley by Miguel

Victor is always upfront with what he wants. And he’s been around the block one too many times. He’s fucked around quite a bit. He’s a ladies man, what can he say?

Which is why vanilla sex is entirely boring to him. Well, maybe not entirely. Not with you.

But theres something so special about mixing physical pain, his sole desire, with you, his other sole desire. It’s his lifes work, meeting the love of his life. What’s not to like?

Which is why he blunty suggests the idea. And boy is he glad he did.

A phone camera is pushed into your face while he records everything. The sloppy noises of your pretty pink mouth slipping and sliding around his cock.

It’s not just any homemade porno either, no. It’s a borderline snuff film.

He films himself slotting his cock into your swollen lips, one hand recording, another hand on a pistol pressed firmly against your head while you choke on his cock. The gun isn’t loaded of course, at least, you don’t think it is.

If the gun is loaded, you’re sure he’s playing a dangerous game with himself. Testing his own capabilities. He’s the best of the best, and his fingers are placed firmly on the trigger. If he loses control or focus for even a moment, you could never see the light of day again. Each time he cums is like a self-made test for himself, an ego trip. He’s excercising the greatest control not to accidentally pull the trigger and pop your top.

You’re spitting wildly, tears and saliva and cum mixing on your face. You’ve been sucking him off for what feels like hours, playing this game, and it’s still not enough. No, the man could live his whole life with your face inbetween his thighs. You have no clue what round you’re on.

“There you go…sweetness. Uh-huh…take it.” He’ll press the gun further into your temple, talking down to you slowly. It’s awfully demeaning.

He never shuts the fuck up during sex. This is no exception. His dry humor persists in every word, even as his gun comes into contact with your fucked out wet face, or a blade slices through your sweet soft thighs.

He’s doing close-up shots of every cut he makes on your skin. He marks the both of you, respectively. He keeps the videos in his pocket for later. Y’know, just in case you aren’t there, and he needs something to jack off to. He’s a manwhore, and he can admit it.

He’ll ask to show the videos to Wendell. Just so he knows Victor wasn’t lying about his girl being a total catch.

𝐸𝐷𝑊𝐴𝑅𝐷 𝑁𝑌𝐺𝑀𝐴

♫ “I wanna taste your sweat, force my fingers in your mouth.” The Valley by Miguel

Oh, Eddy. Ever the show man. Oddly enough, I think he has the dirtiest mind and the highest sex drive out of everyone on this list. In the words of CMS, "He loves donuts and getting laid." You're no exception babe.

Similarly, he isn't the kinkiest when he's at the GCPD. The poor baby is so vanilla; so eager to please. If you want a man to put your needs above his own? Look no further. Eddy is your guy. But similar to Ozzy, the man grapples with control. How can he resist when your small sleeping body looks so innocent? So willing?

You wake up to him pumping his dick deep into your hole, groping your breasts and ass, hips plowing harshly into your stretched cunt. He wants to apologize, for waking you. He feels bad of taking advantage of you. But it's your fault. The man is a little bit of a creep and has gone his whole life without pussy. What did you expect?

That being said...when he undergoes his transformation of sorts? It's like he has something to prove, to you and himself. Riddler baby is tired of hiding in the shadows, no, it's show time. If you thought the somnophilia was kinky, you've seen nothing yet.

Season 3-4 Ed is desperate to dominate you. Claim you in every way. Prove to himself that you're not going anywhere. It's a deep seated need to exert control, with a touch of dramatic flair.

Which is why, from time to time, especially on special occasions, you'll wake up from being drugged, ball-gagged in a warehouse, tied to a chair, moaning around a vibrator overstimulated against your cunny. He'll watch the whole show, pleased with his handiwork.

Might even turn it into a game. How many riddles can you answer? Maybe if you get one right, he'll let you cum. And if you don't get one right, prepare to be in for a long, long night.

Ed's pushing his thick long fingers into your tight little pussy, watching your cream spread along his fingertips. He'll force his fingers in your mouth, making you taste yourself. Making you taste what he's doing to you.

He's giggling while he does so, smile wide while you gag around him. Oh, this will be fun.

𝐽𝐸𝑅𝛰𝑀𝐸 𝑉𝐴𝐿𝐸𝑆𝐾𝐴

♫ “lips, tits, clit, sit.” The Valley by Miguel

Would it be too brave to go on record to say the mans a virgin? I'm sorry, but he didn't get any pussy in that carnival.

Which is why he's incredibly sex starved. The man is feral. Hungry. He fucks you like a dog in heat half the time. You're his own personal pocket pussy, who will love him no matter what.

So when he tells you to do something, you better do it.

For instance, when he tells you to sit on his face, he means sit. No hovering. No, he wants the entirety of your weight in his mouth so he can tongue fuck you into oblivion.

He's wildly gripping at you, laughing like a mad man as he keeps you in place firmly. He's digging into your cunt with his tongue like a man whose getting his first lick of pussy. He's slapping your ass, letting you ride his face like a cowgirl.

He'll slap your sopping cunt. He'll spit in your mouth, on your face, on your pussy. He loves everything feral and sloppy. And for his own good, the man can't shut up. He loves some good dirty talk.

"Hah! There you go, doll. You want it raw? You do, don'tcha? Naughty, naughty girl." Excuse his breeding kink. "Should just pump you right up with my cum. Get you all messy. Cream-pie you riiiiiiight here," He cackles, hand hovering over you're lower stomach.

He likes seeing your face contort in pleasure and pain when your thighs scratch the staples on his face.

Oh, he's a biter. Your thighs might be bleeding by the time he's done, biting hard enough to break skin. You'll yelp in pain and it will spur him on, like you're his own personal show to watch.

God, please hit him back. Slap him. Push him around. He adores it- the two of you fucking like wild animals, clawing and at each others throats, all the while his girthy length his pounding into your sweet tight hole.

𝐽𝐸𝑅𝑉𝐼𝑆 𝑇𝐸𝑇𝐶𝐻

♫ “Tell me that you love it darling." The Valley by Miguel

Jervis has a very deep seated need to have you close to him. To have you bonded with him. He's obsessive, clingy, stalkerish. And he loves a good old fashioned Victorian flirtation. But god, he gets tired of waiting.

He's a gentlemen through and through. But even gentlemen have needs. And when he sees you in that light blue dress he bought you, pussy peaking out through the short skirt? Or how you lick your lips when the tea he makes you dribbles down?

He'll have to take what he wants eventually.

He knows you'll say yes. Even though the two of you have never talked about sex. No, you're his Alice. His willing little girl. Why would you ever say no to him? And he's right. He could ask, and you would probably say yes.

But, just for a precaution...Can't have you running off like the white rabbit, can he?

It will be late night after the two of you have tea. And he'll pull out his pocket watch. And before you know it, you'll be pinned on top a table, dress pooling between your legs, pulling on his hair against your will.

It's a sight he will never sick of. His sticky ropes of cum dripping, tainting the dress he'd bought you. It trickles down from your spine. You'll be too fucked out to walk the next day, and you won't even remember why.

He takes you, ignoring your pleas and whines of overstimulation. He'll continue to stuff his cock inside you until he feels pity for you.

Hypnotizing you while he's balls-deep inside of you, messily thrusting as he tries to concentrate. "You love this. Tell me you love me. Tell me you love this." His words scramble as he comes undone himself, letting your mind wash over and speak the words against your will.

If somehow you piece two and two together, the cum stains on your dress- and the feeling of being stretched out the next morning...assure him he doesn't have to hypnotize you.

Or let him keep it up. It's more fun for him this way.

[chvnnie]

dad minho pls smth short :)

only for you >:(

me, not even five minutes ago: my weakness in my asks are dad skz

anny, sitting across the couch from me: hehehehe

Minho is sitting on the floor, back against the couch. Feet flat, knees up and pressed together. The baby covers the expanse of his thighs; beanie clad head resting on his knees while her legs scrunch, feet pressing on his stomach.

So tiny. So perfect. Only a few days together, and he’s convinced nothing in this world will ever compare to her. Pieced together, made of star and beams of bright light. Sleeping on his leg, making teeny noises as her eyes twitch.

“What are you dreaming about?” His voice is lighter than air, hands cupping her tiny head. His thumb traces the edge of the beanie, her name lovingly stitched onto the deep purple fabric.

She has his nose. That was the first thing he noticed when the doctor laid her on your chest, face scrunched as cried for the first time. It may have been too soon to tell, maybe his ego is big—

“Min.” Your eyes are watery when you beam up at your husband, cradling your newborn to your bare chest. “She’s your twin.”

It’s like every good part of him was taken into consideration during her creation. Minho can’t seem to fathom it; how could he have helped bring life to the brightest star in the universe?

She starts to stretch, little arms curling up towards her shoulders. Small smacks of her lips, head rolling to the other side.

“Is nap time over?”

A little scrunch of her nose. Protest. Minho chuckles, learning down to kiss her soft forehead.

How has he only known her for five days, yet it feels like a lifetime?

The soft sound of your footsteps echos through the quiet house. “Is she still snoozing?”

Minho hums. His head moves like he’s going to look at you, but fuck, how could he ever stop staring at her? Awe isn’t a good enough word. Is he even worthy of being her father?

You sit down next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. The bright light in the center of the room covering you, pulling you in as it did him. Your pointer fingers gently rubs the back of her hand until it opens, tiny fist wrapping around her mother’s finger.

“How are you feeling?” Minho asks, tearing himself away from hypnosis long enough to kiss the top of your head.

“Achy. Thanks for letting me take a bath—“

“Oh, stop.” He clicks his tongue, though there’s no malicious. “Silly things like that don’t deserve thanks. You are allowed time to yourself, love.”

When you smile, he sees her. Lips curling in a similar fashion, cheeks rounding out. While she only got the absolute perfect parts of him, she got everything of you.

The sun who taught the star how to shine.

“How did we get so lucky?”

Minho has never stopped asking himself that.

The knock on the door is light, yet it still startles the baby. Barely making a fuss, her eyes start to blink open. Unhappy about her nap being cut so short.

But that bitterness is short lived. The second Minho hands her to you, she lights up again. Happy little coos as Mama snuggles her close. Papa walks up to the door, not even having to check to know who’s out there.

“Let me see the baby.” Is all Seungmin says before he pushes his way into the house, making a beeline to the sink to wash his hands.

“Nah, it’s cool, she wasn’t sleeping or anything.”

“I won’t wait another day!”

The puppy’s hands are clean, practically bouncing over to where you’re sitting on the ground. Leaving the entire group he left with behind at the front door. With a roll of his eyes, Minho turns to his friends, greeting all of them with hugs. Changbin brought a giant box of diapers — “My wife wouldn’t let me leave the house without them.” He says before dropping the heavy box by the door. “It should last you a good…ten years.” — while Felix brought baked goods. Jisung’s baby is strapped to his chest, her hair sticking up in every direction (“You know I can’t leave the house without her.”). Finally, he greets Chan.

“How are you feeling?” His older friend asks as he hugs him.

“I’m good.” Minho claps his back, breaking from the hold. He takes a step back to let him inside before shutting the door. “Still doesn’t feel…real.”

Chan smiles at him. “It won’t for a while.” Following his gaze, the new father’s breath is taken away at the sight. Starlight, smiling up at the planets huddled around her. Bouncing in the arms of the sun. “And honestly, that’s the best part.”

The entire universe on earth. Just for Minho.

[amazon160]

Spot dabbles because the simps need to be fed:

(art ain’t by me I’m so sorry I couldn’t find the og artist 😭)

-He is the single most awkward man alive, no doubt. Has no filter. Will compliment or critique you on the spot. Hehe. I just noticed the pun there lol. And if it’s not an annoyed critique, he usually gets all flustered after he realizes what he’s just said.

-Spot is real laid back if not an anxious wreck around you. Clearly a bottom. You’ll get him to be more assertive by telling him that when he does, it’s straight up H O T.

-He seems like a “work now, clean later” kind of guy. I mean, we saw how disorganized his house was. It reminds me of Dipper in this one Gravity Falls episode iykyk 😉. Once he moves in with you, he’ll push himself to pick up after himself more often. Until then, he would much rather come to you than you come to his apartment.

-The man can be a scientific perfectionist, but he does not like to clean :(

-Absolutely loves it when you lay your head on his stomach. He’s a lil chub, so he feels like a pillow :3

-Spot is very self conscious of his body, of course. So he will go ballistic when you caress his square like torso or his spindly limbs, like they’re the most perfect things in the world to you.

-He doesn’t understand how you could love someone like him :’(

-When you trace around his spots or sweet talk him about whatever, he can barely sit still underneath you. Any type of praise will send him through the roof.

-So when you’d say it was hot when Spot was assertive? Every now and then, he’ll take that advice. It’ll be easy to kinda just sneak up on ya from behind with his portals.

-He also likes to give you praise as much as you like to give him it. He knows that the assertion needs to go both ways.

-That’ll be its own blurb with more details for another day.

-But.

-I’ve always had a thing for hypnosis, I love it and I don’t see it used too often. But like, imagine Spot pins you onto the bed or the couch or somewhere comfortable. His portals are keeping your arms out of place and he forces you to look at him the way he makes Miles look to the side in the movie

Erm. 😳

-The spot on his face starts to swirl, or ripple, or whatever motion and you feel all groggy under his gaze, making way for Spot to take advantage of you while you’re under his trance.

AAA--

-I’m not the usual fan of yandere but for a lil wimp like Spot to be acting that way would be HOO--MAMA--especially if this were after his transformation and the end of the movie.

-You wouldn’t stand a chance.

-AND tbh his voice is just so 😩 especially when it’s distorted

-Like is it just me-? Idk.

-He doesn’t like doing the spicy all that much, he’s mostly into the fluff and domestic bits of your relationship. Don’t get me wrong, he appreciates what intimacy he’ll get, but not so much the SPICY stuff y’know

-And this is whether or not you’d say he has his part. For some reason this became a discussion with me and some friends and one of them literally went “maybe it’s in a hole somewhere”. So if that’s where you wanna go, go for it. Heck, I’ve still seen some art of stuff coming out of that face-spot of his. Y’know, the one spot on his head 😋

That’s all the dribbles FOR NOW, but I intend on getting a not spicy but mild blurb of Spot along with that hypnosis concept XD

[foggyparadisecandy]

On the Dangers of B—-i Sleep

[NOTE: this is NOT an advertisement to search out the files described. Just don’t. Don’t. I’ve listened to hypno files for decades with minimal impact. These files have damaged me. Perhaps permanently.]

Please consider reblogging if you think this can help others facing similar struggles.

**TRIGGER WARNING**

True confession time: I have listened heavily to a series of hypnosis files called Bambi Sleep. Why? I’ll get into that in a future post.

For now I want to discuss the dangers and possible paths out for anyone struggling with the effects - as I very much have been over the last few days.

SAFEGUARDS FIRST

I’m using words which are triggers so let me provide some incredibly useful instructions to all the Bambis and old selfs reading this:

Bambi is always as smart as she needs to be.

Bambi is always just as smart as she needs to be.

Simple instructions that Bambi obeys because Bambi is obedient and takes instructions. Bambi does as she’s told so she now knows:

Bambi is always as smart as she needs to be.

Bambi is always just as smart as she needs to be.

With those instructions, Bambi knows when she’s in hot water with abusers who want to upend and likely ruin the life of her “old self”, the original listener.

And guess what?

THE ENDLESS LINE OF ABUSERS

In the online world or anonymous assholes, there are a TON of abusers looking to play with Bambis and the old self with absolutely zero regard for long-term damage.

In fact, I would say my Bambi found five asshole abusers for every decent human being who just wanted to have some consensual fun playing with Bambi’s powerful triggers.

I had one such “daddy” nearly convince my Bambi to leave my life and my wife and find some anonymous men to take me in, in exchange for living as their sex slave. Yeah. So that’s what we’re dealing with. Not a joke.

These abusers are quick to gaslight and twist logic and paint the picture that they are doing you a favor (“hey, you came to me. I’m just helping you be who you want to be.”) to further convince you to continue being endangered and abused and falling further down the hole.

Yes. I’m a grown adult. I made choices to listen to the files. And yes, I - or my Bambi persona more likely - reached out to a “daddy” to have fun.

Or maybe your Bambi, like mine did, will start dropping messages on social for daddies to come find her and trigger her.

Social media is littered with regretful “old self”s who had to delete their accounts because their Bambis had done just that.

CONSENSUAL PLAY IS SEXY PLAY

The ultimate problem with Bambi is she is designed and trained to be a real dummy who just sits back and waits for orders to follow.

Many of the files are about becoming stupid as a rock and blanking away your old personality and memories and identity and name and replacing it with this new empty shell who just wants to obey and suck cock.

And trust me, I get the appeal of “getting dumb” in trance.

I *soooooooo* get it. The idea of just giving over and submitting to another and letting them take the wheel.

And after connecting with so many peeps here on tumblr, I know I’m not the only one looking to dumb down, turn off my brain, submit, and just follow orders blindly.

Life can be hard and stressful. Blanking out is such a seductive concept.

But here’s the thing:

You can’t have consent with a dumb object that is programmed to blindly accept orders, obey orders, and then forget those new orders were orders at all.

By definition, there cannot be consent with Bambi. There is only abuse.

“BRAINWASHING DOESN’T CHANGE ANYONE AND HEY, *YOU* REACHED OUT TO *ME*”

It’s debatable about the effect brainwashing has on people. I have listened to hypno files for years and never had anything other than short-term effects. No big deal.

But Bambi is something on a different level. It’s pervasive and seductive and is a form of conditioning that erodes your core character.

If you ever have had a friend or relative get addicted to nonsense conspiracy theories, it’s kind of like that. Did they always believe the aliens are controlling the liberal plot to introduce tracking chips by starting a global pandemic? Maybe? But probably, no.

And yeah … maybe I did reach out to you.

Maybe it wasn’t my Bambi and I was in charge.

Did we discuss limits? Did we get a safeword established? Are you there to fucking take care of me as a good dominant should take care of their submissive?

Or did you think it was going to be fun to ruin someone else’s life by twisting them up … just because you had some levers to do so?

BRINGING IT HOME

I reached out to a few folks during my recent difficulties and want to confirm that, yes, by god, thank god, there are some really decent folks out there willing to help a total stranger who got into a nasty jam.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you all. And thank you for your articles on safe ethical hypnosis. Keep it up. The subjects and submissives lining up for fun play need to read those articles and need to play safe or not play at all. Bambi is not safe.

If you are reading this thinking, “oh it can’t be that bad, it sounds fun, where can I find these files,” you have not read a single thing I wrote. I’ve talked with dozens of other Bambis and only found one who had avoided the nasty pitfalls (she is amazing and literally unique).

Those are not good odds. Don’t think you are going to beat them.

If you yourself are struggling with Bambi, feel free to hit my DMs or my Asks and I will support you in finding a path out as best as I can.

But in the meantime, the best thing to remember, the best thing to do is for Bambi to accept and obey these instructions:

Bambi is always as smart as she needs to be.

Bambi is always just as smart as she needs to be.

Bambi loves fun and a good time.

Bambi can smell predatory assholes.

Bambi can run from predatory assholes.

And Bambi can come to me for help.

[emmabirb8]

It is REALLY getting me that Guillermo is actively choosing this.

Because narratively speaking, I get it. I understand why Guillermo feels like he has to "say goodbye" to his mother and essentially leave his old human life behind as he transitions into a vampire. It's symbolic and metaphorical and literal all at once and makes for a very interesting plot point while also giving us a great look into the psyche of his character.

But logically? It doesn't make a whole lot of sense.

Logically, it would be relatively easy for him to figure out a way that works to have the best of both worlds if he wanted. For one thing, there's always hypnosis to fall back on if things really went down the tubes, but besides that, Guillermo is a MASTER MANIPULATOR. We know this. We have seen this. All he would really have to do is choose his actions very carefully and deliberately, and he'd be fine.

He could simply just make sure he visited at night, find clever ways to pretend he eats human food, strategically avoid mirrors, wear special protective layers that would allow him to display a crucifix if he wanted... etc etc.

Or better yet, he could just come clean about being a vampire, at least to his mother! It was clear from Pine Barrens last season that Silvia especially would accept Guillermo no matter what and would (at least eventually) be cool with the idea of vampires existing anyway. She was most definitely the least fazed when he initially revealed the truth to his family before Nadja hypnotized away the vampire-related bits. His Abuelita and extended family members would potentially be another story, but his mamá would handle it well, I think. (And if he was worried about her slipping up at any time, he could hypnotize away the urge and ability to tell anyone else the truth! It'd be that simple!)

But Guillermo is choosing this path.

He is choosing to shed his old life, his human life, because he has decided that no matter how much he loves his human family, his desire to live freely with his found family as his full authentic self with absolutely NO hangups or threads to hold him back (what he believes would hold him back) is more important.

And unfortunately, the process of coming to that final decision has cost him his relationship with his mother, who, I would say, is the most important non supernatural person in his entire life. His selfishness, self-centeredness, and pure unbridled obsession with and devotion to his vampire family and to Nandor in particular has essentially destroyed the ties that he could have kept to Silvia. It may have started as a subconscious thing, but at this point, there's no denying that he has made his choice.

It's an agonizing kind of choice, but he has convinced himself it's what he has to do.

And GOD if that isn't just the most deliciously interesting plunge into Guillermo's thought processes and rationalization the show has ever taken.

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

Okok but bunny!kappa who’s needy 24/7 and distracts you by teasing himself hoping that you’d come over and “sort” it out. Bunny! Kappa who nearly cries when he has to cockwarm his toy instead of you using him like he wants to. Bunny!kappa who stifles his moans when he’s riding the toy as you’re on the phone. He’s such a vocal person as well so keeping quiet is so so hard for him :(

Thank you so much for this very delightful ask, anon! 🖤🐰🖤

Attaboy

Summary: Kappa just being a very needy bunny boy for mommy 🐰

Pairing: bunny!Kappa x fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1.1k

Content Warnings: Bunny Play Smut 18+!, Thigh Riding, Bondage, A Bunny Tail Plug, Very Needy Kappa, Mommy Kink, Implied Chastity

A/N: This gave me so much brain rot 😩🥴

Tagging the horny horde:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @r0ttenmess @doddernix @svgarcaine @basementgrl222 @amayalul

Lift, oh, lift me out

Of my own skin

Of all my doubt

Oh, and take

Take from me

Leave nothing left

Take everything

- Hypnosis By Sleep Token (Will Ramos Cover)

"Hmhmm…", Kappa's high-pitched, dragged out whine got lost against your collarbone, mixing in with the soft sound of your fingertips tapping on the keyboard of your laptop, "Want attention, pwease."

The desperation in his tone brought a cheeky smile to your lips as your eyes were still trained to the display, the cursor helping you to keep your gaze set to the right lines of the text in front of you.

"You gotta be a bit more patient, yeah? Why don't you be a good bunny for mommy and ride my thigh for a bit, huh?" You suggested, annoyed at yourself that you'd procrastinated this assignment to the absolute last minute…again.

"Come here, don't worry, I got you." Your other hand was flat against his lower back, right underneath his tied up arms, steadying him and encouraging him to rock his hips against your leg.

"But, mommy, please…" Another desperate mewl followed the first one.

"Behave.", Your voice rendered firm for a moment, "You gotta wait until I'm done here or you're not gonna cum for another month."

"Hmhmmm…" He sniffled into your shoulder, cheek resting against your shirt-clad breasts.

"Use your words, hun." Your middle finger flicked over the touchpad to scroll down further.

"Don't wanna wait any longer, need you so much, pretty please." Kappa's face was hot, even through the fabric of your shirt you could feel just how worked up he was already.

"Nuh-uh, stop that begging. You either take up on my offer or I'll lock that pretty cock of yours up again, your choice." You taunted him teasingly, your hand softly pressing against his back, inviting him to grind along your thigh.

"No, mommy, don't want that.." His breath hitched a little as you felt the soft, fuzzy, black fluff of his plug hesitantly graze along your leg, pushing his ass against your thigh to ease his throbbing need.

"Attaboy!", You cooed into the crown of his head, "Mommy's gonna read as fast as she can, okay?"

To give him a little more to work with, you raised your leg in steady ups and downs for him to fuck himself on your thigh.

"Ugh, shit…feels so good…thank you, mommy." Kappa tried to choke back a deep groan but it was a fruitless attempt, the sound had left his lungs way before he could help himself.

"Of course, anything for my perfect bunny boy, no?" The palm of your hand started to stroke over the skin of his back in loving touches whilst still helping him with his posture, making sure that he wouldn't flail and slump into you.

"Just a few more pages and Mommy's all about you, baby." Your eyes practically flew over the sentences of the document, your brain struggling to keep up with your need to get this out of your hands as soon as you could.

Some random facts about Greek agriculture flew through your mind as you basically just haphazardly skimmed through the text. Something about grain, wine and olives, the holy ancient Greek trinity and something about plowing acres in the humid Mediterranean climate. The information tried its best to settle down in your long-term memory but you knew that hardly any of it would actually do and you didn't exactly care.

"Need you to touch me, mommy…" It rambled out of him in a breathy stutter.

"I know, hun, I know. Just be patient a little more, yeah? Not enough for you to grind on my thigh, no? Poor lil' bunny, always so bouncy and needy for me." It took all your self-control not to just close your laptop and give Kappa the release he'd been waiting on for so long now.

As you felt Kappa picking up his pace, his throbbing cock thudding against his belly with every roll of his shaky hips, your eyes started running through the sentences. Not even really taking note of their contents anymore. You just wanted to be able to pretend that you'd read all of this, to raise your hand once or twice during the next class to utter some luke-warm facts for your professor to at least remember your face before exam season rolled around faster than you liked it.

"No, shit…fuck…", Your gaze shot towards Kappa immediately, your eyes widening in surprise and equal parts of amusement, "No, no, no, damn, mommy, 'm gonna cum already!"

You didn't try to stop him, no, you very much knew how pent-up the last few weeks had rendered him and he'd been such a good, obedient bunny for you that you allowed him to have this right now.

"Ouw…", You softly hummed into his hair, both of your hands now cupping his waist, "Did fucking yourself on my thigh felt so good, huh? Issok, bun, cum for mommy. Just let go, I gotchu."

For another few unsteady rolls of his hips against your thigh, Kappa grinded his crotch against you, his balls tightening up before he faltered, heavy moans cascading out of his trembling lips as white-hot ropes of his cum splurged all over his lower abdomen and the seam of your shirt, soaking into the fabric.

"There, there…", You pressed a long kiss, affirmative to his temple. "Did so good for me, bun."

Kappa's bright red face pressed into the crook of your neck as he gasped for air, slowly coming down from his orgasm.

" 'M so sorry, mommy.." He, indeed, sounded sorry and not at all please about just cumming like that.

"Oh, no, stop that. It's okay, baby. Been waiting for that so long, no?", You led one hand to wander right to the nape of his neck, your fingers getting lost in sweaty strands of his hair while you hugged him against your form, "Take a breath. It's all good and who said that it'll stop me from touching you as soon as I'm finally done with this stuff here, huh?"

[writtenbynath]

The hypno community and good behaviour

I came across a post here on tumblr and it kinda made me foam at the mouth, not in a good way, so let me just make a few points here.

It has come to my attention lately that many of the tists on tumblr are just not being shown the care and respect they deserve.  When subjects vanish without a word. It leaves tists to wonder what did I do wrong?, or what didn’t I do that maybe I should have?  This is most true of newbie tists, but none of them are immune.  Dear Tists/ Spiral Weavers, Faeries? Gods , when your subjects do not communicate there wishes with you, or put far less care into your well-being than their own they are undervaluing the relationship. A relationship is never ever solely one persons responsibility, so please don’t worry yourselves over those who have not put half as much care or thought in as you have.

Are you fucking kidding me? When a subject vanishes without a word, you done goofed, my friend. You did something to scare them off. You did something that made the subject want to never speak to you again. It's good to look inward and wonder what you've done wrong. That path leads to growth. Think long and hard about what you did that hurt them.

Get your act together. Treating your subject right is not rocket science. It's basic human decency. If you give the subject a nice positive experience, they come back for more. If you behave like a good person, they become your friend. If you're a dick to them, they leave. Plain and simple.

The second thing that really bothers me about the hypno-community is subs that claim to be traumatized by the smallest of things, especially when they do this falsely and/or publicly.  Yes hypnosis can be scary, and I’ve had a few experiences i did not enjoy.  Your tist is magical but also they’re not magical. They are not all-seeing, all-knowing. They cannot guess how you feel unless you communicate openly and honestly with them. And accidents happen. They happen all the time. Most commonly the number one thing that goes wrong for me is the motion sickness nausea effect, and there’s just stuff that unsettles me, but guess what? When that happens we go back and fix it. I’m going to apply a rule a Dom taught me here. It was actually about anal sex but it applies very well here too. We prepare as best we can that things are smooth and clean  but sometimes that is not the outcome. If you can’t deal with it being unpredictable, just don’t do it. It’s not for you.

Since fucking when are you the expert on when another person is traumatised? Maybe the subject didn't tell you that you hurt their feelings (their feelings! their! I know grammar is hard, but please!) because they kinda suspected you would belittle the problem and deny that you did anything wrong. Maybe they feared you wouldn't take their feedback seriously because you didn't take their wishes and boundaries seriously either. Maybe that's why they ghosted you.

It's hard to understand what happens when someone is truly traumatised or triggered, it's really hard to empathise if you've never been through that yourself. It's tiny little things that can set it off and that does not invalidate the realness of the trauma. The correct response is not to get defensive. It's to ask how you can help. It's to learn from it and do fucking better.

Are you seriously saying "hey, if a bad experience traumatised you, just go away, it's not for you" is that seriously your response when a person gets hurt? Fucking seriously? It really is no wonder our community is shitty if you can't even show an ounce of compassion for a person who feels hurt.

Online people behave badly. They behave in ways they would never behave in the real world.  Online is the place where you can show as much or as little of yourself as you want.  When you build relationships online they are real relationships.  When you indulge in hypnosis online, that is a relationship, and there is a code of basic honour and decency.

The absolute hypocrisy of saying this after this previous shit is galling. You know what happens the most in our online community? Shitty tists inboxing shitty scripts because they get off on control fantasies. Subjects who just want to get out of their own heads with some online trances getting stuck with suggestions and triggers they don't know how to remove. Subjects who just want to get their trance on but who can't find a decent hypnotist who will consider their needs.

I have zero sympathy for hypnotists complaining that subjects are not being nice to them.

[bellmo15-blog]

Precursor Drone Kiera

Oh Kiera, out of all the childhood crushes I had growing up you are the one I'm surprised I don't get more art off despite the fact that the Jak and Daxter series is still one of my favourite Playstation exclusive franchises. Well, this series and Ratchet and Clank.

Inkling Michael: Wait, what about Crash Bandicoot. That was like THE defining title on the Playstation 1 and you've even admitted you love that series and was even the first video game franchise you played.

I said Playstation EXCLUSIVE franchises! Why would I count a franchise that has been multiplatform since 2001, only the first five games are exclusive to a Playstation system and N.Sane Trilogy was only a PS4 exclusive for a year before going multiplatform anyway as a Playstation Exclusive?

IM: Okay but how do you explain stuff like Bayonetta then where the first game's multiplatform and was even re-released on PS4/Xbox One and PC for it's 10 year anniversary but Bayonetta 2 onwards are only on Nintendo systems?

That's...... complicated because of how no one else other than Nintendo wanted to even publish Bayonetta 2 in the first place... Okay fine, you got me on that one!

Believe it or not, this pic actually has a bit of a backstory behind it's inspiration. I was replaying Jak 2, specifically the PS4 re-release since it had trophy support and I had become a bit of an avid trophy and achievement hunter in the past few years and wanted to add another one of my favourite games to that list of fully Platinumed games especially since I had Platinumed the original Jak and Daxter a few years ago. I... gave up on trying to Platinum Jak 2 after remembering the insane score requirements for some of the optional challenges though and I REALLY didn't want to use the Orb Farming glitch or Debug mode to just get the Platinum instantly. However midway though my playthrough a sudden thought came into my mind relating to the Precursors, the ancient and technologically advanced beings that much Jak and Daxter's world and lore is built around. My though process was basically "Okay but what if the Precursors had hypnosis or fembot technology for controlling hostiles?"

And that's it! That's how this whole idea was spawned! Just a random intrusive thought while playing a game I absolutely adore. I came up with a design, picked who I wanted to be the victim which of course it was going be Kiera (though trust me, I was close to going with Ashelin at one point) and asked Ameer to draw this for my next Fully Detailed Ko Fi reward. And maybe this is just my own childhood love for Kiera talking here, again she was one of my childhood crushes, but this is honestly one of my favourite things I've gotten Ameer to draw for me so far. And finally uploading it for more people to see feels good. Nothing could ruin this night at all.

Genie Michael: Sony ported Jak and Daxter The Lost Frontier to PS5 before they ported Daxter! :D

...... Why do I even hang out with you people?

Artist is AmmerAshourDraws.

[batw1nggg]

I mean the idea of Makoto and co.'s plans being morally questionable is kind of interesting. But the story doesn't frame it as such. We the audience are meant to look it as a clear morally good thing. And for me the only way I could possibly look at the Neo World Program in that light is if there was something that made the situation so unique, that standard rehabilitation was impossible. Which kind of makes something like mind control a borderline necessity for Makoto's decision to be presented as squeaky clean as it is.

As for how I personally headcanon Junko mentally reconditioning them, I picture it as a few of them being kidnapped for about a couple days at a time. And being subjected to all kinds of fucked up shit that was partly stolen from the academy's research. A combination of the memory altering technology from Yasuke, powerful hallucinogens created by Seiko, hypnosis derived from Ryota's animation, and so on. Along with isolation, sensory deprivation, physical torture, etc.

I think memory altering could play a huge role in building up resentment towards other members of the class. Rewriting happy memories into negative ones. Which creates a very ugly atmosphere when Junko releases her newly molded Despairs back among their unsuspecting classmates. Plus it could help psychologically shatter the morale of the next ones she reconditions if their own classmates assist in their torture.

I picture each conditioning session being unique to each member of the class. Like for example with Imposter, something heavily centered around the fact that they lack a sense of identity. Playing on their resentment and envy of the rich and power they impersonate. Or Mahiru, being subjected to something akin to what Chisa was in the anime, but with static photography (including crime photos of Natsumi and Sato). And being hypnotized to associate images of violence and cruelty with a sense of joy.

There's lots of great potential for nightmare fuel writing, even with brainwashing applied. Like this one bit of art someone drew of Nagito being made to cut off his arm while Junko was still alive at her command gave me one idea. Imagine her deliberately giving him a more limited form of brainwashing as a cruel mercy. Allowing him to keep his memories mostly intact and be lucid enough to know that him and the others have been brainwashed. But feeling absolutely powerless and horrified when he finds himself acting on a post-hypnotic suggestion to carry out Junko's command to saw off his own arm for her amusement. Even worse, realizing as he stares down at his bleeding stump that on some level the misery and agony he's experiencing feels...right. That this is just how it's meant to be for him.

Also I kinda like the idea of it happening before her death, because it adds another layer to him taking her arm. Nagito feeling that he was owed an arm by her.

...Yeah, maybe I've been hanging around too many dark fanfic circles.

SEEEEE THIIIIIS IS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUTTTT THESE WERE THE KINDS OF IDEAS WE COULDVE HAD GOING ONNNNNNNN ‼️‼️ the brainwashing plot has so much potential to be better there are so many directions to choose theres no reason to not go all out on the nightmare fuel this is danganronpa ‼️‼️

[pretty--in--purple]

alright, with nandor using hypnosis again in the background of this episode (when he was getting the popcorn), i'm becoming convinced that if hypnosis isn't the s3-colin-robinson-dying background gutpunch of the season, it SHOULD be. longpost below

nandor is SPECIFICALLY ignoring guillermo's request for the vampires to use less hypnosis, which might be due to ignorance/forgetfulness and might be due to his resentment of guillermo's emotional distance this season. now, at the moment, i'm not 100% what the gutpunch is going to/should be, because we technically still have the djinn in play and that would make more sense than attempting to hypnotise guillermo since we know that won't work. (do the vamps know that guillermo can't be hypnotised? i don't remember)

there's a scenario where nandor attempts to hypnotise guillermo (to forget he's a vampire? not sure how this would work but nandor ain't the brightest), which offends guillermo and doesn't work, and then turns to the djinn in the way people have been predicting since the end of season 4 - to undo guillermo's transformation.

there's also the possibility that overuse of hypnosis unlocks something else OR completely takes away the vampires' powers to do so. i would LOVE a cliffhanger where all previous hypnosis gets undone and the world falls into absolute CHAOS, but such a major status quo shift seems unlikely.

very possible is sean or another highly hypnotised character becoming immune in the same way that guillermo is, although brain scramblies appear to be keeping him pliant.

we MIGHT find out that guillermo's resistance to hypnosis is linked to his other vampiric resistances and/or his slayer heritage, which i would love to see. this wouldn't completely link to the ongoing overuse problem UNLESS guillermo's family (who i'm pretty sure i heard show up this season? might be wrong) find out something they shouldn't, the vamps attempt to hypnotise them, and by the end of the episode (potentially after lots of re-dos a la Private School) they're resistant to hypnosis. i would LOVE a season six where vampire slayers and specifically guillermo's family are the big bad, and tbh i might just write it if it doesn't happen

finally, it's fully possible that this is just the writers/actors enjoying hypnosis as a plot device. we've already had the weird retcon that it's laszlo, not nandor, who sucks at hypnosis, so they might just be playing with it without much intent. if it doesn't come to anything, i won't be surprised, but i hope i've managed to outline how much fun they COULD have with the breadcrumbs they've already given us. what do you think?

[emeraldspiral]

Thinking a bit more on the idea of Dib having a vampire ex-boyfriend/nemesis.

Zim would be absolutely terrified of him. Like, we know from the Halloween episode that he has a massive fear of being eaten/having his blood drained so he'd find Batty really intimidating. But he'd try really hard not to show it because he doesn't want to look like a pussy in front of Dib's ex.

Batty would invoke a lot of comparison to Zim with his design and dramatic mannerisms, but he'd be more playful and mischievous and into manipulation and toying with his opponents. The main contrast between the two of them is that Zim is supposed to be cold and unfeeling because his people are conditioned to not feel or crave love but he secretly yearns for it. Batty claims that he had real feelings for Dib and wanted it to work out between them but Dib believes that since losing his soul he can't feel anything genuine and is just very good at faking it.

Batty is extremely charming and manipulative and way better at blending in with humans than Zim, but he also has the ability to hypnotize people, which grows stronger after they've been bitten. Dib however, is immune to Batty's hypnosis because he was bitten once but managed to get away from him long enough for the wound to heal up completely. He still has scars though, hidden by his jacket collar.

Dib asks Zim politely to put off his plans for world domination and promises he'll foil them in a day or two after he deals with Batty's return. Zim takes offense at Dib treating Batty like the bigger threat and tries to force Dib to prioritize his evil scheme but immediately fumbles it, allowing Dib to give Batty his undivided attention.

Dib tells Zim to just go home, promising that Batty can't do anything to him as long as nobody invites him in. Naturally, Batty shows up at Zim's house and walks right in thanks to the Robotparents answering the door with their standard "Welcome home son" greeting. He terrorizes Zim for a bit before biting him but is driven out when GIR belches on him after eating a garlicy pizza.

Zim goes to Dib's house freaking out about being bit and asking if he's going to turn into a vampire now. Dib tells him that he'll only turn if Batty comes for him again and drains enough of his blood to kill him, or if he gets any of Batty's vampire blood in his system. He promises to protect Zim because he doesn't want to deal with him as a vampire. Standard Swollen Eyeball protocol demands that all agents deal with vampires by driving a stake through them, beheading them, and then for good measure burning the remains to ash. The former two Dib doesn't have a problem with, but the latter is unappealing because then he wouldn't be able to prove Zim was an alien or have him dissected for scientific study.

Zim wants to know how to keep Batty away. Dib says he's got a salt circle and garlic wards up around the house to ward away vampires but since Batty's already been to his house it's not totally safe. Gaz is at a sleepover and Membrane's working overnight at his lab, but they'll be going to a safe house set-up by the Swollen Eyeballs.

Unfortunately, having already bitten Zim gives Batty a telepathic link to him, which allows him to figure out where they're going. GIR orders a pizza and Batty seizes the opportunity by pretending to be the delivery guy and getting GIR to invite him in. Hungry for more of Zim's "exotic" blood, he uses hypnosis to compel Zim to come and be fed upon.

Dib drives Batty away, but not before he's drained enough of Zim's blood to put his organic body into a coma while his PAK assumes emergency control, carrying him around on spider legs. The PAK is prepared to turn the nearest organic life form (Dib) into its new host, should Zim die, which seems imminent given that he desperately needs a transfusion and there are no other Irkens around who could donate blood. The PAK is aware of its surroundings however, and is able to listen to Dib explain that there's another way to save Zim.

They get into the medical research department of Membrane Labs where Dib's dad has been working on a blood synthesis machine that can convert any donor blood type into one compatible with any recipient. Dib uses the machine to convert his own blood and Zim is able to accept a life-saving transfusion from him.

Unfortunately, having fed on Zim twice now, Batty's telepathic link is even stronger. He cons his way into entering Membrane Labs and uses his powers to compel Zim to steal the blood synthesis machine and bring it to him while Dib is too weak and anemic to stop him.

Batty takes Zim back to his lair but doesn't feed on him because his plan is to run his tainted vampire blood through the synthesis machine and send it to all the city's hospitals and turn their patients into an army of vampires under his thrall, and he's going to need Zim's blood to replenish him.

Zim attempts to use a tack infused with garlic DNA just like the one from Bolognius Maximus, which he'd made while in the safe house with Dib. But Batty already knew about it due to their telepathic link. He flexes his mental control over Zim by taking it from him and leaving it out in the open and not even bothering to restrain Zim, knowing he doesn't have the strength to break his mental hold and escape or attack him.

Zim is able to contact Dib and tell him where they are though, or rather, Batty allows him to contact Dib because he wants a confrontation with him. When Dib comes Batty tries the classic "we can rule together speech" but Dib's heard it before and reminds Batty that he has no power over him anymore. Batty lets his obsession with Dib get the better of him though, and while he's focused on trying to seduce Dib to the dark side, Zim finally has the chance to strike back and get Batty with the tack, turning him into the very thing he's allergic to.

Batty flits off screaming in agony. Dib isn't sure if being turned into garlic will actually kill him, but if it doesn't, that almost seems worse. Either way, he doesn't expect they'll be seeing him again anytime soon.

And then the story ends with the conversation about how Dib's rivalry with Zim means more to him than Batty ever did.

[seraphiism]

𓆩 ღ 𓆪 𝐢𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫

( we've been lost here once or twice, in this pitch black room without a light even if we fall, we'll survive. )

chara : doppo kannonzaka fandom : hypnosis mic quote cr : alexander jean - head high

i. OH, BUT LIFE HAS NEVER MEANT TO BE EASY, the everlasting cycles of sun and moon melded to one , time a demon in disaster in days gone by. the heart is such a fragile being, succumbing to the numbness found in constants. how mundane it all is, doppo thinks, watching the rain flood the streets of shinjuku.

he does not know if this absence of feeling is something he has always had or if it is something he has only noticed recently, the weight of the world heavy on his shoulders. perhaps it is something that has found sanctuary in the crevices of a tired mind; perhaps it is from the harsh droplets that envelop his skin, sink into his clothes and musings.

it pours, ruthless. he has forgotten his umbrella, but that's okay. there is a coldness that creeps into his skin, dreadful in its presence, but that's okay, it doesn't really matter. he shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath, looks up to gloomy skies. the rain feels gentle on his skin -- a wonderful contrast to all he faces in the trial of days, his work a never ending burden, thoughts lost in the haze of countless tasks and trivialities.

the rain feels gentle ; he could stay in this moment for an endless time of being, but there are places to go and people to see. he is freezing, but the heart is a fragile being, and so the warmth it holds in its depths allows him to continue in his journey home to you.

ii. OH, BUT LIFE HAS NEVER MEANT TO BE EASY, the everlasting cycles of sun and moon melded to one, time an angel in absolution in days gone by. the heart is such a fragile being, succumbing to the presence of love. how wonderful it all is, doppo thinks, watching as you greet him at the doorway, faint concern on your features.

"you forgot your umbrella." is the first thing you say, but there is no urgency in your voice. how very strange that he seems to forget the storm he has been through in that moment he recognizes the warmth in your words, feels that sense of a welcome home in it.

the exhaustion seems to come crashing down all at once -- it is different from the fatigue of slow hours and overtime. it's a good exhaustion, he knows this, one that he welcomes with ease-- the exhaustion that one allows themselves to feel when they return home from a long day, comforted by the presence of another. it is a very beautiful feeling, and he does not think he will ever get used to it. it does not seem to have a place in his life, but somehow, it has made its way to him, and he will forever be grateful for it.

"sorry." there are a thousand things he wishes to say, but his eyelids feel heavy, and he does not force it.

you smile, towel in hand, laugh quietly when he instinctively bows his head down the slightest bit as you dry his hair off. there is a serenity in such a simple interaction, a home sweet home, a comfort in being.

"you don't need to be sorry for anything." you remove the towel, make eye contact with him as he raises his head, faces you head on.

the heart is such a fragile being, you think, and you feel it pound so deeply against your chest ; you wonder if his does the same. you drop the towel, cup his face in your hands, see the way the pink hues surface. you choose not to mention it this time.

"i'm glad you're home safe."

doppo swallows hard, almost feels like he could lose himself in this very moment in time. he is afraid to speak, ruin this tenderness, so he nods, overwhelmed as your lips meet his in gentleness.

( oh, but life has never meant to be easy, but surely with you by his side, there will be brighter days. )