#hypnosis for ts

[shapa-likes-art]

(No ID)

This is basically my own niche dbjsbd

It's a costume swap between my blorbos.

The first one is Doppo and Virgil

Second is Roman and Hifumi <3.

I was going to render them but school tool up most of my time and I lost the lotivation to render them hahaha

Taglist: @roseianxiety @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo @angstysunshine @treeni @jervis-tetch-my-beloved @gattonero17 @anxious-chaos-art @cyclonepossibly @parksthefrog

Reblogs are appreciated!

[gummysphere]

is it bad that even the goofy hypnosis voices they do in the funny vampire show kinda make me horny because it's hypnosis.

[shiyorin]

Hope I’m not late! Could be any primarch/space marine either before or after corruption.May I ask about the raping of some serf that had fallen asleep near the chambers? And due to loneliness and being fucking pent up they grope her and after some quite while suddenly are balls deep, with her still asleep. Cut to the a year later, ship’s full of rumours. Well, serfs giving birth isn’t exatcly something weird. The child just becomes like their mother later on...but this child is just weird and growing abnormaly. The fate of them both is also yours to decide...to be either unrealistic taking the serf in due to regretable night or more plausable execution of a newborn due to them being a mutant❤️

#Why did I choose TS? I don't know, random.org said so.

#Unnamed Thousand Sons x F!Reader

#Rape, noncon, NSFW, somnophilia, there is a description of pregnancy,...

#I'm bad with summary so I won't do anything with it.

You won't wake up soon.

The sorcerer stares down at your sleeping form. His mind trick has you trapped in a deep slumber, completely at his mercy. 

He's not sure why he did it, casting that subtle hypnosis when he spotted you drifting off alone in this dusty hab-room. Maybe it was the warp's dark desires, twisting his thoughts to sinister temptation. Or maybe it was just the primal, feral urges every Astartes struggles to contain.

All he knows is seeing your exhausted body sprawled out there, so soft and vulnerable, awakened something... wrong inside him. Something that made his double-hearts feel way too confining.

This was wrong. Profane, even. You were just a lowly serf, an insignificant mortal whose only purpose was servitude. But those thoughts couldn't stop the Astartes from reaching out with his gauntlets and roughly gathering you into his embrace.

He wraps his huge arms around you, pulling you into his embrace effortlessly. Your body feels so tiny and delicate compared to his towering transhuman bulk. Just a fragile little mortal sack of flesh and bone, a helpless mortal compared to his might.

You were so light, so fragile in his arms. Your head lolled back, mouth parting slightly as you remained trapped in that unnatural slumber. He nuzzled his face against the warm, soft skin of your throat and inhaled deeply. Your warmth and sweet scent quickly enflames his senses with fresh desire.

Holding you tightly against his huge chest, he slowly ran his tongue along the delicate seam of your lips. No resistance, not even a flutter of awakening as your breath was stolen away. He tasted you greedily, feeling your chest rise and fall with panicked panting, but you didn't wake. How deliciously helpless you were in this state...

His massive hands slide down to squeeze and palm your tender, yielding curves as he grinds his hips against you forcefully.

"Such a little mortal" he growls in a deep tone. He could crush you without even trying... but why he should do that?

As the sorcerer pulls your limp, sleeping form against the throbbing heat of his crotch. He basks in the psionic feedback of your peacefully dreaming mind, aroused by its blissful innocence even as he feeds his corrupting taint into your subconscious.

His long tongue slithers out of his fanged maw, coiling between your parted lips to plunder the sweet recesses of your mouth. Deeper and deeper it plunges as he steals your breath away. What little air remains gets crushed from your lungs as he smashes his body against yours in an embrace.

But despite all of that, the mind-trick holds your consciousness fast. You remain completely unaware, slumbering on as a helpless dreamer in this waking nightmare.

"Exquisite..." The sorcerer's graveled whispers drip with heady arousal as he drags his rough calloused palms over every inch of your exposed skin.

With one overpowered tug, he rips away the flimsy rags covering your body. Now you lay nude and exposed, your most intimate places to his gaze. He feasts upon the glorious, forbidden vista with  eyes wide and shimmering with unholy ecstasy.

You're perfect. Every sumptuous curve and swell crafted with such artful elegance. Those ripe breasts, those sculpted feminine ridges and valleys, all brought into sharp relief by the Astartes' deeply lurid perception.

He trails his rough, calloused finger-pads over each exquisite inch of your prone flesh, drunk on the maddening sensory feedback. The texture, the warmth, the softness… like spun silk and liquid fire all at once.

His fanged maw gapes open in a silent moan as his grip grows more forceful and possessive. You remain dead to the world, locked away in his psychic trance.

A burning ache blossomed in his loins as he imagined all the things he could do. He could take his cock out and rut against your limp body right here, smearing your pretty face and tattered robes with ropy strands of hot semen. He could spread your thighs and shove himself into your vulnerable, unmapped entrance while you slept on, blissfully unaware.  

The thought made him shudder with blasphemous, warp-spawned ecstasy. He could defile you completely, utterly take possession of your mortal body for his own cravings. And you wouldn't remember a thing when the spell was lifted. Unless... he wanted you to.

Spurred on by this lack of resistance, the sorcerer's remaining inhibitions start to crumble like papyrus in a bonfire. His hands grow ever bolder and more rapacious, groping and mauling with shameless entitlement now. He sneers with sadistic glee as pale blue-purple bruises begin blossoming across your skin under his crushing grip.

You shift in his crushing grip, legs parting unconsciously as the psyker starts grinding his growing erection against your hips.

Your limp head lolls bonelessly, eyes closed and mouth slightly parted in a way that makes his cock throb. Groaning, he pulls your face against the sweaty cables of his neck and just breathes you in. Hands roaming, groping at the soft flesh of your rear and inner thighs. He hooks his fingers into the waistline of your skirt and briefs, tugging them down with a single, impatient yank.

Feverishly, he undoes his undercarriage, letting his huge, throbbing erection spring free in all its purplish, vein-laced glory. He groaned as his calloused palm wrapped around the swollen shaft, working the sensitive tip in slow, teasing strokes. Ropes of clear pre-seed immediately wept from his slit, painting your bare thigh in sticky trails. You didn't even flinch, totally enslaved in your sleep.

The psyker aimed his bloated cockhead at your exposed slit. He roughly shoving two fingers into your silken depths. You were drenched but still incredibly tight, an irresistible combination that made his cock jump needily.

With a feral grunt, he lined up the broad tip of his manhood and started pushing forward. Inch by deliciously snug inch, you were forced to accommodate his girth. Your body stretched around the invading member, your petals straining wide yet somehow accepting every last vein-ridged inch within.

The sorcerer gasped as your molten sheath swallowed him to the hilt.... you're so wet, so tight. He'd never experienced anything like the heavenly friction clenching down on his cock.

Unable to restrain himself a second longer, he pulled back until just his flared tip remained, then slammed home again. And again. His massive hips quickly worked up to a merciless piston, tramming his full length inside you over and over with a force.

All you could do was weakly squirm and whimper, mouth gaping in a silent scream as your womb was ruthlessly battered. But in your mind, you were drifting through shifting dreamscapes completely unaware of the blessed rapture rocking your mortal body.

So small, so damnably fragile... But taking every vein-slathered inch of a psyker's cock like it was nothing. He moaning, slamming you with each powerful thrust. His hands burned blistered prints into your delicate skin from how tightly he gripped your thighs.

The pistoning echoed loudly in the vaulted chamber. The sorcerer's amplified endurance and stamina meant he could have taken you for hours on end before feeling the need to peak. But the sleek, molten friction on his cock and the view of your helpless body quickly proved too much.

His growling breaths grew more labored as he chased his climax. His balls drew up tight, swollen with a massive backup of pent-up seed just waiting for release.

With a few more strokes, the psyker growl as he reached his limit. His jaw strained wide open in blissful torment as his cock spasmed violently, erupting thick ropes of burning issue straight into your waiting womb.

He hilted balls deep, trapped there in ecstasy as his cock throbbed and pulsed, absolutely flooding your depths with endless waves. It pumped into you in such massive quantities that his seed had nowhere to go, squirting back around his buried shaft in a hot, sticky rush.

The torrent of seed utterly stuffed your belly, rounding it into an obscene bulge until excess streamed down your thighs in ropy trails. He groaned gutturally, never having unleashed such a ferocious explosion of relief before.

Eventually, the last few weak spurts oozed from his tip. But still he didn't withdraw, hips remaining flush so his cock could marinate in that sloppy mess of frothing nectar and cream. He cradled you close, uncaring for the sticky mess as you laid bonelessly against his.

Your bruised, cum-stuffed body draped so perfectly over his own. Your soft, shallow breaths tickling his cheek as he nuzzled into the crook of your throat. He nipped at the sweat-pearled flesh there affectionately, fangs grazing without breaking skin as his hands roamed over your pleasantly rounded curves in reverent strokes.

What was this emotion settling over him? It wasn't lust or hunger driving him to use you l anymore. Those intense urges had been scratched, at least for the time being. No, this felt... more?

Like he wanted to do more for you. He wanted to protect you, care for you in a deeper sense. Keep you close by his side. He wanted you to feel comfort and pleasure, not just to provide your own.

Is this what being a "lover" felt like? Of course, he knew the definition of "lover" by heart. But....

Some profound emotional bond he may have sacrificed the ability to feel when he gave himself wholly to his new life. But looking at your marked, debased body somehow made him almost... wistful. As if he once knew something warm and beautiful that had been shorn away, leaving only this raw desire behind.

Maybe if it was him in the past, he could understand. He could not recall that ghost of his former self, no matter how his battered soul scraped those old wounds... but the longing remained all the same.

With a shuddery sigh, the psyker merely pulled you tighter against his. His corrupted flesh could no longer feel such superficial things like warmth or softness, yet he still clung to you with desperate fierceness. He would sate his lusts over and over again on your lush form until the next battle urged his abilities forth once more.

And until then... just maybe he could pretend, for a few fleeting moments at least, you were something more than that. Maybe you are his 'lover'

Just wait until you wake up…

****

The halls of the Immaterium were a formless void of madness and eternity. A place outside the constraints of linear time where even the most stalwart minds could be swallowed whole by the hellish tides of Chaos.

How long had he been adrift within that nightmarish un-reality? He'd lost all sense of self, allowing his immortal essence to fray and fragment amidst frenzies of eldritch horrors. Just another hollowed husk withering amongst the psychic howls echoing from distant, unknown dimensions.

Until... he felt it. A familiar spark amidst the madness, drawing his frenzied consciousness like a beacon in the abyssal murk.  

A soul - small, achingly mortal, yet blazing with the warm light of life he'd all but forgotten existed beyond the immortal pollution of the Immaterium. He instinctively anchored himself there, clawing his way back into the corporeal plane to coalesce around that guttering ember of temporal existence.

Reality bled back into shrieking focus all at once. The sorcerer gasped, feeling the first touch of atmosphere scorching his lungs after an endless sojourn breathing naught but howling insanity. His eyes snapped open, revealing a blasted cityscape that stank of death and plasmic fire.

Wails of anguish echoed all around him as refugees fled the ruins in panicked droves. Overhead, the roar of engines and explosions painted the smog-choked skyline in crimson and gold. He stood in the middle of a ruined crossroads, his armor thrumming with barely-leashed arcane might.

And there... huddled in the bombed-out remains of what may have been a domicile, he saw you. His anchor, his tether to sanity in this mortal realm. Clutching a tiny, frail thing to your breast and shaking with terror that etched lines of exhaustion into your face.

A child. Your child, he realized through the haze of recognition clouding his enhanced mind. So young, its life newly-kindled... but somehow already stamped with his brand. Intrinsically linked to his.

He remember it...

He came back for you.

He extended one taloned gauntlet, feeling ethereal tendrils of energy reaching out to the two terrified souls before him...

[beethovenus]

TS!UNDERSWAP Dev Diary: Koffin-K Party Member

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

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

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

(These are the only sprites I could find.)

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

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

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

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

We ended up making the following simplifications:

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

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

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

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

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

[buckingseason]

Obligatory Pinned post!

We decided to not make individual blogs for every single alter beceause that would take FOREVVERRR so here's our collective blog. You can call us collectively Buck, or individual alter tags work.

People participating here arent even CLOSE to our total, we're a polyfragmented DID system. Bodily 28, collectively a trans man and we use he/him for the most part but some alters might use others/have other genders. Generally bisexual generally switches.

We are TAKEN but happy to character RP and make friends, we dont send pics or sext.

Kinks here will include: CNC, stalking, freeuse, breeding, monsterfucking, weapons, pain, bondage, petplay, dehumanization, blackmail, sensory deprivation, intox including forced, somno, and more.

Not into: scat/piss/vom, incest/fauxcest, raceplay, ageplay, ddlg and variants

Active alters under the cut! Not everyone will be listed obviously, just whoever actively wants to post. If a post isn't tagged, assume its collective.

Arc (he/it)- Enjoyer of blackmail, stalking, kidnapping, impregnation, and more. More likely to post from the "main" blog we interact from, @voyeursfavourite Nonhuman in a slightly divine way.

J (he/it)- enjoyer of violence, blood, snuff and more! also has an individual blog at @capnbloodfreak. Pain enjoyer for ever and ever.

JJ (he/it)- Knifeplay enjoyer, sexually objectum, with his own blog at @biomechanicalslut. arguably more attracted to things than people, and also considers himself a thing.

B (he/him) - Likes gunplay, probably the most out of all of us. The guy who bit the bullet and made this damn thing.

TS (it/its)- Nonhuman, nonperson, enjoyer of dressing up pretty and being played with like a toy. Also enjoyer of beating the hell out of its partners.

R-(he/him)- Into CNC as the bottom exclusively, blackmail, and looooves praise. Blatantly nonhuman.

O (she/her) - Violent girl and probably a murderer. NOT into hard cnc as dom, but intox is fine. Coming around to theoretical CNC as the sub.

FM (he/it)- Dead guy into obsessive love and stalking, as well as somno and body worship.

K (he/him)- autoandrophila, hand and glove kink, #1 sad bear enjoyer of all time.

Ra (she/her) - medical, gore, monsterfucker and more. Prone to drug her partners "for science".

Six (he/him) - Way more tame than the bulk of the others so far, REPRESSED AS HELL! It takes him a lot of nerves or being destructively horny to post anything that's anything extensive. seems to be into hucow stuff, lactation and hypnosis, and openly is into sciencefet, breeding on either end of the deal, and has a praise kink. MONSTERFUCKER, and toying with the idea of snuff but he literally won't admit it.

[sirensplayhouse]

hii it’s ‘🪦’ anon. i wanted to come back for a quick second and share some stuff. recently, i’ve manifested so much stuff since i first sent an ask and even before that with only being in this year for two months.

month of janurary in order:

- my parents divorce being over after years (everything working out how we planned). this was also the reason i had got into LOA all those years ago, so i did cry for like a day straight, it was really my wakeup call.

- 2 week vacation to my favorite tropical area for the month of feburary (i just got back from traveling and i enjoyed myself sm)

- i tapped into the void state about two times that month as well. i affirmed for always being aware of when i’m in it.

- a healthier relationship with my family. the past few years i did struggle with feeling close with them but we’ve grown so much in a short amount of time now.

- 300 dollars worth of clothes + a skims dress (the package was gonna be way more and i had already spent a lot of money for the vacation in advance)

- three new pairs of desired shoes

- this was random but, my mom always gives me money monthly to spend freely or to save but i had already gotten that months worth. so i was like my mom is gonna give me more money, not even 30 minutes later she’s asking how much i wanted?? 😭😭

month of feburary in order:

- over the years my family has definitely gotten more lenient especially since i’m damn near grown LMAO but it feels nice to do stuff without feeling like there’s going to be consequences, so i manifested for my family to be more lenient with my desired things.

- to get rid of my cold/flu a few days before vacation. i had gotten “sick” (like a common cough and runny nose) from a family member. i haven’t been sick in years so i was genuinely pissed about it. i affirmed one night when i was sleepy to wakeup without the sickness, and when i woke-up it was gone.

- my sister got paid earlier than she expected. and the amount was a few more thousands than she normally would get. it was funny when she came to tell me because she always has to make a joke out of everything. 😭

- my mothers approval for more piercings and maybe even a tattoo? (probably not, i’d def pussy out LMDAOO)

- so this was the biggest one besides the divorce but we got offers for two homes. the same homes that we looked at years ago and it honestly freaked me out. i genuinely did want to move again so i could be closer to my friends house to hangout more (we both met through LOA about three years ago and just so happened to live almost an hour away). i glanced at both house listings online after talking to her and i believed that i was gonna move. NEXT DAY, MY MOM AND SISTER GOT TWO CALLS BACK TO BACK. so now we’re moving into both homes because of something that happened 😭 it’s not bad but it was funny. i’ll be there in less than a week so i’m excited!

- another thing that happened was earlier this month. i tapped into the void for fun through this guided hypnosis video post made by gorgeouslypink and i was curious. i didn’t have any intent on manifesting anything there nor did i actually think i was gonna go through with it. i laid down right after and i tapped into it immediately while following the last speaking. personally, i don’t feel the need for the void because at the end of the day, ts is a deep meditative state inside of me. manifesting in the void is instant, and so is manifesting any other way. i also texted my friend right before and after. she thought i was gonna do it another day by u disappeared for like an hour or two and she was shocked. i was gonna send proof of everything but idk how to do this shit through anon but changing the font tbh this is sad.

all of the stuff that i mentioned within these two past months were all manifested without using the void. i hope that this can bring more positivity and enthusiasm for a lot of people who’ll see this post. ofc you can use the void but realize your power, it all starts with you and ends with you. don’t forget that you promised yourself these things so give them to yourself. sending love 💓 i’ll check back in monthly probably bc this is fun sharing my experiences and using the pink font color 💟 see you next time!

babes……. HELLO YOU DID THAT🥺i’m so proud and happy for you ! 🫶🏾 you’re only gonna get better and better and i can’t wait🥰i hope you enjoy all you’ve manifested 🕺🏾and have an absolute ball

[ifuknomenoudont]

if you found this blog, congrats you get to see my most fucked up kinks!!

I’m saga, I go by she/her and sometimes he/him, certified genderfucked dykefag

I will not accept any follows or dms by anyone with no age in bio.

the mentioned kinks will be present but won’t be tagged: *ncest, detrans (both mtf and ftm), hypnosis, sex slavery, kn*ts and flares, slurs, porn addiction/gooning, and probably some more in forgetting

[dommesticpet]

Kink Advent Day 3 - In Technicollar

Yesterday, I opened a door and found a collar. We've never really done anything with collars, so that in and of itself was a big surprise. What I did not realize is that said collar also included a leash, which, well, that's a head trip. @dommesticpet had to be somewhere in the morning - and got home as I was going out to take care of something - but after? We tried the collar.

I had to kneel in front of her as she sat on the bed, but I'm a little tall so she stood up and put it on me. I haven't seen myself in it, but she seemed to have that little smile in her voice that indicates it must look good on me. It was a big black one, with the metal stuff to hook a leash to.. which she did, and I got pulled in to kiss her. I'm sure this is basic kink 101 stuff, but as we've never done it, it was new, and exciting, and hot. Hotttttt. How many ts should I put on there? Probably more. I know some of you out there have a collar, or bracelet, or something you wear all the time, but I don't. My go-to aesthetic as an adult is "boring" or "obscure t-shirt," mostly so I can pass through most spaces without answering a lot of questions.

I admit I don't know if it was too tight. I could fit four fingers in between it and my neck, and I think I heard "two" was usually good, so maybe I just have a weird neck. (Collar expertise and advice is welcome.) There was a lot of fun making-out on the edge of the bed, with her making little moans seeing me kneel certain ways which was surprising and fun! I'm not used to getting that kind of reaction out of people, and we've been together for a while now.

What's most interesting, though, and I hope that identifying this doesn't kill it - we didn't do any hypnosis at all. We were both fully dressed for most of this, which involved a lot of her doing dirty flirty Domme talk things that were fantastic because apparently my wearing a collar turns up the domme-o-meter up to 11. I had a hard time making eye contact and I couldn't exactly tell you why - I haven't had a lot of experience with things around my neck.

I can say it works for me. I assume I must look good in it, as she seemed to like the idea of a kneeling, collar-wearing, adult at her feet wearing a green sweater. (The most seductive color of markdown sweaters?) Given we're usually playing head games, it was exciting to experience someone else being in control with a more physical, direct approach. You see pictures of this stuff all over the place and go "hey that looks pretty hot," so it's nice to confirm "hey, this feels pretty hot!" too. If it felt differently and I just started doing Scooby-Doo voices instead, that would probably bring Kink Advent to an end pretty quickly.

Note: The collar was a collar, not a Collar. This wasn't some big deal thing, we're trying out a new toy and I would say a collar and a leash may just be the thing for you.

Note 2: Being winter, meaning "dried out skin season," my neck was a little dry. She said it was a little red after I took it off, so I don't know if that's due to it rubbing on my neck, or a reaction to the material, because as far as I know it was not too tight or really even tight. But maybe it could be and should be looser. (Again, expertise is welcome.) We'll probably test it when we're watching TV this week to see what happens.

Note 3: Day 2 was the item, day 3 was playing with the item. What's day 4? I don't know, you'd have to ask her.

[alexesguerra]

Auset Egyptian Oracle Cards: Ancient Egyptian Divination and Alchemy Cards ( Rockpool Oracle Card ) Auset Egyptian Oracle Cards: Ancient Egyptian Divination and Alchemy Cards (Rockpool Oracle Card Series) Paperback – October 1, 2018 by Elisabeth Jensen (Author), Marie Klement (Illustrator) --Brand New-- Auset Egyptian Oracle Cards give you the power to see and change your future. These 44 cards and guidebook offer access to the magical powers and sacred wisdom of Auset, Mother Goddess of Healing and Prophecy. Also known as Isis, the most loved of all the Egyptian goddesses, Auset imbues these cards with her divine intuition, which makes them highly accurate, specific, and reliable for personal and professional readings.All the major gods and goddesses of ancient Egypt offer their wisdom and guidance through the beautiful artwork of renowned spiritual artist Marie Klement and the spiritually inspired writing of Elisabeth Jensen, international teacher of Auset Temple Healing and triple award-winning psychic. About the Author Elisabeth Jensen once trained as a community health midwife and registered nurse, working in an intensive care unit. This background gave Elisabeth greater insight as a medical intuitive, and she later received her diploma in hypnosis, Reiki, and NLP before opening her Auset Temple Healing school. Elisabeth is also the author of the popular Isis Lotus Oracle Cards. Visit her at www.elisabethjensen.com.au. Marie Klement is a psychic artist, medium, clairvoyant, and numerologist based in South Australia. Her fine art paintings and drawings are featured regularly in national and international magazines, expos, and exhibitions. She has been specializing in drawing spirit portraits of passed loved ones since 1993. Product details Series: Rockpool Oracle Card Series Paperback: 112 pages Publisher: Rockpool Publishing (October 1, 2018) Language: English ISBN-13: 9781925682625 Product Dimensions: 4 x 1.2 x 5.8 inches Shipping Weight: 12 ounces

[wri0thesley]

Forever- Vampire!Lisa Lisa x Fem!Reader (Kinktober Day #16: Biting)

NSFW. 18+ ONLY. AFAB reader. Fem pronouns. Vampire Lisa Lisa, biting, blood, possible dub-con/hypnosis (your mileage may vary depending on how you read it - i think of this all as entirely consensual). 

You are in search of the Lady of the Island.

The man steering the boat had not wanted to take you out to Air Supplena Island. He had been most insistent of the fact that the moment your feet touched solid ground on the island, he would be turning back - his mouth had set in a grim line, his eyes shadowed. 

“I ain’t gonna be responsible for her findin’ me trespassing on her land,” he’d said. “N’ if you ask me, you’re a damn fool to be goin’ no matter what.”

You had still tipped him, of course. He had been the only man with a boat who’d been willing to even make the trip, as little time as he would spend on Air Supplena Island’s shore notwithstanding. You had sat in his boat with your hands folded in your lap and your posture ramrod-straight, anxiety gnawing through to your bones; but you would not rest. You would not turn back. You had followed the legends and the whispers of who the lady of the island was for too long and tried too hard to waste all of your hard work because your fear held you back at the last moment. 

You step off his boat and onto the island proper with your purse significantly lighter and evening filtering out the last vestiges of the day’s sunlight. You turn to thank the man who brought you here, feeling unsteady and afraid - to see that he has turned around with a second glance at you. 

He thinks you are mad, and perhaps you are. 

You are slow as you approach the buildings themselves, aware that night is falling all around you. All of this, from one brief encounter in a warm speakeasy and a beautiful woman at your side? 

She had kissed you, once, and you had tasted danger on her lips and felt it when her hands had caressed the shape of you in your ugly dress. The entirety of the world had seemed to stop - everything had become unimportant to you, except her lips and the way her eyes seemed to shift ruby tones in the low candlelight. You had been dragged here by the young lady you had been hired to be the ladies companion of; whilst her parents had clearly thought you’d be a good influence on her, they had also not reckoned on the wild streak in her nature. 

So you had been dragged along to all kinds of seedy underground places she should not have known about. You had always stayed in the background, watched, tried to make sure she did not get into too much trouble, waiting to intervene just in case she overstepped that small boundary. But it had been in a smoky underground cavern in Paris (“The fashion capital of the world!” Your charge and companion had told you. “You simply must wear something more fetching than that old thing.” You had not acquiesced.) that had changed you forever. 

“Come find me,” she’d breathed against your neck, and you had felt something sharp scratch briefly across the join where your neck and shoulder met. “You could be so much more than this. I’ll show you.”

And she had gone, and you had not been able to shake her lips from your mind for months. 

Your companion had noticed but thought it prudent not to say anything; even in the free-spirited nineteen thirties, she was not quite ready to accept that she had seen your eyes glaze and your mouth part for another woman. But she had noticed your distraction; that you were less hard on her for going against her parent’s wishes, that you were wistful and maudlin and daydreaming about the night - eventually, she had taken pity on you and come to you to relieve you of your service with an early pay packet of far more than you’d expected.

“I went back,” she said, off-handedly, though her shoulders were tense. “To that seedy little place in Paris. They told me her name was Lisa Lisa - the lady of yours. They called her the Lady of the Island, though I don’t know which one. She’s Italian, apparently - or she makes her home there, now. Don’t ask me anything else. I don’t know it.”

You’d looked at her, slowly, some of your lethargy fading away as you’d felt a hum beneath your skin of promise. 

“Thank you,” you’d said - and you’d left the next day for Italy. 

It had not been easy. Though your purse was heavy with your payment for a year spent travelling Europe, you were aware that you were plain and simple and prime victim material for shoplifters and men of opportunity. You had stayed in lodgings that were out of the way, perhaps shoddier than what you could and should have afforded, giving them all the same story; you were in search of an older brother who had ran away and had last been seen in the company of a lady that he called the ‘Lady of the Island’. 

You did not get your first bite until you had found yourself in Venice, in a small art shop by a canal. The piece itself was of an island, all gothic cathedral imagery and towering columns; you’d been looking at it, and the proprietor and artist had come to stand beside you. 

“That’s Air Supplena Island,” he had said to you, obviously able to tell that you were not a local. “They say that the Lady of the Island lives there and slaughters anyone who comes close.” He had shrugged broad shoulders. “I don’t believe it myself, but people will cling to their stories, won’t they?”

You’d beseeched him to tell you more, trotting out that tired old story - that you had become tired of telling, as weeks had grown into months - and his nose had wrinkled, brows drawn down. 

“Oh, the Lady of the Island isn’t interested in men,” he’d said, and the stress he’d put on the last word had convinced you that you were on the right track. You had done your best to tamp down enthusiasm as you’d asked and probed about Air Supplena Island - and as you left, you hid your smile behind your hand as you’d bid the man a good night. 

You had wanted to employ somebody to take you to the Island as soon as you could, but you had done your best to be sensible. You asked around a little more, probing for information about this Lady - having your suspicions of her legend confirmed. 

“They say that she bathes in the blood of virgins,” one older woman had told you. “They say that she will drink a man dry if he so much as breathes in her presence,” - another. “They say that the buildings on her land are made of bones and teeth.”

They confirm what you had thought; that  the woman you met in the smoky jazz and the press of bodies is something more than human. The idea should fill you with fear. You should have gotten as far away from Italy as you could; instead, the thought of her inhumanity sets heat aflame between your thighs and makes your heart hammer in your chest. 

If she kills you, you think, you will die happy. At least you won’t dream about her any more - the silky sweep of her hair, the curve of her lips, pinpricks sliding into the soft flesh of your thighs. Your shoes sound very loud on the stone, as shadows begin to claim the island entirely. You continue to walk. 

You imagine you hear whispers, rustling, the sound of shadows converging and waiting to be told to jump upon you and consume you entirely - still, you walk. And when the foreboding wooden doors that you think give entrance to the vast majority of the building that dominates Air Supplena Island open as if by unseen forces, you do not question yourself - you walk forward, into the entrance hall. 

“I thought you’d come.”

The voice is amused. It is low, and deep - shivering with suggestion in every syllable. You recognise it as the same voice that has haunted your dreams since the first time you heard it. You stop where you are, transfixed as she seems to melt from the shadows, just as beautiful and statuesque as you remember. Her skin seems to shimmer like mother of pearl in the moonlight; her lips are redder than blood, her eyes dark and beautiful. She looks at you and smiles, and you see the faintest flash of sharp eye teeth - and immediately, a rush of confusing feelings tumblr all around inside you.

She’s beautiful. She’s terrifying. You know the rumours are true, from her easy stance and her elegance and how she looks at you like a cat stalking a canary - but you cannot find it in yourself to be afraid. Instead, you feel your thighs slick with desire and your body ache to be touched. If she wished to bathe in your blood . . . you think you would open your veins for her. All she need do is ask.

She steps towards you like a leopard hunting her prey, though you have no intention of running anywhere. Her hips move seductively with each step, her eyes not moving from you for a moment - you take in a deep, shuddering breath as she gets closer and closer to you, waiting for her to pounce. You imagine you’ll see your own neck snap as if from very far away - you wonder if the man who brought you here on his boat is even now laughing at your terrible fate.

“Oh,” she breathes, as she gets closer. “Look at you. You found me all on your own, hmm? I knew that you’d be a perfect choice.”

“Are you going to kill me?” You ask her, softly. She stops in front of you, raising a hand to your face - her thumb ghosts your cheekbone, traces the lines of your lips, and all you can do is let her. Everywhere she touches you feel trails of fire spring up in her wake, your body singing in a way that you don’t think it ever has. 

“If I were going to do that, dear heart,” she whispers, “you would have been dead before you step foot on my island.”

You swallow as she tips your face upwards, studying you in the pale moonlight. You wonder if you’re pleasing to her - the thought makes you feel curiously hot and bothered. You have never put much stock in your appearance, but if it has helped to win her attentions . . . surely you cannot be that unfortunate to look upon?

She laughs as if she can read your mind. 

“You’re extremely pleasing,” she says - and then, she kisses you. 

-

Lisa Lisa - she gives you her name like a secret, and you whisper it against the cool marble of her collarbone, marvelling at how it rolls around in your mouth - has you in her chambers in what feels like moments, though you know it must be longer. Her fingers dance over your skin, working open the buttons and hooks of your plain dress - when it falls from your body, you want to pull yourself in and shy away, but she is above you on the bed and she sighs against you, her breath cool. 

“Look at you, little flower,” she murmurs. “You’re beautiful. Ripe for the plucking.”

Her nails scratch sharp across your sides as she caresses the curve and dip of your hips and waist. Her hands take hold of your breasts, testing their warmth and weight, squeezing them so that your back arches and a soft noise of surprise escapes you. She bends her head and the sheet of her hair falls across your skin, a silky sweep that has goosebumps rising along your newly bared flesh. 

Her mouth fastens about one nipple, her tongue teasing the nubs to hardness. You have only ever touched yourself under sacrosanct cover of darkness, chaste and afraid - but Lisa Lisa is not at all shamed by how she enjoys your body. She holds you as if it’s perfectly natural to do so, and though you feel exposed, you also feel . . . beautiful. Like something precious to be held against her and kissed and stroked. 

“You’ll do beautifully,” she whispers, moving her mouth from your breast to kiss up your collarbones, to trace the fluttering pulse point in your neck. She traces your jawline with her lips, up to your ear - you gasp as she nips at your earlobe. “Oh, you were wasted anywhere but by my side.”

“What will you do to me?” You ask her, breathlessly, as she rears up onto her knees and reaches to tug off her own clothes. You are transfixed by her figure, slowly revealed to you beneath the fine fabrics she’s wearing. She’s like a Greek statue - marble, untouchable, unmarked. Only . . . she takes your hands, brings them to her hips, lets you feel how smooth and cool and soft she is. 

“Nothing you won’t like,” she says - and as she dives back down to kiss you again with the hunger of someone who’s been starved for a week, you do not doubt her. 

As she kisses you, nipping with her blunt front teeth at your lower lip, her hands urge your thighs apart. You feel ashamed to spread them - especially as you hear the wet sounds of them parting - but she breaks the kiss to inhale deeply. 

“I forget, that mortals are so warm,” she says, as one of her hands slides up your inner thigh, nails teasing at the sensitive skin. “You’re boiling to the touch, my darling. You’re hot and warm and soaking wet - did you know?” The last words are conversational, her middle finger swiping through your damp slit, briefly parting your labia lips as your hips arch and a whimper falls unbidden from your lips. 

“I haven’t done this before . . .” You say, your cheeks uncomfortably warm - and Lisa Lisa laughs, a rich, deep noise that feels like black silk running down your spine. 

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she tells you. “I’ve done this many times - and you’ll have plenty of time to learn it too. For now . . . relax, dearest. Lay back on the bed. Let me take care of you.”

There’s a sharp edge to the words; even as you let yourself relax into the soft coverlets beneath you, you feel like she is asking for permission for more than she lets on. Still - you cannot think, at this moment, what you would deny her. Not as she spreads your thighs even wider, those same nails scratching at your skin so your spine prickles, her fingertips leaving blazing trails despite how cool they feel against you. 

She makes sweet, soft noises - like placating a baby animal - as your thighs jump as she parts the lips of your sex, exposing those slickened folds to the chill of the air. 

“Look at you,” she says, enthralled. “Oh, I have picked beautifully--”

You do not know what she means, when she speaks of choosing you. But her fingers are stroking your folds, now - teasing at your clit and your entrance, making your entire body sing, and you cannot concentrate on anything but how that feels and the way that the fabric beneath your fingers bunches up as you fist hands into sheets. 

You are sensitive. Your body reacts with shivers and shudders; little electrical currents going straight from the place between your legs to every other part of you, sending signals of white-hot pleasure to your brain. As she slides one elegant finger inside you and your sex clamps tightly about her, she laughs a noise of soft amusement. 

“We’ll train you to take more, my dear,” she says, and she pumps the lone finger in and out of you, rubbing against sensitive patches inside of you that have your hips wriggling. You’re aware that you are making little noises - whimpering and moaning, gasping out noises intended to be words. Her lips are a dark red curve in the white of her face. Her thumb swipes across your clit, rolling the bud beneath the pad, toying with the swollen little bundle until you whine. 

“You’ll take another,” she says, softly, and you nod - a sob bubbles in your throat at the brief stretch of two, scissoring you open and wider for her - but it quickly devolves into a groan as your hips cant forwards towards her, urging her to be more thorough in how she’s thrusting the fingers and and out of you. She makes a little chastising noise, clicking her tongue - but you can hear the pleasure in her tone as she murmurs. “Now, now. One thing at a time.”

It’s good. It’s so good. The way her thumb grinds against your clit, the way that her fingers rub against those sweet spots inside of you, the feeling of fullness and the sweep of her hair and the knowledge of who it is and what she is that’s making you feel like this . . . Your body seems to seize up, teetering on the edge of something - and, abruptly, fingers are pulled out of you and the pressure on your clit ceases. You whimper out a noise of confusion and distress; that you were so close to something wonderful, and had it torn away--

“One more thing, before I let you come,” Lisa Lisa says, her lips that perfect red curve again. “Creatures like me do not do things for free, you see.”

“I’ll do it,” you say, feverishly - her index finger lazily strokes your folds, toying with your clit in a way that makes you shudder and your head feel cloudy and strange. “Wh-whatever it is . . .”

Lisa Lisa leans down, kissing the mound of your sex. Your back arches as her tongue flicks out, briefly darting to taste you. She makes a noise of sheer pleasure at the wetness on her tongue that intensifies the ache inside of you and makes you feel as if a curtain is descending all over your judgement. Slowly, she laps at you again - her tongue rolling your clit luxuriously, slow rocks of pleasure overwhelming you. 

“You’d agree before hearing my terms?” She says, though she does not sound at all surprised - if anything, her tone is pleased. “You’d trust me so completely, even knowing what I am?”

She does not tell you what she is. She hasn’t - you have known since far before you stepped foot onto her island, and perhaps even before you’d made it to Italy. She knows that you know.

“You can have my blood,” you tell her, wildly, without thinking. “Just, please--”

She pulls back again. Her body moves over you like a cat once more, so that her face is close to yours and her cool breath brushes your cheek. Her breasts press against your own, one marble-smooth thigh between your own legs. 

“I want more than blood from you,” she says. “I want you to stay with me, here. Forever.” Her hands trace your hips, cold as she grasps you. “You deserve more than a boring little life and a boring little husband. I can make you a Goddess, my darling. I can make you feared and loved and reviled; I can make you like me. I can give you a life by my side.” She lowers her mouth, pressing her lips to your cheek. Your entire body feels like stone. 

“You already knew what I wanted from you, didn’t you, my clever girl?” Hands sliding over your thighs, her body moving. Your legs spread wider, urging her hand and her fingers back between them. She laughs, like a bell tolling. “You’ve known since you walked into my home.”

“Yes,” you say. “Yes. To all of it.”

(You have known, this whole time - since those first words and the promise you were made for better things than this. It had taken her touching you and feeling you and driving you to the brink of release to see it clearly, but now you can - you can see you by her side for eternity.)

“My good girl,” she breathes - and, as her fingers dive inside you again, three pressing against the walls of your sex and clenching around her, her thumb grinds back into your clit. Her fangs slide into your throat. 

Both of them feel like fireworks in entirely different ways - low between your thighs, like a man diving into the sea, your body all flaming hot wetness as a tidal wave of heat and need crash over you. In your throat, an explosion of colours and sounds as your head is tipped back and you feel the wetness and heat of your own blood cascade down your body. The rhythmic sucking of Lisa Lisa’s lips against you coupled with the rhythmic way she rocks her fingers into you.

You let your eyes close, the sensations wash over you. It’s the first of many, she said. The first day of the rest of your life. 

The two of you have an eternity now, after all.

[shapa-likes-art]

Haha, school's started back up again

Take this small meme I made

Reblogs are highly appreciated

[sablesides-writing-corner]

Can You Do “Shhh. Don’t try to think. I will think for you.” With Anxceit? (Also, Are You Okay Cori? You Need A Hug Or Something??)

Neither Virgil nor Janus were really sure how they ended up in a relationship.

All they knew was that one moment that growled and snarled and hissed if one so much as glimpsed the other.

And the next Virgil was desperately clinging to Janus' capelet like it was a life preserver, to say nothing of what happened when he took it off.

They still hated each other of course, that was what they told everyone.

This was a relationship of convenience and nothing else.

Merely a result of Virgil's poor decision making and self preservation skills.

"Gods could you be any louder?." Virgil snarled, slamming his fists on his vanity counter.

"I could, yes, but I get the feeling you're being rhetorical arent you darling?" Janus said with a smirk.

"Dont you darling me you slimey eccentric little-" Virgil was caught midsentence by a kiss to the lips, which he melted into almost instantaneously.

"You were saying, darling?"

"Gods you make it impossible to think sometimes dotn you." Virgil groaned.

"Well maybe you shouldnt think at all, it doesn't suit you very well," Janus said, caressing Virgil's cheek.

"Yeah right, me, stop thinking, let me know when you think you can fix that." Virgil shot back.

"Actually, I can," Janus said with a smirk, producing a pocket watch from his. . . Pocket.

"Hypnosis? Seriously? You know that doesnt actually work right." Virgil said, staring in disbelief.

"Just sit down." Janis ordered, Virgil complied, albeit with a large hint of annoyance.

He watched as Janus let the watch dangle in front of him.

Watched as it swayed.

Left

Right

Left

Right

Left

Right

He was starting to feel sleepy, eyelids heavy and the world a hazed and blurry mess.

"Dont bother thinking anymore. . . I will think for you,"

What had they been arguing about? Why did they even argue, Janus always won didnt he? There wasnt really a point in it.

"How do you feel darling?" Virgil let out a purr as he felt Janus' fingers dragging under his chin.

"I love you. . ." Virgil muttered.

"I love you too darling," Janus replied, the faintest hint of sadness in his voice.

[delimeful]

Since it depends on their stubbornness... How resistant would Virgil in particular, not just general humans, be from Remyys hypnosis?

Anonymous said: Petition for Remyy to hypnotise Virgil into having a good night's rest for once

if wary (like he always is), virgil would be very resistant to hypnosis. even if he was trying to let himself be hypnotized-- for example to try and sleep better-- he’d probably still have a lot of trouble with allowing it.

[loganisanobody]

A Scar to Remember

@badthingshappenbingo

tags: unsympathetic!janus (sort of), royalty au, vampires, hypnosis, trance, torture, assumed death, betrayal, dragon witch

inspired in part by @ironwoman359's Close Your Eyes and Dream of Me (which, yes, makes this the second fic I've written inspired by that fic)

*****

"Listen to me, we need to get you out of here. I'll explain later but we need to go now."

Roman stared at Virgil. He seemed so serious, but what could possibly be happening? There were guards throughout the castle, at Virgil's insistence, so no one could have gotten in. Virgil himself could be kidnapping him, but Virgil was smart enough to not let something like Roman's whim up to chance. Or was he smart enough to know Roman would listen to whatever he said…?

"Roman!" Virgil hissed, bringing Roman to the present.

Roman nodded. "Let's go."

They headed down the tunnel, following narrow hallways and steep sets of stairs built into the walls. How had Virgil even known this was here, or that the entrance was behind a painting in Roman's room?

They walked in silence, Virgil leading the way with a torch, though he turned his head often to check behind them.

Finally, they came to the bottom of a set of stairs and the hallway widened and led straight on for a while. Roman figured they must be below ground now, and if his sense of direction was correct, they were headed away from the castle.

He and Virgil were walking side-by-side now, and Roman glanced over at his knight.

Virgil noticed and sighed. "I guess you'll be wanting that explanation now."

Roman wanted to say something snarky, but he could see the tension in Virgil's shoulders, jaw, eyes… his whole being bearing a load of seriousness and worry. Instead, he nodded. "Please."

"The dragon-witch has taken over the castle, taken over the minds of your guards. I was able to get away, and luckily found you before she did…"

Roman stared at Virgil, then looked behind them to where his castle was.

"And we ran away?!"

"What would you have me do, Roman?!" Virgil turned to him and shouted. "She had your guards, your servants, your advisors! We wouldn't know who we could trust, and we wouldn't dare hurt them even when we couldn't trust them. They'd overpower us before we got down the hall from your bedroom."

Roman was quiet as he noticed the tears in Virgil's eyes. Roman knew Virgil was very close with his fellow knights and guards. To know they were under a spell so malicious must be tearing him apart.

"I am sorry, Virgil," he said quietly. "I just… I hate running away. I'm the king. The king shouldn't be a coward."

"Sometimes running isn't cowardly. Sometimes it shows strength, planning, a cool and clear head."

"Not to some people."

"To the people who matter."

They continued in silence for a while before coming to another set of stairs that led upward.

Virgil led the way up, carefully opening a door at the top of the stairs into a bare room.

The door they came from and a door opposite were the only exits from the room, and the only things adorning it.

"Sorry there's nowhere to sit. We were hoping to never have to use this place," Virgil said in a hushed voice, locking the door to the tunnel.

"We?"

"Logan was with me when we discovered the entrance in your room. We told Patton. The three of us inspected and, er, renovated the place to make it safer. It was a bit worn down when we found it. Now, no one can get in."

"Ah… so… we wait here?"

"Yup."

"Until…?"

Virgil paused. "Um… until everything dies down a bit… and I come up with a plan…"

"We could come up with a plan," Roman offered.

Virgil rolled his eyes. "Your idea of a plan is to run in, swords blazing."

Roman made an offended sound, but was cut off in his retort by a scream outside.

"Roman!"

Both their eyes went wide.

"Patton," Roman breathed.

Virgil had to stop him as he rushed to the front door.

"No, Roman! You open that door, you let them in!"

"Yeah, that's kind of the point."

"No, you let the dragon-witch in. Without that door, you have no protection. You can't open it. Not until we're ready."

"Ready to what, fight? I'm ready to fight!"

Virgil shook his head. "Have you forgotten what I said? She has our people under her control. Patton may not be in any actual danger, but you will if you open the door."

"Oh Roman~" a woman's voice called out. "Aren't you going to save your little friend? He's so soft and tender, I could cut him open with just my pinky nail."

Patton let out another scream.

Roman pushed against Virgil's grip. "I can't leave him," he growled.

"And what will you do? You don't even know how many of them are out there."

"Yeah, good job thinking of windows."

"Glass is breakable, and less easy to magically protect. You know we don't have a strong magician."

"Okay, well what's your plan? They'll just wait us out. If they have Patton and Logan, they'll find the other entrance and trap us on either side. We'll have to give up or starve."

Virgil froze, and Roman took the opportunity to push past him and rush to the door.

"Roman, no!"

Roman flung open the door and was immediately pushed out of the way. As he fell, he heard a scream. He turned to see Virgil in the doorway, surrounded by a yellow glow, as he screamed in pain.

"Virgil!"

Before Roman could get up, the glow subsided and Virgil dropped to his hands and knees, breathing heavily.

"Good job, my pupil. Now, go get our prize."

Footsteps crunched through dirt and grass, walking up to the door until a figure appeared. Before Roman could finish his first step toward Janus, the latter had flicked his hand, suspending Roman in the air without even looking at him. Janus crouched in front of Virgil and grabbed the knight by the hair and yanked his head up.

Virgil growled at him.

Janus smirked. "Good to see you, too, my friend. But, sadly, I'm not here for you. So I'll leave you with a gift." In one swift movement, he took a dagger from his belt and slid it along Virgil's cheek, cutting a deep gash into his skin. Virgil hissed in pain.

"A scar to remember the day you failed your king." Janus smirked at Virgil's glare, then flipped the dagger in his hand and hit Virgil over the head with the butt of it, letting go of Virgil's hair so the knight collapsed limply to the floor.

"Virgil!" Roman cried.

Janus stood, sheathing the dagger, then waved his hand as he turned and walked away. Roman, still magically suspended, followed him out the door and to the dragon witch.

Patton stood nearby with a bunch of Roman's guards, all staring blankly into the distance.

The dragon witch, though, watched gleefully as Roman floated up to her.

"Very good, my pupil. You are progressing well. We'll have to show our dear king more of what you can do when we get to the castle."

"You won't get away with this," Roman growled.

"I don't have to get away with anything, your highness. I'm here to stay."

*****

They brought him back to his own castle at first, but found the dungeon "lacking", so he was relocated a few days away to the dragon witch's lair, where the dungeon was much more… furnished.

Roman didn't know how long he had been there, he was hardly aware of anything except pain and exhaustion.

"I won't… I won't…" he mumbled as the interrogator did his work.

He didn't see it, but the interrogator shot him a dirty look then rolled his eyes.

"Take him back to his cell. We're not getting anything more out of him today."

The guards started to take Roman down, when more guards burst in the door. "There's an issue, sir."

The interrogator turned back to Roman's guards. "Take him to the secure location while I see what the situation is."

The guards nodded and dragged Roman out of the room, turning a different direction than usual. They dragged him further into the dungeon, the hallways getting darker and darker as they went, until they came to an end of the hallway and a door. They dragged him into the room and attached his chain to the wall so that he sat with his arms raised. Then they left.

By the time Roman heard footsteps again, he had recovered somewhat and was more conscious of his surroundings.

"Ah, I see you're awake. Good. I have news for you."

The interrogator tossed a lump of fabric at Roman's feet.

It was dark in the room except for the interrogator's torch, but Roman could make out the color of the fabric: royal violet. He held in a gasp.

Purple dyes were reserved for royalty, but Roman had never been partial to the color, himself. So he allowed his head knight to don the royal color.

Virgil's cloak lay now at his feet, and it was covered in blood.

"I'll leave this here for you to process."

The interrogator left Roman staring at the garment, clinging to any sight of it in the diminishing light.

It was when he could no longer see the cloak that the tears started to come, and he let out a sob.

*****

Roman woke up to the sound of footsteps, and he tensed. 'I won't give up the kingdom. I won't. I won't…' he started to repeat in his mind, steeling himself. It was hard not to think about the cloth at his feet, or what it meant.

The door opened.

"I won't give up the kingdom!" Roman yelled, closing his eyes to hold back tears.

"Well, that's good, Princey."

Romans eyes shot open and he looked up. "V-Virgil?"

Virgil knelt down next to him with a soft smile. "It's me, Roman. Sorry it took so long." He reached up to unchain Roman from the wall, and Roman looked down at the cloth in front of him.

Virgil helped him put his arms down carefully, though they still were incredibly sore and stiff.

"Am I dead?" Roman asked quietly.

"You better not be."

Roman's head shot up, tears still clinging to his lashes. He didn't know why he suddenly felt angry.

"You're going to joke?! Here I am in a dungeon for who knows how long, thinking you're dead and I'm dead, and you're going to joke?!"

Virgil looked stricken, and Roman reeled at his own outburst.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"

Virgil moved, and Roman was surrounded by a new warmth. He sobbed, melting into Virgil's embrace.

"I'm sorry, Roman," Virgil murmured as Roman's sobs died down. "I'm sorry I let them get you, I'm sorry they hurt you, I'm sorry it took me so long to find you—"

"Stop, stop." Roman shook his head. "If I don't stop you now, you'll keep going and we'll never get out of here."

"Yeah, when were you going to get out of here?" came a voice above them. Virgil whipped around, drawing a dagger.

Janus held up his hands. "I'm not here to fight. I'm here to help, if you want me."

"Why would we want help from you?" Virgil snarled.

"Because they're still fighting out there, and if you want to get our beat-up king out of here safely, I know a back way to take him."

"And why should we trust you?"

"You shouldn't. Not now anyway. But I've always… always hoped you would again someday." Janus looked away.

Roman looked at him in a stunned, semi-lucid stupor, but Virgil still seemed to have his wits about him. "You're not really making your case, there, snake."

Janus flinched. "I… I left to get better at magic. Though she's evil, the dragon witch is one of the best wizards in the land. I thought if I could pretend to betray you and gain her trust, I could learn from her and… be a better wizard for Roman." He looked at Virgil seriously. "I know that, as I never told anyone of this plan, I have no proof of my intentions. But I have learned much and am ready to fight for Roman and his kingdom, not against it."

Virgil squinted distrustfully, but Roman reached out and touched his arm. "I… I may not be in my right mind… but I think he's telling the truth."

Virgil paused, and looked back at Janus. "You understand you will be subjected to questioning, punishment, and have to work your way back into our trust."

"I'd rather do all of that than be the dragon witch's apprentice any longer."

Virgil squinted again, then nodded. "Lead the way. And if this is a trap…"

Janus nodded gravely. "I understand."

*****

"So, first question—"

"Oh, we're doing this now."

Virgil poked a log further into the fire, then looked into the trees around them. "There'll be a more thorough questioning at the castle, but one thing bothers me: what was this?" He gestured to the cut on his cheek. "'A scar to remember the day you failed your king?'"

Janus stared at him blankly from across the fire.

Roman stirred in his sleep next to Virgil.

"Care to explain yourself? If all you were doing was gathering knowledge, this was a bit unnecessary."

Janus looked away, and remained quiet for a moment before quietly asking, "Was that from when we kidnapped Roman?"

Virgil furrowed his brow in confusion. "Y-yes. It was. Are you saying you don't remember?" He scoffed. "Poor excuse to get out of answering a question."

Janus shook his head. "It's not that I don't remember. I never knew." He looked at Virgil. "I didn't learn all I wanted to. I'm not as strong as the dragon-witch. But I needed to leave. I…" He looked down at the fire. "I started blacking out a few weeks ago. I didn't know what was happening, but I knew it wasn't good. I found out recently the dragon-witch had me under… some sort of trance. I had no idea what I was doing. If I hurt you… I'm sorry. That day, I blacked out when we got to the hut, and came back to see Roman floating in the air, by my own magic, and you passed out in the doorway. I knew then I had to get away from the dragon-witch, before she made me do any more harm."

"And how do I know you're not under this 'trance' now? And why did your 'trance' look different than the others’?"

"Roman's brother got to me. He pulled me out of the trance, I hope for good, just like he was pulling others out of theirs. And… I don't know. I suppose mine was of a deeper, more complex magic than what it took to take over your guards. Remus did give me an odd look before continuing to the next victim."

Virgil mulled over this for a bit, calling his mind back to the battle, if it could be called that.

It had been utter chaos — Remus leading his vampire clan to break the trances on Roman’s people, only to have them turn around to fight the dragon-witch’s guards so that Virgil could get into the dungeon.

Of course the dragon-witch herself was furiously trying to fight and cause chaos of her own, making the battle that much harder as Roman’s people couldn’t know who to trust.

Virgil hated to admit it, but Janus finding him and Roman had probably saved them, because they were able to get Roman out and away, and Janus was able to send a magical message to some key people on Roman’s side to get everyone out of there.

Virgil only hoped they had been able to.

They sat in silence for a while, the heaviness of the past’s events hanging between them, until Janus shifted to lay down.

“I hope,” Janus thought he heard over the sound of his own clothes rustling, and he paused. Even then, it was a quiet moment or two before Virgil spoke again, softly, “I do hope you are telling the truth, Janus. However that may come back to bite me in the end.”

[witchcraft-in-wonderland]

The Rose Prince (Pt.2)

-------------------------

When Roman awoke it was with a feeling of pain twisting his gut, and certainly not the easily fixed aches and pains he dealt with once a month, no, this was something else, something he couldnt seem to place.

And then he remembered, the princes, the castle, the fact that after today, he would be whisked away to yet another castle with people he barely knew.

He slid off the bed and glanced up at his closet, wherein hung a lacy red and white knee-length dress, which he put on after adjusting his binder. He pulled on some white leggings and white socks, finishing the look with red boots.

He had barely even cracked open the door before he was dragged by the arms into the dining room, all this pushing and shoving business was beginning to get very annoying.

He scanned the table quickly before sitting down, his mothers were each sitting on different ends of the table, Remus and his fiance's on one side, and Roman and his on the other.

Roman had never felt smaller in his life, both physically and metaphorically. He waited as the staff asked each visiting princes what they might like to eat, no input was taken from the royal family themselves.

"Are you not eating? Surely that cant be healthy," Janus was the first to speak up about the strangeness of the situation.

"We eat what we are given, it is not for us to decide what our homeland provides," Roman said, Remus tried to copy, but he sounded as though he would rather be throwing up instead.

"Oh- I see-" Janus said, his tone even more worried now. Roman waited patiently as food began to arrive, forcing himself not to look hungrily at the plates of pancakes and waffles and grits and eggs.

It wasnt until everyone else was halfway done with their own meals that the royal family received their own, a bland plate of oatmeal, toast, and a glass of water. But, at least they had options of butter and jam.

Now that Roman thought about it, he realized how odd the blandness of the food really was compared to the rest of the things about the palace, how dull his life was compared to the brilliance of the gardens, and the detailed intricacies of the palace walls.

But he couldnt think about it for to long, lest he begin to think aloud.

So he ate the food in silence, hoping his prince's were to busy with their own meals to pay him any mind. The food left on odd taste in his mouth, but he supposed that could have just been his own sour mood carrying over to his other senses.

"You will of course be having your marriage ceremonies today," Elizabeth said, her tone sharp, which was in stark contrast to the soft pastels and white colors she had adorned.

"Yes mother, of course," Roman and Remus said in unison.

"Remus will be first, as his will involve a coronation as well," Belladonna took over as her wife finished speaking.

"I understand, mom," Remus said, pausing slightly before finishing his sentence, Roman grasped at his seat, the sinking feeling returning to his stomach. Those arent real lines! Remus are you trying to get yourself killed! Was all he could think.

"Roman, until there ceremony you will be with a watcher, Aldaric, he will help you get ready," Belladonna continued.

"Of course mother," Roman said, his skin felt cold. Remus had told him stories about watchers, how they'd looked over families for centuries, made sure they were behaving as necessary, watchers were the people who maintained the training palace, fixing the machines, and, when necessary, adding new ones.

But Roman wasnt keen on becoming a new addition, so when told to do so, despite barely even touching his food, he left.

He would not be allowed to see Remus' coronation, nor his wedding, he knew that, those events were for officials and parents, Roman was just barely in line for the crown.

But, even if he could not see it live, he would be allowed to watch through screens. Though even this option hurt, he could still so clearly see the bitterness in Remus' face.

The expression softened during the wedding, he looked almost as if he was happy, until a row of three goblets were brought out. It was then that Roman realized he had a goblet of his own placed on a nearby desk.

He decided to get it over with as soon as possible, the liquid burned in his throat, he felt numb.

The room seemed cloudy after that, almost as if he were dreaming, he felt happier somehow.

The time seemed to go faster after that, the only things he remembered were his dress fitting, and rehearsing his lines until he stopped feeling the sting of a ruler on his wrists, he felt like a child again, unable to answer questions on math or english or any of those important subjects, oh how he wished he could have been given a paintbrush instead.

White bracers were placed around his wrists and arms to cover up the raw skin, and a veil placed over his head to hide the vacant expression on his face.

And then he was walked out by his mother, escorted up to the stage. He wanted desperately to search the crowd for Remus, but he couldn't, he had to keep his eyes trained on Janus and Logan, both in suits, and both wearing vaguely concerned smiles on their faces.

Roman repeated the lines that had been drilled into his skull, barely aware of anything else besides the goblet given to him, which was notably not given to the other princes, only able to focus when the feeling of soft lips pressed against both sides of his face brought him back to reality.

He was rushed away from his husbands almost as soon as they stepped off the alter, to change into a more comfortable outfit of a large hoodie that might as well have been a dress, red leggings with white hearts, and white boots. The veil and bracers are removed, the scars and bruised flesh visible until the hoodie sleeves are pulled over them.

And then came the part Roman had dreaded since he woke up that morning, after another goblet of the burning liquid, he hugged his mother's goodbye, and then his brother.

"You keep your head up ok? Itll be fine, I promise," Remus whispered, and then he let go, Roman felt sick. But he allowed himself to be escorted to the carriage that would take him to the Kingdom of Serpents, and to start his new life with his husbands.

But what he hadnt been expecting when he sat down in the carriage, was a look of disgust on Janus' face as he made a grab for Roman's arms.

"See Logan! Look what theyve done to him! And look at his face! Hes barely even there at all!" Roman shuddered as he felt a gloved hand caress the side of his face.

"I know Jan, but we can address it later, as you've already so clearly pointed out, hes had a long day," Logan replied, pulling Roman into his lap. Roman felt himself start to drift off to sleep, and allowed himself to succumb to it as he felt soft hands running through his hair.

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[wri0thesley]

I LOVE dollification, but like, on a hypnotically triggered basis. It scares me, thinking about being forced into something and being unable to be myself again. But when it's done through mutual trust, and the ribbon or collar or bracelet or whatever goes on and all your thoughts drain away and they do whatever they want to you while you get to be blissfully mindless a while as you get dressed up or bred, especially after a hard day, hhhh.

ooh i’m a big fan of dollification with hypnosis in a more Consensual kink scenario (my brain tends to jump to dark content first of all which is what my original post was about!). i LOVE hypnosis and i love the idea of trusting your partner enough to be able to do anything; whether that be gently brushing your hair or carefully maneuvering you into whatever pose they want or indeed just breeding you <3

Anonymous said: Finally someone who gets my dollification kink agsgdgdggdgd

yeah i see a lot more about bimbofication/dumbification in the Tumblr Posts which i also love but there’s something to be said about letting every thought drain out of your head and being empty, instead of being just kind of silly and feather-brained!

Anonymous said: Okay dollification, love that with my villain F/Os, sounds amazing and oh my lord your mind But I imagined it with characters like Gyro and Jolyne and I feel like they'd intentionally make me look ridiculous (which would be really fun honestly)

it is ALWAYS the villain f/os for me bc i uuh am brainrotted! honestly though, gyro is SO CAREFUL with his teddy bear (my HEART) i can see him treating his little doll like the most precious possession in the world and only wanting the absolute best for them! don’t forget for all of his silliness he’s still determined and intense and comes from a prestigious family where he had access to all kinds of Culture, i can see him being unerringly careful with you <3