#obedience curses

[endless-nightshift]

I love the specific sub category of Bingqiu fics that are essentially just the author holding Shen Qingqiu down and forcing him to have a normal human conversation with Luo Binghe as apposed letting him act apon the worst possible outcome his mind can come up with.

[royalbard]

Turns out when a girl who gets off everyday can't get off she goes a wee bit crazy. Especially when the only reason she can't is wanting to be good

[bonefall]

Does leopard still have 3 lives in her final battle? Or was that changed?

Yep. I think she drowned her once, then Leopardstar lunges up refreshed, and she gets the upper paw on Mistyfoot with 2 lives to go.

(MAYBE tw gore, but I really did try to be tasteful about a head being smashed on a rock.)

On her back, splashing and thrashing furiously against Leopardstar's claws dunking her head under, Mistyfoot glimpses a wave breaking just over the tip of a stone-blue rock. Her only chance.

With a surge of power, her claws sink into her leader's golden shoulder and they tumble and roll to the right. Before the tyrant even realizes what's happening, she's yanked up, and then whipped backwards with a wet CRUNCH

And then again

And again

And again, until Mistyfoot can't even make out what's left of her leader anymore. All she can see is that it's a red, brown, and yellow blur, because her eyes burning with salty tears and her whole body is trembling.

She drops the corpse onto the stone and it slides into the water, lifelessly. After a moment it spasms aimlessly one last time, like an insect does after its head is bitten off, unlike the deliberate, agonized throes of Tigerstar suffering through his doomed lives. And then it's still.

There's only the tranquil sound of bubbling water, and Mistyfoot's frenzied panting. Her pounding heart makes it hard to hear either.

The blood is carried off by the shallow water in scarlet swirls, but the lake runs pale red as if it's washing it away. Some were aware of this prophecy, but Mistyfoot was not.

It isn't closure to her, or a fulfillment of divine decree. It's just blood that should be on her paws, slicked away by the complicit river. She wished it could feel like it's over, but she's smart enough to know the truth. Has been through enough terrible events like this to understand what comes next.

Her body will move foward. Her mind will need to consider her deputy. Her paw will come down on code-defying cats like Blackclaw and Greenflower. But her heart will stay here, next to the remains of Leopardstar, the same way another piece of it remains at Stonefur's side across space and time.

[antimonyandthyme]

something something something about control. oscar having like, zero control when it comes to carlos. loses his head absolutely no control over anything he ever does. and now this happens and he's clawing back control while telling himself that he Will fix this he will Not allow carlos to. be controlled. while in fact actively taking control over the minutiae (breathe x6, listen to me, tell me, let go) of carlos's, just. entire existence. oscar is holding him in a vice grip and giving him command on command and carlos is in fact just sitting there. 10/10 honestly. fantastic dynamic and practically no way out (oscar is physically unable to stop himself from making carlos do things. kudos to him for Not telling carlos to stop breathing or stop crying ig??? the bar is very low apparently)

anon come back i just want to talk

[ekat-fandom-blog]

Obedience

The first chance she had to escape, Dani took it. Vlad had become sloppy since imposing the obedience curse onto her. According to him, he had to test the cursed leather cuff bracelet before using it on Danny.

He'd run tests to see how long the curse was in place after taking the bracelet off. Made sure that his plan would work. He'd found the curse lasted about 2 minutes after taking the cuff off. They'd both found out that the person wearing the cuff wasn't able to take it off no matter how hard they tried.

The only reason she'd been able to leave is because Vlad had told her that as soon as she saw Danny she was to put it on him and tell him to go to him. Told her not to tell anyone about the curse. He hadn't counted on her leaving Amity Park to find someone else to help her. There were tons of heroes that would be willing to help her get the damn thing off.

[mothofmyth]

Have we as a society forgotten our roots?!? How is there not a single Steve Harrington Curse of Obedience/Ella Enchanted au on ao3!?!

[strangersteddierthings]

You Left Me Scars Through Memories (Tangled in my DNA) - Prologue

"I love you so much," Stephanie Harrington says, reaching out a hand to tuck some hair behind his ear. It's more an excuse to touch than to clear his face of hair. It's at a length now that will result in the tucked hair falling back into his face with barely a shake of his head.

Steve blinks up at her from where he's sat in her lap, his face far too serious for a toddler just a few hours shy of three years old.

"Your life is going to be so difficult and it's my fault. I'm so sorry," she whispers, sweeping him into a hug. He snuggles into her embrace instantly and it brings tears to her eyes. He should hate her for what she's done. Perhaps he will, once he's older and can understand what she's apologizing for.

"I'm going to tell you a story," she settles back into the chair, a big plush thing that she sits in every night to read a bedtime story to Steve, or tries too anyway. He's at the age where he's wiggly and full of energy until he drops.

"Once upon a time, there was a man and a woman. Husband and wife. And they loved each other very much," she starts, running one hand up and down on her baby's back, soothing, "and they wanted nothing more than to have a child.

"But try as they might, no child would come to them. And soon resentment began to grow. The wife, convinced that having a child would remove the resentment, set off to make a bargain with a witch, said to live deep in the woods.

"She told her husband she was going to visit her family so as not to arouse suspicion. Consorting with witches wasn't something that was done, you see."

This is the longest Steve has sat still in her lap in months. She thinks he might be asleep but continues the story anyway.

"It took her almost three weeks to find the witch, deep in the woods. Upon arrival, the witch had tried to turn away the wife. But the wife was persistent. 'Please,' she begged the witch, 'if we can have a child then my husband will love me again.'

"The witch was not moved by this plea. 'You would bring a child into a loveless marriage?' and the wife argued that once they had a child, their marriage would no longer be loveless. The witch disagreed but the wife would not be deterred.

"'What would you give up to have this child?' the witch asked after being pestered by the wife for almost a week. And the wife had said anything.

"'Anything is dangerous,' the witch said. 'I can give you the means to have a child, but the universe will decide the price.' And so, the wife agreed, and the witch pressed a folded piece of parchment into the wife's hand.

"When she finally returned home, she had been gone for eight long weeks. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, they say, and husband and wife reunited. Still, the wife waited three more months before preforming the ritual the witch had pressed into her palm.

"Soon, they had a child, a daughter. But with her arrival came the universe's price. A life blessing is not an easy thing to give, and the price for life is the highest to pay. Free Will was that price. And when the daughter turned three, she learned her daughter also paid the price. Her daughter, and her daughter's daughter, and her daughter's daughter's son. Forever more. The wife, now mother, was angry to learn this. Why should her child have to suffer for her own sins?

"She told her husband what she had done. She had to, you see, because how else could he be expected to raise a child that would do everything you told her to? Words would need to be picked carefully.

"It was years later before the mother could track the witch down again, to demand the witch undo the curse. 'I made the bargain, why must my child also suffer the consequences?'

"'You said anything,' the witch responded, 'and I told you that was dangerous. It was foolish of you to think your actions would not affect others. All actions do.'

"The mother said, 'can it not be undone?' and the witch said, 'All curses can be broken.' When the mother asked how, the witch just looked at her and said, 'go away, and do not seek me again.' And the mother had no choice but to obey."

Steve still has not stirred on her lap and when she looks down, she can see he is asleep. Even if Steve had stayed awake for the whole story, she knows she'll have to retell it to him when he's older. When he'll remember all of it. Perhaps she should write it down, too, just in case.

"You see, Steve, what was supposed to be a blessing became a curse. One of obedience. People will tell you to do things and you will be compelled to obey. You will become someone you will never truly know, because anyone can make you anything," she says as she stands and places Steve in his bed. "But don't worry. Mommy will teach you how to trick and cheat the curse as much as you can."

[silversnowblossom]

Alhaitham steps into the kitchen and snags Kaveh’s coffee, not because he can’t get his own—the coffee maker is really only a couple feet away—but because it’s far more entertaining watching Kaveh splutter in annoyance.

“Stop stealing my coffee,” Kaveh grumbles blearily, blond hair askew, and Alhaitham’s about to roll his eyes and keep sipping at it anyway, maybe offer a scathing remark about his roommate’s typical unkemptness in the morning, but—

Instead, he finds himself saying, “okay,” his body moving to set the coffee down without any conscious input on his part. 

He’s not the only one surprised. Kaveh blinks at the coffee, then squints at Alhaitham. “Are you alright? You’re being awfully compliant today. That’s not like you.”

“I’m fine,” Alhaitham says distractedly, trying to figure out what just happened. 

“Hm. If you say so.”

-

By the end of the morning, Alhaitham has concluded two things.

One: he's under a compulsion to obey any command given to him, whether the speaker intended for it to be an order or not. 

And two: he can’t tell anyone about his condition. Not intentionally, anyway. He’s tried, with Kaveh, because as much as they bicker, there’s no one Alhaitham trusts more. He’d opened his mouth and his words lodged in his throat, unable or unwilling to escape. He’d tried to write it out, but his muscles locked, refusing to let him. 

Kaveh's just going to have to figure it out himself, he supposes. It shouldn't be too hard.

Figuring out how this happened and how to resolve it on the other hand...

Well. This is going to be a headache and a half, Alhaitham can already tell. 

[hey-that-hurt]

“Be quiet, demon, I’m working. Stop interrupting me and go do something else.”

Beetlejuice would have loved to tell Chuckles where he could shove his stupid order, but he could feel said stupid order getting ready to send him into a coughing fit if he tried (and given that coughing wasn’t exactly quiet, he wasn’t eager to learn how the contract would handle that). He would have loved to shove Charles’ laptop onto the floor like a bored cat, or at least infect it with at minimum twelve different genuine netherworld porn viruses, but the second Charles returned his attention to his work any and all direct retaliation fell under “interrupting”.

Even his attempts to grumble, stomp his feet, and slam the door on his way out were stifled.

Lydia was off at school and Daisy was out with a client or something, so that just left the Maitlands to tell him he was oh-so-graciously permitted to speak again.

Ugh, the Maitlands. If he went to them with yet another order to lift they’d shake their pretty heads all disapprovingly, hmm’ing and haww’ing about the moral dilemma of it all like their names weren’t on the contract too, pretending like they gave a single shit about him. At least he knew where he stood with everyone else. He knew Adam and Barbara would realize they didn’t have any neighbors to perform for eventually and start ordering him around like the rest, but while he wished they’d keep things simple he still wasn’t eager to get to that point earlier than needed.

He’d wait for Lydia to be home from school, make some pointed gestures, and he’d be as noisy as ever. No problem. In the meantime, he’d look for revenge fodder.

The rarely-visited basement was full of miscellaneous crap from the Deetzes and Maitlands alike. He’d have to get creative to think of some sort of prank that the rules wouldn’t object to, but this was a great place to look for inspiration.

Shoving aside some of Adam’s lovingly crafted wood furniture, he pushed open the door to a walk-in closet, seeing some promising cans of old paint. He flipped a switch on the wall to try and light the single bare bulb on the ceiling, but nothing happened. Burnt out. Whatever, his appreciation for light was more of a want than a need. The light from the basement was more than enough for his eyes— though he’d need to get hands-on to truly appreciate the contents of these shelves. Stepping over the debris on the closet floor, he grabbed one of the back shelves for stabilization.

Apparently the shelf had been one of Adam’s earlier projects or something, because the weight of about a dozen cans of paint plus one demon was too much for it to bear. Beetlejuice winced in literal pain as the cans clattered to the floor (the noise being accidental apparently didn’t make that much of a difference to the rules). He tripped over the clutter as he tried to scramble backwards away from the very noisy and thus painful paint cans, falling against the door which slammed shut and knocking over the contents of some sort of bag.

Beetlejuice grit his teeth against the searing pain shooting down his arms and legs, curling forward both to brace himself and to minimize the chance of colliding with anything else. At least the contract was blaming his limbs rather than his throat or head. The coughing and splitting headaches tended to make him react in the most embarrassing ways.

Once the pain subsided he slowly rose to his feet and turned around, this time careful not to grab anything for support. He’d rather prank Charles after he got permission to be noisy again, he’d decided. And yet, as he reached for the door handle, he felt as though the idea of so much as touching the door was repulsive.

Well that was just ridiculous. The hinges had seemed to be well-greased, the door had opened at a perfectly normal volume earlier. He had nothing to fear from it. And yet, as he reached for the handle, he just… couldn’t. Couldn’t touch the door. Was this a prank, somehow? Did Lydia whisper in his ear some ultra-specific order about touching the inside of the closet door downstairs?

He glanced to the ground and saw what he’d spilled as he���d tripped.

The salt.

One of the bags of what he could now be sure was pure, naturally gathered, exorcism-grade salt, had spilled and formed a wide line in front of the door.

Clenching his fist in irritation, he gathered his power and teleported to the living room.

He teleported— he teleported to— he was still in the closet.

Right. Salt barrier. Enclosed space. If demons could just teleport out of salt barriers, they wouldn’t make very effective traps.

He knew he was tangible when summoned— a drawback of being part of the physical plane is that you were in fact part of the physical plane— but he pressed a hand to one of the side walls anyway, willing himself to go through it.

Nope. Still physical. Well, it was nice to know he hadn’t been somehow randomly unsummoned without his knowledge within the last minute.

Even breaking down the walls was out of the question, since ‘don’t destroy the house!’ was one of the first established rules. That one had a bit of leeway, but he had a feeling that the contract wouldn’t take kindly to him detonating the drywall.

Haha. Shit.

He was trapped.

He had just barely enough space to stretch his arms out lengthwise, but he couldn’t stretch too much without risking knocking something else over.

He opened his mouth as he briefly considered screaming to the Maitlands for help— a demon voice could really carry when it needed to— but his throat tingled and he snapped his mouth shut before he started to cough.

He sat down on the floor, pulled his legs to his chest, and settled his chin atop his knees.

He hoped someone had heard the paint.

[dmitriyuriev]

Limbo and their doll

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1130

Submitted by @dollopheadedmerlin - thanks!

Whumpee is put under some sort of obedience spell (potion, curse, drug, etc.) And is used against their team to do horrible things. When rescued, they are unable to undo the effects, having them remain obedient to every command. After undoing commands that hinder the whumpee ("you are to sleep when you please" to counter "you shall only sleep when I tell you to" for example) the whumpee still drones around like they have tasks to keep track of. 

When asked why they don't feel more free, whumpee admits that even neutral commands meant to fee them of obedience plague their mind, as they are just as obligated to follow them as they are harmless ones, leaving them in a dazed state most of the time, unable to think normally. 

[maimedaffair]

❛   thank you ---------- that would have been it for me , i think. ❜ her lungs struggle to catch up as ella places a hand over her heart , wide emerald eyes still in a state of shock. leaving home hadn't been her finest plan , but it was one she was intent on finishing. coming into the fae realm was just a part of that journey ------ it was the only way to get to lucinda , after all.

she's in quite a state --- her dress is torn &* her skin is dirty from the forest floor she'd been thrown in to. the tear in her sleeve shows the blood of her arm. one moment , she'd been walking through the quiet woods -- the next , she'd been so easily knocked down by something otherworldly &* intent on having her for lunch. her iron dagger had done nothing. but a short scuff had ended with her being swept up by this man ------ her gaze flickers over @lornrequiem , reality slowly sinking in. her line of sight catches on his wings. so very different from what she'd assumed fairy wings looked like -------- her book hadn't shown her anything like that. wait ---- her book ! her gaze turns a bit frantic as she looks around then , a nervous noise leaving the brunette. ❛ we have to go back ! i need the book i had.   ❜

[antimonyandthyme]

ooh. do we think that oscar at some point when carlos is trying to explain that no, this is Not helping him goes "oh, shut up" and carlos is in fact now unable to continue speaking. presumably oscar realises this very quickly but i don't quite know what he would do. considering the inability to act normally around carlos or indeed allow carlos to act normally period

i’ll tell you what happens, carlos’s mouth clamps shut with an invisible force and his eyes grow very large and very hurt and oscar realizes too late and quickly tries to undo his order but he can’t undo the betrayal and this time when carlos leaves oscar can’t find it in himself to give another order to make him stay and it’s horrible feelings all around and THIS TIME carlos does get into trouble someone gives him a seemingly harmless order which isn’t very harmless at all and oscar’s not around is he and maybe carlos goes oh shit oh shit oh fuck maybe this is what oscar’s been trying to prevent the whole time meanwhile he’s out in the wild carrying out an order he has no way of getting out of while oscar’s losing his mind because he can’t find carlos

[knoepfl]

Chaos Served at the Table

Hey there this is the last part of my Christmas Present series! I hope you enjoyed the various fanfictions! I thank everyone for reading my wierd stuff! I wish you all a Merry Christmas!

24/24

Characters:

• Mahito

• A sadistic curse with the ability to manipulate souls, he enjoys inflicting chaos and pain. He sees his creation (you) as an experiment but holds a twisted affection for you.

• You (Reader/OC)

• A curse created by Mahito, completely insane and obedient to him. You’re erratic, unpredictable, and devoted to pleasing Mahito, even if it means suffering or violence.

• Geto Suguru

• A curse user and ally of Mahito, calm and strategic. He respects Mahito’s power but remains emotionally detached, observing the chaos from a distance.

Trigger Warnings:

• Violence (including torture and soul manipulation)

• Psychological Disturbance (extreme mental instability)

• Gore (blood and mutilation)

• Manipulation (psychological control by Mahito)

• Sadism (pleasure from pain and chaos)

• Obsession (the reader’s twisted affection toward Mahito)

• Disturbing Content (unsettling behavior and imagery)

Masterlist

Words: 1137

Mahito, ever the laid-back and carefree spirit, casually took a bite of the meal before him—a strange concoction of cursed energy and the remnants of his most recent "creation." His eyes sparkled with mischievous amusement as he chewed, savoring the flavor of a life lost, of a soul twisted. Beside him, the other curses ate too, each in their own way, though none with as much ease or enjoyment as Mahito.

---

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a cold, eerie glow on the world below. In the shadows of an old, abandoned building, Mahito lounged at a worn wooden table, surrounded by his fellow curses. The atmosphere was thick with the smell of blood and decay, but that didn’t seem to bother anyone here.

The door creaked open, and in walked you, the creation of Mahito's twisted hand. Your eyes were wide, vacant, reflecting the chaotic madness that consumed you. The insanity in your gaze was palpable, making the room feel just a little more unsettling. You entered with an unpredictable, almost animalistic energy, and without a second thought, you leaned down and gave Mahito a small, gentle kiss on his cheek. Your lips were stained with blood, but it was a small gesture of devotion that spoke volumes of your connection to him.

Mahito’s gaze flicked up as you approached, his smile growing wider with amusement at your actions. “Ah, there you are,” he drawled, his voice dripping with interest. "Did you have fun with your little game?"

You grinned, tilting your head to the side, fingers still dripping with blood. “I played... I played so much, Mahito. They screamed so beautifully for me…” you giggled, the sound laced with an unsettling madness.

Mahito chuckled lightly, flicking his fingers. "Good. Very good. Now, come and join us," he gestured to the empty seat beside him, his voice soft but commanding.

You walked toward the table, your movements jerky and erratic. The other curses at the table—Jogo, Hanami, and the others—glanced at you with varying degrees of indifference and curiosity, but Mahito’s presence seemed to anchor you. As you sat down next to him, you could feel his eyes on you, a steady, guiding force.

He slid a bowl toward you—something dark and viscous, a strange mixture of cursed energy and gore. The other curses didn’t seem to mind the grotesque nature of the meal. After all, this was the food they consumed, born from the suffering of others, twisted in ways that only they could appreciate.

"Eat," Mahito instructed, his voice smooth and persuasive, like silk running through your mind. He didn’t have to tell you twice. You eagerly scooped up the bowl, your hands trembling as you took the first bite. The taste—bitter and tangy, yet satisfying in its own twisted way—fueled your insatiable hunger for more destruction.

Mahito’s gaze never left you as you ate. He watched with amusement, pleased with how you followed his command, how you obeyed him so completely despite the madness that consumed you.

“You’re a good little creation,” he murmured, his voice low enough for only you to hear. "So obedient, even with that wild mind of yours."

You looked up at him, eyes wide, lips smeared with the remnants of your meal. A faint, twisted smile curled on your lips. "I’ll always be good for you, Mahito. I’ll always be what you want."

He smiled back, pleased with your devotion, but there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes as he leaned closer, his voice almost a whisper now. "And that’s why I made you. You’re the perfect little chaos machine. And I can’t wait to see just how far I can push you."

Your body shivered, the madness within you stirring at the promise of more destruction, more blood, more chaos. You would do anything for Mahito, no matter how twisted it became.

Suddenly, the door creaked open again, and the quiet, calculating figure of Geto Suguru entered the room, his eyes scanning the table. His expression remained calm, though a faint sense of amusement flickered in his gaze when he saw you—his attention drawn to the way you seemed to idolize Mahito.

“Mahito,” Geto greeted, his tone smooth and almost detached as he approached the table. “I see you’ve been having some fun with your creation again.”

Mahito’s eyes glinted with an ever-present spark of mischief. “Oh, you know me, Geto. I can’t resist. She's perfect, don’t you think? Wild, but obedient. Just the way I like it.”

Geto raised an eyebrow, his gaze drifting over to you, lingering for a moment on the insanity etched into your face. “She’s certainly... interesting. Not what I expected when you said you were making something new.”

You turned toward Geto, your smile wide and twisted, eyes vacant but brimming with an unsettling affection for Mahito. “Mahito made me... He made me perfect,” you said, the words coming out almost like a chant. “I’ll always be good for him.”

Mahito chuckled, clearly enjoying the conversation. “She’s more than perfect. I created her for a reason. To see how far I can push the boundaries of cursed energy and chaos. She’s my masterpiece.”

Geto, ever the calm and rational one, stroked his chin thoughtfully. “A good creation... but you’re playing a dangerous game, Mahito. There’s no telling what this chaos could lead to, especially with someone like her.”

Mahito shrugged, uncaring. "I’ve never been afraid of a little danger. She’ll be useful. The more I push her, the more unpredictable she becomes. And that’s exactly what we need.”

Geto watched the two of you for a moment longer, his lips curling into a thin smile. “I suppose you’re right. A little chaos can be fun—especially when it works in our favor. But don’t forget that even the most obedient creation can turn on you if you push too hard.”

Mahito’s grin widened, his gaze darkening with amusement. “Let’s just see how far we can take it. I don’t mind a little challenge now and then.”

You, in the meantime, continued to devour your meal, seemingly oblivious to the conversation happening around you. Your eyes glazed over, but a twisted smile remained on your face. You were completely lost in the madness, in the chaotic world Mahito had created for you. You didn’t need to understand the conversation. All you cared about was pleasing him. And Mahito, for his part, was more than willing to keep pushing your boundaries.

As Geto turned to leave, he gave Mahito one last look, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Enjoy your little game, Mahito. But remember, not all experiments are as controllable as you think.”

Mahito chuckled, raising his cup to Geto in a mocking toast. “Don’t worry, Geto. She’s mine. And I know exactly what I’m doing.”

---

[cursed-princess-club]

bad bitches when they got the spoon of restraint !!!

[xx-hail2theking-xx]

if you mean us, that is fully my intension. if you mean Saitel, that's who I intend to ask, if possible. if you mean someone else, I'm afraid I may be missing something. I don't know that Jupel would go so far as calling sheirself an ally, and the only other one I can think of with-

...

the only angel who cares that much whether the court or it's members survive is- but you couldn't mean Oppy, so-

...ally. are you suggesting trying to end the curse again?

No. I'm suggesting we specifically use the mortals with ready access to even direct conversation with the gods themselves.

No offense intended, of course.

-Duke Valefar.