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widowsofchaos · 2 months

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𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬

synopsis: your menstrual cycle always pushes you to pure hysterics, thankfully your entrusted doctor is always there for you.

pairing: dark!loki laufeyson x brown!reader

ao3 // victorian au

warnings: dubious consent (slight sexual grooming), vaginal fingering, oral, nefarious medical practice, motional grooming.

a/n: for @cake-writes . I love you so much. :) did you know that in the Victorian period, physicians would perform pelvic massages that involved clitoral stimulation with early electrical vibrators to cure hysteria? traditional pelvic massages had been conducted for thousand of years, until western technology caught up. Dr. Silver Tongue prefers the old fashioned methods, hehe. hope ya’ll enjoy, this has been a draft for over 2+ years!

Spilling ichor is a woman’s curse.

Even worse, the womb begins its horrors at the precipice of girlhood. The excruciating pain that follows in its wake, so intense it feels as if fingernails are clawing at uterine walls.

Screams and wails for God’s sweet mercy, for the pain to cease. Bodies shivering in sweats, left so fatigued that one will rot away in bed. Praying under your breath, begging to just die.

Fits of rage and delusions—- once, at the high of your agony, you thought demons were crawling through your pink wallpaper, ready to devour you. Riddled with anxiety—- paranoid of everything.

Girls call it hell. Doctors coined it hysteria.

It’s nearing noon. He’s late.

Rattles of wheezes knock against your cavity, eyes sheening wet, as your bodice sinks and molds against the mattress. Lazily picking at your reddish cuticles, and the scent of copper lingering in the air.

The compulsive urge to throttle your bodice up and down in possessed fashion against the bedding, to gnash at the air with your canines, and howl —- perhaps, your calls would beckon him.

Groans slip from your mouth, as your abdomen is throbbing and swollen. Counting sheep mindlessly, trying to inhale deeply the packaged herbs that were prescribed to you —- but nothing is working.

The moans become more undignified. Your face is scrunching up, with tears kissing your lashes.

Faint footsteps creaking against the wood flooring, and voice muffled—- a tired gasp of relief and want escapes you. Strained whines stretch and bubble at the pit of your throat, eyes hawking your door.

The knob turns and creaks open—- what a glorious sight, to be greeted by emerald hues, and that pretty smirk. Those lovely cheekbones, and smooth ivory skin.

The dull glow of the sun illuminates through the heavy stitched curtain, and through the bedroom, with pretty pink wallpaper—- but the light shines his eyes ever so gracefully. Angelic.

A courteous bow of his head, that black hat over-casting his brow; lean and stands tall in such poise. Followed by your father, imposing and watchful.

Both can see you are too weakened to speak pleasantries, but can only greet them with a small smile and lazy eyes. Your father nods and leaves you both alone, but you could have sworn for just a glance, your father’s eyes are sharp from the sliver of the door.

A click of the door, and the air shifts.

He’s smiling with a hum. Ever so the gentleman, he lifts his hat off. He puts his leather gladstone bag gently by the edge of the bed, sits his hat on the nightstand, and begins to unbutton his long coat.

Loki holds his coat by the collar, neatly folding and placing it over your velvet chair.

It’s a quiet routine.

To be honest, this is the highlight of your day. Life of a curious socialite, stuck in your overbearing parents’ manor, primed to be a proper young lady, and young eyes to see only through a theological veil.

Dr. Laufeyson is a kind, and gracious man.

He came into your life last year. The menstrual cycles have gotten worse, and it has begun to worry your parents. He was recommended by your neighbors, the Maximoffs.

He is quite different from any man you have met.

“Hello, my dearest.” His voice is liquid smooth. His hand captures yours, bringing your knuckles to his lips. Mustering all the strength to speak, “Hello, doctor.” A bashful smile soon drops to a quivering frown.

A sharp pain that slices at your gut prevails.

Loki tauts sympathetically.

His slender fingers graze gently against your thighs, feathery touch. By the glide of his palms, he lifts your sheath. Cupping the meat of your thighs, the pads of his thumbs denting, already memorizing the sore points.

It’s an unspoken ritual.

How salacious to undress an untouched lady of society —- he barely takes his eyes off of yours. Heat radiates off of you in waves.

Shivers of shyness and an foreign need for want sweeps over the hills of your legs. It is wrong for a man to touch an unwed girl.

But he is a doctor, your doctor. He has to inspect your body. He has always assured you that his touch has always been for the good of your health.

Unusual methods Loki practices. Not like any doctor you had as a growing girl. Over the time, you have known Loki, he has bathed you, fed you, and massaged you all through the cycles. So intimate, yet not befitting of your unmarried status.

Any remnants of shame melts away as his bare palms begin to massage your thighs, maneuvering your legs to part. With an expert flick of the hem of your undergarments, dragging the now stained white fabric down, and off from your body.

A strong scent of blood fans the air, making you wince at the smell—- but Loki doesn’t deter. No sign of revulsion, you watch through your lashes—- he moves with a calm focus.

Loki’s presence has been comforting.

The way he speaks with such eloquence. Speaking to you as he would to an equal, rather at you. It’s natural to him to see you as you are, instead of a porcelain doll to be seen, not heard.

Conversations of shared love of literature, and the arts. His charming words bloom warmth inside you. He has a taste for histories, and has taught you the lessons he has learned back as a young man in university.

It is not for a girl to learn academic skills, for it is more important for boys to gain knowledge. But Loki told you many things—- and in return, you confined to him.

There were many occasions where Loki has found you forlorn. The root of your problem is your father, being overbearing, and callous. Either you weren’t being dutiful enough in your responsibilities, and pressuring the idea of marriage.

Loki would comfort you, tell you that a man should not speak so cruelly to his daughter. Private conversations that bordered on flirtatious tones—- how pretty you are, and that such a cherub face shouldn’t be dew with tears.

He is your only companion. You don’t encourage yourself to socialize in the circles your family frequent in, often seeking your solitude—- many high societal folks are too boring, and vain.

But Loki is colorful and adventurous. He speaks of wonder. He is not like any other man you had the displeasure of meeting —- boring sons of the men who work with your father. Stuffy and shallow men who only want a brood mare and a slave for a wife.

Loki excuses himself, as he walks to the wash stand perched near your vanity. Putting the stained underwear in the nearby basket. Rolling up his white sleeves up to his elbow joints, readying to fetch the wash basin and pitcher.

Loki’s fingers pat the smooth glide of the pitcher, humming contently—- the water is still warm. Quickly, and securely, he grabs the handle, begins to pour the lukewarm water into the basin.

The anticipation is intense. Breathing heavily now, a filthy part of you yearn for this touch. To feel his bare smooth fingers fondle with your mound, the sensation of his hands bathing your wet pubic hair, and his fingers slipping between your folds—-

The haze is ripped from you as he feels his knuckles caress your cheek. Shyly, you sink more into your chest, your lips purse into a coy smile. Loki towers over you as a gentle giant, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

In one hand, he puts the basin down on the nightstand, and on the other hand with a towel. Loki leans down, unraveling the towel, and maneuvering it underneath your bum.

The dull ache of him lifting you makes you whine. Loki shushes you, his thumbs stroking the path between your inner thighs and lower belly.

He turns to retrieve a clean rag and the soap.

Loki seats, dipping his palm in the water, twirling the red soap. Soap suds form and the scent of the carbolic solvent is heavenly.

His hand nears and the droplets rain on your abdomen, earning a sigh of relief from you. Rubbing the bar of soap in circular motions on your pubic bone, diving between your vaginal lips, soaping up your bush—- it was simply amazing.

Your head leans back into your pillow, practically moaning at the feeling—- at the feeling of his hand, and the sensation of being cleaned.

The dried crust of blood now being scrubbed away by the accompanying wet rag—- you didn’t even realize Loki moved to soak it, too immersed in the cleansing.

Completely lathery now, the towel underneath you sodden, and the water in the basin crimson. Loki puts the soap in the basin, it sinks.

The rag feels nice, soaked in warm water, washing away the excess of soap. Loki wrings the wet rag, the water dripping into the basin.

Washing away the soap from your mound, Loki’s thumb simultaneously stroking between your folds, ensuring there are no remnants of soap.

Cheekily, his fingertips slither more into your sopping hole. Tender and swollen, Loki’s two fingers flex slowly into your quim. Halting at the sound of a whine, but resumes when you mewl under your breath.

Loki muses to himself, delights that your whimpers are akin to a kitten. His fingers curl and bend as he sinks deeper inside you. Leisurely, his fingers twist— staining his fingers red.

“I do believe you are due for your massage.” Loki spoke with a silky husk. He spread his fingers, roving over your thighs, heavily petting you. A gasp leaves your mouth, as Loki’s fingers fuck you a little faster.

“Such tension.” Loki says with an empathetic smirk. You huff of breath, a strained moan. Smug satisfaction floods Loki, his smirk morphs to a pearly grin.

He playfully clicks his tongue, “She weeps on my fingers.” Loki can feel your essence dripping, coating his knuckles now. You’re panting into your pillow, as a thirsty stray, eyes pinched shut.

Your muscles are tightening around his fingers, sucking him inside, needing more. Curling at the soft spongy spot that sparks fluttery delight, jolting your head up, eyes moon-wide.

Chin to chest now, mouth gaped in a lazy O, unabashed wanton moans. Toes curling against the bed sheet, as fresh blood coats your thighs, and Loki’s thrusting hand.

Your hair clings to the beading sweat of your forehead, gripping the wrinkled sheets. Unabashedly, your hips thrust and follow Loki’s electric thrusting.

His fingers flee from your thigh to your bush, playfully his thumb and index split it open, as he slows down his fingers. His eyes never leave yours, as the pad of his thumb begins to play with your clit.

You nearly choke on your breath, you inhale so deeply, it feels like your belly caves against your ribs. Leisurely and purposefully, Loki does it slow, leaving you in desperation.

Whimpering for him to move in haste. Edging you just near the cliff, but not yet there. The sharp strain of your menstrual blurs with pleasure— so unladylike of you, to be as a starving animal, but it relieves you greatly.

You crave it, his touch, his scent—- you adore him. How lovingly his eyes bore into yours, as you lose yourself. The flesh of your thighs shiver, the knot in your belly tightening, making you whine.

“Yes, my sweetling.” Loki whispers, as your body twists, and your toes curl, “Release your pain.”

A flood of pleasure washes over your body. Your head tilts back as your mouth hangs open. Throat clenching but no sounds, just an airy gasp. Eyes pinching shut, and nose scrunching.

The euphoria of your orgasm is sensational—- you’re delirious with it. Chest heaving and hands clasping at the air, giggling with relief. Loki softly seethes his fingers from your moist cavern.

Wiping his finger clean with a towel, as your erratic breathing simmers down. He finds it amusing to see you flustered, he can see your bashfulness seep through—- down-casting your gaze, staring at your legs.

In a second, your eyes flutter upwards, to catch his penetrative stare. Loki’s hand dents into the bedding, right next to your forearm, more so trapping you.

His nose just hairs away from yours, his warm breath fanning your face. It only fuels you more.

“Faring well, darling?”

All you can do is nod, with a titter.

Placid ease settles over you. Comfortable and clean. Not yet in your undergarments, Loki says that it’s best to air you out, with your nightgown wrinkled at your midriff.

Loki rummages through his bag, searching through his medical equipment, to grasp the dark green bottle.

Loki grabs the bottle by its neck from his bag. Revealing brown printed lettering on crismon wrapping, Loki unplugs the cork. It catches your eye, it makes your nose scrunch.

Laudanum.

A very strong poison that your palate has not yet been fully accustomed to. Over the months, Loki has insisted that you drink this in small doses.

Very small doses.

Loki spills just a little more than a drop into the spoon. The reddish-brown liquid wafting by your nose, you groan childishly, but you make no fuss. Sweetly, he puts the spoon into the cave of your mouth, your lips wrinkling into a pout.

It’s so grotesquely bitter.

“I know,” he chuckles, “but now you can rest.” His words make the drink’s icky taste more appealing, for he does it to ensure you are content, and comfortable.

The laudanum has settled in your belly, and lulled you to a slumber. A cocktail of poppy, morphine and codeine. Administered for the most severe of pains.

Loki seats in silence, watching your chest fall to a steady rhythm of breath. He smiles. Loki muses to himself, you look like a sleeping beauty.

A smile forms at his mouth, relishing in the granted opportunity. His slender hands flex expertly, hovering over your belly, to your cotton-clad chest.

Loki twirls and unties the strings of your nightgown between his fingers. Revealing your bare chest, plump brown breasts display. He whispers marvelous under his breath. Tilting his head downwards, his teeth scrape your skin.

Every chance there is of you falling to a pacified sleep to the poison, Loki snatches the chance to taste you. His lips leave open-mouthed kisses, littering your breasts. Inhaling your essence as he ravages you. His warm wet tongue licks and twirls against your pebbling nipple.

His nose traces your skin down to your navel, to your abdomen, and finally to your lower pelvis. The scent of faint copper hits his nose, accompanied by the fresh scene of carbolic.

He doesn’t mind. Rather, Loki enjoys your blood connecting with his palate. Leaning more to your core, Loki’s pink tongue slithers out between his lips, and flicks at your clit.

His sculpted nose connects with your mound, his lips now suckle on the hood of your clit. Grazing his teeth ever so cheekily, earning a small wheezing pants.

You stir in your sleep, your body reacting to the pleasure he’s pulling from you —- as if he tugs on the silk rope, snagging the knot in your belly.

A savage urge overtakes him. Loki bites the supple brown flesh of your thigh—- nibbles melt to a few pecks, then back to devouring you.

Loki has plans. Too sweet and pure to let go of—- oh no, he yearns for you. The chase for you has heightened. Monthly visits can no longer sustain him.

Loki intends to ask your father for your hand in marriage. His income is more than satisfactory, able to provide you a life of comfortability, and passion. As a wolf who must tear apart his prey from the inside out, to ruin you— possessive over his prey.

None of his female patients have bewitched him. All were so eager for him to defile them, so haughty and pompous. Neither of them saw beyond his beauty.

But you, ever so sweet, only sought out a friend, and how easily you entrusted him. And Loki must enact his plan now. Last month, as he walked up the stairs to your room, he overheard your father discussing with your mother, over the prospect of marriage for you.

Loki has already purchased a ring, waiting in a velvet box.

He has already begun stripping the petals of your modesty. Small stepping stones to soon deflowering you completely. His cock swells at the mere thought.

Your velvety lips tug by the scrape of his canines. He moans a gust of hot breath, this sinful act causing your body to quiver unconsciously.

Loki’s pink tongue slurps your folds into his mouth, back to sucking on your clit. His lips are wet with your slick, and, menstrual, the corners of his mouth with splotches of red.

An impulsive urge vibrates from his knuckles to his fingertips.

Loki’s fingers itch with compulsion. Instead of sweetly plunging inside you—- oh, he thinks, an act done with gentility. But, I cannot awaken her from slumber. We have not yet reached this stage of our courting.

Traditionally, a doctor must massage his patient’s genitalia, not have his fingers explored, as he has done so freely. But, ever so naive and sweet, you do not know any better—- to you, Loki is simply doing his job.

A chaste darling, to approach you with the advance of tasting you, would have had you flying to your father. No—- he must break you down, piece by piece.

He stifles the thought, keeps his fingers at bay. Loki’s mouth keeps eating at your weeping welt, his warm tongue flickering against your sensitive clit. Unconsciously, your hips shutter gently against his mouth, spasming in your slumber.

Loki can taste your essence, moaning at your taste hitting his tongue. His eyes rolling in the back of his eyelids.

He turns his face a bit, still attached to your core, pecking small kisses on your inner thigh.

Loki dips his palm in the now chill bowl of water, snagging the sodden rag. Squeezing in his tight grip, water dripping, and splashing, a bit of soap is left.

Wiping away your essence, and ichor. Soothingly caressing your inner thighs with the rag, until all is gone. Loki puts the rag back, standing to his feet, as he goes to wash his mouth.

A simple routine where he finds peace. It’s a quiet shared between you two.

Patting dry his hands with a cotton white towel he found from one of the vanity’s drawers. Quietly and leisurely, Loki walks with a stride towards your bed. Standing over you, admiring his work.

A familiar routine: placing a rag inside your underwear, snuggling and cladding your mound, tying the strings to your nightgown, and pulling the rest of the fabric down your body.

Loki’s checks your pulse—- a perfect rhythm. Redressing himself, a swell of pride casts him. The sensation of your velvety core still dancing on his tongue. With a click of his bag, and flick of his coat buttons—- Loki begins his departure.

Softly closing your bedroom door, Loki walks down the stairs. His ears catch a few hushed words, one of them is marriage. No doubt, they were conversing about you.

As Loki reaches the bottom of the stairs, from his side-eye, he can see your father and mother waiting in the family’s living space.

“Ah, Dr. Laufeyson.” Your father stands from his chair with a weak grunt. A peculiar strain upon his face, he can’t meet Loki’s eyes.

“My apologies, but we cannot afford your services,” your father stammers at the sight of Loki’s pinched brow. “We had no other choice, as you know our daughter can be ill—” his panicked tone is interrupted.

Loki tilts his head, those green eyes ever so observant, a slick smirk curls. Savoring the sight of this man squirming.

“And how would you propose we solve this dilemma?”

“We can pay you in food, I can provide from my garden.” Your mother’s fragile voice pleads, standing to cling to her husband’s arm. Her fingers wrinkled his sleeve. Her eyes were blood-shot red. “You are a kind man, please understand.”

A memory of your bliss-stricken face flashes before his mind, and it provokes a breathy hum. An opportunity delivered to his feet by fate itself.

“Perhaps, I have a solution to satisfy both our needs.”

#widowsofchaos wrote this #dark loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader #dark loki #mcu fanfic #loki fanfiction #dark smut #poc reader

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godsfavdarling · 2 months

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series

all of my works include adult content unless stated otherwise (my masterlist)

Velvet & Veils (set after season 13) - When burlesque dancers start disappearing in DC, the FBI steps in to assist the local police. At her club "Velvet Nights" before opening hours, Misty is asked to speak with the agents. With her friend missing and danger lurking, the investigation becomes personal. (wattpad, Ao3)

Why Don't You Come Over? (Spencelle Fanfiction) - There's always been more between Elle and Spencer. Will they be able to be honest with each other? (wattpad, Ao3)

I’m Such A Fool For You (set after season 15) - After nearly two decades with the FBI, Dr. Spencer Reid makes a career shift to teaching at Georgetown University. There, he shares an office with Dr. Brittany Reed, a sociologist. (wattpad, Ao3)

Keep Holding On (set between seasons 10-11, later 12-15) - Molly is an elementary school teacher with a simple, fulfilling life. Her romantic life, though, remains stagnant, lacking any signs of flourishing, as she faces continuous disappointments in her pursuit of love. However, a chance encounter with Spencer, a sweet and gentle genius, might just be the catalyst for a change in her romantic fortunes. (wattpad, Ao3)

Between The Pages (gn!reader) - You go to a bookstore to meet your favorite author, but you end up meeting someone else as well... (i'm still thinking if i should continue) sfw

Sweet Relief (set after season 2) - Margaret, a ballerina in Jacksonville, and Spencer, two individuals who have silently weathered their own storms. They find unexpected solace and sweet relief in their budding relationship. A tale of rediscovery and healing. i wanna rewrite it!

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simpingcorner · 1 year

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Daughter of the Shadows ch.2

Word Count: ~1.4k Warnings: mild violence (stabbing, mentions of gunshots, physical fighting), blood, alcohol, gambling,mention of human tr*****, implied SA,not proofread, let me know if I forgot something.

Author's Note: Second chapter to my Grishaverse fanfic. A reminder this is insipred by my SoC DR so it’ll follow both the books and the show plotlines, there will be changes to the canon characters and their storylines, it’s also a Kaz Brekker x OC. | English isn’t my first language so please bear with me and tell me if there’s something wrong. I hope you like it.

all rights to leigh bardugo, i only owny liith and her backstory (other ocs will be introduced later)

Read part 1 here - Ch. 3 - Ch. 4 - Ch. 5 - Ch. 6

CHAPTER 2

LILITH

Inej's silent footsteps brought her back to reality, the rooftops of the city stretched out beneath their feet, their legs dangled over the apex of the roof, their eyes studied the streets and the movements beneath them, "You know he won't take you with him if that cut doesn't heal. " The Suli said without shifting her gaze from the streets, "It's lucky it's already healed then." the brown haired one replied, pulling her sleeve over her palm, Inej's gaze stopped on the younger girl beside her, a mixture of concern and pride expressed in the brown irises, "Be careful." she said before disappearing behind Lilith.

The rhythmic clatter of his cane echoed on the roof tiles, a rhythm now known, familiar, "I have a job for you." Exclaimed the boy's impassive, hoarse voice, "What business?" "A banquet will be held for the Council Members, you will infiltrate with the actors of the Komedie Brute along with Specht." "Who is the target?" "Jellen Radmakker."

The second floor of the Geldrennen Hotel had been reserved by the Council Members, five of the richest men in Ketterdam, interested only in their image, their place in the city's food chain, protected by more guards than anyone could count, accustomed to wealth, luxury, security, indifferent to the city's needs, concerned only with dressing well, with showing the rest of the city how rich they were, oblivious to how many teenagers and children had lost their innocence by becoming criminals because of them, because none of them deigned to help the citizens, too worried about losing their investment in Jurda's production.

The girl pulled her veil over her face, the costume of the Lost Bride allowed her to hide, to camouflage herself among the actors, no one seemed to notice the few extra actors, but that was her speciality, hiding in the shadows even when the shadows were not there. Lilith noticed Specht's gaze on her, although older than her she knew he had to answer to the girl's orders, all the members of the Crows knew they had to answer to her orders; her reputation, her name, her history, the legends about her past and her family made her more dangerous and important than anyone thought.

The girl's brown eyes studied the room, Jellen Radmakker was sitting at the table, two armed men were staring at him ready to defend him; to his right was Nathan Boreg dressed in grey, his gaze passed from his colleagues to the guards to the actors, the man's breathing was quickened, although he tried to hide it you could see the drops of sweat forming on his forehead; Karl Dryden sat opposite Radmakker, his gaze fixed on the roast quail on the table in front of him, his mouth open, waiting to dig into the dish; to his left Jan Van Eck resided with a look of superiority and disgust towards the rest of the diners, his purple velvet suit fell perfectly over his body, his gold ring shone on his left ring finger under the dim light of the candles, four guards behind him scanned the room for threats; at the head of the table the figure of Hoede resided boredly waiting for entertainment and wine. "I have had news of the arrival of a more than prosperous merchant cargo." Broke the silence Radmakker, "A durast, a healer, a squaller and three other unspecified Grisha." "When will they arrive?" "By the end of the month. I understand they will be sold on the third port when they arrive. No one has been informed of their arrival yet so we will have exclusive rights to them." "I want the names and any information you have on them by tomorrow night." The three merchants exchanged information for the duration of the dinner, information they were not supposed to exchange in public. Their plans were unknown to the girl but the mere knowledge that other kids would be sold to the highest bidder made her blood boil, she adjusted the gloves on her hands, the veil on her face and the wreath on her forehead before shifting her gaze from the merchants' table to Specht, the man was listening to the conversations of the guards, focus on finding something to tell his boss.

The streets of Ketterdam were illuminated by oil lamps and animated by tourists and locals, the Pleasure District, known as the Barrel, was floodlit despite the fact that the sun had been down for several hours, the men and women working in the various bars attracted customers with false claims, false promises, false truths necessary to survive in this place; the tourists looked around, too focused on the bars, the scenes and promises of an unforgettable time to notice the disappearance of watches, wallets, valuables and other items; blonde hair blocked Lilith's view, the voices around the girl seemed to suddenly disappear the moment she felt the pressure of a hand approaching her side, her left hand clasped on the blonde's wrist, the dagger clutched in her right hand stopped at the thief's side, two pitch black eyes locked into Lilith's brown ones, her blonde eyebrows furrowed in shame and disappointment, a half smile formed on Lilith's face before the girl released her grip on the blonde, "You need to relax your breath and your arm, the pressure of the hand near the pocket would have brought you a lot of trouble." Explained Lilith to the blonde, "Check the other dagger." Said the thief with a proud grin, Lilith's hand moved to the dagger hidden in her boot, pulling it out before releasing her grip on the accomplice's wrist, "You must conceal your footsteps, though the noise in these streets is impossible to muffle, your footsteps echo like a pin on marble." The two kids nodded at the brunette before turning on their heels, "Shouldn't you be checking the tables at the Club?" shouted Lilith before turning the corner towards the Slat.

It happened before she could even notice, two men grabbed her arms while a third stopped in front of her, the man's face inches from hers, the smell of alcohol and smoke invaded her nostrils, the three drunk and out of it men stared at her with hungry stares, a look she knew all too well, a look she had seen all too many times at Emerald Palace, the dagger slipped from her sleeve into her hand before making contact with the arm of one of the three men, the man's blood stained the girl's glove, the wreath slipped from her forehead, breaking on impact with the cubblestone beneath her, the dagger in her left hand ready to be used on the second man, eyes fixed on the enemy, her right hand ready to move if necessary but before she could do anything else the smell of gunpowder invaded her nostrils, the man in front of her groaned before falling to the ground in pain, a pool of blood began to spread beneath his body; before the girl could recognise the shooter she felt a burning sensation between her ribs, her hand clutched her side, crimson red began to cover her hand, she managed to pull the dagger from her boot in time to find a new home in the man's sternum before everything went black.

Her body lay motionless in Jesper's arms, blood oozed from her side, the cut on her right forearm had reopened during the confrontation, her closed eyes and almost non-existent breathing forced Jesper to run through the streets, making space for himself by shouting and pushing tourists and workers, Big Bolliger noticed Lilith unconscious in his arms before he even noticed Jesper shouting and trying to get into the Crows Club, the line of people waiting to enter protested at the sight of the scene, "I've been here for three hours." "I've been waiting my turn since before the sun went down," were some of the comments Jesper could hear before turning towards the Pigeons, "And she’s dying. If you want I'll shoot you too so you can come in," the boy replied before entering the club. Inej was the first to notice Jesper, she stood beside him studying the girl's wounds, her gaze and expression impassive, used by now to such scenes, "Take her to her room, I'll go get Kaz." "No.... Don’t.... Call him..." said Lilith between sighs, before losing consciousness again. Jesper and Inej knew not to go against the girl's wishes, but they needed Kaz to heal her, he was the only one who could find a healer and hire them before the worst happened, "Lil, we have to, he's the only one who can help you." Jesper's voice was gentle and concerned, "Milana... Work... At the Orchid..." Lilith's laboured breathing grew quicker and more erratic as Jesper laid her down on the mattress.

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tumblertown-headcanons · 6 months

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Cute JeweledWaterLily wedding ideas!

Sage wore a *very* light purple tux with the veil as a cape. She kept her antlers out just so she could hang little jewels from them

Vapor had a very pretty mermaid cut pale blue dress while both her parents gave her away (I’m pretty sure her parents are okay. We never hear anything about them so I assume they’re fine)

Sylve meanwhile wore a princess-cut pastel pink dress and threw the bouquet. Assistant caught it, standing next to Alex

During the reception, Sir and Sunny got a bit drunk so Catherine helped take care of Goon, Aruna, and Bennett.

The newlyweds wore matching dresses for the reception and no heels were in sight. It’s better this way

Papyru and their friends set up the fireworks that went off at the end of the night, it was beautiful.

The cake was a three tier with one layer chocolate, then red velvet, then chocolate again. Vapor was tempted to make it herself but they ultimately decided against it

Flower They Auryn was the cutest thing ever and Caden was ring-bearer. Though the poor boy accidentally ran into Ivan just before the reception with the ring box open and became a bit of a blushing mess ;)

The rest of the wedding posse included Misra, Anne, and Fen as the bridesgaysmaids and Assistant, Alex, and Matt as the gaysgroomsmen

Awwww nice! :33

Sage, Auryn, Fen, and Anne: @sagehyperfixates

Vapor, Sylve, and Aruna: @vaporeon2010317

Sir: @sirlordevil

Sunny: @deadless-corpse

Catherine: @dr-catherine-sherman-owens

Goon: @boredgoon

Papyru and their friends: @the-excellent-papyru

Caden, Misra, Bennet, Ivan: @the-belle-siblings

Matt: @matt-man

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luckyluan · 5 months

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THE PROFESSOR AND THE UNICORN, Con't.

MARCH 16, 2024 - 11:21PM

Dr. Livingston Crane tilted his head as he thought about Oswin’s answer. His magical house guest was telling him of his home for the last four years and it was a mythic rescue facility in North Morgan. Livingston’s mind raced as Oswin told him of the different creatures who lived there and just how many unicorns called St. James Mythic Rescue home.

“So... there are more of you?” Livingston asked.

“There are several million unicorns throughout the realms, but I assure you, Livingston, there is only one me.”

Oswin’s almond shaped eyes burned a deep orange. His bright white smile peaked out from behind his dark, supple lips as he bit down on his bottom lip. Livingston squinted his eyes at Oswin before launching his inquisition.

“What’s the catch?” he said.

“I beg your pardon.” Oswin said immediately.

“What’s the catch? Why are you here? Did someone send you?”

Oswin dropped his gaze to his hands and Livingston searched his profile until he looked up.

“No one sent me.” Oswin stated. “But I believe you may not be the proper company?”

“Excuse me?” Livingston said.

“You are both a scientist and a witch, yet you doubt my presence even after the fantastic time we shared?” Oswin challenged.

His thick eyebrows were low over his squinted eyes which burned to a simmering yellow. Livingston drew his knees up to his chest as Oswin took a deep breath.

“Are you that afraid of genuine connection, Livingston? Could it be that I am here because you need me...to believe in me...”

Oswin’s voice was a swatch of velvet as it tickled Livingston’s ears. He let Oswin’s soothing voice caress his skin and dissolved into a mumble.

“It’s not that.” he said. “Magic has only ever brought me trouble. Magic doesn’t really bring good things back to me. That’s why I like science. Everything has a reason—a purpose, Oswin.”

“We have a purpose as well.” Oswin corrected. “Maybe The Divinities brought us together because we both needed this time.”

“The Divinities?” Livingston’s curiosity piqued.

Oswin tucked the tip of his thumb between his teeth as he thought. His locs fell in his face and briefly created a veil between them before Oswin tossed his hair back with a flick of a hand.

“The three sisters - Karma, Kairos, and Kismet – sit by The Omniscope and determine the course of every single person, human or abnormal. I think we’re supposed to be here together, Livingston. I, normally, do not stay in my human form for very long, but for you I would be human forever.”

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teresawymore · 5 months

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Patient: Edith “Eddie” Langley, Female, Age 25 Date: November 11, 1935 Session Number: 24

Psycho-sexual Evaluation: The patient presents with marked disturbances in her libidinal economy, manifesting in symptomatic neuroses that include a voyeuristic interest in peep shows, sadistic phantasies of restraint and control, and inversion. The patient’s reluctance to discuss the proximal cause for analysis and resistance to the psycho-analytic process obstruct a detailed anamnesis and diagnosis. Her perverse conduct likely stems from regressive infantile fixations and primal life conflicts. However, sado-masochistic tendencies often represent exposure to early-life adversities, necessitating exploration of both developmental and traumatic aetiologies.

Session Note: Persistent hostility towards the analytic process characterizes the patient’s demeanor. She manifests psychic distress, primarily due to disapproval from authoritative figures, notably her priest and her mother. An evident transference of repressed animosity towards her mother, coupled with an overt idealization, reveals significant ambivalence.

She provided further elaboration on her engagement with restraint, tracing its genesis to paternal influences. Initially a method for managing fear, the act of tying herself became a symbolic mechanism for control and subsequently acquired a sexual attitude.

Although initially contentious, the patient’s interaction with the analytic process has shown gradual shifts towards cooperation. The analytic relationship, however, remains volatile, with phases of rapport intermittently disrupted by the patient’s defensive withdrawals.

Interventions: Introduction to psycho-sexual literature (e.g., Havelock Ellis, Magnus Hirschfeld) aimed at bridging her conscious awareness with unconscious libidinal drives, focusing on her sexual constitution and societal repressions.

A fortuitous disclosure of the analyst’s familiarity with the Velvet Trap and its owner, Miss Vivian Moreau, revealed a potential avenue for deepening trust and openness in the analytic dyad. The patient’s frequent visits to the Velvet Trap, an underground establishment, suggest a compulsive employment of phantasy. Her adoption of the pseudonym “Atalanta” underscores a structured dichotomy that allows her to manage guilt and shame.

Consultations: Post-session, a dialogue with Dr. Victor Stahl was undertaken. He remarked on the problematic countertransference and advocated for increased self-reflection. He advised adherence to orthodox analytic methods and expressed unease with Dr. Sándor Ferenczi’s “active” technique in facilitating deeper patient engagement through a direct and nurturing approach.

Treatment Strategy: Continuation of regular psycho-analytic sessions utilizing free association, dream analysis, and the active technique is planned, as well as an exploration of the patient’s early life and potential traumatic events. Considering the patient’s intellectual engagement and imaginative capacity, the analyst may introduce literature and scholarly works to elucidate the nature of her deviations.

Confidential Notes by: Dr. Eleanor Wentworth, M.D., Psycho-Analyst

#metafiction #psychoanalysis #psychological drama #historical fiction #great depression #lgbtqfiction #lgbtq #sapphic fiction #lesbian #artists on tumblr #1930s

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emogummywoerm · 7 months

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About Me!

Hey! My name is Ally, I go by they/it! I'm a little silly and weird... I am a 15-year-old American, but I'm like...90% European. I can speak a LITTLE Chinese, as I have taken two years worth of language classes. 你好! 我喜欢比萨饼。我是叫 Bruce Wayne。😎 (My Chinese sucks, sorry to all native speakers)

Games I Like/Play:

Honkai Star Rail

Dead Plate

Doki Doki Literature Club

Sally Face

Pony Town

Cookie Run Kingdom

Hatsune Miku: Colorful Stage (Pjsk)

Shows I Like/Watch:

Sk8 The Infinity

She-Ra

Percy Jackson

My Hero Academia (only sometimes..)

Schitt's Creek

The Owl House

The Promised Neverland

Hazbin Hotel

Helluva Boss

Other Things I Like!!

Drawing

Creepypastas

Cats (I have three!!)

Reading (thriller, romance, fantasy)

Sharks

Ducks

Fireflies/Lightning Bugs

Dragonflies!!

Gummy worms

Chocolate

Being gay and doing crimes

Raccoons!!

"Solitiare" by Alice Oseman

"None Shall Sleep" by Ellie Marney

Into/Across the Spiderverse

My Favorite Characters:

Dr. Ratio, Sampo

Amity Blight, Lilith

Yuri, Monika

Fyodor, Chuuya (I've never seen BSD)

Octavia, Stolas

Vox, Velvet, Alastor

Catra, Scorpia, ENTRAPTA!!!

Tori Springs, Michael Holden

Sal, Larry, Ashley

Aoyama, Toga

Miles, Hobie, Spider-Cat, Peter Parked-Car

Toby, Jeff, NINA AHHHH

Rody, Vincent

Favorite Bands/Artists!

Paramore!!1!1!!1!

Panic! At The Disco

Good Charlotte

Dropkick Murphys

Hatsune Miku. /nj.

Arctic Monkeys

MIRANDA LAMBERT (+Pistol Annies)

ROB ZOMBIE!!

PIERCE THE VEIL ❤

ADO (ADO NATION AHH)

Black Sabbath

#music #about me #intro post #lgbtqia #special interest

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cagliostrohq · 1 year

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— TASK 001 UNLOCKED!

In the realm of Cagliostro, where magic intertwines with fate, a pivotal moment awaits you, brave adventurer. It is time to embrace the power to shape your own destiny. The path ahead is veiled in mystery, and the choices you make will ripple through the tapestry of your character's story. A fateful decision lies before you, and it is your solemn duty to choose your path.

Greetings, adventurers! In an enchanting realm where magic intertwines with the mundane, it's time to embark on a thrilling new task to help shape your characters, as well as focus on personal growth and self discovery! For this task, we've written up three prompts for you to choose from, and you may choose to do one, two, or even all three! These can be canon or not, it’s all about the fun of writing! The choice is entirely up to you, and as always with our tasks, participation is optional. This task does not have an expiration date, so there's never any worry about missing out!

TL;DR — Pick a prompt for your character to engage with, have fun and get creative with it! Prompts are listed below the cut, please tag your post with “cag: task 001″.

PROMPT ONE; THE HAUNTED HOLLOW

You journey into the dark depths of a haunted hollow. It is a place of eerie stillness, where the whispers of restless spirits echo through the shadows. As you cautiously tread through the mist-laden paths, a chilling presence makes itself known —a vengeful ghost. The spirit’s spectral figure looms before you, its eyes burning with an otherworldly fire. It emanates a chilling aura that sends shivers down your spine. Without warning, the ghost extends a translucent hand, its icy touch seeping into your very soul. Images flash before your eyes, a montage of the ghost's tragic demise, the anguish it endured, and the injustice it seeks to avenge.

As the ghost releases its grip, a solemn silence blankets the hollow. The vengeful spirit fixes its spectral gaze upon you, its voice echoing through the ethereal plane. "Mortal," it intones, its voice a haunting melody. "What do you fear the most? What deepest darkness lurks within your heart?"

PROMPT TWO; THE ENCHANTED MARKET

You stumble upon a hidden marketplace teeming with mystical artifacts and curious vendors. As you enter, your senses are overwhelmed by the exotic scent, vibrant colors, and hushed whispers that permeate the air. The stalls are filled with an array of mystical artifacts, each radiating their own unique energy. Among the intriguing wares, your eyes are drawn to a peculiar item, carefully displayed on a velvet cushion.

Approaching the stall, you notice the vendor; a wizened figure with knowing eyes and a mischievous grin. As you reach out to touch the item, a surge of energy courses through you, revealing glimpses of it's forbidden power and the danger it may hold. The vendor, with an enigmatic smile, unveils the artifact's true nature—a choice awaits you. Will you succumb to its potent but corrupting influence, knowing the immense power it can grant? Or will you resist its seductive allure, risking the loss of unimaginable might?

PROMPT THREE; THE SACRED GROVE

Deep within a sacred grove, you stumble upon a mystical tree adorned with shimmering leaves and radiant blossoms. Its ethereal presence resonates with ancient magic, offering you a profound choice. As you approach, the tree's soothing whispers caress your ears, revealing its secret.

You can either partake of its enchanted fruits, gaining profound wisdom and insight, but also shouldering the burden of an irreversible sacrifice. Or, you can resist the allure of the tree's offerings, preserving your current state of being, yet potentially missing out on the transformative power it holds. The decision lies in your hands, adventurer. Will you embrace the tree's gift and accept the consequences, or will you choose the path of caution and restraint?

#cag: task 001 #lsrp #oc rp #appless rp #skeleton rp #hehe the graphic has an error but i'll fix that later today ignore it for now HBSDFSHDJ

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veurmouth · 16 days

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Chapter 1: Interests.

Music

I enjoy listening to any kind of music, but I often listens to Taylor Swift, NIKI, My Chemical Romance, Paramore, Queen, AC/DC, All Time Low, Green Day, Pierce The Veil, Sleeping With Sirens, Arctic Monkeys, The Neighbourhood, The 1975, Coldplay, Dewa 19, Sheila On 7, Juicy Luicy, The Weeknd, Olivia Rodrigo, and Ariana Grande as well. I'm also into aespa, NewJeans, IVE, Red Velvet, BLACKPINK, ENHYPEN, RIIZE, TXT, and NCT Dream. Labeled myself as a casual listener of another K-Pop groups 3rd / 4th gen K-Groups in general.

Movies & Animes

I'm okay with every genre but I need to say- Action, Sci-fi, thriller, horror, and true crime genre are top tier! John Wick trilogy, Maze Runner trilogy, Harry Potter series, Mission: Impossible series, and many more! I'm not an avid fan, but I also watch anime such as One Piece, Haikyuu!, Hunter x Hunter, Attack On Titan, Jujutsu Kaisen, Dr. Stone, Spy x Family, et tecera.

Games

I play PUBGM, CODM, Genshin Impact (Ei main), Honkai: Star Rail, and Plato only if I have free time. 🎮

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luvrsoath · 4 months

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✰ indicates that pairing is a side ship/au ship !!

✄ indicates that the pairing has broken up !!

✘ indicates that the pairing is not canon !!

# GENSHIN IMPACT

MIKOSHI MAI

electro-lit dreams / tomai — mikoshi mai & tomo

ASATO AKIO

✄ ; flambé — asato akio & thoma

✄ ; frostflake rebellion — asato akio & kamisato ayaka

ARATAKI KI

demptio furem — arataki ki & kuki shinobu

?? — arataki ki & kuki shinobu & naganohara yoimiya

?? — arataki ki & naganohara yoimiya

✰ / ✘ ; suki — arataki ki & kuki shinobu & kujou sara

✰ / ✘ ; flabellum furem — arataki ki & kujou sara

✄ ; dr. & detective — arataki ki & shikanoin heizou

✄ / ✘ ; angel’s turmoil — arataki ki & vanserra malykai

NGÔ YẾN THI XUÂN

✄ / ✘ ; rewind — ngô yến thi xuân & arlecchino

PAPILLION VEILLANTIF

heel to heal — papillion veillantif & lucrezia

✰ ; in the frosted sea — papillion veillantif & wriothesley

✰ ; dernière danse — veillantif, lucrezia & navia, clorinde

# HONKAI: STAR RAIL

NINE

?? — nine & firefly

fluorescent dreams — nine & firefly & sparkle

?? — nine & sparkle

KHÔI

geniuses’ reprise — khôi & ruan mei

golden ratio — khôi & veritas ratio

✄ ; ode to the sea — khôi & tien

✘ ; water lilies’ grove — shūfēn & khôi

SHŪFĒN

✘ ; venus flytrap — shūfēn & dreamweaver

✘ ; the veiled god’s hand — shūfēn & ambrose

✘ ; garden of rotting roses — shūfēn & argenti

✘ ; water lilies’ grove — shūfēn & khôi

HÀOYÚ

a whisker away — hàoyú & jing yuan

HÓNGHUĀ

✰ ; ?? — hónghuā & huāfēn

✰ ; ?? — hónghuā & feixiao

RHODOLITE

?? — rhodolite & topaz

✘ ; ?? — rhodolite & moonstone

REMORA

within arms reach — remora & lomi

SAUVIGNON CABERNET

?? — sauvignon cabernet & d’acqui brachetto

HIBI

✰ ; ?? — hibi & falsym hollie

ODETTE

?? — odette & korix

RAFAEL

tanghulu — rafael & dra tart

KUMIKUMA

?? — kumikuma & velvet

TIEN

✄ ; ode to the sea — tien & khôi

# WUTHERING WAVES

YÀOXĪNG

?? — yàoxīng & jiyan

ORION

?? — orion & aalto

✰ ; ?? — orion & reene

# VALORANT

VƯƠNG KIM-LY

imperial gold — vương kim-ly & li zhao yu

✰ ; golden gears — vương kim-ly & iselin

✰ ; ?? — vương kim-ly & nectaria silviu

✄ ; snake’s dance — vương kim-ly & callas sabine

NGUYỄN HANH

fungi — nguyễn hanh & nectaria silviu

# ORIGINAL WORLD

KWON HA-MIN

?? — kwon ha-min & lim yu-mi

HUY ORPHEUS

?? — huy orpheus & lum latimeria

?? — huy orpheus & hong hyeonwoo

LUM LATIMERIA

?? — lum latimeria & huy orpheus

HONG HYEONWOO

?? — hong hyeonwoo & huy orpheus

# ETC

HOANG VIEN

encore before sunrise — hoang vien & solis morix

YÁN XIĀO JÌNG

lost to time — yán xiāo jìng & angel devil & hayakawa aki

LOVELACE WINNIE SEPHEREN

?? — lovelace winnie sephren & gogol nikolai

?? — l. winnie sephren & g. nikolai & dostoyevsky fyodor

?? — lovelace winnie sephren & d. fyodor

AIUICHI TOKI

?? — aiuchi toki & tokito muichiro

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fortuna9 · 9 months

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*watches Scott Pilgrim Takes Off once*

hmm,...should I make my band dr a fantasy dr? 🤔

#script is being opened #research is being done #world is being built #shifting antis dni #quantum jumping #reality shifting #fame dr #band dr #velvet veil dr

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bodyswappertransforming · 7 months

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Title: Shadows of Subterfuge

In the clandestine world of espionage, Agent Raven was tasked with infiltrating the elusive goth subculture to gather intel on a notorious underground network. Equipped with cutting-edge technology, she prepared to undergo a physical transformation like no other.

Entering the top-secret facility, Agent Raven was met by Dr. Nightshade, the mastermind behind the Physical Transformation Machine (PTM). The PTM was a marvel of modern science, capable of reshaping a person's appearance to match any desired identity.

Stepping into the sleek chamber, Agent Raven felt a surge of anticipation mixed with a hint of apprehension. She handed Dr. Nightshade the dossier containing details of her new identity: Elara Darkwood, a mysterious goth with a penchant for the occult and a talent for blending into the shadows.

With a few keystrokes, Dr. Nightshade initiated the transformation sequence. Agent Raven closed her eyes as a gentle hum filled the chamber, and a tingling sensation spread across her skin.

Slowly, her features began to change. Her hair darkened to an inky black, styled in intricate layers with streaks of deep purple. Piercing blue eyes transformed into smoldering pools of obsidian, framed by dramatic kohl-lined lids. Porcelain skin took on a pale, ethereal glow, adorned with delicate yet haunting tattoos that seemed to writhe and dance with a life of their own.

As the transformation neared completion, Agent Raven emerged from the chamber as Elara Darkwood, a vision of gothic allure and enigmatic charm. Dr. Nightshade marveled at his handiwork, nodding in approval as he handed her a tailored ensemble of flowing velvet and lace, complete with silver jewelry adorned with intricate occult symbols.

As Elara Darkwood stepped into the dimly lit streets, the transformation from Agent Raven to her gothic alter ego was complete. Her once mundane attire was replaced by a flowing ensemble of deep crimson velvet, adorned with intricate lace detailing that seemed to flutter with every movement. The fabric draped elegantly around her slender form, accentuating her newfound aura of mystery and allure.

Her hair, once a plain chestnut brown, now cascaded in waves of jet black and amethyst hues, framing her porcelain complexion like a veil of shadows. Strands of silver adorned with onyx beads intertwined with the dark locks, glinting softly in the moonlight.

Elara's piercing blue eyes had undergone a metamorphosis, now pools of darkness that seemed to draw one into their depths. Thick layers of kohl accentuated their intensity, giving her gaze a mesmerizing allure that hinted at untold secrets lurking beneath the surface.

Adorned with delicate yet haunting tattoos that snaked across her arms and décolletage, Elara moved with an otherworldly grace, each step a silent echo in the night. Silver jewelry adorned her slender fingers, each piece etched with intricate occult symbols that whispered of ancient mysteries and forgotten rituals.

As she navigated the labyrinthine streets of the goth subculture, Elara felt a sense of liberation unlike anything she had experienced before. Gone was the rigid structure of her former identity, replaced by a newfound sense of freedom and empowerment that came with embracing her darker nature.

With every passing moment, Elara delved deeper into the heart of the subculture, immersing herself in its music, its art, and its rituals. She frequented underground clubs where the air pulsed with the hypnotic rhythm of industrial beats, losing herself in the swirling maelstrom of bodies and shadows.

But amidst the hedonistic revelry and intoxicating allure of the night, Elara remained vigilant, her senses attuned to the subtle whispers of danger that lurked in the shadows. With each encounter, she gleaned valuable insights into the inner workings of the underground network she had been tasked to infiltrate, weaving herself ever deeper into its tangled web of intrigue and deception.

As the nights wore on and the lines between reality and illusion blurred, Elara Darkwood embraced her new identity with a fierce determination, ready to confront whatever darkness lay ahead in her quest for truth and justice. For beneath the facade of velvet and lace, she knew that the heart of a warrior beat within her chest, undaunted by the perils that awaited her in the shadows.

With her new identity firmly in place, Elara Darkwood set out into the night, ready to navigate the shadowy depths of the goth subculture with ease. Little did her targets know, beneath the facade of darkness lay the keen intellect and steely resolve of Agent Raven, poised to uncover their secrets and dismantle their operation from within

And so began Elara Darkwood's journey into the shadows.

In the four months since assuming her identity as Elara Darkwood, Agent Raven had become an integral part of the gothic subculture, seamlessly blending in with its denizens while meticulously gathering intelligence on the underground network she had been tasked to infiltrate.

Her nights were spent immersed in the pulsating heartbeat of the underground scene, drifting effortlessly from one shadowy enclave to the next, her presence a whisper in the darkness. She frequented dimly lit clubs where the air was thick with incense and the music reverberated through the very walls, losing herself in the hypnotic rhythm of the night.

With each passing day, Elara forged connections with key players within the subculture, earning their trust with her enigmatic charm and insatiable curiosity. She delved into the depths of their world, attending clandestine gatherings where rituals were performed beneath the cloak of secrecy, her keen eyes absorbing every detail, every nuance, in search of the truth that lay hidden beneath the surface.

But as she delved deeper into the labyrinthine network of the underground, Elara found herself walking a precarious tightrope between loyalty and betrayal. The lines between friend and foe became increasingly blurred, and the weight of her double life bore down upon her with each passing day.

Yet amidst the chaos and uncertainty, Elara remained resolute in her mission, her determination unwavering in the face of adversity. She knew that the information she gathered was crucial to dismantling the network from within, and she would stop at nothing to see her mission through to its end.

And so, as the shadows lengthened and the nights grew colder, Elara Darkwood continued her solitary vigil, a lone figure in the darkness, her true identity known only to herself. For in the world of espionage, the line between truth and deception was a razor's edge, and she walked it with unwavering resolve, ready to confront whatever challenges lay ahead in her quest for justice.

As the months stretched on, Elara Darkwood became increasingly enmeshed in the labyrinthine web of the gothic subculture, her once frequent check-ins with her superiors becoming fewer and farther between. Immersed in her role as an undercover agent, she had become a shadow within the shadows, her true identity buried beneath layers of deception and intrigue.

Her absence from the grid did not go unnoticed, however, and concerns began to mount within the agency tasked with overseeing her mission. Speculation ran rampant as to her whereabouts and well-being, with theories ranging from capture by the enemy to voluntary defection.

Yet amidst the growing uncertainty, Elara remained steadfast in her resolve, her commitment to her mission unwavering despite the risks that lurked in the darkness. She knew that every moment spent undercover brought her closer to the heart of the underground network she had been tasked to infiltrate, and she would not falter in her pursuit of the truth.

Meanwhile, within the depths of the gothic subculture, whispers began to circulate of a mysterious figure who moved with the grace of a wraith and possessed an uncanny ability to blend into the shadows. Some spoke of her in hushed tones, revering her as a queen of the night, while others regarded her with a mixture of fear and awe, uncertain of her true motives.

But amidst the intrigue and uncertainty, Elara remained resolute in her mission, her allegiance unwavering despite the dangers that lurked around every corner. For in the shadows of subterfuge, she knew that the line between friend and foe was blurred, and only by embracing the darkness could she hope to emerge victorious in her quest for justice.

As the months turned into years, Elara Darkwood's transformation from Agent Raven into a fully-fledged member of the gothic subculture was complete. What had started as a mission had become her way of life, and with each passing day, she found herself embracing the darkness more deeply, shedding the last vestiges of her former identity like a snake shedding its skin.

Her appearance had undergone a metamorphosis, her once unassuming features now cloaked in an aura of mystery and allure. Her hair, once a mundane chestnut brown, had been transformed into a cascade of jet black and amethyst hues, styled in intricate layers that framed her pale, porcelain complexion like a veil of shadows.

Gone were the tailored suits and polished veneer of her former life, replaced by flowing ensembles of velvet and lace that whispered of forgotten rituals and ancient mysteries. Adorned with silver jewelry etched with occult symbols, Elara moved through the darkness with a grace and poise that spoke of a lifetime spent immersed in its depths.

But it was not just her appearance that had changed; it was her very essence. With each passing day, Elara found herself drawn deeper into the subculture, forging connections with its denizens that went beyond mere camaraderie. She had become a part of something greater than herself, a tapestry of darkness and light woven from the threads of countless souls who sought solace in the shadows.

And yet, amidst the hedonistic revelry and intoxicating allure of the night, a part of Elara remained vigilant, a silent watcher in the darkness. She knew that the world she inhabited was not without its dangers, and that the line between friend and foe was often blurred beyond recognition.

But as the years stretched on and her mission remained unfulfilled, Elara found herself questioning the very nature of her existence. Was she still the same person who had entered the shadows so many years ago, or had she become something else entirely?

#undercover cop #mental change #bodyswap #fantasy #goth girl #goth #transformation #Body Transformation #transformation kink #bodybuilding #body swap #body possession #bodyswapperTF #tf #male tf #male to female tf #female 2 male tf #reality change #gay

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