#the satisfaction of this being exactly 100 words

[emlovessid]

november 29, together, 100 words unofficial jegulus microfics with @onehundredflamingos

“Regulus and I…” James says, fumbling over his words. “We’re…”

Together?

Together doesn’t feel like enough to describe them. He’s the first thing James thinks about when he wakes up, the last thing he thinks about before he goes to sleep, and every moment in between. He’s not sure that he believes soulmates are real, like in the books where they only see in black and white until they meet them. But if they did exist? Life with Regulus is technicolour.

He meets Sirius’ eyes then, knowing exactly how to explain what he’s been trying to say, “He’s my Remus.”

[byoldervine]

Writing Tips - Beating Perfectionism

1. Recognising writing perfectionism. It’s not usually as literal as “This isn’t 100% perfect and so it is the worst thing ever”, in my experience it usually sneaks up more subtly. Things like where you should probably be continuing on but if you don’t figure out how to word this paragraph better it’s just going to bug you the whole time, or where you’re growing demotivated because you don’t know how to describe the scene 100% exactly as you can imagine it in your head, or things along those lines where your desire to be exact can get in the way of progression. In isolated scenarios this is natural, but if it’s regularly and notably impacting your progress then there’s a more pressing issue

2. Write now, edit later. Easier said than done, which always infuriated me until I worked out how it translates into practice; you need to recognise what the purpose of this stage of the writing process is and when editing will hinder you more than help you. Anything up to and including your first draft is purely done for structural and creative purposes, and trying to impose perfection on a creative process will naturally stifle said creativity. Creativity demands the freedom of imperfection

3. Perfection is stagnant. We all know that we have to give our characters flaws and challenges to overcome since, otherwise, there’s no room for growth or conflict or plot, and it ends up being boring and predictable at best - and it’s just the same as your writing. Say you wrote the absolute perfect book; the perfect plot, the perfect characters, the perfect arcs, the perfect ending, etc etc. It’s an overnight bestseller and you’re discussed as a literary great for all time. Everyone, even those outside of your target demographic, call it the perfect book. Not only would that first require you to turn the perfect book into something objective, which is impossible, but it would also mean that you would either never write again, because you can never do better than your perfect book, or you’ll always write the exact same thing in the exact same way to ensure constant perfection. It’s repetitive, it’s boring, and all in all it’s just fearful behaviour meant to protect you from criticism that you aren’t used to, rather than allowing yourself to get acclimated to less than purely positive feedback

4. Faulty comparisons. Comparing your writing to that of a published author’s is great from an analytical perspective, but it can easily just become a case of “Their work is so much better, mine sucks, I’ll never be as good as them or as good as any ‘real’ writer”. You need to remember that you’re comparing a completely finished draft, which likely underwent at least three major edits and could have even had upwards of ten, to wherever it is you’re at. A surprising number of people compare their *first* draft to a finished product, which is insanity when you think of it that way; it seems so obvious from this perspective why your first attempt isn’t as good as their tenth. You also end up comparing your ability to describe the images in your head to their ability to craft a new image in your head; I guarantee you that the image the author came up with isn’t the one their readers have, and they’re kicking themselves for not being able to get it exactly as they themselves imagine it. Only the author knows what image they’re working off of; the readers don’t, and they can imagine their own variation which is just as amazing

5. Up close and too personal. Expanding on the last point, just in general it’s harder to describe something in coherent words than it is to process it when someone else prompts you to do so. You end up frustrated and going over it a gazillion times, even to the point where words don’t even look like words anymore. You’ve got this perfect vision of how the whole story is supposed to go, and when you very understandably can’t flawlessly translate every single minute detail to your satisfaction, it’s demotivating. You’re emotionally attached to this perfect version that can’t ever be fully articulated through any other medium. But on the other hand, when consuming other media that you didn’t have a hand in creating, you’re viewing it with perfectly fresh eyes; you have no ‘perfect ideal’ of how everything is supposed to look and feel and be, so the images the final product conjures up become that idealised version - its no wonder why it always feels like every writer except you can pull off their visions when your writing is the only one you have such rigorous preconceived notions of

6. That’s entertainment. Of course writing can be stressful and draining and frustrating and all other sorts of nasty things, but if overall you can’t say that you ultimately enjoy it, you’re not writing for the right reasons. You’ll never take true pride in your work if it only brings you misery. Take a step back, figure out what you can do to make things more fun for you - or at least less like a chore - and work from there

7. Write for yourself. One of the things that most gets to me when writing is “If this was found and read by someone I know, how would that feel?”, which has lead me on multiple occasions to backtrack and try to be less cringe or less weird or less preachy or whatever else. It’s harder to share your work with people you know whose opinions you care about and whose impressions of you have the potential of shifting based on this - sharing it to strangers whose opinions ultimately don’t matter and who you’ll never have to interact with again is somehow a lot less scary because their judgements won’t stick. But allowing the imaginary opinions of others to dictate not even your finished project, but your unmoderated creative process in general? Nobody is going to see this without your say so; this is not the time to be fussing over how others may perceive your writing. The only opinion that matters at this stage is your own

8. Redirection. Instead of focusing on quality, focusing on quantity has helped me to improve my perfectionism issues; it doesn’t matter if I write twenty paragraphs of complete BS so long as I’ve written twenty paragraphs or something that may or may not be useful later. I can still let myself feel accomplished regardless of quality, and if I later have to throw out whole chapters, so be it

9. That’s a problem for future me. A lot of people have no idea how to edit, or what to look for when they do so, so having a clear idea of what you want to edit by the time the editing session comes around is gonna be a game-changer once you’re supposed to be editing. Save the clear work for when you’re allocating time for it and you’ll have a much easier and more focused start to the editing process. It’ll be more motivating than staring blankly at the intimidating word count, at least

10. The application of applications. If all else fails and you’re still going back to edit what you’ve just wrote in some struggle for the perfect writing, there are apps and websites that you can use that physically prevent you from editing your work until you’re done with it. If nothing else, maybe it can help train you away from major edits as you go

[judesmoonbeauty]

Jude Jazza's IF Prison Guard Story Set: "Lewd Punishment"- Story Two

MDNI. NSFW. This is part 2 of the story. Translations will include heavily cropped screenshots as mentioned here. Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. Thank you, for you support! ☾.

CW: Gagging, Brief mention of death, Dubcon/Noncon - Just in case. And probably the most awkwardly translated smut you'll read.

Kate: Ah…..Nn……ha!

Something hot drags itself inside me repeatedly, making me let out shriek-like cry.[1]

The enemy guard grabs me by my waist to stop me from escaping, and pounds his heat inside of me.

Before my foolish appearance, amethyst eyes glow dimly, and he smiles with satisfaction.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: At yer limit? ‘Forehand, when I gave ya my hand, ya said “It doesn’t feel good”.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Yer all bark ‘n no bite, small fry.

Kate: Ahhh…..!

He penetrates deep inside me, and just like that I hit my peak.

White sparks burst into my vision, my body trembling in the afterglow……after a period of time, he pulls out slowly.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: …..Ha, yeah that’s a good look.

I was a spy and now I'm a prisoner of war in an enemy country.

Even when I was interrogated by people from the enemy country while imprisoned, I never said a word.

— And the guard who couldn’t overlook that, began to punish me every night, by roughly embracing me.

(The guard hasn't come yet, although it's his usual time to do so.)

(Maybe something happened. Or perhaps he’s grown tired of me….?)

My body tingled when I thought of the guard — but then I can back to my senses.

(Was I…..hoping the guard would come just now?)

I thought I had a strong heart, but I’m sure we’ve grown closer.

The pleasure he’d given me was like a sweet poison, and before I knew it, I was addicted.

(….This is exactly what the other party wants.)

(If I’m going to go insane and give up information….then I’d rather die before that happens.)

Kate: Today, I’ll surprise you.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: ….Whaddya gonna do?

I smiled, open my mouth — and bit my tongue hard.

I could feel my teeth break through the  soft flesh, as the taste of iron spreads in my mouth.

(……….Huh?)

But no matter how long I waited, the pain never came.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: ….Don’t be so selfish.

When I looked, the guard was sticking his finger in my mouth.

Apparently it was his finger that I bit.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: ‘N don’t chew off my finger. It ain’t tonight’s dinner.

I obediently opened my mouth and released the guard’s injured finger.

Kate: Why….

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Yer life doesn't belong to ya or to yer country. It’s mine now.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: I decide whether ya live or die. Don’t think ya can just die when ya want.

The guard said without hesitation while shooting me at sharp gaze.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: ….So, why’d ya do it?

Kate: ….

Kate: ….I, didn’t want to change.

Kate: I can't forgive myself for being addicted to the pleasure you give me, and waiting for you every night —….Mmph!

In the middle of my story, the guard kisses me and my eyes widen in surprise.

Kate: Ah…….w-what are you doing….mm

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Watcha said just now, sounded like a pickup line to me.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Ya can’t be satisfied without me, ‘n it’s hard bein’ away from me, innit?

Kate: No! I just want it all to end.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: I won’t letcha off ya for sayin’ that.

The guard spoke coldly, and forcibly gagged me.

It's probably one of the tools the guards carry around to prevent prisoners from biting their tongues.

(That's right... If I die, you won't be able to get any information.)

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Until ya no longer have the will to die, I ain’t takin’ this off, ‘cept for meals.

With the gag on, I could barely speak, so it was impossible to complain.

All I could do was glare at the guard with resentment.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: ……Those eyes are excitin’, but it’s borin’ when ya can’t say anything.

The guard flicked the gag with his fingertip, then rolled me on the bed, disheveling my clothes.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Don’t need nothin’ today, so this is the only place I’ll touch.

The guard ran his hand over my chest.

Kate: Mmph……

Seeing my breasts change shape from the guard’s large hands was both erotic and embarrassing.

Since I was gagged, I shook my head no, but I was able ignored.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: The tips are already so stiff. …..Nasty woman.

Kate: AHH!

When he pinches my nipples, my body feels a sweet bolt of lightning. [2]

The guard’s head approached my chest as he twisted my peaks.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Hmm……

Kate: UGH…..haa…haa

One of them is kneaded and crushed by the guard’s fingers, while the other was attacked by his mouth.

As I’m sweetly bitten and sucked on strongly, heat builds up in my lower abdomen…..

…..And before I knew it, I was rubbing my thighs together.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Haa…ya can’t hold back anymore. Yer an impatient woman.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard:…Toldja I wouldn’t touch ya anywhere but here t’night.

(The only place he’ll touch are my breasts…?)

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Ya tryin’ to lure me in by lookin’ like ya want it? Sorry but….

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: If yer feelin’ lonely inside, then do it yerself.

(I can't do that myself...It’s too embarrassing…...)

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Can’t do it?

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Ya say ya can’t do it unless it’s me, ‘n it’s hard when we’re apart,

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Even though I trained ya to cum here.

(I never said that….!)

Kate: Mmmhm…! Ugghh!

I tried to protest, but with the gag on I couldn't get any words out.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: …Haha, why’re groaning? How cute.

The guard kissed my cheek, while still gagged.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Well, just once. ‘Cause yer so cute.

The hands that had been torturing my breasts reached between my legs and massaged me with practiced hands, and —

Kate: Ahh….!

A hot shaft touched my slick entrance, and penetrated me swiftly. [3]

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Ya swallowed it right away... ..You've already memorized my shape, haven't ya?

Kate:Mmm…..ah…..!

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Oh, “I want it deeper”? Then it can’t be helped —

It was fabricated although I didn’t say a thing, and he thrust so deeply inside me.

Sparks fly around my vision and I nearly lose consciousness, but I endure it and glare at the guard pinning me down.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Ha, that’s nice look….

Even that seems to be a source of excitement for the guard, and his rhythm becomes more intense again.

(Ooh, what should I do?)

(I mustn’t accept this, but….)

Entangling our legs and holding each other tightly…..

In the end, I surrendered to the pleasure that was given to me.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Haaah. ….Why would I become so absorbed with a woman like this?

The guard whispers to himself as he pulls out his heat from me.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: …..It's yer fault for not openin’ yer mouth. Thanks to that, I hafta punish ya every night.

There's something sweet and sad about the guard's voice that sticks with me.

(The guard is just trying to get me to reveal information……)

(It seems like you're attached to me.…..but, I'm sure it's just my delusion.)

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: As expected...ya haven't had enough punishment yet, so I'll have to do it one more time.

Kate: …..[Gasp]?!

Even if I wanted to protest, the gag wouldn't allow me to speak.

(….. Ah, but maybe it's okay to stay like this forever.)

— Things like liking you, or loving you.

This will prevent us from having to convey our confused feelings due to misunderstandings, as our bodies grow closer.

Yoooo, you idiots better both properly communicate in the main route.

Ftn [1]: Rubs was replaced with drags. Ftn [2]: For the sake of variety, I changed “tips of my breasts” to nipples because dammit that’s what they are. Ftn [3]: This was literally translated: “A hot ferocious stake applied to my muddy entrance.” I…..couldn’t. CHANGED.

[Master List] Dividers: @.natimiles

Tags List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @letter-from-afar @nateko @cosmowgyrall. @lunaaka

Please let me know if you want to be added to my tags list by commenting below.

[whateverloomis]

What if you did a Billy x reader x Stu where they’re like IN LOVE in love w reader but the readers just super oblivious and when they kill their girlfriends readers just like “oh shit I’m next” but they confess they’re love also reader could be gender neutral

(I’m sorry if this sucks I am NOT good at requests)

Don't worry anon, it's totally okay! I feel like I got way too dramatic with this lmao, but we need a little bit of drama to spice things up once in a while :P

Warnings: Hopelessly romantic Billy and Stu (lol,) stalking, mentions of murders, touchy feely Billy and Stu, kissing (nothing too intense here,) unedited

Word count: 1.3k

Reader: GN, no pronouns used

Casey, Tatum and now Sidney. You're most likely next. No, you are next, 100%. Why would the ghost face killer spare you? You're part of the friend group and you sure as hell aren't special. At least that's what you told yourself, but Billy and Stu thought different.

They were both painfully in love with you. They couldn't handle having anyone trying to hit on you and steal you from them. They were possessive and with each day it got even more intense and fucked up.

They's kill whoever showed any kind of romantic interest in you. It was unbearable to know there was someone else other than them who felt for you.

Billy loved to follow you to your house and make random apparitions when you least expected it. He thought it was so adorable when you did that little jump when he scared you.

"Billy! You scared me!" You said after gasping.

"Aw I didn't mean to." He said, eyes dark with amusement.

You looked around, anxiety evident since he triggered your fight or flight. What if there was someone else following you? What if the killer's stalking you without you realizing it? If Billy, your close friend who you could easily recognize could do it then a masked killer could do it too. You were terrified.

"It's okay I... Can you walk me home? It's getting kinda dark already." You asked and Billy smirked. He got exactly what he wanted.

"Sure thing."

•

Somewhere along the way he placed his hand around your waist while you guys walked. You didn’t think much of it since he obviously didn’t mean anything by it, so you thought. Instead, you expressed to him how scared you were because of the kills taking place in Woodsboro. It had been months since your friends were slaughtered and you got pretty good at suppressing your emotions and continuing your life semi normally, but it still got to you inevitably from time to time.

Billy and Stu were your primary source of comfort. After the kills took place they didn’t waste any time and became as close to you as they could.

“I understand your worries and fears, YN. Really, I do, but…” he trailed off. Billy didn’t want to exactly dismiss your words, he just wanted to play around with them a little bit so everything was in his and Stu’s favor.

“…but you have me now. Me and Stu. We’ll protect you no matter what. You’re safe, I promise.” Billy reassured and smirked in satisfaction once he felt you relax under his shoulder.

“You’re right,” you said softly as you climbed up the stairs to your front porch.

Billy stood in front of you, one step lower and leaned against the wooden rail. He looked into your eyes and for a second your heart skipped a beat, but you blinked quickly and looked away, composing yourself.

Billy is undeniably attractive but you couldn't go there, plus there was no chance in hell he'd be interested, so you brush any weird feelings away.

"You home alone tonight? I can keep you company if you'd like," the boy suggested and you definitely wouldn't have minded one bit. Being home alone wasn't your favorite thing especially after the murders. Much less being alone an entire week thanks to your parents being away on a work trip.

You hesitated for a moment, not knowing if it would be best to be alone or with someone in the house. What if Billy got killed instead of you? Or worse, what if you both got killed? In your own home? The irrational thoughts ran wild and Billy could see that you were lost in them.

"Hey" he said softly and grabbed your hand reassuringly, secretly seeking more physical contact with you; "It's okay if you don't want me to-" - "No, no it's not that I just..." you trailed off when you felt Billy touch your cheek with his free hand, looking into your eyes. Was he going to kiss you? It definitely looked like he was, but the boy got interrupted.

"What's up kiddos!? We having a party at YNs?" Stu broke Billy's moment as he approached from behind. The boy bit his lip in annoyance and glared at Stu as he made his way towards you and hugged you tightly, lifting you up in the process.

You inevitably giggled at his playfulness and placed your hands on his chest as he set you down.

"C'mon! Let's have a movie night or something! You got popcorn here?" Stu asked excitedly and you nodded. His cheerfulness made the idea sound perfect, so you took his offer and invited the boys in.

•

"Ugh, why is there always a lowkey love interest in horror movies? Everyone is gonna die anyways." You said related to the film you were watching.

Billy craned his neck to the side and looked at you, lifting an eyebrow in intrigue; "Why wouldn't there be? It makes things more interesting." He said and Stu hummed in agreement, lost in the sex scene that was taking place on the screen.

"Well, yeah but what's the point? Honestly." You replied and Billy gave you a confused expression.

"I mean, have you ever been in love? If you analyze it, it does make sense." Billy said and you thought for a second before replying; "Mm, no. I don't think I ever have."

At your words Billy shifted on the couch to face you completely. Stu paused the movie, too shocked to continue watching the film.

"Are you serious?" Billy asked and Stu looked at you in shock, his head resting on Billy's shoulder.

"No. It's not a big deal guys. Plus, nobody has ever been in love with me either so it doesn't really matter."

The boys tensed up at your words. Were you really that oblivious? The tension, the touchiness, the compliments, all their love languages spilled on you wasn't obvious enough?

"What if I told you that you're wrong?" Billy asked, his voice soft.

"The signs have been in front of you the whole time, YN!" Stu said, losing his patience.

You couldn't read their expressions or understand what they were trying to say. Were they admitting that they both love you? There was no way that could be true, right?

"Wh- What are you guys saying?" You asked and Billy had enough of your games, even though you had no idea they felt challenged by you.

The boy leaned in and kissed you. His hand immediately fell on your thigh and you couldn't help but kiss him back.

Stu stood up and sat behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing kisses on your shoulder.

You felt chills all over your body at the sensation of both of their lips on you. You never thought you'd ever be in this position, much less with your best friends. The only ones left after everything. The only ones who were there for you.

Your emotions were overwhelming. You were confused, excited and turned on all at once. Maybe you have feelings for them too and didn't even realize it.

"You don't know how much I've been waiting to get my hands on you." Billy whispered against your lips and kissed you a few more times before continuing; "Show you how much I feel for you... Fuck, how much we both feel for you." He bit his lower lip and kissed you again.

You moaned into Billy's mouth, his words were so promising. So real.

"Mhmm." Stu hummed softly in agreement next to you; "It's been driving me crazy, YN... Both of us." He continued and turned you around. It was his turn to kiss you now. You played with each other's tongues and moaned softly into each other's mouths before he finally said it; "We love you." He kissed you once more before continuing; "So fucking much." He finished as he squeezed your sides in excitement.

Billy wrapped his arms around you from behind, his limbs resting above Stu's; "So... So much, baby." He whispered in your ear and you just about melted.

You had so much to figure out. So much to address with yourself and so much confusion circling in your head, but all you could think about was how much you wanted them. How much you needed to feel them and explore their feelings further. How much you needed Billy Loomis and Stu Macher.

[caesariawritesstuff]

Ok I'm sorry but I have to do this! Is there anyway we could get a small continuation of that Scarecrow x Detective short story you wrote? Maybe how Ed would react to hearing that Jonathan did something to the Detective? Or just noticing her acting off afterward? If not that is 100% ok!

Precious Heart

Summary: After learning about Detective's conversation with Jonathan Crane, Edward isn't too happy, and makes an effort to confront Crane himself. Continuation of the short fic, Damaged Goods.

Content Warning: Angst & Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Minor spoilers for Cat & Mouse

Word Count: 3k

A/N: This fic is a continuation of Damaged Goods, and currently not canon to the official Cat&Mouse!Verse storyline.

Right about now, you could scream.

The sensation lingered in the back of your throat, building and building as you stormed down the hall from the morgue. Rage rushed through you as hot as dry lightning, sparking a fire deep in your belly – and a strange, lingering warmth between your legs.

Because here you were, suddenly turned on by Jonathan Crane.

Scowling, you threw a glance over your shoulder as you stopped in front of the elevator, glaring back down the hall. Bastard, you thought, a dozen curses ringing through your mind. How dare he put his hands on you? Slowly, you reached up, your fingers grazing across the question mark pendant dangling around your neck, resting at the delicate hollow of your throat. You could not believe the interaction that just happened, and you found yourself replaying it over and over again in your head, on repeat, a never-ending loop.

If there was one person in this damn precinct who had become an anomaly to you, it was Jonathan Crane. Never had you expected a man like him to be given a chance at reform as well, especially considering the fact that he’d caused so much chaos and destruction three years ago – but you supposed you could understand why City Council would want him to help on this case. Even you and Mack were completely and utterly stumped, out of your minds about who else in this damn city could be developing a horrifying toxin capable of melting people’s bodies from inside out. The thought sent a tremor of fear through you – and you cursed yourself under your breath again, at the very prospect of being afraid. Because deep down, you knew that’s exactly what Crane wanted you to be: scared. Fearful. Terrified. And you would not give him that satisfaction; you’d been through enough in the last few months, and you were not willing to let the Master of Fear get under your skin.

With a heavy sigh, you took the elevator back up the Homicide Divisions floor, but as the numbers ticked by as slow as ever, you caught a glimpse of your reflection on the wall: your wide eyes, flushed cheeks, the small pout to your lips. A strange sensation bubbled in your stomach, hot and writhing, causing an uncomfortable knot to form there. You had not expected the entire interaction with Crane to be…heated. Or for him to have such an effect on you, one you weren’t even sure you were even processing clearly. All you really knew was that that familiar pulsing of warmth throbbed in your clit, and it had been caused by a man who was, perhaps, one of the most terrifying people you’d ever met.

There had been something cold in his blue eyes, even though the right was damaged and milky, but the way he looked at you – studied you from head to toe as if you were a science experiment – wasn’t what bothered you. Neither did the white scars all across his skin, remnants of his reconstructed face, a stark change to the man who was hauled into the GCPD three years ago, completely out of his own mind on fear toxin. What bothered you was how easily he’d approached you, grasping at the pendant around your neck with care, asking you such blasé questions about your relationship with Edward. Questions even you had asked yourself over the last few months – because Crane was right. You did not know what a man like Edward Nigma had come to see you in, why he’d fallen for you, and Crane’s questions only furthered your own. But what you could not understand was why he cared so much to ask them – and why he seemed so content to believe you were ruined for anyone else, all because Edward had touched you, lied with you, had claimed you as his own. You were not ruined, and you would not let Jonathan Crane or anyone else think otherwise.

“Bastard,” you mumbled under your breath again as the doors opened and you stepped out, taking a quick glance around at the detectives and officers milling about. The room was buzzing with voices and chatter, phones ringing off the hook, you quickly made your way back to your desk, sitting down with a heavy sigh. You lowered your face into your hands, pain throbbing at your skull, spreading across your temples.

Shit. This wasn’t good – you should not let Crane be getting under your skin like this, or feel so…well, you weren’t sure what you were feeling right about now. Rage. Irritation. Annoyance. Pleasure.

Crap. The way he’d circled around you, a predator analyzing its prey, the way he’d grasped your pendant and stroked it at with his fingers – something about the entire movement caused your clit to ache. What was it about men like Edward Nigma and Jonathan Crane that had you feeling such utter draw to them? Maybe you were beginning to realize that you had a type.

And, as much as you couldn’t help it, you found your thoughts beginning to wander. What would it have been like if Crane had bent you over that morgue table and had his way with you, fucking you into oblivion, his hand wrapped your throat as his cold, raspy voice whispered dirty things into your ear?

“Shit,” you whispered, but just as the words escaped your lips, a mug of coffee was set beside you. You glanced up to find Edward standing there, his own mug of coffee in hand, and he smirked at you, eyes studying you with slow intention.

“Thanks,” you said, taking the mug, but a heartbeat of guilt passed through you. You were with Edward for God’s sake – why were you thinking about another man?

Edward’s eyes narrowed, as if he immediately could sense something was wrong, and his gaze roved over you, making the skin prickle on the back of your neck. “Is something wrong, detective?”

“No, nothing,” you said quickly, the lie heavy on your tongue – but by the way Edward’s brows furrowed, you knew he didn’t believe you. Of course he didn’t. Why was he so capable of reading you? You averted your gaze, quickly taking a sip of coffee, and burned your tongue.

Edward crossed his arms. “Come now, detective,” he sighed. “Tell me what’s happened.”

You looked up and around; Mack was gone from his desk, and everyone else was far too busy involved in their own cases to be bothering to listen to you. Sighing, you gestured for Edward to sit, and he took the empty chair at the desk beside you, waiting for you to continue.

“So…Jonathan Crane is…interesting,” you finally said, choosing your words carefully.

Edward quirked a brow, leaning back in his chair. “Did he say something to you?”

You were silent for a beat, but you knew there was no point in lying. “Well...I was down in the morgue when the power went out. We had an…interesting talk.”

“About?” Something cold laced Edward’s voice, curiosity in his tone.

“My relationship with you.”

Edward was quiet for a long moment, long enough that you could tell he was thinking through every possibility that such a conversation entailed. Finally, he sighed and asked, “And what did the good doctor say?”

“He…” You looked away, biting slightly on your bottom lip as you struggled to answer his question. The last thing you wanted to do was have Edward go storming down to the morgue and throwing a fit in a jealous huff.

Finally, you looked back at him. “He just wanted to know about us. You know, how long we’d been together. That kind of thing.”

Edward blinked. His face was like stone, a passive statue of emotionless. Finally, he smiled, his grin stretching from ear to ear. “Well, can you blame him? Why wouldn’t he be curious? After all, you’re with me – the smartest, most handsome man in Gotham. It’s only natural for him to be curious about a relationship which is so great that he cannot even comprehend.”

“So great, huh?” you asked, unable to fight the smile threatening to curve at your lips.

“Of course, my dear. You’re with me, remember?” His grin didn’t faulter, but he leaned forward slightly. “And I am the best partner, the best lover, you could ever ask for. No need to deny it, detective, we both know it’s the truth.”

You rolled your eyes, a small laugh bubbling out of your chest. Well, at least his ego was still intact – you did not think that was one thing that could ever be taken away from Edward. But as you turned back to your desk, content to pour over the case files, another heartbeat of regret pounded in your stomach, spreading like wildfire through your bloodstream – but there was something else, too, something raw and real and terrifying that you did not want to admit.

Because, deep down, you knew that Jonathan Crane was right.     

Edward had completely, and utterly ruined you.

?

If there was one thing Edward come to learn long ago, it was that Jonathan Crane was a very deliberate man. He did not ask questions without purpose, without trying to learn something about someone, without trying to find their weakness or exploits. The man was a manipulative bastard, but he supposed he could say the same about himself. Perhaps that’s why they got along so well over the years. While Edward had often found himself at odds with the likes of Penguin and Two-Face, it was Jonathan whom he retained the closest thing to a friendship.

So having him here at the GCPD was quite the surprise – one that had even Edward questioning Jonathan’s own motivations for why he would accept a similar deal from City Council. But so far, Edward had been far too busy with his own tasks to find a moment to slip down to the forensics lab and have a moment to speak alone with Jonathan – until now.

A knot of uncertainty bundled in Edward’s stomach. It had been clear that you’d been hiding something from him when retelling your conversation with Crane, but Edward hadn’t pressed further – he wanted to hear the details from Crane himself. Clearly, he’d must have asked something to get under your skin. Probably some silly thing about fear or terror or whatever else Jonathan found so interesting, but Edward hadn’t wanted to press you too hard on the matter, not when you’d looked so shaken up. So as he walked down the hall and slipped into the medical examiner’s office, he narrowed his eyes, immediately finding Crane sitting at counter, filled with vials in an array of colors, lab equipment organized neatly around him. Dr. Collins was gone, thankfully, allowing Edward the privacy he needed, and he stepped into the room.

Jonathan swiveled around in his chair, his mouth opening slightly as if to ask something, but he quickly shut it when he realized it was Edward standing there. His cold eyes were narrowed, stoic, not an inch of emotion written across his face.

“Crane,” Edward said, stepping further into the room.

“Ah, Edward,” Jonathan said, his voice gravelly, cold, a raspiness to it. “I was wondering when you’d honor me with your presence.”

Edward smirked, but wandered over with slow, calculated steps. “Oh, you know,” he said with a lazy wave of his hand. “The Commissioner just loves to keep me busy. I hardly get a moment to myself in this place.”

Jonathan turned back to his vials, humming under his breath. “It must pain someone with such intelligence like yourself to be reduced to working in a place like this.”

Edward shrugged, but leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, only a foot away from where Jonathan worked. “It has its perks,” he said, his thoughts straying to you. You were the only reason this place was bearable in any capacity.

Jonathan’s cold gaze slid to him once more. “Ah, yes. Your…paramour. I take it she told you about our conversation?”

A muscle feathered in Edward’s jaw, and he met Crane’s gaze. “No. But I’m here to hear it out of your own mouth, Crane. What exactly did you say to her?”

Jonathan shrugged in indifference, once more turning back to the chemicals at hand, making a few notes on a pad of paper. “I was simply curious to the nature of her relationship with you. I’ve never known you to take interest in such primal desires, Edward. What is it about her that fascinates you so?

Edward frowned. There were many, many things that fascinated him about you – the way you carried yourself, spoke, the fire that burned so brightly in your soul that refused to dim, considering all that happened over the last few months. The way you tolerated him, laughed at what he said, gave yourself to him so wholly and completely. The problem wasn’t the answer to the question – the problem was why Jonathan wanted to know.

“What does it matter to you, Crane?” Edward asked, his voice low, concerned. Because he knew when Crane became fascinated with something, fixated on it, he would not let it go.

And if he was becoming fascinated with you…

Jonathan turned back to him again. His scarred lips were pursed into a thin line, but he finally set his pen down and rested his hands on his knees, leaning slightly back in his chair. “I’m simply curious, is all, Edward.”

“She’s not some science experiment you can pick apart,” Edward said, his tone testing.

Jonathan blinked at him, as if what Edward said hadn’t phased him at all. “You care quite a bit for her, Edward,” he said finally after drawing out the silence for a long moment.

Edward shifted slightly, gritting his teeth. “And? Your point?”

“An observation. You and I both know she’s simply your newest obsession, Edward. What will happen when you tire of her?”

Edward’s eyes narrowed into slits, and he frowned, staring down at Crane as hot anger pooled in his stomach, prickling across his skin. Yes, he knew the truth: you were his obsession. The thing he needed, wanted, craved at all hours of the day. But he did not imagine he would ever tire of you. You were like a drug to him, his addiction. And the truth was that he had come to a point where he could not imagine the rest of his life without you in it.

“Or, perhaps, when she tires of you?” Jonathan continued.

“An absurd insinuation,” Edward said, a bite in his voice now. How could you ever tire of him? He was the World’s Greatest Everything. There was not a universe in which you could ever tire of him, Edward was sure of that.

“Come now, Edward,” he said. “No need to be so testy. However, I’ve heard the rumors. People around here like to talk. I know what they call her, what they think of her. When you do tire of her, when you’ve thoroughly ruined her for anyone else in this city to want – what will she do then?”

Edward bristled, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. “I don’t see why that’s any concern of yours, Crane,” he said, but his lips twisted in a smirk. “Why? Does it bother you that someone like her would be with someone like me?”

A flame ignited in Edward’s belly, a sick satisfaction twisting there. Of course Crane had to be jealous of his relationship with you. After all, Edward was just that much smarter, much more handsome, much more great. Crane could not compare to him one bit. Edward was everything and better – and he planned to hold that over the man’s head at every turn.

“Not at all,” Jonathan finally answered. “She is your paramour. You do what you like with her. All I intended was to get to know her, understand why a detective like her would with someone like you.”

Edward bristled at Jon’s words, crossing his arms tighter over his chest. “Well, Crane, my capacity for self-improvement has grown well beyond what you’re capable of. Watch and learn, and you’ll be just fine.” He smirked at that, a sense of triumph racing through his chest.

“Of course, Edward,” Jonathan said, his voice low and cold. “You are this city’s picture of reform. I will do my best to follow in your footsteps.”

Edward’s smirk grew. “Good. I need to get back to work. Have fun with your chemicals, Crane. Try not to sniff your own toxin too much.” He turned on his heels, giving Jonathan a lazy wave, and headed back down the hall with confidence in his step.

But as he walked, his steps began to slow, and uncertainty twisted in his stomach. Now that he was alone in the silence, Crane’s words began to wash over him. His mind was spinning with questions, wondering why Crane would bother talking to you in the first place – and just what else he might have said that you could be hiding from him. Well, he’d just have to keep a careful eye on Crane, then. Whatever was brewing in the man’s mind, Edward intended to find out. But if it involved you…

Edward’s hands curled into fists. Crane could find you fascinating all he liked, but he would not allow you to become an experiment in his twisted little world of fear. He refused to let that happen – and if Crane asked you one more question that was out of line, Edward would not hesitate to put Crane in his place. If Crane was planning to use his toxin on you, Edward would shove his own toxin in his mouth before he had that chance.

Oh, yes, Edward was certain of that.

Crane could have his fun in any other way that did not involve you. Because, Edward knew with absolute certainty, he would not allow another man to swoop in and take your attention from him. You were his, and his alone, and Crane would just have to accept that you were with a man like him. He could speculate and theorize all he wanted, but Edward would not allow Crane to get under your skin, to make you question your relationship with him. Not when he finally had you, when he held your heart in his hands.

And he would not allow Crane’s ability to incite fear poison your precious heart.

[jojikawa]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝘿𝙞𝙤: 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙍𝙚𝙙 𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙨

WICKED EYES

MASTERLIST

This is dark romance with descriptions of violence, gore, racism, sexism along with NSFW themes. The reader is black in this AU but this story can be enjoyed by all walks of life ❤️

Immediate warnings: mild sexual content, manipulation

Dividers ✦ word count: 4.3k art

“Out of all the women in this world, the moment you come back, you go after me.” Your eyes were dead and your voice held no sign of happiness; only resentment. The person you had been talking to was enveloped in the moonlight but their face was concealed by darkness. You only stood there, not trying to show how afraid you were being in a strange place, surrounded by strange people. It was hot and the air was unbearably dry during the day and at night, the cold was bitter and it absorbed any sort of warmth your vampire body could produce. “The reason is that I don’t want other women. It’s been so long. I thought you’d be more excited to see your beloved.” Dio, finally, took a step forward. You took a step back. “Don’t come near me.” Your eyes were glossy with tears. You hated his voice. It was just like the night he first took you. He killed people. He made you feel bad for it. He threatened to kill more people if you resisted him. You didn’t even have a chance to run from him. 

“Why not? I want to see how your beauty has come to last over 100 years.” Dio walked into the moonlight. His appearance was properly revealed to you. He looked exactly the same but…different. Your memory of the past was fuzzy but he looked slightly taller. His neck had a nasty scar as well. “You look as beautiful as you did on our wedding day.” His cold hands rose slowly. It was like he himself was unable to comprehend you in front of him. Over and over while in that coffin, he imagined you. He imagined what you felt like, what you sounded like, what would you say to him? For so long.

Dio saw you grimace as his fingertips touched your jawline. They felt up to the back of your neck where your hair was. Your hair was extremely soft and your scent was like a drug. Having your face in his palms was the same as having a drink of water in the middle of the desert. “How did you come back…?” Your hands gripped his and you removed them from your skin. Dio showed resistance; not allowing you to reject him as such. “I believe it’s best to spare you the details. The last thing I want is to make my woman cry.”

“I’m not your woman.” 

You expected Dio to show his anger and lash out but…

“In time, you will be. I don’t mind waiting for you at all.” He gave you a smile of satisfaction as he broke free from your grasp. “I’ve learned what it means to be patient, especially with you. I have a gift.” Dio backed away from you, into the darkness. Not even you could see him once he was able to erase himself.

“Enyaba, please, bring in the dress you were so kind to craft for your Goddess.” 

Dress? Another dress?

The imagery of events from long ago flooded your brain. You laid your eyes upon the dress for the first time, seeing it in its full glory. It was red. That night. Those deaths. Jonathan’s death.

Your husband emerged again. You finally remembered that you two did in fact marry. Next to him was a short old woman. Her face was aged from the sun and she held your dress with two right hands. “This is for you, Lady (y/n). Lord Dio has blessed me with the chance to bring you this offering!” The elderly woman trembled as if she were about to collapse.

“Take it.” Dio commanded. “If you’d rather not, I’ll just kill her and fetch the next seamstress to make you another.” When he examined your face, he couldn’t help but smirk. This time he would properly coerce you into being his forever wife. One that would express her love without him asking her to. Without another moment to spare, you took the dress from Enyaba. The silk and fabric were native to Egypt. The lace was intricate and thin. You could easily tell it was made for Dio’s amusement.

“Try it on.”

Your heart sank. This man only knew how to go on and on; dragging things out and pushing the boundaries.

“Enyaba, I’m afraid you’re no longer needed. No one is allowed to see the unclothed body of what’s mine.” Dio’s eyes swayed to the right before looking upward. “No one except for me, of course.” 

“Y-Yes, Lord Dio!” Enyaba scurried off, quickly making it as if she weren’t there. “Oh, and fetch the arrow for me as well!” Dio called out to the woman who seemed to be long gone. “I’d like to use it.” He then narrowed his eyes at you with a smirk plastered across his face.

While young, Dio may not have been the best gentleman but he had patience and respect for the girl he crushed on. Up until this point, he had never seen your naked body. Even while in his stolen castle 100 years ago, he respected you in that manner. Things are different now. He deserved this. “Here, let me assist you-“

“Don’t touch me.” You muttered, stepping away. Your eyes held a particular kind of fire. One he had never seen before. He was glad your spirits were beginning to rise. No matter how much you’d fight, he wouldn’t break. It would be easy to convert you once you were tired. “And why not?” Dio questioned, the corners of his lips remaining upturned. Tears began to well up in your eyes. “I know how you lived.”

“Oh?”

“When Jonathan…killed you…” You swallowed in between your words. Hatred for your own intelligence began to fill your body, as you made sense of the situation. “…y-your head wasn’t destroyed. I saw you fall.”

Dio hummed, taking a seat in the nearby chair. “Yes, go on. The fall was rather painful.” He leaned back, making that chair his throne.

“But you never actually died. You came back the night Erina and Jonathan left for America. Erina wrote to me about you.” As you spoke, you gained your bearings, no longer feeling nervous about the words coming out of your mouth. “That birthmark on your back. The one shaped perfectly like a Star. Only Jonathan had that. I saw it when he collapsed in my arms after he first defeated you.”

“Does it anger you? I thought you would be more excited that your love went to such great lengths to see you again.” Dio’s smirk faded. He may have had more control over his emotions now but jealousy was something that he was unable to grow from. “You’re such a monster.” You cried silently. You closed your eyes, imagining what could’ve been Jonathan’s last moments.

Jonathan died protecting me. Now, I’m alone.

“Erina…” You whispered to yourself. You clutched the dress. Any harder would’ve damaged the article of clothing.

“We won’t speak anymore of Jonathan-“

“He was my friend!”

“If you couldn’t tell, my dear. I am trying to be patient with you. The love between a married couple is like a plant. It must be nourished or it will die.”

You shook your head. “I can’t be in love with a monster. Ever since that day at the apple tree…you’ve never been the same.” Dio chuckled before resting his hand on his palm. “You mean the day you abandoned me because of lies told to you by the wench, Erina?”

You gasped. Clenching your jaw, you took a large step towards Dio. You raised your hand, ready to strike this man across his face again until he caught your wrist inches before your hand made contact. “No. Not again.” Dio took you by your wrist and pulled you towards him, into his arms. He held you on his lap, taking in your scent as it brought him great comfort. “So quick to defend the honor of someone who owned you.”

“Erina didn’t own me. She was my friend!” You pushed against his chest but he refused to let you go. “Friend?” Dio repeated. “She was your friend but she still treated you as property. That girl never lifted a finger to do anything, did she? Why is that? Because her parents employed you too.”

“Dio!” You fought against him, trying to release yourself from his grasp. Tired of your flailing, his grip grew tighter. “But in order to be employed, you’d need to be paid, correct? Tell me, how much did you make playing house as the Pendleton maid?”

When you thought about it, you never really got paid anything. You worked for the Pendleton’s to make up for them taking you and your mother off of the street. “I-I…I didn’t make anything.” More tears left your eyes.

“Not a thing?!” Dio pretended to be surprised. “My own wife lived a childhood of indentured servitude to someone who she still sees as her friend? If Erina were your friend, why didn’t she give you the last name ‘Pendleton’, Hm?” His breath was warm against the skin of your neck as he held you close. “You would’ve been a noble woman but she chose to keep you where you were.”

“Dio, stop.” You resisted once more, finally making Dio let go of your wrist. His free hand wiped the tears from your face and his smirk faded. “All I’ve ever wanted is to be the one who uplifts and shows you that you’re worth so much more than what the world gives you.”

There was really no way of escaping Dio, was there? Not like this. You wanted to love him but the fact that he has killed many and would kill many more at the drop of a hat to get what he wants. That’s truly unlovable. Yet, you needed to adapt. Perhaps, if you began to play your part, you would find a means of escape or a way of stopping him.

“I said stop, Dio.” You removed yourself from his lap. “I need you to leave so that I can…change.”

Dio folded his hands in his lap. “And why would I do that? We are married.” He then made himself comfortable again, resting his head on his other palm. “Clothes of commoners shouldn’t ever touch your skin.”

A show is what Dio wants? Fine. You’ll give him a show.

Slowly, you began to remove your garments. It was probably better to wear the new dress right away. Dio’s hungry eyes never left your body. You barely got them off before you heard his voice cut the silence like a hot knife. 

“Come.” He beckoned you to come towards him. His pupils dilated. This was truly his first time seeing you naked. He needed to contain himself. “What is it?” You covered yourself with your arms and hands. There wasn’t really much that you could cover this way. You walked toward Dio, just out of his reach. His hand snaked up the thicker part of your thigh, pulling you closer. He spun you around and began to inspect you accordingly.

You felt his fingertips roam your backside. “I see you’ve been feeding yourself well.” He teased you, kneading your plump flesh and his palms.

“Dio!” You swatted his hands away before swaying your hips out of his reach. With unnatural speed, Dio’s hands found your hips. He pulled you down onto his pelvis. “And just where do you think you’re going? I don’t remember giving you permission to leave.”

“Permission?” You repeated. It was pretty apparent that Dio was needy but the timing…was ridiculous.

“As children, I’ve never thought of something like this but even then I knew it was you I wanted. We should be able to enjoy this happy reunion.” 

Your body began to heat up from this contact. Before all of this, you did dream of what it was like to commit such acts with Dio. Even during those years you ignored him but befriended his family. The scandalous idea of having relations with a handsome man you’ve previously had a falling out with. 

That was years ago. Now, you didn’t know how to feel. The body he was trying to seduce you with wasn’t his…

“We can’t. Not now. This is wrong.” You practically leap out of Dio's grasp. “Your body isn’t-“

“IT'S MINE NOW!” Dio shouted, visibly startling you. His face held a strong look of disapproval as he tried hiding it in the shadow. He was still one to lash out.

You swallowed before firming your voice. There was no way you would let him intimidate you. “Not. Now.” You stepped into the dress. It hugged your curves and felt much more comfortable than your previous attire. You’d never admit that.

“Fine. I will allow you to adjust. But a good woman knows not to reject her husband’s advances.” Dio rose from his chair. He could hear Enyaba’s footsteps approaching.

“Then I’m not a good woman.”

A second of silence passed before Dio let out a deep and velvety laugh. “So amusing. You’re only making me more eager to claim you as my own.” 

“I-I’ve returned, Lord Dio.” The elderly woman, out of breath yet again, entered the room with a particular-looking arrow. She had a bow as well. “Good job, Enyaba. I knew I could always count on you.” Dio took the items from her. “You may go.”

“What is that?” You eyed the arrow from a distance. It gave you goosebumps. The unpleasant kind. “Oh, this? A gift.” Dio smirked to himself, readying the arrow accordingly. You hadn’t noticed what he was doing at first. You tried to get the dress to fit better. It was rather tight. It was too late when you noticed that he was aiming it at-

“(y/n).”

You.

A searing pain of intense heat filled your body, the source of it being your heart. Dio let the arrow flew from it’s bow. You were in so much shock that you couldn’t scream. You fumbled over your words and lost the ability to stand. “D-Dio, h-how could y…”

You fell to your knees. Your body was numbing. This arrow wasn’t normal! 

“She’s not ready, Lord Dio!!” Enyaba screamed. “Th-The arrow will kill her!”

“The arrow can’t kill her.” He muttered lowly. “It’s painful but I know she can take it. She will live…she must.” He then slowly strode over to you, knelt down and consoled you as you fought for your life on the ground. The means were extreme but he vowed to himself that by the end of this you would be just like him.

You ended up passing out from the pain. The power of the arrow was still new to Dio. A puzzled look washed over his face when you stopped moving. The first thing he did was lift your torso before pressing his ear to your chest. 

Thump!

Thump!

You were still alive.

Dio smirked deeply and picked you up bridal style. “Enyaba, I’ll be off now.” 

The vampire man took you to his chamber, getting dressed for the occasion. He had a special outfit made. It was something he had been waiting a few days for. While spending time at the bottom of the sea, one of the things Dio regretted was not being fashionable for his role as a God. It was such a short time, he didn’t have any means of preparing for such a role. Now, he did. He had all the time in the world. 

The yellow fabric, the heart-shaped knee pads, the golden-colored shoes with curved tips. It was perfect for him. Dio barely got it on before he noticed you twitching. That meant you were beginning to wake up. It was clear that stress wasn’t your thing. You passed out from the pain of the mask as well.

“D-Dio…?” Your voice was small but he heard you well. You sat up, taking in the scenery around you. The moon was still as bright as ever. The room was lit well with candles too. 

“Yes, my love?”

“Why did you…shoot me? What did you do to me? What happened?” You hissed, not able to control the way you balled up your fists. “A gave you a gift. Something you’d cherish forever.” Dio turned to face you. He had a sickly smile on his face that reached his eyes. This made you upset. “What is it?” You questioned, unknowingly giving Dio joy with your feistiness. 

A humanoid figure emerged from Dio. It had a color scheme that aligned with his clothes, but it didn’t look like him at all. It had a familiar aura as well.

Dio examined your face. “Hm. So you can see it now.” 

The being floated over to you, touching you as if it were Dio himself. It seemed rather…interested in you.

“You have one of these too, you see? You must wield its power.” The stand held your shoulders, making talking motions except only Dio’s voice was coming out.

He told you everything he knew about stands, even teaching you how to manifest your own. This felt very different from the first time you spent with Dio. Yes, he still forced his own Will onto you, as he did before. It hurt. It was painful but…not enough for you to cry. Even in shock, you didn’t feel too afraid. Stands were like magic, somehow. You couldn’t understand and even with Dio’s further explanation, you didn’t know how Stands came to be. 

“When Enyaba came to me, she explained to me that if I trained my own Stand, The World, then I would be able to become God of this world.” Dio paced back and forth before eventually going to the balcony. “All that’s left is to put a baby in your belly. It would certainly secure my legacy.” Dio chuckled deeply. You raised your hand to your stomach and pressed on it softly. How far would you need to go with Dio to please him? To protect those who didn’t stand a chance against a vampire? A vampire who now had some humanoid creature that could touch you without you seeing it or even having one of your own? You’ve had enough experience with men but Dio has always been a wild card in every part of your life.

“Why a baby? What legacy? What is it that you plan to do?” You asked your questions, shifting your tone so that Dio could feel more at ease with you. You followed him out to the balcony. “Is this your way of asking to start a family…?” You barely got to finish your sentence when Dio let out a hardy laugh. Once that probably could be heard throughout Cairo. 

“‘Start a family?’” He repeated. “I guess that’s one way to put it. “I was thinking more of wanting to…destroy the last of the Joestar bloodline.”

Your eyes widened. “Wh-What?” You stepped away but Dio grabbed your lingering hand. You were still having whiplash from the different revelations. Dio was alive as a severed head on the body of a friend, you were given a stand, Dio wanted a child and now he wants to destroy what remains of Jonathan’s legacy.

“Why? They haven’t done anything to you. Don’t tell me you hate your brother-“ You stopped when Dio’s grip tightened on you. 

“He isn’t my brother,” Dio growled at you and showed his sharp teeth. But you’ve known him long enough.

“He is your brother.”

Dio’s eyes narrowed at you before he closed them. His forehead softened before he decided to open his eyes again. He gave you a soft smile. One to put you at ease. He may not have been smart for revealing his plans so soon. Now, it would surely be hard to get you to cooperate.

“Perhaps, he is. I did have my issues with him. I couldn’t stand the way he looked at you.” Dio was gentle when he pulled you close. He nuzzled into the flesh of your neck, taking in the scent of your body again. “I wanted to believe it was my imagination.”

You scoffed. “You’re still on about that?” 

Dio just ignored your statement. “But, Jonathan is no more and here I stand. He was kind to you and he’s been kind once more by allowing us to be together. Like this.” You felt his body relax into yours, almost dropping his dead weight onto you. He was very big and heavy. “I’ve always wondered what our kids would look like. Would you really be one to deprive me of that?”

“If I consent to this then I want you to leave the Joestars alone.”  

The room held a brief moment of silence. You know Dio didn’t like being told what to do by anyone. You knew this and you couldn’t even see the face of twisted anger he was making as he held you. “Is that all?” Dio asked in a smooth tone, his voice not at all matching his visage. He rubbed your back tenderly. 

“Y-Yes?”

“Good.”

Dio swept you off of your feet, bringing you to his bed in an instant. It took everything out of him to just not crawl on top of you and ravage right then and there. This is something that’s been on his mind for years on end. Did you stay a virgin the whole time he was away? No. That’s not something he wanted to think of right now. All that mattered was that you were here now, giving it to him.

Now, should he remove his clothes or keep them on?

“U-Um, Dio…”

Oh, he’ll just remove his shirt. He wants to feel your hands on his body as you cling to him.

“…we’ve never…actually done this.” You felt the pit of anxiety growing in your tummy. Being intimate…with Dio. The man was already able to tell you had such little experience. That’s okay. You didn’t need any. If anything, he preferred that you didn’t know how to do a thing. There was nothing more pure or innocent than that.

Dio topped you, slipping his hand up your dress to part your thighs. He closed the distance and placed kisses everywhere on your face but your lips. His mouth latched onto the supple flesh of your neck. You could feel the way his teeth played at your skin, nipping it and drawing blood from you. You eased into his touch, beginning to relax your body just a bit. The butterflies in your stomach became present as your face began to heat up. He was surprisingly…gentle. Even with the hickeys he left on your skin, they didn’t hurt. It tickled, almost. 

Suddenly, removed himself from your neck. You instinctively raised your hand to the marks he created. No piece of clothing in Egypt would be able to hide it due to where it was. He wanted people to know. Dio pulled you forward by your thighs, almost startling you at his eagerness. You mewled at his fingers rubbing between your folds.

“I’ve barely touched you and it seems that you already have trouble keeping quiet.” Dio chuckled darkly before inserting one of his clawed fingers into your cunt. “You’ve never been with a man like this before, have you?” A wide grin covered his face.

You grunted softly. You held a lewd expression; one that Dio would revel in for a lifetime. “Your face says it all.” Dio extracted his finger. If you acted like this from only one, he can only imagine how you’d be with all of his length inside. He spread your legs even more. He lowered his head down into your crouch. You felt his tongue fill your hole. His lips sucked on your folds, consuming the juices that would flow out. 

Your core began to heat up. You didn’t believe Dio was capable of such things. “Dio, please.” You cried, trying your best to move your legs but they didn’t budge. Your husband’s grip on your thighs was too strong. 

“Please, what?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Don’t make me beg.” You clenched your jaw at his contact. “Oh, I will make you beg.” Dio replied. “Tell me that you want me.”

Then you felt something…something else. He took out his cock, pressing its leaking tip into your sleek folds. He wouldn’t enter until you worshiped him the way he’s always desired.

“Go on. Say it.”

“Dio-“

“Lord Dio.”

Dio secured his hand around your throat. His fingertips pressed against your skin, his claws tangled in your hair. There was no way you’d get away from him. If you were a human still, he’d be able to end your life before you could even understand what was happening. He appreciated that.

You blushed, averting your eyes before giving him what he wanted yet again. “L-Lord Dio.”

Good.

“And this is why you’re perfect for me.” 

Dio didn’t waste any more time waiting. He pushed into you, filling you with all of his length, going in with ease. Without warning, he began his strokes. “Much tighter than I imagined.” He just watched in self-satisfaction as you bucked your hips and moaned those pretty sounds. He enjoyed the feeling of you finally submitting, even if it were for the sake of the Joestars. A win is a win.

And it felt good.

It was such a pity that he would need to lie to you from now on, but once the Joestar bloodline was completely erased, white lies wouldn’t matter.

Dio bred you well, fucking his cum into you once he was fully satisfied with your activities. He would make sure you carried any children you’d ever have. He silenced your soft moans with a sweet kiss. Not only are you his wife and soon-to-be mother of his children, but he also wants to make you just like him. You would be an expert at seduction, enacting violence whenever you please, and become a being of lust that he could use whenever he pleased. You would become his idea of what it meant to be the red goddess.

taglist: @z3r0art ♡

[sugawhaaa]

💕Thinking of O.de as your Boyfriend 💕

💍Fluff head canons💍

Ode's love language has got to be acts of service and words of affirmation

He'd be your personal snuggle bug

His hair is just so fluffy so you'd often pet his head while he rests his head on your thighs

For a first date he would 100% take you on a picnic date. In a nice open grass field with a pink blanket to sit on

As for a birthday present one year he'd get you a ring! It'd be silver with a little blue gem inserted in the middle of it.

Another gift I could totally see him getting for you is matching onesies (😭)

Ode would probably get a fox one and get you a unicorn one or something cute like that

He would daydream about you all the time, like bro would be head over heels for you

Ode would use words like baby, my love, dear, to talk about or to you

He wouldn't mind rambling about you to his members all the time sjsjs

He would share everything to you, his day, his interests, books he's reading, shows he's watching, everything

I feel like little tickle fights would be a common occurrence in your relationship

If you two went anywhere together his hand would be locked around yours the entire time

He's the type of boyfriend that would let you do his makeup and dress him up

~Scenario~

Your hands played with Ode's fluffy, soft hair as he rested his head on your thighs. He was watching one of his recent fav shows one evening with you. Most of the members had gone to their rooms or went to bed so you two had the living room to yourselves. Seungmin started slowly blink as you continued to gently play with his hair. Then he set his arm down, still holding his phone, and closed his eyes. He hummed in satisfaction at the feeling of your fingers roaming around his hair. You watched as his body relaxed on the couch, and his breath slowed. Then all life was lost in his body (he's not dead lmao) and he started to breathe louder. By the way he wasn't moving or reacting to anything you were doing. You assumed he was asleep. You chuckled lightly and let his rest atop of you.

🍇Spice head canons🍇

I think Ode would be a very interesting character in bed

He could be either a bottom or a top and it'd be your choice to decide which one he'd be

I think Seungmin would be a pretty rough and slightly rude dom (if you want him to be ofc) but he wouldn't go too far with it still

Lot's of teasing

He would memorize exactly what you like, where you like it and so on

When being a bottom I think he'd be generally quiet but he'd whimper a lot! It'd be quiet but frequent

He would get flustered about how good you can make him feel

I think Seungmin would like lingerie, he would like to watch you ride his thigh (or smth lol) while wearing it

He would be a mischievous little top though, he would know exactly what you want but he would make you use your words for it

And just as you finally get the confidence to say what you want out loud he'd give it to you making you wail his name

I think he'd be into toys, not many though. He'd pick one he really likes (like a vibrator) and use it on you a lot and experiment with it

When he's horny he would need assistance NOW he has no patience sexually speaking

So that means you often find yourself having sex with him like anywhere

He would love blowjobs…just hear me out

I could honestly see Ode being a bit of a choker

~Scenario~

Ode quietly approached you as you were doing some drawing at your desk, he called out your name and you turned to him.

"Yes Ode?" You said sweetly looking up at him making his cheeks heat up.

"I want you," he said bluntly, making you look at him dumbfounded. You giggled a bit and told him to wait on the bed for you. You went to the bathroom and got your red lace lingerie set and put it on to surprise him. You swiftly went back into Ode's room and as soon as you walked in his eyes started analyzing your body. You walked over to him and he pulled you by your hips to sit on his thigh.

"I thought I was the needy one?" He said lowly, whispering in your ear. You looked at him confused

"W-What do you mean?" You blushed already knowing exactly what he meant.

"Your already so wet,"

♥️Aftercare head canons ♥️

He turns into a softie of course

He'd ask you if you enjoyed it and if you'd like a bath

If you said yes he would prepare everything, putting in some bubble bath, candles, some nice music

Once you make your way into the warm bath Seungmin would happily join you

Usually you'd choose to bath because if you two just went to bed he'd fall asleep instantly, he always seems to fall asleep really fast afterwards

Thank you for reading!!!♡

A/N: Jungsu's version is already in the making and I have some starter ideas for Jooyeon so I'm so close to wrapping this series up!!!

[dripsoupp]

In honor of ao3 being down 🫡 i give yall…

CHAPTER 1 of God’s Plan (1.7k words)

main pairing: Lloyd/Javier

tags: time travel, mlm, minor original characters, dual pov

Back in time

All was going as planned. Developments were swiftly underway and some new cargo was set to arrive in a few days. Lloyd couldn’t help but grin himself silly. Things were finally looking up, looking stable. About damn time! A hum escaped his mouth, satisfaction plastered on his face.

He shouldn’t get too comfortable though if his past life was of any remembrance and indication. It’s at times like these where he should work himself to the bone. To ensure his future. His life. His wealth.

This was no time to slack off. Lloyd was ready. Ready for whatever life had to throw at him. He would face it head-on.

He and Javier were entering the manor when a sudden alert came through. He was used to randomly seeing them but this one was different. Instead of its usual blue or red color, it was purple.

Ding!

[You have been selected to carry out three major ‘canon event’ tasks. Denial of participation costs 179 RP points but a successful completion rewards you x100 your current points. Would you like to participate?]

“What’s this? So suddenly?” Lloyd muttered under his breath. No, the system had always been random. He was used to expecting the unexpected. He glanced over his current RP points and laughed. He had exactly 179 points. If he were to reject the offer he would be left with zero but if he were to accept and complete it…179 multiplied by 100 would be, what, 179000 points? Whoa. He’d be able to do so much with that amount.

Still, he needed to make the best decision. He didn’t have much and couldn’t risk it all for some PR points. Or could he?

“Can’t I at least know what the three tasks are?” Lloyd asked curiously.

Ding!

[Nope! Haha.]

He frowned, “Tsk, I should’ve known…”

“Master Lloyd, is everything alright?” Javier, who was holding the door open, asked. Mild concern was painted over his striking features. Though if anyone else saw his knight, they wouldn’t know any better. He and Javier had been around each other so much so that he could, without fault, read him like the back of his hand.

He didn’t want to explain himself so he shrugged, “Yup, let's get going. Dinner’s getting cold.” Lloyd prompted himself to decide after eating. A full stomach made for better decisions, no? That’s what he said but a voice in the back of his head kept nagging at him. He took in a deep breath and opened the message box again, forcefully pressing ‘Accept’.

Ding!

[Talk about having no self-control! (Laughs) – Anyway, your side quest journey has begun!]

This was it! Lloyd continued walking as the messages kept popping up. The waning light of the sun fully disappeared as he entered the manor. The door shut with a force behind him.

Ding!

[RP System is being updated. You can now earn RP points by correctly following the given steps. Failure to do so will result in ‘???’]

Lloyd nodded, urging the system to continue.

Ding!

[Current RP Total: 179]

That was the last message he saw standing up.

Lloyd’s surroundings turned blurry as he fell to the ground with a heavy thud. Both his arms and legs turned to jelly, heavy almost. His vision tunneled and his eyes threatened to close shut on him. Shit! He shouldn’t have trusted that fucking system!

His breaths came out ragged, Lloyd didn’t know when it had become nearly impossible to breathe. Shit shit shit! Speaking took extra strength, and his voice threatened to crack but he forced words to come out, “Javier...” His whisper went unheard as his bodyguard also crashed next to him. Or at least it sounded like he did. Lloyd couldn’t even crack his neck to the side to reassure himself.

If his knight had spoken back to him, he didn’t hear. He could barely hear his own heart throbbing in his chest. Unconsciousness took over his body as a terrible headache throbbed its way into his head. ‘Is this how I die? No way.’

One final notice came through before he passed out. Barely audible.

Ding!

[Good luck Lloyd. You’ll need it.]

Lloyd was ready for whatever life had to throw at him, right?!

Lloyd awoke in his bed with a jolt, his bedroom looking the same, nothing out of the ordinary. Birds chirped outside as the sun shone through his window.

Had everything been a realistic dream? His throat was a bit dry but aside from that he patted himself down, and he felt pretty damn alive. In fact– he felt light. Too light actually…

He instinctively called out for Javier. His voice sounded foreign to his ears but that wasn’t what concerned him the most. His knight, his most trusted person, was nowhere in sight.

Whatever, maybe he was taking a shit or something. Lloyd shook his head, he wasn’t some baby that needed his knight after a stupid nightmare. He wasn’t…

He leaned back into his pillows but something still didn’t sit well with him. Lloyd’s eyes widened as he finally felt it. His chest wasn’t heavy. It was very very light.

Always, his summons would sleep right on top of his chest. Always. Ppodong had started that trend and the rest of the summons followed suit. Lloyd gritted his teeth the first few times they did so but quickly accepted his fate. His user manual said to ‘treat them with kindness’ anyway.

“Guys? Are you playing hide and seek?” Lloyd began patting around the bed and finally looked down at his hands and began chuckling nervously. “Did I shrink overnight or something? Haha, this must be a joke.” His hands seemed to belong to those of a kid. A small fucking kid.

Something was wrong.

He rushed to the nearest mirror he could find and gasped. Staring right back at him was the ugliest fucking kid he had ever seen. “My god…” Okay, maybe the kid wasn’t the ugly one, but the facial expression he was making made him pretty fucking horrid.

He pinched at his cheeks, full of baby fat, and groaned at the pain. He wasn’t dreaming, this was the real deal. Lloyd’s mind ran. It began filling to the brim with theories.

The system's final words rang in his head, ‘Good luck Lloyd. You’ll need it.’

“By ‘good luck’, is this what you meant?!” Lloyd nearly pulled his hair out as he screamed, “GAH! DAMN YOU SYSTEM!”

The family’s physician burst through his bedroom door at his screams. Lloyd nearly gave himself whiplash as he turned to face him. The physician also looked younger, his hair still brown with only a few grays. A white coat hung from his shoulders and a smile bloomed over his stressed-ridden face. What was his name again? Damn, Lloyd couldn’t remember for the life of him.

“I thought my ears were deceiving me! Young Master Lloyd, you’re finally awake! I’ll be right back with the baron and baroness so get back in bed!”

And with that the physician left, leaving Lloyd to his thoughts again. Seriously, what was his name?!

“Did he say ‘Finally awake’?! Where is Javier?! Just what the hell is going on?! Hey stupid system! Mind filling me in?!” He dragged himself back to his bed and lay there.

Ding!

[You have been sent back in time to complete three major ‘canon event’ tasks for the recompense of 179000 RP points. Complete all tasks to successfully return to the present!]

“WHAT?!” Lloyd fell out of his bed, just what the hell had he gotten himself into?!

He took in a deep breath and analyzed the situation. Ignoring the whole 'time travel' thing, all he had to do was complete three easy tasks. Right. No biggie. “Alright! I have no time to waste. Let’s see, how hard can these tasks be…?”

Ding!

[First canon event: Destroy Javier’s precious wooden sword and maniacally laugh in his face!]

He dragged his hands down his face, “Shit.”

Lloyd didn’t even have enough time to process what his parents started saying once they frantically entered the room. Even as they hugged him tight, all he could think of was Javier. Javier, Javier, and Javier.

Were the three ‘canon events’ just Lloyd tormenting Javier three separate times? His chest tightened at that thought. Hopefully, he was wrong.

His parents left once they saw his complexion better. They were busy during this time of the year and Lloyd was thankful for that. He needed time to process, plan, and execute.

But this damn physician wouldn’t leave him alone.

“You heard what they said, right Young Master?” The physician asked for the millionth time. Lloyd couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “Yes, I heard them loud and clear.”

Little kids are stupid. The Original Lloyd surely would’ve drowned if it wasn’t for Javier’s rescue. What made a little kid who couldn’t even swim jump into a large body of water? Delusion maybe?

The physician still looked somewhat skeptical and Lloyd huffed, “I promise I won’t go anywhere near water.” Lloyd reassured. Even though he wasn’t the idiot who couldn’t swim, he still swallowed his non-existent pride and made empty promises.

"And?" The physician raised an eyebrow.

Lloyd sighed in a defeated tone, "And I'll thank Javier." It was the least he could do for the physician as he had nurtured him back to health.

The physician hummed, “Good.” He turned his back to Lloyd and began packing his medical stuff.

Fucking finally!

Ding!

[Good boy!]

Lloyd whispered, “Oh shut up.”

It was all the damn system's fault for not explaining things properly.

Ding!

[I just wanted to remind you that there’s a time limit on this task but, (sigh), it seems as if you want me to ‘shut up’.]

“I apologize. Please continue.”

Ding!

[Every task has a time limit. This one has a 48-hour limit. You were asleep for 28 hours. Do the math.]

48 minus 28 was 20. In other words, he had less than a day…

Lloyd swatted at the blue floating square in front of him. “Why didn’t you tell me beforehand?!”

Ding!

[I tried to but you were asleep!]

As if that were a good enough reason. First things first, he needed to find Javier. To make sure his stupid face was okay. Then his wooden sword and then– and then…

The door to his room slightly opened and someone peeked through. The action was done very discreetly but Lloyd still caught it. He dryly swallowed. Never mind, there was no need to look for the boy. It seemed as if Javier had come to him.

[hayscodings]

how do you think the actions from 3x06 affect lana? i dont rlly remember much but the best person to ask felt like you.

This is an excellent question. I started a google doc not too long ago to jot down my observations on every Svetlana scene and only got as far as her first three episodes, so I've given this some thought. I actually hadn't watched the scene in 3x06 since I first picked up the show, as I always skip it, but I needed to rewatch it in order to draw conclusions about how it affected Svet and, while I was doing so, I noticed some interesting things.

First, I think it's curious that all it took to get Svetlana to the Milkovich house was a call from Terry saying "It's Terry. Send the Russian." As far as we know, the girls at the spa did not make house calls. Which begs the question, why did Terry have the power to have her sent over with just five words?

Second, how exactly did Svetlana get to the Milkovich house? As far as we know, she never owned a car. She also couldn't have taken the L because she shows up without a purse. Is the spa walking distance or did someone drive her over? If so, who? Why would the people running the spa cater to Terry in this way?

Third, it is very odd to me that Svetlana shows up without anything on her person— no jacket, no purse, no wallet, nothing. She's not even wearing clothes with pockets where she could be carrying any personal belongings. Terry makes one quick phone call and there she is at his doorstep a few minutes later, heavily made-up in a short dress and very high heels. There's a metaphor to be made here about her not being her own person.

Which brings me to another point: Terry never calls Svetlana by her name. He frequents the spa enough to be able to summon Svetlana by just stating who he is over the phone, and he's been a client of Svetlana's before, yet he refers to her as "the Russian" on the phone and addresses her as "сука" (which means "bitch" in Russian) to her face. This could mean one of two things: (1) he either never bothered to learn her name; or (2) he knows her name but actively chooses not to call her by it. Both are equally dehumanizing in different ways.

Which leads me to wonder...what exactly was the dynamic between Svetlana and Terry like? We know he solicited her services (presumably) more than once, which suggests some sort of satisfaction with them, but we also know that he didn't believe that she was worth more than "a couple of bucks". As I mentioned before, he also never calls Svetlana by name, and at no point do we see him act particularly warmly towards her. Yet he specifically requests her when he calls the spa...why is that?

Perhaps the most interesting observation I made while rewatching this scene though, is that Svetlana never utters a word in it. Not to greet Terry at the door, not to ask him what she was called over for— nothing. There are no pleasantries exchanged between them. She doesn't so much as nod when he gives her his orders. This suggests that she knows how he works, knows that he doesn't consider her anything more than just some hand-whore, and I don't think it's a stretch to assume that she is probably scared of him. Everything about the way that Terry approaches the situation indicates that he does not view Svetlana as a person, but rather as a commodity— to use, to exploit, to rent as he pleases. And Svetlana acts accordingly.

From the moment she walks into that house she looks completely dead-eyed. The only time she looks anything other than 100% emotionally checked out is when she's looking between Ian and Mickey, taking stock of their injuries and piecing together the severity of the situation that she has just been dragged into. She knows Terry is responsible for what's happening, she can see that he has a gun, and she knows better than to protest or try and leave. The most accurate word I can think of to describe the way that she approaches the situation is: clinically. She looks completely detached.

Now, I know that deleted scenes aren't canon but I want to bring up the deleted scene where Ian goes to visit Svetlana at the spa for just a moment. In the scene, Svetlana tells Ian, "Your face looks familiar." She recognizes him enough to know that she's seen his face before, but she can't place why or from where. And while this might seem impossible given how horrifying that entire situation was, or even odd given that she clearly took note of Ian in that scene, it actually makes a lot of sense and clues us into how Svetlana coped with the situation: by suppressing it.

Back when the show was airing, Isidora said in an interview, "At the end up the day she is a victim of that event as well, and is traumatized in her own way." I think a lot of people assume that Svetlana wasn't affected by the situation because she never says or does anything to indicate that she was, but that's the thing— she never acknowledges it at all. Just like she tries not to acknowledge her father's abuse, doesn't stand up for herself when Kev refers to her having sex with Yvon as 'cheating' (he was threatening her— it wasn't consensual), and doesn't let is show that Kev and V pushing her around is actually getting to her until she finally reaches her breaking point and can no longer hold it in.

Svetlana copes by pretending that her trauma doesn't exist. She suppresses it, she ignores it, she compartmentalizes. And when someone brings it up, she either brushes it aside or attempts to downplay it. When Kev asks her if her father ever sexually abused her, she gets up and walks away. Then in a following scene she casually confirms that he did, as if it's no big deal.

She doesn't make a big deal of her trauma because she so badly needs it not be. Calling a spade a spade would mean actually having to face what she's been through, and she doesn't want to do that. It's easier for her to claim that her father "had good qualities too", and to respond to other people acknowledging the abuse that he subjected her to by correcting them on meaningless details ("it was three-hundred dollars", "it was potato sack"), than it is for her to confront the truth. Because deep down she knows that, if she does, she is not going to be okay. And she needs to be okay.

She needs to be okay because she is poor and she is undocumented and she has a child to take care of. She needs to be okay because she can't afford to not be. Because, if she's not, then where does she go from there? How does she manage to get up every morning? What happened in 3x06 was awful, but people need to keep in mind that that day was not so out of the ordinary for Svetlana. She was sold into sexual slavery when she was just ten years old, was being abused by her father before that, was married to an abusive man who used her for sex sometime during her teens, and probably dealt with her fair share of violent clients at the spa. She's been raped many times over.

It's hard to say, in so many words, how all of this has affected her, because, the truth is, I think there is precious little about Svetlana's personality, and everything that she does, that isn't a direct result of her trauma. Her hyper self-reliance, her inability to ask for help or lean on other people, the way that she grounds all of her decisions on practical bases forsaking any potential hurt feelings, the difficulty she has comprehending others peoples' emotional appeals, her need for security and some semblance of a functioning family, her willingness to forgive any wrong, the way that she accepts mistreatment from people she cares about, and, most notably, the way that she lives her life in survival mode even when she no longer has to. All of these things can be tied to her trauma.

It's easy to look at Svetlana, see how mature and responsible and put-together she is, and assume that she is okay. But, in actuality, all of the things that paint the picture of her being okay are indicators that she is very much not. It just so happens that the manner in which she chooses to cope presents itself in a way that makes her seem extremely high-functioning. But just because she isn't turning to a bottle to get through the day, or going on benders, doesn't mean that she isn't hurting. She is. And what's sad is that the fact that her suffering is so subtle and quiet actually works against her, because nobody ever sees her pain. They just assume that she's fine.

So if she's not asking for help or sympathy, and no one is offering her any, well...

[user-needs-new-hyperfixation]

Would it be too strange of a request to request you specifically (yes you, hyper, not an x reader) and Sherlock?

I'm thinking you go in for violin lessons, and he's either being extremely pleasant or extremely feral for reasons that you're soon to find out?

(It can be an X reader in all honesty, but I'm very specifically wanting to mess with you and see what happens hehe <3)

Lmao welllllll...I don't know if this exactly counts because it could just be a first person OC but...this is kinda the best I could come up with considering self-insert is so very distinctly not my thing 😅😅 (Also did I say 50-100 words? Apparently I meant 300-500 words lololol)

(Set pre-canon, and for these purposes "I" live in Victorian times too hahah. And this is not self-shippy. it is very platonic. I have my limits 😅)

The second the door to the flat swings open I understand why the landlady had wincingly apologized as she led me up the stairs. The sitting room is, to put it kindly, a disaster. There is a strange chemical tang in the air to complement the mess. I glance back across the hall into the landlady’s mirroring flat and she rather pointedly dodges my gaze. When I’d contacted her about the ad in the paper, she’d agreed to play chaperone by keeping her door open: it might not be enough for some, but as an old maid of independent means, I find myself in the rare and enviable position of not needing to give a damn. I’d expressed as much to her, and she’d giggled charmingly and nodded her understanding.

The man I’ve come to meet is far younger than I’d expected, and exponentially odder. He emerges from behind a haphazard stack of books and bric-a-brac like a gopher from a hole, his hair escaping from the topsy-turvy remnants of a tail and his arms covered up to the elbows in thick leather gloves. He blinks at me as if he’s suddenly discovered a stag standing in his parlour.

“I’m here about the violin lessons?”

“Ah, shite—sorry—Right just lemme’ – Not t’alarm you, but iffya see a purple rat, don’t touch it.”

“Do you…need a hand catching it?”

I can’t say I’m enthused about the idea, but I’ve dealt with enough spiders and mice singlehandedly by now to know how to set aside any jumpiness when needed.

“Erm…” The man turns and rifles through a pile of random items on the sofa, coming up triumphant with a pocket-watch in hand. “Nah. ‘s’been ten minutes. Either it’ll be dead and I can dig it up later, or it’s not as dangerous as I thought and it don’t matter all that much.”

I wonder if particularly nefarious murderers lure their victims in with pretty landladies and advertisements about violin lessons.

“Should I come back another time?”

“No, no! ‘ell, Hudson’s ‘bout to ‘ave me on the street if I don’t bring in this month’s rent. Sorry about all this.” I am relived by at least the acknowledgment of the mess. “Been organizing boxes,” he taps the side of his head as if I should know what that means, “and all this out here got a little away from me.”

The man has a poisoned rat running loose in his flat and a Stradivarius acting as a paperweight and what appears to be a letter from the queen pinned to his mantelpiece with a throwing knife. I should probably leave.

“Why don’t I help you tidy up a bit?”

I’m surprised he allows this, though he does rather hover and fuss over the order of things. In half an hour we’ve cleared the sofa and the dining table and a pathway to every door, and he claps his hands together once in satisfaction.

“Much better, thanks. Now, should me move on to the violin?”

“Yes. But I really must tell you I don’t think it’s pupils you’re in want of.”

“Oh?” He plucks at the strings of the violin idly. “What am I in want of, then?”

I huff, half laughter and half annoyance, brushing lint from my skirts.

“You, sir, are in dire want of a flatmate.”

[transamorousnetwork]

How I EASILY Met My Perfect Transgender Girlfriend

I usually write posts about extraordinary results my Transamorous Network clients get. Today, I’m writing about my results. They’re pretty freaking cool. And they show how easy it is to meet our matches, whether we’re trans or trans-attracted.

That’s right, much like Hair Club For Men founder Sy Sperling, I’m not only the founder of The Transamorous Network, I’m also a client. In other words, I practice what I preach. The same things I tell clients to do in their lives, I do in mine.

Sometimes someone will ask me “if your approach works so well, how come you’re not in a relationship?”

The answer is complicated.

I’m in the process of my own self-discovery. That’s my priority. I am exploring my own gender expression among other things. A lot of “me” is under construction therefore. Yes, I’m 100 percent exclusive about being with a transgender woman. But I wasn’t clear what specifics I wanted in a partner yet. Because I’m not clear about me.

But then, Muriel happened (I’ve changed her name and some details to protect her privacy). That’s right. She came into my life unexpectedly. And, over time, I’ve developed a fascinating attraction to her. More on that later.

What’s important now is how this happened. I didn’t do ANY of the things others do to find their partner. I didn’t go to bars. Nor did I join a dating site. She literally came to me. That’s exactly how I promise my clients their partners will show up: with no effort on their part. I just kept telling positive stories. And then Muriel showed up. 

She wasn’t the only one

I wasn’t out looking for transgender girlfriend. Still, I would regularly come across them in town. Every so often, transgender women would hit on me too. That’s because I’m open and authentic about who I am. I embrace all of me, especially my transamory. Which is why the Universe brings me trans women all the time. That tells me I have my stories right.

Over the years, several transgender women have been so bold as to call my cell. Out of the blue, I’d get a call. I love it when transgender women are bold like that. I know when they are like that, there must be something about them that resonates with who I’m being. So when that has happened, I’ve reveled in the rendezvous no matter what happens after that call.

Not every transgender woman who reaches out is my type. But instead of focusing on that, I always reveled in those who were matches. So it isn’t a surprise to me that I eventually came across someone like Muriel. Someone who is, for the moment, a perfect match to my constantly refining desire.

Chasing is the hard way guys and gals

How many of you men have tried to get a trans girl’s attention, in a bar or online, and been ignored or ghosted? I know you’ve had that experience. I’ve had it too, when I was doing what some of you do. That experience sucks. Especially when some transgender women hold preconceived notions that all of us are fetishizers out for lustful satisfaction only.

When you’re out in a bar or online somewhere, it’s not easy to weed out those kinds of transgender women from the ones you want. You want trans women who want to be with you because they appreciate who you are. That’s why I tell my clients stop doing what every other guy (or trans girl) does. Instead, do something different: let the Universe bring the girl/guy to you!

Many guys think that’s crazy talk. They think it won’t work. Even some trans girls think that way. Maybe you think that way. Not my clients though. It takes convincing at first. But in time, life shows them how easy finding love can be.

Think I’m bullshitting? How do you explain these high quality girls, both of whom reached out to me recently. Both did so on their own initiative, with me not having any idea they were out there:

^^A high quality transgender woman expressing her affection…

^^And here’s another!

These are just two of the many transgender women who have reached out to me recently. Since starting The Transamorous Network, I’ve been approached my many more, through my blog and in person. But enough of that. Now, I want to lavish thoughts about Muriel, the girl I find myself fascinatingly attracted to.

An wonderful connection

She responded to a blog post I wrote earlier this year. Muriel and I see the world similarly. So I appreciated her perspective. I sent her an admiring reply. She replied with thanks. I don’t think either one of us had romantic intentions. 

But the more I read some of her posts, including those on Facebook, the more I realized Muriel was really, really smart. I don’t remember who initiated, but we became Facebook friends. From there, getting to know one another accelerated.

Now, besides being super, wicked smart, Muriel also looks great. At least I think so. I especially like that she proudly owns being a “woman with a dick”, as she puts it, which I think is the epitome of what it means to be trans. She doesn’t try to be a cis-woman. She’s proud that she’s trans. And I love that about her. I also like that she’s close to my age. And that she recognizes me as a staunch ally of transgender women, which I am, of course!

When Muriel first sent me racy pictures, I was surprised. I didn’t ask for them, but I did welcome them. Muriel responded with more, increasingly revealing photos. Along with them, we had wonderfully intimate and revealing conversations around sexuality, gender expression, what we like to do in bed and more. I love her self-assuredness. And I’m happy she trusts me.

Muriel also is married and has a child. Her relationship is open, though, which is perfect for me because at the moment, I prefer focusing on my self development. Still, I look forward to seeing Muriel in person. In the meantime, I love who she is. And I enjoy time with her.

The Transamorous Network approach works

My life shows me in so many ways that what I show my clients works. I’m producing the same results they get on the subject of relationship. But that’s not all. I also see other parts of my life proving this stuff I share works.

I’ve said this before: The best place to meet our match is in our daily life. Not at a bar. Not online. It’s more fun too. I always ask my clients this question early on: If you had your choice, which would you prefer: Meeting your ideal match spontaneously – doing what you love – or through an online dating site or in a bar?

Every client, transgender or trans-attracted gives the same answer: it’s just more fun meeting your match in that lovely, spontaneous way. The same way the Universe will give us everything else we want. But to have those experiences, we gotta tell the right stories so we become matches to what we want.

Then we won’t have to go out looking for our partner. She (or he, or they) will come to us. In the same way my clients experience it. And now, in the same way I have.

Want your perfect match to come to you? I’m here, ready to help.

[crescent-lunatic-wolf]

I don’t know what to call myself in relation to this otherkin/therian/alterhuman stuff. It’s still kinda new and scary TERRIFYING TBH. Half the reason I created this blog was to sort this out, though, so dammit if I’m not gonna try.

Once upon a time, I was a dumb kid with an extremely overactive animation. And I mean extreme. I had an imaginary friend that I could not get to ‘go away’ until i basically had an existential crisis and screamed at him.

Sorry, old buddy, but I was starting real school and I needed to at least look normal. Im sure you understand.

This was just the first of many incidents where I felt obligated to cynically crush my more outlandish thoughts into a ball and stuff them away in a corner forever.

Then later I figured out that I’m trans. A lot of things started to make much more sense after that: why I hated puberty so much, why I felt too ‘soft at heart’ compared to other ‘boys’, why I oh-so-despised how I looked…

That was over 8 years ago.

Now, much more recently, as in within the week at time of typing this, a bunch of old thought patterns kinda cropped up at once. I am certain that this had something to do with the recent super moon, though. I don’t know if it was something I subconsciously did to myself, or if talking about werewolves just unlocked the forbidden corners of my brain or what, but the thoughts are back and hoo boy.

When I was a younger, edgier, egg-ier teen, I loved werewolves, conceptually. The very concept of wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing except its more wolf-in-human-skin was, in a word, rad. I knew it was a mythological, fantastical concept (logically speaking, I still do), but oh my god how cool would it be to be that kinda monster?! I didn’t care how alienated it’d make me (though to be fair I was already kind of a weirdo outcast). Raw meat, hunting animals or even people by the full moon? Cathartic af. That sheer power, to be able to assume the form of a terror of nature, to be one with and at home with the moonlit wood… I would kill* for that level of freedom and… and…

*PAST tense, I’m not exactly a serial killer in the making here

What is that other feeling though? It was good, I know. Almost addictive. Satisfaction? Desire of some sort?

Whatever it was, it felt right. …and that’s exactly why I had to suppress it. I was only setting myself up for heartbreak by pouring my soul into this idea of being/becoming something that, by all means, doesn’t exist.

Once upon a time, I thought I’d never be a woman, either.

So fuck that noise. This werewolf-at-heart is back. I don’t care if its an unrealistic dream/goal/whatever-the-fuck, it makes me happy, dammit! Like on some kinda spiritual level or something.

So yeah. I think that makes me alterhuman, otherkin, and/or therian? I’m not 100% on the distinctions, but I want to find out. I can at least comfort in the knowledge that, clearly, I’m not the only one who feels this way. Hopefully at least some o’ y’all can accept me into the fold.

- C

[judesmoonbeauty]

Only Look At Me CE: Nica Schwartz

*Nica is calling Kate “robin” in German. Hence, each time he uses German, I will use quotation marks to denote that going forward in the story.

** Nica is calling Kate (robin) in English for this specific line. In other words, he is using the normal (komadori).

***The translation says "opposite" of him, but context suggests Kate is sitting next to him. That's how I interpreted it anyway.

This is a fan translation only. Not 100% accurate, so please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. Dividers: @/adornedwithlight. Thank you for your support! ☾.

On my way home from submitting my report, I was stopped by an unexpected person.

Nica: Hey there, Miss.

One of the Vogel twins stood in front of me.

Kate: Is something wrong?

Nica: Actually, I got lost, would you mind showing me around?

As I nodded in surprise, his almond-shaped eyes narrowed.

Nica: Thanks. 

Kate: No problem, so where are you headed?

Nica: The chambers we’re staying in, you know the way right?

Kate: Of course, it’s this way!

I pointed down the hallway and started walking, with him chuckling as he followed from behind.

Nica: Meeting you here, seems like I’ve still got it. 

(I’m little wary because of what Harrison said.)

(He’s easy to talk and doesn’t seem like a bad person.)

Even though I know they’re lying somehow, I still don’t know if it’s a bad lie.

(It’s not good to judge someone before you know them.)

We arrived in no time as I walked and thought this.

Nica: Thank you for your help, “Robin.”*

Kate: “Robin”?

Nica: It means “Robin” in German.

Nica: Doesn’t Crown call you, robin?**

Nica: Hence, “robin”.

He sat down and looked at the empty seat opposite to him.***

Nica: Won’t you have a seat?

Kate: Huh?

Nica: Let’s have a chat while you’re here. I’d like to ask you about work and other things.

Despite my being nervous that we were alone, he propped his chin on his hand.

Nica: Besides, I’m interested in you.

Even though he was smiling, his eyes pierced me like someone who’d caught his prey.

As I slowly sat down, he smiled in satisfaction while calling a maid for some tea.

Nica: Well then, should I introduce myself again?

Kate: Oh, please do.

Nica: I’m Nica Schwartz, the staff officer of Vogel, an organization under the direct command of the Emperor of Germany. 

Kate: What exactly does a staff officer do?

Nica: I gather information, and support Dari in various ways by using my brains.

Nica: Details are a confidential.

Nica: Oh, by the way. You can call me Nica. There’s no need to call me ‘Mister’.

Kate: Okay then, Nica.

His smile deepened as I called his name, and then he pointed at me.

Nica: Right, now it’s your turn.

Kate: I’m Kate, a Fairytale Keeper. There’s several reasons why I got this job, but I used to work as a postwoman.

Nica: Hmm, then you’re well-informed about the roadways?

Kate: That’s right! We delivered all over London, so I could even guide you.

Nica: That’s great, next time I’ll ask you to show me around the city.

His words interrupted me as I reached for my teacup.

Nica: What kinds of things do you do as a Fairytale Keeper?

Kate: My job entails accompanying Crown activities and recording what happens.

(In reality, there’s a lot more to it than that…..)

I don’t want to say anymore than that because I don’t think it’s a good idea to talk in detail.

Nica: But you’re just an ordinary person aren’t you? Isn’t it dangerous?

Kate: The Crown members have promised to protect me.

Nica: Really….

He seemed to be thinking about something while listening to me speak, which made me feel a bit uncomfortable, but that feeling disappeared when his expression suddenly brightened.

Nica: You’re the verrry cute “robin” of Crown.

Nica: You’re cherished.

Kate: That’s n….

(It’s true that they treat me with respect but……)

It all started only because I witnessed them conquering evil with evil,

(I desperately didn’t want to die, which led me to where I am now.)

If I hadn’t said anything then, I might not be in this world now.

Nica: Dari probably wouldn’t like it, but it might be fun if Vogel had a Fairytale Keeper back home.

Nica: Oh, but Ring wouldn’t do well.

Kate: Wouldn’t do well?

Nica: Ring’s my twin brother, but unlike me, he’s doesn’t socialize with others too well.

(It’s true, the first time we met, he gave off a cold impression….)

While I was thinking of our first encounter, Nica looked into my face.

Nica: What, are you curious about Ring?

Kate: No, that’s not it…..

Nica: My - that’s. Don’t do that.

He put his finger to my lips, and he smiled with extreme charm. 

Then we talked about trivial everyday life, and before I knew it, the sky had turned deep red.

(It’s already that time….)

When he looked at the clock, his eyes widened in exaggeration.

Nica: Wow, it’s already this late. I guess it’s time to part ways.

Kate: Well, it’s was nice chatting with you.

Nica: Same here, let’s do it again.

I stood up, thanked him for opening the door, and was about to leave the room.

Kate: What?

He grabs a lock of my hair and places his lips upon its tips.

Nica: Until next time.

Even when my lips parted I was speechless.

Nica: Oh, did you forget your way home? 

Or do you want to stay locked up with me and not go home?

His inciting tone made me realize that I had been taken lightly.

(For Nica, this conversation was a wait-and-see thing, and if he got serious -)

-Then he could easily steal my heart.

Kate: Please, excuse me.

With my cheeks suddenly becoming hot, I started to run not caring if there were other people around.

Nica: Bis Dann (Later), “Robin”.

Before my heart is stolen by him.

As I lay on the sofa, my younger brother entered with a gaunt face.

Nica: What is it, did you get lost again?

Ring: Yeah….it’s so large that I couldn’t tell where I was.

Ring sat on a chair and sighed.

Ring: I wish I could memorize the layouts of buildings as quickly as you do Nica……

I laugh at his words.

Nica: It’s possible to get lost on “purpose.”

Tag List: @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @sh0jun @letter-from-afar

Dividers: @/natimiles [Master List]

Can't wait to tear this MF up /aff. GIMME!

[longpahern]

Going gaga over yoga

Pop icon Madonna is more than likely amongst the most popular bi-products of commercialized yoga. Women all over the world required to understand what type of diet strategy she has in fact been doing since she started to come out with that toned and rubbed figure. When she exposed that she has in fact been on her journey of self-discovery and has really found a new source of spirituality, she also exposed her technique in maintaining her almost eternal youth look-practicing yoga that is. Aside from staying fit through practicing of yoga there is a lot more about the discipline that people should comprehend. THE TRUTH ABOUT YOGA Before winding up being gaga over yoga, you should familiarize yourself at first about what yoga in fact is, its origin, the great deals of underlying homes behind the discipline and how can you gain from it. Let's start at first by defining the foreign word that is yoga. The term "yoga" can be exactly defined by another Sanskrit word "asana" the practice of physical postures or postures. "asana" is simply among the 8 acknowledged kinds of yoga, both terms are now being taken as one due to the truth that considered that both of them are stressed with mental and spiritual well being than in just exercise. And now, yoga is more commonly comprehended to people as a kind of discipline that varies from one concept to another. You must comprehend hoe to change its underlying possibilities to your own satisfaction if you are thinking of practicing yoga to boost your life. THE ULTIMATE YOGA BASICS If you are really interested with yoga, you need to be prepared to find almost whatever about it. Of all, you require to define why you need it. A few of the many different styles of yoga that being taught and practiced today include "hatha," the slow-paced and moderate style; "vinyasa," the breath-synchronized movement style; "ashtanga," the hectic and severe style of yoga practice; "iyengar," physical placing style, "kundalini," the breath in mix with physical movement style; and "bikram" or "hot yoga" which is practiced in a 95-100 degree area allowing the loosening of tight muscles and severe sweating. Aside from being a reputable stress and tension and stress and anxiety reducer, practicing of yoga is also revealed to increase strength, produce energy, establish and tone muscles, improve concentration, posture, and focus, lower hypertension, improve memory, and reduce pain. Real, you see people practicing yoga doing some sort of "acrobatic" stunts, nevertheless those extending are not just simple flexing of muscles: these are creative treatments that support the body to develop adaptability, strength and mastery. Considered that each present has a specific physical benefit, the postures in yoga can be performed in succession to produce heat in the body through movement that will build-up an increase in endurance. Before winding up being gaga over yoga, you should familiarize yourself at first about what yoga genuinely is, its origin, the great deals of underlying centers behind the discipline and how can you gain from it. You need to comprehend hoe to change its underlying possibilities to your own total fulfillment if you are thinking of practicing yoga to improve your life. Done through the performance of positions, lots of people might think that yoga is merely about extending, utmost concentration and uncommon positions. Real, you see people practicing yoga doing some sort of "acrobatic" stunts, nevertheless those extending are not just simple flexing of muscles: these are ingenious treatments that support the body to develop mastery, strength and adaptability. Since each present has a specific physical benefit, the positions in yoga can be performed in succession to produce heat in the body through movement that will build-up an increase in endurance. When she exposed that she has in fact been on her journey of self-discovery and has really found a new source of spirituality, she similarly exposed her technique in maintaining her almost water fountain of youth look-practicing yoga that is. Done through the effectiveness of positions, numerous people might think that yoga is just about extending, utmost concentration and uncommon positions. Real, you see people practicing yoga doing some sort of "acrobatic" stunts, nevertheless those extending are not merely simple flexing of muscles: these are ingenious treatments that support the body to develop flexibility, mastery and strength. Since each present has a specific physical benefit, the positions in yoga can be done in succession to produce heat in the body through movement that will build-up an increase in endurance.

https://click4information.com/lifestyle/going-gaga-over-yoga-3/

[libraryofcirclaria]

24 May 1254

Library of Circlaria

Third Level Society: First Version

Story Four: Meon Bell

Today is the last day of the month of May in the Common Circlarian Calendar. I just completed a rather simple quest with my avatar, Captain Bornan, involving The Slayvon, ten fellow Members, and each of us casting 100 daemons; so over 500 in all. We captured a rogue sea ship and took a share of the spoils after negotiating a peace treaty with the enemy. It was simple and took no time at all.

All the while, I marvel at the Third Level Society and what it has accomplished thus far since its foundation over ten years ago. Many who are Members now once in the past looked to various TableQuest sessions for fellowship as well as the dynamic array of possible opportunities to gain treasure. The playing of the old game of TableQuest presented a thrill that many simply could not find elsewhere. But TableQuest also meant encountering avatars whose identities of those real people who cast them were hidden, meaning you never really knew who you were dealing with. In other words, you very well may have tangled yourself with someone having bad intent. Darkfire dealers and other outlaws, after all, hid themselves within the darkened ranks of TableQuest players, intent on gaining wealth and credit at whatever cost.

And real wealth was placed on the table in these sessions, with such wealth being wagered upon the outcome of a given quest or agenda. Sometimes the resulting politics turned ugly, manifesting in murders, theft, rape, and other forms of evil. To enter a TableQuest session for the thrill meant risking the treachery involved.

The Third Level Society put an end to that danger by presenting a formidible alternative. With rules in place mandating a registry of avatar identity to Member identity, and policy to forbid the wager of true items of wealth, questing here presented the satisfaction without the corruption that comes with it. And with the Arturian Realm cast as a continuously-running and multi-faceted dymensional plane striving to achieve as close to a resemblence to the real world as possible without sacrificing the dynamics necessary for the satisfaction one gets through questing, the Society has been drawing attention from figures in the field of education and research.

I just hope the Third Level Society can survive Cray Fenton.

Fenton started off his tenure as Dungeonmaster by making a bold call upon the Caucus to repeal the Organizational Prefect Code of Conduct. The Caucus failed to do exactly that, but by the end of January, they did manage to repeal most of the amendments, many of which I felt were unreasonable.

That same month, Fenton unveiled his ambitious and well-planned agenda for the deployment of the Jon Beyon Consoles. January would be the month for the Caucus to formulate the plans for the funds needed to build the large number of Jon Beyon Consoles required to cover every Member by the end of the year, and also for certain Members currently taking part in the pilot experiments. 

February would be the month that we implement the fundraiser agenda. And then between March and October, we would build the Jon Beyon Consoles on a steady schedule.

November and December would be the period of transition for the Caucus in terms of the Consoles used. Jon Beyon would be expected to train the Quest Leaders and Administrators on his model in the first week of November; the Quest Leaders and Administrators train the Veteran Members in the second week; and the Veteran Members train the Freshmen Members in the third week. In the first week of December, the Freshmen Members would be made to retire the old type-out consoles and switch to the Jon Beyon Consoles for good; the second week of the month, the Veteran Members would do the same; and the third month, the Quest Leaders and Administrators would make the switch. By January 1255, every Member would have a Jon Beyon Console.

All throughout January, I was actually in high spirits, anticipating the implementation of this agenda. I witnessed Traya Meris introduce the Jon Beyon's Console model to her class of subservient Members on a particular quest she was leading along the warm Arturian Coastline near Parradin. These Members were nothing short of ecstatic over the newfound power and control they had over their avatars. I, myself, took part in getting the Caucus to vote on fundraising. Although the idea was Fenton's, I was the one to propose this fundraising idea to the Chamber on the evening of January 13. We held several special sessions through the rest of that week; and, on Friday January 15, the Caucus voted passed the fundraiser plan. Fenton quickly approved it; and the plan started at the beginning of February.

By late February, it became apparent that fundraising well-surpassed the amount needed to build Jon Beyon Consoles for the 631 Members that we counted in January.

In early March, though, we factored in the current Membership registry again and realized that number jumped up to 647, which meant that additional fundraising was needed. The other issue was that there was a backlog of orders in the business from which we ordered the metal parts needed to construct the Consoles. So Fenton put an immediate stop to everything in the Jon Beyon Project, including the pilot experiments.

"I understand if we need to delay the Console construction, but wear and tear should not be a concern with the devices we're already using," I told Fenton late one night in a meeting with him in his Dungeonmaster's Office, which I noticed was adorned more heavily with the crow-and-hawk of the Society. "Jon has proven that they are built to last."

"I'm not concerned about wear-and-tear," Fenton replied. "I'm concerned about adding fuel to Sari Frame's sentiment. If this backlog doesn't clear and we continue doing pilot groups, it will be a matter of time before an insider takes this to her and she starts building her own brand."

"The backlog will clear out soon enough," I said. "And I don't see how Sari could carry out a conspiracy like that."

I had spoken my mind when I told him that. It was true that, after Fenton accepted the Dungeonmaster nomination, Sari alleged that there was a certain number of Members who had been discouraged from casting a Caucus vote, on the presumption that they would all vote for Frame. But when no one took to this claim, and it became apparent that most had accepted that Fenton, though having won by a small margin, secured the position fairly after all, Frame had since stood down and remained silent.

Now Alex Cromme had brought up numerous times between me and Fenton that he thought he had heard some of those Members, who were friends with Sari, fantasizing over the notion of stealing the idea of Jon Beyon, who has been in league with us by the way, and developing a transition in a quicker fashion than ours. Of course, this alleged conversation took place at the Slack, where things get noisy and things are said that are never meant in serious fashion. So the matter was speculative.

Nevertheless, Fenton had been taking no chances in this regard, an approach I found a bit irrational, I have to admit. I understand that the Dungeonmaster position, with all its daunting administrative duties, can present an opportunity to withdraw into a state of sick paranoia. But one must exercise caution in that regard so that such anxiety does not manifest into a power-grab, intentional or unintentional. And I believe that by early March, Fenton was showing the first signs of this struggle. 

I will also admit that between January and now, I had largely taken a break from questing due to the combination of the tiring work I had from my administrative duties under Fenton and my own academic studies; after all, I have been pursuing a graduate study of lightfire on behalf of a program based out of the Linbrae Royal College, which agreed to establish me as a resident here at Cabotton University. So I did not keep too closely in touch with Society politics, despite working so closely with Fenton.

And I should have known better.

In the first week of April, Dungeonmaster Fenton summoned both me and Jon Beyon to his Office, where we found the Dungeonmaster joined by Alex Cromme. Indicating that Cromme told him of this, Fenton proceeded to explain that someone, though unknown in terms of identity, was using an unauthorized trigger-mechanism to enhance Jon Beyon's invention in an attempt to overthrow the fair balance that the entire Arturian Realm strives to achieve. The organization in question carrying out this corrupt agenda was known as the Shadow of Myrst.

To my shock and dismay, Fenton informed us that Traya Meris was the primary suspect.

He then gave us an assignment. Jon Beyon, who Meris saw as a close friend, was to convince Meris to share her supposed secret with him without being suspicious of him; Beyon was then to secretly report what she said back to Fenton. Meanwhile, I was to go on a broad but secret survey of as many questing Arturian entities as I could to collect information on the agenda suspected by Fenton.

The Dungeonmaster ended the meeting by saying that the Jon Beyon Project was postponed indefinitely until he could find the Member responsible and expel that Member from the Society.

Again, that was the first week of April, more specifically the evening of April 6, if I remember correctly. It was at this point that I felt that Fenton's paranoia was growing out of control. True, there was an entity known as the Shadow of Myrst, existing as a mysterious force setting out to throw off the political balance of the Realm through a winner-take-all strategy. And it reminded me of the days of the Crimson Lion a few years back. But Fenton had no rational reason to suspect Meris as a player, let alone a leader in an agenda involving trigger-spells.

In fact, this may very well have been Fenton taking an opportunity to retaliate against Meris over an event that happened in late February.

On February 23, we met on forming a micro-detailed plan to spend the funds we accrued for the month for the Jon Beyon Project. Meris had proposed a spending alternative that involved building the Consoles at a slightly slower pace but with higher quality, going against Fenton's idea of building as quickly and cheaply as possible. Fenton had been pushing that as a last-minute change to the agenda up to that point, reasoning that we needed to save funds for repair costs.

Fenton could have taken her argument into consideration, favoring the parts he favored and questioning the parts that he deemed questionable in the hopes that he and Meris would come to a consensus. Instead, he ridiculed her idea as being "a creative way to squander the Society's precious funds in meaningless ways," and going so far as to question why she would study entrepreneurship at Cabotton University if she was going to "make such reckless decisions." For context, entrepreneurship was, in fact, her academic reason for attending Cabotton University in the first place.

I had been shocked with his outburst, but remained silent out of respect for the Dungeonmaster. In contrast, Meris was honest.

"Just because you're the Dungeonmaster doesn't mean you know more about my field of study than I do," she said.

In hindsight, I admire her for taking that brave stand.

Ever since, Fenton would not speak directly with her. And every time she came up in conversation between me and him in her absence, Fenton always emphasized that he questioned her loyalty.

After the more recent meeting in early April, the one aforementioned where Fenton asked Beyon to spy on Meris, I began to reflect on my own standing in the Society and where I stood with Fenton. It was at this point that I first admitted to myself that I felt too uncomfortable to even be around Fenton, let alone work with him. Again, Beyon and Meris had been close friends. And Fenton was exploiting this to get information out of Meris while risking to have Beyon and Meris turn on each other, which I believe was not unintentional at this point.

During the second week of April, Fenton summoned me to his Office again. I had submitted a request back in January for him to appoint me as the Administrator over the Galacia Sector of the Arturian Realm, of which I had good knowledge based on past experience. Since the recent turn of politics having intervened, I had all but forgotten this request; but Fenton reminded me of it when he informed me that he could not appoint me for Caucus approval on this because of how, combined with my role in the survey I was supposed to secretly carry out against Members who might be part of the Myrst conspiracy, that would make Fenton look in his stance against that conspiracy, should my spy attempts be found out.

Fenton also informed me during this meetup that he had begun to lose trust in Jon Beyon, himself, thinking now that Beyon and Meris were joining forces against him.

"They are still close friends after all," Fenton said. "That hasn't changed a bit."

He then asked me to turn my effort away from the secret survey, to which I contributed little by the way, and instead spy on Beyon and Meris.

"I'll see what I can do," I managed to say as an acceptable response to Dungeonmaster Fenton. But at this point, I concluded silently to myself that Fenton had simply gone too far. Later that very evening, I met with Meris and Beyon, where I quite simply told them Fenton's honest sentiment. To my surprise, they both expressed how much they had been anticipating this. They called over Carly McNauten, to whom I explained everything again. Carly responded by complaining about Fenton's "overdrama" over the Ticketer Public Section, especially when it came to Fenton always blaming and harassing Sari Frame over the Myrst issue.

So the four of us spoke at length about all of this. In the end, we came to a point of discord between the notion of breaking away from the Fenton-Frame conflict and just becoming independent Quest Leaders forming some sort of an independent faction within the Society, and the notion of joining Frame to lead a resistance against Fenton. Our talk lasted until well past midnight, at which point we all decided to continue our discussion at a later time, making a mutual promise not to make any mention of our talk to the Society or the public just yet.

We met again a couple nights later and determined to implement both strategies consecutively, with the notion of forming an independent faction from the Progressivist and Traditionalist camps serving as the first plan. As a segue into this, Meris and Beyon would silently disengage from the Society while I stayed with Fenton to handle any drama regarding these two friends. By that point, with the semester's end approaching and the onset of final exams, I would take an indefinite leave, myself.

So Meris and Beyon made their temporary departure from the Society in the final week of April, to which Fenton, surprisingly, gave no notice. However, on May 1, before I implemented my own disengagement plan, I received a private message on the Ticketer from the Bookkeeper that I, along with Beyon and Meris, had been named in a conspiracy to overthrow Fenton, and that Fenton had our Memberships suspended pending trial for permanent expulsion.

Meris and Beyon met with me at my house, where we noticed that Carly was not with us. We had messaged her but received no response. Thus, remembering her intense banter toward Fenton, we began to speculate at the possible notion of Carly having actually feigned support in the name of leveraging important information. It is a theme very much present in the medieval history of Remikra, carried out on behalf of tyrants and brutal warlords in order to consolidate power, but can also be carried out on a much smaller scale, especially in the world of business; any organization, for the matter. 

Such suspicion of Carly was dashed, though, when ten days later, Carly, herself approached me and explained that her partner, Richard Brent, whom she thought she could trust, had turned out to be the suspected insider doing favors for Dungeonmaster Fenton. In the moment she informed me of this, Carly may have seen my look of distrust, and went on to assert that she had not only terminated their mutual romance, but that she had all but excommunicated him from her life, both personal and in terms of Member-to-Member diplomacy.

That encounter was one day after news broke that Meris, Beyon, and I were re-admitted into the Society, our suspensions completely lifted. It had become apparent that the majority of the Caucus was very much against Fenton's accusations; and no Bookkeeper case ever materialized. After news of this came to pass, Richard Brent confirmed what Carly said to me, and declared her as a "fellow conspirator" over the Public Section; for though the Bookkeeper denied Fenton the power to have us expelled, he was still very much under the impression that we were conspiring to drive him out. Fenton responded to this by appointing Brent to the Administrator position over Galacia.

So that is where we stand to this day. Meris, Beyon, and I have been careful to go questing separately, pursuing quests like my avatar, Captain Bornan, capturing that rogue ship as he did tonight. I was careful not to pair with either Meris or Beyon, just in case that rogue ship was powered by a Society Member loyal to Fenton and a quest success subject to the possibility of being used by Fenton to justify his theory of conspiracy.

Our plan of disengagement and faction-building is shelved for now. We are trying to ensure that stability within the Society is not threatened by any frayed paranoia coming from Fenton as a result of sudden action. But we are still talking together when we are not questing separately.

<- 09 November 1253 <- || -> 16 June 1254 ->

[anothererra]

Discovering the Pleasure of Hobbies: Exactly How Seeking Your Interests Can Enhance Your Life

""

In today's hectic globe, it's very easy to get caught up in the stress of daily life. However, making the effort to discover and participate in hobbies can provide a much-needed escape and feeling of satisfaction. Whether it's painting, gardening, food preparation, or walking, leisure activities allow us to use our creative thinking, de-stress, and locate delight in the easy enjoyments of life. By carving out time for our pastimes, we can recharge our batteries, boost our mental well-being, and cultivate a feeling of balance in our lives.Moreover, pastimes can likewise work as a kind of self-care and individual development. Taking part in tasks that we are enthusiastic about can increase our self-confidence, raise our feeling of achievement, and assist us develop new skills and interests. Whether you're an experienced pro or a complete newbie, there is constantly something new to find out and discover when it concerns leisure activities. So, why not take the plunge and dedicate a long time to seeking your interests? You never ever understand what doors it may open or what delight it may bring into your life.

Read more here https://redlawpuzzles.com/100-printable-word-find-puzzles-for-adults/