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#and then she acts like a sweet old lady and invites them in
myocsfanfictions · 1 month
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THE WRATH OF FIRE
House of the Dragon Fanfiction
MASTERLIST
Princess Ysilla Targaryen is the only daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lady Rhea Royce. The affection that she felt for her mother was strong, while her father had never been there, acting as if Ysilla was not even his. But she was. The dragon egg that had been put in her cradle hatched. An outcast of a dragon was born. A dragon with no legs. An outcast of a dragon for and an outcast of a dragon rider. Ysilla’s hair was dark but streaked with white. She was a Targaryen, and her wrath was not different from the one that burned inside the members of the House of the Dragon.
CHAPTER 1
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Runestone the seat of ancient House Royce and the Bronze Kings. Ysilla descended from two lines of kings; the Royces and the greatest of them all, the dragon lords, the Targaryens.
Runestone is the seat of ancient House Royce and the Bronze Kings. Ysilla descended from two lines of kings: the Royces and the greatest of them all, the dragon lords, the Targaryens.
Ysilla’s mother was the Lady of Runestone, and her father was Prince Daemon Targaryen, the brother of Viserys Targaryen, the King of the Seven Kingdoms. Her father was never in Runestone; Ysilla knew that he had matters to attend to in King's Landing.
"Mother," she said, running to her mother, who had just come back from her hunt.
"My sweet," her lady mother greeted her, getting down from her horse.
"My egg hatched, Mother!" Ysilla said happily, unable to stay still. A strand of her streaked black and white hair fell against her face.
Her mother seemed not to like those words as she moved so that her back was facing her daughter, tending to her horse. Ysilla was only five, but she could understand that her mother had no love for dragons. Or Targaryens.
"I have to write to Father," she insisted, hoping that her mother would turn to her. He'd want to know that my egg hatched."
"Stop wanting to please him, Ysilla." The girl lowered her eyes, fixing her gaze on her feet. "He adores King's Landing more than both of us." Ysilla felt her eyes stung with tears, and to keep herself from crying, she bit her lips hard.
"I thought that he was not coming back because of the war," Ysilla said with pain in her voice. It was because she remembered that her father was fighting on the Stepstones.
"Yes," her mother answered, "It's been three years now. But there was no war before."
That was true. Ysilla had seen her father very few times, and when her uncle, the King, invited her to King's Landing, she had little memory of him.
"It is because of my hair," Ysilla muttered. He does not love me because of my hair." She knew that she was different from other Targaryens, with their long silver hair. Ysilla did not have it. She was different, and she knew it was the reason why her father never went to Runestone for a visit. But she thought that her dragon could have changed it, that maybe her father would have loved her for that.
"Look at me," her mother said sternly, but Ysilla did not move, "Look at me, Ysilla." When her mother insisted, the girl did as she was told, hoping not to cry. "You are more than him. In your veins flows the blood of the First Men. Be proud of that as you are of your dragon."
"I am proud, Mother," Ysilla complained.
"Then stop seeking your father's approval," her mother said, standing strong. You don't need him; remember this."
Ysilla lowered her eyes again, "I will."
We remember those were House Royce's words. They were strong and full of will, as her mother was.
Ysilla didn't feel strong. She felt lonely and forgotten. Her name was Targaryen, and the blood of old Valyria flowed in her veins as much as the First Men's did. But nobody cared about her, not even her own Father.
The little lady went back to her chamber, holding her tears because she knew that she was not supposed to cry. Her mother didn't want her to shed tears for her Father. Ysilla closed the wooden door with carved runes in it, sliding down until she found herself sitting on the ground.
She wanted to be strong like her lady Mother. She wanted for her to be proud of her daughter, but she missed her Father. She wanted to talk to him. She wanted to hold him. And she knew that he wanted the same thing. He was only busy with the matters of King's Landing.
Suddenly, she heard a low noise and a little growl. Drying her tears, Ysilla walked towards the little cradle next to the fire. Her dragon was there. She thought the Maester was tending it.
"I don't think it is going to make it, my lady," Ysilla frowned when she heard the voice of the old man from behind the door. He was talking with her mother.
"And why's that?" Ysilla's mother said while the girl kept looking at the cradle. From where she was, she could only see the little black wings moving.
"The beast is deformed, my lady," Ysilla frowned, standing up from her position. What was the meaning of that? That was her dragon. After so long her dragon egg had finally hatched, it could not die.
She got closer, and there it was. He was as big as a cat, with dark scales and purple reflections, as purple as its eyes. It looked at her, his eyes fixed on her as if he was looking inside her soul. It was beautiful.
The little hatchling made a sound before trying to get closer. At that point, she noticed. It was struggling to do so because it was born without legs.
"We have to find a way to tell her it won't survive."
Ysilla's eyes remained fixed on the little dragon. No one believed he could survive because he was different, only because he was like her.
After a moment, the hatchlings found a way to get closer, moving more like a snake than a dragon, but he was fighting.
"You will survive," she promised, reaching out so that her fingers could brush his scales. "I'll make sure of that."
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prophecyofwinter · 24 days
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Se Hāedar Qilōni Iprattan Se Jēdar | I
Aemond Targaryen x Reader
Summary | Saera Targaryen daughter of Jaehaerys I ran away from Westeros to escape her fate. 45 years later her daughter Y/N Targaryen, with invitation from King Viserys wishes to go back.
Tags | TargCest, Smut, Standard ASOIAF content, I wanted to write something raunchy with plot, Aemond and Reader are First Cousins Once Removed.
Prologue
Chapter I | The Rest and More
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With lots of persuasion from you and lady-lessons from your mother, she deemed you fit enough to sail to King's Landing. However she would not send you alone, she entrusted your safety to your slightly elder brother Vaegon.
He had trained for years in the Temple of Light to become a swordsman, and a fine swordsman he was. Brother or not he really did piss you off most of the time, now more than ever. Once he learned of your impending betrothal to the Targaryen Prince he soured up more than normal. He berated your Mother for days on how she could ever allow this.
He would of course still be a bastard even if you were legitimate, this was only so you could marry Aemond.
“What if he is ghastly! You know someone being unmarried for this long most likely means it’s for a reason!”
You weren’t sure what stick Vaegon had up his ass but you wouldn’t let him ruin this for you, this voyage was bad enough. Perhaps you’d be able to claim a dragon, there are plenty laying around on Dragonstone…
“I am sure I will be able to handle whatever Prince Aemonds complexion is, especially having to witness you for the past 19 years.”
————
“In King’s Landing you can’t wear these kinds of fabrics, these are a whores garments there.”
Your mother threw your old clothes to the side and motioned for you to turn around. She put a thick and hard piece of material around your waist and tied up the back.
“Alright my sweet, breathe in and-“
Suddenly all the air in your lungs was forced out in a shriek as your whole rib cage was crushed under the pressure of whatever the absolute hells this was.
“This is beauty in King’s landing! This will become your life, remember this is what you wanted.”
—————
You’d be at sea for about a month or less depending on the winds. You craved to be back on solid ground, your stomach was not agreeing with you. Sleep escaped you night after night, only catching small power naps multiple times a day before the rocking of the ship would wake you once again.
The tight clothes and strict codes for ladies your mother had laid upon you for survival in Westeros weighed in your head. You hoped your husband would not be as overbearing as you’ve heard of Westerosi men to be.
—————
Your mother had called some of her top prostitutes to come in and teach you the rules and ropes of intercourse.
“The merchants from Westeros really enjoy the girls who act sweet and innocent. You will be expected to provide as much as he pleases, and you mustn’t bore him.”
The brunette climbs on top of you and places her hips between yours, both of you fully clothed doesn’t make the moment less intimate than what you’ve had.
“Now, let’s act out how you cry out for mercy, how you beg for him to be gentle on your body.”
She begins to mimic the motions of intercourse to test and see if you are ready for what she claims will become of your life. A weird sense of embarrassment stings throughout your body, you weren’t expecting this kind of training. You didn’t know there needed to be this kind of training.
“Come on my lady, let's hear you!” She taunts you with a laugh, she grabs your wrists and pins them to the bed to really get it out of you.
——————
You could only spend most of your time reading, reading history books and other stories from Westeros. You could speak the language fluently enough, but you will get it fully soon.
Hopefully you won’t have to give up your favorite foods, the Targaryens should be rich enough to import all the finest things from Essos. Pomegranates, Watermelon, Blackberry Wine, Duck and the list goes on…
The salty air fills your nose, it would be lovely if you weren’t seasick constantly. Reading distracts your mind enough to forget your current feelings.
You haven’t heard anything about the other Targaryens outside of the history books, you don’t even know what the current ones are like…
Your mother doesn’t have good views of, well, anyone. She told you to expect the worst from most of them, if they were anything like her father then you should be watching your back at all times.
Amongst all things and her dislike for Westeros, she wanted to see you happy the most. She said time and time again she would allow you to come back no matter what.
She was sweet and kind where a mother should be.
——————
“What if I claimed a dragon? I could visit you at any time I wanted to, right?”
You asked your mother over morning tea, you were to set sail later today. This would be the last time you would see your mother for the foreseeable future.
Saera rubbed her aging finger over the rim of her cup and laughed to herself a little.
“A dragon isn’t something you can promise, most of my siblings never claimed a dragon in their lifetime.”
You huffed and pouted, your motivation to claim a dragon only increased tenfold. Ever since you were a child when you were told you couldn’t do something it would only make you want it more.
“However, if you were to claim a beast… you would fancy Silverwing I believe. Or if you seek to be bitter, my father would roll in his grave if he knew my child claimed Vermithor…”
Saera laughed to herself heartily, entertaining her child’s wild ideas. She doesn’t doubt you would attempt to claim but she doesnt be believe it would be successful.
——————
Viserys was not expecting Saera to accept his proposal. So he was shocked when Alicent burst into his chambers with a letter in and holding it out to him in anger.
“What is this?! You offer Aemonds hand to the daughter of a whore?! What were you thinking!”
He left out a guttural cough into the fabric of his handkerchief. The unexpected stress of Alicents
rage seething onto him, he was gonna tell her… eventually.
“He is my son too, I must leave no Targaryen unaccounted for. I cannot die in peace knowing there is a- a good Targaryen across the sea. You have been trying to get Aemond wed for years, it- it is the best choice.”
Alicent braces herself on a wooden chair and lets out a deep breath with her head down. Her husband is a fool, he will look like a fool to the seven kingdoms and this girl is proven to be used.
The Queen remembers how she would read to King Jaehaerys on his deathbed and he would mistake her for Saera. He would reach out to her and ask for forgiveness, the guilt would eat at her because it was not hers to give. Until the day his body gave out and he couldn’t muster words anymore he would ask for Saera.
To Alicent, Saera had made her choices and she wanted to be where she was. To bring her bastards into it was too far, she had no choice in the matter. Being the Queen didn’t matter if the King already made up his mind.
“You will force me to greet her I presume. You are far too ill to make it to the port.”
Gods, Viserys already fell back to sleep. Rotted skin exposed and clearly pain stricken. Alicent sighed out loud in frustration and stormed out of the room, guards opening and closing the doors for her.
While she would like to think she knows how Aemond will feel about such an arrangement. He has been without betrothal for all his life and the ladies of the court actively avoid him. Perhaps this is something he needs.
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hastyprovocateur · 2 months
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Ohaguro or teeth blackening was a common practice for aristocratic married women in Edo period, Japan and some men followed it too. There were a couple reasons for the trend, first being that richer women were able to afford regular makeup which comprised of a full white face as pale skin was considered beautiful.
With the absence of dental care, teeth were subject to appearing misshapen, discoloured so it was found prudent to blacken them. It was supposed to act as a cover for any dental imperfections that would otherwise stand out due to the white paint. It was also said to be a protective agent. Conversely, the look of rotten teeth were quite fashionable as it showed how many sweets wealthy women could afford to eat.
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Considering Akemi, she doesn't fit the aristocratic beauty standard either. The Shogun's representatives called her "too old" with "a few good uses left." Aristocratic women, especially aspired to be plumper as it represented wealth and Akemi is a lot leaner by that standard. So in the show's cultural context, Akemi should've been glad to have her teeth blackened as her title rose to "Lady", she became wife in the Shogun's family and attained her ultimate mark of womanhood. To be ideal enough to be chosen as a wife to the Shogun's son.
This is where Akemi's individuality and wisdom falls in, she doesn't mind presenting herself beautifully and being feminine, however there is fine line between being forced to perform as a woman and doing it out of her own volition. With Taigen, Goro, Watari, Mizu and eventually Takayoshi, Akemi uses her feminine charm willingly. Being demure, appearing harmless, sweet and sexually inviting to get something out of the interaction.
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She uses feminine talents like poetry, flattery and wit but not witty enough to make the man feel less than. However, at the time of arranging her marriage with the Shogun's son, Akemi was blindsided. She wanted to stay close to home, had apprehension against being raped/used/forcibly impregnated by the Shogun's son who was said to be a sadistic tyrant who likely killed his first wife for not being "wifely (read submissive) enough."
Of course Akemi was reluctant to blacken her teeth because it would be like being officially branded as a commodity. Thankfully, Takayoshi turned out to not be a brute and Akemi is more confident about her position in her new family.
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It's ironic that out of all the "men," Akemi used her charms against, Mizu is the only one who saw through it. Likewise, Mizu couldn't uphold her ruse of tough masculinity with Akemi who told Mizu that "youre not the killer you pretend to be" and "your face isn't even so scary, you're just angry."
Which is a HUGE flip from how vicious the men get. Hachi with the gun, Taigen, Shindo, Hamata, the Four Fanged, the Thousand Clawed completely bought how manly she was, resorting to name calling and dirty tricks because they felt insecure. It means something to me that Akemi, pinpointed Mizu's disposition without seeing her naked, unlike Ringo. And Mizu found Akemi's weak spots without having her in a position of sexual engagement, like Taigen or Takayoshi
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pathetic-sapphic · 9 months
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hi ^^ can i request how arcane milfs + vi will act when they have a crush on a fem reader ?? maybe how they court her and try to win her attention it would be so cute !!
love your work so much ! hope you’re having a great day, take care 💕
Arcane milfs + Vi when they have a crush on you
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I'll say this again and again, GRAYSON is a gentlewoman. She knows how to flirt while being extremely polite and flattering so she will gain your attention in no time. She will invite you for a fancy dinner and be an absolute delight. She will compliment your choice of clothing, pull out your chair for you, lightly hold your hand on the table and utter sweet praises by the soft glow of candle light. While the two of you are still in the courting phase, Grayson will send flowers to your apartment or your workplace which will have a sweet message attached to them. She is a bit old-fashioned and likes to formally ask you to be her partner after several successful dates and outings. She is over the moon when you return her feelings and cups your face while looking deep into your eyes and mutters out a gentle ''May I?'' before she kisses you once you give her an eager nod.
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At first, SEVIKA struggles a bit when thinking of ways to approach you. She can't remember the last time she was romantically interested in someone let alone tried to ask them out. At first, she'll try to get your attention by having drinks sent your way whenever she spots you sitting at the bar of the Last Drop. Almost dies after you turn around towards her and give her a shy wave and an appreciative smile. In order to get some alone time with you, she rents a separate booth so the two of you can get to know each other in peace. You cannot deny that she is an incredibly charming and attractive woman so you start falling for her quickly. Sevika isn't any better as she is smitten by your lovely laugh and pretty face, she tries so hard to listen to you but is distracted by your cute gestures half of the time. Eventually, she gathers up the courage to formally ask you out on a date and grins like she won the lottery once you agree. It'll take her a while to get a hang of the whole relationship thing but you think it's adorable how hard she tries to win you over.
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Prepare to be spoiled rotten, because the first tactic CASSANDRA has for gaining your attention is by showering you with gifts. Whether she gives them to you in person or sends them to you, you cannot help but always marvel at their quality and the thoughtfulness behind them. Prefers giving them to you in person as she greedily soaks up every little reaction you give her. Also takes you to lavish dinners and galas, making sure you are dressed in the most flattering and breath-taking clothing. She is also very sweet and polite towards you, she likes treating you like a lady and receiving the same treatment in return. Also invites you to her house and plans a lovely, relaxing evening for the two of you. After you finish the lovely dinner she had prepared for you, the two of you unwind on her expensive couch, sipping wine and talking about everything and nothing at the same time. She takes this opportunity to admit her feelings for you, telling you how much she admires you and how she'd love to have you as her partner, if you're willing. When you agree, she gently hugs you and presses a kiss to your forehead while telling you how happy you make her. Hearing her rushed heartbeat right next to your ear makes you think there's no other place you'd rather be at than in her loving arms.
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VI is a great flirt until she's given a taste of her own medicine. She will give you silly nicknames, initiate physical touch and always be near you, but her brain stops working when you return all those gestures and it's so endearing. She will give you tours around the Undercity, showing you its hidden gems and taking you to the most beautiful places. Takes advantage of your focus on the amazing views she shows you in order to admire your features and gaze at your reactions. She will also bring you pretty trinkets and pastries she steals from Piltover. Seeing the way your face lights up whenever she runs into you makes her heartbeat accelerate. Vi is also very protective and practically your guard dog, always standing by your side and making sure no one even looks at you wrong. She will always walk you home and lend you her jacket if you're cold. When she formally asks you to date her, she is so nervous and fumbles over her words constantly. But once she manages to get them out and you say yes, she picks you up and twirls you around, laughing happily. Once your feet find themselves on the ground, Vi kisses you and you can feel her lovesick smile on your lips and think to yourself how wonderful it would be if this moment would last forever.
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Princess Entrapta, from the 2018 Netflix reboot of She-Ra
Strengths: willingness to examine supernatural phenomena from a scientific standpoint; cybernetic prehensile hair allows her to escape from basically any physical restraints Dracula puts her in; has shown resistance to mind-controlling effects above and beyond other characters in the show; experienced in befriending pale-faced evil geniuses like Hordak; carries a shitton of tools on her person at all times
Weaknesses: would absolutely go poking around in the deeper areas of the Castle; tends to focus on learning more about a threat rather than dealing with it immediately; might make Dracula's brides jealous; lackluster sense of self-preservation
I was scrolling my inbox looking for an appropriate one to schedule for Pi Day (shockingly, no one has submitted any Talking Pies) and this seems like the right option
Oh Entrapta... it's all in the name isn't it. Would she see Dracula as a potential lab partner I wonder? She's very [whatever]-century up to date with a vengeance and he is more about the old powers which mere modernity cannot kill. And she's into that to! But there are no robots to play with in Castle Dracula. Maybe they could bond over their mutual love of trains (I have to assume Entrapta would love trains. They're not robots, but they're the closest the 1890s have to offer). Although why would you invite Princess Entrapta to your castle if you haven't got any robots to mess with?
But yeah, it's canon that as long as Entrapta has Science to do she's not going to be too concerned about being a prisoner or how evil her hosts are. But I worry that Castle Dracula will lack the sort of enrichment she needs. She also exclusively eats tiny food (hey, just like the Girlies) which Dracula may or may not be willing to accommodate. Maybe making tiny food will be less repulsive to his vampire senses so it's actually a plus.
I think Dracula's weird hours, excessive grabbing, and invasions of privacy would also not particularly bother her because she does all that too. (That hair of hers has no concept of personal space whatsoever. .......actually if she could make Dracula's mustache I think he would be super into that). On the other hand I think Entrapta would be very vulnerable to his overtures of friendship. She is easy to manipulate if you can get at her actual insecurities, and friendship is one of them. Especially with not being put-off by Dracula's eccentricities, if he tells her they're friends she's going to believe him and act accordingly.
I don't think locked doors pose any particular barrier to Entrapta, either practical or social. Ladies' wing nothing, she's in his walls now. The Girlies present a quandary. You say that Entrapta is not particularly mesmerable; and amoral as she can be, I doubt she'd be on board with baby eating. IF, I suppose, she figures out that that's what's going on. People are not her strong suit. Dracula says "I too can love" and she sits up like "aw really! That's sweet of you! But more importantly, how are you guys doing that moonbeam thing?"
I've said before Dracula expects people to react in a certain way and uses it to toy with his food, but Entrapta does not react as expected. To the Horrors at least - once he figures her out a bit as I have said he can then get into the emotional manipulation and abuse... if he is bemused by her enough to get there. How does Dracula react to being grabbed and poked and prodded by other people's hair?
So circling back, I don't think Dracula can really contain her, but she may not have any particular reason to leave. He can definitely emotionally break her. I don't think Dracula is as soft hearted as Hordak - a vampire can only love one way: by consumption, to destruction. As much as he might enjoy having an actual friend for a bit, at the end of the day he's a bastard who enjoys being cruel on purpose even more. He probably could figure out a way to kill her, but it's more fun to befriend and then abuse her.
I think the Girlies though hate having her around. She's always getting into things. Does Entrapta recognize this and treat them as a real threat? If so, that's a motivation to also leave once Dracula does. If she doesn't, I don't think she can take all three of them at once.
So presuming she has something to do there, I think Princess Entrapta can survive Castle Dracula, though not without being put through the ringer emotionally. But if she doesn't choose to escape when Dracula leaves, the Girlies get her.
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flowerandblood · 10 months
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Sweet kiss, sweet blood (10)
[ dark vampire! • Aemond x female ]
[ warnings: drinking blood, violence ]
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[description: A centuries-old vampire lives in Victorian England, bored and discouraged. His old friend sends him a letter, inviting him to his new country house. Aemond arrives there to rest. Next to the property, there is a small chapel, visited by the faithful. It turns out that at night, a young lady prays in it. Slow burn, sexual tension, profanation, murder, blood drinking.]
I owe the idea for this wonderful series to: @qyburnsghost
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Previous and next chapters: Masterlist
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Aemond sent a messenger with a letter for Ser Criston. He needed him. He needed him like never before in several hundred years of his life. He knew that he couldn't handle what his future wife was going through alone. He couldn't leave her for a moment, and he had to replenish his blood supply, which was slowly running out.
Miss Whaterfield alternately howled in pain, slept a stony sleep, and then awoke, her eyes wide open and terrified. She couldn't get used to the fact that she could smell someone, someone's blood even before she saw him in front of her.
She lunged at him, uncontrollable, her body acting automatically. Her fangs dug savagely into his neck, causing a hiss to escape his mouth.
He hugged her each time, feeling the tears streaming down her face, her silent sobs of horror as she drank his blood like a madwoman. He stroked her hair reassuringly, pressing his lips together in pain, thinking only of not letting her escape, not letting her kill anyone. He knew that she wouldn't forgive him. He kept her locked up in his bedroom, letting her drink his blood.
"Shhh. It's okay. Drink." He whispered, burying his nose in her face, now slightly cool, bright, shiny, as if it were made of porcelain. He thought that she was even more beautiful, even more delicate than before.
When she quenched her thirst, she let him go, panting heavily, trembling all over with terror. She was unable to utter a word, it seemed to her that everything was spinning around her, she was half aware of what was happening around her. She would fall asleep in his arms, exhausted, and everything would repeat itself over and over again.
Criston arrived on horseback after two days, riding as fast as he could in the full sun. Aemond appreciated his dedication.
He felt relieved when he saw his friend at his door. Criston stared at him accusingly, incredulously. Aemond knew what he was thinking.
“Alys found her while I was away. By the time I got back she was practically dead." He said, his voice trembling slightly. He thought it sounded pathetic and weak. Criston looked at him coldly.
"You should have let her die. You would show her more mercy." He said as he walked past him, stunned, embarrassed, up the stairs.
Aemond followed him into the bedroom. Criston looked at Miss Whaterfield sleeping on the bed, pale as they were, her nightgown covered in blood. He sighed softly, running his hand over his face, clearly not believing what was happening.
"Cancel her parents' visit. She'll kill them." He said, stepping closer to her, placing his hands on his hips, pacing the room restlessly. “It will be a month before she calms down. Maybe two.”
Aemond pursed his lips at his words, looking at her.
"They will be here in three days. It's too late."
Criston opened his mouth wide and laughed desperately, shaking his head, burying his face in his hands.
"How do you imagine it? And how will you explain my presence to them?" He asked, shrugging.
Aemond walked over to the bed and sat down next to her and took her soft hand in his. He noticed that despite the transformation her skin was still slightly warmer than his. As if her body wouldn't give back the remnants of humanity she had inside her.
"I don't know. She doesn't act like I did when Alys turned me. She is calmer. After she drinks blood she just falls asleep. Maybe if she had been under our control all the time she would have held out." He said helplessly, staring at her blankly.
Criston sat down on the floor by the window, thinking hard, leaning the back of his head against the wall.
"You're risking a lot." He murmured. He wanted to say more, but they both flinched when they heard her soft sound, as if she was dreaming. They both turned their gaze on her.
Her eyes opened lazily, as if she had just woken up from a very long, tiring sleep. She looked around, rising slightly. She felt her head spinning, but regained consciousness.
She looked down at her chemise, which was covered in blood, and began to breathe faster, panicking. In her mind she was seeing this woman, feeling her brutal bites and this terrible, terrifying feeling of dying.
And then, this searing, crippling pain, as if her body was on fire.
This desire, this thirst.
She was shivering all over. Aemond moved closer to her and stroked her cheek, trying to calm her down.
"What happened? What's wrong with me?” She asked, looking around uncertainly, breathing raggedly.
It terrified her to feel everything so intensely. His scent, wonderful, beautiful, making her saliva dry in her throat. She could hear his heart beating, his blood flowing through his veins. She couldn't stop thinking about the sound, couldn't focus on the words he was saying.
"Easy. Breathe.” He said softly, horrified by her condition.
Her eyes immediately shifted to Criston. She thought, smelling his scent, that he probably would have tasted different.
Not as good as Aemond.
She felt herself lick her lips involuntarily at the thought, then flinched, tears welling up in her eyes, her body starting to shake again.
"I'm scared of myself, Aemond. God, what have you done to me?" She sobbed, burying her face in her hands.
She felt him wrap his arms around her quickly, pressing her against him. She heard his chest heave uneasily. She knew that even though he tried to hold back any sounds, he was sobbing along with her. They sat like that for a while, hugging each other.
She couldn't stop thinking about the taste of his blood. About how delicious it was. Filled with his feelings for her, hot, infinite, so wonderfully satisfying her thirst. Although she tried to stop herself, she placed a hand on his shoulder, her face traveling to his neck.
He didn't stop her as she bit into him, this time more gently than before. She began to drink his blood, and he stroked her hair, kissing her shoulder once in a while. Criston stared at it without saying a word.
She pulled away from him after a moment, trying to control herself. She wiped her face and started sobbing again. It was all she had the strength to do.
Cry.
After a moment, however, she froze and fell silent, her eyes widening. She looked at Aemond, horrified.
"Tell me you canceled it. That they won't come." She said in a trembling, cracking voice.
Aemond stared at her in pain, his lip quivering slightly, his body shaking. Only now did she see how many scars from her bites, barely healed, he had on his neck.
"It was too late. They have already sent their luggage to us." He whispered helplessly.
Miss Whaterfield sobbed loudly, broken, burying her face in her hands. Aemond wanted to hug her, but she pulled away from him and lay down, curled up in a ball, covering herself with the covers and crying like that, hiding from him and the rest of the world. Aemond looked at Criston helplessly, but his friend had no words of comfort for him.
Miss Whaterfield drank his blood every day, but said nothing to him. As soon as she quenched her thirst, she climbed back under the covers, turned her back to him, and sobbed. She didn't want him to hug her or touch her. His heart broke at the sight, and he felt remorse that was unbearable.
Even if she wanted to break off her engagement to him she couldn't go anywhere alone. She was afraid of accidentally killing someone. He thought that even if she didn't let him touch her for the next fifty years, he would be there for her.
Just her presence was enough for him.
Every night before he left the bedroom he wanted to tell her that he loved her, but the words wouldn't leave his lips. He knew that now she would think that he was saying that to soften her up.
The day of her parents' arrival came. He heard her get up in the morning and take a long bath. She combed her hair and put on a dress, a beautiful, blue one, that clung wonderfully to her slender waist. As she descended the stairs, her legs were shaking all over, her lips were trembling. She was pale, but at the same time it seemed to him that she was shining. She didn't even glance at him.
She sat down next to Criston at the large table, already prepared for hospitality. Servants Aemond had hired for a few days scurried about the house. All three of them must have been very careful about what they were doing. Miss Whaterfield's hands tightened on her gown. In the morning she drank the entire cup of blood that Aemond had prepared for her, and at night she drank his blood as well.
Despite the fact that she was theoretically full, the smell of bustling people strongly stimulated some of her animal senses which awakened in her after her transformation. She found herself thinking about getting up and following these people, watching them from a distance, stalking them like a wolf on a deer. She lowered her eyes, trying to divert her thoughts from what was going on in her head.
After a while, they heard the sound of a cab approaching and voices coming from outside. They all stood up, staring at each other in horror. Aemond looked knowingly at Criston. He was not to leave Miss Whaterfield an inch and pull her out of the drawing room if he noticed any dangerous symptoms.
A servant opened the door, and her mother entered first. Mrs. Whaterfield burst into tears at the sight of her and ran to her, hugging her tightly. Miss Whaterfield froze at the intense smell of her mother, sweet, overpowering, nauseating. She felt like she was about to throw up.
Her father didn't put his arms around her, however, he immediately turned his words to Aemond, enraged.
"What's this confusion supposed to mean? Do you know, my Lord, what humiliation it is, a daughter kidnapped from a convent? How do I know that she's still untouched?" He asked, pointing at her with his top hat, as if she were a dog in a show.
"Dad…" She whispered weakly and menacingly at the same time, feeling that she could tear out his artery if he didn't close his mouth.
She felt her heart begin to pound at the thought, Criston stood closer to her, watching her warily. Aemond swallowed hard, trying to focus on the answer and not look at her.
“I know what it looks like, Mr. Whaterfield. I swear I haven't touched your daughter, and I wish from the bottom of my heart to marry her. I would really like to marry her as soon as possible, if you agree, maybe even tomorrow.” He said softly, Miss Whaterfield gave him a horrified look. Her mother covered her mouth with her hands, shocked.
"But how is it? What will people in Mantfield think? After all, it is tradition for the bride to get married in the city of her birth!” She said, terrified at the thought that anything could go differently than according to her plan.
“I would like to avoid unnecessary gossip. It would be better if we showed up in Mantfield as a married couple." He said, glancing uncertainly at his fiancée as if waiting for any kind of objection from her.
She knew that despite her rage at him she needed him. No blood tasted as delicious as his. It was the only thing that satiated her, kept her from going out of her mind, from becoming a monster. Even though that she didn't want to look at him, she couldn't leave him.
She had to be his wife.
Her parents looked at each other uneasily, apparently really considering his words. Her father cleared his throat loudly as he put down his top hat, the maid helping him take off his coat as he spoke.
"Perhaps it would be better that way. There would then be no doubt about the nature of the relationship." He spoke low, impatient, his wife swallowing loudly.
They sat down at the table in a rather heavy atmosphere, the servants gave them soup and roast to eat. Lady Mantsfield helped herself to a little soup, but as soon as she put the spoon in her mouth she thought that she was going to throw up.
She felt like she was drinking plain, thick water, with no flavor whatsoever. She wanted to cry at the thought that she would never enjoy the wonderful taste of food again. She looked at her future husband reproachfully, saw that he was looking at her with pain.
She knew perfectly well that he was suffering, that he wasn't sure if he had made the right decision by turning her. She had screamed several times over the last few days that he should have let her die, and he had taken those words with silence and humility.
His attitude annoyed her even more, she wanted to hit him and bite him constantly. Nevertheless, she always ended up sobbing in his arms, intoxicated by his wonderful scent, drinking his blood.
She shuddered at the thought, her eye involuntarily going down to his throbbing artery. Aemond saw this and glanced quickly at Criston.
"We have a small gift of apology for you." Aemond said, rising slowly from his seat. “For all the inconveniences that you had to endure because of us. Miss Whaterfield?” He motioned for her to get up and follow him.
She stood up, shivering, walking slowly up the stairs with him. He didn't resist as they entered the room, and she pressed him against the door, quickly undoing the buttons on his shirt.
She bit into his neck like a sweet fruit, and he sighed softly as if he felt pain and pleasure at the same time. She drank his blood in loud, long gulps, and he stroked her hair. There was something calm and intimate about this brutal act.
"I love you." He whispered, and she froze, slowly sliding her fangs out of him, trembling.
"I love you and I will always love you, even if you don't forgive me for the next thousand years."
_____
Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu
Others: @talesofoldandnew
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iam93percentstardust · 2 months
Note
Stevetony kissing for a dare!!! Hehe :3
DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARE!
This is the second part to the fic from yesterday (I’m doing all this on unfamiliar technology so I’m a little afraid to exit out of this screen to find the link)
~
Little Mix is playing through the speakers in Natasha’s dorm room. Steve wouldn’t have pinned Natasha, who normally likes big band jazz and old spy movies, to like that kind of pop music, but she seems to delight in surprising people, so who knows? Certainly not Steve. Bucky would be the person to ask, but he delights in his girlfriend surprising people just as much as she does, so that conversation is a nonstarter.
There’s a knock on the door, and Natasha darts over to get it. Tony slips inside, followed by his best friend, Rhodey, both of them sliding rainslick hoods off their heads.
”Sorry we’re late,” Tony pants, sounding like he just ran all the way across the city. “Warden was making extra rounds earlier.”
”You know, one day Mrs. Hill is gonna hear you calling her the warden and have you taken out back and shot,” Rhodey comments, passing his hoodie to Sam with a grateful nod.
Tony, on the other hand, seems too distracted by insulting the middle-aged chaperone of their dorm to notice that he’s still wearing his coat, so Steve gets up to help him take it off. And, no, Bucky, it isn’t just an excuse to get to touch the pretty omega. He’s being helpful. Bucky should try it some time. Tony smiles at him, sweet and lovely, as Steve slides his jacket off his shoulders, and Steve feels his heart skip a beat. After hearing Tony’s four hour rant on the inherent unfairness in how omegas are treated in this town, he no longer has any concern about associating with Tony—after all, nothing will change if they all just keep going along with the status quo—but he still hasn’t made a move to act on what he’s pretty sure is a mutual attraction. It just hasn’t felt like the right moment.
”My knight in shining armor,” Tony teases while Steve takes the jacket into the attached bathroom where Natasha has a space heater going. Rhodey clears his throat loudly, and Tony rolls his eyes. “Fine. I mean, thank you.”
No idea what that’s about.
“What are we playing tonight, boss lady?” Rhodey asks, dropping onto the floor next to Sam. Tony takes the empty seat on the free bed—left unclaimed when Natasha’s roommate decided college wasn’t for her after all—next to Steve. He curls up as close to Steve as he can get, feeling like a wall of fire against his side. Steve shifts, lifting his arm up for Tony to get even closer if he wants—which he does since he takes the invitation—and puts his arm back around his shoulders.
”Truth or dare,” Natasha declares.
Sam groans. “We’re not in middle school, Tasha.”
She scoffs, “We go home for the summer in the morning. This is my last opportunity to get blackmail material on you so I can make you come visit me. If I have to be left alone with Yelena all summer, I’m going to kill someone. Possibly Yelena.”
Considering how much Natasha talks about missing her sister, Steve doubts that that’s a real threat, but in the interest of peacekeeping, he says, “I like truth or dare.”
”That’s because you have bad taste,” Bucky says. Natasha glares at him, and he hastily revises his answer. “I mean—uh—you have great taste! Obviously.”
”Nice save,” Natasha says dryly.
Tony leans over and murmurs, “Someone’s sleeping in the spare bed tonight,” into Steve’s ear. Steve snickers, drawing Natasha’s glare on both of them. Tony holds up his hands in conciliation. “I would just like to point out that I like truth or dare.”
”Yeah, that’s because you have no shame,” Rhodey points out.
Tony shrugs. “Guilty.”
“You’re going to pick dare every time.”
“Still guilty.”
“And if you don’t get one that lets you run naked through the quad, you’re going to light something on fire. Don’t think I don’t remember that game last year.”
Tony considers it and then shrugs again. “Guilty of that too.”
“You lit something on fire?” Steve asks incredulously.
”I light lots of things on fire. I’m an engineer. Keep up, Steven.”
“Ooh first named,” Bucky taunts. Steve takes one of the pillows from the bed and throws it at him.
Somehow, in all of the hullabaloo, they forget to set down rules for the game, which is good because just like Tony enjoys doing all dares, Steve only wants to answer truth. And for reasons that he’s never figured out, it’s acceptable to pick dare every time but not truth. For the most part, no one really notices—except for Natasha, but she doesn’t miss a trick. Ever. And when Tony and Rhodey start commenting about heading home so they don’t get locked out of their dorm, she talks them into one more round and then turns to Steve with an evil look in her eyes.
”Truth or dare, Steve?” she asks.
“Truth,” he says, certain she’s going to call him out on it. But betrayal comes from somewhere else entirely.
“Hey, you can’t keep picking truth!” Bucky protests. “You’ve done that all night!”
”That wasn’t in the rules,” Steve argues.
”You have to do it at least once,” Natasha wheedles. “You’re the most boring person alive—”
”Hey!”
”I don’t have any blackmail material at all.”
”Okay, let’s not insult Steve’s character,” Tony cuts in, and Steve is about to thank him but then Tony turns to him with that sparkle in his eyes that spells trouble for everyone around. “Just one dare? Please? To tide us over until we get back from summer?”
He sighs. He can’t say no to those big eyes. “Alright. One dare.”
Natasha pumps her fist triumphantly and then, so quickly that she had to have been planning this one for a while, she says, “I dare you to kiss Tony.”
“What?” he squawks.
”You heard me,” she repeats. Definitely evil. “I dare you to kiss Tony.”
Tony chuckles nervously. “Alright, we don’t need to make Steve do something he doesn’t want to do.”
And that’s just—no. Something he doesn’t want to do? Where would Tony even get that idea from? Kissing him is pretty much the only thing he ever wants to do.
Without thinking about it, without letting himself worry about ruining their friendship or if Tony’s protest was really him saying he doesn’t want to kiss Steve or the consequences if they get caught, Steve kisses him. Hand cupping Tony’s cheek, beard soft against his palm, swallowing the soft gasp Tony makes. It’s a good kiss. Fuck, it’s a great kiss. Easily the best one Steve has ever had (not that he’s had that many).
He pulls back only because he has to breathe, not out of any real desire to stop. He’s dimly aware that their friends are applauding them in the background, but he’s too busy drowning in Tony’s dark eyes to care what they’re doing.
”Oh,” Tony breathes, and Steve feels the exact same way.
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borntoocry · 6 months
Text
the bread bully
synopsis: ellie has been a bully to YN for a while—since she arrived to jackson. and it’s been killing yn… because she has a crush on ellie. and what’s worse, she’s friends with her friends dina and jesse. on her birthday they throw a small get together for her, but what yn doesn’t know is that ellie is invited too. tension is high.
pt 2 soon ?
________
If I was born 20 years before the apocalypse began, I would have been celebrating my 19th birthday by sneaking into 21+ bars and drinking odd combinations of drinks beside a hot woman. Instead, I am celebrating my 19th by opening my father’s bakery. I’m invited to Dina’s to drink and smoke with her and Jesse, but as I set up the shop, I remind myself of who enjoys hanging around them… 
Ellie has never liked me. I say that despite her recurring presence at the shop every week. In exchange for sweet treats, she slaps a rude comment across my face and waits for my reaction. Said comments never fail to dim my smile, which I assume is what she wants. 
I like Ellie. She’s gorgeous–from her build to her hair and skin; the freckles that dot her face and make her look like the inside of a holiday snowglobe. I’ve had a crush on her since the day she arrived in Jackson. But to confess that, especially now, is like making a terrible joke to a room full of snobby teenagers and waiting for them to laugh in your face. 
When I shut the door to the pretzel rack, the door to the shop swings open. I look to the floor, knowing who it is walking in–Ellie, of course, with her old raggedy Converse and faded black jeans. I turn around and plug the coffee machine in, the smell instantly pouring out. I may not be a rude person, but the least I can do is fill the room with the scent of black coffee. 
“Hey,” Ellie says, her singular word sending a deathly shock through my chest. It felt as though I ate a bag of needles. “Get me a couple of chocolate muffins.” 
I feel my jaw twitch. I hate serving people whose vocabulary lacks please, and thank you, or “Could I get,” instead of “Get me.” Also, what number is a couple? Am I supposed to know that? 
I roll my eyes and reach for my gloves. However, before I slide them on, I pause. “Excuse me?” I say, which would have worked if I responded immediately. Now I just sound stupid. 
“Get me a couple of muffins.” Ellie doesn’t move a muscle or even a stupid brain cell, by the looks of it. She doesn’t catch on to the fact that I won’t get her, however many muffins constitute ‘a couple’ until she asks for them respectfully. 
I drop my gloves and tightly grasp the counter until my knuckles turn white. “I know what you said, I just–” 
“Then why are you acting like you don’t?” Ellie snapped. 
“You are literally just telling me to get you shit without being respectful. It’s like you know I’ll have to give these muffins to you.” 
“You don’t have to,” she answers with a shrug. That stupid, ugly shrug she does when she wants to sound smart. Like she has the entire fucked up world in her hands and she can do as she pleases. “But isn’t that what you do? Serve people? That’s your job–to get me what I need.” 
“Yes, I serve people, but that doesn’t mean you can be a dick. Why don’t you just say please, or thank you or–” 
“YN!” my dad shouts from the kitchen. He steps out with a rag mushed up in his hands. “Stop being rude and give the lady what she wants. Just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean you can treat everyone how you want.”
I feel like ripping Ellie’s tongue out and slapping her with it. It was my birthday and she had already embarrassed me in front of my own dad. I was over her. 
“Oh shit!” Ellie exclaims. “It is your birthday, huh. That’s why I was invited to Dina’s.” 
I nodded. 
“Happy birthday young one,” she says as if she wasn’t rude to me a second ago. She pauses, steps back a bit, then taps her fingers against the countertop. “Could you still get me a couple of muffins though.” 
I rolled my eyes. “How many is a couple?” 
She scoffs. “Four.” 
I throw on my gloves, pick up her stupid muffins, and wrap them in the cloth she kindly slid onto the counter. I push them back to her and give her a curt smile. “Here ya’ go.” 
“Thanks,” she murmurs, grabbing her muffins and running off. 
It isn’t some kind of secret that I gained weight. Everyone knows, but no one has said  a thing. I guess it’s because it suits me well. I’ve been walking and running and lifting more than my dad, so I eat more. And with that… almost every part of my body has gained a bit of fat. The only issue is, my bra’s no longer fit. They suffocate my skin under my boobs and make them spill over. 
I stare at my body in the mirror and simply give up. My boobs are spilling out and I know my skin will bruise if I keep it on. I opt for a no bra kind of night, and wear two shirts: a spaghetti strap camisole and a long sleeve. I throw on my black jeans and boots and run over to Dina’s without saying a word to my dad. He knows where I’ll be. Plus, we already shared a birthday cake before we closed up shop. 
When I arrive at Dina's, I shove my shaking hands into my pockets. I don’t know if Ellie will be inside, but the thought of her staring into my soul with her ridiculing smile shakes me. 
The brown door swings open and there stands Dina holding a joint. “Come in,” she says with her large smile. 
I nod and step in, the shakiness slowly pooling beneath me. Until I hear the sound of her stupid Converse scuffing the floor followed by her laugh. All of a sudden the shakiness shoots up my body and paralyzes my bones. I stare at Dina as if Ellie didn’t tell me she was invited. I had an ounce of hope that she would decide to stay home–but she loved Jesse and Dina and wouldn’t miss hanging around them. 
“You okay?” Dina asks as her hand slides onto my shoulder. I flinch and my bones snap. 
I nod. “Yeah,” I respond, shaking my body out and taking a step. “Just forgot she’d be here.” 
She sighs and rubs her cool fingers down my shoulder. “Just… don’t acknowledge her.” 
I roll my eyes and walk past her, her hand falling and sweeping past my ass. “As if that’s easy to do.” 
She cackles and follows behind me to the kitchen where Jesse and Ellie are making drinks with homemade cranberry juice. They pick up the glasses without realizing we’re walking up to them. They almost drop them until I slide a hand over Ellie’s hip, gripping onto her and taking the drink from her hand. 
“Be careful,” I mutter and place the glass back on the counter. 
She clears her throat and steps back, her hands awkwardly maneuvering down her waist where she dusts her hips off. “You bumped into me,” she spits. 
“Sorry,” I say and raise my hands in mock defense. 
“Hmph,” she mutters. 
I laugh and take the glass back, sipping it quickly. “You surprised that someone has manners?” 
She wraps her hands around the counter and leans down until she’s staring down my eyes and breasts. “You’re still mad at me for that?” 
I take another sip and raise my eyebrows while the strong taste of liquor seeps down my throat. “No, just pointing it out,” I say, my voice implying another comment is lying on my tongue. 
She lets the silence become murderous before she speaks. A smart tactic, because I want to pull away and rethink all that I’ve said to her despite nothing overly insane snuck out of my mouth. I almost do–pull away and walk out of the room–but she speaks. 
“Why do you not like me?” she asks. She slides her hand across the surface and steals my drink–which was, I’m assuming, hers to begin with. She takes a sip and raises her eyebrows while I laugh absurdly. “What?”
I shake my head and push myself off the counter. I step back and shrug. “You asking that is the funniest thing I’ve heard all day,” I tell her. “Which is crazy considering what you were telling me this morning.” 
She finishes the last of her drink and pushes it into the sink. She hurries to me in long strides and grabs onto me. I turn to look at Jesse and Dina, hoping one of them would look at me and pause the situation, but they’re laughing, fucking one another with their eyes. Ellie slides me back around and I follow her to the back porch. 
The door slams and I’m next: Ellie slams my body on top of hers as she drops onto a chair. I dig my nails into her shoulders and gasp in her face. The natural scent of mint and cranberry wafts back into mine and I swallow down my breath. 
I pat her shoulder where my nails sinked in and push away from her. However, she grasps my biceps and presses me back into place. 
I look at her with small eyes and a frown etched onto my mouth. “I’m trying to get off,” I utter. 
“I know,” she replies. “But just stay. I want to know all about your little resentment towards me.” 
I can’t help but roll my eyes for the fifth time. I look away at the reviving grass and laugh. 
“Why are you laughing?” 
“Because.” I return my focus onto her and my smile fades as she doesn’t have one across her face. “Because you hate me.” 
She scrunches up her face and shakes her head. “What?” she asks–like she doesn’t know what the hell I mean. “No, I don’t.” 
I push off her with enough force to bounce off her lap. I stumble over my boots but hold onto the wood pole behind me. “No, you don't?” I gasp, trying to catch my breath after almost dying. “You come into my shop almost every single day just to make fun of me.” 
“That’s not true.” 
I scoff and shake my head, in such an angering way that it might spin off and knock her unconscious. “How? Are you going to gaslight me into thinking I’m just going crazy? Because I’m not. I might be a little younger than you but that doesn’t make me clueless.” 
“I didn’t say you were,” she mutters. 
I purse my lips and throw my hands in the air. Why try with this girl if it’s going to end in me almost popping a blood vessel. 
“I can’t fucking stand you,” I exclaim and walk back into the house. I walk directly to Jesse who is so happily making drinks in the kitchen. I grab the whiskey bottle and pour it directly into a glass. I’m not much of a whiskey drinker, but why not. 
I take the full glass to the front porch and drink it slowly as I look at the remaining people entering their homes after a long day. Soon enough, the streets will be empty and I’ll be left with the sound of chirping cicadas. 
And slowly, it does happen. I continue sipping on the never-empty whiskey in my glass and listen to the insects rummaging in the shrubs. No one really interrupts me besides Jesse who comes out to fill my glass and ask how I am. I say I’m fine, but he knows I’m not–he senses something happened with Ellie earlier, but he doesn’t ask. He knows I’ll talk about it later. 
As the night gets more lonely and darker, I feel the whiskey warming up my body. At one point my nipples were harder than rocks and I began shivering, but now I feel like a blanket has slid across my entire body. 
I feel nothing. Not even the disappointment from Ellie treating me like trash. But I don’t know why I didn’t expect her to act as if nothing happened when I brought it up. Now I just feel stupid. 
A knock at the door alarms me. I turn around and almost sink into the wooden steps. Ellie stands there with a joint in between her fingers with a box of matches and a drink in her other hand. 
“I’m okay,” I tell her and turn around. “Tell Dina and Jesse that I’m good.” 
“It’s your birthday,” she says. 
“Yeah,” I mumble, “I know.” 
“So why have you been outside for the entirety of this celebration? You do know this is for you, right? It’s not Dina or Jesse’s birthday.” 
“If you’re here to make me feel more like shit, you’ve done your job. Now please, go back inside.” 
“No.” 
“Ellie!” I exclaim, setting my glass down and wobbling up onto my feet. “What the fuck is your deal? Go back inside and leave me alone!” 
She extends her hand, palm up with the joint laying across it. “Peace offering.” 
I shake my head. “You just came out here and told me I ruined the night.” 
“Not what I said.” 
“You essentially did.” 
“Did the exact words come out of my mouth?” 
“Fuck you,” I spit, and bend down to collect my drink. But I guess I’m not as balanced as I thought I was, so I almost slam onto the ground. 
Ellie reaches out for me and grabs my waist, sitting me down alongside her. “Be careful,” she tells me, copying my words from earlier. 
“I don’t like you,” I mutter. 
“Cool,” she replies. She places the joint between her lips and lights it with the already burning match. She sucks in and blows out, the strong smell of weed funneling into my nose. “You wanna hit?” 
I take the joint and suck in as hard as I can. I almost cough out a lung, so I sip on my whiskey. Ellie doesn’t ask if I’m okay, but I have a feeling she cares because she takes the joint from me and grabs her drink. She pushes away my whiskey glass and instantly I drink whatever is in her cup. 
Juice. Homemade apple juice. 
I wrap my hands around her own and sip until there is nothing left. Her laugh overflows my senses after I drink enough to burst my bladder. She takes the empty cup and sets it on the ground, the same hand settling down on my back two seconds later. I feel her fingertips rolling over my spine and I shiver. I know what she’s doing–she wants to sleep with me so she can prove that despite being an asshole, you can still have your way; because she always does, have her way. 
I swivel around and stare at her and the hand that has fallen onto her lap. She runs it down her thigh then digs her nails into her knee. 
“What?” she asks. “Did I do something?” 
I nod and stand up, my balance remaining wobbly. “Yes. I mean, you come out here to talk trash about me, then you let me hit a joint, and you let me drink some of your juice. And it’s all for you to try and seduce me. So you can show everyone in Jackson how much of a spoiled whore you are.” 
Ellie’s eyebrows crinkle and her mouth falls into a frown. She stands up and walks towards me, her hand stretched out in an attempt to make me stand still. I stand still, but not for her. I want to let my words knock her down. 
“I’m not going to be another gay girl in Jackson that gives you what you want,” I tell her. Ellie seems hurt, her shoulders dragging on the ground, her chest heaving like I punched the air out of her. I shouldn’t care because she never does, but I feel like sewing my lips together. “What number am I?” 
“Stop,” Ellie mumbles. “That’s not even it. I’m not trying to seduce you, Y/N. I was trying to be nice .” 
I scoff. “Oh really?” 
She turns around and walks down the steps, kicking down the cup in her path. I don’t have a clue where she’s going, but with the guilt slowly chewing my insides, I follow her. 
I say Ellie’s name. 
She turns around and tries to walk faster, but there is nowhere to go or hide that I wouldn’t know of, so she stalls. “What?” she huffs. 
“I sounded rude,” I tell her. 
“Okay?” 
“I should have tried to word it differently.” 
She turns around with a smile. She dips her hands into her pockets and begins cackling, her hair shaking out of its ponytail. “You were rude, and you never are. It’s cool. Just surprised that you called me out on my shit.” 
I shake my head and head over to her. I stand directly in front of her with only a foot of distance between us. “I like you, Ellie,” I whisper. “But it hurts knowing you mess with other girls in Jackson. And you’re being mean to the one girl that truly likes you.” 
She avoids my gaze, instead shoving her fists deeper into her men’s jeans. I want to shout at her to look at me. How is it that she can throw foolish words at me while staring me down but as soon as I confess to her that it hurts liking her because of this, she can’t even bare her eyes. 
I laugh and take a step back. “You won’t even look at me when I’m talking to you. This means a lot to me–just telling you how I feel! And you won’t even share a fucking glance.” 
I stand there hoping she’s only quiet because she’s forming a coherent apology, but all she does is rock back and forth with a cold look on her face. 
I nod. She’s not going to apologize. She doesn’t even feel bad for what she’s done to me. So I back away and turn around, the alcohol draining from the bottom of my feet. 
— 
I’m sober when I walk back to Dina’s. I pick up my shattered glass outside and throw it into the trash. I pick the glass out of my hands and bandage it up. All in silence. Music streams from some part of the house, but I can only hear my humming. 
Dina and Jesse are somewhere, but I don’t know nor care. I just clean up and leave. 
I’m on my way home when I see a shadow grow behind me. The smell of pine–that isn’t the trees around me–invades my nose and I begin walking faster. 
My name is called a matter of three times before I even acknowledge it. 
“What?!” I shout. “Leave me alone, Ellie. I don’t want to talk to you.” 
Her body speed walks beside me. “Can you just listen?” 
“To your dumbass apology?” I ask. “No.” 
“Y/N,” she pleads. “Just look at me.” 
I scoff. “Why should I? You didn’t do the same for me.” 
“Okay well I’m looking at you right now. And I want you to look at me so I can offer a true apology.” 
I try to walk even faster to my house. Right now I’d rather run into the forest and let the clickers eat me. 
“Y/N!” she exclaims. 
I want to cry. I desperately need to release a tear. 
Ellie shoves herself in front of me and grabs my shoulders. “Please,” she says. “Please just listen.” 
I look into her eyes with a tear plopping onto my cheek. I shake my head and grab her hands, shoving them off me. “Why would I after you’ve spent so long ridiculing me in front of my own family?” I cry. “Fuck off Ellie. I don’t wanna hear it.” 
I push past her and make it to my house three minutes later. I push the door open and as soon as I step one foot inside, I cry my lungs out.
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mayullla · 1 year
Note
1.🍀Hello! I love your writing and its really sweet that you're doing this present thing! I hope you have a great day!!
2.Thoma
3. Yandere
4. 🦋
<3
Title: Deaf to your words
Character(s): Thoma (Genshin Impact) Summary: Everybody thought that you and Thoma were a couple, that even they would not believe your own words. Warnings/tags: Yandere themes, Fem!reader, Ayaka makes an appearance while Thoma makes one at the end, public manipulation, angst maybe?, kamisato estate servant reader
[ - A little present~! Event - Closed - ]
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"I heard that you started dating Thoma?" You looked the lady surprised at what she said. "P-pardon?" You asked, unable to comprehend what she just said.
Ayaka looked at you also in surprise at your reaction, wondering if something she said was wrong. "You and Thoma are dating are you not?" She asked again.
You were quick to react waving your hands in a flustered state. "No- no! We are not dating my lady! Whoever gave you that idea?!"
"Oh.. I-I am sorry. Everyone thinks that you and Thoma are dating." Ayaka placed a hand on her face flustered. "It is just that you two are always together that I thought that you would be dating. I always see Thoma trailing after you and he always talks about you."
Hearing her words made you sigh, but you pushed a smile on your face as you shook your head again. "No, we are not."
In fact, you don't even like him that way!
"Well, then I am heading to the market now Lady Ayaka." You bowed to the lady who waved at you smiling, "Alright, stay safe."
'Finally, some air to breathe...' You thought to yourself as you head to the market.
To be honest it isn't only Ayaka who had this assumption of you and Thoma dating... even the other servants all had the same thoughts and while it didn't matter too much before the rumors and whispers have become much more louder than before. Even this morning the head maid had stopped you from your chores to congratulate a couple that wasn't real.
'Lovers' they thought even when you denied it they just passed it off as you being shy. Not matter that you said they all thought that you were dating Thoma. Now to think that even the Lady thought your guys were dating was just frustrating for you!
You don't like Thoma that way... you only like him as a close friend and nothing more. But you noticed how clinging Thoma was starting to get, seeing you with multiple excuses some better than others. How he would away be right beside you a little too close for comfort or how he would always watch you when he thought that you wouldn't notice... You noticed it all... It was suffocating and it fueled the rumors whether you like it or not.
Yet it seems that wasn't the end when you entered the market almost everyone that you knew went up to you congratulating you and if not that teasing you for dating the "fixer" in Inazuma.
Some said that they knew that you two were dating when they saw you walk around the market with him. The love in his eyes, they called you lucky at the fact that Thoma was just so in love with you. Even here they didn't listen to your voice, even as you tried to tell them constantly that you were not dating Thoma they didn't believe it.
"Oh, what are you saying! You absolutely look adorable with each other!! Don't tell this old lady that you are not when it is so obvious!!" An old lady in the market nagged you when you tried to tell her no. "I can't wait to see you as a bride! You better invite me alright? Ah! I could just see it now!"
"Ohh~ you don't have to be shy~~ I totally get it! It is so hard to find a man like Thoma these days I'm so jealous." Your friend jokingly shoved you with a sly smile on her face. As she waved her finger in your face as if telling you she would not fall for that lie when it was not.
"A fine catch if I do say myself! Buahahahah!!" An old fisherman laughed out loud at his own joke "He is a good man, very helpful when you want to get things done a very good husband." The old man acted as if you two would marry in the near future, your words falling on deaf ears.
Nobody listened to what you had to say again, all just gave you cheers and congratulations. You didn't understand what was happening, nothing made sense to you as you went back with heavy feelings of frustration.
So close to crying when you shouldn't be...
"You shouldn't insist that much that you aren't dating even if you are shy. You will cause misunderstanding for others. It will only create an awkward atmosphere and the sayer would have nothing to say then." You flinched at the words of an older woman, she was someone you knew and thought as of a close aunt yet when you thought that she would listen she didn't instead reprimand you for your insistence. "Not only that you will hurt Thoma's feelings."
You bit your tongue, as you were taught that you shouldn't act like this. The old lady's nagging made you frustrated yet you held back. You went back home angry unable to do anything about it. You wanted to cry, you wanted to curl up in a ball because you felt so alone.
"Hey, where have yo- Huh?" A familiar voice called you, running when he noticed your face unable to contain your frustrations. "What is the matter?"
You wanted to yell at him, yell because it felt like he was the one who made this whole situation happen but you also knew that everything could have been a misunderstanding....
You don't know...
You don't know anymore... you weren't sure what to say when he loomed at you in concern the first time today when everyone just pushed your words and feelings aside.
You didn't move when he gave you a hug his whole body wrapped around yours, it was warm and you could not help but let a few tears spill. You could not stop. You clung to his clothes unsure if you should push him or not, it wasn't really the misunderstanding that caused you to become like this but because you felt like nobody could hear you... that you were all alone right now.
Thoma looked at your small frame, shaking as you tried to stop yourself from crying unable to. He held you tight yet he can't help but smile a little as you held him, he was saddened to see you in this state yet he can't help but have this fluttering feeling of excitement.
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Text
Stryker
Pairing: Hangman x pilot!fem!reader
Writing type: blurb
Warnings: none
A/N: this takes place in the “Sweet Southern Belle” universe. A picture of what Stryker would look like is linked in the title.
Top Gun Masterlist
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——————————————————————
Penny had invited the entire squadron over for a BBQ before Maverick had to go on another assignment. The men were tossing a football around in the backyard while the women sat on the porch, nursing drinks of their choice.
Y/N got up from her chair and turned to the other women.
“Well, ladies. I need another drink. Anyone else?”
Both woman either shook her head or said no, so she walked through the back door and into the kitchen. She grabbed a glass from the cabinet and went over to the sink to fill it up, looking out of the window as she did so.
While she was taking a sip of her water, she noticed a cute, black puppy walking down the street. She immediately put down her glass and tan ourside.
“C’mere puppy. Hi! Hello,” she spoke in a high-pitched voice as she walked up to it. The puppy heard her and turned towards her, his tail wagging as he trotted over to her. She crouched down and let him smell her hand before she pet him. “Oh, we’ll aren’t you cuter than a button? Yes you are, yes you are.”
“Now, I would give anything to be talked to like that,” Hangman’s voice rang out from behind her. She picked up the puppy and stood up, wrapping her arms securely around him.
“Maybe if you acted nicer, you would be,” she said, not taking her eyes off the puppy. She ran her fingers through his fur around his neck to see if he had a collar. “Well, no collar. Guess I get to keep you!” She said the last sentence in the same baby voice as earlier. Jake scoffed as he walked up to her, allowing the puppy to sniff his hand before petting him.
“You’re a naval pilot. You can’t keep him,” he said teasingly yet softly. The puppy licked his hand and Jake smiled a boyish smile. He looked into the puppy’s blue eyes and melted. “Well, maybe Penny can watch him while we’re gone.”
Y/N looked up at her boyfriend and grinned widely.
“That’s the best idea you’ve had in a while, Bagman.”
——————————————————————
Of course, Penny said yes to helping out. Maverick somehow got permission to allow him on base when they had briefings and when the squadron start to teach. Y/N decided to name him Stryker, after the military vehicle.
Stryker became a common occurrence around the base, especially in the rec room and in the classrooms. He mainly stayed right next to Y/N, but he could be found around Jake and Pheonix; sometimes Rooster since he would always get in the ground and play with him.
He was now roughly a year old, since the vet placed him at about 4 months when Y/N took him in. The vet said that he was was a German Shepard, Great Dane mix. They had him trained like a K-9 would be and neutered.
Y/N stood in front of her class, pointing to the screen behind her. Stryker laid beside her feet obediently, silently watching. Y/N turned around and Stryker’s ears perked up, seeing someone in the back of the room.
Jake stood in the doorway, arms crossed and leaning against it. When he saw that he had caught Stryker’s attention, he snapped his fingers beside his leg, the motion they had trained Stryker to come to their sides. Stryker, being the obedient dog he is, got up and trotted to Jake’s side.
When Y/N turned around, she was confused when she didn’t see a mass of black fur beside her. But she noticed that mass on the floor in the back, getting belly rubs from her boyfriend. She smiled and shook her head and continued with her lesson.
After she dismissed her session, Jake and Stryker walked up to her.
“Hello, gorgeous,” he said, leaning down to kiss her quickly on the lips. Y/N smiled and wrapped her arms around his torso.
“Hi,” she responded.
Whining could be heard from beside them, and they look down to see Stryker to wagging his tail and his tongue sticking out. Y/N laughed and patter her chest, the signal for him to jump up.
He did as told and jumped onto Y/N, his paws on her shoulder, and started licking her. This caused her to laugh and rake her fingers through his fur.
“Aww c’mon now, Stryke. That’s my girl,” Jake playfully whined. Stryker barked and leaned his head back to look at Jake, somehow.
“Now now, tell your dad that there’s no reason to be jealous,” she said in a baby voice. Jake smiled at the word ‘dad’ and pet Stryker too.
“I like the sound me being a dad, darlin’. What about you?” He asked, smirking. Y/N laughed and looked down at Stryker, who had leaned his head on her shoulder.
“Slow down there, Bagman. We have to get married first,” she said teasingly. Jake just smirked and leaned down, placing a heated kiss on her lips.
“I can make that happen.”
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liminalpebble · 1 year
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The Refugee: Chapter 40
Masterlist Link
The next day, Lenora arrived to Beatrice's village on the same ship that had carried her away from it in chains nearly two years before; the flat wheel of her life's journey rotating once again to a familiar position. The couple made their path down the gangway arm in arm as a crowd gathered around them. 
There were many familiar faces ready to receive the to-be empress whom they all thought of with pride as their local girl. Hands to shake and bouquets of flowers met her fingers one after the other in a torrent of greeting. Noa and his family were first in line, putting on their most sophisticated manners and nicest clothes to receive her. They were surprised when Lea abandoned all royal protocol to hug each of them warmly and thank them for their gift. Noa himself, though shaky, stood to hold his fellow Morhari by her hands and gave her a kiss on each cheek. Since Noa's sense of tact had been worn down by confusion and old age, he didn't hesitate to give the emperor a very rude gesture, which Lea fruitlessly hoped Loki wouldn't understand. Shocked by Noa's behavior, his daughters swatted his hand down with a mortified scolding.
Loki only laughed, pretending not to understand and said, “What a charming Morhari gesture of welcome. Thank you.” and continued on, amused. Lea exhaled her nervously held breath, relieved that Loki took it all in stride. As the procession moved to the center of town, the familiar sight of its only saloon and boarding house rose up before her; a vista of inviting worn amber wood and glinting windows. Today even the building was putting on its best airs, draped in bunting and lanyards. Lea grinned as all of her former co-workers and Beatrice herself greeted the visiting dignitaries. The beautiful ladies donned their finest outfits. Standing together, the group met her eyes as a riotous patchwork quilt of joyful colors. They seemed nervous, having been told, no doubt, by Laufeyson politicians and governors to be on their best behavior, but Lea embraced them all and talked casually to them, just as she did when she was merely a barmaid. The Morhari refugee clearly still considered herself very much their equal; no better, no worse.
They had been outside for some time and, though the sun shone beautifully, the air held a crisp biting chill. Lea raised her voice and said, “It's getting cold out here. Thank you for coming to see us but I hope you'll all go inside to warm up. We'll have time for visits later.” They chuckled and gave little bows to excuse themselves as she suggested.
Loki laughed and kissed her on the wind-flushed apples of her cheeks. “You're still so sweet...such a considerate little queen.”
“What? Anyone can see they're all cold. There's no sense in them standing around.”
“That's just it, little empress. Not everyone would notice. I certainly didn't.”
---
They settled into their quarters at Beatrice's; the finest suite in the whole vast building. Lea realized she had never even been allowed in these rooms, not even to clean them, much less as a guest in them. She felt a bit like a child sneaking into a forbidden candy jar, and gingerly made her way around the room, fingers running gently over the polished wood and embroidered fabrics.
Loki watched her, puzzled by her expression. “Is it not satisfactory?” he inquired, removing his helmet and running his hand through his hair, mussing it. She smiled as his charming curls made an appearance. How she loved seeing him this way.
“No! No, it's perfect. It's nothing like that. I just feel like a barmaid again. I feel like I should be working here, rolling barrels of ale up from the cellar, rather than staying in the best suite as a guest.”
“I can't think of anyone who deserves this luxury more,” said Beatrice's musical voice behind her.
Lea ran up and held her tightly, enveloped by Bea's familiar seductive floral scent, and glad that now in private they could finally relax and act more themselves. “Oh Bea! How I've missed you.”
“I've missed you too, Lea my Love,” she said warmly, pinching her round flushed cheek playfully.
Loki strolled over to greet the tall regal lady. “Hello again, Beatrice. It's just lovely to...”. His sentence was truncated by a swift kick to the groin from Beatrice's long powerful leg.
He yelped and crumpled pathetically. Lea put her hands over her mouth, eyes very wide. Her body couldn't decide weather to laugh hysterically or gasp in horror, so she remained frozen.
Loki grunted, righting himself, trying to gain a semblance of composure. “Beatrice, darling, you're very very lucky I'm wearing armor or that would have done a good deal more damage than it has done.”
“But it did hurt?” she asked casually.
“Yes. Of course it hurt!” he said irritated. “Bea, of all the childish...”
“Good. Trickster, did I not tell you what I would do if you didn't treat this girl well? I would say this is a much kinder punishment than the one I promised you.” She stalked closer, straight-backed and dominating. Lenora noticed for the first time that the emperor and the proprietor were the same height.
Loki flipped his hair haughtily, setting his hands on his hips. “How the hell would you know?”
“I'm a witch, just as your mother was, God of Lies. We know when a sister is being mistreated. By the way, how are you enjoying your familiar, Lea?” she inquired with a knowing smirk, ignoring Loki completely as she turned her attention back to the young lady, unconcerned.
Lea frowned in confusion and paused to think. “Vlad? The little black cat? Did you send him to me?”
Bea nodded proudly and, as if on cue, the little panther jumped smoothly into the madam's long graceful arms. “Lea, by virtue of your powers you are a witch now...one of us...and every witch needs a familiar. His name is Vlad? Goodness child, where did you come up with such a name!”
Lea chuckled and scratched between his ears. “It's a bit of an inside joke. But thank you, Bea. He's been very good to me. He even saved my life.”
“Ladies,” Loki said, trying to smooth out his voice which was still gravelly with discomfort. Lea was happy to see that he recovered a bit more quickly than she anticipated. Bea was disappointed to notice the same thing. “This is all very interesting, but it's been a very very long day. Beatrice, would you mind allowing us to retire for the evening?”
Bea smiled her sweetest smile and said, “Of course, Your Highness” as she lowered Vlad back down, kissed Lea on the cheek, and swung out the door in a cloud of perfume and a rustle of skirts.
As the door closed Lenora rushed over to Loki, half giggling and half pitying his state. “Are you okay, Loki? You poor thing!”
He gave her an expression that was half smile and half grimace. “It's fine, darling. I just seem to be getting a bit of long overdue comeuppance today.”
She nodded, acknowledging the truth of his words, but rubbed comforting circles over his back nonetheless. “You're handling it admirably. I was afraid you might be in a tirade by now, after Noa and now this.”
He straightened up and gathered her reassuring petite form in his arms. “Do you really think so little of me?”  
I'm beginning to think the world of you, she thought, shocking herself, wishing it weren't true, but knowing from the aching swell of affection in her heart that it was.
She definitely couldn't voice it. It would only go to his head. Lenora admitted, if only to herself, that she was deeply in love with the monster whose teeth and tongue and muscle had torn her apart so many times. Still she reached out to him gently, patiently, appreciating him for the dangerous beautiful hungry creature that he was, never trying to change him, only hoping that with kindness (and, occasionally, confrontation) he would learn to change himself. She told herself it was senseless, reckless, dangerous, hopeless, but deep down she knew it for what it was; selfless love. His resilience, his intelligence, all his maddening lonely hurt beneath his masks, his ache for love and acceptance, were all things she recognized within herself. They were, after all, both refugees, restless outsider souls desperate for a real home. Perhaps, after all this time, they could find one in each other.
The startling icy snap of this realization and the chilly air made her shiver. She thought, not for the first time in the last few days, that the air around her always felt colder than it ought to. Though Lenora found it vaguely unsettling, she struggled to find a reason why. Maybe I'm just getting sick, she thought, this has been draining, after all.
Loki's eyes softened with concern as he noticed her shivering, and wrapped the edge of his long cape around her shoulders, swaddling them together in a cocoon of emerald velvet. “Even indoors with a roaring fire, my darling girl is still always cold? Or are you afraid?”
She gave a wry smile. He had no idea how right he was. “Both,” she answered openly.
He held her closer, swaying gently in a subtle dance, her head nestled against him, his chin resting on the crown of her head. Loki exhaled and she could feel the wave of air move through his broad chest. He said, pensively, “So here we are, little dancer, back where it all began, where I first fell so desperately for you. You said that in this place you'd been someone else. Am I a different person as well?”
“We've both changed so many times. It's disorienting.”
He stroked her cheek and said, “I don't want to be the man who dragged you away in chains anymore. More and more, I want to be the hopeless romantic I find myself becoming around you and you alone.” He pulled back to face her, suddenly shy, like a bashful lovestruck boy, “Lenora...this...this is all new to me. I know our wedding, for you at least, will be a matter of practicality. For me though...I'm ecstatic. I'll be thrilled to shower you with all the acts of love my terrible foolish little heart can muster. I want to be your husband, and I want to be a good one. I want to give you everything.”
“Loki, I...I don't know what to say. I'm so tired. I'm still recovering still...confused. But I appreciate your sincerity and your love.” She tried to sound reasonable and untouched, but inside her heart was melting entirely at his heartfelt speech. God, he's good with words, she thought with frustration. Must he be so unbearably disarming... so beautiful?
“I know...I know, darling. I'm so sorry. You know how I ramble. You needn't dwell on anything tonight. Let the burden be mine, as it should be.”
---
In the darkness of their bedchamber Loki reclined staring at the ceiling, mind churning with troubled thoughts until he gazed down upon Lenora. Watching her lovely face always drove the darkness from his mind, replacing it with aching affection...and hope. She slept with her head against his strong arm and her delicate hand curled into his large one. Her deep warm breaths caressed his naked skin. Loki never felt too cold, even on the most frigid of nights, but she had donned her warmest nightgown and still had his velvet cape wrapped around herself tightly. He was touched by how she wouldn't relinquish it all evening, insisting she only did so to drive a stubborn chill from her bones, but he knew better. She wanted him close. Loki pecked her cheek, tucked her hair behind her ear, and slid as silently as possible from her grasp. He had a very important secret task to complete before sunrise.
As he slid away, she whimpered at the loss of his comfort, grasping towards his pillow in her sleep with a need so adorable and genuine that he nearly couldn't bring himself to go. Finally, he carefully wrapped his cape more securely around her shoulders and kissed her reaching hand.
“Be back in a flash, darling,” he said, magicking himself dressed and ready. Then he stepped through a green portal and was gone.
---
In his absence Lenora dreamed of a giant raven's wing circling around her, fragrant with mint and pine and something like the sharp smell of frost in a forest; something like the clean intoxicating tang of Loki's skin. The wing circled her and the world resolved itself into patterns of perfect circles; the large onyx orb of the giant raven's eye, the metal circle of a crown materializing upon her head, the unforgiving iron rings of manacles on her wrists. Beyond the protection of the enormous wing a blizzard raged and she could swear she saw, among the ice, the glitter of shattered glass. In the spinning swirls of snow the ring-script of Heksejotun verses resolved themselves into glowing red halos upon the parchment of the sky. Suddenly distressed, she realized she could no longer interpret them. Turning to the monster guarding her, she watched the satiny iridescent feathers shift from midnight black, to a rich cobalt blue. Meeting the raven's gaze, the once black sphere of its eye now swirled a deep molten crimson, and began to glow. She was afraid of the monster, yet held close to it. Grasping hard into its thick down, she begged, “please, come back to me. Don't leave me alone,” as the throaty howl of the storm became the rumble of an avalanche and the deafening horns of war; the combined cacophony so deep, it vibrated into her depths of her bones with familiar dread.
@gigglingtigger @lokisgoodgirl @sweetsigyn @goblingirlsarah @thedistractedagglomeration @thenerdyoldersister @peaches1958 @unlucky-number-13
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moonflower91 · 2 years
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The Winds of Change and Dragons
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A/N More of my Aemond x sister!OC Saerah. In this, Saerah returns home at long last
"Yes, Naevia?"
“Your Royal father, Princess, has requested your presence back in the Capitol immediately.” Her handmaid, Naevia, relayed to her. She recalled her mother’s handmaids in the capitol, and none of them ever revealed so much skin—Naevia’s pale arms were often bare and her neckline fell far below the collar, and Saerah more than once thought of Alicent and how she'd cast long looks at Naevia for her display of flesh.
“Is he dying?” she asked curiously. It may sound crude, but her father was an old man now, and him dying would not be so shocking.
“No, Princess.” Naevia replied, her long hair fluttering about her shoulders. "The raven made no mention. Only that the Kincalls all of his children and grandchildren to the Capitol, to bear witness to an audience for who shall inherit the Driftwood throne.” Saerah sighed, standing and moving to the window to watch the horizon. Once more, Rhaenyra’s indiscretions are the center of all the problems of the Kingdoms. Foolish tart.
Saerah had little care for Rhaenyra's whelps, only wishing to be free of any mention of them, any bother stemming from their bastardry.
“Lucerys Valeryion will inherit that right.” She replied dully. Brown haired bastard boy that he was, Viserys would never give Driftmark to anyone else. "Although I have heard the boy is more comfortable on land than sea."
“There is a contention, Princess.” Naevia replied softly.
“Oh,” Saerah replied, turning to watch her handmaid with narrowed brows. “Who?”
“Vaemond Valeryion.”
“Oh.” Saerah mumbled again, turning back to the balcony to hide the grin pulling at her lips. So, the Valeryions are not all willfully blind. It would be interesting to witness indeed.  To her knowledge, neither Corlys nor his wife had rejected Rhaenyra's offspring, embracing the three as their sons without a whisper of doubt. What would Princess Rhaenys do, she wondered, when called to either defend or damn dead son's legal children?
It would indeed be quite the spectacle, better fought in the Small Council's chambers than at open Court, perhaps. Oh but it would be sweet to watch Rhaenyra and her sons squirm.
But...Kings Landing was a stranger to her. The people had grown up without her, and she without them. Her brothers and sister were not the same, and Helaena had already bore her idiot brother two children.
Saerah had not been permitted to attend the wedding, her mother plainly telling her that neither the king nor his heir had forgiven her yet. And so, Saerah had been barred from her own sister’s wedding, and the hate inside her towards her father and whore sister only grew more bitter. Perhaps Viserys' intentions had not been so alienating in intent, but Saerah cared not. It was only further proof that the king's love dried up after Rhaenyra.
He must be dying, she realized, if he was inviting his youngest daughter back from her pretty exile.
The Tyrell’s were fine hosts, and excellent company, their halls smelled sweet and their banquets were bountiful. But still, her heart yearned for her pale haired kin, and her beautiful Vexxa.
The pain of being apart from Vexxa matched the pain of being away from Aemond, but in a different way. Being away from Vexxa felt like having no legs to bring her forward, to make her able to run and free. She was trapped without her, forced to stay in place and play the part and grin and smile and act. She was adrift at sea, because she could not swim.
But being away from Aemond was just...Well there really are no words for it. They had never once been apart, not once. Even when they were in the cradle, mother had had to lay them beside each other to settle. For the first three years of life in Highgarden, Saerah had asked her lady’s maid to be her bedmate, so unused she was to sleep alone. It had helped, but it wasn’t the same.
While the ravens between she and her twin could not be put to an end, Saerah missed his voice and wondered how it had changed as he became a man. And his eye! That horrible, wretched wound that Saerah could still imagine with bloody clarity, the one she'd been afraid would fester while she sat in a wheelhouse destined for the Reach. She wished to see him, and know how the wound had healed for herself, not in vague descriptions.
One small, tiny blessing she could count as one she treasured, was that there was no word on Aemond’s marriage prospects. All her childhood, since she understood what marriage was, she had known there was no one else for her but Aemond—they’d wed, they’d have babies, raise them in King’s Landing and all would be well.
When father put those dreams to death, she had been sad, but still certain that Aemond would refuse any other match, just as she would. Though there was no news about any potential bride for her twin, she knew from her end that there had been many suggestions—the Tyrell’s eldest son, Viktor for example. Alas for the handsome featured and sweet tongued Viktor, Saerah would have Aemond or no one, and if by chance they forced her, her children would have no other father but Aemond. If Rhaenyra could pass her bastards off as trueborns, why couldn't she?
She would return to King’s Landing, but she feared the welcome she would receive.
An old memory returned to her then. The last words she'd spoken to her father when he told her that neither her betrothal to Aemond, nor her residence at the Court of King's Landing would continue.
"I will return on dragonback, when you call for me, father." it had been such a simple statement, one that was not meant to challenge or provoke. A simple a statement of fact, for how else would she return, if not on her beloved Vexxa? She was swifter than a carriage, and how else would her family want her to return, if not promptly?
Viserys sighed a long sigh, his eyes turning downward to his table. "Vexxa will be remaining here, child."
The king broke his daughter's heart three times that day. Once in denying her Aemond. Twice in sending her to Highgarden. And thrice in separating her from Vexxa.
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The journey was just as uncomfortable as she'd remembered.
As rickety as a ship, as dull as a septa's droning. But they were close, if the coachman could be believed. When she peered out the window, she could see the distant towers of the Red Keep, but they were still too far away to see much else. That didn't stop her stomach from dancing from nerves.
Six, nearly seven years had passed, and she was afraid of the welcome she would recieve. In her dreams, they were tinged with happiness--mother would kiss her cheek and say she was happy to have her home, Helaena would smile that soft smile she always gave her, Aegon would stay blessedly quiet, and Aemond would wrap her up in his arms as though she had never left him.
But she was a different woman now, and so too had her family changed in their time apart. She feared indifference. Feared that her love had been replaced with someone else. Feared that her beloved Aemond no longer held her close to his heart.
A screech rocked the air of the wheelhouse, and Saerah looked up, eyes wide, but not with terror. She knew that call better than she knew the sound of her name.
Naevia had never seen her lady so gleeful. “Stop the carriage.” She demanded in a rushed whisper. The carriage kept rolling. “STOP THE CARRIAGE!” Her voice thunderous fist beating against the side of the wheel house. Before the wheels could even come to a stop, the princess had thrown open the doors and leapt out, stumbling when he feet met the uneven ground of the earth.
“Princess Saerah!” the riders astride horses shouted in shock. But Saerah did not hear them, her eyes searching the skies.
“Vexxa!" distantly, she heard a roar, and Saerah's heart leapt. "VEXXA!" She screeched with a frenzy she had not known in the last six years. "Come!” she cried in High Valyrian. At the name of the dragon, the guards became unnerved, looking to the skies along with the princess. A screech was the answer, sounding much closer this time. “Vexxa! Obey! Come!”
Finally, she broke through the clouds, and Saerah gaped at the sight of her sweet girl. Her blue scales flashed proudly in the sunlight like polished sapphires, her winds stretching wide as she glided gracefully to the earth, a short run from where Saerah had halted her traveling party.
When the blue and green dragon finally landed, she screeched into the air so loudly, furiously, that three horses fled. Saerah took in her beautiful girl. She’d grown three times as large as the last she’d seen her—her wings so full and wide, her jaws big enough to snap a horse in half.
Saerah hadn’t seen anything so beautiful in six years. “Calm, Vexxa, shhhh.” She hummed in her mothertongue as she approached. “Calm. Vexxa, shhhh.” When finally Vexxa allowed her to touch her hand to her snout, Saerah could have wept. Her scales were as hot as coals, just as she remembered, but soft as well. And her beautiful eyes, deep and dark as obsidian but filled with a spirit, a fire that Saerah had always recognized. "Let's fly, sweet girl." she whispered, pressing her forehead to Vexxa's snout. "Let's fly home."
At the end of the road, King's Landing shook once more with Vexxa's screech, and the common folk who looked to the skies were the first in King's Landing to see the young Princess Saerah mounted atop her dragon, flying in circles around King's Landing.
From his chamber window, Aemond Targaryen watched the scene with a smile, his eye trailing after Saerah and Vexxa, her long pale hair flying behind her. Saerah had always had a taste for a little bit of spectacle.
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stellar-snz · 3 months
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OC: Asami
I posted this here before but deleted it for some reason I can't remember, but here's one of my OCs. All of my friends say that she acts and looks like a dommy mommy but in reality, she's a huge girlfailure
Name: Asami Nickname: She can be called Asa, Mimi, Sami, or Ami, but special people can call her “Salami”, “Pastrami” or “Nori” Age: 23 Eye color: Red Hair color: Silvery Blonde Pronouns: She/Her Sexual and Romantic orientation: Graysexual Demiromantic Relationships: Asami is in a polyamorous relationship with both RD and Ruolan
(snz stuff) ✦ Asami has a pollen intolerance. ✦ She hides, holds back or stifles her sneezes because she thinks it's one of her many glitches. ✦ RD and Ruolan scold her for stifling or holding back because in all honesty, it just makes her sneeze more. ✦ Speaking of glitches, one of her glitches is her faulty battery. It could appear to be at a high percentage, but she'd end up suddenly shutting down at a random place. ✦ Her sneezes, as described by Ruolan are high pitched" and "girly" ✦ Her sneezes end in "-iew!" sounds (example: hiH'schIEW!!) ✦ Since she sees most patrons in the library do it, it's always been a habit of hers to cover whenever she sneezes. ✦ She always brings around a handkerchief to sneeze into. She prefers them anyways since they feel much softer than tissues.
(Backstory) Asami was a prototype made by a company named Obscura. She was originally designed to be a robomaid for those of the elite class, having no purpose other than to just be shown off, pick up after, and fetch items for their master. However, due to her disposition, she was scrapped and abandoned after the scientists deemed her to be a failure.
She was out of comission for quite some time, but was rescued by a girl named Ruolan and a fellow bot named RD when they accidentally discovered her despite their initial plan to practice their craft by spray painting the walls. Because of looters, she had to be brought into parts-and-services to get replacements for the parts she was missing.
After getting back up on her feet again, Asami found a job at a local library and assists the sweet old woman there with returning books to their shelves, helping people find books, cataloguing the library's resources, and brewing tea for the old lady
(Appearance) Asami is a robot that stands at 5 feet and 4 inches. She has a pale complexion but enhances it with red-colored cosmetics. Most notably overly dramatic eye-shadow that reaches up and spreads towards her temples. She also has a little heart shaped mole on her right breast.
(Personality) Since she lacks friends and is unwilling to go to places outside of Ruolan's apartment and the library she works at, she's socially inept and comes across as someone who is uptight, cold, and aloof. She also retains her original quick-tempered personality from her creation and is rather opinionated, unable to hold her tongue when someone makes rude or lewd remarks towards her or her loved ones.
However, Asami also has an insecure side to her, herself, believing that her worth is based on how much people like her. She also believes that her mismatched and "scary" appearance is unsightly and gets reasonably upset and refuses to talk when someone points out a flaw or makes fun of her. When it comes to relationships, Asami instantly latches onto the first person to treat her nicely, hence why she is very protective of Ruolan and RD. She doesn't have too much friends either, so she gets upset if the two blow off her invitations to go out, giving into jealousy and paranoiac thoughts easily.
When it comes to her likes, Asami is very much into fashion and make up, often spending her free time watching tutorials and practicing on either herself or Ruolan. She also likes to recreate outfits she sees online by looking for and purchasing clothing with similar styles and colors at the thrift store. Due to her love of this stuff, RD has dubbed her the "fashionista" of the their group.
In terms of dislikes, she doesn't like crowds, tight spaces, rain, loud sounds, and the goose in the park that keeps trying to bite her or steal her leg.
(heehee pics of my lil robot daughter) FRONT, BACK, SIDES
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CLOSEUP ON THE FRONT AND BACK
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HAIRSTYLES (She usually wears her hair down, but ties it up into a ponytail or bun if she really wants to)
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BATTERY (Blue means "optimal" (100%-60%), yellow means "satisfactory" (59% to 16%) and red means "low battery" (15% and lower)
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Credits HERE because I still can't draw for shit and I ain't using AI
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murielmierch · 10 months
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Gen × OC (possibly hinting that she is Hyoga's sister). Part 1/?
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Действия происходят до окаменения! Вместо имени моего OC вы можете заменить любое другое.
• Collidgenia was a very tall (198 cm.) and muscular girl with a bunch of tattoos on her arms, chest and back, which is why Gen, when he saw her, who arrived on a motorcycle, from the cafe window, thought she was one of the local bikers. He thought that such biker gangs already seemed old-fashioned, but for some reason this image interested him.
• He was even more interested in the girl's eyes and shins. She had dark reflective goggles on her upper face, but her lower legs were missing. Instead of shoes, there were just metal prostheses with a bunch of details *
• When she got her favorite muffin and went to the exit, she collided with someone and her wallet fell out. Gen picked it up and wanted to return it, but she had already left. He searched around the neighborhood and, on tips from local bikers, came to some old temple, where a crowd had already gathered. It looks like some kind of fight broke out here and there was a Collidgenia at its epicenter. Gen already wanted to tactfully and imperceptibly leave, but then some pretty girl (most likely Collie's sister) marked a big wallet in Asagiri's hands and attracted the attention of the crowd, calling our mentalist a thief.
• After hitting her opponent for the last time, Collidgenia hurriedly approached Asagiri and was about to use force, but Gen suddenly addressed her respectfully as a lady and honestly said that he just found him in a cafe, adding a couple of compliments to his words. He didn't expect it to have such an effect on her. Collie's rage abruptly changed to embarrassment, because no one usually showers her with compliments (
• The girl checked the contents of the purse and decided to thank Asagiri. She and her sister invited him to their home. It turned out that they live in a rather large house of a traditional Japanese look. Collie said that the house and the whole plot of land belonged to a cousin.
• Passing through their site, Gen curiously examined the trees, flowers and wooden houses. He said that for an old village, these buildings look somehow too well-groomed. To this statement, Carole, Collie's sister, said that this was their garden, not a village.
At that moment, the whole image of the dirty biker girl Colligenia in Asagiri's imagination crumbled to dust🤣. But it became clear to him where she got the money for such a pretty bike and prostheses.
• Gen later learned that Collie, in addition to her disability, also had mirror touch synesthesia (which is why she wears glasses all the time). Once, in her childhood, a boy told her that with such a condition she could not become a fighter, but this only angered Collie more.
• Asagiri was not always able to fool her with her lies, but when he did, she was only too glad to be deceived (due to synesthesia, she is often unable to feel the emotions of people she sees as her own). Collie was so energetic that Gen sometimes forgot about her disability.
• At the first meeting, Gen noticed her reaction to compliments and now used them as a weapon when he needed something from her. Not all of these compliments were mere flattery. Asagiri increasingly caught himself thinking that his words about the rounded features, beautiful eyes and soft hair of the Collie were not a lie at all)
• Gen was noticeably shorter than her, but for some reason, next to him, Collidgenia felt like a sweet and defenseless girl. Probably because Asagiri created around herself the image of a cunning and villain, while she herself was more open and straightforward. However, over time, Collie began to adopt some of his mannerisms, sometimes acting childish when they were alone.
If you read this, then you are my hero💞
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FNAF Headcanons: The Original 5 Missing Children
Gabriel
Gabe died at age 12, making him the oldest of the original five children. He was the second one of them to be killed, and was stuffed into the suit of Freddy Fazbear.
He was very heavy-set and muscular, and sang in his church’s choir. Despite his imposing stature, he wasn’t one to push his weight around.
One could often find him giving the smaller children rides on his shoulders/back, or organizing games for everyone to play. He’d also help younger kids win tickets.
He was raised to value fairness above all else. He regularly stood up to the local bullies, encouraging them to pick on someone their own size.
Gabriel was the second one to die because he rushed to protect the other kids when Susie was killed. He feels guilty he couldn’t save anyone that day.
Jeremy
Jeremy died at age 10, making him tied for the second oldest of the five children. He was the third one to die, and was stuffed into the suit of Bonnie the Bunny.
He had his birthday at Freddy’s every single year, as his parents were rich enough to buy out the restaurant for a day. Every kid in town got invited.
Despite his privilege, the boy was very generous, even offering to share his birthday party each year with another, poorer child who was born on the same day.
Being average and not particularly sporty, he took to music and theatric arts in school. This got him picked on for “acting like a girl” a lot, but he didn’t mind.
Jeremy actually fought to protect everyone else, but is ashamed he failed to do so. He tries to focus on the happiness he had on his last day alive, but it’s hard.
Fritz
Fritz died at age 9 making him the third oldest of the original missing children. He was the fourth one to be killed, and his body was stuffed in the suit of Foxy.
Tall and athletic, he was the fastest kid in school, and tried to hide that he was a huge dork about all things nautical. It was pretty obvious to everyone who met him he was obsessed with pirates, though.
His pops was deployed in the navy and he wanted to be a sailor like him when he grew up. Poor lad had never even seen the sea. It was the one thing he wanted to do before he died.
He was an odd combination of introverted and devious. Being so easily forgotten about was what made him great at stealing tokens from other kids or cheating the machines to give him jackpots.
Fritz tried to run away from the killer, but was trapped by a locked door. He met his demise swiftly and feels awful for being such a coward when faced with true danger.
Susie
Susie died at age 7, making her the youngest of the original missing children. She was the first one to be killed, and was stuffed into the suit of Chica the Chicken.
This bubbly young lady enjoyed all things colorful and sweet. What she loved most of all was her puppy, who she named Sprinkles. He was unfortunately hit by a car…
After this traumatic event, she developed pica. She began eating various things like crayons, chalk, modeling clay, and even her dog’s old food. Her parents had to lock the cabinets in their house.
She was lured along with the other four children, when the yellow rabbit told her that he had found Sprinkles. This made her look up from Fruity Maze for the first time all day.
Susie was looking for her furry friend all over the back room, when the killer took the opportunity to strike. Her ghost watched in vain as the others met their demise one by one.
Cassidy
Cassidy died at age 10, making her tied as the second oldest of the original five children. She was the last one to die and was stuffed into the suit of Golden Freddy.
She’s a gutsy tomboy who struggles with anger issues and impulsivity. When she ended up getting into trouble and losing friends due to this, she grew spiteful.
She shared a birthday with one of the richest kids in town. Though the boy happily shared his position as birthday child she often felt resentful for having to share to begin with.
Her grandpa used to take her out fishing to teach her about patience and letting go. The girl would never admit to the old man she enjoyed those afternoons.
Cassidy put up a fight until the end, wanting to give this killer five times the pain he caused to all of them. That vengefulness never died with her body.
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floralsymphony · 5 months
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The Mystical Powers Hidden in Everyday Flowers
In the hustle and bustle of everyday life, we often overlook the enchanting world that surrounds us – the world of flowers. Beyond their aesthetic appeal, these botanical wonders carry a mystical aura, believed to harbor unique powers and energies. In this exploration, we'll uncover the mystical secrets hidden within everyday flowers, inviting you to embrace the magical potential that blooms in your very midst. As the sweet older lady that we met at George Thomas Florist tells us the story about the Mystical Powers of the flower that she heard from her grandparents, it inspired me to write this article about the flower power. As exemplified by this family-owned flower shop in Indianapolis, George Thomas Florist, delivering flowers since 1920, the enchantment of these blooms has endured across generations, weaving a timeless tapestry of floral wonder.
The Language of Blooms: Flowers have long been associated with a symbolic language, a means of communication that transcends words. From ancient civilizations to modern times, cultures worldwide have assigned specific meanings to different flowers. Delve into the rich tapestry of this floral language, where each bloom whispers a message of love, protection, or even warning.
Energetic Vibrations: Some belief systems suggest that flowers emit distinct energetic vibrations, influencing the energy fields around them. Explore the idea that certain flowers carry energies conducive to healing, balance, and positivity. Learn how incorporating specific blooms into your surroundings can enhance your well-being and create a more harmonious environment.
Floral Feng Shui: Much like the ancient practice of Feng Shui, the strategic placement of flowers within your home is thought to invite auspicious energies. Uncover the art of Floral Feng Shui, where the arrangement of blooms is believed to attract prosperity, love, and tranquility. Discover how simple floral adjustments can harmonize the energy flow in your living spaces.
Aromatherapy of Flowers: Beyond their visual allure, flowers contribute to the world of aromatherapy. Each fragrance holds a unique power, influencing mood and emotions. Delight in the scents of lavender for relaxation, rose for love, and eucalyptus for clarity. Embrace the idea that the simple act of surrounding yourself with these floral fragrances can positively impact your mental and emotional state.
Herbal Magic: Explore the mystical world of herbalism and the magical properties attributed to certain flowers. From warding off negative energies to attracting good fortune, delve into the age-old practices of using flowers for spellwork and rituals. Unearth the ancient wisdom that views flowers as potent allies in harnessing natural energies.
As you embark on this journey into "The Mystical Powers Hidden in Everyday Flowers," allow yourself to see beyond the petals and stems. Embrace the magical potential that surrounds you daily, whether in a carefully arranged bouquet or the wildflowers that grace your path. By understanding and appreciating the mystical aspects of everyday flowers, you may find a deeper connection to the natural world and unlock a source of beauty, inspiration, and positive energy in your life.
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