#citrine shine

[mmmatchasims]

And I know that I don't talk a lot But I know that you don't care a lot

#ts4 legacy #ts4 storytelling #ts4 #berry sweet sims #pastel rainbowcy #dream bpr #dream gen 3 #hibiscus dream #citrine shine #ugh this shot is so cute

[salsasprecure]

and here’s my yellow cures!! yellow is my fav color so this was a joy to work on

#precure fanseries #precure #pretty cure #cure blume #cure colada #cure latte #cure hope #cure shine #cure citrine #oops i have two cure hopes

[theavidsimmer]

Not So Berry 2 - Generation Four - Quartz

and that’s a wrap on the morganite generation! now it’s Esme’s time to shine

#and by shine I mean be a complete disaster because in gameplay I'm halfway through citrine and esme was an absolute wreck of a parent #ts4 gameplay #the sims 4 gameplay #nsb2 #not so berry 2 #ts4 #mik's gameplay #the hale family #quartz

[raadhfathi]

Find out how we can design a bespoke ring individual to you, as a special gift or to mark a special occasion!💛 Create your very own bespoke wedding ring designs that will sit perfectly with any engagement ring and personalize the quality of the exchange of the wedding rings in ways that machine made jewelry never can. If you are looking for matching bespoke wedding rings for both men and women or even to fit with a bespoke engagement ring - Raadhafathi is the right choice for you.✨ #jewelry #jewelrydesigner #jewelryaddict #weddinginspiration #weddingrings #silver #white #shine #citrine #bluesapphire #gift #giftideas #gemstone #ring #maldives #byraadhafathi (at Maldives) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cja0hNYJ0R0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#jewelry #jewelrydesigner #jewelryaddict #weddinginspiration #weddingrings #silver #white #shine #citrine #bluesapphire #gift #giftideas #gemstone #ring #maldives #byraadhafathi

[mediumgayitalian]

Will wears earrings that glint in the sunlight.

Nico is very aware of them.

He’s never seen anything like them before. Bianca wore earrings, little citrine gems that dotted both earlobes, and Hazel wears little hoops in each ear. Piper has dozens of beaded earrings she made herself. Annabeth wears little owl charms. Percy has a diamond stud, Connor’s ears are pierced all over, and Lou Ellen has gauges she’s slowly stretching out. Most people in camp have a piercing or two, really, some of them done by the Apollo or Aphrodite campers, and really sunny days they glint together like the massive disco ball that spun over the slot machines of the Lotus.

But Will’s earrings are different.

There’s no…pokey part, is the best way Nico can describe it. Each piece is a delicate gold chain, maybe two inches long each, with a thin blue sapphire hanging off one end. He threads them through the tiny holes in his lobes, and they dangle, glittering every time he moves. The sapphires refract the light when he tucks back his hair, shining an array of tiny rainbows on his neck, on his jaw.

He is distracted by them, often.

“You’re staring.”

Nico blinks, twitching back to his body. The blue sapphires he’d been staring at are replaced with blue eyes, twinkling with amusement, and he flushes.

“I was — spaced out.”

“Mhm.” Will turns back to his arts & crafts project, dragging a brushful of lavender paint over stained wood. A jewelry box, by the looks of it. “If by spaced out, you mean staring at me.”

Nico returns resolutely to his own project. His is much less delicate than Will’s — the sheath he has strapped to his calf at all times broke, last week, and he’s felt naked without his dagger — and there’s a warp in the leather, where his attention slipped. He focuses on smoothing it.

“Not on purpose.”

“No?” Coming from anyone else, the teasing tone of voice would have him raising his shoulders, twisting his face. But from Will it’s — tolerable, somehow. Perhaps it’s the hand that rests gently on his wrist. “You space out at me a lot, then. Crazy coincidence.”

Nico stars at the freckly, tanned hand, waiting for it to move. It doesn’t. Will keeps it there, callused fingers brushing gentle circles on the base of his thumb, dipping and swooping along with his quiet humming.

Nico swallows. “You’re — distracting.”

Will’s smile spreads slowly across his face; stilted, almost, like he’d tried to bite it back.

“How?”

“You’re —” Nico gestures, vaguely, at all of him. Will’s smile grows, and his cheeks slowly grow pink, blonde ringlets falling out of place and curtaining his face.

“I’m?” he presses.

His voice is soft, near silent; searching, prodding. Hoping. Nico’s breath hitches, and his palms sweat, and Will’s gentle tracing pauses, briefly. He bites his lip, worrying the chapped skin, breathing quick; in, out, in, out. In a slow, calculated movement, watching Nico carefully, carefully, out of the corner of his eyes, he slides their palms together, fingers resting loosely in the spaces of Nico’s open, twitching hand.

“…Is this okay?”

Nico feels lightheaded. He’s sure his palms are clammy, although he can’t tell against Will’s. He gnaws at his lip again. Nico’s exhales are quick, short.

He curls his fingers until they rest on Will’s cracked knuckles.

“You’re striking,” he says quietly.

Ducking his head, Will turns back to his painting. He dips his brush in a deep, blooming green, now, tracing it along the edge of the lavender.

He’s smiling.

#me back on my will wears threader earrings agenda #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #heroes of olympus #hoo #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo/will solace #solangelo #nico/will #will/nico #soft solangelo #100 ways #100 ways to say i love you #my writing #fic #longpost

[moonchildstyles]

I saw you were talking about curious gazes stuff.... is citrine a part of that group 🧍‍♀️

wordcount: 2.6k+

——————

Parker kept his eyes on his phone, rereading his new text notification over and over even when the bell above his head jingled as he walked through the door of the record shop. 

Annie asked if he was going to be at Vera's party tonight. She asked him if she could go with him.

His cheeks almost ached from the width of the smile on his face. Maybe tonight would be the night—maybe he'd finally get the courage to ask her on a real date instead of all these friendly group outings. 

Parker pulled his gaze up only when he heard the familiar voice of the shop attendant, catching the wide smile on the man's face. It was the same man every time Parker came in, his name starting with an H (it was Harry, or Henry, or something in that universe but he could never remember and felt too shy to ask for clarification at this point). He knew so much about all of the records and the artists behind them, it was always interesting when Parker wasn't in too much of a rush and could talk to the guy. 

"Good afternoon! How are you?" he asked, the glimmering fabric of his top shimmering from the light spilling in from the large windows. 

"I'm good, man. Thanks," Parker greeted, feeling infectiously happy at the moment, "How are you?" 

"I'm doing really well, thank you," Harry (maybe?) said, dimples in his cheeks, "Are y'looking for anything specific today?" 

Shrugging, Parker shook his head. "Not really, just wanted to look and see if I can find something new." 

Harry perked up at the sound of something new being in need, a dark curl falling over his forehead. "We got a bunch of second hand records in the other day. It's mostly older albums, but 'm sure there's something you'd like. Let me know if you want any help or have any questions." 

Typically, Parker wouldn't mind asking a few questions, especially about the more vintage artists and pressings around the shop, but his mind was still buried deep in his phone. "I will, man. Thanks." 

With that, Parker drifted between the shelves that marked out the aisles in the small shop. Huddled between a pair of shelves holding different records and elaborate displays with special edition pressings, he pulled his phone out once again. Annie's thread was still open, her two texts shining in a beautiful, shining, hopeful blue. 

ur going to v's tngiht right ? 

if u want we could go together :) 

He'd never seen a string of letters look so perfect. It was like he was reading poetry. 

His fingers held a tremor as he texted her back. He attempted to play it cool, but of course he wanted to go with her. He would have given anything to enter that party under the label of being together with Annie. 

Sure! I have to do some homework tonight, but I'll be heading over there at around eight. Does that work for you? 

Shooting off the message, Parker felt conflicted about staring and waiting for the messages to be read with another set of preemptive bubbles filling where her next message would be, or locking his phone and not being so desperate for a single text. 

When the receipts didn't immediately switch to show that it had been read with another time stamp, Parker forced himself to lock the screen and shove his phone back into his pocket. Around him, colorful records asked to steal his attention, to put him back on track and remind him why he came to the shop in the first place. 

It was his sister's birthday next week and he wanted to pick out a couple of records for her since their mom was gifting her a player as well. (And, there was an album or two Parker had been looking at that he really hoped the shop carried). Forcing his mind off of his phone, he took his time perusing through the shelfs for anything special he knew she liked before he would start looking through the crates for something vintage she could brag to her friends about. 

Across the space, the bell dinged again, another customer stopping by. 

Instead of the usual greeting Harry offered to all guests, Parker heard a giddy sigh of, "Sunshine!" ring from the head of the shop. 

Lifting his gaze from where he was examining a record cover laden with roses and glimmering gold font, he saw a woman with a beaming smile making her way towards the register area. A plastic takeaway bag hung from her elbow, her hair pulled back with her outfit consisting of a logo'd shirt and black pants. The logo was familiar, from a restaurant deeper in the plaza that had margaritas that were a little too strong but cheap enough it didn't matter. 

"Hi, Harry," she greeted, opening her arms as Harry met her halfway and reciprocated her hug. 

The plastic bag crinkled over his shoulder but neither of them paid the food any mind as they wrapped around each other. Quiet whispers were shared between them, Harry's curls creating a small curtain so Parker couldn't even see what kind of reaction these secrets pulled from the newcomer. 

Instead, Parker only got to hear the sound of her laugh as she drew away from the hug. He felt a bit bad as he kept watching, but even when they shared a small kiss, he couldn't pull his eyes away. 

Harry had mentioned more than once these small details about his wife, interjecting that she loved a certain album, or that she recommended something new to him that he was now letting others in on. Truthfully, with who Harry was—so eccentric, extroverted in an introverted way, and seemingly from a different time—Parker had imagined his wife to be completely different than to who was standing before him. 

This woman seemed... normal. 

Not that it was a bad thing, or that Harry wasn't, but she wasn't draped in lace and gauze with jewels and glitter following her every step. She looked like she belonged in this century. 

He turned his attention back to the record in his hand a split second before she would have caught his stare. Though there was a track list right before him, he didn't read a single word, feeling a bit flustered knowing he had just witnessed what was most likely a private moment between the two of them. 

Parker couldn't help the way his mind went back to Annie. 

Would she visit him during her lunch? Would they embrace like that, without a care? What kind of secrets would she share with him? 

He couldn't help the minute check he made to his phone screen. 

No new notifications. 

Folding his phone back into his pocket, Parker directed his focus back onto his shopping. Meandering back towards the crates, he started flicking through the alphabetized stacks. 

With only a quiet album playing on the shop's record player—something crackly and old he didn't recognize but didn't mind—, he could hear the murmurings of the couple now huddled behind the register counter together. Though he didn't mean to eavesdrop, he didn't particularly try hard not to either. 

Straining an ear, he heard their hushed conversation over the music and quiet rustling of the plastic bag. 

"I can come back later, or save this for dinner," the woman said, "I don't want you to get in trouble, honey." 

"'S fine, dove, really," Harry insisted, his smile audible, "I know him—he's really nice. He won't mind, I promise. If he needs my help, I'll help." 

"But, H—" she tried again, only to be abruptly cut off. 

Maybe it was the romance on his mind, but Parker wondered if the soft sound he heard was another quiet kiss they shared. Harry's tactic to get his wife to let go of the argument. 

"It'll be fine, I promise. I've missed you all day, I don't want you to leave already." 

A plume of laughter could be heard alongside the laying out of styrofoam containers. The scent of warm food drifted through the shop. Parker's stomach piqued at the smell, reminding him the last time he ate was during breakfast. 

Maybe Annie would want to stop and get some dinner before the party. Or go for a late night snack after. 

Harry's wife's laugh pulls him out of the possibilities he was beginning to churn before he'd even received a text back. 

"We spent all morning together before you came here," she countered, her tone a gentle tease. 

"So?" Harry argued, quietly serious under his own joking tone, "'S not enough, and I've told you that before." 

A beat passed, the rustling of the bag filling the moment. "Well, I only have forty-five minutes left of my lunch, so you better make the most of it." 

Another set of hushed conversation sounded, words too quiet for him to hear. Parker figured with the scolding Harry! that left the wife's lips, he didn't really want to hear what had made them go quiet anyway. 

A vibration from his back pocket had Parker practically scrambling to reach for his phone and get the screen to light up.

Annie had texted him back. 

sounds good (: 

if its isnt to late by the time we r leavig we should get food or something 

Parker's heart just about soared right out of his chest towards the record player, the beats wishing to play their own love song in Annie's name. 

They were going to get food or something tonight, just like he hoped. 

Was this love? 

I was thinking the same thing! I'll see if I can finish up any sooner than eight, but I'll let you know when I'm on my way:) 

 There was so much Parker needed to do. 

Now the priority wasn't the set of essays he was planning on editing before he got ready for Vera's. These plants were now shifted, urging him to skip cleaning his apartment and instead rushing home to do his work then agonize over getting ready for the remainder of the evening. The cowlick on the crown of his head that had his hair sticking in weird places after every shower was going to be his prime enemy today. 

Focusing on the records before him, Parker skimmed through before grabbing a Fleetwood Mac album his sister would either love or let become a statement piece about how much of an old soul she was. Turning back to the shelves he reached for a foiled album, the band's name one he recognized but only vaguely through his sister's Spotify. He wasn't familiar with the artwork, but hopefully this was a good one. 

These two would have to do for now. If he needed to find a third, he'd do it later. Annie was waiting for him (in six hours, but the urgency still mattered). 

Taking his tiny stack to the register, he saw the bubbly couple huddled together sharing a container of French fries with their own respective sandwiches. When the woman realized Parker was approaching, she startled in her spot, immediately moving to get their meal out of the way of the register. 

"Sorry, sorry," she said, covering her mouth as she swallowed down the bite she'd taken just as he emerged from the shelves. Harry watched with a fond quirk to his lips though he didn't make any move to assist her move. 

"'S alright, love," he attempted to soothe her. While Harry was always purely friendly and full of a kind and giving spirit, Parker had never heard his voice take on the notes it did now. This man was in love with his wife—everything she did was special to him. 

"I don't mind," Parker jumped in, settling his records on the clear area of the desk, "I get it." 

"See, (Y/N)?" Harry pointed out, though he did begin straightening up and tapping at the register keys, "I told you he was cool." 

The woman—(Y/N), the name said with a reverence—didn't pay Harry's argument any mind, continuing to move their boxes out of the way for Parker. Harry shook his head, his green eyes lighting up with every glance her way. 

"You find everything alright?" Harry asked, sliding the records towards the inlaid scanner on the desk. Before Parker had a chance to answer, he saw Harry's face light up when he spotted the Fleetwood Mac record. "I didn't know you listened to them! Is this your favorite album?" 

Holding up the beige cover, complete with a familiar woman in pointe shoes and an unfamiliar man at her side, Harry looked to him with expectant eyes. 

"Um, this is actually a gift for my sister," Parker explained, feeling a bit bashful now that he let down Harry. "It's her birthday next week, and my mom is getting her a record player. I don't really listen to older music." 

Casting his gaze down at the album cover, Harry pursed his lips. "I guess it did come out in '77—feels like it was only last year, I forget sometimes." 

Parker canted his head. That was one of those things about Harry that had him assuming he was meant to exist long before this time. It wasn't the first time he made a comment like that. 

"If she likes that album," (Y/N) piped up from where she had stepped back to lean against the back counter, "you should get her some Stevie Nicks albums. She'd love them." 

Harry perked up with a smile on his lips, though he stayed quiet as he typed a few numbers into the register before the total popped up on Parker's end. 

"She's the singer from Fleetwood Mac, right?" Parker asked, sliding his card into the reader, "I didn't know she had her own music." 

"She's the best," Harry interjected, his words a clear praise of his idol, "Even if your sister doesn't get into it, y'should still try it out. Y'won't regret it." 

Maybe Annie would like some of this kind of music. They could have a song if they found one they both liked.

The idea had Parker giddy once more, itching to head home and prepare for the night.

"I'll have to come back then and see what you recommend," Parker said, grabbing his carefully bagged records with the receipt tucked inside, "Thanks, Harry. It was nice to kind of meet you, by the way"—his eyes moving to Harry's wife—"He talks about you all the time." 

The smile that stretched along her features was like the sunshine her husband named her after—bright and eclipsing. 

Though they were small, the things Parker picked up between the two had his heart softening in places he didn't know could soften. A love like that must be consuming in the sweetest way.

Annie was all that was swirling through his mind. 

"He does?" (Y/N) asked, her eyes drifting towards her husband. He only shrugged in response, a bashful set to his features with blushing cheeks. 

"See you next time," Harry said, biting back his dimpled smile as he bid Parker goodbye. 

Tossing a wave over his shoulder, Parker drifted towards the door, his precious phone sliding into his hand on instinct. His heart jumped when he saw a text from Annie. 

perf ! excited to see u (: 

His heart rocketed into his throat at the small string of words. Just before he left the shop, Parker didn't think before he was looking over his shoulder and catching Harry pressing a loving kiss to his wife's lips. 

He wanted a love like that. Hopefully, that will start tonight. 

——————

:))))) thank u sm for all the excitement about this pov I hope everyone likes it! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and please send in any fun ideas!

#writing #anon #harry #harry styles #harry one shot #harry imagine #harry blurb #harry fluff #witch harry #harry x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #witch harry styles #harry styles x reader #as it was #love on tour #harrys house #satellite

[greenwitchcrafts]

December 2023 witch guide

Full moon: December 26th

New moon: December 12th

Sabbats: Yule December 21st-January 1st

December Cold Moon

Known as: Drift Clearing Moon, Frost Exploding Tree Moon, Moon of the Popping Trees, Hoar Frost Moon, Snow Moon, Winter, Aerra Geola, Maker Moon, Heilagmanoth, Long Night's Moon, Oak Moon, Wintermonat, Moon of the Long Night, Little Spirit Moon, Wolf Moon & When the Deer Shed Their Antlers Moon

Element: Fire

Zodiac: Sagittarius & Capricorn

Nature spirits: Snow, Storm, & Winter Tree faeries

Deities: Athena, Fates, Hades, Hathor, Hecate, Ixchel, Minerva, Neith, Norns, Osiris & Persephone

Animals: Bear, deer, horse & mouse

Birds: Robin, rook & snowy owl

Trees: Fir, Holly & Pine

Herbs: Bay, cedar, chamomile, cinnamon, English ivy, evergreen, fir, frankincense, holly, mistletoe, myrrh, pine & sage

Flowers: Christmas catus, holly & poinsettia

Scents: Cedar, cinnamon, frankincense, ginger, lilac, myrrh, nutmeg, patchouli, pine, rose geranium, rosemary, saffron, violet & wintergreen

Stones: Bloodstone, blue topaz, cat's eye, garnet, jacinth, obsidian, peridot, turquoise, zircon, ruby & serpentine

Colors: Black, blood red, gold, green, red, silver, black & white

Energy: Alchemy, darkness, endurance, death & re-birth, higher education, publications, reaching out to others, religion, spiritual paths, travel & truth

Today, December’s full Moon is most commonly known as the Cold Moon—a Mohawk name that conveys the frigid conditions of this time of year, when cold weather truly begins to grip us.

This full Moon has also been called the Long Night Moon (Mohican), as it rises during the “longest” nights of the year, near the December winter solstice. This name is doubly fitting because December’s full Moon shines above the horizon for a more extended period than most full Moons.

In Europe, ancient pagans called the December full Moon the “Moon Before Yule,” in honor of the Yuletide festival celebrating the return of the sun heralded by winter solstice.

Yule

Also known as: Alban, Arthan & Winter Solstice

Season: Winter

Symbols: Baskets of clove studded fruit, Christmas catus,  decorated evergreen trees, evergreen boughs, gifts, gold pillar candles, hung mistletoe, poinsettias, wreaths & Yule logs/small Yule log with three candles

Colors: Gold, green, orange, red, silver, white &yellow

Oils/incense: Bayberry, cedar, cinnamon, frankincense. Myrrh & pine

Animals: Bear, boar, deer (stag), pig, squirrel & tiger

Birds: Eagle, goose, kingfisher, lapwing, owl robin & wren

Stones: Bloodstone, garnet, ruby, alexandrite, blue topaz,  cat's eye, citrine, clear quartz, diamond, emerald, green tourmaline, jet, kunzite & pearl

Foods: Caraway cakes, cookies, eggnog, fruits, ginger tea, nuts, pork, spiced cider, turkey, wassail & lamb's wool (ale,  sugar, nutmeg & roasted apples)

Herbs/plants: Bay, bayberry, birch, blessed thistle, cedar, chestnut, cinnamon, evergreens, fir, frankincense, ginger, holly, ivy, juniper, mistletoe, moss, myrrh, oak, pine, rosemary, sage, valerian & yellow cedar

Flowers: Chamomile, poinsettia & yarrow

Goddesses: Alcyone, Aphrodite, Ameratasu, Bona Dea, Brighid, Cailleach Bheur, Demeter, Diana, Fortuna, Frau Holle, Frau Perchta, Frigga, Gaia, Hel, Great Mother, Idunn, Isis, Ishtar, Kolyada, La Befana, Maat & Tiamat

Gods: Apollo, Attis, Balder, Bragi, Dionysus, Divine Child, Green Man, Helios, Holly King, Horned one, Horus, Janus, Lord of Misrule, Lugh, Mabon, Marduk, Mithras, Odin, Ra, Saturn & Surya

Issues Intentions & Powers: Darkness, divination, light, messages/omens, purification, rebirth/renewal & transformation

Spellwork: Earth magick, happiness, harmony, love & peace

Activities:

• Set up & decorate a Yule altar

• Clean, organize & cleanse before decorating your home

• Make witch's balls to hang on your tree (protective & pretty!)

• Decorate & bless & Yule tree

• Stay awake until dawn to observe the cycles of nature

• Give gifts tomyour family & friends

• Donate your time or helpful items to charity

• Go caroling

• Hang mistletoe in your doorways

• Make Wassail

• Prepare a Yule Log

• Host a Yule feast

• Craft your own decorative wreath

• Decorate your house with Yule colored candles

• Welcome the Sun

• Go on nature walks & leave offerings to nature

• Meditate & reflect on the passing year

“Yule” comes from Old English geol, which shares a history with the equivalent word from Old Norse, jól. Both these words referred to a midwinter festival centered around the winter solstice, which traditionally marked the halfway point of the winter season. After the solstice—the shortest day of the year—the days again begin to grow longer, so it’s thought that Yule was a celebration of the re-appearance of the Sun &the fertile land’s rebirth. 

The celebration of Yule is one of the oldest winter celebrations in the world. Ancient people were hunters & spent most of their time outdoors. The seasons & weather played a significant part in their lives. The customs and traditions associated with it vary widely.

Scholars have connected the original celebrations of Yule to the Wild Hunt, the god Odin, and the heathen Anglo-Saxon Mōdraniht ("Mothers' Night")

Some believe it marks the rebirth of the Sun (the God) from the Earth (the Goddess) & the cold days of winter will soon begin to wane. The Goddess is seen in her virgin Maiden aspect

In towns and cities throughout Sweden during the Christmas season, large goats are constructed out of straw. It is thought that the tradition originated in ancient times, perhaps as a tribute to the god Thor, who was said to ride in a chariot pulled by goats. In Sweden the goat came to be associated with the Christmas celebration, and the Yule goat is now considered by many to be a companion or counterpart to Santa Claus.

Related festivals:

Christmas- An annual festival commemorating the birth of Jesus Christ as the son of God, primarily observed on December 25th

Hanukkah- A Jewish festival commemorating the recovery of Jerusalem & subsequent rededication of the Second Temple at the beginning of the Maccabean Revolt against the Seleucid Empire in the 2nd century BCE.

Hanukkah is observed for eight nights & days, starting on the 25th day of Kislev according to the Hebrew calendar, which may occur at any time from late November to late December in the Gregorian calendar. The festival is observed by lighting the candles of a candelabrum with nine branches, commonly called a menorah or hanukkiah. 

Kwanzaa- An annual celebration of African-American culture from December 26 to January 1st, culminating in a communal feast called Karamu, usually on the sixth day. It was created by activist Maulana Karenga, based on African harvest festival traditions from various parts of West & Southeast Africa. Kwanzaa was first celebrated in 1966. 

A Kwanzaa ceremony may include drumming and musical selections, libations, a reading of the African Pledge & the Principles of Blackness, reflection on the Pan-African colors, a discussion of the African principle of the day or a chapter in African history, a candle-lighting ritual, artistic performance & finally, a feast of faith (Karamu Ya Imani).

Saturnalia-

is an ancient Roman festival and holiday in honour of the god Saturn, held on 17 December of the Julian calendar & later expanded with festivities through to 23 December. The holiday was celebrated with a sacrifice at the Temple of Saturn, in the Roman Forum & a public banquet, followed by private gift-giving, continual partying & a carnival atmosphere that overturned Roman social norms: gambling was permitted & masters provided table service for their slaves as it was seen as a time of liberty for both slaves and freedmen alike.

 A common custom was the election of a "King of the Saturnalia", who gave orders to people, which were followed & presided over the merrymaking. The gifts exchanged were usually gag gifts or small figurines made of wax or pottery known as sigillaria. The poet Catullus called it "the best of days".

Other celebrations:

Feast of Epona-

Eponalia is the feast day of Gaulish Goddess Epona, the Divine Mare & in the time of the Roman Empire it was celebrated on December 18th.

Epona is known to be one of a very few Gaulish deities whose names were spread to the rest of the Roman Empire. This seems to have happened because Roman cavalry units stationed in Gaul followed Her & adopted her as their Patroness. This may have started because many of the cavalry troops were conscripted from Gaul as they were superb horsemen. From Gaul the Romans took Epona with them including to Rome where She was given her own feast day on the 18 December. They worshipped her as Epona Augusta or Epona Regina & invoked her on behalf of the Emperor. She even had a shrine in the barracks of the Imperial Bodyguard.

Hunting of the Wren-

A traditional custom carried out on the Isle of Man on the 26 December, St. Stephen's Day. It consists of groups of people going around villages and towns singing and dancing a traditional song and dance around a decorated wren pole.

The earliest and most common folklore story accounting for the origin of hunt the wren tells of a fairy/enchantress/witch whose beauty lures the men of the Isle of Man to harm, for which she is chased and is changed into the form of a wren. It is therefore in punishment for her actions that the wren is hunted on St. Stephen's Day

Sources:

Farmersalmanac.com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Llewellyn's 2023 magical almanac: practical magic for everyday living

Wikipedia

Encyclopedia Britannica

#correspondence #cold moon #witch guide #december 2023 #winter solstice #yule #witchblr #witch community #wiccablr #paganblr #witch tumblr #witchcraft #witch tips #beginner witch #baby witch #witch stuff #spellbook #grimoire #book of shadows #spellwork #sabbat #wheel of the year #traditional witchcraft #witchyvibes #witches of tumblr #witches #witchcore #GreenWitchcrafts #witchy things

[betterthanburrow]

citrine (happiness) 💛

Citrine - Joe Burrow

Crystal Representation: Happiness

Genre: Fluff with a hint of Angst

"your smile always cheers me up.”

Joe Burrow watched the snow fall from the sky through the window in his girlfriend’s childhood bedroom… While the weather in Québec, Canada was very cold, the sun was still shining through the clouds and that gave Joe a little bit of hope that his mood could get better in the next couple of days.

There had been a lot of things on his mind during the past few weeks, but now that the off-season has started for him… Joe has had the time to let those thoughts take over his mindset and process everything that had happened during the past few months.

From the rumors about his private life, to the injuries, to the disagreements that he had with his teammates and coach staff, to the harassment from the media and how the high hopes for this season were all gone.

After everything that happened in the United States throughout these past few months, he just needed to get away from the country for a little while… so he took your parents’ offer to spend a couple of weeks in the beginning of the off-season in Québec in your old childhood home to spend time with family that you haven’t seen in a couple of months

If Joe listened closely, he could hear you speaking your fluent language of French to your parents who were laughing along with something that you had said… he couldn’t say that he knew the French language fluently, but maybe if he paid close attention to what you were saying he could understand a few French words.

Instead, his thoughts overwhelmed his mind and the voices from your parents’ kitchen were just background noises… Joe allowed himself to drown in his self-deprecating thoughts as he closes his eyes, trying to image himself to be anywhere that he couldn’t feel stuck in his own mind.

He tried to imagine himself somewhere that he knows he can feel at peace, but everytime he tried to imagine a place in his mind… He just imagines himself in the middle of a football field, in uniform ready to play a game alongside his teammates but it’s going to be months until he has the chance to play again.

The deep breathes he took while he rested on his back had you convinced that he was asleep when you had opened your childhood bedroom’s door, with a mug of hot chocolate in your hand.

Quietly, you tip-toe into the bedroom and place mug on the nightstand right next to your childhood bed… You sit down next to where he laid on the bed and placed your hand on top of his hands where they were rested on his chest, rubbing your thumb along the goosebumps on his skin.

Joe could feel you from the moment you had opened the door but he didn’t want to wake up yet, he could smell the hot chocolate that he knew were made by your mother… He couldn’t help but wonder if the conversation from the kitchen that he could hear when his mind was quiet was about him.

You were quiet as you watched him sleep, just like Joe there were a lot of thoughts going through your mind as well that you finally had time to process the past few days since you’ve been home in Canada.

“I’m not asleep if that’s what you’re thinking.” Joe mumbles, with his eyes still closed.

“I wasn’t thinking that…” you say.

Joe raises a questioning eyebrow before opening his eyes and sees you sitting in front of him with the prettiest smile that he has ever seen on your face.

He grabs your hand to hold as he fidgets with the promise ring that he gave you on your 1 year anniversary a few years ago on your right ring finger.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, “My parents are a worried about you cause you’ve been in here all day.”

Joe shrugs his shoulders, “I’m not in the worse mood but I’m not in the best mood either. I’m just existing as of right now… and tell your parents I’m fine, they don’t need to worry about me.”

“They’re going to worry about you because they care about you.” you respond “It’s okay to feel this way, as long as you’re existing that means you’re surviving.”

He nodded his head to acknowledge you that he understands what you said… You watched him furrows his eyebrows and purses his lips as his fingers fidgeted with the promise ring on your finger.

Over the past few days, the two of you had many conversations about the things that had happened within in past few months but also the things that are going to be happening the New Year.

You didn’t feel the need to talk to him about the thoughts going through his mind right now because it would just be repetitive conversations… Instead you reach over to the nightstand and grab the mug of hot chocolate to hand over to Joe.

Before taking the drink from your hand, he sits up on up the bed with his back against the headboard… As he took the mug from your hand, whispering a “Thank You” before taking a sip of the hot chocolate drink.

Joe hums in delight as the hot chocolate drink soothes his mind, taking another deep breath as he sips his drink and closes his eyes to enjoy it… Your mother’s famous hot chocolate drink is his favorite drink in the world, he feels at peace with the mug of hot chocolate in his hand and you sitting right next to him on the bed.

“This is the best hot chocolate that I’ve drank in my life.” Joe declares, resting his head back on the headboard.

“You say that every-time you drink my mom’s hot chocolate.” you giggle in response.

“I say it every time because it’s true.” Joe says, before taking another sip of the hot chocolate drink.

“Make sure you tell my mom that, she loves when the hot NFL Quarterback praises her hot chocolate cause it boosts her ego.” you exclaim, causing Joe to laugh.

As the minutes go by, he has taken more sips of his hot chocolate drink while the both of you watch the snow fall from the window… He felt relaxed as his mind had settled down from those overwhelming thoughts.

It was a peaceful atmosphere in your childhood bedroom, your body was now laying next to Joe as he had one arm around your shoulder as your head rested on his chest.

“I know we have snow in Cincinnati… but nothing will compare to the snowfall in Québec.” you whisper.

Joe hums in response, taking his last sip of the hot chocolate drink before reaching over to place the empty mug on your nightstand, “It is a pretty view.”

“It still is too cold to go outside and enjoy it.” you say, “But maybe if it gets a little warmer in a few days we can go outside and build a snowman.”

“Are you wanting to build a snowman just because we watched Frozen last night?” Joe asked.

“ ‘Do You Wanna Build A Snowman’ has been stuck in my head all day!” you exclaim. “But honestly, it’s been years since I’ve built a snowman… and maybe building a snowman can cheer you up from your mood swings.”

“I am cheered up… I told you that I’m fine.” Joe says.

“Did my mom’s hot chocolate cheer you up?” you ask, sitting up from your spot next to him.

"Your smile always cheers me up.” Joe answers, causing you to roll your eyes as your smile grew bigger.

“Stop trying to flirt with me and answer the question.” you exclaim, causing Joe to laugh.

“Alot of things that you and your parents have done for me since we’ve arrived here have helped cheer me up.” Joe says, “And I’m sorry for being in these mood swings since before our trip back here started.”

You pout as you lean forward to peck his lips, “You don’t need to apologize for anything. My parents and I just want you to be happy after the rough few months, and we’ll do what we need to do to help you.”

The prettiest smile that he’s ever seen appears on your face as you lean back from him, a rosy blush spreads across the cheeks of his face as a small smile appears.

You decide to kiss him on the lips one more time, before pulling away to stand up from the bed causing Joe to furrow his eyebrows and pout, “Where are you going?” he asks as you’re walking towards the door.

“I’m going get us a slice of pumpkin pie… I bet that’ll cheer you up more than a smile.” you state.

Joe shakes his head, “Trust me… Nothing is better than your smile.”

“Stop trying to flirt with me Burrow!” you exclaim causing him to laugh, before walking out the bedroom.

There are still alot of things that are on his mind, but none of those thoughts are about the things that happened in the past… Joe thought about the things that the two of you had talked about in regarding the future of the New Year, also he thought about the promise ring on your right ring finger that he was fidgeting with and how soon there would be a ring on your left ring finger.

The engagement ring box was hidden in the drawer of your nightstand, he knew that there was no chance that you’ll open the nightstand’s drawer… He didn’t have a plan on what day he was going to propose to you or how the proposal is going to go, but he knows that he wanted to be by your side for the rest of his life.

As he turned his head to watch the snowfall in Québec, he had hope that things would be different things year.

Author’s Note:

if you want to request a prompt; please check out the Important Announcement post on how to request the Crystal Prompts!

thank you for all the love and support! 🤍

#Joe Burrow #NFL #CFB #LSU Tigers #Cincinnati Bengals #Joe Burrow Fanfiction #Joe Burrow Fanfic #Joe Burrow Fic #Joe Burrow x Reader #Joe Burrow x OC #Joe Burrow x Y/N #Joe Burrow Oneshot #Joe Burrow Imagine #Joe Burrow Blurb #NFL Fanfiction

[fishnapple]

Crystal reading : Your energetic field 😶‍🌫️⭕️🔘

A little explanation of the method I used for reading

Lithomancy : I assigned a meaning for each stone (each stone represents a planet) and cast them on a circle divided into 12 parts, just like an astrology chart and do the reading

Pick a stone :

Reading for each group below :

1. Rose quartz group :

Your energy feels very warm and big.

Solid and abundant.

Like a ripe apple orchard under the shining sun.

Lots of red colour.

When interacting with others, you have a grounding effect on them, transporting them to a safe place.

It's active but soft at the same time.

Others may not pick up your emotions clearly because they are too busy focusing on your actions or your appearance.

But they can sense the creative force from you,

your mind is always busy, thinking up ideas

and bringing them to life.

The saying 'Fortune favours the bold' would suit you very well.

2. Citrine group

Your energy feels very open and expansive.

Like an eagle spreading its wings wide.

Carrying in its claws the gift of love.

Because you have such a strong core

that you're able to do that.

There are lots of luck and abundance in your material plane.

People would even say that you have a "rich" energy.

But that richness didn't come from nowhere.

It came from intense dedication and the absolute vision you have for yourself.

But like the image of a bird flying high,

others sometimes feel that you are out of reach, a little detached from them.

After all, you have no problem flying alone in your unique journey.

3. Amethyst group :

This energy speaks volumes.

If your energy would show itself as a person, then they would be a spiritual leader or a teacher.

A unifying force that rallies people from all different walks of life.

Your beliefs and faith don't always follow the common line.

You follow the beat of your own drum.

That's what makes people want to follow you,

to listen and learn from you.

Your words are powerful,

their impacts are not exactly on the mental but more on the emotional side.

Transporting people to a land where they don't understand but still want to explore.

4. Apatite group

You have a very gentle energy,

quite subtle,

that encloses your surroundings.

Creating a soft cocoon.

Your energy would feel very comfortable in the setting of high spirituality.

You blur the line of hard physical world and elusive psychic world.

There's not much ego showing.

You're very protective and private about your inner emotions and feelings.

People would create all kinds of assumptions and fantasies about you.

Even those that are close to you may not be able to read you very well.

Your energy would feel so simple yet so elusive,

like trying to hold water in your hands.

5. Carnelian group :

Your energy is scattered.

There's something unresolved deep within that you may not be aware of.

It pulls you in all directions.

You still show your light to the world.

But right now, it's a bit dimmer.

People would feel quite confused about you.

Your energy needs a home to rest.

Taking good care of your daily life in small steps would help tremendously.

This is a transitional time.

Some old values would be transformed

giving birth to a new self,

bringing in reward to all aspects of your life.

#crystal reading #pick a card #channeled message #crystals #lithomancy #energy field #aura #energy #energy check #pick a pile #intuitive messages #divination #spirituality #astrology #astro #astrology chart #horary chart #horary astrology #crystal casting

[mmmatchasims]

Citrine: Where is my sister?

Hibiscus: With her friends back at school. She told me you've never been to a dance before, and that you probably wanted to go.

Topaz: She told you to come back and ask me? That kid is so sweet, I don't deserve her.

Hibiscus: So, what do you say? You coming with me, gorgeous?

#ts4 legacy #ts4 storytelling #ts4 #berry sweet sims #pastel rainbowcy #dream bpr #dream gen 3 #hibiscus dream #citrine shine #THE MISCOMMUNICATION OF ALL TIME #FUCK #i'm mad at them and i'm the one who wrote this #let me be very clear too #hibiscus fully believes this is what topaz was asking him to do #this is not a mean spirited thing #my son is just an idiot #and he has heart eyes for this girl big time

[tiredwitchplant]

Everything You Need to Know About Crystals: Tiger's Eye

Tiger's Eye (The Stone of the Sun)

Color: Golden Yellow with Brown

Hardiness: 7

Rarity: Easy to Obtain

Type: Metamorphic

Chakra Association: Sacral, Solar-Plexus, Third Eye

Deities: Ra, Sekhmet, Durga

Astrological Signs: Capricorn, Leo

Element: Earth, Fire

Planet: Sun

Origin: India, Myanmar, South Africa, USA, Mexico

Powers: The Sun, Protection, Abundance, Luck, Pride, and Justice

Crystals It Works Well With: Cat’s Eye, Chalcedony, Topaz

How It is Created: Tiger’s Eye is basically a quartz but they formed in such an unusual way that the fibers of the mineral called crocidolite are laid down in parallel bands within the structure. This creates its silk like appearance and its “cat’s eye”.

History: Tombs in the ancient city of Ur in Mesopotamia (now Iraq) dating back to 2500 BCE have yielded gold sets with agates, like tiger’s eye and carnelian. The tiger’s eye was very popular due to the belief that it harnessed the power of the earth and the sun. This is why it is associated with the god of the sun, Ra and why Egyptians considered it a very valuable gem. Roman soldiers believed that the tiger’s eye was a symbol of bravery and would ride with pieces of tiger’s eye on them in order to encourage bravery during battles.

What It Can Do:

Shields the energy field or aura from negativity

Clears tension and mental blocks from the solar plexus

Can soothe, calm, and restore one’s body and mind

Banish the evil eye and curses

Attracts money while curbing impulsive spending

Used to detect liars and deceptions

Can increase confidence and pride

Placing it on your third eye can help enhance psychic abilities and balance your lower chakras

Helps unlock and unleash your true desires

Alleviates depression and lifts moods

Reduces crabbing and addictive behavior

How To Get the Best Out of Tiger’s Eye: Wear it in bracelet or amulet form.

How to Cleanse and Charge:

To cleanse: Lay it on a windowsill where the sun shines the most or bury it in your garden where the sun shines the most

To charge: You can also charge it on the windowsill with the sun. The sun really gives it a great charge, especially if one of the deities you work with is a sun god.

Crystal Grid:

Abundance (Spiral)

Base for the grid, such as wood, slate, fossilized wood, or golden card or cloth

Citrine

Goldstone

Green Aventurine

Herkimer Diamond

Jade

Moss Agate

Ruby

Tiger’s Eye

Topaz

If you’re laying a preparatory “cleansing” spiral, start at the topmost point and lay crystals alternately, with the points pointing out from the center.

Place the Goldstone in the center as the keystone.

If laying an abundance grid, begin by placing the Goldstone in the center, stating that your intention is for it to bring abundance into your life.

Lay a spiral of alternated crystals, pointing down and inward, until you reach the Goldstone.

Add a grounding stone if appropriate.

When the grid is no longer required, dismantle it.

Sources

#tiger's eye #witchblr #witch community #witchcraft #paganblr #egyptian mythology #crystals #occulltism #baby witch #witches #witch tips #witch tumblr #witch resources #magick #witches of tumblr #witchcraft resources #witch blog #beginner witch #geology #gemstones

[witchthewriter]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: you can take the relationship with the characters as romantic or platonic - completely up to you. Also I feel like this is a neurodivergent thing, where we pick something that looks shiny, cute or weird and gift it to someone we love. It’s the neurotypicals that usually think it’s weird...

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ        

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿  

𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐲 (1000% neurodivergent. Most likely has AuDHD)

・Running to Lucy to told her to shut her eyes and hold our her hands

・Would undoubtedly take the rock excitedly

・Actually would be out in the woods looking at pretty rocks with you in the first place

          “Ooh this one actually shines in the light!” She says as she holds it up to the sun. Without realising, she had found a citrine gemstone. 

・There are many different rocks in Narnia, and because of the magic, there’s no ... logic, to what can be found

・It makes humans very interested

・Both of you returning back to the castle covered in dirt but with sacks full of rocks (Peter says you can only choose your favourite 3 and the rest have to be left outside)

・Is definitely a hobby for you and Lucy

・It’s what you bonded over in the beginning of your friendship

・Has a collection in her room that she’s specifically told the servants not to get rid of (because the majority of the collection are just plain rocks)

・Would have a smooth stone that she keeps in her pocket to rub - as a form of stimming 

𝐄𝐝𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐝 (Is neurodivergent, but has masked for so long that he doesn’t know how to unmask)

・Is used to Lucy giving him trinkets, ribbons, rocks, shells etc when they were young 

・So when you present him the rock that “reminded you of him,” he blushes a little and thanks you

・He absolutely loves when people tell him “oh this made me think of you,” and it’s a positive thing ??? It blows his mind

・Edmund has no judgement. He just thinks it’s normal. Unlike some people who think it’s just plain weird (idk why they think it’s weird. It’s so human to want to collect things.) 

・Edmund actually has a momento of each place that he’s visited. Both in Narnia and the human world. 

・At home he has snow globes, pins, train tickets, pens, pamphlets, etc in his room, to remind him of all the places his been. And that war won’t be forever. That the world has a lot to offer. 

・However, Edmund can agree that the collectible items are much better in Narnia

・Everything feels alive with magic, especially when Aslan is near

𝐒𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐧 (I’m actually thinking a lil neurodivergent. Maybe even autistic??)

・Like Edmund, she’s used to when Lucy would bring her random objects 

・Hence why you found it so easy to give her things you thought were cool

・This was a common occurance, and it was nearly a daily routine for Susan to empty out her pockets of a night and see random objects

・Sometimes when she’s too focused on something, you’ll just slip the things into her pockets; notes, reminders, things she’s forgotten to take with her, silly little presents etc.

・She always knows it’s you

・Not in a weird way - but she can smell you, so she isn’t startled by your presence ... like ever 

・So when you gave her the rock, a glinting piece of labradorite, she held it up to the light and moved it about. Making it flash here and there. 

・She was very impressed

    “This will go great with the collection!”

𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 (is definitely neurotypical. One of the judgy ones as well, until you - who opens his mind.)

・The least ... chill about it.

・Thinks collecting things is a waste of time unless they serve a purpose 

・Has made you angry a few times because of it 

・Lucy had to tell him to be nicer because the way he was going about it ... god he was being so headstrong 

・So now he goes about it a lot more gently (because he’s gotten to know you better as well. You’re an important person in his life and he doesn’t want to upset you)

・So when you show him, he nods his head and does a weird, “oh thanks,” with furrowed brows. 

・He doesn’t understand that it’s a token of your love/feelings toward him 

・Not until you scrunch your face up and explain that to him

・And then he’s like, “oh wow. Okay then, I love it! Thank you - please give it to me,” and he’s chasing you around the room.

𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐧 (Not neurodivergent but loves people who are different and think out of the box)

・You had found him in the training yard, sweaty and out of breath 

・Although in an established relationship, you still take the time to explain why you do certain things and what certain things mean to you, why you do certain things etc. 

・Even if the word neurodivergent doesn’t exist yet, the people do. And are known as the poets, writers, creators, the intelligent, the weird, the hermits. 

・And Caspian has always had an open-mind. No matter what, he’s always gone into things thinking about different points of view

・So a lot of things happened naturally with Caspian. And explaining yourself was easy because he understood a lot of your concepts 

・When you gave him the rock, you were incredibly nervous but still desperate to show Caspian because it was a part of your background - collecting things, and you wanted to share that with him

・In all truthfulness, Caspian was expecting something much weirder to happen by the way you were acting

・But when you gave him the rock, his response gave you butterflies

    “Thank you, my love, I will cherish it always.”

・And he stayed true to his promise

・Somehow he got a blacksmith to turn it into a ring and he wore it always 

𝐄𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐞 (I reckon he’s autistic tbh, so neurodivergent 10/10)

・Being amongst the Narnian people was like nothing you could have ever imagined 

・But what goes significantly unnoticed is the landscape and what would be normal in our world is 10x more magical in Narnia

・So you and Eustace have absolute field days just spending hours looking through this new world

・When you stumble across this particular rock, it takes your breath away and you instantly have to show Eustace

・Getting his attention was a bit difficult though but once you had it, he was very excited

・When you place it in his hands, he examines it, to see if it’s a geode or something that can be cracked open

・His mind is an endless pit of scientific facts

・But you didn’t give it to him for scientific purposes

・You gave Eustace the stone because ... well it represented something

・Where Eustace is facts, you’re fiction - a poet, at times

・And you wanted him to know how unyielding your feelings for him are 

・However, Eustace did crack it open. Even after your pleads not to, yet his suspicions were right. Because inside it was a glimmering mass of shimmering rock pieces

𝐀𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧 (understands the way of the world and how people’s minds work so he is neither neurotypical or neurodivergent - he just ... is). Also like, you can see Aslan in a romantic way if you want, but I’m kinda writing him as this father figure

・You didn’t mean to interrupt the meeting but you were too excited to wait to show Aslan the cool rock you’d found

・It was jagged but had reflective, almost glittering elements when you moved it around 

・It looked ... magical 

・And you wanted to ask if it might be

・So when you ran into the map room, where Aslan and a few other guards were, you enthusiastically brandished it in front of him

      “Look! Look what I found! For you-” 

・Very gracious

・Thanked you immediately while the others around you look at you like you’re crazy

・If anyone says anything mean about you, he will call them out

・You think he just forgets about them but he actually keeps everything you give him 

・He can tell exactly where you got the rock from; which woods, lake or ocean. He’s so intune with Narnia that every little thing is easy for him to identify 

・Encourages you to find more

・And gives you tips on the best places to find more cool things 

𝐌𝐫 𝐓𝐮𝐦𝐧𝐮𝐬 (Yes, neurodivergent. Kinda goblin brained, but likes his alone time and collecting of things)

・It was a bit of a down day and you could see his frown. Wanting to brighten his day you went on a stroll, trying to find a pretty flower or a nice bunch of herbs 

・But you couldn’t find either of those things

・Instead, you came across a tree stump with such smooth round rocks at the base. 

・They looked so ... satisfying

・A perfect egg-shaped stone, close to one you’d seen Lucy playing with from time to time

・Running back home, you called out for Tumnus, and as he stood in front of you, you told him to hold out his hands

    “Hmm...,” he said with a suspicious look, but obeyed. 

・When you put it in his hands he blushed immediately. Knowing that you know how much he loves knick knacks and collecting objects... it made his day a lot better 

・I feel like this could be a Narnian custom in a way. Like...to show your affection for the one you love, you go out in nature and find something that reminds you of them???

#witch the writer preferences #narnia preferences #narnia x reader #lucy pevensie #queen lucy the valiant #lucy pevensie headcanons #edmund pevensie #king edmund the just #edmund pevensie headcanons #peter pevensie #peter pevensie headcanons #susan pevensie headcanons #queen susan the gentle #prince caspian #prince caspian heacanons #prince caspian x reader #eustace scrubbs #eustace scrubbs headcanons #eustace scrubb #aslan #aslan headcanons #mr tumnus #mr tumnus headcanons #mr tumnus x reader #witchthewriter #neurodivergent #autism #adhd

[honeycollectswhump]

PLEASE aftermath of the shock collar piece?👉👈 back to normal? back to ashtray being loved and lovingly used for his normal standard purpose? so he knows he in fact didn't do anything wrong? and he's a good boy? MAYBE... MAYBE EVEN... merciful mistress mireille checking on him to make sure he's gonna be alright?🥺 because maybe she's worried she went a bit too far with all the shocks?🥺

-🪷

Citrine Kisses

[masterlist]

CW: pet whump, dehumanisation, cigarette burns, past torture (referenced)

When her servants carry in the ashtray the next day, no amount of makeup they have desperately seemed to apply can hide his condition. As Mireille lounges on her velvet couch, worth someone’s fortune, she can’t help but notice his sickly sweet, pale tone and the occasional twitch he tries and fails to hide. It’s unbecoming of such a luxurious good as him, laughable for the price she paid for him to be pretty. 

It almost makes her want to ring her stupid servants back and have someone, anyone, answer for ruining her scene with a pathetic excuse for a golden ashtray. And yet…

And yet she doesn’t. 

Despite it all, he still looks beautiful, doesn’t he? There is beauty to be found in his alabaster skin, no matter if it was caused by the thick collar around his pretty thin neck, which has still left imprints like two pricks of a vampire. The thought makes her laugh, elegantly like chiming bells, like candlelight and a passionate kiss. No, Mireille wouldn’t mind being a vampire.

Twirling a lush black lock around her finger, a cigarette between her lips, she leans forward, taking in the sight of her ashtray. If he were a diamond, she’d hold him in her hand against the light, letting rays of sun play with the rainbow. What happened yesterday, it too was like seeing a rainbow illuminate her walls, each gasping scream echoing in her mind like a marvellous symphony. 

Under her gaze, the ashtray goes still like a marble statue. He never raises his eyes, just like it should be. Silently worshipping but never being brash enough to gaze upon her. 

Mireille bathes in the knowledge that the ashtray’s biggest fear must be displeasing her. That is all he was made for after all. Maybe… maybe that is why he now holds himself differently, but it’s not like she could expect a simple thing like him to understand the aesthetic intention behind the shock collar, the joy and entertainment so unlike a punishment. Of course, the ashtray is too simple to get that.

It almost makes her feel bad, if only for the unappreciated amusement getting drowned out by his pleading devotion. He had been good yesterday, had been less an ashtray and more a diamond yet to be polished. She is merciful, Mireille thinks with a slight smile, and his pretty screams have earned him a reward.

Gracefully, she takes her cigarette from her lips, gazing at it for a moment, before delicately placing a hand on his shining golden locks. Immediately, the ashtray leans into her touch, imperceptively stretching himself to press himself into her palm. 

He was made mindless but a simple drawled “Ashtray” is enough to get his attention fully on her. Melting under her gracious touch, her thing turns towards her, lowered and on his knees. Mireille pets his head a couple of times, like she has seen with her friend’s lapdog. She much prefers love as an act of passion, of art and burning.

The ashtray shivers under her touch, as she lets her long fingers glide down his jaw and tilt his head up to meet her eyes. “You love that, huh?”, she chuckles, and that alone seems to give him to strength to hold himself straighter. 

“You’ve been a good boy, a very good boy. Your screams have been delightful, you’ve done so well.”

A hazy smile appears on his lips as if drugged, and for a moment she considers the fun in that. Instead, though, she holds out her hand, beckoning him to lay his hand in hers. Of course, the ashtray complies, it is all he knows, eager to please like a dog or something less.

Holding eye contact makes her ashtray flush sweetly, and he shivers again. This, she thinks, is also art. 

“You are my favourite toy, I want you to never forget that.” Mireille purrs, lightly holding his hand like a prince would a princess’, his fingers curled around hers. “A reward would only be fitting, don’t you think? Something to commemorate this?”

She turns the cigarette between her fingers until it feels right, before placing the glowing end of it on the ashtray's pale skin, pressing down until the citrine gets swallowed up by ash. 

Never once does he flinch, steadily looking at her. A practice of worship, the greatest price of them all.

Soon, when her servants wash away the dirty ash, a bright red spot will remain, burning through skin and tissue, a kiss his body will never be able to heal. And her ashtray, her stupid little ashtray, will look at it in doglike adoration, his most precious possessions are the scars she allows him, and he will be thankful. 

Sometimes Mireille wonders if the ashtray pities her servants for their lack of burning, wonders if her little lamb prides itself in the red scarf wrapped around its neck, telling a story of how the butcher will one day cut its throat.

taglist: @whumpsday, @2in1whump, @sodacreampuff, @webbo0, @toyybox, @whumpshaped, @clickerflight let me know if you want to be added or removed :)

#this was a fun challenge to write #mireille is very hesitant to give out any actual comfort. especially at this point in the story #i really hope you enjoyed it :D #The Ashtray #ashtray/skye (oc) #mireille belmont (oc) #honey's writing #pet whump #pet whumpee #conditioned whumpee #ashtray whumpee #ashtray whump #object whump #object whumpee #whumpee and whumper #female whumper #intimate whumper #whumper pov #human furniture #furniture whump #referenced past torture #cigarette burns #🪷 anon #anon #asks

[raadhfathi]

Find out how we can design a bespoke ring individual to you, as a special gift or to mark a special occasion!💛 In the 📸 : Natural Royal Blue Sapphire. Create your very own bespoke wedding ring designs that will sit perfectly with any engagement ring and personalize the quality of the exchange of the wedding rings in ways that machine made jewelry never can. If you are looking for matching bespoke wedding rings for both men and women or even to fit with a bespoke engagement ring - Raadhafathi is the right choice for you.��� #jewelry #jewelrydesigner #jewelryaddict #weddinginspiration #weddingrings #silver #white #shine #citrine #bluesapphire #gift #giftideas #gemstone #ring #maldives #byraadhafathi (at Male, Maldives) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cg__wObJIO7/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#jewelry #jewelrydesigner #jewelryaddict #weddinginspiration #weddingrings #silver #white #shine #citrine #bluesapphire #gift #giftideas #gemstone #ring #maldives #byraadhafathi

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Dancing with a wolf (FemalereaderocxAemondxAegon)

Aemond x reader x Aegon

Tags: Showsetting, blackmail, piracy, warcrimes.

🔷Summary: A long time ago, you paid the ultimate price for Prince Aemond's hand. And now your sister summons you back to court.

🔷Author's note: Dark.

🔷Wordcount :7000

🔷Warnings: Piracy, child-abuse and mentions of traumas and blood and gore.

Dancing with a Wolf

The Red Keep had not changed in years. It was the same old horrible looking building, with the same boring old towers and the same horrible people that called it their home. You look out the window of the carriage, quickly closing the curtains when a single sunray finds its way into your carriage. Today is a sunny, lovely day. So unlike how you feel inside.

You are irritated, hollow of the greed you have been feeling for a while now, as well as that anxious choking feeling you had hoped to be rid of for years now. You prided yourself into not feeling fear anymore, or not allowing yourself to feel it. Yet here you are, back in the city of Hell, King’s Landing on no one’s order than your sweet darling twin sister, Adalina. Or is it Princess Adalina now? You wouldn’t know. You haven’t written a word to that brat since you were exiled.

The Carriage finally drives up to the familiar courtyard, and when you are nearing the gates, you notice there is blood under your fingernails from where you slammed your fingers too deep into your own skin. You quickly wipe it away, on your skirt. The driver of your carriage, Haryold takes notice of your behavior. ‘’Ye Nervous, Miss?’’

You huff, denying it to yourself. As long as you don’t admit your feelings are real, they won’t feel real. ‘’That’s a ridiculous observation, Haryold.’’

He continues, stabbing the poorly healed wound.

‘’It’s just…Last time you were here, you were in quite the trouble.’’ Memories flash back to you, as you pretend that they are not your own. You are not the same girl you were back then. 

‘’I don’t pay you to have an opinion on my personal matters. People who lurk around in caskets, shouldn’t be surprised if they ended up in one.’’ You warn him with that and one of your glares. Haroyld nods, understanding he crossed a line and does not speak when riding the carriage to the entrance of the keep.

There, two servants help you out of the carriage. One offers his arm, the other is prepared to help you with your feet. You drop your bag in the hand of the man, and after that you jump out of the carriage, landing on your leather shoes, glancing up at the sun and the castle.

It is quiet in the courtyard. Adalia invited you here, yet she isn’t here. You would be insulted, if you didn’t hate her. You walk towards the castle doors, your boots leaving muddy footprints from your last trip. A page or servant, someone who works for the castle, as you didn’t bother to keep up with titles of the staff, rushes after you. ‘’Lady! Lady Ethel! You must wait.’’

You turn on your heel, facing him. You smile, revealing your glimmering teeth, folding your hands on your back. ‘’I’m just visiting my sister’s future home. If you like me to report that you had a issue with me, be my guest.’’ You wait for him to deny that claim, that she’s an angel, a gift sent by the Seven. Instead of that he bows his head, letting you, as a dog rolling over. You smile, patting his shoulder and tossing him a coin, before entering the Red Keep.

—-------------

The smells, the lights and the damn banners. It all brings you back. You tried to look as yourself as much as possible. Your parents don’t need to be pleased. Your hair is loose, wild, untamed, unbothered. It is as wild as a river, as deep as an ocean and endless as the sea. Your good eye has a beautiful black line around it, highlighting the color of your pupil, and your other eye is shining as beautifully as ever. The silversmith did an amazing job, fitting your new eye. It is a small, pure silver orb with a citrine in it, symbolizing the pupil and the eye you lost. Your dress is a simple but practical dress in the colors of the Dornish. 

Inside the castle, someone awaits you already. Two guards size you up, narrowing their eyes almost at the same time. ‘’I am here for Princess Adalia.’’ You tell one of them, when watching the other. The two men share a glance.

He judges your poor quality dress, your cloak with holes and your old boots. ‘’You are Lady Ethel?’’ No. 

‘’Yes.’’ You say, smiling to hide your disgust. You are, in ways. In others, no. Not anymore.

You turn your head at the same time, and notice someone coming down the stairs. Someone with your hair color, someone wearing your smile. Someone living a life so different from yours. Your twin sister wears a fine silk gown with embroidered details of gold. She spots you easily, dismissing the ladies following her around as helpless little pups stalking their mother.

She comes over, and both guards nod in respect to Lady Adalia. You don’t. You do smile, and you notice her staring at your clothing and your fake eye. ‘’You changed.’’ That is the first time your twin sister says to you. Her voice almost sounds sincere. She sounds shocked.

You shrug. ‘’Disownment and exile does that to a person. Shall we go discuss things upstairs? I’m sure you can fetch a decent bottle of wine here.’’ You add with a wink. 

Adalia groans, but follows.

You soon walk over the same stairs you did years ago, and it all comes back to you.

-ten years ago-

Your hair is put up high, making you look so much older than you actually are. The coal and berry juice  itches on your face, as you aren’t used to wearing any of it. And your dress, it is the pretty own with the silver sparkles, as your mother requested by the seamstress. You never felt as a princess as much as you do tonight. 

Your parents worked hard to arrange this match with Queen Alicent of House Hightower. Despite your family being some of her most loyal supporters, Queen Alicent was being ‘’difficult’’ about the match for months. But now, tonight, she finally has accepted: Her son, Prince Aemond of House Targaryen, will marry either you or your sister, Adalia. You and her were born during the same moon and have shared everything in life. From plush toys to dresses and from dresses to secret wishes. You both love each other deeply.

You are presented first to court. You have to wait until the page reads your name out loud and when he does, you finally make your debut and enter the castle hall. Many eyes are fixated on you, but only one pair of eyes matters. You see him standing near the throne where his father sits, the boy with silver hair that one day will become your husband. ‘’Lady Ethel of House Mossdam!’’ A few murmurs rise up as you pass the crowds of people, coming closer to the Prince. He waits with his hands folded on his back, taking in your gown with a smile on his lips.

When you are finally in front of the King and Queen, you make a curtsy for them and turn to your future husband. He smiles, greeting you. Your mother who had escorted you, quickly tells the Queen which one of the two twins you are as you and Aemond converse about the candy that is put on the table. ‘’I personally prefer the dragonsticks but I can also recommend the chocolate cake.’’ The prince says, moving a bit with his hands as he talks, likely nervous. You nod and smile. Chocolate cake sounds delicious. You plan to get a piece when your sister is announced. Once again, all heads turn.

But this time it is different. Gasps and adoring coes are heard as your sister parades to the Prince, her head held high as a true Queen. You look at the Prince, trying to get his attention by offering him chocolate cake, but it doesn't matter anymore. 

The moment he sees her, his eyes light up in a way they never did when he looked at you. Despite your best efforts, your smile fades and you turn to your parents for direction and help. You gently tap the Prince’s shoulder but he does not only ignore you, he also glares at you to warn you to not do that again. Insulted and confused, you look at the Queen who only smiles back at you the way you once saw so many smile at you. Her smile speaks where her mouth cannot. Disappointment, shame and embarrassment wash over you as Prince Aemond and your sister take off in another direction entirely, gushing happily to one another. 

‘’Prince Aemond made his choice.’’ Queen Alicent declares with a smile. ‘’Adelia and him will be married when they both turn sixteen.’’ 

You came here, hoping that Aemond would like you. You came here, hoping that this would be your home. A strange, hollow feeling eats away at your soul, bringing out an unfamiliar darkness in you that you never felt before as you look at the smiling Adelia. Your feet act before you can think and you quickly dispose of the chocolate cake you had gathered. Fresh tears pierce in your eyes, threatening to cause a scene and to ruin all what you worked so hard for.  And now he doesn't even want you. 

You hear footsteps approach and see that your father has followed you. You offer him a piece of cake too. He only needs to glare at you so you put the plate down. ‘’I am very disappointed in you.’’ He tells you, his voice soft so only you may hear. ‘’Your sister only needed a few moments with the Prince, and you are making a fool of yourself and he doesn’t even care.’’ He refers to the cake incident. You had hoped that no one would’ve noticed. But as you lift your head and a few tears escape, you notice that all eyes in the crowd are on you, stuck as a fly in honey.

You must defend yourself. You must.

‘’Daddy, I tried.’’ You manage to stutter. He raises his hand, to silence you.

He has a scoff in his voice, but you hear anger more than anything else.  ‘’You didn’t try hard enough. Do you know how much effort me and your mother put into this match? You could at least try to not look like a clown.’’ You quickly wipe at your make-up, smearing most of it on the sleeve of your dress.

 He walks away with one final word that would forever haunt your memory. ‘’Disappointment.’’

Prince Aemond and Adalia seem to be happy, at least. You try to be happy for your sister, but somehow you are only reminded of your own failures and your own misery whenever you see the two of them together. You can’t take the suffocating growing feeling inside of you, threatening to tear you apart the way a wolf would tear apart a lamb. Your legs take off, running to the exit of the ballroom when you think no one looks.

When you try to enter the cool and calming gardens of the castle, you bump into a tall silver-haired person that smells unpleasantly. You don’t need to see his face to know it is the Prince’s older brother, Prince Aegon. 

Aegon smirks at your teary face, your trembling hands and your dirty dress enjoying every miserable little minute. ‘’You’re one of the little brats who my brother would marry.’’ He observes, quickly blocking your way to the gardens. 

You sniffle, nodding to confirm, as you know well enough it is rude to not answer a prince.

‘’I-I am. Please let me through.’’

He does not comply. ‘’Shouldn’t you be talking with my brother?’’ He asks. You huff, anger, getting the better of you.

Why does he care? ‘’No. He picked my sister.’’ You say, pointing to the two children who are now enjoying a chocolate cake.

The other prince huffs, annoyed quickly. ‘’You give up so easily? Do you know what’s at stake here?’’

He leans in a little closer, a mischievous spark growing in his eyes. ‘’I’ll let you into a little secret. If you want to hold Aemond’s attention, mention dragons. He never had one, he would do anything for one.’’ Dragons. You know of dragons.

House Targaryen is one of the few surviving houses of old Valyria, where dragons once roamed the big skies. Before the doom. ‘’Anything?’’ You reply, a plan forming in your head.

–

That night, when everyone is asleep, you sneak out of your rooms at the palace. You pass Ada’s bed on the way out, and you can’t help but feel horrible for how you are going to steal her husband and her future away from her. You even tear up, and can barely muffle your cries as you sneak past her. 

On your own, you dress and prepare yourself. Your mission is simple: You will find a dragon, convince it to bring it with you, and offer it as a gift of betrothal to the Prince. He would not even dare to refuse it. It sounds like an amazing plan, and you are pretty proud of yourself for thinking it up. 

There are just a few irons to work out:

You don’t know where dragons are, you don’t know how to bring a dragon home, and you don’t know how to speak with a dragon. But you assume that if you learn one, you learn the other two. It has to be.

You manage to sneak out of the castle easily: No one cares where you go, who you are, or what you come to do. You are a shadow in the light of the Red Keep. And whoever pays attention to shadows? You hear your own footsteps and take comfort into this.

You read in your history books about the Dragon pit, located in King’s Landing. That is where the dragons of the Targaryens are where their riders can’t attend them, and that is where you will go.

It is dark and cold in the city as you walk through it, but no one seems to pay you any mind. That is until you are in front of the huge colossal housing where the dragons stay. You never saw anything like it. It’s structure reminds you a lot of the Red Keep. A memory of a time long ago, long forgotten by most. Two guards outside warn you of trespassers and what will be done to them. 

Both guards seem bored, yet dangerous. You had hoped there would be no security at all, but that might have been wishful thinking. Instead of backing down and rolling over, you think of a plan on how to get inside.

Luckily for you, a huge cart is approaching, with dead animal meat on top of it. Huge slabs of meat, likely meant for the dragons. You make yourself as small as possible. The driver is asked to stop and when the two guards are busy inspecting the meat on intruders, you sneak past them both, into the famous Dragon Pit.

There you avoid most torches, and go from pen to pen. First there is a big goldenlike dragon. It warns you when you approach by flapping it’s wings violently, hissing and warning you. You bet it would impress the prince, but you aren’t stupid enough to even risk that. So, you go onto another pit.

Most dragons you pass do not please you. Most are too big, too dangerous or too scary. You had almost given up your quest entirely when you stumbled upon a small, red with black dragon sitting in a lone pen, straw and food near him. He is as big as four apples, and arguably the smallest dragon you ever saw. It looks weak, tiny, vulnerable. And perfect as a gift for Prince Aemond.

You open the pen, easily and slip inside of the pen, as the dragon cocks its head at you. You withhold a giggle of excitement and glee as you realize that everyone will soon be either impressed or happy with you. 

You approach the dragon, hands out to grab it. The dragon takes a few steps back, watching you very closely but does not fight or breathe fire at you. ‘’Please, dragon. Work with me! Prince Aemond wants a dragon, and I want Prince Aemond to like me.’’ You whisper to the creature that awkwardly stares back at you with its big hollow eyes.

You lean in closer to the hatchling, coming as close that you can smell its poop nearby it and the meat it devoured recently. You watch it twitch it head at you and both your hands come closer to his body, grabbing hold of it firmly.

It seems so tiny. So helpless. 

And so, so threatened by your presence. 

The dragon hisses, before slamming a claw down your face, tearing open your flesh, blood bursting from the wound as you open your mouth. You know you are supposed to be silent. You know this is forbidden. You know you can’t be heard.

But that pain…

The pain of a dragon’s claw, it is the worst pain you ever have been subjected to.

You cry out in agony, pain slashes through you as the claw of the dragon pierces your flesh, cutting deep and unforgiven. Your screams of pain echo through the dragon pit as you back away from the baby hatchling, covering the right side of your face.

When you remove your hands, they are drenched in your own blood. Your face feels as if it was ripped from your very own skin. You pant, heavily, as the dragon follows you around its pen. You finally manage to get back on your feet, your small legs trembling as you make it out of the pen at long last.

Outside of the pen, with the dragon safely behind bars, you fall back to your knees, your pain becoming too much too quickly. Blood is flowing down your face, your dress, your shoes. It drips on the floor and for your own sanity, it feels like it slips between the tiles itself, going into the earth below.

You can only wail and cry in pain as someone approaches, carrying a torch. It appears to be a old man, wearing a classic scribe robe you would see on septons. But this man is no septon. He is a guard to the dragons. He sees your bloodied face, your trembling legs and your shaking body and the dragon who keeps hissing at you from behind bars.

It is all he needs to leave. You assume he is leaving you to die.  Your breath quickens, as panic takes hold of you. But you soon hear three voices, coming closer as you crawl in the direction of the door.

It is the dragon guard. And he brought the two outdoor guards. The dragon guard lifts his torch, shining a light upon your face. You blink back against the sudden warmth and light. The dragon guard mumbles something, and the other two guards look at you speechless as they take in your face.

“It's a girl!” One of them shouts. “Child, what were you doing here?’ He tries to get your attention. You don’t respond. 

You can only look at the crying girl looking back at you in the reflection of his blade, and you see that something ripped her face in half. It is you. It is your face. You cower, making yourself as small as possible as your face keeps stinging, reminding you of your injuries. Of a very bleak looking future without any Prince by your side. Without any approval of your parents. 

Without any husband at all.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------

The dragonguards brought you to the King. It is embarrassing, seeing the entire castle woken up and everyone in their nightclothes for something you did. The King did you give the privilege and kindness to first receive excessive stitching in your face. You were offered milk of the poppy, but your mother denied it. ‘’Let her suffer the consequences of her actions.’’ She said. And so, your skin was pressed back together and stitched with a needle and thread in a slow, torturous manner. The Maester had never seen anything like it, and you could tell most women were horrified to see you like this, scarred and bloody.

All but Rhaenyra Targaryen.

The Princess of Dragonstone seems as furious as her little boy, the owner of the dragon you tried to steal. She resembles her ancestor, Queen Visenya.

You can only cry, no words to defend yourself or your actions come to mind. Your parents are near, yet they stand in the back of the room, disappointment and anger chizeld into their eyes forever. Adalia is near the King and Queen, close to Prince Aemond.

“What were you doing there?’’ King Viserys has a powerful voice that booms through the room as you are finally done with your stitches. What were you doing there? How could you be so stupid?

“Can we discuss this in private?” You ask, your voice soft. You don’t want Aemond to find out. Or your parents for that matter. Anyone but the King.

The king continues his sharp questions, spitting them out as fire. “Why were you trying to steal Prince’s Joffrey's dragon?” You don’t know. You really don’t. Maybe you wanted everyone to stop judging you. To stop pressuring you. To finally be in control for once. And you ruined it all.

“It was all my fault. I didn't know a dragon would be so aggressive.’’ You say, and the King’s harsh features soften, as he takes in your new fresh scars and trembling hands. You can see he feels pity for you.

A voice as sharp as glass cuts through the silence, surprising both his foes and friends. “You know nothing of dragons then.” Prince Aemond sneers. It's somehow even more painful when he scolds you. Unknowingly to him,  you wanted to please him. You wanted him to like you. To pick you as his wife.

And now he is lecturing you as if you are a little stupid girl. You look in the reflection of a sword of the King’s guard from Dorne, seeing your scarred poorly stitched and terribly mangled face. You are just that. A stupid, little girl.

Aemond continues, taking steps in your direction.

“You came into its pen, you threatened it and tried to take it away. Of course it would lash out.” You don’t know anything about dragons. You don’t know much about anything.

You would love your parents near you. To defend you and to hold your hand. But they remain in the back, present but silent. And holding your hands? They won't even look at you. 

For all they are concerned: You are a disgrace, a failure, a disappointment.

You expect to be executed on the spot for your treason. And truth be told? You’d welcome it. Anything to end the pain of your face, of the humiliation and the disappointment your parents feel for you. 

So when Prince Daemon takes out Dark Sister, his famous sword, you just stand there and allow him to approach you.

Queen Alicent is quick to interfere. 

“The girl has been scared. Forever. Lower your blade, Daemon. Even you won’t harm a disabled child.’’ You are shocked at her kindness. Why does she even care, you wonder? She didn’t like you during the ball.

But someone else disagrees firmly with the Queen. It is the Princess. ‘’My sons will have their answer. We must know why she stole the dragon. If not willingly we can always sharply question her.” You know what that means. Torture.

So you start talking, avoiding all eyes, your eyes aimed at your bloodied slippers. “I heard Aemond liked dragons. I wanted to give him one.” You confess, softly. Queen Alicent’s eyes shimmer with tears as she turns to look at her son, the prince who has many eyes on him now.

His face betrays that he is enraged. “You can't gift dragons!” He shouts, instead of taking you for your sacrifice, for your thoughtful gift, for the gesture, for the blood you lost because of him.

“I know that now.’’ You mutter, a tear falling rolling down your scarred cheeks.

Princess Rhaenyra approaches now too, angry and terrifying as a thunderstorm or maybe a big mother dragon. “Why would you give him a dragon? Why did you think my son's dragon was a good gift?” She makes it sound like this was some deliberate attack on her son. You would never. You don’t care for her sons. 

You decide to tell the truth, hoping she will believe you. “Because the others seemed too big. This one seemed harmless.” You feel all eyes on you as you fumble with your hands.

“And because…Aemond had to pick a wife…and…” Briefly, your air is cut off as you sob, your emotions becoming too much. “I wanted it to be me.” Followed by a final plea. ‘’I’m sorry!’’ You shout.

If Rhaenyra cared, she has become quite good at not showing it. “What will we do with her, father? She tried to steal my son's dragon.” This is madness. She thinks that this was some plot to hurt her, to hurt her sons, her claim to the Throne. That was not what this was. This was a desperate act.

Queen Alicent scoffs in disbelief at her words, as if she can’t believe what the Princess is saying. “For Aemond. To please him. I fully believe there was no ill will in Ethel's heart.” She adds. “She only did what she thought was right.”

Rhaenyra glances at Alicent, but her glares are for you and you alone. She turns her silver braided head in the direction of your silent parents. ‘’What do the parents think?’’ You gulp.

Your mother steps forward first. ‘’In all truth, we are disappointed and grieved by Ethel’s stupidity. We fully believe she is not capable of marrying any noble.’’ Your mother says. ‘’We certainly cannot approve of a marriage between her and House Targaryen anymore. We all ask that we may leave with Adelia and our heads on our shoulders. You may do with Ethel as you wish.’’ Your head fills with horrible images of you losing your head, or rotting away in a prison cell.

You don’t feel well. You feel as if you can pass out any moment now. ‘’’Mother,’’ you manage to squeak. ‘’You can’t mean that.’’ Yet your mother turns away, ignoring you as if you don’t exist. It is the cruelest thing she has ever done to you.

‘’Will you disown Ethel?’’ Alicent asks, and at that point, you start crying to a hysterical angle. You can’t handle being alone. You can’t be alone. Your twin sister is perfectly silent by Aemond’s side, a faint smile on her lips. 

Your mother glances one time at your face. ‘’I will do as the King wants.’’ She says.

The King glares. Not at you, however. At your parents. At your mother, your father, even at your sister. To you, he only speaks. “We will spare you. But we can't allow a marriage between you and Prince Aemond, not any other Targaryen.” You had figured that one out already.

Aegon snorts, reminding everyone that that weasel is present. “As if he even wanted her anymore.”

King Viserys ignores his son, standing up from the Iron throne. ‘’We must all rest now. The hour has grown late and I’m sure Ethel wants to forget this has even happened.’’ 

The Princess chases her father, her black and red skirts lifted so she may go faster. 

‘’Father-’’ She smiles but this time her father does not fall for it.

‘’The matter, has been settled, Rhaenyra.’’

You are returned to your rooms after. You don’t even dare to glance at the Princess, convinced you made a powerful enemy for life.

—

You are cooling your face with a towel, still somehow crying, minutes later. “Where is Ada?” You ask as your parents enter. They had an argument. You heard both of them scream and things break. 

The towel brings small comfort but the pain is unbearable. “Ada has been removed from her Chambers. She is living with the royal family. And that is for the best. You could ruin it all again. Forever  this time.” Your mother warns you. You roll your eyes.

She gasps at your audacity, before she sits down, grabbing you by your freshly stitched face. You yelp in pain. “We are already a minor house. Our coffins are nearing their bottom. And to top it all you now have a hideous scar that makes you unattractive and reminds every man how stupid you truly are.” She hisses, close to strangling you. 

‘’Resa, let her go.’’ Your father begs your mother. ‘’The king warned us if anything happened to her, he would know.’’ Why does the King even care? 

Your mother stops her actions, as if only now realizing what she did in a wave of anger. She turns her back to you, her first born child. ‘’You disgust me.’’ She whispers before she leaves. 

Ada and you never became close again after the incident. She blamed you for trying to ruin her chance at becoming a princess and you blamed her for ignoring you and shutting you out when your entire world was on fire.

—-------------

present

You watch the wine splash around in your cup. ‘’What do you want?’’ You ask your twin sister. Your sister raises her chin, trying to intimidate you. She has no idea what you've been through, however but you are not impressed. 

‘’I want you to attend my wedding to prince Aemond.’’ Ah, yes. Aemond. The man you lost your eye for. The man who you became a scarred mess for. The man who changed your life.

You can’t and don’t want anything to do with him anymore. ‘’I heard men lie better than that.’’ You say. ‘’Whatever you want, it’s not my support when that Valyrian scum fucks you.’’ You become distant and eye her room for anything unusual. You notice a vanity with an excessive bouquet of flowers, likely a gift from her husband to be. You notice your eyes glide to the hair bracelet around your wrist, where black, dornish locks hang. You try to hide your smirk, but you fail.

‘’I am serious. I want your support.’’ She says, using her big puppy eyes. ‘’Mother and father died so suddenly.’’ There is an accusation there. You had nothing to do with it. In a way. Sort of. Kind of. Ok, it was your fault, but you didn’t use the daggers. That was someone else. 

You know it is risky for you to stay at the castle. But you want to see how her marriage with Aemond is treating her. You tell yourself that lie, feeding it your brain, repeating it until it becomes the truth. You feel your tattoo ache on your back, the one you had Aros put there years ago. You want revenge, in truth. But you can’t let Ada know that. Sweet, doe-eyed Ada would never let anything happen to her Aemond, her precious Prince. 

You try to think back of the last time you felt sadness. ‘’It was a great tragedy. I regret missing their funeral, but as you know, I was not allowed back in the estate.’’ You need to cough. Your sister however thinks you have become emotional and rubs your back. 

She takes a deep breath as if what she says costs her great energy. ‘’I regret the way we parted, Ethel.’’ Not Ethel.

‘’So do I.’’ You lie smoothly. You do, but it is easier to convince yourself that this is just another harmless lie. You won’t allow yourself to see it as a truth.

Adalia does not notice and pulls you in a hug. You notice her eyes close, but yours are wide open. ‘’You may take a bath.’’ She says after the hug has ended. ‘’You …smell.’’ She adds, softly. You chuckle, scoffing a bit but agreeing. You smell.

She stops in her tracks. ‘’After that, we must talk. We have much to discuss. I want my sister to be near me when I become a Princess.’’ You are confused. Didn't you just talk? You were right. She wants more from you. Much more.

—

You are even allowed to use her bathroom when your sister is busy arranging a room for you. You fill the bath to the brim and toss in three different bars of soap, and wait for the bubbles to appear. You drop out of your dress, putting your golden dagger in your boots. You also raid your sister’s closet, searching for pretty fabrics and bottles of wine. You find a delicious Dornish well-aged bottle, likely a gift from one lord or the other. You pop the bottle open and take a big swing, lying down in the warm bath, drinking freely from the bottle as the soap bars continue to create bubbles. You could get used to this. 

The door is pushed open after a few minutes. Your eyes shoot open and you reach for your boot, for your dagger to see who is approaching. Once you see who it is, you are shocked. You did hear rumors he lost his eye. A blessing, you called it. You remember treating the whole bar on a drink when you heard it the first time. Aros was furious you spent so much gold, but he did forgive you, and once he heard the news too, he bought everyone a second round.

Prince Aemond has interrupted your drinking and bath moment, staring at your bare naked chest as if he never saw a pair of tits before. You lower your hands, back in the warm water and pick the bottle back up and take another sip of the bottle, daring him to speak up. 

He doesn't. He seems shocked yet fascinated by what he found in his fiancee’s bathtub. You have had many men look at you that way before. You know what is on his mind.

You don't even attempt to cover yourself. “O. You're not…” He begins, soft and gentle with his way of speaking to you. You recall how he yelled at you, how he screamed at you. So you don’t even blink. 

You raise your eyebrows, picking up the soap and continuing where you left off before he interrupted. “Clearly. Did you hear about this wonderful invention?” You ask, when cleaning your arms. Fascinated, he watches, shaking his head, his cheeks growing warmer and warmer.

“No.” He breathes, as you lower the soapbar underwater. You grab it, throwing it at his head. It hits him, perfectly, as he quickly backs away.

You scowl, lecturing him angrily. “It's called knocking. People usually do that before storming in.’’ You dryly respond.

Prince Aemond gawks, looking at you and the door, you and the door, the door and you and finally decides it's for the best to leave. “I-, yes.” He says. ‘’It’s just…I haven’t seen you in years and…You’ve grown.’’ Clearly.

As much as you enjoy him flustered over your body, you do have more things to do.  “Where is your brother?’’ You ask. ‘’I have things to discuss.’’ You smile, and you watch Aemond’s gleeness die in a mere moment, jealousy breaking out of him.

‘’My brother?” He asks, dumbfounded. Aros needs a new ship. Aegon has money. Aros is not stupid, Aegon is, there is the end of the story.

You smile, sweetly, tilting your head. ‘’Are you deaf too?’’

He approaches, anger getting the better of him. You can’t even move but if you could, you wouldn’t have done that either. You just smirk, enjoying his little worked up face and angry pouty lips.

‘’I’m your Prince.’’ He reminds you, firmly. ‘’You will grant me your respect.’’ You have one prince. It is not Aemond.

You laugh, empty and shallow. ‘’No you’re not. You made that choice years ago. You choose wrong, little princeling.’’ You continue, taking another sip from the bottle. ‘’I made my own happiness. I don’t know what my sister wants from me yet, but I am not interested in feeding that brat if she was dying of hunger in a desert.’’ 

‘’Our interests align, then.’’ He leans on the tub with his hands, coming closer to your naked body. His voice becomes a soft, breakable plea. ‘’I want my freedom back.’’ You laugh, enjoying his misery. ‘’I should’ve chosen you. I didn’t know how she was.’’ He adds. There it is. Words you always dreamt of hearing.

Yet this marriage is old as stone, and it is likely that Prince Aemond has tried to talk his mother out of it before. ‘’The marriage is an old agreement. How do you plan to break it, Prince Aemond?’’ 

‘’I was hoping you’d know that.’’ He says. ‘’I heard you are quite the clever girl.’’ You roll your eyes. Did he really think that would work? No wonder he is in a arranged marriage. This man couldn't seduce a wife if his life depended on it.

‘’Hah! Flattery won’t get you anywhere with me. I am not a weak little doe eyed girl.’’ You tell him.

He doesn’t respond, looking at your wrist. ‘’Whose hair are you wearing around your wrist?’’ Aros. Yet you won't tell him. It is bad that he notices. The hair is a tradition among sea folks, people who travel a lot and yes; pirates. You cut off a lock of your own hair, so your loved one may tie it around their wrist, keeping you near them in a way.

‘’Please answer me, Adder.’’ For the first time during your time in the Red Keep, your head twists, shock written across your face as you look at Aemond’s smirking pink lips. He adressed you by your nickname. He knows. But how much?

Prince Aemond smirks. You glare, putting the bottle aside, as this has just become a serious conversation. One of life and death. You reach for your boots, showing him your dagger. He chuckles, delighted. ‘’Oh, that’s a adorable little blade. Did your boyfriend give you that?’’ He asks, mockingly. 

It is true. You are not Ethel. You have become the first mate and paramour of Aros Blackwaters, the fearless Dornish pirate that captured your heart. You have stolen from royal and merchant ships belonging to many nations and kingdoms, including the Seven Kingdoms.

You sigh. ‘’I am not his girlfriend. I am his paramour.’’ 

‘’So, his slut.’’ He remarks, unimpressed. 

You roll your eyes. He’s such a simpleminded man. ‘’What do you want with Aros?’’ Although, it is pretty obvious. He is a pirate. Aros regularly attacks Westerosi ships.

Aemond pretends to think. ‘’I am certain he can be of use on a rainy day.’’ He chuckles. You are silent.

‘’Aros never told you, did he?’’ 

You only look at him. Aemond leans in closer.

‘’He’s not just any Dornish man. He’s the bastard of Qoren Nymeros Martell. His first born bastard at that.’’ He pats your wet hand, as if rewarding you. ‘’Congratulations, your pirate boyfriend is the runaway prince of Dorne.’’ He reveals as if this isn’t already known to you at all.

You glare at the ceiling, smacking his hand away from your own. ‘’Touch me again and become known as Aemond one-hand as well.’’ You warn him. ‘’Aros never liked his family or his birthright. I’m telling him of you and your plans.’’ It is true. He would never help Aemond.

He smirks, a bit darker as he takes in your body. 

‘’Do that. If I put you in a nice, dark cell, your boyfriend will come here and I’ll finally be able to jail him for his crimes, or worse, depending on my mood.’’ You know he would. You know he could. Aros would save you. He would risk his life for you. He is just as stupid as Aemond is.

You glare. Aemond leans closer, his lips coming closer to your ear so he can whisper. ‘’Now, I don’t want to hurt you. But for the sake of my family, for duty, for the crown, for the greater good? I will run you through with my sword and make that little scar of yours look like a adorable little accident.’’ You scoff.

‘’Looks like the gods gave you your own little adorable scar.’’ You remark, making him much more upset than before. He growls, clutching the bathtub to avoid hurting you personally. ‘’Although, I’m the lucky one. I at least have my wits so I can make my own happiness. But you, a little boy who always seeks validation from others? I pity you.’’ you whisper, brushing your fingers over his cheeks. He does not pull away. ‘’I despise you.’’ You add. 

He only smirks. ‘’Soon I don't need validation. I will have it all. And more. You can either play along with my games and my plans, serve me and my brother well-’’ You frown, turning your head.

‘’Serve?’’ He makes it sound so sexual.

Aemond slightly blushes. ‘’Well, do our dirty work.  I promise you, we won’t need help in the bedroom.’’ You see another plan forming in your head, one where you and Aron take the throne from the two princes, and sit it.

You nod, smiling. ‘’No, you do have both your hands.’’

He glares. He rolls his eyes, eying the heavens as if to ask the gods why he is forced to work with you. ‘’Or I will reveal you for the Pirate that you are, for the war criminal you are, and will see you hanged at dawn.’’ How romantic.

‘’I have never received a more moving proposal-’’ Your mockery is interrupted by your own thoughts. ‘’What do we do about my sister?’’ You ask.

Aemond smiles, mischievously. ‘’I might take her flying later, you of all people should know just how dangerous dragons can truly be.’’

A/N

Who's gonna listen when you run out of lies? Who's gonna hear you, when your words seem worthless? Who's gonna save you when you're out of time? And who's gonna want you, when you're on your knees, begging

"Oh, please take me at my word, I'm desperate I swear, I never meant to hurt no one, no Oh, please stay for what it's worth, I'm desperate" You're on your own

So don't you call my name I will take you down Should've known that you've been dancing with a wolf So don't you call my name I will take you down I'm not your friend, you burned a bridge I chew you up and spit you out

Really captures this fic really well.

I hope yall liked this little one shot!

:) i was inspired by @valeskafics latest aemond/aegon/witch reader thingy and wanted to make something!:) Hope yall liked it and im sorry for leaving for so long. mental health is kicking my butt.

#hotd #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd x reader #hotd x you #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond smut #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #hotd x oc #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #violence #blood #gore #typical got violence

[hammerhead-jpg]

When you're trying to read a redacted fic that has asher in it but it's like this every paragraph:

"Asher tossed his luscious golden lemon cream saffron citrine school bus yellow 2A fine locKs back with his arms that were so thin a person could mistakenly floss their teeth with them, trying to style his hair back into the squilliam eyebrow esque hairstyle he usually fancies. The way that the sun hit him made his blue orbs shine like sapphires, and his pale Caucasian skin glimmered like snow blindness. He looked exactly like a 18 year old TikTok thirstrapper."

#yes offense #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted asher #redacted asher talbot #btw in my mind the last line is a reference to how in my immortal you have phrases like 'he looked exactly like Joel Madden'