#Grape Growing Stages

[woso-dreamzzz]

World Cup III

Magdalena Eriksson x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Sweden vs USA

Usually, you go with Momma to her camp for international break or back to Denmark to spend time with Momma's parents. But, this year, it's the World Cup and you're with Morsa.

Sweden camp is a little strange, a lot stranger than Denmark camp. At Denmark camp, Momma lets you have free reign so long as you're within eye line of one of her teammates.

Morsa, on the other hand, doesn't let you wander. She keeps your hand tight in her own as she introduces you to everyone.

You know a lot of them already though from your visits but this is the first time that you're actually been around them a lot.

Much to Morsa's annoyance, you stick quite firm to the Arsenal Swedes and then to Amanda when you find out that she's now signed for Arsenal.

If you're not with them then you're with your moster (aunt) Frido, who shares you room in Sweden with Morsa.

"There she is," Captain Caroline says one morning as you hold Frido's hand tight as you wait for her to fill your breakfast plate," Future Captain of Sweden, my little protégé."

You don't quite understand what that means but you know it kind of means that you'll be like her when you're older.

"Don't let Pernille find out you've said that," Johanna says from further down the line," She almost slapped me when I told her that y/n will be a Swedish international."

"That doesn't sound like Pernille," Filippa says, frowning as she moves to take your plate from Frido and put some grapes on it before passing it off to Nathalie to add more to.

"Momma says that I have forever to choose the right team," You say as you go up on your tiptoes to see what juice options there are. Morsa and your aunties usually have weird-tasting protein drinks but you don't like that so the cooks have started to leave juice out in the mornings for you.

"And that Morsa should stop trying to convince me to play for Sweden just because she's ego-eg...er, just because she's tistical...no...er...Because she's got a big head."

"Who's got a big head?" Morsa joins you all now, looking freshly showered.

"You, apparently," Linda scoffs.

Morsa looks confused, brow furrowed in a way that Momma likes to joke you do too. She feels her head. "I don't get it. Who said that?"

You smile, skipping away from Frido to hold her hand. "No one."

"You're up to something, princesse."

You shake your head. "No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

Morsa gives you a long, considering look before deciding to drop it. "Who's got your breakfast? You need to eat if you're going to grow up big and strong like me and play for Sweden."

She goes back to looking confused when the whole team starts laughing at her.

She doesn't get the joke through the entirety of camp and all through the flight to Australia. The World Cup beginning takes her mind off of it and you flip-flop between staying with her and staying with Momma.

The highlight of your World Cup so far is meeting Keira Walsh and getting her and Mary Earps' shirts. It's a feeling like no other and you ride that high all the way back to the Swedish Camp and all through the rest of their group stage.

You only really tune back in to what your Morsa is doing when she goes up against America.

The day starts like any other. You're carted into breakfast by Nilla, who proclaims you the team's good luck charm (and they'll need all the luck they can get going against the US).

"If you win today, Zećira," You say, as Frido wipes your mouth" Can I have your special gloves?"

"If we win," Zećira says," Then you can have absolutely anything you want."

You arrive at the stadium in the coach and Morsa changes you into your special Eriksson shirt and lets you go around the locker room giving everyone hugs and kisses - you take extra care to give your favourite Arsenal girls, your moster Frido and Zećira the biggest ones.

You return to Morsa and hug her tight. Just like all her World Cup matches, you walk out as her mascot and give her a big kiss before kick off where you scamper off to the bench.

Lina isn't starting today so you stick close to her side on the bench as she sits you on her lap so you can see everything. She tells you that the US are the reigning champions and are very good so this match means a lot.

America rains down on your team and you crane your head to watch as Zećira pulls off another amazing save.

You want to be like that one day, playing as the first keeper for your country. You want to be just like Zećira and save all the goals that come your way.

It's nearing the end of the first half and there's still no goal on either side. The US continues to attack Morsa's defence and Zećira's goal but can't quite get it passed.

A few times Lina covers your eyes when she thinks America is going to score but they're all false alarms.

The game falls into half-time fairly quickly and you're relegated back to the locker room to regroup.

"Come here, princesse."

Morsa seems a bit sad and down and you ragdoll to let her pick you up and squeeze. When she lets you go, she cups your cheek. "I'm going to get you another medal," She says," We're not going out here."

"I don't need another one," You say softly," I'm happy with my one now."

Morsa shakes her head. "No, no. I will get you another one. You're going to get a medal in every World Cup I play until you're old enough to earn your own. We aren't letting them knock us out."

Morsa's determined now and you just nod.

You weave your way through the group of girls until you're in front of Zećira. You don't say anything, just crash into her arms and give her the best hug you can manage.

The second half goes much the same as the first and you have to let go of Lina for her to go onto the pitch so you end up attached to Johanna who's just come off and holds you so tight that you almost can't breathe.

That feeling persists in your chest as the game ends in penalties.

The team lines up by the edge of the pitch. You stand in the very middle as you watch on.

Zećira goes the right way for the US's first shot but misses out on the save. But moster Frido keeps Sweden level with her own goal. Horan gets the next goal but Elin scores back.

You shift anxiously on your feet, scuffing your shoes on the grass.

Kristie, who you know dates Sam, scores one past Zećira and you have to hold your breath as Nathalie misses her shot. You only release it when the US also fail to score their next goal but then suck in another one when Naeher saves Rebecka's.

With Smith missing her own and Hanna scoring, you feel more content again.

Naeher scores then it's Morsa's turn.

You bite at your lip and play with your Eriksson jersey as Morsa does her little runup.

The ball flies into the top corner of the goal and you smile.

O'Hara misses and then Lina...Maybe scores?

You don't understand what's going on.

"They're checking VAR," Caroline says as she crouches by you," Because Lina's goal might have already gone over the line before Naeher saved it."

The whole stadium is silent as the ref listens to what they're saying in her ear.

You grab hold of Caroline in one hand and Johanna in the other.

The ref makes an odd gesture and suddenly you're being thrown into the air and Johanna's running with you in her arms.

Everyone converges on Lina and then on you, giving you kisses and spinning you around. You slip away before Morsa can trap you with her own love and run to your favourite goalkeeper in the whole wide world.

You skid to a stop as Naeher wildly gestures to the ref.

Zećira pulls a glove off her hand and claps her palm against Naeher's before lifting you up so you can do the same.

She throws you into the air like Johanna did and catches you. You're placed safely on the ground again as a cameraman catches the moment Zećira kneels in front of you and pulls her gloves onto your hands.

"We won," Morsa says to you.

"You had a good goal," You say, easily falling into her embrace.

"I sense a but?" She teases and you look down at the gloves still on your hands.

"But Zećira was the best today. I'm going to be the best like her one day too."

"Of course you are."

[tiredwitchplant]

Everything You Need to Know About Crystals: Amethyst

Amethyst (“The World’s Most Popular Purple Gem”)

Color: Dark Vivid Purple to Pale Lilac

Hardness: 7

Rarity: Easy to Acquire

Type: Quartz

Chakra Association: Third Eye, Crown

Deities: Buddha, Dionysus, Diana, Artemis

Birthstone: February

Astrological Signs: Pisces, Aries and Aquarius

Element: Air

Planet: Jupiter

Origin: USA, Britain, Canada, Brazil, Mexico, Russia, Sri Lanka, Uruguay, East Africa, Siberia, India

Powers: Pride, Sobriety, Peace, Spirit World, Protection, Celibacy, Luck, and Homesickness

Crystals It Works Well With: Ametrine, Citrine, and Moonstone

How It Is Created: Amethyst receives its color beginning at the crystal’s growth. At the first stage, trace amounts of iron are incorporated into the crystal as it starts to grow. After the crystallization starts, gamma rays are emitted by radioactive materials within the host rock and the irradiated iron gives the amethyst its beautiful purple color.

History: One of the earliest references to amethyst is in the Old Testament book of Exodus as it is mentioned that one of the stones in the breastplate of Aaron the High Priest was an amethyst. There is not a clear indication to where the name comes from but it is said that it is derived from the Greek word “amethyst” which means “not drunk”. Despite this, it is associated with the god, Dionysus, because the purple hue of the crystal looks like delicious grape wine. Wine goblets were carved of this stone to prevent drunkenness. There is also a Greek lore involving Dionysus with a young girl named Amethyst. The lore reads:

“Dionysus was angry one day and swore that he would exact his revenge on the next mortal that came by. He created several tigers, informed him of their mission and went his way. As it would happen, a lovely young girl named Amethyst was the next to come by, on her way to pay homage to Artemis and was attacked. Artemis quickly changed the girl into a statue of solid quartz. When Dionysus returned to see what he had wrought, he was overcome with remorse and wept tears of purple wine which flowed over the statue, staining it permanently.”

The color was also in demand throughout history since the color purple is associated with royalty and was worn by royals in Egypt and Europe. In some traditions, Catholic Bishops wear amethyst rings to symbolize their piety and celibacy, and rosaries are still fashioned with this stone.

What It Can Do:

Excellent focal point for meditation and scrying

Used to unlock mysteries and figure out spiritual matters, such as death and rebirth

Helps cleanses, purify and heal the body, spirit, and mind

Balances emotions and prevents nightmares

Useful for spells to help let go of addictions

Uses on the tip of wands for healing and can produce high spiritual energy

Brings a sense of calm and clarity

Helps with decision making

Can open your third eye and connect to the crown chakra

Protects the mind from dark magic

A gateway stone to connecting with the spirit world

Helps with transmitting energies to a specific point

How to Get the Best Out of Amethyst: Wearing it on your person with a bracelet or necklace. Putting amethyst on bare skin invites the stone to release its vibrations directly into the body, amplifying its power.

How to Cleanse and Charge Amethyst:

To cleanse: Leave your Amethyst stone placed under the light of the full Moon for a whole night, that is, about 8 hours

To charge: It can also be recharge via the moon so just leaving it in the moonlight can do double duty.

Crystal Grid:

Protection and Cleansing (Hexagram)

Amethyst

Selenite

Snow Quartz

Hold your crystals in your hands and state your intention for the grid.

Lay the first triangle, placing clearing crystals on each point.

Join up the points and spray the grid with clearing essence.

Lay the light-bringing crystals in an overlocking triangle over the top of the first. Join up the points, starting with the first crystal you laid.

Place your keystone in the center, stating your intention once more.

Sources

[soraviie]

you're oblivious.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader  ━ masterlist

━ about: fluff + crack  ━  pictures taken from Pinterest

━ a/n: lowkey inspired by a video of Hoseok being oblivious to BTS. Literary wise is not that complicated but it's humourous

━ previously posted on soraviii

NAMJOON:

sAVE HIM

Literally 

He’s struggling so bad bro it’s not even funny 

Fights the battle against your ignorance on two sides

By night, he’s your suave secret admirer, leaving behind finely crafted letters of adoration that would put the brightest of the Romantic Age into a second grave

By day, he’s fucking shitting himself

Knees weak, palms sweaty, mom’s spaghetti 

“This is made of silk,” he tugs at his own shirt during a short elevator ride

“Hmm,” comes your reply and from the gleam in your eye, he might just bear this suspicion you’re orbiting Mars right now

Alas he can’t stop

Because Holy SHIT! You’re here! Hi!

(truthfully, in the beginning, he was somehow much more put together, wowing you with sleazy smiles, breathy laughs and all the glory of that fuckboy gene that sleeps somewhere in his DNA but after that flew over your head and he listened to a podcast about the scarcity of sincere romantic gestures and the respect of polite admiration, the attempts to seduce you grow exponentially worse with time)

“It’s not velvet because it doesn’t feel velvety. Or tweed. Because obviously, it’s not…tweedy.”

“I see,” you conclude, dead to the world. “Have a nice day, Mr Kim.”

Watches you leave, bites on his fist, bites on his shirt, sulks the day away

plEASE just let him talk to you, I beg

Wants to hear your opinion, your insights, what you like and dislike, everything

Thus he tries to break the ice by initiating the dumbest subjects

“Grape?” he leans against the table, a total playboy. “Thoughts?”

“Of a singular grape?” you clarify

He sweats. “yEah.”

“None,” you reply flatly

So think a teenage boy with a crush but more wholesome

If he’s ever seen talking to you and/or trying to subtly touch you (which is another thing on its own) know that the last twenty minutes were spent shitting, screaming, vomiting

Ah! The Touching!

Tries to be subtle and casual - a hand over your shoulder because of some vague reasons, plays with your clothes a lot while pointing out this looks pretty on you 

HAND! ON! LOWER! WAIST!

The excuse is he’s just guiding you where you need to be 

And where you need to be is in his arms

And his bed he's actually so horny for you damn checking out left and right and then feeling conflicted over it because as a man...!

All this circus is, of course, detrimental to everyone’s mental health 

It is deeply painful to watch

Yoongi probably goes around citing the long-term health damage this inflicts upon him 

In the end, Namjoon is ousted by someone in the group. Anonymously but still the e-mail “Go out with Namjoon, he’s the one writing the letters. You have 24 hours.” is accompanied by “sent from Jimin’s iPhone”

YOONGI:

What have you done

You’ve created a monster!

When the saccharine first stage of catching feelings is gone with no results, honey boy, shyly twitching and squirming at every sentence, smiling softly at you in the distance, is no longer

This is Min Yoongi a.k.a. Agust D a.k.a. don’t wear converse a.k.a. the infamous Tokyo deliverer

Because, yes, Yoongi is not the stone-cold bastard everyone thinks he is, he’s actually a caring, considerate man interested in the simple life not the grand scheme of the universe

But you must remember - what Yoongi wants, Yoongi gets

You’ve ever seen shameless Min Yoongi?

Lord

He will not give a single shit

Will sit in your lap even with 1000 chairs available, invites you to dinner all the time with some handwavy excuse

Turns into his version of a whore (wears one layer instead of three)

(tight, white t-shirts displaying the Min Buffgi agenda, hello)

Points at a tattoo parlour and says you should get each other’s names engraved then he sort of laughs but does he??

Has  created a ship name for you and does bring it up at any moment he pleases to be fit which is coincidentally all the time

Definitely says “this is because I like you” in passing

But all in all, you can sEE it in HIS EYES!

They sparkle! 

Requests your presence like a tyrannical king if he’s feeling down

Gives you probably weirdly affectionate names like “heater” or “vitamin water” meaning you make him warm and energized

Sorry, he just can’t get anything like “honey” past his lips so “solar panel” it is

To keep you around him longer plays his favourite version of the game "two truths one lie" which is "all lie, pure shit"

Basically says the most blatantly untrue shit so you would sit and debate that coconuts in fact do not migrate due to birds

Sometimes he's still not up to talk and wants to just submerge himself in the music but even so, oftentimes he's okay with you chilling on the couch doing your own thing

Basically having a crush for him means wanting head pats and then doing the absolute most to receive them (while taking good care of you in turn)

JIN: 

Clings

He doesn't usually do that so that's how everyone knows something's up

Back hugs because it’s cold, back hugs because it’s warm, it’s raining in Madagascar, he doesn’t care

Paradoxically, says the most ego-inflated things whilst sweltering red like a forest fire

“Look at me, haven’t I passed even my normal rate of attractiveness? I’m definitely 12 today,” says he whilst pushing hair out of his forehead, thus showcasing the flaming ears

He will NOT! have anyone embarrass him during this crucial time!

If any one of these degenerates opens their foul fucking mouth to spill the practice conversation he had between himself and the mirror, he will kICK THEM INTO THE SUN!

Lame, couple puns

All the time

Neverending

He has to rehash them after a while

Really wants to make you laugh :(

Wants your compliments so bad, he's fishing for them every second of the day

hehe fishing get it because he likes to fish

“Doesn’t this shirt match my hair?” he asks

“Hmm. You look like a grapefruit.”

Turns away in shame, palm over mouth

Definitely hands RJ so you could watch over him

It’s his child so he wants only the most elite care and seeing you play with the plush has him melting in heart-shaped goo

Ooo! Smooth Jin has entered the station! He’s boarding the train! Look at him go!

Whispers in your ear, establishes his dominance over the seat next to you, makes up the most random bullshit for you to touch him - can you adjust this, adjust that, could you help him brush his hair etc.

Oh, and if you don’t take proper care of yourself, he activates his strict care mode

You know those moments when Jin becomes The Eldest? Hot

“All life is precious,” says with a frown but one born out of worry standing in front of you, arms on hips as you sit there with your head hung low. “Your’s even more so don’t be careless with it.”

But after scolding he treats you either via food or by saying he's just worried for you

Definitely offers to do something for you and throws fake tantrums about it

"Ah, __________, I can't believe you're making me pay for this meal!"

"I'm not ??? I can pay for my own share if your rich ass is so stingy."

Pouts to the max -

"Yah, you don't think I can take care of you?! Yah, you're underestimating me. Oh, ____________ you won't be underestimating ever again!"

HOSEOK:

Doesn’t embarrass himself quite as much as the rest 

He’s actually kinda chill about it

Perhaps because he’s been the oblivious one in the past and he’s reserved himself

And he doesn’t want to overwhelm you or make you uncomfortable

One word that comes to mind - solid

(not that, you pervert)

Trustworthy you know

Offers a ride everywhere whenever he can especially from home to work and back

Do you need something? He’s got it. Do you want extra help? He’ll do it

You're sad?

He'll cheer you up in no time

So really becomes like your rock

Starts nonsensical conversations as well but unlike Namjoon he actually succeeds

“This one they had in pink last year, it was all over Instagram. How is it purple now?”

“Dunno,” you look at the flowers. “Maybe different species. Maybe they repainted them. Purple is trendy right now.”

“Haha, borahae.”

Then plucks one flower and tugs it behind your ear

“There. Pretty.”

Feeds you a lot, really attentive

Doesn’t really care what you see him as for now - a friend or a helpful guy - as long as you’re living good, he’s happy :’)

The only thing giving away his crush is the constant playing with his ears to alleviate nervousness

And the handmade jewellery, for sure has by now given you ten to twelve handmade bracelets which he nearly passed away when gifting

Whenever he sees them on your wrists gets ultra shy but happy cause this might actually happen in due time

JIMIN:

Did I say save Namjoon? Save this guy

You don’t know what his deal is? He doesn’t either

Know of his duality? Prepared to be exposed to it on a rhythmic rotation from here on out

Was he just yesterday, playing with your earring, whispering in a sultry, whiny tone:

“Why don’t you like me, __________?”

“I do like you.”

“You could like me a bit more. I would really like it if you would.”

And is he now, on this fine fucking day, hiding behind Namjoon whispering into his ear to tell you you’re doing a great job?!

Yes. 

He’s feeling shy today :(

Lingering touches all the time

It’s a scientific fact published in the new issue of an international medical journal - if he’s going ten minutes without touching you, his kidneys, lungs, stomach and tendons experience abrupt and painful deterioration 

So you better get your ass here asap :)

He’s stretching? Somehow hugging you. You’re sitting? His hand is on your thigh

HAND! ON! THE! THIGH!

It's like an entirely new brand of love for him and there are many different flavours to this

Calming, comforting, jealous, they’re mine back off

Cutely annoys you for attention

Like standing in the doorway, asking you 1000 times if he’s cute or not, sing songs your name for no reason

Oh my god, mentions your name at random times of the day, sometimes while singing, sometimes improvising a tune, sometimes just underneath his breath

You're always on his mind, so naturally, it sits on his tongue all the time as well

A stream nay an ocean of compliments, not just to you but to everyone whose listening

Or is forced to listen

Like Taehyung whose ear he has yapped off already

Because to him, you are the best and everyone else should also think that

“Hey, isn’t ___________ so cool these days?” “You always look so bright!” “Thank you, _____________, you’re an angel! We can be a fairy angel duo!”

And then the other shoe drops

Shameless Jimin is a menace and a half

Biting his lips, laughing breathily, sorta being a dom

“Don’t pout, _________, brats don’t get awards” :)

“You should look only at me, got it” :)

Just really sweet, cute, menacing, really caring and attentive if you’re feeling down

Oh and lest we forget his special soft whiny voice! In full throttle when you’re around

“_________, we should be around each other for a very long time.”

TAEHYUNG: 

:)

:)

:)

Does this seem menacing? Because Taehyung is

Where does one even start with this little shit?

Says the most heinous, out-of-pocket shit. 

“__________, I want to see what our children would look like.”

And if you somehow manage to not see it, when Taehyung is as subtle as the asteroid that plunged Earth into the Ice age, that’s fine he’s just going to be even bolder :)

Treats it almost like a game

The more oblivious you are, the more he’ll hammer through the walls of blindness :) don’t worry :) he’ll succeed next time :)

Unlike Jimin who probably has a laugh of “how they’re so blind”, his laugh says “you’re so cute :) I’ll get you next time”

Gift giving!

Waffles, flowers, little jewellery brought with no excuse or explanation

Always ropes you into doing something together, even if it’s something silly

He’s confident but it is warm and yeah kind of cocky but with no malice behind it

It’s like he’s oozing a pink romantic light from within

Watches out for you, like proper gentleman stuff - walks on the side of the road in case of splashes, pulls out the chair, waits for you to finish work to accompany you home 

But no personal space you just have to live with it

If there’s music can and will dance with you ranging from a slow waltz to nuzzling you whilst swaying

Definitely does weird things like if you bump into something, he must “inspect the damage” which means sitting you down and lowkey and respectfully admiring you and softly touching you (in appropriate places, you pervs)

If he annoys you so much, you threaten to put him in a chokehold, he looks like a man in the gate of Heaven

Honey, darling, lovely is a must

Has his gallery full of pictures of you (taken consensually) though I always imagine them as being super blurry

He's a blurry sorta guy

Says he misses you a lot even if you haven't gone anywhere

Definitely has had a conversation about your past lives and that you must have met at some point

He’s persistent but not in a creepy way, only does this much because he sees you being oblivious but not weirded out by all these gestures

Definitely and 100% insists that his angel brought you to him 

JUNGKOOK:

If there wouldn’t be a child protection squad engaged at all times, he would have already snapped his neck trying to impress you

Giggles a lot!

Sort of jokes about it

Like if you somehow end up lying next to each other, he will say something like “oo the air changes, it’s becoming heavy”

Definitely adds your gestures to the infinite list to mimic

But genuinely does pick up your habits because he’s watching you a lot

Protective! To the max!

If you’re scared of anything, anything at all, be it a stranger or a moth, he’ll be there to avert the threat

Calls you his dog’s other parent for sure and instructs Bam especially to protect you

Very cuddly once he gets to know you

At first not really talkative mostly just reacts to you, laughing along your jokes, commenting on how good you’re doing something but then asks for your opinions, invites you to play games and such

If you’re mad at him - the literal impersonation of 🥺

Holds your hand while walking sometimes and then teases himself for it???

Who knows what goes on in that head

Gets jealous and definitely glares if someone is trying to make moves even if you’re not together

Afterwards, he pouts and whines

"They're not even that great. I can do all that and more"

Does and promises to do stupid things to impress you, like if you need to move a table, he’ll definitely bust through the wall and say all cool like “I can get it by myself, don’t worry” only to strain his muscles 

Shows off his tattoos and if you want to get one as well will be so enthusiastic, you’ll get the best parlour in the city, the most thorough care afterwards provided by him of course

At times when he’s talking and you turn to look at him, his brain stops and there’s audible error noise coming behind those eyes

Sometimes he stutters when speaking to you, especially if trying to be smooth but he’s doing his best

Actually, he's the hottest when he's not trying

Like he's driving you back home, music on the low playing all sexy and he's like clicking his tongue while leaning back into the seat

And that does something to your brain, breaks through the wall and surmises a point that this dude is actually kind of hot

And he's taking special care of you

He then turns and chuckles taking in your wide eyes

"Do I have something on my face?" he asks. "Or have you begun liking me, ____________?"

You blush and look out the window

"It's nothing"

He doesn't push further but secretly hopes to high heaven you do

Has told about you indirectly to his mom by asking questions about how people like to be wooed

But then definitely has that shy smile when she teases him about it

© soraviii/soraviie 2022-2023

[valleyof-goldenlilies]

Se Zaldrīzoti' Prūmia Masterlist (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

“the gods have yet to make a man who lacks the patience for absolute power.” -the hand of the king, house of the dragon 1x01 

‘se zaldrīzoti' prūmia’ - the dragons’ heart

Daemon Targaryen’s Masterlist | HOTD Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Summary: The chronicles of Lady Y/N Tyrell’s life at court told in various stages, and of the lessons and pain she goes through due to her close bond with the members of the Targaryen dynasty. And at the center of the tale, is her intertwined fate with the Rogue Prince, Daemon Targaryen, and their progression from childhood enemies to become something more. 

Rating: 18+

Tags: EXTREME slow burn, childhood menaces to lovers, sexual tension, court politics, examination of societal roles in Westeros, Daemon being an asshole, reader and Daemon being dumbasses a lot of the time

lovely dividers credited to @firefly-graphics ! 

Act I: The Arrogance of Youth

Synopsis: Growing up in the Red Keep, Lady Y/N Tyrell has had the fortune of being well acquainted and loved by the members of the Targaryen royal family. All except for Prince Daemon Targaryen, who makes her blood boil furiously ever since they were children. However, a series of tragic events soon dispels the way of life as they know, and they must now find their footing in the game of thrones, or be resigned to being nothing but a puppet in their destiny. But be warned, the game of thrones is never easy to play. 

Cast of Characters

Chapter 1: A Platter of Grapes 

The Red Keep is graced by an old, familiar presence. 

Chapter 2: A Mere Lady 

Daemon has returned to King’s Landing. Yet it is not in his nature to sit idle. 

Chapter 3: When The Lance Fells The Falcon

The day of the Heir Tournament has finally arrived, and what is a joust without some bloodshed? 

Chapter 4: The Orange Lilies Bends Its Head In Grief

The time has come for mourning, old memories, and harsh truths. 

Chapter 5: The Withering of Hearts 

The Seven Kingdoms is plagued with a succession crisis, and drunken impulse never leads to a good end. 

Chapter 6: The Secrets of The Red Keep

In the Red Keep, it’s not just the rats that creep, but secrets too. And in the game of thrones, secrets kill as much as rats carrying plague do.

Chapter 7: Father and Daughter

A hunt, a reunion, and a conflict. A normal day in Westeros then. 

Chapter 8: The Woes of Womanhood

With the return of Prince Daemon, and Princess Rhaenyra, the Red Keep braces itself for the inevitable implosion of scandal once more. 

Chapter 9: The Ticking of Time

The primal urge to survive oft drives decisions made in haste.

Teaser

Chapter 10: coming soon!

Taglist: @drwho-ess @graniairish @urmomsgirlfriend1 @thelittleswanao3 @animelover18 @llovinjoonie @gracielikegrapes @salembridger @itszzmoon @kmmg98 @travelingmypassion @zae5 @norestfortheshelbywicked @soleilgrec @anehkael @midnightprincess18 @lilith--666 @saay-karani @dumbhxeredrose @syviiss @nyenye @ahristata​ @hiraethrhapsody @babypink224221 @mckenziewhite2005 @justrybca @omgsuperstarg

those who are bolded are those who couldn’t be tagged! let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist in the comments or through this form! if you wish to be removed or if i have accidentally tagged you in the wrong taglist, please let me know in the comments. thank you for your support 💗

[superkooku]

Dionysus' iceberg (part 2)

Here's part 1 :

Yes, I know, I took my time with this one 😅. But part 2 is finally here on Tumblr !

And, since there's a lot to say about Dionysus, I'll probably need to do a third one... yes he's that interesting.

In this part, I'll talk about Dionysus' connections to theater, nature and vegetation.

1. Theater 🎭

Despite Apollo being the god of the arts, theater is one of Dionysus' domains.

In fact, his theatre (in Athens) is considered the first in the world! Dionysus is like an entertainer, not only through parties, but also through a performance on the stage.

Okay, more seriously: one of his festivals, the Dionysia, even had five days dedicated to drama. In fact, theater plays are said to be set in competitions honoring Dionysus himself.

This festival in and of itself is quite complex, as it's divided in two categories (rural and city festivals) and has quite a history. So, I'd highly recommend reading more about it.

Even the idea of theater masks come from there ! They were parts of disguises actors (always men) wore to play the roles of women or gods.

I'm gonna stop a bit with the informations to talk about two interesting things :

It's actually really cool that the god of theater is a good actor.

I say that because he managed to fool Pentheus and a WHOLE pirate crew into thinking he's some inoffensive boy. And then, dramatic plot twist : he's not.

Another cool thing : he appeared both in a comedy and tragedy. Probably in other lost plays too. It's part of his duality, which I'll talk about more in part 3.

Anyways, ancient Greek theater, the ancestor of our modern plays, is very closely tied to Dionysus.

2. His link to satyrs

This bearded man is Silenus, son of Hermes and one of the satyrs. The baby he's holding is an infant Dionysus, who was forced to go in hiding because of Hera's wrath.

Edit : forgot to complete this part. So, Silenus is considered Dionysus' tutor, kinda like Chiron and Asclepius, but wilder.

Like Dionysus, he appears to be a funny drunkard, but in reality, he can be very wise too. Heck, he even has some prophecy powers when intoxicated. How cool is that ? I like this little duality.

He notably appears in Midas' myth. Silenus was found by peasants and given to the king. Since Midas took good care of him and showed a lot of hospitality, Dionysus decided to reward him. And we all know how the story goes at that point.

Another important satyr (in the Dionysiaca, for example) is Ampelos/Ampelus. He was a young satyr who could very well be Dionysus' first love. What's so interesting about him is that, after his death (R.I.P), Dionysus transformed him into the first grape vine 🍇 !

(this time, not a flower, unlike Hyacinthus and Crocus).

Yes, if you drink wine, you're technically drinking Ampelos' blood.

In general, the satyrs, along with the maenads, are Dionysus' companions. We all know what satyrs are, but it's not surprising to see two symbols of sexuality, drunkenness and wilderness so closely tied.

Also, coming back to theater, there was something called "satyr plays", a mix between tragedy and comedy that were played during the Dionysian festival.

3. A god of nature and vegetation

There are many other nature gods. They each show their connection to nature in their own unique way.

Of course, there's wine and grapes (and Ampelos), but also a lot more stuff.

Dionysus was said to live his youth on Mount Nysa, in the nature, among nymphs and other satyrs. So those ties would come from very early on in his life.

He's not only the god of grapes, but fruits and plant life in general. It's interesting to see the same domains shared by multiple gods (here with Demeter).

The multiple water and wind gods are another proof of that.

And yes, he can grow vines as much as he pleases, like when he punished the thyranean pirates.

4. A fertility god

Yeah, don't listen to LO, male fertility gods exist too 😂.

He's not even the only one, since there's Priapus as well. And he's often (not always) considered his son, with Aphrodite as the mother.

It's honestly not surprising to see a god of nature and fruits, but also one known for his orgies, being associated with fertility.

There aren't many myths about it, so I'll just include that one because it's interesting.

So...

I went through these informations pretty quickly, in order to keep this post at a normal length. I'd love to see you complete on these particular aspects.

In part 3, I'll talk about Dionysus' duality, but also his link to madness, mortals (like Semele and Ariadne), and other gods.

Part 3 will be the longest, since I'll include a lot more references (to myths like the war against India, the Bacchae and more infos about his cult and stories)

[msmorningstaarr]

Holy and Heathen - Chapter 11 (Moans and Lullabies)

Pairing: young!Oberyn MartellxF!Original Hightower Character

Word count: 5.7k

Chapter Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI

ao3 | masterlist

SUMMARY: Lady Melara Hightower is the youngest daughter of Lord Leyton Hightower and has a distinct, serious and pious personality. She is sent to serve the Faith as a Septa, but her destiny suddenly changes once she becomes betrothed to the heir of Dorne, Prince Oberyn Martell. She sees herself living in a land far from hers with distinct habits, dealing with many divergences and a husband far more wild than she could ever expect. Would she be capable of lighting the way of her mind and heart?

a/n: comments, likes and shares are always appreciated 🩵

(Except for Melara Hightower, all characters do not belong to me but to George RR Martin, author of the 'A Song of Ice and Fire' book series.)

Taglist: @princessanglophile @hiroikegawa @hiraethrhapsody @martellspear

Melara

It was a calm evening. Oberyn had decided to end his duties around the castle earlier to be taking care of Melara, who still had not overcome her sickness and tiresome. The Gods seemed to finally open Oberyn’s heart and since that day where they decided to put their differences aside to build a relationship, everything changed. When both discovered that the blonde princess was with child, a new spark was born in the eyes of her husband. The Father was just and listened to her prayers. Being with child at first was quite the distressful news, in all honesty. Melara could not fathom the feeling of yearning for something so much and still dread it to its core. There would be nights where her nightmares would haunt her sleep and she would dream of a bloodshed where the maesters would cut her in half to take the babe out of her, just like it was done to her mother. 

Lady Rhea told her the story of her birth when she was no older than seven years of age and her mind graphically imagined the bloody moment she was born. Guilty often dawned on her to think that her life was possible at the expense of another person. Was I worthy of it? She thought. 

The words of her stepmother tormented her mind and now, more than ever, the fear of being a disappointment grew stronger inside of her. Could she ever be a good mother to the child growing inside of her? Could she even survive the childbirth to be anything to this child? For a pregnancy in the mild stage, her bump was huge. Word spread throughout the castle that Melara could be expecting twins, given her current size and stage of expectation and the intrusive thoughts were dreading her again. That is when she felt close to faint when she was listening to Septa Lorna give her recommendations to maintain a good health besides her current state. 

Melara still felt bothered by the constant fuss over her, it was not something she was used to having in the Starry Sept and not even in Hightower, but after sharing many conversations with her husband, he convinced her to be more welcoming to this kind of treatment.

Oberyn smiled at her once he entered their quarters and found Lya, Megga, Lys and Melessa surrounding her. Lys fed Melara with grapes and Lya took water to her lips. Melessa and Megga massaged her feet while two other servants fanned the princess. Melara briefly stared at Lya and noticed a certain blush spreading across her cheeks and her eyes lowered quickly once Oberyn entered the room whilst Lya used her own hands to caress her also pregnant womb. 

The servants immediately bowed to the salty prince and waited for their commands. “You can leave us now.” He said, calmly. His gaze never left Melara’s. The prince and princess have not even noticed how quick to disappear the other ones were.

There was a time where any kind of eye contact would make her embarrassed, ashamed. None of this was real around her lord husband from now onwards. He had made a mother of her, once her wish was given by the Mother and her infinite kindness. Everything was different, Melara felt different. She felt comfortable around him. There was no fear or displeasure, only sympathy. “I came the second someone told me you were on the verge of fainting again.” He said, slowly approaching her.

Melara just pouted her lips and arched her eyebrows. “I was not, husband.”

“Many moons have been gone since the day I took you as my wife and I can count on my fingers how many times you have called me by my name. You must call me Oberyn, my fallen star.” He softly commanded, grabbing her feet to massage it. His hands were callused as it would always be, but Melara could feel the heat of his large hand spreading throughout her body and tingle her intimate parts. An unusual side effect of her pregnancy was the constant urges for bedding. 

Although Oberyn seemed more than satisfied to take her whenever the time was needed, Melara still felt shame for this, it felt so unladylike to take initiative in this matter. Melara had her cheeks rosy and her pout turned into a sly grin. “Very well, Oberyn,” Melara wrinkled her eyes in a silent giggle and her hands reached her swollen belly. “We are fine. There is no need for all of this.”

“You carry my heir, my silver star. I should take good care of you. I could not do this to the mother of Obara, but I did it to the mother of my littlest Nymeria.” Her body felt tense by the thought of his bastards. It was still a rather sensitive topic within their relationship, but Oberyn was straightforward and had no issue exposing the wounds of it before it would fester. Yet, Melara felt not even close to being fond of having his bastard daughters around. 

At times, Melara would feel repulsive for desiring the death of small children, however, that was the truth of her heart: could she hold any little power over it, Nymeria and Obara would be away from Sunspear or even Dorne, where their little shadows could never reflect behind her ever again. Her eyes lowered as her expression grew bitter and Oberyn seemed to notice, curling his lips before changing the subject.

“You are my princess, my silver princess,” He hummed and kissed her belly as he made his way over to her face and kissed her lips. “Must be treated as such.” 

Melara looked at Oberyn and her fingertips traced patterns as she silently shared a moment with him. His brown eyes had a strong effect on her, it was bewitching. Melara always had in her mind that Oberyn has a charming, enchanting and involving persona, even when she had no trace of true feelings for him. Now, when she could finally see the caring and loving Oberyn that Elia spoke so much that day when she departed from King’s Landing to Dorne, those feelings inflamed within her heart and her head lacked words to explain what she was feeling for him. Not even when she was training to be a Septa she felt so close to the Gods in the way she felt by just staying by the side of her husband.

“Sing for us, hu-… Oberyn.” She corrected herself after breaking the brief silence between them. The salty prince smirked and lowered a bit to kiss her bump slowly and gently.

“High in the halls of the kings who are gone, Jenny would dance with her ghosts…” Besides being a great politician and quite skilled at fighting and extraordinarily smart in the arts of alchemy and philosophy or history, Oberyn was also a great artist. His voice was smooth and powerful, capturing the sensibility of that song.

“… The ones she had lost and the ones she had found, and the ones who had loved her the most…” His hand caressed her belly gently and Melara would feel the strange feeling of her babe and their little legs kicking her belly from inside every time they would hear any sign of Oberyn’s presence.

“… The ones who'd been gone for so very long, she couldn't remember their names…” he kept singing, loud enough for them only to listen. Moons ago, Melara would never have the idea that her life would turn to this. Oberyn could be quite the difficult figure, but once he opened up his heart, things swiftly began to change within their relationship and even if the silver princess could not consider herself fully loving Oberyn, the sentiment of being cherished, appreciated and pampered felt good. No one has ever been this affectionate towards her, not even her lord father.

“… They spun her around on the damp old stones, spun away all her sorrow and pain…” The princeling stared at Melara and caressed her belly tenderly, his voice lowered calmly and his fingertips traced gentle patterns over the fabric of her dress, feeling the fussy babe inside of her kicking as a reaction to the presence of their father. 

“… And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave…” Oberyn kept singing and smiling to the reaction of their babe. Melara found an odd satisfaction and a certain pride in the sensation of what it means to create life. In the Sept, she learned everything regarding the seven-faced God and its virtues - the Mother, ever so caring and powerful, blessing the path of motherhood felt much more real to her. Right there and then, Melara could understand what it means to be the true embodiment of the Mother, once Oberyn knew exactly how to worship her. Which is odd, hence the fact that her lord husband is far from being a holy man, but quite the heathen in truth.

“… They danced through the day, and into the night through the snow that swept through the hall, from winter to summer then winter again…” As he sang, Oberyn began to roam his hands on her lower body and squeeze her rear, hips and thighs, all over the thick fabric of her dress. Melara felt her cheeks burn and flush, body increasing the heat as Oberyn furtively revealed the skin of her legs by lifting the skirt of her dress and showing the underpants she wore. Melara bit her lips to the ache in her entrance, anticipating and fully desiring Oberyn to take her right there.

“… 'Til the walls did crumble and fall …” The smug smile rose on his face to see the fluster on her face. His lips kissed her thighs over the fabric of her undergarments and Melara could not help but let out a small moan. After the beginning of her pregnancy, her skin would crowl and be extra sensitive at any slight touch on any part of her body. Right now, her intimacy was drooling and covered by her wetness caused by Oberyn. It was odd and a wave of shame still crossed her mind, however, it felt rather difficult resisting Oberyn, once he knew exactly how to take Melara to the edge and reach her peak.

“… And she never wanted to leave,” he sang, intercalating the music with soft kisses on her inner thighs. “never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave…”

“… High in the halls of the kings who are gone, Jenny would dance with her ghosts…” His hands squeezed her thighs and shuddered the thin hair on her legs as his smooth voice breathed against her legs. Slowly, his lips were getting closer and closer to her centre, raising the tension within her body.

“… The ones she had lost and the ones she had found…” And then, Oberyn deposited a soft kiss right there, causing Melara to squirm and arch her head back, involuntarily pulling his face closer to her privates.  

Oberyn smirked and was eager to take her hands from his curls. “Too eager, my fallen star,” he stopped singing and touching Melara for a while, making the silver princess whine before he would finish the song. “… And the ones…” 

Both of his hands levelled up to her waistband and started pulling off the underwear she was wearing, slowly revealing her bare lower body to him until there was nothing left to cover down on her body. “… Who had loved her the most.”

His eyes darkened to the sight of Melara almost exploding and shattering her body into pieces, just for him. “Please, husband…” Melara said, breaking the silence after the song ended. Oberyn smiled even more.

“Please what, my silver princess?” her husband asked. 

Her cheeks felt so close to catching fire, Melara had to gather her strength to reply to his question. “Touch me, please.” she muttered.

Oberyn gazed at her from downwards, mischievously grinning and biting his lips, with his smug attitude of always. “Touch where?” Melara could never say that word out loud and yet, here he was, pushing her to the edge to say it. Timidly, she tried to guide his hands towards her wet spot, however, the salty prince dismissed her attempt of silently guiding him. “Use your words, Melara.” 

“My… intimacy…” Melara replied in a whisper, hiding her face from Oberyn after saying the naughty words her husband required. He kept smirking at Melara and gently, he traced his index over her sensitive bundle of nerves, causing another squirm on her back.

“That is quite the unholy word for my little lady to be speaking,” he purrs, circling his fingers around her sweet spot and driving Melara to madness. “I am proud.” 

And then, Oberyn dived into her intimate part and his tongue worked intensely on her pleasure. Melara felt her heart beating fast and her mouth going dry, which is the opposite of the lower part of her body. The heat was high and her entrance still ached with anticipation for the moment she waited mostly: when he would be inside of her. His lips were soft and suckled her button, focusing on it. Melara had her legs shaking excessively and her thoughts were everywhere. It was such a conflicting sensation to enjoy something she grew up hearing that it was wrong and unladylike. Yet, it could be the most sinful feeling to be quite sure she reached Seven Heavens everytime Oberyn licked, suckled and touched her intimacy with so much passion and hunger.

Her hips involuntarily moved towards his head, pressing his lips against her core and her head fell back, crying out and in readiness to release. Oberyn went forward with his head when Melara bounced her pelvis against him, his hands squeezed her hips and the bright princess bit her lips, trying to muffle her moans. Melara grabbed his hair when a desperate whimper left her lips and her body began to tremble, announcing her undeniable climax. Melara pressed her hand over her chest, trying to recover from the whirlwind of sensations Oberyn just provoked on her, trying to readjust her heart beating. Still, the dornish prince felt restless and eagerly went straight to her lips, kissing her with more hunger this time.

“Gods, if I knew earlier you would be this beautiful when you are with child, I’d have built another Great Sept just for worshipping the Mother and bless us with an army of our children.” He said between the kisses. She could feel the salty taste of her wetness mixing with both salivas and her cheeks kept flushing, but her body yearning for more. “Maybe I shall do this, my dear wife.” He continued and took a flush on her cheeks, which she fastly covered with her callused hands.

With not much time to lose, Oberyn released his hard member and positioned on her entrance. Melara tried to look away, but her husband grabbed her chin and locked their gazes together. “Keep looking at me, silver princess.” he softly commanded and so she obeyed, biting her lower lip as Oberyn made his way inside of her slowly. Melara could not help but scream alongside her salty husband, who grunted to the sensation of entering her warm walls. Her insides were filled up with him and his thrusts were strong and steady, but slow. Oberyn grunted and his greedy hands squeezed both sides of her hips, yet, he was ever so careful to his wife in order to not hurt her or the babe.

He held her hips to control her body and his pace, but Melara wanted more. She could feel her inner parts clenching around Oberyn and gently, he got his face closer to hers as he kept pushing himself inside of her and kissed her forehead. Melara locked Oberyn by involving her legs around his waist and digging her nails into his olive skin, opening space on her neck so he could kiss there, and so he did. He suckled and nibbled her neck, passing his hands from her hips to her hair, holding the silvery gold cascade in a strong grip. “More, please.” she muttered and Oberyn felt as if someone lit wildfire inside of him, taking up his speed and thrusting within Melara faster.

The young woman was lost in a daze, the world around her faded and all there was was her and Oberyn. Her nails gripped into his skin, her legs gripped him tighter. She let out a moan as her eyes fluttered and rolled upwards inside her skull. The princess shivered, inclining her head to kiss his shoulder as his hands took her waist, her legs wrapping around him in a desperate embrace of her lover’s body as he made her his own. Melara’s lips were parted as Oberyn kissed her neck, her arms holding him by his shoulders as he increased his pace, each thrust taking the princess to new heights of pleasure and very soon, another peak was being close to reach. 

“My silver princess takes me so well…” He said amongst grunts and moans, Melara coyly smiled, intertwining with soft whines and wiping the traces of sweat from her face.

“Oberyn…” her words were a gasp, soft and breathy, filled with the sweetness that she rarely felt. Each word had a soft purr to it, each breath an inhale as the Prince took her, each moment a sigh as the two enjoyed each other's bodies. The two kissed. Melara could feel the warmth of her skin growing hotter, her breath growing shorter. She could feel her prince throb inside of her and his breathing getting heavier as his own climax seemed also close, her back arching slightly as she moaned softly, her heart beating faster. The young lady’s breath was coming in soft gasps between kisses, her words filled with a soft, quiet purr.

“Yes, my little lady…” He replied, pounding her aching core. Her lips were parted as she leaned her head back, breathing slightly harder as she sighed and her heart beat more quickly. Her thighs were tightening around the Prince's body, her body responding to his touch in a way she never could as her body began to quiver. 

"Oh-" she sighed before exhaling a loud, breathy moan and Oberyn smiled, presuming what was happening to his lady wife.

“Use your words, Melara.” He coos reminding her, giving hints that his own climax was building inside of him as well.

"I am..." she whispered, trying to catch her breath as her body began to shake. The lady was nearing her peak, her face flushed as she pushed her body into Oberyn's, her hands squeezing his hands tighter as she grew closer and closer to her release.

“You are what, Lady Melara?” He provoked her, thrusting slightly harder.

"I'm close..." she breathed, squeezing the Prince's neck. Her breathing grew faster and faster as she began to writhe below him, her back arching slightly as her muscles began to shake, her face flushed as her body reached its pinnacle. Oberyn, on the other hand, gave his final grunt once she finally released her pleasure, he could not hold himself and found his own climax, coming inside of her in full strength and lust.

“Oberyn…” she repeated again, this time more breathless than before, taking a moment to pause and catch her breath, her teeth slightly bared with each moan. “Oh Gods.” she muttered, her voice quivering ever so slightly as she felt her body grow tighter. “Oh.” Oberyn fell beside her, laughing and biting his lip with a satisfied and relaxed expression. He immediately held Melara, who even overwhelmed by physical touching learned to enjoy how much Oberyn liked to be affectionate with touching, embracing and caressing. The dornish prince kissed her temples, caressed her belly and wiped her carefully with a washcloth before going back to lay close to her.

“My fallen star is growing more and more keen on the sexual arts.” He whispered in her ear as he placed beside Melara, who had her cheeks burning even more red with his comment, still recovering from the aftershocks of their momentum. “Yet, you are as shy as ever.”

It was true, although having intercourse had become something more interesting for her and the company of Oberyn had turned to be congenial afterwards, years of a strict conduct still endured on her mind, always taunting the moments after the pleasure experienced. Oberyn leaned his index finger on her chin and lightly squeezed it, with a tender smile and Melara felt her heart burning by looking at him and their bodies facing each other in that bed. Half of her heart burned affection and the other half burned in shame. Her mind still had not detached from the idea she was no longer a Septa, even being in Dorne for what felt like ages and married, with a child on the way. 

Oh, Mother above, with your comforting gaze,

Lead me back to the path of your righteous ways.

Forgive my transgressions, and grant me your peace,

In your endless love, may my soul find release… her mind repeated the prayer again and again.

”This is a subject I am still working on, hus-… Oberyn.” He smirked at her and kissed her temples once more, bringing her closer to his body. She laid her head and both stood there for some brief moment, enjoying each other’s company. 

The salty prince looked at Melara again and smiled at her, faintly. Then, Melara watched her husband fetch water and wine. Wine for him, water for her. He gave her a glass and raised his cup to cheer silently before starting his drinking. “I wish I was allowed to take you to the place where I keep my poisons.”

Melara raised her eyebrows calmly and looked at her window, always caressing her belly. “Am I not allowed to visit it in such conditions?”

“The maesters avidly recommended not to. Won’t risk endangering the mother of one of my children.” It was a hardship not to feel a pang of jealousy everytime she would remember Oberyn already had two children and none of them belonged to her.

“Then you will only take me once I deliver the baby.”

“Or babes.”

Melara sighed heavily once she heard her husband correct the sentence from singular to plural. This prospect had no chance of being seen in a positive light at all for her. “Do you think I might be carrying twins too?” She asked, apprehensive. 

Oberyn nodded and kneeled by her side, kissing her belly. His widow’s peek stared at her ever so solemnly and his warm, callused hands touched her waist with care. “I indeed think you carry more than one babe in your belly.”

Melara felt numb. Her heart beat faster in angst and suddenly tears scrolled down her face, nervously as she tried to wipe them quickly. Melara kept her thoughts mostly to herself all this time from everyone but right then, it was hard to hide her fear over her childbirth. Being vulnerable to someone human and not the Gods was proving to be quite the humbling experience, for the thought of letting Oberyn see her fears reminded of a time where no secrets were maintained amongst sisters and shame would hover her body every time Lady Rhea would betray her trust, for a small confession her step mother would turn to a great judgement of her character and belittle her feelings. However, now it was different. Oberyn was patient with her and let her be vulnerable in her own time and although a rough young man, he was proving to be loving as Elia promised her. “What is happening?” Oberyn asked, concernedly trying to wipe her tears. Melara nested her body on his, seeking comfort. “Tell me, fallen star.”

Melara lowered her head and tried to speak, feeling her mouth going dry and her heart exploding within her. No words would leave her mouth, a small part of her head still felt scared to tell him her true feelings over that possibility. “Melara…”

“I am scared of childbirth.” She spilled the words in a mutter in low sobs. Oberyn furrowed his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes, taking her hand gently.

“You are scared of giving birth?” He asked, sternly. Suddenly, Melara was a child again, being in front of her older sisters and step mother saying some random feeling roaming her mind, to be mocked by them or reprimanded immediately. Anxiety consumed her mind and her hands trembled, tears went down faster and the princess shrunk her body, which turned Oberyn to extreme worry with Melara. “Listen to me,” he spoke to her, cupping her face with his hands and forcing Melara to look at him. “I will not allow anyone to murder you in childbirth. I promise to be by your side, protecting you.”

Oberyn cupped her face and his eyes turned tender whilst facing her. His fingertips traced her lips gently but no arousal rose on his face, only something Melara could not categorically name that moment. It was magical the manner that man could be fiercely dangerous and so unwaveringly charming and loving. Her heart burned again, but in that strange feeling her heart insisted to feel whenever she was around him after that eventful day when she allowed him to get into her intimacy. Melara also felt calmer, her tears had dried for a while, her eyes sparkled looking at Oberyn. “My handmaidens will help me too.” She completed, calmly. Oberyn lowered his eyes and Melara noticed the change of expression. It went from bubbly to numb, instantly. A certain dissatisfaction rose and he moved his lips uncomfortably and he fixed his posture on the mattress.

“There is a matter I have been wanting to talk to you about, in fact.” The olive skinned prince broke the silence, brushing her hair with his fingers.

”Speak.” She replied.

”Your new handmaiden…”

“What about Lya?” Melara asked, confused. Oberyn had never paid attention to any of her personal servants at point of talking about them, but due to her latest condition, Melara found it could be anything related to her imminent pregnancy and current work serving as her handmaiden. Although Melara never thought of Oberyn as a judgemental man, she wondered if her state could bother him at any instance.

“Do you believe she is suited enough to be your handmaiden? I don’t think of her as an appropriate company for you.”

Melara furrowed her eyebrows. “Said the man who walks amongst the smallfolk and goes on to have two bastard children? Is it because she is carrying a bastard of her own?” 

“I could not care less if she is carrying a bastard or the next King of the Seven Kingdoms,” He said, serving himself a glass of wine and pouring water to her. “She is none of our trust.”

She drank a bit of her water after sitting down on their mattress. Of course, Melara did not approve at all once she received the news of the upcoming of her handmaiden and thought of sending her away, as a manner of not raising a bad influence over her other servants, however, she felt as the one to blame of Lya’s destiny once the girl dropped the Sept on a promise to be held safe in her new castle before her departing from Oldtown. Melara held a sense of responsibility for her future once her mind rumined about what Lya had to endure to survive outside the castle and on her travels from the Reach to Dorne. Besides her pious reasons, part of embracing Dorne as her home was to understand that her unmarried pregnancy was no reason for judgement to the dornish.

“Why would she not be of trust?” Melara asked and Oberyn pouted his lips and sighed, his black viper eyes seemed slightly lost, contemplative for a moment before replying to Melara.

“Your handmaidens carry your secrets, your most intimate situations, they are with you from the moment you wake up, and for a moment even guard your sleep. This girl… she came from nowhere and now she is here, carrying a great deal of honour.”

Lya was trustable, she wanted to believe it. Oberyn indeed carried a point but Lya was one of the nicest people she ever had in her life and she could not fathom sending a person like her away, even with her eccentric personality and sharp tongue. “When I was in the Sept,” Melara started, holding her belly and turning her gaze at her husband. “There was one day right in the beginning of my journey where I had to clean one of the worship rooms and scrape the rest of melted candles in the altar, to right after sweep the dust in the room. I had no idea of how to hold a broom and a shovel, the elder Septas joined to make me the object of their mockery over the fact I could not even do such a simple task as cleaning one room. Lya joined me and taught me how to use those items. Lya defended me when I needed her the most. Nothing she would gain but my silent company and stern behaviour, yet, she chose to be my defender and friend. I could not do such a thing as leaving her behind because you find her not worthy of my trust and company.”

Oberyn, as always, looked defeated after her brief, yet incisive words. Melara noticed the taciturn moment between them and how awkwardly dissatisfied Oberyn turned out to be. “Does it bother you?”

”Yes. I do not trust her and neither should you.” He responded, joining his hands while making his body comfortable on a chair. Melara was instantly annoyed by his words and scoffed, rolling her eyes in discontent. Oberyn raised his eyebrows, seemingly surprised by Melara and her attitude.

Melara's frustration simmered beneath the surface as she listened to Oberyn's concerns about Lya, her trusted handmaiden. The notion that Oberyn doubted Lya's loyalty and suitability irked her, especially given the personal bond she had formed with the young woman.

"Oberyn," Melara began, her tone measured but firm. "Lya has been nothing but loyal and supportive to me since she arrived. She stood by me when others mocked and belittled me in the Sept. Her loyalty isn't something I take lightly."

Oberyn's expression remained stoic, but Melara could sense his underlying apprehension. The bright princess understood his need to protect their household and maintain trust among their staff, but she couldn't bring herself to dismiss Lya based solely on suspicions.

"She has earned my trust," Melara continued, her gaze unwavering. "I appreciate your concern, but I believe in giving people a chance to prove themselves. Lya has proven herself to me time and again."

Oberyn sighed, his features softening slightly as he regarded his wife. "Melara, I only want what's best for you and our household. I would not forgive myself if I allowed anyone to harm you, dear wife."

Melara nodded, acknowledging his concerns but remaining resolute in her decision. "I understand, Oberyn. But I ask that you trust my judgement in this matter. Lya has been a friend when I needed one most."

The prince studied her for a moment, his gaze lingering with a mixture of frustration and affection. Eventually, he relented, knowing that Melara was steadfast in her convictions. Still, an evident distress was formed in Oberyn's eyes. Melara would question herself what harm could Lya ever do to deserve such mistreatment and suspiciousness from her husband.

"Very well," Oberyn conceded, a hint of resignation in his voice. “She is allowed to stay, my silver princess. You are entitled to choose your companions and I apologise for my words. But if there are any concerns or issues, promise me you'll come to me."

“No need for apologies, husband.”

Melara nodded, relieved that he had acquiesced. He was proud, but Melara appreciated how Oberyn accepted to compromise for her, even when he was not very fond of her. With that, a semblance of peace settled between them, though Melara knew that tensions could flare again if Lya's presence continued to be a point of contention. For now, she would stand by her decision and uphold her trust in Lya, hoping that Oberyn would eventually see the value in the bond she shared with her handmaiden. Yet, a sense of confusion rested in her mind, wandering the reasons behind such an open campaign against a simple handmaiden of hers. Melara reassured herself, Lya is of my trust, she is my friend constantly in her head with an intonation close to her matutine prayers. She was sure the Gods had blessed her with a true companion through her marital journey. Her olive prince put his glass aside and embraced his wife from behind and pulled the little princess to bed. Melara entangled her fingers on his, sighing briefly to the warmth of his lips throughout her neck tenderly. 

“Let us rest now, princess.”

“Let us rest then, prince.” With this, Melara closed her eyes and leaned her head on his chest to finally fall asleep.

[two-white-butterflies]

exotic flower | r. targaryen

Description: Rhaenyra treats you to a picnic by the garden, ultimately causing you to fall for her deeply. Rhaenyra falls in love with her step-sister. Warning: General Audiences

Rhaenyra doesn't understand why your lips tasted like strawberries. It's abnormal - but it's all she ever thinks about. Ever since that little fiasco in her father's holiday house - she hasn't stopped thinking about you - about wanting those strawberry lips on hers.

She couldn't deny the uncanny resemblance between you and your mother. Maybe that's part of the appeal.

Your brown hair seemed to curl and fall perfectly in place - and your eyes reminded her of her homeland.

"Earth to Rhaenyra," you waved your hand in front of her. Smiling as she was brought back to reality. She was staring at your lips - licking her own with hidden intention. "What?" she snapped, reaching to pluck a piece of the grave from the vine. "You haven't said anything since we got here - now I'm kinda sure that my mom forced you to spend time with me." you huffed, while crossing your arms.

There was an age-gap between you - seeing that she was closer to your mother's age than yours. But that never hindered your friendship. She was mature - but childish at times. There was a certain petulance in her mouth that reminded you of a toddler.

"Caught up with work, that's all." she replies, taking a bite of the grape - allowing the juice to flow down her mouth. "Me too - apparently interns are lapdogs now." you sigh, laying on the grass.

It was summer - and the sun was shining on her face beautifully. Rhaenyra had a unique feature - her eyes that looked like Elizabeth Taylor. She was luring you in - and keeping you locked.

"It'll be worth it after you've climbed the steps of corporate greed." she smiled, looking down on you. She couldn't see anything but your face - the crowds were fading in the background. Why was she falling for a girl? A girl straight out of college. Shouldn't you be calling her aunt? or sister?

"No one gets rich from working 9 to 5." you mumble.

"It's a good thing that your job is 8 to 4." she teased - opening the basket and reaching for something inside. "I had a lot of time on my hands today," she explained and you began to sit properly - anticipating what gift she brought.

Rhaenyra was a typical millennial - she had the latest apple gadgets, a nice town-house and a feisty shitzu named Syrax. She had financial freedom and enough money to give lavish gifts without second thought. Rhaenyra is someone you wanted to be when you grow up.

"Red velvet - your favorite, right?" she inquired - you reply with a nod. "Thank you - you didn't have to do that." you smile, and she offers you a slice. It looked amazing - the dough was perfectly baked and the icing looked appetizing enough to plaster in front of a bakery.

"I owe you, I'm sorry about what I did back in our Holiday House." she apologized, not wanting to give off 'creepy' vibes. Yes, she lusted after you in a crazy way but she'd never act on those feelings. It was weird and you were in different stages of your life.

"Rhae, it's fine - I thought I made it clear that I liked it too." you flirt, using the fork to take a bite of the cake.

"L-liked it too?" she stuttered - taken off guard by the certainty in your tone. "Yeah. I like you."

taglist: @evattude @sl-ut @froglovers-stuff @tired-ninfa @ethereallocs

[ramblebramblefun]

"I'll surpass All Might and become the richest hero ever!"

That's what Bakugou Katsuki says, in a world where he grows up alongside one Midoriya Izuku.

In a world entirely devoid of a certain green-haired 'damn nerd', Bakugou Katsuki did not need to say such things out loud.

Everybody already fucking knew it.

Bakugou Katsuki is, was, and always will be number one, top of the charts in any arena he cares to enter, and the stage that he desires to dominate is the same as it ever was and will be, whether or not there’s anyone for him to call Deku.

Bakugou Katsuki goes to the vaunted UA academy, and leaves everyone who meets him there choking on his dust.

Yeah, maybe Freezerburn and a couple of others gave him a run for his money for a minute, but Katsuki has never been anything but a hard worker. Practice, practice, practice turns natural talent into a fortress of steel that no one can crack.

Katsuki will just blast you off the balustrades.

He goes to UA, and he graduates, and he enters the fray that is the hero billboard rankings with a bang he’s pretty sure the whole world heard.

All Might has the good sense to retire before Ground Zero can knock him down, but Endeavour? Katsuki blasts that piece of shit to smithereens.

Not literally. That would be bad PR. The press team gets on his case enough as it is.

Speaking honestly, as Katsuki does, there were probably a few more other heroes in between 'graduation' and 'top of the charts', but Katsuki hadn't bothered to remember any of those extras' names. No fucking point.

The rest of his graduation class had come surging up behind him, after all. Katsuki has only ever associated with the best. Hawks whomst? Gang Orca? Best Jeanist?

Well. Maybe Katsuki did know that last one. Internships had been embarrassing, but, in hindsight, he had, perhaps, learned something there.

Anyway.

Bakugou Katsuki becomes the fucking best, the way everyone always knew he would be. Undisputed number one, that's him. Top of the heap in every way.

The praise comes thick and fast, for every little thing, the way it always has ever since his quirk came in, but it's nothing he hasn't heard since long before conquering All Might's fucking mountain of a molehill and frankly, he's kinda sick of hearing it.

Blah blah blah, Ground Zero is an amazing insert-here, saved twenty people today, same as he did yesterday, and the day before that, yadda yadda we can't wait to see where the youngest number one hero goes from here-

He stops watching the news.

He stops watching the news, and so he's the last to know when a building collapses on top of fucking Uravity.

…

He hates being last. That's all. That's why he doesn't attend the funeral, that's why he-

...

Ururaka Ochako had been a worthwhile opponent in their high school spars. Her thirst for the top had been as great as Katsuki's, and it was a thrill to compete against her.

She'd just opened her own agency. Broke the top ten. Come within spitting distance of-

...

He'd been looking forward to having competition. That's all.

...

Uravity is not the first person from their high school class to die. That would be the four-eyed hypocrite who got himself murdered in first year.

Uravity is not the last to die, either. Next up is Tailman, sniped by some bitch they never catch. There's nothing for Katsuki to blast.

Then Red Riot gets gassed, Grape-face gets squashed flat, and Chargebolt doesn't die, but he does fry himself so badly that he'll never live independently again.

Didn't even win the fight, that moron-

It's like a fucking conspiracy against Katsuki’s graduating class specifically. Like a whole lot of someones had some kind of grudge, because... What? They were too successful? They'd blasted the older pros out of the water, but that was no reason to-

Tsukiyomi's Trigger bust goes wrong next. They send Ground Zero in the morning after, in case Dark Shadow is still active after one hell of an overdose. The twerps had shot the shadow hero chock-full of it in their escape, and, well.

They didn’t escape.

…

Dark Shadow wasn't there, by the way. She was Tokoyami Fumikage's quirk, and Tokoyami Fumikage was dead.

Katsuki doesn't go to his funeral, either.

[mariacallous]

If you want to understand how China abuses its power on the world stage, consider the lobsters. After the Australian prime minister called in April 2020 for an international investigation into the origins of the COVID-19 pandemic, the Chinese ambassador to Australia, Chen Jingye, ominously hinted at the economic backlash. “Maybe the ordinary [Chinese] people will say, ‘Why should we drink Australian wine? Eat Australian beef?’” he told the Australian Financial Review. It and other outraged statements from the Chinese government had all the subtlety of a mafia capo wandering into the neighborhood deli and saying, “Nice little business you got here—shame if anything happened to it.”

In the weeks and months that followed, China instituted onerous import inspections on Australian rock lobsters and instituted new bans on timber and barley shipments from Australia. Given that in 2018 and 2019, China had accounted for about 94 percent of the Australian rock lobster market, the new trade restrictions were clearly meant to devastate the country’s lobster industry.

China also invoked punishing tariffs on Australian wine—tariffs that in some cases reached 212 percent—and exports stopped almost overnight. One winemaker, Jaressa Estates in the South Australian wine growing region of McLaren Vale, had been selling about 7 million bottles a year to China, some 96 percent of its total business, and saw that number drop to zero. “The country’s biggest overseas market vanished almost immediately. Sales to China plummeted 97 percent that first year. Storage tanks overflowed with unsold vintages of shiraz and cabernet sauvignon, pressuring red grape prices,” the New York Times reported. “Now that its economy is entrenched as the world’s second largest, the threat of losing access to China’s 1.4 billion consumers is a stick that few countries or industries can afford to provoke.”

It was a brutal lesson for Australia. As one winemaker told CNN, perhaps Australia shouldn’t be so quick to cross China in the future—and it should have approached questions about COVID-19’s origins with more delicacy. “Australia’s only a little nation. We should have absolutely supported it, but we didn’t need to lead the charge,” the vintner said. All told, Australia saw some $13 billion worth of exports targeted.

Outside the egregious Australian case, China has begun to wield the economic stick more regularly. For example, it halted salmon imports from Norway after the Nobel Peace Prize went to Chinese dissident Lio Xiaobo, punished Taiwan in 2022 with new restrictions on exporting pineapples, apples, and fish, and went after Lithuania when the Baltic country tried to strengthen ties with Taiwan. The wide-ranging Chinese move against Lithuania was unprecedented—extending not to just to obvious products like milk or peat but also against products manufactured with semiconductor chips made in Lithuania. As the New York Times wrote at the time, “China’s drive to punish Lithuania is a new level of vindictiveness.” The consequences for Lithuania were so dire that the German-Baltic Chamber of Commerce reported that the country’s high-tech industry faced an “existential” threat.

The most powerful voices in the global trade discussion largely stayed silent during these attacks. The European Union filed a perfunctory World Trade Organization complaint on Lithuania’s behalf but, as the New York Times reported, “otherwise largely left one of its smallest and weakest members to fend for itself,” and behind the scenes its officials urged Vilnius officials to appease China. “To use a Chinese phrase, they are killing the chicken to scare the monkey, particularly the big German monkey,” one European think tank leader said publicly. “Many European leaders look at Lithuania and say, ‘My God, we are not going to do anything to upset China.’”

And while some U.S. officials held performative tastings of Australian wine, the United States failed to step in to stabilize or support Australia, Norway, Taiwan, or Lithuania. There were no high-profile “Berlin Airlifts” of pineapples to U.S. grocery stores, tanker convoys of Australian Shiraz rolling up the Capital Beltway, or “Buy Baltic” public service announcements to encourage consumers and corporate leaders to look to Lithuanian suppliers. There was no coordinated effort to build a coalition to implement an emergency adjustment of tariffs on Australian wine or lobster, let alone to help the affected industries find new commercial buyers.

Perhaps it’s easy to write off such American reluctance as our own strain of protectionism—maybe the government didn’t want to be accused of undercutting Hawaiian pineapples or promoting foreign competitors to California Zinfadels—but the truth is that even at home the United States has failed to stand up for our industries when China targeted them. We didn’t support American airlines and hospitality companies when China pressured them to remove Taiwan’s name from their maps; nor did the United States government stand up meaningfully for the free speech of NBA players who criticized China.

China is learning, again and again, that bullying works, mastering the 21st-century toolkit of economic statecraft and warfare. As Bethany Allen, a journalist who has covered China for a decade, writes in her book, Beijing Rules: How China Weaponized Its Economy to Confront the World, “If we speak the language of markets … then China hasn’t just learned that language. It has learned to speak it louder than anyone else.” The Chinese Communist Party’s “authoritarian style of state capitalism,” Allen argues, means it “is willing to draw on its full arsenal of leverage, influence, charm, deception, and coercion.” And China has begun to deploy those tools all too frequently—leading to very real questions about whether anyone, companies or nation-states, can afford to be economically reliant on China.

The United States needs to do better—for ourselves and our allies. Strong allies are not going to help only out of self-interest, they’re going to do it because they want to follow their values and principles—and we have to make it easier for countries who want to help us counter China. We need to create an umbrella that shields countries, companies, and individuals when they take on China’s attempts at hegemonic thought and action.

Critical to any global strategy to counter China is building and securing the series of bilateral relationships and multilateral institutions and alliances that helped the West win Cold War I. We have to make it easy for our allies—and desired potential allies—to say yes to such alliances. China is surrounded by many relatively small and weak countries that need real reassurances, both security and economic, that if they side with the United States in a regional coalition they won’t be out in the cold.

Even countries like South Korea, Japan, and Australia that are G-20 countries with advanced economies and trillion-dollar-plus GDPs are small compared to the behemoths like China and the United States, especially if they’re left geopolitically isolated.

Beyond ad hoc responses to pressure on our friends when they stand up to China—especially but not only when they’re acting at our request—the United States needs to figure out a new alliance framework to deter such actions from China in the future. China needs to know that bullying won’t work.

On the security front, there’s little value in the Indo-Pacific in a replacement for SEATO, the 20-year attempt to build a Southeast Asia alliance like NATO that ended in 1977 after never achieving a working military structure. (One British diplomat called the alliance a “zoo of paper tigers.”) Today, too many of the countries across the Indo-Pacific are already protected by bilateral security pacts with the United States to bother joining a larger formal security alliance. For example, given that both Japan and the Philippines have their own security pacts with the United States, it’s not entirely clear what domestic political appetite there would be for, say, the Philippines to be treaty-bound to defend Japan if it’s attacked.

Instead of a military security alliance in the Indo-Pacific, we should be looking to build a new—and global—economic security alliance. America should lead the way in creating a new organization—call it something like the Treaty of Allied Market Economies (TAME), an “economic NATO” alliance of European and Indo-Pacific nations with open-market economies. Together, the partners in this alliance would respond as a unified block to political and economic pressure from China—or any other economic aggressor, for that matter—through a combination of trade barriers, sanctions, and export controls.

In some ways, this alliance would look similar to the coordinated but independent action that the West took in levying unprecedented sanctions against Russia after its Ukraine invasion. As an additional carrot to joining such an alliance, like-minded members could all share increased trade benefits in the form of tariff cuts, regulatory cooperation, and enhanced investment terms.

Beyond formal joint economic punishment of an aggressor, such an alliance could also plan for and commit to repairing and replacing real economic harms that member countries face when hit with retaliatory tariffs or trade wars. Such “trade diversion” often occurs in the market anyway. As one market closes, another opens—and we know that, in part, because of China’s actions against Australia. Markets are adaptable and most goods can flow elsewhere, especially if protectionist tariffs don’t stand in the way. It’s why Australia, for instance, weathered some of China’s aggressive moves better than anticipated. In particular, the Australian coal industry—which was also hit with punishing bans—turned out just fine because coal is such a fungible and high-demand product. “Once China banned imports of Australian coal in mid-2020, Chinese utilities had to turn to Russian and Indonesian suppliers instead. This, in turn, took Russian and Indonesian coal off the market, creating demand gaps in India, Japan, and South Korea—which Australia’s stranded coal was able to fill,” Foreign Policy noted. “The result of decoupling for one of Australia’s core industries was therefore just a game of musical chairs—a rearrangement of who traded with whom, not a material injury.”

One of the reasons that NATO has never had to invoke Article 5 against another nation-state attack—the only time it’s ever been used was after Sept. 11 against al Qaeda—is precisely because of how strong all other countries know the response from the combined NATO force would be.

The same should be true on the economic front. As Daleep Singh, a National Security Council official who helped coordinate the U.S. response to Ukraine, said, “The best sanctions are the ones that never have to get used.” China might very well think twice before weaponizing its trading strength if it understood the combined—and severe—penalties it might face in taking such action and that even if it did launch a trade war, it wouldn’t necessarily inflict much economic harm to begin with.

There’s enough evidence of China’s willingness to inflict economic pain for political gain across Asia and Europe that a well-crafted TAME organization would likely attract a long line of participants—many countries across the globe are becoming increasingly concerned about Chinese belligerent behavior, and there is safety in numbers. While it is unlikely that some large countries with significant economic dependence on China, such as France and Germany, would rush to join this new alliance, states that have already found themselves on the receiving end of Chinese coercion in the past—such as Australia, Norway, Sweden, Japan, the Czech Republic, Lithuania, the Philippines, and Taiwan itself, among others—are prime candidates for initial membership. Over time, as TAME membership grows in numbers, combined economic power, and market size, it will become a magnet too attractive for other market economies to avoid, especially if China continues to engage in brutish bullying tactics around the world.

[frostybearpaws]

Vicilite Life Cycle

Reproduction

There are two main ways for a vicilite to reproduce. Asexually, in which the egg sacks grow from Vicelium and develope for three weeks before breaking off to the main growth. Or sexually there gametes meet. The origin for each Vicilite may be different, however the process after being detached from either the vicelium or dam is the same.

Egg Sack

An impregnated Vicilite can gestate up to ten egg sacks at a time, however this number varies gestation period to gestation period. The egg sacks take about three weeks to develop upon which point they will be expelled from the mother’s body and placed in various nesting sights. Vicilites start their lives sharing an amniotic sack with up to twenty other siblings, however by the end of this six month development period only two or three will emerge as the others cannibalize each other once the initial yolk runs out.

Larvae

Adults have a designated room where they store the eggs that are to hatch. Within this room scrap metal and organic material such as plant matter and carcasses are placed around this area. After the larva emerge firm their egg sacks they begin to consume what is around them under the watchful eyes of the guardians (individuals with the role of watching over the nest sights and protecting them from intruders). For almost three months the larva will eat what is available around them and grow from the size of a grape to over two feet long. When they are sufficiently fattened up, they begin to pupate.

Pupa

Vicilites remain in their pupa stage for six months metamorphosizing into a vicilite nymph. During this time they are moved from the nest and placed into a hatchery. This is to prevent any new larva from consuming their brethren. Pupa all begin white but gradually begin to show the colors they will become later in life as the day for them to emerge approaches.

The Tumultuous Path to Adulthood

The entire process from hatchling to adult takes about twenty years to complete itself. It may seem like a long time, but in the grand scheme of a vicilite life span 20 years is an insignificant number.

Emergence

The act of breaking out of their cocoon is a very violent, tiring, and stressful process. The vicilite first begins to thrash and kick, using as much strength it can muster to break the confines of the cocoon. When there is a sufficient opening the hatchling must work its way out of the tight fit. This is a dangerous chapter in the vicilites life as failure to emerge from their pupa can lead to them drowning in the remaining fluids. Once emerged the hatching lays on the ground to rest and it collected by caretakers.

Infant/Hatchling (emergence — 1 year)

The first year of the emerged vicilite’s life is spend being cared for by parents and members of the colony. Infants are about the same size as adults however they are not covered in protective armor instead the soft layer of skin is all they have against the elements. For this reason infants are more susceptible to temperature changes and physical attacks. Infants are also weaker than adults needing to build up muscle mass as the grow. In these first few months of the infants life they are carried by parents and brought food that has been gathered.

Fry (1 — 4)

By this point on the vicilite’s life they have started to develop the first layers of armor. This does keep them more protected than when the were infants, the armor is still soft leaving the fry open to attacks. However the presence of this armor does allow for better temperature regulation. At this point in the vicilite’s life cycle they are starting to explore their surroundings and gain better muscle control. Later in fryhood they begin to learn how to speak.

Celiette (5 — 9)

The physical differences between fry and celiette are minimal however the developmental characteristics are vast. Celiettes have better muscle control and have gained the ability to form sentences. At this point the vicilite is beginning to learn social cues and is starting to develop friendships with others their age.

Wireling (9 — 13)

Wirelings are beginning to learn how to contribute to the group learning roles they can play to keep the colony functioning. By this point the vicilite has entered the second stage of armor and are covered in a harder casing however there is still a final stage that must be complete. At this point there are still gaps that need to fuse together or grow in which has not occurred yet. At this point the wirelings are learning how to hunt and identify edible plants. This is also the time reproductive systems begin to activate and the youths begin to explore sexuality.

Nymph (13 — 18)

The nymph has begun to transition into the third and final stage of armor development. Once they reach 16 or 17 the armor will be difficult to damage due. However there are still parts that need fusing. Also around this point, nymphs will begin participating in adult activities such as hunting and gathering as well as guarding the hive.

Vicilette (18 — 20)

The vicilites are fully developed physically and are on their way to being fully mentally developed as well. They are still technically children hence the name vicilette instead of vicilite.

[horrorwhores-posts]

Arts pet.

Summary: Your family decided to reopen the miles county carnival. And you soon catch the eye of a certain black and white clown.

Word count- 6307 (it’s a doozy)

Warnings: blood, mentions of dead bodies, sexual themes (but no smut), torture, reader/ character was written as afab but you should be able to read it as gender neutral.

Authors notes: this is my first ever fan fiction I’ve written so please be gentle on me. Also not proofread so there might be some errors. And this is about Art the clown soo, yeah. This big ol’ dork has me wrapped around his horn.

Maybe reopening the rundown carnival in Miles county wasn’t a good idea. But no matter how many times anyone told my father not too, he’d just brush it off. Working with your family is hard, even harder when you’re a carny family. My family and I have been on the road ever since my parents got married back in 93’. Soon after they had my older brother, sister, me, and finally my little twin brothers. My father joined the Barnum and Bailey circus when he was a teenager after his grandmother and sole guardian died. Being 15 with no other options, the circus became his new home and they welcomed him with open arms. My mother was the complete opposite, coming from a prestigious, well off, loving family; well if they liked you that is. My mother never really fit into her family, she had always been the black sheep and problem child. And no matter how hard her parents tried, she was never suited for their perfect world. She actually met my father when she was on a date with a “proper'' young man, as her mother put it. After spending roughly an hour listening to the high collared sleaze belittle every performance and worker he came in contact with, they got to my father’s act. Over the years he had climbed the ranks from being a cage cleaner to the circus’s headlining daredevil, and he was really good at it. His stunt that night was riding his motorcycle around a metal cage that was lit ablaze. Even my mother’s date was dumbfounded. After the show was over my mother refused to spend another second with her dick headed date. She snuck away from him and with the help of a hopeless romantic bearded woman she was able to go back to my fathers trailer. He said the second he laid eyes on her he knew he was going to marry her. And that night my mom decided to run away with him. My parents have been inseparable ever since.

Growing up the way we did, my siblings and I have developed multiple talents and were able to pick our own personal acts. My oldest siblings are aerial artists. I was one myself for a while and will even join in on their performances, but my actual love is contortion and fire breathing. The twins are in their teens and still learning about themselves every day. My father had always wanted to own a circus/carnival for himself, and over the past few years his craving to get off the road grew. Through the grape vine he had heard of the Miles county carnival being sold for little to nothing, we later found out that there were multiple murders there, which explained why the value was so low. My mother, sister and I all had our reservations about buying the place, but yet we still found ourselves standing at the entrance of the carnival in all of its glory. It took us months to spruce the place up, fix broken rides, and rebrand the whole park. My father even built a circus tent in the park where my family and other performers could perform if they wanted. We had our handful of protesters over the past few days but we also had a lot of tickets sold for tonight, opening night. I stood in the circus tent, looking at the time on my phone. 8:30; 30 minutes till opening and an hour till the show starts. Deciding to practice some of my aerial work for tonight's show, I gripped the soft silk as the music blasted through my speaker in the corner of the stage. I started going through the routine one last time, not noticing the black and white figure watching intently from the shadows. I ended on my finishing pose and nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard loud, sporadic clapping coming from the echoing seating area. I safely dismantled and shielded my eyes from the spotlight to see who was there. A black and white clown stood in the middle of the aisle between the seats still clapping with a large smile on his face. I felt my face heat up from embarrassment and anger.

“The show doesn’t start till 9:30, I’m sorry but you have to leave.” I said from atop the stage as I quickly gathered my items. The clapping ceased immediately and I glanced over my shoulder and saw the clown standing there, arms stiff at his sides, an emotionless face looking back at me. A shiver of dread prickled up my spine and I quickly exited backstage, still feeling his icy gaze on me. I briskly walked to my dressing room and locked the door behind me. I glanced at my phone screen and noticed it was only 8:50. ‘Wait, if we aren’t open yet how did he get into the tent?’ My thoughts were broken when three gentle raps came from my door, a common knock my sister used to let me know she was the one wanting in. I strode to the door and unlocked the handle, my sister stepped in and gently shut the door behind her.

“You okay? You rushed into this room like your ass was on fire.” she asked as I sat at my vanity, my head in my hands. With a deep sigh I rubbed my hands down my face and finally looked at her.

“Yeah, I think I’m just tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night.” I weakly responded. She lowered her eyes at me, assessing if she believed me or not. Her eyes softened as I guess she decided it wasn’t worth pressing.

“Maybe you should take a nap before you go out on stage, I’m going on first so I can wake you up when it’s almost your time to go on.” My eyes light up at the thought of getting some sleep.

“You promise? Like really?” I ask with hopeful excitement. She nodded her head, opened the door, waved, and gently closed it behind her. I glanced back at the mirror and saw the dark bags under my eyes, deciding a power nap would be best. I got up, turning off my main light, leaving my vanity lights on, and crawled on to the small gray couch. I had some burgundy throw pillows and a black blanket, I used to get nice and comfortable. In the dim light I could barely make out the posters I had adorning my walls. Mostly old Barnum and Bailey posters my dad snagged before he left, but there were a few photos of me performing. After a few minutes my eyes felt heavy and I quickly fell into a deep sleep.

‘The colorful lights were twinkling against the night that engulfed it. My nose was invaded with the sweet yet salty smell of popcorn and cotton candy. Energy buzzed around me like electricity, lightly shocking my senses. All around me were people playing games, eating food, and laughing with pure joy. In the distance you could hear the screams of ride goers as they raced into the air, some of them twisting and turning along the tracks. The environment was warm and inviting, glowing with delight. I soaked it all in. Embracing the happiness that flooded me, I pranced around the carnival, seeking out my next adventure. As I wandered through the fair I accidentally ran into a figure. He was tall, holding a bunch of red balloons, concealing his face from my view. A black sleeve emerged from the crowd of latex, holding a floating sphere out to me. I gently took it from his gloved hand, immediately hearing a loud, threatening crack from the sky above. Glancing up I noticed a fiery red glow erupt from behind the thick clouds rolling in the darkness of the sky. Suddenly the cheery demeanor of the festival dissipated and the screams of joy turned into ones of pure horror. I whipped around and saw multiple rides on fire, the patrons festering in their seats. Mutilated corpses laid strewn across the park, blood and guts splattered everywhere. My tears were singed on my cheeks from the heat of the flames. The scream that was bubbling in my throat was cut short as long, strong arms wrapped around me.’

I was startled awake, my body jerking up and my brain still fuzzy. I looked around my dimly lit room, looking for what caused my sudden consciousness. There were alarm bells going off in my head, but I couldn’t place what was causing them. Scanning my room for a second time, I immediately froze when I noticed the figure in the dark corner, my breath catching in my throat. Panic coursed through my veins as I fumbled to come up with a single coherent thought. The figure slowly stalked out of its hiding spot and into the dim light. My eyes finally focused on the lanky black and white clown towering over me, the same blank expression on his features as before. With my heart racing, I choked back a scream as he slowly bent down to my eye level, getting uncomfortably close. His dark eyes were threatening as he looked me up and down, assessing me. For what? I’m not fully sure. My chest was heaving from my rapid breath and pounding heartbeat, something he picked up on. He reached forward and placed a gloved hand on my chest, rolling his eyes back and breathing in deeply through his nose. I sat frozen as he smirked, opening his eyes and making intense eye contact.

My mind immediately went blank as the panic dissipated from my body, being replaced with a strong need. As I gazed into his onyx eyes I felt a strange, intimate connection to the man in front of me. His hand climbed from my chest to caress the side of my face, gently gliding his thumb over my lips. I slowly opened my lips, inviting the digit into my mouth, and sucked lightly as it hit my tongue. His taste was bitter and salty, and he smelt of fire and sweat. Normally I would be repulsed but for some reason I was intoxicated. The clown’s mouth was hung open with lust, chest quivering from his deep breaths. If he had pupils, I knew they would be dilated. My eyes closed as I savored the flavor of him, moaning softly. He pulled his hand away, I released his thumb with a soft pop. My eyes shot open as I felt a rough yank on the ponytail atop my head. I fell back and the man followed me, climbing on top of me. His long lanky frame just barely fit on the small couch with me. His hands roaming my sides as he buried his face into the crook of my neck, sucking and biting with a hunger I’ve never experienced before. I moaned as his hand snaked under my shirt, roughly grabbing at my chest.

A sharp pain radiated from my neck and I shrieked. His hand quickly clamped over my mouth as he continued the assault on my neck, warm blood trickling down my shoulder. Fresh tears streamed down my cheeks as I struggled to get out of the grip that was holding me down. Finally the man sat up, blood adorning his mouth and filled his smile. Hand still over my mouth, he ripped my shirt exposing more of my chest. A muffled scream was ripped from me as the clown dug his finger into my fresh neck wound. He then took said digit and proceeded to write something on my flesh. Once he was done, he leant back over me with a sick, mocking sad face. Dragging his finger down his cheek, mimicking a tear. Finally placing a finger over his mouth in a shushing manner, he leant down and kissed my temple with a surprising gentleness. The hand covering my mouth moved to wipe the tears off my face. I whimpered as he placed another tender kiss on my forehead. The mysterious man gave me one more smile and wave of his fingers before he was gone without a trace. I laid in silence, my mind completely blank try to make sense of the last 10 minutes.

A loud banging startled me out of my daze, as whoever knocked started to come in. Fearing it was the man from before, I sprang up and used my entire body weight to slam the door shut. I heard a muffled grunt and exclamation of “what the fuck” as the lock clicked back into place, preventing anyone from coming in.

“Hey, you missed the whole performance!” My older brother yelled at me from the other side of the door. Ice ran through my veins as I scrambled for my phone and noticed it was 10:45 pm.

“Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.” I exclaimed while throwing my phone back down on the couch. I caught a glimpse of myself in my vanity mirror and I looked horrible. Somehow the bags under my eyes were worse, my body was flushed, and my hair was completely disheveled. My neck was still dripping crimson, with obvious teeth marks. My shirt was jaggedly ripped with dried blood marking the visible skin. In messy, dripping lettering, ‘Art’s pet’ was written across my chest. A strange shiver ran back up my spine, and I stood there wondering if I’d ever see this man again. Most of me hoped I never would, but a tiny part of me begged to differ.

A few weeks have passed since the strange encounter with the black and white clown, I now know as “Art”. He’s also known as the miles county clown with a long list of victims. I thought for a second he was just a weird fever dream, but the tiny teeth shaped scars on my neck prove otherwise. I’ve constantly been thanking the powers above that it was getting colder out, with me having to wear turtle necks to obscure my markings. My dreams have also been haywire since that night, filled with decimated remains and burning fire. He’s always there too, welcoming me with his demented gifts and acts of passions. Whether it's a still beating heart, a crude mural of me in coagulated blood, or gory jewelry from his victims, he always has something to give me. Greeting me with his signature wide smile, accompanied by some flourish to produce the gift of the day. With his palms out stretched, eyes blinking innocently, he’ll traumatize me yet again with a morbid curiosity.

Luckily I’ve been able to push his invading presence out of my mind during performances and when I’m around my family. My sister has noticed I’ve become a bit more reclused and only asked me about it once. When I snapped at her with an anger she hadn’t seen before, she never pressed the issue after. Tonight I sat in my heavily decorated trailer, covered in old rock n roll posters, tapestries and sentimental trinkets. I had a small dark brown vanity sitting in the front of the small room, my burgundy red twin sized bed laid adjacent to the vanity. My clothes and costumes were strewn about and hung up on a small portable hanging rack, a small bookcase sat at the foot of my bed with a vintage, delicate, lamp sitting on it. Books lined the shelves, ranging from the classics like Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, and Bram Stokers’ Dracula. Tonight I was reading The Complete Tales of Edgar Allen Poe, my head was laid at the foot of my bed, my tiny lamp dimly lit the pages. I lounged lazily in only my black satin robe, trying to turn my mind off for the night, preparing for sleep. A sudden loud knocking came from my front door. With a jump, I bookmarked my spot and slowly sat up. The pounding came again, even louder and more aggressive than last time. I stood up and wrapped the robe tighter around myself, slowly reaching for the curtain covering the small window on my door. The fervent banging picked up once more, and with a flourish of anger, I ripped the door open without looking first. There, in the misty night, stood the clown of my nightmares. The white and black mirage stood stone still, eyes wide, a bouquet of wild flowers outstretched towards me. ‘No , no, no’ raced through my mind as the door started to close. My ragged breath caught in my throat as a large gloved hand slammed on the door as I tried to shut it. He slowly climbed the feeble stairs and stepped into my tiny trailer, hunching to prevent from hitting his head on the ceiling. I stared up at him with pure shock and a hit of fear. He gleamed down at me and he stretched the bouquet back to me. With shaky hands I gently pulled it from his humongous mitt, ogling the beautiful flowers in my hand and gave them a gentle sniff. The scent of fresh florals and the musky scent of the impending rain wafted towards me and I hummed with satisfaction. He bowed down, gently grasped my other hand, and gingerly pressed a kiss to my knuckles. A blush creeped up my face as I shyly looked away, pulling my hand from his grasp. He smirked and stalked towards my vanity, taking a seat on my small chair.

He patted his lap and looked at me expectantly with a big smile. I gingerly placed the bouquet on my bed, wiping my sweaty palms on my robe and approached him sheepishly, finally standing in front of him. He reached out and wrapped his long arms around me, pulling me into his lap, causing me to yelp. He nuzzled into my neck, his warm breath tickling the sensitive scar tissue, sending shivers down my spine. Smirking at me through the mirror, he rubbed my sides, gently squeezing, almost threatening to tickle me. I made direct eye contact with him in the mirror, trying my best to give him the stoniest stare I could. He frowned, looking down, twiddling with the satin belt. I swiftly grabbed his hand before he could untie my robe and I just stared at his reflection as he continued to look down with his ‘sad’ face. Slowly his eyes connected to mine in the glass and we just sat there staring at each other for a long pause. My expression stayed cold, and his frown curled up into a scowl. With a silent huff he rolled his eyes and pushed me off his lap. I stood, stunned, as he walked over to my clothing rack and palmed the sequined outfits. His face broke out with a wide smile as he grabbed a shiny red one piece body suit from the hanger, rushing up to me and pushing it towards me. I jumped at his erratic actions, my arms limply holding the outfit. I looked up at him with confusion, as he started miming taking off his clothes sensually, almost in a cartoonish manner. I gulped and tightly gripped the belt of my robe till my knuckles were white. With another silent, irritated huff, he tapped his clown shoes impatiently on the ground and looked at his wrist as if there was a watch there. Not wanting to anger the man in front of me, I turned around and with trembling fingers I picked at the knot holding my robe together. It finally fell free and it gently slinked off my shoulder. I laid the one piece on my vanity and slipped the robe completely off, avoiding my gaze from the mirror entirely. I was never one to stare at myself naked, let alone in front of the miles county murderer. Somehow I didn’t hear him sneak up behind me, instead being scared by his hands snaking around my waist.

“Why?” I whisper, finally locking eyes with him in the chrome glass. His chin was buried into my neck and his breath fanned against my cheeks. His eyebrows quirk up in a question and his face falls to the side, feigning innocent curiosity. With an annoyed huff I yank my way out of his grasp and turn to face him. My hands cemented on my hips.

“What do you want?” I ask rather gruffly. The look of shock briefly took over his features before being taken over by a look of malice. I felt the spurt of confidence I had immediately disappeared as he reached forward. His hand gripped my throat and in a flash I was thrown onto my bed. He laid atop of me with a look of glee as he watched me struggle for breath. I knew my face was on the verge of turning purple when he finally let go. He leaned over me and stuck his long sharp nose into my neck. I could feel his hot breath against my skin and a shiver ran down my spine. Somehow I just knew he was breathing in the scent of my fear. That thought caused yet another shiver to rack through me, and the clown wasn't oblivious to it. I felt something warm and wet run up the side of my neck. His tongue left a prickly sensation in its wake as he faced me again. A smile adorned his face and his finger came up to boop me on the nose. Clumsily, he crawled off of me and I remembered that I was nude. I grabbed my blanket and covered myself as Art grabbed the one piece setting on the dresser. He brought it to his face and took a big sniff. Yanking it from his nose he made a silent gagging motion and threw the one piece at me. It hit me in my chest and with caution I took a small smell of the fabric. My eyebrows drew together as the scent of laundry detergent invaded my nostrils. The clown had his nose pinched between his fingers, sticking his tongue out in yet another gag and I rolled my eyes.

After dressing in my red leotard, Art led me to the performance tent. I felt uneasy as I stood on the pitch black stage. A loud crack emanated through the room as the lights sprang to life, eerie silence followed in suit. I was temporarily blinded, squinting my eyes until they adjusted. Almost immediately I recognized the 5 people sitting in the front row. My family was duck tapped and gagged, unconscious in their confines, blood coming out of differing cuts and scratches on their faces, proving they put up a fight. My family wasn't the only people in the crowd. Decapitated torsos, gutted stomachs, and carved up bodies surrounded my family. Staring at the mutilated and bloody corpses caused bile to rise in my throat. Panic wracked through me causing tears to cloud my vision, falling to my knees, wretching. Art started clapping in a way to get my attention. I turned my head towards him, a giant blanket covering something behind him. He gestured to my family, an evil smirk adorning his face as I slowly looked back at them. They were gently stirring as they slowly started becoming conscious again. That’s when it dawned on me. 5. The twins, mom, dad, and my older brother. I whipped my head back towards the black and white clown.

“Where is she?” While Looking straight at me, he reached up, grabbing the thick white tarp. Yanking down, the cloth fell from the giant round shape. It revealed my sister strapped to the wheel of death, the spinning circular board we used for our knife throwing acts. She was also coming to lucidity, fear flooding her features once she was able to comprehend a little of what was going on. Art slowly stalked towards my crumpled frame, bending down and dropping daggers in front of me. Immediately looking between my sister and the blades I was able to piece together what he wanted.

“No, fuck no!” I screamed, crawling backwards away from the sharp knives. Art grabbed my upper arm in a Vice grip, almost immediately bruising. Picking me up by said arm he pushed me towards the pile of metal. I violently shook my head, wrapping my arms around myself, staring at the ground. He pinched my chin between his fingers and jerked it towards him. I stared at him with glossy eyes. He frowned at me and gestured his hand towards my sister. My face morphed from fear to complete hard anger.

“No.” I glowered, refusing to break eye contact with him. His face became stony as he pushed my chin from him. Standing to his full height he glared at me and walked off stage. With him gone I rushed to my sister to untie her from the spinning board. As I got to one of her wrists she looked at me with tears streaming down her face. Muffled words escaped her taped lips.

“Hold still, I’ll get you down faster.” As I was distracted with the buckle my sister seemed to notice a familiar figure creeping up behind me. Her silence quickly turned into muffled screaming and thrashing. Finally focusing back on my sister, her wide eyes told me everything I needed to know. Looking over my shoulder I saw the clown raise his arm with something in it. With a quick strike down, I felt searing pain rip through me. I was lurked forward with the sheer force of the whip, screams being torn from me with every strike of the weapon. My sister's tears rained down on me as I clung onto her for support as the lashing continued. My back felt like it was being sliced open by a million little knives. The searing pain caused my consciousness to start to waiver. My sisters muffled screams faded from me as my ears started ringing, only hearing the crack of the cat o’ nine tail. My mind focused on nothing but the constant burn radiating from the wounds, refusing to let my legs buckle from the pain. Finally the lashing came to a halt as I heard a voice ring out.

“Okay! Okay. She’ll do it, just stop!” I looked up at my sister, noticing the tape dangling from the corner of her mouth. Her tears must have loosened the adhesive. “Do it. I trust you. Just get it over with.”

With heavy breath I slowly and painfully turned, looking at the demented man in front of me. Cautiously limping towards the pile of throwing blades, my knees wobbled slightly. I stopped to regain my balance, before bending down to grab the steel daggers. The cold metal bit at the warm skin of my palms, and the weight of them threatened to pull me down. Turning back to face my sister, I saw Art forcing her mouth shut with fresh tape. She struggled a bit, glaring with a hatred I’ve never seen. I stole a glance back at my tied up family, differing levels of horror adorning their faces. My mothers face was covered with tears and my fathers face was hard with a fire licking behind his eyes. Nothing but fear adorned the twins faces, and my older brother was looking around. Forming a way to get out, I assumed. Clapping for attention, I turned back to the black and white demon, watching him grab onto the wheel, to heave it down with his full body weight. My sister started spinning and I took a deep breath. Separating a knife from the bundle, I aimed it, cocking my arm back and tossing the blade directly at the board. It landed right between my sister's legs. Grabbing another blade, I wretched my arm back and threw it again. Thinking was never a good idea when it came to knife throwing. Just aim, breathe, and throw. The more you stall, the more you hit the target. Before I knew it I only had one dagger left. All the other throws were perfect misses and I readied myself for a final good throw. A loud piercing honk rang into my left ear. My throw was ruined. And I watched in horror as the sharp steel plunged itself into the soft flesh of my sister's thigh. Her muffled scream was drowned out by the intense ringing in my ears as I turned and looked at the clown. He was pointing at my sister and silently belly laughing, holding his stomach.

“I hate you! You stupid, annoying motherfucker!” I ran up to Art, hitting him on his sturdy chest. He barely reacted as he looked down his nose at me, watching me pound onto him with my full weight. He snatched my wrists and held my arms out, staring at my red face as I continued screaming profanities at him. Smiling sinisterly, he let go of my wrists and stalked towards the, now still, round board my sister was still attached to. I had no clue what his plan was but I tightly grabbed his arm, refusing to move. Realizing he was anchored, he slowly faced me again. “What will make you stop?” I basically whimpered. His grin widened even more than I thought it could. He stood back up to his full height, and I couldn't help but gawk at his towering stature. Gazing up, he tapped his chin in a ‘thinking’ manner until he snapped his fingers in a eureka moment. Cocking his head to the side, he grinned at me, leaning his face down. Becoming eye level with me he gently tapped his cheek, as an indication to give him a kiss.

A wave of nausea hit me, but I also got a fuzzy, warm feeling course through me at the same time. I hated it. I hated myself, for having some sort of affection for the man who’s done nothing but torture me and my family. I snapped back to reality when a loud clap erupted in front of my face. I blinked and refocused on the man in front of me. His face was almost child-like as he watched me with pure, I’m not sure, adoration? I took a deep, quivering breath, and stepped forward. Wrapping my arms around his neck, balancing on my tip toes, and I gave him what he wanted. Granted it wasn’t on his cheek, but he didn’t seem to mind. His lips still had that rich smokey flavor as last time. His hands immediately found my hips and pulled me in closer, almost desperate to get me closer. His tongue licked at my lips and I opened eagerly. I just let him have control, not feeling strong enough to put up a fight. I pulled back with a gasp as a sharp pain came from my lip. A small trickle of blood ran down Art's chin, causing me to reach up and gingerly touch my bottom lip. Pulling my hand back, there was warm blood covering my finger tips, and my lower lip throbbed.

“Let them go.” I croaked out. Art still had his grip on my waist, and squeezed almost threateningly. His eyebrows knitted together and his eyes squinted together in distrust. “If you want me, let them go. I’ll be all yours, no questions asked. As long as they’re safe.” I gently cupped the side of his face and placed our foreheads together. Our breathing slowed and we shared a moment of peace. Running my thumb over his jagged cheek bone, I felt my eyes water.

“Please.” I whimpered. Tears ran down my face as I finally looked up at my tormentor. His eyes almost softened when he saw me. His hand moved from my waist to my cheek, brushing the tears off as they fell. With a gentle kiss to my forehead, he stretched up to his full height and stepped back. He turned to the side and lifted his arm towards my sister. I slowly looked between the appendage and her. Making eye contact with the man again, I nodded and sped walked up to my sister. She was barely lucid. I lightly slapped her face and her eyes finally focused on me. Pulling a knife out of the board, I cut away at the leather straps holding her to the panel. When she finally tried to put weight on her leg she screamed. She grabbed the knife sticking out of her thigh and I supported her the best I could. I looked over my shoulder to see Art was gone. Not waiting a single moment I hobbled her across the stage, refusing to listen to her pleas to stop. We finally got to our trapped family. They sat there with nothing but pure terror and tears on their faces. With the dagger I cut my father loose first. Immediately he wrapped me in a bear hug, almost squeezing me a bit too hard. He held me for what felt like years but was no longer than a few seconds. My sister struggled to release my mother from her confines when we heard a loud boom. The heat came soon after as the back of the stage was lit ablaze. The fire grew to the top of the tent within seconds.

“Jesus Christ!” My father hollered as he, and the rest of us, scrambled to free our brothers. The smoke was thick and dark, making breathing almost impossible. Coughing, we were able to untie my brothers. We all were kneeling down toward the ground, trying to avoid the thick musk above us. “We’re not gonna be able to make it!” My mother screamed, as the loud crackle of the flames almost drowned her out. I could tell my sister was worse for wear, and I had no idea how to get her out. While my head was swimming with panicked thoughts, my eldest brother noticed the dagger I still had clutched in my hand. He grabbed the blade out of my hand, dashing towards the closest tent wall and carved into it.

“Come on!” He screamed as everyone rushed to the new opening. I grabbed my sister and supported/ dragged her out of the tent. Her consciousness was faltering when I laid her on her back. We hacked and gagged as we finally got some of our breath back. The tent was completely ablaze. I heard sirens wailing in the distance as my head started to spin. I started dry heaving while slowly crawling away from my family, not wanting them to see me like this. My vision blurred from the tears and the spinning when I suddenly saw I black shape in front of me.

“Get away from her!” A distorted familiar voice rang out as I looked up and saw a blur of white and black. For a split sec I was able to focus and I saw Art standing there. Blank faced and fists balled to his sides, he raised his foot. In a split second everything went black.

Waking up was almost like a nightmare to me. My head pounded and I was freezing. The room was still spinning and My eyes couldn’t focus on anything. I tried to move, but I was cramped in something small. With a groan I reached out and touched something cold and metal. But it wasn’t solid, it felt like it was made out of metal wiring. I adjusted myself and once again heard the ringing in my ears start up. The floor was solid underneath me, but I could see outside of my confines. My fingers once again grasped the walls around me and it all clicked. I was in a steel cage. Visions of what happened before I was knocked out bombarded my brain. Adrenaline mixed with panic and caused everything to come into sharp focus. There wasn’t much to see, it was dark and dingy, a single light swung above my cage. A smashed tv sat on the floor across from a table with a little stool. Blood and various sharp objects littered the table. I immediately scattered backwards until my back hit the chain wall. The reality of what I agreed to dug its way to the forefront of my brain. I agreed to be with this man. For whatever he shall need me for. My stomach flipped as all the possible scenarios ran through my mind. My leotard -covered body shivered in the corner of the cage. My erratic breathing caused me to notice that there was something around my neck. My throat felt constricted and panic wracked through me as I clawed at it until I got a decent grip, ripping it from my throat. In my hand sat a collar. A. Fucking. Collar. My ears weren’t ringing, it was the bell on the collar the entire time. I was drowning in my thoughts when The entire cage rattled, as someone else shook it. I snapped my head up and was greeted with Art's smiling face. He lifted up the top of the cage, revealing the door. His face slowly morphed into frown as he looked at my face, then my neck, and finally to the collar in my hand. He held out a finger initiating to give him a minute and closed the cage. Prancing over to the table I saw him pull a thin sparkling string up and hold it close to himself. After finagling with it for a moment, he walked back over, and completely flipped the top of the cage open. He held out his hand, dangling there was a necklace with a heart dog tag. It read “Arts pet”.

[ghostoffuturespast]

10 October 2023 - Friday Field Notes

Fall is here. The days are getting shorter and the nights are getting colder. Got to spend some time at one of the other offices this week. All the leaves are starting to change and I haven't seen this little lady in a while.

This bullsnake is an education animal, not a pet. I know they're cute, but wildlife needs to stay wild and should not be kept as pets.

These tansy asters are some of the late blooms you'll find on the prairie. Many native flowering plants have staggered bloom cycles, some flowering plants bloom as early as Apri, if conditions are favorable, while others species bloom as late as October or November. In biodiverse rich ecosystems, you should be able to see flowers throughout the season at different times. They take turns sharing the stage. This not only reduces competition between plant species, but also allows wildlife species to utilize resources throughout the growing season. Healthy ecosystems are good at supporting all the things in it. Can you spot the bee?

Most plants out here have gone to seed though, like the sunflowers, showy milkweed, and the false boneset.

And it also means time to harvest and eat stuff. Strawbaby from the garden, a cultivated plant, and common ground cherry, found growing out on the prairie.

(@irrigone finally found some ground cherries that were ripe enough to eat! They have the consistency of a tiny grape and they kinda taste like sweet tarts candy. Not bad. Ate a couple and didn't die 👍 Would recommend as a light snack.)

Exoskeleton of a plains lubber and some fringe sage. One of my fav plants out here, smells delightful.

And one of my not so favorite plants (at least out here, totally cool if found in its native home range) Mullein is a biennial plant, meaning it has a two year life cycle, and it's an invasive weed in my neck of the prairie, and arguably, the rest of the Great Plains and grassland habitats in N. America. The first year it grows as a basal rosette, close to the ground. Basal plants grow from the root base as opposed to forming new tissue towards the top. Most grasses grow this way too, which is why you can mow it without killing the whole plant. Same thing with mullein. In order to make sure the plant does grow back during manual removal you have to pull up the tap root as well.

The second year they'll flower, and produce these massive flower stalks that produce hundreds of seeds. And they're all tiny. Some stalks can get up to 3-4 feet tall and produce thousands of seeds that stay viable in the ground for years. It's no wonder they get everywhere and are so hard to manage.

Invasive species can take over ecosystems if left unchecked and reduce the biodiversity and overall health of native habitats.

Weed management strategies and good land stewardship practices help support wildlife. Like these pronghorn. Wildlife will stick around in habitat if they can get the resources they need to survive and thrive.

Pronghorn, often referred to as antelope, are actually more related to giraffes than antelope. They're also the second fastest land animal in the world and can reach sustained running speeds of 55mph. They prefer wide open grassland habitat.

Fall is rutting season, so all the boys have been extra feisty lately and chasing everyone around. Been getting a lot more stare downs from them lately.

[serene-sun]

𝕱𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖘𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖌𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖘

Warning: this is about a miscarriage, you go through the stages of grief and have thoughts of suicide. There is comfort at the end.

“A-a baby?” copia says in disbelief, taking his white hat off and holding it to his chest.

His gloves squeak as they nervously rub together. His posture straightens after a few seconds, “this is wonderful news!”

You exhale after holding it for his reaction as you set down the pregnancy test, “you're going to be a papa.”

-

Oh, the festivities! The baby shower, the announcement, and the uplifted air that came with the spring season.

The ministry was practically bouncing with joy as the news of a new heir to the emeritus bloodline spread across red lips and pointed ears.

It had been around thirteen weeks, and you had just gotten out of the bath. Copia had placed a nice plate of grapes and cheeses on your vanity as he eagerly helped you to your cushioned seat.

“You know you don’t have to baby me,” you say sweetly as the older band kneels to your side, grabbing a brush and gently untangling your hair.

“Oh but I must, my child and lover right here…” he clicks his tongue as he gently places a warm hand on the shy bump of your stomach.

“My brothers and their mistresses are sure to be jealous!” He jokes as you put a hand over his.

“Possibly…it doesn’t help we have more fun than them…” you say, voice low and sweet as you slide his hand farther down to your inner thigh.

The cardinal's eyes light up, his brow rising as he gently squeezes your soft flesh. His hand trailed closer until he felt wetness against the pad of his finger.

“Oh? Already so wet?” He says as he looks into your eyes, so starry and full of love.

You smile, it was odd you would be so aroused when you weren’t very horney. But you assumed it was the unbalanced hormones.

Copia takes his hand away, standing up. As you pout, you soon catch a glimpse of the red steak across your thigh from where his cold wet finger had drug against your skin.

Blood?

“Copia..?” You ask as you shakily look at the small trails of blood bleeding down your thighs and legs.

Copia chuckles, “What my dear, can’t wait any longer?” He says unknowingly of the seriousness.

You struggle to form words, fear stripping you of processing anything to say.

Copia tilts his head, his eyes follow yours until he sees the growing blood again seeping into the blue rug.

“Oh dear..what…what’s happening?” He asks in a panic, holding your knees together.

A tear rolls down your eye, would that be the last time he looked at you like that? You realize, the meaning of the blood, and it’s as if your life flashes by your eyes. All the memories you had made these past weeks flashed like the world was on fire and you were now face to face with death itself.

What kind of cruel act of god was this, what had you done to deserve this…

Your eyes swell, they’re dim and unresponsive as your vision blurs with tears while they stare into the bright light of the white hospital wall.

“I’m terribly sorry for your loss…” the doctor's voice fades out.

You don’t feel anything, numbness takes over your body like an empty channel on an abandoned TV. And now, that your womb was empty, like an abandoned house, you feel a raging dagger pierce your heart. It’s so strong it shakes the tear from your eye as it softly drips onto your shirt, like the beginning of a rain storm.

This was the beginning of a storm, but it has no rain. Only thunder that would strike a no longer growing tree that catches flame.

This flame is the voice of you and your beloved yelling at each other. Endless nights of blame and hatred that you rip from your own soul. You don’t speak for months, you don’t look at each other or talk of one another. It’s deadly silence, like a battlefield where all life is gone. The bed is cold, the crib collecting dust as the door to the nursery stays closed.

You find yourself sitting in the chapel longer than usual, keeping your hands together like life depended on it as you sob. You pray, you beg, you offer your life and very soul to bring what is gone. “I…I will do whatever it takes….just let me see them..” You bargain, rain starts to pound against the tall stained glass. You look up at the tall statue of Baphomet. You claw at your flesh, feeling the painful loss pull you away from faith. It would be days since you come back to the chapel.

Your eyes study the stone ceiling, your pale face gloomy in the dark room. Your soul begs for a reason to continue. You haven’t looked into the eyes of something living in six weeks, and you feel heavy when you stand. Weakness spreads through your bones like your muscles are rotting as your red eyes slowly blink. You feel like poison runs in your veins as you think that anything you do will go horribly wrong. You see no point in anything, so you take it upon yourself to drag your limp limbs to what was once heaven. Your true loves arms was all you wished for, at-least before you would act upon the despicable.

You push open the large door, only a few candles lit as you find his limp form draped across his bed. His hat is once again on his chest, his black makeup smeared and his hair messy as an opened bottle of whiskey was left between his arm and his side.

You push yourself, you force yourself to make your presence known.

The old man arises with a stir, embarrassed of his appearance before he noticed it’s you. His eyes soften deeply as he sees your state. All you can do is break into a sob as those loving eyes twine into your heart, sewing together the shattered pieces of life like turning sand into glass. He stands up and sets his hat down, his lips part, words starting to spill, pleads falling from his chapped lips before your body completely collapses into his in a weak hug. Your tears stain his clothes, his hands wrap around you in an embrace even god couldn’t break. Your eyes go wide as you let out a hurling scream, you both fall to your knees in the floor keeping the hug. He starts to sob as well, your arms wrapping around him tightly.

There is no denying it, it has happened and it is in the past. But what was once broken can be fixed, and what is gone cannot be taken back.

But love finds a way through the crevices of our broken hearts and mends them back together in a steel bond stronger than the forces that divides us.

[msmorningstaarr]

Sneak Peek from Chapter 11

So… it’s been a while since I don’t do these kind of stuff and I miss being more active with this fanfic. But hey! Let’s face the bright side: Oberyn and Melara are finally being the lovers I yearn them to be! Let’s cut the chit chat, enjoy the small reading 🩷

It was a calm afternoon. Oberyn had decided to end his duties around the castle earlier to be taking care of Melara, who still had not overcome her sickness and tiresome. The Gods seemed to finally open Oberyn’s heart and since that day where they decided to put their differences aside to build a relationship, everything changed. When both discovered that the blonde princess was with child, a new spark was born in the eyes of her husband. The Father was just and listened to her prayers. Being with child at first was quite the distressful news, in all honesty. Melara could not fathom the feeling of yearning for something so much and still dread it to its core. There would be nights where her nightmares would haunt her sleep and she would dream of a bloodshed where the maesters would cut her in half to take the babe out of her, just like it was done to her mother.

Lady Rhea told her the story of her birth when she was no longer than seven years of age and her mind graphically imagined the bloody moment she was born. Guilty often dawned on her to think that her life was possible at the expense of another person. Was I worthy of it? She thought.

The words of her stepmother tormented her mind and now, more than ever, the fear of being a disappointment grew stronger inside of her. Could she ever be a good mother to the child growing inside of her? Could she even survive the childbirth to be anything to this child? For a pregnancy in the mild stage, her bump was huge. Word spread throughout the castle that Melara could be expecting twins, given her current size and stage of expectation and the intrusive thoughts were dreading her again. That is when she felt close to faint when she was listening to Septa Lorna give her recommendations to maintain a good health besides her current state.

Melara still felt bothered by the constant fuss over her, it was not something she was used to having in the Starry Sept and not even in Hightower, but after sharing many conversations with her husband, he convinced her to be more welcoming to this kind of treatment.

Oberyn smiled at her once he entered their quarters and found Lya, Megga, Lys and Melessa surrounding her. Lys fed Melara with grapes and Lya took water to her lips. Melessa and Megga massaged her feet while two other servants fanned the princess. Melara briefly stared at Lya and noticed a certain blush spreading across her cheeks and her eyes lowered quickly once Oberyn entered the room whilst Lya used her own hands to caress her also pregnant womb.

The servants immediately bowed to the salty prince and waited for their commands. “You can leave us now.” He said, calmly. His gaze never left Melara’s. The prince and princess have not even noticed how quick to disappear the other ones were.

There was a time where any kind of eye contact would make her embarrassed, ashamed. None of this was real around her lord husband from now onwards. He had made a mother of her, once her wish was given by the Mother and her infinite kindness. Everything was different, Melara felt different. She felt comfortable around him. There was no fear or displeasure, only sympathy. “I came the second someone told me you were on the verge of fainting again.” He said, slowly approaching her.

Melara just pouted her lips and arched her eyebrows. “I was not, husband.”

“Many moons have been gone since the day I took you as my wife and I can count on my fingers how many times you have called me by my name. You must call me Oberyn, my fallen star.”

[louisupdates]

A lucky collector will be able to purchase one of Louis’ white label vinyls through auction to benefit the Brit Trust. [Article]

The White Label Auction in Aid of The BRIT Trust – the world’s only known auction of “white label” test pressings – takes place next week on Tuesday, 6th June 2023. This year it will have more than 200 lots of highly collectible ‘white-label’ test pressings – the most offered in the four editions of the auction to date since it began in 2019.

The online/on-site auction is once again being hosted by music memorabilia and vinyl records specialists Omega Auctions from their Newton-Le-Willows (Greater Manchester) base. The full catalogue can be accessed here.

Fans and collectors can bid from a huge selection of white label test pressings that rarely come to market, with some even signed by the artists such as The Cure, Frankie Goes To Hollywood, New Order, and Wilko Johnson.

The UK’s record labels led by Universal Music UK, who founded the event with the BPI, along with BMG, Domino Recordings, Cherry Red, Sony Music Entertainment UK, Warner Records and others, each year join forces to curate a broad selection of white label auction lots to raise funds for the vital work of music industry charity The BRIT Trust – which promotes education and wellbeing through music and the creative arts to support causes that include the BRIT School and Nordoff and Robbins.

In January the BPI reported that vinyl albums had recorded a 15th year of consecutive growth in the UK, with over 5.5m LPs purchased in 2022. This rising demand for vinyl has in turn resulted in a growing archive of white label test pressings – so called because there is no sleeve artwork at this early stage – which record labels produce ahead of the full release of an album to ensure its audio quality. With only a handful produced, these first-off-the-press copies are snapped up by collectors on the rare occasions they become available, as evidenced by the huge interest in the three White Labels Auctions to date, which between them have raised around £100,000.

White label test pressings by the following artists:

Arcade Fire / Beth Gibbons, Portishead / Black Grape / Blind Faith / Blossoms / Brian Eno / Bryan Ferry / Budgie / Buzzcocks / Calvin Harris & Dua Lipa / Calvin Harris, Katy Perry & Pharrell Williams / Calvin Harris & Sam Smith / Camel / Caravan / Celeste / The Charlatans / Chemical Brothers / Christy Moore / Corinne Bailey-Rae / Cream / The Cure / Daryl Hall & John Oates / Deep Purple / Derek and The Dominoes / Dexy’s Midnight Runners / Diana Ross / Dio / Dirty Pretty Things / Donovan / Doves / Duffy / Dusty Springfield / Ed Sheeran / Emeli Sandé / Eric Carmen / Eric Clapton / The Ethiopians / Eurythmics / The Fall / Fairport Convention / Frankie Goes To Hollywood / ightened Rabbit / Gary Moore / Gaz Coombes / Genesis / George Ezra / Graham Parker / Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five / Gregory Isaacs / Helloween / Inspiral Carpets / Iggy Pop / J Hus / Jacob Collier / Jake Bugg / The Jam / Jamie T / Joe Cocker / John Martyn / John Martyn & Beverley Martyn / John Mayall / Joni Mitchell / Julian Cope / Justin Hayward and John Lodge / Karl Hyde / Kate Nash / Katie J Pearson / Kelis / Kid Creole / Kings of Convenience / Koffee / The LA’s / Laura Marling / Level 42 / Led Zeppelin / Lindisfarne / Linton Kwesi-Johnson / Louis Tomlinson / Ludovico Einaudi / The Lumineers / McAlmont & Butler / Madness / Manic Street Preachers / Marianne Faithfull / Mark Ronson & Miley Cyrus / Mark Knopfler / Meat Loaf / Melt Yourself Down / The Members / The Mighty Diamonds / Mike and The Mechanics / Mike Oldfield / MJ Cole Moby / Monty Python / The Moody Blues / Motorhead / Mott The Hoople / Nathaniel Rateliff / Nazareth / Neneh Cherry / New Order / Nicholas Briteli / Noah and The Whale / Nothing But Thieves / Nova Twins / Orchestra Manouevres in the Dark / Pale Fountains / Paloma Faith / Paul Weller/ Penguin Café Orchestra / Pete Townshend / Pete Townshend and Ronnie Lane/ PiL / Pulp / Quincy Jones / Rag ‘n’ Bone Man / Rainbow / Rhys Lewis / Richard & Linda Thompson / Rick Wakeman / Rizzle Kicks / Robbie Williams / Robyn / Roger Waters / Ronnie James / Rory Gallagher / The Ruts / Sam Cooke / Sandie Shaw / Sandie Shaw & The Smiths / Sandy Denny / Scissor Sisters / The Scorpions / Scott Walker / Selecta’s Choice Series / Sex Pistols / Shed Seven / The Silvertones / Simple Minds / The Skatalites / Sparks / The Slits / Soul II Soul / The Specials / The Spice Girls / Squeeze / Status Quo / Stereophonics / Steve Winwood / The Stone Roses / Supertramp / T-Rex / Tame Impala / Tangerine Dream / Teardrop Explodes / Tears For Fears / The Teskey Brothers / Therapy? / Thin Lizzy / Tom Speight / Travis / UB40 / The Undertones / Underworld / UNKLE / The Vaccines / The Vamps / Van Morrison / Various: Blue Note / Various Folk / Various Dance - John Morales and others / Various – Little Big Lies / Various – NOW Yearbooks 1980 - 1985 / Various – The Wanderer / Various – Soul / Various – Sound of the Suburbs / The Verve / The Wedding Present / The Who / Wilko Johnson / You Me At Six

See here for full Omega Auctions catalogue list of featured titles.

[rose0725]

Butler's wine festival

Episode 3

[Traditional Wine Festival]

⚠️ The translation Can be wrong

We rode a carriage and headed west on the well -maintained highway ...

When I arrived at the city of Tobiris, I changed into a festival costume at the inn ...

I immediately went to the wine festival.

Mu:Wow ~!

It's a very big festival! There are a lot of alcohol and food stores!

Lucas:Heh~,That's not the only highlight. Look,Look at the central square?

Mu:Is it a square?

Oh hey, by the way, there is something on the stage.

Looking at the wooden stage, which seems to be specially established in the square ...

Along with light music, people wearing unique costumes appeared on the stage.

Mu:Ah!

It looks like something has just begun now!

Lono:Heh~

It's a very sharp dance.

You:I agree

Mu:My legs move slowly and my body turns around ...

It's amazing ...

Just looking at it, it seems that my eyes will dizzy around here!

What, what ...

Even though I tried to look away, I can't keep my eyes on it ~!

Boschi:That kind of dance is,

Lucas:Heh~. That's a dance that attracts what you see.

Hanamaru:I know. Look, Mu,come here.

Hanamaru hugs Mu who to keeps his eyes off the dance. Thanks to that Mu, he seems to have finally regained his consciousness.

Mu:Oh, thank you hanamaru. It was helpful…….

Hanamaru:That is good. By the way, Mu ...

Are you.....getting more and more heavier than when we first met?

Mu:I'm sorry! I'm still growing up ...

Hanamaru:Heh ~. Your growing up, huh ...

For that, the "nutrition" that you ate ...

It looks like you're addicted here?

Mu:Uhya!Oh, please do not pinch the stomach~!

Boschi:Good grief. Regardless of the festival, they are lively guys.

Lono:This is my first time to come to this city ....

I didn't know that it was such a lively festival. I wish I had come sooner!

Lucas:Haha. Especially this year seems to have been a natural year. It seems that people in the city are especially enjoying the festival.

Mu:Natural year ...?/A year of hit ..?

What is it?

Lucas:What is the year of hit? To put it simply, it's a year when you can make a lot of good wine. It means that the grapes of grapes, which are the raw materials of wine, were so good.

Mu:Heh ~ As expected, Lucas, you know!

Hmm... Does that mean that there are so many delicious grapes in this city!

Lono:Mu. As I said, you can't eat grapes.

Mu:Uh ... I know, of course. When I became a butler ...

The first job given by Lono is ...

I learned the "list that I can't eat"!

Lono:no….

Is it useless to eat snacks?Well, whatever. Anyway, there may be some ingredients here that I will see for the first time. Just in case, the purchase of the ingredients is also with Mu ...

Wine dealer:that?What is there ...

you:(yeah…?)

Wine dealer:oh!

After all it is Lucas -kun.

Lucas:This is ... I have been indebted to you./This is ... thank you as always.

Wine dealer:I'm glad to meet you./I'm glad to see my customers. Will you buy it from our house again this year?

Lucas:yes🎶

The winery at home is the best in Tobilis.

Wine dealer:Huhahaha!As usual, I will be happy.

Mu:Um ... Who is that person talking to Lucas?

You:An acquaintance ...?

Boschi:As you can see from the story ...

I guess it's a familiar wine dealer. There is no prejudice to the devil's butler ...

He seems to be a partner.

You:That's right

Mu:It was good that there were people who understand!

Hanamaru:Hehe. If you're a decent merchant, you don't discriminate against customers. If they pay for the money ... You don't care if your opponent is a villain.

Mu:Well, I see ... Is that something ...?

Lono:Hanamaru ... Do not plant the values of rubbed adults in the pure heart of Mu. Boschi -san, please say something!

Boschi:I don't think Hanamaru said something wrong ...

Hanamaru:oh yeah.That's the world.

Lono:It's no good, no, there's only a dirty adult here ... I have to protect Mu's pure heart.

Boschi:Hey.Who is a dirty adult.

Lucas:Excuse me, Lord.

You:Lucas, what happened?

Lucas:yes. Now, I was talking to a business partner wine dealer ...

After this, we decided to have a meeting ...

I'm sorry for this.

Mu:Oh, is it the purchase of wine? Then let's go together ...

Lucas:yeah,Most of the document work is about the purchase.

I want the Lord and Mu -chan to enjoy the atmosphere of the festival more.

Mu:That's right ...

Then, I'm ...

Lono:Mu and Hanamaru will go out with the purchase of ingredients.

I told you a while ago ... It's an important job of the butler to see and learn various ingredients.

Mu:Okay! I will study a lot with Lono!

Hanamaru:So, I know Mu is but ... Why me?

Lono:Hanamaru is drinking various liquor stores, right?

That's why you're more familiar with sake than me ...

If there is an ingredient that seems to be a snack ... Please lend your wisdom!

Hanamaru:Heh~I can't help but help.

Leaving it like that ...

Actually, you just want to take your luggage and just take it? (He means the ingredients and snacks that Lono wants to pack in his luggage)

Lono:What is it? As expected, Hanamaru -san, you were looking for!

I'm going to have more luggage today ...

Please bring a lot!

Hanamaru:Yeah ... I knew it.

I knew, but can't you lie until the very end?

Boschi:That is ...

I am the only remaining ...

Lucas:I would like to ask Boschi to be the guide for the Lord.

"The city of memories" ...

It is good to look around slowly with the Lord.

You:The city of memories ...?

Boschi:Lucas ...

Where is that story ...

Lucas:Yeah🎶

Did you hear from Boski last night?

When Boschi's tongue became smooth ...

Pfftt

Boschi:Chis. After all, did you drink too much yesterday?

...got it.

The Lord's guidance will be undertaken.

Lucas:Yeah🎶

Please, Boschi -kun.

Lono:Then the Lord!

Later.

Hanamaru:There are many drunks , so be careful?

You: Understood.

Boschi:It's okay because I'm here.

Hanamaru:I told Boschi now.

Don't overdo it even if you get drunk

Ne.

Boschi:Ah. I know.

In this way, Boski and I decided to look around the festival together.

*I'm sorry 😞 I procastinate a lot