#flowers for the casket in Spring

[flowerstudiotx]

Beautiful Flowers for the Casket in Spring, TX: A Heartfelt Tribute

When honoring a loved one, selecting the right flowers for the casket in Spring, TX, is a meaningful way to express your emotions. Local florists offer a variety of elegant options, from delicate roses and lilies to bold chrysanthemums and orchids. Custom arrangements can reflect the personality of the deceased, adding a personal touch. Whether it's a serene white arrangement or a colorful mix, these floral tributes provide comfort and beauty during difficult times. Let flowers help convey love, remembrance, and peace.

[lovelylittlegrim]

When we Begin

Written for @steddiemicrofic

Prompt:Rose |Wc #367 |rated:Gen |CW: none

It’s cliche but Eddie really does love roses.

He thinks they’re romantic but not in a cheesy romcom way. He finds them a little macabre in their versatility. How they’re the flower you give a new love on a first date and they’re the flower you drop onto a casket as you say a final goodbye. Love can begin and end with a single rose.

In Eddie's opinion they’re metal and he’s never been embarrassed about what he enjoys. Then again, he’s never talked about why he likes them before now.

“Is that weird,” Eddie asks after Steve’s been quiet for too long. The joint they’ve been sharing is down to its last dregs and Eddie fiddles with putting the roach out before it can burn his fingers.

“I think it’s neat,” Steve says at last, eyes fixed to the roof of Eddie’s van. “Guys never talk about their favorite flowers. Is it red roses that you like?”

Eddie nods. “Red, white, any color, except yellow.”

Steve snorts, finally rolling his head to look over at him. “Not metal enough?”

They’re close, laying in the back of Eddie’s van at the quarry. They’ve been coming here more often. Ditched by Robin and left to their own devices while she’s out with Vickie.

“I don’t think yellows my color.” Eddie grins. “Might be yours.”

Steve hums. “I think I’m more of a poppy guy.”

Eddie can see it. Steve in a field of poppies. All orange and red, sun bright above him, smile even brighter. Eddie will find a field once spring comes along just to see it for real. He bets it’s a sight.

The thought follows him home, fills his dreams with color and the sound of Steve’s laughter.

When morning comes, Eddie’s roused by the sound of knocking. He stumbles to the door, ready to chew out whoever’s at his door only to freeze the moment it’s open.

Steve stands there, holding out a red rose, cheeks pink.

Eddie thinks about what he’d told Steve the night before. How love begins with a rose.

“Hi,” Steve says, voice soft and full of affection.

Eddie takes the rose, hides his face in the aromatic petals. “Hi.”

[voxslays]

I BET ON LOSING DOGS — SE-MI

^ྀི Oh her sweet partner…how could this have happened!? One moment, you were fine, standing tall and proud. And the next, you were being hauled away in a casket by one of the pink shape guards.

^ྀི Se-mi will definitely blame herself for what happened. In ^ྀི her mind, if she was a better girlfriend, maybe you both would’ve made it out alive. But now, it’s too late.

^ྀི For the remainder of the games she is stuck on you. You’re all she can think about, in fact. Se-mi is convinced she has nothing to live for after you’re gone, so she becomes reckless.

^ྀི When she makes it out of the games alive (BECAUSE SHE IS STILL ALIVE). Everything reminds her of you, and the short but amazing time you two shared together.

^ྀི Whenever she’s out in public—or anywhere really—and she sees the number that was placed on your tracksuit, she is instantly reminded of your smile.

^ྀི From the spring flowers, to the autumn rain, to the gentle sway of snowflakes as they land on her face in winter—she sees you everywhere. As if you’re watching over her in some magical way.

[crystaljade22]

Forgotten Batsibling Pt2!!

Y/N: Your name

H/N: Hero Name

F/C: Favorite color

TW. Sad stuff, guilt, self-blame.

It’s been a month since Y/N died. After the flames were doused, the fire department and the police scoured the building looking for the body of the fallen hero. The only thing they found of the lost hero was the mask. There was no body left to be found, no remains, no ashes. The warehouse fire consumed all of them. The mask stays inside of the case which once held their suit, now empty. A memoir to the house without you, empty.

Bruce has tried his best to be strong, to be the hero that Gotham needs. But he can’t help but spend hours looking at the mask with regret and guilt. Regret for letting you go in to save Jason, and guilt for not realizing that the savior needed to be saved. Guilt for letting another child die. 

Damian has refused to even enter the Batcave. All he sees is a constant reminder of the sibling he once had, the person who would go to the moon and back for all of them, now gone. He swears he can still hear your voice calling his name from downstairs, and he can’t help the tears that spring to his eyes when he thinks about you. 

Your room hasn’t been touched since their death, the door shut and locked up. No one has ever been able to look at the room, their guilt or sadness overpowering their will to do so. 

Dick constantly wishes for just one more patrol with you, to hear your voice one more time. He regrets every moment he tried to get away from you, or left you behind. He glances behind him, hoping that you’ll be right there, just like you usually would despite his attempts to shake you off. 

Tim has noticed now when his coffee runs out and tastes different than usual. Whenever he’s on a mission, he notices that his success percentage is lower than normal. There is no one there to jump in when a step goes in the bin. No one waiting to check on him after a mission. He’s finally noticed and acknowledged the fact that you’re gone. And he’s shut down any emotions that come with it. He is probably the only one in the family who could open your bedroom door, but he can’t bring himself to do it because he feels he isn’t worthy to do so. 

Now Jason on the other hand, can’t pull himself out of his work. He feels he can’t take off the mask because if he does, he’s afraid he’ll crumble and fall apart. He keeps telling himself to stay strong, and to stay Red Hood because right now, the people of Gotham don’t need Jason, they need you. They need H/N. As soon as Jason takes off the mask when he gets to one of his safe houses, he instantly breaks down. All he can see is the moment he knocked you down, and caused your demise. The last thing he saw of you was you holding the beam up for him to escape. He swears he can feel you watching over him, even though he caused your death. All he can think is that he’s the reason you're dead. He killed you, the only person who ever seemed to care, even when he had tried to hurt you. 

You didn’t get the proper funeral that everyone felt you deserved. The people of Gotham mourned for days, the Commissioner and the Mayor themselves speaking at your funeral. Funny enough, even the Joker took the day off despite the clear opportunity he had to go and create utter chaos. There was no body to bury. The city lowered an empty casket into the ground, and then erected a statue of you over it. A memory forever ingrained into the people of Gotham’s minds of the hero who once lived to save the city. 

Of course, Bruce had to figure out how to tell the press that Y/N Wayne was gone, without revealing the fact that you were H/N. They managed to make up a story of you falling seriously ill, and succumbing to it. They played it off to the media as having a private funeral and having the body buried in their graveyard. Y/N was buried beside what was Jason’s grave, an F/C flower sprouting from the dirt over the empty casket. The gray headstone reading:

“Here lies Y/N. A sibling, friend, and a loving person. May their memory live on. 20XX-20XX”

Now, for the super short scenario.

Damian stood at the grave, looking down at the gray stone. Tears stung his eyes, rolling down his face, but he didn’t care. The rain hid them anyway. He stood soaked and cold, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t feel it anyway. The cold rain continued to pelt his body, leaving him soaked to the bone. His eyes fall to the F/C flower, its petals still bright. All he could think about was the fact that there was nobody under his feet. All that was there was an empty box covered in a layer of soaked dirt. He couldn’t help the sob that escaped his throat at the thought of never seeing you again. The last he saw of you was you running into the building to save Jason, a brave face filled with worry plastered onto your face. He couldn’t help but blame Jason slightly, but he knew that you went in fully knowing the risks of what you were doing. As he stared at the grave, he couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching him. Something was telling him, he needed to go back to Robin. The people needed Robin. He wiped his eyes, standing up straighter before turning and heading back for the manor, determined to prevent another family member from dying. Little did he know, after he had left the grave, a figure stood over the grave, reading the stone. Their shoulders rose and fell with a laugh before the figure disappeared into the rain. All that remained was a crumpled F/C flower, the petals littering the ground.

[shiorihoshino]

S — Soulmate AU

Cover Me in Your Flowers (Part 1)

"Another flower," you sighed. With a huff and an insistent tug, you managed to rip the sprouting Qingxin from your skin.

Ever since you had come of age, your loved ones, family members especially, rejoice at the fact you had a soulmate. They drone on and on, sighing at the relief that you would not be a hopeless single that cannot catch one partner in your entire life. Each gave you a pat on the back, beaming smiles at your "guaranteed joyful future".

Yet, if you had been able to bring yourself to speak your mind, you would have thrown your hands up in exasperation and offense. Sure, you had yet to find a partner. Yes, you prefer to lock yourself in your room all day, and night, than hang out with... anyone, really. But that does not mean you would not have any luck, if you truly wanted. At least you think so.

Second, while you do enjoy nature and all its amazing enduring beauty, you did not appreciate being suffocated by flowers very second of your tiny life. At the start, the delicate white blossoms warmed your heart, their appearance brightening your day. But with all things, they soon became mundane and an annoyance.

You do not know what your soulmate is doing. No inch of your skin had been untouched by the flower. From the top of your head to the soles of your feet, all had the familiar Qingxin popped out like a Jack in the box. You had pulled your hair out, teeth grinding together, at being a nonstop walking flower shop. You don't even make money from it!

The worst came at night. Often, it would be a restless dreamless sleep before you jolt awake at the pain burning your skin. If not for other's sake, you would have screamed every time. Almost every night, your bed would be transformed into a casket while you slept, if you could even get that far.

Ah, yes, with the flowers came insomnia too. Once your "childhood" had shut its doors to you, firm this time, and you received your first flower, you had been unwillingly forced into giving up your sleep schedule. Not like you had one... But you would still like it!

"Ow..." A hiss escaped your lips as yet another flower sprung out, this time on your shoulder. 

Again a tired frustrated huff and the blossom dropped to the ground, plucked by your merciless hand. Before you could take a breath, yet another poked its head out. You bit your tongue, shoving down a cry, though you did glare. Oh, did you glare and seethe, scowling and scoffing.

"Mighty Archons Above! What in the name of Guizhong are you doing?!"

Of course, the one on the other end of the bond could not hear nor answer the question. All you managed to achieve was blowing off steam in your outburst. Fast in, fast out, you supposed. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say it had been a slow build up before hurling like a snowball down a snowy mountain.

With a defeated sigh, you flopped down onto your flower covered bed, hair and clothes bouncing with the springs. Burying your face into a pillow nearby, you open your mouth to sound out your emotions. You could feel the itch coming, Qingxin blooming again across your skin. In your head, you cursed out your soulmate.

"It's not nighttime yet! Why are there so much?!"

Unwilling to clean your bed and even more unwilling to clean your room of the flowers, you swung yourself up and off the bed. You are leaving and letting the flowers dump themselves to the ground outside.

I'm helping the earth stay full of nutrients, yeah, that's it... You tell yourself, grabbing your notebook and pen.

A step out of your room and down the house led you to the gardens, your family cherry blossom tree smacking you in the face with its abundant shedding petals. Dragging your foot behind one another, you closed the door and made your way to the base of the tree. With an ungrateful drop, you relaxed in your seat under the towering tree, flipping open your notebook with a flick of your wrist.

"That's last month... A bit more... Last Friday.. Ah! Here." With a twirl of your pen, you recorded the areas the blossoms popped out of your skin.

Starting from a decent amount of years back, you decided to jolt down where you had flowers blooming. It had been curiosity at first, you wondered if there was a pattern or repetition. One week turned into two, followed by five, a year, two years... Without realizing before it had been too late, you had made it a habit.

Pausing in your writing, you pluck out another Qingxin from your side. "Always frontal..."

You could have stopped, you no longer had any reason to continue recording. Did you discover a pattern? It did not take long. How could it when you sport flowers around your body like a mummy wearing its bandages? Do you know who your soulmate is? Of course, a reckless fool. Though, with a high chance of being a fighter. You haphazard a guess of your soulmate being, maybe, an adventurer or soldier. Either way, you are certain they fight. They most definitely certainly fight.

With all this information, why still record the same key areas? To know where to hit your soulmate, of course. They do not know the stress of going through important events and being interrupted by flowers bursting from their form like fireworks in the night sky. Countless times had you been given "special exemption", earning narrowed eyes and frowning lips behind fake plastic smiles.

You tapped your bottom lip with the top of your pen, humming in thought. "Ah, but if they're a warrior, they won't even feel my punch..."

You clicked your tongue. You comforted yourself with the fact it would confuse them and hurt them emotionally, perhaps... If they are not also emotionally stunted or just uncaring.

Throwing your head back, you stared at the vast expanse of sapphire blue before you. A breeze and your eyes narrowed, lips set into a pout. Your arms lifted, hands flailing in the air.

"If I see you, I promise you that you will be hurt!" 

BAM!! 

You​ ​shrieked, body lurching into the air with the help of the shaking of the ground below. Followed by every inch of skin on your front to bloom into a flower bed, much to your further dismay as you crash back down to the earth less than graceful as you had hoped. Not helping your situation, dust clogged into your open mouth and down into your lungs. As you spluttered and coughed into your fist, the fallen body shifted, bracing themselves to their feet.

Next time:

Xiao: *falls from the sky* You called? 

You: *screams* Demon! *throws book at his head*

Xiao: *collapses*

You: O Mighty Archons Above... I killed him... 

[witchofhimring]

Loyalty (chapter 1: Loyalty)

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader

Y/n Tyrells Profiles

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, childbirth, emotional turmoil, death, unrequited love?, marital abuse, misogamy (internalized as well as external) Plot twist at the end!

OC's:

Vaeron Velaryon (son of Rhaenyra and Laenor)

Jaecaryon Targaryen (son of Alicent and Viserys)

Synopsis:

As the threat of war looms over Westeros you fight a battle of your own. Aemond Targaryen leaves you after promising to marry. And so the alliance between House Baratheon and Targaryen in sealed with a kiss.

Chapter summary:

You had imagined this in your dreams. The sept decked out in all its splendor. Every member of the court dressed in their best. The weather was perfect. The sun was out as if celebrating this union. Birds could be heard chirping outside. The sweet scent of early spring flowers hung in the air.

And you, dressed in white as the perfect bride.  

Except it was not you.

Instead, you were merely one of the spectators. An inconsequential accessory to HER victory. She had specifically order that you be placed near the altar. Originally you had hoped you could slip out after their nuptials, but Ellyn Baratheon had other plans. 

Lady Leana Velaryon’s casket fell into the sea. You watched as the bubbles emanating from the water below until they disappeared like the lady herself. Soon there was nothing but the waved crashing against the shore. Childbirth claimed this lady's life.

You could not fully decipher the words of Vaemond Velaryon. But what you could tell was his tone. It was deep and strong life a raging sea, barely contained rage. And his thunderous eyes set their gaze on Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen. A hand placed itself on your shoulder, Queen Alicent stood over you clad in her traditional green. Your own gown was black for mourning, trimmed was green. As a member of house Tyrell yourself, therefore allies to the Hightowers, it was important to show your colours. Your grandfather Orwen Tyrell’s wife had been a Dornish woman by the name of Elia Uller. She had died giving birth to your father Owen Tyrell. Owen’s wife Lady Amilia Tarley, your mother, was heir to the Tarley lands, but was passed over in favor of a younger cousin. She had died, falling down the stairs when you were five. You yourself were supposed to be heir to house Tyrell, but were instead passed over for your grandfather's younger brother. 

It had all changed the day your father died. After your grandfather passed it went to your father. But he died and his uncle swept in. You remembered it all. It was lord Erion, your grandfather’s younger brother, who became lord paramount. His daughter-in-law Lady Jenna was quick to confiscate all of your heirlooms and send you off to King's Landing. “We need eyes and ears there. She will be useful to our cause.” She had said. And so, you were placed in the care of Queen Alicent Hightower.

Sobs could be heard and you looked to see two little girls sobbing into Princess Rhaenys’s Targaryen’s expensive black dress.  “Those must be Lady Leana’s daughters.” You thought. Pity stabbed your heart, it must be hard losing a mother so young. You could hardly remember your own, or even if you cried. She had not brought you up, had that been the prerogative of Lady Elinor who was mother to you in all but name.  Princess Rhaeneys rose up as your curtsied to the three Targaryen women. There was something cold and calculating in her look. But you had learned to compose yourself in these situations. Two years you had spent at court and were no stranger to certain houses having a distaste for yours.  “Please accept my condolences.” The slightly taller of the two gave you a small smile.  “These are my granddaughters, Lady Baela and Lady Rhaena Targaryen, trueborn daughters of Lady Laena Velarion.” There was an emphasis on the name “Velaryon”, and as if on instinct her eyes drifted to crowned Princess Rhaenyra, mother to the Velaryon heirs.  “Lady Grandmother.” You turned and saw Prince Vaeron Velaryon striding towards you. Immediately your mood soured. Vaeron was the most disagreeable little boy you had ever met. You doubly resented him for his abrasive and uncaring attitude which he forced on everyone. You had seen Vaeron berate Queen Alicent once for being rude to his mother, despite her being a formidable woman herself. You held his cold gaze before marching right passed him, making sure to "accidently" tread on his toes. As he approached his cousins you internally remarked how alike they looked. Unlike his elder brothers Prince Jaecerys Prince Lucerys and younger brother Prince Joffrey, he had the look of house Velaryon, save his dark hair. You two had never liked each other. His mother and your family were enemies. And unlike his more courteous brothers (although you were determined not to like them anyway), he was not. So away you went. By a canopy near the entrance to the castle was Helena playing with bugs. Her elder brother Aegon was drinking, as per usual. You still couldn’t understand why Queen Alicent didn’t berate her son. Aegon was only slightly less irritating than Vaeron. 

“Y/n.” Aegon slurred. Suppressing the urge to wrinkle your nose at him you curtsied. Then you when under the canopy.  “Princess. You slipped between the fabric and sat down opposite from her. Helena gave a nod of the head but otherwise remained focused on a butterfly. “It’s beautiful.” Helena’s purple eyes bore into you.  “They best beware the creature that changes coats.” And then her attention was drawn back to the butterfly. You had no idea what she meant, but what Helena said hardly made sense. You considered leaving until once again the fabric parted, Aegon, Aemond and Aeron stepped in. Of the two you preferred Aemon. Well, you just about preferred anyone (except Vaeron) to Aegon. Aemond joined a spot next to you.  “That is a monarch butterfly.” Aemond told you. Aegon rolled his eyes.  “Well if all you three are going to talk about is bugs then I shall leave.” Aemond only rolled his eyes.  “You do that brother.” You nodded, Aegon would not be missed.  “He shall not be missed.” You whispered. 

The funeral aftermath was starting to dissipate. The King had hurried to bed and the Queen followed shortly thereafter. The rest of you had stayed up, it being not yet bedtime. You and Aemond found a hidden alcove to hide for the time being. Aemond's patient with celebrations was rather short. Although you desired to stay for longer you followed him. The waves came out of the sea like large hands, snatching stray pebbles and seashells in its retreat. Your eyes were fixed on the horizon, the end of another day. A loud moan came from somewhere a bit away and Aemond leaned forwards. Vhaegar had perched herself on top of a hill a bit away. For which you were grateful as she terrified you.

"She sounds sad." You wondered if dragons missed their owners. Or did that bond dissipate once the rider died? Vhaegar's great head flumped onto the sand sending clouds into the air.

Aemond got down from the perch and peaked out. "Do not go too far, she might see you!" Too terrified to move you stayed back. Thankfully Aemond did not venture further. "What are you two doing here?" Jaeceryon, second eldest son of Queen Alicent and King Viserys came into view. He was slight with messy hair like Aemond, his twin. But there was an impish quality to his face. And he had a knack for getting up to trouble. Although everyone seemed to find it adorable. Well, you had no right to judge as he boy's similarity to Aemond and his cute face always endeared you to him. He, at times, had a habit of following you and Aemond about, like a needy cat.

You dug around in your pockets for cookies which you had snuck. Jaeceryon perked up and looked eagerly at you. He was quick to take them from him with a "thanks". Aemond was not paying attention. His focus remained on Vhaegar.

Aemond woke you up. With bleary eyes you were greeted with a black sky. 

“It is late.” Somewhat grumpily you turned to Aemond. His little hand grasped yours.  “I’m doing it.”  “Doing what? “I’m taking Vhagar tonight.” Now you were wide awake. " But you can’t! Besides, it belongs to Rhaena now.” Aemond ignored your reasoning. After all, should it not the child be the one to inherit their parents possessions.  “It belongs to who takes it.” Still not satisfied, you replied.  “But it was Laena’s, and it wouldn't be very nice of you.” His eyes hardened and suddenly you were frightened by the ferocity in them. “They all laughed at me. They brought me a pig and told me I could ride it! They all think they’re so much better than me because they have dragons. Even Veron who doesn't have one! Even those bastards-” You shushed him.  “You can not say that! The King will be-” He cut you off.  “Not if you don’t tell anyone. Those bastards have no right to anything and yet they got dragons before I! Me! Well I’ll show them.” You remembered the incident. Even though you weren’t there. As you sat with the Queen and Helena, Aemond was brought in, covered in soot. He had been in the dragon pit and could have died. More than once you comforted him as he cried. It was terribly unfair, how he had no dragon. Normally as the King's son he would have a dragon by now. Only true Targaryens should claim a mount and yet his two Strong nephews had. Of all Rhaenyra’s children Vaeron was the only possible legitimate (although there was still some doubt) claimant. Spitefully you wished he had his brothers features.  “So will you come with me?” Gathering your strength, you decided. 

There was a surprising lack of guards out that night. Most were probably fast asleep, thinking no one would dare go outside. Little did they know two little children had slipped by in the shadows. It was with a sigh of relief that you reached the tunnel. No longer did either of you have to hide. You trudged through the sand.     “Look!” You could see her now. A great big dragon stretched out of the sand. She was impossibly large, bigger than you had imagined. You had only seen her from a distance earlier but up close she was massive.  “Stay here.” Aemond ordered.  “But I want to go with you.” Fear had returned. “I am a Targaryen, she won't hurt me.” He said with all the confidence of his house. A confidence you had none of. So with bated breath you watched as he walked towards the beast. 

It did not take long. As you crouched behind the sandhill Aemond went right up to the dragon. He called out in the tongue of Valyria. With an earth shaking growl Vhagar growled and opened her mouth. To your horror you saw fire building up behind those great jaws. You wanted to scream, but it wouldn’t leave your mouth. He was for sure going to die, burned alive by this great monster. 

Only it didn’t happen. The dragon shut her jaw and gave a lower, deeper crooning noise. Aemond climbed up the saddle. Your hands nervously twisted in themselves, nearly tearing apart your nightgown. Aemond gave an order. Then she rose. You fell over as sand was thrown about. By the time you got up Aemond was already beyond your reach. The only thing you could hear was him screaming.   You had run back to the castle crying. This was all your fault you should have stopped him! For sure he was dead now, thrown off and into the sea below. Aemond had never been taught to swim and he would have no chance. The tunnel was just up ahead. As you reached the entrance a shadow loomed behind. You tripped as Vhagar landed. Bracing yourself to her fire, you were shocked when Aemond descended and landed.  

Wish a shreik you launched yourself into his arms.  “By the Seven I thought you had died!” You sobbed into his coat, your tears staining the fabric.  “I did it!” Aemond turned and took you by the hand.  “You need not worry, Vhagar is mine now!” Hesitantly you allowed Aemond to place you right in front of her. Large, fiery amer eyes meet yours. Hot breath hit you, it caused your skin to heat up. 

Thats when you heard voices, at least three people were coming your way. Anxiety filled you when Rhaena’s voice drifted over the rest. She would be furious! Aemond had no intention of hiding. Before you could even stop him he strided right into the light.  “Me.” It was even worse than you had feared. Five, Vaeron, Jacaerys, Lucerys, Baela and Rhaena all stood in front, five to two. Your eyes drifted to something long, shinny and sharp in Lucery’s hand. 

He had a knife. 

It all happened so fast. One moment Aemond was trading insults when suddenly Baela raced up and hit him. He shoved her and suddenly everyone dogpilled on him. You tried to pry them off. Jaecerys seemed less willing to hit but Lucerys viciously sunk his teeth into your right arm. You shrieked as blood was drawn. Time seemed to slow down when Lucerys drew the knife. You had no time to warn Aemond as Lucery’s speed towards him. In a flash it was over. Blood splattered the sand. Your shrieked and ran to his side. 

Aemond was doubled over. Youn tried to turn him over but Aemond let out a goran, like a wounded animal. It was worse than screaming. The Kingsguard had been alerted. A knight shoved you aside and turned Aemond over.  “Gods be good.”  “Ser, what's happened!” He said nothing. 

You thought they might at least wait till Aemond got better, but King Visery’s had called a meeting. You had stayed by Aemond’s side. His ghost white fingers clung to your small hand. It hurt but you kept quiet. Everyone had gathered in the great hall. Your family on one side, theirs on the other. The only two missing were Rhaeneyra and Daemon. “Where are they.” Alicent hissed under her breath. She ran a hand through her usually immaculately done hair. King Visery’s sat on the Driftwood, a spectator in all of this. It surprised you that the King did not comfort his son. Though you supposed Kings must be strong in public. When Rhaeynera entered she rushed to her sons.  “Luke! Show me.” Rhaeynera examined her sons blood by face. Jaecerys and Veron closed in around their brother.  “Who did this?!”  “They attacked me!” Aemond’s shout echoed across the room and broke the silence. Suddenly everyone but you was shouting.  “He stole Rhaena’s dragon!” Vaeron bellowed. It was at this point King Visery’s stood up. With what looked like a great effort he shouted over all their heads, restoring order. “Silence!” 

A hush fell over everyone, awaiting the Kings judgment. The King turned to his eldest daughter. Rhaeneyra finally stood up and walked towards the King. Vaeron trailed behind her like a puppy.  “Because that's all he is. A stupid boy who takes orders from others.” You thought.  “Aemond. I will have the truth of what happened. Now.” The King rounded on his second youngest. “What else is there to hear your son has been maimed. Hers sons are responsible.” Her voice was not in its usual composure. It was the type which bordered on a storm of rage. You grasped her hand to keep it from shaking. "It was a regrettable accident." Regrettable accident? "The Prince Lucerys brought a blade, he meant to kill my son!" Your grip on Aemond's hand tightened. Was that really true? What if the boy was so jealous of Aemond's good fortune that he got Vhaegar. "It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves. Vile insults were levied against them" This seemed to have the Kings attention in a way Aemond's missing eye did not. "What insults?" "The legitimacy of my sons birth was put loudly to question." "What?" "He called us bastards." Jaecerys's voice was small, but it carried. "My sons are in line to inherit the Iron Throne, Your Grace. This is the highest treason. Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he learned such slanders.

Horrified, you grasped onto Aemond. Even a child of your age understood the meaning of "asharply questioned". It was not fair! It was her sons who had bullied him all those years and now he was going to be tortured. You started to silently weep, which was either ignored or unnoticed by everyone else. Everything else was blocked out.

Not until the King stormed towards Aemond. To your alarm the King turned on his son and said with such rage; “Where did you hear this lie, boy?” There was such disgust, such rage on Aemond’s face. For the first time you believed he hated his father. Never before had you seen the two speak to each other in any friendly terms. After King Visery’s accosted his son he turned on the other. To your surprise when Visery’s asked who told Aemond the “lie”, Aemond pointed right at Aegon. For a moment Aegon looked like me might deny, but something changed in his face.  “Me.”  “And you, boy. Where did you hear such calumnies? Aegon!”  But it was so obvious. Those boys with their pale skin, brown hair and soft features that resemble Rhaeneyra were not Laenor’s.  “We know father. Everyone knows. Just look at them.” That statement carried all the finality of a fallen brick.  “Shut up!” It was Vaeron, the only son of Rhaenyra to possibly carry Velarion blood.  “Hush!” Rhaenyra bent down and hugged her son close. You noticed that of all her sons Vaeron was the only one in front of his mother.  “This interminable infighting must cease! All of you! We are a family.” The last words cracked. The King tattered for a moment, breath ragged.  “Now make your apologies and show your good will to one another. Your father, your Grandsire, your King demands it!” 

Queen Alicent let go of your hand. 

“That is insufficient. Aemond has been damaged permanently, My King. Good will cannot make him whole.”  “I know. Alicent.” And for the first time you saw something akin to softness cross the Kinga face.     “But I cannot restore his eye.”  “Because it’s been taken.” The softness disappeared.   “What would you have me do?”  “There's is a dept to be payed.” Her words shook and though you could not see see her face you knew Queen Alicent was seconds from crying.  “I shall have one of her sons eyes in return.” The statement shocked all. Vaeron made to dash at her but Rhaenyra's hand was fast on his shoulder.  “My dear wife-”  “He is your son, Viserys! Your blood!” Now she was crying and you wanted to hold her. But the scene had transfixed you.  “Do not allow your temper to guide your judgment.” He walked away, but Alicent was not done.  “If the King will not seek justice then the Queen will. Sir Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velarion.” You could hear Rhaenyra’s boys protest, Rhaenyra seized Vaeron and pulled him behind her.  “He can chose which eye to keep a privilege he did not grant my son.”  “You will do no such thing.”Rhaeneyra’s voice was low, deadly as her dragon.  “Stay your hand. “No you are sworn to me!” Never had you seen Queen Alicent overrule any of her husbands decisions. 

Ser Criston obeyed Queen Alicent, he had always been more preferential to her. But he was stopped. It seemed the King would have his way as he dismissed everyone.

But you could hear her breath and a sixth scent that you felt in the air told you Queen Alicent had finally broke. She leapt forth  and made for Rhaenyra, dagger in hand. You could hear their shrieks above the crowd. Out of instinct you covered Aemond. Although it was hard to discern voice you caught QueenAlicents.

“I! What have I done except what was expected of me! Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law. While you flout and do all that you please!” You felt sick. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Suddenly Queen Alicent brought down the knife. Princess Rhaenerya staggered back, but did not cry out in pain. You had to admire her for that. You were suddenly pushed off. Aemond, despite his injuries, stood up. He walked a few unsteady steps towards Queen Alicent.  “Do not mourn me mother. It was a fair exchange. I might have lost an eye but I gained a dragon.” 

That night you could not sleep, even after Queen Alicent sent you to bed. So along the halls you stalked. Right now you felt numb, like this was some fever dream. But everything felt too real. The stones beneath your feet, cold air coming through the window and crashing of the sea distantly. You decided to walk upstairs, to get some fresh air. The staircase was only a few feet away. You were almost there when you heard voices. In a panic you dashed behind a tapestry. Footsteps hit the landing and you peaked out ever so slightly.  “What does he mean by bastard?” It was Rhaena. It seemed Laena’s twins were not yet asleep. “It means they are illegitimate.” Baela replied.  “Is it true?” Rhaena’s voice lowered itself.  “No. Don’t say that.” Baela said harshly”.  “But if they aren’t then wouldn’t Driftwood go to us?”  “No. Vaemond goes first. And anyway, there's a chance Vaeron is." “But why would Vaemond go before us? Corlis is our grandfather, not his.” With that final word the girls disappeared. 

Meanwhile you let out a sigh of relief. Once they had disappeared you went on your way. Luckily there was no one in the staircase. It was with great relief you pushed the wooden door open. The air was so fresh here. At Kingslanding the air was hardly tolerable. Maybe it would be worth staying here just for that. You placed your elbows on the stone and overlooked the endless sea. It was black against the night. If it weren’t for what happened tonight it might even be beautiful. 

“You there!” You leapt as Vaeron  stormed around the corner. He was wroth, hands in tight firsts. Frightened, you stepped back.  “Go away!” He ordered.  “I have every right to be here.” Your voice was not as strong as his. Vaeron walked right up to you. Even though he was shorter than you he was still imposing.  “I am the Prince and future lord of Driftmark.” How dare he. After all that he still dared approach you. You could safely say you hated Vaeron Velaryon right now. "I am glad he has a dragon how. What's your dragon again, that sickly little thing that refuses to grow?" You sneered. “ I’m glad Lucery’s took his eyes for that insult!” He meet you with matched vitriol. Now face to face with you. “ Your all cowards to fight five on two! And he shouldn’t have brought the knife!”  “Well mutilation is the only way to deal with liars.” He finished smugly. You were almost too angry to speak. Key word being almost.  “They are bastards, and you are stupid not to beleive it.” Vaeron’s hand swung towards you in rage. But out of instinct you caught it. The sting hardly hurt. You felt victorious. For once you had the upper hand.   “Its true, isn’t it. And if they are it means-” You were about to say Aegon. But then it occurred to you that wasn’t entierly true. It perhaps belonged to the angry boy in front of you. Then both of you could hear footsteps and voices. Anger was gone replaced by fear. If either of you were caught there would be punishment. So with a temporary unspoken truth the pair of you darted away, back to your beds.

The parting was of ill feeling. Rhaenyra had elected to stay behind, not wanting to deal with the Greens. You weren’t sad about this. You hated all of them, Lucerys most of all. Only yesterday you had witnessed the boy playing with his elder brothers, no sign of guilt. You hoped one day he would lose an eye too. You followed Helena onto the ship. Looking back you saw Vaeron looking out from above. You glaired at him, and with that you left.  “Where is Aemond?” Queen Alicent was looking over the tempestuous water.  “Inside.” Her voice came out of chapped lips. It held a voice of someone so tired yet still forced to carry an impossibly heavy burned. You wanted to say something to her, but your courage failed you. For what could you possibly say to comfort a bereft mother?  Aemond lay on a bed under deck. A maester was shuffling in a cabinet. You had to suppress a gag. In this small got cabin you smelt congealed blood. Ameond was letting out noises every time the boat rocked. The maester saw you, looked as though he might send you away, and then went back to shuffling through bottles. You walked over to Aemond and sat down beside his bed. There was a long bloody bandage on the side of his face. 

“Have his stitches split open? You brushed the hair out of his face.  “The ones at the end. I had to reply them. Please don’t touch less the bindings bursts.” You felt queasy on the word “burst”.  “Y/n.” It came out as a whine, like a puppy you once had. Three years ago had been given you a dear golden puppy with fluffy fur. It had been the light of your life for seven weeks until it cut itself on a sharp object. You remembered its high pitched whines before it died. Otto had been kind enough to gift you another, as the puppy, who’s name had been Fluffles, had died of no fault of your own. And as much as you loved Grandina, your current dog, it still haunted you, those last rattling breath, agony in every note. Aemond had fallen sleep by now, his hand still in yours. The maester still had his eyes on the medicine. So you placed a secret kiss on his head and swore you loyalty was to him.  

7 years later….. 

Intimacy had to be kept in the greatest secrecy, but you would take what you could get. Even if it was not much, hand holding still meant everything. There was a small alcove by the water the two of you visited. Through one of the secret passageways and down a hidden flight of stains, though one had to be careful not to fall. The water here was surprisingly clean and smelt of sea. Here the two of you could just be yourselves, uncaring of life's woes. You were now aged eighteen and nineteen. And much had changed. 

Aemond was no longer the runt of the litter, now taller than any of his siblings. His white hair was straight and silky. Since losing his eyes something had changed within him. Sparring and studying took up his time, eager to prove himself a worthy rider of Vhagar and perfect son. Of all her sons Queen Alicent cherished him the most.  You were more or less the same as a person, loyal to a fault. Though your body had changed making you a beautiful woman. But there was more going on than personal changes going on. No longer could youth shield you from the cruelty of the world. As King Viserys ailed, relying more and more on others to run his kingdom for him, fraction appeared in the court. There were those that supported the ever allusive Princess Rhaenyra and those who championed the claim around Prince Aegon. Although most who knew the Prince were aware that it would be his mother and grandfather who would reign in that case.

You giggled as cold water lapped at your toes.  “Careful, Aemond chastised, holding onto your hand. Aemond had since learned to swim, though you not so much. With a sigh you leaned onto his shoulder, he leaning into you. The sun cast golden rays across the sky, the water rippling softly.  But although the scenery was serene, you thoughts were not. Only a few days previously you received a letter from Jenna Tyrell that you were due to be married soon. You wondered who it was. She had not married you to her own son Gerald Tyrell despite some thinking it wise. "The claim we have on Highgarden does not depend on the Lady Y/n, who is a woman." When hearing those words through the grapevine your ears had burned. Although Lady Jenna had never outright antagonized you comments of this nature were not uncommon. Instead her son had married a girl from house Swan, Florice Swan. It had been a bitter pill for you to swallow. Knowing that your mothers jewels would not go to you but some stranger. You had met Gerald Tyrell and thought him handsome. For a brief time you had imagined yourself in love with him. But that had been ripped away when he married. Now at nineteen you reckoned it was better this way, as someone else had your heart.

You were fifteen when your cousin married Lady Florice. Although sad, it was not as enduring as the love that had begun to blossom for another. It all started on cold rainy day when you were huddled on an armchair near the fire. You shut your eyes and tried to block out the noise. A soft knock sounded at the door. In a hurry you turned and fell off your chair. You got up just in time to see Aemond come in. Another burst of thunder echoed amongst the heavens and you nearly fell over in your terror. Aemond took your cold hand lead you to the chair. You curled up, wrapping the blanket around you. Aemond perched himself on the chair arm. "Is the storm scaring you." "Yes." "Then let me stay the night with you." At that moment you had fallen in love. Never before had anyone shown you such loyalty before. Your parents were but ghosts in your memory, and although Queen Alicent had cared for her ward none made you feel as Aemond did. As you leaned against him you felt loved, safe.

Over the years you love had endured, not dampened by the years. As ever you leaned on him as a support. And you were sure he felt the same. Aemond rarely let his mask slip. The one he wore as a guard ever since the taking of his eye. "My Lady." Lady Elinor Tarley descended the stairs. With a groan you got up. Of course Elinor would seek you out. Aemond gently pried you off him and helped you up. The Princess Rhaenyra and her children would be coming today. It was something you dreaded as it was the boy Lucerys so called Velarion who stole Aemonds eye. Well, this time the boy, or rather her family, are who would be on trial today. Vaemond Velarion had come to contest the boys claim to the Driftwood throne. You and Aemond parted ways, despite your desire to stay with him. Queen Alicent insisted you change into a green dress with an embroidered Star of the Seven on the bodice. So you changed in your room. “You should work on getting to know the other lords, my lady.” Lady Elinor Tarley said. Normally a lady would not chastise her mistress, whether right or wrong. But Lady Elinor was fifteen years your senior, so you respected her opinion. You dressed in the typical green and gold. The cut was in a same form as Queen Alicent’s, a high neck with long sleeves. You liked the fabric trailing behind like a cape, as regal as a Queen.   

You stood beside Helaena Targaryen as the trial for Lucerys Velarion's "birthright" was being debated below. You wondered what would happen if Princess Rhaenyra lost the case. Well, surely the question of her boys clear illegitimacy would be put to question. Maybe there wouldn't be a war. Although the idea of harm coming to the younger children, you cared not for the elder Strong boys. It was odd seeing all of them once more after so long. Jacaerys had a stocky build and had a slight slope in his posture, although he was not entirely unattractive. You could hardly bare to look and Lucerys. Vaeron, although the youngest of the boys present, was taller than Lucerys. He still carried that same haughty look from all those years ago. Something never change.

Your eyes wandered to Rhaenys, the Queen Who Never Was. What must it be like for her, to be so close to the throne yet lose it? There was some inkling as to what that might be like. Thoughts lingered to Highgarden which had been your home all those years ago. How much of it had changed? How much of it was the same? Perhaps one day you would return home. But it would not truly be yours. Perhaps that was how Rhaenys Targaryen felt each time she set foot in the Red Keep.

The great double doors opened and a great shadow cast itself. Viserys Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, stood on its threshold. And although withered by illness there was something striking about him. Never would the words "brave" have been associated with King Viserys, the same man who stood aside when his own son lost an eye. Yet now he shined so magnificently. And at that point in time you did not know why.

"I must admit my confusion. I can not understand why petitions are being heart over a settled succession. The only one present who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys's wishes is the Princess Rhaenys. "Indeed your Grace." All eyes went to the Princess. This was unexpected and anxiety took over. You had to suppress the urge to grasp Aemond. If Princess Rhaenyra won this would be another armed force behind her banner when was calls. The Velarion's had generations of battle commanders and sailors within their ranks. Not to mention their dragons. Would the Princess see sense? There was nothing in it for her after all. Why let bastards sit the Driftwood throne when she had two granddaughters. Rhaenys walked in front of the King. She seemed to pause and you prayed. "It was every my husbands will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son, Lucerys Velaryon." Horrified, you did grasp Aemond, although discreetly. This felt like the final nail in the coffin. With the blood of Valyria behined her Rhaenyra Targaryen just might stand a chance.

And in the next second Vaemond Velaryon's outcry frightened you. He looked ready to kill. His voice steadily became less controlled. As he turned on his King with a fury that inspired disbelief in you. Never before had you seen anyone speak to the King like this. Vaemond Velaryon turned to Lucerys, paused. You could not see his face, but you just knew something was about to happen. And then he said the words that no one had ever dared utter in the Kings presence. "Her children......are Bastards!"

With great nauseum you were guided to a chair by the fireplace. Aemond poured you some strong drink and gratefully you accepted it. Images of Vaemond Targaryens corps splattered against the ground clouded the mind. They had always told you stories of the Rouge Prince and his many cruelties. How he rejected and murdered his first wife, mutilated the citizens of Fleebottom, mocked the death of late Queen Aemma Targaryen and conspired with the Princess Rhaenyra. Now you witnessed his cruelty first-hand, killing his second late wives uncle. And all knew how the Gods abhorred such men. Had the Prince truly washed himself of his wives kin that they mattered no more?

Otto Hightower stormed in. A moment later Queen Alicent and Ser Criston Cole followed. Prince Aegon Targaryen and Helaena were the last to arrive. Of course Aeron was nowhere to be seen, the wasterell. As a matter of fact, now that you think on it, Jaeceryon did not even bother attending the trial. "And so Rhaenyra escapes yet again." Otto Hightower snarled.

King Viserys was dead. Died in his sleep at the hour of the wolf. The morning awoke like a great slow beast. Sluggishly the sun peaked over the horizon, the shadows fighting to stay. The servants slinked in the shadows, flitting about like phantoms. A deep sigh seemed to emanate from the bowels of the Red Keep. A sigh before the inevitable storm. It was eerily silent when you woke. A sense of unease seeped its way into your body. Something was seriously wrong.

Elinor came in. Although she looked fine there was something off about her demeanor. Likely she felt the same unease you did. Her eyes meet yours and Elinor immediately understood. "You sense it too." She suddenly dashed towards you. In alarm you bounded to your feet. Elinor grabbed a cloak from the chair and threw it over you. "What has happened?!" She just grabbed your hand and lead you over to a tapestry. Throwing it aside, Elinor pushed the stone wall and a door opened. You were shoved through with her coming in after. Darkness encased you. Frightened, you made to turn back. "Silence!" Stunned, you simply allowed her to lead you down. The only guide you had was Elinor's leading hand and your hand on the cold wall.

It felt like forever until you reached the end. But even before you had reached the end you realized where she was taking you. Many times you and crept through this passage to Aemond's room. The door opened and a second later Aemond had seized your hand, pulling you through. "The King is dead." Although not surprised terror swept through you. The writing had been on the wall since the birth of Aegon. This was what every political move and been for. To place Aegon on the throne.

The thunder seemed to break the sky above, flashes of lightning revealed the tumultuous grey clouds above. In trepidation you sat by the window. Any moment you excepted to witness a dragon descend from the sky, whether friend or foe. Vhagar, Gods willing. Or if the Gods were cruel it might be Caraxes or Meleys, who only a few days ago had killed hundreds at the Citadel. Your fingers touched the scar on your right forearm. You could still taste the dust and hear the cries of the dying. The memory made the scar throb. Unbidden tears slid down your face. What if Aemond was next? Princess Rhaenyra had likely already heard of Aegon's coronation and was ready (as she could be) for war. What if he came into conflict with Prince Daemon Targaryen? While Aemond might have the stronger dragon the expertise of the rider mattered. And Prince Daemon had fought wars.

A deep rumbling later and with a relief so prominent you almost passed you, Aemond descended from the sky. Forgetting to put on anything to protect yourself you ran out. By the time you had arrived at the dragonpit you were soaked. You ran towards the cave, ignoring the look the dragontamers gave you.

The figure of Aemond was bowed over, black cloak flapping about like a war banner. His silver hair was plastered to his ghostly pale face. Stopping, you realized something was horribly wrong. Every step seemed to be taken with enormous effort. His body shook with tremors that you suspected was not from the cold. Aemond fell into your arms. His breathing felt heavy, each beat reverberating through your body. His face found its way into the crook of your neck. While Aemond was not above shows of affection behind closed doors, never had he done this in front of others. You were scared for him. Aemond seemed to be on the edge of a breakdown. His weight had collapsed itself on top of you. "I killed him."

It was only later, after Aemond had visited his mother (a meeting you were not privy to) and he sloped to bed did you figure out who he had killed. He had bid you no goodnight. You wanted to call out to him as Aemond's form retreated into the shadows. But the Queen placed a hand on your shoulder. Turning around, alarmed, you realized there were tears in her eyes. The nailbeds of her fingers looked red and swollen. "Y/n I think you might need to sit down." Her voice was chocked. Anxiously you followed her inside. Otto Hightower and rose to his feet, mouth in a thin brittle line. You shrunk slightly, Otto Hightower had always terrified you to some degree. Even when his rage, he clearly was angry now, was not directed at you, you still tip toed on egg shells. Thank the Gods he chose that moment to leave. The only other person left over was Ser Criston Cole, have hidden in the shadows. You waited until the Queen had taken a seat before taking yours. The fire highlighted the shine in her eyes, and perhaps it was just you but there was something unsteady about it. Like a bead on the tip of a knife, ready to fall at any moment.

"Aemond has killed Lucerys." A gasp came out as you comprehended the full horror or what you had just been told. The Gods hated none more so than those who slew their kin. And now that Aemond had killed Lucerys- "What did Lucerys do?" Queen Alicent swallowed and closed her eyes. "Lucerys ran from Aemond and flew on his dragon. Aemond came after him and Vhagar ate him." "But what did Lucerys do?" You ignored the bile in your throat at the idea of Lucerys being chewed up by Vhagar. The discust you felt was swallowed by your desire to push it down to a deep dark part of you were there was much shame. "Nothing. After the deal with Lord Baratheon Lucerys made to leave but my son went after him. They took to their dragons and Aemond killed him." Finally the tears breached and tears came down her pale cheeks. In another situation you might have been surprised by her tears. Never before had you ever seen Queen Alicent Hightower cry.

Instead your worries all went to Aemond. Standing up, you silently went to the door. Queen Alicent and Ser Criston Cole allowed you to leave, their minds too burdened with the upcoming war. The halls were completely silent. Even the torches had gone out. The only light were the flashes of lightning outside illuminating the way. Rain pounded the windows deafeningly. The weather itself seemed to be sounding the drums of war. Imagination made you think that the Gods were calling out in all their rage and grief for what was to come. There were no guards by Aemonds door. You knock on the door. No response. So you push on the handle but realize the door was locked. You went to bed, but got no sleep.

No sun peaked through the clouds that morning. Instead a dull grey spilled over its surface. Your mood was as a subdued as the atmosphere outside. Everything seemed to be in morning for the death of Lucerys. You threw a blue cloak over your body. Maybe Aemond was in a better mood today. Although you weren't sure. While Aemond rightfully carried hate for Lucerys you doubted he wanted the boy dead. You tried to comfort yourself with the notion that it was war. And Lucerys might have died anyway. It Rhaenyra's sons were allowed to live- Suddenly feeling disgusted, you wrapped the robe around yourself. You felt gross, although your mind refused to delve any deeper. Aemond's room was only a floor above you. Today you opted to take the secret passage given your attire. You gave the typical knock that you always gave. He did not answer. Carefully you opened the door. Aemond sat on his bed, hunched over. You could not see his face with silver hair obscuring him. You knelt in front of him and brushed the hair aside. "Aemond?" Touching his cheek you felt his ice cold skin beneath the fingertips. He looked as tired as you felt, his skin now carrying a sick grey hue to it.

Aemond leaned back. When you tried to touch him again Aemond took both your hands, not ungently, and stood up. You stood up along with him. Unlike last night he was not shaking. Something cold had settled into him, or so it seemed, from the rigidity in which he held himself. You extracted your hands from his. It was Aemond, but not Aemond. His remaining eye held a wild fire within it. And if you had stepped a few feet back and disregarded the eye you would think he was dead. His hair hung about him like a corpse. His pallid skin look stretched over his bones. An aura of fear and anger had settled over him like a storm cloud. "I know what happened with Lucerys." Aemond looked at you and you swore for a moment there were tears in his eyes. And then they were gone. Perhaps a trick of the light. Even as a child Aemond never cried. At least in front of you. Queen Alicent may know a different story. "Please leave." The words breezed passed his pale chapped lips. "But Aemond-" "Leave!" Your whole body seized. Hands clasped themselves to your chest. "Aemond, please!" You once made walked towards him, unwilling to leave his side. But Aemond gave you such a look of ferocity that you stopped, turned, and as if he was chasing you, fled.

The Next day you found out he was betrothed to Ellyn Baratheon.

Ages:

Y/n: 19

Aemond: 19

Vaeron: 17

Jaeceryon: 19

Note:

And thus this behemoth of a chapter is concluded.

I've had this idea in my head for a while and have decided to put it to paper (or rather my computer). I decided on Ellyn as my Baratheon sister of choice because she is the least known. Also because her personality is not as well known I had more leeway in terms of her characterization.

I decided to end the chapter here because it was getting long and I want the next chapter to be exciting! I think the next one is going to bring out a lot of emotions in y'all. Vaeron is the only trueborn son of Rhaenyra and Laenor, so this changes things. Vaeron Velarion, Owen Tyrell, Elia Uller, Orwen Tyrell, Amelia Tarley and Jaeceryon Targaryen are all OC’S of mine.

As you may notice I aged up Lucerys and Vaeron. While Lucerys and Vaenor are not twins they are ten months apart hence why both of them are seventeen.

If you want to join the taglist please let me known!

@daenerysqueenofhearts

@le-petit-lulu

@aemondswifeisme

[antiromanticbaby]

Heavenless - Lucifer

Angel!Lucifer x Fem! Angel! Reader

✧ This will probably never happen but it’s alright to daydream, isn’t it? 

Genre: Angst  Summary: Lucifer always poked his head into places that he shouldn’t have. Well, father has found a good source of entertainment for him. He shall now have another half, just for him.

“Why have you called upon me, father?” The angel asked, looking up to the blinding light and the covers that separated him from the entity up those stairs. He knew there was a throne and someone, or something was sitting on top of it, but due to safety protocols, no one had the right to see this person. To check their appearance and actually meet them face  to face. Of course, the entity, known as ‘father’ was too good to step down to his angels’ level. 

As for his voice? Everyone described it in their own way. But at the end of all their speeches, there was only one result. ‘Sweet, comforting, kind, soft.’ 

“I have made a decision regarding you.” The entity said. And like always, Lucifer found comfort in the voice. He waited patiently for father to continue. “I wish to test something with angels. Come closer, Lucifer.” 

And he did. The raven haired angel stepped closer from his place and that was when he noticed a human sized glass casket. A coffin made of glass, if he were to describe it. Right on the inside, laid a beautiful woman. With (h/l) (h/c) hair that looked very soft and fluffy, (lip shape) lips put into a warm smile and eyes that were still close. Oh how curious he was to check what color were those eyes of yours. 

“Open the casket, Lucifer.” 

Lucifer put his hand on the glass, slowly opening the container. He was afraid as if he could easily break the doll on the inside. Slowly but gently, he ran his hand through your soft (h/c) locks. “Who is this, father?” 

“An experiment, my Morningstar. And I have found you to be the best candidate for this experiment of mine.” Father said, making Lucifer frown. The entity then continued. “As gentle as the summer breeze, as lovely as spring blooms and as deep and calming as the ocean. She will give you nothing but innocent love, and I trust you to take good care of her.”

The female angel’s eyes slowly opened, her dazzling (e/c) eyes making contact with Lucifer's crimson ones. Father continued. “Lucifer, greet your other half, (y/n).”

There was no way out of this now.

Many days have passed. Lucifer wouldn’t lie, he had found you quite bothering. Staying on his side no matter where he went and questioning him over the smallest of things. But in a way, he found it quite adorable. 

“Lucifer, what are these herbs used for?”

“Hey Lucifer, why do we look after humans?”

“Lucifer, are there any other deities aside from us and the humans?”

And bit by bit, your curiosity was beginning to shape into you sharing your thoughts and opinions. Something Lucier greatly appreciated. 

“Why don’t we use these other flowers instead? They might be rarer, but certainly better.”

“Humans can make independent choices, don’t you agree? Lilith also agrees, she said it’s quite offensive to look after them like babies.”

“How was your trip to Devildom? Did you meet any interesting demons?” 

Lucifer was also beginning to accept you as his other half. He would always greet you with smiles, soft kisses on hand and forehead, sometimes on the tip of your nose. He would randomly run his hand through your hair as you two stood next to each other and hold you close whenever in public. 

“It was… Nice.” He said, patting your head gently. The male angel still treated you like a fragile doll, but with even more love. “I need to speak about it with father, don’t wait on me.”

And just like that, many other days passed. You knew, you knew he was hiding something, he was doing something behind your back. But you never questioned it, you knew he didn’t like it when you got too pushy. 

But a part of you hoped you had asked. 

“Simeon, let me go!” You screamed, thrashing wildly in the said angel’s grip. You screamed, kicked, cried, but no avail. All you received was him shushing you, telling you to go and hide. “Simeon… Simeon I need to go to him! I must stay on his side, please! Let go!” 

“Hush (y/n)” He whispered bitterly, a lump in his own throat. “It won’t help him, trust me. You shouldn’t see this anymore, you-”

You did the unthinkable. You bit him, flapping your angelic wings in his face before running off. Behind your back, Lucifer was planning a war, a riot against father. And if you knew, you would’ve helped. Did he believe you would stop him? Your other half? 

But again, you were late. And the last you saw him was him falling, his wings ripped out and the rest turning a dark, sinful shade. And even then, the guards grabbed you. Male angels always had the tendency to find themselves upper than you, except for Lucifer and the brothers. 

“Please… Let me go with him…”

Check it out! [cursed records] [sweet dreams] [roses]

Should I make a pt 2?...

[kuririhimitsukichi]

Keroro Movie 4 Deleted Scene: Shion's Prologue

Back in spring 2009, the Keroro movie was about to release in theaters, which left the fandom outside of Japan, myself included, to wait for the DVD release before we could see it. However, at this point I had been learning Japanese for a good few years and decided to import the book through a specialty shop I sometimes went to so I could try reading it.

However, when the DVDs finally released and I got to see the movie itself, I noticed two scenes I had read in the book were missing, one of which was particularly surprising since I had seen fully animated footage from it in the previews that were edited into the opening credits.

I don't remember if there were other deleted scenes, perhaps I'll do a full translation of the book someday (yes, it's the story of the movie, but there's some nice flourishes), I'm not sure where my copy is, but the preview for the e-book version includes both scenes.

This scene in particular takes on an interesting tone when you consider that Shion means "Aster"; both that her nickname is flower related (possibly because of her friendship with Momoka), and that this specific flower signifies regret at how things turned out, but also means grace & wisdom.

For now enjoy the first of the two deleted scenes below the cut, this one was right at the very beginning of the film:

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

One year ago. On the outskirts of Paris.

Beneath the lead coloured, overcast sky, church bells chimed and echoed sadly. The time for partings had come.

It was a lavish funeral for the Dracoon family, a noble and ancient, ancient European bloodline. The gathered crowd of attendees spoke in hushed tones about the remaining family.

Ultimately, they were idly gossiping.

Things like "The Dracoon family fortune will go to her, can she manage it?" or "What can she do as just one person?" or "Even though she lost her parents, she doesn't shed a single tear, such a cold girl" Amongst this group, there wasn't a single person you could let your guard down in front of.

The remaining family....

Standing before her parents' gravestones was a young girl, only about 10 years of age. She had been left alone as her parents journeyed to heaven. Lead by the hand of her brawny butler, the girl placed flowers on her mother and father's caskets. The girl kept her lips pressed in a firm line as she looked forward.

While she felt like a gaping hole was opening in her heart, she kept up a brave front, despite seeming as if she could crumble at any moment.

"Lady Felicitashion" Her butler, having read her feelings, leaned in and whispered "It is acceptable to cry during sad times".

"No Pierre. I must not cry, for I am the head of the Dracoon family"

Even if she felt alone, she would not cry. No matter how lonely she was. Even if she she felt unbearably lonely. Even if because of that she became unable to smile.

This loneliness was....

The loneliness of being completely isolated, because nobody could understand how you felt. If she could forget it all, how nice it would be....

And so, our tale begins with the always unchanging everyday life in the Hinata household.

[orii-blogs-stuff]

Like everything else, Death looked very pretty on Georgine.

Detlinde watched the procession with a frown, indeed, her mother was dead, yet she felt nothing for her. No sobbing daintily into her handkerchief like her elder sister Alstred. Not a single tear rolled down her cheek unlike her elder brother Wolfram, she was simply stoic, her translucent veil covering her yawn of boredom. An on-looker paying close attention to Detlinde’s facial expressions may have mistaken her as an Archduke Candidate not of Georgine’s blood, but Detlinde would correct them. 

Despite her mother never paying attention to her and always spent every moment she could relax, talking to Wolfram or on the rare occasions, Alstred, despite Detlinde focusing her attention to better herself at the harspeil, learning manners, painting, singing, sewing, designing her own dresses and hair styles to start as trends she may pass down her knowledge to her… Less fortunate peers … At the Royal Academy when she reaches the age of ten.. Her mother still stood at her Baptism ceremony so Georgine must be her mother. 

However, her mother would call her harspiel performance at her Baptism mediocre , her manners inferior to her mother’s own when her mother was her age, her singing out of tune and her designs? Ghastly . Detlinde was unsure what ghastly meant; however the fact that her mother ordered to never sing without the drowning sound of a harspeil or to make up her own designs, Detlinde knew Ghastly must have some negative connotations.   

All she wanted to do today was to play tea parties with her dolls! But she couldn’t because her mother fell down the stairs and died.

Detlinde watched Georgine’s body lay peacefully in her casket, her face etched with bruises and a deep red wound on her forehead, it had been a few hours since the funeral procession had started, her makeup had faded since, her cause of death showing glaringly red, for the entire world to see.

Detlinde looked lower, at the sword of Ewigeliebe sunken into her mother’s heart, it had been there ever since the beginning of the funeral, collecting the mana in her mother’s body.

“May Lady Georgine find peace in the Garden of Beginnings and be greeted by the Gods, with open arms.” The Head Priest took out the sword, Detlinde watched as the mana seemed to clump around the sword, the Head Priest removed the mana and shaped it into a feystone the size of his palm before it fully hardened.

And then. He took her away.

Detlinde knew she wouldn’t be allowed to go to the Archduke Conference in the coming Spring to see the Whirlers bid mother a final goodbye, so this was Detlinde’s time to give her final goodbye to her mother.

However, she couldn’t care less. Seeing the feystone being taken away for safe keepings, seeing the remaining husk that used to contain her mother’s feystone be burnt away. She felt an oddly freeing sensation bloom in her heart, like a flower design she would stitch onto her practice cloth which her mother would throw away and make to restart the process again.

It also made her feel angry, like she missed some sort of opportunity to show her mother how spectacular she could be, to show her mother that there were others out there who loved her dresses and hairstyles Detlinde loved to make and Georgine would hate so much. To show that people of Ahrensbach loved her enough to make her their Aub.

A missed opportunity.

Detlinde felt tears well up, it wasn’t fair! It just wasn’t fair! How dare mother die like this?! By falling down the stairs?! How dare she?! How dare she not stay and watch Detlinde flourish at the academy like she did with Wolfram and Alstede?! How dare she not be there when Detlinde would get First-in-Class and not congratulate her?

Sniff Sniff!

How dare mother not give her any good memories of them together so she could think back to those for comfort instead of grieving over a fantasy?

Detlinde poised herself and walked out with her attendants, the funeral was done, now she could finally go back to her tea party.

[flowerstudiotx]

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[masterofrecords]

Angstober 2024 day 17: "Shh..."

Misfortune Shared

The rain finally stops by the time Leonard makes it to the cemetery. Still, it’s delayed him enough as it is, and he makes his appearance in his traveling coat and with all his bags.

People will probably talk.

He can’t bring himself to care, even if now he should probably worry more about his – the family’s – image.

The small chapel is filled with people, but mostly due to its size. There are some friends of the family Leonard recognizes, his parents’ classmates, the house staff. There are two clerics of Death whose names he doesn’t remember.

There is Faye.

She seems so tiny compared to the two imposing, closed caskets. Her boots are trailed with mud and her sleeves with tears, and she’s biting her lips far too much despite the comforting hand of the governess behind her.

The prayers end quickly. He takes his place by his father’s side, regretting that he can’t guide both of them to the afterlife, that he wasn’t there, that he had little part in any of the funeral preparations.

Still, they carry both caskets to the graves. He wishes their last journey wasn’t so wet and dirty, but all he can do is take care not to slip.

He throws the first handful of earth. Faye throws some light blue flowers into the grave, and their eyes meet for a moment. Her lips tremble, but she hurries along to the side even as more tears start falling, and the ceremony continues.

Leonard dreads the next part. Everyone says their goodbyes, and the priests call for the gravediggers, meaning people will come to express their condolences.

He would much rather be alone.

But before anyone else can approach, a tiny body collides into his side. Small, delicate hands grip forcefully onto his dusted sleeve, and Faye wails loudly and without words.

For a while, he stands frozen.

There are no words of comfort in his mind. Her tears only make him want to cry, too, so he hesitantly reaches out with his free hand and pats her head, pulls her a bit closer. Her crying grows more muffled as she presses her face firmer into his side, but what he doesn’t hear, he feels in the violent shaking of her body.

“Don’t cry,” he says helplessly. “Shh, don’t cry, we’ll… we’ll figure something out.”

It doesn’t help.

He hugs her tighter and rocks a bit back and forth in a way that he hopes is reassuring. It seems to work, but every so often the sobbing starts anew. He wonders if the stiff wool of his doublet is uncomfortable against Faye’s face, but she doesn’t seem to be willing to move.

Leonard rummages through his pockets, looking for anything useful. His last project is still in his coat, and he pulls it out, fumbling to wind it up one-handed.

“Look, isn’t this nice?” he asks, desperate, brain catching up way too late that a scorpion – albeit not a living one – might not be most people’s idea of “nice”.

She turns her head to the side, peeking at his hand. The clockwork isn’t very elaborate. The spring is only powerful enough to make it move each leg once, and to make the tail go back and forth a bit.

Somehow, she looks fascinated.

There are still tears running down her cheeks, seemingly endless, but she goes quiet, reaching a finger towards the toy.

Leonard winds it up again, and lets it loose on the back of Faye’s palm. She gasps, and quickly moves to cup it with her other hand lest it walks off and falls.

He is finally free to let go, but doesn’t.

“It’ll be okay, alright?” he whispers, however hard it is to believe now.

Even if it isn’t true now, he’ll make it so.

---

Better late than never? Also there are so many Faye and Leo pieces now that I'm losing count. Still, here are some: Fever, Like Clockwork, Handmade Miracles, Promise

Also also - already with art, because @weilaverdui is so much better at keeping up with the prompts

[diantheia]

Doorstober day 23: Bob! Fic category: gen. Summary: Bob's... dead!?!?!?!?!? Word count: 248

A human finally escapes the library, only to be met with a bizarre sight (bizarre in relation to how this hotel usually is).

There’s an open casket on the table where El Goblino and Bob usually sit; it has been surrounded by flowers. On the floor, El Goblino sits on his knees, crying before it whilst Jeff reaches over and pats him solemnly on the back.

“What is going on here?” The human asks, a little confused.

“Bob’s dead!” El Goblino wails to the sky, before crying harder into his tiny hands.

“Oh… My condolences…” The human says, walking over to reassuringly rub El Goblino’s tiny back. They look down at the poor, little skeleton, lying peacefully in the casket. “If it is ok with you two… I would like to have a moment alone with the deceased”

“Mhm…” El Goblino mumbles out between sobs, before slowly being ushered out the room by Jeff (who in turn, shuts his corridor off not long after).

The human, now alone with Bob, lays their hands on the side of the casket, staring down at the skeleton. With a deep sigh, they lean into the casket so that their head comes up next to Bob’s skull.

“Now, listen here you little shit, I know you're faking” The human whisper-yells into the side of Bob’s skull, before standing up straight, crossing their arms in annoyance.

Miraculously, the skeleton springs to life, sitting up abruptly in the coffin.

“Well, no shit!” Bob responds.

Yes, this is a reference. No, it's not an accurate reference because I couldn't find the video again.

[terrence-silver]

Could you write literally anything you want about John Kreese and his beloved, there just is not enough John writes in the world and I know you’re the best person to do it

---

John has had funerals before.

Few people could say they've died multiple times.

Yes, one could technically say he was declared KIA in 'Nam, or at least, that a part of him was --- maybe his boyish weakness, his hopes, dreams, even though he wasn't fan of sappy sentiments of the kind. Another occasion, when he and Terry pretended he died to trick the Larusso primaballerina into letting down his guard for shits-and-giggles while, in truth, John was on Tahiti time sunbathing his ass the whole time. Those were the good old days --- the recollection alone made him chuckle even decades down the line. He could even say he died in the thirty something years he was away after the tournament loss of '85, his second championship flop, season back to back, having him retreat and lay low, breaking contact with everyone and everything --- with society at large --- even Terry himself who he was certain kept an eye on him regardless, licking his wounds and recuperating because John simply didn't believe the world had much use for him if he wasn't winning something. Not now and not ever. He didn't wanna be in a world where he was losing everything, his life unraveling by the seams and him being forced to watch, unable to stop it, so he'd rather not participate at all.

And he didn't.

In the thirty years of his absence he still had enough leftover cash to buy himself a funeral plot and erect an actual grave once the years started creeping in on him. If third time wasn't the charm, the fourth one would be. Eventually, he would have no use to pretend anymore because everyone eventually dies if they wait that crap out long enough. Cpt. John Kreese, the simple concrete plaque said as per his request. No bullshit. No fancy epitaphs. None of that nonsense. He wasn't out here to convince anyone he was something he was not. Just his military rank, name, surname, date of birth to be joined by a date of death. Never wanted to rest beside Betsy down in Pasadena. Didn't figure he deserved to. Didn't figure it was right anymore. Not now that he had you. You had the mutually solemn tendency to come out here with him and visit the still empty grave site. Set down the occasional flower and just watch, like you were mourning an actual person buried down there with him and then, you'd leave, in tow. He wanted to bury the idea of second chances down there too eons ago, it seemed; cover it with a thick, coated layer of muddy soil and call it a day, but here you were, springing free from the casket he intended to put the thought of a second love into and you unexpectedly sprung free, strolling the pavements of the empty cemetery sidewalk with him. Ironic how it quelled John's desire to die at all.

Maybe he didn't have to. Maybe he already died all the sufficient times he needed to.

Maybe a man can fill a certain quota.

-"You alright, John?"- You ask, catching him deep in his thoughts, interlocking his arms with yours as you quietly waddled forward, under the sun. You knew his life story. You knew why he erected this grave for himself. You didn't bullshit him and he didn't bullshit you. He rather enjoyed that. But, no, he didn't think he'd let himself go to waste just yet. -"Yeah."- He trails off, nodding and smiling, sliding on his shades. Perhaps a part of him didn't want you read in his eyes just how content he was. -"Yeah, I am."- He raises his eyes to look up at you, eyes concealed with a veneer of black. -"I think we should go get some drinks, doll. Treats on me, of course."- What a line, Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca be damned, he concludes, self-congratulatory, imagining himself in black and white. From a graveyard to hitting the bar with a beaut. He feels twenty fuck five next to you again, and he figures, he's had his funerals before. Few people could say they've died multiple times, sure.

Just as well, few people could say they loved multiple times too.

John Kreese was certainly the exception to every rule ever made.

[archivoautista]

Joy in Funerals: Ghana and Egypt

 

In Ghana, a funeral procession follows the familiar steps we know, the mourning around the casket, the walk to the final resting place, the burial in a cemetery, except that their dead are buried in colorful coffins shaped like crabs, cars, unicorns, dinosaurs, fishes, airplanes, cows, shoes. These are custom, fantastic, or proverbial coffins (abebuu adekai in its language), also sometimes called “FAVs” (fantastic afterlife vehicles). (Which is just, honestly epic, I could not come up with a greater name).

The desire for a colorful burial is not such a foreign one, you can imagine a kid enamored with dinosaurs, who would want nothing more than to be buried in a fucking Plateosaurus! Even people have got to admit, it would be nice to be buried in a coffin with, y’know, at least a floral pattern, maybe some ancient runes, for a history nerd. A coffin upholstered to look like the night sky! Even better, a coffin engraved to look like Van Goghs’ Starry Night. You know art kids would eat those up. They would sell like hot bread. It’s like Sylvia Plath once said: 

 But going back to the kid, there actually exists a very famous example of a person buried with a child’s Joy. Tutankhamun was the pharaoh's son, as a child, he was disabled, walked differently to others, and needed “orthopedic” footwear, which, relatable. And he had a huge love for ducks. People gifted him tunics with duck embroidered on it. He wore duck sandals, earrings decorated with ducks. He had toy ducks. When he died, aged 18 or 19, he was buried with all his duck memorabilia, in a chest, engraved with ducks, and a mummified duck, as well.

And what is that but a morsel of Joy to be enjoyed after death? by the dead and the mourners. 

This all reminds me of a poem written by Juan Gelman

A bird lived in me. 

A flower traveled in my blood. 

My heart was a violin. 

I loved and didn’t love. 

But sometimes I was loved.

I also was happy: about the spring, the hands together, what is happy.

I say man has to be!

Herein lies a bird, a flower, a violin.

I find it comforting to know that through all human existence people feel the palpable importance of burying somebody with a bird, a flower, and a violin.

This is all a very wayward way of saying that I would like to be buried with my calavera cup.

[cagcdlxve]

⋆˙⟡ Liked starter @magnusmodig

She had been sitting under the tree for a long while now. She felt guilty ( so much guilt, it made her want to- ) leaving the confines of Tae's abode. But she was never made to be indoors for so long. She needed the warmth of the sun, and the grass on her feet. There was peace she found among the wilderness, she needed peace more than anything else.

Surrounding her were several blooms of flowers. Lilies... Tulips... Carnations. All sorts of colors and varieties. It looked like a wedding bouquet ( or a funeral casket. ) Her hand remained connected to the earth, where her heart poured out to the petals.

There was no change in movement when she noticed the shadow. She recognized it well enough. ( that shade of red. a shelter. a warm embrace. ) Despite the numbness in her body, even she could feel the lifting of her heart. A soft blush of life came to her cheeks as her lips perched upwards.

Her eyes, however... those were still cold.

" Sir Thor!... " she greeted warmly, looking up. It took far too long for her to find his eyes, but even when they did, she did not look for long ( the tree tops behind him took her attention instead. ) " It's a beautiful afternoon to be walking through the park. "

She pondered what it was he might've been here for... only for the corners of her lips to fall. guilty. did she make him worry? " ...Tae did not send you, did she? " more flowers began to spring up around her. Maybe she wished she could simply be swallowed by these lovely things.

[silverthefox713]

Locations for anything

                                                ~Locations~ 

Abandoned Location 

Agencies 

Air Balloon Park

Airport

Animal Shelter 

Animation Studio 

Apartment 

Aquarium 

Arcade 

Art Studio 

Bakery 

Ballroom

Bank  

Bar/Pub 

Barn 

Barnes and Noble 

B&B Castle/Cabin 

Beach/Beach House 

Books-a-million 

Bowling Alley 

Cabin in the Woods 

Castle 

Campgrounds 

Caves 

Cemeteries 

Church (don't have to be religious) 

Clinic 

Club 

Community Center 

Conventions 

Courthouse 

Daycare/Preschool 

Dealership 

Disney World/Land 

Drug Den 

Enchanted Forest 

Factory 

Fae Realm 

Farmhouse 

Festivals 

Firestation 

Floating Islands 

Forest 

Freddy Fazbears Pizza Place 

Gas Station 

Glass Artist Workshop 

Graveyard/Crypts 

Gym 

Hair/Nail Salon 

Haunted House 

Hiking Trails

Homeless Shelter  

Hospital 

Hotel 

Hot Springs 

Job Finder Depot 

Kingdom 

Lake 

Library 

Lighthouse 

Live Theater 

Lotus Fields 

Love Hotel 

Maid cafe 

Mansion 

Marketplace (+Blackmarket) 

Morgue 

Motel 

Mountain 

Movie Theater 

Museum 

Neighborhood 

Observatory 

Orchards 

Orphanage 

Park 

Police Station

Ports 

Post Office 

Prison 

Radio/Tv Studio 

Ranch/Farm 

Red Light District 

Restaurant  

River 

School/Collage Grounds 

Secret Location 

Shelters

Skating rink 

Snowy Mountain Ski Lodge/Resort 

Spa 

Space 

Space Station 

Temple 

Train Rides 

Trailer Park 

Tribe 

Vet 

Yat 

Yoga Studio 

Zoo 

                                                  ~Shops~ 

Adult Store 

Animatronic Shop 

Antique Shop 

Baby Store 

Bakery Shop 

Barber Shop 

Bike Shop 

Boba Shop 

Book Shop 

Bridal Shop 

Butcher Shop 

Candy Shop 

Casket Store 

Clothing Shop 

Cobbler Shop 

Coffee Shop 

Comic Shop 

Corner Store 

Cosmetic Store 

Costume Shop 

Crafting Shop 

Donut Shop 

Electronic Store 

Fabric Store 

Flower Shop 

Furniture Store 

Gamestop 

Grocery Store 

Gypsy Market 

Hardware Store 

Hatter Shop 

Hottopic 

Ice Cream Shop 

IKEA 

Instrument Shop 

Jewelry Shop 

Leather Shop 

Magic Shop 

Pawn Shop 

Pet Shop 

Photography Shop 

Pizza Shop 

Potion Shop 

Ramen Shop 

Record/Vinyl Shop 

Sandwich Shop 

Spirituality Store 

TailorShop 

Tattoo Shop 

Tea Shop 

Thrift Store 

Toy Shop 

Wand Shop 

Weapons/Firearms Shop

Woodcarver Shop 

X Rated Shop

 

                                               ~In a Mall~ 

Bath and Bodyworks 

Bridal Shop 

Build-a-bear 

Claire’s 

Discovery Planet/Channel Store 

Food Court 

FYE 

Gamestop 

H&M 

HotTopic 

Spencer’s 

Victoria Secret 

Waldenbooks

  

                                        ~Fast Food Places~ 

Arby’s 

Burger King 

Dairy Queen 

KFC 

Smoothie King 

Starbucks 

Popeyes

Waffle House

                                         ~Realms/Worlds~ 

Dream Realm 

Fae Realm 

Mirror World 

Over Realm 

Shadow Realm 

Underworld 

Aether World 

Nether World  

Note: I'd be happy to add more over time, if there's any places that would be valuable to add comment it and I’ll add it ^^