#metal and crystal wall sconces

[darkyulate]

Dining Room St Louis Inspiration for a large transitional dark wood floor and brown floor enclosed dining room remodel with beige walls

[lcverwrites]

bad for business ― aegon x reader, aemond x reader (modern au)

summary … aemond sees something he wasn't supposed to...or was he? pairings … aegon targaryen x tyrell!reader, aemond targaryen x tyrell!reader warnings ... smut, unprotected sex, voyeurism, public sex, aemond being a but of a creep (but not non-con), aegon being a little shit, unhealthy family dynamics note … here's a little something that i cooked up a bit ago, i've been working on possibly making this some kind of series between aegon x reader x aemond, so let me know if you wanna see a possible part two!

⠀⠀⠀Aemond's hand clenched around the brass handle, the cool metal biting the rough texture of his palm, but the cold was the last thing on his mind.

The lighting was dim in the room, muted almost, a sconce on the wall offered a shimmer of yellow light, enough for Aemond's good eye to lock onto the two bodies pressed against the pale wall.

Perhaps he should have known.

Should have realised what he might have been walking into, when his mother asked him to go searching for his missing brother. An inkling of mockery lingering in the back of his mind, taunting him with the logical thought of the kind of person his brother was.

And there was a small part of Aemond that hoped his brother was just running behind, fiddling with his appearance, as he often is.

But nothing could have prepared his mind for the sight before him.

Aegon's dishevelled dress shirt was untucked from his black suit pants, unbuttoned and half pushed down his shoulders. Aemond could only see his brother's back, the once crisp white shirt, was wrinkled beyond repair.

But that was only the first thing Aemond noticed.

The second was the smooth leg wrapped around his brother's waist. Barely a glimpse of green silk slithered around the leg, the fabric was so dark that one might have mistaken it for black, but Aemond knew that dark emerald green colour well. Strapped to the foot, of the leg wrapped around his brother's leg, was an elegant black heel, glimmering diamonds adorning the strap of the shoe.

The third, and most important piece of the picture, was the woman Aegon had slanted himself against, the woman who was pressed to the cream coloured wall.

Her slender neck was on full display, head thrown back against the wall beneath her back, full lips parted as a pleased cry fell past her puffy pink lips. The dip of her neck was covered by a chain of diamonds, catching in the yellow light, looking like pools of crystal water around her smooth skin. The chain dipped lower on her skin, curving past her collarbones, slipping below the neckline of the green silk of her dress, resting between the valley of her breast, each deep breath caused her chest to raise, the blood red jewel glowing against her skin.

For whatever reason, Aemond couldn't have imagined this...couldn't have imagined her, the sweetest of flowers, beneath his brother's undeserving hands.

Aegon had his face pressed into her slender neck, mouthing at the smooth skin, faint red marks were etched into her skin, no thanks to Aegon's ravenous attentions. Aegon's once nicely styled hairdo had been ruffled, her fingers threaded in Aegon's ivory strands, tugging him into her body, welcoming his unholy behaviour.

Aegon's hands were wrapped around her waist, palming at the silk covered skin on her waist, nails threatening to tear the flimsy fabric, from where he was stranding, Aemond knew she wouldn’t have protested. The other hand was caressing the smooth skin of her thigh, pushing the fabric of her skirt from his way, allowing more of her skin to be exposed, more for Aegon to get his hands on.

The sound of her breathy whimpers echoed through the empty hall, accompanied with the rhythm of skin meeting skin, slow and methodical slapping that ricocheted off the bare walls.

Aemond could not see where the pair were joined, but the sound was enough for him to know, the pleased look on her face was enough of a sight, Aemond didn’t need to see anymore.

The moment he seemingly made his decision, he watched his brother whisper quiet words into her ear, lips wrapping around the gentle slope of her ear, the light catching the matching red jewels dangling from her ears for a split second, as Aegon’s lips brushed against her ear, her panting stuttered, eyes fluttering open slowly, as if she were remembering where she was, slowing, her head tilted forward.

And in a heart racing moment, her eyes locked with Aemond’s.

Her lips were parted, a sulled moan fell past her lips, but her full attention was now directed on Aemond.

“Fuck” Her voice was breathless, the words barely reached Aemond’s ears, but he knew she was doing it for his benefit.

The grip she had on Aegon’s cropped strands of pale hair tightened, burying his face into the supple skin of her breasts, his lips lapped at the cleavage spilling from beneath her dress, nipples perked and pushing against the now taunt green silk.

“Please” Her voice was louder now, carrying the short length across the hall, allowing Aemond to hear the plea.

Her pleas went straight through Aemond, sinking into his skin, digging her nails beneath the surface and refusing to budge until she drew every last breath from his lungs.

And Aemond knew he would do anything for her.

Her pleasured features were all Aemond could focus on, her eyes were sharp and focused, pupils dilated, clouded with a lustfulled expression. Despite her attention being solely on Aemond, she pulled Aegon closer, her hips canting up to meet his rhythmic thrusts.

As if she were taunting him.

Keeping him at arm's length, while she drew his brother closer, allowing him to destroy the elegant facade she’s painted.

“I want to cum for you, please” She sighed, her lips pursed into a pretty pout, allowing Aemond to take in the abused way his brother had attacked the supple skin, red, raw and utterly alluring.

Only she could look dishevelled, yet sensually elegant at the same time.

He knew he should just close the door, allow the couple their moment alone, and confront them once they were finished, but Aemond couldn’t seem to pick his feet up, rooted to the tacky blue carpet beneath his polished dress shoes.

Not when she was begging for him.

She was being fucked by Aegon, but begging for Aemond.

The irony made him want to laugh, throw his brother from her body and capture her lips for his own, fuck her the way she deserved, not against a wall in a dimly lit hallway, he’d have the decency to worship her where no one else could see her. Allow her to invade his senses, breath in her scent, taste her skin, feel her smooth body beneath his roughened palms, watch as she falls apart by his hand and his hand alone, devour her in a manner that would have her unable to speak anything but his name, like a pray on her lips, for his ears only to hear.

His grip on the door handle grounded his imagination, bringing him back to earth, where he watched her be brought to the precipice of pleasure by another man.

Fate was a cruel woman.

“I want it inside me, I want you inside me” She purred into Aegon’s ear, but her eyes were still on Aemond, inviting him into her inner thoughts, her pleasures, her fantasies…her fantasies of him.

Aemond’s breath hitched in the back of his throat as her face changed, it was subtle, a subdued moan slipped past her lips, catching in the back of her throat. Her brows furrowed slightly, like her focus was slipping away, barely holding on by her fingertips. Her head tilted back, like she wasn’t in control of her body anymore, responding to the rapid motion of Aegon’s hips, drilling faster against her body, shaking her breasts with each bounce, threatening a mouth watering escape. Despite her body moving of his own accord, she kept her hooded gaze on Aemond, as pleasured shocks ran through her body, allowing him a glimpse at this intimate moment.

With Aemond’s watchful gaze keeping close attention to her, she allowed herself to fall off the edge of her pleasure, diving head first into euphoria. The sounds falling from her lips shook Aemond to his core, he felt his slacks tighten, yearning to hear more, to feel more…to feel her.

It was a whimper of a muffled curse, a loud string of pleasured moans, gasping for a breath she couldn’t quite catch, her body tightening, drawing Aegon closer to her, bringing him further into her orbit.

Aegon’s lips twitched into an amused smirk, muttering a few words against her cleavage, words that her faltering for a moment, as if not expecting him to say whatever it was he said.

Her delayed reactions took a moment to really take in what Aegon had said, and he was clearly enjoying taking her off guard, as if he didn’t do it all that often. But the moment of taken abackness washed away, being replaced with a pleading pout.

“Give it to me, please, please” She murmured in a sultry tone, the words spilling from her lips, begging for something Aemond wasn’t privy to.

She made sure to keep eye contact with Aemond as she uttered the next words, and Aemond was lucky he didn’t burst in his dress pants.

“I want you to cum inside me” She pressed the words into Aegon’s ears, but loud enough for Aemond to hear them, to know she was addressing him too. “I want it so bad, please give it to me, please”

Aegon groaned loudly, his hips stilling against her own, her lips ghosting over his reddened cheeks.

Aemond could make out the soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips, amusement painting her flushed features, and to top it all off, she gave Aemond a subtle wink, as if she and he were in on some sort of secret.

Had she really been talking to him, it wasn’t just him imagining it?

“Enjoy the show brother?” Aegon’s lazy drawl entered Aemond’s mind, causing the man to look at his older brother, who was casting a sidelong glance at him, a lazy smirk stretching across his mouth.

“Funny” Aemond hummed gruffly.

He straightened out his shoulders, standing taller than Aegon, ever from where he was standing. He held his hands behind his back, pressing his chest out a little, looking down his nose at his brother, who looked thoroughly amused by his attempt at looking intimidating.

“Mother is looking for you” Aemond’s monotone voice echoed through the hall, the only noise in the empty corridor now.

Aegon let out an amused hum, looking back at her. She offered Aegon a gentle smile, before looking at Aemond, her smile widened and she gave him a soft shrug.

“Sorry, we got a little caught up” She replied in a soft voice, sweet as honey.

“Very caught up” Aegon echoed, a teasing tone to his words.

He finally removed his hand from her thigh, allowing her leg to drop from around his waist. There was a moment where Aemond can only assume Aegon was removing his cock from her, only through the soft squelching sound that followed. A soft giggle passed her lips, cheeks turning a soft pink as she flattened her dress, to look as if she hadn’t just been taken up against a wall.

“Feel free to watch brother, she’s a very pretty girl” Aegon spoke again, zipping up his trousers, while she tried her best to smooth out the wrinkles in his dress shirt, buttoning the shirt up as she moved along.

“Stop it Aegon, leave him alone” She chastised, but her eyes trailed back to Aemond, biting her lips softly as she tried to stifle her smile.

“You can watch” Aegon reiterated, turning around to face Aemond.

His shirt was buttoned up, looking less dishevelled than before, but still not as presentable as he knew their mother would have wanted. She saddled herself to Aegon’s side, sliding an arm around Aegon’s waist, holding herself to his side. Aegon returned the favour by wrapping his arm around her shoulder, fiddling with the thin strap of her dress, as if deciding on actually leaving the room, or going to another round.

“But you know to keep your hands to yourself” Aegon finished, giving Aemond a wide and toothy grin that would have come across as charming, if one didn’t know Aegon well.

It was coated with malice, a warning, to stay away from what was his.

But was she really his, if she was asking for Aemond’s cock?

[nvthedasmode]

The Dread Wolf's Grave

Notes:

Very short one-shot fic inspired by the quote; 'They asked "do you love her to death?" I said, "speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life.'

Lavellan's name is Harellan, 'Raven' is Varric's nickname for her.

One of Harellan's nervous habits is rolling coins over her knuckles.

Set sometime during early Veilguard, Solas presumed to be at the Lighthouse rather than in a separate prison.

First ever fic! I am not a writer! I am just a lil guy with a lot of feelings!

And I am so sorry I have no idea how to write Solas and Varric lol.

-----

To say that Varric was uncomfortable was an understatement. It was one thing to ask a dwarf to live on the surface, another thing entirely to ask him to make himself at home in the Fade. Unfortunately, he had little say in the matter. The Veilguard had settled themselves within a deep pocket of the Fade; a safe haven from the blighted elven gods now roaming Thedas, and thus far it had proven to be a wise choice.

Their new home was where he emerged from now, and the morning silence (save for Bellara’s excessive snoring) was a welcome indication that everyone was still fast asleep. Or, at least, everyone but the one elusive elf he was looking for. Once he was confident he had not woken anyone up with his heavy dwarven tread, Varric’s footsteps established a leisurely pace as he descended the stygian steps weaving from the gilded door of the Lighthouse to the shifting island below.

The Dread Wolf’s corner of the Fade expanded before him, shimmering masses of Fade-touched rock floating across the enchanted vista as unhindered wisps of magic soared above him like stars against Kirkwall’s night sky. It was brighter, warmer, but still as commanding as the area of the Fade the fear demon had ruled. Some of the silhouetted islands in the distance would have been large enough to cast a city the size of Starkhaven into complete shadow, and some dipped deeper than even the oldest of thaigs. Smaller rocks housed old and ruined walls, frescos of the fabled wolf glowing faintly from the veilfire sconces and causing him to appear equal parts treacherous and feeble.

The littlest cluster of rocks presented an assortment of ancient elven … trees, Varric assumed. Their metal base gave way to a spherical head that sprouted sharp, golden branches. They wove intricate shapes that moved to shelter a gleaming emerald centre, glinting like fire. This group veered closer to the island he now trudged along, glittering vines with blossoms as large as ponds wrapping themselves around the jagged surfaces and reaching out to grasp their neighbour - a complex walkway of mystic bridges that connected the islands, forming an imposing jungle that served as a shrine to what once was.

Far above him, when he thought to look, Varric could have sworn he could make out the slightest shape of an azure city, light refracting across the landscape as if it was pouring through a window in a Chantry cathedral. The sight was often cloaked in a calculated mist, as though his eyes were intruding on an intimate scene between two lovers - but every time he rubbed his eyes to see it clearer, it had vanished.

Varric had learned that the island he had called home for the past few weeks could shift its appearance depending on his old friend’s mood. While the Lighthouse remained the same, often the Veilguard would wake up to see their interim home had a different garden to explore, each one shaped from Solas’ lonely library of memories. Sometimes there would be luscious fields of green, emerald blades swaying to a song none but they could hear as perfectly round drops of dew dissolved into dazzling specs of light. Other times there were seemingly never-ending pathways; rivers of crystal gems creating a map upon the island, waterfalls replacing cities and curious wisps building toy castles from motes of magic. Once, when Varric awoke in the dead of night (or as close as one could get to that, in the Fade), he peered out his window to see Solas strolling Skyhold’s grounds, his tired eyes never leaving the figures of Cole and the Inquisitor as they helped to soothe a dying woman lying by the campfire, clutching a fatal wound. Had Solas reached out to them, Varric did not know, for he had quickly retreated back to his bed to allow his old friend his privacy.

Today, as Varric disembarked the steps, the soles of his worn boots met an impossibly soft sand that shifted gently beneath his weight. Something resembling seashells dotted the ground, their surface gleaming and moving in a way that made them look more like creatures than collectible souvenirs. Out of baseless paranoia more than respect, Varric carefully picked his way across the fabricated beach to the towering figure in the distance.

Solas stood at the end of the beach, the ripples of the ocean creeping along the sand to stop just shy of the tips of his feet, as though magic itself dare not disturb him. He stood tall, gazing across his domain with an expression befitting his name as the manufactured breeze lifted the ends of his coat. Hands clasped habitually behind his back, a single gold coin rolled lazily across his knuckles, causing tiny spurts of reflected light to shower across his long fingers. Any reasonable dwarf back under the surface might have mistook it for magic.

“Good morning, Varric,” came his familiar voice. He spoke in barely more than a murmur despite Varric still being numerous paces away, yet he heard it as though they were standing next to each other.

“And here I thought it was only Rook who had to listen to your voice inside their head, Chuckles,” Varric shouted back, scowling half-heartedly when he saw Solas’ shoulders betray a small laugh.

Solas patiently waited until Varric had made it to his side before speaking again, finally turning his gaze to his friend with a playful smirk on his lips. “Ir abelas, I did not want to deny you the pleasure.”

Varric let out an indignant snort. “I’m starting to understand why so many dwarves stay below the surface.”

“To avoid speaking with me?”

“Now, now, I didn’t say that.”

“You did not need to,” Solas responded curtly. Varric was glad to see the smile still lingering.

At least he hasn’t lost his sense of humour.

The two fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the waves crashing a few hundred yards ahead of them filling the space. Had he let his mind tune out for a moment, it would not have been unlike the mornings they had spent waking up to the sounds of the Storm Coast - Solas casting a protective barrier over the campfire before the Inquisitor burst into tears at the idea of going a single moment without her tea; Cassandra cursing from the edge of camp as she tried and failed to prove she could in fact approach a nug without scaring it away; Lace and Varric placing bets on how many more days it could rain before they all lost their minds. He wasn’t sure which put his back up more; being surrounded by suffocating grey and rain, slipping on lethal cliffs that never seemed to dry - or being in the Fade.

It was Solas who broke the silence first, as if sensing Varric’s unease. “How are you adjusting?”

Varric shrugged, stalling as he measured his response. It wasn’t in the nature of their relationship to lie to one another (or so I thought, he corrected himself), but he wasn’t about to start tearing apart his friend’s home either.

“I can’t exactly say I’m keen to settle down and start a family here, but I’ll give it to you - it’s impressive.”

“Thank you,” Solas sighed heavily, his eyes focused on something in the distance. “Imagine what it would be like without the Veil.”

“Chuckles, not now.”

“So, when would you propose-”

“I came here to talk to Solas,” Varric said morosely, feeling a pang of regret as Solas’ shoulders stiffened. “Not the Dread Wolf. How about you humour me, just this once? Then I promise we’ll go back to the uncomfortable ‘Child of the Stone’ and ‘Ancient Elven God’ dynamic.”

Solas silently met his eyes then, and the coin in his hands stilled as white knuckles wrapped around it tightly. Just like the painted walls on the islands floating around them, Varric could see his were tall but crumbling. Exhaustion and pain had sunk their bloodied talons into his sharp features, but under the wolf there was still the man. A friend that desperately wanted to get out.

“I’ve never been good at this sort of stuff,” Varric muttered, turning his gaze back toward the ocean, “but you left a lot of people behind. Good people, that missed you.”

“I am not unaware of that, Varric,” Solas replied. Varric could hear the sharpness to the tone, a warning that he should drop the subject immediately.

They both knew he wouldn’t.

“I mean, even Buttercup seemed upset - although she tried her best not to show it. With you gone, Cassandra became her next target for pranks, and we both know pissing off the Seeker is a dangerous choice at best - lethal at worst. I mean, I’m speaking from experience here.”

A quick glance to his right told him Solas was also very pointedly staring out at the ocean again, doing his best to look the picture of disinterest, but the ironclad set of his jaw gave him away. It always had.

“And Ruffles! I thought she would never stop accidentally adding your frilly cakes to the Val Royeaux order list each month. Eventually, me and the Kid-”

“Did you come out here with the intent to torture me, Varric?” Solas snapped, his proud mask melting away to pained anger as he pressed his eyes closed. His nose scrunched as he breathed through it, the waves that stretched before them stuttering and turning a sickly green. “Do you see me as so many of my People do? Do you also think me a heartless monster with no feelings?”

Against his will, Varric’s mind recalled his friend’s broken sobs as she read Sutherland’s reports about the monstrous demon that had plagued Skyhold. Her heart’s deepest regrets ravaging the place they had once called home, the scars of his past forever embedded in the old Inquisition fortress.

“No,” he sighed. “I don’t think that at all, Chuckles.”

Another deep breath from Solas. The water slowly began to settle once more, melting back to a cool, pure cerulean that would have made the painters at Halamshiral turn crimson with embarrassment.

“Then what can I do for you?”

“Remember,” Varric said shortly.

Solas opened his eyes to peer at Varric with confusion, and he could see the purple storm deep within them threatening to pour out and engulf the island they now stood upon.

Silently, Varric nodded to Solas’ hands, still held tightly shut as though he were frightened of dropping whatever was in them. Solas slowly unfurled his fingers, the gold coin nestled innocently in his palm, small dents pressed into his pale skin from clasping it so desperately. The purple storm observed it silently, eyes barely blinking as they stared.

“I saw you playing with it,” Varric said gently, feeling his friend was more a terrified Halla than the dreaded wolf in that moment. “Raven used to do the same thing, when she was nervous. Ruffles had to pry it from her hand when we went to the Winter Palace.”

Solas continued staring at the coin, his expression unreadable. “She gave this to me on the way to the Temple of Mythal,” he said tentatively, as though testing out the words in his mouth. Varric supposed this was the first time he had allowed himself to speak of her in years. “She said she had no need for it any longer, since she had …”

“Since she had your hand to hold,” Varric finished for him. “She said it loud enough for the entire camp to hear.” The memory almost made him smile himself.

A ghost of a smile tried to lift the corners of Solas’ mouth, but it faltered before it even began.

“I remember.”

Varric did smile then. I knew you were still in there, Chuckles.

“Do you still love her?”

There was barely a heartbeat before Solas tore his eyes away from the coin, wrapping his fingers safely around it once more before straightening to his full height and turning to look along the endless sands.

Varric felt the Fade change before he saw it. The sands before them rippled and swirled, floating smoothly into the air to reveal the harsh black rock of the island below. A deep shadow lurked over the area, a stark contrast to the vivid, colourful sky behind it. The sands shifted and formed a familiar image; tall swaths of darkness encircling a small enclave while a suffocating green mist rolled along the floor, catching Varric’s ankles and sending small tendrils up his legs that dissipated as quickly as they appeared. Paltry red spirits skittered around nervously, as if they were constantly running toward - or away from - something.

This was the graveyard from the Fear demon’s lair. Or - more accurately, Varric supposed - Solas’ memory of it.

There was a slight adjustment, however. Only one, solitary gravestone sat in the enclave. The stone it was made from looked sick, brimming with fear and unspoken terrors, its aura almost oppressive.

Varric approached it wordlessly. The words upon it were the same and yet not as he remembered - the elegant, smug carvings of the fear demon were gone, replaced by hurried, almost infantile writing that looked as if it had been carved with a very sharp claw.

‘Solas,’ it read. ‘Dying alone.’

It was only then that Varric saw them. A spectral version of Solas - his friend, Solas - appeared slowly from the darkness, smiling as he offered a gloved hand to the second figure that manifested. Harellan met his smile with her own, eagerly gripping his hand and laughing as he twirled her into his arms. The scarlet spirits, appearing to be calmed by the two newcomers, turned to watch, sweeping closer to the radiant scene that seemed to consume the darkness around it. Varric could hear the faint sound of a band playing from - somewhere? Nowhere? The memory of his friends didn’t seem to care, nor did they notice him or the cruel grave at their feet. They danced and looked at no one but each other, and Varric was irrevocably certain that they would dance forever if the world would let them.

The lonely voice came from behind him then. It was so thick with immeasurable pain that Varric could not bring himself to turn around.

“Speak of her over my grave, Varric,” Solas murmured, “and watch how she brings me back to life."

[yeehaw-in-magic-space]

Session 3 Recap: Part 3/3

They were told to find the continent’s only mountain outside of town and head up the trail until they came across Bandit King Alexander Barley’s estate, but before they did, they had some prep to do. Chuck used the scrap metal and their own meager supply of crystals to make explosives in case they needed to turn the tide in their favor. Each of them hid an explosive on themselves, as well as any weapons they could find a way to conceal. Prometheus stashed his derringer into a secure place, Geraldine attempted to stash something underneath her dress, and Dolly didn’t hide anything besides the explosive. She was still wearing the revealing costume that had been given to her by Choice Information, the tabloid that she worked for, and it wasn’t likely she’d be able to stash her weapons underneath a sheer skirt. She put the gift from Chuck underneath her hat, but everything else was on full display (though she was in good company, as Geraldine was unable to conceal her massive rifle). 

They made their way up the mountain, past the gates at the end of the trail, and into the beautiful estate of King Barley. The mansion was a three story building with elegant towers at its top. It was made out of nicer materials than anything else in town and was surrounded by lush flowers and well trimmed shrubbery. They were led through a handful of rooms and ultimately ushered into an immaculate office where Alexander Barley lounged on a couch. Three mountain lions sat by his feet and two lounged with him on the couch. He was surrounded by vicious animals, and his bandits surrounded them as they were forced to stand in the center of the room. King Barley’s hand rested on an empty torch sconce as he sat himself up to face him. 

The King informed them that they owed him money for docking, impounding, repairs, and fuel if they wanted to fly away from his world. The party traded banter and insults with him for a while, but he made it clear that he would not budge on this issue. They would either pay or be punished according to their refusal. He offered to allow them to work for him for a time to make up the payments, which upset the party, but they didn’t see many other ways out without a brutal and close quarters fight. 

The party deliberated for some time while Dolly got King Barley to reveal some information about himself. He was once a Sovereign Ranger, a rank that held equivalent weight to Knight in the modern era. He had served a minor Prince during The Long War, and saw an opportunity when he was asked to seize this planet and its surrounding moons. He decided to take it for himself and promise independence to the people if they made him their king. He’s been ruling ever since then, taking and selling as many resources as possible to improve his finances and continue to live in secluded luxury. 

The party ultimately decided to agree when the King let it slip that their ship was rigged with explosives and tracking equipment. He promised to let them fly it for him, but if they ever deviated off course, they would die. The deal was shoddy, and it was clear he intended to keep them doing jobs for him for as long as possible. The party was forecefully moved a few steps back as their weapons and tools were taken from them (at least, the ones the bandits managed to find). Once they were away from the room's center, King Barley pulled on the sconce, revealing a dim maze of old mining tunnels beneath them. They could hear something stamping and scraping against the walls, but they couldn't see what. (Dolly unfortunately rolled a nat 1, which she justified as her being unable to look down since there was an explosive underneath her hat)

The party was taken to a set of rooms on the third floor. The second they were alone, they began hatching a plan of escape. But that would have to wait until dinner, because that was where the session ended. 

[wood-factory-furniture]

How to Style a Wooden Console Table: 10 Thoughts for Your Entryway

A Wooden Console Table is a flexible household item that can add both usefulness and style to your home. Frequently positioned in the entryway, it fills in as a spot to drop keys, mail, or packs while likewise going about as an embellishing point of convergence. The following are 10 plans to assist you with styling your wooden console table and make an inviting entry:

1. Moderate Stylish

Keep it basic: Choose a perfect, moderate look by putting a couple of painstakingly picked things on the table.

Utilize regular components: Consolidate normal materials like wood, stone, or vegetation to make a quieting environment.

Add a bit of variety: Present a pop of variety with a little jar of blossoms or an enhancing bowl.

2. Natural Appeal

Embrace regular surfaces: Match your wooden console table with other rural components like woven bushels, burlap, or horns.

Add a one of a kind touch: Integrate collectible or rare things, like an outlined photo or a little clock.

Utilize warm lighting: Introduce a pendant light or wall sconces over the table to make a comfortable feeling.

3. Alluring Sparkle

Add a bit of extravagance: Consolidate metallic accents, like gold or silver, with beautiful items or a mirror.

Utilize sensational lighting: Introduce a crystal fixture or an assertion light installation over the table.

Add a hint of extravagance: Spot a velvet sprinter or a rich toss cover on the table.

4. Beach front Stylish

Integrate nautical components: Use shells, starfish, or nautical-themed stylistic layout.

Utilize a light variety range: Decide on delicate blues, whites, and sandy tones.

Add a hint of surface: Consolidate jute floor coverings or woven crates.

5. Modern Edge

Join wood and metal: Match your wooden console table with metal accents, like a metal light or a created iron crate.

Utilize unrefined components: Consolidate incomplete wood or uncovered block for a tough look.

Add a hint of vegetation: Spot a huge pruned plant or a balancing grower on the table.

6. Conventional Class

Utilize exemplary style: Consolidate customary components like porcelain jars, precious stone dishes, or outlined family representations.

Add a bit of variety: Utilize quieted tones like naval force, burgundy, or olive green.

Utilize an assertion piece: Spot a huge improving item, like a model or a jar, as the focal point.

7. Varied Blend

Consolidate various styles: Blend and match different styles and surfaces for an exceptional look.

Utilize various tones: Integrate a brilliant range of things.

Add individual contacts: Show things that mirror your character and interests.

8. Display Wall

Make a point of convergence: Hang a display wall over the console table.

Blend and match outlines: Utilize various edges and sizes to make an outwardly intriguing showcase.

Add individual contacts: Incorporate outlined photos, craftsmanship, or uplifting statements.

9. Capacity Arrangement

Expand space: Use containers, plate, or drawers to coordinate and store things on the table.

Keep it utilitarian: Pick things that are both enhancing and commonsense.

Add a hint of character: Redo stockpiling arrangements with marks or brightening extras.

10. Occasional Stylistic theme

Change with the seasons: Update the table's stylistic layout to mirror the momentum season.

Utilize occasional tones: Integrate varieties and examples that are related with the season.

Add occasional components: Spot occasional adornments, for example, pumpkins in the fall or pine cones in the colder time of year.

Keep in mind, the way to styling a wooden console table is to have a great time and trial with various looks. Don't hesitate for even a moment to attempt new things and customize the space to mirror your exceptional style.

Extra Tips

Think about the size of your entryway: Pick a console table that is the right size for your space.

Focus on the subtleties: Add final details like toss cushions, candles, or books to finish the look.

Make sure to revise: Move things around until you find a design that you love.

Have a great time! Styling your console table ought to be an agreeable encounter.

By following these tips, you can make a wonderful and useful entryway that invites you home consistently.

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

The captain takes the steps two at a time at hearing the commotion, but his senses zero in at the smell of blood – warm and familiar. 

Doe. 

He finds her among the fray immediately, striding across the deck to her side and gently taking her by the shoulders, searching her panicked face. He pulls her aside and into the shade of one of the massive sails, cupping her jaw within his ringed fingers and brushing stray strands of dark hair from her face. 

“Darling, what’s happened?” 

He listens as she explains the situation with Gale and with Tara, Astarion’s eyes never leaving hers. He nods, reminded of the volatile nature of Gale’s condition. Once Doe finishes speaking, the captain gives her a sweet, sympathetic smile. 

“Not to worry, Doe. Come with me.” He gently takes her hand in his, careful to focus on anything other than the blood on her, the scent driving him mad. Astarion swallows hard as he leads her from the main deck and towards a set of ornate, crimson-stained doors. He turns one of the silver-filigree handles and pushes into the room beyond, escorting Doe inside with his hand softly pressed against her back. “I’d like for you stay here and make yourself comfortable while I retrieve the healer. Captain’s orders.” Doe only nods, her vision focused on the scratch. He slips back through the door, and it’s only when the latch clicks! shut that Doe looks up at the room around her. 

The captain’s quarters. 

The room is much more expansive than Doe would’ve thought. The walls are dark, with various drapings of crimson, onyx and maroon covering the windows on the far wall. Most of the light comes from candle-lit sconces along the walls and red paper lanterns, gilded with gold. Doe’s eyes trail along the strands of crystals and baubles draped between the walls and the ceiling, each surface glinting in the warm light. 

The room is clearly a treasure trove of his collection from his years traveling the world. There must be artefacts from every region of Faerun and beyond – old, leather-bound books in languages Doe doesn’t recognize; odd shaped glass figures in vibrant colors she’d never thought imaginable. Plants, native and exotic, tediously placed on every surface imaginable. An ancient looking wardrobe in the far corner, the paint on the front cabinet doors cracking, but depicting a beautiful spring scene. And in the center of this glorious trove, a long plum-hued velvet chaise in place of a bed covered in several perfectly disheveled blankets, resting on a plush patterned rug. 

It hadn’t been what she’d expected from the captain, but she couldn’t help but feed her curiosity, exploring every corner she could before his return.

'Wow.' She makes a beeline for the plants, examining the leaves- all healthy and flourishing, which makes her smile. Her eyes fall on a book of poetry in an elegant scrawl, clearly in use. She reads curiously while she waits, ignoring the sting in her arm.

Dusk fallen on the city glittering and pretty its fragrant flowers and blood-red towers of crystal and stone make one feel strangely alone; but this dark ship's deck and her pretty pale neck- The poem trails off, unfinished. She examines the strings of crystals and precious metals next, particularly admiring a pair of bright silver earrings inlaid with sapphires. They put her in mind of the navigator and his preference for blue.

She reaches for the deep purple petals of a strange flower, its intoxicating scent making her feel slightly dizzy- unless she'd lost more blood than she thought.

[sarandipitywrites]

😊 & ☂️

hi, Kaius!

(this is from the WIP excerpts ask game if anyone wants to send or receive asks about their projects)

these are... longer than a line each lol.

😊(share a happy line):

When Lienzo emerged from the closet, it was in a neat white tunic, snug dark breeches, cozy stockings, and knee-high leather boots. And the scarlet coat, of course. The face staring back through the mirror bit his lip against a giddy smile. The coat had looked nice on the hook, but on him? The thick material padded out his shoulders and tucked at the waist before draping inconspicuously over his hips. Combined with the slimming breeches, he looked almost... "If you didn't know any better, you might think I belonged in this place." He pulled the ratty tie from his hair, shaking his braids out before piling them back atop his head and securing them with a forest green ribbon he'd found in the closet. "Ugh, I wish I could see it. The very moment I'm out of this statue, you're giving me that fashion show. I'm going to make you try on everything in that closet." Lienzo fussed with the collar, turning it down, up, down again. "I don't know, Aisha. Gold chiffon's not really my style." "Everything."

☂️ (share your favorite description of an object):

A metal bangle, brighter and shinier than silver, glinted in the light of the wall sconces. Three crystals, clouded as a breath on a winter's morning, studded the thickest part of the piece. At first he thought it a trick of the light, but as he stared at them, the smoke within the gems stirred and shifted. "Put it on before you leave the city's gates, and do not remove it until you have exited the forest. It will keep the untethered at bay." Lienzo's eyes widened. The fire turned to ash in his lungs. "Wait, I've read about this, this is—" "Spirit quartz, yes." The beast swallowed with an audible click. It wrapped a hand around his — large and callused and impossibly warm — and pushed the bangle towards him. "Safe journey, Lienzo." Spirit quartz was rare as dragon's teeth, and even more valuable. A manmade substance, only able to be crafted from the fresh cremains of an Artist. Between the fact that only ten percent of the population had any Artistic potential and the taboo against dividing funerary ashes— "I... I'll leave it for you. At the edge of the forest."

thank you for the ask! 💜

[transman-badass]

Warm up exercise of the day - describing a balcony of the Glint Hotel in Farewell Vesperos, my current novella project:

The floor creaks, dark old wood underfoot. It's not a large walkway. In the dark, cool night, one can barely see it from the ground. Compared to the splendor of the rest of the Glint Hotel, it is quiet, and plain, and cold. No electricity pumps through these walls, no candles nor crystals flicker in the round holders, the hand carved sconces now crusted over with frost. The railing is sturdy, the dark metal cool and rough under the fingers. From this space, two floors up from the dirt, the oldest child, the largest moon, hangs heavy over the city, so clear to see in the night. Crows call in the darkness. Trains rumble in the distance. The floor trembles. The cold air burns the lungs. One wrong move could send a poor fool down down down to the floor below. But who would be fool enough to step foot upon this old and treacherous balcony in the first place?

Want to be added to the tag list for this novella? Just ask!

[the-fiction-witch]

The Witch's Wand P3

I woke in a strange place, I don't know what I was expecting behind the door but it certainly wasn't this. 

My body lay on a dark wooden floor, my dress hung about me, I sat up and looked around the room. I saw behind me the purple door I had stepped through, the wand on the floor in front of me, the room that surrounded me was dark but strangely soothing, the walls panelled with dark brown wood, and on either side of me sat two large doors with two bullseye glass windows in each door, two smaller doors at the end of the room, in front of me was a wooden staircase with a green carpet running down it like a river small silver rods and dust corners on the stairs, hung above was a silver metal candle style chandelier with small flickering candles. 

"Where am I? Hello! Is someone here? What is this place?" I asked but no answer, 

I slowly picked up the wand and got to my feet, I brushed off my dress and tried the door it clicked open and I expected to see the Port Victory Street but I didn't, beyond the door was a garden full of sweet green grass and various flowers with a small stone path leading into the thick woods, with a small river babbling along with fish and flowers, the rain battering the world outside the sweet sound of the drops hitting the stone and grass. 

"Whe- Where did Port Victory go?" 

I shut the door again and tried to see if I could find something inside the house, I headed to the left door and found a small lounge with two large arched windows that looked out into the windows, half wooden walls with white and black striped wallpaper, a few candle sconces, a sweet rounded fireplace lit crackling and fluttering, a mantle with a bunch of snow globes, a few leather sofa's on a round fluffy rug, A painting above the fireplace of a mountain lake the water moving and shifting the little boat floating on the water as if the painting was alive, but no one was here.

I moved close to the fire warming myself up a little and I looked at the snow gloves they all were filled with glittering snow with strange things. Many of them with a layer of dust over the top, I looked through some more seeing a little house by a river, a strange school building, a farmhouse, a basement apartment, a grand gothic manor, a Las Vegas hotel, a fantasy castle, a strange alien world, a place with blu water, a cottage, a small English village, a boat on the water an American mining town and many more. I found one that looked familiar to me I picked it up and saw a large house with a garden and pond and two people sat talking on a bench it was the newest and the least dusty, It looked like a house from Port Victory.

I noticed on the floor was a shattered show globe, the water inside long dried up, inside the model of an island I had never seen before. 

I quickly left the room and went across to the right door, where a gothic cottage kitchen with wooden cabinets painted pale green, large windows looking out to the river with stained glass at their top, a chandelier with more candles and small crystals hung from it, the kitchen littered with small things, copper pans, little vintage style kitchen machines, herbs and jars of ingredients one cabinet behind a stained glass pantry door was filled with jars, bottles and such like you'd imagine an apothecary to have all labelled with words I couldn't read and a wooden table in the centre, on the table a small plate of victoria sponge cupcakes, a cutting board with some half ate tiger bread and a plate of toffee cookies. And I saw a sign above one window.

'Witches Kitchen' 

I left and passed the stairs to open the door to the right of the stairs, as I did I heard this gentle music and perked up to think someone was there but I walked into a beautiful room much like the others with wood and trinkets lining it, but this was a library with books littering the shelves a fireplace not yet lit with a large mirror above it, at one end there must have been over five thousand books all cared for and well-loved, a ladder that ran across a silver railing to access the higher books, a piano sat in the middle of the room under the candlelight playing a tune to itself the keys being pressed but no one playing it, I briefly sat on the small stool watching it play itself seeing the music open but being written as it plaid, on the piano, sat a few frames with faces I somehow felt I knew the least dusty a small photo of a child no older than two. I got up from the piano and moved to the desk close to the fire with various items scattered across it.

The items all were there for bookbinding, leather, string, pages, an ink pen and in the centre a book in the process of being made open to a page.

'He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead shutting his eyes and letting his lips linger against my skin, but he pulled back not even baring to make eye contact as his hand slipped from mine, the rush of cold air against my skin without him there, and as he turned and walked away I felt like he had taken his scalpel and cut open my chest, taking my heart with him when he went. I wanted to run after him but I was paralysed, My tears flooded like a burst dam, my cries mad and hysterical, my breathing harsh and jagged as I desperately took in the air between my violent sobs, my legs went weak and my knees failed to let me fall to the dusty dirt. my violent cries echoed through the empty streets as I muttered or tried to call out.

"No... No... No... Jack... Jack... Please... Please Jack, please... No please just come back... Just come back, please... Please... Come back, Jack..."

I tried to call his name, I begged him, I pleaded with him, I screamed out in utter desperation as my heart broke into a thousand pieces...'

"What? But- but that's- I said that." I spoke up, "Who. Who wrote this!" 

I ran out confused and checked the last room for any sign of people but no luck this was a small room with some seats, rugs and blankets, a cup of apple juice by the table, a conservatory looking out to the garden, littered with flowers, plants and herbs all being battered by the rain, the rain landing on the glass roof making this calming sweet sound, but I left as there was no one here. 

In my confusion, I began to walk up the stairs still looking for any sign of people. 

[sufferawitchrp]

⯎ SUBPLOT No. III — OUR LADY OF SORROWS ⯎

TW: blood, coarse language, violence

The Iron Maiden was a sumptuous creation of red brick and gold. It was a provocative smile throbbing in the near impenetrable shadow of evening, a host to the sensual explosion of swirling hips and a satin ribbon threaded through locks of braided hair. Mounted on its gabled rooftop, pillars of platinum light swirled overhead, a dozen sterling eyes piercing through the impassive mein of nightfall. The tachycardia of an evening in full-swing could be heard; the inside of the establishment was festooned with satin, silk, and semi-precious stones while the walls were painted a wicked shade of sangria. 

Curtains of lace and velvet unspooled from the vaulted ceiling, their presence accentuated by the strategic placement of gaping windows and erotic frescoes. Overhead, a brass chandelier dangled from a single gold chain, its structure molded into the figure of a woman whose arms and legs were thrown upward as though she were grasping for salvation in the midst of free-fall. Balanced atop her flailing hands and feet were four large candles dripping fragrant wax. 

A restive haze drifted above the heads of the establishment’s patrons, their slender cigarettes smelling of peppermint and cloves. Laughter and heated debates erupted from between the slight part in their mouths while their hands idled around a crystal tumbler or the narrow stem of an ancient wine. A lone figure wandered among them, edging its way between tables crowded with playing cards and gilded plates stacked high with half-eaten appetizers. The train of a long cape swept across the polished floor, narrowly missing the flat soles of glossy dress shoes and the swaying leg of a padded chair. The silhouette navigated the heart of the parlor with ease before disappearing behind a pair of large double doors – twin windows to another world that was far more silent than the one that had just been left behind. 

Here, the aroma of mint and spices were exchanged for the dull perfume of old tapestries. The corridor was ribbed with silver suits of armour and an assortment of taxidermied heads mounted on old plaques. The exuberant din of entertainment faded with each footstep as the figure navigated the empty halls, her heavily lined eyes focused on the patterns that blurred beneath her feet. Filigrees and tassels merged into an endless stretch of dark wood until the cloaked figure came to a sudden stop before a square enclosure. The woman raised her hand and pressed her palm flat against the wall; a small cloud of dust fluttered upward before the panel gave, shifting no more than an inch before it dropped away. The woman squeezed through the gap and pressed onward into the encroaching darkness, maneuvering through the blackened labyrinth for what felt like an eternity before coming upon a spiral staircase whose metal steps descended further into the swollen darkness. Dropping a hand onto the banister, the woman made her way down the stairs until she stepped out onto an ever tighter path of cold stone. 

Metal sconces burned with a ferocious light, their flames illuminating a jagged ceiling of pointed rock. The rugged walls opened up into a room furnished with a large table and rows of empty shelves, each one housing an assortment of jars and metal tools. She extended a hand, sweeping a slender finger down the length of a rubber handle before lifting the small cleaver off the shelf. She passed the object between her palms as she resumed her journey, edging towards a small corridor whose walls were lined with the cold iron bars of multiple holding cells. The sound of movement could be heard at the far end of the passageway as she approached, her heels skittering across the damp stone until she came to a stop before a rusted lock; on the other side, a male figure lay prone in a questionable state of undress. He continued to stir on the ground and then, coming to the sudden realization that he was being watched, he lurched to his feet and took hold of the bars. 

“Bitch!” he snarled, saliva pooling around the corners of his mouth, “Let me out!” He shook the bars in a stubborn rage until exhaustion washed over him and he had no other choice than to slump against the iron.

The woman stepped forward and withdrew a small needle from an inner pocket, its golden edge shining bright in the dimly lit dungeon. “I can’t do that if you won’t cooperate,” she replied, dark eyes wandering over the length of his bloated torso. “Get up and give me your arm.” She bent low and extended her opposite hand, palm upturned and expectant.

“Fuck off,” he hissed. “Cut the shit already and just let me walk out of here.” His chains slithered across the stones as he rose up onto his knees and snatched the woman’s wrist from between the iron bars. He pulled her towards him and barked a vicious laugh as she struggled within his grasp, her face pressed flush against the frosted metal. “Knock it off already or I’ll fuckin’ kill you when I get out of here.” His grip tightened but a fraction before his fingers went slack and his mouth popped open in an anguished cry. The blunt edge of the needle pointed upward, its hollowed tip biting into the sweat-slick skin between his thumb and forefinger. He yanked the needle loose and jumped to his feet – the shock and pain disappeared from his face, scrubbed away by anger. “Bitch! Bitch! Bitch!” he bellowed, spitting something thick and green between her feet.  

Something flickered in the woman’s eyes then — an incalculable rage that was there and then gone in an instant. The man had seen it and paused, his mouth dropping open, tongue wagging in desperate search of an apology. He had only just begun to form the first of many panicked syllables before the woman raised her hand and then brought it down in a smooth, sharp arc. 

The cleaver cut into his neck and he dropped to the floor, a scarlet pool growing fast beneath his gaping throat. She stepped back as a ribbon of blood edged towards the pointed toe of her boot, its surface aglow in the sparse light. The bridge of her nose wrinkled as she turned away and dissolved into the shadows.

SPECIES SPOTLIGHT — VAMPIRES SUMMARY — Held in high esteem across the entirety of New England for its elaborate night-time performances and exclusive culture of indulgence, the Iron Maiden has become a place of immense interest for those looking to sate themselves on the fine art of fantasy and seduction. However, the lounge is host to something sinister — something wicked tucked away behind a veneer of exposed skin, expensive lace, and the smoke of imported cigarettes. - - , ## [blood mother] - - , ## [iron maiden] - - , ## [iron maiden] - - , ## [iron maiden] - - , ## [iron maiden] - - , ## [iron maiden]

[lastconcourse]

Tornado Recipe UltraJune

(Symphony Futility in Z major)

Unstageable play

Regiondirect→Camereye stood parallel

A kitchen in an upper middle class home. It’s a dim noon. The counters+sink are lit by adjustable lamps on two aluminum racks overhead. In the middle of the room there is one center island; marbletopped, with two wood doors that open for access to inner-cabinet storage. The sink is in the back at stage right. There is a window above the sink. The Readers can see on the outside that there’s a dreary dusk sky, plus a cloud above. All the cabinet doors are white, the sinkfaucet is gold color, the cabinet doors are gold color. A rack of silver soupladles+spatula+tongs+whisks+tablespoons is mounted on the wall over a blender and beside a black air fryer. Right side: Out of the refrigerator come both hum and icerumble sounds. A windchime sings in parallel with nearing thunder.

(egg timer, stove, junk drawer full of rubberbands, unused tools, a tape measure, whole drawerfull of clean knives+forks+spoons, a dishwasher, a spice rack with one hundred flavors, a microwave, )

Flying soup ladles calmly stir a pot of boiled tin foil. The air fryer cheerfully pops its door open. A gantry crane lowers its chain from the ceiling, on the hook is a red wicker basket full of leather wallets. Two big bowls spin slowly like tops on the center island, one full of ice cream and the other full of fresh soup. The airfryer drops its door open and slides out its metal rack. A forklift made out of an exercise machine takes the basket and dumps the wallets on the airfryer’s rack, which is stuck out like a tongue. A flying pair of tongs with biplane wings serves rolls of bread from a tray out of the oven. The air fryer timerknob is now switched on and the timer is making its quick chatter sound. Icecream and Soup bowls drift and bounce together a bit like careening tops, and now the leather bakes.

Regiondirect→Stage right (Begin ruination of a birthday lunch)

A cardboard box full of embarassing memories is spilled down the stairs: Thousands of ruled paper sheets with awful poems written on them go wafting into the kitchen where they float around and fold into paper airplanes, then they land on the center island in perfect rows like jets on a battleship.

Poemjets: We’re here to attack your confidence with this cringey reminisence.

A stolen medalion flies through the air and crashes into the stained glass sconce of an antique wall lamp which is mounted in the living room: Sconce is shattered when it hits it. Shard after shard of red and blue crystal-cracked glass falls into a steel cauldron on a wheeled cart on a line of railroad tracks sitting on the carpet: The cart drives and the cauldron is taken to a forge by the fireplace where the glass is melted down and poured into a mold that shapes it into a skull: This forms the skull of a clueless fool, this is the first and most important skull.

Blue+Red Glass Shards

Blae+rued Gless Sharides

Blaew+Rueld Gleessh Shparides

jBlaw+Ruelld Gleetssh Sparidens

jblaw+rulled Gleethss Spaidens

Jblaw+krulled tGleeths Spidens

Jlaw skulled tleeth Spienes

Jaw skulled Tleeth Spines

Jaw Skull Teeth Spine

Jaw, Skull, Teeth, Spine

Regiondirect→Stage middle; from mouth of humanactor one

(activate buffoon here)

Foollessclue:

I am going to get this job. Before they mock me and I evaporate. I am going to get my job. j’andob→And keep my job once I have it; I will have a job: this job I am applying for, I will not be mocked or evaporate→ I am applying for a lifetime career→My choices are God’s design→I am not a deadbeat+/or wastrel ‘l ‘el ‘l ‘rel ‘l

Regionpoint: High up at stage middle:

Four cabinets above a stove open and reveal a long television screen behind them, the screen plays a panorama video of the inside of a grocery store on a time lapse, rapidly showing shoppers moving around and down aisles through a full day. So the commerce source of groceries plays inside the storage destination of groceries.

Regiondirect→Stage left+downstage

Foolllessclue walks like a desk, heavily skulking: A Huge wooden desk in the office room walks like a heavily skulking crab from its place in the office into the doorway of the kitchen. The desk Stomps and sprouts two claws made of stationary: Protractor joints, fountain pen fingers plus inky venom in nibs and two eyeballs on stalks that are webcams.

Deskrab: I make my next shell out of your hard work and notes. If you ever do any hard work again.

Foollessclue stands in the doorway and contemplates going back to bed. Then an idea comes to him:

Foollessclue: Eureka! Wow! Golly! Lord Almighty! The truth has arrived!

A wrecking ball made out of a soccer ball weighing six tonnes falls from the ceiling and crushes the center island: obliterated the bad poems, marble landing strip, and cabinets, instantly.

Chunks of marble fall into a plexiglass gutter and the camereye view changes

Regiondirect→ Camera is now low and pointed upwards: the reader can see through the stage floor to where a plexiglass gutter runs from stage right to left, with cold green water thrashing through it toward a previously hidden now→revealed underground room where a cashregister with bulldozer tracks and an abacus with centipede feet are seen watching the deluge of marble chunks and water fall from a sewer pipe above them into a trough before them.

Hot water spinning in a blender elsewhere.

Rock and Water dropping top right to bottom left.

Cash register bell ding sounds when the drawer pops→slides.

The cash register reaches out with a thin alu-wire appendage, picks pieces of marble out of the wet junk, and carefully organizes them into its drawer compartments. The abacus keeps record while a gooseneck lamp uses square chalk to write mathematical figures on the wall.

Two haggard bowls spin slowly like tops on the plot of the destroyed center island: Now one is filled with pinecones+dry ice and the other full of burning coals+dominos.

A bookshelf gets into a fistfight with the front door. The front door comes unhinged and walks backwards into the stage right of the set while the bookshell follows it and throws punches with arms made out of desk lamps. Sound: of bulbs shattering on punch-contact. The door topples against the fridge: KO. The Shelf keeps punching with lampfists until the door is busted full of holes, then the door breaks almost in half and crumples on the floor up against the fridge.

Regiondirect→ Camera cuts back up to oblique angle of Foollessclue frantically scribbling ideas in a big leather planner

Foollllessclue: I will invent a way to cure all diseases: I will socialize with the society. I will take pictures of every single thing that has ever existed. I will get a job making Christmas cards.

Foolllllessclue gets on his moped and rushes down to the job office. Each of his pockets is jammed with crumpled social security cards, resumes, a half eaten highschool diploma, and a computer eyeball.

A framed photo falls from the kitchen wall and lands face-down: Nothing breaks. The framephoto begins to crawl around on the floor like a bug and bites at the ankles of a chair which kicks and stomps back. Both of them go in circles around the left side of the kitchen.

The leftover marblewater swirling in the trough that couldn’t be fit in the cash register’s abdomen was scooped up by a bucket held by the abacus and laid out on a table. The gooseneck lamp sprouts a tungsten arm and starts using epoxy and bolts to connect the pieces of marble together, end to end, particle by bit, until the dusty chunks are two long bars. The cash register now takes out a chisel and rapidly sculpts the repaired marble bars into two legs, this makes the first pair of legs.

Marble Chunks Bolts

Mairble Chaunkes Beoelts

Mahirble Caunkes feBoelts

Mahigrbles Cankes febelt

mathigrbles Cankves febet

maThigbles Caves feet

aThighles Calves feet

Thighles Calves Feet

Thighs Calves Feet

Foollllllessclue uses his two marble legs to walk into the job store. But his foot gets caught on the doorway and he trips→and his pockets spill their garbage contents everywhere. ←↑→

A suitcase with eight thick-tired wheels (The front two bigger than the rear six) drives like a semi onto the middle kitchen tile at stage middle: and parks. And honks a horn.

Now there’s a sound of two numberlock clasp unclinching, the hinged clasps pop up: then it’s door-like top half opens on the hinge, it drives back/steers to readjust a bit: top half all open: A water fountain sprays out, cubes of ice and a layer of sleet float in the cold, cold water inside this case. A rope net with many small buckets hung on loops at the knots of its threads, is lowered by a golfclub seesaw, gently, into the case, from where it snatches a small portion of water.

(Certain parts of the rear set walls are actually transparent television screens with translucent texture applied to them to give the illusion of tile and drywall. To give readers in the audience the ability to see scenes in the backyard, the screens are turned off, and are looked through.)

Regionmention: Dry ice smoke still looms around in levels, the whole set has developed it’s own climatology with clouds in layers of various hot smogs. The stormcloud aboutside the windows is now flinging billiard balls onto the roof, and into the windchimes and birdfeeders. The windchimes panic and take flight in an instant, the chime goes off stroking through the sky like a squid, hanger upwards, decorations and metal pipes flexing like thick kite streamers beneath. One of the square metal birdfeeders falls from its hanger and starts spinning aggressively on the grass like a top, then starts cutting the soil like a tornado, then shoots off like a flying saucer, and crashes through the window: slowed by the exploding glass: drops into the sink with a bang-loud clang.

Birdfeeder: I was made to feed dinosaurs, but now I’m run aground.

The hail is destructive: Little bombastic billiard balls coated with razor blades and ice start to punch like bullets through the ceiling of the set, fall down on the floor, and shatter out as colored dust and airborne metal while the kitchen tiles start sliding left like a conveyorbelt.

Regiondirect: → (Pathetic here)

Foolllllllessclue: I need a new pair of arms. See? These two limbs are a fool’s impliments.

The kitchen tiles start to undulate aggressively like a solid white ocean.

Kitchentiles: Out! GET OUT! No more of this nonsense. I am meant to be walked on, I am not a landfill.

The Air Fryer’s door falls open and the ExerMach Forklift grasps and moves the tray of melted, smoking, burning leather-walletpile up into ↑ the air. A sentient cloud of smog floats down like a jellyfish and mingles with the rising fumes of fired leather. The sinkfaucet tries to spray the wallet tray with water to put the flames out but only succeeds at waterboarding the birdfeeder in the sink.

A huge pair of hands both wearing motorcycle gloves descends from the ceiling; fingers pointed at the back of the stage, one hand at stage right+one at left, they descend on the rack of burnt leather. A cabinet door above bangs excitedly. The blender swirls hot water. The ExerciseForklift bows and condescends→moves to stage left→into the shadow a bit. Readers see the gloved hands scoop up the leather and stretch it: Outward streetching burnt, charred moneywallet, streeetching out a whole rectangular platterworth. Down below, hot coals and smokey dry ice are getting flung everywhere when the two bowls get mad and attack each other. Up above the GlovedHands form the hot wallet material into two arms→starting at the elbows and strexpanding outward toward the hand and shoulders. A flying pair of tongs with helicopter rotors hovers over and helps be blacksmith→it pulls and sculpts out the leather to form two palms and ten fingers. A third hand holding a bottle of wood glue descends between and squirts it in the folds of the leather and a serpent made out of thick twine with a blowdryer for a head is charmed by a tornado siren to rise out of a low cabinet. The blowdryer snake sprays heat onto the glue to dry it: This is the first pair of arms.

Wallet Leather Ash

Wallcet Leathear Ansh

Wallicet fLeatohearm Andsh

bwallicep florhearm hAndsh

ballicep forhearm handsh

bllicep forearm hands

Blicep forearm Hand

Bicep Forearm Hand

Foollllllllessclue: I will use my arms to get a job making Christmas cards. I will mail my Christmas cards to every person on Earth. Everyone will love me. I’m going to make a lot of money. Money will be given to me out of love. People will pitty me. I will make money from love.

Stage right side of the kitchen implodes in a shower of blasted apart ceramic plates, tossed around silverware, twigs + leaves off tree branches, atomized drywall; flung up tiles. The whole upper floor comes down

Regiondirect→

A set of bedroom furniture is dropped into the destruction. a king size bed plummets with sheets+blanket flapping.

The Cash Register, Abacus, and Lamp respond with alarm to the sound of destruction above. A dark storm cloud, floating not more than 15 feet above the ground, coasts through the exposed hole in the house and then starts to rapidly pour floodsurge levels of water into the kitchen scene. Eventually the water reaches the translucent gutter and starts to pour from high right to low left into the secret room belonging to the Abacus, Lamp, and Register.

Abacus: We’re going to drown. I guess I can count the water by volume.

Lamp: This downpour is erasing my chalk. I can’t work in a flood.

Register: I will rust and jam shut. The marble will be lost within me.

A huge billboard with the words “Too Bad So Sad" and "I Don’t Feel Bad” written in bright blue on a yellow background crashes through the stage wall from right to left like a battering→ram: tosses bedsheets, wood and tree chunks around while swinging across the set.

Regiondirect→From stage right (With happiness)

Foollessclue runs into the kitchen waving around a stack of Christmas cards while loudly exclaiming “I have the solution! I have the answer! I will find success and happiness!” Right as the ceiling collapses and buries him under the entire set. The water continues to rise until the whole room is a flooded half-floating landfill. Burnt things and wall studs floating on rain. The lights extinguish. Try again.

[sk1fanfiction]

Chapter Three: A Cracked Reflection

With Hogwarts permanently cut off from the outside world, the summer holidays are relatively quiet and uneventful for the Potters, at least, if you don't count Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts.

For Tee and Mordred, however, a thorough investigation of the third-floor corridor turns up some long-held secrets. Read from the beginning at FFN | AO3!

"Devil's Snare," noted Mordred. "Looks a bit singed."

"It's a bit of an expert job, for Potter, isn't it?" asked Tee. That was what he would have done. Ruby had never mentioned her brother going rogue while he was in the diary. That meant this must have happened their third year, or, more likely, their first year.

Maybe this is my handiwork.

There was no way out but back the way they'd come; or through. Tee chose the latter, emerging into a blindingly bright chamber. Above them was an assortment of keys of crystal, gems, or precious metals fluttering around. A few brooms were leaned against the wall, collecting dust.

"Try that brass one there," said Mordred, pointing up at the only drab key. As Tee floated up to get it, he groused: "Who came up with this? Who did they mean to keep out? Eleven-year-olds?"

They went through the next rooms quickly, as the stench of rotting troll followed them throughout. Eventually, they wound up in a cold, dark room in the dungeons. Tee fumbled out a few straifs with a piece of chalk he had in his pockets to light the sconces, then turned towards the center of the room once more.

He started instantly, his hand wrapping around the edge of a sconce to keep him steady. His own eyes stared back at him, dark and knowing. The wizard in the mirror was as perfect a copy as the Boggart had always been, but this one blazed with a terrible aliveness.

[w3yamin]

Gus-Khrustalny is a famous center of crystal production, whose traditions go back many decades. Crystal products from this city are considered the standard of quality, sophistication and refined artistic style. The Gus-Khrustalny plant offers a huge selection of lamps that can transform any interior. The range includes large chandeliers that are ideal for spacious rooms: living rooms, halls, banquet halls. Their luxury and grandeur impress even the most demanding customers. Also in the catalog you can find elegant sconces - a great solution for decorating walls and creating soft interior lighting. No less popular are floor lamps and table lamps, which will become spectacular accents in any room. They not only attract attention with their design, but also provide comfortable local lighting. For connoisseurs of classics, the plant offers bronze chandeliers that perfectly combine the nobility of metal and the sophistication of crystal. You can find out how to order these exquisite products on the official website: #Official_site_of_the_plant #Gus_Khrustalny #Salon_Khrustal https://salon-krystal.ru/

[blog-with-ashok]

Hanging Lights: Add Style and Warmth to Your Home

Lighting plays a key role in creating the perfect ambiance for your home. Among the many lighting options available, hanging lights stand out for their elegance and versatility. Whether you're decorating your living room, dining area, or bedroom, hanging ceiling lights can enhance the space and reflect your personal style. In this blog, we’ll explore the benefits of these lights, different types of hanging lamps, and tips on choosing the right ones for your home.

Why Choose Hanging Lights?

Hanging lights are more than just a practical source of illumination. Here’s why they are a favourite for homeowners:

Stylish Design: Hanging lights come in countless styles, shapes, and materials, making it easy to find one that matches your home’s décor.

Space-Saving: These lights are suspended from the ceiling, leaving floors and tables free for other purposes.

Versatility: Whether you want soft, ambient lighting or a bold statement piece, hanging ceiling lights offer endless possibilities.

Focus and Function: Many hanging lamps direct light to specific areas, making them perfect for tasks like dining, cooking, or reading.

Types of Hanging Ceiling Lights

There are many types of hanging lights to suit different spaces and needs. Here are some popular ones:

Pendant LightsPendant lights are one of the most common types of hanging lamps. They are simple, versatile, and work well in any room. You can use a single pendant light for a minimalist look or cluster several for a dramatic effect.

ChandeliersChandeliers are grand and eye-catching, making them perfect for larger rooms like dining areas or living rooms. Modern chandeliers come in sleek, contemporary designs, while classic options feature intricate details and crystals.

Industrial Hanging LightsWith a focus on raw materials like metal and exposed bulbs, industrial-style lights add character to kitchens or loft-style spaces. They often have a vintage or edgy feel, perfect for modern interiors.

Lantern-Style LightsLantern-inspired hanging ceiling lights are timeless and work well in both traditional and rustic settings. They create a warm, cosy glow, ideal for entryways or patios.

Linear Suspension LightsThese long, horizontal lights are perfect for dining tables, kitchen islands, or workspaces. They even offer lighting and a modern look.

Drum Pendant LightsFeaturing a fabric or metal drum-shaped shade, these lights add a touch of sophistication. They are great for bedrooms or living rooms, where you want a balance of style and function.

How to Choose the Perfect Hanging Lights

Consider the Room

For dining areas, choose lights that focus on the table and create a warm atmosphere.

In the kitchen, look for bright and functional lights, such as pendant lights over the island.

For bedrooms, opt for softer lighting that adds a cosy feel.

Match Your StyleYour hanging lights should complement the overall décor. For modern homes, choose sleek and minimalist designs. For traditional spaces, go for intricate and ornate fixtures.

Size and ScaleThe size of the light should match the room’s proportions. A large chandelier works well in a spacious living room but can overwhelm a small bedroom.

Adjustable HeightMany hanging ceiling lights allow you to adjust the height. This is useful for ensuring the light fits perfectly in your space, especially over dining tables or kitchen counters.

Lighting TypeDecide whether you need task lighting, ambient lighting, or a mix of both. Some hanging lamps offer dimmable options, allowing you to customise the light according to your needs.

Tips for Styling Hanging Lights

Create a Focal PointUse a bold chandelier or a cluster of pendant lights as the centrepiece of the room. This draws attention and adds personality.

Layer LightingCombine hanging ceiling lights with floor lamps, table lamps, or wall sconces to create a layered and balanced lighting design.

Use MultiplesFor larger areas like kitchen islands or dining tables, consider using multiple hanging lights evenly spaced for a cohesive look.

Play with MaterialsExplore options like glass, metal, wood, or fabric to find a light fixture that complements your furniture and colour scheme.

Final Thoughts

Hanging lights are a fantastic way to brighten your home while adding a touch of elegance and charm. With so many styles to choose from, you can find the perfect hanging lamp to suit your taste and needs. Whether you want a statement chandelier for your living room or sleek pendant lights for your kitchen, these fixtures can transform any space.

Explore your options, consider your room’s style and purpose, and let hanging ceiling lights illuminate your home in style. With the right choice, you’ll not only brighten your rooms but also make them feel more inviting and beautiful!

[angieshome]

Classic Bar Room Interior Design and Decoration -

Bar Area Interior Solution | Bars is a focal and exciting space in a home | where we like to design the bar ! The Room the stools - the wall back unit and Accessories | bar accessories and glasses.

All products available at Angie homes .co

EMI options available

Bar Table - Metal/ Wood / Fabric / Marble top

Bar Chairs – Metal / Fabric / Foam

Chandelier - Handing Lights / Metal / Glass

Mirror - Crystal Clear Silver frame & glass

Sculpture - Fiber

Console - Metal / Glass

Cutlery - Metal / fiber

Glass - Glasses / Cutlery

Dinner set / Glasses / Cutlery

Style: Modern & Contemporary

Artwork - Wooden frame / Painting

Vases - Glass

Type: BAR AREA INTERIOR SOLITION

BAR AREA INTERIOR SOLITION - Luxurious Bar Table & Chair, Chandelier, Table Lamps, And Wall Sconces to Light Up Your Bar Area, Room and Accessories Such As Art Work, Sculpture, Mirror, Carpet Etc. To Give Your Space Which Will Reflect Your Personality.

[dynamicelectricworld]

Your living room is more than just a place to relax—it’s the heart of your home where you entertain, unwind, and create memories. Choosing the right lighting can elevate the ambiance and aesthetic of this space, making it warm, inviting, and stylish. At Dynamic Electric World, we bring you a range of fancy lights that blend innovation with elegance, perfect for transforming any living room into a sophisticated haven. Here’s a guide to selecting the best fancy lights for your living room, so you can find the perfect match for your style and needs.

1. Types of Fancy Lights for the Living Room

Fancy light for living room have evolved, and you’ll find an impressive array of styles that suit any decor. Here are some popular types to consider:

Chandeliers: Chandeliers add grandeur and sophistication. They come in various designs, from classic crystal to modern, geometric styles. Ideal for larger spaces, chandeliers create a focal point in the room.

Pendant Lights: Pendant lights are versatile, offering focused lighting over a specific area. Great for hanging over coffee tables or accentuating specific seating zones, they come in various shapes, sizes, and colors.

Wall Sconces: Sconces can enhance your living room’s coziness and provide ambient lighting. Placing sconces on either side of artwork or a mirror can add depth to your wall decor.

Floor Lamps: Floor lamps are both functional and decorative, making them great additions for reading nooks or darker corners. From modern minimalist to intricate designs, they offer a flexible option that complements any interior.

2. Choosing the Right Light Fixture for Your Style

Modern Minimalist: If you prefer clean lines and a clutter-free aesthetic, opt for sleek pendant lights or geometric chandeliers. Look for metal finishes like brushed nickel or matte black to enhance the contemporary feel.

Traditional and Classic: For a classic look, go with crystal chandeliers or ornate sconces. These pieces bring elegance and a timeless charm that’s perfect for more formal spaces.

Bohemian and Eclectic: Play with textures and colors by choosing unique pendant lights or lampshades made from rattan, glass, or fabric. This style lets you mix and match, adding a touch of personality and warmth.

Industrial: If your living room has exposed brick, concrete, or metallic finishes, industrial-style lighting like metal chandeliers, pipe sconces, or filament bulbs can add a raw and rustic appeal.

Dynamic Electric World offers a diverse range of styles, making it easy to find lighting that complements your unique decor.

3. Consider the Functionality and Mood

Lighting plays a crucial role in setting the mood. Before making a choice, consider the function and feel you want to achieve in your living room:

Ambient Lighting: This is the main source of light in your living room. A well-designed chandelier or flush-mounted ceiling light can provide soft, even lighting that fills the space without overwhelming.

Accent Lighting: Highlight certain areas or decor items with accent lights. Use wall sconces to emphasize artwork or corner floor lamps to create a cozy nook.

Task Lighting: This is essential if you read or work in your living room. Adjustable floor lamps or reading lights near sofas and chairs can offer directed lighting, perfect for focused tasks.

Dynamic Electric World’s selection includes options for all lighting purposes, allowing you to layer light effectively and create the ambiance you desire.

4. Energy Efficiency Matters

Beyond aesthetics, it’s essential to consider energy efficiency. LED lights are an excellent choice for their long lifespan and lower energy consumption compared to traditional bulbs. At Dynamic Electric World, we offer a range of LED fancy lights that provide a warm and inviting glow without spiking your electricity bill. Our LED options are available in various color temperatures to match any mood, from cool whites for a modern vibe to warm tones that add a cozy, homely feel.

5. Tips for Arranging Your Fancy Lights

Balance Your Lighting: Avoid clustering all light sources in one part of the room. Spread lights evenly across the space for a balanced and well-lit environment.

Layer Your Lighting: Combine different types of lighting, such as a chandelier for ambient light, sconces for accent lighting, and floor lamps for task lighting.

Mind the Scale: Make sure your light fixture matches the scale of your room. A large chandelier in a small room can feel overwhelming, while a small fixture in a large room may go unnoticed.

6. Why Choose Dynamic Electric World for Fancy Living Room Lights?

At Dynamic Electric World, we understand that lighting is a key element in home decor. We offer:

Quality Products: Our fancy lights are crafted with high-quality materials to ensure durability, safety, and long-lasting performance.

Wide Variety: From classic to contemporary, our collection includes designs that cater to every taste and style.

Energy-Efficient Solutions: We believe in sustainability and offer energy-efficient lighting solutions that save both energy and money.

Customer Support: Our team is dedicated to helping you find the right lighting solution, offering expert advice to ensure you make the best choice.

Bring Your Living Room to Life with Dynamic Electric World

The right Fancy light for living room can completely transform your living room, enhancing both functionality and aesthetic appeal. Whether you’re looking for a bold chandelier to make a statement or subtle sconces for an inviting glow, Dynamic Electric World has something for everyone. Explore our extensive collection to find the perfect fancy lights for your living room and make your space a true reflection of your style and personality.