#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."

[imaginedreamwrite]

Hello, I want to share this idea with you that I had from the Turkish TV show... I don't if you know about Turkish soaps...

So, reader is District Attorney’s daughter and Steve is the son of the mafia/mob.. they’re both artists and met in same art school. They started with love hate kinda relationship, then some mutual pining but they still can't tell each other they’re in love because its forbidden. They’re from two different worlds and in love. Steve doesn't have any criminal record YET but he's still a mob's son...

I'm just sharing it with you, if you want to write a one shot perhaps turn it into a series... whatever... or maybe you won't consider giving it shot.. that's okay...

Thankyou for providing a safe space for everybody and let me share it with you...❤

Bad For Me

It’s immaculate, the dark walls that are encompassed by rich gold trim around the baseboards and crown moulding. There’s a oversized chandelier hanging above the bed with teardrop crystals and the same gold trim that surrounds the room, the base of the chandelier that holds it against the ceiling is carved and etched metal that mirrors the sconces on the wall.

The bed is an Alaskan king, the size would have seemed almost outlandish if the room was smaller, but as it is the bedroom is as expansive as you would have imagined.

The bed is made of sturdy wood, dark to match the colour of the paint, with a curved headboard that rests high against the wall, almost like the back of a throne, and there’s two distinct round studded holes that you can only imagine would be for your restraints. There is a section of padded material to keep you from injuring your head should you throw yourself against it.

The rest of the room is as breathtaking and stunning to match, across from the bed is a fireplace that’s still burning leftover logs. There are walk-in closets set against the right half of the room, both are placed precisely between two floor to ceiling mirrors. Across from the closets is the ensuite bathroom with the shower and bathtub placated flush against each other a design, he had claimed, was to bring an air of intimacy to the relationship.

And to finish off the room, there was a chaise set before the windows, the furniture designed to be the focal point for his artwork. He had claimed, again, that it was meant for intimacy.

“And I will be drawing and sketching you.” He promised you that everything in the room would come to good use.

The heavy door opened and his footsteps were heard on the hardwood floor. You had stood before the windows, glancing out at the property below, so entranced by the prospect of escaping.

“There is no running from me.” His voice had hit your ears, the scent of his cologne invaded your senses and you had wished you hated it more. “Why so somber, my wife?”

He was the son of a ruthless Don, and you were the daughter of the district attorney. He was attending art school where you had taken a few classes, your main focus was classical and contemporary dance while he was dabbling in sketching, drawing and painting.

You didn’t know who he was, he had only ever given you his middle name but he knew who you were. He had you figured out on day one, and you knew you should have left his presence before he got in too deep.

It was your fault, it was your fault that you were here.

“Steve please don’t do this.” You begged him, you pleaded with him to let you go. “Choose someone else, anyone else.”

“You know the tradition of bride kidnapping?” He brushed your hair off your shoulder, his large hands had come to rest on your waist as his lips met your jaw.

“You could have anyone else-“

“The groom snatches the woman he wants as his bride to save her from any other suitors. It’s most common in other parts of the world, but its a practice that suits me well.” He was possessive yet tender, kissing your neck as he pulled you back flush against him.

“You’re the most dangerous man on the east coast, you could have-“ you stopped breathing, negating your reaction to his fingers tugging on the silk tie that held your robe around you.

“I know what I am,” he hummed, his cock twitching against your ass, “I know what I want. I know who I want, that’s why I had to take you.”

“We met at school, we didn’t-“

“I know how you felt about me. Before you knew what I was, we had gone on a date. We had fun and you let me taste you. Did you really think-“ Steve groaned in your ear, hands running up your abdomen to your bare breasts.

“-I could handle just one taste?” Steve’s hands grasped your breasts, his fingers squeezing as you moaned and pliantly pushed back into him. “You are not the kind of woman who only requires one taste.”

“Please…” you whined, cratering with your willpower. “Steve…”

“Yes, Mrs. Rogers.” He nipped your neck and let go of your breasts only to sweep you into his arms and take you back toward the bed. “I will feast on your sweet pussy again. But…”

Steve leaned back and looked down at you, your chest heaving and your legs spreading to reveal the dampness of your thighs.

“I think its time,” Steve pulled you up and switched positions with you, this time it was him laying back on the bed, “you ride my face.”

“Steve I-I can’t…I’ve never-“

“Yes, darling wife.” He snatched your wrist and pulled you forward, dragging you until you had sat on his chest. “Don’t leave your husband starving. Ride my face.”

He settled his hands on your hips and dragged your forward until you hovered above him. “Don’t hold back, fuck yourself on my tongue.”

[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!

[umbylievable]

Yzzbet and Manna - Part 1

Sonja stared up at the big black walls of the temple and swallowed. It wasn’t like she wasn’t familiar with religious buildings; she had been in churches enough back home. But something about the Yzzbetian temple gave her pause.

It was tall and impressive, standing high over the nearby buildings. The spire marked the skyline on the postcards she’d once sent. The size of it reminded her of a castle. The brick of the walls was surprisingly smooth, the edges rounded by either skill or time. Reddish glass backed windows framed with dark iron scroll work. The ornate steel doors dwarfed her in size, equal parts majestic and impressive. Blue-black flowers grew all around the temple, brushing up against the sides of the building and creating the look of a deep dark ocean. Next to it, the urban sprawl of the city looked wildly out of place.

A bike whizzing by behind her reminded her of where she was. Sonja took a deep breath and approached the temple doors. With both hands, she pushed them open, grunting a little with the effort, and crossed into the vestibule.

The inside was somehow more intimidating than the outside. The floor was paved in a dark reflective stone with such a high polish that it cast her image in it, like looking into black glass. Blue flames burned in sconces lining the walls and dangling from the ceiling. She expected rows of pews but instead found lines of ornate cushions in reds and purples. To her left stood a series of shelves full of what looked like artifacts, in various burnished metals. To her right was a big vase, larger even than she was. A childish impulse beckoned her to look inside, but there was nothing. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, honestly.

“Hello?” she called, stepping forward.

No answer. Her footsteps echoed across the stone. She proceeded to the heavy stone altar before her and peeked behind it, seeing a large rectangular pool of crystal clear water, marked by an island in the middle guarded by a stoic looking statue. She leaned forward a bit to get a better look.

“Can I help you?”

Sonja jumped at the sound of the voice. Somehow the ethereal stillness of the temple had convinced her she was alone. A silly notion, she thought, in a church in the middle of the day. She turned to face her addresser.

“Yes, actually. I’m getting married soon and I’m admittedly a little nervous…”

“So you’ve come for counseling?”

The priestess swept forward to the altar, the swish of her robes the only other sound in the room. With a snap of her fingers, she lit the tall black candle at the center of the altar. The flame flickered blue for a moment before settling to a typical orange.

Sonja shook her head.

“No,” she said. “I mean at least not right now. Not without my fiancee here. No, I’m here to learn.”

“Oh?” A little smile lit up the priestess’s face. She was a large woman, with broad shoulders and a soft face. Her blue-black hair peeked out from underneath her headscarf, the purple hue of which complimented the deep dark color of her skin. Sonja couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was. It felt like everyone in the demonaian realm was beautiful. Was it something in the water?

“I’m human—I mean obviously, you can see that—and so I don’t know a lot about his—your---religion. I’d like to learn more about it before we get married.”

“A noble pursuit,” said the priestess, “and one I would love to help you with. So often, it is only the children that come to me for our stories. I think it would benefit us all to hear them again, from time to time. To remind us where we’ve come from, and what it all means.”

She moved away from the altar and to some cushions on the floor, gesturing for Sonja to follow. The two of them sat down and the priestess waited patiently for Sonja to get comfortable before she began.

“I had better start you off with our beginnings. Our story begins several billion years ago, when the universe was an expanse of emptiness. When there was nothing else, there was the Drist. Not a being, persay, but also not a thing. An entity at the center of an empty universe. And within the Drist was contained everything. Over time it produced stars and planets, black holes and asteroids.

“One day the swirling of the Drist birthed a being, and his name was Alec. From the time he was born, Alec had a singular interest: to not be alone in the universe.

“Rather than wait for the Drist to create another, Alec came up with an idea. If he came from the Drist, he reasoned, then surely other creatures existed within it as well. So he reached into the Drist and from it pulled two more beings, and he named them Yzzbet and Manna.

“Yzzbet and Manna were as Alec’s children, and he cherished them. So much did he love them that he became convinced they all would be happier with even more children. So he reached into the Drist again and pulled out an entire world, and he filled it with people for Yzzbet and Manna to lord over. These people he called the deristians, because they were the people of the Drist.

“The deristians loved and exalted their gods, and in return Alec, Yzzbet, and Manna taught them many things, including how to build shelter, seek food, shape families, and make art. And they used these gifts to venerate them more, singing songs and making paintings in dedication to their stewards. For a long time, this is how it remained. But things cannot stay the same forever. All things change. Even gods.”

________________________________________________________________________

Yzzbet laid upon the edge of the scrying pool, lazily dragging yzzr fingers through the images of happy, smiling deristians. Yzz smiled back at them, watching the slender figures dancing and twirling in their village square.

“You don’t have to keep watching them. They don’t go anywhere.”

Manna stepped up to the edge of the scrying pool and took a seat beside Yzzbet.

“I know,” yzz sighed. “But I like seeing them. They look so peaceful and content there...don’t you like watching them?”

“I do. But I have other things to do with my time, too.”

“Such as?”

Manna held out his hand, and between his fingers sprouted a beautiful red flower. Yzzbet sat up and gently took it from him. Yzz inhaled its scent, a fragrance of warmth and spice.

“It’s wondrous...what do you call it?”

“It doesn’t have a name yet. I was thinking of calling it something good like ‘Manna’s Flower.’”

Yzzbet snorted. “That’s the best you have?”

Manna nudged yzzr playfully with his elbow. “Oh? And I suppose you have something better in mind?”

“’Big Blowhard Blossom’ has a certain ring to it.”

“Shut up!” He shoved yzzr over, grinning while yzz giggled. “Come on,” he said, getting his legs under him, “they like it when we walk among them. Makes them feel special.”

He held out his hand and pulled Yzzbet up. For a moment, yzzr hand lingered in his, and yzz felt yzzr heart quicken. But just as quickly, his hand slipped away, and Manna was on the move again, the tails of his coat fanning out behind him. Yzzbet jogged to catch up, then sidled up alongside him as they made their way to the door that separated the underworld from the land of the mortals.

It always took a minute for their eyes to adjust as they stepped into the warm light of the sun. Ahead of them lay a vast expanse of green, and upon it stood their devout followers, standing shoulder to shoulder and waiting with bated breath for a word.

Manna spread his arms open wide, grinning from ear to ear.

“My beloved deristians, rejoice! Your gods have come to walk among you, to bless you with the magnificence of our power.” He leaned down and swept his hand through the grass, and where he touched, his red flowers sprang up from the ground. A chorus of “oohs” and “aahs” erupted from the crowd. A child broke ranks, pushing past her elders, and ran to Manna’s feet. He hoisted her effortlessly onto his shoulders.

“What a darling little thing. Yzzbet, look at her, a child of our children! I think that makes you a grandparent.”

Yzzbet laughed, a sound as clear and pure as the tinkling of a silver bell.

“Does that not make you a grandfather, Manna?”

“Details!”

He progressed towards the crowd and they parted to make way, bowing their heads and whispering prayers of thanks and adulation. Yzzbet followed suit, reaching out to touch them a cite words of blessing. Together, the two gods made their way into the town limits, the crowd snaking along behind them.

Through the streets ran dyed paper banners, and colorful powder peppered the streets. Deristians stood in doorways with baskets of it, and threw it upon their gods and the crowd as they passed, showering them in a cloud of pinks, blues, oranges, and greens. In the center of town, dancers spun, wearing gleeful masks and headdresses. Atop Manna’s shoulders, the little girl squealed, and he carefully set her down to join the dancers, spinning like a top.

The town elder stepped forward, bowing his head and holding out his hands. Yzzbet touched him gently, skating yzzr fingers across his palms.

“Be stilled,” yzz cooed. “What manner of celebration is this?”

“We wanted to give thanks to you both for our abundance. Our beautiful hillsides are green because you will it. And, well, the winter has ended, and the children were getting restless.”

Manna chuckled.

“Well that’s as good a reason to hold a festival as any. Well, if its a celebration, let us celebrate! Break open the wine and beer and let us rejoice!”

He threw up his arms, and the crowd around them roared in approval. Soon the square was awash in song and revelry, lasting well into the night. It was a joyous day for them all.

Well, perhaps not all.

Away in the underworld, Alec looked upon the scrying pool and frowned. When was the last time they lifted his name in song? Begged for his presence, his touch, his gaze. When was the last time the deristians cared about him?

Scowling, he dragged his hand through the pool, erasing the image. If these people wanted Yzzbet and Manna so badly, they could have them. He could start again. And this time, he thought, he would not make the same mistake.

[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.

[kaashni-co-in]

Gothic interior design: dark and dramatic

Gothic interior design is not for the faint of heart. It is a style that embraces the dark and dramatic, creating spaces that are moody and atmospheric. This style is inspired by Gothic architecture, which features pointed arches, vaulted ceilings, and intricate ornamentation. Gothic interior design incorporates these elements in a variety of ways to create a space that is both beautiful and haunting.

One of the key features of Gothic interior design is the use of dark colors. Black, deep purples, and rich reds are often used to create a sense of drama and mystery. These colors are typically paired with metallic accents, such as brass or copper, to add a touch of glamour and luxury to the space.

Another key features of Gothic interior design is the use of ornate and elaborate details. This can include things like intricate carvings on furniture, intricate patterns on wallpaper, and stained glass windows. The overall effect is one of luxury and elegance.

Another important element of Gothic interior design is the use of ornate furnishings and decor. This can include intricately carved wooden furniture, tapestries with rich patterns and textures, and chandeliers with dripping crystals. These elements add to the overall sense of opulence and grandeur that is often associated with Gothic style.

Dramatic lighting is another key element of Gothic interior design. Candles, chandeliers, and wall sconces are often used to create pools of light and shadow, adding to the sense of mystery and intrigue. These fixtures are often ornate and dramatic in themselves, featuring intricate metalwork or crystal accents.

Gothic interior design is not for the faint of heart. It's a style that requires a certain level of commitment and a willingness to embrace the darker side of things. But for those who are drawn to its dramatic and atmospheric qualities, it can be an incredibly rewarding and inspiring style to work with.

While some may associate Gothic interior design with horror films or spooky haunted houses, it can also be a luxurious and sophisticated style when done right. For example, ornate detailing on furniture and architectural elements, such as arched doorways and vaulted ceilings, can add a sense of grandeur to a Gothic-inspired space.

Gothic interior design also incorporates a variety of textures and materials to create a rich and layered look. Velvet, leather, and silk are often used to create a sense of luxury, while stone and wrought iron can be used to add a sense of weight and durability to the space.

Overall, Gothic interior design is a style that is perfect for those who want to create a dark and dramatic space that exudes a sense of luxury and opulence. Whether you're looking to transform your entire home or simply add a touch of Gothic style to your living room or bedroom, this style is sure to make a statement.

[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.

[dynamicelectricworld]

When it comes to interior design, lighting is often underestimated. It’s the secret ingredient that can transform a living room from ordinary to extraordinary. At Dynamic Electric World, we believe that the right lighting does more than just illuminate—it sets the mood, enhances decor, and creates an inviting atmosphere for guests. In this blog, we'll explore the magic of fancy lights for living rooms and how you can incorporate them into your home to create a stunning space.

Why Fancy Lights Are Essential for Your Living Room

Your living room is more than just a place to sit and relax. It’s the heart of your home, where you entertain guests, spend time with family, and unwind after a long day. To reflect this versatility, you need a lighting setup that is equally flexible. Fancy lights come in a variety of shapes, sizes, and designs, allowing you to create ambiance, highlight key features, and bring out the best in your living space. “fancy lights for living room”

At Dynamic Electric World, we understand that every living room has its own personality. That’s why we offer a wide range of fancy lighting options that cater to both traditional and contemporary tastes. Whether you’re after a bold statement piece or a subtle glow, our collection will help you find the perfect match.

Choosing the Right Fancy Lights for Your Living Room

Selecting the right fancy lights can be a daunting task, but with a few expert tips, you can make the perfect choice for your space:

1. Consider the Size and Layout of Your Room

Before you select any lighting, it’s essential to consider the size of your living room. If you have a large space, a single light fixture might not be enough. Instead, consider layering different types of lights to create depth and dimension. A combination of chandeliers, pendant lights, and floor lamps can give your room a balanced lighting setup.

On the other hand, if your living room is smaller, opt for minimalist designs that don’t overpower the space. Recessed ceiling lights or wall-mounted sconces can provide ample illumination without crowding the room.

2. Layer Lighting for Maximum Effect

To create a cozy and inviting atmosphere, layering your lighting is key. Instead of relying on one central source, blend different types of lights for varied effects:

Ambient lighting: This is the main source of light in your living room, usually coming from ceiling fixtures or large chandeliers. Ambient light fills the room, allowing you to move around comfortably.

Task lighting: For specific activities like reading or working, task lighting is essential. Place table lamps or floor lamps near your seating areas to provide focused light for these tasks.

Accent lighting: Fancy lights truly shine when used as accent pieces. Use wall sconces, LED strips, or small pendants to highlight artwork

, architectural details, or decor elements that you want to draw attention to. This type of lighting adds depth and drama to your living room, making it feel more dynamic and personalized.

3. Choose the Right Style

The style of your fancy lights should complement the overall decor of your living room. At Dynamic Electric World, we offer a wide variety of designs to suit every taste. Here are some popular styles to consider:

Modern Minimalist: Sleek, simple lines and neutral colors define this style. Opt for geometric pendant lights or recessed ceiling fixtures that blend seamlessly with a modern living room design.

Industrial Chic: Exposed bulbs, metal finishes, and raw materials are the hallmarks of this trend. For a living room with a more rustic or urban vibe, go for industrial-style chandeliers or vintage-inspired filament bulbs.

Classic Elegance: For those who love a touch of luxury, ornate chandeliers or crystal fixtures can bring a sense of sophistication to your space. These lights make a bold statement and are perfect for traditional or opulent living rooms.

Bohemian Vibe: If your living room has a relaxed, eclectic feel, woven rattan pendant lights, beaded chandeliers, or Moroccan lanterns can add a boho touch. These lights bring warmth and creativity to any space.

4. Energy Efficiency

Fancy doesn’t mean wasteful! At Dynamic Electric World, we prioritize energy-efficient lighting solutions that not only look good but are also eco-friendly. LED lights, for instance, consume far less electricity than traditional bulbs while offering the same level of brightness. Additionally, they last much longer, reducing the need for frequent replacements. Many of our fancy lights incorporate LED technology, allowing you to have both style and sustainability in your living room.

Why Choose Dynamic Electric World for Your Fancy Lights?

At Dynamic Electric World, we pride ourselves on offering high-quality, stylish lighting solutions tailored to meet your individual needs. Our extensive range of fancy lights for living rooms includes everything from bold statement pieces to understated designs that complement any decor. Plus, our team of experts is always on hand to help you select the right lights, ensuring that your living room reflects your personal style.

Our commitment to customer satisfaction goes beyond just selling lights. We provide installation services, so you don’t have to worry about the hassle of setting up your new lighting fixtures. Whether you’re renovating your living room or simply refreshing the space with new lighting, Dynamic Electric World is your one-stop shop for all your lighting needs.

Final Thoughts

Fancy lights have the power to transform your living room into a space that feels both luxurious and inviting. By selecting the right fixtures and layering your lighting, you can create a room that’s perfect for both relaxation and entertainment. At Dynamic Electric World, we offer a wide selection of fancy lights that cater to all tastes and styles, helping you to bring your vision to life.

Ready to brighten up your living room? Visit Dynamic Electric World today and explore our stunning collection of fancy lights designed to enhance every corner of your home. Let your lighting be a reflection of your unique style and personality!

[i-dekors]

Raise Your Space: Fundamental Ways to paralyze Home Decor

With regards to making a delightful and welcoming residing space, home decor assumes an essential part. Whether you're decorating another home or redoing your ongoing one, the right decor decisions can change your space into a shelter of solace and style. Here is a manual for assist you with accomplishing the ideal home decor.

Characterize Your Style

The most important phase in home decor is to characterize your own style. Might it be said that you are attracted to current moderation, natural appeal, or diverse bohemian energies? Distinguishing your style helps in organizing a firm search for your space. Peruse magazines, sites, and web-based entertainment stages for motivation, and make a temperament board to envision your thoughts.

Pick a Variety Range

A very much picked variety range establishes the vibe for your home. Unbiased tones like beige, dark, and white proposition an immortal and flexible establishment, while intense varieties can add character and energy. Consider utilizing variety hypothesis to choose shades that complete one another and make the ideal climate. For example, delicate blues and greens inspire quietness, while dynamic reds and oranges can empower a room.

Consolidate Practical Furnishings

Furniture isn't just about style yet in addition about usefulness. Pick pieces that fit the size of your room and fill useful needs. For little spaces, pick multi-utilitarian furniture like couch beds or extendable eating tables. In bigger rooms, make unmistakable zones with various furniture game plans to upgrade the stream and ease of use of the space.

Add Surface and Layering

Surface adds profundity and interest to your home decor. Blend and match materials like wood, metal, glass, and materials to establish a powerful climate. Layer mats, toss cushions, and drapes to add warmth and solace. Consider consolidating normal components like plants or stone to bring a dash of the outside inside.

Lighting Matters

Lighting is fundamental for setting the temperament and featuring your decor. Consolidate surrounding, errand, and highlight lighting to accomplish a sufficiently bright and welcoming space. Use crystal fixtures or pendant lights as central focuses, and add table lights or wall sconces for extra layers of brightening. Remember about normal light; sheer drapes or blinds can assist with controlling how much daylight going into your room.

Customize with Craftsmanship and Frill

Individual contacts cause a house to feel like a home. Show craftsmanship, family photographs, or interesting collectibles that mirror your character. Adornments like jars, candles, and decorative plate can upgrade your decor and tie the room together. Simply be aware of messiness; toning it down would be ideal with regards to adorning.

Keep up with Equilibrium and Amicability

Equilibrium and congruity are vital to an outwardly satisfying decor. Guarantee that your room feels adjusted by conveying visual weight equally. Even plans can make a feeling of request, while deviated plans add a dynamic and present day touch. Focus on scale and extent to keep up with concordance in your decor.

Remain Refreshed with Patterns

While it's essential to imbue your own style into your home decor, staying aware of patterns can give new thoughts and motivation. Integrate in vogue components unpretentiously to try not to overpower your space. Patterns like supportable materials, blended metals, and striking examples can add a contemporary edge to your decor.

End

Home decor is an astonishing and innovative method for putting yourself out there and improve your residing climate. By characterizing your style, picking a variety range, integrating practical furnishings, adding surface, and customizing with craftsmanship and extras, you can make a space that is both delightful and useful. Make sure to adjust and blend your components while remaining refreshed with patterns to keep your home decor sleek and welcoming.

[wedezineinterior]

Elevate Your Bedroom to Luxurious Heights with WeDezine

Transforming your bedroom into a sanctuary of luxury is an art that requires a blend of elegance, comfort, and refined style. At WeDezine, Shivamogga's leading interior design firm, we specialize in designing bedrooms that radiate opulence and sophistication. Here’s how we can help you achieve a premium bedroom that’s nothing short of extraordinary.

1. Exquisite Color Schemes

To set the stage for luxury, begin with a sophisticated color palette. Our design experts recommend rich, jewel tones like emerald green, sapphire blue, and ruby red to infuse your bedroom with a sense of grandeur. For a more understated elegance, consider metallic shades such as gold, silver, or bronze paired with neutrals like taupe or charcoal gray. This combination creates a stunning backdrop that allows other design elements to shine.

2. Luxurious Textiles

The texture and quality of your bedroom fabrics are crucial in achieving a luxurious ambiance. WeDezine selects only the finest materials for your space, including silk, velvet, and satin for curtains, bed linens, and throw pillows. A sumptuous upholstered headboard and a meticulously chosen area rug add both glamour and comfort, making your bedroom a haven of relaxation.

3. Signature Furniture Pieces

A luxurious bedroom is defined by its standout furniture. Whether you prefer a majestic four-poster bed or a sleek, modern platform bed, our designers will help you choose pieces that serve as focal points while enhancing the overall aesthetic. Complement your bed with elegant bedside tables and a sophisticated dresser, all custom-designed to fit seamlessly into your vision.

4. Chic Lighting Solutions

Lighting plays a pivotal role in creating a luxurious atmosphere. WeDezine recommends a blend of ambient, task, and accent lighting to achieve a layered effect. A striking crystal chandelier or a contemporary pendant light can become a centerpiece, while carefully chosen wall sconces and bedside lamps add warmth and functionality. Dimmer switches are an excellent addition, allowing you to adjust lighting to create the perfect mood.

5. Refined Accessories

Elevate the luxury of your bedroom with carefully selected accessories. Our designers will incorporate ornate mirrors, high-end artwork, and stylish vases to enhance the room’s opulence. Metallic accents in décor items like picture frames and lamp stands add a touch of sophistication. Additionally, a beautifully crafted dressing area with custom cabinetry offers both luxury and practicality.

6. Meticulous Attention to Detail

In luxury design, the details matter. WeDezine pays close attention to every aspect, from the quality of your bedding to the design of your curtains and the finishes on your furniture. Elegant trim, moldings, and thoughtfully chosen door handles or cabinet knobs add an extra layer of refinement to your space.

7. Personalized Elegance

To make your bedroom truly your own, we incorporate personalized touches that reflect your unique style. Whether it’s bespoke artwork or a curated collection of luxury books, our team ensures that your personal preferences are seamlessly integrated into the design. At WeDezine, we pride ourselves on delivering a bedroom that is as individual as you are.

By embracing these design principles, you can transform your bedroom into a luxurious retreat. At WeDezine, our dedicated team of designers is committed to bringing your vision to life with unparalleled expertise and creativity. Contact us today to embark on a journey to create your dream bedroom and experience the epitome of luxury and sophistication.