#Sell My Old Jewelry Near Me

[goldjewellerybuyeringurgaon]

Sell online jewelry

One of Delhi's best markets is Delhi NCR. People came from all around Delhi to do their shopping. Not only that, but individuals came to purchase and sell online jewelry as well. If you're looking for the greatest cash for gold in Delhi NCR, go to Cashfor gold & silverkings Pvt.Ltd. gold purchasing business. They've been in business for almost 20 years.

[selldiamond]

Selling Old Jewelry can be a tricky task, as the value of the pieces can vary greatly depending on a number of factors. However, with the right approach, it is possible to get a fair price for your old jewelry.

[haemosexuality]

about my tav, phynn (who is kind of a self insert):

phynn is a drow that was born in the underdark and raised by a lolth sworn family. after trying several times, she successfully escaped her city when she was 76. since then, she has been moving around a lot- living in areas of the underdark that are very near the surface and dont have many drows (she doesnt mind the deep gnomes and duergar), but mainly in the outskirts of surface cities, including of course Baldur's Gate. it took her almost a decade to get used to the sun

she is a thief, and a very good one. shes had odd jobs here and there but she makes most of her outcome by straight up stealing whatever she can find and then selling it. when shes in big, rich cities like Baldur's Gate, she does a looot of burglary. breaking and entering is like her favorite hobby. she also had to get very good at fighting, both bc of the whole drow thing and bc of all the criminaling

by the start of the game, shes 183 years old, having been living in and around the surface for just over 100 years. in a human au she would be like 24

PERSONALITY AND OTHER FACTS:

her morals are contradicting and alll over the fucking place. that is because i am not good at role-playing and will just do whatever the fuck but in universe is because she was raised by very hardcore lolth worshippers and then spent the next century mostly by herself and getting by by stealing. not a lot of time for things like developing a well established and stable moral code. id say shes chaotic neutral, but with a good heart?

her journey throughout the game at first made her better, she tried to be a good person, and then made her worse because that is a lot of horrible things that happened to her and all her new friends and she is this close to snapping and having a breakdown. also shes killed more people in the last like 4 months than she has in a whole century and that will for sure change a person for the worst. shes become very apathetic and just so goddamn Tired. she didnt sign up for saving the whole world she just wanted this damn tadpole out of her head so she could continue to sell stolen jewelry!!! fucks sake!!

as part of her total off the rails mental breakdown she also became a chronic kleptomaniac. she was a thief before sure but that was just like, her job for her, now its a real compulsion. her raiding everything and everyone she sees and its starting to worry the other companions. this is inspired by me going to GREAT lengths and doing everything i can to steal literally everything i see until i realized i really didnt need to be doing that i have so many shit in my inventory and like 30 thousand gold. then i started feeling bad for these fictional npcs that are not real people and are not important to the story whatsoever because everyone here is so poor i dont need to be stealing but i truly cannot stop. normal behavior

she actually misses some aspects of the underdark. she liked how pretty (and less sunny) it was, and the food. shes not lolth sword but shes not seldarine either, she just kind of doesn't care. obviously shes not a fan of drow culture, but she still gets pretty pissed when surface ppl start talking shit

she is a rogue! she also has some levels of fighter but i just got that for gameplay reasons.

shes dating karlach in denial she doesnt know if she wants to try to convince her to go to hell so she can live, or just accept her wish to let her die. this is inspired by me crying real life tears over this fucking character. also astarion is her bestie they gossip together

not much else to say about her personality shes literally just me if i was given free will to be chaotic insane and kill people

uhm when she met astarion she didnt realize he was a vampire at ALL she assumed he was an albino drow. he ran with it until she woke up to him almost biting her while she slept (canon game event). this is inspired by a comic i saw

APPEARANCE:

eyes: because she was born to a lolth sworn mother her eyes are naturally red. i also gave her cat pupils because that looks cool to me it makes sense that drows would have pupils that can better adjust to lack of/light like that i mean they live underground!! because she is me tho she cant see shit. she used to have glasses but they got lost early in the game in a battle to which she was just blind as fuck and had to be babysat by the other companions. that lasted less than a tenday (dnd week) tho because:

her right eye got Volo'd, and the glass eye volo gives us to replace the one he plucked out is Magic, and not nearsighted! she started covering her left eye with an eyepatch since, because having one eye that can see perfectly and one that cant is awful and confusing. when she doesnt wear the eyepatch, her left eye is always squinting

the glass eye has round pupils, so her pupils are different now too!

she dyes her hair different colors. with the power of Magic and Fantasy Hair Dye. tho her natural hair color is ofc white

has vampire bite scars from astarion. they have an agreement going on where he can feed off of her every few days. people are baffled that its not sexual (astarions traumatized ass included)

she bandages her chest because i cant imagine a worst curse than having to run around and fight and climb mountains with a large chest

[zoeykallus]

Hey Guys!

I just wanted to apologize for not being as active as I usually am. I had a few people ask me what's going on and why I don't publish writings of mine daily anymore. So I thought maybe some of you need an explanation, because to be honest, it's tiring me to answer the same thing again and again in my PM's 😓

At the moment I'm in a kind of struggle phase, mentally as well as financially.

I'm about to lose my best friend and fury family member in the next few days. My dog Cooper has gotten sick in the last few weeks, showing not only weaknesses because of his old age, but he also managed to hurt his leg (while secretly climbing on and off my couch, when I was working), as well as teeth problems that seem to cause him a lot of pain.

It's not easy. I barely make it through a month with what I earn, with all the prices shooting higher while the payment for work keeps staying the same. I sold a lot of my stuff, all my books, blue rays, even parts of my clothing and that little bit of jewelry that I had, to get by. In the last weeks Cooper has struggled so much that I had to sell more to get money for the vet and I had to cut back hours again to care for him, because by now he can barely get up on his feet on his own, to get to his water or food, so I can't leave him alone for long.

As you can imagine it's not easy, my family lives way too far away to help out by watching him. I'm pretty much on my own, at least for now. It's time, I need to get him to the vet and eventually let him go. It hurts like hell, but it must be done, he's not doing good at all right now. Letting my fur baby go after 13 years of unconditional love is a downer, but I don't want him to suffer any longer.

Some may say or think "It's just a dog, get over it" and unfortunately I had even people saying that to my face. I'm not proud of it, but the last person who said this to my face, has a black eye now. My dog was always there in my worst and my best moments, and he never judged, he just loved and was always super happy when I came back from work, or grocery shopping. He was there in the morning to remind me I should go on and not give up on me, in my darkest hours when I really struggled to think of a reason to get up in the morning. I wanted to give up on myself, I thought I was done. But there was Cooper, looking at me with big eyes and I knew I couldn't just leave him behind, he needed me and for a long time that was the only thing giving me purpose, before I relearned that life can be more and better again.

So I wasn't in a good state lately and there wasn't much writing. But I just started another request this evening that will be done in the next few hours. Sometimes it calms me, but there have been moments recently when I felt very, very tired and empty and not in the slightest motivated. Aside from that, I don't get anywhere near enough sleep or nutrition these days to feed my brain enough to work properly. Sorry for that. I will write more again soon.

I didn't forget any of you, nor am I ignoring your asks! I hope you understand and won't be mad or disappointed with me. I'm not gone, just a little slower these days, but it'll get better and more again at some point.

Thanks for reading all this if you did, and thanks for your understanding!

[sajirah]

The Prison Chapter Five

Dream A Little Dream of Me

It's creepy island time again! As always, you can read the new chapter here or on AO3. Cheers.

-o0o-

She was beautiful and vicious and his.

Her mind like the finest of wines. He could drink it. Swim in it. Let himself soak and luxuriate in everything that made her her until the stars burned out.

He adored her.

And he was terrified that one day soon she would slip through his fingers, unnoticed and unmourned. Taken from him by the wolves of this island who called themselves humans.

She didn’t understand.

He couldn’t lose her.

He couldn’t.

-o0o-

“Would you like that?” Rhys purred in her ear. They were in some sort of townhouse this time, lazing in front of a roaring fire while snow fell silently outside the window. “I would. I would like nothing more than to see you soft and safe and happy.”

“I’m not though.” Feyre was too much of a pragmatist not to point out the obvious. “Soft and safe and happy.”

Perhaps she was those things in these dreams…but what about when the sun rose? Rhys always seemed to disappear come morning and she never saw hide nor hair of him again until the sun had sunk below the horizon. And even then, it was only as the animals he would…inhabit? Possess?

His grip on her tightened reflexively.

“No,” he admitted softly. He sounded…pained. “Only as much as I am allowed.”

“Allowed?” Her brows furrowed.

“Amarantha’s curse does more than limit my freedom. It limits my…influence. My power.” She felt his fingers worry at her own like a nervous habit. “If I were free I could crush the minds of those creatures and spirit us away from here. Instead my power is relegated to the night.”

Creatures. He was talking about the other prisoners Feyre realized, shivering.

“Why only the night? What are you, Nosferatu?”

She thought of the creature from the film she’d seen with her sisters once, back when they had a few extra nickels to spare after selling some old jewelry to pay rent. Feyre had wanted to buy paint but she’d been outvoted by her older sisters who were desperate to cling to any vestige of their old life. Even if it was just seeing a film about a creepy monster man who burned in the sun at the end.

Rhys seemed amused by her thoughts.

“Nothing quite like that,” Rhys chuckled, reading her thoughts. “My power aligns with the night. Darkness. Shadows. Nightmares.”

“If you’re trying to give me a nightmare you’re doing a terrible job.” She said drily, motioning to the cozy room around them.

“No,” he insisted. “No nightmares for you. Never for you.” He said it the way a lover would. As if he could truly keep all of her bad dreams away.

If only he could do that for the waking nightmare that was her life these days.

“And that is why you must remain close,” Rhys whispered in her ear, playful and yet utterly serious. “I cannot help you in the daylight. If you stray too far who knows what would happen to you…”

It should’ve sounded like a threat. Perhaps it was. Mostly it just sounded like desperation to Feyre. But desperation for what?

“Okay,” she whispered back. “I won’t go near the beach.”

Rhys grinned, his teeth gleaming in the firelight.

“Good.”

-o0o-

Her dreams were growing increasingly more salacious by the day.

They were on a beach this time, the sound of crashing waves nearly drowning out her cries and the smack of skin on skin as Rhys drove into her mercilessly.

This had become something of a nightly ritual for them. She would fall asleep, he would spin together a beautiful fantasy for her, she would argue with him, and then they would fuck like it was their last night on earth.

Except for this night.

Because just as she could feel her release building to its crescendo…he stopped.

Feyre let out a frustrated moan, squirming and digging her nails into her lover’s back, but it was like he had forgotten she was even there. Those violet eyes had gone distant and glassy, staring right through her.

“Why’d you stop?!” She cried irritably.

He was only gone a few moments, but it felt like a lifetime before she saw his features soften and he rocked into her once more.

“My sweet girl,” he crooned into her ear as if nothing had happened. “So impatient.”

And before she could demand to know where he’d gone he hiked her leg higher onto his hip and thrust any and all thoughts right out of her head.

It was only the next morning that she realized what had stolen his attention away from her the night before. She very nearly tripped right over him on her usual morning excursion.

A man lay underneath a tree not far off from where she’d bedded down last night.

A dead man.

A very dead man.

She stared at him and all she could think was that he looked just like the dead animals Rhys brought her every night for her dinner. Creatures he could puppet and dispose of as easily as if he were slipping on an old shirt.

Perhaps the man had wandered too far into the forest. Gotten too close to a slumbering Feyre, blissfully unaware of his presence. Whatever had happened, he had paid the price for it. How many times had Rhys warned her to stay away from the beach? Clearly he wasn’t just keeping her from the other prisoners, but them from her as well.

Silently, she turned around and walked back the way she’d came.

-o0o-

She was in another dream again. This time they were on a boat. A barge really. It floated just off the shore of some harbor glitterering in the night. Feyre glanced sidelong at her perpetual nighttime companion as he pursed his lips and leaned more heavily on the railing. This was the part where he usually charmed and wooed her but he seemed strangely…sedate tonight.

“Are you alright?”

Rhys glanced sidelong at her with those strange purple eyes of his. Maybe it was just the dream exaggerating things, but they seemed to glow in the night, like a cat’s.

“I’m just enjoying the scenery.”

The words sounded hollow. Like he was trying to convince himself more than her.

“Yes, it’s a very pretty scene you’ve made for us tonight,” Feyre said wryly. Then added, “You know…I’d never seen the ocean until now.”

That seemed to finally pull Rhys from his thoughts.

“Really?” He said curiously, and she saw his eyes go unfocused which was always a sign he was rifling through her head again. “Hmmm…I suppose that’s true.”

“Is this a real place? Like, that city over there?” She pointed at the glittering harbor.

“Oh yes. The Summer Court. I’d only ever been there once. Before…”

She knew what he meant without him needing to finish though. Before the island. Before some witch had stolen his life and trapped him here forever. A thought occurred to Feyre then. Something she hadn’t even considered before.

“Where did she go?”

“Hmm?”

“That woman. The one who trapped you here.”

Those pretty lips of his twisted into a grimace.

“Amarantha.” He said the name like a poison.

“That’s the one.”

He was quiet for a long time. Then, “It doesn’t matter now.”

Feyre frowned. Maybe it didn’t matter to him, what with him trapped with her here on this god forsaken island, but it certainly mattered to her if some strange faerie woman with magic was out wandering the world her sisters lived in.

“Who can say.”

She let out a frustrated snarl.

“I do! I say! Where is this bitch? If I can’t know I need to at least warn my sisters! They don’t know there’s some crazy lady out there! I need to…I just need to figure out how…” she trailed off, realizing exactly how ridiculous she sounded. What was she planning to do exactly? Put a message in a bottle and hope the ocean somehow carried it directly into one of her sisters’ waiting arms?

Rhys gathered her into his arms and Feyre didn’t even bother to fight him. What was the point? This was her life now. She would die on this island and her sisters would remain blissfully unaware of the alien danger lurking somewhere in the world.

“I would take you from here if I could.”

They were pretty words. But meaningless. Neither of them was getting off this island.

“Not unless Amarantha herself marches here and allows me the pleasure of slitting her throat.”

She looked up at him.

“So…her blood will break the curse?”

“More or less.” He allowed. “But you have to know she will never come here. She’s many things, but she’s no fool.”

Feyre deflated a bit.

“So much for villains returning to the scene of the crime.”

They both fell silent after that but Feyre couldn’t help but feel something nagging her at the back of her mind. Amarantha…why was that name familiar?

Oh well. Not like it mattered now. She was sure it would come to her eventually.

[squeakyfir]

I'm your huckleberry (Tombstone 1993) (Doc Holliday)

Description:

The joys of modern inventions and miracles are often taken for granted. Your hungry or thirsty? Get something from the fridge or make it. You need to go somewhere? Drive or call an uber. Your hurt? Go to the doctor.

Your bored? Watch a movie, play video games, watch videos on the internet, talk to people without ever leaving your house.

Some much time is in our hands... but back in the 19th century... you wouldn't last very long.

Diseases are rampant, gun violence is higher, no modern technology, barely any good medicine, almost all of your favorite food doesn't exist and most of the people are rude as hell. But... That doesn't mean all of them were so bad. Love was not something most people in this time really cared about. At least, in the town of Tombstone, Arizona.

After falling asleep with a nice looking stone you bought at a small stand at the carnival, your whole world becomes the opposite. Six people from the past discover you unconscious and alone in the blistering heat and offer help but it was their help that let you meet the most amazing man you've ever met.

John Henry "Doc" Holliday.

Chapter 1

Next

Time is not a thing, but it keeps things in balance, and it never stops. You learn new things every day. Like today, you bought a ticket to go to the local carnival and once you entered, you started to regret the decision. There was a lot of people, more than you can handle, and it was still a bit damp from the rain earlier. The sounds of people talking, the cliche carnival music and game sounds were definitely a sight to see.

The carnival also had small kiosks and shop stands. There was one doing face paints and another selling cheap jewelry. But there was one that caught your eye. It was definitely out of place for all of the bright and flashy colors of the carnival. It was illuminated with dark orange light and had a small sign that read, "Mrs. Hatches shop".

No one was there and from strictly looking at it, it looked like a witch shop. It was a bit odd for it to be here but you still went towards it. The strong smell of incense burners and herbs were very potent and made the little shop very eerie.

"Hello" you called out.

"Aah, a customer"! An old voice said. "Come in my dear".

"Who's there"? A shadow moved from the corner and as it stepped into the light, a very old lady with a wooden cane came forward. She was a bit shorter than you and her skin was very pale with veins appearing near the surface. Her gray hair was put up in a bun loosely with loose hairs being freed and she wore and black woven dress with what appeared to be an emerald ring. "I am" she said as gently as she could. "Who might you be"?

"Uhh... I'm (Y/n)".

The old woman quickly took your hand and examined it. "What are you doing"?

"Reading your palm".

"Ok, great" you said in a slight sarcastic tone, "But please don't touch me".

"Hold still now" she said like a mother scolding her child. "Hmmm... Oh yes, yes, yes! How wonderful"!

"What? What's so wonderful"?

"When I read people's palms, I can tell what their fortune is".

"What is it" you asked curiously.

"Come, I will show you"! She quickly went over to a table that became visible when she lit an old oil lamp. On the table was a glass sphere sitting on a marble stand. "Let me guess" you said sarcastically, "A crystal ball"?

"I know people believe that these are not accurate but I assure you my child, this is what it seems to be". She motioned for you to come sit and you hesitantly did. "What's your name, anyways" you asked.

"Glinda Hatches"! As soon as she said her name she rubbed the glass sphere and smoke appeared inside the sphere and was illuminated with white light. "Wow".

"Now, you may ask one question".

"Why only one"?

"The first question is free but any other questions will cost $5".

"What"?

"That'll be $5 since you already asked two questions-"

"Alright alright alright"! You sighed and you did have cash on you but you were gonna save that for some funnel cakes but after seeing this, you were still very curious. You couldn't think of anything. "Would you like some suggestions"?

"Sure".

"You can ask things such about your family, your past life, your soulmate, you can see things that you can't remember-"

"Wait" you said interrupting her. "Did you just say soulmate"?

Glinda grinned. "Would you like to see you soul mate"?

"Sure".

Glinda rubbed the glass sphere and you muttered, "This should be interesting". The light inside the sphere turned bright white and revealed an image of a man with a black hat, a short-hair moustache and goatee. His skin looked really pale but he looked like a very capable man. "Ooh, he's cute".

"Oh my" Glinda said, "I have never seen this before".

"Seen what"?

"Your soulmate is already dead" Glinda said in disbelief.

"How is that possible? That doesn't make sense". You looked back at the image of the man. "Who is he anyways"?

"His name is John Henry Holliday. As in Doc Holliday. He was a famous gunslinger and poker player".

"Ooh, I like him already! But how is he my soul mate if he's already dead"?

"I'm not sure. But hold on, I have something that may help you". Glinda stood up and rushed over to small chest rummaging around inside. While she was doing that, you took in the features of your supposed "soulmate". He looked very serious and you could see his eyes, he looked so tired. It looked as if his eyes had dark circles around them. He was truly interesting and you decided to Google more information about him but Glinda came back before you could and handed you a small stone.

"This will help you".

The stone was white with black blotches on it and was smoothed out with a silver frame around it. "How does this help me"?

"When used correctly, it will bring your soulmate to you".

"Uh-huh. Sure" you said sarcastically.

"Do you want it or not" Glinda asked.

"Well" you examined the stone and decided that it was good enough for a necklace at least. "Ok. I'll take it".

"Great"! Glinda gave you the stone and said, "That'll be 35$".

"WHAT!? Why"!?

"Remember what I said, 5$ per question". You knew you only had 20$ cash but the rest would be paid with a card. You were about to deny the purchase but you saw a literal crystal ball and had a feeling that everything she has shared with you was factual. "Do you accept credit and debit"?

"Yes, here". She pulled out a chip reader and charged you the exact amount but then had the nerve to push a glass jar near your hand that read "Tip Jar".

"Are you serious"?

"This is how I make my living" she said honestly.

"Tell you what" you said, "If this really does work, I'll come straight back here and give you a 100$ tip".

"Will you" she asked doubtfully.

"I will, I promise". You took your card back and left. That was all your cash and some of your money from your card but you decided to just go home. You were very confused. Going through the large crowd of people to get back to your car felt like an eternity. You would just go home and sleep instead. When you got into your car, you examined the stone more closely, it really was a nice stone and you think you could actually make a necklace out of it. You just put it in the pocket on the dashboard and drove home.

It didn't take long to get home and you were greeted by your dog, Gracie, a golden retriever. Happy to see you as always. You didn't even bother to change into your pajamas and fell onto your bed with Gracie quickly joining you and plugging your phone into your solar panel phone charger. It was odd to have that but your original charger was broken and this solar panel charger had back up power on it to still keep itself powered. You examined the stone on your bed under the dimmed light from the moon and just fell asleep with it in your grasp.

Not knowing, it would literally change your life...

[atonalginger]

15 questions

I was tagged by @silurisanguine via her Coemancer tagging. Thank you!

1-Are you named after anyone? -My Dad and my Mom. First Name is a diminutive of my Dad's name and my middle name is my mother's middle name. And her sisters middle name. and several cousins middle names.......

2-When was the last time you cried? - recently...anxiety is a bitch

3-Do you have kids? - no. They are fine but not for me.

4-What sports do you play/have you played? -Once upon a time I played Volleyball and softball. soo soo long ago.

5-Do you use sarcasm? -Nooooooooo..........me? (yes)

6-What’s the first thing you notice about people? -their energy and mood. A childhood of regulating my parents moods and tempers has given me a fairly keen eye when it comes to reading people and its often the first thing I notice. (in person that is)

7-What’s your eye color? -Green hazel.

8-Scary movies or happy endings? -happy ending as I cannot stomach scary movies.

9-Any talents? -Yes? At one point in college I knew how to play most instruments you could hand me (I was a music ed major its a requirement) at a beginner level. I write, draw, water color, knit, crochet, sew. I've made jewelry and still have a bunch of tools and supplies. I have friends who consider my memory a talent because I might not remember if I did a basic task today but I can recite lore for the game we play together with near photographic memory.

10-Where were you born? - Central Ohio, USA.

11-What are your hobbies? - See talents? mainly writing and drawing as they are not as taxing on my body overall. Video games. Daydreaming count?

12-Do you have any pets? - not at the moment. We said goodbye to our old boy back in February and we aren't sure when we'll be ready....

13-How tall are you? -5'6" on a good day

14-Favorite subject in school? -Band followed by history

15-Dream job? -getting paid to tell stories. I realize i could do that now but the amount of stress and labor involved in securing a publisher and selling ones self is too much for me.

[writer-with-a-lighter]

urban gods pt 2

Hermes found this place too, and I see him rarely— bars on 6th street aren’t part of his usual haunts. He came in looking to gamble, so I pointed him over to the table of men and women who show up on weekends, tossing chips onto an old wooden table. He’s charming like Apollo, but doesn’t use that glamour to bed women or their husbands. Instead he tells jokes and stories, weaving a rich tapestry from thin air. When he talks, people listen, and I’ve spent a couple nights leaning against the bar, mesmerized by this skinny man in sandals. He wears shorts and a blue shirt, and it’s so easy to forget he’s a god, then, when he orders a round of beer, when he claps a man on the back as he laughs. But when he wins game after game, when I check the clock and realize it’s been two days since he started telling his stories— I remember what he is. He doesn’t often pay, but his stories are enough for me, and he’s friendly. Nicer than most of my patrons, which I appreciate. He once gave me a set of dice, made of human bone. “Don’t ask me where I got them,” he winked and ordered another margarita. Hermes is clever— the trickster god, always trying to sell me lotions and pills that will bring immortality or erase the dark circles under my eyes. “No pills could make you prettier,” he teases, “but this one might get you a guy.” That’s when I roll my eyes and shoo him away, telling him to go soliciting in some other woman’s bar. “As you wish,” he always tells me, then gathers up his winnings and takes off, his sandals scuffing my floor. 

My favorite nights are when the goddess of love strides in, her skin shimmering under the lights. She wears a different dress every time, but they always leave nothing to the imagination and I find myself cleaning an already-spotless glass, my cheeks burning. Aphrodite comes in when the bar is full and bustling, so she can watch men and women alike grow hazy under her magic. I see it happen— eyes glazing over, lips parting with lust. She drinks scotch, leaving lipstick marks on the glass. And she takes mortals home with her, sometimes several at a time, if they’re beautiful enough. Everyone she nears or touches seems to become a little prettier, and I think it’s happened to me too. My hands are no longer calloused, my hair smoother. But I don’t thank her. She’s more dangerous than I like to admit, seductive and glamorous as a movie star. I have not found refuge in her arms or her bed like so many others, but the pull is strong, and once she leaned so close I could feel her breath next to my ear. “Another scotch.” I couldn't breathe. She dances sometimes, rising from the bar stool to go sway near the jukebox. When she comes close, the music warps and changes, falling into a smooth rhythm. Jazz, most likely, but not any kind I’ve ever heard before. The smell of roses lingers long after she leaves, and the jukebox still plays that old tune. She pays well, leaving several shining pearls and sometimes a gold necklace on the counter. Her weakness is pretty things, and it just might be mine, too, because I wear the jewelry she gives me. Men tip me extra when I’m wearing it, and their gazes travel to my hips, over the slope of my cleavage— a little charm from the goddess of beauty. 

[amnevitahwritesstuff]

Feyre is sent to a prison island after committing a murder. But she soon discovers that there is something far more sinister there than her fellow prisoners...

Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses

Pairing: Feyre/Rhysand

Rating: Explicit

Triggers: Murder, Horror

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7 (wip)

AO3 Link

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Chapter Five: Dream A Little Dream of Me

She was beautiful and vicious and his.

Her mind like the finest of wines. He could drink it. Swim in it. Let himself soak and luxuriate in everything that made her her until the stars burned out.

He adored her.

And he was terrified that one day soon she would slip through his fingers, unnoticed and unmourned. Taken from him by the wolves of this island who called themselves humans.

She didn’t understand.

He couldn’t lose her.

He couldn’t.

•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•

“Would you like that?” Rhys purred in her ear. They were in some sort of townhouse this time, lazing in front of a roaring fire while snow fell silently outside the window. “I would. I would like nothing more than to see you soft and safe and happy.”

“I’m not though.” Feyre was too much of a pragmatist not to point out the obvious. “Soft and safe and happy.”

Perhaps she was those things in these dreams…but what about when the sun rose? Rhys always seemed to disappear come morning and she never saw hide nor hair of him again until the sun had sunk below the horizon. And even then, it was only as the animals he would…inhabit? Possess?

His grip on her tightened reflexively.

“No,” he admitted softly. He sounded…pained. “Only as much as I am allowed.”

“Allowed?” Her brows furrowed.

“Amarantha’s curse does more than limit my freedom. It limits my…influence. My power.” She felt his fingers worry at her own like a nervous habit. “If I were free I could crush the minds of those creatures and spirit us away from here. Instead my power is relegated to the night.”

Creatures. He was talking about the other prisoners Feyre realized, shivering.

“Why only the night? What are you, Nosferatu?”

She thought of the creature from the film she’d seen with her sisters once, back when they had a few extra nickels to spare after selling some old jewelry to pay rent. Feyre had wanted to buy paint but she’d been outvoted by her older sisters who were desperate to cling to any vestige of their old life. Even if it was just seeing a film about a creepy monster man who burned in the sun at the end.

Rhys seemed amused by her thoughts.

“Nothing quite like that,” Rhys chuckled, reading her thoughts. “My power aligns with the night. Darkness. Shadows. Nightmares.”

“If you’re trying to give me a nightmare you’re doing a terrible job.” She said drily, motioning to the cozy room around them.

“No,” he insisted. “No nightmares for you. Never for you.” He said it the way a lover would. As if he could truly keep all of her bad dreams away.

If only he could do that for the waking nightmare that was her life these days.

“And that is why you must remain close,” Rhys whispered in her ear, playful and yet utterly serious. “I cannot help you in the daylight. If you stray too far who knows what would happen to you…”

It should’ve sounded like a threat. Perhaps it was. Mostly it just sounded like desperation to Feyre. But desperation for what?

“Okay,” she whispered back. “I won’t go near the beach.”

Rhys grinned, his teeth gleaming in the firelight.

“Good.”

•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•

Her dreams were growing increasingly more salacious by the day.

They were on a beach this time, the sound of crashing waves nearly drowning out her cries and the smack of skin on skin as Rhys drove into her mercilessly.

This had become something of a nightly ritual for them. She would fall asleep, he would spin together a beautiful fantasy for her, she would argue with him, and then they would fuck like it was their last night on earth.

Except for this night.

Because just as she could feel her release building to its crescendo…he stopped.

Feyre let out a frustrated moan, squirming and digging her nails into her lover’s back, but it was like he had forgotten she was even there. Those violet eyes had gone distant and glassy, staring right through her.

“Why’d you stop?!” She cried irritably.

He was only gone a few moments, but it felt like a lifetime before she saw his features soften and he rocked into her once more.

“My sweet girl,” he crooned into her ear as if nothing had happened. “So impatient.”

And before she could demand to know where he’d gone he hiked her leg higher onto his hip and thrust any and all thoughts right out of her head.

It was only the next morning that she realized what had stolen his attention away from her the night before. She very nearly tripped right over him on her usual morning excursion.

A man lay underneath a tree not far off from where she’d bedded down last night.

A dead man.

A very dead man.

She stared at him and all she could think was that he looked just like the dead animals Rhys brought her every night for her dinner. Creatures he could puppet and dispose of as easily as if he were slipping on an old shirt.

Perhaps the man had wandered too far into the forest. Gotten too close to a slumbering Feyre, blissfully unaware of his presence. Whatever had happened, he had paid the price for it. How many times had Rhys warned her to stay away from the beach? Clearly he wasn’t just keeping her from the other prisoners, but them from her as well.

Silently, she turned around and walked back the way she’d came.

•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•

She was in another dream again. This time they were on a boat. A barge really. It floated just off the shore of some harbor glitterering in the night. Feyre glanced sidelong at her perpetual nighttime companion as he pursed his lips and leaned more heavily on the railing. This was the part where he usually charmed and wooed her but he seemed strangely…sedate tonight.

“Are you alright?”

Rhys glanced sidelong at her with those strange purple eyes of his. Maybe it was just the dream exaggerating things, but they seemed to glow in the night, like a cat’s.

“I’m just enjoying the scenery.”

The words sounded hollow. Like he was trying to convince himself more than her.

“Yes, it’s a very pretty scene you’ve made for us tonight,” Feyre said wryly. Then added, “You know…I’d never seen the ocean until now.”

That seemed to finally pull Rhys from his thoughts.

“Really?” He said curiously, and she saw his eyes go unfocused which was always a sign he was rifling through her head again. “Hmmm…I suppose that’s true.”

“Is this a real place? Like, that city over there?” She pointed at the glittering harbor.

“Oh yes. The Summer Court. I’d only ever been there once. Before…”

She knew what he meant without him needing to finish though. Before the island. Before some witch had stolen his life and trapped him here forever. A thought occurred to Feyre then. Something she hadn’t even considered before.

“Where did she go?”

“Hmm?”

“That woman. The one who trapped you here.”

Those pretty lips of his twisted into a grimace.

“Amarantha.” He said the name like a poison.

“That’s the one.”

He was quiet for a long time. Then, “It doesn’t matter now.”

Feyre frowned. Maybe it didn’t matter to him, what with him trapped with her here on this god forsaken island, but it certainly mattered to her if some strange faerie woman with magic was out wandering the world her sisters lived in.

“Who can say.”

She let out a frustrated snarl.

“I do! I say! Where is this bitch? If I can’t know I need to at least warn my sisters! They don’t know there’s some crazy lady out there! I need to…I just need to figure out how…” she trailed off, realizing exactly how ridiculous she sounded. What was she planning to do exactly? Put a message in a bottle and hope the ocean somehow carried it directly into one of her sisters’ waiting arms?

Rhys gathered her into his arms and Feyre didn’t even bother to fight him. What was the point? This was her life now. She would die on this island and her sisters would remain blissfully unaware of the alien danger lurking somewhere in the world.

“I would take you from here if I could.”

They were pretty words. But meaningless. Neither of them was getting off this island.

“Not unless Amarantha herself marches here and allows me the pleasure of slitting her throat.”

She looked up at him.

“So…her blood will break the curse?”

“More or less.” He allowed. “But you have to know she will never come here. She’s many things, but she’s no fool.”

Feyre deflated a bit.

“So much for villains returning to the scene of the crime.”

They both fell silent after that but Feyre couldn’t help but feel something nagging her at the back of her mind. Amarantha…why was that name familiar?

Oh well. Not like it mattered now. She was sure it would come to her eventually.

[goldjewellerybuyeringurgaon]

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[selldiamond]

Buy Second Hand Jewelry Near Me - Top Deals on Pre-Owned Treasures

Discover amazing deals on second-hand jewelry near you! Explore a wide selection of pre-owned rings, necklaces, bracelets, and more, all at unbeatable prices. Find your perfect piece today and save on stunning jewelry that fits your style and budget.

[starsbegantofall]

in regards to my previous artist alley post (here) I have the business cards and one print coming in Monday, but feeling pressured to make better art for the rest of my merch and making sure my ancient printer can print the remaining stuff at home before running out of ink that is no longer made.

One the one hand, I am a salaried semi-corporate worker and I don't have to make money at all, I could lose money and it would barely affect my finances, this is almost purely for fun and fangirling while getting rid of old stock... But on the other hand I don't want to turn off the special guests or the mall patrons with uggo art or shame the event organizers by putting in no effort and wasting a table space a freelance artist or small business could have really used. So I kinda have to do a good job and sell lots of stuff for the sake of the event's reputation, even though I personally do not have to make a profit.

Looking at the other sellers so far, not to put them down or anything since I bought from a few of them before, but I honestly could do okay, I am technically filling a niche. It's just that the average mall patron or penniless gen Z fan may not want to spend money on the particular niche that my art fulfills and instead just say, "oh that's cool..." and then walk away.

Ultimately, I think that's the major hangup I have while debating working more on my own art business versus my dayjob. I personally love my art style and all the jewelry and sewing I create! But no one else does, or at least not enough to pay for it. My creations are literally my babies, with a face only their mother, me, could love.

(Well, actually I do have 2 requests from other people in progress. So it's me and two other people, so not as dire as it could have been lol.)

Anyway, I am not worried but also a little worried at the same time. But I think it will be okay overall, my friends will come visit me and hopefully get me boba, and I will bring Halloween candy for the other artists, if they are near me and not too busy anyway. Could be worse.

[sellyourdiamond]

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[cashforgold011]

Cash for Silver is one of the best silver buyers in Delhi. Cashfor Gold & Silverkings Pvt. Ltd. is one of the best silver buyers in Delhi, NCR. Cash for Silver is available for you 24/7 in Delhi, NCR. We offer the highest market prices compared to other silver buyers. Our service makes it very fast to purchase your jewelry and process transactions and payments. For more details, contact us at +91-9999821702 or 9999633245.

[katblackabstract]

Me and My Work- A Summary for my Art Squared Application

Hello Art Squared Jury! My name is Kat Black. I am a twenty-four year old abstract artist who is honored to call San Marcos, Texas my home town. I'm a proud San Martian to my core. I have been making art for eight years, and have always dreamed of having my own vendors booth. This year I am determined to make that dream a reality, and so I humbly submit this New Vendor Application for your consideration.

I make acrylic on canvas paintings and digital art in Procreate. I intend to sell prints of these works as well as originals. In addition to this I hand paint items such as jewelry boxes, rocks, and flower pots and intend to sell these as well. In the near future I'd like to produce stickers and add them to my inventory. I will accept credit, debit, and cash at my booth and plan to have a well organized, visually pleasing, and easily portable set up.

Below are some examples of my work as well as my logo. Many thanks and I greatly look forward to being a part of Art Squared!

[antiqueestatebuyers]

Dust Off Your Treasures: A No-Nonsense Guide to Selling Antiques Near You

Are you ready to part ways with a treasured heirloom or declutter your attic? Perhaps you’ve inherited an antique furniture collection or stumbled upon a dusty box filled with vintage trinkets. Whatever your reason, turning those timeworn treasures into cash can be a rewarding experience. But where do you begin, especially when navigating the world of antique buyers near you?

Finding the Right Buyer: Beyond the “Sell Antiques Near Me” Search

While a quick online search for “sell antiques near me” might yield results, it’s crucial to delve deeper than just proximity. Here are some key factors to consider when choosing an antique buyer:

· Reputation and Expertise: Look for buyers with a proven track record of fair dealing and knowledge of various antique categories. Research online reviews, ask for recommendations, and don’t hesitate to contact potential buyers for consultations.

· Specialization: Some buyers focus on specific periods or types of antiques, such as furniture, jewelry, or vintage collectibles. Aligning your items with a buyer’s specialty can maximize their value and ensure you’re receiving an informed appraisal.

Antique State Buyers: Your Trusted Treasure Hunters

Located in Manhattan, Antique State Buyers stands out as a premier destination for selling your antiques. Their team of passionate and knowledgeable experts boasts extensive experience in appraising and valuing a wide range of items, from asian antique NYC, furniture and vintage clothing to rare coins and historical memorabilia.

What Sets Antique State Buyers Apart?

· Unwavering Commitment to Fairness: They prioritize providing transparent and accurate valuations, ensuring you get the best possible price for your antiques.

· Diverse Expertise: Their team possesses a wealth of knowledge across various antique categories, guaranteeing your treasures are evaluated by the right specialist.

· Flexible Buying Options: Whether you have a single item or an entire estate to sell, Antique State Buyers offers convenient and flexible options to suit your needs.

· Customer-Centric Approach: They prioritize your comfort and satisfaction throughout the selling process, providing clear communication and personalized attention.

Frequently Asked Questions: Unraveling the Mysteries of Antique Selling

Q: What condition should my antiques be in to be sellable?

A: While pristine condition is ideal, don’t despair if your antiques show some wear and tear. Antique State Buyers can assess the value of items in various states and may even offer restoration recommendations.

Q: How much can I expect to get for my antiques?

A: The value of antiques depends on various factors, including age, rarity, condition, and market demand. Antique State Buyers provides free, no-obligation valuations to help you understand your items’ potential worth.

Q: What happens after I sell my antiques?

Fascinating Facts about the World of Antiques

Did you know?

· The oldest known antique, a stone hand axe, is estimated to be over 1.5 million years old!

· The most expensive antique ever sold is Leonardo da Vinci’s “Salvator Mundi,” which fetched a staggering $450.3 million at auction in 2017.

· Some everyday items, like vintage clothing or typewriters, can become valuable antiques over time.

· Owning and collecting antiques can be a rewarding investment, not just financially but also emotionally and culturally.

Ready to Unearth Your Treasures’ True Value?

Whether you’re a seasoned antique seller or a curious first-timer, remember, the journey of finding the right buyer for your treasures can be just as rewarding as the final sale. With the tips and insights provided here, you’re well-equipped to navigate the exciting world of antique selling.

And when it comes to finding a trusted and knowledgeable buyer near you, remember Antique State Buyers. Their dedication to fair dealing, expertise, and customer satisfaction makes them a valuable partner in your treasure-selling adventure. So, dust off those hidden gems, book your appointment and unlock the doors of possibility, and let your antiques find their new homes!

Additional Tips:

· Take high-quality photos of your antiques before contacting buyers.

· Gather any documentation or certificates of authenticity you may have for your items