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#{ inbox call /  calling all the beautiful birds to sing along }
nightcreations · 2 years
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while I’m icon-hunting if yall want me to hop in your inbox’s? Feel free to leave a like and I’ll be doing some tossing. REPLY IF YOU WANT SOMEONE SPECIFIC. 
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thesunicarusfellfor · 3 years
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Mortal of Gold - Part 3
(Yandere!C!Techno x GN!Shy!Reader x Yandere!C!Philza)
Anyone want my list of the characters as gods? There were a few characters that I couldn't think of like Ponk, so I just left them out. ANYWAY. Hi, how's it going? ALSO I CANT EDIT THIS DAMN POST AND THE SPELLING ERRORS ARE SO IRRITATING
Part 1 Part 2 TW: Mention of amnesia, memories being altered Send me a message via inbox if you wanna be added to a general or series tag list. Make sure to turn off anon, please. ------- “They weren’t born… A mortal?”
A light wind brushed over your features, causing you to give a small sigh and roll over onto your side in an attempt to block the light from hitting your lidded eyes. It was nice and quiet for once… “(Y/n)?” A distorted voice echoed softly, causing you to flinch a bit. You opened your eyes slightly to see a silky blackbird sitting on the sheets beside you, a few golden trinkets laying beside it. Upon seeing your eyes slide open, the creature hopped up onto its legs and began making soft cooing noises, “(Y/n)! (Y/n), you’re awake!” Glancing around at the surroundings you had been placed in, racking your mind for any sort of familiarity but failing to come up with anything at all, even who you were. You sat up, slowly brushing your fingers along your ombre silk clothing before putting your hands on the sheets below your body, frowning as you didn’t recognize the bed as yours. “Hello…” You murmured softly, reaching your hand out to the crow who eagerly jumped forward to nuzzle your hand. The feathers of the bird felt… Odd. They felt more like grabbing at misty fog, but with a light staticky cotton texture that caused a buzzing sensation on your fingertips, “I’m sorry, my memory… Seems to be a tad faulty… Could you tell me your name?” “I’m Chat, Dadza- er… Philza’s familiar! I was a gift from Mumza, oops... Kristen, the Goddess of Void and Death.” It chirped, its voice having multiple layers in your head, causing you to shake your head a slight bit, “No, they’re not married, only parental figures to the souls that pass on to the afterlife or those they saved sometime before they passed on… I believe they have more of a co-worker relationship.” You nodded slightly, pursing your lips at how the creature’s voice sounded in your mind. It was unsettling and caused shivers to crawl up and down your back, but at the same time, it was incredibly calming and had a soothing aura. How that worked, you had no clue whatsoever. Brushing off the unsettling voice of the bird, you decided to focus on the name that caused a light to go off in your head, “Alright… Philza… I think I remember that name…” “Yeah! Dadza- Eck… Sorry. Phil, he’s the God of Survival and Crows! He controls not only every crow in the mortal land, but he also controls whether or not someone will survive a situation. If there is no way that the mortal can survive, he will send a crow down and have them guide the soul of the mortal to him! Then he escorts them to Kristen! He has gained the name Angel of Death because he works for Mumza!” You decided not to question why the crow called Philza and Kristen Mumza and Dadza, knowing that you’d probably find out later, but by the sound of it Chat seemed to be multiple children, “Okay… Makes sense…” You mumbled slowly, nodding your head up and down. With a sigh you slowly brought your legs over to the side of the bed, only now becoming aware of how large the soft mattress was. Lowlands! (Hell) You could probably fit six people who were ten feet tall in it with room to roam! Pushing yourself off the bed, you also realized how high the beautiful bed was off the floor, Gods, whoever lived here was tall! Behind you, you heard a small chirp, and you saw Chat watching you curiously. With a small shrug, you decided to pick the familiar up and hold it in your cupped hands as you walked out the door, “Oooh! Dadza never carries us like this, and Technoblade does only when he’s about to yeet us out a window!” “Yeet?” You scowled in confusion as you walked through the arched doorway, your bare feet padding silently on the quartz flooring, “I'm scared to ask. Technoblade? Is he also a god of some things? He sounds familiar as well…” “That’s its word for throwing something. Well, it yells the word when they throw something or get thrown, so I assume it’s yelling in excitement,” A deep voice spoke from in front of you, causing you to gasp and lift your head from the crow. The telepathic chirping and squeaks from Chat in your mind quickly formed the name Technoblade, so… You had a feeling that your answer was on its way past his
lips, “I’m Technoblade, or Techno, the God of Blood and War. It’s… nice to see you finally awake…” He shifted awkwardly on his feet as you curiously studied him. His appearance could certainly be described as godly if anyone asked you. His long pink hair was mostly twisted and tied into a braid with bits of golden chain and a polished golden crown adorned with rubies, garnets and diamonds. Upon his pale skin, dozens of scars of varying sizes decorated his skin in different areas, but they were displayed in an almost proud manner. Almost. When he spoke, his dark pink eyes hidden behind cracked glasses searched your form for any sort of injury, “I’m… (Y/n)... I think. I don’t know if this bird is exactly trustworthy in its information… Do you know where I am?” Techno snorted as Chat gave an offended squawk at your statement, “That’s very fair, to be honest. You’re in the Tundra of the Upperlands, and this is my palace. No there is no snow, I believe the person who named this place has never looked into the name or word Tundra, but it’s been like this for too long to change it-” He paused for a moment as he noticed you looking extremely confused, “Ah. Right. Desert. Don’t worry about it.” “Oh… Okay…” You frowned at the tusked male for a moment before shaking your head, deciding not to question it much, “Now, uh… How did I get here, and why don’t I remember anything about myself? Or, about you and this Philza guy, I was told about.” You lifted Chat slightly toward Techno as a silent indication that Chat was the one who told you about Phil. “That’s uh… Phil’s field of expertise.” He rubbed the back of his head with his black-tipped fingers before adjusting his crown, “I don’t understand much of what happened, and Phil will tell you what you need to know that will keep you safe.” Hesitantly, he held his free hand out towards you making you realize that he was easily over seven and a half feet tall, “C’mon, I’ll take you to him and get you the answers you need.” His hand was extremely steady, you noticed as you stared down at it cautiously. Once you noticed that he didn’t seem to want to do you harm, you slowly shifted Chat into one hand and used your free hand to take the one extended to you, which you couldn’t help but notice, made Technoblade very happy, “Okay. Thank you.” The god held your hand in his calloused one for a few moments before beginning to lead you down the tan and white hallways that were turned a light golden hue from the rising sun. It was quite a long walk filled with a slightly uncomfortable silence, but you distracted yourself by looking around the palace curiously. It was obvious he was the God of War by how many swords hanging on walls and sets of armour he had placed on armour stands in the hallways. Eventually, he walked you through an archway that led into a wide-open room with multiple windows that had many crows perched on the windowsills, some chirping and singing some little tune in perfect unison while others shuffled around, seeming to do a little dance. You were quick to realize the whistling of one of the birds didn’t match up and noticed that it was coming from the man with the large white and green striped hat as well as massive black feathered wings dangling on his back, fluffing themselves up every so often. When you and Techno stepped in, the blackbirds started chirping loudly, losing the rhythm of the tune the winged man was whistling as Chat started telepathically squealing about… 2/4? Two out of four what? “Ah!” The hat-wearing male turned around and clasped his hands together upon seeing you standing up, “(Y/n), you’re awake. I was worried the injuries you sustained were enough to keep you out cold for a few more weeks. I’m glad to see I was wrong. I’m Philza, God of Survival and Crows, and I see you’ve met Chat and Techno. Pesky bird, I told it not to wake you...” You pursed your lips for a moment, analyzing the shorter god as the bird squealed out its protests. While he was shorter than Techno, he was certainly tall, standing roughly around six feet tall, his wingspan
probably double that for each wing! His blonde hair was long around his face but was pulled into a loose braid like Techno’s was, although instead of gold intertwined into his hair, it was silver. His outfit was made up of a loose green shirt and black pants, with a red heart-shaped pendant dangling off of a chain into the center of his chest. Why did that pendant… Look familiar? You slowly rose your hand up and clasped at the pendant around your neck, noticing how Philza smiled softly, “Technoblade… Said you could tell me why I can’t remember anything?” “You’re still wearing my gift, I see,” Philza gave a soft hum as Chat jumped from your hand and onto his shoulder, before gesturing for you and Techno to take a seat where he already had drinks and some form of cakes set out, but they certainly weren’t there when you came in. Upon seeing your confused blinking, he gave a soft laugh, “I’m a god, mate, magic is no difficult task for me, let alone creating some measly tea and desserts. Now, sit down and I will tell you everything…” - General - None Mortal of Gold -@generalalmond @binas-idea-vault @ohworm-writes
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f0rever15elf · 4 years
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I Just Need Five Minutes: Part 1
Part 1 of the Maxwell Lord “I Just Need Five Minutes” Series: Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4, Part 5 (Coming soon) Pairing: Maxwell Lord x f!reader Wordcount: 2,325 Rating: G  Warnings: Death mentions Part 2 (Coming soon...)
Summary: Lord Corp has become the top business contender on the global stage, lead by none other than Maxwell Lord IV. His rise to glory has taken him from the lives of those he once loved, and you can only watch as he slips further and further out of reach. You had to stop it, before it was too late. You had to get inside. 
A/N: This story is going to call a little bit on the comic book backstory of Maxwell Lord IV, most of which can be found in his wiki article, if you’re interested. I’m excited to write for Maxwell, his character has so much potential. And hopefully this will tide me over since the movie release has been delayed again.
Masterlist  |  Ao3
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He was a genius. Shrewd, cunning, and charismatic. His way with words had everyone coiled tightly around his finger; he could sell holy water to the Pope if he wanted to. And with that silver tongue, that guise he wore to stroke the egos of those who ate from his palm and were none the wiser, he continued to climb higher and higher. More and more power fell into his grasp.
But a glass can only hold so much, and as his brimmed and spilled over with power and influence, so did he lose his humanity.
“Maxwell...what have you done?”
~~~~
The sun shines brilliantly in the summer sky over the wide yard in front of the Lord estate. In the lush green grass, two children play, no more than five or six years old. A boy and a girl, giggling and laughing over jokes and stories told in funny voices. It is the picture of innocence, purity. The little girl picks up a flower from the small pile they had collected, tucking it behind her ear before finding a matching one, tucking it behind the boy’s.
“We match now!” she beams in a way only a child can. “It means that you and I will be together forever!” The boy blushes at her words, soft blonde hair blowing gently in the summer breeze. His face is gentle and kind, shy even as he watches her with bright brown eyes that shine in the light. Tentatively, he sticks out his hand to her, pinky finger extended.
“You gotta promise! It doesn’t work if you don’t promise!” His serious voice makes the girl giggle before she makes a serious face, wrapping her pinky around his tightly.
“I promise! Forever and ever.” The boy smiles and nods as she says so, repeating her words back to her before they both erupt into giggles. From the balcony, the mothers of the two children look on fondly over their cups of tea. The sound of the children laughing danced on the warm breeze, pleasant in their ears. If only things could stay like this forever.
~~~~
Your pinky twitches as you stand before the gilded doors of the Lord Building, looking up at its windows, blinding in the sunlight. You would get in. You had to. Things had been put into motion that you need to stop, but the only way to do so is from the inside. With a shake of your head and a sigh, your turn on your heel, heading down the street towards home. It seems that nearly every screen you pass on your way has Maxwell’s face on it, selling empty promises and loaded bargains. And every time you see his eyes, they look a little less like the boy you use to know.
~~~~
“Max can’t meet you today, dear,” your mother says, petting your hair. To an adult familiar with grief and loss, the tightness in her voice would betray the tumultuous emotions she feels. To you, she just sounds uncomfortable, and you tilt your head in confusion. Fourteen years doesn’t provide much time to become familiar with the concept of loss, so you shrug, saddened you wouldn’t get to see your friend today.
Gone were the days of sitting in the grass to play, tucking flowers into each other’s hair. Maxwell was always busy helping his father to run the family business, and you would go months without so much as a word from him before he would show up at your door with a lily, smiling that dimpled smile at you. Promises always poured from his lips that it wouldn’t be so long next time before he came to see you.
But today… Today would change everything. Today, Maxwell’s father died.
~~~~
The door to your apartment slams shut behind you with a thud, shutting out the hustle and bustle of Metropolis. It’s small, but cozy, filled with your plants to bring a little life to the drab living room and kitchen. Taking a seat in the living room, you pull out your computer from your bag as you flip on the TV. It’s Maxwell’s face again, smiling at you with the look of a used car salesman who swears he wants only the best for his favorite customer. You know it’s not a real smile. Maxwell has a dimple when he smiles, and this charade didn’t. You shake your head as his promises of whatever you want in this perfect future fill the room, your eyes refocusing on your laptop, refreshing your emails. One meeting...that was all you needed.
~~~~
You let out a frustrated sigh as the door slams closed, your mother letting out a cry of surprise at the sound before coming to find you, resting a concerned hand on your shoulder as you throw yourself onto the couch.
“He still won’t see you?” Her gentle words just cause your heart to ache further and you nod.
“His mom greeted me, invited me in and made me tea. We chatted, but as soon as I asked about Maxwell, she stood up and ushered me from the house, asking me to not come by anymore since I couldn’t seem to stop asking for him.” You turn to look at your mother, tears in your eyes. “Why won’t he see me, Mom? Did I do something wrong?” Your mother’s heart shatters at the broken light in your eyes. She knew how much Maxwell meant to you, and that having him refuse to see you was tearing you apart.
“My sweet, you’ve done nothing wrong. Maxwell has a lot of responsibility to take on now that he’s running his father’s company. He’s very busy and doesn’t have as much time to see friends as he use to.” She brushes your hair behind your ear with delicate fingers. “I’m sure he still cares about you.”
“I miss him, Mom. I miss my best friend. It’s been three years since I’ve seen him...” Seventeen years of life and you still struggle with keeping your emotions in check, especially when it comes to Maxwell.
“I know sweetheart...When the time is right, you will see him again…”
~~~~
The alert from your inbox pulls you from your reverie, your eyes refocusing on the screen. As they do, your heart stutters in your chest
‘To Whom It May Concern,
We graciously thank you for your interest in Lord Corp. Mr. Lord has personally reviewed your product and would like to arrange to meet you on Wednesday at 3 p.m. You will have thirty minutes to make your sales pitch and answer any questions he may have. The front desk will direct you when you arrive. Please bring a valid photo ID and copies of your pitch for convince. Do not be late, Mr. Lord’s time is incredibly valued.
Cordially,
Sam Preston
Personal Assistant to the CEO’
You had gotten it. That moment you needed on the inside...you had finally gotten it. A relieved smile graces your lips as you begin to amass your files. You had one shot at this, it had to be perfect.
~~~~
You stand alone in the cemetery as you watch the caretakers laying new sod over the fresh grave. Your heart feels hollow, and only the black lace veil conceals the tears streaming down your cheeks from the world around you. Today was beautiful; cool and still with the birds singing in the trees as the sun warmed the earth. It was too beautiful for a day filled with such grief.
As the caretakers pack up their tools, one stops to rest a hand on his shoulder, passing along his condolences before continuing on his way. You nod gratefully before kneeling beside the headstone. It is modest, small and simple with a delicate engraving of a singular rose by your mother’s name. Black-gloved fingers trace along each petal and letter, your shoulders shaking with silent cries. You were now well and truly alone.
You shouldn’t have had to be alone. He should have been there with you, you had made a promise to one another. You were there when his father passed, and his mother. He didn’t even have the time to attend his own mother’s funeral, but you did. You mourned for him as they lowered a woman close enough to be your second mother into the ground beside her husband. So why were you alone now?
Where are you Maxwell?
~~~~
Your hands work to smooth the front of your dress down before you enter the lobby of Lord Corp. Slate gray with a simple black belt that held nicely to your figure but didn’t reveal too much. Professional and classy, with a dash of sexy. Nothing beyond anything any self-respecting company owner would don. Head held high and the bag you specifically reserved for important business trips and meetings over your shoulder, you make your way inside, up to the front desk.
“Welcome to Lord Corp, where the future is yours, do you have an appointment?” The intern who greets you sounds like every last bit of his soul has been sapped from him, and you pity him. Giving him a sad smile, you nod, pulling out your ID.
“I do, at 3 pm with Mr. Lord.” You give him your name as he takes the card, looking you up in the system before nodding, handing you back your ID and a visitors badge which you quickly put around your neck.
“Lily Solutions, you’re still on schedule. I’ll have you head down the hall. Take your first left, you’ll find the elevators. Take it all the way to the top and have a seat on the bench outside the double doors at the end of the hall. Sam will come and get you when Mr. Lord is ready for you.” You smile sweetly at the young man, thanking him before following your instructions. Your ears pop on the way up and you grimace, pulling out the folder with your ‘sales pitch’ inside, flipping through to make sure everything is in order. As the doors slide open and you make your way down the hall, you sigh. This floor was so much more opulent than the ground floor and you feel so out of place. Floor to ceiling paintings like the walls, depicting grandiose battles. Priceless vases and sculptures sit along marble pedestals. It’s like walking through a museum rather than an office, and your jaw clenches as you think about how he had come to acquire some of these items. When you reach the bench, you take your seat and cross your ankles to wait, trying to calm your racing heart.
“Lily Solutions?” The voice that calls out for you immediately grates on your nerves, high pitched and nasally. Looking to your right, so you a man in a pressed navy blue suit make his way towards you, and you stand to meet him, taking his extended hand. “I am Sam Preston, Mr. Lord’s personal assistant. Did you bring your requested documents?” The way he looked down his nose at you makes your blood boil, but you paste on the sweetest smile you can, nodding as you hand over the folder.
“You’ll find copies of all requested articles inside, neatly labeled for yours and Mr. Lord’s personal convenience.” Sam makes a disinterested sound in the back of his throat, snapping the folder shut before checking his watch.
“Very good. This way.” He strides past you and as soon as he is in front of you, you drop the sweet smile. Maxwell, why hire someone like him? You shake your head as Sam opens the door at the end of the hall, getting your salesman smile in place. “Mr. Lord, your 3 o’clock is here from Lily Solutions.” Sam ushers you inside and you are taken aback once again at how over the top the design of the office is. Floor to ceiling windows line the whole back wall with arguably the best view in Metropolis and the curtains that hang every so often are of a rich red velvet with gold filigree.  The marble tiles cause the click of your heels to echo as you make your way to the center of the room beside Sam, your eyes locked on the man sitting at the large mahogany desk.
It’s been seventeen years since you last saw Maxwell, and your heart ached for the man who appraises you with shrewd and cunning eyes. With a wave of his hand, Sam nods, leaving the folder on the desk to make his way out of the room. The large oaken door closing echos ominously through the room as Maxwell stands, coming around his desk to face you, hands in his pockets. If he recognized you at all, he didn’t show it.
“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Mr. Lord. I realize your time is very valuable, so I won’t keep you long.” Maxwell chuckles humorlessly at your greetings, leaning back against his desk.
“You say that, but you bring me this fake, garbage company in an attempt for a sales pitch?” His voice is rough and hard as flint, no trace of that gentle sound he once had. “What game are you playing?”
“No game, sir.”
“I don’t believe you.” He pushes off of his desk, walking back around it. “Everyone has a game they play, and if you’re not going to tell me yours, I’ll have you escorted out.” When he picks up the phone, your heart leaps into your throat and you dart forward pressing down on the receiver, cutting it off. He glares at you in disbelief. The audacity, he thinks, is astounding and he would make sure you suffer for it.
“Maxwell, please.” His eyes flash at the use of his first name, something in the way it sounds in your voice bringing him to pause. “I just need five minutes.”
~~~~~
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edgy-fluffball · 4 years
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song for the winds || Geraskier
Some angst I word-vomited into @silence-of-the-night‘s inbox last night. You can also read this on ao3.
Geralt makes it to the coast, eventually. It's dreamy spot, this small fishing village perched at the edge of a cliff with heather and sea asters blooming in the sandy ground, dotting the landscape with purple and pale pink. There are nets hung up along the market place and he figures the first group of fishermen are already back from their morning fishing trip.
It's a summer afternoon and the salty breeze is a welcome cooling on his skin where it shows under his leathers. Roach trots into the shadow provided by narrow houses around the near empty place. A few kids play in the fountain at the centre of the square, splashing and laughing as if there is nothing wrong or evil in the world.
Geralt leaves Roach to drink from the trough in front of the inn, beginning to rub her dry.
One of the children eyes him, curiosity bright in her eyes. She can't be older than eleven years, scrawny and probably under-fed but happy and lively in this bright, peaceful place, nonetheless.
'Show me the bard's house,' he says when she edges closer to where he is patting Roach down, relieving her off the saddle for a moment, 'I'll give you a coin, if you make it quick.'
And she leads him, through the tiny village, past more fishing nets and a few boats that have been pulled onto land for repairs or because they are done for the day. He gets a further impression of the village as they move. Few adults are outside and the girl leads him straight out of the settlement and along the edge of the cliff. It is a beautiful place, colourful and tranquil but the sound of the waves surging against the rocks at the bottom of the cliff spoke of lively, wild waters and looming dangers not to be forgotten amidst the beauty.
Geralt allows himself to breathe in deeply, lets the salty, humid air fill his lungs along with the scent of thousands of flowers and trees. It smells warm and familiar, no matter that he has never been there before. He carries Roach's saddle over one shoulder and she enjoys the lifted weight by striding alongside him as they follow the small girl.
A house comes into view, a cottage, made of wooden planks, faded under the impact of sun and salt, with a stone wall surrounding it. Bushy shore pines cast shadows into the garden, birds sing in the cool green tree tops and butterflies and bees feast on the multitude of flowers growing everywhere. It is a spot that speaks of love and the caring hand of its inhabitant.
Geralt feels himself speed up, he lets go of Roach's reigns and she stops, begins to graze, and runs past the girl, through the wicket gate, along the overgrown path. He wants to call out, announce his presence, lace his words with an apology long overdue, with a promise he wanted to make long ago, a promise he has made to himself that he intends to keep.
No word leaves his throat. He stands in front of the door of the small cottage that looks like it should not be any different, and all he can do is stare, as the door opens.
He stares and then he wants to turn around, take the coin away from the girl and run, make Roach carry him away as fast as possible. Instead, he stares into the brown eyes and the soft face appearing in the doorframe.
She is slender enough to look like she makes her living out here, everything a product of her calloused hands and hard work. Her clothes are worn and no longer in fashion but they look like they once witnessed royal banquets somewhere south. She has bright eyes that carry wisdom and the experience of a few years, and a confused smile on her lips that is probably there because she has opened the door to find a witcher on her door step. Then, she sees the girl behind him and waves.
'You bring strange guests today,' she says and her voice is warm and soft and melodic, as if she's singing.
Geralt bows his head, almost sheepishly, overwhelmed with the situation.
'Forgive me, I must be at the wrong house, I was looking for the bard -'
'Oh, but I am here,' she lowers her hands from the doorframe, opening up a little to size him up with eager ambition, 'do you need someone wooed? Entertainment for a wedding? A commissioned song about your heroic deeds?'
Geralt tries to make sense of her words but fails. She looks at him expectantly and now he sees that her hair is held up by a tin whistle stuck through the bun in the back of her head, he sees the lute leaning against the wall behind the door.
He is at the bard's house, after all.
'Forgive me,' he manages with all manner and patience he can muster, 'I was told somebody else lived here, a famous bard, well-travelled, going by the name of Jaskier?'
Something in her eyes changes but it is fast gone and then she smiles woefully, 'Of course. A witcher looking for Master Jaskier. You must be Geralt of Rivia, then. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Priscilla.'
He hums in acknowledgement. The woman pulls the door shut as she steps outside and past him, 'I studied under Master Jaskier for many years after he came out here, he took me in after he found me in one of the towns close by, trying to earn money with my singing. He trained me, gave me a roof over my head for the longest time. Come with me, I will show you.'
And Geralt follows her, through the garden, around the corner of the house, out of the back, past a vegetable patch, over the fence into the thick heather growing here, past some haws and wild roses. The wind is stronger up here, close to the edge and it blows Geralt's hair into his face and makes his eyes burn for a moment.
Then, the moment passes and they stand a few feet from a soft mound where there is no more wind, just flowers and roses swaying in the wind. Priscilla takes a few more steps before turning around and standing aside, as if to make space for Geralt. Her eyes shine after walking in the strong wind.
'He wanted it to be here. Oftentimes, I would find him out here, no matter the time or weather, without a blanket, singing to the winds. That's what he said he was doing, he sang to the winds, willing them to carry the words and melodies out into the world, to his witcher. He loved this spot very much. One time, he told me to bring those here who sought him after everything.'
Geralt takes a first step, and maybe it wasn't the wind that made her eyes sparkle as wet and salty as the sea stomping and rolling far beneath them. He takes another step and Priscilla wipes at her eyes, discreetly and with a smile that makes him hurt more than getting his bones broken in a fight.
There is a small, earthen mound on top of a cliff, looking out over the sea and the world, surrounded by flowers and trees and stubborn plants that have no reason having roots strong enough to withstand the wind. Stubborn like him.
Geralt makes it to the coast, eventually. But he comes too late to see his bard.
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tenebris-melodiam · 6 years
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Stefano Valentini x Reader: Facade - Chapter 4
Pairing: Stefano Valentini x Reader/Female Protagonist (18+)
Warnings: Light swearing
Current Time: December 19th, 2015
=2=
Tired eyes creaked open, the blur of the dark room surrounding you filling your vision. You parted your lips, a gurgling mumble leaving your throat as you lifted your head slightly from your pillow to give a quick look around the darkened room. You blinked slowly, trying to rid the blur from your eyes as you fumbled around for the phone that rested upon your bedside table. Once you had the device within your fingers, you slowly brought the illuminated screen to your face, just barely able to make out the time: 4:33 A.M. It was only now that your mind began to register what exactly had woken you—the loud, rhythmic thumping coming from the floor beneath you, and the feeling of your bed vibrating along to the beat of the incessant music. You rolled your eyes, tossing your phone into the wrinkles of your bedsheets as you brought yourself to sit upright; this was the third night in a row that your downstairs neighbors had been partying throughout the hours of the night, and you were beginning to grow weary of it.
Knowing that you weren’t going to be able to fall back to sleep, you slung your legs over the side of the bed and rose to your feet, the sound of cracking toes and popping bones reaching your ears as your body hastily grew accustomed to its new position and relaxed itself. You gave a quiet groan as you shuffled yourself into your bathroom, your fingertips running through the messy muff of hair atop your head as you made your way over to your bathtub—you didn’t care how early it was, any time was a good time for a hot, relaxing bath. Hell, perhaps you might be a rebel and put some bubbles in there this time. You made sure that the drain was properly plugged so water couldn’t make a desperate escape, and then unleashed the torrent of warm water into the porcelain tub to allow it to fill.
You gave a quiet grunt as you tugged your pajama shirt off over the top of your head, lazily allowing it to drop from your grip and onto the floor next to your sink, and then proceeded to do the same thing with your pants and undergarments. Before you knew it, you were clad in nothing more than your birthday suit, and it struck you that you might want to do a bit of light reading whilst relaxing in your bath—after all, maybe it would help drown out the damn music that was still vibrating your apartment. You made a quick trip out into your bedroom to locate your phone, and then grabbed your favorite book from the drawer of your bedside table and hastily made your way back into the bathroom. By this time, the tub was about a third of the way full, and you hummed to yourself as you rummaged around underneath your sink for that bottle of liquid you kept for emergencies like this. Once you found it, you popped the top off and threw several long ropes of it into the water—almost immediately, the water began to form a thin layer of bubbly film upon the top, which eventually evolved into large, mountainous hills of foam.
Growing rather tired of wandering around naked, you cautiously slipped one foot under the pile of foam and into the warm water. It sent a shudder along the entirety of your figure, goosebumps forming on your flesh as your body began to make itself used to the change in temperature. You reached over and turned off the faucet before slipping your other foot underneath the foam, and gradually eased the rest of your lower body beneath the surface of the water. Once you were comfortable, you gave a sigh of pleasure and leaned your head back against the head of the tub, but not before making sure that your book and phone were safely placed on the windowsill that was to your left.
After allowing yourself to soak for a good five minutes, you heard something that you hadn’t experienced all night: silence. The seemingly never-ending thumping of music had ceased, and now the only sound that filled your ears was beautiful silence; well, aside from the occasional drop of water that fell from the metal mouth of the faucet. However, that was most certainly something that you could put up with. You reached up onto the windowsill, grabbing your book within your hand before bringing it down in front of you and opening up to where your bookmark was to continue reading.
After losing yourself within the contents of your book, you were drawn back to reality by the sound of your phone going off upon the windowsill. You glanced over to your right to take a look at the analog clock sitting upon the corner of your sink, and you now saw that you had spent nearly thirty minutes in the bath already: 5:01 A.M. You grabbed your bookmark, sliding it neatly between the pages of your book before shutting it and placing it back upon the windowsill, and then replaced it with your phone. You flicked your thumb across the screen to unlock it, not even bothering to look at who the message was from, and then opened your messaging app to read it properly. To your surprise, you had not one, but two messages—one from Vincent, which had been received at 4:56 (you must have been too deep into your book to hear your phone) and the most recent one, which was from Stefano. God, they were both such early birds; you decided to read Vincent’s message, since it was the one that had been received first.
[Vinny]: Boss called me this morning. I don’t think he knew it was me lol… he sounded pretty drunk. Not to mention he called me “Rebecca” which is the name of his wife. I’ve never been sweet-talked by my boss before, but damn. He and his wife must have some crazy bedroom life by what he was saying lmao
[Me]: Thank you for the lovely bit of info at the end there, Vincent. I guess you and I both had an early morning. The idiots beneath me were partying from like 9 to 4… didn’t get any sleep. They’ve been doing this for 3 days now. So now I’m just sitting in the bathtub to try and get some form of peace.
After thumbing the send button and watching the little speech bubble pop up on your end of the conversation, you returned to your inbox and pressed down upon Stefano’s name in order to see exactly what he had sent you. It was an image that had to be downloaded, and the name was simply “Preview”; you cocked your eyebrow curiously, and then allowed it to download—when the image finally revealed itself to you, you felt a small smile creep upon your lips. It was one of the photographs that he had taken of you at the third photography session you had done with him two days ago; it was a bust shot, but it was certainly one of the most beautiful photographs you had ever seen of yourself. You always hated how you looked whenever your picture was taken, but Stefano seemed to be the only photographer that was able to remedy such a negative outlook on your pictures.
There was no doubt about it—this photograph was going to be your new photograph for any columns that you made. You made sure to save the image to your phone, and then began to thumb down a response for the man to read.
[Me]: This is absolutely beautiful, Stefano. I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to use it as my new image to go alongside my columns in the paper! However, why did you name it “preview?” What is it a preview of?”
[Stefano]: You’ll come to find out in due time, I assure you. I’m also quite flattered you wish to use it as your column image—please do so, by all means.
Once you had read Stefano’s response, you sighed deeply and placed your phone back upon the windowsill. The water within the tub was beginning to get a bit cold now, so you dug around beneath the water to unplug the drain before rising to your feet. You figured it would be a good time to take a shower now, especially since you were covered in bubbles and hadn’t done any real washing, so you stepped out of the tub and onto your rug, which grew dark as it soaked in water that dripped from your body. You stepped over to the glass door that led into your shower, opening it to turn it on and allow the water to heat up a bit. Thank God this apartment building had the water bill included as a paid amenity.
=2=
By the time that you were fully ready for the day, it was about eight thirty in the morning. You had taken your time, seeing as how you didn’t really have to be anywhere in a hurry, and you had spent a majority of your time laying upon your bed thumbing down responses to both Stefano and Vincent. You knew that Vincent could be rather talkative via text messages, but you had no idea that Stefano would almost be an equal match for him. You had partaken in several small conversations with him before, but this was the first time he had continuously spoken to you in a non-formal style. You supposed it might have something to do with the fact he had begun to rant about the other columns that he had read that had been released over the course of the past few weeks—they, like yours, were centered around the solo show that he had hosted, and as always, they weren’t singing his praises.
[Stefano]: It simply amazes me how ignorant the masses are, (Name). They appear to willingly ramble on for years about how a photograph of nothing more than a field of grass holds beauty and wonder, yet they refuse to acknowledge the exquisite beauty in the artwork I pour my heart and soul into.
[Me]: I know, Stefano. I don’t understand them, either. I’ll tell you what… how about I come over to your place? We can talk in person there, and maybe do a photo session if that would make you feel better?
[Stefano]: You’re too kind, (Name). I suppose I wouldn’t mind the company. What time do you think you’ll arrive?
[Me]: Hmm… I could be there in about ten minutes if I took the bus. Well… granted the bus isn’t off schedule. We all know the Krimson City bus line isn’t very reliable.
[Stefano]: Ah yes… damnable thing. Well, I will expect you over sometime soon.
You took a glance up at the top right corner of the screen to see that the time was now eight fifty-three, and you quickly got up out of bed. Thankfully the bus typically arrived at around nine, and there was a stop just outside your apartment, so all you had to do was make your way down the stairs. You made sure all the lights and such were turned off as you made your way through the apartment, and then grabbed your heavy coat from inside your coat closet near the entry door. After hastily slipping it on, you grabbed your bag and your keycard, and then made your way out into the wintery city.
The bus, which pulled up to the stop right as you got to the bottom of the stairs, welcomingly allowed you inside with the help of your bus pass. Once you had taken a seat, you noticed at it was nearly empty, save an elderly woman in the very back of the vehicle and a young man who was staring down at his phone. Wait, why did that young man look so familiar?
“Vincent?”
The man looked up from his phone, only to have a huge smile spread across his lips. He rose to his feet and made his way over to you, plopping down upon the empty seat to your left and giving you a nudge on your shoulder.
“Hey! What are the odds we’d see each other on the bus, huh?”
“I dunno, but it’s pretty nice! Where are you heading, Vincent?”
“Well, I’m just heading down to the library. Thought I’d do a bit of reading there, since I haven’t had any time, y’know? But what about you? Where are you going so early in the morning?”
“I’m just going over to Stefano’s place. He’s all worked up about the other critics and their columns, so I thought I’d give him some company.”
As soon as you answered your best friend, you realized the dire mistake you had made. His eyebrow cocked as a sly grin came upon his lips, and he stared at you as he brought his cheek to rest upon your shoulder—this was something he had done throughout all the years you had known him, so it wasn’t something that particularly bothered you. You knew you were in for some teasing, however, since that was the only time he ever acted like this.
“Giving him some company, hmm? What kind of company are we talking about here?”
“Vincent, it’s nothing like that…”
You shoved him gently, which he greatly over-exaggerated and acted as though you had rammed him full force with your shoulder. This elicited a laugh from the both of you, and you continued to talk about things going on in your daily lives as the bus made various stops around the city. Eventually, the elderly woman ended up getting off of the bus, leaving only you, Vincent, and the bus driver as residents within it. You heard Vincent say something about the next stop being where he had to get off, and you saw his eyes light up as he gave a smile.
“Oh yeah, I entirely forgot! I know you don’t like big parties with tons of people, but on Christmas Eve, we’re heading over to the club on 51st Avenue. Do you want to come along?”
“Mmm… probably not. I just get worn out too quickly when I’m around tons of people like that. Even going to your bar is sometimes a bit much, y’know?”
“Yeah, yeah! I just wanted to ask was all. It’s not a big deal, (Name). But, you better be home at midnight, cause I’m coming to your apartment afterwards and I have a surprise for you!”
You felt the bus come to a stop, and Vincent rose to his feet as he turned his attention to the now-open door that led out onto the snow-covered sidewalk. He then looked at you one last time and placed a hand on your shoulder to say goodbye, and you noticed him wink before hurrying to the front of the bus and hopping out onto the sidewalk. You rolled your eyes—Vincent always was pretty silly around you, but you loved him all the same. You saw him wave through the window as the bus began to drive off, and you waved back at him to give one final goodbye. Now you were the only one, aside from the driver, left upon the lonely bus.
Thankfully the feeling of loneliness wasn’t prolonged for much longer—your stop was directly after Vincent’s, and it felt good to step off of the bus and into the cold air of the city. You wandered a bit down the sidewalk, passing a few people who were on their way to who knows where, and then stopped once you got to the doors that led into Stefano’s building. You looked up, unable to see the top of the building from where you stood, and then pushed the door open to head inside. As you entered, you were greeted by the young woman sitting behind the main desk, and you gave a wave of your hand in response to this before making your way through the lobby and in front of the elevator. Your forefinger pressed gently upon the button with an upright arrow upon it, and you had to wait several minutes whilst the elevator made its way to the bottom floor.
When the doors opened, several residents within the building made their way out, one of which accidentally (or so you’d like to think) nudged you with their shoulder as they walked past you. You shot them a glance over your shoulder as you made your way into the now empty elevator, and pressed the button that would take you to the penthouse suite that Stefano was housed in. The doors pressed shut, and your journey upwards began—thankfully it wasn’t too terribly long, and before you knew it you were walking down the hallway that led up to the artist’s entry door. Once you stopped outside his door, you curled your fingers into your palm and rapped upon the door a few times to alert the resident within. It only took a few moments before the door was opened to reveal Stefano, who was clad in a black suit and red undershirt, and giving you a welcoming smile; as you walked past him, you couldn’t help but think of how dashing his current attire made him look.
“You look very nice today, Stefano.”
“Oh, only today? What about all the previous times we’ve met, hmm?”
“N-no, no! I didn’t mean-“
“I jest, mia cara. Come, allow me to prepare you a drink—is there anything that might suit your fancy at the moment?”
You responded that you would just like some water for the time being, and then watched as Stefano walked into the confines of his kitchen. You decided to head into the living room, where you took a seat upon the couch; it wasn’t long before Stefano exited his kitchen and made his way beside you, gracefully setting your glass of water upon a coaster before taking a seat upon the opposite side of the couch. You leaned over, gripping your glass within your fingers before bringing the rim to your lips and taking a small sip of the chilly liquid within. Once you had set your glass back upon the coaster, you looked over in Stefano’s direction.
“So… are you still upset about the other columns? I know you were pretty worked up about them before I left.”
Stefano gave a quiet hum, and you saw his gaze turn to the framed photographs that rested around the living room. He was silent for a while, but then gave a small smile and gestured in their direction.
“Look at them, (Name). Look at them and tell me you cannot see beauty in them. Glistening crimson contrasting with gentle, pale skin… to me, such a photograph brings wonderful jubilation. And yet those goddamn philistines continue to make a mockery of me and my work.”
You saw the smile that had previously been upon his lips morph into a scowl, and you noticed the whiteness upon his knuckles as he curled his fingers harder into the palm of his hand. It was upsetting to see the artist in such a state of distress, but you kept quiet for the time being—you were going to do nothing more than listen to him, since that seemed to be what he needed right now.
“It has been this way since the day I began my career. With each wonderous picture I take, fifty more fools flock to them and degrade them—degrade me. I have read every article, every column… I have taken every word to heart, though I do not show it. The time I take to make sure every detail is perfect I cannot even begin to fathom, and yet a photograph that has been taken a million times before accumulates more praise. What beauty is there in repetition, (Name)?”
He turned his gaze to you, his brows furrowed and a look upon his face that told you he was pleading for an answer. As a follower of his art for years, you knew he had to have suffered from the ungodly amount of criticism thrown at him, and you had already had a small taste of what he had endured for years. It wasn’t pleasant, to say the very least. You gave a quiet sigh, then laced your fingers together before setting your hands upon your lap.
“I’m honestly not sure, Stefano. People don’t like change… they like things to stick to the norm, and grow anxious when things begin to alter. I suppose that’s why a picture of the same sky we see every day is so pleasing to the masses—they’re used to it. It’s something that’s ‘normal’, and thus makes them feel normal. People aren’t used to seeing blood and death, and so they shame it.”
You heard Stefano give a deep sigh, and he turned his gaze to the floor beneath his feet. You bit your lip as you tried to think of what else to do; you didn’t enjoy seeing him this distraught, you were certain about that. Unsure of what else to do, you scooted yourself across the couch to the cushion beside him, and hesitantly placed a hand upon his shoulder—you felt him tense up slightly at this, but he soon relaxed against your touch.
“If it means anything… I’ll continue fighting for you. I know I’m just one person going against what feels like the world, but dammit I’ll keep doing it. You’re a wonderful artist, Stefano… and people need to recognize that.”
The room was silent for quite some time, and you eventually heard Stefano release a soft breath through his lips. He sat upright, cleared his throat, and then looked in your direction—once more, he had his normal, content expression upon his face. You had to wonder just how much pain he was hiding behind that outward façade, but you knew that you shouldn’t press the issue any further. You grabbed your glass from the coaster upon the table once more, then brought it to your lips to take another sip of the water that it held.
“You know, I must admit that your columns ease the constant criticism that society has thrown upon me, mia cara. Reading them puts my mind at ease, just as your words of praise do. I cannot express my gratitude enough.”
You felt a very faint heat begin to arise within your cheeks, and you knew that it was coming from the fact that Stefano enjoyed reading your columns. After all, you worked hard on them, and if he approved of them, then that was all that mattered. You took yet another drink from your glass, leaving nothing but crystalline cubes of ice left within it now, and then placed it back down upon the table before beginning to speak.
“I’m glad they can bring you happiness, Stefano. Now… how about we try to take you mind off of all those imbeciles, hmm? Care to do a photoshoot with me?”
You would have sworn you saw a spark ignite within Stefano’s eye, and you noticed the smile upon his lips only broadened as he hastily rose to his feet. Seeing how quickly he paced across the room to turn on his photography lights was certainly something to behold—he certainly was enthusiastic whenever it came to doing the thing he loved most. He gestured for you to make your way over to where he currently was, and you willingly did just that. After all, you wished to see him content at the very least, and if allowing him to take photographs of you did that, then you would never refuse.
=2=
Before you knew it, nightfall had already taken hold of the city. You had been so preoccupied with Stefano and his photography that time had seemingly slipped away from the two of you, but you didn’t mind this whatsoever. Of course, you hadn’t spent the entire day doing nothing but taking pictures—after a few hours, the two of you had returned to the living room of his studio and spoke about various things, which included interests that the two of you had (you were quite surprised to learn that Stefano had an affinity for older musicians, such as Doris Day and Frank Sinatra, and that he possessed the ability to play the piano).
Now, however, you were unfortunately about to leave the artist’s abode and begin the journey back to your own apartment. You slipped your coat on over your shoulders, making sure to zip the front of it up before slipping the strap of your bag over your shoulder. Stefano had been kind enough to accompany you to the doorway of his studio, and he stooped over to open the door for you to make your way through it. You thanked him, wished him a good night, and then began to take your leave down the hallway. However, you were stopped by a call of your name, and you turned to see that Stefano had stepped outside his studio and made the short walk to stop in front of you.
“I almost entirely forgot to ask you about this, but do you have any plans for Natale, (Name)?”
You cocked your head slightly, unsure about how to answer his question. After a few moments, Stefano gave a chuckle upon realizing that you weren’t aware of what Natale meant.
“Ah, forgive me. Do you have any plans for Christmas?”
“Oh! Well… Vincent, erm, my best friend, asked me if I wanted to go clubbing that night, but I’m not one for loud places with tons of people. So, I said no. But uh… to directly answer your question, no. I don’t currently have any plans. Why?”
“Well… perhaps you might partake in an evening here at my studio? I could prepare dinner for us, and we could enjoy each other’s company.”
You swallowed hard, your heart suddenly giving several hard thumps within your chest that made it rather difficult to breathe for a moment. You weren’t quite sure why, but you didn’t really care about it at the moment—you were more concerned with the offer that Stefano had made you. Once your body managed to allow you to breathe properly once more, you gave a smile and a quick nod of your head.
“Of course! I’d greatly enjoy an evening like that, Stefano. What time would you like me to come over?”
“Hmm… I believe six should be fine.”
“Alright! I’ll uh… I’ll see you then, Stefano. Have a good night, okay?”
“I shall do my best, (Name). Buona notte, mia cara.”
You gave him a soft smile, then turned around and began to make your way down the hallway towards the elevator. For some reason, you felt extremely giddy, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of happiness the entire way back to your apartment. Whenever you finally did arrive home, you sighed happily and threw your bag down near the entrance, then hung up your coat and flopped down onto the couch with a smile still plastered across your face. You felt silly—you were acting like a teenager that had just met their favorite celebrity, but you were too overjoyed to care. You were going to spend a nice, quiet evening with the artist you admired the most, and that was all that mattered to you.
You grabbed your remote from the table in the center of the room, turning on the television to one of your favorite channels and relaxing against the plush couch beneath you. It wasn’t long before sleep claimed you as its own, the background noise of the television providing you with some vivid, interesting dreams whilst you slept peacefully throughout the night.
=2=
Author’s Note (1): Apologies for the excessive summation throughout the chapter. I promise I’ll make it up in upcoming chapters.
Author’s Note (2): Yes, Stefano’s interests and ability to play the piano are head canons of my own.
Author’s Note (3): Thanks to all of you who have kept up with this story so far. The comments and reviews I have received really warm my heart, and they help me keep going forward with my writing. I love every single one of you, and I’m so glad I have the opportunity to make you guys happy.
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topfygad · 4 years
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10 Things to do in Vegas (That Aren’t Gambling or Drinking)
As you may have seen from my monthly recap, I spent a week in Las Vegas with Richelle and my mother early in February.
It was a far cry from my first visit to Las Vegas and my more debauched visit during the Great US Road Trip, as my mother isn’t much of a drinker or gambler.
So, what are the things to do in Vegas when you don’t feel like drinking or gambling?
‘Sin City’ has become far more than just a place to gamble and drink to excess, with a variety of hotels and tour operators providing family-friendly fun.
With that in mind, I’ve partnered with Expedia.com.au to highlight the ten things to do in Vegas that don’t require a fat wad of cash or a liver of steel.
#10 – Visit a Vegas Museum
You might not associate Las Vegas with something as dry and dusty as a museum, but Las Vegas puts its own fascinating twist on museums.
First of all, there’s the Neon Museum, a surprisingly fascinating look at the lights that put Las Vegas on the map as surely as the big name musicians and the high-stakes gambling. With almost two acres and more than 200 neon signs, it’s a visually stunning look at an often overlooked bit of Vegas history.
From the shiny to the seedy, the Mob Museum explores the less savoury elements beneath Vegas’ early success. With fascinating exhibits demonstrating the crucial role of organized crime in establishing Las Vegas as one of the world’s premier entertainment destinations,  the Mob Museum is a must see for history buffs.
Lastly, the Pinball Hall of Fame is a loving look at pinball machines dating back to the 1950s. The best part? You can play on every one of these vintage machines! It’s a great break from the noise and chaos of the workaday world, and you’re sure to feel like a kid all over again as you frantically try to beat your own high score.
Want to dangle off the side of this monstrosity? You can!
#9 – Try out the Rides at Stratosphere
Located halfway between The Strip and Fremont Street, Stratosphere is a Las Vegas casino with a difference.
Sure, it has the same resort style accommodation and the same gaming floor, but a quick glance at the top of this towering pinnacle shows why it’s popular even with those who don’t gamble.
Those tiny specks you see overhead? They’re people riding the three thrill rides that put Stratosphere on the map.
There’s the high G thrill of the Big Shot, the whirling death-defying of Insanity, and the ‘heart in the throat’ thrill of X-Scream all perched more than 900 feet above the city.
Are you brave enough?
#8 – Antique Shopping in the Arts District
The phrase “Arts District” is perhaps a little strong to describe this area of Vegas. It’s definitely not the tourist-friendly artist enclave the name implies, but it’s intriguing nonetheless, if not a little seedy.
If you’re interested in antiques, vintage clothes and thrift stores, this is your place. You may have to avoid a mugging to get there, but the antique malls here are definitive troves of treasure. They’re all clustered together over a couple of blocks, so just stroll (or maybe walk briskly) between them all and you’ll collect the sorts of trinkets you won’t find anywhere in The Strip.
I loved The Attic, a vintage store on South Main St that not only boasts glorious, groaning racks of vintage frocks, but is also home to a veritable menagerie of pets that includes a toucan and an adorable cat called “Miss Kitty” that prowls the store.
It’s worth the slightly scary trek by all the bail bond offices to get to the treasure. Maybe take a taxi…
So. Much. Cheese. Image courtesy of s-velasco.
#7 – Eat!
Las Vegas is foodie heaven.
With so many tourists from all walks of life gathering in one place, it’s no surprise that there are a mountain of choices when it comes to dining out.
From greasy spoon diners like Marilyn’s Cafe to the fun atmosphere of a Tom’s Urban to high-end options, you’re spoiled for choice no matter where you look.
For our visit, Richelle had her heart set on trying one of those decadent Bloody Mary’s, and she got to do this at Tom’s Urban on our little date night.
About Buffets
It’s true that dining out on the Las Vegas Strip can get a bit expensive, but it’s totally possible to enjoy Vegas on a budget without having to resort to fast food.
Most casinos boast massive buffets for as little as $20 USD per head, giving you plenty of value for money. There’s even a buffet of buffets pass you can get, giving you access to five different buffets for a 24-hour period. Now that is bang for your buck!
Eat a light breakfast and make your lunch/dinner a combined feast before heading out on the town!
My first stay in Vegas was on Fremont Street and it was a blast!
#6 – Explore ‘Old Vegas’ on Fremont Street
Fremont Street is the original Las Vegas: a sea of neon lights, shouting hawkers, and a kind of seedy charm that is at odds with the shiny ‘new’ Vegas that is The Strip.
While the focus here is definitely on gambling, Fremont Street nonetheless offers a variety of dining and entertainment options.
From the Fremont Street Experience light show to zip-lining from Slotzilla to comedians and live music, Fremont Street brings Vegas to the masses.
Don’t want to spend a buck? Simply wandering Fremont Street shows the fascinating diaspora of people who call Vegas home.
Want a photo with a Chippendale or an obese man in a bunny outfit? You got it!
Women in their seventies drunk beyond mortal comprehension and singing along to Bon Jovi? Done!
Kids mesmerized by a street magician? It’s here!
Simply put, Fremont Street is Vegas in all of its seedy, unusual glory.
A young CWB in his element betwixt a pair of showgirls at (the now closed) Mermaids on Fremont Street.
7 Things to do on Fremont Street
Of course, there are more things to do on Fremont Street than people watching. Here’s some inspiration for your walk through Old Vegas.
#5 – Visit the Downtown Container Park
Located just a short walk from Fremont Street, the Downtown Container Park is a fun outdoor mall with bars, cafes, and cute little boutique shops.
With music on the speakers and a unique, urban feel – it’s something distinct from the neon jungle of nearby Fremont Street.
But what makes the Downtown Container Park more than just a shopping area is the fun, laid-back vibe of the place.
There’s live music, hipster coffee shops, a pretty fantastic Vegan cafe (Simply Pure), and the massive Dome, where visitors can experience classic rock concerts from the likes of U2 and Led Zepplin in immersive 4K.
If you’re already downtown and you have a little time to kill, you can do a lot worse than a little window shopping and dining at the Downtown Container Park.
The Nevada desert is every bit as worthy of your time as Vegas proper.
#4 – Head out to the Desert
While you’re blinded by the sparkling lights and the loud noises, it is easy to forget that Las Vegas sits between Death Valley and the Mojave Desert. Some of the United States’ most beautiful and deadly stretches of desert are right on your doorstep.
Day trips from Las Vegas run the gamut from ghost town tours to family-friendly Bonnie Springs Ranch to gorgeous natural environments such as Red Rock Canyon, the Valley of Fire State Park, and even the majesty of The Grand Canyon.
If you’ve become a little jaded with the glitz and glamour of The Strip, why not take a day trip away from it all and soak in the immense natural beauty of Nevada?
For an unparalleled view of the Vegas skyline, the High Roller is worth a look.
#3 – Ride the High Roller
For a bird’s eye view of the Las Vegas Strip and the surrounding city, the High Roller is a 550-foot tall observation wheel that offers an unbeatable view of Sin City.
You can simply ride the High Roller and take in the view, or you can indulge in a happy half-hour with a few drinks and a private bartender.
It might not be the most thrilling way to while away half an hour, but it’s hard to beat the view from atop the iconic Linq attraction.
The Strip is far more than just gambling. Every casino is a destination in and of itself.
#2 – Wander the Strip
The Las Vegas Strip is very much an attraction in its own right. Properties vie for your attention with more and more elaborate gimmicks, and you could spend a day or two simply wandering in and out of casinos being amazed by the themes, the restaurants, and the fun attractions they possess.
Rather than bore you with a long description of every casino, I thought I’d instead highlight my ten favourite Las Vegas strip attractions.
10 Best Things to do on the Las Vegas Strip
Take a gondola ride at The Venetian
Explore the streets of Paris in Paris Las Vegas
Ride the New York-New York rollercoaster at sunset
See the famous Bellagio fountain display
Visit the circus at Circus-Circus
Enjoy a cocktail inside a giant chandelier in The Cosmopolitan
Wander the entertainment corridor at The Linq
See the Mirage volcano erupt
Enjoy the dueling pianos at New York-New York’s ‘Bar at Times Square’
Check out the exhibits in The Luxor’s pyramid.
Seeing The Lion King in Las Vegas back in 2009.
#1 – Catch a Show
More than gambling and more than drinking, Las Vegas is becoming a fantastic destination for seeing fantastic live entertainment.
From touring Broadway shows to world-famous live music to hilarious comedians, Las Vegas boasts a startling variety of entertainment options.
On my first visit to Las Vegas I was blown away by The Lion King, and my recent trip saw me taking in Vegas! The Show and Cirque de Soleil’s sinfully hilarious Zumanity.
You could spend weeks in Vegas experiencing all of the shows that take place both on and off The Strip, but Vegas.com has the skinny on all of the best shows and the best deals.
Your Say
What are your favourite things to do in Las Vegas?
Do you have a favourite hotel or attraction?
Let me know in the comments below! I’m regularly checking my comments and replying to them, so I would love your feedback!
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source http://cheaprtravels.com/10-things-to-do-in-vegas-that-arent-gambling-or-drinking-2/
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nightcreations · 2 years
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Hello everyone I am busy editing & making more trek icons BUT, consider this an inbox call. Let me toss some muses into your inbox’s and reply with whoever you want that is specific! 
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nightcreations · 2 years
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🍿 @ dean!!
Send 🍿 ( 'POPCORN') if you can't see/use the emoji for our muses to have a movie/tv watching night together!
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"Listen first rule of us watching from these movies---no chick flicks." Dean is resound as he makes this known to her. His palms resting at his knees, turning to focus emerald hues her way. "I managed to pull a good selection though. Some classics, and some newer -ish stuff. But I also got--" He pulls out of the grey plastic bag a true winner. A western of course. "This bad boy. Tombstone. Use to love it when I was a kid, and kind of--well, influenced my western taste I guess."
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nightcreations · 2 years
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Inbox call! leave a like and reply if you want someone specific or you’ll get wild carded. 
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nightcreations · 2 years
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Leaving this here as an inbox call. I will toss muses into your inbox ( specify w / a reply if you want a specific one ) after I eat some lunch for myself. 
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nightcreations · 2 years
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Hey everyone I’m gonna be taking a break from replies to get a new muse page set-up edited. But in the mean time if you guys want a muse in your inbox please like this post. And specify or it’s mun’s choice. 
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nightcreations · 2 years
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ALRIGHTY now that I got all that business done, I am leaving this here as an inbox call. So leave a like if you're interested &  reply w / a specific muse if you are interested in a single muse! or maybe multiple? Go ahead. 
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nightcreations · 3 years
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Consider this an inbox call. Reply if you want a specific muse or just get a random pick from me! I am feeling that inbox energy today on the dash. 
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nightcreations · 3 years
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Leave a like for an inbox call, reply for a specific muse in your inbox. All muses are available! 
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nightcreations · 2 years
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Inbox Call for fruits basket muses ( HatsuHaru or Ritsu Sohma or Momiji ) if you want any of these three in your inbox please hit a meme up and like this post.
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nightcreations · 4 years
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Hello to the small lot of you following this blog of mine. I am here to give yall your tag drop and reblog some memes. 
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