#BUT LIKE AT THE SAME TIME I AM LAUGHING IN TRIUMPH WITH ALL THE SPLENDOR OF A KING

[ziipzeepzop-eez]

TOKA HAD BABIES I REPEAT

TOKA

HAD

BABIES

😭😭😭

[mariami5980]

IF DEATH SPOKE

"If you push yourself to go faster, you will catch me. If you slow down, I shall catch you. If you walk peacefully, I shall accompany you. If you start to turn around, I shall dance with you. Since our meeting is inevitable, face me at once! I am your inner shadow, the one laughing behind the illusion you call reality. Patient as a spider, set like a jewel in each of your moments, I am the one with whom you share your life—or if you refuse this, you will not be living in the truth. You can flee to the other side of the world; I shall always be by your side. Since the time you were bom, I am the mother that never stops bringing you into the world. So rejoice! It is only when you grasp me that life becomes meaningful. The demented who do not recognize me cling to things without seeing I own them all. There is nothing that does not bear my seal. Permanent impermanence, I am the secret of the sages: they know they can only advance on my path.

"Those who incorporate me become powerful minds. Those who deny me, seeking vainly to escape, lose the delights of the ephemeral. Although they are in Being, they do not know how to be. While trapped in anguish, they do not know how to live.

"Children cannot imagine me. If they did, they would stop being children, for I am the end of childhood. Those who recognize me on their path become adults. They know that they belong to me. I devour their difficulties, their triumphs, their failures, their loves, their disappointments, their pleasures, their pains, their parents, their children, their pride, their illusions, their wealth. I devour everything. My voraciousness is boundless; I even devour the gods. But when I reach the last of them, the authentic one, once the masks dissolve in my entrails, I break my teeth on him. In his indescribable mystery, in his absent presence, in his present absence, I kill myself... I only swallow egos. Each has a different taste, each one more bitter and fetid than the last.

"Thanks to me, everything turns into dust and collapses. But do not think this is a tragedy. I make destruction a process of extreme splendor. I wait for life to display its most supreme beauty; that is when I appear to eliminate it with the same beauty. When it reaches the limits of its growth, I begin to destroy it with the same love that was used to build it. What joy! What immeasurable joy! My permanent destruction opens the way to constant creation. If there is no end, there can be no beginning. I am at the service of eternity, your eternity. If you devote yourself to transformation, you will become the master of the ephemeral moment, because you will live it in its infinite intensity. It is because of me that desire is bom in the belly, in the genitals. Coitus serves to conquer eternity. "If you did not have a material body, I would not exist. When you become pure mind, pure spirit, I disappear. Without matter, I no longer exist. So dare to dispose of your flesh and bones in my mouth! To win, you must give me everything you have, which has truly always belonged to me. Your ideas, your feelings, your desires, and your needs, all belong to me. If you want to keep something, tiny as it may be, you who are nothing and possess nothing will lose it. You will lose eternity.

"Understand this: in my extreme darkness, I am the eye of the unthinkable that you might call God. I am also God's will. Thanks to me, you return to God. I am the divine door: he who enters my territory is a sage, and he who cannot consciously cross my threshold is a fearful child caparisoned in his detritus. You must enter me pure. Get rid of everything, even detachment; annihilate yourself. It is only when you disappear that God appears.

'You want strength? By accepting me, you are the strongest. You want wisdom? By accepting me, you are the wisest. You want courage? By accepting me, you are the most courageous. Tell me what you want! If you become my lover, I shall give it to you. When you feel me becoming part of your body, I transform the concept that you have of yourself. I make you dead in life and grant you the pure gaze of the dead: two unattached holes through which only God gazes. The instant then becomes terrible; everything is transformed into a mirror, and you see yourself in every being, every form, every process. What you call 'life' becomes a dance of illusions. There is no longer any difference between matter and dream.

"Don't shiver, have no fear, rejoice! Life, although unreal and ephemeral, reveals its greatest beauty in the moment. By giving me your gaze, you will finally understand that it is a miracle to be alive.

"I do not like it when people recognize me before their time. I want people to call me at the precise moment they grasp who I am. If you rush me by committing suicide, I shall bring no wisdom, as you have made a travesty of me as vulgar destruction. I am not an absurd misfortune. I have a profound meaning; I am the great initiator, the intangible Teacher crouched beneath matter. When I am solicited dementedly, you make me angry, and I am made to act against my will. Only those who reach me in full awareness give me supreme bliss. But the majority of beings come to me ignorantly through war, crime, vice, illness, and catastrophes. Rare are those who reach that state of pure Consciousness in which I become the apogee of realization. These individuals never cease to recognize me, whereas I come as a surprise to the others. He who resigns himself with understanding to accept being my prey lives with ease, in freedom and joy, faces aggression with confidence and without nightmares, and realizes his desires. By losing hope, we also lose fear.

"Do not offer me your hand, for I shall immediately cause it to rot. Offer me your consciousness. Disappear within me, in order to finally become the Totality!"

[constantfluxx]

FAREWELL WANDERLUST BY THE AMAZING DEVIL FOR THE TUNE CRUISE * SCREAMS *

HI I AM THE ONE WHO REQUESTED FAREWELL WANDERLUST AND FORGOT TO SPECIFY WHICH SHIP. OF COURSE. GERASKIER OR JASKIER POV WHATEVER REALLY, OK? THANKS. ILU.

🎶The Evening Earworm Tune Cruise: The SS 200🎶

Port of Call: Geraskier! 🐺👨‍🎤Itinerary: Farewell Wanderlust by The Amazing DevilCaptain: @kiomaya 🧜‍♀️

Farewell Wanderlust, you’ve been oh oh so kindYou brought me through this darkness but you left me here behindAnd so long to the person you begged me to be

He took in a deep, steadying breath. His fingers trembled around the neck of his lute. Eyes closed, he mentally coached himself, willing his nerves to settle at least long enough for his voice to sing true. It’s just another performance. How many times have you done this before? It’s no big deal.

Except he knew he was lying to himself.

This was hardly “just another performance.” Far from it. It took him forever to finally write a song sharing Geralt’s “defeat” of the dragon with the world. Even longer to perform it. And, when he finally did, it was… not his best work. One could hardly expect him to sing such a tale with such passion and intrigue when its epilogue was laced with a pain he couldn’t bring himself to bare. It was technically perfect, as his work of late usually was, but the emotion was missing. He was missing.

This song… This performance… This is where it had run off to. Where it’d been hiding ever since his return from that mountainside. It took him longer than he’d like to admit to finally recognize it as the problem - or perhaps he’d known all along, but refused to acknowledge it because it would reopen too many wounds, resurface too much hurt. Finally, the lacerations across his heart had begun to scar just enough for him to look, to examine, to embrace.

All that had happened… It was an indisputable part of him now, no matter how much pain it caused him, and would continue to cause him. He couldn’t move forward while leaving a part of him in the past - it was all or nothing, and he understood that now.

He doubted the unsuspecting townsfolk filling their bellies at the local tavern particularly cared to hear about his heartbreak. Songs of joy and adventure and triumph tended to draw far more coin than songs of misery and suffering and defeat. But this wasn’t for coin, not primarily anyhow. For this one song, this one performance, it wasn’t about the job.

It was bout reclaiming himself. About owning his life. About declaring his agony so irrefutably that he would have no choice but to recognize it as his own and finally, finally, start to address it head-on.

And wasn’t that a kind of personal victory, in its own, awful way?

He opened his eyes. He gazed out upon his feasting audience, upon their grumbling banter and stomping feet and clanking flagons. And he saw hair of white, and swords of silver, and eyes of yellow.

Delicate, flitting fingertips plucked away the beginning notes, deceptively light and whimsical. His voice followed in sweet accompaniment, painting the first syllable in a long, arcing embrace before twirling into its prancing opening measure.

“You look like I need a drink he winked as he slipped from my grasp to the barAnd you are?”

As he rounded out the opening lyrics, the catchy, playful tune drew those listening ears into a light nodding alongside his rhythm. Just as he’d once been distracted by Geralt’s splendor, so too were they taken by his light sing-song, and even as something more sinister began to sneak between his words they sooner suspected the start of some grand tale than the foreboding of tragedy.

Sooner just evidence of the Witcher’s social neglect than a pattern of distancing dissent.

“Every time that you fumble, I’m the laugh from the backWhen you think about him, my wings start to flapWhen you make a mistake, my feet lift from the floorAnd when you lie there awake every night love, I soar”

The notes were turning darker. The words weren’t turning towards a new tomorrow. Rather than circle back, they basked in their darkness, reveled in the furrowed brows and wary glances. His pace built, the ebb and flow of his song’s tide swirling into a tumultuous churning from shore to shore. Too late to swim to safety, the listening hearts searched for the sun - surely it was just around the corner, just after the next typhoon?

Surely, he’d come to his senses and warm up to the company?

“I’m the heartbreak that aches far too much to be shownAll those letters unsent and that garden ungrownI’m the captain of courage you’ve eternally lackedI’m the Jesus of wishing to Christ he’ll come back”

The wave crashed down upon them. Hope of survival glimmered in its wake, breaking free of the surface for a vital breath of precious air. A single ray of sunlight touched their faces… but it proved only to be the eye of a surmounting storm, one which raged more furiously than anything before it. It dragged them back down into his suffering, and like troublesome dogs their faces were forced to behold his wretched distress. But rather than recoil away from the filth, they stared, held in place by the voice that wrapped around their necks like nooses. They witnessed the unfolding of his wounded heart, the casting aside of the love that had poisoned it, and the thrashing of his despair in this pit he’d been left in.

How could someone so beautiful be capable of something so cruel?

“Come devil come, she sang, call out my nameLet’s take this outside cos we’re one and the sameOur god has abandoned us, left us, insteadTake up arms, take my hand, let us waltz for the dead”

The notes of his lute had slowed once more, heavy and trudging. Where once had been whimsy now there rang spite: a lesson learned, and with it the reckless abandon of love’s unburdened prisoner. Only here, at the very depths of his sorrow, could all his emotion at last gather into a crude ladder he could use to pull himself out. Because Love had cast him down, he stood up. Because Love had said he couldn’t, he did. Because Love demanded he stay, broken and defeated, he threw Love away, put himself back together, and reached for something new.

He didn’t know what kind of life could possibly come after Geralt, but he knew, at least, that he’d rather search and know than never even look.

“Farewell Wanderlust, you’ve been oh oh so kindYou brought me through this darkness but you left me here behindAnd so long to the person you begged me to beHe’s down. He’s dead.Now take a long look at what you’ve done to me?”

It was hardly a happy resolution. It was ugly and gritty and tormented, but then what else could have ever come from this war? Nonetheless, as he led his audience into this final arch of their journey, his song blossomed into a kind of vindictive triumph, one that dared the world to try, just try and drag him back into the darkness. It would not, it must not, they collectively swore.

Perhaps, one day, Geralt would come back. It’d be splendid if he did - truly. For then, he could see the rotting carcass of the man Jaskier had to shed in order to forge himself anew. Then, maybe, he’d realize the sins he’d committed, recognize the way he’d sheared Jaskier’s heart to shreds and cast them off the mountainside.

But whether or not he ever did would no longer be a thing Jaskier concerned himself with.

“He’s down, He’s deadHe’s gone, He’s lostHe’s flown, He’s fledNow take a good long look at what you've all done to me”

As Jaskier declared his final words to the crowd, his fingers flew along the strings of his lute, releasing its last, swelling vibrato through the small tavern. The sound grew and grew, until at last it burst into an abrupt silence that swept in and suffocated what few lingering embers might still yet burn for the captivating Witcher.

For a suspenseful moment, not a soul dared disturb it, and even when the daily rumblings of the tavern began to creep back into place no one offered applause - such a thing just didn’t seem right after such an emotional experience as the one which had just unfolded all around them. Not even Jaskier himself offered any levity to the situation, trading his usual bow and playful quip for a simple nod of his head, more for himself than his audience. A small, silent affirmation of his deed, a thanks he afforded himself for finally releasing his pain to the winds of change.

He turned from them and retreated back to his sparse belongings, joining the rest in the tavern in a strange normalcy that pretended like nothing had ever happened. Not but a single soul challenged it, stepping towards him so quietly he hadn’t noticed them until a tiny, trembling finger touched the sleeve of his doublet. Startled, he turned to regard his visitor, a now-distant corner of his mind wondering if he’d find a calloused hand gloved in black.

Of course not. The touch had been too small, too flighty, too careful.

She stared up at him with a round, teary-eyed face, mouth hanging slightly ajar as she still searched for something to say. Studying him, seeing her own shaken state reflected in him, her brow furrowed, and in her eyes he saw an approaching understanding. At last, she murmured, taken with frightful awe, “That... was miserable... ?”

His eyes flickered down, catching the glint of a small trio of coins sequestered in her upturned palm. He knew well what her drifting, questioning inflection reached for, but he only smiled and shook his head, folding her fingers closed around her coin.

“Sometimes, my dear,” he whispered, voice still shuddering from lingering passion, “life is miserable.”

He paused. Chuckled. Hoisted his lute upon his shoulder by the strap of its case.

“And that’s okay.”

[kmomof4]

Hello darling! i know "Arise, My Love" isn't posted in its entirety yet, but i know you've written lots and lots of it, so, for that - and the writer's ask, could you please answer 1, 6, 7, 17? THANK YOU!!!! ❤❤❤❤

Hello darlin!!!!! Oh, my goodness! Why am I not surprised that you’ve asked for Arise, My Love? I KNEW you were trying to get sneak peeks!!!!

1. What is my favorite thing about this fic?

That’s easy, Vampire Killian!!!

6. Favorite line of narration

Sorry, this one is loooooonnnnnnnnng...

Rumplestiltskin arrived in Versailles at the height of summer. Magic disguised his true form from the eyes of the aristocracy that gathered this night in a garish display of pomp and splendor. His eyes scanned the ballroom before him before they landed on his quarry. The tall, raven haired vampire’s eyes met his own from his place on the ballroom floor.

The sire connection he shared with Killian was something that he could tap in to at any time to find his progeny and make his life miserable. It had been several decades since he had last sought out his offspring, and he felt it was time to up the stakes of their encounters. In the past, unleashing disease near his location, or even on his ship, or sending magical storms that he’d have to battle had been favorite tactics with which to bedevil him. But now, he sought his person. He desired to ascertain exactly how he was living, how he was making his living, what kind of social standing he had, who, if anyone, he cared about, enabling him to swoop in and take it all away.

Blue eyes flashed red with surprise when they met his own dark irises. He couldn’t help the delighted grin that broke from his thin lips as their gazes broke momentarily when Killian turned on the dancefloor. Eyes locking again, images paraded themselves across his mind, images that he didn’t recognize right away. Images of a chateau within a green valley and a family gathered for a meal with his progeny among them.

A manic giggle bubbled up as he realized exactly what was happening. Eye contact between them opened the corridors of their minds. This was the first time since he had created the much younger vampire that they had been in each other's physical presence, so this was the first time that this had ever occurred. In the brief moments that their eyes held, he saw everything that he needed to know about the life that his offspring now led. He saw the people that were important to him. Including the young woman that he danced with now. Perhaps she would be suitable for his next victim, he mused as he continued to scan the room until his gaze landed on the other woman from the visions he was privy to.

She also watched his quarry as he twirled his partner around the floor that gleamed and glowed with the light of what must be a thousand candles. Her eyes shone with undisguised joy as the young couple danced before she leaned toward one of the other women in the small circle that surrounded her talking and gesticulating animatedly.

The music swelled toward the climax, drawing his attention back toward the couple on the dance floor. His eyes narrowed just as Killian briefly turned his way again, but avoided looking directly at him before he could capture and hold his gaze, trying to delve even deeper into the mind of his greatest triumph. He decided at that point to make his way over to the other woman. If, as he suspected, she was anyone of importance to Killian, that would only be advantageous to his cruel designs.

7. Favorite bit of dialogue

Also long... sorry 🤷🏻‍♀️

“Uncle Killian,” little Anna cried, “guess what?” She had very nearly flown from her place on the chaise lounge where she had been bouncing in her exuberance. She now stood before him nearly vibrating trying to contain the torrent of words that it was nearly killing her to hold back right now.

Killian knelt down before her and lifted her into his arms as he continued to where a much more sedate Elsa waited patiently for them on one of the other lounges. “What is it, my lamb?” He settled down next to Elsa and gave his full attention to the elated little girl in his arms.

“We have a new baby,” she very nearly squealed.

“AnewsisterMamacalledfromthehospitalthismorningtotellusthatababygirlhadbeenbornlastnightintheEmergencyRoombutthemamaleftsothebabyhasnoonetotakecareofhersowe’regonnatakecareofhershe’llbeoursister.” Anna’s words tumbled out of her so quickly that Killian had trouble keeping up. He looked toward Elsa with barely disguised confusion on his face.

Elsa released a long suffering sigh, as only a six year old could. “You have to slow down, Anna,” she exasperated. “Mama will be bringing home a new sister for us. She was born last night.” Killian couldn’t help the chill that ran down his spine at that information. “But the mama left before morning. Since Mama is already approved to be a foster parent, we get to have her.” At this, some of the excitement that Elsa usually kept inside, leaked through. Her blue eyes sparkled and the smile that broke over her face rivaled the sun at noon. “Mama said that we’ll adopt her and she’ll be our sister. She’ll have the same last name and everything!”

“Oh, my darlings,” he exulted, “that is indeed wonderful news!” He reached over and pulled Elsa to him in a side hug as Anna was doing her best to strangle him with the force of her embrace. “When will Ingrid be bringing her home and when may I come see the new addition to the family?”

“Mama said it would be a few days before she could bring her home,” Elsa volunteered, “so maybe this weekend.” She shrugged.

“Alright then,” he replied. “I will call this evening after your mama gets home and get some more details.” He stood back up with Anna still in his arms and started toward the kitchen. “And now, my lambs, have you had breakfast? Would you like some French toast? I know how you love Mr. Starkey’s French toast.”

The girl's squeals had nearly the same effect on the windows that the lightning had the night before. Killian laughed as he led them from the patio to the kitchen.

17. Did this fic challenge you as a writer, and if so, how?

Oh my WOOOOOORRRRRRRRD!!!! YES!!!!! Which you know very well, missy!!!

This fic has been MONTHS in the making and I have gotten seriously bogged down in several sections. So it has truly been a challenge in perseverance. This is the longest I’ve spent on anything! And of course much thanks and credit has to go to @hollyethecurious and @profdanglaisstuff for being my sounding board/brainstorm buddy and beta extraordinaire/research savior, respectively. I’m closing in on the end of this thing and I never would have gotten this far without them! As well as everyone on the CSSNS discord for all their encouragement over the months!

Thanks for the ask, Stephanie!

Send me a number and a fic I wrote to go with it!

[valentineheaven]

Santa Bring My Baby Back To Me (Jack Lowden x Reader) / Part of “The Book Of Christmas” Series

Here is the third part of my «The Book Of Christmas» series. Again a lot of love and tenderness. This magic holiday is already very close, so spend it with those you love.

Summary: You can have a wonderful and sweet relationship for a long time, but at one point, one oversight can kill all feelings. You broke up with Jack after four years of relationships. But have not you hurried? Perhaps your love is not killed? Today is Christmas and, maybe, it will help you to be together again.

Song: Elvis Presley – Santa Bring My Baby Back (To Me)

In all this Christmas bustle it is impossible to find any person who would be sad or upset. It seems that thanks to this festive and magical atmosphere, people simply forget about all their worries and just live wrapped up in a fairy tale. It seems that comfort and love reign everywhere.

Jack stood at the window of his apartment and looked at all this magic from a height of seventeen floors.

To him, the past few months have been incredibly bad and difficult. All this is because three months ago you broke up after four years of relationship. In truth, you were one of the most beautiful couples, your friends were jealous of your relationship. Jack loved you very much and seems to still love you.

All these several months of his thoughts were filled with thoughts of you. He tried to forget you - plunged himself into the work, filming in several films at the same time; a month lived in Scotland, every day occupying himself somehow; often met with friends in pubs and clubs - but all is useless. Thoughts about you can’t be drowned in alcohol or lost in the virgin Scottish forests. The reminder of you is everywhere. It seems that it reigns in the air - invisible, but so intoxicating.

Here he is, drunk without wine, riding on a nightly illuminated by thousands of garlands London to meet another opportunity to forget about you. Today everyone is celebrating Christmas, so Jack was invited to a gala dinner in one film company. Briefly examining, crowned with gold garlands, the streets of the British capital, Jack smiles, remembering all his memories connected with this wonderful holiday. He recalls how, in his childhood, in a cozy Scottish house with his brother, he unpacked presents; how he watched Christmas movies with you and danced surrounded by a star shining sky.

Because of all these memories of you, family and Christmas, he didn’t notice how he came to the venue for the dinner. It was a tall glass building, the last floor of which seemed to be making a hole in the innocent blue canvas of the night sky. At the entrance to the building, the paparazzi were already on duty, wishing to snatch the best shots. Jack quickly skipped past the camera clicks and entered the film company building.

The hall in which the dinner was held was almost at the top - the twentieth floor. Just stepping into this room, the guests immediately fell into the solemn atmosphere of the main holiday. In the hall there was practically no bright light, it was only lighted by light yellow overflows of floor lamps and neon lights of hung garlands. The view from the windows goes straight to the sky … It was necessary to lower your head to see the city, but it does not need anything when you see such a magical view. Jack seemed to have disappeared long ago in all this splendor.

“Hey Jack!” – someone shouted loudly.

It was his old friend who works in this company. He walked over to Jack and hugged him tightly.

“As I have not seen you for a long time” – the guy said with a broad smile.

“I’m also very glad to see you” – Jack replied with a tight smile.

“You’re some kind of lost. Don’t you like it here?”

“No, I like it here: music, people and view” - said Jack, pointing to the blue cloth of the sky behind him.

“I know it’s not easy for you now, this whole bunch of work, interviews, parting with Y/N, but today all this can be left behind,” - the guy said with a smile, putting a friendly hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Besides, there are a lot of interesting people here today, many representatives of the film industry, with whom, I am sure, you will have something to talk about. And by the way …” - the guy continued to talk about something briskly, but Jack already did not listen, did not look at him.

All his attention, all the interest of his gaze at this moment was chained to the girl who entered the room. To the girl in a black dress, fitting all the charms of her beautiful figure. It was you. The same you who broke up with him a few months ago, but only now you have become even more beautiful. It’s like a few months you have painted your beauty, filling it with a new life. Your face shone with beauty, so virgin and gentle that it made your image even more fragile and feminine.

You didn’t notice Jack in this whole crowd, but he noticed you long before you came in. Together with you, that intoxicating feeling that reigned everywhere, wherever Jack went, entered that hall.

“I’m sorry, I need to go” - Jack said quickly, interrupting his friend.

He didn’t know whether you think about him or not, it doesn’t matter to him. The important thing is that you are here, that he can see you. You stand at a table with snacks, holding a crystal glass of champagne in your hand, and talking to someone briskly. Jack decided to wait until you were alone to say hello to you.

He knew that he still loved you, that he needed you. All the months spent without you were the most nebulous months in his life. Everything seemed wrapped in a dense fog through which nothing could be seen. He walked, trying to cope with his thoughts about you, trying not to get lost in all this, but something pulled him back.

“Hello” - softly and sweetly you whispered in his ear.

Jack turned to you; his face was already full of a big smile.

“Hello” - also melodically and tenderly he said. “I didn’t expect to meet you here. Did you decide to work in a movie industry?”

“No, of course not” - you smiled. “I was invited by my friend - Natalie, you know, it’s incredibly stupid and boring to sit on Christmas at home alone, and it’s not possible to visit a family dinner, because the family is far away. So I gladly accepted her invitation” - you smiled sincerely, you answered Jack.

He was the same as he was before, beautiful and calm, smiling and cheerful, kind and beloved. Yes, beloved ones. After breakup with him, you went to your parents in Italy for a month, (your family is full-blooded British, but they have lived in Italy for sixteen years). But – neither the Italian nature, nor the Florentine guys, nor the work – couldn’t make you forget about this Scottish man who for four long years was the meaning of your whole life. Or maybe he still the meaning of your whole life?

“Where did you spend those four months?” - Jack asked, although he knew where you were.

“Well, I went to visit my family in September. Autumn in Italy is especially beautiful. Then for a long three months I went to work, wrote a lot of good reviews and articles, everything else as usual” - you said, taking a sip of some champagne from the glass. “And you?”

“The only place I went was Scotland, I had visited my family too, then a couple of interesting projects turned up and I started to go to the shooting, probably spent two months on all these films" - he laughed softly.

“Are you dating with anyone now?” – said you unexpectedly for both of you.

“Um …” - Jack drawled; by the expression of his embarrassed face, you realized that you shouldn’t have asked about it. “No, I’m not” - with a smile, he finally answered.

In truth, you were very much afraid of what he would say. This second pause between his words seemed to you a long time into eternity. But, having heard that he is alone, in your soul triumph has triumphed.

“And you?” - Jack asked quietly, but your attention, like the attention of everyone in the hall, was riveted to the man in a gray suit standing in another corner of the hall. Jack turned to see him.

It was the head of the film company, who arranged this dinner. He was a middle-aged man of strong build and with pleasant gray-blue eyes, which made his expression so kind. He stood against the embroidered with stars sky, holding a fragile glass in his hand, in which champagne was scattered like fireworks. The arrow on the clock slowly crawled to the number twelve on the dial, so the head of the company decided to make a festive speech.

“I know how tired you are of my long statements about the cinema and the meaning of cinema, which I tell you every single day,” - he began with a smile. “But today I’m not going to bore you with these boring conversations, especially since tomorrow we have a meeting according to plan” - in the hall there was a piercingly quiet laugh.

You watched, observing all the words that this man says. He looked like the man who had already seen a lot and who wouldn’t say foolish words.

Jack was also interested in his performance, but occasionally the glare of his eyes fell on you, watching the way you listened to the words of the head of the company.

“Today we celebrate one of the most long-awaited, most beautiful and most magical holidays of the year - Christmas. For one day we have the right to forget about everything - about work, about studies, about problems - and just enjoy all the splendor that surrounds us today. For one day we have the right to feel like children. Ask, why children?”

“Why children?” - shouted from the crowd one of the guests, interrupting the head of the company. Stone silence was deafening laughter.

“Thank you for asking, Miles, I appreciate your enthusiasm,“ - the man said with a kind smile, turning to the guy in the crowd, and continued. "Because children are, in my opinion, a symbol of Christmas, because it’s these little creatures looking up at us from the bottom up with their big clean eyes, the only ones who can make us believe in the existence of real magic, because their souls are so pure, and the hearts are so blooming that they themselves can easily act as the embodiment of magic”

All the time of his performance in the hall stood a fragile, like crystal, silence, which didn’t want to break with a single rustle. All that you heard is the loud voice of the head of the company and the intermittent breath standing next to you Jack.

"So now, when the clock arrow hits twelve, forget that you are an adult man and woman, forget that you have some worries and problems, and remember yourself as a child. Find in your heart a part of the heart that still breathes childhood, let it instantly take possession of your whole being and just believe in magic. Become the personification of a magic. Become a child and make a wish. Guess what you really want»

He finished his speech exactly when the clock struck twelve. A loud rumble broke the crystal silence and announced that it was time to believe in a miracle.

While clock continued to beat sharp sounds, there was silence in the hall, those little girls and boys stood in the hall, who, crossing their soft fingers, whispered their secret desires, knowing that they would necessarily be fulfilled.

Jack found in himself that little red-haired boy and made his wish.

"Dear Santa, bring my baby Y/N back to me” - he said with his lips, without a single sound, and opened his eyes.

“I congratulate you, friends and colleagues!  Merry Christmas!” - said the head of the company and raised his glass.

“Merry Christmas!” - chorus repeated all the guests and drank their champagne.

Soft light gently plume fell to the pad in the middle of the hall, where a few minutes ago there was a crowd of bewitched listeners. Tart female voice, singing in rhythm to the slow melody, as a light mist fell on the floor, wrapping the dancing couples.

“I hope you will give me a dance?” - giving you an intoxicating smile, asked Jack.

“Of course” - you smiled and went with him towards the dance floor.

You stood in the middle of the hall, bathed in silver lights of the soffits. You haven’t danced together so long, so now you were overwhelmed with an incredible feeling. A kind of passion mixed with virgin sympathy. This feeling was read in the eyes of both of you.

With one hand Jack gently hugged your waist, and with the other hand stroking your back, occasionally touching with his cold fingers your bare shoulder and settling a kind of trembling in your body. It was not just gentle touches; it was the touch of a loved one. Your face covered the silver veil of light, your movements were measured and smooth. Jack studied your face, as if trying to find at least some flaw. But there were no flaws in your face, and he knew it.

You loved his soft red hair, so immediately got your fingers in them, gently stroking his head. He liked that, so he smiled at you. His marble-blue eyes, pampered with the caress of light, gently looked at you, making you admire their natural beauty. You both could no longer bear this feeling, which tied you both tightly with a satin ribbon.

This touch is the most tender and the most desirable. The touch of your lips, merged into a tender kiss. His lips slid on yours. You already have forgotten this feeling, covering you during a kiss. You felt a light frosty blush on your cheeks as your lips moved away from each other.

Now you exchanged with each other by the warmth of your intermittent breathing, feeling the thin material of hot breath surrounds your faces.

“Y/N, we both know perfectly well that we still love each other” - you felt the breath of his words on your lips; you felt the taste of his words. “Our breakup a few months ago is a big mistake. If you knew how many times I tried to forget you, and how many times I couldn’t do it” - he said, and taking your chin, lifted your gaze to him.

“I know it’s hard to forget someone whom you loved for many years” - smiling, you started. Jack was a little nervous about these words, but his face still breathed happy calmness. “I also tried to forget you many times, but, dammit, Lowden, you don’t get out of my head even for a minute” - you both laughed softly. “Nothing - neither Italy nor the Florentine guys, nor a lot of work – couldn’t occupy my thoughts more than you” - you looked at him with sunny tenderness in your eyes.

“We should try to start our relationship with a clean slate” - Jack began. «This breakup battered and exhausted both of us; we drowned in the lake of our own thoughts. The New Year is a great opportunity to start a new one and return the old one" - he said quietly, looking intently into your eyes

“We don’t need to forget the old, we just need to continue what was started a long time ago, love is immortal, Jack, you told me about it” - said you, and your lips again burned a kiss.

The head of the company, speaking with a Christmas speech, was right that today we must forget about everything that weighs on us, and believe in the possibility of the miracle surrounding us wherever we go. Those little girls and boys who stood here at twelve o'clock and asked for desires didn’t yet know that they would begin to come true so soon. The power of faith in a miracle, faith in the beautiful helped to direct the magic in the right direction.

The only thing Jack wanted was you. He wanted to cure himself of his love for you, but he couldn’t, because he loved you too much. The only thing you wanted was to find true love. So the Christmas night brought you to Jack. The most sincere and true love that you so wanted to find, lived in his heart. And this love belongs only to you. And today you are convinced of this again.

[dfroza]

Today’s reading in the ancient book of Proverbs and Psalms

for monday, August 17 of 2020 with Proverbs 17 and Psalm 17 accompanied by Psalm 59 for the 59th day of Summer and Psalm 80 for day 230 of the year

[Proverbs 17]

Wisdom’s Virtues

A simple, humble life with peace and quiet

is far better than an opulent lifestyle with nothing

but quarrels and strife at home.

A wise, intelligent servant will be honored above a shameful son.

He’ll even end up having a portion left to him in his master’s will.

In the same way that gold and silver are refined by fire,

the Lord purifies your heart by the tests and trials of life.

Those eager to embrace evil listen to slander,

for a liar loves to listen to lies.

Mock the poor, will you?

You insult your Creator every time you do!

If you make fun of others’ misfortune,

you’d better watch out—your punishment is on its way.

Grandparents have the crowning glory of life:

grandchildren!

And it’s only proper for children to take pride in their parents.

It is not proper for a leader to lie and deceive,

and don’t expect excellent words to be spoken by a fool.

Wise instruction is like a costly gem.

It turns the impossible into success.

Love overlooks the mistakes of others,

but dwelling on the failures of others devastates friendships.

One word of correction breaks open a teachable heart,

but a fool can be corrected a hundred times

and still not know what hit him.

Rebellion thrives in an evil man,

so a messenger of vengeance will be sent to punish him.

It’s safer to meet a grizzly bear robbed of her cubs

than to confront a reckless fool.

The one who returns evil for good

can expect to be treated the same way for the rest of his life.

Don’t be one who is quick to quarrel,

for an argument is hard to stop,

and you never know how it will end,

so don’t even start down that road!

There is nothing God hates more

than condemning the one who is innocent

and acquitting the one who is guilty.

Why pay tuition to educate a fool?

For he has no intention of acquiring true wisdom.

A dear friend will love you no matter what,

and a family sticks together through all kinds of trouble.

It’s stupid to run up bills you’ll never be able to pay

or to cosign for the loan of your friend.

Save yourself the trouble and don’t do either one.

If you love to argue,

then you must be in love with sin.

For the one who loves to boast is only asking for trouble.

The one with a perverse heart never has anything good to say,

and the chronic liar tumbles into constant trouble.

Parents of a numskull will have many sorrows,

for there’s nothing about his lifestyle that will make them proud.

A joyful, cheerful heart brings healing to both body and soul.

But the one whose heart is crushed

struggles with sickness and depression.

When you take a secret bribe,

your actions reveal your true character,

for you pervert the ways of justice.

Even the face of a wise man shows his intelligence.

But the wandering eyes of a fool will look for wisdom everywhere

except right in front of his nose.

A father grieves over the foolishness of his child,

and bitter sorrow fills his mother.

It’s horrible to persecute a holy lover of God

or to strike an honorable man for his integrity!

Can you bridle your tongue when your heart is under pressure?

That’s how you show that you are wise.

An understanding heart keeps you cool, calm, and collected,

no matter what you’re facing.

When even a fool bites his tongue

he’s considered wise.

So shut your mouth when you are provoked—

it will make you look smart.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 17 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 17]

A David Prayer

Listen while I build my case, God,

the most honest prayer you’ll ever hear.

Show the world I’m innocent—

in your heart you know I am.

Go ahead, examine me from inside out,

surprise me in the middle of the night—

You’ll find I’m just what I say I am.

My words don’t run loose.

I’m not trying to get my way

in the world’s way.

I’m trying to get your way,

your Word’s way.

I’m staying on your trail;

I’m putting one foot

In front of the other.

I’m not giving up.

I call to you, God, because I’m sure of an answer.

So—answer! bend your ear! listen sharp!

Paint grace-graffiti on the fences;

take in your frightened children who

Are running from the neighborhood bullies

straight to you.

Keep your eye on me;

hide me under your cool wing feathers

From the wicked who are out to get me,

from mortal enemies closing in.

Their hearts are hard as nails,

their mouths blast hot air.

They are after me, nipping my heels,

determined to bring me down,

Lions ready to rip me apart,

young lions poised to pounce.

Up, God: beard them! break them!

By your sword, free me from their clutches;

Barehanded, God, break these mortals,

these flat-earth people who can’t think beyond today.

I’d like to see their bellies

swollen with famine food,

The weeds they’ve sown

harvested and baked into famine bread,

With second helpings for their children

and crusts for their babies to chew on.

And me? I plan on looking

you full in the face. When I get up,

I’ll see your full stature

and live heaven on earth.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 17 (The Message)

[Psalm 59]

Protect Me

For the Pure and Shining One

King David’s song of instruction composed when Saul set an ambush for him at his home

To the tune of “Do Not Destroy”

My God, protect me!

Keep me safe from all my enemies, for they’re coming to kill me.

Put me in a high place out of their reach—

a place so high that these assassins will never find me.

Save me from these murdering men, these bloodthirsty killers.

See how they set an ambush for my life.

They’re fierce men ready to launch their attack against me.

O Lord, I’m innocent; protect me!

I’ve done nothing to deserve this,

yet they are already plotting together to kill me.

Arise, Lord, see what they’re scheming, and come and meet with me.

Awaken, O God of Israel!

Commander of Angel Armies,

arise to punish these treacherous people who oppose you!

Don’t go soft on these hardcase killers!

Pause in his presence

After dark they came to spy, sneaking around the city,

snarling, prowling like a pack of stray dogs in the night—

boiling over with rage, shouting out their curses,

convinced that they’ll never get caught.

But you, Lord, break out laughing at their plans,

amused by their arrogance, scoffing at their sinful ways.

My strength is found when I wait upon you.

Watch over me, God, for you are my mountain fortress;

you set me on high!

The God of passionate love will meet with me.

My God will empower me to rise in triumph over my foes.

Don’t kill them; stagger them all with a vivid display of power.

And scatter them with your armies of angels,

O mighty God, our protector!

Use your awesome power to make them wanderers and vagabonds

and then bring them down.

They are nothing but proud, cursing liars.

They sin in every word they speak, boasting in their blasphemies!

May your wrath be kindled to destroy them; finish them off!

Make an end of them and their deeds until they are no more!

Let them all know and learn

that God is the ruler over Jacob,

the God-King over all the earth!

Pause in his presence

Here they come again—

prowling, growling like a pack of stray dogs in the city.

Drifting, devouring, and coming in for the kill,

they refuse to sleep until they’ve eaten their fill.

But as for me, your strength shall be my song of joy.

At each and every sunrise, my lyrics of your love will fill the air!

For you have been my glory-fortress,

a stronghold in my day of distress.

O my strength, I sing with joy your praises.

O my stronghold, I sing with joy your song!

O my Savior, I sing with joy the lyrics of your faithful love for me!

The Book of Psalms, Poem 59 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 80]

Rescue and Restore

For the Pure and Shining One

Asaph’s poetic song, set to the tune of “Your Decrees Are Like Lilies”

God-Enthroned, be revealed in splendor

as you ride upon the cherubim!

How perfectly you lead us, a people set free.

Loving shepherd of Israel—listen to our hearts’ cry!

Shine forth from your throne of dazzling light.

In the sight of Benjamin, Ephraim, and Manasseh,

stir up your mighty power in full display before our eyes.

Break through and reveal yourself by coming to our rescue.

Revive us, O God! Let your beaming face shine upon us

with the sunrise rays of glory;

then nothing will be able to stop us.

O God, the mighty Commander of Angel Armies,

how much longer will you smolder in anger?

How much longer will you be disgusted with your people

even when they pray?

You have fed us with sorrow and grief

and made us drink our tears by the bowlful.

You’ve made us a thorn in the side of all the neighboring lands,

and now they just laugh at us with their mocking scorn.

Come back, come back, O God, and restore us!

You are the Commander of Angel Armies.

Let your beaming face shine upon us with the sunrise rays of glory,

and then nothing will be able to stop us!

Remember how you transplanted us here

like a tender vine from Egypt.

You cleared the land for your vineyard,

evicting the nations from your land and planting us here.

The roots of your vineyard went deep into the soil

and filled the land with fruit.

Because of your favor on your vineyard,

blessing extended to every mountain of influence.

Through this flourishing vineyard mighty ones were raised up.

The nations were blessed by your fruitful vineyard of Israel,

all the way from the Mediterranean to the Euphrates.

So Lord, why have you broken down

your fence of favor around us?

Trespassers can steal the fruit from off our vines,

and now every wild beast comes

breaking through our wall to ravage us.

You’ve left us without protection!

Come back, come back, O God to restore us!

You are the Commander of Angel Armies.

Look down from heaven and see our crisis.

Come down and care for your lovely vineyard once again.

Nurture our root and our fruit with your loving care.

Raise up the Branch-Man, the Son whom you’ve made strong.

Enemies chopped down our vine and set it on fire;

now show them your anger and let them perish by your frown.

Strengthen this Branch-Man, the Son of your love,

the Son of Man who dwells at your right hand.

Then we will never turn back from you.

Revive us again, that we may trust in you.

O God, the mighty Commander of Angel Armies,

come back and rescue us!

Let your beaming face shine upon us

with the sunrise rays of glory.

Then nothing will ever stop us again!

The Book of Psalms, Poem 80 (The Passion Translation)

[illyriantremors]

To Call Thee Mine: A Feysand Fic

AN: This was originally written wayyyyyy back last Christmas as part of a fic exchange and I am only.... just now posting it. Whoops! I’m tidying up some things this week, so I figured I’d post this now before I forget.

Summary: Set after the war with Hybern has ended, Feyre and Rhys decide they’re already mates and High Lord & Lady, but now there is still just one ceremony left between them to do. With no better moment than after a victory in war during which they fought for one another, they decide to commit themselves to each other one last time and have the entire Inner Circle there to witness it. AKA it’s a wedding fic people.

AO3 Linkage

To Call Thee Mine

Only the Inner Circle is asked to come.

Well, the Inner Circle and her sisters, of course.

Elain could never have stayed away regardless. She has flowers to bring. Night blooming water lilies, jessamine, and moonflower are woven together into a bewitching arrangement of whites and magentas and midnight blues for Feyre to carry. She drove Lucien wild stitching it together all night.

It compliments the dress beautifully.

Feyre is in Morrigan’s dressing chamber, which she’s borrowed for the evening. She would have preferred to stay home and do it, but Morrigan insists a little tradition never hurt anyone. That and she wants to be there to see the stupid grin she knows will break free over her cousin’s face when he sees what she’s done to his mate. Sees her for the first time.

And oh how she has succeeded in her task like never before.

Morrigan has swept back the top of Feyre’s head in an elegant display of knots and twists that pull together behind her where the rest is allowed to fall loosely down her back in soft waves. There are small gems tucked here and there that Morrigan knows will catch the moonlight off the balcony when they go back to the House of Wind afterwards.

On her face, Feyre’s cheeks are a smooth pink blush - just the lightest touch of it to warm up her crystalline grey eyes. She convinces Mor of an equally soft shade of the color for her lips and the girls laugh as they joke about how long the color will last on those lips after the party is over later on that night.

But the dress - the dress is what will undo him. Of that both girls are sure.

It’s constructed much the same way her Starfall dress was. Slim fitting through the bust and waist before gently floating away from Feyre’s body so that all her curves are seen even if the long sleeves add a modest touch. And it drips in celestial shades of black and grey, sapphire and diamond, little hints of deepest purple fading in and out of the fabric until Feyre looks like the stars glimmering across the night sky as she walks, the dress turning her into the night itself.

This is the High Lady of the Night Court, they think as they look at her and Nesta hands her the silver crown to wear that will match Rhys’s and Elain presents her stunning bouquet and Morrigan pretends not to get weepy in the corner.

The temple is lit with vibrant torches and pits of warm fire that cast a soft glow over the room. The way the light plays out on Feyre’s dress as she turns is hard not to stare at. But then Rhys is there, brothers not far behind, and he doesn’t quite… know how to… handle her.

Across the room, the Inner Circle shares little looks as Rhys and Feyre stare at each other because they know. They know what this night means.

Rhys puts his hands in his pockets like he always does when he’s nervous. If he moves, he will cease to exist because one step closer to her and he’ll burn himself alive with the magic threatening to pour out of him just from the way her scent catches and lingers on his skin.

He thought finding her on Fire Night had been a gift from the Cauldron. He thought saving her in Amarantha’s despised court had been a blessing. He thought the day she claimed the Night Court as her home and him as her mate had been nothing short of a miracle.

But now? Now he understands that this woman is life incarnate, his perfect counter. This moment - it is destiny crafted from the heavens itself. It has to be. Because he’s looking at her like he can see every drop of blood she shed for him and she’s looking at him like she can feel every horror he endured and none of it matters because right now she is beautiful and he is her glory in darkness and there is no going back from this point. There is only them.

Only his violet eyes and her deep blonde hair and the flowers blooming in her hand that only reveal themselves under a dark, piercing night sky like the one the temple opens up to above them. Only the love that called to them both and never stopped working until they found their way to each other.

Mates.

And Rhys has never been more proud of Feyre and how far she has come.

Cassian smirks.

Morrigan beams.

Nesta stands tall and proud.

Elain folds herself into Lucien’s shoulder with the lightest sniffle that he tucks away for her.

And Azriel’s shadows sing the music of this night, dancing off into shadows to reach the furthest corners of the earth where Amren might hear it and whisper Good for you, boy.

The ceremony is kept simple. Traditional even. Rhys asked if it could be that way. There is enough of the Night Court’s pomp and circumstance and fae rituals to shroud them eternally between all of the details crowding around them within the temple’s circular walls.

He wanted to give Feyre a chance to have it her way, to honor the piece of her that remained human, the heart he heard beating in the forest while he was buried under a mountain of dirt and ash a million miles away.

And she agreed to it gladly. In some ways, mate was more than enough and never enough at all. Was it possible to ever have enough of him she wondered most often. As she steps towards him, takes in his tall, lean form clothed in darkness, his wings spread in a glorious ache that she longs to touch and fly and caress, she realizes that - no. She will never have enough of him. If the Cauldron granted her her mate in all his forms, her hunger would never abate, would never satiate and give way to a fullness her life has been void of for far too long. Just when Feyre thinks she has enough of him, he opens a new window into his soul for her to climb through and she sees more, more, more of this imperfect man who saved her.

And she wants to consume him all.

So in the temple, they join hands. They offer every little piece of themselves they have already given: enemies, partners, friends, lovers, mates and now, slipping the rings onto one another’s hands and saying the vows they’ve longed to make, the ones that kept them alive in the middle of death and bloodshed, they add a new depth to the bond - man and wife.

With each exchange, the fires burn a little brighter. The temple feels a little warmer. The smiles stretch a little wider. Velaris hums a little stronger.

And then he is kissing her, his wings sliding around her in slow motion so that all may see, but none may truly know what this is except him and her. And that bond between them - that wicked, sharp, sensuous thing - threatens to knock them all on their feet. Every last one of them feels the power flooding off of it in droves as Feyre pulls Rhys deeper into the kiss. They could drag the heavens through hell and out the other side without getting so much as one single dark blemish on its divinity with that kiss as Feyre takes him deeply.

Mate. My mate.

My friend.

Rhysand.

My husband.

Mine.

M - m - m - m��

Endless. It is endless between them.

The House of Wind above is silent, but the city knows. The city knows what their High Lord and Lady have done. And they celebrate it with wild enthusiasm.

Feyre hears it first. She would recognize that melody the city sends anywhere. How it sweeps through her, soaks into her skin like a kiss you can’t give back. How it soars to take the pains away and replace it with jubilant triumph.

Her hand flies to Rhys’s sitting at the table next to her and her fork drops. He hears it too. Feels it. Between them, a rush of memory flows down the bond like honey. What once was a nightmare of darkness in a prison cell is now Feyre’s first taste of freedom. The first night she felt connected to her mate even if she didn’t quite know it yet.

She will never forget that music. It has been a ghost haunting her for ages and she will never wish it away. That music saved her. The music bound her. That music brought her up, up, up to the rich splendor of night where Rhysand called home and it is hers now.

Tenderness. A soothing caress. And unyielding love. The bond thrums with it as Rhys pulls Feyre up from the table, no questions asked, and pulls her into a dance. Piece by piece, the rest of the world melts away.

Rhys holds Feyre’s hand against his chest while they slowly turn and from the table, Morrigan sits with that devilish gleam in her eye remembering how her cousin first toppled into her room in a broken mess proclaiming her his mate and wondering by the Mother how she could ever understand the depth of his love for her - for this woman cradled against him now more precious than the rubies of the earth or the life waters of the sea - and now look at him. Morrigan wants the whole world to look at him and his mate and know as she does what this moment is.

Her magic unravels the sleeves. They don’t see it. Not at first. Their eyes are either shut entirely as they lose sense of the world or they’re too glued on each other while Rhys counts his mate’s freckles and Feyre focuses on the citrus rolling off his chest, inhaling deeply into his tunic. One stitch at a time, her sleeves disappear until her arms are bare save for those magnificent, inky blue tattoos swirling over her skin that name her his equal. The ink glides down to her fingertips to connect with Rhys and at his kiss, the bond connecting them travels across her hand to his and his tunic too is rolled back so that his tattoos are exposed, a perfect match.

Morrigan sighs happily, relaxing into her chair. She could watch them for a very long time she decides.

Cassian quips that if she isn’t careful, her face will soon be fixed in a permanently dopey gesture and then no one will want to dance with her at Rita’s anymore. A shower of spiced rice cascades over his face and by the time Nesta has wiped it off of him, neither is sure if it is Morrigan’s magic or Azriel’s shadows that moved faster. Elain’s endearing snort is a sound that has them all loosening into peals of laughter as she snuggles into Lucien. She may as well have not taken her own chair at this dinner table.

A pleasant chatter consumes the evening and they all pretend not to notice the moment Rhys and Feyre disappear off the balcony and out of sight altogether, two stars dancing on air through the clouds and mist of darkness they bring together towards home.

Towards each other.

The High Lord and Lady of the Night.

[stephicness]

Peace Among the Chaos :: Ravus Nox Fleuret x Reader

*scratches back of head* Well, I didn’t write it exactly in a second person point of view for a reader perspective, but I really thought this idea would be better excused in this way, so I write it in third person! I hope that’s okay!

A fun writing to do though. So here you go! Have some love at first sight things with Ravus and a love interest. Perhaps if I touch in on this particular ‘reader’ character again, I’ll write it in the second perspective a bit more properly for you, dear anon. :D

The idea of being at social gathering was far from something the high commander enjoyed. Wine flowing, people mingling and gossiping about politics of the empire and the frivolous connotations of the what the empire’s plans were. It was event after event that hardly proved to be of any real interest to the high commander as he carefully meandered around the gallery. The same events that he was forced to – only this time in a different setting.

The gallery was filled with a variety of paintings and works, sculptures and artwork showcasing the works of the artist with the prestige enough to be able to display their art amongst Niflheim’s most renown art museum. Apparently, it was a show that the Imperial Chancellor refused to miss. Thus, against the commander’s free-will, he came in attendance with the chancellor. Well, he was supposed to be a guest of his, but the chancellor enjoyed the light of the situation. As he flaunted his feathers, the commander merely let his eyes wander along each of the paintings that decorated itself across the walls. Each stroke was done with a sense of precision and grace. The abstraction of flowers dancing across the canvases as various narrative were told. Of triumph, of chaos, of splendor and joy. Beautiful works and a beautiful show, but the crowd of people hardly seemed interested in the works, more taken with the idea of being able to converse with one another about the latest scandals.

And yet he was able to stare at the artwork himself, analyzing the tiny formal details of the work as he passed by with each slow step. But his footing eventually stopped as he paused in front of one of the massive canvases. His focus homed in on this particular work: a portrait of two figures, forever portrayed in a dance as petals danced around them, dripping with blue and magneta colors. Out of the other orderly paintings and drawings, this one held a different air to it, stained of ink, a chaos of flowers as the two figures were caught in the chaos. And yet as the background of aggressive strokes and marks closed the negative space around them, the focus of the painting remained the calm area where the figures embraced. Hands were tangled in a twisted form as if the figures became one. Bound together for eternity and captured on the canvas. The commander’s eyebrows furrowed the longer he looked at the painting, having to step closer and observe the stains of ink and paint upon the canvas. It was a work that brought forth a serenity and romance to it, yet it was surrounded by a chaos unheard of compared to the rest of the works in the gallery. Emotions and turmoil that felt as if it touched the soul of those that took the time to gaze into the work. A masterpiece…

“You must really like this painting, don’t you~?” The high commander’s focus was disrupted all too quickly, causing a small jolt to surge through his body as he stood upright and looked at the voice that interrupted him. The expression the commander wore seemed to provoke a small laugh from the person, a smile spreading over their thin lips. His eyes narrowed before he looked back up towards the painting.

“Is that an issue to find appreciation in the artwork…?”

“Ah! Not at all.” The individual smiled at the commander, allowing themselves to advance forward and next to where the commander stood. “It’s just that, I mean… Usually people can only view a piece of art for about seven seconds before they move along. You’ve been looking at this painting for about a thirty instead.” He gave a sideward glance at them, noticing as they calmly tucked their hands behind their back, hiding away a black book they held in their hands. A bright smile lingered on their face as they too admired the work before them. He felt a sense of turmoil in the work, but the way they looked at the painting… It was so hopeful. Just as the individual turned towards the commander, he quickly looked back to the painting to avoid eye contact. “What do you like about this painting anyways…? It just seems like, you know, another painting? It doesn’t look like it fits in with the others.”

The silver-haired man paused, eyebrows furrowing for a moment as he shifted his weight back on his leg. An odd question to ask… But even he couldn’t quite comprehend what caused him to become so interested in this painting. He was quiet in thought, collecting his words before he gestured with his hand. “I believe it is because it is different that I find interest in it. A lack of control over the process itself. And yet, the artist struggles to find control. A balance and peace between the precision of painting the figure, versus the chaos of abstraction around them all.”

“You figure it would clash though, wouldn’t it?” They tilted their head, pursing their lips before they glanced back up at the taller man. “What do you think it all means, anyways?”

He shook his head in response. “It is a pleasing contrast, for nothing can be in order. The only thing that may mend the chaos is where you place your small bit of solace.” He lets out a small sigh, hanging his gaze as he brought his arms up to cross them over his chest. “In this case, the artist most likely thinks that solace can be found in another soul… A light amongst the dark, I suppose.”

“You really think so…? That the artist wanted to show that chaos can be remedied somehow?”

“No one can be for certain…” He finally worked up the courage to return his gaze to the viewer of the work, meeting their gaze with an arch of his eyebrow as they looked back at him. An odd figure, one much different than the others that were too distracted from the work. A face much more innocent than they as well, eyes bright and enthusiastic as if captivated by what the high commander had to say. Even the smile they wore was genuine, humbling to the point where the commander’s eyes widened and he had to return his eyes back to the painting before the two of them. Another laugh came from the figure next to him as they too looked back at the painting once more. “What do you think? What significance and meaning does the painting hold for you?”

“To me?” They tilted their head in thought, adjusting their hands to press their palm against their lower back. A hum came from the viewer, a good long moment before they grinned, looking up to the high commander with that luminous smile that caused the commander’s stoic expression to falter. “I think the artist just really wanted to play with inks and made a mess of things~”

He scoffed and shook his head. “Is that truly all?”

“I mean, sometimes the artist can have a simplistic meaning for doing a piece. Not all of it’s about struggle and torment!” Their laughter was contagious enough for the commander’s lips to curl into a small smile. They did have a point, he realized. But the viewer smiled, gently tucking their hands behind their back once more as they rocked on their feet in a playful manner. “Maybe though… Maybe it’s about the fact that you don’t have to be lonely in all of the chaos. You can find peace and solace. But it doesn’t really mean much unless you have someone to share your peace with, you know? Friends, family, lovers… Having someone to share the peace with you is one of the most calming thoughts in the storm of the world.”

The commander grew quiet with the viewer’s words. He had assumed it was mostly a placed trust. But perhaps it was deeper than that. Instead of one giving to the other, it was the hearts of both figures… Odd, but somewhat pleasant to think about. Loneliness, after all, was a cruel thing. Just as he had wandered the gallery alone, unable to share his thoughts and wandering in silence amongst the sea of people.

Until he met them…

The two slowly turned to look at each other once more, a silence settling between the two as eyes met once more. It was rare for him to have such a conversation as intellectuals, and there was a comfort in being able to voice his thoughts on the work. It felt natural… And the air they gave as well, the gaze that considered his soul and the words he spoke… It was a calm in the chaos, and one that he was pleased to share. He tilted his head carefully at the smaller viewer, turning to face them properly as they too turned to face him.

“Allow me to properly introduce myself. I am-“

“Ravus Nox Fleuret. I know.” Ravus was a bit stunned at how he was unable to continue his introduction. He held his hand up partway, hesitating on whether or not to retract his hand. But they merely continued to smile as they gently reached up and took hold of the commander’s hand. “I asked the chancellor about who you were.”

“Is that so…” They had such a delicate hold, but Ravus could take notice in the faint blue stains that stuck around their fingernails and knuckles. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he investigated further, eying the inked stains on their hand closer. Must have been from a broken pen, he assumed. He looked back to them, deliberately placing a kiss atop their knuckles. A subtle apology for being so fascinated by their hands. “A pleasure to meet you, though my introduction has been done for me, it seems.”

“I don’t mind, to be honest.” He noticed how their face flushed with a red color, a stifled and crooked smile crossing over their face as they shifted on their feet. Once Ravus released their hand, they quickly pulled their hand back and hid them behind their back. “It’s really nice to meet you! There’s so many faces here that it’s nice to know at least one name.”

Ravus nodded as he gave a soft smile in return. “That is true… I do not know many faces myself. The artist has not even shown their face either, from what I have noticed.”

“Oh, I think they’re lurking around somewhere.” The viewer glanced around the gallery, standing up on their toes in a futile effort to see above the mass of people. “As far as I can tell, gallery receptions in general were an awkward time for the artist, so artists sometimes like hiding from the audience.”

“Why is that so…?”

“Well, you know…” They seemed to become quiet in their words as they peered up at Ravus before looking back away. “You never know what a crowd’s going to be like, you know? They usually come in, not wanting to really know much about the artist, so the artist probably feels like there’s no reason to be there. I can’t help but feel a little bad for artists who go through that kind of social anxiety.”

“Or that kind of anxiety as a general sense.” Ravus gave a nod of understanding. The idea of having to converse with people was something Ravus never really found pleasantries in, so he could honestly find a relation in such a sense. It was only in a rare instance that he could find a face he was willing to speak to. Even then, it was rare – just as it was now to be able to speak so calmly with this strange individual. “I hope the artist knows, however, that I enjoy their work. Attending the reception tonight is a choice that I do not regret making. Especially when in the company of such intelligent and… Calming company.”

The two’s gazes returned to face once another, a silence settling between the commander and the viewer. It wasn’t until the viewer began to chuckle, looking down as their smile began to glow bright enough to draw attention to the both of them. A laugh so full of joy that caused a smile to appear over Ravus’s face. Rare as it was, he was unable to retain his normal expression as he listened to the sound of the voice. The chaos and voices around them melting away… As if two faces together in the noise…

“High Commander Fleuret! There you are!”

A noise that Ravus did not wish to hear now. Just the mere sound of the chancellor’s voice was enough to snap him out of his attentiveness on the figure before him as the chancellor waltzed over to the two. His eyes narrowed into a scowl, an expression that did little to phase Ardyn as he moved closer to the two, more so to that smaller figure that he lingered over with a mischievous expression.

“I see you found yourself the little sheep as well. So shy and wishing to speak to you. I hope that you two were able to enjoy your pleasantries and conversation?”

“Ah! Yes! We did!” The viewer gave a small smile, looking back up at Ravus from the chancellor. “It was a great conversation.”

“Delightful. Did you manage to give him what your desired to?”

“Huh?” They paused for a moment in the words, soon gasping as they brought forth the black book that was tucked behind their back. Ravus arched an eyebrow with curiosity as they shuffled through the pages and eventually removed one of the thick white pages from it. “I, um… I came over to talk to you because I wanted to give you this. I mean… I asked Chancellor Izunia to, but he wanted me to give it to you myself.”

Ravus stared down at the sheet of paper before he carefully took it from them. Upon the sheet was a portrait, sketched out with aggressive pencil marks that shadowed the figure within it, an intensity in the line work. And yet, a gentle face upon the figure as they were portrayed viewing representations of canvases on walls… It was a portrait of himself. His eyes widened when he realized this, attention turning back to the artist before him, who merely smiled and gave a small nod as they began to step backwards.

“I, um… Hope you like it. And the rest of my work too. It was really nice being able to talk to you about it all.” They smiled and pointed towards the paper. “You should check the back as well. When you get the chance to.”

“I… I will do so. Thank you.” Ravus looked down at the sketch once again then back to the artist who gave a small wave.

“Yeah! Any time. I, um… Have to go now. Mingle with the others. Or hide away from them, that sort of thing.” A nervous chuckle escaped from the artist as they tucked their hands behind their back again. “Thank you, by the way... For talking with me. And for giving me a reason to be here.” They smiled and bowed their head before vanishing into the crowd of people.

Ravus nodded in response, looking down at the drawing in his hand before he turned the page around. The high commander allowed the corner of his lips to curl into a soft smile before he looked towards where the artist disappeared to once more. At the bottom of the paper was the signature of the artist, signed with a small note at the bottom of it along with a series of numbers jotted down nearby it. A phone number and a title...

Ravus Nox Fleuret Peace Among The Chaos

[beingmad2017-blog]

The Splendor Myth - How Do Ladies Really Feel About Their Beauty Looks?

New Post has been published on https://beingmad.org/the-splendor-myth-how-do-ladies-really-feel-about-their-looks/

The Splendor Myth - How Do Ladies Really Feel About Their Beauty Looks?

In 1991, Naomi Wolf posted The Beauty Myth detailing her information on how Girls remain oppressed at some stage in society for the gain of men.

Wolf argued that the instigation and use of the myth of Beauty would be guys’ final weapon towards Ladies and their perceived rising electricity.

Ladies keep standing blockades inside the workplace because of the political and systemic use of beauty tips to outline worth. Although men define the ideology of beauty tips , the demarcation of Splendor isn’t always defined thereby leaving ladies burdened Approximately her own feelings of self.

This allows big agencies to levy unfairly the paintings that Ladies do increase their sales whilst enriching each girl expenditure and manageability. This has in flip decreased the girl’s, a powerful tool for manipulating.

Naomi Wolf wrote this e-book in 1991 following each the first and second wave of feminists. Are we embarking upon the 3rd wave of feminism? Many skeptics of feminism report that the formerly overwhelming injustice in the direction of Ladies and their cries that created and sustained Girls’ Rights moves have now been diluted to an insignificant whimper. Is there any fact to this announcement?

I need to apply this newsletter to study what if any modifications have passed off for the reason that 1991 and how Ladies’ lives may also or may not have changed.

Ladies have continually been important to the place of job even if no longer respected for his or her contribution. Latent history informs us that due to the first Global War (WW1) in 1914 -18, Women have been essential to transport out of the home in which they labored to meet the employment gap due to guys being at Warfare. Whilst the Warfare ended, Women did now not clearly want to surrender this degree of economic independence and go back to the house. Go-referencing ancient information, the fight for Women’s Rights started out plenty earlier, therefore, Women were already privy to the injustices toward them thereby informing of the reluctance to ‘go back to the house.’ In 1848, 68 Girls and 32 guys mentioned grievances closer to Women such as Girls having the right to vote and signed a Declaration of Sentiments in New york. It becomes in 1872 that noticed the countrywide motion begin inside the United kingdom in the shape of the national Society for Women’s Suffrage and later the extra influential national Union of Women’s Suffrage Societies. Without this Move-referencing, one could be forgiven for mistaking that up till WW1 in 1914, Ladies were not knowledgeable About their unjust remedy toward them.

With the understanding that Women did certainly realize that they have been being treated unfairly and that they surely felt robust sufficient to do so in distinct forms showed both tenacity and strength; phrases that were not used to explain Women in any respect. since 1991, what has changed to reinforce Ladies’ Rights to being more same to men?

no longer plenty for my part from the point of view of access-degree pinnacle careers for Girls Despite the fact that consistent with the latest studies achieved by means of Astbury Marsden, they found that this year has visible and growth of 100% of Girls in management positions. This equates to 12% ordinary from 6% overall remaining 12 months. We should be thankful! What About the substantial pay gaps between males and females for equal jobs? Nicely, according to Dr. Carla Harris from the place of work Gender Equality Organization (WGEA), the distance is widening, presently for each dollar a person makes, his girl counterpart earns 82 cents. I doubt very a lot that you’ll find a great distinction in the United kingdom. In reality, upon studies, Girls earned 15% less than men. Is this gap made worse in terrible financial instances?

So now not plenty has modified in terms of appreciate for women and the contribution they make in society and for society. not plenty in phrases of ways ladies are considered, ordinarily negatively and for sexual pleasures. But what’s extra startling (possibly an over-exaggeration) is that Even though there have constantly been Women ‘night-employees’ (prostitutes), Women seem like accomplishing their personal War towards themselves. Permit me placed this into attitude Approximately this inner War occurring with Ladies. However the ‘glamour’ wished for night employees to draw for work, Girls at the moment are the use of this equal idea for approval from men and within the meantime waging an unsubstantiated Battle on their . not that those Ladies did not care for their Looks previously, as their grooming ritual is natural in attracting a mate. But, due to the beauty tips Fantasy, the herbal birthing system of grooming for a mate has turn out to be blurred, complicated and instills a lack of confidence in a woman. The precocious instigation of the Splendor Fantasy undertaken by way of guys but calculatingly now not truly described (Naomi Wolf) has left Women attempting to achieve not simply the indescribable but the impossible as beauty tips is left open for interpretation by using the beholder (men).

What has been the result?

financial contributions to beauty tips , eating regimen and surgery have all seen a surge in willing captors, all looking for this Splendor Fantasy and all instead pretty despondent after they recognize that the goalposts maintain moving. cosmetic corporations enjoy ascribing what their contemporary product is and how splendidly effective a few factor is, now contained in their product. I mean, who in the world Surely heard of Pentapeptide, let alone researched what it did earlier than shopping for the product?

companies along with the ones inside the beauty tips industry depend on the bad of Girls to direct their products to. Ladies in go back respond in an impassioned clutch for the ‘miracle’ product so as to stave off or at least sluggish down the getting older system. Girls are made to Sense that they no longer visually please and in step with Wolf, companies can take steps in doing away with the female from her function within the place of job in favor of a more youthful version. Remember Miriam O’Reilly triumphing her declare in opposition to the BBC for what she alleges being disregarded on ageism and victimization grounds? A 2d price victory because she did now not win on the grounds of sexism. What this tells me is what Wolf already diagnosed in her book, that it’s miles very tough for a girl to claim towards intercourse discrimination as the law absolutely helps what it calls a BFOQ (bone side occupational qualification- United states of America) or the UK’s version of GOQ (authentic occupational qualification- Wolf). What this indicates is that an organization may additionally dismiss a lady in the event that they Sense that she does now not degree up to their ideology of Beauty. Now Bear in mind, this degree of Splendor isn’t always described and what could this Really say? As Beauty is in the attention of the beholder (self) is it not?

The tribunal for Miriam O’Reilly become hung on the four-nineteenth November 2010, 19 years after Wolf’s e-book consequently Women are nonetheless demonstrably being centered and dealt with in step with how they look and not what capabilities they’ll have inside the place of business. So no actual development here then!

Subsequent time you buy groceries, look out for the number of various beauty tips  products. Be privy to the amount of time and energy that commercials use to promote you their copious quantities of merchandise and the photographs they use. The usage of anti-wrinkle lotions on models probably now not even yet two decades vintage but. Why in the world they want anti-wrinkle cream is past me. Next, those types of advertisements might be proven using a thirteen yr old!

Now have a look at grounded merchandise which includes lipsticks. Now you could get ones that remaining all day. In truth, you need any other product to get the lipstick off because ordinary cleanser and water does no longer usually paintings. companies must hold re-inventing the wheel to preserve their income up so their imagination runs rebellion and comes up with all types of products all doing the equal factor however in another way. Women fall for this; simply test her makeup bag, products of the same but exceptional component, infrequently used because of the copious amounts.

What About merchandise containing a sure element as a way to ‘gain’ perceived ‘luggage’ under the eyes. Do you Definitely assume that with the aid of shopping for this product will alleviate ‘baggy eyes��? Why need to it, because if it did then you definitely could stop shopping for the product once you’ve got been cured? So agencies use most effective sufficient to make a moderate distinction and you need to maintain re-buying to secure better consequences. I imagine agencies laughing at Ladies as they stand far at the side of the room throwing in the magic ingredient (that is to say how offensively low the element is in terms of weight and productivity). Now, I am no longer announcing that a selected factor does now not paintings, as an example caffeine. But, following your adorable cup of tea, you can quite without difficulty reconstitute the tea bag and put this on your eyes. probably has greater caffeine in the teabag than inside the luxurious product you purchase.

Allow us to have a look at how other corporations have cashed in on the creation of bad in Ladies. An ostentatious amount of cash is spent by using ladies on weight-reduction plan products within the hope that the ‘greater’ pounds they suppose they’re carrying will disappear leaving the girl with a feel of acceptance and perceived Splendor. The sugars used in lots of ingredients are changed with an alternative this is much less calorific. To me, this is just lots of vain chemical substances being pumped into the body and for no real gain. Processed sugars are not exact for all people in huge quantities and a wide issue for fitness functions would be to reduce your intake not replacement this with something that requires the body to paintings tougher to interrupt it down if it could use in any respect.

For studies purposes, I typed in ‘what impact does synthetic sugars have at the body?’ and I did no longer must appearance some distance to in reality see the risks of synthetic sweeteners. consistent with author Marcelle Pick, (Obstetrician and Gynecologist) she speaks overtly About being nicely informed of viable aspect outcomes of sweeteners. I can not point out the enterprise as I do not wish to offer them any form of publicity however you could do your personal studies. This particular call emblem is the change call for Sucralose; a synthetic compound stumbled upon in 1976 by means of scientists in Britain in search of a new pesticide formation. (Marcelle Choose) What this company did turn into twist the sugar thing of their product through mentioning the ‘natural sugar’ thing. but extra importantly, did you trap the word ‘pesticide?’

Now we pass onto beauty surgical treatment. This phenomenon has expanded tenfold because of the 1970’s. Now you could ebook and of botox on your lunch hour and be returned to work. The lackadaisical procedure needs to be seen as worrying and no longer that organizations are seeking to make existence less complicated for Ladies to gain this face stiffening manner. Recall the terrible actress infamously recognized for her ‘trout pout?’ I’m able to leave this right here to shop her blushes! The factor I’m making is a number of those processes are downright risky but Ladies are nevertheless clambering to chance existence or limb.

We must no longer search our brains too difficult to consider a few another poor soul who underwent breast surgery to expand her already natural property and perceptually ended up searching misplaced. The woman frame is best because it stands and even as some females may go through a surgery on clinical grounds, this must no longer be harassed with the female frame, being nature at its greatest.

Women are the present process all varieties of techniques in an try and advantage the not possible body. Bum improvements, face lifts, eye lifts, neck lifts (whatever that is deemed elevate-up-in a position), nose adjustments, liposuction on any a part of the body and do no longer get me commenced with lace fronted weaves or extensions. The woman spends an excellent deal of time and money on services and products to gain the ideology of Beauty and Bear in mind this perceived Beauty is undefined. So what this means, is that they come to be chasing a mirage that disintegrates the instant they think that they may be now desirable. This results in a cyclical pattern in Girls dabbling in metamorphosis, re-inventing something else to feed that ever-growing pit in misplaced souls main to other behavioral and emotional difficulties.

In case you have a look at the goal of The Splendor Fable, the energy is enormous and the devastation that this Fable leaves at the back of is awesome news for those instigating this concept for not anything extra than mind-manage over Ladies. This concept reminds me of the Lynch (Willie Lynch) technique; create a divide and rule mask, in this example, in Ladies.

[kittykittyanon]

WHAT!!!! WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT!!! OMIGOSSSHHHHHHHH!!!! Σ(°ロ°) Σ(°ロ°) Σ(°ロ°)

SIX??? LIEK ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX???? OMIGOHS??!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!? GAHHHHHHHHHHHH

TOKA HAD BABIES I REPEAT

TOKA

HAD

BABIES

😭😭😭