#beautiful tragedy

[averagenighttimeenjoyer]

The Seductive Allure of Tragedy

Within the intricate tapestry of human emotions, a particularly captivating thread weaves through the realm of love, desire, and the tantalizing embrace of tragedy. In the depths of human experience, there exists a peculiar masochistic beauty that arises when two lovers find themselves entangled in a dance that mingles pleasure with pain, ecstasy with anguish. This intoxicating blend defies conventions, drawing them closer into a realm where pain and pleasure intertwine in an exquisitely tragic symphony.

Picture a passionate affair between two souls, bound not only by love but also by a desire for the intense experience that only tragedy can bring. This love story transcends the ordinary boundaries of romance, inviting them to explore the more enigmatic facets of their connection. The pain of separation, the yearning for the unattainable, and the intoxicating allure of longing become their shared indulgences, infusing their bond with a potent mix of emotions that are both deeply sensual and profoundly melancholic.

As these lovers succumb to the masochistic allure of their connection, they willingly surrender to the exquisitely twisted sensations that accompany their union. The ecstasy of their union becomes inseparable from the agony of their longing, and their union is illuminated by the shadows of their shared melancholy.

The masochistic beauty of lovers embracing tragedy underscores the depth of human experience, revealing that pain can be just as intoxicating as pleasure. These souls, drawn together by an irresistible magnetism of agony and yearning, embark on a journey of self-discovery that leads them to the very edges of their emotional limits.

In the intimate dance of pain and pleasure, these lovers find a unique kind of ecstasy—one that is intricately woven into the fabric of their masochistic bond. As they navigate the uncharted waters of their shared desires and self-imposed anguish, they redefine the boundaries of love and experience the heightened intensity of emotions that only tragedy's touch can provide. Through their captivating masochistic embrace, they beckon us to explore the depths of human passion and the enigmatic allure of pleasure entwined with pain.

[legion--23]

My

IN THIS MOMENT BEAUTIFUL TRAGEDY

Rare picture vinyl

[willmarstudios]

Bookworm Will Review 2024 ( #14 )

Title: 'The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo'

Author: Taylor Jenkins Reid

Rating: 4.75 / 5

Review: (MILD SPOILERS)

YES I KNOW IM LATE TO THE BANDWAGON!

I'm already upset at myself because holy crap this was incredible! Evelyn's story and journey was a beautifully tragic story of multiple forms of love, redemption, and growth all within an addictive timeline. I'm not trying to romanticize what she went through, especially for the time periods, but I can't ignore the raw emotionally charged character moments between every single character. In some ways it even felt daring and quite unexpected.

The lengths Evelyn will go to survive and prove that the world, even nowadays is so morally gray, not to pettily justify her actions, but to help those around her. The impact is quite heavy the further you continue to read. From start to finish I was invested in how she saw the world despite being a rather biased narrator. You really couldn't help but root for her as she grew wiser and kept on moving forward from husband to husband.

The relationship dynamics were almost completely different, except for a universal theme of possession, which gets mentioned early on. It all clicked.

While Evelyn was the star, Harry took my heart a million times over. That friendship was beyond beautiful and while one can argue a bit 'too perfect' or 'convenient for the plot', I LIVED for it. That was more emotional for me to read that the Celia plotline because as everything begins to wind down.... boom.

It all comes crashing down.

However, its not just that.

THE PLOT TWIST.

I was gasping for air. It ALL came together in such a telenovela style that I ate it up SO fast.

I can't recommended this book enough. It was an absolute beautiful tragedy!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The Dungeon Meshi crew 'leap' into action!

[mydairpercabeth]

Thinking about how Hermes intentionally wasted Percy and Annabeths time in the casino hoping to change Lukes’ fate. And how everything Hermes has done since finding out about Lukes future will be in service of delaying/changing his fate. He said Poseidon warned him that no matter how much he tried to help, he would just make things worse. Yet he is still trying to help Luke. Still trying to make things right. But Luke has already chosen his path. Pure Greek tragedy

[sehaniine]

the queen of hearts, fated with the burden of carrying the pain inflicted by the goddess

find the totk link card here!

[angst--unhinged]

The Final Show

Perhaps you did it for the thrill

My voice came out in a shrill

I watched as you took the pill

Drained out of your last will.

Looking lost and standing still

Those were your daily drill

Smiling from your window sill

Your hands went in for a kill.

The heart that I tried to fill

Now bleeding red in crimson spill

Followed by a deadly chill

As things went quite downhill.

[amontageofloveandromanticpoetry]

몽생미셸 해변의 남자 PART 6 끝 | Man on the shores of Mont Saint Michel PART 6 END

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

And with news as fast as the wind can carry around the island, I am of child.

But it is only I who holds the truth.

This child I carry is not of mortal love, but a love divine.

My heart has long been crushed to dust, and dust cannot be pieced back, for the wind has blown it away; lest someone collects the scattered dust and regain a way to make me love again.

Love is foreign and odd. I once tasted its ambrosia, and never again after staining it with my filth.

I have cried for my loss, and when I have run out of tears, I opted to bleed.

I have made myself believe and to always will; pray that I will never see my beautiful lover ever again. The disgust in his eyes is the last thing I will ever want to see in my remaining time.

He has punished me. Leaving me with only memories, and memories are the worst torture of them all.

My heart aches when my eyes drift to the sea.

I can only bring myself to admire and whisper to the ripples, comforting them as I lay by the shoreline as they as they cry in pain when their bodies crash against the sand.

And they comfort me too.

Now with child, I am in turmoil. Terrible turmoil.

No child deserves to live a life where their mother is incapable of love.

No child deserves to have a husk for a mother.

This baby of mine, they will be beautiful. Formed from divine and impossibilities.

How I wished my child's father would look at the blubbering little joy with glee.

The child shall live, I have come to the decision.

And what of me? Dieu knows.

Odes of seasons pass, and the most beautiful creature cries in my face.

Iridescent scales glimmer in his skin when light kisses him. His hair as translucent as the finest sheen, white fabric; as pale as a spirit, and as fine as clouds in a midday.

Husband I've married is tied down and speechless at the sight of my beautiful, wonderful, and lovely baby.

I need not any of his words, for he can silently answer himself that the offspring in my arms is no child of his.

"Will you watch him with no resentment?" I tell him one night.

"I can never resent a child, for he holds no sins." The man I married weeps in despair. "The mother of the child; the tree that bore the fruit however," And he looked at me in misery, "More than anything, I want to hate you, but how can I? When this sin has happened before you were mine."

Whatever rubble was left of what I am has crumbled into his feet.

"I have not been the wife Dieu would ever wish for a man like you to have." I cry. "I, unfairest of all wives. Fit for the Abbey to stone to death."

"Of who's child is it that you bore?"

I confess, "He is of the Ocean's." My hands clench his tired hands in desperation. "Morrow come, word will spread of my son that he is of the Devil's and the Abbey will be at our home's door."

"Then we leave the island tonight." My husband suggests in alarm. "No harm must come to the child, he is innocent."

"And I will see to it you and he are safe." I promised, and this time, I will even end my own life to see it come true.

"And what of you?" He holds me.

And with a smile I've never smiled was all he received he shook his head and held me tight. "No, I forbid you."

"I am only paying for my sins. You and the boy, however, have done nothing evil, yet I have." His tears, I collect with my fingers. "Take the boy and hide in the mainland. Live in merriment, and mould him into a good man."

Tears and money spilled the floor as I hastily packed everything my husband and son needed for their journey. I've seen to it they will live in comfortable bliss in the mainland, far away from me and my sins. Not one coin in the house was left, all kept safe in the winesack.

The boat floats, awaiting for them at the bay. My precious baby wrapped in warm sheets, I press a loving kiss to his head. Sorrow embraces my form as I have come to the realisation I will never be there for when he first opens his eyes.

Will he have his father's?

Or will he have mine?

This baby I hold, this precious blessing, he will live in the happiness I could not have. He will continue the life I had lost.

And when morrow comes, he will live.

And I will not.

My dear husband I have mistreated with no love looks at me with woe present in his eyes.

"I bless you, Bastien." I tell him in peace, "You will love again, and this time, you will know true happiness in this new life."

"I can forgive you, come with us and live." He begs me, and I refused.

"I am not deserving of forgiveness. Not when I can break something so beautiful again." I narrate in grief. "Live." And they were gone.

Morrow rises in the East, and as the cock crows as early. My eyes tread upon the waters I have loved...

Overlooking the beauty I have destroyed.

The Abbey will not find me.

They will not lay their hands upon my son, they will not lay their hands on my husband.

And they will never lay a finger on me.

I will do it for them.

The skirts I wore whipped and cried in the breeze, like watercolour staining the wind.

The string of pearls in my neck, I handle with love.

Here I am, with everything that I have left, will be then just a memory.

And I think back for one last time, everything I have cherished. Where I can only lie to myself in the form of a wish; that I was a cherished memory to him too.

And the wind blows against my hair as it cradles me. Whistling in my ears. My body loved.

And as I lay cold and motionless in the jagged rocks, the waves cried and drank my blood.

"Oh! mother, Oh! mother, Oh! mother. You have loved us so, do not go." The water cries in my ears.

The water holds me in its arms and I wished it was his instead.

"Your groom, what of him? He will be creature of the depths, bound to be a creature of woebegone." The salt persuades me.

"My groom..." I sigh in a dream, "What a wonderful thing he would be to me."

And as I closed my eyes, my life slips past the skirts I wore.

My soul dancing in the sea's memories and mine's.

I was a swan, and now I am swimming in the Mont Saint Michel bay.

What I had with the Translucent Wonder was a love dream.

A beautiful thing, a painting.

Something so lovely should never be kept a secret.

It should be known, it should be told.

Our love may have drowned in the bay and embedded in its sand, but with people who have come to know our story, our love will live on.

Our love is art.

By: Kang Jae-Ho

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

[lotus-pear]

whatever happens, please don’t break

[dapper-lil-arts]

Best redeemed Unicorn poll... the Sequel

[merricatty]

This is just...really fuckin' beautiful.

Just to be clear: this post is entirely platonic. It’s about finding understanding through shared feelings of loss and guilt and the depth of platonic connections, so please don’t reblog with any romantic tags.

‘Eddie, what’s this?’ Nancy asked when she walked into the hospital room to find Eddie upright in his bed, with a pile of paper on his nightstand and surrounded by origami boats.

'Hi, Wheeler,’ he said with a smile that wasn’t quite as broad as the one he would regularly flash at her in the school hallways before their Week From Hell.

He looked better than the last time she’d visited, though: he had more color on his cheeks and his hair had clearly been washed and brushed. Apart from the scratches on his arms and the stitches in his cheek, he almost looked normal.

'You ever heard of ghost ships?’ he asked Nancy as she went to sit down in the plastic chair at his bedside.

'Ghost ships?’ she repeated. She tried to remember a term like that from Mike’s D&D games, but came up empty.

'They’re like, versions of yourself that you’ll never get to be,’ Eddie explained, picking up one of the paper boats around him and holding it loosely in his hands. 'Like the version of me who’d graduate high school.’ He picked up another of his creations. 'Or the version of me who could walk without a cane.’

'You might,’ Nancy reminded him.

Keep reading

[stardustedknuckles]

Listening to the Matron talk about the previous god of death cements for me the idea that Vax was always meant to have more time before she made good on their deal. She didn't mean for him to know the same eternal separation and grief she had taken upon herself - that she had chosen with eyes wide open. He was supposed to have time and happiness with Keyleth. Maybe even time beyond a natural lifespan, though that's probably pushing it a little. To the max of said lifespan at the very least. She didn't want for him - or for keyleth - what she had been through, but her hand was forced, and the only way to give him back in any capacity was to take away what should have been. His fate was to become her champion, yes, but there was time to live first. That fate was changed as a gift. It was all she could allow as the keeper of her domain and arguably, her mortality is what led her to give it at all.

Yes. She hears the sounds of grief and loss unending, unceasing. Death is less than nothing to her and the sum of who she is. She is synonymous to death in many ways, though she refers to herself as its steward and rightfully so.

But I think what sets her apart is that she never grows numb to it. That mask is to hide the fact that all of it still affects her. It's to hide all of it - her loneliness, yes, but also that she feels every death. She hears every cry, every curse, every regret. She stands before every soul individually and does what she must, and she wears the mask so that she can do so without giving anything of her mortal feelings away. The dead do not need to know that she cares, that she understands. Death is not about her. It is about who is standing in front of her waiting to be ushered into the beyond. She is the great reuniter, forever separated from the one she loves.

So yes. I believe that Vax was always meant to have more time, right up until time was the only thing left to barter. His fate was to die after a long and happy life, to go peacefully and take up the mantle at her side when he was done on Exandria.

But that had to change to save the fate of the world, and nobody in this realm or any other knows better the loss and the grief that came about from cutting that time short. Vax wasn't meant to understand it either. She wanted better for him and, by extension, keyleth.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Bonus 8: How met your mother (CSSR design by @qourmet!)

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[formulanni]

Charles Leclerc as The Magician (redraw):

The Magician is interpreted with energy, potential, and the manifestation of one’s desires; the card symbolizes the meetings of the physical and spiritual worlds (“as above, so below”) and the conduit converting spiritual energy into real-world action.

(When the Magician appears in a spread, it points to the talents, capabilities and resources at the querent’s disposal to succeed. The message is to tap into one’s full potential rather than holding back, especially when there is a need to transform something.)

Tag list: @st-leclerc @rubywingsracing @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time @the-wall-is-my-goal @albonoooo @ch3rubd0lls

[fistfuloflightning]

and rain will make the flowers grow