#but that’s glimpses of brilliance here man!

[whitehartlane]

such a terrific buildup. every player gets a touch on the ball except vicario and commits to the press. push and run football, the same attacking philosophy arthur rowe, one of our own, coined and gave the world is now back at the core of this tottenham team. that’s simply evident in the way maddison (twice!) and udogie pass the ball and immediately go forward to attack the free space off the ball, opening up attacking channels splendidly. how’s that for total football!

[katerinaaqu]

Odysseus and Polyphemus: The Brilliance of Homeric writing (an analysis based on rhapsody/book 6 of Odyssey)

This is why I think no adaptation ever managed to take a glimpse of the brilliancy of Homer's writing

In Homer's Odyssey few moments are said to be as famous and as infamous as the story of Odysseus and Polyphemus; the part where Odysseus shows both his cunning and cleverness as well as his infamous temper and partially his arrogance; the moment meant for the audience to learn humility and show them how hubris leads to nemesis with terrible consequences. And yet Homer made it very clear Odysseus was the hero and Polyphemus was the monster; the one who not only represents the barbaric people Greeks faced in their trips who do not understand the customs of Xenia or the validity of agriculture but also people who lack real companionship and emotional connections just like the ruthless nature the one that humans need to face.

However this analysis is not for that which we spoke about millions of times before. It is about that one moment in which the roles nearly reversed; the moment where Polyphemus suddenly became sympathetic and emotional and Odysseus became ruthless and vindictive.

In the 6th rhapsody of Odyssey we see how Odysseus tricked the Cyclops with his "outis" (nobody) trick, he got him drunk and blinded him. By doing so he made sure Polyphemus was alive and not crippled so he could open the heavy stone entrance of his cave plus making sure he and his men would be a bit safer from him if he couldn't see them. However as Polyphemus was standing by the entrance feeling his way there it was almost impossible to run past him. So Odysseus had the cunning idea to bind themselves to the bellies of his sheep so when Polyphemus was feeling them coming out he would feel the sheep and not them.

Odysseus himself tied himself under a large ram. That ram Odysseus thoroughly describes to the Pheakes being the favorite ram of Polyphemus.

The escape scene though is the moment where Polyphemus even if still clearly the villain is being shown emotional and full of pain and Odysseus even if clearly the hero he is cunning and vindictive.

Polyphemus being emotional

The moment in the Odyssey is actually very tender since we see Polyphemus talk to his favorite ram as if he talks to a person:

"Oh, ripe ram, why are you coming last, out of the cave, after the rest of my sheep? Has your strength left you, you who used to run first to graze soft blossoms and grass. You who strided far and reached first the streams of rivers, you who longed first to come back during the evening, now you come for last. Or do you see your master's eye, for a bad man has blinded him with his sad/mournful companions after he clouded his mind with wine, Nobody, who cannot escape doom. For if you agree that if you had voice you would tell me by which mean he is escaping my fury"

(Translation by me)

Polyphemus seems to have neighbors, the rest of the Cyclops who apparently show little to no compassion. They become alarmed by his cries of pain but when they hear that "nobody hurt him" they immediately tell him to shut up and take it, basically their "interest" is purely the neighbor kind. They seem void of emotions and yet here we see Polyphemus pouring out his soul in his favorite ram. He talks to it tenderly showing how secretly he needs some emotional connection. In a way he knows he and his neighbors are isolated from each other and he substitutes that with one of his animals. What is more he knew which was his favorite ram even if he came last and even if Polyphemus couldn't see. Showing the deep bond with the animal.

Polyphemus is in pain

Odysseus despite the fact he is running for his life he knows exactly how much pain Polyphemus is in:

"And the Cyclops with sighs and moans of anguish/pain he was feeling with his hands, from the stone he lifted off the entrance"

(Translation by me)

Odysseus knows very well Polyphemus is wounded and he knows very well that the sighs and moans Polyphemus makes are of the incredible pain he is in and yet he shows zero compassion. If anything he is feeling triumph that Polyphemus is getting what he deserved after the terrible things he put him and his men through (the constant fear and anxiety) and his men that were brutally eaten (smashed on the ground then their limbs rooted out etc) which is still understandable given what Odysseus was and still is going through but it implies almost zero compassion on his part. In a way he matches Polyphemus energy who also shows zero compassion to him and his men. Plus despite the fact that Polyphemus is clearly in pain Odysseus still mocks him for acting like a fool thinking that guarding the entrance will help him catch them. He is being vindictive. His anger is of course justified given what he had been through but it is also interesting how unsanitized he is. He shows zero compassion and he is not ashamed of it given what Polyphemus did and he is not afraid to say that he felt so while telling his story to the Phaeakes.

Odysseus always describes Polyphemus as "monster" and "cyclops" instead of calling him by name (minus one exception)

Consequently in this scene not only Odysseus does refer to Polyphemus that he is a fool to think he can catch him despite the fact that he is in pain, Odysseus refers to Polyphemus as "monster" or "cyclops" instead of calling him by name. Even when Polyphemus is groaning and moaning in pain he is at Odysseus constantly calls him monster (πέλωρ) plus "godless monster" or "cyclops". The only moment where Polyphemus is mentioned by name (Κρατερός Πολύφημος= Powerful Polyphemus) is before the tender dialog with the ram. In a way he is referred to as a satient being only when he is about to show emotion.

Odysseus takes his favorite ram

As I mentioned to another humorous and a bit more light-spirited post of mine, Odysseus picks up the biggest ram but also Polyphemus's favorite. From the description we know that Odysseus knows this was his favorite. He isn't just taking a ram out of symbolism (in the Iliad Odysseus is described looking like a thick-haired ram) but he seems to make a conscious choice picking the one that was Polyphemus's favorite. Taking his sight doesn't seem enough punishment in Odysseus's mind. He wants to hurt Polyphemus even more for all he did to his men. He makes a deliberate choice to take the one he has observed over the days he spent locked up in the cave as his favorite. And we also see how important that ram is to Polyphemus. Odysseus takes it from him the same way Polyphemus took his beloved comrades so violently away from him.

Conclusions:

I believe that no one ever managed to transfer this Brilliance of writing in adaptations. Homer managed to still let us know who the hero and who the villain is (Polyphemus acts as if he did nothing wrong and is Odysseus the one who is "evil" who blinded him because he is an evil devious man) however the villain without aiming to be someone you root for or someone that was "misunderstood" we still see some emotion out of and we can feel some compassion for his situation. What is more Polyphemus clearly had a bond with his favorite ram given not only the tenderness with which he talks to it but also the fact that he knew which his favorite ram was even if he was blind.

Odysseus is still clearly the hero; the one who struggles to survive and save his comrades by a man-eating monster and yet the audience might as well feel a bit repelled by his grudge holding scene in which despite the fact he is running for his life he is still trying to hurt his opponent in a way preparing the audience emotionally for the main lesson we learn in the Odyssey; not to be arrogant and stay humble.

Odysseus is rightfully furious. No matter what someone says he had every right to get angry. He was emotionally and mentally exhausted from a week of being locked up and helpless watching his men die so brutally and yet he let his anger speak making him vindictive and arrogant; wishing his opponent to hurt as much as possible for what he did to him and his men and slowly succumbing to that anger enough to reveal his name proudly.

It wasn't him mentioning who he was that was his doom. It was the WAY he revealed it; anger and pride were his downfall. Not him speaking on who he was. It was his impulse to elevate himself to the same or higher level than a son of a God and consequently to God's level. Poseidon would know who it was whether he said so or not. It was THIS vindictive nature and the nature of him desiring to hurt and humiliate his opponent and his impulsive anger that doomed him and I think Homer showed that with just a few lyrics before the critical moment.

This is why for me Homer's talent is unparalleled.

[meandhisjohn]

We meet the doctors for the first time.

And Dr. Holmes certainly made an entrance.

Not that kind of " wow what a guy " kind of entrance but more the " what the f..." kind of entrance.

But we first meet John, a thing I love and prefer in stories because he is always the best entry into a new story.

Like a really good supporting act on a festival right before the more interesting but arrogant superstar arrives.

John is a warm up who makes you feel cosy and secure and together you wait for the storm.

And the storm arrives indeed.

Dr. Sherlock Holmes new medical superstar a patent already made and sold, is he the new neurosurgeon and within weeks he has a reputation for being rude, difficult and brilliant.

The brilliance is as obvious as the arrogance and John is equally surprised and annoyed.

But he is also a tiny little bit fascinated and is not quite sure why...

They work and clash in the OR one day and while others are intimidated by Sherlock’s behaviour is John simply annoyed and says so.

In a contest of getting the upper hand John is our winner.

We getting glimpses of the real Sherlock a bit later when he proceeds towards John again and ask for help.

Here we see a shy and insecure man who is obviously wrestling with a truth he keeps very well hidden, and we see the huge amount of trust in John approaching him in that matter.

A very moving part and what I call 

a man child moment.

Because Sherlock is a very sensitive person and John is obviously the only one he can go to which makes the moment precious and yet sad.

Sherlock’s confession being on the spectrum is groundbreaking.

For Sherlock, John and the story.

Sherlock is clearly ashamed and telling John this because he needs his help to make a medical failure accusation going away is a huge deal for a man who likes to be seen cold, talented and untouchable.

I love that all the thoughts we readers might have are in John's head too.

John is our conscience, our bond to Sherlock early knotted but unbreakable already.

Together they go and investigate a little to help Sherlock’s case, a case I won't go into detail because if you haven't read the story yet I'm not going to spoil the fun for you.

But the help John offers comes with a payback.

That's at least what Sherlock thinks and acts accordingly and much to John's surprise I might add and to mine:) 

Here we see a first behaviour of Sherlock that seems unusual and inappropriate but it also seems he simply doesn't know better and he doesn't have these natural social skills that forbid us to act in such a direct manner.

No right or wrong or any judgment coming from my side.

This is just what I observed.

And so did John luckily and doesn't give up on Sherlock, although after certain events Sherlock is back at his usual cold self with a brick wall around his emotions.

But good old John finds a way and he also realises that he finds himself attracted to the new neurosurgeon star.

And slowly but constantly they find a way towards each other because Sherlock opens up for the first time and John sees behind the mask of arrogance and indifference.

This first piece sets the standard and the curiosity for more.

I was lucky enough to discover the series after Jill completed it.

So I didn't have to wait lol.

Reading this first part and knowing there will be more makes you wonder what will happen and how this story will heading and you know for sure that you are in for a ride:) 

Link to the series here:

@inevitably-johnlocked @7-percent @jbaillier @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @discordantwords @lostinsherlock44 @8redskittles @axl-is-stoopid @jobooksncoffee @johnlockiseverywhere @kettykika78 @cvdiee @manyofnine @jazzthecat00 @pucketdog @deelaundry @neinknives @helloliriels @dizzyone55 @thetimemoves @bewitched-bullet

[emyn-arnens]

Beneath the Innumerable Stars

Findis & Ilmarë | G | ~900 words | AO3

Though the many towers of Ilmarin stood crowned with golden domes, catching the light of the rising sun on their facets, the Tower of Varda stood open to the sky. Always it was night in the tower, a night so deep that neither walls nor pillars nor floor could be glimpsed, and it seemed as if all the tower was the night sky, and the stars of the heavens shone upon it even at midday.

In the center of the tower stood Varda’s Mirror, a deep silver basin that gleamed faintly in the darkness. Findis stood before the basin and poured into it the water from the holy pools fed by the many waterfalls of Taniquetil that she had carried in a ewer up the long, breathless mountain path to the mansions of Manwë and Varda. The mirror showed no reflection of Findis’ face as she stood before it and waited for the water to still.

When it had, all the stars of the heavens glinted within the mirror like sunken jewels glimpsed from the surface of a fathomless sea. If Findis had dared to dip her hand into the water, she could have held all the constellations of the summer and winter skies in the palm of her hand. But to do such a thing would be unholy in this hallowed place.

She knelt before the basin and began to whisper her prayers, just as she had done every day since the Valar had declared the assembling of the Host, and Arafinwë had agreed to lead the Noldor to war. As she did so, she felt rather than heard a stirring in the room, and she looked up to see the shadows ripple, as if the veil of night that cloaked the tower had been stirred by a sudden wind, though no wind brushed her skin. The stars shivered in the sky above and in the mirror in front of her.

Awareness danced along Findis’ skin, and she knew at once that she was in the presence of one of the Maiar. She remained kneeling before the mirror, waiting, her heart hammering in her breast.

Gradually, the shadows shifted and drew back, and a woman became faintly visible, scarcely discernible from the shadows, except that she burned with a radiance wholly distinct from the shadows. She was taller than any woman or man of the Vanyar and taller than any of the Maiar that Findis had yet seen. Her skin was the color of midnight, and her hair drifted about her shoulders in a cloud of deepest night. In her eyes shone the light of a thousand stars, and living stars burned upon her brow. Findis could scarcely look upon her for the brilliance of their light. 

She was Ilmarë, the handmaiden of Varda and chief among the Maiar.

Findis lowered her gaze in deference and wanted for the Maia to speak.

“Thou art faithful, daughter of Indis,” Ilmarë said. Though her voice was soft, merely a whisper in the silent room, it rang with power. “For many turns of the sun, thou hast come here, bearing offerings. Thy faithfulness ought to be rewarded. What wouldst thou have?”

“I come on behalf of one whom I love,” Findis said, her gaze still cast downward.

“Thou speakest of Arafinwë, thy brother. I have heard thy prayers.”

“Two of my brothers have died in the Hither Lands, and my sister is lost to me. I know not whether she lives or has met her end. I would not lose another beloved sibling to the wrath of those lands, if it were in my power to safeguard his passage.” Though her voice trembled, Findis held herself straight and still.

“Thy brothers and sister left against the will of the Valar,” Ilmarë said in soft rebuke. “Arafinwë does not, for he goes with the blessing of the Valar. And he has further the aid of Eönwë, who will lead the host, and many of thy mother’s kin who will follow. What more wouldst thou ask of the Valar?”

“I would ask that he be clad in armor that will turn away any weapon held against him,” Findis murmured, her heart in her throat, “if the Valar would grant such a gift.”

Silence rang. 

Then Ilmarë spoke: “Rise, daughter of Indis.”

Findis obeyed.

Ilmarë stepped closer. The night shifted around her. She looked long into Findis’ eyes, and Findis saw nothing but the light of her eyes, blazing like silver fire. 

Ilmarë stepped back and released Findis from her gaze, satisfied. “For thy faithfulness and for Arafinwë’s, I will do what I may and will clad him even as I am clad, with stars upon his brow, brighter than the rising sun. All who look upon him will be blinded and dismayed, for he will seem as one of the Maiar, wreathed in blinding power, and they will flee from the terror of his face.”

“I thank you,” Findis said, bowing deeply. When she rose, llmarë was gone.

———

When it came time for the Host of the Valar to depart, Findis stood beside her mother and watched as Arafinwë, resplendent in golden armor and crowned with stars brighter than the rising sun, terrible in their brilliance, captained the armies of the Noldor. When he bid his mother and sister farewell, his face blazed with starlight, and Findis could scarcely look upon him.

And when at last the Host disappeared in a roar of crying trumpets and ringing steel, Findis turned and set foot upon the path to the mansions of Manwë and Varda to keep vigil for all the long days until the Host’s return.

Divider by @/cafekitsune.

[sashi-ya]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫. [chapter 3] 𝚔𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚔𝚒 𝚋𝚢𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚢𝚊 𝚡 𝚏! 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛[+18]

✦ adapted to x! reader from my original oc story. ✦ tw: this time a little bit more romantic, had to add their sweet beginnings so that's why is a little more longer (separated it in two parts). dom byakun. spanking. public sex. anal. oral. can be read on its own, no need to read the previous chaps, tho I recommend to do so. ✦ chapter 1 / chapter 2/ chapter 4

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑: 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐢 [𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝟏]

“(Name), (Name). Wake up” a  whispery sweet voice calls you, that this time sounds absolutely annoying to your ears.

“Nghhhh… again?” you protest, turning around and reaching for one of his long black locks of hair in between your fingers.

Byakuya’s eyes soften. His delicate hand caresses your head and pulls you towards himself. “No… but the Sun is about to rise. I had an idea so that we can be alone for the rest of the weekend” he murmurs, placing his chin on top of the crown of your head.

You moan, pleased. Alone, all weekend? No work? Yes please. Opening your eyes, you take a glimpse of his beauty.  Even with tired eyes, dishevelled hair and no kenseikan Byakuya still looks like a masterpiece.

“Where are we going, Byakuya-sama?” you purr, asking him, still politely. “To the world of the living, (Name)” he murmurs, stretching his arms after to get ready for getting out of bed.

You blink; that’s interesting… you will get to wear your gigai? Oh, but honey… I’m not that sure about it.

Senkaimon opens, the white brilliance shining on your faces makes you lift your hand to cover your eyes. It is still pretty early, and the sun is barely out when you get to the Gotei 13’s facilities North Door. You wonder why you haven’t picked your gigais at squad 12. “Are we visiting Urahara-san, Taicho?” you ask, always keeping the formality to avoid any Shinigami being suspicious.

“No. We are not wearing gigais on this… mission” Byakuya says, without looking at you while you two walk inside the dimensional doors.

You turn around to look at him suspiciously, what is this man planning to do… if you aren’t visiting Karakura town, then… where?

You walk inside the Dangai with quite a fast pace. Byakuya doesn’t seem scared, but you are… a little bit. That time when you had to run away from the Kōtotsu with your best friend wasn’t any funny. Coming back from the living world, a little bit drunk, isn’t easy.

You keep looking everywhere around you as if you were looking for something in particular.

“What?” he asks, looking at you. “The… Kōtotsu” you murmur. You are ashamed; such a strong Shinigami being scared of it. “I wish it could have stayed dead… the only good thing Aizen did in his life was killing that thing” “You want me to replace bad memories with good ones from inside the dangai? because I could” Byakuya, for the very first time, jokes openly.

You stop right in your feet. He is suggesting fucking you inside the dangai? What happened to Kuchiki Byakuya?!

“You are joking. Aren’t you?” you look at him with the side of your eye. “Or you wanna give Kurosutchi Taicho a special show?” you joke back; you can play too.

“I honestly would fuck you here, yes. But now that you reminded me that Kurosutchi is looking at us through the cameras I just- preferred to be eaten by the Kōtotsu…” he murmurs back, looking with his typical sharp and hateful stare to one of the webcams that connects right to Squad’s 12 security facility.

You chuckle. Probably half Gotei 13 knows about you two, but it’s better to play it as if you were two teenagers secretly in love…

As you approach the other side of the senkaimon, your anxious questions come back. “By the way, Kuchiki Taicho…where are we going?” you ask, grazing his pinky. Truth is, that you are dying to grab his hand; but you simply can’t.

However, Byakuya is always a box full of surprises. He takes a soft look at you, and with a subtle smile offers you his hand. “You will want to grab my hand” he says.

You gasp; you might have had intercourse with him but never once walked holding hands. And when everything seemed like a romantic fairy tale, and as you get lost in his addictive dark blue look, the floor underneath your feet disappears.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” you scream, as you fall into an abyss.

“Hold on tight, (Name)” your captain grabs you from your waist, holding you closer to his body. A body with the scent of sex that still lingers on his skin from the night before.

And when you are hugging to him, it doesn’t matter if you are descending to hell; because in Kuchiki Byakuya’s embrace, there is nothing that could hurt you, there is nothing that could scare you and there is nothing that you cared about the most than to resting in his arms.

He graciously lands, with his right foot first and then his left into the sand underneath. You, who have melted into the crook of his neck slowly take a look around. “Welcome to Sunagata, Kyoto prefecture” Byakuya shows you, helping you put your feet down too.

Ahead of you, and endless all blue sea. Sands almost white, transparent waters that let the sea life to be clearly seen through it. “Byakuya… this is… stunning” you murmur, forgetting the -sama at the end. And, he is not mad… he is glad.

“Is it? Turn around” he whispers, putting his heavy, yet delicate hands on your shoulders.

You look behind you, a manor lays ahead, surrounded by greenery and a path of warm lights guiding you inside through a wooden deck. It is by far the most beautiful place you ever been in, and the most romantic gesture so far from Kuchiki Byakuya.

“That- is this like a private beach?” you ask, amazed. You wonder who’s the owner of such beautiful place. Probably a very rich lady or maybe a family of CEO’s… or… is this…

“Even if it is pretty private, we can’t stop people from visiting the beaches. They are after all, property of every human being. However, that house from there…” he points at the entrance. Over the huge doors of exquisite design and even more expensive wood, you can see an emblem you know very well… the Kuchiki clan symbol.

Your eyes widen; they are dead! How could they own something… “Byakuya is this yours?” you ask, amazed.

“Mhh, I never lied when I told you I came to the world of the living for business” he calmly tells, as if it was something normal for gods and semi gods to walk the earth and make millionaire deals like a human.

You frown, but an unconscious smirk garnishes your lips. Such a fancy lover you have, huh?

“Come on, time runs differently in the Dangai. It’s probably already the afternoon in here. Let’s go have something to eat and then come back to the beach. You need to see how sunsets look in here” he informs, grabbing you by your hand and pulling you towards him. “And believe me, I haven’t forgotten about the note… so get ready”

Your romantic moment got suddenly hit by the hard slap of lust still overflowing Byakuya’s body. And it’s ok, it makes your stomach get filled with even more butterflies, and your cheeks to become as hot as the sun itself.

“I haven’t forgotten either, Kuchiki Taicho~” you purr, playing with his fingers so softly and looking at him under your fluttery lashes.

Byakuya stops. He turns to you, frowning and narrowing his sharp eyes. He tilts his head to the side and his pale lips draw the most perverse smirk yet; “Quit looking at me like that cause I won’t be able to stop myself and I will fuck you right here”

You giggle, you are just playing… he is too, right? He wouldn’t fuck you in the open, where everyone can see you, under a scalding sun of a summer in Japan. Right?

He let’s go of your hand, and quickly takes his white haori off. It falls to the sand behind him, and as soon as you realize he has you kneeling in front of him. His soft hand caresses your head, playing with a strand of hair, curling it in between his finger.

“Such a good officer you are” he moans, taking the total dominant role while your knees still hurt from the sand carving on them.

You swallow when you notice his free hand untying his sash around his hipbones, letting it loosely enough for his hakama barely hang from them.

“You… Byakuya-sama… are we doing this in here?” you ask, amazed but still worried. What if someone sees you?

“This is not a high spiritual zone, (Name)… people can’t see Shinigami… unless you want us to wear gigai… then, I’ll be please to fuck you and show the world how good you look when I do” Byakuya scoffs, letting his hakama fall completely down, exposing his drippy hardness in front of you.

Your eyes are now even wider than before, your lips separate when you gasp. “By- Byakuya who… who are you… ngh” you wanna keep talking but your tongue is now occupied with his gland pushing inside your mouth.

You can’t help it but giggle while you gag; this is absolutely weird if not fantastic coming from him. Such adventurous situation never crossed your mind, but soon you remember how much he took in consideration your <whatever, whenever, wherever> note.

In any case, he is not bothered by your lack of oxygen, what´s more, Byakuya is enjoying your eyes becoming glossy from tears forming as he hits the back of your throat with his sex. His slender fingers tangle with your hair, using it for a tighter grip of your head to go deep into your mouth.

You gag, and sometimes even hit his lap softly. “Ngh!!” you moan, feeling the surreal breeze of the open beach.

“Mhh? What is it? Are you enjoying the beach, (Name)?” he asks, before grimacing to the way your throat spasms around his dick. Byakuya throws his head back, letting his long hair fall back and to be blown by the sea wind. His orgasmic image, bathed under golden light, makes him look like a God. A deity that is pleased to posses everything around him; the earth, the sky, the lust and love of you, his loyal servant.  

How shamelessly he enjoys the way your lips surround his sex, in an impure sexual display that no one -hopefully – is watching.

His breathing becomes hasty. His hips move on their own, enjoying the deepness of your mouth, how the tip of your tongue reaches for the base of his cock and even further, and how his cum overflows and fall through the commissure of your lips.

With a loud grunt, he pulls back. You try to breathe, getting a little of the oxygen you’ve been lacking so that your lungs could expand.

It is, for sure, something new to you, to him. He never pulled your hair to fuck your mouth, simply because he never fucked your mouth. Brutality, once again, had taken over his temperance. And, in no way he should be feeling guilty; you are pleased to be the one to give him a little more liberty.

The sound of the waves crushing on the coast replace the pants and moans now. Byakuya pulls his hair back, as it’s all over the place because of the wind -and orgasm-. Then, he extends his hand to you with a white half glove that still shines unpolluted under the summer sun, as pristine as his pale skin.

“Now, come on. I want you to eat something before I leave your legs trembling” he seriously chimes, pulling you up and into his embrace. With his thumb, he cleans your lips and then the little tears that pooled on each side of your eyes.

You open your mouth, you wanna say something but you just can’t. You smile and laugh. Never, and you are sure you are probably dreaming, have you ever seen Byakuya act this way… but, sometimes, the only thing we need is to be free for a day or two…

The house inside looks as clean as his manor in the Seireitei. It is not surprising that he has such minimalistic style, yet, you are sure every item is as expensive as your old house at the Soul Society. Not only it does look clean, but it also is. The scent of such spacious home is delicate and reminds you of the sakura fields of your land.

“Your house is beautiful” you whisper, taking a look around, amazed at every detail.

Byakuya nods at you, always so silent and with an almost invisible smirk. If you had to tell someone he has just had an orgasm, nobody would have believed you.

You follow him inside, with his haori folded in your right arm. You are fighting against the impulse of taking it to your nose and nuzzling into it; there is nothing more delicious than his body scent to you.

A huge, all white kitchen receives you two. It’s full of the most exquisite utensils, and you laugh… for what does he really need so many? Souls don’t eat unless they have lost a lot of reiatsu. And it suddenly hits you; there is, probably, another reason to be losing spiritual pressure that’s not fighting.

“Byakuya-sama, do you come here with your women?” you ask, so nonchalantly and perhaps a little bit unaware of how rude such question sounded to him.

Him, who had open the humongous doors of a platinum refrigerator turns violently to look at you. “Wha- what are you asking, (Name)?” he inquires, half surprised, half pissed off.

You take a step back. You probably went too far with such question. You look to the sides, playing anxiously with the golden tassel of his haori. “I- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to ask such a personal question” you murmur, with burning cheeks.

Byakuya sighs. He calmly closes the doors of the refrigerator and walks up to you. He grabs his captain cape from your hands and leaves it on the table next to you. Your captain takes a moment to think the right words to say, and those minutes seem eternal to you… you simply get ready to be -at least- scolded.

But, he doesn’t scold you.

“(Name)… which women are you talking about? I- you understand I haven’t touched a woman since… Hisana…” he loses the power in his voice when naming his late wife. “I never brought anyone here, not even Rukia has been to this place” he continues, passing his fingers under your chin.

You look at him, mortified. How dare you ask such stupid question? Even if it had been the case and many women passed through his hands, it wouldn’t change the fact that he is now with you, and you are nobody to claim for his exclusivity.

“Plus, I choose this place because I heard you told Rukia you wished we could repeat that time when we visited the beach” he says, looking right into your eyes.

Your lips separate. And it feels as if the time had stopped. He did this because of you…

You can’t resist it, and pounce into him. Hugging his tiny waist with so much love, holding onto his shihakusho with force. You nuzzle into his chest and mumble something similar to “I’m so sorry, Byakuya-sama” while some tears form in your eyes.

But he is not gonna let you feel sad, not now and never if he had the chance to avoid it. “It’s ok, (Name). Are you hungry? Do you want to bake something with me?”

You instantly smile… bake “something” with him means… “SEAWEED AMBASSADOR COOKIES??!” you chime, jumping so excitedly. You have fantasized with baking those cookies with him probably since you known him.

Byakuya’s eyes shine. A beautiful sparkle in his pupils and a sincere loving smile. “Yes, if you… if you want to…” he shily says, unable to understand someone could get that excited to recreate something so dear to him. None of you have mentioned the word love to the other, not yet. And even so, not even once you felt the need to ask… because when Byakuya was near, you could feel his soul hugging yours.

You sniffle and on tippy toes you try to reach for his lips. A peck Byakuya so desperately wants, and he lets you give. A peck that turns into a sweet kiss after, deepening it until you both need to stop… because if you should continue no cookies would be cooked.

Soon you are eager to start gathering for the ingredients; flour, vanilla extract, eggs, milk, butter, and of course, green, and black food colouring. Fortunately, Byakuya has all of that and even more freshly stored in his kitchen.

“You have people preparing this?” you ask, while you search for a bowl on the buffets. “I do, yes. I just have to make a quick call and they will arrange it for me” Byakuya says, grabbing you by your waist and helping you reach the top part of the cupboard.

You notice how warm his hands feel around your waist. Your ass is almost at his face level, and you can’t help but see his eyes fixed on it. He is a man that burns in desire for your body, you aren’t mad… you secretly did the same, many, many times.

“I see… are you hungry? I better hurry up” you giggle, knowing perfectly well what type of hunger he is feeling… again.

“I- not- I- well” he stutters. Probably, one of the only times when Byakuya had stuttered in his life. You notice him nervous, but you prefer to keep it to yourself.

The noble puts you down, but his hands still remain on your waist. And you don’t want him to go away from there. Never. Ever.

First, you crack the eggs and begin to whisk them. Then, the butter. Everything you do, you do it under the controlling look of your beloved captain; Wakame Taishii cookies are no joke to him. It’s a serious matter, and you should take it as such.

You notice he has stopped grabbing you by your waist, and in a quick check against the subtle reflection on the big window against the counter, you see him taking his shihakusho’s upper part. Tied around his waist, letting his abs exposed, he proceeds with caution. “Is the process of making cookies that dirty?”

“Allow me…” he says, passing one of his hands from behind to grab the wooden spoon. “Now, pour the flour little by little while I mix” he commands, speaking almost next to your ear.

A shiver runs through your spine, and your insides are again becoming fire. “Y-yes, you tell me when to stop”

He hums, and you begin doing what he told you to; little by little the white powder fills the bowl, puffing around you two like a bakers mist. When he says it’s enough you stop, and of course, you sneeze.

You clean your nose with your full of flour hands, leaving on your face white spots everywhere. And it makes Byakuya subtly giggle.

“Whaat?” you protest, unaware of your looks. “You surely like for things to get messy” he jokes, turning you around to clean your face.

You pout, innocently playing with him and when he unexpectedly loses himself in your lips -as he always do, when you two are close- you perform a “white attack” on him.

“Hahaha! Now you look like Ginrei!” you mess with him, as you have smeared flour under his nose, as if he had grown a white moustache like his grandpa.

His eye twitches, his mandible tense… “You- you just- you did not do what you just did, (Name)…”

You widen your eyes, and it is even too late for you to think about what has just happened; Byakuya has turned you around, pinned you down to the countertop and will, for the love of God, punish you. Truth is, that he only needed a slight spark to become a fire.

“No- WHAT?” you protest, thinking that he will mess with your hair… but it isn’t quite the exact place he will mess up with.

Byakuya smirks, ever so sadistically and hot as hell. He pulls your hakama down, leaving you absolutely naked <checking that you have kept your word about not using panties during the whole weekend>.

The noble uses his whole palm to caress your ass; tracing circles so delicately but so menacing at the same time. You know what’s next, the problem is when and how hard…

“You know what you did wasn’t ok, right… officer?” he utters, so sexily with a very low and raspier voice than ever.

“I- Forgive my outburst of confidence, Kuchiki Taicho” you murmur, biting your lower lip with your cheek pressed against the flour coated marble counter.

“You know what do we do in squad six when officers disobey their captain? We punish them” he says, giving you the first slap.

It makes you jolt, but you can’t move far from where you are. His strong arm keeps you pinned down. You moan, in pain and pleasure, feeling stingy waves on your glutes.

“And you know what the punish usually involves? Well… whatever the captain wants, and wherever the captain decides, and most importantly whenever the captain wants it… and you know when is that? Is now…”

You can’t help but whine loudly to his words. Even if he wasn’t doing anything to you, by the just tone of his voice your core felt as wet at the sea ahead.

“I wanna fuck you in the ass, (Name)… allow me to do so” he pleads, bending over your body.

His chest, pressed against your back, feels sweaty already. There is something making him so horny, and yet so nervous and anxious. You wonder if this is his first time, but you aren’t worried. You know Byakuya will always take care of you, before anything else.

“Do it… please, Byakuya-sama, fuck my ass” you purr, reaching for his thigh with your nails. You can barely touch him as your position isn’t the most comfortable, but it is enough to show him you are as desperate as he is.

He kisses your nape, nuzzling in it. He inhales your perfume, and then rests there for a couple of seconds. You notice he is gathering courage, and you decide to help him a little bit.

“Byakuya-sama, I’m not afraid. I trust you, just go slow, yes?” you whisper, kissing the hand that he has pressed against next to you on the counter. You can see how his knuckles and fingers ease some tension after your words and sweet gesture.

“Thank you, lov…(Name)” he utters, leaving you speechless. Did he just…

With utmost care, he kneels down. Probably, one of the few times he did. Kisses on the small of your back, behind your thighs, on your glutes. No rush, and a lot of delicacy to enjoy the taste of your flesh.

From pecks to licking, he expertly takes the time to prepare you. If this is his first time, then he must have read enough to know exactly what to do.

You let some little moans slip out of your mouth, his wet tongue feels extremely good back there. And from it, he sometimes uses his fingers back and forth dragging your arousal fluids from your labia to your rear entrance. Once he sees it’s proper, and still so slowly and carefully he uses his fingers that soon are able to move in and out with no pain.

“I know… I know it may hurt you, you can tell me when to stop. Is not about whatever here…” he murmurs, seriously… even if his voice is tinted by lust and trembles as need takes over his brain and body.

“Go ahead, Byakuya-sama; I’m all yours ~” you turn your head to the side to see right into his eyes. There isn’t anything else but trust, based on perhaps… pure love.

He sighs, not annoyed, but anxiously. Standing up, his palm grazes your back all throughout the spine until your nape. Only silk could compare to his touch, and not even so.

His hakama falls down once again, this time, he is completely naked. The window that shows the beach ahead allows sunset rays to filter and kiss with the lilac tones of the dying afternoon his pale flesh.

Touching, preparing himself for ecstasy, getting his fingers coated with his own sprouting lust, he comes closer to your body.

You feel your legs quivering; not because of fear of it hurting… but because of need, of pure sinful impurity taking over your mind, fogging your reason, succumbing to primal desires once more, once again and all because of him. For him.

He passes the tip of his sex from front to back, coating it enough with your overflowing juices. Good lubrication is needed, he read.

You feel his thighs closer to your back ones, the heat of his body mixing with yours as he slides right inside you with no rush and yet so steadily. You take him in with no pain; You feel your insides stretching to point of experiencing a soft burning sensation, yet it only makes you bite your lips in pleasure.

Byakuya, who remained silent up until now, grunts loudly and primarily as he feels the tight pressure of your walls around his shaft. “Ughhh…C- can I move?” he asks, squeezing your right hip side, almost carving his short nails on your skin.

“Please, do. Do it” you can barely pronounce, melting on the countertop, pleading for more, pleading for his thrusts.

Once again Byakuya sighs, he takes his kenseikan off -probably ripping some hairs in the process- and throwing it to the floor. He lets his hair loosely, giving you the first ram. Your belly hits the edge of the cold marble, you get even more pressed against it with the next thrusts of your lover.

He bends over. His hair tickles your shoulders, his lips reach for your ear. As he moves in and out, with closed eyes, he moans and repeats some unintelligible things that get mixed with your whines. But what you do understand are the phrases “tight, so tight” and “you, only you… it’s just you”.

 Byakuya can’t get enough of you, he definitely needs more, so much more. Thus, he passes his hand under your belly, pulling you up, and without getting out of you he walks you towards the big glass door that leads to the beach itself. Now, you can enjoy the sunset he promised… even is the least of your concerns right now.

Your captain, opens your shihakusho upper part, pressing your breasts against the cold window door. Both are aware of people running on the beach, both can see couples enjoying the last minutes of the day right on the coast… but is any of them able to see ghosts? Who knows, none of you really care about it.

And as much as you wish it would last eternally, climaxing is approaching. His fingers intertwined with yours as your palms leave the marks of sweat on the glass. Your chest and belly do the same. The foggy patches left by your mouth and his. Your drippy cunt getting the floor underneath wet, his panting getting so accelerated the minute it passes…

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum” Byakuya whispers, grunting, panting in your ear. You can feel the drops of sweat falling on your shoulders, his cheek wetting yours, his chest slippery against your back. The sound of your skins clapping on each other and the way he uses his finger to stimulate your clit as if the anal pleasure wasn’t enough to push you to climax.

“Cum… cum… ngh… it feels so good…” you whine, contorting around his impaling sex, harder every second it passes, and spasming so ready to finish as you do, too.

Byakuya grunts loudly, almost making you slap the window guiding your hands with him, biting your shoulder as tidal waves of orgasmic sensations flood his body.

You can feel the warmth inside you, he can feel how dampened his fingers have become from your orgasm. Byakuya stops pressing you against the door, letting your body fall back almost limpid. He traps you, and slowly gets out of you… even if it’s painful to disconnect your bodies.

“It was amazing…” he whispers, holding you with his hands around your waist and your nape pressed on his shoulder.

The sun finally hides behind a horizon of blue waves that reminds you of his eyes, and a starry night takes over Sunagata…

Part 4

[pers-books]

Star-studded Opening night for Wilko World Premiere at the Queen’s Theatre, Hornchurch.

A dazzling Opening Night unfolded on Saturday, marking the world premiere of Queen’s Theatre Hornchurch’s inaugural show for their spring season. Wilko is a production skilfully written by renowned journalist and TV broadcaster Jonathan Maitland, playing until 24 February.

The star-studded event drew in illustrious personalities, including Jemma Redgrave, celebrated for her roles in Dr Who, Holby City, and Grantchester. Currently sharing the screen with Jason Statham in The Beekeeper, Jemma expressed her enthusiasm: “I absolutely loved it. It’s brilliantly written, exceptionally well-performed, and the music is fantastic. Come and see it!”

John Michie, known for his roles in Holby City, Coronation Street, and Taggart, revealed his admiration for the Canvey Island legend, saying, “I’m a big fan of Dr Feelgood. I loved Wilko Johnson, and this cast tonight absolutely nailed it. The music was spot on. It’s a great show; I highly recommend it!”

Patrick Gibson (Shadow and Bone, The Tudors),Richard Gibson (‘Allo ‘Allo), and Penelope Rawlins(award-winning voice artist) praised the evening as “the best evening imaginable,” commending the amazing cast and the performance of fantastic music.

Sadie Nine of BBC Essex Radio described the show as “absolutely fabulous” and urged those near Canvey Island to attend.

The list of VIPs included Richard ‘Kid’ Strange, founder of the mid-1970s proto-punk band Doctor of Madness, and Rebecca Harris MP for Castle Point.

From standing ovations to heartfelt commendations, audiences have showered praise on the world premiere of this rock ‘n’ roll extravaganza. Its enchanting blend of humour and emotion has captivated viewers, who lauded the cast’s brilliance, the well-crafted script, and the superb staging.

Here’s a glimpse of the audience’s acclaim for “Wilko”:

• “An extraordinarily brilliant show. It had integrity; amazing performances, fabulous music, and much to say about life…go see it!”

• “Great show. Brilliant cast. Very well written and staged. Went last night and will be back for sure.”

• “Anyone who is a fan of Dr Feelgood or Wilko Johnson should see it.”

• “It’s brilliant. The actor who plays Wilko is great. All the cast are fantastic. Some laughs and some tears.”

• “Take my hat off to the writer who gave us great insights into Wilko’s life and career.”

• “10/10 – I want to see it again!”

Wilko is a striking biographic play with live music celebrating the extraordinary life of Dr Feelgood co-founder Wilko Johnson. In 2012 the iconic rock star was told he had inoperable cancer and a year to live. Refusing all treatment, he decided to spend his last months living meaningfully: seeing the people, places and things which meant most to him during his remarkable life. Then, a miracle happened….  This new play is a mixture of words, rock ‘n roll, and quotes from the man himself – tells the amazing, uplifting true story of Wilko, the Essex legend. 

Tickets from £19 (plus 65p QNext fee), under 26s £8 (age guidance 11+). To book, call the Box Office on 01708 443333 or visit queens-theatre.co.uk 

[clavissionary-position]

Leon x Emma The Rose That Always Finds Him

tags: fuff, some suggestive content

Leon

Emma can't know how she looks when she smiles at me, but I wish I could show her all the same. I draw close to her face, the shadow of my head eclipsing her cheek just as the corners of her lips vault to opposite ends, and her teeth, a glimpse of a pink tongue, laugh into view, her smile exploding across my heart. Her hair slides soft between my fingertips as I tuck strands behind her ear, letting my hand linger and love along the delicate outer shell. I draw closer and closer until I see myself in her eyes, and it's a reflection more honest than any mirror has ever shown me. She tries so hard not to blink, even as her eyes begin to water. Somehow I always end up kissing her. Maybe I'm hoping that one of these days my smile will mirror hers and she'll finally know.

Emma abruptly breaks from the kiss. The overcast day fails to touch the vividness of her blush. "My King," She whispers with genuine surprise, or at least partial surprise, because I'm clearly not the only one disappointed from how short our kiss was. In fact, I think Emma's moved even closer to me than she was initially.

It's not that I've forgotten that we're in the throne room, or that our guests are still here. It's not that I'm an unfocused man, barring the torment of books. Emma just captivates me. And the meeting was pretty much done anyway.

"My Queen," I say with a grin as I nudge her cheek with the tip of my nose. She doesn't shy away this time, and her tiny hand closes around my wrist. "You just looked so delicious, I couldn't help myself." The growl in my voice isn't intentional but it has a desirable effect. Emma's eyes darken and her smile now is one I don't really want anyone else to see. Those retreating backs at the door can't vacate the room fast enough.

Even as I think that, I don't stop, always surprising myself with my own greed. But I can't help that every time she smiles at me, I lose myself to something so bright and vast that even as king I stagger at its magnitude. She could kill me so easily and she doesn't even know it. She uses her power over me instead to make me the happiest man alive.

Emma

I try not to betray how impatient I am to get back to Leon's room, yet here I am leading the way with a very amused king in my grasp. The longer he stays quiet the more I hear his laughter in these corridors, silent from the afternoon lull in palace activity. Every time I glance over my shoulder, Leon's smile nearly freezes me in place with its brilliance. He's impossibly handsome, but more than anything, the fact that the veil of loneliness has lifted from him makes my heart twinge with something bittersweet.

I wish I could show him that smile. How one smile can be one woman's entire world. Nothing else matters now that he is free. As long as he can greet the future on his own terms, that's enough for me. To be able to share that future with him is a gift I try my best to repay every single day.

"Am I that handsome?" Leon asks, suddenly frowning. He stops me and pulls me back. Before I can answer I'm wrapped up in his arms and pulled onto a familiar balcony.

"Leo-"

He kisses me, and it's different from the one in the throne room just now. His lips move as though he were speaking, but I hear no words. When he pulls away, I can't help but think of how oddly chaste the kiss was. And intimate. Brief but...

"Hm... still not quite right." Leon gives a wry chuckle. "I'll get it, don't worry."

I bring a hand to my lips. Somehow I know exactly what he's talking about. And I can't help but laugh, my heart filled with something so bright and vast that my legs feel weak.

"I like your kisses," I say as I wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his chest. "So feel free to continue being wrong for as long as you wish."

fin

--- Thank you for reading! This may be subject to future updates/enhancements so feel free to revisit ^^

[naoa-ao3]

Eye to Eye

Charles tells him he's a good man but Erik doesn't think so. He knows better than that. He's twisted up inside and full of rage but he's started to like hearing the other man say it. When he does the words ring in his ears and for almost a second Erik imagines he could be what the other man believes he can be.

He won't be but a slim part of him wishes for it just the same. Imagines it in some parody of a normal life neither of them will ever know.

He likes it when the other man smiles and looks at him.

At first he hadn't known what to do with it. These looks and the smiles that follow, the way the man seemed so relaxed around him.

If he knew more perhaps he wouldn't have been so relaxed, he'd only gained a glimpse inside his head after all. The tip of the iceberg and Erik tells himself that if he ever saw more, Charles wouldn't look at him the way he does.

It makes him sometimes want to look at him the same way and he wonders inside if he is even capable of it.

When he thinks of warmth and love he can only hear dogs and bullets.

The last time he had been loved.

After the war. . . after the liberation they hadn't known what to do with him. A small group of children and no relatives to send them to.

He'd almost hated the children who's aunts or uncles had survived. The one's with family left.

After the war he'd felt detached from his own people. He was something other. . . something Schmidt had seen and he feared telling them.

Yet the anger had only festered and now he's a million miles away from where he started and Charles keeps looking at him like he's his best friend, like he's actually glad to see him and him. . . he can't help but look forward to the time spent with the other man.

"You know that worked really well." Charles says one evening after working with Hank. "I think the team is going to pull it together."

"They're still very young." Erik points out.

Charles shrugs and settles into an arm chair. "So are we."

Erik does not feel young.

He has not felt young in a very long time. "You're very confident in them." He say's, not feeling the same confidence. The others have tremendous powers, brilliant and blinding, wonders of nature but they're unpolished, they're still little more than children.

"I have to be." Charles say's, leaning towards him conspiratorially. "After all, if this works out we'll be a proper school. Can you imagine? Parents sending their children here. . . all varieties of mutation learning and excelling together!"

Erik catches himself smiling at the other man's enthusiasm. There's something so bright about Charles. Something that brings out a piece of him he thought once might have been missing.

"See, even you're thinking about it and you're a pessimist." Charles laughs.

"I'm a realist, Charles."

Charles laughs and pours them both drinks, their fingers touching for just a moment when he hands Erik his. "And that's semantics."

He sits back, still feeling the brush of skin on his finger despite the absence of a hand. It lingers in his mind even after he tries to dismiss it.

He's never met anyone like Charles and it has nothing to do with them both being Mutants. He's just never met someone who's mind could electrify his own so totally, who had vision and brilliance and a plan.

"You really believe that parents will send their children to us?" He asks, eyes on the fire.

Charles nods. "Of course, this is just the beginning. One day these halls will be filled with young Mutants. We're only going to increase in number."

"And you really believe the children will be spared the hatred of the world?"

Charles's brightness dims a moment but it's important he push him, important he bring some measure of reality to ground. "We'll just prove to the world what we can be first."

Erik does not agree.

The children should not have to prove themselves like that.

He also knows what happens when you play by the enemy's rules. When you look for compassion among people who have none.

"You don't believe it will work." Charles say's, some disappointment in his words.

He shrugs. "No but I do believe your halls will be full one day. As you said, we will only grown in number."

Charles see's a school, he see's an army.

It's unfortunate but it's reality.

It's what they have.

Charles however leans forward in his seat again and looks him in the eye. "I'll need teachers." He say's.

Erik almost laughs at the idea of himself in a classroom.

He remembers when he had to leave school and then after the war when they told him he had to go back.

He doesn't belong in a classroom.

"I'm serious." Charles say's.

He crosses his legs at the knee and humors him. "And what would I teach? Physical education? You've got Hank for that."

"Hank's a bit more than a P.E. teacher and anyway, you speak multiple languages and you've travelled. Your powers aside I'm sure you could find something."

Oh, he's sure he could but the idea is still amusing.

Erik actually tries to imagine what he could teach. Charles is right, damn him about the foreign language option but it still seems distant and idealistic but if that isn't what Charles is then he doesn't have another word for it and in all of his realism and pessimism he appreciates Charles's idealism.

"Trust me my friend, one day the world will know about us and when they do, you may be surprised by their reaction."

Charles has such optimism, he almost loves that about him and with a painful twinge wonders if that's what his heart is getting close to.

Dangerously close to.

He levitates the fire poker and stirs the logs around, making Charles laugh as he pours them a second drink and then they both settle back and the room becomes warm and orange.

He won't say it but he enjoys these moments and he does almost feel like an old school teacher.

He looks at Charles and wonders if any part of him senses how deep these feelings run beside him.

The man stay's out of his head.

It's respectful but he's never once forgotten that Charles could destroy his mind in an instant if the tables were turned.

"What are you thinking about?" The other man asks, leaning out of his chair to speak to him, eyes bright.

Erik only waves a hand. "The future and the past." Charles asks when he could just find out for himself.

The smile disappears but only slightly. "I'm glad you're here, Erik. I want to build this future with you. . ." He pauses. "I mean I want you to be part of it."

Erik wishes he hadn't revised his words. Just for a moment it was so very good to hear. "Of course I'll be here." He say's, not yet imagining what's to come. "These children can't be left to train themselves." It's light and joking but he does mean it.

Charles however nudges his chair closer and it's unnerving. "No, I do mean I want to build this with you. I've never met anyone. . ." He pauses, eyes searching the floor. Erik just listens. "I've never met anyone I thought I could build it with. Not like with you."

He doesn't believe Charles feels the same things he does.

Charles's mind is full of bright futures and the good in people.

He doesn't dare let the words effect him.

Instead he let's them almost hurt but Charles hasn't looked away and when he meets his eyes he actually entertains the idea that the other man could feel similarly. It makes him feel vulnerable and he hates it. He hates feeling so naked and open.

"I mean it. . . even if you don't feel the same way or. . . have other ideas. There's no one else I'd want. No one. I mean that, Erik."

Eyebrows raised, eyes earnest.

Erik could have wept to hear him say it but instead holds it in.

A hand on his arm then, a pounding in his ears.

"Erik is something wrong?" Charles asks and damn him he looks so utterly worried. "If I've said the wrong thing you can tell me."

The hand is still there and Erik licks his lips. "You haven't." He said. "But I do not think I can be the man you want me to be."

The smile returns. "You don't have to be. You just be the man you are."

His arm twitches under Charles's hand and the man gives it a squeeze.

"I mean it."

Erik is very still.

His heart is hammering and his mind is telling him to end this conversation. It's getting dangerously emotional.

"Are you alright?" Charles asks, eyes intense now.

He thinks of this man as innocent in a way, untouched by the evils of the world.

So unlike him.

"I'm-" He's never at a loss for words.

Something passes behind Charles's eyes and the man suddenly leans in and after a second Erik feels lips on his own.

His hand clenches around the arm of the chair but the kiss is soft and he doesn't pull away or kiss back.

After a moment Charles withdraws, taking his hand from his arm with him and putting it to his lips, eyes terribly sad. "I'm sorry." He say's. "Erik I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

Erik curses himself.

Everything he had not let himself hope for and he hadn't kissed back.

He wonders for a brief moment of insanity if it even actually happened before he see's Charles's eyes and the hurt there.

Charles looks down and he hates himself.

"Don't be sorry." He hears himself say and Charles's eyes find his, some small spark of hope showing.

His own heart is pounding still and after a million years of debate he reaches out, hand to Charles's face and draws him back, kissing him this time and even if it's short and still a little awkward it feels so incredibly good. So very good to kiss and be kissed by someone who. . . who cares for him and whom he cares for in return.

It burns his mouth and brings him almost to tears so he has to end the kiss, too much emotion in his chest.

Charles smiles. "I didn't dare read your mind." He say's, voice soft. "Only to find out you'd never want me to do that. I was afraid."

Erik understands, chest tight.

He swallows and takes Charles's hand, the future uncertain.

"I've not once. . . I didn't entertain the thought that you would want to." He say's, struggling to admit something so close to his chest. He can feel every bone in the other man's hand and savors them.

Charles smiles almost sadly. "Can I do it again then?"

And this time Erik almost smiles, hands only a little clammy. "Please do." He whispers, feeling a hand on his own cheek and lips on his.

They're both glad the door is locked and even if there's a fight to come at least for a moment there is something good in their lives.

There's been precious good in his life so far but Erik is glad at least of this, glad he can feel these things and that someone could feel them in return.

They might not always agree but at least for now they're eye to eye.

[vrmxlho]

SEASON OF LOVE - PRECOGNITION

pairing: geto x gn! reader

day 8 ← masterlist → day 10

the night was still and quiet, with only the soft rustle of leaves outside the window and the muted glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. you lay in bed, feeling the warmth of the sheets against you skin and the softness of the pillows beneath your head.

you weren't sure what type of tea that lady from before had sold you and you also weren't sure how you had suddenly become brave enough to try it. but here you were. for weeks, you had been plagued with sleepless nights. your mind a constant whirlwind of thoughts and worries. yet, you were suddenly calm now.

you could feel yourself slipping into a dreamlike state. it was like someone had pulled your thoughts out of your mind, freeing you of the cluttered emotions and inner monologue, your head was finally silent and completely empty.

you didn't know where you were but the place felt familiar. like a childhood memory that you were just about to let go of.

the sun was high up in the sky, casting its warm and vibrant rays through the enormous bay windows. but despite its brilliance, a different kind of beauty lingered in the air. as you gazed up at the expanse of blue beyond the frames, there, amidst the bright and cloudless heavens, were the stars.

yes, the stars, shining bright and clear despite the blinding sunlight. they seemed to dance and twinkle, as if in celebration of this unexpected moment of visibility.

it was as though the universe had conspired to grant you a glimpse of its secret treasures, hidden away in plain sight. it was as though you were privy to a secret knowledge, a whispered truth that only a select few were privy to. it was a gift from up above. you continued gazing at the tapestry of light so in awe you barely noticed the dark man that stood behind you, gazing at you.

"beautiful aren't they, y/n?" the man said. you felt your soul leave your body as your deep focus was ripped away from the supernatural outdoors to the man looming behind you.

suddenly you weren't standing in a room with bay windows and a golden light anymore. as soon as your bright eyes met his blacked out face you were both transported to a vast, open, field with swaying grass and silver trees glowing in the harsh moonlight.

"where are we?" you weren't expecting a sensical answer yet you asked anyway.

he said something you couldn't really hear. maybe it was the language of the dream. maybe you were just delirious. all you really knew was that you were attracted to this man. god knows who he is, or what he even looks like. the aura around him was like a halo, burning brightly.

he reached out a hand and took yours, pulling you towards him. his soft touch took you to dawn. the sun was creeping up the horizon as the harsh moon was defeated once again. the stars were still casting beams like sunlight through forest leaves. you felt his arms wrap around you, pulling you close.

and then you were kissing, your lips meeting in a passionate embrace. and you felt yourself melting into his arms, losing yourself in the moment. the beams kept gushing out of the sky like spotlights exposing the surroundings. when you pulled away you finally saw his face. it was beautiful. it wasnt something exactly describable. his eyes felt rough yet soft. his hair shone like it had silver threaded through it. and his smile. oh darlings his smile. could cure an illness. truly. his wet and stung lips pulled up by imaginary strings, creases under his cheeks, above his jaw. you wished to bathe in it.

"who are you?"

"i'm ███████"

"i'm sorry i didn't quite catch that..."

"███████"

"could you say that once m–"

"i'll tell you tommorrow." his arms now left the embrace and he took a step back, maybe out of guilt, maybe to admire you.

"tommorrow? what do you mean tommorrow? are you conscious?"

"are you?"

"i'm not supposed to be... it's a dream..."

"are you sure it's a dream?"

"what else could it be?"

"we've never met before. yet you dreamt me of. that's not supposed to happen is it?"

"you must just be a version of all the people i've met before. is that so strange?"

"i'll see you tommorrow."

with that the sun collapsed into the horizon and everything was dark. the man was gone too. it wasn't dark like the colour black. it was dark like you had suddenly gone blind. like nothing existed and nothing will. as if your eyes had never learnt to look and you brain had never processed earthly images before.

tommorrow. tommorrow? will it really come? would you really see him again? would he be in your dreams again?

waking up felt like a betrayal really. you wished for the night to come again. you wanted to see him, again. it didn't matter if you were mildly isolated in the real world, as long as he was there in the dream world.

most of the day was a blur. you went on with your quotidian tasks but it exhausted you more than it should have. the throngs of people hurrying, the honking of cars and the caophony of the city all blended together as you drifted through the crowds of the city. your mind was elsewhere; back with the man you missed.

everything reminded you of him. even the smallest more meaningless details took you back in time. the tall panes of glass on emerging buildings that reflected all that they saw reminded you of his glistening eyes. the falling feathers of crows reminded you of his velvety hair. it was so stupid to be infatuated with a man who wasn't real. but somehow you felt the red string of fate pull you to him every time he crossed your mind. which was often. all the time really.

you trudged through the streets you cared little of, wishing to sit in your sweet bed and be with the one you wanted, once again.

but something suddenly caught your eye. it was in middle of all the greyness surrounding you. there stood a framed window into your dream. it stood on a easel in middle of a desolate park where nature had reclaimed its land; vines and vegetation stretched onto the pavement and around benches.

the window looked right into the room with the bay windows where the sun shown alongside the stars. it was emitting light as if it wanted you to touch it and pass back into the world you so yearned to be in. and you complied. how could you not? it was begging you, daring you even.

"paint's not dry yet, y/n." said the same voice you had heard last night; the one you kept hearing all day; every breath, every hour, every moment.

"who are you?"

"getou."

"have we met before?" of course you have, you were waiting to meet him again. the image of his perfect face was burnt into your mind, tattooed onto your eyelids, imprinted on your soul.

"you know very well we've never met before..." he smirked. you couldn't tell why. this was no smirking matter, you were being very serious. and you could feel your knees buckling more every moment you spent not in his arms.

"i swore we had."

"that was in a dream."

"can dreams not come true?" completely unintentially, or perhaps with just the right amount of intention, you stepped closer to him to comfort your knees.

"i suppose they can."

he pushed your chin up with his finger and kissed you just as he had the night before.

the kiss was like a breeze in the middle of summer, soft and gentle yet refreshing. a moment frozen in time, as if the world had stopped spinning and all that existed was the two of you, lips locked in a tender welcome.

your mouths fit perfectly together, like pieces of a puzzle finally finding their match. the taste of his lips was intoxicating, something undescribable, almost like god's ambrosia. the heavens around soon crackled with electricity, as if the universe was rejoicing in your reunion. your two hearts were in sync, as if they were one.

[velereth]

FFXIV Write Day 5 - Barbarous

In my WoL's canon, Emet-Selch is inspired to make the Azem crystal by a brief encounter with a shard long ago, not that long after the Sundering. This is that encounter. 1782 words. CW for death and typical Ascian disdain for the sundered and obviously spoilers.

The settlement could scarcely even be called such, a loose grouping of pitiful, miserable beings living in a series of squalid caves, clad in skins, if that. No agriculture. No animals kept. No structures. They hadn’t even managed to master fire. Not a one among them had the slightest spark of the arcane, never mind the creation magic that should have transformed this miserable excuse of a settlement into a proper dwelling.

Nowhere was there the slightest hint of anything more than grouping in numbers for the vague illusion of safety from the predators that roamed the land. Oh, they gathered plants for food, and others with comically primitive weapons hunted beasts to drag back to the camp, but to call it ‘sharing’ when the stronger among them took most of it and left naught but scraps for the weakest, with no true care given to their wellbeing… It was repugnant. Selfish. Barbarous.

Emet-Selch didn’t know why he bothered to torment himself like this. What good could come of observing these hopeless sundered creatures? The Unsundered had long determined that the pitiful remnants of their people were utterly beyond hope. Centuries past the Sundering the creatures had at least settled down into something resembling people, an improvement to be sure from their initial nigh-formless existence, but his keen sight could clearly see that naught had truly changed.

The jagged edges of their hopelessly fragmented souls cut his heart each time he observed them. Pale, almost imperceptible shades scarcely detectable in hopeless thin, dim shards of souls, utterly abhorrent. Here and there in these pathetic creatures he caught a glimpse of familiar hues, and that made it all the worse, seeing someone he had known reduced to… This. Some days it was all he could do not to weep in despair.

The creatures didn’t even have a language yet, pointing and grunting to each other to ‘communicate’. Oh, their meaning was easy enough to take, to be sure, but even to his ears there were no words, merely ideas.

He supposed they could be taught, after a fashion. Not long after they had returned from the Rift to the shattered world they had come to call the Source and beheld the ruins of their home, moving in silent shock through the broken world and its barely-extant ‘inhabitants’, they had determined to preserve what they could of their fellows.

To that end they had created a series of crystals bearing memories of the rest of the Convocation. Who they had been, spells they had developed, the powers entrusted to their offices. One for each of the three of them, should they somehow fall, and ten more for the remainder who had fallen in the Sundering. There should have been eleven, in truth, but his argument to memorialize the Fourteenth seat had been overruled by the others.

Afterward he had been tasked with seeing if he could locate what remained of the others and use the crystals they had made to restore them to some semblance of themselves. The experiment had been a success, after a fashion. While the shards they had raised back to their offices were able to communicate and understand, and access some portion of their former potential, they lacked their former brilliance, their creation magic, so much of their abilities… Still, they were useful enough, and able to more readily interact with their peers.

Emet-Selch should have been unmistakable as he moved through the settlement, nigh thrice their height, his aether a blaring beacon despite his lack of a physical body. Yet none of them had the ability to perceive him, and he passed unremarked as he watched. A man laughed as he snatched an old woman’s food for himself, easily swatting off her feeble attempts to get it back, and Emet-Selch decided he’d had more than enough, turning and stalking from the camp. At least the forests were still forests, even if the people were not truly people.

Well, if their plan worked, it wouldn’t be an issue forever. They would restore their world, making it whole again. The creatures would benefit too, he supposed, eventually becoming whole again, not that they would properly appreciate it without knowledge. He sighed deeply. The scope of their work was massive, and he wondered if it could even be done, but there was naught for it. Things could not be allowed to remain as they were. He would not suffer it to-

His musings were interrupted by the sound of a woman screaming nearby. He sighed again, even deeper, and turned towards the sound out of a morbid curiosity to see what pitiful method of death would befall the owner of the voice, teleporting near it.

A young woman barely out of adolescence cowered in front of a coeurl that had surprised her as she gathered berries, the pouch laying spilled on the ground as she whimpered, the beast growling as it readied to pounce.

Emet-Selch pondered for a moment if he should try to help her, and had almost resolved to do so when a shout came and a spear hit the beast’s side, and the sight he had least expected and truthfully never wanted to behold burst into the clearing, rushing in and grabbing the spear back and brandishing it at the creature. The face of the man was unrecognizable, shaggy brown hair and beard and unremarkable grey eyes as meaningless as any of the others, but the soul that lay beneath it…

As broken as any of the others, pale and nigh-imperceptible, but the color was utterly unmistakable. He had known it since childhood, had loved its bearer for eons, and his heart had shattered along with it when Helios had returned to Amaurot just before the Sundering, nearly making it to his side. But it had been too late, and he’d watched heartbroken as Helios had shielded him and the others, sacrificing himself to buy them time to escape into the Rift. The damnable Light of the Sundering, too close, had reduced his body to dust, and his last sight as he had fled was of that beloved soul cracking to pieces…

And here, now, was one of them, the once brilliant amber dimmed to nearly nothing, but still so recognizable. He raised his hand to help, but it was already too late. The man had turned to yell at the woman, pointing back to the settlement, and the moment of distraction had been all the coeurl had needed to attack. The woman screamed again and ran, and the man fought back, burying the spear in the beast’s side, sending it crashing to the ground as he collapsed next to it, his abdomen torn open and a deep bite to his neck, blood flowing from his wounds.

Emet-Selch shouldn’t have cared. It wasn’t Helios, after all, just a pathetic shard that had been undone in an instant. Helios would have subdued such a beast with laughable ease, And yet the scene cut him to his core, and a strangled cry rose in his soul. Because even as much as the man was not Helios, his actions were so very much those of his lost love. Helios had always rushed to the aid of others, heedless of his own safety, ever the consummate hero. Just as the man before him had.

He approached him, scanning his wounds with a sigh. The damage was far too great. Perhaps if he could have been ascended he could have been preserved, at least, but there was no way of doing that. He cursed the others for a brief moment as he crouched over the dying man, pity welling up in him for the first time. Here at last was proof that at least something of Helios remained… And that perhaps something of who his people had been lingered within their shards.

He could not watch this and do nothing. The man would die, that was inevitable, but it would be intolerably painful and slow. And this shard, this ‘hero’, deserved better. He adjusted his size to match the man’s, hand held above his chest, and invoked one of the magics of his office, unbinding the man’s aether. One of his duties as Emet-Selch had been to assist the hopelessly injured and the aetherically deficient who could not do it themselves in returning to the star. He hadn’t expected to ever do it again, and yet here he was.

The man’s ragged breathing and whimpers of pain eased as the familiar blue glow of a return surrounded him, and Emet-Selch let out a sigh, resting his hand on the man’s cheek. A pointless gesture, the man wouldn’t be able to see or feel it, but it felt right. He gasped when the man’s hand moved to the spot, as if to cover the hand with his own, and pale grey eyes seemed to lock onto his own. It couldn’t be. None of these creatures possessed the ability. And yet the man smiled at him as he faded away, and somehow Emet-Selch’s already shattered heart broke again.

Emet-Selch stared at the spot for a moment, his mind churning. Impossible. This had been nothing, he had seen what he wanted to see in the gestures, and this was just a moment of weakness. Helios had betrayed the Convocation. There was no value in these creatures, this man’s actions were just proof of it, how frail and pointless their lives were, dying over and over in the simplest of ways. None of it mattered.

And yet.

For the first time since the aftermath of the Sundering had numbed him and his observations had hardened his heart, Emet-Selch wept. For Helios. For Hythlodaeus. For his world. For all that had been lost and taken.

And yet. And yet.

Hope he had thought lost swelled in him, and he raised his hand, gathering aether into a curiously shaped crystal, as brilliantly amber as his beloved’s soul had once been, a symbol of the sun etched upon its surface. He clutched it to his chest as he began to enchant it, filling it with his memories. Helios’ life. His death. The magics he had once used. Every single little detail he could remember, he poured into the crystal. Even this encounter, brief and sad as it was, and a dedication.

“Herein I commit the chronicle of the traveler. Shepherd to the stars in the dark. Though the world be sundered and our souls set adrift, where you walk, my dearest friend, fate shall surely follow. For yours is the Fourteenth seat—The Seat of Azem.”

[usagimen]

    𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒕𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝒆𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒆𝒔, just when the light peaks in behind the curtains, where night begins to fall && every lantern illuminates. Carefully, she pours the tea with grace as if practiced, done a thousand times with love && care. Warmth cascades upon her features, a hum that echoes throughout carrying itself in stagnant air, beckoning those who are lost to find a place amongst red vinyl && quaint music. Figures clad in black, oozing an essence that man could not understand nor would never appreciate, she is not the exception - only one of them in her intimidating heels. “Did you come here for a vacation?” the sweetness of her voice is venomous, almost fanged. In the brilliance of the lantern light a glimpse of bone shows, then vanishes, calloused digits that serve with an ease. A pat upon the shoulder as she sits across, politely straightening her skirt, a second skin adhering to long limbs, graceful in her cold beauty.

       “Oh my, if you’re here will I see the dear dragon prince or is this just an audience with boring old me? Careful, flattery gets you nowhere”

@achroanimus // s.c.  

[gacmediadaily]

Rising Against the Titans

When you switch on your TV, it’s easy to gravitate towards those big-name channels that have been around for decades. Entering this established TV entertainment realm and making a mark is no easy feat. However, within a mere two years, the Great American Family network (GAF), born from the vision of television maestro Bill Abbott, has started making impressive strides. GAF has occasionally secured a spot on the charts, proving its content resonates. It’s a testament that viewers are not only tuning in but genuinely enjoying what GAF brings to the table.

The Man with the Midas Touch

Bill Abbott isn’t new to the game. Many might remember him as the force behind Hallmark’s meteoric rise. Under his guidance, the channel went from being a mere blip on the TV radar to a household name. Remember the “Countdown to Christmas” on Hallmark? That was Abbott’s brainwave. Over the span of several decades, he transformed Hallmark into the go-to destination for heartwarming, family-friendly entertainment. And now, observing GAF’s budding success, it seems he’s well on his way to replicating that magic once again.

A Brief Glimpse into Great American Family (GAF)

Launched in 2021 by GAC Media, the Great American Family network has swiftly carved a niche in the vast television landscape. Available to approximately 59 million households, which translates to 51% of pay television viewers, GAF has bridged the gap for audiences seeking both secular and “soft” faith-based content. With availability across platforms like Xfinity, Spectrum, DirecTV, and streaming services like Philo and Sling TV, its accessibility is widespread. Though GAF is a fresh face in the media world, its dedication to wholesome, family-oriented, and faith-friendly programming is rapidly positioning it as a preferred choice for many viewers across the nation.

GAF’s Star Power Ignites the Screen

In the vast galaxy of TV networks, the GAF is swiftly becoming a shining star, and much of that brilliance can be attributed to its ensemble of talented actors. Just this past Saturday night, viewers were treated to “A Harvest Homecoming.” This film not only made an impressive mark on the crowded cable charts but also reunited the captivating duo of Trevor Donovan and Jessica Lowndes, eliciting nostalgic memories of their “90210” days. The film’s success is even more commendable given the promotional hiccups faced due to a SAG strike.

Yet, the allure of GAF extends beyond just this pairing. The network boasts icons like Laurie Loughlin, whose grace never fades. Additionally, Danica McKellar, with her enduring “Wonder Years” charm, Candace Cameron, fondly remembered as the heart of “Full House,” and many other talented actors, all contribute significantly to the depth of GAF’s lineup.

With such a star-studded lineup, GAF, in just two years, promises an entertainment future that’s not only bright but stellar.

New Kid on The Block with Old School Charm

Understanding the significance of GAF’s progress is akin to imagining moving to a new school and trying to find your place amidst everyone’s established cliques. That’s GAF for you — the new kid on the block in the TV landscape, looking for its own niche. In just its second year, it’s as if they haven’t just claimed a seat in the crowded cafeteria but are now also getting those sought-after invites to the coolest parties.

Final Thoughts

Entering the world of TV is daunting. But armed with experienced leadership, star power, and compelling content, GAF is showing it has the potential to not just fit in but excel. Here’s to more years of top-notch entertainment from GAF!

[kapten425]

Chapter 2 Part 1 "A Glimpse of Hope"

The golden light of the setting sky bathed the city of Nokstela. The bright sun of the Lands Between slowly gave it's place to the glimmering stars above. Their brilliance only second to the divine light of the Erdtree. Inside Master Enouch's workshop a young man was trying to put together a glintstone powered core, under the watchfull eye of his teacher. Master Enouch stroke his beard as he observed his student's work. While the young man was very talented in the use of glintstone magic, when it came to glidstone mechanism he was out of his field. A simple core was a task of 1 hour, 2 if he was an amateur. He was struggling to make it work for 5 hours, with no signs of success. The young man tried to put the core into motion. The core's outside rings started spinning, showing signs progress. The young man was about to take a deep breath when suddenly the core's operation stopped. The young man smashed his fists on the table in a feat of anger.

"Cursed pile of metal scraps."

Master Enouch placed his hand on the young man's shoulder.

"Patience young one. Glintstone Mechanisms take time to figure out."

"It's completely useless for me to learn this kind of crap. I could be practicing my glidstone phalanx spells right now instead of......"

Before he could finish his sentence an old man in blue robe, decorated with small glintstone peddles entered the workshop. He was visually agitated, indicating that he had heard the young one's insults to Master Enouch.

"Seluvis, the art of glintstone mechanisms is a sacred one. Respect is mandatory. Especially to Master Enouch, who is the best glintstone engineer in Nokstela. And a personal friend of mine."

Young Seluvis lowered his head after the man spoke. Master Enouch smiled towards his unexpected visitor.

"Lusat, you are here earlier than expected."

"I just happened to finish my duties faster than anticipated. So I came to see how my poor mannered pupil was holding up. Only to be embarrassed by his words. I apologize my friend."

He said and bowed to Enouch. Enouch smiled towards Lusat.

"No need old pal. I'm sure mister Seluvis feels very sorry about this little slip of tongue ."

Lusat gave a confused look. Before Seluvis could ask what he meant Master Enouch continued.

"Which is why he would return here tomorrow morning to finish this glintstone core."

Master Enouch turned to the clearly angry Seluvis, saying.

"No matter how much time it takes him to make it operational."

Seluvis tried to protest, but he was cut short by Master Lusat.

"I'm sure he will. Right Seluvis."

Seluvis gave a defeated look at Maste Enouch. As a confirmation he replied.

"Very well master Enouch. I'll be here tomorrow morning."

He turned to leave the workshop. As he reached for the handle he faced the masters once again.

"But heed this. The project that master Enouch wants me to do is impossible to perform. No one can make this core of garbage work."

With that final act of defiance he exited the workshop. Lusat sighted. His student's pride was going to be a problem for him in the future. He turned to his friend who was more focused on Seluvis's work on the core.

"Once again my friend, I sincerely apologize for Seluvis's reaction. I should have taught him better."

Master Enouch, still focused on the core replied.

"No need to worry. Compared to other pupils I had in the past, he was rather mild. If he ever steps out of line, I will run his ass to the ground. Protégé or not."

Lusat came closer to observe the mechanism. Despite Seluvis's crude language he had a point. The mechanism in front of him was rather complex. Normally glintstone cores were utilising the natural rotary movement of the glintstone crystal in the centre to commence it's operation. As the natural rotation takes place the surrounding rings are adjusted to create 3 layers around the crystal that rotate counter wise. That slight interaction creates a type of energy that can be utilised for powering up a larger mechanism like a marionette, like a perpetual clockwork device. This mechanism was trying to utilize the friction between the core and the mechanism by making the rings go diagonal, passing through the other rings way, colliding with each other. It looked impossible indeed. Lusat looked at Enouch. His gaze was wandering around the mechanism.

"Enouch, my friend, I don't want to judge your work....."

Enouch turned to Lusat with a questioning look on his face. Lusat continued.

"But don't you think this mechanism is a little bit advanced for my pupil?"

Enouch smiled at his friend's comment.

"Well Lusat. You see......"

Before he could finish the inside curtain of his workshop opened and a young Elias entered the room. He was wearing a blacksmith's apron with oil stains on it. His pockets were full of tools while his hands, full of stains, were holding something wrapped in a linel cloth. He had signs of oil and dust on his face with only his greenish blue eyes and his black hair being somewhat clean. He approached master Enouch with a steady pace.

"Master Enouch I finished the rounding and polishing of the crystal you gave me. I am sure now it will fit inside the core much easier."

Master Enouch became serious as Elias handed him the modified glintstone crystal. He took it from the cloth and brought it close to his eyes. The crystal was perfectly spherical. Any imperfections that it had before were gone, and with the polishing the crystal looked more like a gem than a glintstone crystal. Lusat came closer to observe the small ord as well, with similar reactions. After the inspection master Enouch smiled towards Elias and gave him the crystal.

"Perfect work as always Elias. And in half the time I expected."

Elias smiled widely after hearing those words.

"I was just doing my job master. Nothing more."

Elias now noticed Lusat looking at him with an impressed look. Lusat decided to talk.

"Indeed impressive work my boy."

Elias realised that he hadn't paid his respects to his master's visitor.

"Oh .... I apologize for my poor manners. My name is Elias, a humble apprentice of Master Enouch. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Elias then bowed with a small movement to Master Lusat. When Lusat saw Elias's act of respect he started laughing. Not in a insulting way, but with a satisfying one.

"Hahahaha truly Seluvis can learn a thing or two from you dear boy."

Enouch seeing the happy atmosphere he grabbed Lusat by the shoulder.

"Elias let me introduce you to my old friend and one of the grand masters of the Raya Lucaria Academy, Master Lusat."

Lusat with a playful sight he stretched out his hand.

"An honour, young Elias. It's refreshing to see someone with true manners."

Elias flinched at the sound of Lusat's profession. And seeing that he stretched out his hand he offered his accordingly. By this point he had figured out why he was here.

"Then you must Seluvis's master. I presume."

"Indeed. Even though he is an excellent mage, he still has a lot to learn. And judging from Enouch's respect towards you. You must be very talented to have chosen you as his apprentice."

Elias smiled for the praise he was given by Lusat.

"I'm just doing what I know is right, under the tutelage of master Enouch. I own him a lot."

Lusat looked at Elias with a questionable look. But before he could ask what he meant, Enouch already had Elias's focus on Seluvis's project.

"Elias I need your help over here. I'm sure you are familiar with this glintstone core design."

Elias looked at the Seluvis's core. After a few seconds he sighted moving his hands to his sides.

"He didn't succeed. Didn't he."

"Correct my boy."

Elias placed one of his hands on his forehead, clearly disappointed.

"I told him, he cannot simply replicate the design and make it work. He needs to understand the reason why....."

Enouch stopped Elias from continuing by grabbing his shoulder. He then nodded his head, confirming what Elias was trying to say.

"I know my boy. But this is not why I show you this. Tell me. How much time do you need to make it work."

Elias tilted his head to the side in order to get a different view of the core. After a moment he replied.

"About 15-20 minutes tops. Do you want me to write down my steps."

Enouch smiled at Elias. Efficient as ever.

"Yes please. In the meantime me and Lusat will go a little bit outside. I need some fresh air. Call us when you finish."

Elias sat on the chair and grabbed the tools from his apron. His eyes focused on his new task.

"Right away master. Take your time."

And with that Enouch and Lusat exited the workshop. The night had already fallen on top the city. Master Enouch closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Lusat looked at his with a puzzled look as he started to talk

"Enouch, you are hiding things from me. Why you never told me you had an apprentice."

Enouch reached to his pocket and took out a small smoking pipe. After putting a few dried leaves, he lighted it up with the use of a small matchstick and started smoking.

"To tell you the truth, I never thought I would ever accept one. Elias, although, is special."

"Care to explain this."

Enouch smiled.

"Elias is an orphan, Lusat. An orphan that was wondering the city 5 years ago. I saw his potential and decided to take him under my protection."

Lusat looked at his friend with a saddened look.

"Oh I'm sorry, if I knew..."

"That's why I brought you outside. I knew you would ask what he meant. He is a good kid and I wish to help him as much as I can. After all I own this to his parents."

"Did you knew them?"

"No, and neither he. But his foster parents were albinaurics. They found him bundled up in a linel clothing off the western sea coast of Liurnia as a baby. They raised him to the albinauric village south of here. But after their deaths, Elias was left all alone. I'm sure you can understand how they died."

Lusat continued with a sad movement.

"The albinauric curse I presume."

Enouch nodded. He continued while he was smoking his small pipe.

" After a while he came to Nokstela and I stumbled across him. He showed me his potential for machineries and I decided to take him in. I taught him everything I know about my art, and he accepted them without a moment's hesitation. Then I saw it. His spark for creation. He worked on my workshop day and night. Never complaining, never stopping. And most importantly he elevated even my own knowledge upon glintstone motors. You already saw his work."

Enouch pointed at his back.

"The motor Seluvis was trying to make it work, was Elias's design."

Lusat looked bewildered. Enouch was talking about Elias, as he was talking about a grand master. He tried to clear his throat.

"Come on now Enouch. He can't be that good."

Enouch chuckled at his friend's comment.

"You know me too well, Lusat. I would never joke about this kind of things."

He then looked at the night sky of Nokstela. His eyes fixed on the constellations above.

"I tell you, Lusat. No matter how difficult a task is Elias would bring it to fruition. When it comes down to his capabilities. Elias, at one point, he will be able to bring anything back to life, mechanical or not."

Lusat looked at Enouch.

"Anything?"

"Anything....."

[abyssmalice]

Artifact Stories: Eulogy of a Dream

Flower of Life: A Jewel’s Nostalgia

A crystalline flower that once served as a decorative centerpiece for its Liyuen master. If rocks are fated to erode into dust, so too did the brilliance of this jewel become clouded at the end of the world.

This flower was a heirloom from the old world, I was told. An old man cradled it as though it were as frail as him.

The Final Calamity was many, many years ago, far before his time. The man did not know of blue skies, green earth, and shining stars. But this jewel flower showed the most fleeting glimpse of what once was.

"In this broken world, this is the same as rubble and rock; useless, meaningless." "But to my father and his father, this was their whole world encased in their hands." "The same goes for me... It taught me the meaning of the word [beauty] - it showed me that there were things called [flowers] with colors that do not exist anywhere anymore.” "Though my life has been nothing but ash and misery... To know the world used to have something so wonderful, to know there can be something worth living for still—"

The man exhaled a great breath, hacking and shuddering as he offered his heirloom to me. I tried to refuse it. But his trembling hands insisted.

It is inevitable that even bedrock will be eroded down into nothingness. But at the same time, no matter how time flows or how much erosion is endured, [humans] continue to press on, holding tight to the principles of their heart.

How painfully ironic - and yet, how beautifully fitting.

And so, does this jewel continue to live on, longer than humans ever could. Thusly I have witnessed, and honored.

Plume of Death: A Bird’s Innocence

A feather belonging to a genus of swans native to Mondstadt. Its unblemished, pure white hue is a stark resistance to the grim reality that it came from.

When I stepped out from the depths of the deepest darkness, I thought I had awoken into a nightmare.

The sky was a dull red, overcast with unmoving clouds of smoke. The earth was dry and dead, the color of rust and rot. There was no wind, no rain, no life. The world was a burning husk of what it should have been.

“This is... This can't be right! This can't be my world! What happened here? How did it become...” My hands clawed over my chest. Beneath the skin, I could feel the soft thump of blood and life, of my frail breaths tasting a lingering trace of ash. Even so, as I stood there, in what must have been the ruins of a free city, I could not fathom what I was looking at.

That is, until a bird’s cry rung into my ears, shattering the silence.

A bright white silhouette darted out from a crumbling house. Out of curiosity - or was it desperation, at that time? - I looked inside that house. The place was ransacked, and nothing of material significance could be found.

Except—for a bird’s nest, made from paper scraps torn from a nearby set of children’s books.

A few feathers still littered the nest, scattered from sudden flight. They were such a clean white; an impossible contrast to the dirty, destroyed world around it. Perhaps that’s why - that’s why I took one of those feathers for myself, tucking it between my clothes, near to my heart. For if such a beautiful thing could still exist in these ruins... then, there was still hope for me as well.

Sands of Eon: A Journaled Despair

A metallic pocketwatch designed in the traditional Fontainen style. The clock hands have rusted to a halt, matching the end of all life.

As I journeyed through collapsed courtrooms and swampy waterways, I found a small hut on the edges of this ruined nation. I took notice of it because the hut wasn’t in a dilapidated state. Though no one was inside, I found the barest of necessities: a bed, a table with a stump for a chair, and a small shelf of miscellaneous things like bandages and even books. There were all of these things that showed a solitary life, but there was no food or water to be seen.

Instead, just barely gleaming on the table, there was a pocketwatch. Despite its broken form, it bore a sense of diligent maintenance.

I examined the cracked glass of its face, the dirt coating the thin numbering inside, the rust of its metal casing - and noticed that there was a hidden compartment on the backside. Opening it, a few pieces of paper fell out, tightly rolled up. Most of the rolls of paper had nothing but lines printed onto them - a long series of crosses, counting something.

The last roll had a single, lonely word: “goodbye”

At that moment, I looked up at the window facing the table. Outside, there was nothing but dull skies and shattered marble that could have been art or homes. This desolate scenery had accompanied me throughout my journey so far, never-changing. ...Somewhere in my heart, I already knew what happened here.

Even so—even though it would be impossible, I wish I could have met this pocketwatch’s owner. If only to say they are not alone in this sad world...

Goblet of Eonothem: A Straggler’s Glory

A cracked cup molded with the iconic techniques of Natlanic metal casting. Its bronze luster has since been burnt and corroded into obscurity alongside the golden age of this world.

Though I could not measure an exact passing of time, my travels made it clear that several long eons had passed between my disappearance and my return to the world. The fires of the end had since died into ash, mixing with lava to become the bedrock of the new world. But even as these grave changes occurred, some things persisted. For war begets war, and the children of divine war were no different.

“—Hand o’er all you got, little missy.” A man with many scars pointed a sword at me. A few other men circled around me simultaneously.

“W-Wait, I don’t want to fight—” The scarred man barked a laugh. “Hah! That’s what they all say. That’s what they all do.” “But look ‘round you! Tell me what you see! Where do you think we’ll be going but Hell?” “That said - no one wants to go down without a fight. No one. After all, if we really wanted to give up, none of us would be here anyway, right?”

I could not find an immediate response to that. His men snickered at my silence.

“Since we’re doomed to this... Then, with whatever we’ve got left, we’ll keep going. And we’ll all enjoy ourselves as much as we can—!” The man lunged at me then, his sword raised for a killing blow. I remember that moment clearly - my reflection in his blade, the blaze of madness in his eyes. I remember, clearly. The way I severed his head in a blink.

“...You’re right.” Finally, I answered, softly. “If death stared me down, I wouldn’t surrender. After all, I did die once - and here I am, still.”

It didn’t take more than a few minutes to deal with the rest. As I stared down at my bloodied handiwork, an uncomfortable feeling crossed my heart. A momentary feeling of pity - that in a different world, this man and his friends wouldn’t have met such a crude ending like this. And a momentary feeling of guilt - for in truth, I was no better than him. With the danger past me, I could freely pick through the pockets of these corpses for anything useful.

But like everyone else, they didn’t have much to themselves. Yet, there was a single broken cup in the leader’s possession. Such an ornamental object had no real use. But the cup had been carefully protected within his belongings.

I wonder, at times - what did that man believe in, truly? Was the past forsaken, the present scorned, and the future damned? Or did this man, who would forever have nothing to his name, still desire to have something to call his own?

Such are the nameless stories lost with the burning epilogue of yesteryear.

Circlet of Logos: A Sagacious Prayer

A flower crown made from withered plants found in Sumeru. It mirrors the antediluvian headwear of the wise - until all knowledge came to rot with the great plague called melancholia.

In a region of barren fields and withering realms, I had a most unexpected encounter: Hidden away in a tiny grove, there was a small group of children.

They beheld me with a mixture of confusion and hostility. In turn, I opened my arms to them with uncertainties and pleasantries. It took them some time to accept me. But I persisted, offering them food and stories.

Even now, I cannot fully explain why I looked after them so. Perhaps, observing their young faces, I was reminded of my little brothers; a homesickness. Perhaps, observing their loneliness, I was startled by the absence of any guardians; a protectiveness. Or, most likely, observing their weakened states, I already realized - they weren’t long for this world.

And—it would be far too sad for their passing to be in pain and silence.

So I stayed by them, putting them to sleep with bedtime tales and gentle lullabies. I would watch their shallow breaths soon still, their faint smiles being the sole indicator of a sweet dream as they passed away. I would do this for all of them - until the last one passed away in the night, in my arms.

The morning after, I would awaken with that still-warm corpse in my embrace, and I would look to the rusted skies between the boughs of dead trees. A question rang quietly in my mind, begging for resolution in the frozen silence.

Nothing was forthcoming. Only [they] spoke to me. The silver lifeblood in me, whispering.

Once before, as is now, as it will be in the future— To seek answers of the unfathomable, a priest would be chosen with a crown of flawless white branches. They would be sent into the darkest depths, to seek the ancient silver tree in the buried capitol.

But each priest would come across a withered tree, its roots littered with the thousand crowns of their predecessors. There, the past and the present and the future will be laid to rest. For this journey will repeat, and another priest will set forth into the depths, adorned once more with a crown of forbidden knowledge.

This is both our destiny and our history. A status quo that will never change until the blazing, defiant existence called [the human heart] seizes a sudden miracle.

Like... yes, like a wingless bird trying to write a story in the human tongue. With an inked pen held in their beak, struggling and scratching marks on paper for eternity. —A feat bordering on the ludicrous. But not impossible, nonetheless.

Thus do I pray, fervently, endlessly. That at some point - the bird called [humanity] will write a complete and proper story, with a beginning and a middle and an ending. And it will be the story of how the cycle finally ends.

[fikri-46]

Top 7 must-visit historical landmarks in Ancient Egypt

Ancient Egypt is a land of timeless wonders, where history and mythology intertwine to create some of the most awe-inspiring landmarks in the world. From the towering pyramids that have stood the test of time to the intricately carved temples that tell tales of gods and pharaohs, Egypt's historical sites offer a unique window into a civilization that flourished over 4,000 years ago. These landmarks not only showcase the architectural and engineering brilliance of the ancient Egyptians but also provide deep insights into their religious beliefs, culture, and daily life. 

Whether you're walking through the Valley of the Kings, standing in awe before the Great Sphinx, or exploring the massive Karnak Temple, each site is a journey back in time, offering a glimpse into the grandeur and mystery of ancient Egypt. These must-visit historical landmarks are essential for any traveler seeking to understand the legacy of this ancient civilization.

Here are some must-visit historical landmarks in ancient Egypt.

1. The Last Standing Wonder, the Great Pyramid of Giza: One of the most famous historical sites in Egypt and the entire globe is the Great Pyramid of Giza, sometimes referred to as the Pyramid of Khufu. Built more than 4,500 years ago during the Old Kingdom's Fourth Dynasty, the huge edifice was initially intended to serve as the tomb for Pharaoh Khufu. For more than 3,800 years, at 146 meters, it stood as the highest man-made building on Earth. As the final surviving wonder of the ancient Seven Wonders of the World, the Great Pyramid is a testament to the mastery of engineering and architecture. The Grand Gallery and the King's Chamber are only two of the internal areas of the pyramid that visitors can explore to see the amazing magnificence and accuracy that the ancient Egyptians were able to accomplish without the use of modern technology.

2. The Sphinx, the Giza Plateau's protector: The mysterious Sphinx, a massive limestone statue with the head of a pharaoh and the body of a lion, is located next to the Great Pyramid of Giza. It is thought to represent Khafre, Khufu's son. The 73-meter-long and 20-meter-tall Sphinx, a representation of strength and wisdom, has watched over the Giza Plateau for millennia. The Sphinx's attraction has been increased over the ages by the controversy and mystery surrounding its origins and purpose. Its enormous dimensions and the deft artistry that brought this legendary beast to life are marvels for visitors. The Sphinx is still a vital representation of the magnificence of ancient Egypt, despite the deterioration and harm it has sustained over time.

3. Karnak Temple: The Greatest Temple Complex: The Temple of Karnak, one of the biggest and most important religious structures ever constructed, is situated in Luxor. This 2,000-year-old temple complex, which covers more than 100 hectares, was built with contributions from multiple Pharaohs, notably Hatshepsut and Ramses II. The Temple of Karnak was an important Egyptian religious site, dedicated to the Theban trinity of Amun, Mut, and Khonsu. The location is well-known for its enormous Hypostyle Hall, which has 134 soaring columns covered in elaborate carvings and hieroglyphic writing. Aside from them, visitors can tour the Avenue of Sphinxes, which formerly connected Karnak to the Luxor Temple, and the holy lake. Karnak is a must-visit location for those interested in the religious and architectural accomplishments of Ancient Egypt because of its majesty and size.

4. The Valley of the Kings: The Pharaohs' Last Resting Place: One of the most significant archeological sites in Egypt is the Valley of the Kings, which is situated close to Luxor on the west bank of the Nile. During the New Kingdom, Pharaohs and wealthy nobility were buried in this valley (1550–1070 BCE). These tombs, in contrast to the pyramids, were tucked away in the cliffs to keep grave thieves away. More than sixty tombs may be found in the valley, among them the well-known tomb of Tutankhamun, which Howard Carter found there in 1922. The beautiful wall murals and inscriptions that cover the tombs offer important insights into ancient Egyptian beliefs about the afterlife. Several of these tombs are open for exploration, and when they are, visitors may marvel at the intricate artwork and vivid colors that have lasted for thousands of years. An intriguing look into Egyptian funerary art and burial customs can be had at the Valley of the Kings.

5. Abu Simbel Temples: Ramses II's Monumental Masterpieces: The Abu Simbel Temples are two enormous rock temples carved into the mountainside in the 13th century BCE by Pharaoh Ramses II. They are situated in southern Egypt, close to the Sudanese border. These temples were constructed in honour of the gods Amun, Ra-Horakhty, and Ptah, as well as to celebrate Ramses II's victory at the Battle of Kadesh. Four enormous statues, each measuring 20 meters, depict Ramses II sitting on his throne in the largest of the two temples. With its exquisite sculptures and intricate carvings, the smaller temple to Queen Nefertari, the spouse of Ramses, is just as remarkable. The temples' relocation in the 1960s to escape floods brought on by the building of the Aswan High Dam is an engineering marvel in and of itself. The breathtaking magnificence of these temples, as well as the extraordinary skill of the ancient Egyptian artisans who built them, are evident to visitors to Abu Simbel.

6. Hatshepsut Temple: Honoring Egypt's First Female Pharaoh: The magnificent funerary temple known as the Temple of Hatshepsut honours Queen Hatshepsut, one of the most prosperous and influential Pharaohs in Egyptian history. It is situated in Deir el-Bahari, close to Luxor. Senenmut, the architect for Hatshepsut, created the temple, which is carved out of the cliffs and has three terraces joined by lengthy ramps. The temple's beautiful proportions and seamless integration with the surrounding natural terrain make its design one of the most spectacular examples of ancient Egyptian architecture. Exquisite reliefs illustrating Hatshepsut's divine conception, her travels to the Land of Punt, and other noteworthy occasions during her reign adorn the temple's walls. The temple's numerous chapels and sanctuaries can be explored by guests to obtain understanding.

7. The Egyptian Museum: An Undiscovered Gem of Antiquated Antiquities: The Egyptian Museum in Cairo is a must-visit location for those interested in learning about the history and culture of ancient Egypt, even if it is not an actual ancient landmark. The museum is home to the largest collection of ancient Egyptian artifacts in the world, which includes some of Tutankhamun's most valuable possessions, such as his golden mask and jewellery. The museum was founded in 1902 and has around 120,000 artifacts from the Predynastic to the Greco-Roman periods, covering thousands of years of Egyptian history. Explore the expansive halls of the museum to see a wide range of artifacts that provide a full picture of ancient Egyptian society, including statues, mummies, sarcophagi, and numerous other remnants.

Conclusion

Exploring the must-visit historical landmarks in Ancient Egypt is an unforgettable journey into one of the world's most fascinating civilizations. From the majestic pyramids of Giza to the awe-inspiring temples of Abu Simbel, each site offers a unique insight into the grandeur and mysteries of ancient times. These landmarks are not only architectural marvels but also cultural treasures that have captivated historians, archaeologists, and travelers for centuries.

For those planning to experience these wonders firsthand, securing an Egypt visa is an essential step. If you're traveling from Dubai, obtaining an Egypt visa from Dubai is a straightforward process that allows you to immerse yourself in Egypt's rich history and culture. Whether you’re a history enthusiast or a curious traveler, visiting these ancient sites will leave you with memories of a lifetime, connecting you with the extraordinary legacy of ancient Egypt.

Also Check Out: 

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Jordan Visa

Ethiopia Visa

[cocktailsfairytales]

❕✨ 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐀𝐋 ✨❕

The cover for 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒔 𝑶𝒇 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏 (𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑉𝑜𝑤𝑠 𝐷𝑢𝑒𝑡 𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑘 #1 ) by @onyxrunawrites is HERE!!

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✨ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞: https://amzn.to/3RxYuWy

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▪️ 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁 ▪️

Icarus Vinci, the ruthless mafia ruler of the underworld, who bathes in cold blood and feeds on the fear. Yet, years ago, he vowed to offer me a glimpse of heaven amidst the savagery.

Now, he has returned to claim his promise.

He snatched me from the jaws of death, binding me to him by an unbreakable oath. He's a storm of ruthlessness and darkness, the unanimous lord of demons and shadows—a devil. But to him, I am both his ruined soul's obsession and his fractured heart's solace.

Our bond is a forbidden comfort, a dance between the sun and moon. He burns with an intensity devoted to me alone, his light igniting my existence. I, the moon, forever bathed in darkness, find myself reflecting his brilliance with a seductive glow.

Icarus has become my sun, the very reason I shine. He bestowed upon me the fire of his passion, making life worthwhile with his intoxicating dominion. And in the depths of his villainous love, he has gifted me an unexpected heaven – a love as dark and captivating as the man himself.

This is a love story born from the ashes of despair, a tale where darkness holds the promise of an enchanting Hades-like heaven.

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🩷 𝐉𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐦 @peachykeenas

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