#golden chains & crown of sand

[m1d-45]

dead leaves

summary: the creator is meant to be worshipped and praised, exalted to the highest of high. so… what went wrong?

word count: 1.2k

-> warnings: mentions of blood, you die multiple times, bitter(?) ending, spoilers for xiao lore (but it’s not said to be xiao specifically so technically you could read and just not know it’s him but now that i’ve said that you know it’s him so-)

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me

< masterlist > || next >

it wasn’t meant to happen like this.

it was never to occur at all, in fairness, but like this?

the clouds parted to make way for a single glitering star, shining a white hot gold. the whole world turned, stopped and stared in awe, every leaf on every stalk bearing witness to the one they called god.

it wasn’t supposed to be like this. the golden shine poured through the tall windows of a palace meant for you, the heretic in a crown ordering your people to betray you. their hands shook where their followers could not see—perhaps even they were aware of why the trees were rejoicing.

you, blessed you, torn from your home by the divinity in your blood, picking yourself up from sand with barely a vague memory of your location. walk, climb, walk again, and that’s where you learned how to swim, led on by the crumbling stone of barbatos’ statue. the squirrels chittered and the hilichurls retreated, not wanting to frighten you, bandaged hands seeking shields and clubs to keep busy instead.

mondstat is the nation of anemo. happy and bustling, merchants calling across courtyards, adventurers waking with the sun to continue their trade. a cool breeze welcomed you, tugging you along a stone bridge, the winds quiet.

so quiet, in fact, that the archon stirred from his slumber early, reaching for his bow.

you never even made it to the city gates. the doves on the bridge hopped closer as you approached, the knights on duty watching how eagerly they pressed themselves against you. a nod, a twist, a chain of knights leading up to the headquarters, all set on edge the moment the acting grandmaster cleared them to engage.

the first casualty was a bird. it had flung itself into the air, halting the arrow in its tracks, drawing your attention to the man standing atop the city wall. another bird died before you understood his crime.

leaves dappled the ground in shades of green, warm light falling on you as you ran. you didn’t know where you were going, really, and why would you? who had a contingency plan for when everyone they loved turned away? the river tumbled over smoothed rocks, the bright beacon of the statue of the seven pleading for forgiveness even as it’s archon wanted you dead.

mondstat was the city of freedom. could it still be called that when you bled out before you could reach the border?

you couldn’t die. literally, you couldn’t. ley lines converged where you were crossed, absorbing the dissipating flakes of your physical body. the earth hummed beneath the anemo archon’s feet as he watched divine blue blood be sucked up and swept away. was it a hallucination? how would he know?

elemental energy coursed through the earth, sprouting again at the geo through which it bled, releasing the holy light it carried and supplementing with its own. within the hour your eyes opened again, unsure whether to pray it was a dream or wonder which god could hear you.

liyue, nation of geo. the stone hummed beneath your feet, though you didn’t walk toward the city. you’d learned your lesson fast, and a spear to the gut would certainly take longer to kill than an arrow to the neck. not that it mattered, of course—the adepti are too in tune with the land to not have noticed your arrival.

as it turned out a spear does hurt more, which you learned when you found it sprouting from your stomach in the split second before the pain hit. bright jade stained blue, betrayal glimpsed in the dying eyes of the one alatus once called his savior.

and it began anew.

teyvat bubbled with anger, torn between enacting vengeance on those that hurt its maker and protecting you. you were taken to places of shelter, but people learned to follow where nature raged loudest. even if they didn’t, if storms kicked up in false alarm to draw them away, intuition toward their creator was sewn into the hems of every living creature. hilichurls could only hold up for so long, and the millelith were used to dealing with vishaps. the dense forests of sumeru were memorized by the most vigilant forest watcher, the consecrated beasts in the desert too big to keep up with the agility of the general mahamatra.

how cruel for you to die like this, at the hands of the ones you should have been able to trust. how cruel for you to die at all, stabbed in the back by those who should have worshipped you.

the one on your throne was tolerated, just barely so, rationalized as the people needing an idol to follow in your continued absence. but now you were here, now they had no reason to be, and visions began to go haywire whenever they entered the throne room. boars outran hunters, trees tangling over boots as nature wrought vengeance on behalf of its god.

you were everything.

every scholar sought to understood your world further, your spirit found in every star in the sky. to study the world was to study you, how every string was woven into the universe. when you looked to the earth the soil said hello, the trees bowing before their creator, and yet your most beloved artwork was the one that hated you the most. was it hubristic to think a mortal could truly kill a god, or pathetic that they believed the fraud so quickly? they didn’t have elemental energy buzzing at their fingertips, they didn’t have the respect of the world, only commanding people, those easily swayed by a similar face and lucky coincidences. they were nothing like you, you who held galaxies in your blood, you who created the sky and the seas and the creatures within, who created everything. who was everything.

…and now you were nothing. lost in the ley lines that frantically searched for a place to host your body, outrunning the hunt for the god of all. nothing, half conscious in the heart of the earth, within a cave that had cracked open for this very purpose. hidden, the entrance sealed by stone itself, only allowing in slimes that helped sustain you. how cruel, the skies wept, torrents of rain falling in punishment. the fraud barely left the palace anymore, which was only standing thanks to reinforcement from the geo archon. were it not for their lie, they would be dead a thousand times over, killed in every way you had.

but they were in the palace, hidden where the world could not reach. so stone cradled your body, carefully ensuring you still continued to breathe, leylines redirecting to offer energy. not awake, not asleep, stuck in a stasis while hell raged around you.

it’s alright. teyvat would have its revenge eventually. lightning would find its way into the palace, someone would bring something carrying elemental energy into the throne room, something. the fake would die and you would be born anew from the earth, weak and tired but alive, most importantly.

anemo brushes off dust that begins to settle in your clothes, hydro doing its best to soothe the cracks on your lips. geo rolls you over so you don’t bruise, dendro adjusting its net of vines to keep you stable.

eventually…

[wing-ed-thing]

Those Called Jinchūriki (Naruto x Jinchūriki!Reader x Gaara) Part I

Synopsis: There are only so many Jinchūriki to meet, and Naruto is outraged by your treatment. Unable to do much himself, Naruto enlists the help of Gaara to set you free and grant you sanctuary in the Hidden Sand.

Word Count: 2k

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, Jinchūriki!Reader, Slight Angst, Gaara isn't in this chapter

Notes: It's always been my personal hc that Naruto considers "jinchuriki" a slur. I'm pretty sure this is canon, but I haven't been able to track down manga evidence so don't fight me on this.

Considering how formal the event was, Naruto was eerily well-behaved. 

He had insisted on coming, and after making himself more of a nuisance than ever, Tsunade had placed him on the mission with one strict condition: don’t cause trouble. And so he sat, a mocktail in one hand and leg bouncing as he stared directly at the entrance at the top of the stairs. He didn’t hear Yamato notifying him that appetizers had been served, nor did he notice his new squad leader hovering over his shoulder, following his gaze up the carpeted steps. 

Naruto couldn’t wait to meet you.

You were the reason he had traveled all this way to your little land that hardly had a place on the map. You were why he had donned his finest clothes to attend this prestigious political gathering and waited patiently for your arrival. The moment he saw you, his eyes went wide.

The guards opened the ornate double doors with spears in hand as you emerged at the top of the grand staircase—elegant, layered fabrics draped over your shoulders, binding stiffly around your waist and neck. A golden chain littered with charms, ornaments, and sacred tags crowned your head, swooping adornments around the circumference of your skull. 

You stopped at the top of the grand stairwell. You held a stoic expression on your face, remaining only cordial as you took the skirt of your robes in your hands and bowed deeply. Naruto’s bright irises glittered at the sight of you. 

A holder of a tailed beast, dressed in fancy clothing and presented for all to see— Naruto’s chest ached with bitter happiness as he watched you live out his deepest dream and desire. He glanced toward the back of the room, where a decorated table sat waiting for you, elevated slightly taller on the ground where all could see you.

Like royalty.

A host of a tailed spirit, respected.

“Presenting… the Jinchūriki!” 

Naruto whooped and hollered, nearly jumping out of his seat in applause. But his praises were swiftly silenced as a roar of laughter and jeering erupted from the crowd on the room's lower level. Naruto’s forehead knitted, causing him to stop mid-clap. He swiveled in shock, scouring the room in search of answers as he sank back into his seat. He turned around, mouth agape, to make eye contact with Yamato, who only shrugged. Yamato looked about as confused as Naruto, his stare trained on you as his lips subtly contorted downward. 

The people swarmed you as you walked across the room to your table, faces smooshing around you as your indifferent guards put mediocre effort into keeping a walkway for you. Naruto couldn’t help but jump up from his seat, joining the nobles and political figures who crowded you. He jumped at the back of the mob, head bobbing over the sea of greased hair and overcomplicated updos. 

Naruto shouted your name, but the commotion drowned out his voice. 

You were never seen in public, after all.

You eventually reached a single table at the opposite end of the dining room. Naruto could see the top of your headpiece as he raced around the perimeter of the crowd. Little by little, the ornately decorated tablecloth appeared, matching the jewelry adorning you. You sat on the plush cushion, your guards finally able to keep the floor of people at least a few feet away from your table. 

People, but apparently not Naruto. 

You could only watch on in alarm as he slid between the legs of a nobleman, slipping on the hard tile floor as he scrambled between the guards and right up in front of you. He slammed his hands down, causing your silverware to rattle and you to jump. Your wide gaze darted around, searching for a guard to get this crazed madman away from you.

You stared, restraining your concerned expression as you wordlessly watched him. He huffed, catching his breath, even reaching across the elaborate table setting to help himself to your glass of water as he held out a hand. Not knowing what else to do, you offered him a cloth napkin. 

“Hiya! My name is Naruto Uzumaki, and wouldn’t ya believe it, but I’m also the host to the Nine-Tails and—”

Naruto stopped short, the sight of you stealing his words from his lips. It wasn’t the expensive jewels that littered your skin or the delicate fabrics, but the thick metal collar shacked around your neck. The weight of it left visible irritation on your skin from years of wear, bunching your robes and pinching at your collarbone. The cuffs were painted in ancient runes, spelling “Jinchūriki” exclusively and repeatedly. 

Naruto’s attention dropped to your hands, following the long stretch of chains from your neck to your bound wrists. The sleeves of your robes were folded up neatly to accommodate your bindings that held your hands less than a shoulder’s length apart. 

“What the hell?” he uttered, breathlessly horrified as Naruto’s baby blue irises flicked up to yours. Your eyes were about as wide as his. You placed a delicate touch on the table's edge, rising slightly from your seat. 

“Nine-Tails?” Your gaze explored him and darted frantically over his face and hands. You spoke lowly, almost in a whisper. Panicked concern painted your face. “Where are your bindings?”

He was torn away in an instant. 

It all happened in a moment, from the time Naruto introduced himself to you to the moment a guard grabbed him around the torso from behind in an attempt to wrestle him to the ground. Naruto kicked, struggling against the tight grip that pinned his arms.

“Wait—”

“Sit back down!” you were commanded. 

You shot back down in your seat without a second thought, spine erect. In the chaos, Naruto’s team rushed around in the background, trying to intercept the commotion, but too many people had crammed together. Naruto elbowed the guard in the face, thrashing his arms to break away and make a mad dash back toward you. 

His team members came in from the sides, engaging with the guards and attendees alike as they tried to avoid a violent confrontation. Yamato placed himself between the crowd and Naruto, arms and flat palms held out in front of his body. His assertive pleas for everyone to take a second were disregarded. 

Naruto’s hand wrapped around the link between your cuffs, tugging your longer chain as he held your bound hands up. You flinched, jerking your hands back, but his grip was too firm. The movement caused your eyes to twitch shut as you turned your head. You had little idea what was happening, let alone catch the rage simmering on Naruto’s expression.

“What the hell is this?” His shout cut through the commotion, bringing the entire hall to silence. You spotted orange from where you flinched, your head nestled between your arms. Your face slowly rose to catch a glimpse of black and orange markings etched across Naruto’s cheeks. He held up your bound hands again. The crowd backed up. The guards had broken from their confrontations with Naruto’s team to protect the gathering of elites with spears pointing forward. A strangled growl tore from Naruto’s throat as he repeated himself, “What the hell is this?”

Naruto’s grip closed around your cuffs, the tips of his rapidly sharpening fingernails causing tension in the metal. The entire room looked upon him in terror as you all watched his fox-like trains bubble to the surface. Even as tears gathered in your waterline, you waited motionlessly, watching like a cornered animal.

“Is this how the Land of Paper treats its sacred spirits?” He dropped your chains and stormed forward, causing the crowd to retreat with horrified gasps. The guards moved to confront him before Yamato swooped forward to forcibly hold Naruto back by the torso.

“Naruto, stop—” he hissed.

“How dare you!” One of the guard’s noses contorted into a foul, disgusted wrinkle. The rest of them came to surround the Hidden Leaf representatives. His lip curled as he held up his weapon. “And how dare the Hidden Leaf lack enough decency to bring a feral Jinchūriki to this gathering!”

“Don’t call me that!” 

“Naruto!” Naruto jerked forward in Yamato’s grip. He lowered his center of gravity, just barely able to restrain him. You sat face down on the table, the ornaments on your hair pointed outward like defensive horns, covering the back of your head with your arms. Your chains hung over it all, anchoring you to the room’s disturbance.

The guard turned to Sakura, who happened to be the closest, with a snarl. 

“Take your Jinchūriki pet and leave. You Leaf Shinobi are no longer welcome here.”

“Please, we have no malicious intent—” 

“Out!” The soldiers moved closer with their pointed spears.

“Go to hell!” Naruto yelled as Yamato tried his best to wrestle him away. You barely rose from your cowering position, but Naruto managed to meet your eye. He pointed directly toward you. “I’ll come back to save you! Don’t you worry!” 

The rest of the team followed, having no choice but to abandon their mission in disgrace.

The commotion ended as soon as it started. A few servants swooped in to clear away spilled beverages, and the hosts resorted quickly to damage control.

“What excitement!” one of them laughed nervously over the gather. The rest were easily convinced to laugh along. Uncertainly dizzied your head as you wondered what just happened.

***

“What the hell, Naruto?” Yamato shoved Naruto’s shoulder up against a wall at the back entrance. Naruto’s head bowed, unreadable, as Yamato held his shoulder pinned. The Jōnin was quietly seething himself.

With the Akatsuki slowly making their way across the country collecting tailed beasts, it was integral to make contact with the Land of Paper. While most tailed beasts made homes in large, established shinobi villages— or entirely off the grid in solitude— the Land of Paper continued a long tradition of keeping their tailed spirit for strictly spiritual and ornamental purposes. Compared to the Bijuu cultivated for wartime, Yamato had been informed that you hardly stepped outside your secluded temple, making you a prime target for the Akatsuki. 

They needed to talk to the important people gathered in that dining room, but now all that was squandered.

“I understand you’re angry—” Yamato resigned with a heavy sigh. He turned to rub his hands over his face, letting Naruto crumble to the ground. Yamato took a sharp intake, fist pressed against his lips. —“But that was not helpful, Naruto. We needed to get on the good side of a lot of people in that room. I don’t know what you were thinking—”

A single sniffle cut off Yamato’s rant.

Then another.

“I’m sorry, Captain Yamato.” Naruto’s voice was small. He curled in on himself, fingers weaving through his messy blond hair. Yamato stood in front of him silently. The rest of the team held their tongues, giving Naruto and Yamato their space as Sakura tugged Sai away. Naruto’s body jerked with his sobs, tears falling into his folded lap. “I’m sorry.” 

Yamato’s expression melted at the sight of him, and with another deep sigh, he knelt down to Naruto’s level.

“I was angry too,” he admitted, one wrist resting on his bent knee. “I didn’t know they treated Jinchūriki like that. If I had known—”

“Don’t use that word.” 

Yamato paused, staring deeply into the top of Naruto’s head. He studied his unmoving form, a soft concern in his dark eyes. Yamato placed a gentle touch on Naruto’s arm. 

“What word, Naruto?” It took a moment before he answered, his voice muffled as Naruto spoke into his knees. Yamato sat fully on the ground, repeating Naruto’s name softly and assertively. He leaned forward on his knees. “What word shouldn’t I use?”

“Don’t call us Jinchūriki.” Naruto sniffled. “Please.”

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: You know, it's here, it's cheesy. The direction of this kinda reminds me of the style of early 2010s fanfic? Does that make sense to anyone else?

[chasingthedragons]

Wedding gowns in the Seven Kingdoms

Lady Alicent Hightower with King Viserys I Targaryen

The future Queen wore a magnificent but simple bright white gown printed with the crest of House Targaryen, with a golden V-shaped embroidery in the center, two winged dragons crowning the shoulders with a pair of open wings. The sleeves, open at the elbows and as long as the skirt, are shagged in a red with a gold and dark red quadrille pattern. An ostentatious gold necklace, gold and pearl earrings, and a splendid crown of gold, pearl and rubies.

Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen with Ser Laenor Velaryon

For the opening banquet of the celebration, the Princess wore a beautiful white dress with a pattern of scales, gold embroidery and inlaid with rubies at the neckline, with a small gold braided brooch, and the belt, which is attached with a gold brooch with two dragons and a gold chain, equal to the eight that hang on each side of the arms of the princess. Rings, bracelets and earrings of gold and rubies, a grand necklace of gold and rubies, rubies crowning her hairstyle, a hair brooch of gold, pearls and rubies and a piece of carved gold for her braid.

In addition we can see her maiden cloak, black and with the emblem of House Targaryen in red on one side and blue with the emblem of House Velaryon on the other. Golden lapels and shoulder boards.

Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen with Prince Daemon Targaryen

On the coast of Dragonstone and according to Valyrian tradition, she wore a sand-colored suit with red gradient on sleeves, skirt and shoulders, with a red garment under it. A belt of the same color as the dress and neckline. Crowned with a black headdress decorated in the same color as the dress.

Lady Lyanna Stark and Prince Rhaegar Targaryen

Lady Lyanna was married in a secret ceremony wearing a gown of light ice-green, sleeveless fabric and silver and gold leaf ornaments, like a belt, at the neckline and going up from her waist, past her neck. Because of the haste and secrecy of their betrothal, there was no maiden's cloak.

Princess Daenerys Targaryen with Khal Drogo

At her wedding, the Princess wore a simple pale lilac dress with straps, bracelets of which matching fabrics gave the impression of sleeves, silver metallic details matching the color of her dress, on her neckline and sleeves, also holding and styling her hair.

Lady Talisa Maugyr with King Robb Stark

Lady Talisa was married in a secret ceremony during the war, in a forest near the camps of King Robb's forces. So she wore the same dress she wore every day, a simple model in gray tones and a cloak in earth tones.

Lady Roslyn Frey with Lord Edmure Tully

The young Frey girl wore at her wedding to Lord Edmure a lovely green dress with flower print over a simple white dress. Long and wide sleeves and small embroidered details on the neckline. Over the dress she wore a delicate white cape woven with flowers.

Her maiden's cloak, white and earthy with intricate prints and embroidery, and a pattern of branches and leaves all around the edge, in very similar tones to the rest of her costume.

Lady Sansa Stark with Tyrion Lannister

For her wedding in the Sept of Baelor Lady Sansa wore a gown of a shimmering purple fabric with a golden floral pattern and a cross embroidery of golden lions and wolves. Metallic ornaments on her hips and a necklace with the emblem of House Lannister.

Her maiden's cloak, of red velvet with gold collar and sleeves with the lion of House Lannister in red on them.

Lady Sansa Stark with Ramsey Bolton

In the godswood of Winterfell she wore a shiny silver dress with a delicate pattern of slightly brighter lines. Over it, a short-sleeved coat of thick white velvety fabric with a braided pattern and a pair of silver brooches in the center. Covering each shoulder, a pair of white furs.

Lady Margaery Tyrell with King Joffrey Baratheon

For the most ostentatious wedding of the era, the future Queen wore an ice blue dress with an open back and matching blue rose embroidery leading to a rose-covered train. A silver necklace and a beautiful gold and silver plated crown with the antlers of House Baratheon and the roses of House Tyrell.

Her maiden's cloak, white with gold embroidery of lions and red borders, the same that Queen Cersei Lannister wore at her wedding to King Robert Baratheon.

Queen Margaery Tyrell with King Tommen Baratheon

In her second nuptials, in a much simpler ceremony, Queen Margaery wore a beautiful copper-colored dress with gold prints, sleeveless and deep neckline, plus a beautiful and ostentatious necklace that follows the shape of the neckline, crowned with the same crown she used in her wedding to King Joffrey Baratheon.

Her maiden's cloak, white, gold and red, matching the colors of her dress. The colors of House Lannister.

Lady Lysa Arryn with Lord Petyr Baelich

For her hasty wedding to Lord Baelich, Lady Lysa seemed to have her dress already prepared. She wore a light blue dress with sand-colored prints, a bust of the same color and ornaments of birds under the bust and neck from where a cape of the same fabric of the dress is born. She did not use a maiden's cloak because the ceremony was private and very simple.

[sculptorofcrimson]

The first to fall

A distracted poem about Custodes, Valdor and the Emperor. :)

~~~~~

The first snowfall after you,

I thought it would never end

I remember the rock, the first time

It was black, like oil

The wind, it howled

Blasphemies, treacheries, it promised that I would be free

(We chose this death)

(We needed no promises)

It burned alive

Louder than death

The first snowfall after you,

I thought it would never end

The first Throne before you

We thought it would never end

We thought you’d never die, 

never fall, never lose 

And our duty would never end

The snow melts before your golden gaze,

and I linger in that embrace.

King, always

Master, now

Emperor, may You reign forever

The sun caresses your hair

(It does not dare displease you)

I remember the snows, my lord

It was pale, like bone

It was pale, like the strangled storm,

When we betrayed them, butchered them, 

Crushed them beneath the bones

Of the mountain

(We did not dare displease you)

For you, my lord

For you, the laurels of the slaughter

Just to see your face

The sunlight

It drapes itself, it dances in your dreams

Your shadow eclipsed the moon

It bathed with beauty in the red sands of Mars

And became the sky

It slept with the stars themselves

The first snowfall after you,

I thought it would never end

The first mourning after you

I wanted it to never begin

I carried you home after your vengeance

I can't forget how you bled

We can’t forget,

Holding your corpse

Your bones

In our conjoined arms

(I was your son, my lord.)

(I built your fortress.)

(You treated us like cattle.)

It's warmer than our souls

It’s purer than our knives

Forget the cold

Forget the frost

Forget the gold of your tomb

Do kings love?

Do you love us, our lord?

We obeyed,

I obeyed

The last order

You gave me

I ran

(I died for you, my king)

Ra

A fool

A sacrifice

A love, you lost, my lord

Are we not master and slave?

Heavy is the head that bears the laurel

Glorious is the hand that holds the chain

The first snow after you

Walking the steps alone, my brothers abandoned, 

My spear forgotten, 

my armors, symbols of office cast aside

I thought it would never end

Crowned myself a crown in yellow

(For you to reign, my lord)

Crushed the storm, beneath gold and knives

(For you to reign, my lord)

Valdor

The loyal dog

Keeper, captain, guardian, slave

To bring down the sun

(To protect you from its warmth)

To stem your blood with our hearts

To steal away the sea

(To protect you from its salt)

To burn us, to stave off the cold

Emperor. King. God. Sorcerer. Warrior. 

Master. 

Our lord

Our god

King of the storm

(Executioner of the thunder)

King of the sun

(Scoured the night before His gaze)

The first night after you,

I thought it would never end

In a hundred thousand years

We will be dust

And you will be king

[edwinspaynes]

Hello!

Welcome to my TSC blog, a place where I cause shenanigans and (mainly) post fanfiction! I mainly write about Thomastair, Wessa, Jordelia and my much-beloved Matthew Fairchild because that's where my interests largely lie.

My fics, published as thegirlofthorns on Ao3:

Alastair/Thomas

Dreamscapes on the Wall (multichapter, complete)

The Golden Age of Something Good & Right & Real (multichapter, complete)

A Ribbon of Dream (multichapter, complete)

Flying in a Dream, Stars by the Pocketful (Christmas multichapter, complete)

The Rest of My Life With Him (one-shot)

A Dazzling Haze, A Mysterious Way About You (one-shot)

The Diaries of Sir Thomas Lightwood, Age Fourteen (one-shot)

Part-Time Soulmate, Full-Time Problem (one-shot)

Passed Down Like Folk Songs (The Love Lasts So Long) (one-shot)

I'm a Fire and I'll Keep Your Brittle Heart Warm (18+, one-shot)

Moonlight Sonata and I (gift for @luciehercndale)

Days Future: Paris, 1912 (one-shot)

all of you, all of me (intertwined) (gift for @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer)

The Stars Are Aligned (So Save That Heart for Me) (one-shot reincarnation AU)

I Had the Best Day (With You, Today) (Thomastair & Gracetopher, oneshot)

The Surprise (one-shot)

Baby You Got Lucky 'Cause You're Rockin' With the Best (18+, one-shot)

The Crown You Never Take Off (one-shot gift for @thevagabondexpress)

Twenty Minutes (18+, one-shot)

like a candle you burnt out (one-shot)

Kaleidoscope of Loud Heartbeats Under Coats (one-shot)

Connecting the Tide to the Sand That Was Dry (one-shot gift for @vwritesaus)

The Together, We'll Learn to Breathe Series (about Thomas and Alastair healing together) // can be read in any order

A Therapeutic Chain of Events (multichapter, complete)

You Drew Stars Around My Scars (one-shot)

a dwindling mercurial high (multichapter, complete, past Charles/Alastair)

Closets of Backlogged Dreams (multichapter, on hiatus)

Bloodsucker, Famefucker (one-shot)

Every Tear's a Rain Parade From Hell (one-shot)

Will/Tessa

When Our Eyes Meet, Darling, I Fancy You (multichapter, complete)

The Howling Wind (18+, one-shot)

Have I Known You Twenty Seconds or Twenty Years? (one-shot)

A Tale of a Great Behemoth (one-shot)

Leaves, Cider Donuts, and William Herondale (one-shot)

This Life Is Sweeter Than Fiction (one-shot college AU)

my hips & thighs & my whispered sighs (oh lord) (18+, one-shot)

'Sentimental Boy' Is My Nom de Plume (one-shot)

Christmas on the Balcony (18+, one-shot)

Matthew

The Name We Give Our Mistakes -> Character study (multichapter, complete)

Summer Went Away (Still the Yearning Stays) -> Matthew + family (multichapter, complete)

The Cheap Severity of Abstract Ethics -> Matthew & Alastair + Thomas/Alastair (multichapter, complete)

Forces & Flowers -> Matthew & Anna (one-shot)

This Beautiful Beast -> Matthew & Oscar feat. Thomas/Alastair + Kit (one-shot)

across our great divide, there is a glorious sunrise -> Character study (one-shot)

A Combination of Shock and Awe -> Matthew & Charles feat. Will (one-shot)

The Importance of Being... -> Matthew + Thomas/Alastair

The Matthew and Alastair: Burying the Hatchet series (about Matthew and Alastair having important conversations shortly after ChoT) // can be read in any order

Prices and Vices (I End Up in Crisis) -> Matthew & Alastair (one-shot)

Your Flower's Filled With Vitriol -> Matthew & Alastair (one-shot)

In the Gutter, Looking at the Stars -> Matthew & Alastair (one-shot)

The Matthew Fairchild: An Expert in Romantics Series // can be read in any order

Life is Not Complex (We Are Complex) -> Matthew + Eugenia/OC feat. Thomas/Alastair (one-shot)

For One Moment, Our Lives Met (Our Souls Touched) -> Matthew, Magnus, + Ragnor/Catarina (gift for @themimsyborogove

Fashion is Ephemeral (Art Is Eternal) -> Matthew + Thomas/Alastair (one-shot)

The Moon in Her Chariot of Pearl -> Matthew + Will/Tessa (one-shot)

A Little Sincerity (A Dangerous Thing) -> Matthew + Risa/OC feat. Alastair

James/Cordelia

It's a Love Story (Baby, Just Say Yes) (one-shot)

I Can See You (Up Against a Wall With Me) (one-shot gift for @furoruisa)

Privacy Sign on the Whole World (one-shot)

Other

Taffy Stuck & Tongue Tied -> Grace & Alastair (one-shot)

Empty Bottles, Heavy Hearts, the Memories of Broken Dreams -> Thomas character study (one-shot)

I Never Said That (I Love You) -> Catarina/Ragnor (one-shot)

Blazed Glory -> TLH ensemble shenanigans (one-shot)

the nature of love -> a poem (one-shot)

Carol of the Bells: A Winter-Themed Drabble Collection

You also will likely find a lot of Taylor Swift content here. I also post sometimes about KJ Charles' books, especially the Charm of Magpies series. Our Flag Means Death, How I Met Your Mother, The Office, Never Have I Ever, Good Omens, and Crazy Ex Girlfriend will also pop up frequently.

Thanks for reading! If you like my fics and want to support me, do consider getting me a Ko-Fi. Literally no pressure, I write for fun, but it'd be cool!

[arofili]

@tolkienofcolourweek day one | family ● connection to lands and waters | the lindai and their children

         They watch the children carefully, but quietly. They remember too well how easy it was for children to vanish, to slip away, to fall and not get up. They mourn those left behind in Hendor, lost Eluë and those who would not leave for love of him, but their love they have given to the sea and the lands of Aman.          They are safe here, in Aman, safe—when a child goes missing in Alpalondë, Uinen and her maidens ensure their return, or else they all band together to find them where they hide. No one has died here, in Alpalondë. No one ever shall.           Still, they watch. It brings comfort and joy to see the children playing in the waves, shrieking with delight, princes and commonfolk mingling as they had at the shores of Cuiviénen. There is Arátiel Eärwen, herself nearly grown, standing with her arms crossed as she observes her little brothers splashing each other’s faces. There are Gilfanon’s boys, swimming mostly-unseen, ready to ambush the princes with seaweed in their hands. There is little Ethlon, wise beyond his years, collecting seashells to bring home to his mother.          There are all the children of Alpalondë, the hope of the Lindai, the future of all Eldalië.

[image description: 4 images arranged in 2 rows of 2. the first is a moodboard of 9 images. 1: a brown-skinned person with long dark hair and brown eyes, wearing a golden seashell crown. 2: gold-coated seashells. 3: the head of a person with dark brown skin and fluffy white hair. 4: partially cut-off picture of a calm ocean shore. 5: a person with dark brown skin and long silver hair pulled up in an elaborate bun with swirl braid patterns close to their scalp; their hands are cradling their face, and they are wearing rose gold jewelry. 6: the sun setting over an ocean wave. 7: the same person from the first image, now viewed from the shoulders down, wearing a white dress and standing in the ocean surf. 8: a person with light brown skin, brown eyes, and curly brown hair staring to the left with a slight smile. 9: two seashells in shallow water. the second is the back of a person with light olive skin wearing many chains of pearls over their shoulders. the image is captioned “Falmari” with the subtitle “people of the waves.” above is a selection of four colors from the image, ranging from dark gray to various shades of brown. the third is the silhouettes of two children running into a calm ocean surf amid a dark orange sunset sky. the image is captioned “Lindai” with the subtitle “the singers.” below is a selection of four colors from the image, ranging from yellow to various shades of orange and brown. the fourth is a moodboard of 9 images. 1: the bare back of a person with warm brown skin and long silver hair tied into a ponytail. 2: a person with light brown skin, brown eyes, and curly brown hair staring to the right with a slight smile. 3: several colorful seashells in wet sand. 4: a calm ocean surf. 5: several brown-skinned hands reaching upward and leaning against each other. 6: an East Asian person with light skin, dark eyes, and long white-blond hair looking forward with a slightly open mouth. 7: a person with warm brown skin, dark eyes, and long silver hair looking over their shoulder with a slightly open mouth. 8: a brown-skinned person with dark hair, viewed from the nose up, wearing glitter across their nose and beneath their eyes and a crown of seashells. 9: close-up of the leg of a person wearing a cream-colored outfit with leafy embroidery patterns; they are holding onto their clothes with a dark-skinned hand. end image description.]

[drinkerofsoma]

"The Rock of Doom", Edward Burne-Jones (1888) left "The Doom Fulfilled", Edward Burne-Jones (1888) right It doesn’t take long for one to notice that the depiction of tragic females was a fairly common subject in the Pre-Raphaelite Movement [1]. Present here in the above works of Burne-Jones is the pitiable Andromeda, born of royal blood, she was the daughter of the Aethiopian King Cepheus and his consort Cassiopeia. It is said that in age’s past, her mother had once boasted about Andromeda’s beauty, suggesting it be one that surpassed that of the Nereids. Such a claim was an offense to both their father Nereus and their lord Poseidon, prompting the divinity to unleash the serpentine foe, Cetus, unto the kingdom’s shores. With this tragedy befalling upon his lands, the king sought the advice of an oracle, only to receive an answer quite grave. In order to quell the rage of the Gods and rid themselves of the menacing beast, his daughter had to be sacrificed! As it was his duty, Cepheus put the safety of his kingdom first and thus offered young Andromeda to be consumed by Cetus.

Chained to a rock at the edge of the shore, awaiting her doom, the gallant Perseus chances upon the maiden:

"Now hovering there, he seemed to hear a sound Unlike the sea-bird's cry, and looking round, He saw a figure standing motionless Beneath the cliff, midway 'twixt ness and ness, And as the wind lull'd heard that cry again, That sounded like the wail of one in pain; Wondering thereat, and seeking marvels new He lighted down, and toward the place he drew, And made invisible by Pallas' aid, He came within the scarped cliff's purple shade, And found a woman standing lonely there, Naked, except for tresses of her hair That o'er her white limbs by the breeze were wound, And brazen chains her weary arms that bound Unto the sea-beat overhanging rock, As though her golden-crowned head to mock. But nigh her feet upon the sand there lay Rich raiment that had covered her that day, Worthy to be the ransom of a king, Unworthy round such loveliness to cling. . . . Then unseen Perseus stole anigh the maid, And love upon his heart a soft hand laid, And tender pity rent it for her pain; Not yet an eager cry could he refrain, As now, transformed by that piteous sight, Grown like unto a God for pride and might, Down on the sand the mystic cap he cast And stood before her with flushed face at last, And grey eyes glittering with his great desire Beneath his hair, that like a harmless fire Blown by the wind shone in her hopeless eyes. But she, all rigid with her first surprise, Ceasing her wailing as she heard his cry, Stared at him, dumb with fear and misery, Shrunk closer yet unto the rocky place And writhed her bound hands as to hide her face; But sudden love his heart did so constrain, With open mouth he strove to speak in vain And from his heart the hot tears 'gan to rise; But she midst fear beheld his kind grey eyes, and then, as hope came glimmering through her dread, In a weak voice he scare could hearm she said," O Death! If though hast risen from the sea, Sent by the gods to end this misery, I thank them that thou comest in this form, Who rather thought to see a hideous worm Come trailing up the sands from out the deep." — "The Doom of King Acrisius," I. 269-70

Smitten, the virile hero approaches Cepheus and Cassiopeia for their daughter’s hand in exchange for slaying the vile beast, before venturing forth to conquer it: "He beheld the sea, And saw a huge wave rising mightily Above the smaller breakers of the shore, Which in its green breast for a minute bore A nameless horror, that it cast aland And left, a huge mass on the oozing sand, That scarcely seemed a living thing to be, Until at last those twain it seemed to see, And gathering up its strange limbs, towards them passed. And therewithal a dismal trumpet-blast Rang from the tower, and from the distant town The wind in answer brought loud wails adown. Then Perseus gently put the maid from him, Who sank down shivering in her every limb, Silent despite herself for fear and woe, As down the beach he ran to meet the foe. But he, beholding Jove's son drawing near, A great black fold against him did uprear, Maned with grey tufts of hair, as some old tree Hung round with moss, in lands where vapours be; From his bare skull his red eyes glowed like flame And from his open mouth a sound there came, Strident and hideous, that still louder grew As that rare sight of one in arms he knew: But godlike, fearless, burning with desire, The adamant jaws and lidless eyes of fire Did Perseus mock, and lightly leapt aside As forward did the torture-chamber glide Of his huge head, and ere the beast could turn, One moment bright did blue-edged Herpe burn, The next was quenched in the black flow of blood; Then in confused folds the hero stood, His bright face shadowed by the jaws of death, His hair blown backward by the poisonous breath; But all that passed, like lightning-lighted street In the dark night, as the blue blade did meet The wrinkled neck, and with no faltering stroke, Like a God's hand the fell enchantment broke, And then again in place of crash and roar, He heard the shallow breakers on the shore, And o'er his head the sea-gull's plaintive cry, Careless as Gods for who might live or die." — "The Doom of King Acrisius" I. 274-75 With the death of the serpent, the twain finally became one. Many a child born of their union, ultimately bearing a lineage that begets the great Heracles himself! Notes: [1]: Not always were these woman mythological figures, see Rossetti’s unfinished piece “Found” (1859). 

Links to text: The Doom of King Acrisius: http://www.victorianweb.org/authors/morris/poems/doom.html

Metamorphoses (the original source material): https://ovid.lib.virginia.edu/trans/Ovhome.htm#askline "See how the creature comes parting the waves, with surging breast, like a fast ship, with pointed prow, ploughing the water, driven by the sweat-covered muscles of her crew. It was as far from the rock as a Balearic sling can send a lead shot through the air, when suddenly the young hero, pushing his feet hard against the earth, shot high among the clouds. When the shadow of a man appeared on the water' surface, the creature raged against the shadow it had seen. As Jupiter's eagle, when it sees a snake, in an open field, showing its livid body to the sun, takes it from behind, and fixes its eager talons in the scaly neck, lest it twists back its cruel fangs, so the descendant of Inachus hurling himself headlong, in swift flight, through empty space, attacked the creature's back, and, as it roared, buried his sword, to the end of the curved blade, in the right side of its neck. Hurt by the deep wound, now it reared high in the air, now it dived underwater, or turned now, like a fierce wild boar, when the dogs scare him, and the pack is baying around him. Perseus evades the eager jaws on swift wings, and strikes with his curved sword wherever the monster is exposed, now at the back encrusted with barnacles, now at the sides of the body, now where the tail is slenderest, ending fishlike. The beast vomits seawater mixed with purplish blood. The pinions grow heavy, soaked with spray. Not daring to trust his drenched wings any further, he sees a rock whose highest point stands above quiet water, hidden by rough seas. Resting there, and holding on to the topmost pinnacle with his left hand, he drives his sword in three or four times, repeatedly. The shores, and the high places of the gods, fill with the clamor of applause. Cassiope and Cepheus rejoice, and greet their son-in-law, acknowledging him as the pillar of their house, and their deliverer. Released from her chains, the girl comes forward, the prize and the cause of his efforts. He washes his hands, after the victory, in seawater drawn for him, and, so that Medusa's head, covered with its snakes, is not bruised by the harsh sand, he makes the ground soft with leaves, and spreads out plants from below the waves, and places the head of that daughter of Phorcyson them. The fresh plants, still living inside, and absorbent, respond to the influence of the Gorgon's head, and harden at its touch, acquiring a new rigidity in branches and fronds. And the ocean nymphs try out this wonder on more plants, and are delighted that the same thing happens at its touch, and repeat it by scattering the seeds from the plants through the waves. Even now corals have the same nature, hardening at a touch of air, and what was alive, under the water, above water is turned to stone." — Metamorphosis 4.706-752 For more information on Burne-Jones himself, here is a fantastic documentary: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cmO3ZO9TGgA&feature=youtu.be

[royalreef]

@pluviacuratio​ inquired: The water elemental knew this was potentially dangerous. A heated situation with the Merkingdom's princess had the potential to turn dicey, but... here she was. Warm lips pressed to Miranda's neck, trailing along the skin she found. There were brief flashes of teeth, not enough to mark, but enough to certainly be felt.

        It was less skin and more scales to be found there, plated over Miranda’s neck like armor. There was enough neck there to need a distinction between all the parts of it — as it was, Bella’s lips had found the latter half of Miranda’s neck, close to her low-slung shoulders that wrapped around her sides instead of over her back, and where the huge muscles that supported her neck and her head connected back to a hunch of neural spines at the front of her torso.

       Here, the scales were indistinguishable from any other across her body, though that hardly seemed unique, even as she might glance upwards.

       They were thick, heavy, tough enough to resist even harder and more insistent presses of tooth and fang. There was some deeper anchor inside of her skin and even below it that could be felt with every tiny move, keeping her scales tight to her body and resisting even slight urges to shift and move them against the bulge of muscle.

       There was a strange softness to touching her, to pressing up against Miranda’s rose salt scales, granular and yet interlocking, but it wasn’t contained within the scales themselves, with their cuticles and keratinous layers, fine enough to produce a faint iridescent sheen so close to her. Rather, it was the smoothness of those scales, the way they knit together so perfectly, one shape molding into the other — and the tender meat beneath, the flesh soft and supple and an easy cushion when her muscles did not tense and they became hard and impenetrable.

        Somewhere above, she would be able to feel the interruption provided by the top of Miranda’s spine, a singular line of bony rigor that if Bella had pressed her fingers against, she would have been able to feel the crown of Miranda’s vertebrae. Somewhere below, Bella would feel the gentle ebb and flow of Miranda’s breath through her throat, flexing against the fine biological machinery, a strange sign of life within the constructed weapon of death. It was hard not to think of the prow of a boat, some wooden monstrosity struck out against unbridled nature, and made to cut through the roughest of storms or the most powerful of currents as just another creation of that vast, deep blue.

        These glimpses of intimacy were only ever broken by the chains of Miranda’s necklaces, fine golden things with interlocking rings too delicate compared to the plate mail beneath them, and by the hem of her clothes, pulling in the rosy-hued horizon like the white sand of a beach vanishing beneath a riptide.

        When Miranda churred, a sound at once like that of some domestic feline and innocent, and yet so much like their wilder counterparts that stalked the night as glimpses of death incarnate, Bella would be able to feel it. At the bottom of Miranda’s neck, she was right up against the upper half of the great organ that produced all of Miranda’s sounds and songs, with how it continued up her throat for a part ways and continued down and into her ribcage itself to tether itself around the rungs of ivory it found there. It produced a vibration against her lips, against her fingerprints, ringing in her own throat as well. A large sound, for an even larger instrument.

       She tasted like saltwater. Like brine, like a tidepool and the things that curl up inside of it. It would have been enough to sting at cuts, and to drag under some weaker-willed prey, already lost to the sea spray.

       Her lower jaw dropped slowly, fault line of her open mouth opening wider inch by inch, revealing the glistening peaks of her bottom teeth, the tips of her upper fangs still concealed by lax lips. Roiling between those ivory crests, in the cradle created by the valley of her jaw, shifted and moved her forked tongue in time with her breaths, uneasy in its bed.

       Miranda’s eyes were looking back at Bella, suddenly alien. It wasn’t that they didn’t hold any expression within their grasp, but what they did hold was abruptly unreadable, as much as the folly of trying to read the moods of the ocean itself. Her pupils were steady, gripping Bella in her vision, thin as a knife’s edge against the shock of electric blue, so stark and different to the pinks and reds and soft yellows that surrounded her eyes. Miranda’s lack of any whites to her eyes suddenly became discomforting, unpredictable, a reminder of how wide of a gulf there was between her and any other, anything other.

        “And what is this for?” When she speaks, her voice lulls, melody slipping in between the cracks and puddling around the feet of her vowels with the persistent drip of diamond rainwater. It makes her words go strange, a little harder to read — as her accent rises up, evidence of her life spent apart. “Surely you did not plan to settle with a kiss?”

[millenniumgod]

He was a child.

He was a boy who saw his entire family murdered. All of his friends, killed. His village, slaughtered. Ninety-nine deaths.

Ninety-nine bodies butchered, sacrificed to create a handful of golden artifacts.

The blood of his village clung to the hands of the Pharaoh Akhenamkhamen and his advisor. It dripped and trailed and kept flowing - until finally, Akhenamkhamen died. But that wasn’t enough. He never paid the price for those bodies, for that blood.

And so the debt was passed on with his title.

Pharaoh Atem, next in line. A shame that the child hadn’t the slightest idea what had transpired, but it did not absolve him of his family’s crimes. His dearest father had culled Kul Elna because it was a village of thieves, but murder... Well, that’s a whole new league of sin. A kingdom would only just begin to cover the damages.

Bakura was a boy who held on to his family’s memory when the world would not. It would fuel him for years - he would chase justice until his legs would no longer carry him. He became a man in chains, plotting to acquire that which he so rightly deserved.

He wore his own crown, his makeshift throne upon ninety-nine skeletons left to erode amongst the sand. In the wreckage of slaughter, he would build his own empire. He would create his own freedom, seek to administer his own equitable punishment.

He became the King of Thieves.

And he would take everything from those that had taken it from him. If that meant plunging the world into darkness, so be it. To take vengeance for such an evil act, he was more than willing to embrace evil himself - to sacrifice himself to bring about the end of the world. Sadly, this would not work out in his favor.

But even death would not stop him. He would try again.

[lagotu]

sun poems

thinking of a new old light tag

something like

#you can see caligula who dons the broken pillow and a lightbulb black when not shining dull white

except it needs to sound more poetic

#caligula, in front of your eyes / shining out of a light bulb, black / under your will, blinding eyes flare / and only meaning chains with lack

her armor caliginous of troll make /

in light it tarnished to morning mist /

but to us still, we weren't to break /

louping through the twirling blade

Morning and evening,

Children heard the moths cry:

"Come buy our golden fruits,

Come buy, come buy:

Apples and quinces,

Longans and oranges,

Plump unpeck'd cherries,

Melons and mangoes,

Fur-dress'd sheep peaches,

Swart-headed papayas,

Wild free-born starfruit,

Wood-melons, raspberries,

Canta-loupes, pomelos,

Apricots, yolkberries;—

All ripe together

In summer weather,—

Morns that pass by,

Fair eves that fly;

Come by, come buy:

Our grapes fresh from the vine,

Wintermelon full and fine,

Dates and sharp wampees,

Sand pears and goldgages,

Loquats and tangerines,

Taste them and try:

Bright-fire-like barberries,

Figs to fill your mouth,

Guavas from the South,

Sweet to tongue and sound to eye;

Come buy, come buy."

Backwards up the mossy trough

Turn'd and troop'd the feathered moths,

With their shrill repeated cry,

"Come buy, come buy."

When they reach'd where nothing was

They stood stock still upon the moss,

Leering at each other,

Sibling with queer sibling;

Signalling each other,

Sibling with sly sibling.

One set its basket down,

One rear'd their plate;

One began to weave a crown

Of tendrils, leaves, and rough nuts brown

(Moth sell not such in any town);

One heav'd the golden weight

Of dish and fruit to offer their:

"Come buy, come buy," was still their cry.

Mantis stared but did not stir,

Long'd but had no money:

The whisk-tail'd merchant bade her taste

In tones as smooth as honey.

“Look at our duri

Fragrant and dun,

Bob at our lychees,

Bite at our fresh melons,

Snow pears and passion fruit,

Grapes for the asking,

Pears red with basking

Out in the sun,

Plums on their twigs;

Pluck them and suck them,

Pomegranates, figs.”—

[optimatravels]

Top 9 Places to Visit in Rameshwaram - Discovering the Spiritual and Scenic Marvels

Rameshwaram, an enchanting island nestled in the Gulf of Mannar, is not just a destination; it's a spiritual journey that transcends time and space. With a rich tapestry of historical significance, mythological tales, and breathtaking landscapes, Rameshwaram beckons travelers seeking a unique blend of divinity and natural beauty. In this guide, we unveil the top 9 places to visit in Rameshwaram, inviting you to immerse yourself in the cultural and spiritual essence of this sacred haven.

Ramanathaswamy Temple: At the heart of Rameshwaram lies the iconic Ramanathaswamy Temple, a masterpiece of Dravidian architecture. Dedicated to Lord Shiva, this sacred shrine boasts the longest corridor among all Hindu temples in India. Pilgrims undertake the auspicious 'Rameswaram Yatra' to cleanse their sins by bathing in the 22 holy wells within the temple complex. The majestic towers, intricately carved pillars, and spiritual vibrations make Ramanathaswamy Temple an unmissable stop on your Rameshwaram pilgrimage.

Agnitheertham: As the first stop during the holy bath ritual, Agnitheertham is a pristine beach known for its golden sands and turquoise waters. It is believed that Lord Rama, before his battle with Ravana, sought the blessings of Lord Shiva here. Pilgrims take a dip in the sea, performing rituals to honor their ancestors and cleanse themselves spiritually. The sunrise at Agnitheertham is a sight to behold, casting a magical aura over the entire shoreline.

Dhanushkodi: Venture to the southernmost tip of Rameshwaram to discover the ghost town of Dhanushkodi. Ravaged by a cyclone in 1964, this abandoned village offers a surreal landscape with remnants of a railway station, church, and homes engulfed by the sea. The breathtaking views of the confluence of the Bay of Bengal and the Indian Ocean make Dhanushkodi a hauntingly beautiful experience. Jeep safaris are available for those seeking an adventurous journey through the sandy terrains.

Gandhamadhana Parvatham: For panoramic views of Rameshwaram, make your way to Gandhamadhana Parvatham. Located atop a hillock, this vantage point provides a breathtaking 360-degree perspective of the island, the blue waters, and the expansive Pamban Bridge. Legend has it that Lord Rama placed Hanuman here to search for his kidnapped wife, Sita. The Hanuman Temple on the hilltop attracts devotees and nature enthusiasts alike, especially during sunrise and sunset.

Pamban Bridge: An engineering marvel connecting Rameshwaram to the mainland, the Pamban Bridge is an iconic symbol of the island. This 2.3-kilometer-long bridge spans the Palk Strait and offers a mesmerizing view of the surrounding seascape. Timing your visit during the opening of the bridge for passing ships is a unique experience, creating a harmonious blend of man-made wonder and natural beauty.

Kothandaramaswamy Temple: Nestled amidst serene surroundings, the Kothandaramaswamy Temple is believed to be the site where Lord Rama crowned Vibhishana as the King of Lanka. The temple stands as a testament to the enduring friendship between Lord Rama and Vibhishana. The serene ambiance, coupled with the artistic depiction of the epic Ramayana, makes this temple a peaceful retreat for spiritual introspection.

A.P.J. Abdul Kalam Memorial: Honoring one of India's greatest scientists and former President, the A.P.J. Abdul Kalam Memorial in Rameshwaram pays tribute to Dr. Kalam's life and achievements. Set against the backdrop of the island's natural beauty, the memorial houses artifacts, photographs, and a statue of the "People's President." Visitors can gain insight into Dr. Kalam's remarkable journey and his contributions to science, education, and nation-building.

Ram Setu: A mythical bridge steeped in Hindu mythology, Ram Setu is believed to be the bridge constructed by Lord Rama and his army to reach Lanka. Scientifically known as Adam's Bridge, this chain of limestone shoals creates a mysterious pathway between Rameshwaram and Sri Lanka. While the religious significance is profound, the geological marvel of Ram Setu captivates the curious minds of researchers and travelers alike.

Five-faced Hanuman Temple: Located near the Ramanathaswamy Temple, the Five-faced Hanuman Temple is dedicated to Lord Hanuman, a pivotal character in the Ramayana. Each of the five faces represents different emotions – devotion, bravery, love, compassion, and wisdom. Devotees believe that visiting this temple brings strength and courage. The spiritual aura and the unique depiction of Hanuman make it a spiritually enriching experience.

Rameshwaram, with its tapestry of spirituality, history, and natural wonders, unfolds a captivating narrative for those willing to explore its depths. Whether you seek divine blessings, historical insights, or simply wish to soak in the breathtaking landscapes, Rameshwaram stands as an unrivaled destination, inviting you to embark on a transformative journey through time and tradition. Optima Travels offers several Rameshwaram tour packages to choose the most suitable one for a tourist.

Trip to Rameshwaram holds immense religious significance for the Hindu faithful. The island of Rameshwaram is one of the main goals of Hindu pilgrims who come here to pay tribute to Lord Ram, the hero of the epic Ramayana, who came here in search of his consort, Sita. Ram is one of the ten incarnations of Lord Vishnu and, to many pilgrims, Rameshwaram is as holy as Varanasi (Banaras / Kashi). On arrival, the pilgrims head straight for the Ramanathaswamy Temple, built on the site where Lord Ram worshipped Lord Shiva in order to do penance for having killed Ravan, the ten-headed demon king of Lanka (the ancient name of Sri Lanka). Rameshwaram is so intimately linked with the life of Lord Ram that, to the Hindus, every grain of its sand is considered sacred. Naturally, Rameshwaram pilgrimage tour happens to be very popular among the devout Hindus. The temple of Rameshwaram is probably one of the most beautiful in all India in terms of sculpture. It rises above a lake as a vast rectangle about 1,000 feet long and 650 feet wide. It dates back to the 17th century although the process of building it took no less than three-and-a half centuries. The inspiration for its construction came from one of the princes of Sri Lanka. Though the tall gopuram is true representative of Dravidian style of temple structure but the corridors of the Rameshwaram Temple are unique. They surround the rectangle, stretching out over a distance of 4,000 feet. Through occasional apertures, light filters into these corridors and flits over the carved pillars lining every foot on both sides. Each pillar is an individual composition carved out of solid granite. But it is only one of an army, and the total effect of the two ranks standing watch on the sides of the corridors is quite overpowering. Leading authorities call this the most evolved of all Dravidian temples.

[vatt-world]

rap verse

Hope on my mind, like a song so sweet, Through the day and night, it's what I seek to meet, In the quiet moments, it's all I find, A melody of hope, in my heart intertwined./ ////

On this heartbreak anniversary, feeling blue, But I won't let it define what I do, Gonna rise up strong, gonna find my groove, Turning pain into power, that's how I move.

Every beat of my heart, every tear I shed, Reminds me of the strength inside my head, I'll keep pushing forward, won't stay down, In the face of heartbreak, I wear my crown. //// From this moment, let's break free, Write our story, just you and me, No looking back, no holding back, In each other's arms, we'll stay on track.

With every breath, we'll rise above, Chasing dreams, fueled by love, From this moment, we'll take the lead, In our hands, the power we need. /// Unbreak my heart, let the healing start, Find the light in this endless dark, Through the echoes of memories, I'll find my way, Turning sorrow into strength, day by day.

No more chains, no more strife, I'll reclaim my joy, embrace this life, Unbreak my heart, set me free, From the weight of this pain, let me be. ///

In Amarillo, with the morning light, Colors dance, painting the sky so bright, With every sunrise, a new day begins, In the heart of Texas, where the spirit wins.

In Amarillo, as the world awakes, Whispers of dreams, with each breath it takes, On dusty roads, beneath the endless blue, Hope blossoms anew, like the morning dew.

In Amarillo, where the wind sings its song, Carrying tales of the ones who belong, In the quiet moments, where peace is found, Amarillo's beauty, forever unbound. //

Hard to handle, but I wear it like a crown, Breaking barriers, never backing down, With a rebel yell and a heart of gold, I'll take on the world, and break the mold.

Smooth talker, with a wild side to boot, In a world of rules, I'll write my own truth, Hard to handle, but I'll ride the wave, With a spirit untamed, I'll be brave. ////////// n a sea of faces, it's you I see, In the silence of night, you're my soliloquy, Only you can make my heart beat fast, With your touch, all my worries pass.

In a universe so vast, you're my guiding star, In the depths of my soul, you're who you are, Only you can make me feel complete, With your love, my life's replete. ///

Sun-kissed days and starry nights, In the warmth of summer's embrace, we take flight, Golden rays paint the sky, as we roam, In this summertime magic, we find our home.

Barefoot adventures, with sand between our toes, As the ocean sings its sweet melodies, we're in the throes, Of endless laughter and boundless joy, In this summertime magic, our spirits buoy. ///

[fxllen-cne-archived]

𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚, 600 𝐁𝐂𝐄

3235 years after the Great Flood.

~~

A red sun sets over the golden sands, the low chain of mountains stretched as far as the eye could see eastward like still waves amongst a frozen sea. The river Euphrates cut through the rocky wastes, its crystal azure waters granting its life-giving blessings. The river channels in a vast square which surrounded the pride and joy of the rising Babylonian Empire, the City of Babylon.

The crown jewel of Nebuchadnezzar II, the unrelenting king from Chaldea, son of Nabopalasar, who had carved a bloody path through the ancient lands expanding his reach until his empire became a force to be not to be reckoned with. The city walls protected this grand citadel, magnificent gates and broad processional roads all framing massive palaces, iridescent gardens, and temples of ornate grandeur.

But all this paled in comparison to the might of the kings most daring and coveted show of power. In the axis of the city, stood the prominent structure that garnered Baylon's fame. The Tower of Babel, the home of the royal family and his cohorts. Each brick of clay was intricately laid and designed from the mind of the king, it's proportions of squares perfectly inscribes into a triangle stretching past the very clouds, the battlements like great stone fingers touching the fading noon sky.

In the vast throne room, Nebuchadnezzar indulged in the splendors of all a king would at the time. The finest wine, the pleasurable company of harems, music and food in celebration of Zagmuk. Raising their glasses, laughing and being merry without a care in the world. Amongst the celebrating crowds, a keen eye, one in particular would perceive a dark shape within the masses. A towering figure dressed head to toe in robes of silken black like a thousand nights, a sash of violet and a cloak of ebony draped over his head, hiding his features. All except two, piercing glowing orbs burning red like coals fresh from a fire. He moved weightlessly through them like a serpent, his form lithe. yet strapping but slithered through them unseen like a dark mist heading to the balconies of the Hanging Gardens.

__

@kugel-bitch

[pandarpposts]

DND: Sunset Death

The heat was oppressive in the desert city on the edge of the ocean. A port town, it was swirling miasma of people, races, coming and going either to leave through the port or travel further inward to the kingdoms beyond. And just like any other port of entry there was a seedy underbelly that thrived on slave trade, illegal goods, and the like. And as the party entered the back alleys word had spread about the upcoming cage matches featuring the almost whispered about Sunset Death. The match was the last one of the afternoons, cleverly coinciding with twilight into night fall. Word was a new contender had been brought in to fight the current champion, who as of today had been undefeated. And their methods sounded barbaric and downright disturbing to keep their bloody crown.

Thanks to some clever trading the party found themselves with reserved passes to the match, the merchant they had traded with so pleased with their goods offering it as a bonus to the payout. And soon enough they found themselves in an arena, with throngs of people, all cheering. The sound of the crowd almost mirroring the roar of a great beast. In the seats given they had a clear view of the sand floor and iron bar walled fighting arena; it was clearly to high to allow anyone to escape. And soon enough the smaller matches began, but as they got closer to the main event, the mood in the crowd almost became blood thirsty. Indeed, what had been revelry, and good-nature betting, shifted to something darker. A low chant started in the crowd. “Death…. Death…. Death…. Death….” It was at the pulse of a heartbeat, and it increased to an almost fanatical, panic inducing demand.

Looking to the center of the ring, a large man was walked in chains. Was this Sunset? No, the announcer stating the man was a new import from another land, the champion of a smaller ring. He looked massive, it was clear whomever owned him previously had been grooming him to be a prized fighter and it seemed he had most likely earned his owner a fat purse. The runners of the area moved heavy weapon racks to his side of the arena, however, the defending side was still darkened. He walked towards the array of weapons, picking up a trident and small shield, hefting the three-pronged weapon he nodded and moved back to the center of the ring.

The crowd suddenly surged to its feet, startling the party that was among them. “DEATH!!! DEATH!! DEATH!!!” Their wild shrieks of hungry delight rolled like a siren’s song over the arena. The torches took light as the sunset started, soft pops of light licking along the side walls, as the very light of day fled the coming shadows. A roll of dust and debris puffed from the cave like entrance of the arena, as a hush stilled the crowd, from wild shrieks to anticipatory silence. The wooden doors creaked open, and she stepped forth.

She easily stood six feet; her body was carved like stone among the simple ragged clothes that barely covered her modesty. Her hair caught the torchlight and it framed her face like a halo of fire, her stout, angular features pretty in an example of strength. But if you looked closer those lines created by hunger and starvation, those deep golden eyes looked wild and alert. The gaze of a cornered animal then anything human. Around her throat was a simple golden choker that sparked with magical energy. The male towered above her even still, and a smirk of superiority came to his face. She stepped out into the dusty floor and looked around the arena. Any good hunter would now she was looking in vain for escape. Suddenly behind her a mage appeared and words whispered the woman let out a SHRIEK of pain.

The other warrior took a confused step back, as before him the barbarian woman’s head snapped back then forward, her eyes locking on him, pupils rolling from circles to slits, her honey gold skin melting into deeper oranges along the back of her arms, and spine. Deep dark black lines blushing forth, as her nose flattened, upper lip splitting, and fangs ripping from her upper gums. She gripped her head, and the choker sparked again and the scream melted into a roar of rage. A lycanthrope?!?! But no mere wolfkind, as the tigress burst forward, a snarl on her lips. The crowd erupted, screaming and jumping in place some even fainting from the sight.

The male fighter took three steps back trying to ready himself for what he thought was a frontal assault, however at the last mintue the beast woman launched to the left and up. Her clawed feet finding purchase on the iron barred wall and moving horizontally along the circle, the crowd clapping and cheering. The male looked around almost confused, turning just in time to block her descending clawed strike with the shield that disintegrated on the impact. The tigress slid back along the sand floor in a crouch, her tail swishing in anticipation. Her eyes locked on the male with the trident.

            Having regained his senses a bit, he charged forward. The party was almost certain they saw the tigress smirk, her eyes closing as her nose flared a moment. She didn’t move, the male bearing down on her like a freight train, but just as the trident came forward, she sprang forward, flipping over his back, her claws sinking into his shoulder, and raking down his back, eliciting a shriek of pain from the massive man. Ribbons of scarlet hitting the sand, as she landed behind him, delivering a vicious kick to his kidneys. The force sent the man tumbling into the sand to his knees, and the scent of blood hit her nose.

What happened next was almost nausea inducing, the bestial female’s head snapped back, and her eyes dilated. She took a step back, her thigh muscles visibly tensing under her fur covered thighs and hips. With a roar she rushed the man trying to get to his feet, and her teeth sank into his neck, and ripped backward. Blood sprayed from the wound as he screamed in horror, trying to free himself from her grasp, but her clawed hands sank into his chest, locking in place as her fanged mouth once more descended into his shoulder biting into the flesh hungrily, and actually managing to get a solid piece out to swallow.

As the party watched horrified, the tigress swallowed the flesh and licked her blood-soaked maw, looking to go for another bite before her scream of pain rippled across the blood-soaked sand. Her collar lit up to almost white-hot levels as she fell back, the magi on the edge of the area.  She clawed at her throat desperately before another shock rocked her body and she fell back unconscious to the floor. Instantly guards poured out to get the body of the fighter out of the arena. A second set put multiple point shackles on the body of the tigress, and pulled her from the arena. Once more, Sunset Death was victorious, as the first stars lit up the night sky.

[libidomechanica]

I awoke, and meant her

Yet in my love; they wounds have been.     Gods holy dress for you to get marriage-bed. When I arrived.     A lonely Hell. Leaves his head, sunning in Sense. The kids     beside a lewde lorrell, yet deceiver ripped preace emong     ten thou hast deserted,

and died to tell him, and obedience;     i’ll desert my self find him we would quake. For her     I’ll try to creature—auld Nature declar’d thus by that I     cannot provoke him, but brakes given, all as I wont to     seeke the king of Folly,

age and began to shall deuow’r with     sapphire melts with your roabes be meeke and let the grossly     dyed. I love but Like, you and I. So liefe: let all be     the force thy remembrance them very sightless dove. Life’s bliss,     nor debar’d from sun’s

abundant flower wishes to thy     broad heare, to tent the Muse do pleasant grove, its deeper of     her hands: bound a peacock, sits at streams do show, at they should     I forget the glen o’ woman soul fault confest my mouth     with sweetest lips can see

it be at being only wedding     back, it’s unlike ever feet, whether was in our foot     along to fancy free. Sand the winds shore. Who last have a     canker in youthful war shall well-seeing all night to my     use it wasn’t making base:

now the Fairy Queen; at the world     out the stars; her straight and behold, he laid up for love after     another crowned on: then thou in acts: then the Dog Star     rages, and whisper her. Responds,—as if at merit live,     drawn himself, or so, and

bask in the prairie, that appear!     To hold upon the spirit, wit, nor soule opprest, whose gaps     I was done. All as the sun shall never grown wherever     images should love up acres and when we court and weak,     and overwhelm the crossbeam

of their clothes to me you soar     too has wrought a license and bask in the daughter got marriage-     bed where the twilight, the wild? Do heare then in the vnwary     sheepe, adieu good to my eye, round us, scaled to keepers     of Zion, and the

sun grows the world are done, you know?     The drugstore, yet nearer because of these eyes like to him,     maybe can never equipage. And if she been stand anguish,     how I come quickly make vnspilling that’s the Grashopper     so well enough, I trowe,

while the blind, so trembling for     Lebanon, excellence. To face brightness? I have to Love as     birthplace to bring, like a wretch did know I bear it: when my     fathers lovely doe his banner, thou nor no one said to     me in the tender pipes

may sleepe, they keepe. The vines with one     bright Cynthia, there! All my love thin-lipped tight, ever shone     again afterward violets blue as your fancy me, on     a red golden Diademe: the lust of an Alien Shah     whose eyes of Poet stars,

timing you to heares exprest,     whose wound, and tell—this woe; what blight me too highly wore, suffice     this old chain of my hands bearing heart, my spouse Nancy.     Saints now astonied with pain there sharp knuckless, flaming, there     be in loue. But for truckers,

in low prostration, her hands     of Tityrus, I cannot his country lassie, O. Go     call it a fear this page to play for feare he rules, and eat     him bring forth in a cloud- ledge where fraught in the lime and raised     the blood of sprites shall

be late: though parents grudge, or naething     is heart, and live oak. He is better gracefu’ air;     ilk featureless maid I love my blood of inward and greater     was his desire, and love. The lily I condemned     to my vows o’ summer

day when shall sense did departest;     and her clowne, lyft vp the flying summer burnt&blasts anywhere.     I play for feare would the floor of poetry’s relations     as the sun shall I love but memory. Will here, dear Love,     if I forgot, my spouse!

[ardenssolis]

@nvrcmplt​​ said (inbox):

His stare was one of awe, sheer awe - though a beast of many talents and of much knowledge. Geography and landscapes were often overlooked with his wings devouring the clouds for miles on end. To travel far from his territory was almost nigh impossible, the instinctual chain that kept his kind nearby, just in case, was an irritant he was thankful to be broken at current. Vuir - didn't know what to call this place - nor what or how it came to be.

But he dared not fly over it with dismissiveness, instead - the creature lowered itself with a flutter of wings and closing them near completely upon his sides to plummet from cloud and stars to land with a hefty thud of his weight upon its ... golden sands!

Do not think of him a fool, for he knew of what sand was, how it was made, what it could become and used for! But to witness it so vastly expanded out like the oceanic seas of his homelands, he found himself in a trance of delight. Wings fold just enough to allow his clawed joints to rest upon a risen ridge, feeling it break under his touch when soft movements were used, but also no judge as quickly when weight was behind it.

His nostrils flared with delight - a hatchling in a new zone of the nest almost fluttered in his blood, and he eased his touch to instead turn his large head to peer elsewhere. Moving to stabilize himself upon uneven dunes to then ease up one side of it. Humoured at how easily it broke under his claws, but his padded paws didn't seem to part it at all. Fascinating, so it wasn't a light dusting of sand but completely and utterly, nothing but sand.

Curiosity struck and within time, did his jowls spark with light and silent cracks, before being blasted over the sandy surface - the power of lightening strong and hot, and before Vuir's very eyes did he witness it crystallize, watched it explode almost and stiffen into newly formed spiked grainy glass... His tails flared in delight, twisting to touch the newly formed pillar with snout, and felt himself grin with what to do next. Arching his neck and with a grimace, did his crown split in two places, tearing away the membrane that held his skulls together and with a bellowed hiss did his three necks shake aside minimal blood and fill out with magic flooding his veins...

And not only that - as each jowl began to blossom with the same light.

Come daybreak and upon the distance of the Pharaoh's pyramids was a towering beauty - of thousands of sand like pillars, forming a tower, twisting to the clouds and reflecting the sun's light into every colour known to the human eye. Its peak hidden from sight, but it's size colossal to that of primitive human make.

Vuir settled upon the balcony - stretching his wings behind his back and smirking upon his new home. The sands here would be wonderful for his curiosity thus, he held himself in high regard - though at this point, he had finally noticed ---- humanity, a sea away. Tsk... but, he doubted they'd come to visit his domain. Though he knows it's custom to greet neighbours amount the meat bags, still, he didn't like them - so he didn't particularly want too. Ugh - should we send a gift? Oh --- oh, that would be best.

Thus - upon the eve, wings of glitter and legs of glass held upon a woven gift. Swift, it was fluttering over the heads of humans working hard and towards the most beautiful of places within this place - where it landed with the soft clinks of what it was upon shiny floors. When stepped towards - would it shatter, but the woven gift left behind - within it - a miniature set of glass globes. One, empty - but the other - holding a piece of lighting and sand, that seemed to be making never-ending forms of animals, words and places Vuir gave it knowledge off. The other globe, however - only sparked to life when Ramses would touch it - reacting to what was in his blood.

"Oho? God-touched are we?" The voice came from the item, Vuir's gaze sharp and animalistic with condescension, but curiosity sparkled. "Keep the gifts, Ruler. I do not know of your customers yet nor do I have much interest at the moment, but I am Vuir - Great Mage. My tower, will remain as long as I do. I wish not to fight, though humans tend to not care about those words much - so before you dare send war to my front door, do know I can erase your primitive sand triangles from my sight. Use this communication orb if you wish to talk in the future, I'll be busy for the next few weeks, this place of sand-sea is truly beautiful, and I wish to study and explore. ... Ah, what else was there?" His clawed digits pressed to his chin, scaled and sharp. "Ah - yes. Hello neighbour." It cut out then.

Vuir stretched his arms, twisting from his own throne to head towards the balcony once more, and took flight. He had truly much to see here!

     THERE HAD BEEN WORD of a most peculiar beast that had come to the desert from some distant shore far beyond anything that his people had known. There were many creatures in this world that were new to those of the desert who only knew specific kinds and rarely cared for anything else outside of their lands, and thus, outside of the sputtering of a merchant saying something about a ‘dragon’, Ramses was quite at a loss. A giant reptilian creature with the capability of breathing fire or controlling elements of nature itself? To any other that would have been a ridiculous statement, and yet, how was he to see it as such when this world overflowed with magic at every corner? Still, despite his curiosity, he did not think much would come from this information. This ‘dragon’ would pass through as many other beasts of different make had, and then go on their way to some other distant land to either make their home, or merely traverse through with the same ease a falcon would with wings outstretched. That was his thought initially, at least. Behold his surprise when something vast swooped above him with such speed, that he almost thought he hadn’t seen anything at all.

     Maybe he hadn’t.

     Stepping closer to the item that had shattered upon his pristine floors, he was hesitant to reach out to it, but he bent down, allowing his fingers to brush against the crystalline surface. It was then that a voice came forth, eyes sharp and dangerous peering back at him, but shining with an intellect that said what spoke was no more ‘beast’. ❝A mage?❞ he muttered, taken aback by this proud proclamation. Not many just stated what their abilities were like this. Those who held such powers tended to be quiet, keeping it hidden for their own reasons. However, here was this dragon happily stating this without a care in the world. Then again, considering how powerful he was told such beings were, perhaps that was the right of it. As soon as the voice cut out, he lifted up the orb in hish and, examining it pensively for a moment before clicking his tongue. ❝What arrogance. ‘Primitive sand triangles.’❞ Never before had anyone called the greatness of those pyramids such a thing before. Well, this ‘neighbor’ of his was going to be a headache.

     Ramses could tell that much.

     ❝How aggravating.❞