#renaissance splendor

[cuties-in-codices]

the boiling of the king

in a copy of the alchemical treatise "splendor solis", germany, c. 1577

source: Paris, BnF, ms. allemand 113, fol. 23v

[illustratus]

A red-faced sun rises above a city; stunted trees stand in the foreground; representing either the culmination of the alchemical Great Work or the star of hope that inspires the alchemist through his tribulation; from Salomon Trismosin's 'Splendor solis'.

Salomon Trismosin was a legendary Renaissance alchemist, claimed possessor of the philosopher's stone and teacher of Paracelsus. He is best known as the author of the alchemical works Splendor Solis and Aureum Vellus.

[chuuyrr]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 LET THE FEAR YOU HAVE FALL AWAY, I'VE GOT MY EYE ON YOU — FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY .ᐟ

𐀔·˚ CW(s): f! reader, bsd chapter 112 & 113 spoilers, religious themes, angst/comfort, reader is hinted to have an angel-like ability, poetic-ish writing

𐀔·˚ SYNOPSIS: like lucifer's descent from heaven's height, he fell and you followed

𐀔·˚ NOW PLAYING: say yes to heaven by lana del rey

in the grand halls of the museum, where the walls were adorned with masterpieces of art from centuries past, you first caught sight of him—fyodor dostoevsky, with his magnetic presence and mysterious aura, stood before a painting, his gaze fixed on the canvas as if it held the secrets of the universe.

amidst the splendor of renaissance masterpieces and timeless classics, you stood, a vision of innocence and wonder, your eyes drawn to the enigmatic figure across the room.

despite the warnings whispered by your intuition, you couldn't resist the urge to approach him, couldn't ignore the magnetic pull that seemed to bind you to him amidst the strokes of paint and layers of history.

fyodor continues to gaze upon the famous religious painting that hung on the far wall, depicting the fall of lucifer from heaven's height, "it's a hauntingly beautiful piece, isn't it?" you muse, your eyes lingering on the intricate details of the canvas.

he nods, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips, his eyes not leaving the painting, "indeed, it is. it captures the tragedy of lucifer's descent, his fall from grace immortalized in paint and canvas."

"and yet," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath, "i cannot help but feel a strange kinship with him, with the fallen angel who defied the heavens for love."

fyodor's gaze shifts from the painting to you, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of curiosity and understanding as you continue speaking, "you know, love has a way of defying the rules of the universe."

he murmurs his response, fyodor's voice carrying a weight of experience beyond his years, "it can lead us to places we never imagined, make us do things we never thought ourselves capable of."

you nod, captivated by the intensity of his gaze, "and yet, it can also lead to our downfall," you reply softly, a hint of sadness tingling your words. "like the fallen angel, we may find ourselves cast out from the heavens, destined to wander in the darkness for eternity."

"but perhaps," fyodor muses, his voice barely more than a whisper, yet carrying something heavy in it, "it is in the darkness that we truly find ourselves; in the depths of despair."

you are silent for a moment, lost in thought as you contemplate his words, "say, do you believe that we can find redemption, even after falling from grace?" you ask, your voice hesitant yet hopeful.

your question hangs in the air, a weighty silence settling between you and fyodor. his gaze, once warm and reassuring, now holds a hint of uncertainty, as if grappling with the complexities of your inquiry.

"redemption," he repeats, the word tasting bitter on his tongue, "a concept that eludes even the most devout of believers. for who among us can claim to be free from sin, to be worthy of redemption?"

you listen, your heart heavy with the weight of his words. there is a darkness in him that you cannot ignore, a shadow that clouds his every action and motive.

"and yet," fyodor continues, his voice softer now, almost pleading, "i cannot help but believe that there is hope for us yet. that despite our flaws and failings, we are capable of finding that salvation.. don't you think so, dear?"

you want to believe him, to cling to the flicker of hope that he offers, but doubts linger in the recesses of your mind. can redemption truly be found in the embrace of someone so steeped in darkness?

as you wrestle with your doubts, fyodor reaches out, his hand gentle against your cheek, his touch cold as ice, yet inviting like snow, "together," he whispers, his voice a soothing balm against the turmoil in your soul, "we can redeem ourselves, and find peace."

his words are a siren song, luring you deeper into the abyss. and though a part of you knows that following him will only lead to further darkness, you find yourself unable to resist.

for in the presence of this stranger, you feel a sense of purpose, and so, with a heavy heart and a mind clouded by doubt, you choose to follow him into the unknown, clinging to the hope that somehow, you will find the light at the end of the tunnel.

fyodor knew, as he gazed into your eyes, that you possessed a power beyond measure. it was an ability born of innocence and purity, yet tempered by the trials of the world. he saw the light that radiated from your soul, a beacon of hope in the darkness that surrounded him.

and you, in turn, sensed the darkness that lurked within him, the shadowy depths of his being that he kept hidden from the world. but despite the warnings whispered by your intuition, you couldn't resist the pull of his presence, couldn't deny the longing that stirred within your heart whenever you were near him.

in shadows deep, where whispers weave,

two souls entwined, in love's deceitful sieve.

you, the angel with wings of gold,

he, the fallen, his secrets untold.

despite the warning bells ringing in your mind, you find yourself inexorably drawn to fyodor, like a moth to a flame. his charisma and conviction are like a siren's call, beckoning you deeper into the abyss of his twisted ideology.

as he speaks of blessings for the children and happiness to the world to your ears, you can't help but feel a shiver run down your spine. his words, laced with honeyed deceit, cloak the darkness of his actions in the guise of righteousness.

and yet, when he speaks of god and his desire for perfection and harmony, there is a fervor in his voice that is hard to ignore. he paints himself as a righteous crusader, a chosen vessel for carrying out the lord's will in a world plagued by sin.

but beneath the facade of piety lies a darkness that you cannot reconcile. you see the cruelty in his actions, the pain he inflicts on innocent souls in the name of his twisted version of salvation—from the rats in the house of the dead to the decay of angel. all of it.

his words offer a glimmer of hope in the darkness that surrounds you, but deep down, you can't shake the feeling of unease. you've witnessed the cruelty he inflicts upon others, the pain he causes in the name of his twisted vision of righteousness, along with the lives he took from others.

"what about those who suffer because of your actions?" you press, your voice quivering with emotion as your feathered wings of an angel folded behind your back, red splattered on white as if it was red blood and white snow, "do you believe they can find redemption too?"

fyodor's expression darkens for a moment, a shadow passing over his features before he regains his composure, "sometimes, sacrifices must be made for the greater good," he replies, his voice cold and distant, "it is a small price to pay for the salvation of humanity."

you recoil at his words, the weight of his callousness pressing down on you like a leaden blanket. despite your doubts, despite the whispers of your conscience urging you to flee, you find yourself unable to turn away from him.

feeling the weight of your doubts and fears, fyodor's expression softens, and he reaches out to gently take your hand in his. his touch is cold, a strange yet comforting contrast to the warmth that had settled over your soul.

"my dear," he begins, his voice gentle and reassuring, "i understand your concerns. it's natural to question, to doubt, in the face of uncertainty. but trust me when i say that everything i do, i do with the utmost conviction, with the belief that it is for the greater good."

his words soothe the turmoil in your heart, if only for a moment. you find yourself drawn to the sincerity in his eyes, the earnestness of his conviction. despite the darkness that surrounds him, there is a flicker of something genuine within him, a spark of humanity that refuses to be extinguished—his love for you.

"and as for those who suffer," he continues, his voice filled with compassion, "know that i carry the burden of their pain with me always. it is a heavy cross to bear, but i do so willingly, in the hope of bringing about a better world."

as he speaks, you feel a sense of peace settle over you, a quiet acceptance of the path that lies ahead. in his embrace, you find solace, a refuge from the storm raging within your soul and as he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, you feel a warmth spread through you.

as the warmth of fyodor's embrace envelops you, you can't shake the nagging doubts that linger in the corners of your mind. despite his reassurances, you still can't help but wonder if the path you're on truly leads to redemption or if it's veering dangerously close to damnation.

and then, just when you least expect it, fyodor's gaze locks onto yours with an intensity that takes your breath away, "do you love me?" he asks, his voice barely more than a whisper, but it reverberates through the depths of your soul like a thunderclap.

his question catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. you find yourself drowning in the depths of his gaze, lost in the swirling currents of emotion that swirl within you.

it's as if he's pulling you in, drawing you closer with an irresistible allure that you can't resist. like a fallen angel tempting a pure soul yet to succumb to darkness, he wraps you in his embrace, his touch setting your heart ablaze with a fire you can't extinguish.

speechless at first, you find yourself caught in the gravity of fyodor's deep gaze, unable to tear your eyes away from his. his words echo in the caverns of your mind, stirring a whirlwind of emotions that threaten to consume you.

but fyodor doesn't wait for your response. instead, he continues, his voice a soothing melody that wraps around you like a comforting embrace.

"let your fear fall away, my love," he whispers, his words a gentle reassurance against the storm raging within your soul, "i am here for you, always. trust in me, trust in our love, and together we will rise above the darkness that threatens to engulf us."

his words are like a lifeline in the midst of a tempest, offering you solace and strength when you need it most. and as you gaze into his eyes, you feel a sense of calm wash over you, a quiet acceptance of the path that lies ahead.

"do you love me?" fyodor asks again, his voice filled with a raw vulnerability that pierces through the facade of his confidence, "say yes to heaven, to us. say yes to me, my love."

his words hang in the air, a silent plea that tugs at your heartstrings. and in that moment, as you stand on the precipice of uncertainty, you know that you have a choice to make. you can cling to the safety of your doubts and fears, or you can take a leap of faith into the unknown, guided by the hand of the one you love.

with a trembling breath, you meet fyodor's gaze, your voice barely above a whisper as you utter the words that seal your fate.

"yes," you say, your heart pounding in your chest, "i love you. i say yes to heaven, to us."

beneath the moonlight's gentle glow, fyodor draws you close, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that ignites a firestorm of passion within you. it's a kiss that tastes of forbidden desires and whispered promises.

as his lips press against yours, you feel a surge of electricity coursing through your veins, a sensation so intense it threatens to consume you whole. it's a feeling you've never experienced before, a heady mix of longing and surrender that leaves you breathless and wanting more.

in that moment, you realize that you are no longer the innocent angel you once were. the blood of the lives you took stains your feathery wings, a reminder of the sins you've committed in the name of love. and yet, as you wrap your wings around fyodor, drawing him closer to you, you know that you wouldn't have it any other way.

for in his embrace, you find redemption, a sense of purpose that transcends the boundaries of morality and reason. and as you lose yourself in the intoxicating embrace of his kiss, you know that you have chosen your path, for better or for worse.

like a fallen angel corrupting a pure soul, fyodor has led you astray, tempting you with the forbidden fruit of his love and yet, as you surrender to the darkness that consumes you both.

as the helicopter carrying fyodor descends towards the building, panic grips the air. dazai and chuuya watch in horror, their voices drowned out by the deafening roar of the crashing metal.

nikolai, the ally of your love, tasked with keeping you restrained for your own safety, struggles in vain to keep you chained, but his efforts prove futile against the strength of your resolve.

with a defiant cry, your white, feathery, angelic wings unfurled with a majestic flourish. the chains that once held you captive fall away like brittle twigs, unable to withstand the force of your determination.

with a powerful flap of your wings, you launch yourself into the air, soaring towards the burning wreckage with a sense of urgency that borders on desperation. the wind rushes past you, whipping through your hair and stirring the feathers of your wings as you race against time to reach fyodor.

as your heart heavy with determination, you set your sights on him, your angelic wings carrying you towards the helicopter where he lies bloodied and impaled.

fyodor's surprise is evident as he sees you, freed from the chains that once bound you, rushing to his side. but as you reach out to save him, the flames engulfing the helicopter grow stronger, fueled by the chaos of the moment.

as you rush to fyodor's side amidst the chaos and flames, his surprise is palpable, "what have you done?" he gasps, his voice laced with disbelief and a hint of desperation, "why did you come after me?"

but you meet his gaze with unwavering determination, your voice steady despite the turmoil surrounding you as tears blur your vision, "because i'm longer afraid," you reply, your words a declaration of your unwavering love and loyalty, "and i said yes to heaven, to you. i love you."

fyodor's expression softens, a flicker of emotion passing through his eyes as he takes in your words.

the flames of the crashing helicopter engulf you both, fyodor's mind races with disbelief. never in all his years, through all the eras he has traversed, did he imagine that someone as angelic as you would follow his descent into darkness until the very end.

despite your efforts, you realize with a sinking heart that it's too late. the flames rage around you, the turbulence of the crashing metal making it impossible for you to fly any longer. and in that moment of desperation, you know that your fate is sealed, bound together with fyodor's in a tragic twist of destiny.

dazai, chuuya, and nikolai can only watch in horror as the helicopter, carrying the two of you, descends into the inferno below, and it's a scene straight out of a nightmare, the fall of lucifer from heaven's height mirrored in the downfall of fyodor with you.

but in that fleeting moment before oblivion claims him, fyodor felt a surge of gratitude mixed with sorrow. gratitude for the love and loyalty you showed him, despite the darkness that consumed him.

sorrow for the tragedy that befell both of you, a consequence of his own actions and the twisted path he had chosen.

the world around him fades into darkness, but fyodor's thoughts still linger on you, his angel who chose to follow him into the depths of hell. and in that final moment of clarity, he finds a small measure of peace, knowing that even in death, you loved him, and he loved you.

as the heavens wept with auburn for your tragic tale, you danced on where shadows prevail. for he was both god and devil, intertwined, and you, his angel, forever confined.

and in the echoes of your love's demise,

you cherish the moments, beneath starlit skies.

for in his darkness, you found your light,

a love that burned, fierce in the night.

𐀔·˚ TAGGING: @aureatchi @soleelia @little-miss-chaos @cheriiyaya @himikoslove @atzuhi @enjisthings @chizenn

𐀔·˚ A.N.: this is my first ever fyodor fic, hopefully he wasn't too ooc, and as for the plot? the start where you and him meet was inspired by @/aureatchi or reverie with her fondness for fyodor and museums. it felt so so fitting !! also the angst and comfort of the plot was very intended ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

[rcksmith]

Last night of the world — Five Hargreeves

You can find the 3 request here: anonymous 1, anonymous 2, anonymous 3.

Resume: Luther's wedding was an ironic joke for Five Hargreeves, especially with the apocalypse knocking at the door. But, that night, when Five looked at you and his breath escaped his lungs, he understood his brother. Beause he would marry you too on the last night of the world if he could.

Fluff prompts:

5. ”Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.”

11. “Wow- you look…amazing.” 

15. “Because i love you god damnit!”

16. “I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass..” “I heard that!” “You were supposed to!”

20. “How am i supposed to spoil you when you wont accept my gifts?”

40. “Come cuddle.”

Couple: Five Hargreeves /Fem!Reader.

Warnings: just swearing, little angst, mention of death, VERY FLUFF.

Word count:3k.

A/N: Spoiler from season 3.

Because I have a lot of requests in my box, I compile 3 orders that are similar and put together, but I took care to added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. 

We not tolerate any pedophilia here!! I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter, MHA and others fandoms.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are OPEN. Love you ❤️

———

He can remember to this day. The taste of heaven on the top of his tongue, his heart suddenly racing into an uncontrollable rhythm, the sensation of an icy shiver coursing through his body and igniting a hot flame deep in his chest. It was like seeing the muse of a Renaissance painting: exciting, destabilizing. And all your splendor made the soul of Five Hargreeves want to kneel for you in eternal devotion.

You were breathtaking. And even after years, he can still remember that moment.

Five is not a man who is easily impressed, nor is he snatched by any woman. He is firm, rational and practical. But meeting you… in all your glory as a God-decorated angel, made him want to admit the existence of the divine and drown himself in your religion.

It only took a few months for Hargreeves to realize that the earth's rotation only made sense when you were by his side, directing smiles towards him that made he feel like he was in the heart of the sun, that awakened the will to…be good. At least the best possible, for you. To have the illusion that he could deserve you.

Maybe if Five Hargreeves tried to be a better man when he was by your side, he could fool the gods, life or fate, that he deserved you. And so no one would take you away from him. Maybe.

The relationship of you two was something inevitable, unstoppable, Five held you like it was a miracle and didn't dare let go anymore. You were one of those once-in-a-lifetime things, and he wasn't going to risk losing you. But, lucky for Five, you loved him just as much as Phyllis loved Demophon.

There was an unspoken promise surrounding the love of the two of you, the unshakable conviction that you would remain side by side, until the end of the world.

"You are so lost in thought." Your voice snapped Five out of his reverie, bringing him back to reality.

A reality many years later. Where the end of the world knocked at the door, once again. Where his dysfunctional family was trapped in that strange and confusing reality. A reality where, in the midst of impending death, Luther was getting married.

When did time go by so fast?

It was at that moment that the blue eyes with ocean hues were in your direction, and just like so many years ago, Five lost his breath, his reason and his understanding of the world. The red silk clung to every curve of your body like an embrace of perfection, your skin was glistening under the lights of the hotel's ballroom, leaving you looking like a fantasy too good to have come true.

Holy fuck.

“Wow-’’  His voice got stuck on the way from brain to mouth, too perplexed how someone like you could be real. “You look…amazing.” 

The sincerity in his voice, charged with a tremor and veneration, made the hairs on your arms stand on end and your heart race like horses in a race. How, after so many years, could he still look at you as if you were the most beautiful deity among the Greek gods? There was a pure love deep in his eyes that always made your soul tremble.

"You look wonderful too." You flashed a big smile, running your hand down his arm. “I love you in a suit.”

Five made a mocking sound, like a half laugh, as he looked away for a second before turning his attention to you.

"You always say that."

"Because it's true"

Your body came close to his without hesitation, being greeted by Five's warm arm around your waist. His touch became firmer as he pulled you a little closer, as if, unconsciously, he firming up territory.

“What were you thinking?” He looked at you in an inquisitive way “When I arrived. What were you thinking?”

"In you." His answer came as firm as his grip, and your heart leapt in chest. “More specifically the first time I saw you.”

There was something about the way Five Hargreeves looked at you. Something mysterious, passionate, hot as the fire of sin and sweet as the gates of paradise. Something that made you feel like you were living a true love story. Emotions curled at the top of your throat, and you knew you would cry if you uttered a single syllable. So you just laid your head on his shoulder, snuggling into the person who was the reason you were still breathing.

“What are the plans for tonight?” Your voice came out when you were sure you wouldn't cry, looking back into his eyes.

“My only plan for tonight is to get fucked up beyond all recognition” Then his mouth got closer to your ear and became wicked when said "And fuck you so fucking hard that I'm going to break the bed"

Hot shivers licked up your spine to the back of your neck, heat in your belly rose to your eyes, and you smiled broadly, full of sinful expectation.

Five's promises were never in vain.

”Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.” he said.

Your cheeks flushed and you smiled even wider, the blood pulsing hard in your veins, following the same rhythm as your passionate heart.

Hargreeves bit his teeth as he tightened his grip on your waist. “You teasing little thing.”

You laughed loud, letting him lead you to one of the tables and you said softly  “I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass...” 

“I heard that!” 

“You were supposed to!”

----

No one knew - or cared - what time it was, the height of dawn was always perfect for rampant alcohol and dubious behavior. Nights were made for choices that weren't made during the day.

At that moment, forever was in that ballroom, with drunk people and loud music. The colored lights pulsed like a car engine, contributing alcohol to cloud and inhibit the rationality of everyone in the room.

The world was ending and each one there found a different poetic meaning for the situation.

Luther found his in his wife, Klaus clung to his father's plans and lived that night not as the last, but as the beginning of something, just like Ben. Viktor found his in the peace that existed in the idea of - finally - putting an end to that drama of apocalypses, which followed him from timeline to timeline.

For Five Hargreeves, his poetic meaning was you.

His eyes were heavy and his mind light, but he would have to be completely blind for not recognize that, whenever he looked in your direction, you were the most breathtaking girl of the universe.

Would he stop venerate you as a goddess? No.

He stood there for a few seconds, next to someone he didn't care who it was, his eyes completely mesmerized on you. Like you was the most dangerous siren at sea, and he was just a sailor totally at your mercy.

Your body, trapped in that fucking maddening red silk gown, was covered in a fine mist of sweat that lit your skin like pirate treasure. Your hair was unruly and coming out of hairstyle, but the strands that fell under the lap of your breasts took his breath away. It should be considered a cardinal sin the way your body was moving, and Five would have dropped to his knees for you if he could spend eternity there, watching you dance.

“I don't think I've ever seen you look like that.” It sounded like Klaus' voice, but Five didn't want to take his eyes off you to check it out.

“I don't have any expression on my face.” He said the first thing that came to his mind, even though he didn't believe his own words.

How could anyone keep a complacent expression when you looked like that? So miraculous that Five questioned his sanity. There was something about you that kept him wrapped around your finger, so fervently in love, whipped with just one look you gave him. Your image was like a renaissance miracle, a glimpse novelists had of paradise.

God sure was a woman…because there was no explanation for you being so divinely beautiful.

“she’s just…wow”

Klaus must have said something, but Five didn't deign to pay attention, his concentration too focused on the way your body moved, the sway of your hips that moved his ocean. Your every move was a tsunami on his sea, every twirl was a rotation on his Earth, you were shaking Five's entire existence and didn't even notice.

You may have fallen in love with him first, but he fell in love hardest.

That's when your eyes met his, in a fatal connection that made Five's soul tingle. Your smile was the second shot at his sanity, and at that moment, at a stupid wedding, Hargreeves wondered why the hell he never made an event like this be a moment of the two of you?

Why did he never ask you to marry him?

And in that second, watching you dance with Viktor, he found no reason not to.

Fuck it.

With each step Five took toward you, charged with purpose, the more the sense of certainty inside him grew, like a thunderous sound.

“I'm going to have to steal the most beautiful woman of the night.'' Five told his brother, who tried to hide his laughter at his drunken, uninhibited state.

A delicious flush crept up your cheeks, coloring your skin to a shy tinge that made Five want to run his tongue at the maddening color.

“All yours” Viktor was still trying not to laugh as he handed you to his night-black-haired brother.

“Come cuddle.” Five's drunk voice teased you as he pulled you as close to him as he could.

“You know that the most beautiful woman of the night is a bride, don't you?” it was your first speech as you settled youself with his warm, masculine, possessive hand on the small of your back.

“Not for me.” His voice brushed your jaw, lowering to your neck as if Five were inhaling the scent of your soul. “Never for me.”

Five was drunk, you knew that, he smelled like expensive whisky and masculine cologne, but there was something about his sincerity abounding in his drunkenness that made your heart pound. Hargreeves could be very good at hiding his feelings on a day-to-day basis, but that fell apart when alcohol drowned out his demons.

Was that what he thought whenever he looked at you? That you were the most beautiful woman, in every single night? Did he look at you with that oblique glow and in his mind he secretly venerate you?

You've never wanted a positive response so much in your life, because that's exactly how you feel about him. Your heart has long had the name 'Five Hargreeves' tattooed in red-hot iron, and the wish you've asked the shooting stars is that yours would also be tattooed on Five's heart too.

it wasn't too much to ask...

“I love the way you smell.” You buried your nose in his neck, letting the male body rock you completely, just not touching you with both hands because he held a bottle of whisky in his left.

Five let out a sound that could be described as disbelieving laughter. "i've been drinking for hours."

“But I can still smell your real scent.” You joked, reaching up to the back of his head whit your hands.

Hargreeves rummaged his shoulders, in a way to draw your attention to his face, pulling your eyes from your favorite hiding place. When you did, there were so many emotions pouring out of the blue Egyptian eyes that made your soul shivered.

“What do I smell like?” A question so innocent, pure, almost childish, but one that was able to quicken your pulse as quickly as a wildfire.

There was no hesitation in your voice as you replied: “Home.”

A hot feeling licked Five from head to toe, shaking his structures and revoking all the foundations of his life. It should be a crime for you to say such things. It should be a crime for you to be so beautiful that it physically hurt. It should be a crime to be that passionate for you. So, whit his chest sinking with overwhelming emotions and feelings, Hargreeves made the only coherent decision: he kissed you.

Kissed you because his ribcage would explode if he didn't. Kissed you because every cell in his body screamed that no longer belonged to him, but to you.

Mine, mine, mine. That's what Five thought as drowned the sins on your heavenly lips.

“I want to marry you.” His voice was still swallowed by your lips, because he refused to pull away.

"But..." one more kiss ''we already...'' one more kiss ''we're married.''

"No." the firmness in his voice shook your heart  “I want a stupid wedding like this stupid event. I want to hear the idiotic speeches of my father and my siblings, and say that I want this hell to end when in fact I'm reveling in the fact that everyone is gathered just to see my wife. Because i love you god damnit! '' his statement left no space for a answer, because Five swallowed your breath with another incendiary kiss “I want to see you in white, and recite silly vows when in fact my love for you is much more than these ready-made words. I want to give you my last name, keep you by my side as the only Mrs. Hargreeves… I want… why the fuck have I never asked you to marry me before?!”

Five couldn't tell if you were crying or smiling, but he was relieved by the tight way you were holding him. Of course it wasn't the best of statements, he was never good with sentimental shit, but something in the way you looked at him shocked said he said something very right.

“I should propose to you in a better way.” His speech was cut off by a hiccup from the alcohol. “fucking hell…'' his gaze wandered slowly across the room and stopped at the stage, where Ben and Klaus were singing some horrible bullshit ''I already know…'' his drunk mind went back to you again ''I'll sing for you.''

Your laughter overcame the tears, and the automatic question left your mouth. “Why,babe?’’

"Because I want to make a decent proposal, give you something more worth telling people about later."

You were going to say a thousand things, but Five cut you off by the look in your eyes "How am I supposed to spoil you when you wont accept my gifts?”

Five Hargreeves didn't give you a chance to argue, didn't give you a second to recover from a breathtaking statement, and you felt like crying in anger at yourself when he was already away from you, on his way to the stage. You wanted to say that you loved him from the first second, that you worshiped him more than the Greeks worship Zeus. You didn't need a proposal, a big wedding, a official celebration, you always knew you were his wife. And you wanted him to know that too, wanted him to understand that, nothing he wasn't ready to do, you would push him to do. His reserved and sour nature wasn't a problem and you were always completely happy with what you had. Because that meant having Five on your side.

You've never considered yourself a big fan of such public displays of affection, you've always found proposal in open spaces and with people around cheesy, but...but the way Five smiled at you on that stage, microphone in hand and bottle of alcohol in another, it made you question all your tastes in life. That scene was worth it

The truth was, Five would hang the moon in the sky for you, and you'd do anything to keep that love and happiness in his eyes whenever he looked your way.

[worldhistoryfacts]

Let's take a look at the Qianlong Emperor of China, who ruled for 61 years in the 1700s. Some of the most memorable paintings of him were created by a missionary from Milan, the Jesuit brother Guiseppe Castiglione (Jesuit missionaries had been advisors to several Qing emperors). Castiglione’s art combined elements of traditional Chinese court painting and European techniques of the Renaissance and Baroque periods. As a result, these are some of the most interesting and lifelike images we have of a Chinese ruler. 

Here’s the emperor as a young man, having just taken the throne a year prior, looking at the viewer with a direct yet serene gaze. This is a man born to power, and comfortable with it:

Another portrait from the same year, 1736, shows him on the throne, in full imperial regalia.

Here’s a painting made in 1758 of the emperor as a middle-aged man, mounted in his ceremonial armor.

{WHF} {Ko-Fi} {Medium}

[cricketnationrise]

For the ficlet fest: 12:00 a.m. the V & A, Alex Claremont-Diaz

Wrote this on my phone at work so please forgive any mistakes! Yes we are working on a Saturday. yes I hate it thanks. but at least I can disappear into ficlet prompts for a bit over lunch :) hope you like it, I went so sappy I might as well have been a forest for this one

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

12:00am, v&a

“Thanks so much for your help, Gavin.”

“Of course, Mr. Claremont Diaz. Anything for you or His Highness, you know that.”

“I thought I said you could call me Alex,” he teases. “And I’m very sure he’s told you to call him Henry.”

“Force of habit I’m afraid,” Gavin says ruefully. “I’ll let you do the finishing touches and send him right along when Her Royal Highness drops him off.”

Alex sends Gavin off with a decidedly sloppy salute before turning back to the space with a proud grin, overwhelmed with what they accomplished over the last few hours.

Renaissance City is always beautiful, always takes his breath away each time Henry brings him here. There’s something special about the statues and the history represented in this room. But mostly, Alex loves that Henry loves it. Admittedly, Alex usually gets distracted by Henry’s beauty, so it’s nice to stand here alone for a moment and soak in both the exhibit and his additions.

The little battery candles he and Gavin scattered around make the whole place glow, the automated flickering lending a sense of magic to the scene. The flowers Pez had convinced the museum to allow are spilling over every surface, their light fragrance perfuming the air. And woven through the petals, illuminated by the candles, hanging from the ceiling, some decoratively framed, are strips of paper, in a rainbow of colors and a variety of weights — each with a quote that Alex painstakingly copied by hand. Quotes from their now-famous emails, from his and Henry’s speeches over the years. Quotes solicited from family members — and friends so close they might as well be blood. Quotes from Henry himself, whispered and crooned and sometimes yelled at Alex, etched into Alex’s memory. Quotes pulled from history and movies and books — Henry’s favorites.

The only words not displayed, in fact, are the ones Alex has been painstakingly crafting, agonizing over, starting and restarting, practicing every spare minute he’s alone, hoarding them for the perfect moment — for tonight.

Historically, Henry’s been the wordier half of their relationship, even his scattered post it notes are more eloquent than Alex without even trying. Alex can write with feeling and sincerity, but it doesn’t come naturally — he’s always been better out loud, or with actions. Henry’s never complained, never even intimated that he wants more written words from Alex, but—

Alex wants to give him all the words in his head, in his heart, in his very soul. He wants Henry to be able to have that written record. He wants future students and historians and random people on the internet to be able to look back after he’s gone and say holy shit Alex Claremont Diaz loved Henry Fox Mountchristen Windsor with awe — wants to carve out a piece of history with his love for Henry as the chisel.

And then Alex can hear footsteps — slow, deliberate heels against the shiny marble floors — echoing softly as they approach the entrance. Alex recites the opening of his speech in his head, feels for the ring in his pocket, and faces the entrance.

His heart, which had been racing with each step, suddenly slows with sure contentment at the sight of blonde hair and sky blue eyes that go wide when they see Alex inside the bedecked splendor of Renaissance City.

“Alex…”

Alex beams as Henry looks around in awe, takes a deep breath, and gives Henry his words.

[lesyoussoupoff]

"The Grand Duke and the Grand Duchess Vladimir spent their summers at Tsarskoe Selo. The Grand Duchess had the graceful bearing of a great lady of the Renaissance. She was born a Princess of Mecklenburg-Schwerin, and ranked immediately after the two Empresses. She was very able and intelligent and carried out all the duties of her position with perfect tact. She was always very kind to me, and was much entertained by accounts of my adventures. For a long time, I was in love with her daughter the Grand Duchess Helen Vladimirovna, later Princess Nicholas of Greece, whose beauty fascinated me. She had the loveliest eyes imaginable, and everyone fell under their charm." -Prince Felix Youssoupoff, Lost Splendor

[visit-new-york]

Meadow near 91st and Central Park West

Meadow near 91st and Central Park West

Central Park West, often abbreviated as CPW, is a prominent and prestigious avenue located along the western edge of Central Park in Manhattan, New York City. It is one of the city's most iconic and sought-after residential addresses, known for its historical significance, architectural grandeur, and cultural importance. Here are some key details about Central Park West:

Location: Central Park West runs parallel to Central Park, starting at 59th Street in the south and extending to 110th Street (also known as Cathedral Parkway) in the north. It forms the western boundary of Central Park and offers stunning views of the park's landscape.

Historical Significance: Central Park West is lined with a diverse array of architectural styles and historic buildings, many of which date back to the late 19th and early 20th centuries. It is often considered a showcase of New York City's architectural history.

Architectural Diversity: Along Central Park West, you'll find a mix of architectural styles, including Beaux-Arts, Renaissance Revival, Art Deco, and more. Notable buildings include The Dakota, The San Remo, The Eldorado, and The Beresford, all of which are famous for their architectural splendor and the notable residents who have called them home.

Cultural Institutions: Central Park West is home to several renowned cultural institutions, including the American Museum of Natural History, one of the largest and most prestigious natural history museums in the world. The Museum of Arts and Design (MAD) and the New-York Historical Society are also located along this avenue.

Residential Prestige: Central Park West has long been associated with luxury living. The buildings along this avenue often feature spacious apartments with park views, elegant pre-war details, and a high level of service. Many notable individuals, including celebrities and business moguls, have chosen to reside in this area.

Transportation: Central Park West is well-connected to the rest of Manhattan via public transportation. It is served by several subway lines, including the A, B, C, D, and 1 trains, making it relatively easy to access other parts of the city.

Scenic Beauty: Residents and visitors of Central Park West enjoy breathtaking views of Central Park, with its lush greenery, serene lakes, and iconic landmarks. The proximity to the park provides a sense of tranquility and natural beauty amidst the bustling city.

Cultural and Entertainment Events: Due to its proximity to Central Park and its cultural institutions, Central Park West is often a focal point for cultural and entertainment events, including parades, concerts, and film screenings.

Real Estate: Real estate along Central Park West is highly sought after and can command some of the highest prices in the city. The area is known for its co-op and condominium buildings, each with its own unique character and charm.

Historic Preservation: Many of the buildings along Central Park West are designated as New York City landmarks or are part of historic districts, ensuring their preservation and protection. This commitment to preserving the architectural heritage of the avenue contributes to its enduring charm.

Cultural Impact: Central Park West has been featured prominently in literature, film, and television, further cementing its status as an iconic New York City location. The Dakota, in particular, gained worldwide fame as the residence of John Lennon and Yoko Ono and was the site of Lennon's tragic shooting in 1980.

Parks and Recreation: In addition to Central Park itself, the avenue offers access to several smaller parks and green spaces, making it a desirable place for residents who value outdoor activities and leisure.

Educational Institutions: Central Park West is also home to some educational institutions, including the Fiorello H. LaGuardia High School of Music & Art and Performing Arts, renowned for its performing arts programs.

Shopping and Dining: The avenue features a mix of upscale shops, restaurants, and cafes, offering residents and visitors a range of dining and shopping options within walking distance.

Central Park West Parades: Central Park West is a popular route for parades and processions in New York City. One of the most famous parades is the annual Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, which passes through this avenue on its way to Herald Square.

Transportation Hub: Central Park West provides convenient access to various transportation options, making it easy for residents to explore other parts of Manhattan and beyond. It's also a popular location for taxi and rideshare pick-ups.

Community and Neighborhood: The avenue is surrounded by vibrant neighborhoods, including the Upper West Side and Morningside Heights. These neighborhoods offer a mix of cultural attractions, dining, and shopping options that enhance the quality of life for those living on or near Central Park West.

In summary, Central Park West is a quintessential New York City avenue known for its historical significance, architectural beauty, cultural institutions, and luxurious residential offerings. It provides residents and visitors with a unique blend of urban living and access to the natural beauty and cultural richness of Central Park.

Central Park West remains a symbol of New York City's cultural and architectural richness, offering a blend of history, luxury, and natural beauty. Whether you're strolling along the avenue, enjoying the views of Central Park, or exploring the cultural institutions and dining options, Central Park West provides a unique and enriching experience in the heart of Manhattan.

[haveyouplayedthisirlgame-poll]

Splendor is a card-based board game where players play as Renaissance-era gem merchants, developing mines, transportation, and shops to accumulate prestige points.

[howtomuslim]

Unveiling the Splendor of Education in Islam

Education stands as a radiant cornerstone in the profound mosaic of Islamic teachings. Rooted deeply within the faith’s tenets, it transcends boundaries, inviting all to bask in its luminance and witness its transformative prowess.

The Quranic Beacon: “Read in the Name of Your Lord” In the heart of Islamic scripture lies an illuminating verse, “Read in the name of your Lord who created.” This divine injunction (Quran 96:1) ignites a fervent pursuit of knowledge. It symbolizes the intrinsic value Islam places upon education, urging every soul to seek enlightenment.

The Dawn of Islamic Learning: Maktab and Literacy 

History heralds Islam as a torchbearer of literacy. Early Muslims established ‘maktab’ systems, pioneering widespread education. The commitment to learning and literacy took root, distinguishing Islam as the harbinger of accessible knowledge.

Interwoven Communities: Toledo and Knowledge Exchange 

The intermingling of Muslim and Christian cultures in cities like Toledo, a city half of whose population was comprised of Christians, showcased the magnetic allure of Islamic knowledge. European scholars flocked to these centers, drawn by the brilliance of Muslim education. This fusion birthed an era of cultural exchange, enriching both civilisations as while the Muslims were living in peace and enrichment, the Europeans were living in the dark ages. The benefits of this age transcend far beyond Muslim Spain, influencing our lives today far more than we may be aware.

The Flourishing Oases: Cordoba’s Universities and Madrasas 

Cordoba, the jewel of Muslim Spain, birthed illustrious universities and madrasas. Despite being a minority, Muslims cultivated an intellectual renaissance. Their dedication to education and vibrant propagation of Islamic values captivated the masses, leading to widespread conversion over time.

The Timeless Legacy: Beautifying Islam through Knowledge 

The allure of education within Islam continues to cast its spell, transcending time and place. Its radiant legacy perpetuates a beautiful narrative of enlightenment, beckoning individuals from all walks of life to embrace its brilliance.

Education within Islam, illuminated by Quranic verses and enriched by historical precedents, stands as a testament to the faith’s commitment to enlightenment. Its beauty and transformative power serve as a beacon, drawing hearts and minds into the embrace of knowledge and understanding.

To learn more about Islam visit: Howtomuslim.org

[paramedicabroad]

Kronborg Castle

Welcome, fellow adventurers, to the majestic Kronborg Castle, a UNESCO World Heritage site nestled on the picturesque shores of Denmark. Join us as we journey through the rich history, architectural grandeur, and cultural significance of this iconic fortress that has captured the imagination of visitors for centuries.

In 2000, Kronborg Castle was inscribed as a UNESCO World Heritage site, recognizing its exceptional universal value and cultural significance. This prestigious designation honors the castle's unique blend of architectural excellence, historical importance, and artistic influence, ensuring its preservation for future generations to admire and explore.

Perched on the northeastern tip of the island of Zealand, Kronborg Castle stands as a symbol of Denmark's rich cultural heritage and maritime power. With its imposing ramparts, elegant spires, and strategic location overlooking the Øresund Strait, this magnificent Renaissance fortress has played a central role in Danish history since its construction in the early 15th century.

Kronborg Castle's fame extends far beyond Denmark's borders, thanks in part to its association with William Shakespeare's renowned tragedy, Hamlet. Inspired by the castle's atmospheric setting, Shakespeare immortalized Kronborg as the fictional Elsinore, forever linking the fortress to one of the greatest literary works in history.

As you step through the gates of Kronborg Castle, you'll be transported back in time to an era of kings, queens, and courtly intrigue. Marvel at the castle's impressive Renaissance architecture, from its towering turrets and fortified walls to its opulent chambers and ornate ballrooms, each telling a tale of Denmark's royal past.

Throughout its history, Kronborg Castle served as a formidable fortress, protecting the kingdom of Denmark from foreign invaders and asserting its dominance over the strategic Øresund Strait. From its commanding position overlooking the sea, the castle played a vital role in controlling maritime trade and safeguarding Danish sovereignty.

Today, Kronborg Castle continues to enchant visitors with its rich tapestry of cultural events and festivals. From theatrical performances of Hamlet in the castle's atmospheric courtyard to vibrant medieval markets and music concerts, there's always something exciting happening within the castle's storied walls, offering a glimpse into Denmark's vibrant cultural scene.

Beyond its historic interiors, Kronborg Castle invites you to explore its sprawling grounds and scenic surroundings. Take a leisurely stroll along the castle ramparts for panoramic views of the Øresund Strait, wander through the castle's lush gardens and courtyards, or venture into the underground casemates and dungeons for a spine-tingling experience.

So come, dear travelers, and immerse yourself in the history, beauty, and intrigue of Kronborg Castle. Whether you're admiring its architectural splendor, delving into its royal past, or simply enjoying the breathtaking views of the Danish coast, you're sure to be captivated by the timeless charm and UNESCO World Heritage status of this iconic Danish landmark. 🏰🇩🇰

[cuties-in-codices]

alchemical 'hermaphrodite' holding a mirror and an egg

in an illuminated alchemical manuscript, "splendor solis", augsburg, ca. 1545

source: Nürnberg, Germ. Nationalmuseum, Hs 146766, fol. 15v

[thetelesterion]

i LOVE classical architecture. I love it so much. I love the forms, the shapes, the connections between Roman/Greek buildings and the gods they worshipped. The symbolism, the iconography, the awe inspiring splendor. It's something I will always be drawn to. I want new classical buildings, but without the drab, boring, monochromatic look that most neoclassical buildings have. I want COLOR! I want reds, blues, yellows! Neoclassical architecture needs a renaissance, but it needs the color and life breathed back into it.

[ancientorigins]

Embark on a riveting journey through the pages of history as we unravel the extraordinary saga of the Abbasid Caliphate – a majestic empire that soared to unimaginable heights during the Islamic Golden Age. From the bloodthirsty Abu Abbas as-Saffah, the first caliph of the Abbasid Caliphate, to the legendary Harun al-Rashid, whose cultural brilliance has turned him into the most famous of the Abbasid rulers.

This epic tale spans over 500 years of ascendancy, unraveling and resilience. Experience the cultural renaissance under the visionary Harun al-Rashid, who dreamt of making the Abbasid Caliphate a global center for arts and learning. The establishment of the Grand Library of Baghdad, the House of Wisdom, became a beacon for knowledge preservation. However, as we delve deeper, witness the political intrigues, civil wars and the inevitable decline leading to the poignant end of an era.

The epic tale concludes with the tragic fall of Baghdad in 1258, marking the end of the Abbasid Caliphate. Yet, the legacy lives on, leaving an indelible mark on science, philosophy, and the arts, echoing through the corridors of time.

[herbeloved82]

I'm a Father

Il Cimitero di San Michele. 

A whole island designed as the place of eternal rest for many who, through the long centuries of its history, were born and died in Venice. It is a beautiful and peaceful place, built in the nineteenth century, last home for musicians and writers, politicians and heroes. It also embraced those who died under the care of another long before.

On the island, in a remote place, surrounded by flowers and the gentle lulling of the sea, was a chapel, built with the greatest care. The architects tasked to recreate the beauty and splendor of the Venetian Renaissance did an amazing job, and every day, hundreds of tourists wondered who could rest in such a beautiful place. 

Princesses of old times, perhaps? Side by side with their princes, lying together for eternity after life made it impossible for them to live out their days in love. That was one of the stories that people loved to think was true. 

Others would think about the Doges and their families. Could it be that in the cold embrace of the marble long lost secret lovers of the most prominent figures of Venice laid to rest, their names forgotten, condemned to silence and oblivion because of their sinful desires? 

People nowadays would invent such frivolous tales to escape the monotony of their lives, but all the theories he heard in their minds were so far off, he sometimes would allow a small, sad smile to curve the corner of his mouth. No one was even close to the truth and perhaps that too was okay. 

Every year, someone visits the marble chapel, usually to clean and tidy. One day every year there would be different flowers outside and inside. Where white roses and lilies once decorated,  branches of lilac now swayed in the gentle wind. 

If anyone were curious enough to find out why, they would learn that lilacs represented youthful innocence, but also rebirth and remembrance. Today would be that day in the Year of Our Lord, 2023, but something would change and be different, perhaps only for once, or maybe for eternity.  

***      

The sunset was beautiful, like always in Venice. The dying sun kissed the water with its last goodbye, coloring it with the shades of orange and pink. Breathtaking many would say, but today Marius was distracted. He wasn’t the artist who always chased beauty and perfection, or the Prime Minister tasked with keeping the brat prince in line -- even if, he had to admit, lately Lestat was behaving splendidly. Oh the power of love and having Louis back by his side really did miracles for him. 

No, tonight Marius was just a man, one among many. One who walked the busy streets of the city looking for a small shop, one that was just a hole in the wall, and unlike the others was still open, waiting. 

The small bell rang the moment Marius opened and closed the door behind himself. His senses were assaulted by the delicate smell of flowers of different kinds. The old lady behind the counter looked timeless, like the shop. Her face was mapped by wrinkles and her long, white hair spoke of someone who lived a long life and felt too many losses to let it go. 

She smiled when she saw Marius. 

“Buonasera, Signore. You are back for another year.” She greeted him like Marius was an old friend with whom she shared many secrets, and who could say what they talked about in the long years they had known each other? It didn’t matter they only met once a year, in that very same shop. 

“Buonasera Antonia.” He answered in perfect Italian, with a small smile to deliver his words. 

“You never change, Marius. It’s good to see you again.” 

Marius was the one who taught her English. She had wanted to learn for the business, or at least that was what she told him, and Marius agreed because he was a teacher to the core and it didn’t matter who was in front of him. She had been an eager student, like Bianca had been, in the very same city, centuries before. 

“It’s good to see you too, my old friend.” 

Many times Marius had thought about taking her into the blood, but he never did, for Antonia was special. She never wanted what Marius had to offer, be that money and wealth, or the dark gift. She knew what he was. She realized it on the third anniversary of their meeting. Three years after her mother died and she took over the shop, as the women in the family had done for generations.  

The shop had been in their family for centuries now, and every woman of their bloodline knew the story of how, when the cemetery opened, a gentleman came to them asking for lilacs and only that, becoming their patron and best clients.  

Antonia had thought it was just a story, but after three years of seeing Marius entering the shop with the same request, she knew. 

“I wish it could be under better circumstances. You are always so sad when you come to me.” 

And wasn’t that true? Since the first time Marius had walked into her shop, he had been the saddest person Antonia had ever met. She felt, since the beginning, a connection to this strange man who only wanted lilac as a contrast to the everyday maintenance of the tomb he required, when only white flowers would fill the vases in front of the entrance. No one was ever allowed inside the chapel. Antonia asked only once who was resting there and the answer still hurt her. 

“They are always with me, but today I remember the day I’ve lost them.” Marius answered in a  somber voice as Antonia prepared twelve bunches of lilacs to give Marius. 

“And yet you are different this year. Has something happened?” She asked when Marius wasn’t looking at her, busy signing a check that would cover a year worth of flowers and years in a retirement home, for when she would finally decide to step back and leave the business in her daughter’s hands. 

Marius looked at her, just a quick questioning glance. How could she, a mere human, realize he wasn’t feeling himself today? No one, not even the eldest among them, realized the turmoil he felt inside since he woke up. At first Marius thought it was just because of the day. Through the centuries he had felt many emotions on this day, but something inside told him this wasn’t the case. 

For hours now he felt a sense of doom, the paralyzing fear of knowing his life was going to be destroyed all over again, turned upside down, and there was nothing he could do. Not all changes are an act of destruction. He reminded himself, and yet he couldn’t remember a single time since the night of the fire in which changes didn’t mean doom in his experience.  

“You know you don’t have to give me so much. It’s not -” Antonia’s voice brought him back to reality and he only gave her a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes and a nod of his head. Too little for someone who once again had been an anchor in the storm of his thoughts. 

“You take care of my children’s home for me all year long, dear Antonia. You deserve the world for your kindness.” 

Marius left in a rush, to hide the red tears pooling in his eyes. Even if she knew what he was, it didn’t mean he wanted to make her uncomfortable. He was already walking the bridge that would take him to the island when he heard her last words. 

“I hope, my friend, that your love will come back to you.” 

This time a tear escaped the prison of his long lashes. 

***  

Marius walked among the long rows of graves and tombstones. His light steps did nothing to disturb the quiet of the place and yet he knew he didn’t belong there.

This was a place of peace and rest and his mere presence was an offense to those who rested there. He who denied death herself time and time again. Who walked among humans without being one. Preying upon them as a beast, an abomination to the eyes of Gods he never believed in. He had no place here, as he had no place with humans. He only belonged to the darkness and the Court, where he could be himself, always, save that one day when he belonged to the island. 

The path was branded in his memory and even without his powers, Marius would be able to walk it with his eyes closed. The gorgeous building appeared in front of him, majestic and silent, welcoming Marius home. The gate opened, under his mind powers and Marius stepped into the chapel, where only he was allowed. 

There, on the walls, the names of his children, carved in the marble, filled with gold. By each name a vase that was filled with lilacs. 

Marius brushed his long fingers over every letter. For every name he whispered a single Te amo, fili mi. 

There, in the darkness, sheltered by the world in the place of eternal peace where his children rested, Marius cried for everything that was taken from him, for all the love he wished he could have given them during their life, for the way they had been taken from this world by malice and hate. 

Marius was many things, but tonight he was just a father. A father of murdered sons, who still lived in his heart since that day. He was the carrier of their memories, the only one who remembered their names and the sound of their voices he was… 

“Master, please can I come home? Please Master, allow me to come home.” A beloved voice said and for a moment Marius couldn’t believe his ears, but when he looked up, his eyes still clouded by red tears, there he was, his Amadeo, his dearest Armand. Without a word he opened his arms to welcome him and in a moment, after centuries, he was once again holding the most precious of all creatures. The one he loved above everything else.  

If Marius thought he heard giggling voices, like light silver bells, he knew it was because his children were smiling at him from where they were resting now. 

END 

[nourfathallah]

Celestial Glamour: Nour Fathallah's Evening Gowns that Dazzle Under the Stars

In the realm of fashion, where style meets celestial splendor, Nour Fathallah has emerged as a luminary designer, capturing the essence of the night sky in her exquisite evening gowns. This article delves into the celestial glamour that defines her creations, with a special focus on the allure of long evening gowns that enchant under the stars.

Celestial Glamour in Fashion

As trends in fashion evolve, celestial-themed designs have taken the industry by storm. From twinkling stars to ethereal galaxies, fashionistas are embracing the cosmic allure in their wardrobes. Nour Fathallah stands out in this celestial renaissance, infusing her evening gowns with a touch of the cosmos. The interplay of celestial elements in her designs adds a captivating dimension to the world of high fashion.

Nour Fathallah's Signature Style

Nour Fathallah's designs are characterized by their unique blend of sophistication and celestial mystique. The careful craftsmanship and attention to detail in each gown reflect the designer's dedication to creating wearable works of art. With a focus on intricate beading, celestial patterns, and flowing silhouettes, Fathallah's evening gowns are a testament to her distinctive signature style.

The Allure of Evening Dresses

Long evening gowns have always held a special place in the realm of formal attire. The graceful flow of the fabric, combined with the celestial embellishments, creates a captivating allure. These gowns are not merely garments; they are statements of elegance, designed to make a lasting impression at any evening soirée. Nour Fathallah's creations, in particular, elevate the allure of evening dresses to new heights.

Versatility for Weddings

When it comes to choosing the perfect attire for weddings, the search for the ideal evening dress can be both exciting and challenging. Nour Fathallah's celestial-themed gowns offer a versatile and enchanting option for brides and wedding guests alike. The incorporation of celestial elements adds a touch of magic to the wedding festivities, making these gowns a popular choice for those seeking celestial glamour on their special day.

Embracing Sleeved Elegance

For those who appreciate a touch of modesty and timeless elegance, long evening gowns with sleeves have become a sought-after choice. Nour Fathallah understands the allure of sleeved dresses, seamlessly integrating sleeves into her celestial-inspired designs. The result is a collection that not only dazzles under the stars but also caters to those who prefer a more covered yet stylish look.

Navigating the Options

Whether it's a grand gala or an intimate gathering, Fathallah's collection offers a diverse range of options for women seeking the perfect party dress. From sleek and form-fitting to flowing and ethereal, the designer's repertoire encompasses styles that suit various preferences. The celestial glamour is not confined to a singular look, allowing fashion enthusiasts to explore and find the gown that resonates with their style.

Conclusion

In conclusion, Nour Fathallah's evening gowns stand as celestial works of art, captivating hearts with their enchanting designs. From the allure of long evening gowns to the versatility for weddings and the embrace of sleeved elegance, her collection caters to the diverse preferences of the modern woman. As we navigate the vast options in the world of fashion, Fathallah's celestial glamour continues to shine bright, reminding us that fashion is not just about attire; it's about creating moments of magic under the stars.