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Sans Stops Sleeping

To Sleep In The Sea Of Time

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling
man_of_culture3030 · 695.6K Views

She's My Sleeping Pill

15 years ago, his elder brother was killed right in front of him in the middle of the night – killed by their most trusted driver. Since then, Stefan had a hard time sleeping and often got nightmares. He learned not to trust anyone. Cayenne worked almost all day and all night. She only got three hours of sleep every day. She was the breadwinner of their family since her mother was diagnosed with tuberculosis. She thought she would have a great time working as a receptionist in a hotel. Until… “I’ll pay you an additional $3000 a month. Sleep with me.” Stefan placed a signed check on the table in front of her. Her head was spinning at the large sum of money. She can finally buy her mother’s medication and send her brothers to school without worry. But to sleep with him? “I’m sorry if I come off rude but, I can’t sleep with you sir.” She tried to refuse politely, afraid that she will lose her job if he felt displease towards her. Stefan took off his coat and placed on the backrest of his chair. “Think about my offer carefully. It wasn’t so bad sleeping with you after all.” It was a mistake she made on her part when she fell asleep right beside him on his bed, drunk and dizzy. Will he make the mistake of trusting someone again? Will he entrust his life to her by sleeping soundly beside her? How will they face each other when they started to unveil the mystery of their identities? ***cover isn’t mine***edited by a friend***I don’t earn anything from this picture*** Original cover was taken from Mr Love: Queen's Choice Related videos and pictures can be seen in Koi to Producer: EVOL×LOVE
_frieyaVida · 2.7M Views

I Am Who Will Transcends Everything Even the Heaven can't stop me

Thong was but an ordinary young man, dwelling in a remote and rustic village far removed from the bustling cities of the world. His father, the man he cherished above all, had always been the guiding light in his life. Though their bond was unbreakable, his father was plagued by a relentless illness that slowly drained the vitality from his body. Day by day, the malady gnawed away at him until, at last, the inevitable came—his father succumbed to its grip. In the wake of his father’s passing, the family’s modest inheritance was cruelly seized by his elder sister, a woman of great power and renown in the nation. She was a prominent figure in the realms of business and influence, her name commanding respect and fear alike. Yet, her heart harbored no love for their father. She took for herself everything their father had intended to share between his children, leaving Thong with nothing but despair. Wrath burned within him, fierce and unrelenting. In the depths of his anguish, he resolved upon an act most unthinkable. Ignoring the weight of law and morality, Thong took his sister’s life. He struck her down amidst her lavish comforts, her husband falling to his blade as well. The joyous life she had built crumbled in an instant, ended by her own brother’s hand. With his deed done, Thong fled to the humble village of his birth, retreating to the small hut where he had grown up. There, he waited in silence, awaiting the retribution that he knew would come. Those he had slain were figures of immense power; he was certain their allies would hunt him down without mercy. Thong sat within the confines of his hut, his heart heavy yet calm. He closed his eyes, resigned to his fate, but as moments passed, something unfathomable occurred. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself in a place entirely unfamiliar. The decrepit hut he had known was gone, replaced by a dwelling of intricate craftsmanship and resplendent beauty. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of pine and the faint hum of spiritual energy. Surrounding him was a mountain peak cloaked in thick mist, the heavens above painted with a brilliance he had never seen. His body felt different—stronger, lighter, brimming with an unearthly vitality. Slowly, he came to realize the truth: he was no longer in his own world. Somehow, he had crossed into another realm, one that bore a striking resemblance to the fantastical cultivation tales he had once devoured with fervor. Thong stood there, staring into the endless sky, his heart pounding with both fear and awe. This was a world of immortals, of boundless power and untold possibilities. His journey, it seemed, was only just beginning.
The_Ancestor_ · 7.7K Views
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