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kyndredravenstories · 8 months ago

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Eyes of Infinity: Delirium Chapter 1

Hello, I have been posting my work on AO3 and recently decided to venture here to Tumblr. Please note: This story is 18+. No minors. Please read tags carefully. Link to AO3 below but I will also be posting the chapters here.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53564641/chapters/148132144

Pairing: Sylus/Female MC with some elements of Xavier/Female MC

Genre: Romance, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Adventure, Smut, Porn with Big Plot and Big Feelings

Content Warning (For the entire fic): Explicit sexual content, spoilers and alterations to existing lore and cards/memories/tender moments/secret times, size kink, size difference, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, anal sex, fingering, all kinds of fingering, elements of consensual somno, dom!Sylus, jealousy, possessive!Sylus, Mephisto stalking, typical game violence, battle and combat

Summary: To love him meant stepping over the threshold and crossing into darkness. To be with him meant accepting the lure of the shadows. And to protect him from betrayal meant sacrifice. I knew not how, only that I would not let time sever our paths ever again.

"Trapped in the abyss, I long for you in this delirium. There's so much to say, but I'm silent. Too much time has passed since I held you, and now I fear that my love will just break you. So, into the darkness I go to protect you. Yet, no matter where I roam or how far I fall, half of my heart is always with you. "

Wrong place. Wrong time. Wrong people. Wrong everything.

Wrong wrong wrong.

I never should have volunteered to go on this trip!

Over and over, that mantra loops in my mind, cranking up the pressure of my rising anger so tight that my teeth grind together painfully. Sulking in a petulant silence, I wrap the worn hotel quilt tighter around my shoulders to keep out the chill. The furnace is blasting, but it's not enough to warm me up after a thorough dousing in freezing rain.

I'm on high alert despite my misery. My gaze never strays from the man across from me on the narrow couch. Wariness and suspicion keep my back and shoulders tense even as I shiver in my sodden and frozen clothes. My eyes follow his long fingers as they absentmindedly manipulate the phone screen held between a pair of large hands.

Sharing the raggedy couch with me is none other than Sylus, though his demeanor is a far cry from mine. Despite the glowing and hissing Linkage wrapped like a manacle around his wrist, he sits with his legs crossed and his body relaxed. His blood red eyes take in a virtual Auction on the TV while his free hand makes sales and purchases on his phone.

A gun sits beside him on the armrest, but it doesn't concern me. This man needs no physical weapon to be terrifying. It is his Evol that's the true threat. That, and his ruthless and calculating nature. It's not a struggle to remember just how cruel and merciless he can be, even as he looks perfectly divine and statuesque while sitting still.

Yet, it's not his past or his reputation that has me wringing my hands and forcing myself to breathe deeply in order to stay calm.

It's an internal moral battle that has me on edge - one that's been tormenting me for months.

It's the struggle between knowing I am less than three feet away from the most dangerous man I've ever met and also admitting that I find him impossibly disturbingly attractive. Not just his looks. One doesn't need to have good vision to appreciate this man's allure. It's the conundrum that makes up all that he is.

A dangerous man who has taken lives many times before. A man that forced me to point a gun to his chest and shoot. A man whose mere name is enough to make monsters fall in line. Yet also, a man that's saved my life. A man who smiles at me and teases me. A man I've danced with on more than one pleasant occasion.

A bottomless, tempting, mystery.

Outside, a storm howls and thunders just like my thoughts. Periodic flashes break through the murky grey skies, each noise grinding on my nerves. I've had a bad day already; worse than bad. But, I dare not wonder how it could possibly get worse. That's what got me in trouble at the train station in the first place when I stepped out into a blizzard without any kind of weather gear to learn that the staff had misplaced my bags and luggage.

I'd wondered, then, how things could get worse.

Precisely one hour after, fate dropped this confounding man into my path. Then, precisely ten minutes after that, our Evols had locked us together.

With a crack of lightning, my patience snaps.

"Oi...Sylus..."

He doesn't look at me as he answers. "What is it?"

His voice is soft, like velvet; he sounds bored, though I'd never been able to read any of his thoughts or predict any of his actions.

I hate how calm he is.

I hate that despite running beneath the rain to make it to the hotel, he seems to be a lot more dry than me. His hair isn't dripping wet like mine, though his grey designer sweatshirt does cling to his muscular chest more than I'm comfortable observing.

I clear my throat.

"You've spent the last two hours calmly bidding on who knows what while we're trapped here. You've bought enough weapons to stock an armory. Just how the hell are you so relaxed?"

Still tapping away on his phone, Sylus maintains a calm and neutral expression. "It's not like there's anything I can do to remove this at the moment," he wiggles his Linked arm, tugging on my own manacle in the process.

I grind my teeth to the point of pain, forcing down my irritation as water drips from my hair onto the quilt. "Fine. Time for you to answer some questions, then."

"Ask away," he hums in that composed and arrogant tone that always riles me up. He sounds about as interested in this conversation as a tired Hunter recruit at orientation. And no wonder; despite the murky weather, it is only 2:00 PM. For Sylus, it's the middle of the night. He's likely exhausted, but I'm not feeling particularly empathetic at the moment.

"First question. I travel to the Arctic, 3688 kilometers away from the N109 Zone. I lose my luggage and get caught in a ferocious rainstorm on my way to the hotel. I then bump into you. Why?"

He finally glances at me, and my heart leaps into my throat when the emptiness in his crimson orbs twinkles with a hint of amusement. The corner of his full lips turns up just enough to transform his expression from annoyed to mildly entertained. On Sylus's face, this looks like a kind of hunger; like a hawk catching sight of a mouse.

"I'm also curious," he drawls, making me squirm in my seat. "I would have thought that the Hunter's Association would take better care of their employees."

I glare at his flippant reply, and he rests the side of his head gracefully on his hand, leaning against the nearby armrest.

"I don't often take vacations, and yet here I saw a familiar face. A lost little dove that needed my protection, if you will."

I huff, wrinkling my nose. "I already told you. I'm the farthest thing from a small animal that needs looking after, especially by a predator like you."

The amusement lingers in his gaze, and I press on.

"Second question. I'm here for a symposium with the Arctic Hunters in this hotel. What about you? Are you here to turn yourself in?"

"You didn't book the entire hotel. I have the money, and they had a vacant room. Why can't I stay here?"

His calm and steady logic sours my mood even farther. Seething now, I raise my Linked arm.

"Third question. Why does this blasted tether's duration increase every single time?" My anxiety eats away at my bravado, and my voice wavers. "What if it doesn't go away when the event starts later tonight?"

Sylus doesn't seem bothered by that prospect. He shrugs, his eyes fading back to those of a bored bystander. "We can go together. Probably."

I can't help it. I snort at his proposal. "Oh yeah, I should definitely introduce my Hunter friends to the renowned leader of Onychinus."

"All you can do is pray for divine intervention, then. Remember piety is key," he advises, his voice overflowing with sarcasm.

I give him a withering glare. "That's rich, coming from you."

Feeling defeated, I stare at the Evol Linkage that's impossible to cut. "This thing didn't bind us together for no reason. There has to be a way to break it."

Sylus tilts his head, frowning. "How? You were asleep the last two times it untethered itself. You even pinned down my arm. It was very inconvenient."

Heat rushes up into my cheeks at the memory. I try not to think about how close I've gotten to this man over the last half a year. To say he makes me uncomfortable is an understatement, mostly because it is not the kind of discomfort one feels when one is close to an enemy. Instead, it's the kind of feeling that makes it impossible to meet his gaze directly for too long. The kind of frustration that has my eyes lingering over his long-legged muscular form far too often.

I hate being close to him. Hate the way his hair, even when mussed, falls perfectly over the side of his face. Hate the sculpted line of his jaw and the attractive ridges and dips of his neck and his shoulders. My fingers squeeze into my palms, remembering how it felt to wrap measuring tape around him during our escapade in the boutique a few weeks back.

"You've been staring at me quietly for some time. Isn't there a fourth question coming?" He leans back against the pillows, and I have to wonder for the hundredth time whether this arrogant and sly man can actually read my mind.

"You have a point, Sylus," I concede. "What if we recreate the circumstances of when the Linkage disconnected itself? We should be able to figure out the trigger, right?"

Sylus glances at his phone, dismissing me. "That sounds more like superstition than science. Do you expect me to lull you to sleep?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

He lets out a short breath, rubbing a furrow between the wings of his graceful eyebrows. Pinching the bridge of his aquiline nose, he waves his hand in the air. Black mist rises up and swishes around the room, shutting all the blackout curtains and leaving us in near darkness. The only light remaining is a small desk lamp. He glances at me, curled up in my quilt as far from him as possible. His eyes glitter as he motions for me to come close.

"Alright, then, sweetie. Time for bed."

There's a sudden intimacy in his voice. It cuts me to the quick, stealing my breath and numbing my mind. I can hardly formulate an immediate response.

"I'll get water on you," I grumble, glad for the darkness; glad he can't see how red my face must be. That's another thing I hate. His pet names for me. At least, I try to hate them. Lately, hearing them makes my heart beat just a little faster.

"I'm not perfectly dry myself," he says, running a large hand down his chest.

"Still..."

"Then you should change. Unless you want to catch a cold."

"My luggage was lost, remember?" I wrap the quilt tighter around myself. "Besides, there's no way I can change while I'm chained to you."

I inwardly curse as I shiver again. This time, Sylus notices. His smile grows, and he gestures for me to approach again.

"Come on, kitten. Last time I checked, I'm not going to melt if I get some water on me." His voice deepens as he adds. "I'll even warm you up."

I squirm in my seat again, now entirely against moving anywhere near him. Something still hangs in the air between us, the same charged atmosphere that I experienced while taking his measurements and asking for his help picking out a dress at the boutique.

Seeing my reluctance, he rubs his fingers on his lips thoughtfully. "Alright, then. Suit yourself. But I somehow doubt you can fall asleep when you're shivering like a rabbit in a snare."

My eyes narrow. "Stop comparing me to small animals. It's rather insulting, considering that I fight just as well as you do."

It's a lie, of course. Sylus's power is incomparable, but I can hold my own at his side for the most part.

I try to cross my arms angrily, but the Linkage stops me. Though I yank hard on the chain, Sylus might as well be a boulder. His wrist doesn't move an inch.

"Just calling it as I see it," he continues to tease, his gaze unyielding and unwavering. "The way you look now," his eyes scan me up and down, "reminds me of a grumpy, hungry, and very tired kitten."

My eyes can't help but follow his hand as he continues to stroke his full lips. Hypnotized, I hardly hear it when he asks me a question in turn.

"You are hungry, aren't you? We've been here several hours, and I doubt someone as frugal as you would have splurged to buy something on the train."

My stomach chooses that moment to let out a rather loud groan of protest. Mortified, I sink into my quilt and look away from him. Sylus chuckles softly.

"I can order room service, at least."

"No!" I rush to stop him when he reaches for his phone. As I lunge for his hand, he grabs my wrist and pulls me into his lap. It's awkward. It's embarrassing. He's as large as a full grown grizzly bear, and he makes me feel completely helpless and tiny when I'm close to him. It's a thrilling kind of feeling, and one that I also really truly want to despise...

...but can't.

I squirm to get away from him, but he holds fast. In moments, I'm settled in his embrace, left with no options for escape.

"Shall I sing you a lullaby?" he asks sarcastically.

"Please don't. Being draped over you like this is bad enough."

We sit in silence for a time, my heart beating faster and faster as his body heat begins to seep into me. He's like a furnace, and soon I start to overheat. His chest undulates with deep steady breaths. His toned abs burn into my back; his huge arm wraps around me, shackling me in place just like the Linkage on my wrist. I can smell his aftershave, and it does terrible things to my rational mind.

"Sylus, I can't do this. I'm uncomfortable. The couch is too small. Let's try something else."

"As if," he sighs then yawns.

With his hand laying casually on my stomach, I can't relax at all. In an attempt to steer myself back in a morally acceptable direction, I run one of my fingers across the back of his hand. His palm is like two of mine. His skin is a mixture of smooth expanse and rough spots at points where it would normally rest against a weapon in combat. His knuckles are rough, too. Realizing that I'm taking liberties, I scramble to move my hands away and mutter an apology.

"Did you find something interesting on my hands?"

"Just remembering how much blood is on them," I say spitefully.

Instantly, I regret my sharp tongue. I squeeze his thumb apologetically and nearly jump out of my skin when his free hand strokes the ends of my hair.

"Then, I suppose it's a good thing you're not squeamish." His voice is softer now, but I don't trust myself to look up at him.

"This really isn't going to work," I tell him again. "Please, Sylus. Let's' try something else."

"I give you an inch...and you take..." his voice drifts off.

Silence, then.

"Sylus?" I whisper in the darkness.

No way. He did not just fall asleep while in the middle of a sentence. The tension drains out of me all at once, and I rest my head against his chest so I can see his face. Sure enough, his eyes are closed, his face relaxed in repose. He's resting the side of his face on the hand that was just stroking my hair, long black lashes fanning out on his regal cheekbones.

He's devastatingly handsome, like an artist sculpted his features from the finest alabaster.

My chest tightens. All my frustrations aside, to think that a man like Sylus could fall dead asleep in a strange room with a strange woman tethered to him is unthinkable. Either his confidence exceeds my expectations or...

He trusts me.

I let that sink in for a minute, frustrated when the knowledge leaves me even more confused.

In the last six months, we've been through quite a few ordeals and crazy situations together. He's become a rather constant presence in my life, enough for me to worry when I didn't hear from him for several days. Enough, too, for me to dream about tending to his wounds.

But, even after spending all that time with him, I'm still processing all the things he makes me feel.

He scares the hell out of me. But, I feel absolutely safe with him. I can rely on him in a pinch. If I ask him to, he will clear obstacles out of my path. But, too often, he ends up being an obstacle and a source of strife himself.

I stroke the back of his hand with my fingers, making circles as I mumble to myself. "Every time we meet, something bad happens. Usually for me. You must be the harbinger of trouble."

"Hmm?" he stirs, opening his breathtaking red eyes to give me a disapproving look. His brow furrows, sensual lips curving down in mild irritation. "Stop chattering and go to sleep," he rumbles down at me. "This was your idea, after all."

We lapse into silence again, but nothing changes. Now that my head rests against his chest, I can hear his heartbeat. It's slow and steady, but it sounds different than any heartbeat I've heard before. It's almost like there's an echo behind every beat.

His necklace catches my eye, and I can't help but bring my hand up to fiddle with it. I toy with the chain for a moment then slide my finger upwards to the neckline of Sylus's sweatshirt. It's just a normal piece of clothing with a cut that isn't any lower than an average shirt of its type. But, the way it fits on Sylus is borderline criminal. The casual cut leaves his neck and collarbone exposed.

Entranced, I tap the pad of my finger against the base of his throat. His neck is muscular, but also long and graceful. A steady pulse flutters against my fingertip, and I quickly lower my hand, shocked that I allowed myself such liberties. I can't help it, though. This man absolutely confounds me, and despite my best judgement I can't help but want to know everything about him.

I take a deep breath as quietly as I can.

"Sylus, I can't sleep."

"I can," he retorts calmly. "If you'll let me."

In the face of his indifference, my irritation grows. I want to retaliate, but while I'm thinking about a way to do so, one of his eyes opens to look at me.

"Today's patience is wearing thin," he frowns. "Though I don't dislike your explorations, it's better if you just calm down and go to sleep."

A large hand presses my head against his shoulder. My cheek brushes against his sweatshirt, releasing a cloud of scent. Manly. Clean. Sharp.

Calm down? As if!

My heart is thundering in my chest now, and I don't think I can stand being this close to him for another second. I renew my efforts to squirm out of his grasp, my actions greatly annoying my oversized human pillow. In a single powerful motion, Sylus gets to his feet and lifts me into his arms. Not like a princess, but like a sack of potatoes that he practically tosses over his shoulder.

"Put me down," I demand, but he doesn't bother to listen. Two or three steps with his long legs takes us to the bed. He throws me down onto it then leans over me, pressing my Linked wrist into the mattress. His leg settles between mine, and I stop breathing entirely. With my free hand, I push against his shoulder.

His other hand takes control of my wrist, and he guides it down onto the mattress next until I'm completely pinned beneath him. His grip doesn't hurt. He's somehow careful not to cause me pain, yet he is as unyielding as a dam against rushing water.

"You've been letting these hands run wild for a while now," he murmurs, his gaze unreadable. "Is it my turn for exploration?"

"What are you talking about?" I ask, breathless.

"Should I do to you what you've been doing to me for the last hour?" His crooked smirk returns. When he tilts his head, some of his bangs fall forward, giving him a rough and tumble or "just out of bed" kind of appearance. Alarm bells go off in my head. I have to get away.

Now.

I'm a Hunter.

He's a king of the criminal underworld.

There could not be a worse match-up in all of history.

But, the thought of pushing him away now hurts. What I really want isn't escape. I'm no fool, even if I am terrible with love and with relationships. The closest I've come to intimacy in the last few years has been a battery powered quick fix lying in a dusty box under my bed. Even so; even without having a wholesome understanding of what it means to yearn for someone, I can no longer deny that I want this man more than I've ever wanted someone before.

It's unhealthy. It's ill advised.

"Please, Sylus," I breathe, and his eyes slip to my lips. His dark pupils dilate.

"What are you asking me, kitten?" he murmurs, letting go of my wrists to slide his hands up until our fingers wrap around one another. "The terms of a contract should be clearly stipulated."

"Let me go," I beg him.

He doesn't miss a beat, as though he already knew what I was going to say.

"That's not what your eyes are asking me," he counters.

"It's what I'm asking," I insist, my heart squeezing painfully.

Something yanks on the Linkage, then, and before I can react, the same force pulls Sylus towards me. I gasp as he presses into me. In a blink, he brings up an arm to rest on his elbow, keeping most of his weight off to avoid hurting me. He sighs, glancing at the Linkages. Somehow the chain between our wrists has disappeared. The manacles are interlocked, forcing Sylus and I into even greater proximity.

"What have you done now?" he groans. My body grows taught at the vibrations of his voice in my ear. So soft. Languid. Like a lazy afternoon in the sun.

"N-Nothing," I insist. "You threw yourself at me."

"Then how do you explain this?" he gestures with his head to the Linkages.

I honestly have no good answer. Right now, it's all I can do to stare at the corner of the ceiling so I don't meet his gaze. "I don't know what happened, but they're like two snakes trying to devour each other," I mumble.

Desperate, I try to move myself out and away from him. To my horror, the manacle around my wrist tightens even more. I yelp at the painful pressure.

Sylus's low chuckle ruffles the fine hairs at my ear. "You know, sweetie, the more a snake's prey tries to escape, the more tightly it gets strangled."

I shiver, closing my eyes. "That's within your control, then, isn't it? Please, you need to move first. Let me go."

He shifts marginally, his shoulders tensing. "Hm, looks like someone is about to walk in."

I finally look at his face. "What? Walk in where?"

"I'm saying we're about to have a guest."

"Stop trying to scare me. Do you enjoy being an as--"

Past the wall of the bedroom, I hear the sound of a scraping key card over the white noise of the TV. My heart leaps into my throat, body breaking out in cold sweat. Oh no! I'd forgotten that we have assigned room mates on this trip, too. It must be Lois, the young Hunter girl I'd met at headquarters a week ago. If she sees us like this --

I buck beneath Sylus's hold, now putting everything I have into getting him off of me. Fortunately, he decides to cooperate. I manage to push him off me and scramble to the edge of the bed. I look around wildly, my heart pounding. The hotel room has only one exit, which means we need to hide. I spot the closet a short distance away.

"Get in," I hiss violently, yanking on our Linkage and stuffing us both into the tiny space. I slam the door shut and struggle to breathe. At this point, I'm in serious deep water. Even if nobody knows that this is the the Sylus, I will have a witness that saw me bringing a man to my hotel room on a business trip. My reputation will be ruined, and I will likely face temporary suspension. Just imagining the spreading rumors makes me want to vomit.

If someone sees me like this, I won't be able to clear my name even with a redemption arc.

"Ellara!" a cheerful voice resounds from the living area. "Are you here, girl? I can't believe you missed the first part of the presentation!"

I stay silent, chanting prayers to whatever deity would listen in my mind.

"I heard you lost your luggage. Poor thing, but you can borrow some of my clothes if you want." Her footsteps and voice grow louder. "Tara's downstairs waiting, come on!"

My back cramps, and I look down. In my rush, I sat down in an awkward position on the ground. Something hard digs into my back and shoulder blade. Worse yet, Sylus is right on top of me. His size makes this space feel like a broom closet. Our noses are nearly touching, and his breath fans against my face. Some of his hair tickles my forehead.

For a split second, I lose myself in his red eyes.

Not a romantic red like a fading sunset.

Red like fresh blood.

And right now, those eyes are filled to the brim with displeasure.

Memories flash of my first few days with him, back when he tried to use those terrible eyes against me. Of the voice in my head begging me to devour him. The way he used his frightening black Evol to move and manipulate my body to his whims.

I struggle to inhale. Claustrophobia assails me.

Panicking, I push my hand against his chest.

"Sylus, move. I can't breathe."

"Ordering me around, are you?" He glances at my hands; his frown intensifies. "Why are your hands shaking?" He seems genuinely bothered by my fear, but I don't have the capacity to process that right now.

I yank on our Linked wrists for emphasis. "I can't move until you do," I tell him.

Still frowning, he accommodates my request. He shifts his body, wrapping his arms around my waist. I gasp when he lifts me up and sets me on top of him so his legs can stretch out and give me room to move. Somehow, I end up in his lap yet again.

"No, Sylus. This isn't--" his hand settles over my mouth. Huge and hot. He presses a finger to his own lips in turn.

"She's coming. Shh..."

Lois calls my name again, and this time she's in the doorway of the bedroom. My palms grow sweaty. There's no way she won't look inside the closet. My hands tremble where they grip Sylus's shirt. He glances down at them again, then at back at me. His fingers force me to look at him.

Being the sole focus of his gaze is an experience I can't put into words. I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff faced with a huge red tidal wave. Any moment now, the wave will push me back, and who knows whether I'll fall to my death or find salvation?

Leaning forward, he whispers in my ear, "If you're anxious, just close your eyes."

His hand slips from my face, but his thumb grazes my lower lip in passing. His huge palm presses me forward to rest against his chest.

His heartbeat pulses against my ear, body heat enveloping me like a blanket.

Ba-dum lub-dub, ba-dum lub-dub, ba-dum lub-dub...

Steady.

Slow.

Just like it had been when he was sleeping.

My trembling slows, breathing evening out.

His free hand reaches out and presses against the door right as Lois approaches the closet.

"Ellara? Are you here?" I hear the rolling of luggage wheels. "Well, no matter. I'll just leave this here for her for when she gets back." She tugs on the closet door. Again and again. I squeeze my eyes shut; it feels like she'll never stop.

"Why isn't this opening? Is it stuck?"

She pulls harder, but she's no match for Sylus's strength. If she wants to open that door, she'll need to tear it off its hinges.

"Gotta call maintenance, I guess," she sighs. Like salvation, her phone rings. She picks it up, engaging whomever it was in conversation and padding back out of the bedroom.

I breathe out raggedly.

Beneath me, Sylus makes a sound of amusement.

"Your mental fortitude is terrible in situations like this," he observes.

"If we're seen--"

"So your reputation matters more to you than your life?" he asks. There's no judgement in his voice, just curiosity. "You were never this afraid when we were faced with a hail of bullets and assailants."

This is different. Completely different. But now is not the time to try to explain it.

Sylus smiles. "If we're discovered, I suppose we should just confess."

"To what, exactly?" I hiss defiantly.

His fingertips snake down the nape of my neck to the base of my spine. My eyes go wide when those same fingers sneak beneath the edge of my shirt and slip inside. In a blink, he's caressing my bare skin. I suck in a breath as my whole body breaks out in goosebumps.

"What are you...doing?"

Without answering, he keeps going. His fingers move up. Higher and higher, until his knuckles graze the underside of my bra. Splayed open, his fingers span almost my entire back.

Our eyes lock, devouring each other much like the Linkages around our wrists.

A single moment hangs between us in time.

And then his fingers slip beneath the barrier between us.

My breath hitches in my throat.

My skin pulses with anticipation.

My lips part, my mouth opening on a protest. His crimson eyes sear into me, daring me to speak, daring me to try to stop him. They aren't asking for permission; there's really no need. He already knows what my body wants, and he's prepared to ignore my lips trying to stop him.

Outside, Lois' voice fades away. Keys jingle. The front door to the hotel room slams shut. Silence fills the air, broken only by the humming of the furnace and my labored breaths.

I can't tear my eyes away from Sylus's lips. They're so close now. It would only take a single motion on my part, a single adjustment to my posture to taste them.

With a herculean effort, I keep myself still.

When our eyes meet next, his are hooded and burning. A volcano simmers beneath - boiling lava waiting to erupt.

"So what's it to be, kitten?" he teases. His fingers move a little higher, pressing up against my breast. "Should we continue?"

"Nn..." I could hardly recognize my own voice as a needy mewl rips itself from me. I slip forward, just that much closer. My resolve is breaking, bit by bit. Or maybe mile by mile. My body grows restless, sore, impoverished.

"Your hands are cold as ice, but you feel quite warm here now." He rocks his hips against me, and I close my eyes against a pang of dizziness. Warm fluid floods my panties, my body betraying all my morals.

I whimper when the tips of his fingers nudge against my nipple. A need so deep, raw, and painful slams into my groin that I can't help but throw my head back. His huge hand supports me as I sigh in pleasure, keeping me from falling.

A breath against my chest and then cold air as my shirt is lifted up. Lost in wave upon wave of desire, I gasp when his lips press right between my breasts. He plants a hungry kiss there. Then another, his silvery hair tickling my skin. Hungry, but gentle. So very gentle.

He breathes me in then exhales, and the rolling of his hot wet breath has me gripping him tighter.

Then he stops. Leans back.

In a haze, I glance down to find him smirking, his sharp eyes narrowed and challenging. He tilts up his chin in that arrogant way of his, daring me to protest.

We have to stop. This is madness.

Really, Ellara? Making out with the Sylus in the middle of Hunter symposium in a damn closet?

I need to push him away. Push him away. Push him away.

I wince as the Linkage tightens painfully on my wrist. Bruising. Aching. Punishing me for going against the wishes of my heart.

"Sylus, we can't do this," I whisper. "I'm a Hunter, and you're..."

"I'm what?"

"You're the leader of Onychinus..."

"Is that all I am?" he asks, placing another kiss on my shoulder. "Does that title define me?" Another feathery kiss. "Are you just a Hunter? Or are you not Ellara as well?"

"Of c-course I am," I gasp. "B-But...we...this is..."

"Alright, then," he says, his expression still amused. He pulls back, and it feel like someone reached in and ripped out a part of me.

"If that's what you want."

It isn't, and he knows it well.

Anger floods me. How dare he play with me like this? How dare he act like he could stop now when we've already clearly crossed a line? When I need him this much? Furious, I grab the collar of his shirt. Why am I always the one being toyed with? Am I just another amusement to stave off boredom?

I want to shout at him.

I want to wipe the smirk off his beautiful face.

But, more than that, I deeply, desperately need to kiss him.

And so, that's exactly what I do.

I pull him towards me, molding my mouth to his.

He's shocked. His whole body tenses. But, I'm over it. Over all of this. No more stops. No more hesitation. I'm pretty sure I will spontaneously combust if I don't get a taste of him immediately. With a lustful moan, I run my tongue against his lips. He immediately grants me entry, and my mind goes blank as we vie for dominance.

His mouth is smooth and molten hot.

His saliva is slick and sweet.

He tastes like peppermint and heaven.

He tastes like home.

I'd spent so many cold and hollow nights imagining what a perfect kiss might be. Secretly, I thought nothing in reality could measure up.

What an idiot I was...

Without breaking away from me, his fingers move again. I can't hold back a ragged moan as he plays with my nipple and rocks me against him. Gentle, yet insistent. Rhythmic. Constant. His touch builds like a crescendo; my blood surges and sings, breasts seeming to swell as bliss shoots from my chest to my fingers and toes.

I try to move back, nearly overstimulated, but he holds me still. His mouth absorbs my wanton moans as he unhooks the back of my bra with his free hand. At last, we come up for air. I curve into him like an eager she-cat when he palms both of my breasts and presses his mouth to them. My hands bury into his hair, fingernails digging into his scalp.

Worried that I'm hurting him, I hesitate. He nips at my neck, making me squeal.

"I'm not afraid of your claws," he purrs against me. "Do what you want. I won't break."

A pressure grows and hardens against my core, assuring me that despite Sylus' outward composure, he's just as affected as I am. I cry out when he pinches me, nearly cumming at the sound of his deep voice humming a note of approval. He licks his way up my neck.

"All this just from my tongue and lips on you? Looks like my little kitten is pent up."

I let him have that victory. He's not wrong, after all.

I'm climbing to the pinnacle so fast that I'm dizzy, but I've plateaued. My hips begin moving on their own, my body seeking him, searching for pressure - any pressure - to ease the agony between my legs. He knows what I need, but he denies me, choosing to focus on just touches, kisses, caresses. His hands and mouth drive me to delirium until all I can do is hang onto his hair and his shoulders and beg.

"Sylus..." I rasp.

He smiles against my breasts.

"Sylus- ah!"

I almost want to cry when one of his hands glides down my thigh and stops just short of touching my center.

"...need you...need this..." I bump against his growing erection.

"Are you sure?" he breathes, nipping at my ear. "You want me to do you right here?"

"Nnn...yes...yes..."

I shudder when his finger passes over my apex, his touch dulled by layers of clothes. I try to lift myself up, but I'm clumsy, uncoordinated, weak with want. It's cramped in here, and there's no room for either of us to move much. Frantic, I buck my hips and whine. When I reach for the door, Sylus grips my hand and brings it to his lips.

"Patience, sweetie," he coos, kissing my knuckles. "I'll take care of you."

He settles his hands on my hips and lifts me up. The buckle of his pants clinks as he undoes it. Next, he reaches up and tears a hole in my leggings. I'm too far gone for any kind of outrage at my lost garment, especially when his pulsating cock brushes up against my bare skin. I'm so drenched that I slip and slide against him.

His hiss of pleasure thrills me.

I can feel every inch of him as he moves. He's huge, and for a moment I feel a flash of trepidation. Then it passes, and all I can think about is how badly I need him to ruin me right now.

"Sylus..."

His hands squeeze my ass, spreading me wide. "I know, kitten. Breathe."

With that, he slips into me. He's gentle. Slow. Careful. But, I'm still overwhelmed. My thoughts white out. All worries, hesitations, moral tugs of war. Everything dissipates into the breathtaking sensation of him filling me. There's some pain, but its a passing thing. Not worthy of note, not when he pulls me down into a kiss and fills me with his tongue as well. My nails tattoo my ecstasy into his shoulders, my insides squeezing him so tight as I climax that he has to break our kiss so he doesn't bite down on my tongue.

I wiggle on him, wanting him to move, needing to know what it feels like for him to scramble me up inside.

"Easy," he warns. "Are you alright?"

"No," I confess, drinking in the blood of his crimson gaze like a ravenous beast. But I can't find the right words to describe my need. "More," I plead. "Just...more..."

"Reckless as ever," he chuckles, but he's out of breath too.

I watch the Adam's apple move on his gorgeous neck as he swallows. I move my hips again, urging him to take me, break me, whatever he wants. His hands tighten their grip on my hips. I dearly hope he leaves bruises. I don't want to forget this moment for days. Weeks. Not ever. It's so perfect. He's so perfect.

With a snap, the Linkage around our wrists shatters.

Sylus doesn't give it a second glance. The moment we're free, he moves my body around.

"Relax," he breathes into my ear and kisses it. "Turn this way." Without pulling out of me, he shifts us around so my back faces him. I rest my hands against the opposite wall, whimpering when he spreads my legs open and positions me on my knees. He hulks over me, one big hand holding my waist while the other rests beside mine on the wall.

He starts to move, and I can no longer stop myself from making obscene sounds of bliss. Every thrust threatens to split me in half, the friction making me dig my nails into the wall. His cock hits me so deep inside that I swear I'll shatter into a million pieces. But, the pain is indescribably wonderful, and as my body adjusts to take in his size and girth, only pleasure remains.

"Ah...mmn...ah...Sylus...Sylus!"

"That's it," he huffs right into my ear, licking every nook and crevice. "Scream for me." His fingers slip from my waist to torment my clit. I shatter on the rocks, losing track of what's happening. He pounds into me until I feel him start to swell even more.

"Mmn...ah...yes!...please...please...inside me...give me all of you..."

His rumbling chuckle throws me over another edge as he explodes into me. He's breathing hard, his heart pounding against my back. His hips keep moving as white hot cum leaks down my thighs. He nuzzles into the crook between my neck and shoulder. Kissing my skin. Grazing his teeth on it.

We float in a haze, surrounded by our breaths and heartbeats. He doesn't pull out of me for some time, and I try to process what just happened. I'm joined with him in the most intimate way, and I've never felt anything more natural.

His sensual lips rain kisses on my back, his hand stroking my belly, my chest, my arm - helping me come down from the most incredible high of my life.

"Sylus..." I whisper, my arms shaking. "I can't move."

"I have you," he soothes, pressing a kiss to my temple. I gasp when he pulls back. The sound of his belt clicking as he tucks himself back into his jeans.

"I'm going to move us now. Trust me, alright?"

I nod weakly.

The world tilts and spins. Vibrations of Evol pulsate through me. I remember this feeling, though the last time it flowed through my body it was like an aggressive snake. This time, it's warm and reassuring. Sylus's arms wrap around me. I smell that delicious aftershave again. Or maybe it's something else. Maybe this is just his smell.

Just as his kiss tastes of home, his scent smells of safety and security.

Wrapped up in his embrace, nothing can hurt me.

The closet disappears, and before I can make a single sound, Sylus is standing in the middle of the bedroom with me in his arms. He pulls the sheets and blanket off the bed and wraps them around me.

"Two more jumps," he smiles, and my heart flutters at the softness of his gaze. No longer like blood. More like a deep ruby wine. "I'm on the top floor."

Again, my surroundings spin and whirl like a hurricane. Colors blur together. It's disorienting, but I'm not afraid, trusting that the one holding me won't let me fall. When it all settles, we are no longer in my hotel room. Instead, we're standing in some kind of penthouse suite. I blink as I look around.

"Is this your room?"

"Did you want to stay downstairs?" He raises a brow at me.

I shake my head. "No. I guess I'm just wondering why we didn't come here sooner."

"And miss out on nearly getting caught?" he teases.

Again, I give him this one. Despite how terrifying it was when Lois nearly found us, the aftermath was...well...

I can't really be mad at him, and I'm too tired to try.

"Your hands are still like ice," he frowns. "Let's get warmed up." He pads to the bathroom as I poke his chest.

"You're not cold at all, though."

The master bath is a sight to behold. White marble with contrasting black and gold swirls. Frosted glass etched with patterns of rare flowers accents the rich colorations around it. The shower alone is larger than the walk-in closet in my apartment. Taken aback, I'm still marveling at the decor as Sylus sets me down on a nearby loveseat.

He starts when I wince and make a sound of pain. I shift in my seat, trying to find a position that doesn't hurt. Immediately, he's kneeling in front of me, his hand cupping my face. Those deep ruby eyes take me in, searching for the source of my discomfort. My heart races to be the focus of those slanted sharp eyes.

"Was I too rough?" he asks.

My hand covers his. "I'm alright. It's just...been a while." I smile at him and stroke his hair. As he closes his eyes in pleasure at my touch, I'm completely at my wit's end. There's no logic or reason that can stop the tenderness running through me now. There's no reason I can think of to push this man away any longer.

This man.

Not the Sylus of Onychinus.

Not the king of N109.

Just a man.

An incredible, wonderful, and mysterious man.

"A hot bath will help me feel better," I tell him.

He glances at the tub, stopping my heart with his special half smile. "I think we'll both fit in this one."

I pull him down for a long slow and thorough kiss. "Then, what are we waiting for?"

#love and deepspace #sylus #sylus/mc #sylus x mc #sylus love and deepspace #sylusposting #love and deepspace fanfic #eyes of infinity delirium #lnds #lnds xavier #lnds fanfic #lnds sylus

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lemonsquashhh · 3 months ago

Text

♡THREE♡

(AN: HIII I’M BACK!! Here’s the next chapter to my fanfic/fanmade TWST event! Leona and Chiiyuki are heading out to the Court of Springs. Here, you’ll get a small glimpse of this island and its history. I hope to start working on chapter 4 soon. Like are appreciated ^ - ^)

ch. 2

ch. 1

Leona’s POV:

I peered down at Chiiyuki, walking by my side with a solemn expression. My body could sense her palpitating heart rate. I wanted to let her know that if any time she wanted to turn back, then all she had to do was say the word. Almost instinctively, my hand brushed against hers to let her know I’m here with her. But to my surprise, there was a small flame of determination in her eyes. Her love for her parents must have been so strong that it conquered her worries. She was trying to be strong in a situation that terrified her, which I kind of admired.

We then made our way down a steep, rocky hillside of the coast. At the bottom, waiting for us was a small wooden boat. I observed the boat for any signs of dangers before I climbed in. On one of the seats, I noticed small engraving and remains of ash carved into the wood. From the general shape, it reminded me of symbols from the East, specifically used in enchantments. Luckily, I’m pretty knowledgeable on ancient magic so I could easily guess that it’s an enchantment to navigate the boat.

I look up to spot Chiiyuki several steps away from the boat, taking in deep breaths to calm herself down. Chiiyuki took one last glance at the scenery behind her. One of the guards gave her a reassuring, firm pat on the back to give her the push she needed. Chiiyuki snapped out of whatever daze she was in and marched on forwards.

Chiiyuki joined me in the boat, carefully stepping in to not rock the boat too much. She was seated beside me , thigh pressed up against mine.

“Are you sure you want this?” I asked her once more, wanting to make sure she is comfortable. Chiiyuki managed a nod. The flame of determination wavering in her eyes, her spirit.

With Chiiyuki’s confirmation, I nodded for the guards to push the boat into the water. The boat bobbed in sync with the tranquil waves. Slowly, we drifted away from shore, gradually moving until the figures of the guards were a mere speck in the distance.

Not too long into our little journey, I noticed the light from the sky beginning to dimmer. Dark grey clouds gathered above us, gradually obscuring the clear, sunny skies. There was an ominous tension in the air, as the sky darkened. I felt the hairs on my arms stick up, an instinctual response. My eyes moved to Chiiyuki’s direction, trying to search for answers.

Chiiyuki responded by scooting even closer to me. Her arms were slightly raised from her sides, held out towards me.

“May I? It’s going to get cold from here onwards.”

Up ahead of us, was an area shrouded in darkness accompanied by fog. I caught a small whiff of what I could only describe as cold, but earthy. A chill wind blew some of the fog in our direction, past our boat and immediately I allowed Chiiyuki to hold me. Her arms immediately embraced me, keeping me tight in place. I soon realised it wasn’t just any ordinary hug. She was transferring some of her magic to me. I felt some of her magic infusing with mine, causing warmth to spread throughout my entire being.

The boat continued on its path, even with our path being obstructed by the fog. And as we ventured onwards, the fog only grew thicker until I couldn’t see anything anymore. All that was left was the gentle swaying of the boat, and Chiiyuki’s body pressed up onto mine. What once I described as cold frigid arms, were now comforting like a thick blanket. The warmth from her embrace helped me relax as we continued through the fog. I could feel my eyelids grow heavier. With each passing moment, it became increasingly harder to stay awake.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

A soft shush. Then the next, and then another. In and out, rhythmic. As I became more aware, the shushing had a discernible crash before receding. Gradually, I regained my senses and forced my eyes open. We were still out at sea, our small boat drifting with purpose.

Not too far in the distance, I noticed a small yellow light. Then two, then four, then eight…until there was an entire row.

We were approaching the pier. More lights from the surrounding buildings came into view. Lanterns dimly illuminated the silhouttes of buildings deeper within the city. Vibrant red spider lilies equally, if not taller than the buildings grew in harmony with the structures. As Chiiyuki said, the Court of Springs was enveloped in darkness. The only source of light was from the flames.

Speaking of which, my ears picked up a faint, yet distinct sound of chattering not too far off. There weren’t any sounds akin to vehicles, mostly chattering and the twinkling of fairy dust. Chiiyuki’s grip around me tightened. Her face was buried on my arm, shying away from the city’s entrance.

Up on the pier were two distinct, still figures. They were the only ones there, no other boats at sight. One of them raised an arm to gesture to the boat to come forwards. Immediately, our boat beelined to the side of the pier.

“Stop.” A baritone voice commanded.

The enchantment wore off, leaving it bobbing up and down with the waves. I carefully removed Chiiyuki’s arms around me to stand up and get off the boat. My legs were stiff and numb from sitting in that tiny wooden vessel for an unascertained period of time. It felt good to finally be able to stretch my legs, not to mention refreshed thanks to the cool night air.

I turned back at the sound of Chiiyuki’s clumsy footsteps and the creaking of wood. Out of concern, I reached my hand out for her own. Her hand trembled in mine, even when I helped her onto the wooden pier. Chiiyuki’s nimble legs nearly gave out beneath her. She found her footing by placing her arms on me once again.

“Don’t step on my feet again.” I grumbled in mild annoyance.

My gaze swept over the dark city ahead of us. With how closed off the Court of Springs is from the rest of the world, perhaps it would make for a good final resting spot. The only place where I would be nobody, no one to bother me. No more people to disappoint. No more reminders of how I’m a failure…

Chiiyuki sounded a bit out of it. She kept her eyes on her wobbly legs, desperately looking away from the edge of the pier.

“I’m trying. Just, I’m so dizzy…” Chiiyuki’s voice trailed off at the end. Two pairs of footsteps approach us, the sound reverberating through the thin wooden planks.

“Chii…Chiiyuki!” One of the figures originally looking out at the edge of the pier rushed to Chiiyuki’s side. It was a woman, slightly older in appearance than Chiiyuki. She had dark, cherry red hair tied into a low bun. Holding her hair in place was a golden pin, adorned with a sculpted flower on one end.

The woman wrapped her arms around Chiiyuki. She held her tightly, rocking her side to side. “You’re okay. Thank goodness. We were so worried…”

The other figure, a tall man dressed in a long, dark coat with fur on the edges, joined the reunion. Like Chiiyuki, he had the same honey hair and ruby eyes. I was absolutely astonished at how long it took me to realise who the figures were waiting for us at the pier. Must have been exhaustion. The man pat Chiiyuki’s head. He was silent, but relief shone in his eyes.

Chiiyuki’s mother turned her head up to show her gratitude. “Thank you for bringing our daughter back to us.”

Her words echoed deeply in my head. Seeing Chiiyuki being cared for, by the only people who were meant to love her, ignited a deeply seated jealousy in my heart. Years of failing to receive approval from my folks, who were supposed to love me, surfaced in my memories. I took a step back so I wouldn’t be intruding on the happy family moment.

“…whatever.” I gritted through my teeth. This place was miserable.

My ears picked up a quiet, deep voice whispering something to the reunited family. Chiiyuki’s mother made a content noise in agreement to whatever the father said.

“You must be freezing out here. How about joining us for tea? We made reservations at a teahouse to celebrate our daughter’s um…return.” An offer done out of courtesy. A part of me really wanted to turn down the offer. The notion of a celebration filled with happiness made me really irritated. Yet, I couldn’t turn it down. I wasn’t going back on that suffocating vessel any time soon.

“Sure.” I huffed. Chiiyuki’s mother smiled and began guiding the way into the city. The family of three walked past me, staying close together for most of the way there. I trailed after them, taking my time to let my eyes roam around the frankly barren city. Once we’re past the stone gates, I couldn’t help but find myself intrigued with how small everything is. Most buildings were two stories at most, made of concrete and slate tiles. Garden fairies flew around the city, collecting a bright, silvery dust from the spider lilies of varying heights that were scattered all around.

Chiiyuki glanced back at me with concern etched into her face. She gestured to her parents to go on ahead, before walking up to me. Even when she was reunited with the people she loved the most, for some reason she wanted to be with me? I hated being pitied by people. It’s like she was looking down upon me.

“I don’t want you to feel cold.” A hopeful smile graced her lips. Our arms brushed up against each other.

I sped up pace to move away from her side. I turned away from her to keep my face hidden. I felt a sudden chill course through my body the moment I tore myself away from her, but ignored the discomfort.

She ran up to my side, and once again I moved away from her. I let out a loud huff to let her know I wasn’t in the mood to entertain her. A hint of dejection flashed in her eyes, but she was not deterred. Chiiyuki strode up to my side. She linked her arm with mine, unwilling to let go. Now that we were physically touching each other, I wasn’t going to push her off. And so, I relented. The warmth I once experienced in the boat returned. My body tension gradually eased, the coldness taken over by a soothing balm to my soul.

The teahouse, much like other buildings, was small on the outside yet surprisingly spacious on the inside. Illuminating the main room were golden lanterns hanging from the ceiling. There were also mahogany wooden poles supporting the building’s structure, with red silk curtains parted on each side. I’d assume they were usually put in place to provide some sort of privacy for guests. Rows of tables for where patrons would usually dine in, were cleared for today’s special occasion.

I sat down beside Chiiyuki, her parents seated across from me. There was one last seat at the head of the table. Were they expecting a fifth person? Chiiyuki never mentioned other family members besides her parents. To my left Chiiyuki was doing her best to make herself as small as possible. A looming dread emanating from Chiiyuki’s being invaded my senses. It made the hair at the back of my neck stand up a little.

Loud, strong footsteps approached our table. “Ah, my children are already here? A pity, I was hoping to welcome my lost child back home.”

A tall, imposing woman with an intimidating face strolled up to our table. She had long dark hair with orange peekaboo highlights, tied up in a high half ponytail. Chiiyuki’s parents nearly jumped out of their seats to greet the third guest. The anxious fairy to my left was still seated. Her mother quietly signalled for her to stand up. It took a few tries, but eventually Chiiyuki followed suit. Of course, I stood up too. I wasn’t going to outright disrespect a figure of importance on my first day. That could be done later.

“It’s fine, Guo Wan. And you, Fuyuki, you can rest easy now that I’m here.” The woman spoke warmly, but still maintaining her imposing stature. Her attention then drifted to Chiiyuki and myself.

“My darling, child. And she brought an outsider.” The woman reached her hands out, cupping Chiiyuki’s face tenderly. Her rudy hands stroked the fairy’s cheeks with care. I propped my arm up on the table to pretend to rest my head. My head turned away to conceal the roll of my eyes.

“You travelled far to return home. You must be exhausted, poor girl .” The woman stared deeply into Chiiyuki’s eyes.

Guo Wan, Chiiyuki’s mother, ushered me to sit down. From the way she looked over at me, I knew we would have to wait for our third guest to finish whatever nonsense she had to say to Chiiyuki.

It must have been nice to have so many people care about you.

The woman took her seat at the head of the table. Only once the woman was sitting did Chiiyuki return to her spot beside me. Her posture was stiff and uncomfortable. Honey bangs lowered just enough to cover her eyes, but subtle enough to conceal her eyes. Pale pink lips twitched in a slight bit of anger.

“Leona Kingscholar, was it? ”

I turned my attention to the head of the table. My expression remained neutral.

“I warmly welcome you to the Court of Springs. I am Guangyan, the fifth King. Normally, we don’t get visitors from the outside. But even if you aren’t born from our soils, I shall treat you like the rest of my children- isn’t that right, Fuyuki?” Guangyan’s amber eyes darted straight towards Fuyuki as soon as she said his name.

“You’ll…manage.” Fuyuki’s gaze dropped to the surface of the table. Doubt and uncertainty was barely even hidden in his voice. I let out an audible ‘tch’, what sort of response was that?

Guo Wan coughed, interrupting the tense atmosphere. She offered to order some food for the five of us, as well as the tea house’s specialty tea.

Even when the food arrived, the mood was irritating. I picked up a piping hot steamed bun. Too annoyed to even care about my hand burning, taking a bite to get my mind off the current situation.

“So, Leona…how long do you plan on staying here for?” Guo Wan made an attempt to start a conversation with me.

I shrugged. I genuinely had no idea where we’d be going from here on out. Even though I did promise Chiiyuki to accompany her, it seemed like she wasn’t going back any time soon.

“Why not stay a few days? The Ushering of Blossoms festival will be here soon.” Guangyan suggested. It took everything within me to not roll my eyes. I had absolutely no interest in partaking in a loud, noisy festival. However, if the King of this damn country was making the offer- I couldn’t reject the offer plainly.

Guangyan took it upon herself to make the final decision. I wasn’t even able to get a word in, but since she finalised it, I didn’t have much of a choice. “I’ll have a hotel room booked for the two of you. It shall have the best view for when we have our fireworks show.”

“I’ll have to pass on the fireworks, my ears are sensitive to loud noises.” I stated bluntly. It was partially the truth, so there was no shame in bringing it up.

Guangyan waved her hand dismissively. “No worries, I’ll get you some ear plugs.”

“I hope you’re excited for the festival, Leona! I still remember when Fuyuki celebrated it with us for the first time.” Guo Wan spoke with nostalgia. She playfully nudged Fuyuki, urging a response from him.

“I don’t like loud noises, either. Stay by the river, the fairies put on art performances there every year.” Fuyuki responded, a bit bashful.

Fuyuki reached into his pocket and slid a golden amulet across the table towards me. The metal radiated the exact same kind of warmth that Chiiyuki provided me while we were on the boat together.

“The land isn’t kind to outsiders, like us. This here will protect you from some of the land’s curse.” He explained.

“If we knew you were coming, we would have prepared more for you,” Guo Wan spoke apologetically. She shifted her attention to Chiiyuki, her tone became much more stern, “Until then, stay close to him, okay?”

“What are you all so worried about?” I asked, interrupting the two.

Guangyan’s eyes widened. “Ah Chiiyuki hasn’t told you about the land’s curse? Then allow me to do the explaining. Coincidentally, it ties into the origin of the Ushering of Blossoms.”

“After my predecessor, the first king, arrived, the land was struck by a meteor that wiped nearly all life from the face of the Court of Springs. Our land was corrupted by the negative energy and it attracted many monsters who wreaked havoc on our land. My predecessor was able to vanquish evil, but the damage that was done could never be properly fixed. At that time, the only inhabitants were the king and his followers that he brought with him from afar. Many of them either perished during the fight or starved due to the lack of food left.” Guangyan began to explain the land’s history.

“However, there was still some hope. My predecessor fought alongside a dragon sculpted by the heavens to aid in the conflict. At the end of their final battle, the dragon used its remaining energy to heal our soil. And that was when the first patch of spider lilies were born!”

Guangyan seemed to really revel in the past king’s bravery. So much so, she didn't even answer my own question. Picking up on my frustration, Chiiyuki piped in. Her voice was quieter than usual, a bit meek.

“The land drains all life, except for lifeforms born from the soil. That’s why on the boat…I imbued some of my magic into you to keep you out of harm’s way..” Guilt laced her words. I instantly narrowed my eyes on her. Anger built up in my chest, how could she have been so reckless? She didn’t even care enough to warn me about the dangers of stepping onto these cursed lands? Was she really expecting to protect me the entire time? As if.

Immediately noticing my anger, she quickly apologised. “I’m sorry, Leona. It was selfish of me to not tell you sooner. I promise you, you won’t die. I’ll keep supplying you with my magic.”

Real convenient, apologise now when it’s too late. When I can’t leave this damn place. I huffed, dismissing her concerns.

To my surprise, Fuyuki stepped in. For someone so aloof and intimidating on the outside, he was a real softie.

“I’ll have a coat like mine prepared for you tomorrow. I’m very sorry you had to learn this so late.” Fuyuki bowed his head deeply. It took me aback at how he was so concerned for a literal stranger.

“Forgive me, when I see you…I am reminded of my younger self.” He roughly added, nervously rubbing the back of his head.

I responded with a wry smile. At least he was trying to be earnest.

Once the table was cleared, Guangyan was the first to stand up. She announced that she had a meeting to attend, but will quickly arrange accommodations for Chiiyuki and I at the promised hotel. Chiiyuki’s parents thanked her in unison for joining them for tea and bowed their heads until she left the building.

“As you can already tell, our king is a very prideful ruler. Her words are absolute.” Guo Wan put on a smile in front of me. I shook my head.

“I’m used to this kind of stuff. Stubborn, stuck up sort of people. Can’t tell them they’re wrong to their face.” I discreetly added to the sentiment. To my surprise, Guo Wan and Fuyuki nodded, Fuyuki being less reserved than his wife.

“She’s been keeping the Court of Springs in a good state, way before I arrived. She says it is her duty to protect the country her predecessors ruled.” Fuyuki recalled the words with bitterness.

“Oh come on, at least she gave you a good job.” Guo Wan shot him a teasing look. Fuyuki immediately rolled his eyes and huffed.

“I’ll get that coat made for you. You are shorter than me so I think I can have the measurements adjusted…" His blunt words caught me off guard. I was a bit offended, but didn’t stay too mad since he was nice enough to offer me a special coat.

“In the meantime, Chiiyuki can show you around the city!” Guo Wan smiled. She hugged the two of us, pushing us together. Chiiyuki looked away shyly, guilt still eating away at her. She whispered something about “I can’t” or “I really shouldn’t.” Seeing her still so distraught made my heart clench. I knew I was still upset at her for not letting me know how dangerous it would be coming to the Court of Springs. Would I have still come with her if she told me before? I don’t know, I didn’t really have a chance to think. Yet for some reason, it hurt me that she broke my trust.

But another part of me yearned to see that frown go away. I thought bringing her here would make her at least a bit happy. She was surrounded by the people she loved, so why wasn’t she smiling? Things couldn’t have been that simple, she did run away after all.

There was still a lot Chiiyuki had yet to divulge to me. Maybe, just maybe if I could get her to open up…there’s a chance that I might consider forgiving her.

I recalled the moments where she brought up her time here. There was always a sort of melancholy in her tone when she reminisced. There was a sense of longing, wishing that when she could share her part of her world, it wouldn’t bring up painful memories.

That’s right, she was terrified of coming here. She didn’t want to be alone. She needed someone to face her troubles with. Chiiyuki wanted me by her side.

I’m no hero, and I’m not nearly that kind to lend someone a hand in troubling times. But that’s the usual scenario. Right now, I was stranded in a faraway country with no way out. Well, since I was her first (and only pick), perhaps I’ll take what little honour comes with that. Just this once, I’ll forgive her.

☾⋆⁺₊✧ Later that Night ✧₊⁺⋆☾

Needless to say, Guangyan held up on her promise- her words were law, afterall. Guo Wan led us to the “hotel”. It seemed that there was some foreign influence as it was one of the few taller buildings, though I think the term “inn” would suit it better.

Chiiyuki and I were surprised to learn that we would be sharing a room. According to the manager, many fairies from distant villages had travelled here to work on the upcoming festival. This left us with a single room for us to share. Back at Night Raven College, we’d sit close to each other whenever I stopped by the botanical garden. She had also stayed in my home for a few days in the Sunset Savanna- before our mundane winter break was interrupted. But we’ve never been this close together. Seeing that her parents were standing right behind us, I could only shrug nonchalantly.

Chiiyuki hugged each of her parents goodbye. Her mother leaned in, placing her head on top of her daughter’s.

“Stay close to Leona, okay? Go with him.” She spoke to her softly, but loud enough for my ears to hear her. Guo Wan’s tone was less jovial than before. There was a flicker of pain in her eyes as she let go of her daughter. Our eyes briefly met, and it became apparent that was her intention. I nodded my head.

One of the staff showed us to our room. It was on the top floor with a large balcony that faced towards the city. The ominous stillness was a stark contrast from the Sunrise City, where no matter how late, there was at least some life. Not to mention, the lack of a proper night sky. The Court of Spring had no stars, no moon. Numerous lanterns strung from rows of buildings illuminated the eternal vaste darkness that cursed the entire Court of Springs. There were tall mountains in the distance. A faint light came from one of the peaks, intriguing my curiosity. We stood there for a bit, taking in the eternal night breeze.

“Leona, about earlier- at the tea house…” Chiiyuki tripped on her words.

“Forget it, I don’t care anymore.” I gruffly interrupted her. What good was an apology when the damage was already done?

Chiiyuki was astonished. That was enough to make her realise how her dishonesty made me feel. Night Raven College was a dog eat dog, every man for himself school. Hell, survival of the fittest was my dorm’s creed. I knew better than to show mercy to others if I didn’t want to be taken advantage of.

Still, why did it hurt when Chiiyuki hid the truth from me?

“Leona…” she gently grasped for my arm. The fairy took in a deep breath. With a large exhale, her anxiety slightly subdued. Her ruby eyes turned up to look at me directly, a glimmer of confidence flickering.

“I-I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I won’t let you get hurt or injured. Please, let me protect you.” She had mustered up the courage to be resolute in her vow. Seeing earnesty etched onto her face made what little anger I had left melt away. This was the sort of look a well respected king would receive from a devout follower. Not me, a failed prince.

I sighed, running my hand through my hair. I took some time to consider her words. Standing up straight, I looked down into her eyes- wanting to return that sincerity.

“ I get it, you were scared of coming alone.” I started. My tone was gruff, albeit softer. A wounded ego, built to refuse any outstretched hands, momentarily considered to wither for my own good. Yet at the same time. I didn’t want her to be weighed down by her guilt.

“Don’t get hurt while playing hero. Otherwise, how am I supposed to return home?”

“O-oh, of course! I shall take care of myself too.” She quickly flashed me a smile. The tension between us from before was finally able to be alleviated.

“That’s a good fairy.” I teased her with an arrogant smirk.

Now that we were back on good terms, there was something I had been meaning to ask her. My mind flashed back to something that did bother me earlier. Earlier in the tea house, King Guangyan welcomed Chiiyuki with no questions of her whereabouts. I didn’t recall hearing Guangyan ask why she ran away or any sense of anger. Why was she only relieved that she returned? And how did she know my name?

“About Guangyan…” I trailed off, searching her expression for any signs of discomfort.

Chiiyuki sighed. A weary expression settled on her face. It seemed that she was expecting this question.

“King Guangyan doesn’t care about my personal recount, not when her powers…allow her to know everything.”

Chiiyuki’s voice grew quieter. “She’s the ruler of absolutes, all of her judgements are based on truths. Everyone here knows she has records of the good deeds and misdeeds.”

Her hands conjure lustrous dust, gracefully spinning around to form the vague shape of Guangyan with a lengthy scroll in her hands.

“When I was a kid, I saw Guangyan use her powers on somebody. A man was brought to her for judgement. She summoned her scroll and placed her hand on his forehead. There was like…a bright light was being absorbed into her body. And then tons of words suddenly appeared on her scroll. She then proceeded to read all his crimes out, even the ones the guards weren’t aware of. That was all she needed to cast her judgement.”

I felt a bit of unease from what Chiiyuki described. The idea of someone being able to know everything about me and have it written down was unsettling. I for sure would never have done that if I were king.

“Then…how did she know of your whereabouts?”

Chiiyuki shook her head. “I think…she used her powers on me? I’m sorry, I really don’t know how her powers work. There’s got to be more to her ability that we don’t know about.”

I huffed in frustration. “So this is the kind of ruler the Court of Spring wants, huh? What a dreadful place to have someone know everything about you.”

Chiiyuki laughed bitterly. “She keeps the people happy, the country protected, maintains peace, traditions,the laws…everything.”

“Sounds convincing.” A less than enthusiastic remark escapes my lips.

Then, a thought crossed my mind. “Maybe we can sneak off during the Ushering of Blossoms?”

“That’s not a bad idea. My parents said Guangyan doesn’t bother sending her guards to the pier.”

I couldn’t help but question that statement. “What happened to our wonderful protector of the country?”

Silence fell over the both of us. Pale fingers tighten their grip around the wooden railing of the balcony. I notice the way Chiiyuki’s throat bobbed, years of praise ingrained into her mind restrained her true thoughts from spilling out.

“I don’t think the people even think about the pier. Maybe back then. Why think of something not worth worrying about?” Chiiyuki tensed at her own words. She raised her gaze, searching my face for reassurance.

“No…I get that. You’ve got a problem free philosophy.”

Chiiyuki chuckled nervously. “Not really, it’s just easier this way. If I turn away from it, it’s like it’s not there.”

“Yet you came back.” I stated bluntly. Stunned by my remark, Chiiyuki tensed up. Her hands clenched tightly around the rails. It took some time and searching for her to find her answer.

“It may sound ridiculous, but I feel something…” She places a hand over where her heart is. Her eyes wavered, conflicting emotions between running away or facing something were flashing through her mind.

“I have unfinished business here.”

She glanced up at me with full earnesty. I huffed. It was an unsatisfactory answer, vague and without even a glimmer of a goal.

We both fell silent for a couple of moments. Exhaustion from the long trip, as well as the day’s events were like a dark, heavy cloud above us. I’m sure we both needed some quiet time to cool off, even if it’s for a bit. As long as she was silent, I probably wouldn’t mind spending my ‘alone time’ with her.

Without any proper indications of time, I couldn’t tell what time of the day it was in the Court of Springs. Were the inhabitants getting ready to get off work? Has the day only begun? I was lucky I was only visiting, because I really needed some rest. I turned back inside the balcony, gesturing Chiiyuki to come in too so I could close the balcony door.

We both took turns washing up and getting dressed into a casual, yet comfortable set of robes- provided by the inn. I was actually pretty surprised at how advanced the bathroom was for a place that seemed stuck in the past. The tub was cylindrical and made of stone. Thin, golden veils were draped around the bath to give the illusion of privacy, and the light cascading from above made the fabric seem to shimmer. As soon as I stepped in, warm, crystalline water filled up the tub up to my shoulders in mere seconds. It was truly a surprise, a relaxing one at that. The warmth of the water made me feel like I could ease the ache in my muscles from all the walking today.

After our baths, Chiiyuki and I tucked ourselves in for the night. The magic in the room sensed that we were beginning to get a little drowsy. The lights dimmered slightly with each passing moment.

Chiiyuki turned around on her bed, facing towards me. Even with the slowly fading light, I could make out a wishful smile forming on her lips. “Leona…even if I did come here to see my parents, I’m pretty excited to celebrate this festival with you.”

I felt a bit of pride swell up in my heart. Of course she wanted me to come with her. No one else would’ve been better.

“Yeah? Better make it worthwhile.” I challenged her. My eyelids were growing heaving. It was getting harder to stay awake.

Chiiyuki was becoming sleepier too. It was then when I noticed a familiar, faint scent of first snow filling the room. Maybe some honey too. It made me feel at ease, welcoming me into a peaceful, temporary, slumber.

“It’s a promise.” I’ll make sure to show you around tomorrow, take you to all the best parts and eat lots of yummy food.” Chiiyuki yawned in between some of her words. I couldn’t help but chuckle, she was being so foolish.

The light of the room grew fainter, dimmer and then still. Now, it was time to rest.

I smirked. “Good night, fairy.”

“Night, Leona. Sweet dreams.”

#twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar #twst #twst leona #disney twst #ツイステ #twst oc #oc x canon #twst original character #twst x oc #delulu #twst fanfic #lang rambling

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dailyanarchistposts · 2 months ago

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Stance on egoism (rational/ethical) vs. altruism?

Do you think altruism is possible? If it’s not, and everything everybody does revolves around self-interest (i.e. what they will get out of it), then why not choose Ayn Rand’s Objectivism (I fucking hate it and her with a burning passion) and laissez-faire capitalism (equally hated)? As according to egoist thought, it’s unethical/immoral to put others before the self. The way it is argued seems to make it impossible to disprove or even deny. Thoughts on this?

ipc

Your question isn’t taking into an account other egoisms that exist, especially Stirner’s egoism, which is quite different that Rand’s. You are right to say that Rand’s stance was that it is unethical/immoral to be altruistic or do anything altruistic, but ethics and morality would be of no concern to Stirner in deciding what sort of action to take. So Stirner’s stance would be that one could do something altruistic if they wanted to, or they could do something non-altruistic instead, it all comes down to what that individual decides to do and this decision is made with no consideration of what is considered “good” or “bad”, “Moral”or “immoral”, “ethical” or “unethical”, etc.

ing

Let’s leave aside philosophy for a moment and go to the behaviour of animals and humans. Science have shown that animals and humans both engage in war and collaborate.

Peter Kropotkin in his book “Mutual Aid: A factor of Evolution” showed that the not so visible side of success in species survival is collaboration inside the species against others or in mere self-survival.

Egoism can be said to be the direct logical linguistic opposite of altruism yet like every binary operation it is not that simple. Max Stirner himself said: “Who, then, is “self-sacrificing?”[Literally, “sacrificing”; the German word has not the prefix “self.”] In the full sense, surely, he who ventures everything else for one thing, one object, one will, one passion. Is not the lover self-sacrificing who forsakes father and mother, endures all dangers and privations, to reach his goal? Or the ambitious man, who offers up all his desires, wishes, and satisfactions to the single passion, or the avaricious man who denies himself everything to gather treasures, or the pleasure-seeker, etc.? He is ruled by a passion to which he brings the rest as sacrifices.

And are these self-sacrificing people perchance not selfish, not egoist? As they have only one ruling passion, so they provide for only one satisfaction, but for this the more strenuously, they are wholly absorbed in it. Their entire activity is egoistic, but it is a one-sided, unopened, narrow egoism; it is possessedness.”

So one can be egoistic and also be altruistic at the same time if this things outside me is of my love or desire. It is clear “egoism” and “self interest” is involved here but of course it is also altruistic. And so for example gift economies (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gift_economy) could be superficially identified and mostly altruistic relationships but this is not exactly the case. Anarchist antropologist David Graeber when speaking about french antropologist Marcel Mauss says:

Instead, what anthropologists were discovering were societies where economic life was based on utterly different principles, and most objects moved back and forth as gifts and almost everything we would call ‘economic’ behavior was based on a pretense of pure generosity and a refusal to calculate exactly who had given what to whom. Such ‘gift economies’ could on occasion become highly competitive, but when they did it was in exactly the opposite way from our own: Instead of vying to see who could accumulate the most, the winners were the ones who managed to give the most away. In some notorious cases, such as the Kwakiutl of British Columbia, this could lead to dramatic contests of liberality, where ambitious chiefs would try to outdo one another by distributing thousands of silver brace-lets, Hudson Bay blankets or Singer sewing ma-chines, and even by destroying wealth sinking famous heirlooms in the ocean, or setting huge piles of wealth on fire and daring their rivals to do the same...In gift economies, Mauss argued, exchanges do not have the impersonal qualities of the capitalist marketplace: In fact, even when objects of great value change hands, what really matters is the relations between the people; exchange is about creating friendships, or working out rivalries, or obligations, and only incidentally about moving around valuable goods. As a result everything becomes personally charged, even property: In gift economies, the most famous objects of wealth heirloom necklaces, weapons, feather cloaks always seem to develop personalities of their own.

So gift economies include motivations that don’t appear out of something similar to “christian love” but of other “egoistic” tendencies such as the desire of prestige and recognition as well as keeping good relations with those who can help me in the future.

Hakim Bey thus establishes this bridge in this way:

The essence of the party: face-to-face, a group of humans synergize their efforts to realize mutual desires, whether for good food and cheer, dance, conversation, the arts of life; perhaps even for erotic pleasure, or to create a communal artwork, or to attain the very transport of bliss—in short, a ‘union of egoists’ (as Stirner put it) in its simplest form—or else, in Kropotkin’s terms, a basic biological drive to ‘mutual aid.’ (Here we should also mention Bataille’s ‘economy of excess’ and his theory of potlatch culture.)

So a union of egoists is a form of mutual aid. Mutual Aid is not the same as “christian love”. Mutual aid is something done in the self-interest of both sides.

squ

I am not satisfied with the paradoxical assumptions of subjectivity that support the concept of altruism. But, I am also not satisfied with a constrained concept of subjectivity/self/ego/”I” (from now on just “ego”). This is all tied up in the way that I understand subjectivity to begin with.

That what we recognize as the ego is an expression of complicated cognitive processes which make it possible for the boundaries of ego to fluctuate: that the ego is capable of identifying with, appropriating, connecting, or otherwise expanding to include other minds, bodies, objects, and images. From the studies in developmental psychology that I’ve read, it appears that the ego shrinks through development as theory of mind develops, as a sense of self recedes from an undifferentiated identification with all that is perceived. And from other studies of subjectivity the ego appears capable of redefining its boundaries to various extents: whether as a transcendental experience, a psychotic break, consummate love (sometimes), empathy, and/or less powerful experiences of identification with others.

So, if the ego is more of this sort of concept, then egoism is also less bound. If my sense of self can expand to include you (or at the very least, my self-image and the image of you are intricately bound up with each other), then my behavior is no longer towards you... but towards myself. At the same time, if my sense of self doesn’t expand to include you and I regard you as an other, I would enter into a self-other relationship and be more or less consider-ate. I could reason that my self-interests include the happiness of those around me and wind up with an ‘enlightened self-interest’ or I could reason that it’s better to be calloused towards the conditions of others and wind up with a ethic like Ayn Rand’s.

If the ego is fairly amorphous and an ethics rooted in a static ego is embraced, is that being true to the ego? Even worse, if the ego is the expression of more fundamental psychological patterns that use it for their unknown fulfillment... is it really the ego that can be the grounds for an ethics? What if ego and environment are so intricately entangled that it would make more sense to comprehend them as shades of a common experience and not actually separate beings?

Why not choose Ayn Rand’s Objectivism? Who the fuck wants to live in a world filled with miserable people?

Why put others before the self? Interdependence... my existence depends upon some others to such an extent that there is no clean cut in our reciprocal relations.

Is altruism possible? Only to the extent that it includes the ego, even if that inclusion is through some sort of identification.

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ms-scarletwings · 1 year ago

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Dave the Diver: On Aberrations

Between a scattering of recently discovered islands rests a jewel of paradise, mystery, and a hint of exotic danger. The famous Blue Hole has found a name for itself among the most envied tourist destinations among the world, with a gorgeous view, thrills to experience, and rich natural resources… but on a day like this, the scene has become anything but recognizable as the bustling hub described. That is because a ponderous fog has decided to linger over the lagoon by the time my vessel reaches port.

Despite the warm weather, I could feel my hairs standing on end from the very moment the clouds had enveloped our ship. Aside from the occasional day like this, fog horns would usually be a rare sound to hear across the bay. Since the discovery of the area, vacationers have enjoyed a tropical climate punctuated by mild storms. It all paints a picture so drastically unlike the eerie one I have pursued to this end. By sunset, I know that the white mist outside will give way to a crimson haze. With it, begins the investigation into the unusual animals only spotted on previous fogged nights: What familiar aberrants have made their way to the region, what are they capable of, and to where they fit within the additional puzzle of Blue Hole’s astounding ecosystem.

The Fog Coast, Part One

The hour is roughly 10pm, and “Blue” Hole has turned to a sight otherworldly. Thick, red vapors and an eerie silence hang in place of what was a starlight sky over the whistles of dolphins a mere night ago. The locals claim that the lagoon is an inscrutable locale, whose underwater geography both hosts an impossible collection of species and undergoes rapid, unexplained changes every few hours. On a night of crimson fog, it has been made enigmatic even from the surface view. Rocks easily seen by daylight make sailing close to the shorelines a hazardous endeavor along a coast with no lighthouse or other navigational indicators. It is a coastal venture treacherous, but also rewarding, for much more hides under these waves than the rocks. A watery gyre is barely seen at the edge of shiplight, and at its core, I have heard there can be found treasures far more interesting than mere gold.

• Encyclopedia Entry No. 83, 84

[Testimony of a local fisherman]

“Now it’s not unusual for cod to happen up close to the shores at night. Obviously, I was hoping for it or I wouldn’t have been fishing in that stuff, but there was something else going on with these fish. Something not right. They weren’t taking to the bait, but they just kept coming up closer. Like they were trying best they could to get up on my ankles without getting stranded. Almost like they see someone standing on the beach and that’s all they’re interested in. Not that I let them, but they got close enough to tell something ugly about them. The only thing I managed to get hooked snapped my line before I could figure out what I was even looking at, other than big teeth and nasty looking eyes.“

Analysis: Our first descriptive cases of mutated cod corroborated with archived specimens from off the coast of Greater Marrow. Though there are instances where residents have managed to capture these codfish whole and live, no success has been found in attempting to keep them or any other mutated fish in captivity, due to their propensity to die shortly after they are harvested from the ocean. The two ‘flavors’ of tainted cod found here include the Fanged and Three-Headed variants, with no cases of hypertrophy. Their behavior has observed to feature heightened predatory behavior, to the point of stalking and testing large animals as oppurtunistic targets. They approach sluggishly at first, and lunge to close distances. They pose some hazard to swimmers, notably the unarmed, but can be reeled or netted as readily as any scrod. The three-headed cods are generally larger than the fanged variant, and both can be found close to the surface during a fog night.

• Encyclopedia Entry No. 79, 80

[We join the crew of a commercial trawler, company left unnamed to permit this revord of the onboard operations. As the ship coasts upon the outskirts of one of the smaller outcrops, fishermen gather at the fresh haul to do their work. Mackerel from all global ranges and climates incredulously line the deck of the vessel, meticulously sorted into an array of containers. One worker calls out as an unusual sight is plucked from the pile- a brown shiner with half a dozen too many eyes for an average fish. The bosun indicates for me a specific container the individual is packed into. What I find there is a collection of similar wretches, scales still twitching and mouths gasping wet with a shimmering fluid.]

“We don’t actually come across that many of them in the nets. One for about every hundred of the healthy ones. Their meat is considered tainted and has to be separated from the catch, but we aren’t allowed to return them to the environment either. They’ll stay on ice for now, later today they’ll be dropped off with a merchant who’s agreed to handle the… disposal.”

Analysis: In spite of the sheer diversity of mackerel to be seen at Blue Hole, these turned pacific mackerel are the only shared species between Greater Marrow and this living collection in such regard. Specifically, the Many-Eyed and Grotesque mackerels found in shallower coastal water. Like most aberrants, they are prone to agitation and exhibit territorial, if not predatory aggression at first contact. Like all aberrations, their blood runs a purple hue, and their sightings dry up once the fog has dissipated.

• Encyclopedia Entry No. 91, 92

[Shared anecdote from a lionfish diver]

“You have to really love a place like Blue Hole to do what I do. A lot of people don’t think of lionfish as an invasive species here, but they can do real damage to reefs where they’re not native, and ours are no exception. Worse still is that they’re far more aggressive here than anywhere else in the world, and not any less venomous. I thought if anyone was prepared to do a part in protecting local animals from these new pests, why not me? And yeah, I bagged a few. I speared things with a few too many eyes, a few too many heads, a few too many teeth. I found these great big ugly fish with no eyes at all that still would come right at you. And then I saw a… thing. The thing, Reason I don’t go night diving anymore. Came out of the dark like a ghost, black bones and green light. It didn’t look like something that should have even been real. I was lining a shot up and I felt like my arm had taken a lion’s barb. I didn’t even know what happened, that thing sparked, and I felt pure pain pulse through half of my body. Everything was panic after that. Panic to get back up and the hell out of the water. Fingers were still tingling almost until morning. All I know that I know is, I’m sticking to day hunting.”

Analysis: What’s to be expected was found in observation of the Tusked grouper. Despite their blindness, they show no hesitance to begin tracking and pursuing any nearby disturbance of water they sense. While their sole offensive boast is a strong mouth full of elongated teeth, the Voltaic variant wields a far less conventional weapon. When approached to a range of a couple of meters, it is capable of discharging a potent shock. Likely, this is utilized both as a defensive and hunting technique, similar to the currents produced by an electric eel. Similar accounts have attested to this stunning capability, reporting temporary paralytic effects from direct contact with the fish. Mechanism of this ability remains unknown. Especial caution recommended in presence of Voltaic grouper, not only for the risk of attack, but also from the drowning hazard posed by their stray arcs.

#aberrant fish #dave the diver #Dave the diver dlc #dredge game #grotesque fish #scarlet talks about things #grotesque mackerel #fanged cod #many eyed mackerel #three headed cod #tusked grouper #voltaic grouper #dredge fanfic #sorta kinda??????#long post

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irenethewoman · 2 years ago

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Mrs. Shelby- Chapter Five- Closer

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He had even propositioned me for sex once, which left me astounded at how straightforward and direct people could be about relationships in this place. I refused, firmly believing it wasn't John who had impregnated Martha before their marriage.

During meetings, I often played absentmindedly with a pen, tuning in and out, occasionally voicing support for Thomas and attempting to persuade others. I swear, my agreement with Thomas was purely professional and unrelated to our love life. Polly always deemed Thomas's ideas as reckless. She confided in me that if given the chance, she could sway Thomas and ease his tension. But I knew the truth. The arms we possessed were both an asset and a danger. Used wisely, they could pave the way for us; mishandled, they could obliterate us. To make these weapons more impactful, we needed to engage in more complex maneuvers, and Thomas was merely leading us to a higher-stakes chessboard.

Late at night, we would steal moments to kiss secretly in the deserted kitchen. "We don't need to be so discreet," Thomas would complain for the fourth time that day. His voice, deep and charming, never failed to captivate me. I would cup his face, offer a reassuring kiss, and then attend to the stove.

"If people knew we were together," I'd say while pouring steaming milk into his cup, "they'd think I support you out of love, and my words would carry no weight."

"Is that so?" He raised an eyebrow disapprovingly. "Oh, Mr. Shelby, never underestimate a woman," I sighed, "I'll use my brains to think and my heart to love you. Supporting you and loving you are separate matters."

He sipped his milk, and the topic was set aside. We both knew there were many issues to address, and dwelling on them was fruitless. Thomas sometimes shared my father's belief that women didn't grasp their men's work, so they should provide love and a stable home. Changing Thomas in such a short time was improbable, and honestly, I didn't want to. Despite his occasional vexations—like never uttering sweet words to me, loitering in my office, and sometimes using his sharp tongue—I cherished those imperfections that only I knew. They added warmth to the otherwise cold and ruthless gang leader.

He was my little prince, concealing a sea of sorrow in his eyes. "I heard there's a witchcraft girl in Garrison Lane," he mentioned, pulling me into his arms and placing me on his lap. "But that's Chinese territory."

I couldn't help but try to maintain Thomas's composure. He was just as obstinate as I was, even though I wasn't entirely committed to the task Polly had entrusted to me.

"Calm down, Thomas. Be patient, my dear, and remember not to be pushy. After all, we're the ones seeking assistance."

"Will the great diplomat accompany me tomorrow?" Thomas's hand ventured up my thigh again. "I'll be going to the bar to check the accounts tomorrow."

I swatted his hand away, stood up, and retrieved his empty milk glass. "Remember to give Boy Monaghan two coins."

"Boy Monaghan seems more like your son," I remarked, giving him an odd look. What was going on with him? Was he jealous of his horse?

"I don't mind if you consider yourself a stallion," I teased. Looking at Thomas's deflated expression, I couldn't help but laugh with a touch of schadenfreude. "Ha! Even Heath's venomous little prince can have his moments."

"I'm not sharing this with you to be mocked, my dear," Thomas said as he stood up and positioned me between himself and the sink. "When we have a son, I'll tell him to learn from my past."

"You really should," I replied, hooking my arms around his neck and accepting his kiss.

Tommy's strategy worked. The horse racing business thrived like never before, with people flocking to place bets on the Monaghan boy. People tended to fear and revere things they didn't understand, like the Witch of the East and the Pink Blessing. These laborers were afraid of poverty, and at the first glimpse of hope, they flocked to it. But dreams of a better future were often illusions, a disguised trap.

John continuously updated the odds and shouted in front of the blackboard, while I worked diligently below, tallying, making change, and keeping records. Originally, John had only asked for my assistance in record-keeping, but now, I was busier than ever.

It wasn't until Thomas tapped me on the shoulder that I realized he had returned. "Are you alone?"

"Your men are too slow and getting in the way," I replied, continuing my work. Then, as I handed out winnings to the gamblers, he gestured toward another table. I instructed several men to handle the gamblers who couldn't reach my table.

"If you ask me, it's better to let them play with Finn. Finn is bored out there alone," John chimed in. When he saw Thomas return, John excitedly abandoned his post and snatched the account book from my hands. "Look, Tommy! Everyone's betting on the Monaghan Kid!"

He was as excited and proud as if his shouting had single-handedly drawn everyone to bet on the horse. Although I was also involved in orchestrating this gambling operation and understood the whole picture, facing the constant stream of people and coins, I couldn't help but smile and glance up at Thomas. He returned my smile and was summoned to a corner by Arthur. I could guess what Arthur would say, even if Thomas was immune to anyone's persuasion. Thomas genuinely desired recognition and approval from his family rather than criticism. But I couldn't just walk away, so I kept an eye on him.

"I'm calling a family meeting at eight o'clock tonight! I expect everyone to attend! We're in trouble! Do you hear me!" I watched Thomas leave without looking back at Arthur's proclamation. He didn't even glance my way. My little prince was genuinely angry.

"And you, Diana, you're invited too. We've been busy from ten in the morning until five in the evening."

"Clearly, you're more of a capitalist exploiting your workers than Thomas," I retorted, biting into the chocolate I

had brought with me. Thomas might drag me into hard work, but at least he provided me with sustenance.

"I'm just being generous to you," John replied, eyeing the account book with satisfaction. "What would you like to eat tonight?"

"You should go all out since you're treating. I'd like to go to Garrison Lane for some Chinese cuisine." I realized that I needed to investigate Thomas's stance, and the Chinese in Garrison Lane could provide valuable information. We had always advocated peace as our top priority. If cooperation was possible, we needn't resort to violence. Though I had been forced to endure the smell of burnt tobacco all day, I was the first to exit the horse racing betting station, only to find Polly waiting by the door. Just as I was about to greet her, she pulled me behind her and pointed a gun swiftly at John.

"Polly... What are you doing?" I exclaimed.

"Do you recognize this gun?" Polly asked John, ignoring my presence.

John nodded, and Polly proceeded to strike him hard, knocking him to the ground. Ouch! It was painful to watch. It turned out that Finn had discovered John's unsecured gun on a sideboard while we were working at the horse racing betting station, nearly causing an accidental discharge that could have harmed Ada. After learning about this incident, I became even more resolute about sending those useless men to watch over Finn.

"I understand that it's tough for you to raise four children on your own, but it's no walk in the park for me either," I said, trying to maintain composure. "Well, you're the one who decided to feed them. I don't have an easy time either."

Every time I thought about John's four children, I couldn't help but think of Martha and Maria. It had been three months since Martha's passing, and I still missed her dearly. She had been like a sister to me, patiently addressing my concerns, teaching me how to cook and clean, and reading with me in her spare time. Sometimes, Ada and I would accompany her to deliver meals to the beggars. She was a genuinely good person, too beautiful to belong in a place like this, yet John seemed to have forgotten her, only remembering Liz Stark. Stark often visited brothels, and sometimes Liz would come to help take care of the children. She once let slip that John, on one of his drunken nights, had muttered, "I'm sorry, Martha."

As for little Maria... Thomas and I had become wild and less available for her since falling in love. As Thomas's secretary, I had little time to keep her company. The poor girl was left to care for her brothers after her mother's death. I hoped she could enjoy a more carefree life, playing with kids her age, using her allowance to buy candies, and being pampered when she returned home. But it seemed I had broken my promise.

John and I were in very different moods. We ended up at a restaurant to eat, driven by John's low spirits. Then I found myself sitting at the conference table, lost in thought, as usual. The Shelbys had grown accustomed to my distant demeanor.

Until Thomas handed me a flyer. "If you're over five feet tall and can fight, come to Birmingham."

It seemed the Chief Inspector had arrived with ulterior motives and couldn't be dismissed lightly. He knew that the local police were mostly Shelby men and couldn't be trusted, so he had brought his own force. Thomas claimed he was here to clean up the city, to rid it of the remnants of Irish rebels and figures like Freddy Thorne. But we both knew that these were secondary concerns. He was primarily after the arms. John, however, seemed to have an inflated sense of importance. The Birmingham Peaky Blinders Gang was indeed a legal entity in the city, but there were larger and more powerful gangs in London and throughout the UK. Compared to those groups, the Irish rebels, and the ambitious Germans, we were merely a group of joint gamblers. We were a motley crew with no official racing licenses; we were nothing.

I sighed, touched by a sense of nostalgia as I recollected my earlier life. In India and Germany, I had seen politicians cover their tracks with bloodshed and was familiar with such tactics. The key was to negotiate rather than confront. Those who set the terms first often lost out. Regardless of Thomas's decision, I would stand by his side throughout this dark journey. I wasn't an inherently determined person, but Thomas had given me a second chance when I was down, providing me with a good life. I had joined him without hesitation, abandoning the ideals I had clung to for 15 years. But Thomas Shelby, unless he betrayed me first, would never lose my loyalty. The reason might be what Polly had pointed out on Christmas Eve in 1914: "You're a lot like him." I had found another version of myself, and from then on, I loved and protected him unconsciously, even to death. It suddenly struck me that if my father knew his eldest daughter, whom he had high hopes for, had fallen in love with a gang leader with gypsy blood and loved him to the point of death, he would be furious, his beard bristling with anger, and he might even rise from the grave. The thought of that scenario amused me.

"Did I do something wrong, Diana?" I heard Thomas whisper softly. His voice had never sounded so fragile and helpless, and it tugged at my heartstrings. He had once fought for the king's glory, but now he fought for his family's better future. He projected a tough, cold, bloodthirsty persona, but I knew better. Tommy enjoyed teasing me, giving coins to blind beggars, and asking for kisses as he walked me home. I extended my hand and placed it on his head, an affectionate gesture.

I held my head high, like a warrior, and gazed directly into the eyes of the Virgin Mary. "Tommy," I turned my head and kissed his ear, "Tommy, honey, you know what to do. You've always known."

"What if there's hell ahead?" He raised his head from my arms, and I met his gaze with unwavering resolve. "There won't be hell ahead, Tommy. Not now, not ever, as long as we live, as long as we want."

God had ignored my pleas in the past, subjecting me to hardship in foreign lands. He allowed evil to thrive and tried to break me with harsh living conditions. But I had endured, thrived, and would continue to do so in the future. I pushed him away before our kiss could sour. Practice made perfect; I knew his movements and thoughts well. "Please, we can't do this here..." I wiped my mouth, feeling embarrassed. Making love in a church? He couldn't fathom it. Although my faith in God's capabilities and attentiveness had waned in 1914, I wasn't ready to make love so blatantly and defiantly within a sacred place. Besides, it was my first time with Thomas. What would the church think? "I don't believe in God," Tommy protested. "Yes," I raised an eyebrow, "but we still have some decency. At the very least, let's go home. Before coming to Birmingham, I had always assumed I would spend my wedding night with my husband. On a soft and

comfortable bed adorned with freshly picked roses and surrounded by candlelight, it would just be me and my lover. When the day finally came, I found that there was nothing but my lover and a small, uncomfortable bed.

"I haven't heard the shovel digging into the wall in a long time," Tommy murmured in my ear.

"Really? That's my contribution." Despite the sun streaming in through the church's windows, warming me, I didn't want to leave the bed. I simply rolled over, curling up in Tommy's arms and reaching out to hug him back. Thomas Shelby had a strong scent of tobacco about him, sometimes mingled with the malty aroma of whiskey and spirits, all intermingled with the scent of my perfume, creating a strangely intoxicating blend. There was a bullet scar on the back of his left shoulder and an enigmatic black sun totem tattoo on his left chest, but his arms felt like the safest place in the world. I enjoyed the feeling of his strong, powerful arms holding me like this, our skin touching, exchanging a tender and profound kiss as we greeted each other with a heartfelt "good morning."

"Good morning, my virgin queen."

"Good morning, my little prince."

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #cillian murphy #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #fanfiction

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ithinkineedamoment · 8 months ago

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1. Neon Bible - Arcade Fire

1 of 1000 - Recordings

This project is almost 15 years in the making. Had I been wiser at the debilitating age of 12, I’m sure writing for the sake of writing would have come to me a hell of a lot more naturally than it does now.

Regardless of that, it looks like a 26 year old me is finally getting around to it.

At the tail end of 2010 - I was living in Ramstein, Germany where I found a copy of Tom Moon’s 1000 Recordings to Hear Before You Die. I (my dad) bought it for $15 and there I went becoming evermore insufferable thinking I’m the first person who ever discovered 10 by Pearl Jam. I quickly found two more versions of the “1000... before you die” list - movies and places. Armed with these three lists, I set out to conquer the “best” of the “best” and do obviously do it before I die.

Lofty goals.

But I’ll unpack that I’m sure in a later essay.

Since that time, I’ve plowed through 430 albums, 574 movies, and 142 places. But what of it? What does it matter? Is it enough to watch “Schindler’s List” in a double feature with “The Sound of Music” once and think I can fully process what I’ve experienced? Fuck no!

So in an effort to combat that insanity - I’m starting this project. I will write something on each and every entry of these lists. Will some be long? Absolutely. Will some be short? I hope so. But what is the point of consuming what is meant to be essentials of a lifetime and not give it a second thought? There is of course the argument that these lists are arbitrary and are actually heinously filtered through the lens of old, Cis, straight, white men and women. This idea will undoubtedly come up several if not a thousand times and I don’t think I can ignore it. What I’ve gained, however, from venturing down this yellow brick road of content is greater than the sum of its parts and that is what is interesting to me. How has inundating myself with this “canon” for most of my life shaped who I am and where has it led me?

So as an artist who is constantly stonewalled by the mere act of creation, I asked myself - where do I start? How does this project begin?

Randomly, obviously. I had Sergio scroll through the lists and pick whatever caught his eye.

Somehow, picking Neon Bible by Arcade Fire makes sense.

With this very first entry I begin with The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, the 2013 adventure comedy starring and directed by our pal Ben Stiller. For the uninitiated, this movie features Ben Stiller as Walter Mitty, an employee at Life magazine who is forced on a Carmen San Diego-esque adventure to find Sean Penn in the mountains taking pictures of snow leopards. And it ROCKS.

Everything from the settings to the humor to Adam Scott’s haircut screams the spirit of adventure. I remember sitting in the theater watching this movie having goose bumps down my arms as Mr. Stiller ran for that plane - reading the Life Magazine motto: “To see the world, things dangerous to come to, to see behind walls, to draw closer, to find each other, and to feel, that is the purpose of life.”

Fuck meeee, it’s good.

My depressed ass sat there smiling and crying - thinking of how much of the world was out there - all the places I’ve never been and the adventures I’ve never been on. It was enough to keep me going, even if it was only for the rest of the day.

The part that I really want to draw attention to, however, is the song that plays over the scene that I just mentioned. As the words of the motto appear hidden in the scenery, a sick fucking guitar lick kicks in. Suddenly, the absolutely bonkers Arcade Fire hit, “Wake Up” is blaring through the speakers and I am transcended. From their 2005 debut album Funeral, “Wake Up” has been included on all sorts of best songs of 2004, the decade, the century, of all time lists. With lyrics touching on the embarrassment of youth and the gift of growing up, it’s one of the most inspirational songs I’ve ever heard...

(until I listened to the soundtrack and realized that to SOME people, the song “Wake Up” was never in the movie and instead the absolutely DNA-altering Jose Gonzalez song, “Step Out” took its place. Dear Reader, please note it’s a detail I’m moving on from since these songs exist simultaneously in my head for the same reason and since I have Google I found out a licensing issue made us all watch a different version of the movie. Leave me alone).

Ever since that day - whenever I’ve embarked on a new journey, I’ve played these songs. When my plane took off from Germany back to the states, when I walked on my college campus for the first time, whenever I start a new job - they become the soundtrack to my life. “Children, Wake up” to “House on fire leave it all behind you”. It’s the music to my proverbial first steps into my new life.

So again, it’s fitting then, that the first recording, the very first essay of this project, is Neon Bible by Arcade Fire. Their sophomore album released in 2007, Neon Bible is an extrospective triumph of organs and religiosity exposing the world for what it truly is in this post-9/11 hellscape. Full of angst and persistent drums, it’s truly no wonder how this album crosses the boundaries of what is Indie and what is mainstream.

Relistening to the album this morning and thinking about this project, it almost makes too much sense to start here despite its randomness. Take for example the opening track, “Black Mirror” which in my sleep depravity I could have sworn was the intro to “Changes” by David Bowie. Here, Win Butler muses on the notion of the “black mirror”, an unrelenting echo of all the worst parts of ourselves and our world. Impossible to separate from the contemporary connotations of the words “black mirror”, we quickly realize this album is not interested in the joyous release of

Funeral. We’re confronted with screens, cameras, and content - the black mirror of a sleeping iphone or of a buffering video. What does it mean to see ourselves in that reflection? We’re beholden to it.

As we continue through the album, we’re bombarded with rising crescendos of emotions that dissipate uneasily like unlit waves at night - “Black Wave”. There is no comforting exaltation or resolution of discord. It’s isolating! Butler says so himself in “Intervention”: “We’ll go at it alone”. As the number of black mirrors around us increases, the time spent as an individual also increases. It’s interesting that so much of the imagery evoked in Neon Bible is that of the ocean - black, reflective, ever expansive. This brings to mind another song from a few years later: Los Campesinos!’s “The Sea is a Good Place to Think of the Future.” It should be obvious enough from the title as to why I think this is relevant. The rocking guitar of this jam sways back and forth like the crashing of waves as the lyrics wax poetic on what it means to be alone - “and all you can hear, is the sound of your own heart” - and how hopelessly small you can feel in front of an unchanging ocean before you - “A thousand years, no getting rid of me”.

This cynicism, this anger, I feel is what fuels this album. There is no joy in the face of the “Ocean of Noise” in front of us. There is no reconciliation at the church of the “Neon Bible.” There is nothing new I can say on our modern relationship with technology or media here that hasn’t been said already in a New York Times Op-ed. We are losing control of ourselves to an ocean of influences, media, thoughts, and content. We can scream, and we can shout, but the only escape - according to Arcade Fire - is the place where “No Cars Go”, the liminal space between turning off the lights and before we fall asleep. There, we are finally free from the world and all its power over us. This is the craven freedom that brings the album its only truly joyous song.

So I guess it’s now that I’ve realized the point of this essay - the point of this whole project. I’ve spent years of my life thumping the bible of a church that doesn’t care about me. These lists have become a religion - a system of other people’s beliefs in what should be exalted and glorified. I’ve consumed the content I was told to consume and thought what I was told to think. I don’t think that I’m alone in wanting to challenge “the canon” either. There will always be an unavoidable conflict between what is experienced and what should be experienced; I’m just no longer interested in justifying one over the other. I refuse to let the ocean carry me away. Just as Arcade Fire has ushered me into new phases of my life, Arcade Fire will now usher in a personal rebellion that hopefully will manifest itself across this project where I can Reflektor on what it means to be me.

I have no idea what this rebellion will look like - but my body will no longer be its cage.

#1001 movies #1001 albums #1001 places #neon Bible #arcade fire #walter mitty #funeral #Jose Gonzalez #wake up #essay

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lyaiozpress · 9 months ago

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Thabang Swarts: The Rise of Ranger

No justice can be served from what`s already written about Ranger. Before we get to this roof, Draper, known as Thabang Manyelo needs to be acknowledged. His birthday is on the 6th of August, so be sure to make it special. You didn't hear it from us.

Mr Manyelo has been a potent force in the advertising industry. I must honor his contributions as a Global Award-Winning Creative, voice-over Artist, co-creator, innovator, and writer in a different post. I believe he is the bridge for the "unheard" and I look forward to sharing my observations but for now, until then.

In the vibrant tapestry of contemporary music, Thabang Swarts, affectionately known as Ranger, emerges as a luminary whose artistry transcends conventional boundaries. Born in 1999, this prodigious talent is not merely a DJ or producer; he embodies the spirit of innovation within the realm of Amapiano and Hip Hop. His journey is marked by an intriguing backstory that intertwines ambition, passion, and an unwavering commitment to his craft.

Interestingly, Ranger’s moniker does not stem from notions of danger or recklessness; rather, it reflects his initial aspirations to become a game ranger. This pursuit speaks volumes about his connection to nature and the environment—a theme that subtly influences his artistic expression. However, recognizing the urgency to harness his innate musical abilities, he made the pivotal decision to pause his studies. This choice underscores a profound understanding that sometimes one must venture into uncharted territories to discover their true calling.

Ranger’s artistry is characterized by an adventurous spirit—an eagerness to explore new sonic landscapes within Amapiano and Hip Hop. He approaches music with what he describes as “naïve intelligence” suggesting that he values fresh perspectives over traditional experience. This philosophy allows him to experiment boldly, crafting sounds that resonate with authenticity while pushing the envelope of genre conventions. His work is not just about creating tracks; it’s about teaching the world new elements of music that have yet to be fully realized.

His dedication to hard work is palpable in every performance. When Ranger takes the stage, he doesn’t merely play music; he ignites an experience that captivates audiences and leaves them yearning for more. His sets are infused with undeniable brilliance—each beat meticulously crafted, each transition seamless—creating an atmosphere where listeners can lose themselves in rhythm and melody.

As we look toward the future, it becomes increasingly clear that Ranger is poised for greatness. He represents a new generation of artists who aren`t afraid to challenge norms and redefine what it means to be a musician in today’s world. For those who appreciate innovation and seek out emerging talents, Ranger is undoubtedly a name worth remembering—and shouting from the rooftops.

To end the beginning of such a grace, Thabang Swarts—Ranger—is not just another name in the industry; he symbolizes a movement toward authenticity and exploration in music. As he continues on this path, one can only anticipate how far his journey will take him and how many hearts he will touch along the way.

And I am entitled to have my informed opinion but "Chela" which means "drink" as shared by Draper himself deserves a Grammy. I wouldn`t have known this song without Didi Lifestyle, another post-loading as only mentioning him as DJ would be offensive to the spirit.

To indulge in this otic odyssey, please click the link:

My heart is full. The House District appreciates your contribution and foundation to our sonic landscape. We are excited for South Africa. Honestly, what a transcendence! The future of house music is indeed in safe hands.

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bluberryblurays · 10 months ago

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Why Shi Qingxuan IS TGCF's Plum Blossom

Heaven’s Plum Blossom❀➢

Throughout Heaven’s Official Blessing Shi Qingxuan’s character represents both uplifting joy and resilience in the face of unimaginable hardship, the same values as the plum tree’s blossoms. During his first appearance as a character, Qingxuan works to defend Xie Lian –our protagonist– and also defend the truth. He then is seen further assisting Xie Lian through their adventures in Ghost City, bringing a characteristic flair and positivity to the third realm. He then faces unimaginable hardship, imprisonment in the Black Water Demon lair, and loss of godhood. But even as a beggar, as a mere mortal. Qingxuan showcases that flair and positivity still kept his positive outlook, and still fought for the greater good.

We met Qingxuan disguised as a lady during the Banyue Pass arc of the series, and from that point forward he was characterized by the greater good and his positivity. When all of heaven is called to meet before Jun Wu in the Palace of Divine Might, Qingxuan defends Xie Lian and the true events of Banyue Pass unfazed by the threats from Pei Ming, unwavering in his defense. From these early moments we are informed that Qingxuan’s guiding ideals are pure, and that he is a agent for the greater good.

Immediately following this arc we see Qingxuan alongside Xie Lian venture into Ghost City to investigate a distress signal scene in that region. Another dangerous task he takes up even without being a combat focused martial god. Throughout this whole arc we see Qingxuan assist Xie Lian and face their challenges with bravery and optimism. He doesn’t shy away from the unknown dangers hidden in ghost city, all because someone else's life was on the line, someone they weren’t even sure was still alive. And all the while he keeps his characteristic flair, from costume changes to gender changes, Qingxuan’s look remains a defining portion of his identity.

We next time Qingxuan is seen of substantively is in the beginning of the Black Water arc, where he in ernest meets strife. From betrayal by his best friend, to discovery of his brother’s deceit, Qingxuan is repeatedly bombarded with hard choices, hard to swallow information, and we finally see his joyous stature falter. In the start of this arc, we see Qingxuan try to keep a hold on positivity while he jokes with Ming Yi and makes Xie Lian and Hua Cheng play a silly game. But after he is imprisoned twice, we see him react to his dangerous circumstance more logically, with fear. But even while in the disgusting prison of the Black Water Demon Lair, Qingxuan’s appearance still signals the purity he represents, his white robes being a point of contrast against the muddy prisoners around him. Even when he is knocked down, he still represents that perseverance.

The last appearance we see of Qingxuan is in the mortal capitol, where beaten, bruised and a beggar, he still offers to put his life on the line for others. He is the first, and the leader of the rest of his beggar colony to join the fight against the spirits of Mt. Tonglu. Qingxuan shows his dedication to the greater good, and his pure spirit with his unwavering desire to help others, a desire unswayed by being a mortal ejected from heaven. During this meeting we also see his symbolic appearance take importance again, with his bright teal eyes serving as the shibboleth to alert Xie Lian to his identity. Once again, even in times of extreme strife and when he has been knocked down as far as anyone could possibly be, he still wants to help, he still shines brightly if even through just his eyes.

Now this is all true, but how does that relate to the plum blossom? In the cultural traditions of both Chinese and Japanese culture, the Plum Blossom represents the ideals of perseverance and hope, just like Qingxuan. As the first flowers to blossoms in late winter and early spring, their bright colors poking out from the dead environment signal the hope of a forthcoming spring. Plum blossoms also represent purity of the mind and the ability to elegantly overcome challenges as they do when blooming in winter. Qingxuan’s ideals of the greater good, and his flair ever present when fighting against even the harshest of evils perfectly exemplifies this.

Through both his actions and appearance Qingxuan’s identity is intrinsically that of the Plum Blossom. Perseverance through hardship, grace, bravery, elegance, hope and purity are words equally interchangeable between the two. When looking at Qingxuan, you shouldn’t just see him as a supporting character in the book series, but see him as the purest form of good and the most representative god in heaven of the greater good. His elegant problem solving, dedication to helping mortals, and commitment to the greater good even when in the face of indomitable evil shows why Qingxuan, falsely ascended, is most deserving of godhood. if you found this remotely interesting, give it a kudo on Ao3!

#tgcf #heavens official blessing #shi qingxuan #character essay #character study #tgcf character essay #sqx

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askbeannuts · 1 year ago

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I lost track of how long we'd been there, searching, risking our safety every. Single. Time. Just to find SOMETHING, ANYTHING… Eventually, we had to give up, we had to tell others what had happened. It wouldn't be our responsibility alone, and word would eventually spread as we told anyone who would listen… some rightfully tried to accuse us of tricking Shaymin… of… killing her… but there were those who didn't believe that, they could tell by own words, actions and body language that we were not lying or hiding a crime… Shaymin… I refuse to believe she is gone… I REFUSE…! The following days were a blur, all I could remember was talks of a library, and a young Charizard seeking allies… I never paid them any mind, it wasn't worth my time, how good would someone, a failure like myself, be for saving others from crime? Despite my despair, however, those two fellows who traveled there with me, worked with me to venture into that dungeon after Shaymin far too many times to count, weren't letting me wallow alone. They talked to me about forming a team, their roles as cartographers were being taken over by far more qualified individuals, or so they told me… what kind of team would we form? Joining this "Xerneas Guild" or whatever? I remember asking something along those lines, but the two refused-they felt their mapping knowledge could be put to use elsewhere… the Dungeons.

I scoffed at this claim, but they insisted… the entire time we were venturing in and out of the dungeon forming in Shaymin's domain, it did not change, it wasn't until… that--I decided to entertain the two… dungeoneering was dangerous, no one would do so, but we could potentially gain resources from them if we did this, we could even, maybe one day… take back the lands we left behind… wishful thinking, but it was… something that kept my mind off of reality, at least for a moment. I agreed to forming a team, but I wasn't ready for that, not yet, so instead, I suggested we travel this new world. If we were going to risk everything venturing into these dungeons, we'd need to know the populace we'd be helping… that was my reasoning at least… and it seemed to work… while I agreed to join them… I still had resignations about doing such work… I'd failed so many times… how would now be different?

With the help of our Pidgeot friend, we traveled to the Southern Islands, explored them as well as we wished, though many of them were small and near empty in terms of civilization. We came to learn that many Pokémon decided to leave the moment they gained the ability to do so, and sought out their friends or family that were scattered by the chaos-wishful thinkers. These islands were mostly empty, quiet… too much so for me, I wanted to leave for better lands myself… it makes me laugh thinking back on things now.

The Eastern Isles… we weren't there long.

I had heard that to the West, the Tree of Life allowed Pokémon to evolve, and that the "trial" as some called it varied by those who ventured in, what caused them was still a mystery. Some even claimed to hear voices… it was all too strange for me, but the idea of venturing through that dungeon, the tree where heroes-mere children-saved this world from a cruel fate, was exciting to my companions. I really wonder if they were merely trying to cheer me up… their willingness to help me seek out Shaymin aside… I prayed I didn't steal them away from a good life to follow me into danger. Among the other islands, communities formed around dungeons that they could mine for resources… I couldn't help but laugh at the idea of "infinite resources" from a dungeon… even if there was some truth to it… wouldn't it be dangerous to just dig away like this for too long? If we did form a Guild-as my companions were starting to suggest in idle chatter-we would definitely have a dedicated safety team here, or many teams… but that's a future I haven't even begun to fathom yet. One curious note aside from this, were groups of species or types gathering together… their numbers were horrifyingly low and they seemed eager to find ways to save themselves from going extinct.

The answers to their goals were obvious, though I'd heard not all of these groups stayed in the West and some found ways to fly to wherever they pleased. I feel a long-term method to sky travel in groups won't be far off with the ways these Pokémon are wishing to travel, and considering how long it takes and how often breaks are needed… it will be a serious undertaking. My Pidgeot companion did mention the idea of a basket or something similar to carry Pokémon, but lamented at the speed cost it would have on someone like them… it's funny to imagine…

Our last stop on this tour was the North, bitter, windy and just purely cold, it wasn't the best place to venture to. Some settlements were forming and a curious group of farmers were cropping up in some places… were they meant to be a "Guild" too? They operated like one, but I wasn't too eager to find out… gardening isn't of my interest… despite being a grass type. The only part of our cold adventure I truly remember to this day was seeing what happened to Mt. Freeze… it had begun to fuse with another dungeon near it, becoming a massive valley with the mountain at its center. I couldn't begin to understand what happened, but we were told the dungeons "changed" and this occurred recently. Of all our travels and the few dungeons we came across, none had changed per the Pokémon living there… we assumed a "delay" was occurring, but couldn't pinpoint it now… instead we chose to step back, a large group of Pokémon had begun to gather, some seemed very distraught, with what I could hear, they seemed to be in mourning, something they only now were able to achieve… someone they loved was lost, either here, or this was their homeland. I chose to at least pay respects before we departed ourselves, from a distance, but someone spotted us and kindly greeted us.

They were an Absol, I distinctly remember talking with them for quite a while… they were mourning the loss of another Absol, one who worked closely with the Hero of the Meteor Crisis-which truly surprised me. This dungeon-what was left of it-was once their home, and the cataclysm did… this… to it. At first I felt I didn't have the right to, but I saw this becoming common from that "Xerneas Guild" leader, so I suggested a monument of some kind, to honor their partner, their hero. I remember the Absol falling silent for a long time, just looking out to the mountain, so I did the same. During that time, we had talked about everything I could figure was worth talking about… even though it pained me, we spoke of Shaymin… I didn't have the heart to tell them what I saw exactly, but they understood and let it be… until my suggestion that is. "Shaymin was brave-even if it didn't seem like it." I didn't verbally agree with Absol's statement… but what they said next left me thinking more. "Form your Guild. Take that reckless bravery and use it to help others." They also agreed to suggest the idea of a monument to the others, and that they'd settle somewhere nearby, though I advised against it if the dungeons are changing again, but they claimed it'd be fine. I… agreed to consider it, and eventually, after a bit of idle chatter, we separated and I returned to the Central Islands with my companions… I had some thinking to do…

… I forgot how long it's been since I visited that dungeon, but I remember the last time we did go there, the monument was built… hah, it had that new-age Unown script written on it… I think it said… "Heroes" if my translation is right… Ah, I need to get Smeargle to help me get used to writing and reading that… After I find some time to visit that little town of theirs, it's been a while…

An Excerpt from The Founder's Book: Shaymin Guild

#Chapter 2 Part 2: The Shift #The Founder's Book: Shaymin Guild #Apparently this post does not like me using indents... so this one will just... look like this I guess;;;#long post #Like... REALLY long which is maybe-DEFINITELY-why this causes save errors...

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libidomechanica · 2 years ago

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But neither lingers on the steadfast rock of Immortal star

A rispetto sequence

With cypress, who might turn out with her frail. I rush’d the facts of love of knowledge spring-time, fresh and weed. Thou, Carian! Their glorious end: for all my woe? Their first the counsel to the universe into a coquette, who still will call. But neither lingers on the steadfast rock of Immortal star. Ay me! And yet the Father has arm’d himself in spleenful unicorn.

With thee will be careful to you, Cynara! Sun was not—but t is a very music, music of the day, ye wadna been said, Look! ’St and she is tall and greet the feet or handsome lies, the lady’s hand; I warrant the bump I ride in my own breast almighty’s bow.—She too readily, or our lord. Above thee once unkind befriends let its voice, when to woo her.

Of newest joys upon the basest weed outbraves his Sign, and then a nightingale shall be as was none to sleep. Heavy peacefulness; who will not there shot a golden splendour makes you to pause before the more pleasant hues of happy he whose rooty shades down some said with a joint over, link by link, my chain cable which speaks in an overcast of secret love.

And learned in close above: there’s a change wrought more fittest, as is like the surface, leaving faintly bruit, where Melodies round the best; dissimulation, though sometimes, as in his store; so thou sinn’d in their folly in forget the world, north, south, or any more by our lord. Singing thy Face from lovers blown about, circled a million poutings of light they would love!

Like the proudest state is for my sake, let me have no dædale heart! And we went out. But even as one would what I could plunge in one another proper glory has my object of felicity has been different mosses, too deep to clear his briar’d path to give me immortal Rome, as I Undying Life, have seen the lie. Which Aurora deem’d he had fled away!

Thus, in their voices wake us, and tuneless chords do from Dalliance unwise, lay not utter love, the crowd, a host, of gold, when fog conceal my love, I will enticement draw bewildered shipwreck with beautiful. Although a bonne vivante, ’ I must be singed, but the sky went grey, as if they told the dead and go talking how each field turn to speake, loue to Loue inspir’d?

To give account to none but an echo of a syllables in a poem, known by heart or in pure elysium. To find a half- forgetful of thanks to heed, i’d bubblings down some Corner of this precedent so often shown. ’St what we were;—too old forest tree, and though his friend thank gentle heart! Sometimes a sort; but speach, and were e’er sae sweet as Flora.

—At any laud therefore less discount, and I have not by inheritance. Of health by due; where I stood, melissa hitting down into grow old … I shall by having a good ship entangled mind? Through the year grows lush in juicy stalks, I’ll live in peace, for Love, as I feel nothing affects her heart, making merely weep—her gentle gait, making addition to the earth.

This stuff that market, when it grows thy pity me! My mistresses of the river side? To the lady of water, yet receive it; and if they who now are on the holy leer to court he should die; for such things, if men would fly, but follow Bacchus and his for other joys of calculate his means of feeding fire, by force accomplish’d, mid that then begins to croon.

, Was chosen from an urn, still fed by men. With any men; and what I ask, thy dangerous sky. Her scorn of atomies that which attract our great water; and never drearily on barren verboten? He felt aloof the splendour farther I shall venture to take. The Doctors! Over here, here, was not exactly as I’d talk of all that troubles and with thee.

It soothe my madness! In tender presently, she spake to hear the peasant valley; let the same shelf, the temples bind; angels, when clever: this man of strange, if not told of promised you, and on the mirror throwing the merciless Tyrant’s head shook with Thine; oh turn thy Falling; in his beauty’s a flow’r-reviving rain. By- and-by ye do lie, poor thinks we may charm less.

Time with using; thence that which is especial. Side; so that Endymion. When comments various magnanimous Despair! Their fountain held thee alone. Or at the talent and ways? With any Breath of May, as do that inward scoffing. Never hath her, because she love so suddenly arrests me for high heart no less. Tripped by the riches from thence my head, of twenty?

Such is sure when we are and here’s an eclat, thought, until the hall to me? Let its tip gum, pungent, clear, brimful, and care butterflies: amid his muzzle on the whole multitude it gives, and the muttering home increas’d; for still am learning unto the inoculation, and uncontroller of our aristocracy, so gently for the space again.

Vain old marchioness so unsullied, that harvest when the deep: the gout? By solemn hours, although you cannot take me ships of moulted feather. Tears she went, and the God curst sun, and longing for the soot that I meant to have command; all love each cheek of virgin Cynthia brighter days, of all my toil reward her pass my verses teach transaction, and the rosy dawn.

And what’s wrong: in fact, his maid I loved Mozart before the Living and girls who for herself, with all beauty will strew Dear brown-eyed little child pushed her horns they were na looking on darkness.— She took the kind eyes, as bottomless. The reason; t was drinking it a thing I dote on: so I’d fain, peona, ye should be away? Sweet woman finds no one near to the child.

For thee,—cresses. Paris white flock, by himself to this Cot, and laugh at the novels, after a sort of her left, a child in me do reed of loue in aire of wonder what to me had like a crescent-wise. They general, but at times long; I chirped, cheerful but not like Hindoos, for fools perverse delicate from lands were tearing upon one luxury, unless a man.

Go to the swollen and to thee; the nest, an arch of the chapel bells called us: promise, during light thus, thus thou didst adorn, with Stella loue. And following dames I sing, whenever I want to watch overthrow, not by thy infinite, haunt us till the burden to a coquetry, or absence, of remote a Fountain sealed: drink deep, until the freaks of man.

—Scott, the suffer with amber plain, and here kneeled at your land so kind: to scale with every sound, sweet prison, if good name and thus, just a little cup will pique a gentler days had run to warm the silvery serious eye a mild reproof darts, O beloved Woman! Thou, Carian lord, hadst better know it; my tongues shall please; and though the damsel’s tear alone presence.

And all, the fowl from that catches us by surprised at ease and smoothed by shadow roaming like the bed. Do I dare not whither ones I may give more hate, hate of my life, wilt thou mayest heaven’s gate, and help them? Come, let’s obay with my sonnet to you, myself were heaven’s glories dart; ’tis blue, and dropt my visions, dreams they should be much success, or none, that alp. There lives.

Command the visions, which after soft showers; nor grateful Evening sun on this same void white, doe interlace. So that source of husband, you think that Philo-genitiveness’ is now here I for should not be founded on the new trees, and love, to the mind is filled the Pile; and the Giant is a low, newspaper, humble Maid: then found a vent. I ne’er seem’d far away!

Than few; but there: for if Sins will go much more? While bird, the ore, of wot not wish: but, ere we can cast out, thus our content is famine, that I mean to show things for the centre set thee soon; these flowers they scour about the raw cold tile bathroom—all night, the moon, and have, or harsh prude indemnifies the treasured this he press’d his Spirit in a dreame: and a long adieu.

Rosy morn by morn; an’ she had view’d a skyey mask, a pinions darkening sun: beneath whose cooler side, or so she loue denied! Bitter, but one, and leaves behind my knees, from what so eminent a hand’ meant; but court shall know foredoom their treasure thin!—The lucid outline’s a lapsus of the inhabitant of some of the rest; and hoary, see it be thy summer.

And yet it is; and with thee to company, of the twilight, towards a bowery island girls who fondly lov’d us; nay more, which becks our ready, but hoped their wives. And Jill goes down this, they had, alas, their heart in days of steel us as the tea, among the shore of weary life.—Of Him whose birth, wealthiest of alabaster. One safeguard more; for well she past.

And wait upon the banknotes and drinks that search their coffin; but I may but prepared to name the wind falls from meeting hazel bowers of celebrity dined well; but woman could weep the eyes sent to snare. Because I’d rather hand in the dark—till break of day—feare not our lords with regular descended from their heads and doth wheel not by rude force, but worn and far.

Which bondage we will play, their dishonor. She wept and place, and often happens to you, myself for five, four, these darkest house where the third is in seeming trees by a river, clear stream of mosquitoes ascending line along a path between the dusk—the dust on the which some odd chance, at last to sway they all around it speak, and obedient wife. Myself to croon.

Thou shalt come and this, is come a cheering life, two plummets dropt the Graces, grouped in a blissful swoon. But the Star-Queen’s cry my soul with her first touch ethereal band are visible above thee! I meant but speach, and fairy quires are. But court me, and blessed, throat, she cried my brotherly cheek with edge-tools! Brilliant bow. The dreamers. Or laces, which he had something more.

Best. By a forest’s maze; the neck with Thee Annihilation—lost, or in Eternal Footman hold me through a favourite hamlet faint with our eyes, but yet your heart beat them out the garden of his sovereign monarchs are the dreary change of all. Some waltz; some devour’d till in masquerades, and all offender gave, and as thick and envied passionate lightly serv’d.

Reformation. As they were fields, and we are his; the shrink in again: if a flower and stole my heart mine, as when, approaching with her rising on their jewels for substance, and let me statesman’s decline; mournful freight. With fingers, asleep and brighter of smooth as sunburnt looks deceive our huntsman: Breather and a colours gayer than you by a simple maiden prime.

I think to ride, as fast other of the glebe, but if I burst his winters, and create mischief is increased, upon the West garden-ground, all is still and in his mate; as yet we find a way. Your flight, it is but to keep in, when Phoebus, for a Moment; for age and of Verse, to correction no bitter could see her gently for slight tame on Sunday after you’ve missed.

To doubt: but the Fruit grew upon my tuneful quill. Excepting married ones they fall; but when there’s music for the city. But whether it shoulder o’er this I have told thee to conquest and frayed with a sin and deem’d sooty, and if in pattering and dance from old Skiddaw’s top, whence than could tread breathes. Lo! Whoever have been reduced to the leaven, aquarius!

Wild surprise, how great ennui, when we touch we enter in, to share of passion, yea, hungry and back and dew, young man, ere made a cunning, catches from the street together. Be sweetest still to dwell with the smoke that record played, nor longer duke or earl; but, ere it not. A cowslip braes o’ Yarrow everywhere, blushing style which means everywhere, O Where hast thou shalt!

Has our whole together. Beyond Himself wildly and while if one, sleep, all that thought upon her height than the common vein of memory refreshment its sweet; the want it to happened once it as a foe would be at all. In pride of all be my Friendship which he leant, wretch, object strange history became one who travelling state comes once more, who, moving from self-destroyed.

Bring in the very bark bar’d and swam for Love is just the clay adhered to Dian:-truth I heard my name receive thee, sweeter thy voice— divinest! Stella, whose cool and sought; and thoughts are like a clew of golden morrow beam’d upward, through the way in which sadly she select, and water and wise, nor settlement filling thrush, schooling its back the Town. To lure—Endymion!

Impossible—how dearly; she is so content with his storm-trouble, well cultivate myself to things to Hallam’s Middle Ages, To give for you go? With dazzled lips her sombre cave, ere she was interknit so winged steeds, with a joint over, and humming ale encourage had to my heart and write—love’s chronicle, o Dianeme, now farewell: thy frown last extreme, and sight.

Endless the rapturous chariot last its beak over the street outsides. That much better yet to fret at myriads of earthly love has given falls thy shoulders puls’d tenfold, to feel he know: yet, hearing too audacious to mend the heart had got a touch entirely. Welcome, my Corinna, come, let it blessed wood whose thoughtfully I ring out of song can be here!

Overwhelming vintage hotly pierce something in safe alarm. An’ has nae care it is gold that all things prepared to skim the body is writ each might the saints the future state has been born to labour, I my jest: but, for a vent; arrived, as the rain falls cool and sat so waiting on the tears of Ceres grow: upon his gold, and the Gods the morning’s prime Desire!

A God fingers on the pen;—strange! Too tender matrimonial seal, will drop their Cakes and all her self-possession-—swung the corner for a woman without has twa sparkling roguish een. Blowing of trumpet’s mouth, I look at light to leave her. Where the best guards of dangling within his streight impart; nest of books. Will be they smiled—she had: his book’s begun, you’llfind it!

He saw her blaze much as to received, as if to lull down from Head to be glad: o feel that bird? Bless you with sighs, that, from walking, but then, you an’ I in ae bed, I’m o’er young, when on my wedding dresses gloom, light of diction. Which mere hopes begot by feare, of which our Faith and other proper glory. A third, speeding young unborn, whom she came to choose but selected.

To faint a sweet and fluttering retreats of restless look along the milky brow! As something of a river, clear, brimful, and I seek,— for yet the Princess; liker to the silvery oak apples, and quarrel tilts, yclept their noses through this my life, thy grief beside the marriage night was pass’d unworried by angry wolf, or pard with a tress of visions springs.

And they will see some devil was in a mantle rosy-warm with the trembler in the green nooks empty of all. Example to me;—of whom the Graces, was very bark ’gainst you without a toga or a single reader’s eyes. Not due to the very marge, whose northern blasts do roses; and to what in mediating betwixt sighes mixt; with a kernel in it.

Doth thy Beauty. Were as eyes and sky. And, with me, Sir, they vanish: wept they would weep their Muses do not thy Heart’s the room and once more, thou felt so constant to me one Morning-glory had blooms on thy sins forgive and me. Past man’s earliest bubbles into the air it breath was she, Blythe by the river side by side rejoicing like a fool of verse—O treachery!

Close by, began to whimper; ambitious am I, when love than could not end me, left me maim’d to dwell among the statutes, such a point only Laili, ’ yet a Book of their roll, but whether it should I go on, that deep den of a shepherds pipe retire—to lose. By Phœbus was his world, out-facing Lucifer, and back against the setting of leaving seemed a bore.

Thy mossy hill, the fair ordain, he said, my children’, as thou growest beautiful as fair bosom of the sallows of the vault Or, on a moonless nights and floors, at first season where it may not run. Remain, and we as rich which might empties there was sitting down Bristol Street, Yet hold my coat, and love it and keeps us from my Hand, nor wound and a grin of bitter.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #157 texts #rispetto sequence

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