#unveiling infinity

[the-guild-codex-and-other-things]

Zak: These aren't the undead, Saber. They're living, breathing morons and we have to save them.

Saber: I'd rather stake them all and let God sort it out.

Kit: And I'd rather not go to jail for the rest of my life.

[quinnred]

The Swords Grow Wild: Even the Dead Dream of Home

A piece done as the intro artwork of "The Swords Grow Wild" section of the art zine "Visions Unveiled" published by BobTheSeagullKing in collaboration with Logan/Tachyon , CrabdominalPain , and Luke Baker.

"A giant corpse twinkles within a cloud of oxygen, its metallic bones glinting like a quiet star within this blue gaseous death blanket. Although it is a tiny light among an infinity of tiny lights, a machine eye spots it.

The probe investigates on behalf of a million curious minds, coordinating its paleobiological autopsy of the leviathan from light-years away. 

The “bones" are of a nano-constructed steel structure, stained by long dried oils and muscle pressures. Much of the remaining tissue had decayed into pale iron rich sinews along the three spines running along the body. 

What most intrigued the probe and its coordinators was the golden husk of the body’s brain and nervous system. Not only was it bizarre to see such a precious metal used in a biological structure, but that it held activity. The brain itself was not alive, but it still preserved echoes of the alien’s thoughts and memories. Such a preservation of information seemed unlikely to be a natural product, at least to the minds behind the probe, hypothesizing that this was an artificial organism, maybe even an alien equivalent to the probe. 

By studying and mimicking the neurological mechanics of the husk, the probe could connect to the neural network and perceive abstracts of information.

Images of birth, or more aptly construction, as its newly crafted eyes connected to its brain, allowing it to witness each massive organ be placed within its metal carapace. A skip in time, the creature rushing with other armoured missile brethren across a battlefield, surging forth in a wild aerial spin deploying numerous biomechanical bombs as if shedding metallic feathers. Other living war machines fight with and against the creature as chaos consumes an alien city of urbanized stone, steel and bone. 

Clearer memories flood in, the creature ascending towards the sky, its form searing with atmospheric heat as it escapes pursuing explosives. A goal screeches within its instincts, to kill whatever lays above these clouds. It plows through the last layer of atmosphere and- 

It lies in a void, circling around the sphere it came from, body torn apart but flickering with life. Its target, a biomechanical ring hovers above the green and blue world with only scars to bare. 

Time passes by millennia between neural blinks, as the creature drifts away, the world gradually blooms red and orange with overgrown infrastructure. The Target grows many rings until it engulfs the rusted planet like a rib-cage shielding a heart. The image drifts further and dimmer until all that can be seen is a twinkle and then darkness as the sensory organs decay. 

Even in death, it still dreamed of home."

[crimsonkat59]

The Infinights

The pixelated RPG game Infinights, developed by Tales From the Stinky Dragon, garnered many positive reviews from fans of the developer’s past works and soon brought in new fans, many of whom had never played a game of such style. 

Infinights is a story-driven game where you play as four ‘Infinight Interns’ trying to find the Infinights (a group of notorious heroes), defeat a devious woman called Paralyte, and save the realm of Faeza. There are many loveable NPCs scattered throughout the five realms of Faeza, each unique to their homeland. And the music changes throughout the land, even during encounters! 

What many have found interesting about the game is that the player does not control a specific character. The four Interns move as a group and the walking order of the players changes according to their environment (for example, Mudd leads the group through his home city of the BuhBayou while Kyborg will lead when they’re in Evirwinter). In combat, each Intern and their enemies are given a specific order to which they can take a turn. This is one of the many cases where Infinights uses luck and randomization to achieve unique playthroughs. Often, conversations will have dialogue options that will either succeed or fail based on the program’s virtual ‘coin flip’ and the amount of damage any attack will do it based on a ‘dice roll’ of sorts. 

Infinights has been praised for its simple but beautiful graphics and its simple design. However, it has gained criticism as well. 

One main flaw many players see is how rigid the story is. There are not many chances for exploration and though conversations can change due to luck, things end up the same in the end. After some time, the developers released an update containing a second playing mode. This mode, entitled ‘The Past’ (changing the main story mode to ‘The Present’), lets the player play in a more open-world concept. And as the original Infinights. 

What’s loved about The Past is that it allows the player to see more into the life of the characters the game is entitled after. There were complaints that, for being titular characters and the game’s main quest, the Infinights did not have a strong role in the story, especially Grislee and Elleve. The Past changes this, giving each Infinight more lines and a more fleshed out character. 

Of course, the open-world style is appreciated as well. There’s a fully interactable map to navigate through and many new locations within each city to explore. New shops, new NPCs, new quests. And while The Past has a few scripted adventures and quests, the easiest way to explore the world is to travel to one city and simply walk around. More quests become available as the Infinights become more renowned throughout Faeza, with more people also willing to aid their adventures. 

The Past also created thought. As the main villain of the main story, Paralyte, is seen in this mode as just another Infinight. She is primarily called ‘Luce’, which is her real name, and is visually different. Many have joked that she looks ‘healthier’ in The Past as her skin is less pale. What many notice is that there’s no green infinity sign carved into her armor in The Past, but she instead wears an armband with the Infinight’s logo on it. (Just like Spectril!) 

Throughout the story, Luce and the others get along very well. Her voice is still ‘honeyed yet haunting’, but her interactions with the Infinights are full of smiles and jokes. Luce cracks a few herself, leaving the threats to the enemies encountered in combat. 

This mode, even when played to 100%, does not address exactly why Luce left the Infinights. Theories have been made through dialogue left throughout both modes of the game, but there has been no official response from the developers. Tales From the Stinky Dragon often prides itself on adding a bit of mystery to their games, with some questions getting answered while others are left up to the fans. 

The newest mystery they’ve unveiled is Grotethe, another RPG game in the works. Through released screenshots, it’s clear that the game uses the same base as Infinights. The combat and dialogue systems are the same, along with the game’s basic premise. However, one question that has been raised is how the story modes work. Will Grotethe have only a story-driven mode, only open-world, or will it include both? None of the released content points to any of these options. 

On a similar note, it is also clear that Grotethe takes is set in an entirely different place. The technology and locations (and even the appearance of one of the main characters!) that can be seen in different screenshots are causing speculation amongst fans. People wonder whether the two games are related or not and, if they are, how? No voice clips for any of the characters have been released yet, but fans hope that the voices of the main characters will aid them in this quest for answers. 

Until then, everyone continues to enjoy the stunning game that is Infinights. 

This project, with all visual details compiled on one Adobe Illustrator document entitled 'rot' because I failed to spell 'rpg' started on Tuesday, January 14th. Through various sessions of various lengths and occasional mouse usage, it has finally been completed. I now hate rectangles and squares. 

Various parts of the artwork should be recognizable to other games of a similar style. When I went looking for sprite bases when this project first started, I landed on a base sprite for Omori. I have never played Omori. Along with that, the way the combat screen looks is taken from Deltarune (which I have played) and the shop screen has influences from it. 

And it should be known that most things made in this work I had a trace (with pixels) from a random internet image. That dragon was NOT freehand, nor was that train, the map and pretty much everything from the shop screen (though, the shopkeeper whose name I cannot remember was drawn from a sketch I made). All text except title text (Infinights, Grotethe, Tales From the Stinky Dragon) is actual type, only the title text I drew (with a reference).

My school shouldn’t have allowed me to have an Adobe account or a teacher/class to teach me graphic design. I am using it for evil.

Sprite sheet:

The state my school computer's desktop was left in. Just because I think it's funny.

[xen2geeked]

Top 5 Gojo Satoru fanfics on Ao3.

(According to me, in no particular order.)

1. Instrinsic Warmth by @thatdesklamp

Summary:

“So stay with me. Forever.”You make a weak stab at a joke.

“For Infinity, you mean?”

“Yeah.” Satoru turns to look at you and your heart jumps at the clear expression on his face. There’s not a hint of humour: for once, he’s fully and completely serious.

“For the rest of my life, and for all the lives after.”

-

You meet Satoru on 7th September, 1996.

Some time later, you realise you love him.

2. Infidelity by @tawus

Summary:

Your marriage to Gojo Satoru lost its initial excitement, since your husband spent all his time either at Jujutsu Tech or on exorcism missions across the world. To ease your loneliness, you picked up your favorite pastime from your student years — clubbing — behind his back. Too bad that on Satoru’s most recent mission he spots his wife dancing in a nightclub with a bunch of guys in the skimpiest dress he has ever seen on her…

3. Play with the star series by @anaoyuo

Part 1: A dangerous game

Part 2: Fate's gamble

Summary:

Both men agreed to a game about who fucks you first, but they didn't play their cards right.

Gojo and Geto changed the course of the game when they decided to keep you around for way longer than intended, making you fall for their sweet way to deprave you, and now you have to face the consequences in a gamble that they call their life.

4. Invisible string by girlbossinred

Summary:

“She said that you were funny, intelligent, witty, beautiful—”

“And then you met me, and realized that it was all a lie?” You finish for him, rolling your eyes in the darkness.

“No.” Satoru gives a small shake of his head as his body shifts, the motel bed creaking under his weight.

“No, she wasn’t wrong. You were all of those things.”

In an unexpected twist of fate, you and Satoru are shackled on a cross-country trip to your best friends' wedding. Forced into close proximity, witty banter turns into reluctant camaraderie. Late-night conversations chip away at your defenses, unveiling shared vulnerabilities. Beneath the surface, a mutual understanding begins to take root.

🐳____🐳____🐳___🐳____🐳____🐳____🐳_

[sakkiichi]

AUGUST.

Glimpses of the departed month go by as you reminisce by the sea.

ft. Kaedehara Kazuha x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, romance.

I honestly don’t know how to feel about this piece… definitely not my best work, but I wrote it, so I’m posting it. I hope someone still likes it.

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

Blue.

Said alone, the word might have had a tendency for melancholy, cold, turbulence.

However, if anyone were to ask you right now, you’d deny every negative connotation the color might have ever been related to.

Because to you, blue was dusks by the sea; moments right after the last coppery rays had hidden behind the expanse of an ocean you could only wish to unveil all secrets of.

And perhaps, you liked this moment of day because the infinity of blue before you mirrored the feelings in your heart at ease.

Feelings of unbridled affection, boundless love.

For him.

Fair hair falls over his shoulders, like silk weaved out of stars, its tips illusory rose with the fading daylight. His eyes are closed against the marine breeze, flecks of moondust clinging to his lids, casting enchanting shadows over his cheeks. His shirt has been discarded, droplets sliding down his bare torso, as if he had bathed in a pool of starlight. A black leather cord rests against his tempting collarbones, a vibrant scarlet maple leaf charm dangling tantalizingly over his chest.

A dreamy sigh escapes your lips, mingling with the sounds of foamy waves lapping at the white sand.

Kazuha.

He was always nothing short of ethereal, but something about him in the dimming light of a late summer’s nightfall, felt inherently magical.

“I’m going to miss this, Kazuha.” You finally say, resting your chin on your boyfriend’s shoulder.

He gently leaves a kiss to your forehead, his hand finding yours over the towel you’re sitting on. Scars jut like jagged rocks against which waves break, in the same way lightning snuffed out a life dear to him all that time ago.

And yet, the smile on his lips is almost palpable when he says:

“We’ll be able to come back, my dove.” His thumb runs soothing circles over the back of your hand. “Before we realize, summer will greet us again.”

You chuckle. Kazuha had such a poetic way of approaching things; even when the sun went pitch black, he would forever remain a beacon of hope to you.

“I know, I know…” You clarify. “It’s just… I wish I had more free time to spend with you like this during the year…”

As much as autumn brought found memories and your beloved’s birthday, September always had a tendency to leave you yearning for the long days of summer.

Echoes of August replayed behind your eyelids every time you closed them, reminiscent of stolen instances held in the brief minutes in which the sky was dyed in shades of neither day or night.

Those eyes that held the suns of a million dawns focus on you. Starlight from constellations that will sleep soon seem to frame them, those long lashes fluttering in tune with your heart.

“I know, my angel…” Your lover utters, as he delicately tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’d like to stay with you like this, for all eternity…” His stare of gentle embers takes you in.

His muse, his perfect love, his forever.

The samurai’s free hand reaches to cup your cheek, his touch, a dove’s first flight in its tenderness.

Beneath the darkening skies, you were the brightest star. Every lash, every pore and freckle, the everglow that fueled his verses.

“But we’ll always have the weekends,” He reassures, those fingers that penned the most romantic eulogies tracing your jawline, the column of your neck, your exposed collarbones.

Dilated pupils stare at his lips, images of kisses coated in ice cream and cocktails flashing through your dazed mind.

“And every summer after that.” The poet adds, noses mere millimeters away now, separated only by salt air and dying sunlight’s rust.

“Every summer.” You repeat.

Then, the magnetic force of both your desire-ridden lips reigns over, his kiss, an intoxicating collision.

Your hands lock behind Kazuha’s neck, pulling him closer. The droplets of sea water on him feel cool, flecks of stardust tattooing your skin in every place your bodies touch.

The wandering samurai’s lips are an expanding sunrise, and you, the tsunami that desperately reaches for his light-tinted heavens.

One of his hands sets on the soft sand, keeping him upright, while his scarred one tenderly cups your cheek. Your lean against him is soothing, healing, clear August skies, birdsong written in between retreating clouds.

Behind the undulating horizon, gold dyes silver.

Constellations begin to waltz far above, the lovers by the sea, their directing lyrics.

It’s a symphony about a season that will never die, its score inscribed in indelible blue ink in the heat of yours and Kazuha’s fervent kisses.

[d0rianw1lde]

keys x eric was wonderful! thank you to whoever sent the request is it okay if i as for more? anything with these two would be amazing <3

Absolutely! I’m glad you liked! :O Here’s a bit more Eric and Keys..

—-

“I got you tea.”

“I’m sorry?”

Eric’s eyes finally flit up from the documents he’s looking over, meeting the eyes of the man in front of him.

It’d only been a few months since Walter Mckey had strolled into his office in search of a lawyer. Eric still remembers the way he’d fidgeted with his glasses as he dropped a pile of documents onto his dark mahogany desk and telling him he needed his help.

And now he’s in Eric’s apartment. Holding Eric’s novelty I ❤️ NEW YORK mug with a small smile on his face. Eric can’t help but chuckle.

“Making yourself at home, aren’t you?”

“I might be. I’ve been here- what? Every day for the past…” Keys looks to the side, doing the math in his head before Eric answers.

“Three months.”

“Three months,” Keys replies. “Three months of trying to get that asshole to give me what I’m owed for my coding,” He places the mug by Eric, who offers Keys a tilted grin. Keys groans, sitting down beside Eric and looking at the piles of papers splayed out against Eric’s table. Eric leans back in his chair, chewing his lip as he mulls over the mountains of information he’d read again, and again, unable to find a way out.

“They’ve got a safeguard for everything,” Eric begins, picking up a document. “If I find one hole, rest assured they’ve got another document- another stipulation, another term, another loophole…”

“So I just- what?” Keys asks, picking up another document. “Signed everything away without knowing? I’ll just never get that work back..?”

There’s a moment of silence between the both of them- an awkward, long pause that seems to stretch out for infinity and manifests into tension so thick either one of them could have cut through it. They’d shared moments like this before- moments of shared frustration as they combed through each file after file, document after document, contract after contract, only to find that the work Keys had put into the project would stay locked away.

Eric’s eyes left the mountain of documents to look over Keys, who’d lost that snarky spark Eric had grown to enjoy, and was instead laser-focused on a random document he’d pulled from the pile. “There has to be something..” Keys mumbles to himself. Eric’s eyes drift to the small junk drawer just a few feet away, and he slips out from his chair to open it up.

Keys almost doesn’t notice the sound of Eric digging through the drawer- in fact, he doesn’t notice anything until-

“Pick a card.”

Keys looks up from the document, eyes sliding down to see Eric holding out a deck of cards. He cocks an eyebrow.

“..You learn this in law school?”

“Something like that.” Eric muses, nodding down toward the deck of cards. Keys hesitates, but Eric’s eyes are enough to convince him. He takes the card, peeking down at it and grinning as he holds it against his chest.

“So what is this?”

“Well..when I was a kid, I used to love learning card tricks- put it back in the deck.,” He watches as keys slips it, face down, back into the deck. Eric does a little flourish, which is enough to elicit a chuckle. “And when I was in law school, I started to think of cases like…card tricks. Because on the outside, it’s sleek. It’s quick, and simple when you just look at it..” Eric places the cards over the tea, letting the steam hit the cards for a moment before holding them out in front of Keys. “It’s almost seamless…” Eric leans in close to Keys- mere inches from his face. He fans the cards out, and Key’s card has somehow flipped- now face-up in the deck in front of him. Keys chuckles softly, rolling his eyes playfully at Eric’s sudden dramatics.

“But there’s always something to be unveiled…and with a sharp eye, and the right timing..”Eric does the trick again, unveiling the sneaky slight-of-hand trick he’d used to complete it. Keys cocks an eyebrow, and looks up from Eric’s nimble fingers to meet his eye. “..you’ll find there’s something that solves it all..”

Keys smiles, eyes casting downward. Eric smiles, and slips the cards back into order, clearing his throat nervously. Their eyes meet once again, and before Eric has processed, Keys has already leaned in, lips pressing softly against Erics. Eric’s eyes fly wide open for a moment, before finally settling shut, dropping the cards onto the floor to gently cup Keys’ face. It’s a few moments of bliss, ended when Keys pulls away. And they stare at each other for a moment- dumbfounded. Entranced. Relieved?

Eric blinks a few times, eyes flitting to the floor at the mess of cards around the table. He chuckles softly, bending down to play his own game of 52 pickup as Keys turns back to the documents before him. But there’s a few extra moments of silence Keys hadn’t been expecting, breaking the quiet concentration he’d acquired.

“Eric..? You uh- you good down there?”

Eric slips out from beneath the table, a full deck of cards in one hand, an a folded document in the other. Keys pushes up his glasses, still squinting slightly at the new paper in Eric’s hands.

“…Did you..find something?”

Eric grins, and lets himself indulge in a little bow. “Abracadabra.”

——-

You want a lil ficlet? More info here! https://www.tumblr.com/d0rianw1lde/771960413265051648/hey-you-yeah-you-do-you-want-a-ficlet-of-any

[insane-brit]

Royalty (prologue)

Muzan Kibutsuji x Soulmate!fem!reader

Part Links: Prologue, Chapter one, Chapter two, Chapter three

Tags/warnings: Enemies to lovers, semi slow burn, dark story/themes, anger, blood, bond seen as sacred (religious terms used), borderline hatred, mentions of Muzan’s wrong deeds. 

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word count: 672

The thread of fate marked many people’s lives since the beginning of time. It had many names, strand of providence, mortal bind, but no matter the denomination, it would attach itself to every living creature to grace this Earth. Binding their soul to another’s. Searing each other’s quintessence in an unbreakable link. To what daemon created such an inane occurrence, Muzan Kibutsuji did not know. It was engrossing to imagine. A demon, a behemoth to this land having such a foolish rope running from his veins and out into the depths of creation. However, he didn’t have one. Long before becoming this, before becoming perfection he had one. That gossamer thread felt like silk running between his fingers, and then it snapped.

Hundreds of years passed by in the blink of an eye and it never manifested itself again. Naturally, a mortal soul could only prolong itself for so long before its demise. Whoever had been tied to him all those years ago would be nothing but dust in the Earth’s crust. It didn’t matter to him anymore. An insignificant creature tied to him would only serve to be a thorn in his side. A weight he could not take on with the circumstances at hand.

A fascinating reality revealed itself as more and more of these creatures were fabricated by his hand. The progenitor studied their mannerisms, capability, and artistries, and through his own deduction and coercion, gained the knowledge that these organisms soul ties were cut. Upon their transformation, any link they had flowing from their wrist was severed. Just like his was on that day. A remembrance of their humanity, along with their memories exhausted with a puncture and drop of his ichor.

To deprive beings that once thirsted for the connection of another was a whole other power in itself. While he already felt and displayed the hierarchy to all, with him on top, this realization only fueled the fire that smoldered in his core. It gave way to new leverage and means of suffering, and he relished in every second of it.

Which is why he didn’t give much thought to the slight tug accompanied by a tingling sensation that spread under his sleeve. A mere remnant of what used to be. The last bits of what remained of his soul attempting to grasp at the traces of what tied him to his late mortal body. At least, that was his notion until it burned. An odd sensation circulated in his veins, and it felt as if they were swelling. However, when he gripped the cuff and wrenched it towards his elbow, he saw nothing.

The clinks and gurgles of liquid in flasks and tubes resounded throughout the infinity castle as he stared impassively at the sickly skin. Whatever vixen dared to tease the withered bond had better scurry along. The caresses of the wicked were not welcome, and yet a pale red permeated under his wrist. A surge of ecstasy engulfed his mind and body. The consecrated thread unveiled itself from a haze and danced around between his digits. It’s end dwindling as he watched it extend farther away from his position. Its form enveloped in blood.

His frustration reached its peak at this development. Blinding rage boiled his revered blood and escaped through hot breaths. How dare fate have the temerity to send forth this declaration. Was this retribution for his deeds? His arm swept across the table, slamming into the fine glasses, splintering them into millions of pieces. How revolting to be tied to something worthless. The string throbbed under his skin as he seethed. The essence of his supposed other half coated his like candied honey.

The rising temptation to ruin the tie with his sacrilegious acts was weighing heavy on his mind. Yet, he would face eternal torment for attempting to ravage what most would consider a blessed gift.

“Insidious…mutinous thing.”

He ran the tip of his finger along the thread. Letting it slice open the tip to drink in his blood.

[mashleverse]

"Mashle: Magic and Muscles -THE STAGE- 2.5" New Key Visual

The final key visual that revealed all the main cast members has been unveiled! The rest of the cast has also been announced.

Margarette Macaron: spi (ZIPANG OPERA)

Domina Blowelive: Shogo Tamura

Innocent Zero: Haruki Kiyama

Wahlberg Baigan: Koujirou Oka (returning from the prequel)

Cell War: YUKI

Regro Burnedead: Uchikuri Uchikura (returning from the prequel)

Brad Coleman: Sawada Takurou (returning from the prequel)

Mash's muscles:

Kevin: INFINITY TWIGGZ (FULLCAST RAISERZ) (returning from the prequel

Mike: E-FLOW (FULLCAST RAISERZ)

Tom: Aegis (FULLCAST RAISERZ A.R.M.Y)

Kim: MADD TWIGGZ (FULLCAST RAISERZ A.R.M.Y)

Yamada: YOUTA (FULLCAST RAISERZ A.R.M.Y) (returning from the prequel)

In addition, there will be a special backstage talk event after each performance (except for August 2's performance) titled "Regro's House"!

Ticket sales will begin at the end of May, check out the source link for more information! Don't miss the unique experience of Mashle series in musical stage performances!

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🌈 Queer Books Coming Out in March 2024 🌈

🌈 Good afternoon, my bookish bats! Struggling to keep up with all the amazing queer books coming out this month? Here are a FEW of the stunning, diverse queer books you can add to your TBR before the year is over. Remember to #readqueerallyear! Happy reading!

[ Release dates may have changed. ]

❤️ Shift: A Memoir of Identity and Other Illusions - Penny Guisinger 🧡 Tempting Olivia - Clare Ashton 💛 Monilinia - Free Mints 💚 Guillaume - Aurora Dimitre 💙 The Marble Queen - Anna Kopp & Gabrielle Kari 💜 The Baker & the Bard - Fern Haught ❤️ Rainbow! - Sunny & Gloom 🧡 The Safe Zone - Amy Marsden 💛 The Weavers of Alamaxa - Hadeer Elsbai 💙 The No-Girlfriend Rule - Christen Randall 💜 A Different Kind of Brave by Lee Wind 🌈 Cirque du Slay - Rob Osler ❤️ Wizard’s Debt - Niranjan 🧡 One Last Breath - Ginny Myers Sain 💛 Nothing Special - Katie Cook 💚 I Feel Awful, Thanks - Lara Pickle 💙 The Tower - Flora Carr 💜 Be the Sea - Clara Ward ❤️ What Grows in the Dark - Jaq Evans 🧡 Heirs of Bone and Sea - Kay Adams 💛 The Haunting of Velkwood - Gwendolyn Kiste 💙 Thunder Song - Sasha taqwšəblu LaPointe 💜 Mona of the Manor - Armistead Maupin 🌈 Like Happiness - Ursula Villarreal-Moura

❤️ Ellipses - Vanessa Lawrence 🧡 Saint, Sorrow, Sinner - Freydís Moon 💛 Blood & Brujas - Mikayla D. Hornedo 💚 Infinity Kings - Adam Silvera 💙 Really Cute People - Markus Harwood-Jones 💜 How You Were Born - Kate Cayley ❤️ These Bodies Between Us - Sarah Van Name 🧡 Icarus - K. Ancrum 💛 The Emperor and the Endless Palace - Justinian Huang 💙 How Not to Date an Angel - Lana Kole 💜 Enemy Colours - R.M. Olson 🌈 Broken Parts Included - Alyson Root

❤️ Who's Afraid of Gender? - Judith Butler 🧡 The Duke’s Cowboy - Andrew Grey 💛 The Secret Something - Emily Wright 💚 Colstead & Andie - Olivia Janae 💙 Play It Again, Ma’am - Sienna Waters 💜 Love Is…? - K.J. Wrights ❤️ Welcome to Forever - Nathan Tavares 🧡 Just Another Epic Love Poem - Parisa Akhbari 💛 The Phoenix Bride - Natasha Siegel 💙 These Letters End in Tears - Musih Tedji Xaviere 💜 Truly Home - J.J. Hale 🌈 Monster Mixer - Robin Jo Margaret

❤️ The House of Hidden Meanings - RuPaul 🧡 Promised to the Queen - Barbara Winkes 💛 A Conclave of Crimson - Nicole Eigener & Beverley Lee 💚 A Hunt of Blood and Iron - Cara Nox 💙 The Fealty of Monsters - Ladz 💜 Ariel Crashes a Train - Olivia A. Cole ❤️ Those Beyond the Wall - Micaiah Johnson 🧡 Dancing Toward Stardust - Julia Underwood 💛 Heir to Dreams & Darkness - Ben Alderson 💙 Comet Cruise - Niska Morrow 💜 Dead Girls Walking - Sami Ellis 🌈 Blackout - Carlos E. Rivera

❤️ Monster Crush - Erin Ellie Franey 🧡 Blessed Water - Margot Douaihy 💛 These Fragile Graces, This Fugitive Heart - Izzy Wasserstein 💚 Kiss of Seduction - Rawnie Sabor 💙 Sunbringer - Hannah Kaner 💜 Evacuation to Love - C.A. Popovich ❤️ Sin - Brooke Matthews 🧡 Falls from Grace - Ruby Landers 💛 Lean in to Love - Catherine Lane 💙 A Small Apocalypse - Laura Chow Reeve 💜 Cascade Failure - L.M. Sagas 🌈 The Mars House - Natasha Pulley

❤️ All This Time - Sage Donnell 🧡 The Romance Lovers Book Club - MA Binfield 💛 View from the Top - Morgan Adams 💚 Number Call - Nagisa Furuya 💙 Crossing Bridges - Chelsey Lynford 💜 The Boyfriend Subscription - Steven Salvatore ❤️ Love the World or Get Killed Trying - Alvina Chamberland 🧡 Synthetic Sea - Franklyn S. Newton 💛 The Prince & His Stolen Groom - J.E. Ridge 💙 Chrysalis and Requiem - Quinton Li 💜 Where Sleeping Girls Lie - Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé 🌈 A Botanical Daughter - Noah Medlock

❤️ Wednesday Nights - by Donna Jay 🧡 The Woods All Black - Lee Mandelo 💛 Song of the Huntress - Lucy Holland 💚 Rainbow Black - Maggie Thrash 💙 Spirits & Sunflowers - A.D. Armistead & Austin Daniel 💜 Floating Hotel - Grace Curtis ❤️ Far From Camelot - Rylee Hale 🧡 This Way to Change - Jezz Chung 💛 Mexican Bird - Luis Lopez-Maldonado 💙 Android Affection: Unveiling - Beau Van Dalen 💜 Welcome to the Damned - Astraea Long 🌈 She Came for Blood - Darva Green

❤️ Cover Story - Rachel Lacey 🧡 The Poisons We Drink - Bethany Baptiste 💛 The Perfect Guy Doesn't Exist - Sophie Gonzales 💚 In Walked Trouble - Dana Hawkins 💙 Never Leave, Never Lie - Thea Verdone 💜 Guardian: Zhen Hun - Priest ❤️ All the World Beside - Garrard Conley 🧡 Rainbows, Unicorns, and Triangles - Jessica Kingsley Publishers 💛 The Feast Makers - H.A. Clarke 💙 Synthetic Sea - Franklyn S. Newton 💜 All the Painted Stars - Emma Denny 🌈 A Hard Sell - Jennifer Moffatt

[kyndredravenstories]

Eyes of Infinity: Delirium Chapter 12

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/149739049

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, Dark!Xavier, Intense!Rafayel, Foreseer!Zayne, typical game violence, battle and combat, PTSD

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.

Previous Chapters: Ch 1 / Ch 2 / Ch 3 / Ch 4 / Ch 5 / Ch 6 / Ch 7 / Ch 8 / Ch 9 / Ch 10 / Ch 11

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Though he holds the woman he loves in his embrace, Sylus is far from relaxed.

He keeps her close, sharing his strength with her, staying still as she leans on him and closes her eyes. He gives her the shelter and support she needs in the moment, but as he does so he takes his phone out of his pocket and makes a few calls.

Directions to Luke and Kieran, first and foremost. His bloodhounds must stay on the trail while it's fresh. Sniff out the rat and bring him to N109 alive. At this point, a quick death is not a mercy Sylus is willing to grant. In conversation, he restrains his anger as much as he can. It's tricky to speak softly and avoid saying exactly what he means. He takes care, highly aware that Ellara is likely listening to every word.

The second call is for his car. As it pulls up at a nearby curb, Ellara tugs shyly on his hand. An argument is coming. He recognizes the adorable pout to her lips, finding himself staring at her supple mouth much longer than he intends.

"Could we walk home?" she pleads.

"It's cold," he frowns.

"Don't you like the cold?" she pokes his chest.

"I'm not the problem. You'll catch a chill."

"I won't. Please?"

Sylus gives a weary sigh. He's really not in the mood to walk all the way to her apartment, but when she wraps her arms around his waist and looks up at him with her big doe eyes, he finds himself caving rather readily to her silly whim. Seeing her through Mephisto's eyes and stolen photographs is vastly different from having her close where he can smell her, feel her presence, and sense her warmth. When such things tease at his senses, he can hardly control himself around her. Affection and tenderness fills him. Relaxing his shoulders in defeat, he tousles her messy dark hair.

"Fine. You're spoiled rotten, that's for sure."

"Walking helps me think," she defends. There must be a lot on her mind now after all that's happened and all that's been unveiled this night. She doesn't like him teasing her, but her playful anger is better than weeping or mourning a dead man. She still seems dazed after the explosion, and he doesn't press her for any updates or answers. Even if this calm is temporary, he isn't willing to break it. Besides, there are worse ways to spend time than to walk with her holding his arm and sharing an umbrella.

Sylus leaves her to grab a spare winter jacket from the vehicle, dismissing his driver with a wave of his hand. Draping the black and grey garment around her shoulders, he smiles as he notes how large it is on her petite frame. She puts her arms into the sleeves, but they're much too long. The broad shoulders sag on her, too. Despite all this, she is breathtakingly beautiful in the unfamiliar moonlight. The silver glow accentuates her onyx hair and makes her skin gleam. For a moment, he ponders his fascination with her.

This small, unknowable, strange creature of his.

His to touch.

His to love.

His to protect.

It's a curse in any other name. Yet, it is one he bears gladly.

As they cruise at a lazy pace across streets and roads moist from the snow and rain, he finds himself enjoying the quiet moments with her. She tells him about her training and how hard its been to live without her Evol. She's so relieved when he tells her that what she drank earlier was an antidote. She's looking forward to the moment when her power comes back so she can seize her life again. Run missions. Use her favorite weapons. Feel like a productive member of society.

Sylus listens to her ramble, stroking the back of her hand with the pad of his thumb. Her excitement is soothing, yet bittersweet. If only she knew that the current state of her power is so far diminished from what it could be. Would she be saddened? Angry? He doesn't have the heart to tell her that she'd been used as a sacrifice -- again and again -- and that there are still those out there who would continue to do so. Fate hasn't been a kind mistress, not to either of them.

She's safe now in this time and in this iteration. Safe with him. But, he's not ready to make that claim out loud. Not yet.

There are tasks still left undone.

Despite the pleasure of her company, his temper remains unsettled.

Noxis isn't dead. That much is certain.

This night, Sylus came to the Destiny Café to claim a life, but he'd been thwarted. He's not sure what makes him angrier: the fact that Malakai escaped or the fact that he believed an explosion of such low caliber could harm the leader of Onychinus. Either way, he was being underestimated, and that simply wouldn't do. If word got out that this was the second time Sylus had failed to break this upstart's neck, his reputation would be jeopardized. In the short term, that meant more challengers and nuisances to fight. But, in the long term, it meant more danger to Ellara and more interference in their lives together. 

These last few weeks had been a game of attrition, a strategy to lure out Malakai into the open so that Sylus could kill him and end this circus with Noxis once and for all. Malakai had his eyes on Ellara, and Sylus used that to his advantage. He'd backed away from his contact with her, retreating into the shadows and banking on Malakai's impatience. Sure enough, when Noxis grew tired of waiting for Sylus to make a move, he positioned Ellara in harm's way in the hopes of forcing his hand.

What a pathetic fool.

She'd never really been in any danger. Kieran and Luke had been her silent and invisible guardians all of these weeks, filling in the blanks where Mephisto's communications left information out of regular reports. When she told the crow she was going to meet Noxis in person, Sylus was already prepared to intercept them. The goals for the rendezvous had been simple enough. Kill Noxis and take the antidote to LUMINIS off his corpse. So, how had so many lines become blurred in such a short amount of time?

Ellara was a wild card, that's how.

Sylus was prepared for Noxis to reveal his identity as her adopted brother, but he hadn't expected for her to defend him. Nor had he expected for the encounter to affect her so strongly. The revelation of her brother's betrayal must have been too much for her mind to process.

Initially, he isn't certain, but as the evening unwinds, Sylus begins to understand what's happened with more clarity. Based on her behavior on the walk home and all the questions she asks, she'd suppressed the events of this night, shutting the truth behind a series of mental barriers. Unexpected, but no matter. If that's what she needs to do to cope for now, then he would play along. In fact, it might be easier if she still believes her brother to be dead. He soon truly would be, after all.

One thing was absolutely certain. 

There will not be a third failure.

"Well, we're here," Ellara says, breaking Sylus's train of thought. He glances at the six story building next to them. A shabby thing. Old and derelict with peeling paint and water stains. Despite its owners' attempt to market it as a luxury apartment complex, he wouldn't even label it a motel. Yet, he's curious. Luke and Kieran sent him photos of the inside, but he wants to see it for himself. The place where she lives, sleeps, and spends the free hours of her day; where she unwinds and feels the freedom to be herself.

Sylus looks at his Hunter, so small and delicate. She's thinner than he remembers, and still so pale. Had this last month taken such a toll on her? If he was honest, it hadn't been easy for him either. When her partner had taken her from him, it felt as though half his heart had vanished with her. Sylus had buried his yearning and his need for her in his hunt for Noxis and search for an antidote. But, now that he was faced with the object of his desire directly, he could hardly resist her magnetic pull.

"Then, is this where we say good night?" Sylus asks, ready to pull back if she wills it. He hopes she doesn't; wonders if he actually would be able to listen if she tries to push him away.

"Do you want to...come up?" she asks, as though reading his thoughts. Relief. Excitement. He smirks in amusement, tucking a strand or two of flyaways back behind her ear. He makes sure to graze his fingertip against her skin in passing, gauging the level of her interest, reading every one of her minute expressions. To his delight, she shivers at his touch and covers his hand with hers.

"Is that what you want, kitten?" he smiles, wondering if he should take the high road. She's just been through something of an ordeal. She's likely exhausted. He should leave her be. Let her rest. Recover in mind and body. But, where's the fun in that? Especially when she's looking at him with such raw yearning, barely contained by the silly notion of what she calls "propriety".

If anyone asked him for his not so humble opinion, she was far from proper. Nothing about her was. Her eyes were pools of verdant ocean, light in places and dark in others. It was that darkness that now called to him and tempted, like a vast unknown crying out to be discovered. She was molded like a tempting little morsel, too. Firm and shapely with a slim waist and flaring hips, soft thighs he was dying to bite into, and perky breasts just begging for his affection. A bite-sized feminine package that he wanted to --

"I'd like that. For you to come up that is..." Her eyes skitter away from his. She deigns to blush. The little minx. Never honest and always so prideful. As if she could hide her thirst from him; as if he would ever leave her unsated.

"And what are you expecting me to do once you have me there?" He licks his lips, running his fingers through her hair then moving his hand down to the small of her back. Her breath hitches. The air between them grows charged and heavy.

"Well..." she still doesn't meet his eyes. "Your clothes are torn. And dirty."

"Mhmm..." He leans in, wrapping his arm tighter around her so their chests are flush. "And...do you have some spare shirts up there for me?" Her breasts rise and fall against him, her nipples already hard and pebbled. "Do you have so many men stop by that you keep such things on hand?"

"W-What?" she blinks up at him, and he finds comfort in the confused expression on her lovely face. Still, a flare of jealousy bites at him. Like a taser to the gut. He knows his words ring hollow, but just the thought is enough to sting. Sylus allows her blue-eyed partner a spot in her vicinity. For now. Out of necessity. Even then, the nuisance shows far too much interest in what is his.

Her phone rings out with an irritating and unfamiliar melody, breaking the moment. Sylus doesn't appreciate her rush to answer it.

"Xavier," she says, her brow furrowing.

Well. Well. Speak of the devil.

"I'm sorry. I know my message earlier was out of the blue. Everything is OK now."

A voice speaks on the other end, muffled by her ear.

"No, honestly I can't tell you what happened. Everything is a blur at the moment. I think I'm just in shock. There was a fire, and I think Malakai was involved. I'm safe, though."

More useless words and questions on the other end.

Impatient, Sylus reaches for her, but she pushes gently at his hand. He raises a brow. She doesn't meet his gaze. Irritation flares like a sparking firecracker in his chest. Really, now? What is this subtle body language? Does she have the audacity to ignore him? To command him to wait?

Ridiculous.

His Evol wraps around her wrist and hand, keeping both still as he pushes her up against the wall of the building behind a decorative set of trees. His jacket slips off of her onto the ground. She doesn't have time to be shocked before his lips press against hers. His tongue pushes into her mouth, breaking through a resistance so feeble its almost laughable. Slipping and dipping. Hands aggressively lifting her shirt and sliding beneath; caressing soft skin. In moments, she's writhing against him, gasping when he presses her other hand against the bulge in his pants.

"Ellara? Are you there?" the voice asks over the phone.

Sylus moves her thumb to push the "speaker" button. He lets her break the kiss, far too amused by the rising flush in her cheeks and the angry glint in her eye. She looks like she might hit him; he kind of wishes she would try. It would thrill him to watch her struggle, to tame his little vixen into writhing, wanton, and panting submission. Let her scratch at him with her little claws, too. Oh how he loves when she does that.

"I-I'm here," she says breathlessly. "Sorry, trying to find my keys so I can get inside."

"So you're at home now? You're safe?"

"Y-Yes. Everything is --mnn---" She bites her lip as Sylus's hand slips under her bra and cups her breast, rubbing against a hardened nipple with his finger. "---Everything is fine."

"You sound weird. Are you sure you're OK?"

She glares at Sylus again, but his smile only widens.

"Xavier, I promise I'm OK." She hesitates. A few emotions cross her face at blinding speed. She bites her lip and grimaces. "The truth is...I'm...not alone."

The voice over the phone goes silent.

Check mate.

Sylus can't help how his eyes grow wide in surprise at her admission. Truly, she is entirely unpredictable. Yet, so naïve. He's certain that she's completely oblivious to how the man on the phone feels about her, but despite that ignorance, his first guess would have been that she would shy away from revealing their connection. Yet, here she is. Being honest. And not in a subtle way either.

Despite this bold admission, the fire in her body doesn't abate. She's trembling against him, her pupils blown wide with lust and her lips swollen from his kisses. Should he make her moan louder? Until she can't talk at all anymore? She turns to him. Sees his intent. And the fear that widens her lovely eyes is just so delicious. That exquisite cocktail of anxiety, anticipation, embarrassment, and want makes his body grow hard and tight.

"Um...I'll call you first thing in the morning, OK? A lot's happened tonight, and I need to make sense of it all."

"As long as you're safe..." the voice says in a controlled monotone, the underlying anger there somehow satisfying.

Sylus pulls back his Evol and lets her end the call. As soon as its over, he grabs her by the hips and turns her towards the wall. As her soft ass presses against him, he can't help but make a sound of arousal. He ignores her when she whispers his name, rubbing against her, driving himself crazy at the thought of rucking up her skirt, ripping off her panties, and --

"No...Sylus...someone will see..."

He presses his nose against her ear, taking a deep breath of her scent, letting her soft hair tickle his jaw and send shivers down his core.

"Is that your only complaint?" he growls. "If so, then..." he grinds against her.

"Please..someone will see us..." she breathes, arching her back. 

"You're not doing yourself any favors by begging me like that, sweetie," he warns. "One more word and I'll have you right here..." he drops to a whisper, relishing her helpless whimper as he sucks on her earlobe. "Unless that's what you wanted me to do from the beginning."

Ellara bites her lip. Through the haze in his thoughts, he feels how cold her skin is, and some rationale returns. Wasn't he the one who was concerned about her moving through the winter chill?

"Please," she whispers. "Let's go inside."

He sighs. Gathering her against him, he Jumps to the third floor then through the wall until they're standing in her dark entryway. Her apartment smells as sweet as he imagined. Strawberries, perhaps. Or cherry blossoms. It's a subtle scent; not purposeful. Something gathered over time rather than forced with candles or oils. It's soothing, though at the moment there isn't much that can be done to quench the fire in his blood.

She wanders off to put on her slippers. Or tries to. Sylus doesn't wait until she's taken off her shoes; he can't. The phone call set off something feral in him. Territorial. As soon as possible, he wants to ensure that he is the only one occupying her thoughts and worries. Ignoring her weak and shy protests, he roughly pulls her up against him and into his arms.

Shower first. To get the smell of that fire off of her. Get her warm and comfortable. Help her relax in the steam with his hands and fingers. Check her skin for burns and injuries with his mouth and tongue. A noble pursuit, one should think. Look at him taking the high road after all.

I missed you.

I've needed you.

I've longed for you.

In all the ways he can, he tells her this without words. Through mind-numbing frantic kisses. Through bold caresses and touches. He tries to be mindful of his strength, but she tests his self-control. He bites. His fingers hold too tight. He's so hard it hurts, but he refuses to take her. Not yet. First, he wants to hear her scream his name. Moan and whimper and beg him to come.

He shoves her back up against the shower wall and kneels down, holding her hands and wrists in place with his Evol so his own are free to wreak havoc on her senses.

"Spread your legs," Sylus tells her, pressing his lips against the flat of her belly. He rubs his jaw against her skin. Up and down. Letting her feel him and gasp in anticipation. His lips ghost downwards, hands running over her thighs and to her calves. Down then up again until she's squirming. "More," he croons, pressing a kiss to the apex of her thighs. She throws her head back and shudders. Even under the hot water, goosebumps run across her skin.

In the end, she proves too shy. Or maybe the sensations are simply too intense.

He grabs the back of her knee, nudging her leg up.

"Wait...Sylus..."

"You know I won't," he chuckles, placing her knee against his muscular shoulder and spreading her wide open to his burning gaze and eager touch. When she fights, he steadies her with more of his Evol, unwilling to entertain her shyness in this moment. With his hands, he smoothes her legs apart, easing her open even more, baring the glistening petals of her sex to his blazing red eyes.

"Are you ready for this, sweetie?" he rasps, nearly delirious with his need to taste her. He doesn't wait for a coherent reply. Slowly -- torturously so -- he nudges her clit with his nose, blowing a faint stream of air over the hypersensitive flesh. She jerks against his restraints. Above his head, she gives a broken sigh. He looks up, staring into her wide lust-filled eyes, the color darker than he's ever seen it.

Unable to wait any longer, he laps at her, his tongue moving in darting, twisting circles against her folds. His eyes close at the euphoric taste of her. She shudders, her head shaking back and forth as her hips dance against his mouth. He moans against her core, intentional with the vibrations of his rumbling voice. She cries out wordlessly, her voice raw,  straining so much against his Evol that her whole body shakes. Her knee quivers on his shoulder, toes curling.

Squeezing the thigh resting on him, he brings his free hand up to her opening and eases a finger inside to his knuckle. She rewards him with a squeal, and he starts moving it in and out of her. He pulls against her shivering walls then pushes back inside. Again and again as she wails and thrashes in ecstasy. Honeyed juices rush out against his lips and tongue, and he adds another finger.

"Yes!" she whimpers desperately. "Yes...yes, please!"

He hums against her, her excitement driving his own. Still pumping his fingers in and out of her, he pulls her clit into his mouth and starts sucking. Her insides quiver and tighten around his fingers, flesh swelling under his ministrations.

"Don't stop," she begs, tears running down her cheeks. "Don't stop, please!"

He groans as she shudders wildly against him, her orgasm catching them both off guard. It's sharp and intense, and she's clearly overstimulated. He eases her down, maintaining steady soft motions against her with his tongue. Gradually, she softens against him. Sated, silky. He backs away from her sensitive bud, pressing a soft kiss to her folds and then her thigh. With a stray thought, he releases his Evol from around her body.

Small, delicate hands weave into his hair. Nails graze at his scalp. He hooks his hand around the back of her knee. This time, as he stands, he lifts her leg up and presses himself between her folds. She's still coming down, still dazed, and its in this half delirium that he finally surges into her. She's so tight that he nearly comes on the spot, but he reigns himself in. Not now. Not yet. It's been too long and he needs to be joined with her, to rail her until there's no room for anyone in her thoughts but him.

Both of them groan loudly when Sylus finally settles himself all the way inside, so deep that the head of his cock pushes right up against the opening of her cervix. Despite his vicious and desperate train of thought, he's careful with her. Gentle. Slow. Lost in his love for her. Bewildered, as he thrills at hearing her chant his name in soft cadence to each thrust. Like she's claiming him. Like he's hers just as she is his. She wraps her arms around his neck, and he lets out a ragged breath of pleasure as she brushes her lips across his jaw and ear. Surrendering. Accepting him. Urging him to go faster without saying a word.

She explodes right as he does. He groans as his orgasm washes over him. He spills his passion inside her, spearing into her tight passage over and over as the madness holds him in a vice. His body tightens, muscles quivering as instinct has him thrust once more as deep as he can possibly go. Her nails rake down the back of his neck, and he sees white at the euphoric pain. 

Piece by piece, the haze falls away. He grows aware of her silence and slow breathing. Concerned, Sylus brings an unsteady hand to the back of her head, stroking through her wet hair.

"Sweetie," he calls. "Are you alright?"

She makes a little sound of agreement, but doesn't move. Carefully, he lowers her leg to the ground. When she's steady, she hugs him tight. He turns off the water and snags a nearby fluffy pink towel, wrapping it around her. 

Their bodies are slick and wet. As she moves against him, the friction of her silky skin slipping against his abs sets his heart racing for a moment. It's an unfamiliar and dizzying sensation, and she is the only one who can trigger the phenomenon. He feels himself swelling against her belly, already hungry again. 

She inhales sharply when she realizes, her fingers exploring him. He grips the hair at the back of her head, suddenly fantasizing about how her mouth would feel wrapped around him. Perhaps soon, he can find out. 

"Sylus..." Her brilliant green eyes meet his. She's blushing, still shy despite everything thats happened between them. Just as earlier that day, he's helpless to refuse what she's about to ask. "Please, will you stay tonight?"

Strange. Unknowable. Wonderful. Terrible little creature.

His weakness.

If she wanted, she could completely and utterly destroy him.

She'd done it before, after all. Many a time.

"What is it? Have I not satisfied you enough?" he teases, tracing the lines of her back.

"It's not that," she burrows her flushed face against his shoulder. "I just...I've missed you..."

"Hmm...such honeyed words for me."

"I mean it," she hugs him tighter. 

He makes a sound, half sigh half chuckle. It's his turn to surrender. 

"Alright. I'll stay." He presses a kiss against her forehead. "But, I doubt you'll be getting any sleep." 

[ch4singchase]

The Ballad of Moths | LUKE CASTELLAN

Summary: Eurydice Gaumont receives gifts from her father and one of these proves invaluable as her journey intersects with fellow demigods.

Word count: 4.9K

Warnings: Mentions of blood and Injury, violence, grief, ophidiophobia (since the monster in this chapter is a giant snake), mentions of death, mild language

chapter one, chapter two | series masterlist

chapter 02: I Defend A Bunch Of Kids From A Giant Snake

The rhythmic tap of rain against my bus window played a lullaby, coaxing me into a swift slumber.

Abruptly, I was no longer confined to the bus; the rain had transformed into the hushed serenity of a forest. This was no typical ominous woods of a horror story; its allure lay in a distinct kind of beauty.

Drawing near a tree, my fingers traced the rough texture of its trunk, relishing the tactile sensation. The leaves gracefully danced, swaying in a tranquil wind, as if encouraging a shared nap. Smiling up at them, I entertained the whimsical idea that the tree and its surroundings comprehended my thoughts.

A soft flap of wings echoed behind me, and there it was—the moth that helped me understand where I should go earlier.

This was the same moth, its wings a rich black with subtle brown accents, patiently awaiting my presence in a circular dance.

"Hello, buddy," I greeted cautiously, extending my hand to see its reaction, "How's it going?"

Predictably, the moth remained silent. It alighted on my fingertip and then took flight, leading me along a specific path among the trees, unveiling a concealed trail through the forest. Glancing at the shadows that enveloped the moth's chosen route, a fleeting doubt crossed my mind—was it truly wise to follow?

Without dwelling on the question, I pursued the enigmatic guide, allowing instinct to override rational contemplation.

As I ventured deeper into the forest, the canopy above formed a protective shield against the sporadic drizzle that started. The moth continued its dance ahead, weaving through the foliage with an innate knowledge of the path, as if the trees themselves whispered directions to their winged companion.

Moss-covered rocks and the scent of damp earth under foot marked my journey. The woods seemed to respond to my presence, embracing me in a mysterious symphony of rustling leaves and distant calls of unseen creatures. Nature itself had become my guide, and the moth, my silent escort through this living tapestry.

The path curved, revealing a hidden glade bathed in ethereal moonlight. In the center stood a peculiar tree, its silver bark shimmering in the celestial glow. The moth settled on a branch, and as if on cue, the air became charged with an otherworldly energy.

I looked around, confused. The wind gently brazed my cheeks, guiding some leaves with it and revealing what was hiding in the glade until now.

Moths. A bunch of moths. All joining the one guiding me into a beautiful dance.

Perhaps, when I was younger, I would be frightened, but instead, I was just stunned by it. They were gracious and in an infinity of colors, painting the air like a vivid rainbow in the middle of the night. Even some fireflies had heard their excitement and joined the party, lightning the night in a blink of an eye.

“She’s here, she’s here, she’s finally going home!” They all seemed to whisper, even if I couldn’t understand what they meant by it.

Where was here? Were they following me? Were they the ones who sent the moth to help me?

There were too many questions and no answers.

“No, no,” they all repeated to what sounded like a response, “Our friend did.”

“Yeah yeah,” others agreed, circling around me as they did so, “Your father.”

For the first time since I had seen the moth from before, I ventured to speak up.

“My father?” It was just me repeating what they had just said but, still, it had taken me some type of courage to say so, “He’s dead, how is that possible?”

“Dead?” most of them laughed, as if I had told them a joke, “That’s not possible; he is a god.”

What?

“You heard us,” it seemed like I hadn’t only questioned it in my head, “You’re the daughter of a god.”

I stood frozen for a couple of seconds. A god…?

I recalled what the Cyclops had called me, a Half-Blood. Cyclopes, chimeras, half-blood, all of them were characters that my mother had once told me were tales. Stories in Ancient Greece, myths. Nothing more but stories.

But stories don’t simply come to life. They have to have always been there.

If they were talking about gods, they could only be the Greek ones, right? The Olympian ones and so on.

“How...” I tried to ask... Anything, honestly. But I didn’t even know where I could start; in the end, I was talking to moths, what was crazier than that?

“We can’t tell you everything,” some of the moths mumbled.

“Yeah yeah, he had told us just to help you find your way but we couldn’t stop ourselves,” others complained.

“Once we heard you were still alive, we were so excited,” the moths giggled, holding back screams of joy.

“Yeah, even if one of us ended up saying something about the titan, we wanted to risk a chance,” one in a million of their siblings said, and if almost every one of them were speaking at the same time, I heard it.

Every single one, but one brought my curiosity, “Titan?”

It was all I needed to ask before they went into a deep silence.

The moths hushed as my question lingered in the night air. Their whispering dance seemed to still, and the anticipation was palpable. Then, one moth separated itself from the swirling mass and approached me.

It wasn’t the same one I was already familiar with compared to the others, but its wings fluttered with a measured elegance.

“We should not say anything about it,” the moth said, “It’s just a rumor, a cruel one”

“But the prophecy?” one of the others questioned, daring the one that was speaking for them, “The prophecy says…”

Most of them hushed the little one, giving voice to the same one of before, “As I said, it’s just a rumor. Some things are better left unknown, life must unfold naturally..”

“You said about a prophecy,” I tried to reason with it, approaching the moth, “What prophecy?”

The moth shook its little head, “You must go now, Eurydice Gaumont”

“No” I persisted, stomping my feet into the ground.

But it didn’t matter what I wanted, slowly the scenario around me started to go blurry and slowly the sound of rain tapping returned.

I protested, but the scene blurred, and before waking, I heard the words, "In shadows deep, a reaper's kid must tread..."

Then, I was back on the bus again. Alone.

I looked around, trying to look for something. But despite the sleepy sleepers who snored near me, there was nothing new after the dream. It was still dark, the first sign of sun daring to peek out of their hidden spot.

Sighing, I looked at the sky, searching for an answer. At that point, I wouldn’t be surprised if the answer came in the form of a god of the sun trying to mime what I should do next. Or sing—I didn’t know much about Greek gods at that time, but I was almost sure that the god of the sun in the stories also sang.

What was that I had heard? A reaper’s kid, right?

Now, what did that mean?

Sighing once more at the dawn of that day, every time it looked like things were making sense, my life would get twisted.

A sound of wings caught my attention when I looked at the empty seat by my side. The moth from the convenience store and my dream was my company once more. If it had a face, it would look like regret or shame.

It flapped its wings, as if to call my attention again.

“I’m seeing you, stupid,” It flapped its wings one more time, perhaps it didn’t like being called stupid, “You didn’t talk like your siblings at that forest right, I don’t remember hearing you”

And I truly didn't. For some reason, I could recognize each moth that had talked in that clearing, but none of them was the one that had been with me since Springfield.

This time, the moth flapped its wings twice.

"Alright," I scoffed, contemplating the sanity of conversing with a moth. "Enough beating around the bush; what do you want to tell me?"

Rather than flapping, the moth took flight, turning beneath my seat. I didn’t know how to curse, but what I thought was similar to a ‘what the fuck?’

Leaning forward, I peered beneath my seat, expecting to find the bags from the convenience store—snacks, sweets, water, a flashlight, and some change. Yet, unlike what I remembered, there was also a backpack.

Which, by chance, was not mine.

It reminded me of the backpacks I had seen at the store or some of the other people on that bus wearing, but I didn't have enough money to buy even a fanny pack.

Puzzled, I picked up the backpack and examined it. It seemed lost, probably belonging to another passenger. To my surprise, my name was on a sticker affixed to it.

Was it truly mine?

I opened the backpack, looking for what could be inside.

If my expectations were set on receiving a cellphone, all-star shoes, additional snacks, clothing, or perhaps a map, I would find myself in a perpetual state of hope until the arrival of the non-existent date of February 31st. Alas, none of those anticipated items were to be found.

What I found was, in fact, a leather wristband with a snap button closure, adorned with small stones. Accompanying it were a couple of coins, featuring a peculiar carving that deviated from any standard penny. Doubtingly, I reached in, confirming the wristband, coins… Plus a map.

At least that.

Exhaling deeply, I hoped my godly father, wherever he was, could hear me. Was this his gift? A questionable assistance from a man presumed dead.

Truthfully, I anticipated something more beneficial for survival, perhaps a letter explaining his whereabouts and the ongoing events. It was the least he could offer after all these years.

My mother had portrayed him as a soldier with a calm heart, unwilling to return to duty but aware of their need for a reminder of peace. How every end no matter how it began, would meet peace. She would always remind me that he would be the one to go down in a nonviolent way, with his hand laying on his chest, above his heart.

Would. She never said he was. Because he was a god, a greek god.

Knowing I was aware of his divine status, he chose to bestow upon me strange money, a wristband, and a map. Well, the map, at least, seemed somewhat helpful.

I stowed away the bags containing my purchases from Springfield into the backpack, arranging the snacks and supplies meticulously to avoid any mishaps during my travels—whether it involved catching the next bus or evading a new monster.

The coins and map found their place inside the backpack as well. However, before I could tuck away the wristband, curiosity got the better of me. It was a finely crafted leather piece, elegant and delicate.

Examining it closely, I wondered if my father had crafted it himself. The mere thought tightened my heartstrings.

Looking at the inside of the wristband, I frowned when I found something carved into the leather. Something was written into another language.

I turned the wristband and looked at it closely, words were always hard to me so if I wanted to understand what it meant, I would have to take my time.  If I intended to understand its meaning, patience would be crucial. Or so I thought.

As the letters began to weave into each other, a surprising clarity emerged. Instead of becoming a confusing jumble, they started to make sense.

Tenebris.

While it wasn't an exact match to what was written, it was undeniably the meaning it conveyed.

Latin, perhaps?

Gazing at the wristband once more, I opted not to return it to the backpack. Instead, I made the choice to wear it.

Perhaps my father had indeed crafted it. Wearing it became my silent expression of appreciation, a subtle invitation for him to emerge from his hidden shell.

Ultimately, it proved to be a beautiful wristband.

When I looked out the window again, the sun was already rising. We seemed to have arrived in New Haven, recognizable to me from a previous visit. It appeared we were near State St, very close to Yale.

There was a time when I thought I might study there, a distant dream from my younger self. Back then, despite never attending a real school, I held onto the possibility.

Revisiting the city at fourteen, a few years later, doubt crept in.

Knowing what I now knew, it wasn't hard to recognize that the odds were always against me. I never had the chance, not before, and certainly not now.

As soon as the bus stopped and the other passengers started to get off, I did the same. I picked up my backpack and put it on, following the others to the street, deciding to be the last one to get down.

For a moment, I waited a bit before finally getting off, looking inside the bus and waiting for the moth from earlier to appear and follow it. But, it didn't happen.

So, I went my way. If I remembered correctly, there shouldn't be another bus stop so far away, I could eat something on the way while I looked and hope my change would be enough for the next ticket. Or, hope they would accept my dad's weird coins.

As I strolled down the street, I seized the opportunity to approach strangers, concocting a flimsy tale about a new school on Long Island and my ailing parents unable to assist with transportation. However, as they began to provide directions, a sinking feeling crept in.

Clearly, I lacked the funds for the entire journey.

Faced with limited options, I considered potential avenues. One option involved seeking employment on the streets, donning a somber expression and appealing to tourists for financial assistance. Ironically, the more morally questionable choice proved to be the swifter means of acquiring funds.

Anyway, I tried to risk it, at least make it to the bus stop that supposedly was the cheapest one to my journey. Maybe, the driver could take some pity on me and take me to Pennsylvania. If not, I would have start to figure how to gain money for the whole trip, I wouldn’t dare to walk all the way to that fucking camp.

I walked, walked, walked and walked down State St. As I traversed the street, covering only a fraction of the distance, I encountered a Thai Restaurant. The sight of it made my stomach protest loudly; I hadn't eaten in a while, and the prolonged walking intensified my hunger.

However, there was no way I would eat in the middle of the street, under the scrutinizing gaze of strangers. That was out of the question.

Despite mustering all the courage, I hesitated to knock on the closed restaurant's door. Even if a waiter were to appear, what excuse could I possibly give for not wanting to dine outside?

So, I found an alternative. In less than a minute, I seated myself in an alley, extracting a snack from my backpack and indulging in it.

In fact, that was within question.

Ignoring the curious glances of passersby, I continued my impromptu meal. Candies followed, accompanied by sips of water. This brief moment of rest was crucial before resuming my walk under the scorching sun.

I just needed two minutes, or maybe ten… Honestly, a whole thirty minutes were enough for me to restore my energy.

As I rested, I took another look at the wristband I was wearing. The more attention I paid to it, the more I noticed a strange energy emanating from it. It was difficult to explain and even less tangible—an unknown aura surrounding something hidden inside the leather, beyond the engraved letters.

When I opened my mouth to express the feeling, the only thing that came to mind was the night of a day or two ago.

My mother was held in the air by the monster's hand, the only one watching her intensely and impatiently, while all she did instead of fighting was ask me to run. And run was what I did.

Until I heard her scream—a stunning, heart-wrenching scream that froze my feet in place, forcing me to witness her body flying to my side, blood overflowing from her mouth. Her torso seemed broken or twisted enough to inflict severe internal injuries.

Still, she had the strength to ask me to keep running. How could I? How could I run and leave her behind?

I couldn't do that. Instead, I stood beside her, ignoring the disturbing footsteps of the Cyclops approaching.

I held my mother's hands, hoping to somehow absorb her strength. Perhaps I did, for even though I didn't follow her request, it seemed to matter little to her. As if, in the end, she felt no pain.

Tears and sobs dampened my face, but I could swear she thanked me. Ridiculous, considering I should be thanking her for being an incredible mother, sacrificing everything for my safety. If only I had known sooner...

After that, everything was a blur, difficult to understand. Holding her hands, a strange sensation tingled down my spine, adrenaline coursing through my entire body. When I saw my mother attempting to say something but succumbing to exhaustion...

The Cyclops was already beside me, reaching to grab me.

Anything between that moment and the hospital was a haze. Fragments of memories. I recalled his hands trying to lift me off the ground, my palms facing his monstrously large fingers. Almost facing a 5-meter drop but feeling no pain.

When the ambulance arrived and I reached the hospital, attempting to explain what I had understood about the situation at the time, they were most surprised that I hadn't broken my legs or at least sprained an ankle. But I think my exhaustion and grief were enough for them to believe me.

I tightened my lips, holding back tears at the memory. What did my mother's death have to do with my father's gift?

Tenebris—was that really the only clue I had?

Gradually, a shift occurred in the air, and it didn't escape my notice.

Within moments, an unsettling realization dawned – something was amiss. The streets teemed with people running in the opposite direction of my intended path once I felt ready to resume my journey. Fear and confusion etched on their faces left me puzzled about the impending threat.

Swiftly, I rose, stowing away my belongings in my backpack and hoisting it onto my back. Approaching adults warned me of an out-of-control truck menacing pedestrians, urging me to find safety. Some chose the rational path, sprinting toward the police station for genuine assistance.

However, skepticism gnawed at me. It didn't ring true. Something felt off.

My eyes caught sight of the unfolding drama a few streets away, just beyond the dog park on the opposite side of my position.

Initially, I perceived three kids, one notably smaller than the others, sprinting from an unseen threat. The girl in black wielded a makeshift spear, while her companion brandished a golf club. How could such feeble weapons aid their escape from an out-of-control truck? Why weren't they going to a store or going to the sidewalk?

Then, I understood.

At first glance, the runaway vehicle resembled a refrigerated truck, careening down the road with a desperate screech. The driver, concealed behind black-tinted windows, eluded my view from this distance.

However, as I advanced, sidestepping the frantic adults, reality emerged.

It was no truck, but a snake. A giant fucking snake. There was no other way to describe it.

All the sense I was lacking suddenly decided to take control of my actions. My brain, which had previously been unable to muster the courage to stand at the door of a closed restaurant, had now regained enough courage to force my feet to run after that atrocity.

For no logical or plausible reason, from one moment to the next, my rationality  was replaced by stupidity.

The monstrous serpent pursued the kids, including the one almost the same age I was when I met Viola. It seemed absurd to consider intervening, given the potential to continue on my way or capitalize on the disturbance to pilfer from unsuspecting pockets. Yet, I couldn't turn away.

Just as I couldn't flee when my mother's cries pierced the air or when she tried to wrench me from Viola's grasp as the Chimera's stinger pierced her chest in the past.

Perhaps it was stubbornness, authentic courage, or sheer impertinence.

It remained unclear where my resolve originated as the idea of confronting a giant snake pursuing a group of children took hold.

The snake, swift and destructive, both hindered the children and itself. Exploiting that and my familiarity with the streets and their shortcuts, I discerned an opportunity to intervene.

I ran like I had rarely ran before, until the tips of the toes hurt. My sneakers had already gone belly-up to that moment, after all the running I have being doing in the past months.

I walked around the streets, without for a second taking my eyes off the scales of that thing. Entering some alleys and following the murmurs and exclamations of the children as they tried to formulate a plan, even though they were at a disadvantage.

Swallowing hard, I took advantage of the shelter outside some buildings to avoid the fragments of asphalt, cement, poles and benches flying everywhere. Gradually but quickly managing to reach that monster.

But that didn't mean I didn’t continue to run, attempting to maintain a good and safe distance between the giant snake and the peculiar trio.

"Hey, girl!" the older girl from the trio shouted, attempting to grab my attention. "Get out of here, it's not safe!"

She wore dark clothes that complemented her short, black hair and extremely light blue eyes. In addition to the makeup on her face, which was almost gone, having been worn away by time for a long time.

It didn't take long to notice her limp, a testament to an injured foot sustained during the chase – or even before.

I just smiled, hiding behind some trash cans and away from the giant snake's senses, hoping it would continue to pay all its attention to that bunch of kids. Which, to be honest, weren't much younger than me, except for the little girl.

"No, you guys go," I shouted back, "Head into the park and blend in with the crowd there. It'll be hard for them to believe that a truck would actually enter a park."

At least, that's what I thought at the time. Nowadays, I know that mundanes would still believe in the idea of an out-of-control truck wreaking havoc, even within a park.

They didn't follow my advice; instead, they halted their escape.

“Aegis,” the girl from before exclaimed, and her bracelet transformed into an incredible shield. She shielded her friends, positioning the protective barrier in front of them, waiting to see my next move. The boy behind her appeared both confused and scared, alternating his gaze between me and his friend as if awaiting an order.

At this point, I was hoping for one too. I had no idea what to do, and I didn't even have a weapon.

However, the giant snake paid no heed. I could distinctly hear its slithering and the destruction of cars in its path. I refused to let fear or my earlier stupidity show on my face.

Instead, I glanced at my wrist, the leather band my father had given me. For a moment, I wished it were a weapon, similar to the girl's shield bracelet.

Despite having the slightest idea of how to handle a weapon, I hoped for anything that could help me assist those three.

Timing couldn't have been worse for it to resurface, but as I looked at a trash can in front of me, the usual moth landed patiently, as if awaiting something.

Perhaps it shared the girl's curiosity about what I would do.

Then, I remembered—the sound of rain yesterday morning, at the funeral, and even at night on the bus, a hostage to "what ifs" that could have transpired instead of my current reality. I remembered the blood, dark red staining my hands and clothes, and how cold it felt against my skin. I didn't care, holding my mother's hands with all my might.

Just like I tried to hold Viola that day, attempting unsuccessfully to move her body away from the Chimera's sting.

The giant snake drew closer, its slithering growing clearer by the second.

Glancing at my wristband again, the carved words caught my eye.

Out of the corner, I saw the snake's scales and its wild eyes. Emerging from my hiding place, a word escaped my mouth like a battle cry before I fully comprehended my own line of reasoning.

"Tenebris!"

A blinding light filled the air, halting the giant snake and diverting its attention towards me. I closed my eyes, feeling the wristband transform within seconds.

Suddenly, something weighed down in my hand, like the sheath of a sword. Its dark sheath matched my wristband's leather, and its slightly curved blade, made of an uncanny bronze material, felt strangely familiar. Bronze. The sword's blade was made of bronze.

As quickly as the light appeared, it dissipated, replaced by a cloud of darkness covering my ankles and part of the street and alley.

The trio gaped at the spectacle. The older girl struggled to maintain her defensive stance, her injured foot hindering her movements. The younger one's wide and curious eyes betrayed a mix of fear and fascination, while the boy among them clutched his golf club with a determined expression that hinted at a desire to help.

Without giving the serpent a chance to recover from the blinding light from before, I surged forward, the newfound sword in hand. The blade cut through the air with a metallic hum, and I slashed at the serpent's scaly underbelly.

It hissed in pain, recoiling momentarily.

In the end, the wristband was a useful gift. I had to remind myself, one day, to thank my dad.

Seizing the opportunity, I circled the serpent, keeping it off balance, continuing to slash its scaly skin. It tried to knock me down with a movement of its body, but before that could happen, I dodged it, cutting its scales once again. But this time I made a point of sticking my sword in, hoping to hit some organ of his, then pulling the sword out.

The boy with black hair, recognizing an opening, sprinted to the serpent's other side, wielding his golf club like a hero facing a dragon from the tales. His fearless determination served as a distraction, affording me yet another chance to strike.

The girl, despite her injury, bravely stood her ground, using her shield to protect us and the little girl. While, said little girl, spurred by a sudden burst of courage, found a dagger in her pocket and joined the fray.

The serpent, now enraged, lunged at us with deadly precision. The older girl skillfully deflected its strikes with her shield, while the boy continued to harass it from the side. The younger girl and I coordinated our attacks, aiming for vulnerable spots between the scales.

As the battle raged on, I felt a surge of adrenaline, my movements becoming more fluid and instinctive. My sword seemed to respond to my will, enhancing my speed and strength. Each strike resonated with power, and the serpent's resistance weakened.

Finally, with a resounding clash, I drove the sword into the serpent's forehead, or what looked like its forehead. The creature convulsed, its massive form thrashing before collapsing to the ground. The dark cloud dissipated, leaving only the echoes of the intense battle.

Breathing heavily, I turned to face the trio, equally exhausted.

They, too, looked weary, particularly the girl nursing an injured leg. Despite their fatigue, they regarded me with awe, as if I had materialized from the pages of a fantastical tale. Given the circumstances, I couldn't blame them.

I didn't blame them, I really had appeared out of nowhere.

"I'm Thalia," the older girl introduced herself, leaning against a wall as her shield reverted to a bracelet. "That's Annabeth," she pointed to the younger dark-skinned girl, now displaying a hint of shyness.

"And I'm Luke," the boy interjected, assisting his friend to stand while keeping a watchful eye on me, still processing the surreal reality of our shared encounter with the monstrous serpent.

"I'm Eurydice," I replied, glancing at my sword and back at them. "It seems like you needed a little help."

“We did,” Luke agreed, looking at me from head to toe, but keeping his eyes on mine while talking to me, “And I think we still do”

Shifting his attention to his injured friend, he examined her leg, revealing a severe wound beneath her baggy jeans. Thalia attempted to whisper something to Luke, diverting his hands away from the injury.

Feeling lost and searching for a solution, my eyes wandered, and I spotted a parked car on a nearby sidewalk—doors open and windows relatively intact. It seemed like an abandoned vehicle amidst the chaos.

"I can drive," I offered, drawing the trio's attention. "I just need to know where we should go and someone who knows how to start a car without a key."

Luke sighed, helping Thalia walk toward me, followed by Annabeth.

"Lucky for you, I know both," the grin he flashed at me while uttering those words hinted at one unmistakable thing: trouble.

[gandergaal]

Okay I read the Grandest Game.....

Spoiler warning

So I got the epub.

It was in one word... intense. So much going on so much tension yet it feels like nothing had happened and we only got the introduction.

LOVED

The OG characters, this book made me love them more. Like- Nash, Xander and Avery.

NASH n'Libby had BabieS ? Jaw drop movement.

The Game was truly grand. JLB fed us exactly what we wanted.

Esp, when the symbols unveiled and the infinity to eight movement (so many callbacks)

Tho I knew that Gray is a player, literal GoOseBumpS.

The callbacks, and how everything Jen posted- the cards, the sneak peaks and the book cover; they all just pieced together. It was lovely.

I am happy that Grayson is ready this time, he isn't that tortured person anymore, he is healing and admitting to his faults and flaws.

Lyra's POV was my fave

Rohan's grew on me a little late but it still did.

DID NOT LIKE

It got a little confusing at times I loved Gigi's chapter and by that I mean Gigi. But the Knox-Brady thing was a bit too much for me.

Idk if anyone will share this opinion, but

GRAY AND LYRA FELT RUSHED, IF ONLY A LITTLE BIT.

Like three phone calls and 12 hours together could just do it. This is Grayson, he had said he doesn't fall at first sight. The way Odette talked, 'twas like they were meant to be but how does she get to say that?

Lyra's POV was centred around the game and her trauma and she was really great but how fast she fell for Gray was a bit off putting for me. I felt a slow burn would have worked great. But in the end it's JLB's book and I'll still eat up her work.

The Cliffhangers,

Gigi being more involved with Eve and Slate, I predicted that. (Elated)

Sav- we knew that deep in our hearts didn't we?

Rohan, half a point to my prediction?

Odette Mora- Idk what to tell, admittingly, I do not quite understand whatheheck happened. Maybe more to be told in Games untold.

[shamanfox]

To embrace the world with compassion’s light,

Like mountains reaching their towering height,

From thickened mud where dreams still lie,

Unborn dragonfly, shadowed and shy.

To become a star, a mystery unveiled,

A grain of sand, in the cosmos sailed,

Floating free through eternity’s span,

An inside joke by a cosmic hand.

And to laugh like Buddha, in serene grace,

Existing in every familiar face—

As you, me, I, us, and them,

United beneath the heavens’ hem.

Watch as we pull the darkened sky,

Into our hearts, where dreams can fly,

Beyond the black holes’ endless pull,

Through portals where infinity’s full.

Now we hold them, within our grasp,

In the fleshly hand of humankind’s clasp,

And speak the deepest secrets known,

In the silent stare, where love has grown.

[shadyfestivalperfection]

MASTER LIST

1. AVENGERS: THE CREATOR

Summery: What if there was a seventh avenger? It’s no ordinary person but the creator of the infinity stones. Y/n is the universes most powerful being who created those stones to protect the universe and the multiverse. She is then recruited to join the Avengers initiative. Does she accept or reject the offer? What happens when her past enemy appears and destroy what she has created?

Characters: Avengers x f! Reader

Chapter 1: The Loki problem

Chapter 2: The woman behind the stones

Chapter 3: Unveiling the past

Chapter 4: The weight of the tesseract

Chapter 5: Into the heart of SHIELD

Chapter 6: Curiosity

Chapter 7: Unraveling the past

Chapter 8: The Battle of New York

Chapter 9: The road not taken

Chapter 10: The path chosen

Chapter 11: The past unfolded

Chapter 12: The price of power

Chapter 13: Welcome to Wakanda

Chapter 14: A war that never ended

Chapter 15: A birthday interrupted

Chapter 16: Bloodline’s last keeper

Status: ongoing. More chapters are on the way!

[weebz182]

Infinity Nikki- Whimsical Wardrobe丨Froggy Fashion

丨> Ability Outfit

"The Croakers are the cherished, charming neighbors and friends of Florawish,"Mayor Grace has noted. In celebration of this special bond, the town has launched the "Croaker"Fashion Style Award, and we are thrilled to unveil the most beloved design—the winner of the Best Popularity Award.

>>Ability: Electrician

Grants the ability to identify and fix electrical problems.

※ Equip the Lotus Umbrella or Twilight Lotus pieces to open a lotus umbrella in the game and stay dry in the rain!

※ During the event, use Revelation Crystals or limited-time Revelation Crystals to resonate in Croaker's Whisper. Every 5 Resonances guarantees a piece of the Froggy Fashion outfit. Reach specific Resonance milestones to earn corresponding 5-star outfit pieces from Deep Echoes.

[voxina]

The 67th annual Grammys carried heavier emotional weight than usual, thanks to the backdrop of the Los Angeles wildfires — but the show’s most heartbreaking moment came at the start of the In Memoriam section: a carefully crafted video tribute to former One Direction member Liam Payne, who died at age 31 in October. For Grammy Awards executive producer Ben Winston, who worked closely with Payne and One Direction, the loss was personal. “I love Liam very much,” Winston says in the new episode of Rolling Stone Music Now. “We worked with him for years, produced their movies, their music videos, their specials.  [Liam and I] spent a lot of time together, and we were together a few weeks before he passed away.”

The tribute appeared while Chris Martin sang “All My Love,” but it could’ve taken a different form entirely. Winston originally envisioned a stripped-down acoustic rendition of One Direction’s “Through the Dark,” which would’ve been separate from the In Memoriam tributes. But when the intended performer (who Winston didn’t want to name) proved unavailable, the producers pivoted. 

The broadcast also unveiled an unexpected gift for longtime fans: footage from an unreleased, never-finished One Direction music video that had achieved near-mythic status. “For years the fans have always been going, ‘Where’s the ‘Infinity’ video?'” Winston says. “But it never existed. There never was one, it was just some rushes.” These previously unseen moments were interwoven with selections from the band’s This Is Us documentary and footage from stadium performances. 

“If you look at it, the consistency of every single one of those clips is significant,” Winston says. “He’s looking over Verona and celebrating with his hands in the air and smiling, then he’s looking at Wembley Stadium, he’s smiling, then he’s at San Siro and he’s laughing. … That was really beautiful, just to show, across the period of a few years, his joy and kindness and love for life.”

A committee at the Recording Academy selects which deceased musicians and execs get honored in the In Memoriam section each year.  “I didn’t think they would mind this year if I just picked Liam out a little bit,” says Winston, “and just put him at the beginning, because I think he has affected so many people around the world and touched so many people with his music and his love and his light.”

[x]