#aeon of dreams reader

[hana-no-seiiki]

tw/cw: canon divergence.

Yes. Yes. YES.

Eternal Arbiter or Eternal Judge seek to hunt those that dare to awaken or steal away Aeon of Dreams from their Cradle. These are highly trained individuals who spent their entire lives hoping to die for one cause and one cause alone, you.

Librarium Phantasia is the location of which all dreams are stored and studied by the Scholars of Phantasia.

The denominations above have a strict set of requirements for worshippers to enter since they would literally be dealing with, protecting and studying a god directly.

Scholars of Phantasia have massive beef with Memento Phantasia ( also known as Mythus x Reader denomination) since these people like to mess with dreams and use them as reference to fuck up the order and truth in real life.

There are way more Aeons I have yet to explore but there’s also Akivili (Aeon of the Trailblaze) x Reader which is a bit tricky. Sleep and dreams are inherently against Akivili’s path to explore and connect with the unknown in real life but at the same time, dreams are an infinite source of new places and ideas to explore.

Imagine if they’re just called the Travelers and since not much lore is on the actual ones from Genshin is out yet, our dear tabibitos are actually from that denomination-

Does aeon of dreams reader has emanators? I think someone inspired by the sandman myth would be pretty cool

AEON OF DREAMS! READER HEADCANNONS

Yes! Their worshippers in general are called Dreamers or Those that Enter the Majesty’s Domain.

Their missionaries/emanators are called Sleepwalkers. Their churches are called Chambers/Domains of Fantasies and the main one is named after their resting place “The Cradle”

Note: It’s important to distinguish between the Sleepwalkers that are completely loyal to Aeon of Dreams! Reader alone and their eternal sleep, to those that believe they should be awoken and also believe in Nanook.

There are also the extremists that force other people into perma sleep called the Heralds of the Sleeping Death. Similar to the Sandman myth but imagine an army of people throwing dust that instantly puts you into a siesta . . . except that early afternoon of yours lasts for an eternity.

There are also like - whole ass denominations that are all just based on a ship with another Aeon.

Yaoshi x Reader ? That’s the Abundant Trance / Trance in Abundance denomination that aside from vehemently shipping the two believe that sleep is the best medicine.

Qilipoth x Reader ? The Preservation of the Fantasy denomination . They believe in cryogenesis to preserve one’s sleeping state to forever dream.

IX x Reader? You think that real life is worthless and just want to sleep forever and indulge the dreams you can actually control? Join the club kid. It’s called the Void in Reality, Infinity in Dormancy.

and ofc Nanook x Reader. Sleepwalkers turned Anti Sleep Legion turned Anti Matter Legion. There are pretty chill ones that just don’t like sleep at all and are interested in ways to keep themselves awake as much as possible. But most of them believe that sleep is a cage they need to help other people to be liberated from.

And those aren’t even the extreme members that are all like “cool imma destroy everything and myself so that my two gods can live happily ever after. im gonna sleep eternally in the afterlife anyways. byeee-“

if people are interested ill edit in all the denominations based on ships lol but for now have those (im specifically hoping to write the erudition/hunt x reader denominations cause those would be interesting imo)

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

[nqmonarch]

Dream AU

I have asks and dw I'm doing them, just had random brainrot so we posting this chicken scratch first

HSR but when you dream you enter their world and you're like wow!!! Sick dream! And they're like where the fuck did this random ass person come from?

Called dream AU cause you teleport there in your dreams, originally was going to be self aware but I think this works better.

Something about Aeons x Reader just got me in SHAMBLES.

Using he/him pronouns for Nanook

Part 2 is out

I'd like to imagine the first time you dream that you're in HSR you appear in front of an Aeon. Not just any Aeon but Nanook. As the Antimatter Legion launches its attack on the Herta Space Station, Nanook doesn't feel the need to pay much attention. Oh there was a person with a Stellaron in them, that was unique. Nanook didn't spare them more than a glance though, they'd be destroyed soon anyway.

Then, another interesting anomaly appears. Another human, in front of him, not even floating through the space but walking through it as if it was their own backyard. A nuisance, one deliberately far away from the rest of the anti matter legion. Had you tried to escape? It didn't matter. With a simple blink you would be gone.

Yet even as he felt destruction reach out to you, it had no effect, you remained perfectly unharmed albeit confused. Then your eyes landed on him, and excitement filled your face. Excitement? You moved faster, small legs carrying you toward Nanook. Humans were pitifully small, like insects only existing to infect the world. It was his duty to remove the world of them.

Yet with all the excitement you held and the care toward a being that had just tried to destroy you, it made him pause for a moment to ponder if he was to destroy you too. Even in your most miserable moments would you be able to shine as brightly? The thought didn't stay for long, after all everything in this universe was a mistake. The universe itself should've never have been created and everything in it was as putrid as the next, only choosing to hide behind rosy colors.

Nanook nonchalantly brushed his hand to the side, hitting you with it, yet the moment it touched you his hand was unable to move any further. His gaze lowered again, resting on you. You seemed entirely undisturbed and was still looking at him in awe and wonder. He doubted you were another Aeon, you had no presence at all-- but you weren't effected by his.

Eyes full of molten lava narrowed as they focused in on you. For once, lacking the intent to harm he moved his hand to push you slightly to the side. You moved, stumbling a bit. Nanook's heart leapt a beat.

Oh. Oh. Civilization only brought war with it, as everything within the universe was a mistake. But perhaps, this was the universe's sole purpose, this being was supposed to exist. The notion sickened him, it went against his entire core. The creation of the universe was a mistake thus it must all be destroyed, it never should've happened. Maybe, another universe was supposed to be created and you were from that. A being that shouldn't and couldn't be destroyed, this was the only possibility. An anomaly in the world of mistakes.

Nanook couldn't offer to protect you, all he knew was to destroy. But he had to say something. This universe still had to be destroyed to the point nothing remained and neither Terminus nor Oroboros would have claim to it. You had to leave, before the end tried to swallow you whole. As the one being that shouldn't be destroyed he had to stop it from happening to you. Yet as he looked back nothing remained.

...So it seems you weren't entirely powerless. That was good, but it would make it more difficult for Nanook. He had to find you again, he was already racing against time.

You woke up feeling unusually tired. Must've not gotten a good night's rest, you mused to yourself. Yet you'd had a sick dream! A smile rose to your face at the thought. You'd met Nanook, the sick ass dude from Honkai Star Rail! Man, the majesty of Aeons was still portrayed in your dreams Hoyoverse's design team did such a good job! You felt so small next to him, well you were, you were about the size of his hand.

That didn't matter now though, you had work/school to get to! Places to go, people to see, things to get done! You wanted to go back to sleep.

Unfortunately, you didn't go back to sleep but on the bright side you persevered through the day! So, dragging your limbs behind you, you headed back to bed hoping to get a more restful sleep.

When you woke up, you found yourself surrounded by snow. It surrounded you like a fluffy blanket and muffled the noise around you, even with the snow you could still hear the sound of yelling. Oh neat, another hyper realistic dream. For some reason you'd always known when your dreams were dreams and you tended to dream of whatever your newest fictional obsession was.

It was nice until it wasn't. You supposed that you must've spent too much time dreaming up the fictional characters to the point you forget their original personalities. They would tend to act weird as you continued dreaming about them, which would lead you to drop the series entirely. It'd happened an unfortunate amount of times.

Hopefully, something similar wouldn't happen this time. You enjoyed these kinds of dreams where you could just observe the beauty of fiction.

You pushed yourself up from the snow, feeling your hand and feet sink slightly in the snow from the pressure you applied. If this followed the same pattern as the last dream then you were at Jarilo-VI. But where were you? There wasn't any discernible structure around you, there weren't even any fragmentum monsters. It was just snow.

Well at least you weren't able to die in your dreams. You knew that one from experience, although the experience of getting set on fire wasn't exactly pleasant. Actually it was kind of traumatizing even though it was a dream.

That being said getting dream hypothermia didn't seem pleasant so you began to wander in hopes that you would soon come across something.

To be continued when I figure out which Jarilo-VI character I want to write.

[sqgeism]

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 kiss me beneath the milky twilight ! | amphoreus men x gender neutral reader

💌 — ; your first kiss with amphoreus men :)

love mail — short ? ish ? i'm rly like 5050 on it idk whats short anymkre ( ﾟ□ﾟ) hiiii guys ! :D im rly curious which hsr character reminds u of me (totally stolen from airi) LOL this was kind of fun i love intimacy its cute (；^ω^)

anaxa is a bit of a romantic at heart, even if the cold glares and scary aura act as if otherwise. he doesn't know why people want to explain it, he loves you. why would he be cruel if his heart only beats for you? common sense, he thinks.

and you can feel just how fast his heart is beating as you lay on top of him, under the stars and anaxa's back on the grass, stargazing in the silence of the night. words aren't exchanged because you two have come to realize that not every silence needs to be filled, just appreciated. it isn't every day that the world is quiet enough to hear anaxa's soft breaths, some sort of proof he's real. that he's still alive to enjoy this moment. and he can't be more thankful to the gods he doesn't believe in for the kindness he's always cursed them for never having.

"dove?" he calls to you, bringing his hand to your cheek and bringing you up closer to his face. "yes, anaxagoras?" cursed heart, fluttering at the little giggle that comes with you saying his name. you say it so.. fondly, no one could ever compare.

the night has been perfect, your existence has consumed his every thought, and it's made him think about only one thing; "i need to kiss them."

enough time has passed, right? it's been a couple of months, he feels confident, but also hoping that the ground under him would swallow him whole.

all he needs is an indication you also want this, that you've been yearning for his lips the way he's dreamed about yours every night. (pleasedon'tthinkhe'sweird)

while stuck in his train of thought, he's realizing now that he's just been staring at you. smiling all sweetly— which makes this worst—cause you look so pure while his thoughts are far from innocent.

"would.. it be too crude to.. tell you that i want you? that.." you need to stop looking at him like that, with those eyes that capture his attention every time. "that i want you.. to kiss me. kiss me till i grow sick from the taste of you."

and you do, pressing your lips against his as he can only smirk. his request was a trick hypothetical, he'll never want to stop. he's obsessed, you have to deal with him now.

mydei was celebrating your fourth month together, yes he's the type of guy to celebrate monthly anniversaries... sue him for being in love... but yes. four months isn't a lot of time but phainon's been asking about first kisses, which has YET to happen but there's really no rush. he doesn't wanna force anything you're not yet ready for, putting into consideration it's something so big. the first kiss has to be special, which is why he's in the process of making you an entire full course meal of your favorite dishes. all while you sit and look gorgeous by the counter, watching him like he's doing the most attractive thing a man can do. all while in a soft pink apron and his hair tied up since he thinks it gets into the food sometimes which is his worst fear.

what was he thinking again? right... right! not burning his hand. completely lost his train of thought after you complimented how nice he looked at this very moment. he could swear you had a certain look in your eyes, hungry for something entirely unrelated to food. may the aeon's forsake his heart for having it stutter like this. but also don't make it stop, he loves it, a bit too much.

when dinner is served, mydei is sure to tend to your every need. want more salt? he's up to get the shaker. water? refilled the pitcher to the very top as well as your glass. "mydei, i'll just get some tissue from the kitche—" he's already up, and you wanna beat him to it, but he's already stopping your path with the biggest smile. "sweetheart, why are you standing?" he chuckles, and you fake a little pout. "i wanna get it on my own. don't wanna have you do everything."

"if i'm not doing everything for you, i'm not doing things right." he counters while his hands travel to your waist, humming a little murmur of your name. "so perfect. just sit, i'll get them for you."

matching his advances, your arms quietly move to his shoulders, leaning into him as you usually do. "come on, let me do at least one thing for you."

this is starting to sound like it's not just about tissues. "please, just.. one thing."

are you supposed to be leaning into each others lips when you're asking for tissues? probably not. but mydei doesn't want to let this moment slip, he sees your slight hesitation, which if it was up to him he would've totally just kissed that doubt out of you. but he needs to hear the verbal confirmation. a reassurance that he's doing this right. "there are possibilities wherein this moment passes me without ever knowing what your lips feel against mine. please, please indulge in me for just a moment."

it lasted far longer than a moment. <3

phainon is a bit too much for a flirt to not get to the closest thing to a first kiss. cheek kisses is his favorite form of affection at the moment.. gets him all weak in the knees. he loves seeing you lean in for one and he just asks for another one till he's satisfied. greedy, yes. does he care? not really.

in a flowerfield of just the two of you and the prettiest floral scenery, it's a shot straight out of a movie. you're sat next to phainon, putting little flowers in his hair as he gets to admire you, a perfectly fair trade. you get to love the flowers, he gets to love you. all he ever needs to be honest.

"how did i ever get so lucky?" he sighs dramatically, pulling you closer by the waist as you snicker at his theatrics. "your soul is as beautiful as this field. i'm telling you, angel. if you stay any longer then the aeon's might try to take you away from me." his words have never failed to make you feel valued, and it's but a fraction of how he truly feels about you. he knows he will never be able to put everything into mere words, you deserve so much more than just that.

"phai, please. any sweeter and bees will start to use you for honey." and there it is, one of the many things phainon adores about you. just.. effortlessly matching him. his humor, aesthetics, lifestyle, passion.. all those things, you've perfectly matched his own. "i can take a few stings."

because it felt right, he kisses your cheek a couple of times, making you giggle and jokingly try to push him away, even if your strength is basically at zero and almost pulling him closer.

when he's finished, the blue haired hero points at his lips and smirks. "wanna return the favor, baby? right here is perfect."

it isn't the first time he's made this joke, and it probably won't be the last, but for once you feel.. ready. like it's right.

so when you close the gap between your lips and his, phainon absolutely malfunctions for a second. before locking in and kissing you with gentle fervor, one hand barely on your cheek because he wants to reassure you that you're free to pull away.

and when you don't, he's on cloud 9 the whole time. takes you into his arms and you both fall into the flowers, not breaking the kiss for a moment as laughter and lips crashing against one another fill the air.

© sqgeism or wtv (^_^;)

[genshinluvr]

Amphoreus Amnesia

Pairings: Various HSR Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You suddenly vanish off the face of the universe with no trace for months. One day, the Astral Express receives a message from someone from another world, Amphoreus.

Note: I'm, like, still behind on HSR quests, so the newly added characters (Jiaoqiu, Moze, Mydei, Phainon, and Anaxa) will be out of character since I didn't meet some of them, nor have I interacted with them as much as I have with others. I'm going to be posting new fanfics based on the options from the poll from a while ago. The next fanfic that will be posted/updated is the LADS fanfic because it came in third place. My Discord server has been officially open for a little over a week now, but the link has expired. New Discord server links will be linked at the end of the fic. Anyway, I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (also Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Newly added characters will be ooc due to being behind on HSR quests, slight yandere Sunday?

Word Count: 8.3k

It’s been seven months. Seven months since you went missing, and no one has heard a single thing from you. No one— from the Herta Space Station to Jarilo-VI to the Xianzhou Luofu to Penacony— has given the Astral Express crew any updates on your whereabouts. There aren’t any sightings of you despite there being a search party working tirelessly to find you. Heck, even the Aeon of Destruction can’t get a hold of you, and it’s driving everyone crazy. The Astral Express remains in Penacony, assuming you’re probably lost in the Dreamscape, like how you were when you first set foot on the Planet of Festivities. But much to everyone’s dismay, there have been no sightings whatsoever.

The Astral Express crew stands before Sunday, Aventurine, Robin, Boothill, and Gallagher, all waiting to hear the possible updates on your whereabouts.

Sunday shakes his head, sighing. “I’m sorry, but there have not been any sightings of [Y/N], Mr. Yang. We have done everything we can to search for them, but it’s like they have disappeared without a trace.”

“Please tell me this isn’t like the similar incident a while back when it was [Y/N]’s first time visiting Penacony,” Aventurine sighs, rubbing his temples. “You all need to put them on a leash if that’s the case.”

Dan Heng, Caelus, and March glare at Aventurine in response to his comment. If only that were the case, because when that happened a few months prior, you were found hours later, safe and sound. But it’s been seven months. Seven. Months. 

Gallagher glares at Aventurine and elbows him in the ribs, causing the blond man to grunt. “I’m sorry, Aventurine, but are you new here? The Astral Express crew has requested us to search for [Y/N] for seven months. [Y/N]’s been missing way longer compared to the first incident.”

Before Aventurine can retort, Dr. Ratio approaches from behind and smacks him upside the head. Aventurine’s head snaps in Dr. Ratio’s direction, rubbing the back of his head while scowling at him. Dan Heng sighs, shaking his head. 

Dr. Ratio crosses his arms over his chest. “Have you tried contacting the Aeon of Destruction about [Y/N]’s whereabouts? They seem rather…” Dr. Ratio trails off, looking around Penacony as if trying to find the right word to describe your and Nanook’s relationship, “close with one another.”

Welt sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose before explaining to Dr. Ratio that your and Nanook’s bond is special. Not special in the sense that an Aeon is attached to a human from another dimension, but special to the point where you two can communicate and meet each other through dreams. Caelus furrows his eyebrows. He could’ve sworn that the relationship between you and Nanook had been explained plenty of times before. 

“The Aeon of Destruction somehow channels his power to bring someone from another fucking dimension to our world is pretty damn impressive,” Boothill mutters, stroking his chin. “Never knew that was possible, but if you really want something or someone, anything is possible.”

Everyone makes their way back to The Reverie, now standing in the lobby of the hotel. As the Astral Express crew is getting ready to return to the Astral Express, a large group of familiar faces approaches.

“General Jing Yuan, what brings you here?” Dan Heng asks, trading looks with Caelus.

Jing Yuan smiles at Dan Heng and props his hands on his hips. The General subconsciously scans the crowd, searching for a familiar face. The very same face that suddenly disappeared off the face of the universe without a trace. Much to his dismay, the General does not see the face he yearns to see again after so long. After not receiving a response from the General of the Xianzhou Luofu, Dan Heng clears his throat. 

Jing Yuan blinks and rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “I, and the others, are here to inform you all that we have yet to find [Y/N],” Jing Yuan replies, his smile slipping off. 

“And judging by the look on your faces, none of you has been successful with the search either?” Blade asks, crossing his arms over his chest while scanning the hotel lobby. 

Welt shakes his head. With the large crowd gathering where the Astral Express crew is standing, guests at The Reverie Hotel can’t help but stare with curiosity. A large crowd of people from outside the Planet of Festivities, with members of The Family among the crowd, is bound to draw mass attention. 

“Let’s talk on the Astral Express. With matters like this, we don’t want to draw unwanted attention.” Welt says, motioning everyone to follow.

On the Astral Express, everyone gathers in the Parlor Car, staring at the large hologram of the maps the Astral Express crew has visited. The same place you could have disappeared to, but failed to be traced in any of the locations.

“Have any of you tried reaching out to Nanook by chance? The Aeon of Destruction is linked to [Y/N],” Luocha mutters, never taking his eyes off the hologram map for a second.

Caelus rolls his eyes. “The only person who can get in touch with Nanook is [Y/N]. Aside from that, none of us,” Caelus gestures to him and the other Astral Express members, “has a way to reach out to the Aeon.”

Moze rolls his eyes and pinches his glabella, annoyed with the outcome of the situation. “Great, so we’re at another dead end.”

The Shadow Guard throws himself on the nearest chair and buries his face into the palm of his hands. While Moze knew you for a short period of time, your presence grew on him, and Moze grew quite fond of you (even though he doesn’t want to admit it). For you to suddenly disappear without a trace for seven, almost eight, months feels suspicious. You didn’t even bring your phone with you, which is strange because Moze could’ve sworn that your screen time is past twelve hours a day. 

“I will do everything in my power to find [Y/N] and bring them back safe,” Argenti says, placing his hand over his heart. 

Sampo huffs, plopping down on the couch. “Not if I find my gumdrop first! I’m sure [Y/N] would rather have me save them than someone in a full suit of armor. What are you? Their knight in shining armor?” Sampo mutters, looking off to the side while pouting.

Argenti raises his eyebrows at Sampo’s comment, the corner of his lips curving up with amusement. Clearly, anyone with eyes can see that Argenti is, in fact, your knight in shining armor. There’s no denying it because he is the only one in full armor while others wear some armor in other parts of their bodies as an accessory. 

“We can’t just sit here and do nothing. If we give up now, who knows what could happen to [Y/N] the longer we stall,” Gepard says, hands balled into tight fists. “I’m sure they’re somewhere out there. We can’t give up.”

Luka holds his hands up, raising his eyebrows at Gepard’s outburst. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Who’s saying that we’re giving up? I've got all the time in the world to look for [Y/N]. In fact, the longer this drags out, the more motivated I feel to keep on pushing,” Luka says, jumping in one spot while stretching his shoulders. 

While the men converse with each other and plan out the next step, Jiaoqiu's ears perk up when hearing something strange. The muttering around him makes it nearly impossible for Jiaoqiu to pinpoint where this strange noise is coming from. The foxian healer closes his eyes and listens closely, drowning out the chatter around him. There’s a beeping sound coming from somewhere in the Parlor Car.

“Does anyone else hear that beeping noise, or am I going crazy?” Jiaoqiu speaks up, grabbing the other’s attention.

Everyone in the Parlor Car goes silent, trying to hear what Jiaoqiu is hearing. The longer everyone sits in silence, the louder the beeping becomes for Jiaoqiu. The foxian healer gets up from his seat and slowly walks to where the beeping is coming from, his ears perked up, twitching each time the beeping goes off. 

“You have an interstellar message. Please check it promptly,” says the system.

March peeks from Welt’s shoulders, confused. “Interstellar message? Who could it be from?” March mutters, crossing her arms over her chest as she watches the older man tap on the screen. 

Almost immediately, a hologram of the sender of the interstellar message materializes before everyone. The man, muscular with shoulder-length ombre blond and red hair, crosses his arms over his chest, staring—no, glaring—at everyone in the Astral Express. The man doesn’t say anything, but continues to glare at whoever his eyes land on.

The blond man clears his throat. “Is this the Astral Express?” He asks, his deep voice filling the silence of the Astral Express.

Welt nods. “Yes, this is the Astral Express. May I ask who I am speaking to?” Welt asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I am the Crown Prince of Kremnos, Mydeimos, but you can all call me Mydei. Several months ago, the world of Amphoreus received a distress signal about a missing person who goes by the name of [Y/N].” Mydei says, letting his arms fall to his side.

After hearing the mention of your name, everyone in the room immediately straightens up and walks over to where the hologram of Mydei stands. From the other side of the hologram stands the glorious Crown Prince of Kremnos, who tries to keep his composure while ignoring the bickering in the background. Mydei’s yellow eyes scan every person who shows up on the hologram.

“We should demand a reward for finding this missing person!” The white-haired man loudly whispers from behind Mydei.

The greenish-gray-haired man scoffs in response. “Are you an idiot? Who would demand such a thing after discovering—”

Mydei’s head snaps in the duo’s direction, shutting them up immediately. Mydei scowls at them, as if telling them to shut the hell up and let him speak to the people on the hologram. Mydei takes a deep breath and turns back to the Astral Express crew (and others), fixing his composure.

“Helloooo? What were you going to say about [Y/N] and the distress signal?” Sampo asks, waving his hands to grab the Crown Prince’s attention.

Gepard sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose while shaking his head. “Have you ever thought of keeping your mouth shut? Let Mr. Yang speak to the Crown Prince of Kremnos.” Gepard mutters, glaring at Sampo from behind his hands.

Sampo laughs and gives Gepard and the other men on the Astral Express an apologetic smile before gesturing for Welt to take over. Welt sighs, turns back to the hologram of Mydei, and nods to the Crown Prince to continue where he left off. Mydei goes into detail about finding you in Amphoreus, heavily injured and unconscious, barely hanging onto life. 

Caelus’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull. “What do you mean [Y/N] is in Amphoreus!? How did they end up over there?! We have yet to set foot in your world!” Caelus exclaims, running his hands through his hair. 

The white-haired man pops up on the hologram beside Mydei. “That’s a mystery for us, too! Imagine how confused we were when we saw an outsider, who fit the missing person’s description, in our world.”

An arm appears out of nowhere on the hologram, grabbing the white-haired man by the ears. “Dammit, Phainon. Don’t butt into conversations that has nothing to do with you,” a mysterious voice hisses, yanking Phainon out of view.

“But Anaxa!” Phainon whines, swatting at the arm while being dragged out of view.

Mydei rubs his temples, sighing and shaking his head. The Crown Prince apologizes to Welt before proceeding where he had left off before being interrupted by Phainon and Anaxa. 

“If you wish to see [Y/N], you are welcome to do so. That is why I reached out to the Astral Express, because I know you all have tirelessly searched the cosmos for them. However, there is an issue…” Mydei trails off.

Dan Heng stares at Mydei, fists clenched at his side. “What is the issue aside from [Y/N] being heavily injured?”

Phainon peeks from Mydei’s shoulders. “You’ll have to see for yourselves. It’s best to be here in person when given more information on their condition,” Phainon says before disappearing.

And with that, the communication between the Crown Prince and the Astral Express ends there. Gallagher sighs, crossing his arms. “The Aeon of Destruction is not going to like this if we ever get in touch,” Gallagher mutters, shaking his head.

Gallagher is, in fact, correct. The moment you open your eyes and find yourself in a strange place, floating before a giant being—a handsome giant being— you nearly have a panic attack. Sure, the giant white-haired being is handsome and shirtless, but seeing someone that huge is certainly a sight to behold. 

The giant person suddenly disappears and is now standing before you as a regular-sized human. What is a regular-sized? He’s over 193 cm, practically towering over you like a skyscraper. His tough demeanor crumbles as he pulls you into his arms, letting out shaky breaths.

“You’re okay, little one. I’m so glad to see that you’re okay,” the white-haired man whispers into your hair, caressing your head.

You subconsciously wrap your arms around his waist, melting into his warm embrace. You can’t find the words to describe how you feel. The stars around you glimmer, casting a gentle glow. Everything feels so familiar, and yet, you don’t remember this person standing before you. You pull away from the hug, staring up at him, wordlessly.

The man cups your face in his large hands, looking deep into your eyes. “Little one, is there something wrong? Say something,” he pleads, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb.

You continue to stare at the man, breathless. He looks and feels so familiar, and yet you don’t remember his name or the memories you two once shared before regaining your consciousness.

“Who are you?” You whisper.

Hearing your question causes the world around you and this mysterious man to shake and crumble. You look around, terrified of what’s happening. The man in front of you quickly regains his composure, trying to remain cool, calm, and collected for you. 

The man reaches for your hand and gently squeezes it. He then pulls your hand towards his face and presses a delicate kiss on your knuckles. “My name is Nanook. I am the Aeon of Destruction,” he says, his eyes never leaving your face. 

“Nanook…” you whisper, staring at him with awe.

The universe around you starts to fade along with Nanook. You look at Nanook, panicked. Nanook sighs, shaking his head. As the world around you fades, you start to hear voices around you. It’s like you’re underwater; the voices are muffled but gradually becoming louder as you regain consciousness. 

“Dear Aeons! They look horrendous!” Someone gasps in horror, startling you awake.

The room goes silent.

“Keep your voices down, dammit! Look what you did! You scared them before they could even fully regain their consciousness!” Another person, with a heavy southern accent, hisses with a smack accompanying the voice. 

You crack your eyes open, flinching and squinting when the ceiling lights blind you. You cover your eyes for a moment, trying to adjust to the brightness. Once you have adjusted to the brightness of the room you’re in, you can’t help but be startled when you’re met with multiple eyes on you, staring at you with anticipation. 

The redhead in full armor sighs, placing his hand over his chest. “Oh, thank Idrila, you’re okay,” the man says, beginning to walk towards you, only for a blond man (also in armor) to stop him by grabbing his shoulder.

“Mx. [Y/N], how are you feeling?” The man with wings for ears—wait, he does have human ears too… are the wings real?— asks, approaching your bed with a man with long blond hair.

You stare at each man in the room, not saying a word. They all trade looks, worried that the injuries you have sustained may have a greater impact than anticipated. The man with long blond hair stands over you, reassuring you that he’s going to check up on you after getting a nod of approval from the Crown Prince.

“Everything seems fine from what I’m seeing,” the blond man murmurs.

A tall man with long white hair turns to the Crown Prince, crossing his arms over his chest. “This Phainon person mentioned wanting to talk about [Y/N]’s condition in person. What is it that you want to discuss with us, Mydei?”

The Crown Prince opens his mouth to respond, only to close it before he could get a single word out. Mydei turns to you, giving you a fake smile. “We will be right back,” he says, giving the guests a look and gesturing for them to leave the room.

Confused, everyone slowly piles out of the room, muttering under their breath. The man with long blond hair soon follows the others once the majority of them have left the room. You watch the door close, now alone with your own thoughts. These men seem to know you, but you don’t know them. Or do you? You don’t have any recollection of any of these men, but this strange feeling in your chest feels unbearable. Out of all the injuries you have sustained, the one that hurts the most is your head. You subconsciously reach the back of your head, feeling the bandages wrapped around your head. The gauze feels thick and hard under your touch. You inspect your body, staring at every bandage, gauze, and cast hugging your body.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY LOST THEIR MEMORY?!” Someone bellow from the other side of the door.

You shrink back into the bed, only to hit the back of your head against the bed frame. You groan, clutching your head, closing your eyes. Gentle yet calloused hands cover your hand, making you peek from one eye while continuing to clutch your head.

“Don’t hurt yourself, now, little one,” Nanook murmurs, kneeling beside the bed.

You stare at Nanook with wide eyes, questioning how he managed to enter your room without being seen by the others outside the door. Before you can say anything, the door opens and the men file into the room, only to stop when they see Nanook beside you.

The foxian man crosses his arms over his chest, sighing. “See, I told you all that I wasn’t hallucinating.”

The blond-haired man with a fedora chuckles, propping his hands on his hips. “It’s good to see you again, Aeon of Destruction. Who knew that Mx. [Y/N] can summon you just like that?” the blond man chuckles.

Nanook glares at the group of men in front of you and proceeds to tuck your hair behind your ear, eyeing every part of you with concern. 

You clear your throat, eyes drifting over to the Crown Prince. “How long have I been out for?” You ask, your voice hoarse. 

“You’ve been unconscious for four months. You’re very fortunate that you didn’t succumb to your injuries,” Mydei says, crossing his arms over his chest. 

The gray-haired man narrows his eyes at the Crown Prince. “You’re telling me that [Y/N] has been in Amphoreus for four out of the seven months they were declared missing? And you didn’t inform us about this?” 

“Moze, I understand you’re frustrated with the situation, but it’s best to calm down—”

The man with long, dark hair shakes his head. “I agree with Moze, Dr. Ratio. The search for [Y/N] could’ve been cut short if we were informed of [Y/N]’s conditions and whereabouts three months ago.”

You press your lips into a thin line, unsure what to say, nor do you want to interfere with whatever is happening. From what you have gathered, you went missing for seven months and were in Amphoreus the entire time. You’re injured, but got lucky and didn’t die. Either you were truly lucky, or it’s a cruel fate because now you have to live to recover from these injuries, not only that, but you lost your memory.

A month later, you’re sitting in the hospital garden, still in Amphoreus. Of course, you’re not alone— these men refuse to let you be alone in another world. Within a month, you’re reintroduced to the eighteen (twenty-one if you count Anaxa, Phainon, and Mydei) men you once knew before your amnesia. They’re nothing but sweet and will spoil you with every chance they get.

Sometimes, when you’re in need of a girl friend to chat with, March and Himeko (who also had to reintroduce themselves to you) would spend time with you. They would tell you everything you have forgotten about, and what has happened within the seven months you have vanished off the face of the universe. You can’t help but feel loved after hearing how much people cared about you despite not being your family. Speaking of your family… what happened to them? You’re brought out of your thoughts when someone waves their hand in front of your face, trying to grab your attention after you have zoned out.

“I brought you lunch! I heard it’s a local specialty on Amphoreus,” Caelus says, plopping down in front of you and placing the plate on your lap. 

You smile at Caelus. “Thank you for bringing me lunch, Caelus. I feel bad for having you guys run around to bring me things while I’m sitting,” you mutter, grabbing the silver cutlery. 

Caelus smiles and kisses the side of your head without thinking, causing you to freeze momentarily before quickly regaining your composure. You peek from the corner of your eyes to see Caelus’s reaction, but he continues to dig into his food and eat like nothing happened. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, [Y/N]? You haven’t been acting like yourself,” Dan Heng says, entering the garden with his lunch in his hands. “We’re all worried about you.”

You smile at Dan Heng and nod wordlessly. Caelus’s actions threw you off, but it’s not like you didn’t like it. It felt familiar for some reason, as if he had done this plenty of times before you went missing and lost your memory. What are you to these men?

You proceed to eat the lunch Caelus brought to you, lost in your thoughts. While eating and zoning out, someone reaches towards you and wipes the corner of your lips, pulling you out of your head. You lock eyes with Sampo, who grins at you as a result. Your face heats up, and you quickly look away, unsure of how to process what has happened. Sampo snickers at your reaction before plopping down beside you, sandwiching you between him and Caelus.

“What’s keeping that pretty head of yours occupied, gumdrop?” Sampo asks, nudging your side before scarfing down his lunch.

You shake your head. “It’s nothing. I’m just zoning out as per usual. You know how I am,” you joke. “I think. I don’t even know who I am or what I’m like before this freak accident.” You mutter, shoulders slumping after realization hits you.

The men trade looks, their hearts sinking into the pits of their stomachs. It’s been a month since they have reunited with you in Amphoreus since your sudden disappearance, only to find out that you sustained life-threatening injuries along with having amnesia. It’s a long road to recovery, but thanks to Amphoreus’s technology, Luocha and Jiaoqiu’s medical knowledge and skills, your healing journey was shortened. 

Although most of your injuries have healed, your memories have yet to be restored. So, every man has decided to make it their mission to get you to fall in love with them again! While you and they aren’t exclusively dating—well, with Nanook, that’s a different story— they want to get you to fall in love with them again, little by little.

It started just fine at the beginning of the new month, but then they realized that it was taking way too long, and some people (Sampo, Caelus, Argenti, etc.) aren’t nearly as patient as the others (Mr Yang, Jing Yuan, Sunday, etc.). While that is happening, Nanook’s been feeding you small information about how you end up in another dimension. Though Nanook didn’t outright say that he brought you to his dimension because he took a liking to you, he didn’t want to scare you off and potentially break the bond you two have with each other, for who knows how long you’ve been in their dimension.

As for the men who occupy the world you and the others are currently in, they have been silently watching you from a distance. However, Phainon has been more than eager to befriend and get to know you more. He’s the sweetest and most welcoming person on Amphoreus. Despite not knowing each other much, he tries to make you feel comfortable and would banter with you at every chance he gets. Mydei, on the other hand, has been trying to keep it professional, but would sometimes let his demeanor slip and spend time with you after he forces the other men to leave your temporary room. Mydei has been telling you tales of his battles and exploration, and is incredibly proud of his achievements. 

As for Anaxa… he’s a little bit aloof in your opinion, mainly because you don’t know him well enough. On days when you don’t have visitors (incredibly rare, but there are days when the men aren’t allowed to spend time with you for over two hours), Anaxa would pop by your room and teach you about Amphoreus, going on tangents about philosophy and other things your mind cannot comprehend at the moment (because he pops by at the ass crack of dawn while you’re still sleeping, peering over you and watching you sleep until you wake up because you can feel his eyes burning holes into your head).

“What the— Anaxa!? What are you doing here? The sun’s not even up yet!” You whisper loudly, rubbing your eyes with your knuckles.

Anaxa holds up a book thick enough to knock someone out with one hit. “Would you like to hear more reasons why I challenge the prophecy?” Anaxa asks, peeking from the top of the book.

You and Anaxa stare at each other in the darkness, not saying a word. Sometimes you forget that whenever Anaxa goes on one of his tangents, you tend to fall asleep, but Anaxa doesn’t mind one bit because he gets to talk to someone. Even if they’re knocked out asleep, then again, he will catch you up to speed on what you missed out on after falling asleep. It’s kind of cute. You let out a long sigh, turning on your side and hugging the extra pillow to your chest. 

“What the hell, sure.” You shrug. 

Anaxa’s eyes light up as he pulls up a seat beside your bed before starting.

Gepard kneels before you, grabbing your unoccupied hand. “How’s your head feeling?” He asks softly, massaging your knuckles while staring at you intently.

You smile at Gepard, squeezing his hand in return. “My head’s feeling okay, I guess. It’s extremely frustrating that I lost my memories and can’t do anything about it,” you reply, smiling at Gepard ruefully. 

Boothill struts up to you and Gepard, sitting on the chair's armrest. “I think if we hit you on the back of your head just as hard as you hit your head eight months ago, maybe you can get your memories back!” Boothill smiles, crossing his arms over his chest, looking smug.

You stare at Boothill, mouth agape. Gallagher, Sunday, Mr. Yang, Blade, Mydei, Anaxa, Dan Heng, Luocha, and Jiaoqiu all sigh simultaneously, shaking their heads in disapproval. You rub the back of your head, unsure how to respond to Boothill’s suggestion. 

Luocha rubs the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. “Boothill, that’s not how it works. Giving [Y/N] another head injury will not recover all of their memories,” Luocha mutters, giving the Galaxy Ranger the side eye.

Before you can say something, someone places their hands on your shoulders, startling you. You look up to see Nanook standing behind you, glaring at Boothill. Ah, he probably heard Boothill’s suggestion. Nanook grabs you by the waist and throws you over his shoulders. The men around you grumble with protests, crossing their arms over their chest while glaring at the Aeon of Destruction.

“Wait, Nanook, I’m still eating.” You protest, peeking from Nanook’s shoulders. “Put me down, I want to finish my lunch.” You pat the Aeon’s shoulders, trying to get the man to put you down. 

Nanook wordlessly hands you a cup of Immortal’s Delight. You stop what you’re doing and stare at the sweet drink in his hands before grabbing it. You take a sip and hum happily, the sweetness flooding your taste buds.

Luka looks away, his face almost as red as Argenti’s hair. “Hey, I don’t know if you’re aware of the length of the hospital gown, but…” he trails off, the redness of his face traveling up to the tip of his ears. 

Your eyes widen and your hand shoots up to cover your exposed ass. It’s not like you’re completely naked underneath the hospital gown, but you didn’t want anyone to see your underwear! You unintentionally flashed everyone in the garden, good heavens. Nanook immediately places both hands on your butt, covering your underwear from everyone’s sight while glaring at every person. 

Gallagher huffs out a laugh, leans back in his seat, and crosses his arms over his chest. “Why are you looking at us like it’s our fault that we see [Y/N]’s underwear? You’re the one who lifted and tossed them over your shoulders,” Gallagher shakes his head.

Nanook rolls his eyes and turns around, walking towards the building with you draping over his shoulders, slurping down the Immortal’s Delight without a care in the world. Once you and Nanook are out of earshot, Argenti stands up and starts trailing after the two of you. 

Aventurine raises his eyebrows. “Uh, where are you going, Argenti?” Aventurine calls out to the redhead.

Argenti turns around, crossing his arms over his chest. “Following after [Y/N] and Nanook, what does it look like? I refuse to let them have some alone time while we sit to the side,” Argenti replies.

Argenti turns around before continuing to follow after you and the Aeon, making sure not to get too close or else he’ll face Nanook’s wrath for trying to cockblock. After hearing Argenti’s response, the others immediately leave their spots (with their food and drinks) and follow Argenti.

Another month goes by, and there’s finally some progress with your memories gradually recovering. As days go by, bits and pieces of your memories will hit you randomly throughout the day. Sometimes these memories from however long ago would hit you while you’re sleeping, making you assume it was just a dream, when, in fact, it was not a dream at all.

“I had a dream where I got lost in Penacony and had to be saved by Gallagher,” you passively mentioned at breakfast one day.

Mr. Yang clears his throat. “That wasn’t a dream, sweetheart. It happened nine months ago,” Mr. Yang replies, no longer eating his breakfast. 

You stare at the older man, mouth agape. Wait, huh?! The people sitting around you all nod in response to your questioning look. 

You shake your head and wave your hand in front of you, still trying to process the information that your dream was actually reality, but it happened before your disappearance. “Wait, so that wasn’t a weird nightmare?” You squeak, staring at Mr. Yang and the others in disbelief.

Himeko and March give you a sympathetic look, both patting and rubbing your shoulder with comfort. You lean back in your seat, letting the information sink in. March reaches for your Immortal’s Delight, handing it to you, hoping it’ll snap you out of your inner turmoil. You wordlessly take the sweet drink from March’s hand, taking a sip of the drink while you continue to stare at the table in front of you. The longer you stare at the table and mindlessly sip the Immortal’s Delight, you can’t help but find yourself trying really hard to recall things that happened before you magically appeared at Amphoreus. 

“What about the time I died? Is that real, too?” You mutter, looking up at the men through your lashes.

Everyone in the room was tense at your question. Out of all the things you could’ve brought up, you chose one thing no one wants to remember. Jing Yuan clears his throat, placing his cutlery down on the plate.

Jing Yuan crosses his arms over his chest. “That is something we do not bring up or talk about for very good reasons, [Y/N],” Jing Yuan states.

The mere tone and body language of the General of the Xianzhou Luofu sends chills down your spine. It’s not that you’re afraid or nervous, it’s something you’re not used to. From what you can recall, Jing Yuan has always been sweet to you and would spoil you with every chance he gets. However, this sudden shift in tone and body language when you brought up the topic of your death was something you didn’t expect. 

You hesitantly nod. “Okay, I won’t bring it up,” you mutter against the straw.

Later that day, you’re in Eternal Holy City Okhema, hanging out with the others. While the others are engrossed in their surroundings, you sit to the side, trying not to be engulfed by your inner turmoil. Blade sits beside you, occasionally glancing at you. You close your eyes, sighing.

“What’s on your mind?” Blade mutters.

You hug your legs to your chest and rest your chin on your knees. “A lot of things are occupying my thoughts, Blade. It’s been nothing but bothersome,” you whisper, pressing your lips into a thin line.

“What could be occupying your head? It’s better to let things come to you naturally, no?” Dr. Ratio mutters, now sitting beside you while ignoring the glare Blade shoots in his direction.

So much for having some alone time with you.

You puff your cheeks out in frustration and run your hands through your hair, tempted to tug at the roots. That is what you’re doing, letting all of your memories come back to you in bits and pieces without trying to force them to return to you. Dr. Ratio grabs your hand, gently pulling it away from your head, and places your hand onto his lap. Blade narrows his eyes at Dr. Ratio, as if he’s mentally plotting the man’s demise. 

“You guys already know how I am. Why can’t you guys tell me a few memories you have of me to help speed up the process?” You grumble, watching Dr. Ratio play with your hand.

“If we did tell you a memory we have of you, would that really help you regain your memory?” Sunday interjects, now standing before you with his hands propped on his hips. “I understand that it’s frustrating to walk around with little to no memory of who you and those around you are, but you cannot force yourself to regain your memories.”

You huff in response, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re regurgitating information I already know, Sunday. At least, once we return to the Astral Express, I won’t have to deal with your calculating stares. You kind of intimidate me, Sunday.”

Sunday stares at you, unsure whether he should be offended by your comment or feel relieved that you remember that you find him intimidating. Wait, does he have a calculating stare? Sunday turns to Blade and Dr. Ratio for confirmation, only to see both of them nodding already without having to ask verbally. 

You quickly interrupt before Sunday can ask, “Don’t take it personally, Sunday. I usually find pretty people intimidating, and you happen to be one of them.” You shrug, rubbing your now throbbing temples, “You and those pretty angel wings behind your ears.” 

Sunday stares at you with amusement, the corner of his lips curving up. The halovian looks away, his cheeks turning bright red at your compliment. Oh, Aeons, if only you two were alone, then he could finally snatch you up for himself and claim you as his and his only. The mere thought of sharing you with other people, such as the Aeon of Destruction—a being that has nothing but lust for blood and destruction— disgusts Sunday. Is it too late to snatch you away for himself? This time, he will take you to the edge of the cosmos so no one can find both of you. It’ll just be you and him in another universe with no one else to interfere. He will make sure that no one can find both of you this time. 

“Hello, hello. What are we talking about over here?” Jiaoqiu asks, approaching your group with Moze by his side.

Moze crosses his arms over his chest, staring you down. “You’re not up to something, are you?” The gray-haired man asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

“What?! No! And even if I am, how would I pull it off with amnesia?” You grouse, glaring at the Shadow Guard.

Your glare doesn’t faze Moze as he and Jiaoqiu sit across from you, Dr. Ratio, and Blade. On the other hand, Sunday continues standing, deep in his thoughts, while staring at you. Dr. Ratio, Blade, Jiaoqiu, and Moze raise their eyebrows at Sunday before looking at each other, checking to see if the others around them notice Sunday’s strange behavior.

“Hey, you six! How’s it going over here? Are you guys enjoying Amphoreus after being here for two months?” Phainon asks, approaching your group with a cute smile. 

The five men don’t respond to Phainon at first, all staring at him with varying expressions. When Phainon’s cute smile morphs to an awkward one after not receiving an answer, Jiaoqiu politely answers for the group. Phainon turns to you, looking at you from head to toe, craning his head to look at every detail of you. It’s not new to you to have Phainon examine you, but for the others, it looks like he was shamelessly checking you out. Perhaps he’s doing both, who knows!

Mydei struts up to you, his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s time to return.” The Crown Prince states, not leaving room for protests.

“Huh? Already? But then I’m going to be holed up in my room doing nothing until tomorrow,” you mutter, staring at the Crown Prince in disbelief.

Anaxa stands beside the Crown Prince, holding up the same thick book he was rambling about a few days ago. “If you’d like, I can go over some things you missed out on after you fell asleep,” Anaxa suggests, flashing you that charming smile of his.

You stare at Anaxa and Mydei for a moment, conflicted. You could ask someone to get your phone for you, so you can keep yourself occupied while you’re on bed rest, but since you don’t remember your password and didn’t activate face recognition, that’s out of the options. After thinking for a few minutes, you shrug, looking at Anaxa.

“What the hell, sure,” you said, allowing Anaxa to drag you.

Even though you’ve been gaining your memories little by little, Mydei has advised you not to leave Amphoreus until you recover all of your memories. It sounds impossible because those who suffer amnesia can either regain their memories after a week, or it’ll take months. Heck, in some cases, there are people who never fully recover their memories after having amnesia. That’s one of your biggest concerns, but you’ve been quite fortunate not to have to be the third option. 

Despite being almost a hundred percent recovered, you wake up in your temporary room to a room full of red roses—not just any red roses, but the same red roses that are named after a certain Knight of Beauty. You rub your eyes, trying to process what you see. How in the world did Argenti manage to sneak over dozens of red roses into your room while you’re asleep?

Argenti stands at the edge of your bed, smiling at you. “Good morning, my beautiful red rose. What do you think? Only someone as beautiful as you deserves to wake up to being surrounded by roses.” He asks, gesturing to the wall of flowers surrounding you two.

Before you can respond to Argenti’s question, Sampo’s loud sneeze interrupts you. Everyone in the room flinches. You stare at Sampo, seeing him sniffle and rub his nose. Sampo gives you a sympathetic look, rubbing the back of his head.

“Are you okay, Sampo?” You ask, scooting close to the edge of the bed.

Sampo waves off your concern. “Oh, don’t worry about me, gumdrop! I’m just having slight allergies right now. Nothing to worry about! I can pop an allergy medication, and I should be fine,” Sampo says, giving you a thumbs up before sneezing into the crook of his arm.

Sampo turns to look at Luocha with an expectant stare, only for the blond man to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh. Luocha digs into his pocket and pulls out a medicine bottle, handing it to Sampo without question. You raise your eyebrows at Sampo and Luocha. It seems like Luocha’s prepared for this specific moment.

Luocha shakes his head. “Don’t question it. I have to be prepared somehow, unless you want him to sneeze over twenty times in one day,” Luocha mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. 

The longer you stare at the roses around you, the more you can’t help but yearn for the outdoors. You hug your legs to your chest, resting your chin on your knees with a soft exhale. The men around you stare at you worriedly, wondering if you’re not satisfied with the number of roses in your room. If you want more, they can certainly get you more! All you have to do is say the magic word, and they shall make your dreams come true. 

Mr. Yang props his hands on his hips. “Is there something wrong?” He asks, examining you closely.

You smile and shake your head. “Not really, Mr. Yang. But I do want to know one thing…” You trail off, pressing your lips into a thin line.

Would they even allow it if you asked them? They wouldn’t be against it, would they?

“And that is…?” Dan Heng asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

Oh, fuck it. It’s not like they’ll be keeping you imprisoned on Amphoreus.

“When can I return to the Astral Express? How come you guys are allowed to return to the Astral Express, but I have to stay here?” You ask, leaning against the headboard of the bed.

After regaining consciousness, everyone would stop by Amphoreus and keep you company, but when it’s bedtime for you, they board the Astral Express for the night. Heck, some of them would return to Penacony, the Xianzhou Luofu, Jarilo-VI, and the Herta Space Station to tend to their duties.

Then there’s you: stuck on Amphoreus in your hospital room with nothing to do but watch the skies change color. Sometimes you’re allowed to walk around the hospital, but only if you’re given permission. Luocha would assist the doctors with your treatment, making sure you’re healing properly, and he would keep you company during your checkups (which are every other day). As for Jiaoqiu, he makes sure you take your medications—yes, by making you eat spicy food. It works, if you have to be honest. But it does make you use the toilet more than you would like, but hey, if it works, it works.

Moze raises an eyebrow at your question. “What? Are you not enjoying your time on Amphoreus?” Moze mutters, looking at Mydei, Phainon, and Anaxa from the corner of his eye.

You rub your temples, shaking your head. “What’s there to enjoy when I’m constantly cooped up in this room?”

“Uh, that’s not true! Remember, you were chilling in the hospital garden for lunch and we were at Eternal Holy City Okhema not long ago!” Boothill interjects, only to falter. “Now that I think about it, you seem more like a prisoner than a visitor on Amphoreus.” 

You scoot to the edge of the bed and stand up, stretching your legs. “I understand that my stay in this hospital is to monitor my healing progress, but I should be allowed to stop by the Astral Express once a week to say hi to Pom-Pom. I miss the little guy.”

Gallagher shrugs, nodding his head. “I mean, they have a point. Luocha and Jiaoqiu have been helping with the healing process; they should’ve been able to stop by the Astral Express after being mostly healed from their injuries.”

Despite being cooped up in your hospital room most of the time, Nanook did find ways to keep you entertained. Whenever you fall asleep, Nanook visits you in your dreams. He would create a world for you, a world you have never seen before (it could be Amphoreus; you have never explored Amphoreus before, so how would you know?). The skies are pink and blue; it’s warm but not uncomfortably warm. Every time you fall asleep, you and Nanook meet in that very same world, spending time together until you wake up.

You snap out of your thoughts when Dr. Ratio taps your forehead, trying to grab your attention. You grab Dr. Ratio’s finger, staring at him blankly. 

“Daydreaming while we try to explain to you about your conditions? How disrespectful,” Dr. Ratio mutters, reaching to pinch your nose. 

You smack his hand away and try to mimic him, only for him to grab your wrist and pull you into his arms. You’re tempted to protest, but getting a hug from Dr. Ratio is quite rare in your case. You don’t know the man long enough to breathe the same air.

Sunday glares at Dr. Ratio from afar. “Oi, would it kill you to be careful with them!?” Sunday hisses.

Dr. Ratio raises his eyebrows at Sunday, smirking with amusement. Dr. Ratio pats your head without taking his eyes off of Sunday. If anyone stares at Sunday long enough, maybe they’ll see steam coming from his ears.

Caelus clears his throat. “You can return to the Astral Express. You’ve been cleared by your doctor this morning before we started setting up the red roses in your room,” Caelus says, shrugging his shoulders. “If we do that, I would like to volunteer to show you my bedroom renovations!” Caelus props his hands on his hips with a proud smirk. 

You stare at Caelus, mouth agape. Were you gone for that long?! Caelus walks over to you, scrolling on his phone to find pictures of his newly renovated bedroom on the Astral Express. The gray-haired man hands you his phone, letting you swipe through the photos. Caelus has a bar, bathroom, gaming area, and living space in his room. 

You look at Caelus, handing his phone back. “Are you looking for a roommate by chance?”

Caelus snickers. “As long as the Aeon of Destruction doesn’t bunk with us, yes, I am looking for a roommate.”

“Not going to happen.” The men simultaneously say, glaring at Caelus.

March glares at Caelus. “We have our own rooms on the Astral Express for a reason, Caelus! Besides, [Y/N]’s room is cute and comfortable! Your room is doing too much on the Express,” March huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

You shrug. “I think it’s an introvert’s dream. It’s kind of like a studio apartment, but on a train.”

March suddenly gasps, marching over to where you stand and cups your face in her hands, eyes wide with wonder. “Wait, does this mean you have your memories back!?” She shrieks, shaking you back and forth.

You squeeze your eyes shut and place your hands over hers, gently squeezing them. “I mean, they’ve been coming back little by little, if that’s what you’re implying.”

Luka furrows his eyebrows at you, walking towards you and March. “Wait, does that mean you remember what happened before you vanished for months?”

You shake your head. “Not really? I don’t remember that much. I remember most things that happened before I magically appeared on Amphoreus.”

People around you groan at another (temporary) dead end on the mystery of your disappearance. After getting you checked out of the hospital, everyone returns to the Astral Express, carrying the roses back to the train. As for Sampo, he’s giving you piggyback rides to the Astral Express so he wouldn’t have to carry his allergies onto the train. While your group is ahead, Phainon, Mydei, and Anaxa fall behind.

“Are we really not going to tell them?” Phainon mutters. “They’re going to hate us for this if they ever find out themselves.”

Mydei shakes his head, clutching the roses to his chest. “There’s no point in telling them. I’m sure [Y/N] will inform them when they remember. That is, if the trauma didn’t block out the memory,” Mydei mutters. 

Anaxa shakes his head. “I’m sure they’ll be fine if they find out themselves. Besides, if I recall correctly, this isn’t the first time [Y/N] died in this dimension.”

What they don’t know won’t hurt them, right? 

Note: Again, I sincerely apologize for not updating the HSR series in so long ;v; I'm still behind on the game. I have yet completed the Xianzhou quest with the Wardance and March being on the path of Hunt. While I work on the Love&Deepspace fanfic (it won't be too long since it's about 95% completed in the drafts), I'm going to try to catch up on HSR. It's going to take some time, though. I was informed that the Amphoreus quest from the start to the current quest is about 28 hours. If you're interested in joining my Discord server, the invite to my Discord server can be found [HERE]! The Discord server invite links will be different every time I post a new fanfic, and these links have expiration dates. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist: No taglist for this update:) will be making a new one in the future

Read more of my works on my Grand Masterlist, which contains every masterlist I have created! | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories there, too, but who knows? You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[aventurineswife]

Hiii! I'm a relatively new reader who has fallen in love with your fics lol, could I request for some crack and funny moments with the astral express crew? (reader is a member of the express btw)

“Welcome Aboard the Disaster Express!”

Summary: Life aboard the Astral Express is full of breathtaking cosmic adventures… and absolute nonsense. As a member of the crew, you’ve long accepted that professionalism is a distant dream, and chaos is the true conductor of this train. Whether it’s March antagonizing Dan Heng, Trailblazer being an unhinged cryptid, or Sunday delivering existential monologues at 9 AM, you’ve learned to just go with the flow. At least it’s never boring.

Tags: Astral Express x Reader, Astral Express Crew Shenanigans, Crack & Humor, Found Family Vibes, Platonic Relationships, Mild Existential Crisis Courtesy (of Sunday), Dan Heng Is So Done, Trailblazer: Chaos Personified, Welt Deserves a Raise, March 7th vs. Dan Heng.

Warnings: Mild swearing, Unhinged behavior from Trailblazer (as expected), Existential rambling from Sunday, Dan Heng contemplating violence (he won’t actually do it… probably), Welt is tired. Just generally.

A/N: Awww thank you!! 🤭💖

The moment you wake up, you already know today is going to be a mess.

For one, Trailblazer is missing. Again. And if past experiences have taught you anything, it’s that their absence usually means trouble.

For two, March is running down the hall at full speed, her camera in one hand and a look of pure chaos in her eyes.

“For the love of Aeons—someone stop them!” Welt’s voice rings out, exasperated yet resigned.

You don’t even get a chance to ask what's happening before March practically tackles you, using your shoulder as a shield while snapping a picture of something—or someone—behind you.

“I got it!” she cheers, pumping a fist in victory.

You glance over your shoulder, half-expecting an eldritch horror, only to find Dan Heng standing there, looking deeply unamused. His spear is in hand, though it’s not aimed at anyone—yet.

“March,” he says in a calm, yet menacing tone, “delete that.”

“Nope,” she chirps.

“March.”

“It’s for science.”

“I will destroy that camera.”

“I have backups,” she grins.

You decide it’s best to take two steps away from the brewing conflict.

Before Dan Heng can contemplate murder, Sunday walks in, radiating his usual composed, otherworldly aura—until he sees the scene before him and sighs. His halo flickers slightly, as if even it is tired.

“Another morning of senseless conflict,” he mutters. “Truly, the cycle of strife knows no end.”

You blink at him. “It’s literally just March annoying Dan Heng again.”

“Yes,” he agrees, “but is this not a reflection of our broader struggles? A reminder that conflict is inherent even in our found families?”

There’s a moment of silence before Trailblazer suddenly emerges from inside a supply cabinet, looking completely unbothered despite the fact that they were very much not supposed to be in there.

“Good morning,” they greet, as if they weren’t just casually hiding in a cupboard like a cryptid.

Welt, who just arrived, pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why were you in there?”

“Dunno. Seemed like a good place to take a nap.”

“I—” Welt visibly restrains himself from asking more questions. “You know what? No. I don’t want to know.”

You give Trailblazer a look. “You’re an enigma.”

They smirk. “I try.”

Himeko enters with a steaming cup of coffee, looking far too elegant for someone who has to deal with this daily nonsense. “I see everyone’s already in top form this morning.”

Dan Heng sighs, still eyeing March with suspicion. “If by ‘top form,’ you mean ‘already causing unnecessary chaos,’ then yes.”

Sunday hums, thoughtful. “Perhaps the chaos itself is what keeps us together. Without it, would we still be the same?”

“…No offense,” you say, “but do you ever just say things without making them sound like the intro to an existential crisis?”

Sunday’s eyes glimmer with amusement. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Trailblazer leans over to you. “I think that’s his way of saying no.”

March, still holding her camera hostage, grins. “C’mon, guys, let’s take a group picture! This moment is totally capture-worthy!”

Dan Heng deadpans. “So you can delete photos.”

March winks. “Not happening.”

As Welt sighs, Himeko sips her coffee, Trailblazer plots their next act of mischief, and Sunday ponders the metaphysics of chaos, you realize something:

Maybe the Astral Express is absolute nonsense.

But hey, at least it’s your nonsense.

And that makes all the difference.

[ardensregias]

somnophilia (with or without consent you choose) with aventurine or sunday...

alright 👍🏻 i'm going with aventurine for this one, since his banner is tmrw yippee :3 may all avennie wanters become avennie havers ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

nsfw, consensual somnophilia, afab!reader, reader wears nightgown, fingering, spooning fucking (i have no idea what it's called (u_u)), established relationship, petnames used: darling, baby, sweetheart, little bunny.

"...my love?"

rubbing his tired eyes to prevent them from closing, aventurine enters your shared house together—only to find you asleep on the couch, filling the otherwise quiet living room with the soft rumble of your snores.

his lips slowly curl up to form a faint smile, little hearts dancing across his beautiful pupils as he steps closer to you, getting a good look at the way the silk gown highlights your curves—all the stress he accumulated from working instantly disappears into thin air the moment he came home to this, like something served only for him in a silver platter.

"you'll catch a cold..." he sighs, stepping closer to take you back inside your shared bedroom—while his eyes gawk at your body, glancing at your chest and legs, before he looks away and try not to act on his desire; you have said that it is fine for him to relief his stress by using you, even in an unconscious state—still, he'd rather not disturb your beauty sleep. slowly, he places you down on to the mattress and kissed your forehead, wishing you a good night's sleep before he stood up, attempting to leave and change his clothes first.

that is, until you decided to roll over, causing your dress to hikes up your thighs, revealing the skimpy and lacy panties underneath—aeons, how could you possibly be any more alluring? he wouldn't be able to hold back himself if this persists.

aventurine gently pushes the silky fabric further up, finally caving in, "'m sorry..." he murmurs, his gloved fingers slowly making their way inside your puffy folds, stimulating the sensitive nerves and getting surprised when he hears the squelching noises, already so loud when he barely does anything—he's starting to suspect that you may have been thinking of him a lot... probably not in an innocent way too (neither did he).

"are you dreaming of me, baby?" his lips curl up to form a small smirk, pumping his digits in and out of you faster, drawing out that little whines of yours that he loves so much, taking them as a sign to continue. he knew very well how skilled his fingers are, after all.

and continue, he did—laying down right behind you, slotting his erection between your thighs as the blunt head slowly slides into your tight little pussy, sucking him in so nicely as if this is the last time you can feel it. you're still so responsive, he thinks, groaning whenever you unconsciously push your ass against him, meeting his thrust while also arching your back.

the blond man tries to be as quiet as possible, burying his face into your nape and trailing kisses down your back with his arms settled on your hips to help him reach deeper and deeper, until his tip finally touches that one gummy spot—one that always makes you moan louder and beg him for more.

"fuck—i'm gonna cum, darling... ah—you're always so good for me..." he stammers, hips stuttering as the slapping noises intensifies, bouncing off the walls along with your soft mewls and his ragged breath.

it doesn't take long before the knot in your stomach snaps, your walls pulsating around his dick before he soon follows, stuffing you full with hot and sticky ropes of cum—so full that some of it form a ring around the base when he attempts to pull out. it surprises him to see just how pent-up he's been, but a sudden whimper from you brought snap him back to reality.

"'venturine... more, please..." for a moment, he was stunned—are you awake? or are you simply dreaming of doing this with him? the thought of being in your mind 24/7 easily flusters him, making his still-erect cock twitch inside you.

well, as a good boyfriend, what else can he do except to fulfill his little bunny's wishes?

his thumb finds its way back to your swollen nub, rubbing patterns across the sensitive area before he shoves his shaft back in, "as you wish, sweetheart,"

[crepezinhos]

Happy Never After

POV: Even if he Sunday has finally succeeded in his mission of creating a dreamland for all people in Penacony, becoming a semi-Aeon in the way and surrounding himself with nothing but hope and peace, he still can’t fulfill his own one and only dream. You.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is an Angsty and Yandere work

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Aeon!Yandere!Sunday x Reader

— AU is In-Game

— Contains: Mind control and manipulation, time manipulation, emotional manipulation, obsessive, violent and abusive behavior (and denial about it) and suggestions to masturbation.

— This might have lore mistakes because I’m not a Honkai expert, so I apologize in advance.

“I’m really glad you brought me here tonight, Sunday.” Your confession was genuine and emotional, which caused a little grin appear on Sunday’s lips even if you couldn’t find courage to look at him.

You were too distracted staring down at the beautiful dark sea reflecting the bright moonlight of this starry night in its every curve and edge below you, and also too… embarrassed.

It made you feel a bit guilty to have such a marvelous man like Sunday so eager to entertain and spoil you out of all women that desire him and not know the reason why.

Almost every weekend Sunday insists to take you out on dates and hangouts and you always accept his invitations. He either brings you to the fanciest restaurants to eat the most delicious meals of your favorite kind of food, or to walk and talk in the most beautiful natural landscapes of Penacony, or to watch the most brilliant performances of theatre or opera with the most talented artists… It’s truly an unending list of date ideas. And most importantly, he always gifts you jewelry worth millions as ‘souvenirs’ in these dates.

Tonight was no different. He brought you to another restaurant that served your favorite kind of food and walked with you to Penacony’s biggest bridge while hearing you talk about many sorts of things, giving you a golden and pearly necklace in the way. Now, you two were standing close to each other, side-by-side, in the middle edge of the bridge, staring at the same direction, either the sea or the hypnotic view of the sky above it with a bright, full moon in the middle of you two. A truly romantic moment if you could say.

It was making you wonder why once again and it bothered you how you can’t ever seem to find an answer to it, not even the slightest hint. Sunday wasn’t helpful either, acting oblivious all time, as if he has no idea how overwhelming he was by doing this much effort for you. Is this all really just because you and him have always been great friends and he’s merely just showing his gratitude to you? You don’t even see yourself as such an amazing friend… much less when you were a dumb kid.

“Seriously, this… has been one of the greatest nights of my life.” You could feel butterflies tickling your stomach as you finally gained courage to confess more feelings to him and look at his eyes.

“I’m glad.” Sunday looked back at you immediately and spoke shortly, but genuinely reciprocative, which made you feel even more embarrassed about yourself and your choice of words.

Unnecessarily long phrases… silly and unserious vocabulary… struggling to not stutter… It must be a joke to someone with such a wide and formal vocabulary like Sunday…

“Seriously… why do you do so much effort to please me?” You asked a bit embarrassed again, but it felt good having that tension released from the back of your brain.

Sunday’s little grin disappeared when you said that, thoughtful about your question. He looked away, staring at the dark horizon for a considerable moment as he built an answer. But then, Sunday suddenly smiled again, chuckling very lightly.

“May I ask you something, Y/N?” His body turned to you again, a bit more direct this time, as if he was trying to call your full attention and presence to him.

“Of course! How could I say ‘no’ to you after this date?!” You immediately complied to him, abruptly turning your whole body to him and crossing your arms to focus on him for as long as he needed your attention. After all, you wanted to show him the most gratitude you could for tonight’s date, even if you’d never reach his level of care on your own.

“I need to give you a little context before actually making my question, so… prepare.” Sunday decided to turn his whole body to you too, taking his hand from behind his back to rearrange his tie and clear his throat at the same time.

You patiently waited, wondering what could it be that he wanted to talk to you about that he felt like he needed to ask you to do so, or what did it have to have with your question.

“Y/N… I’m in love with you.” His words immediately hit you hard, making your eyes widen in shock.

But you kept quiet, letting him take the pause he needed to prepare for his next words.

“Ever since we were kids, still growing our wings and halos, I’ve been head over heels for you.” He paused once again, gently stepping closer to you to grab your right hand, holding and look at it as if it was a fresh new bar of gold. “This… beautiful, independent and wonderful woman who always accepted and adapted herself to my shy, boring and distant personality and supported me in my every bad moment like my own right arm.” He decided to look at your eyes again, making very intimate and real eye contact with you. “This woman who… is worth every penny of my pocket, every second of my time, every other planet in this universe, every Aeon that lives above us…” He paused one last time, becoming too embarrassed to look at you anymore. “This woman who… I want to spend the rest of my life with.” His cheeks flushed darkly, finding courage to look at your eyes yet again so his message could be clearly heard, seen and understood. “That’s why I take you to these dates, Y/N. It’s because this is how I want to express my gratitude and love to you while trying to… make you love me too… That’s the answer for your question.” Sunday smiled, giggling to cool off from the tension of sharing such a dark secret with you.

He is so visibly confident about this, looking at you with so much happiness and believing your stare was reciprocating underneath the shock… He is so ready to have you say ‘Yes’ to the question ahead and then lean in to kiss your lips.

“So, Y/N, now that I’ve answered your question, I’d like to share mine too. Would you like to be my girlfriend?” Sunday let one of his hands go of yours and rose it your eye level, quietly summoning a rose using a bit of his Harmony powers simply to offer it to you.

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

“Sunday…” You finally realized his little monologue was over and that it was your turn to speak.

Meanwhile, his smile slightly widened as he heard your voice speaking his name so gently, believing that you were losing your shame to accept his love confession.

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

“I…” You struggled to let the words come out of your mouth, voice chords stuck in a purely psychological knot due to how horrible you felt about how you’d just acted so considerate to him… only to break his heart next. “I’m sorry.” You finally broke eye contact, not handling the useless excitement in his eyes.

But despite your eyes looking at the concrete floor, you could feel Sunday’s pink cheeks, bright grin and pupils immediately all dying when he heard your initial response, but he remained stable and ready to hear your thoughts… hiding his disappointment.

“I’m… genuinely really glad that you brought me here tonight, Sunday, but… it would be cruel of me to say ‘Yes’ to you.” You paused, glancing up again just to see if he’d gotten any better, but his expression only seemed more disappointed, which made you lower your gaze again. “I adore you, Sunday. You’re my best friend. But I… don’t adore you… this way.” You awkwardly smiled at him for a quick moment, trying to lighten the mood, but it obviously didn’t make a single muscle of his face move. “So… I really don’t want to be cruel to you and… lie to you and fool your feelings… After all, the best friendships are built upon honesty, right..?” You moved your other hand to place it on top of your intertwined hands and caressed his gloved fingers, trying your best to comfort him.

Shnday was speechless for a moment, staring at your eyes without blinking like he was trying to turn you into a stone statue, which made your heart ache in sorrow and guilt.

“T-Trust me when I say this, Sunday… There are many… hundreds… probably thousands of other women here that want to be your girlfriend. And… they’d probably be better girlfriends than me, anyway…” You shrugged your shoulders, trying to make yourself inferior to raise his confidence again.

“I don’t want other women! I… I want you..!” Sunday screamed with a shaky, cracky voice, eyes in the edge of tears. “Is there not even a chance..?” He abruptly spoke, holding your hand tighter.

“I… I don’t think so, Sunday…” You couldn’t deny his grip made you feel a little scared, but he was going through enough humiliation for you to add the fact that he was hurting you.

“N-Not even a-a slight chance..? Y-You looked so happy with me tonight, I—!” Sunday couldn’t even finish himself from the anxiety that was attacking him and his body, having to breathe in and out to cool off. “I would give this to you every day of your life, Y/N… And more.” He pulled his hand out of the sandwich of hands you two had built, using a bit of force to quickly shove the rose in your palm and close your fingers, making you hold his the physical version of his love confession standing straight.

“I…” You reflected a bit, imaging scenarios of you and Sunday kissing, going out on dates like this but with way more intimacy, love and trust, cuddling with each other, calling each other corny nicknames… but it didn’t work, no matter how much you wanted to tell him ‘Yes’ to not shatter his heart.

“Maybe..?” Sunday whispered with all his last topes, bringing that new hand sandwich to his chest and landing it where his heart was, his accelerated heartbeat pumping in your hand.

And you finally noticed a tear beautifully falling in the corner of his right eye, which you finally took as a sign to end the conversation before it got worse.

“… No.” You looked away from him once again, feeling horrible about being honest to him despite insisting in it, but it would’ve been worse if you said ‘yes’, wouldn’t it? “I’m really sorry, Sunday…” You couldn’t handle your guilt anymore and freed your hands from his knot, hugging his back the the most comfortably you could, the rose’s green structure slightly weakening in your hand.

Sunday’s head inevitably melted in your neck, breathing in your vanilla scent like it was oxygen. You could even feel his shaky lips sometimes touch you, desperately trying to hold back from kissing you. His hands also stopped hopelessly shaking with no support to hug you back with that same strength he was using to hold your hands just now, almost ripping your dress with his scratching and clawing.

And Sunday proceeded to quietly sob, wordlessly expressing his anguish and pain from being rejected… but finding comfort in that same person who hurt him. It was a but odd to you, but it was the bare minimum you could as the friend Sunday mostly spoiled—

“Go home.” Sunday’s voice suddenly changed to a serious tone, the command echoing over and over in your head until you realized just how helpleslly waeak your body was slowly becoming, unable to react or fight back, succumbing to whatever that weird feeling was. “Forget everything I’ve told you right now and replace this memory with me walking you home, and leaving you home-alone for the night after a nice talk.”

.

Y/N’s body was paralyzed as it processed the orders, staring at the sky with dead eyes like a mindless puppet. Even if I rose my head and made eye contact with her again, nothing in her inanimate expression changed. Is this how meaningless I still am to her? Where she doesn’t even try to fight back and remain conscious for me?

Wow.

Progress really is going to be slow, isn’t it?

I know exactly what Y/N is waiting for right now. She wants me to stop hugging her so she can walk away like I told her to. But I don’t want to let go. I don’t want to stop hugging her at all. She is so close to me. She feels and smells so warm and comfortable. And she was letting me hold her hands and back so easily... Letting me cry on her shoulder so welcomingly like a home does… My mouth was shaking in anguish and hunger to kiss it, to look up and kiss her, but I couldn’t. I decided not to. At least getting to feel the tip of my lips touching her skin felt good. But I’ll respect her boundaries just like I should always do and always did with her this whole time in the paradise. It’s a shame she’ll never know about this accomplishment of mine, though.

But I have to let her go if I want the script to keep working like I asked it to. I have to learn with this failure like I did with all the others and move on just like she will right now. I’ll go home and prepare a new date for next weekend, a better one, just to convince her to like me even more and more. So, ignoring all the cells in my body desperately and agonizingly screaming for me to keep our bodis touching each other like this, I eased my arms, giving her allowance to go. And she did. My right arm even lifted up instinctually, wanting to hold her and huge her again, but I managed to stop and force myself to watch her reject me, her figure fleeting and blurring away from my eyes more and more just like all the other times I had to do this.

My heart burns to watch her walking away like this.

It really does.

Once again, I have failed to achieve my only wish when I created this utopia… This Penacony… Her. The love of my life, Y/N Y/S, has once again slipped away from my hands and rejected my love for her. And once again I feel like throwing a tantrum because of it.

But I refused to let my instincts to win me and rose a hand to begin materializing the notepad that I use to document keep up with these… attempts along with its pen.

107

108

Roses

Orchids

Restaurant + Penacony’s Bridge

Cinema + Penacony’s Bridge

Additional Notes: This was the first time Y/N ever felt comfortable to vent about her gratitude to me related to these dates, and she also hugged me, so I won’t delete all her memories of this whole night.

I closed the notebook, proceeding to stare at the floor with no purpose, only emptiness.

It was done.

There is nothing more I can do about her tonight, only look forward to the next ones.

Looks like I’m still cursed to fail every time. After all my hard work, all the sacrifices I’ve made to achieve this, all the love I’ve put into her, she hasn’t fallen in love with me.

Maybe the lack of honesty from my side affects us, but I can’t afford to have her knowing about the truth behind this paradise and me. It’d only make her hate me again, and I can’t afford to have a bitter relationship with her again. I want the both of us to be this close to each other again even if it’s at this cost.

I can’t tell her this is all a dream.

I can’t tell her about my identity as a semi-Aeon who is in charge of coding this entire planet and everyone’s script.

I can’t tell her about our real story.

I cant tell her about my manic love for her.

I can’t tell her about how I use my powers to manipulate how things between us happen sometimes.

But, most importantly, I can’t tell her about our real current relationship. The one outside this realm. The one I can’t change. A relationship that I’ve fully ruined on my own and miraculously restored with this dream. Still, it’s very clear that even this one is broken and unbalanced. But the difference is that now, as an Aeon, I can fix it.

With a simple command I rewrite past, present and future. With more complex commands, I rewrite one’s memories and actions.

So everytime something stains our relationship, I simply make it inexistent in her head, or even reset the day so I can try again. This way, our friendship never has obstacles for the possibility of evolving into something more serious, which is what I want with this.

For example:

On Attempt #4, I broke down right in front of her.

On Attempt #17, I made a critic about her lifestyle that she did not like at all and wanted to dump me for.

On Attempt #31, I slapped her face in anger when she rejected me after so much effor I put into the date.

On Attempt #59, a similar thing happened. I threatened her with my death if she didn’t date me and almost assaulted her.

But she doesn’t remember a single second of those days. I deleted them from her head or I altered them to something better. So, Y/N technically only fully remembers about 15 of these dates, 35 inclusing those who were altered.

It would be too embarrassing to live with her when she had those mistakes of mine in her mind, neither would my wish come true. I know it from experience.

“Sunday, no! Stop! Stop it right now! You’re hurting me!” She kept pushing me, and pushing me, and pushing me.

“Y/N, please! Listen to me! I promise you I’ll treat you well! I’ll treat you so well! It’ll be the best thing that ever happened to you! I’m your friend! Your best friend! Why wouldn’t you want us to be together?! After all I’ve done for you?! I just you want you to be happe with me!” And I kept touching her, and touching her, and touching her until she finally managed to escape from me.

She started to hate me after that forsaken day despite all the years of friendship we’d collected so far. She started to feel hatred, anger and disgust at my mere presence, avoiding looking or talking at me, even in situations where we were supposed to be interacting.

I was forced to move on from her, even if it pained my every cell doing so. Deep down, I was still obsessed about her, always keeping an eye on her to keep her safe and myself aware of every information about her life, but she wouldn’t let me any closer than that. At least I learned my lesson with that. I will never disrespect her boundaries like I did that day again. I’ll respect it just like I did today and all the other days because what good men do, that’s what the real Y/N wants. Those few exceptions are excludable and will be outlawed from her mind, meaning all she has a memory of is me being a gentleman to her, the gentleman I know I am.

That day was just a mere... stupid decision. I’m a good man. I’m a really good man. I’m a gentleman, a provider, a caretaker, a peacemaker and an semi-Aeon. This Y/N knows it. The real probably does too. Everyone I know does.

I just can’t waste the opportunity the Harmony gave to me. This utopia. When the dream finally became true, everyone’s backstory has its bad moments deleted and rewrittenwith good versions of them, and Y/N had the memories of that day altered too without my intervention. I didn’t expect it to be, but when she suddenly approached with that good-old bright smile of hers, something awakened in me. That was my second chance. My infinite second chance. To her, I never attacked her, I never acted pathetic to her, I never stopped being her friend, and I won’t let her go now. And it’s fair because I didn’t personally cause her to lose the memories of that day. This was just the result of a mission unrelated to her, the mission of turning Penacony into a paradise. So, I’m a good, honest man.

I can’t even believe I almost lost to those unrealistically optimistic Trailblazers, that snobby gambler, that disgusting Masked Fool and that wretched dog who dared touching my sister. How was I almost convinced by their useles, meaningless, fake speeches about me being a manipulative man? A dictator? A control freak? A maniac? When my intentions are so pure and considerate to every unfornate soul out there? Dictators don’t search for power for the good of everyone. They do it for their own good. I didn’t do that. I did this for the Family, the Harmony, Xipe...

And as expected, they’re all happy now. Alive, safe, well and living with everyone they love or once lost.

I sighed, annoyed by remembering the memories of the day of that fight between me and the Trailblazers, and turned around. Hopefully, the step I took tonight with my relationship with her will be bigger than I expected it to be.

As usual, every time I took my turn and walked away from her to conclude the night, the same question voiced itself in my mind.

“Why don’t you make her to fall in love with you already and stop torturing youself?”

And every time she rejects me, this will becomes stronger. But once again, I didn’t succumb to it, and rested my hope on ‘Plan A’, shaking my head to hopefully scare the thought away from my mind.

I don’t want a fake Y/N. I want her. I want her true feelings, her flesh, her blood, her heart and her mind. I want her to truthfully love me, feel things for me, be sad, sinful, lusty, naughty, happy and dirty with me. Forcing her to be my girlfriend would only go going against what she taught me that day. I shouldn’t let my powers blind me too much.

“There wouldn’t be real happiness in such a forced relationship like that.”

“Y/N would not be Y/N if you do that. It’d be Sunday’s version of Y/N.”

I counterattacked my own mind, forcing myself to be optimistic about this plan no matter how crushed my heart is.

I sighed, knowing the mental discussion would begin once again until I was finally home, sobbed and lamented myself to sleep and woke up to another day of nothing but hoping I can make my dream come true like everybody else’s dream did. To make Y/N fall in love with me.

“How do you know Y/N wouldn’t be herself under a spell? You don’t know how Y/N is as a girlfriend.”

“Is Y/N even worth all of this?”

“Do you think she’d be happy to learn the truth, Sunday?”

I really disliked these discussions I have with myself. It feels like I am talking to that Wonweek all over again.

I am being honest at this moment by denying these thoughts, aren’t I? I don’t even dare trying to change her past with me, not even my biggest mistake with her. I allow her to hate me and force me to watch her from afar forever in the real Penacony. So what if I deleted a few memories from her to make sure nothing goes wrong in our relationship? I am doing it for the good. For the good of the both of us. I am Y/N’s perfect match. If I make her my girlfriend or his wife, I doubt the real Y/N wouldn’t reconsider her feelings for me because I know I can treat her well. I know I’m the best man she could ever find. I can treat her like a queen or a whole new Aron. All I need is her permission to do so.

How could I live in that imperfect world until my last breath knowing her, out of all people in this world, hate me? Who even am I without Y/N? Without her counseling? I can’t live like that at all. Not when I have the second chance right in the palm of my hands.

And this stupid walk isn’t helping me calm down at all.

I should just teleport home already.

.

…

…

…

Here I am. At home.

Can I even call this place a ‘home’?

Such uncannily clean white walls, perfectly-placed furniture, every utensil set clean and ready on its place to be used and immediately put back to their place using my technological powers. It perfectly matched the mood of the utopia I created, yet I couldn’t feel a single emotion of satisfaction walking around it.

“Welcome home, my love.” It spoke.

I looked behind my shoulder as soon as the voice ringed, a wing of mine twitching in recognition, meeting exactly what I expected to meet.

You.

No, I shouldn’t call it that.

It’s a manifestation of you.

Because in the end, Xipe also promised me a happy, comfortable life in the dream, meaning my dream would be accomplished in this place too. But since my dreams overlap with hers, and the dream can’t afford to have to sacrifice her dreams to make her fall in love with me, the coding keeps trying push this alternative to me. A clone of you.

So it’s her, in a certain way. Wearing my favorite kind of makeup and casual clothes, like the housewife it acted as, working in the house all day for me no matter how much I try to stop it. Her curves and face were distinctively finer than the real one’s, reflecting my own beauty standards when it came to women. I hate staring at it and it knows it. That thing feels like a demon trying to bother my peace, seduce me, and then torture me with the disgusting truth about myself.

Because it know just had bad I desire you. I am disgustingly attracted to her in all ways possible and the clone knows it. It doesn’t stand like that with its hands behind his back out of submission for me or innocence. It wants to show off those fake, hypnotic curves. It wants me to walk to it, reach it, and savor what Xipe offers me. It is a bit blasphemous for me to reject their gift, but they must understand my point of view about this. I have godlike powers too. I’m no longer a simple gentleman. I am escalating in the power hierarchy more and more.

I’ll deny it, and I’ll fight it back. That’s why it keeps standing in corners. It knows what will happen if it keeps pushing itself against me. It’ll be destroyed by his hands, no matter if it can reincarnate or if it’s belly is entirely empty aside from its uterus.

Do you understand what it costs me to keep my hands off that clone? Avoiding using its body to relieve his own desires and stress? Avoiding filling up that womb of yours with myself so I could realize my dream of having a family with you? All it does is tease me and make him crave even more for you. But I keep shutting it down every time because I am conservative in all means. I don’t care if it increases the size of its curves and makes itself warmer, wetter an tighter for every ‘No’ I say. I won’t dare to spoil or pleasure himself with anything that isn’t you or his own hands. I do not want any inspiration for my imagination of you. I want you to fill up complete that jigsaw puzzle in my head yourself.

I want to reserve all that energy for the day the two of us finally kiss, become a couple, go to either your or his home, throw each other in the bed, knot your limbs around each other, rip away your clothes, cover ourselves with the blanket, trust each other to open our bodies and make love all night to each other.

I have a fantasy for dirtiness that I usually hate to admit. But it’s one of my disgusting truths. I want to feel sinful, dirty, naughty and ashamed with you. I wants to be degraded for my disgusting behavior towards you, and I want it be done by your and only your hands.

I quietly walked to my room and ran a finger on the sheets of my bed as I thought about the clone standing in the corner. The bed was soft, fluffy and the sheets were perfectly straightened and balanced in every corner so I could sleep well every night, yet I still feared sleep. It was simply hard to do so when I have so many responsibilities regarding this realm and you.

The things I’d do to have her here by my side, caressing and hugging me, telling me everything will be okay, were unimaginable, especially when I have a “perfect” version of you right there who’d be willing to satisfy all my wishes whenever I want.

…

No.

I shouldn’t do it. I shouldn’t do anything with it, actually. This clone’s temptation is really something else, isn’t it? I keep rethinking about it over and over again. To even make me dare to think about breaking my secret promise to you with a clone…

“If you imagine the Y/N that you desire, that wouldn’t be ruining your actual experience with her unless she is naturally how you desire h—”

I shook his head side-to-side, trying to dissipate his thoughts away.

I will not think about Y/N and the clone like that and I will force myself to accept that thing’s existence in the corner of his room just like I always did.

So I walked away from the bed and went to my desk instead, sitting down on its fancy chair and summoning that same notebook again. I should distract and exhaust myself developing new date ideas that met or exceeded the quality of this one tonight until I felt like sleeping. In the end, despite my negative assumptions, I just reached a new level of dedication and it was far from being the most effort I could do for you. After all, I can do whatever I want in there.

So I started writing.

Maybe it’d be a nice idea to go to either your or my home for a while after a date, or spend some time together going on a trip together maybe with another companion like Robin if she wants it. I should bring you more meaningful gifts instead of giving you bigger gifts. Maybe you’re a fan of simple things and not big bouquets and shiny jewelry and I’ve been just missing that all along. I should maybe even try to wear a different style, either in his clothes, his hair or both. I could change my entire body for you, although that’d truly hurt my pride of myself a bit. But I’d do it if it’d keep her with me.

You have no idea how mad I can be writing all these suggestions. How many scribbled texts there are across these pages with the most insane, evil, cruel and ridiculous ideas I have for you.

And this stupid clone annoys me. Its gentle, hypnotic stare was almost distracting me from what should be my main priority. And, in fact, it started walking. It was walking towards me very slowly, aware of my defeat to its presence and prepare to breakdown and discount whatever bloodlust I have for it.

But, all it did when it was one step away to be crushed, was to stand by my side and quietly sit in the edge of the table. In that position, its knee-long skirt couldn’t hide most of it legs anymore, meanly revealing its crossed thighs to my hungry eyes. And it sold itself even more by slowly trying to pull the skirt upwards and reveal more of its skin.

Fucking Christ. It really fucking knows how to strike.

Inevitably, a wave of tension was sent to my pants, my organ protesting for freedom. The clone giggled while I opened a wing of mine to censor the view of it, desperately trying to force my eyes to focus on the paper. But at the same time I decided to slightly give up and start moving my free hand towards it, finally admitting a bit of my own desire for the clone. My hand landed on its soft thigh and I groaned at the touch. It felt perfectly good just like any other woman in a porno movie would. I wish I could see it, but I refuse to let that clone to ruin more of my dignity. The way my touch lingered in it was pathetic enough.

My thumb acted on its own and lingered and rubbed around its skin, my body slowly leaning down in acceptance and shame. My other hand trembled on its spot, unable to keep writing while half of my body was overwhelmed by the feeling of the clone’s soft thigh. In fact, the last line I’ve written was nothing but random lines that wanted to imitate cursive letters. It’s been haunting and distracting me all along.

“You’ve done a great job today, Sunny.” And it dated to talk to me again and make me moan when I least want to be acknowledged or acknowledge it in my own.

I hate it. I hate it so much.

I want to kill it. I want to see blood coming out of it. I hate how it dares to think it’s better than Y/N’s flesh with its plastic skin. I hate how it knows my weaknesses and abuses it. I hate how it’ll always linger with me as long as don’t have the real Y/N with me.

Buzz buzz

My hand immediately expelled itself from the clone in pure disgust as soon as I felt my phone buzz in my pants’ pockets, feeling as if I’d almost been caught.

My wings spread open, body leaning upward and fixing itself from its previous position. I quickly shoved my hand in my pocket and pulled my phone out of it.

It was Y/N.

Thank you so much for dropping me off, Sunday!

It was a really fun night!

I’m still mesmerized by the view we had of the sea and sky…

Hopefully the dinner didn’t cost you much either

My left wing twitched in appreciation of her words a bit proud of myself, something I’d typically control in public.

I looked around, wanting to make sure I hadn’t been caught at all, and I wasn’t, of course. The clone had actually disappeared from my table at Y/N’s apparition.

I smiled at my screen, quickly unlocking my phone and opening my messages with her.

Please,

Don’t worry about that.

I’m equally glad you liked the date.

Stoppppppp!!!!!!!

You’re too kind!!!!!!!

Its okay, Y/N

I promise

In fact,

I was thinking about taking you to the movies next Saturday.

They’re screening a beautiful romance movie

You’re kidding me?

You won’t ever let me rest, will you?

Sure I’ll take it

I’ll just have to check if I’m free

Of course.

I’ll look for the next available time if you can’t come.

Can you stop spoiling me for one second!!!!!!

Haha

Sure

I’ll stop for now

But I’ll do anything for you, Y/N ❤️

Taglist: @vvalentiqq @ipandacutie @gaboplaydespacito

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it! <3

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

exception(al) | sunday hsr

𖤓 tags ; afab + gn!reader, established relationship, established d/s dynamic (implied to be 24/7), extremely submissive!reader, soft dom!sunday, shoe humping, oral (m!recieving), cock worship, deep throating, lots of praise / pet names, thumb sucking, cum swallowing 18+

𖤓 wc ; 2.2k

𖤓 a/n ; if you care abt me you won't say a word about this post. okay. alright. takes place in this universe, but not required reading.

𖤓 synopsis ; he'd give you anything you ask for. his one love. his only exception.

If Sunday could use one word to describe you, he would pick the plainest option: obedient.

You're other things. Loyal, desperate, beautiful, adoring. There are other words more well-fitted to your character and better words to describe the way you look through his lens. Ethereal. Charming. Provocative

But above all else, if Sunday had to sum up all of your parts he'd choose to put your obedience on the pedestal it deserves to stand on.

Obedience like yours can't be bought with fear, can't even be bought with manipulation. You have to get lucky to find someone so perfectly, unflinchingly obedient in the same way you are.

The leash Sunday keeps you on, intentionally tight, never appears that way on your throat.

That is to say: you bear the suffocation of Sunday's affection so well, a lesser person would be at risk for taking you for granted.

Not Sunday. Never him, of course. No one knows better how much you deserved to be cherished then him. That's how the cycle between you always goes. You live at his beck and call— his mercy. You're obedient with his whims and patient with his insecurities. Eventually, after some time passes, he'll praise and reward your efforts.

(The truth is, Sunday is always one difficult day away from spoiling you. Showering you in his affection after the thread-bare strands of his patience snap is his idea of letting go. There's few things more precious than how doe-eyed you get when he does.

But, a good owner knows to raise loyal pets - you must let them work towards rewards. He refrains for your sake. Always for your sake.)

Sunday always asks you what you want as a reward. Your requests are usually innocuous. Prey-like innocence in your eyes as you fiddle with the ends of his coat and ask for things like a date together or a bath or matching rings.

Sunday sometimes wants to tell you that's not the sort of thing you really need to beg him for. Sunday wants to tell you everything in his order is also yours.

He is yours, just like you're his. Mind, body, soul—devoured heart and all.

(Later, when Aeons abandon Sunday, he will find contentment in the fact you still belong to him. Even falling through Dreams or chained to hell. Still his. )

He doubts he ever will. He will continue along with rewarding you ask. Anything you want, you can earn.

It's rare you ask him for anything sexual so overtly. You do often beg to touch him and it's rare that Sunday lets you. He doesn't like to indulge too often, lest he lose the control that binds him so tightly.

Your latest request is half surprising. The desire to pleasure him being predictable and your bashful request to rub yourself against the toe of his dress shoes being the surprise.

He could tell at the time that it took all of your courage to ask. Clenched fists at the knees, gaze cast down instead of looking into his eyes, fidgety and uncertain.

It's an easy desire to fulfill and Sunday is, by all means, a loving master. If you want it, he'll will it by any means.

"Are you sure this is what you want, my heart?"

The affection bleeds into his voice as he cast his gaze at you. Bent down on your knees, naked from the neck down with the exception of a heather-blue collar with golden embellishments. You flicker your eyes up to him after he speaks to you, but don't talk.

"You may speak," He hums. He places a hand on your head, reaching down to pet your cheek and scratch under your chin. You preen under the silent doting. "It's your reward today, remember?"

"It's important to mind the rules no matter what."

He thinks about bending down and kissing you with a hand on your throat but keeps his composure. Instead, he pats your head and offers a smile. "That's right. Very clever, my dove."

You're elated just hearing it, staring at him. Pure need paints your expression, eyes wet as you squirm naked underneath him. He meets your look patiently, expectantly.

"Use your words."

"My reward," You swallow thickly. "Is it okay if I have?"

"Of course," He appeases your anxiety with a hand cupping your chin, thumb running your lower lip. "Do as you please."

You always wear your heart on your sleeve but it's times like this he finds it most impactful. Excitement radiates off of you in waves, shaky hands fumbling with his slacks. Your fingers are shaking as you unzip them slowly. Each step you take to get him undressed, you look up at him and wait for him to nod. Always obedient.

You get him partially undressed, each step slow - before you permit yourself to pull the rest of his clothes down. His cock springs free from fabric confines as you tuck the band underneath it. He hitches a breath trying not to lose his composure.

"You're hard," You observe in awe. He laughs breathlessly.

"Of course," He tells you staring down at where his cock cast shadow over your face. "It's you, after all."

The praise makes you wide-eyed. You mutter some kind of thank you that he smiles at gently. He can't help but be entertained by how you assess him. You've seen it before, a few times - yet you're awestruck. Every movement is tentative despite all of his encouragement. You mostly stare at it.

"It's alright. Take what you want." Sunday tells you, like it's some sort of gift. You treat it as such.

He feels his stomach tighten as soon as your hands fist the shaft of his cock. You frown a little. "It's really okay?"

"Yes," He hums, suddenly feeling aware of every nerve in his body. Spurred by his approval, Sunday merely watches you. He's fascinated, in his own right.

You're shaking with want by the time you move to do anything.

You stick your tongue out of your mouth tentatively, eyes transfixed on the tip so eagerly it makes his chest feel tight. Sunday is more familiar than most with desperation, but yours he knows like the back of his hand.

And Aeons, don't you look so desperate? The warm wet slide of your tongue is messy as you run it from base to tip, spitting gathered saliva on the tip with each go. It's clumsy, too desperate to count as a kitten lick and too practiced to count as virginal. It falls somewhere in between, like watching desire mix with your perfectionism.

He adjusts himself slightly. He tugs on the leash in your hand to pull your closer until you're wrapped around his leg, cock pressed against your cheek as he pushes you down by the shoulder. You squeak suddenly at the sensation, too enraptured with his cock to remember the other half of your request.

"I won't help you," He hums, teases - something he rarely does. You nod, not expecting it. You never are and it endears him.

There's parts of him that couldn't understand that this is what you wanted. You begged him for it but it felt unfathomable before now.

Your longing for his cock down your throat, in your mouth is so obvious it makes him waver. It's not something he gets used to. You slide your tongue all over his cock, drool giving your skin shine as you wet it over and over not even taking it in your mouth. Just spitting and licking like you're trying to remember every inch with your mouth and burn it into your memory.

Blissed out with your eyes nearly lidded shut, he can feel you rut your soft cunt over the point of his dress shoes over and over all the while.

It's interesting to affirm all the ways you feel pleasure. Sunday knows you let to put something in your mouth. He's fond of the habit - opts for cum soaked gloves or his own tongue to fulfill the urge for you.

This is an extension of your baser desire. Still, still - you do it with remarkable enthusiasm. It would almost feel torturous if you weren't so thorough. You remember points of pleasure on his cock. Along the veins, underneath the glans.

When the arousal starts to floor his system, you dip your tongue messily into the tip - precum staining your saliva with a pale white.

It moves you further along. You open your mouth up all the way, staring as you hollow your cheeks around the shaft of his cock with impressive ease. Fluttering your eyes shut, you hold onto his thigh and ease yourself as far down as you can go.

Your throat is wet and wanting for him. Over eager even with all the patience you try to demonstrate.

A thought passes by him as he watches you do it so expertly. The warm, slick cavern of your mouth accommodates him perfectly. No teeth, just throat and spit and drool. The corners of your lips flood with saliva as you take his cock in, breathing through your nose.

"Have you been practicing? To do this?"

You jolt, suddenly embarrassed. But you don't move to pull yourself off of his cock. Instead you stay for several moments, stretched throat - nose pressed into the thin hair above his cock and breathe him, humping his dress shoes like you're in heat. When you look up, he gets the confirmation he wants.

He's impossible endeared by you.

There's something strange in that it seems you relax after making it down. Heat stricken, swallowing his cock, chasing animalistic pleasure - truly content as your whole body begins breaking out in an aroused shudder. He can feel your chest against his leg, hardened nipples evidence of your arousal. Your wetness shines his shoe till it's reflective.

When you find you can no longer hold it and breathe, you pull back - a filthy slurping noise resulting. The tip sits on your tongue afterwards as you hum. It's lewd and filthy, not something he thought he'd be so interested in.

But it's you, after all.

Sunday admires you. How wrecked and lustful you look. How excited you are from something like this. An extension of your loyalty to him, down to bone.

He'd underestimated you, somehow. His mistake. When you pull off, before you go back down - he hooks his thumb into his cheek. His voice is thick with desire. The arousal is painful in his stomach as it ties in knots, cock twitching at the sight of your spit-soaked face.

"What do you want?"

You look at him confused before something seems to cross your mind. He encourages you. "Tell me,"

"Cum down my throat," You offer, debauched beyond his understanding. "Please."

Fuck. He takes in a breath.

"If it pleases you, dove," He says, then pets you affection as you go to deep throat him again. He decides to praise you. He can't think of anyone who would deny how sincerely you've earned it. "It feels good. You're thoughtful, hm? I'll return the favor ten fold after, like always."

You make a strangled noise as his cock hits the back of your throat again faster. You're sucking hard this time, quicker - your hand massaging his balls as you do. You hold his gaze the entire time even when you gasp for air, nose running. You're still perfect somehow, doe-eyed and innocent to him despite yourself.

"You're beautiful," He tells you and means it more than anything. Means it as you swallow and suck on his cock like it's everything you could ask for, means it as you hump against his shoes and stare up at him with crushing reverence.

Beautiful, perfect, the sweetest thing he's ever felt in his life. His most obedient possession. His from top to bottom, skin and bone and mind and body. Everything in Sundays possession - wholly his.

He pets your cheek as you move back and forth slowly, doing it properly. Bobbing your head back and forth, slow and smooth and deep with each motion until you feel comfortable enough to go rhythmically without gagging in excess.

You suck with such fervor he's inclined to believe you feel more pleasure than he does. Muffled whimpers and whines as you chase your own high. Sloppy at both ends.

Sunday lets himself slip. He moans - moans your name, soft and sweet and watches your whole body go alight at the reaction.

He can feel you cum before he can see it, the wet pulse of it and the sound of your high pitched whine.

It makes you cum, hearing Sunday express that. So he lets go, just for you, like always and watches tears fill the corner of your eyes like it's the happiest you could be.

Obedient thing you are, so tender - sweeter than all things in the world. Sweeter than a a dream. The thought makes his body lurch. His hips thrust this time and you let him with ease, shaking as Sunday lets himself fuck your throat a little harder.

"Gonna cum for you, sweet thing," He says, holding you close as he bottoms out again. He puts a hand on the back of your neck to hold you steady.

Sunday groans, shudders as an orgasm rips through him something irreparable. He cums hard, and you swallow all of it like it's easy despite how far he is down your throat.

He stays like that, catching his breath until he's ready to pull off. A long thick trail of saliva follows, drool dripping down against the hotel room floor as you leave your mouth open to show you swallowed it all.

Your expression morphs into fucked out pleasure, voice hoarse as you smile. "Thank you,"

You're his exception, Sunday thinks. If he's to deviate from structure, order, routine - it'd be only for you. He wipes the spit from your chin as he bends down to kiss your forehead.

"You made me feel good and did exceptionally well," He murmurs, soft and sweet. You melt under the touch, under the praise. "I love you,"

You smile happily. "Me too. I love you,"

"Now get up," He says, stroking your skin. "My turn, hm"

[sleepynoons]

jing yuan x f!reader, nsfw, 18+, not beta read

cw: nudity, suggestive content

notes: pls lmk if i'm missing any tags or warnings. anyway, nothing explicit this time, experimenting more w/ pieces that heavily focus on sexual tension + build-up. anyway x2, not sure how to describe the setting of this piece. still uses some hrs concepts like aeons. jing yuan is rich, the reader is his maid, and both use more formal language. this was a fun exercise!

THERE ARE a lot of rumors surrounding your master. you hear them when you go grocery shopping, visit the tailor, pick up the dry cleaning, drop off lunches at the front desk on days that he’s busy. some of them are about you – who are you? his wife? mistress? there’s no way you’re just a friend, right?

you’re trained to maintain a stoic facade, but inside, you can’t help but be entertained. you are none of those things, and one can only dream of sharing such a bond with him. you’re content with simply being his maid – you mustn’t tread closer.

on a wooden tray, you neatly arrange a cup of chamomile tea, another cup of warm, honeyed milk, and a folded newspaper of today’s news. before you leave the kitchen, though, you make sure to drop a few treats into a feeding bowl and rub at mimi’s stomach, your master’s beloved dog.

“your father needs some time alone,” you say to the animal. seemingly able to understand your words, mimi’s ears droop at a slight angle and she licks at your fingertips, seeking consolation. “he’ll be out soon, i promise.”

you get back up, wash your hands, and pick up the tray, heading over to your master’s bathroom.

from the hallway, you can hear the sound of water splashing and sloshing. if you strain a bit more, you can arguably make out some humming, nonsensical and haphazard in melody. when you reach the door, you hear submerging, and you know you’re right on time.

you knock on the door twice. “master, may i come in?”

you hear a faint noise of affirmation, no doubt muffled by the wall, and carefully enter without spilling the contents of the tray.

you’re greeted with a dazzling smile and glimmering droplets of soap and water slipping down naked skin.

your master greets you, fine smile lines outlining his rosy lips and delicate nose. “how many times have i told you that just my name will suffice?”

“master jing yuan,” you say as you place his drinks and paper on a designated drawer beside the tub, “how many times have i told you that you shouldn’t ask me to join you when you’re in the bathroom?”

“but who else can help me with my unruly mane of silver?” he pouts, tone feigning innocence.

“your hair isn’t unruly.”

“did you not call it that last time?”

you click your tongue. your master chuckles and turns away from you to face the other end of the tub. you grab a stool, hand him his newspaper, and take your place behind him. with a brush in hand, you unravel the red ribbon tying his hair and, with quick, gentle strokes, run the brush through the thick layers. you didn’t mean to call his hair unruly before, but you think there’s quite a bit of truth to it anyway. you also note that his hair has gotten quite long.

“master jing yuan, perhaps it’s time for a trim?” you suggest.

your master hums and leans back so that your hands can reach the crown of his head. “you are right. i shall leave it to you, then?”

shaking your head, you respond, “you really ought to get it done at a professional salon. i can only do so much.”

“you are a woman of many talents. i am sure you will do just fine,” he reassures. you huff in protest.

as your master’s only taking a soak today, you plait his hair into a thick braid before tying it up into a bun. you hand him his cup of tea, which is no longer scalding, and stand up to leave.

“oh!” he suddenly exclaims. “i seem to have forgotten my bathrobe.” he looks up at you expectantly, and you nod in understanding.

“i’ll go grab it. i’ll be right back.” you bow quickly before closing the door behind you on the way out and heading towards the laundry room.

you take your time. really, you needed an excuse to leave the bathroom. you’re glad that your master’s such a big fan of bath bombs, or else you’d see everything… you pat harshly at your warm cheeks to break free from your reverie. don’t tread any closer. you’re behaving like a schoolgirl experiencing her first love, and you can only groan internally at yourself. but you can’t blame yourself either – anyone would fall in love with your master if they know him the way you do. he’s so irresistible, and having been his maid for so long has only enabled you to witness more of his charisma and charm. you sigh, sitting on the floor in front of the dryer as you wait for it to de-wrinkle your master’s robe.

you return ten minutes later, both for your own wellbeing and to also give your master some time to himself.

“master jing yuan, i’m back. may i come in?”

instead of a reply, though, the door cracks open, and your master, wearing nothing but a towel tied loosely around his hips, appears before you. you yelp and rush to cover your eyes. he simply laughs at your antics before grabbing you by the arm and leading you into the bathroom.

“what – what are you –“

“i hurt my arm today, so i will need your help putting my robe on. it is quite heavy, after all.”

you don’t know where to look. you certainly can’t look at the bathroom mirror that covers the top-half of one wall or the marble on the other that shines and reflects so clearly. you opt to close your eyes and hold the robe up by the collar.

“this is hardly appropriate,” you mutter, embarrassment and nervousness coloring your tone. as a result, you try to distract yourself with another subject. “besides, couldn’t you have told me earlier? i would’ve prepared something in advance had i known.”

“i just noticed the bruise as well. seems i was a little careless today.” he then chuckles – at himself or you, you’re not sure.

you remark, “you? careless? that hardly goes together.”

your master lets you know that he’s put on his sleeves, so you step away, eyes still closed. 

immediately, he hums with obvious disapproval. “hm? why are you backing away?”

you sputter, “m-master jing yuan, i should not be here! if you could just – i don’t know – turn around or something, i can –“

“i have turned around.”

you sigh in relief, happy that he’s obedient for once. your master is often relentless in his teasing and tricks, and you’re grateful that he’s granting you mercy in this moment. so you open your eyes, ready to find your way to the door –

your master is standing dangerously close, so that you’re eye-to-eye with him. from this view, you can also see that his chest is barely covered, knot slowly slipping undone.

“master!” you gasp. the proximity, the surprise, the challenging look in his eyes – they’re all driving you mad.

he clears his throat. “jing yuan.”

“master jing yuan.”

“jing yuan.”

“oh, for aeons’ sake, jing yuan! you’re not wearing your robe properly!”

jing yuan gloats. he then says in a low, low whisper, “my hands have cramped up. can you do it for me instead?” he speaks directly into your ears, and you want to scream.

shaking, you stretch out your trembling hands and take the ends of the belt. you can feel jing yuan’s hot breaths fanning your cheek, and you can even smell the faint trace of lavender from the bath bomb. your fingers are too clumsy, though, and you fail multiple times in properly tying the belt. after a few more fruitless attempts, jing yuan reaches down, softly grabbing your hands, and gently guides them.

“and… like this,” he breathes. even when you’ve secured the knot, though, he doesn’t let go.

don’t tread any closer. “j-jing yuan,” you whimper. “please…”

his hands inch up, gliding from your palms to your forearms to your elbows. he does it so slowly, so seductively, so intentionally. he tugs you impossibly a little closer, and now you can feel the heat of his chest through your uniform. then, jing yuan rests his head on your shoulders, and his lips ghost the sensitive skin of your neck, causing you to shiver and shudder at the sensation. the two of you just stand there, him taking deep breaths, you holding yours.

finally, after a few minutes, jing yuan breaks the silence. “i can no longer employ you, my dearest.”

you feel faint. you’re never escaping the gossip now.

[moonsaver]

Thinking back to a post you once made about Aeon Sunday… Imagine being someone who knew Sunday in the past before his ascension, only to then receive the gaze of Aeon Sunday later in life

Oh my god. I love this. This is simultaneously creepy AND oddly romantic.

Theres a lot of possibilities for this – was reader sunday's crush? A suitor? Maybe just someone he shared small talk with and actually liked it more than usual? Ooohohoho

Im not sure if its yan or not, so i just kinda.. kept it variable(?)

This ones a bit longer because i desperatley need to wordvomti . Thanks.

Achieving an aeon's gaze is strange, your discipline, morals, ideals, lifestyle, something has to deeply resonate with their followed path. Let us assume Sunday is something similar to a "dreamlike" aeon [maybe it's mentioned in his boss form description, all i remember is the embryo of Philosophy ;;]

But again, it's not exactly stated how you'd be able to achieve an aeon's gaze; i still have no idea how acheron did it [IX is literally a black hole??], because i cant for the life of me read through those huge blocks of texts in the dialogue.

So lets say Sunday's able to pull his own strings and maybe even force you on that path. He's an aeon – who's stopping him?

Its the middle of the night, you're awake in bed, tossing and turning. It feels like something in your chest is pulling, a weird sensation you've been trying to put off. Your eyes are burning from the lack of sleep, but your mind seems restless. You try to calm yourself down and think about one thing and then another, one by one, until you remember Sunday. You wonder what was going through his mind, his in-between words in that one conversation, what he could have meant..

And like that, you fall asleep. Your bones sink into the bed, your weight relaxes into the pliant surface.

And then you awake. But somewhere else. It's not your bedroom – not the familiar ceiling, nor the corner of your room with piled clothes or a messy table. It's the cosmos, littered with stars. It's strange. You almost don't notice until you try to move – you're floating in space.

You turn, and he's there. That recognizable golden halo, stretching out into the dark expanse like the inside of a star plunging into the depths, golden eyes that peer down at you; with recognition, understanding, almost sympathy, and something you can't quite place. Your ribs ache and your lungs burn when you're reminded to breathe – this is the man you were thinking about before you slept.

You wake up, panting, shooting up in bed. The familiar space of your room greets you this time. The night is young outside your window ‐ not much time seems to have passed in that brilliant moment.

You were ready to chalk it up to a dream, like the ones where you feel like you're falling and wake up with a racing heart. But then you look down, and see a strange symbol on your body, something akin to an eye.

It seems you've earned his blessing to follow his path.

And even more? It seems like you're the first person to actually follow this path.

It's strange and isolating in a way. You can awaken from the sweetdream paradise your beloved Aeon seems to have put penacony under. You gain this strange, superflous, iridescent ghost of a halo, and you realise you can use it to communicate.

You can communicate with Sunday.

But a part of you finds it pointless. you can't understand what he's saying anymore; Aeons' existence transcends language. You can only hear whispers of people speaking to you, as though it's from the corner of a room, somewhere in the distance, with one barely audible male voice standing out in the whispering; it might be sunday's real voice, but you're not sure. At least, to some degree, you've managed to make out a few words.

Some words give you information. You can monitor the true handiwork of your aeon this way. Every person's dream — sweet, deep slumbers, exquisitely woven by deft fingers, all in 7 days. You figured this when you phased out of the dream, looking down at your own sleeping body and freaking out, when Sunday communicated with you for the first time, instantly calming you down. Dream. Woven. 7 days. Those words were evident in the cacophony of whispers.

Some words carry warnings. Or rather, they're not exactly words.

When your curious hands boldly trace the surface of a particularly fragile dream, you hear breathing. In close proximity, too, as if its right behind your ear. Sometimes, if you try to wake someone, you feel the breathing; warm, and languidly flowing down the back of your collar. You've chosen to not find out what happens when you don't listen.

Sometimes, when you decide to simply phase out of the dream to take a look at your own body in reality – you talk to Sunday. You tell him what you think, who you met in the dreamscape, what he can do to make it better [since.. well, you can't exactly do much to awaken anyone or oppose an aeon]. You assume he doesn't hear you, since you don't get your whispery response, but after you catch a few glimpses of your suggestions in the dreamscape, you realise he's just a good listener.

Perhaps, even if you may be the only follower of this path for now.. it may not be as isolating as you think.

[sh1-n0bu]

✿ 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙩 ✿

characters: self aware!acheron x isekai!gn!reader, slight dan heng x reader to the end

warnings: fluff, poor attempt at humor, consumption of alcohol, lying (from dan heng), brief appearance of playable characters, description of acheron test run, reader is isekaid into the hsr world and is just trying to live their life, reader is referred to as aeon of life and your excellency

notes: just had a shower thought and remembered acheron interaction from the cosmodessy event and BOOM! part 2 of dragon fic is on the work i swEAR PLS DONT EAT ME the divider is from @/rookthornesartistry

“hmm…”

what a tricky situation. acheron had been wandering through the dreams of penacony to find out about the truth of the oak family. or at least, finding some hint and cases that has been silenced by the family. but on the way…

“i seem to be lost”

yes, the amnesiac galaxy ranger had found herself lost once more. she had briefly agreed with the astral express to meet them later at the clockie statue of golden hour, but the poor woman was now wondering which way is which and which direction she should be heading towards. oh well, she’ll figure it out later. right now, she needed to know where she was or attempt to find a familiar face.

looking around herself, acheron could hear the faint sound of jazz playing further down one of the halls. there also seem to be other people there as she could make out laughter and murmuring of people alongside the scent of alcohol wafting through the air.

a bar, perhaps?

quietly, she makes her way to the end of the hall, opening the double doors and coming to what she guessed was a bar. it did indeed seem like it, though just maybe a bit smaller than the usual grand and bright neon sign filled ones at the golden hour. briefly, the woman takes a moment to look around, hoping to find a familiar face. there was a bartender behind the bar, a halovian mixing a drink. perhaps she could ask her—?

a familiar colored hair catches acheron’s attention just as she was about to make her way over to the bartender. there, far away from the crowd of people at one of the seats sat the aeon of life. their back turned to others, seemingly running away from attention as they hunch over their table. acheron had never personally met the aeon of life before but she had felt their warmth, heard some snippets about them through the trailblazer and during an odd battle she was forced to fight in and have seen glimpses of their visage through the screen that the trailblazer allowed her to.

when acheron was first teleported to some theme park of penacony, she wondered if someone had kidnapped her. but when the ranger tried to move herself, she had found it impossible. until she did. someone or something was controlling her body, making her draw her blade and fight, yet she found it hard to hate the puppeteer. it felt… warm. to the lone galaxy ranger, this odd puppeteer of hers gave her a warm feeling, like being gently cradled by the sun. gentle and kind as the puppeteer moves her around, muffled gasps of awe and words of admiration falling onto her ears. this puppeteer of hers’ voice sounded gentle, soothing her heart, filling the loneliness of her soul. as quickly as it came, it disappeared and she was back in her room at the reality of the hotel.

when she briefly mentioned of this incident when she met welt of the astral express, he simply smiled with a knowing expression. the older man had told her about the aeon of life — or at least their reborn mortal self — and how they would sometimes guide some people to help them solve their problem or to bless them with more strength. most of the times though, these people were pathstriders, he told her.

and now here she was, in the flesh, being able to see the aeon of life themself.

quietly, the ranger makes her way towards the hunched over aeon. they seem to have had some glasses of drinks, the ice in them melting inside the glass as they lay their head on their arms, one hand wrapped around the glass of their next drink.

meanwhile, you try to fight back some sleep. drowsiness falling over you due to all sorts of drinks you’ve consumed. though, most were alcohol free, they still managed to knock you down a peg. must be the secret of being penacony dreamscape drinks or something. or maybe it was just siobhan’s specialty. she seemed very skilled in the art of free mixing.

the faint sound of heels clacking catches your attention though, making you stop and take a moment to listen carefully. not so soon after, the sound stops right behind you, along with a faint presence behind your back. you try to play asleep, hoping the person would just buy the act and leave you alone. ever since you were isekaid into the star rail world, people have been clamoring for your attention left and right. you came to penacony with the express in hopes of blending within the bright lights and dazzling signs of the dream world for people to ignore you and give you some time to breathe.

though, the presence continues to stay. lingering just behind you.

gulping, remembering an iconic meme back from your world, you slowly get up from your laying position and turn your head around to see who it was.

“YAAGHH—!” you yelp out loud, nearly shrieking as you jump from your seat when you saw acheron just silently staring at you, a bit closer than what you would prefer. the woman blinks, eyeing you carefully as she takes in your appearance. meanwhile, you hold a hand over your heart to calm the rapid beating of it.

breathing in and out, you eventually manage to calm yourself down. keeping an awkward eye contact with the ranger, you reach out to your unfinished glass of drink, taking a long sip from it. all the while, acheron continues to hold this somewhat awkward stare down.

“a-acheron, what are you doing here? you scared the shit out of me” you say, now finally calm after that last gulp of your drink. the woman’s exposed purple eye widens slightly, as if she was surprised by the fact you knew her. ah right, you two haven’t officially met each other in the flesh. so of course it will come off as weird to the galaxy ranger.

“i appear to be lost, your excellency” she replies, noting the unusual hue of your eye. it had a ring of gold in it, making you look otherworldly. but in this life where people can easily travel from one world to the other, that wasn’t exactly a compliment enough to say that you looked beautiful.

right, you remembered now that acheron had a tendency to forget things very easily and she would continue to be amnesiac until she draws her blade.

“well… where do you need to go then?”

the two of you have made your way out of siobhan’s bar, out of the dreamscape reverie hotel and towards the golden hour as she had said. but first you made little detours in your walk, stopping a few memory zone memes that has become unstable — during the whole time, acheron had told you to stay behind her so you would be safe — taking your time to admire the scenery of the dreamscapes before you two finally made it to the golden hour. it was buzzing, bustling with people from all over the galaxy and street vendors raising their voices to catch someone’s attention.

seeing a floating ice cream at the other end of the street, acheron steps onto the road without looking.

“ache, watch out!” you quickly reach out, holding her hand and yanking her back to yourself as a speeding car nearly runs her over. warm. you felt warm to the touch, gentle in the way you handled her as if she was made of glass. tender, almost, like a lover would hug another to their heart. she liked the way you hugged her, even though it was one born out of protective instinct.

“are you okay?” you ask, squeezing her bicep gently to take her attention. acheron turns her head to look at you, nodding her head that she was fine. everyone would be fine if they were in your protection after all. warm, safely tucked into your loving embrace.

“ache” she spoke suddenly, taking your attention back to herself. “you called me ache, your excellency. do you like the nickname?” the ranger asks, having never received any nicknames from others. this was her first time, having lost everyone she was close to and being forced to walk a lonely road until she caught the gaze of nothingness itself. even if she did indeed had gained nicknames from others before, she had long forgotten them. so this newfound form of kinship in you, in being given something intimate to be referred to by someone, brought a feeling of joy to the lonely ranger.

“i mean… do you like it?” you ask, looking at her face if she would give away any indication that she disliked it. to which you saw nothing. only the faint smile growing on her face. you liked that look on her face. the brooding, sad, melancholic look that she usually wears never fitted her. but when she did that, had a small smile on her face with a face of contentment, it seemed to suit her much better.

“mhm” acheron simply nods, an odd feeling of childish glee in her heart at the thought of having earned an intimate nickname. not from just anyone, but from you — the aeon of life, the very first living being that came to existence and decided to bless other lifeless things into meaningful ones. the aeon of life whose love and care held no bounds, reaching all over galaxies and world — even to ones that were distant and lone — embracing them in your love and care.

acheron liked the nickname “ache”. a heron liked to enjoy her time beside you. with you.

holding hands, eating floating ice creams and magical popcorns, the two of your take your sweet time during your detour to the clockie statue in golden hour. some people stopped you to ask for your autograph or a selfie together. it had become a common thing for you to experience ever since you got isekaid into this world.

the way you stopped to laugh at acheron’s face, where she had undoubtedly made a mess when eating her newly favorite peach flavored ice cream, the way you took out a napkin, wiping away the mess from her lips in such a tender manner caught the attention of a certain bloodhound. gallagher watched, jealous and other unknown bitter feelings swirling inside him as he watches your “date” with acheron from a bit away. he didn’t understand why he was so jealous. he was already in your grace, having come home to you many times while the ranger hadn’t came home to you even once.

but coming home, being in your grace and going on dates with you and holding hands were two completely different things. maybe he should invite you to come over at siobhan’s bar more.

finally, the pair of you made it to the clockie statue. when nearing to your destination, you felt the metal clawed hand of acheron tightening around yours. she seemed sad over the fact she had to let you go. it was nice to be beside you. holding hands, making jokes, feeling of belonging and comfort easily sweeping over her in waves that she never felt before. and yet she had to let go now. the express members were looking at you two weirdly.

“it’s alright, ache. we’ll go on more walks together later, okay? you have my phone number after all. you can text me if you want” your soothing voice graces her ears, filling the empty void of her heart. the woman remembers now. you gave her your number on the way here.

nodding, very reluctantly, acheron’s hands lets go of yours. immediately she wanted to reach out to hold your hand again, to feel the warmth of the sun from your skin again. but she holds herself back, afraid that she might scare you off with how forward she may come off as.

“see you later!”

“aaah… hopefully, today won’t be filled with creepy stalkers or annoying fans running after me…” you groan out, slumped over on one of the seats at the theme park. there wasn’t much people around, even if there were, the people here were too immersed in the exhilarating experience of the theme park. this place really was the world of dreams, huh…

“good afternoon, everyone. this is the ipc broadcast, coming back with news from all over the galaxy” one of the radios that was placed around the theme park speaks up, the familiar voices of the two npc’s coming through to catch some gossip loving folks’ attention.

“yesterday, at the world of dreams penacony, many people have reported to seeing their excellency, the aeon of life, going on a date with a certain mysterious purple haired woman” oh fuck no. no more gossip regarding the most basic things you do. please, no more scandals.

“some reports have stated that their excellency was sighted holding hands and going around one of the most famous dreamscapes of penacony — the golden hour — in a seemingly intimate date with the woman” it wasn’t a date! besides, people were too damn invested into your life.

groaning and silently spewing curses under your breath, you tune out the rest of the news broadcast, instead focusing on the taste of soulglad in your hand. at least there weren’t anyone around to bother you today. or anyone to spook you by just silently standing behind you. breathing down your neck, quietly standing there as if waiting for you to slowly turn around with “it’s behind me, isn’t it?”.

wait that’s too specific.

“your excellen—“

“whAT THE FUCK?!” safe to say, you jumped out of your seat when the familiar soothing voice of dan heng reached your ears. some people around turned to give you a weird or concerned stare.

“dan heng?! the hell are you doing here? aren’t you supposed to be back at the express?” you choke out, thankfully having not thrown your glass of soulglad in your fright. in return, the quiet dragon only tilts his head slightly, a sheepish look on his face. he lowkey reminded you of a puppy with that face…

“i came here to check on the other express members. they weren’t replying to me in the group chat. and now—“

“— and now you’re lost” you finish for him, waiting, keeping an eye contact to see if he would deny or agree. to which he simply nodded his head as slight pink hue spread over his cheeks.

“alright where do you need to go?”

“the golden hour, clockie statue”

“alright, alright. jeez, what’s up with you guys always meeting up at the statue?”

“uhm… your excellency?”

“yeah?”

“can we… hold hands?”

tomorrow, another hit news was broadcasted by the ipc broadcast, speaking of how the aeon of life was spotted going on another date with a young, handsome man from the astral express.

[sqgeism]

Hi! for my req, im puctring a reader who is aloof and just as independent as anaxa is, but can you write a scenario where dove and him are married, and he comes to seek them out after a very long day? im thinking aloof but gentle type for reader, very private but very warm? man i love for kindred spirits :DD

𓎟𓎟 a sweet request from a lovely anonnie 𝄞 a love letter signed with anaxagoras' initials 𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚

ℒ.ove mail — 🍒 ꫂ aww this is cute. im a big fan of this req LMAO i felt like its a good one to establish their dynamic <3 welcome back everyone ! we are back in the building and i dont have long till i leave again oops

every day anaxagoras is reminded why he hates attending office parties.

and it's not like he hates the fellow staff—not all of them—but most he loses his tolerance once someone starts drunkenly blabbering about some nonsense. gossips from the students, their personal lives, or maybe even from the head teachers and whatnot. which is why he leaves early, there's nothing of interest for him to discuss and he doesn't want to darken their mood with his brooding. also, why stay when he can just go home? makes more sense to him.

so putting into consideration that the day was long, and unbelievably hard (socializing with an insufferable co-worker), it made the appeal of coming home much sweeter.

sweet it was, seeing you after such a night. after the chaos, the quite frankly atrocious music, and being shoved around since no one could stand straight, he needed you. and you never failed to be there.

"you're home later than i thought." you say in response to his silence, your eyes still glued to the novel in your hands. "you really tried to tolerate it, hm?"

"indeed, but even i have my limits, and it does not take long to reach them." he mutters while hanging his coat, stripping himself of his usual layers of clothing till he was left with his shirt and pants, sighing. "dove, do you mind moving to the couch?" he asks. "i know you adore your lounge chair, but i.. i think i need you. for just tonight."

your laughter sounds like a blessing after everything. "only tonight? are you not aware you have me for the rest of our lives? but i don't mind, come here."

and every day your husband is reminded to thank whatever aeon brought you two together, because you just.. fit so perfectly. your legs between his, laying on top of him, arms around your waist as he just.. looks at you. adores you, even. years of marriage hasn't lessened just how much you mean to him in the grand scheme of things, and if it had changed, it was merely his admiration.

he thinks it must not mean much to you (it does), but the way his feelings have developed for you came in an unexpected yet.. somehow needed wave. he thought he could still metaphorically feel the sand beneath his feet after being swept underneath, but he came up for air and felt nothing below him. he had moved past what he thought was just shallow, fleeting affection. and now swam in the vast ocean of uncertainty yet excitement for what could come in his relationship.

but aeon forbid, marriage? being a husband.. he always thought it was nothing but a far away dream.

yet you're right here, giving him that look you always do, with that same smile he fell inlove with four years ago.

"anaxagoras?"

"yes, my dove?"

"you have that look again." the scholar tilts his head, humming curiously. "what look?"

"the look that tells me that you'd let me stay here forever if i just asked."

"will you?" "perhaps i will."

"then.." he brings you close, pressing the faintest kiss to your lips, murmuring against your mouth. "..stay, forever."

© sqgeism or wtv (^_^;)

[seaspringangel]

tears like sugar — boothill

summary: the sweetness of your tears makes boothill feel human again.

word count: 1.0k

content warnings: fem!reader ✦ dacryphilia ✦ oral sex(fem!receiving) ✦ overstimulation ✦ some touch starvation ✦ pet names (sugarplum /baby)

notes: just boothill being a love drunk simp <3

“Yer so pretty when ya cry.”

Boothill's hold on your naked hip was bruising and possessive as he pushed you down on the bed, but he still traced a tender, affectionate line from your temple to the bottom of your eyelashes beading with tears as he smiled crookedly; he imagined it to be a star pattern, pressing light into your skin. “I like it when yer face gets all soft n’ cloudy n’ sweet.” 

You flushed, bashfully attempting to cover your face with your hands, but Boothill wasn’t having any of that. He gently peeled them away, forcing you to stare at his face, bright with adoration. “C’mon, sugarplum, ya’ know I need to see your face when I make you fall apart.” 

Boothill had missed you so desperately. His work as a Galaxy Ranger always took him so far from where your hands could touch him. So many bitter nights kept him from the comfort of your arms, as grounding to him as the star shine that he traveled amongst, leaving him full of yearning, loneliness, and dreams filled with you. 

If he still could cry tears, Boothill would have shed several, letting them rain down on your face. But that part of his humanity has long been bled out of him, craved out of his body, sold for parts, phantom tears forever haunting his eyes. So how can one blame him that he was addicted to the loveliness that was you jumping in his awaiting arms, your adorable tears moistening the metal of his neck?

Boothill had you laid out beneath him, your body a universe made for his hands; every awe-inspired, reverent stroke and caress from the pleasure-pain of his fingers and teeth and tongue left you flushed so beautifully, color painting your body like a sunrise, and Boothill couldn’t help himself, he could never help himself when it came to you; he nipped at the soft bud of your nipple, and the sting of heavenly pain was so sudden you gasped, shivers dancing up your spine, liquid heat pooling in your stomach, an electric fire sparking to life inside you as you push yourself into his metallic chest, embers kissing shards of ice.

And more tears, shining and sweet, gathered in your eyelashes. Boothill wanted those tears to slide down your cheeks and into his mouth like falling stars.

All of his hot blood had long been frosted over with metal and circuitry, his robotic body an ice tundra slaughtering the spring in his veins; there was no bleeding heart to beat organically in the metal cage of his chest, no flesh or sinew to rub warmth into, but he knew you tried your best to love all of the cold hardware that forced him to be the ruthless machine he was today, with every tender kiss and affectionate touch that you showered on him. You wanted to make him feel human again. To make him feel like he is someone worth loving.

But there was no better way to show your love for him than when you fell apart in his hands, your tears raining down on him like a gift from the heavens when he lapped up the sticky sugar sweetness from your cunt, the velvet of your walls clenching around his artificial cock as he kissed away the sweet relief weeping from your eyes, the next best thing to a sugar rush for him. That’s what made his empty cavity of a chest burn with something bright and warm: your tears, salty and lovely and just for him alone. That is what made him human.

Boothill continued lavishing you with licks and kisses and small bites as he kept you pinned beneath by your hips. He trailed down from the valley of your breasts to the bliss he sought between your thighs, your delicate cries of please, Boothill, pleasepleaseplease a beautiful, needy melody in his ears, sending every electronic component within him humming. Aeons above, he could hear you cry like that forever until his body rusted over and broke down to nothing but scrap metal in the haven of your arms.

When he reached your cunt, he breathed you in and groaned softly; you were already so wet, your honeyed slick sliding down your legs, and Boothill wasn’t one to waste any precious drop; he licked them all up with a burning, aching swipe of his tongue, leaving behind a shining trail of his salvia. “You taste better than moonshine…” Boothill sighed against your inner thigh, your taste, sweet, sugary, and so utterly addicting, washing over him. “I jus’ want to devour you whole…”

And that’s exactly what he did; he latched onto your clit, his shark teeth and mouth a ravenous, all-encompassing, ruthless thing, sucking and licking and drinking you in until your voice cracked, breaking apart on his name, your cries crescendoing into sobs. 

He ate you and ate you, coaxing one orgasm to crash on his tongue like a wave, then another, and another, until you were nothing more than a quaking, wanton mess gripping tightly at his hair for relief. So needy. So perfect. So completely his.

“You got one more in ya, sugarplum. I know you do,” Boothill cooed softly, gazing up at you from between your thighs with reverence, your slick shining on his mouth like spilled starlight. You looked like what he had dreamed about for so many lonesome nights: beautiful and wrecked from the hunger of his desire, your face soft and cloudy and sweet, wet with tears.

So many beautiful tears. 

He drank from you until you were whimpering and limp in his hands, his grip on your hips lessening until he was rubbing them soothingly. “You did so good, baby.” Boothill pressed soft, apologetic kisses to your body as he crawled upwards until he was peppering your cheeks with them, lapping up the tears spilling from your eyes with his tongue. “Yer pretty as a picture…” 

Boothill knows that as soon as he separates himself from the warmth of your body, he’ll have to leave again, becoming weary and rueful thing cast out to endure the cold, black nights alone. But at least he has this memory as beautiful as the sweetest dream emblazoned in his mind to keep him going when things get hard: you, the brightest stars swimming in your eyes, love weeping between your thighs, your tears sweetening his tongue. 

He will never dream for anything more.

[bundoesnotcompete]

Dr. Ratio catches the eye of an aeon, except its not the one he thought it would be.

Reader is an aeon. Not proof read and canon is non existant around here. See end for notes.

Does this count as Eldritch horror?

The Glowswather and The Keeper of Fate tread two similar paths. The two aeons are somehow able to coexist and are one of the few examples of such similar paths existing for so long together. Just what keeps these two aeons from consuming eachother?

-On the Knowledge Keepers, Page 376.

Oh to be so useless at times. It was an envy that Fuli happened to be so unaware of just how unintelligent THEY were. What use was knowledge and recording happenings if you hardly understood them, let alone knew what to do with them? Perserving memories would not be useful if they did not comprehend it correctly, if they did not understand nature properly.

You would consider yourself superior to Fuli. Your grand libraries held knowledge thought lost and forbidden to time. Memories that even Fuli did not have. The benefits of being one of the first to be born. It was an added bonus was that you knew what to do with such knowledge and understood why it all of it was useful. Though memory and knowledge go hand in hand, one does not rely of the other.

Nous may constantly question, but THEY often did have have answers. They were not a library, just a calculator that had so many questions. Many that you wanted answers to. But, it was often difficult to find those answers if the common maggots did not recieve education. How were they to advance if they did not know the knoledge? Why did so few truly teach and continued to learn?

It was a pity so few chose to share common knowledge. The Genius society prefered to hoard and not help the common folk push themselves forward. They kept themselves locked away in their towers. How could you gain more knowledge to store away if the common ones didn't learn and be pushed foward?

The ghosts of creatures that perished in you domain maintained your library well and your keepers did not have to visit certain areas often. It allowed you plenty of free time to gaze at the universe. Books filled themselves with knowledge automatically before being flung into odd directions. But as you absorbed knowledge, something caught your eyes.

The violet haired man you have been watching was interesting. Incredibly intelligent and yet willing to share his knowledge? It was rare for one to be like that.

You studied the specimen known as Veritas Ratio for a long while. The decision was easy to make. Now to pay your specimen a visit.

If there was one way Veritas Ratio were to describe his state of being right now, it was horrifically ill. His body ached and his mind was slow. It hurt to even think. He had missed his first class by the time he managed to rejoin the land of wakefulness the first time and he had missed his last by the time he woke up again.

His dreams were plagued by odd creatures and the heavy stench of ink. Every time he drifted off he was drug back into the vast labyrinth of libraries. It was no different now.

Thick pools of multi colored inks sorround the dark wooden floor he woke on. Both sky and land were covered by inky colors.

“Hmm, it appears your body was unprepared for my, “ The voice paused before dragging out its next word, “power.“

He didn't, no couldn't, speak back. It was taking everything to try and sit up of the cool floor. His throat felt like it was closed tight.

“Forgive my carelessness. Most I've taken on do not have such fragile, fleshy bodies.“ The wood was quickly overtaken by ink and eyes stared up at him from where he sat. “This library is open to you now.“ Ink was crawling up his arms. “Do make good use of it, Veritas Ratio. You are interesting.“ The feeling of panicked helpness took over as ink forced it way up his throat. He was drowning in the bitter taste.

He couldn't do anything but drown as the aeon watched him.

“Perhaps I should find a more,” The aeon seemed to search for the word, “careful way to bring you here, hmm?“ The voice inquired as Ratio was finally released until nothingness.

“Veritas. Veritas dear wake up.“ He could hear his mother's voice underneath all the water. Wait, his mother?

Ratio opened his eyes groggily, he was in a hospital room.

The nurses in the room skittered about. His mother stood next to him. He still tasted the ink in his throat. He still felt like he was drowning in it.

The nurses spoke around and to him. He couldn't hear them over the muddiness in his skull. The nurse said something to his mother and then left. He closed his eyes again momentarily, trying to clear his mind. He felt the faint sensation of something tightening on his spine.

“Are you awake still?“ His mother's voice broke the silence in the room. She held a cup of water and when he opened his eyes he took it. The liquid was like a thousand needles entering his throat, yet it was refreshing.

“You've been unconscious for days, and that's just when I found you.“ She explained without his prompting. “The doctors are unsure off what you came down with, but you are getting better.“

They spoke for some time.

Days blended together before he was finally sent home. His mother would be leaving soon. Flowers and cards sat on the dining room table neatly. The school and his students heard about his illness and wanted him to get well, his mother had said.

He only noticed something strange on his back when he went to bathe. On his spine like a tattoo was the notorious mark of the Aeon of Fate. It dug into his skin and the ink moved and wiggled like a snake. Only emanators bared the mark and from what little knowledge remained of it, it was a sign of worthiness. An all access pass to knowledge forgotten and forbidden.

A one way ticket to insanity, some said.

The dreams weren't dreams then.

Laying down for bed that same night he was dragged back into the libraries.

“Back again, I see. Unwilling it seems to be. You will learn to control your passage here, Veritas.“ The voice from before began again. Ratio was standing this time. “Go on explore, I will not stop you.“

The aeon's very aura was overwhelming, he had so many questions and yet he felt like he couldn't think of any. Forcing himself up, he wandered to the nearest shelf. If he couldn't speak then he would find something to read. He would be a fool to waste this opportunity.

Throwing himself into books involving physics and mathmatical sciences eased his overwhelmed mind. He even managed to find a theory that may prove some of his other work! The overwhelming aura was slowly becoming a background weight the more he studied. The distraction was working well.

His weeks were spent teaching, reasearching, writing, and publishing his findings. When he slept he gained more control over when he entered the Sanctum of Knowledge and felt himself ease in the aeon's prescence.

“You interest me so. It is not often I find myself so infatuated with mortal life. Yet here you are in my Sanctum, learning so that you may pass on that knowledge.“ You had spoken to him one day ehen he asked why he was chosen. “I've seen your work in trying to rid this universe of the uneducated and ignorant. You've even got those things called scholarships so that those who are poor in fianances may learn. That, Vertias, is why I chose you to freely access my libraries.“

He watched as your many inky limbs tighte their hold around him and began to crush him. Thousands of eyes watched him carefully.

“Go now, do my bidding and push the rest of these lambs foward. I require more knowledge for my libraries.“ You allowed your limbs to crush your emanator into thick ink. He would return soon, whole and well. He would bring more knowledge with him and would spread it. You were already gaining results from this project. Yes, you would keep and close eye on Vertias Ratio. He was quickly becoming your favorite emanator.

Trending

THE FATE KEEPER HAS SPOKEN! VERTIAS RATIO HAS BEEN CHOSEN AS EMANATOR!

-News Weekly 3 hrs ago

Who is the newest emanator of The Fate Keeper? All about Dr. Vertias Ratio!

-Intelligence Agency 1 hr ago

Statement regarding Vertias Ratio.

-The Intelligentsia Guild 5 hrs ago

------------

Notes: I will update the masterlist later and also probably the tags. I am very tired and I wrote this very tired. Not impressed with this one but WHATEVER have it anyway. This is also not complete but its at least got a decent end.

Edit: proof read some. Masterlist updated.

[aventurineswife]

cerces!creator!reader? like same demeanor, personality, maybe the tree roots can be reflective of their wisdom, bottom half of the body just fading into nothing casually lol but most importantly the eyes, 99% closed, but when making a huge point or get very surprised/just emotionally charged, opens them; and they can either be the most striking, bright color but also so warm and rich like honey (sagau and sahsrau plz)

Ahhh I gotta admit—I don’t know a ton about Cerces firsthand, so I’m going off your description here.

Cerces!Creator!Reader in SAGAU

To Teyvat, you're not just divine—you’re timeless. The way your body seems to fade where it meets the ground? The way roots stretch quietly into the earth, knowing, not demanding? Archons kneel not just in reverence, but in awe, because your very presence hums like the bones of the world.

Your voice is soft—always—but it carries. Like wind through leaves, it lingers in the minds of everyone who hears it.

And the eyes?

Teyvat learns to fear them. Or maybe “revere” is more fitting. Because they’re nearly always closed, as if sight is beneath you. But when they open—maybe once in a century, maybe when a ruler’s hubris needs humbling—they blaze with light. A warm, honey-thick, all-seeing glow. Gentle. But unshakable. No secrets survive in that gaze.

Venti calls you “the sleeping star.”

Zhongli speaks of your eyes in hushed tones, as if they once saw through him and forgave him anyway.

Ei sees the quiet strength in your rooted stillness—stability she craves.

Nahida just wants to rest near you, nestled in the roots, hoping your wisdom will soak into her dreams.

To your people, you are not a god of wrath. You are stillness. Understanding. Someone who never yells—because you don’t need to.

But if your eyes open? The world holds its breath.

Cerces!Creator!Reader in SAHSRAU

Now here, in the chaos of HSR’s stars and aeons, you are the anomaly—the constant in a storm of entropy. The Express Crew doesn’t know what to make of you at first. You don’t run. You don’t fight. You simply exist—like gravity. Like inevitability.

Rooted where nothing stays still.

Dan Heng approaches with caution. “Their body doesn’t move... but their presence is everywhere.” He watches you fade at the bottom like some half-dreamed idea—and it unsettles him. Not in fear, but in reverence. You're not part of the Astral Sea.

You’re what the Sea orbits around.

Trailblazer finds comfort in your softness—especially when the world spins too fast. You're the kind of god who asks nothing, and gives warmth simply by being present.

Your eyes? Rarely open. But when they do—maybe to protect them, maybe to grieve—They immediately stop. “That’s... beautiful,” they whisper. “But terrifying.”

They shine like dying stars. Like the moment before rebirth.

Himeko wonders aloud what truths you’ve seen.

Kafka tries to flirt, fails once, and never tries again.

Silver Wolf jokingly calls you a “final boss disguised as a therapist.”

Welt bows his head whenever you speak. Old souls recognize each other.

And Phainon? Oh, he stares. Watches you fade into nothing with a smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “You’re not from our world,” he says one night. “But you still look like someone who could undo it with a whisper.”

Whether Teyvat or the Astral Express, you’re the quiet storm. The root that never withers. And the moment your eyes open? The world listens.

Maybe they’ve been listening all along.

[yestrday]

: ̗̀➛ ALL OR NOTHING. yan! aventurine / gn! reader

it's a nice feeling to finally be on the winning side, feigning fairness when all the winning cards are in his hand. but it's not like you can fault him for cheating. after all, you who has nothing chose to challenge him, the one who will gain everything.

( overarching theme of sl4very, anim4l cruelty, anim4l death, bl00d, graphic description of violence, hinted obsessive behavior, im unoriginal and stole kafkas spirit whisper for reader ) + 7.5k words

"It's just a bet," he suggests, as if this gamble won't cost you your everything. "Juuust a bet. Exactly what are you so scared of?"

He sits laid back in his plush velvet chair, twirling a cocktail as he enjoys the finest luxuries in life. He is clad head to toe in the finest clothing, dressed like a peacock waiting to impress. You, on the other hand, feel more like the peahen— dreadfully drab in your rags and no choice but to watch as the peacock flaunts his feathers. You are knelt on the ground, but your eyes show no submission.

"I'm not crazy, gambler," you bite. "I know the IPC. They are full of shit. And you, Aventurine." Your eyes set on him with hatred. "You're the smelliest of the lot."

Aventurine, the gem of lies and luck, sighs dramatically. "Pup, you know I don't like it when you're so vulgar, y'know? I'm giving you a chance at freedom, so you ought to at least treat me at least a little bit nicer. I'm not the one who shackled you, so I don't understand what the aggression is all about."

"You're the reason why I'm here in the first place!"

"No, Jade was." He presses a finger to your lip and you'd bite it if it weren't for the annoying bind you were under. "Jade came across you and thought you and your talent would make for a nice gift. You were a gift and I'm just the receiver. So don't go barking up the wrong tree, pup."

"So." He leans back into his couch and shoots you a sly grin. "Up for round one?"

You are lost.

The meaning of Paths and their symbolisms are lost on you. You don't care for Aeons— no one on your home planet was. You were busy diving in dumpsters for a scrape of food, tricking your 'friends' into sacrificing themselves for you, and killing whatever was left of your humanity just to make it to another day. You walk on no Path but yours.

You don't even know which way you're going. So you are lost.

You think Aventurine is lost too.

He has every detail of his facade practiced. His gait is relaxed enough to not be intimidating, but not sloppy enough to be called out as bad posture. He talks in a smooth voice that eases fools and makes enemies wary, his smile is charming to sway the opponent into another gamble, his hair is fixed to frame his pretty face, and he chooses words that cannot be turned into loopholes. He is Aventurine. But he is not himself.

He does not care for the Preservation, but he rejects the Elation. He is on his own Path too, but he knows the destination he must reach— his 'End'. In that way, he is different from you, because you know not your journey or your ending. Still, he is just as lost as you.

But he makes a darn good show of not seeming that way. Right now, you watch as he throws the dice on the table, and the whole table watches with bated breath as they turn. A six and one— he lost the bet to the other's six and five. They cackle gleefully as they collect their earnings from Aventurine. They have chips upon chips on their side of the table while Aventurine's winnings are cut in half.

"I think I'll call it a day, pretty boy," the gambler cackles, greedily eyeing his earnings and possibly dreaming about the cash he's made tonight. "Even a gambler knows when to call quits, right?"

Aventurine pouts. "Aww, so soon? C'mon, the night's only begun! Who knows, play another round and you might just end up with more money than you have right now~"

The man laughs again, obviously not fooled by his pity act. "Boy, I'm not as addicted as you are. I know when to stop instead of letting you bleed me out dry." But Aventurine isn't fazed; rather, he snaps his fingers and you lower your head as you step to his side.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? [Y. Name], be a dear and persuade this gentleman into another round with me."

A glow of your eyes. Then you fix the man with an eerie gaze as you say, bright and clear, "Hey, you: Play another round with my master."

As if in a daze, the man's eyes cloud over and sit right back. Another round later Aventurine wins all his losses back and more, leaving the other gambler's side naked and bare of chips. The man is barely out of his stupor when he realizes what just happened— that he's fallen for a trick and now he's ended up with no money to even cover his lodgings— but you and Aventurine have sauntered out of the casino doors by the time he's begun cussing you out.

"Ha! That was fun." Aventurine shrugs off his jacket now that you're in the car and raises an empty champagne glass to you. "You're a good partner, [Y. Name]. Honestly, that Spirit Whisper of yours is such a nice trick. Just like that Stellaron Hunter, right?"

"... Kafka?"

"Yes, her. Enigmatic woman, isn't she? A bit ironic how those with such a powerful ability ended up as slaves. Her as Destiny's, and you as... mine." He gives your collar a little tug and you growl in warning, but you inch closer to him anyway. "So. Gambling. You up for that round?"

You scoff and grin at him with all teeth and no mirth. "You really think that a Cornerstone would bet on their slave's freedom?" Aventurine's own grin grows wider. "C'mon. Even Pteruges-V has better lies than you."

"Ah, right, your homeworld. No wonder you're so brazen all the time, even to your superiors. I forget that fear is a foreign concept to you people. Still," he raises your chin with a finger. "If you're so fearless, why not bet on a gamble? It's not like you're scared."

"There may be fools from my planet that you can trick with that taunt, peacock, but I'm not one of them. I'm fearless, not stupid. And with the way you're so eager to involve me in this bet, I'm beginning to suspect that you need this more than I do." You push him away. "So, no, master, I won't indulge you. I'll bide my time and look for an escape. Just like I've always had."

"And what?" He looks at you from behind his sunglasses. "Will you kill me to gain that freedom?"

You flash him a sharp grin, now amused. "Of course you'd think that, master."

The smile on his face is wiped clean. You really are a brazen thing, you.

Jade has always mentioned how soft Aventurine is on you. A dog of your attitude should merit a little more disciplinary action and even the good Doctor has told him this once or twice after seeing your arrogance despite the collar around your neck. "Your dog bites more than it deserves," Ratio scoffed while you made an action of biting him behind Aventurine. He frowned in displeasure. "You ought to make it learn a lesson or two."

"Now, now, doctor," Aventurine had laughed. "Not everyone shares the same sadistic tendencies as you." An image of you collared and shaking on your knees flashes through his mind, and he finds himself gulping. Ratio looks at him like he doesn't believe him.

It's not like he hasn't thought of it, of chaining you to the wall and starving you so that you learn that your attitude has its consequences. You shouldn't bite the hand that feeds you, not when he's been so good to you. But that... that was exactly the line of thought his old master had. That wicked man who put a brand on him and sullied his hands with his wretched man... he couldn't risk turning into a monster like... that.

Aventurine is weak. Unable to let go of past sentiments and memories, he makes it up with his grand display of bravado and high-stakes gambles. He gambles even as he spoils you, laughing at your audacity and even rewarding you for it sometimes, not knowing whether you'll leave him or if you'll stay with him. It is a gamble indeed, but you were worth every risk.

"What do you think of me, [Y. Name]?" The cityscape beyond the window is glowing with Pier Point's nightlife, and his suite provides him a good view of the world beneath him. He glances back at you, stirring his coffee for him. "Your dear master Aventurine. What do you think of me?"

"Annoying, stupid, a fool, an addict, and pathetic." You don't hesitate to badmouth your master. "You lie too well, you think that luck of yours will never run out, and you try to be someone that you can't."

"And who is that someone?"

Your eyes flash. "Someone strong. Someone confident. Someone who isn't afraid to admit his weaknesses and hope that things get better."

"I didn't peg you for an optimist, dear pet."

"Hmph. That's not optimism. I may not know what exactly fear is, but I know that what is holding you back isn't it. You do not fear things, gambler. You stake it all and bet on something so intangible as luck. That can't be fear."

"Then what is it?"

The stare you give him sets his heart off, looking straight into his eyes and giving a grin so devilish and knowing like that facade of his never mattered in the first place.

"You're a coward. A plain, old coward. Nothing more, nothing less."

That conversation had always popped up in his head in the most inconvenient of moments, especially when he was about to get some sleep. His heart beat faster every time he recalled that knowing gaze of yours, invading where he didn't want the world to see and baring his soul right before your very eyes. His facade doesn't work on you.

He could care less. You were the one person he didn't want it to work on, though he'd never admit that out loud.

This meeting with the other Ten Cornerstones could not interest him any less, and it seemed to be that way for the others too. Jade is saying something on behalf of Diamond, again, and everyone is busy doing their own thing. Only Topaz seems to be the one paying at least some attention, and even then she gets distracted by Numby from time to time. Aventurine glances at the clock.

He wonders how his pup is faring while he's away. Ecstatic, perhaps.

"— All evidence leads to an underground network that is scattered among numerous planets, though thankfully all of them are within the same galaxy. I'll be forwarding an email to you all with a detailed report on each of these. Just know that most of us will be likely deported to these countries to break up the—" In the middle of Jade's tiresome monologue, the security alarms start to blare and two officers slam through the doors with looks of urgency. One of them scans the room until his eyes land on Aventurine, and they quickly approach him.

"Sir!" They say, desperate and alarmed. "Your do— I mean, slave! They've– They've escaped!"

Surprise streaks across the faces of the Ten Cornerstones, even Aventurine's. He collects himself when he catches Jade's knowing smile and chuckles to himself.

"Well, I guess this is the master's consequence for not disciplining their pet."

Did he really think you were fucking stupid? Taking on a bet for your freedom... what a bunch of bullshit. He can proclaim about how much he loves a fair gamble, but you know that's only reserved for the people around the table. You are his slave, the one he demeaningly calls 'pet'— you don't have the chance to make your own dealings.

"Halt! In the name of Qlipoth, you better stop while we're giving you a chance." These IPC henchmen were slowpokes, the lot of them. You weave in and between salary workers, crashing trolleys full of wares and coffees and hopping between levels just to shake them off their tracks. By golly, they might be incompetent but Aeons damned they were nothing but persistent.

"Ha, the Devil Hunters were more annoying than them," you mutter to yourself, skidding around the corner only to come face-to-face with two IPC henchmen. They raise their polearms to strike, but with a chilling grin stretched across your face, you say: "Hey, you: Jump."

You don't look back to see whether they made the seven-floor drop.

This reminds you of the nights you spent back in Pteruges-V: making fools out of the prissy rich, jumping across buildings to shake of the Hunters, and using whatever you had to make things go your way. Not everyone had Spirit Whisper, but those who had made good use of it and you sure as hell wouldn't miss a single chance to use it.

Your mind runs with plans as you continue to run away. Maybe you'll find a nice ship to stow away on, hopefully, one that leads to a nice planet that isn't so stuffy and rigid. Maybe like Homberto-σ, out of sight from the IPC and where everyone minded their own business.

For what felt like forever trying to shake your followers off, you finally came to a stop when you realized that only the sound of your footsteps could be heard in this labyrinth of hallways and corridors. Finally having shaken them off, you sigh as you climb up the stairs to the rooftop. 'Just jump down and sneak off to the nearest hiding place you can find.' You tug at your collar and scowl. 'When I escape, not even this collar will matter anymore. Not when I'm somewhere they won't reach me.'

You've escaped so many life-or-death situations before. Escaping slavery is no different.

"Slave [Y.Name], subordinate of Cornerstone Aventurine, you are surrounded!" A voice blares through a megaphone the moment you step onto the roof deck. You hiss as multiple glaring lights settle on you, shielding your face from them and the helicopters' onslaught of wind. "Surrender now before we are forced to take extreme measures."

Through the gaps of your fingers, you can barely make out the men in black pointing their guns at your head, the red hot of the laser making you a point-blank target. You click your tongue. Those bastards tricked you into thinking you were safe. Fuck. You couldn't even be mad. This was all on you.

"Oh, little pup. I guess I really should have listened to them when they told me to discipline you." Aventurine's seedy voice sighs behind you, smirking as he nonchalantly strides up to you. "Did you really have to do all this instead of taking the bet? Do you really hate the thought of playing with me, hm?"

"Fuck off."

"No can do, little one, you know how much I'm obsessed with you, right?" He chuckles, catching your chin between his thumb and index and forcing you to look into his eyes. Those Sigonian eyes are covered by the cloudy purple of his glasses, but even you can tell just how much he's enjoying this mess you've put yourself in. "You know I don't have a need for your skill. I could easily persuade anyone without trying, but I still let you stick around. Pup, I can't just back away from you when you know how much I want you."

You smile darkly. "That's cuz you're a sicko who likes tugging on the chain instead of being in it."

Those pretty eyes of his darken for a moment, embittered by the snarky comment at his past, before his hands trail down to your collar, hooking it with a finger and pulling on it. "Dear, while I usually have the patience for your tirades, I'd rather not do it today. You've humiliated me enough in front of the entire Corporation. So—" Pulling once again on your collar, he starts to lead you to the door. "— Let us depart without much hassle, okay?"

Humiliation sears your nerves like a hot metal, a warning growl eliciting from your mouth as he continues to tug you away from the rooftop. Close, you were so fucking close. Here you are breathing in the fresh night wind, a jump away from freedom, but then these IPC idiots all had you fooled. You don't care how many bullets will embed themselves into your skin, all you just needed to do was get away from this grip Aventurine has on you.

You grab the wrist pulling on you, yanking him towards you. His eyes widen before narrowing again, as if not believing that you still had the energy to fight like you don't have red laser points on your forehead. "[Y. Na—"

"Hey, you: S—"

You couldn't even get another syllable out. Your collar beats a few pulses before it starts squeezing your neck, crushing your windpipes and forcing you down on your knees as you choke on your blood. It sears hot around your neck and you collapse writhing on the ground as you sob and gurgle on your screams and congealed blood.

'WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY ME—' You can only curse and scream inside your head as you painfully thrash on the cement. '— A BILLION BASTARDS IN THE WORLD AND IT HAD TO BE FUCKING ME.'

Darkness is pushing in on you and the pain is making it too hard to go on, but you've always been a fighter. Even if you think that your squirming is pathetic and futile to the onlookers, you continue to tug and pull on the collar like you have a chance. Your ears are ringing and your eyes are too fucking blurry to see with, but the fight doesn't die down.

Aventurine places a soft palm on your hair. Even through the tears stinging your eyes, you can barely make out the faint expression on his face. Damned fucking bastard, damned Signonian, hypocrite and the fucking devil—!

He even has the audacity to look sad for you, as the light slips away from your eyes.

The first round is simple. Play a round of poker with him.

Aventurine hums delightedly as he shuffles the cards with clean and practised movements, looking right at home at the dealer's table he has sitting in his suite. You blankly look at the cards, not even an inch of a reaction from your side. He chuckles as he deals your cards.

"C'mon, look alive, dear." It's almost like he genuinely wants you to cheer up. "Look, I even poured out alcohol for you. It's not everyday that you get to taste Pier Point's most exquisite wine!"

You continue to stare blankly. You haven't given up yet, of course not, but... you can barely bring yourself to move.

When Aventurine is done dealing all the cards, he leans back on his chair and studies his opponent, just like he always has in the past. If you were acting normally, this would have been an easy win. After all, you always wore your heart on your sleeve and abhorred being told to control your emotions. You acted the way you felt— you curse when you anger, you boast when you're feeling smug, and you press your lips together and blush as he praises you for another job well done.

But now. Well. Bandaids cover the seared marks on your neck as well as your head after you've slammed it against the pavement during your delirious fit on the rooftop. Your arms are littered with purples and blues, the aftermath of a disciplinary session that went on throughout the night. Despite the abuse that Aventurine has (rightfully, in his mind) dealt to you, he had made sure to tend to you afterwards.

Settling your head on his lap, combing through the strands as he placed an icepack on your bruises. He hummed you an old children's rhyme from his home planet as you lay limp across the couch. You could barely move, mind unable to process the pain and despair of having an inch of freedom being ripped away from you. He had wiped away the tear that would fall from your eyes.

You couldn't feel comforted at all.

"This will be the first round out of four. Today, we'll make this a bit simple. Five quick rounds of Indian poker. If you're confident that your card is higher than mine, you can bet as much as you like. Not confident? Fold, and that won't count as a round. Loser has the lower card." He raises his glasses to his hair and smiles at you. "Understood?"

"Understood," you grunt. "I'm not a fuckin' idiot."

Aventurine only smirks. It irritates you, but you don't have much fire in you to snap at him.

The room is silent save for the clinking of chips against each other. The two of you cast a chip to the middle of the table. You raise your card to your forehead.

You cast two more chips. Aventurine casts three. You stare at the printed picture on his card and throw in another chip. He throws in another five. You frown.

"Fold."

"Ah~ You should've been more confident in yourself!" Aventurine chuckles as he begins to shuffle the deck to deal another round. You scowl at the Ace of Clubs in your hand, mocking you at your relinquished defeat. "Is a little intimidation all that's needed to make you submit? You weren't this docile before."

"Shut the fuck up and let's play again." He decides to stifle his laugh for the sake of your nerves.

"Raise." Your win, six of hearts to three of spades.

"Raise." Your win, queen of spades to jack of hearts.

"Fold." Could've been Aventurine's, ace of spades to king of spades.

"Raise." Aventurine's win, eight of clubs to six of hearts.

"Fold." Could've been yours, queen of hearts to 10 of clubs.

"Raise." Aventurine's win, nine of clubs to seven of spades.

Aventurine's practiced hands thumb through the cards as he begins to rearrange them again. His glass wine is almost empty, while yours is untouched. The man knows that you don't drink, so why would he...?

"Last round before one of us wins," Aventurine's voice lilts as he throws you your card. "How about we make it exciting? No one is allowed to fold this round." You frown at him but don't say anything. You cast another chip to the table, and he follows suit.

He has a 10 of spades pressed to his forehead, and your fingers dig deep into your skin.

'Oh please, there's other cards higher than a 10.' You remind yourself, but you gulp down your dry throat as your vision zeroes into his card. 'Jack, Queen, King, Ace. Anything. Please.' Aventurine notices your hurried breathing and smiles knowingly. You gulp whatever cowardice is rising in your throat and throw another chip.

"Raise." Fuck it. If this is the last round, then let's just ball.

He cocks his head, finding the motion unnecessary in this last round. But he sighs with a smile and plays along, casting his chips into the fray, "Then I'll raise too."

"This is the last round," you say, more so to remind yourself.

"Yep." He leans forward on the table and the fluorescent lights cast a shadow over those alluring eyes. "Nervous?"

'How could you say that? How could you taunt me like that? When you were just like me?'

You strengthen your resolve and glare up at him, the fire lighting back up in those blank eyes. "I hope you go to hell."

You throw your card to the middle, with the rest of the chips.

Jack of Clubs.

Aventurine cocks his head at you, smiling as usual.

"Congratulations, pet."

One would expect that Pier Point was the peak embodiment of wealth and luxury, being the base of the Interastral Peace Corporation. But the brightly something shone the darker its shadows.

Aventurine just so happened to like those shadows, even shrugging off those fancy clothes of his just so that he could find solace in those sleazy bars and play rounds of poker with dead-eyed salarymen and recently fired hopefuls.

The surroundings didn't fare any better. Amongst the dying neon lights, Pier Point's worst neighborhoods featured a just as nasty environment. Drunkards lying beside dumpsters with shattered beer bottles around them, cats hissing at each other in a fight for survival, and abandoned children peeking at them around the corner as they lay in wait for an opening.

Aventurine has shedded his elaborate peacock coat in favor of a simple white button-down and slacks. Despite the simplicity, he still looked out of place amongst the rags, though it made people think of him as a fearless idiot rather than run away at the sight of the IPC's elite.

"Mmm, that robin is indeed very plump," the blonde idiot remarks out of nowhere. "Quite out of place for this kind of area."

You pay him very little attention, mindlessly kicking the broken half of a bottle with your heel. It bumps into a smelly bastard who shoots you an irritated look, but quickly cowers when you return it tenfold. "Maybe it's been feeding on the leftovers of you prissy IPC folk," you spat, taking a look at the fat robin for yourself.

He takes no notice of the slight towards his kind and instead cocks his head at the cat slinking around the corner. "Well. Its health has attracted a rather unwelcome predator." He turns to you, with a mischievous smile. "How about we make this round two? Who will die first, the cat or the robin?"

Seriously? You were betting your freedom on something as stupid as this? You consider the cat— snarling, insipid thing, balding and thin as a stick— then the robin, tweeting fearfully at its perch on the graffitied wall. "Am betting on the cat. Could eat the fat thing while you go on another gamble."

He laughs, sliding on his shades as he walks into the seedy bar. "Then I have no choice but to bet on the poor robin. Let's have some fun before we see the results of our bet."

The cat is lying on the ground, heaving its last few breaths. Its yellow eyes are barely peeking out from its eyelids, probably delirious and starving in its last moments. You poke it slightly with your foot.

It meows pitifully. You instantly feel bad.

It might just be the ugliest thing you've laid your eyes on, but even the ugliest creatures deserve some sort of companionship in their last moments. It hisses weakly when you draw your hand close, but it can't do anything but relent as you stroke its hairless head. It purrs a bit, ragged and breathy, but the heaving of its ribbed chest slows as it relaxes.

"Don't do that," you murmur. "Just... just be quiet. It's okay."

The quiet steps of leather shoes stop beside you, and Aventurine watches on in silence as you comfort the dying thing. His gaze moves from the cat to the robin, still perched on top of the wall with his fat little chest and beady eyes. It hasn't moved from its position at all, just... staring and staring.

"So—"

"I know," you murmur, focus still on the poor thing. "I know, okay?"

The fat robin chirps again, tittering with its mocking chirp, before it flies away into the sky.

Your cat closes its eyes shut, and its skinny chest finally slows to a stop.

Aventurine stays with you for a while as you find a nice spot of earth to bury it.

No matter how much you want to believe your preconceived image of the blonde gambler— irresponsible, materialistic, money-wasting— you can't just make up lies about him in your head when all of his missions end on a win for him. Right now, he's heading for another mission in a galaxy far away again. And like always, he's dragged you along whether you like it or not.

"Come on, you like sightseeing other planets!" He laughs on the space warp going there. "Makes your blood pumping, scouting out the possible planets you can run away to."

"If I can run away," you grumble, not wanting to acknowledge him as you stare out the window and into the starry expanse of galaxies and space. This sight has always unnerved you— a reminder of how small and insignificant you are. How small and insignificant this collar hand on your life.

"It's not like you to be such a downer," he huffs. He pats the empty seat beside him. "Come, come. Drink with me. Ah, but no alcohol though. Don't want you trying to bite my entourage as soon as we get off." He's referring to the time that you had two sips of the lightest alcohol the ship had in stock before you absolutely wasted and decided that running away to the next planet was a good idea.

You grunt but sit on the floor next to his feet. He doesn't dare to correct you but only regards you with amusement before handing you a glass of sparkling water. You've always had this weird insistence of maintaining your master-slave status quo, despite abhorring your status as a slave. You followed his commands to the tee no matter how dangerous but refused to budge whenever he insisted on treating you like an equal.

"Don't get me wrong," you had snapped at him angrily one time. "As long as I'm in this stupid collar, I am not your fucking equal. So don't go around treatin' me like one, got it?!"

"You got the briefing, right? I'll be dismantling an underground operation on our next planet, so I'll be making good use of your Spirit Whisper." You sip your drink and make no reaction. "I'm sure you have no complaints about that, right?"

"Like I have a fuckin' choice."

He laughs into his cocktail. "Right. How could I forget?" Your eyes narrow into slits when he threads his thin fingers through your hair, but you don't make any move to remove them. "Unfortunately, this isn't an operation that I can just charm and gamble my way through, so you'll be doing a lot of heavy lifting. But so long as I have you, my dearest pet, I'm sure we'll be done before we know it."

You fight the urge to give into his tender touch, massaging your scalp as he combs your strands, though your eyelids are drooping now. He chuckles fondly when you rest your chin on the sofa, right next to his thigh. Adorable, how easily you succumb to the smallest of physical affection.

"Just take a nap," he hums. "We'll be there before you know it."

Aventurine's lavish outfit is a stark contrast against the nitty and gritty environment of the gambling den the two of you are staking out right now. Some of the men leer at him when he passes by, their faces painted by sweat and malice, and the promiscuous women bat their eyes at him with painted-on sweet smiles. No one bats an eye at the collared servant trailing behind him.

You try not to wince as you accidentally make eye contact with another slave, them kneeling on the ground with only rags to cover them and you have the luxury to look away as you grip the sleeves of your ironed button-down. You decide to just fix your eyes on Aventurine's back for the rest of the journey.

The next room you enter— less room to be honest, and more... coliseum-y— features a fighting ring where the crowd cheers on two dogs circling each other under the fluorescent spotlights. The other one, bigger and scarred, is baring his teeth while bearing a deep red gash across his body. The smaller one is shivering but giving the same energy back, snarling in intimidation while also sporting a noticeable limp. Despite the darkness of the room, you don't miss the way Aventurine's face contorts into disgust as he looks at the fight and surveys the crowd of spectators.

"Disgusting," he murmurs. You don't say anything back, though you doubt he could hear you amidst all this cheering. You used to bet on dogs too, back in the day. It was quick and easy money, and you had better things to worry about than the fate of some mutt.

While you're focused on the pathetic dog show in front of you, he steps to your side and nudges you with his elbow. "Willing to bet?" He asks, eyes focused on the show. "As our third round."

"From the look on your face, I thought you hated this kind of thing."

"I do, but I'm not putting money in the pot like the rest of them. This is strictly between you and me with no money involved." He turns his gaze to you. "So, what about it?"

You study the dogs. They've been circling each other for a while now, and the crowd's been growing more and more agitated by the lack of fighting. You think of the dogs you've bet on before, how the smaller ones had just an equal chance of success at winning as the bigger ones. Unconsciously, you tug at your collar. It matches perfectly with the stupid dogs down below.

"Bet," you huff. "I'm taking the smaller one."

You don't know why. It'd make sense to just bet on the bigger and badder, but maybe it's that ferocity in his eyes even if it's overshadowed by the growling menace that has you feeling for it. It's stupid, you know, betting your freedom on a hunch and emotions. But...

If it could have a chance at winning... then why can't you?

...

... Are you destined to die, just like it?

... Are you destined to die as a slave for another IPC slave?

... Will your death be just as morbid and pathetic as the mongrel, his innards spilling onto the pavement while the winner is pulled away by the collar, with no prize but another day of freedom?

This is round three out of four. You've only won one so far.

The very next round could kill you. Could completely sign away your freedom.

Shit shit shit shit shit. Why'd you have to go feeling sorry for the stupid shit? Why'd you have to empathize with its futile fight? Why'd you have to go see yourself in it? Now you could very much share its fate, dying pathetically serving for people who never cared about you in the first place.

Shit shit shit shit shit. The pressure of the bet has always been at the back of your mind, niggling at your brain. But now you can feel its heavy weight squeezing around your heart, in perfect rhythm with the phantom choking of your collar. If you don't win the next, you could very much—

Something light touches your shoulder and you lurch back like you had been stricken there. It disgusts and scares you, sending both repulsion and fear through your body like maggots wriggling into your system.

With a faltering outstretched palm, Aventurine's eyes widen behind his glasses. He sees something on your face, enough to make him bite down whatever cocky shit he has to say, and turns his back towards you.

"Let's go," he says, just barely audible above the crowd. "We still have a mission to complete.

"This is some silly joke of yours, isn't it?" Aventurine maintains his cool facade, but even then there is disgust in his tone as he speaks to Jade. "Giving a slave to another... you must think this is hilarious."

"Amusing, maybe, but this little one is too precious to let loose in the wild." Jade strokes your head, and while you curse in warning, you don't move to attack. "A user of Spirit Whisper, a rarity even among those in Pteruges-V. Don't you think it'd be better if they served the Amber Lord rather than going back to their pretty crimes?"

"Then give them to someone else." Aventurine turns his back on you and Jade. "Since when did I need help closing a deal?"

"Well, I just thought that you were lonely."

"And you think gifting me a slave of all things would help me?"

"Oh, just give them a chance. I'm sure you'll like this one. Look." Jade raises your chin with a finger, lifting your bruised face to the light. You shoot her a glare, plotting murder in your head, but you don't try to fight back. You might have tried once, probably, and learned your lesson. "Don't you love the fire in their eyes, even after being collared and brutally beaten?"

It is sick. It is sick how Jade can just easily muse about your past abuse to his face. To him. It is sick how the IPC thinks that Aventurine would even be happy about this... gift, let alone accept it.

"I appreciate the... thought." Jade smiles at the barely held back distaste in his voice. "But I'd really rather not."

"Oh, I see..." Jade hums, tilting her head to scrutinize you. "But no one else will accept you since you're too feisty for their liking. So I guess..."

"We'll just have to kill you."

Your face pales. Aventurine has never been quick to turn around.

"Fine. I'll accept," he says with gritted teeth and narrowed eyes. "I'll accept your gift, so just..." He sighs, massaging his temples and waving Jade off. "Go away and let us be."

"Is this some sort of savior complex you have going on?" Despite being a slave, you haven't really learned how to hold that spiteful tongue of yours. Half of the fault lies with Aventurine, seeing how he's never bothered to scold you for it. He looks away from the reports in his hand and smiles at you.

"Oh, whatever do you mean, my dear pup?" Your bitter scowl is pushed down even further at his sweet tone and you scoff.

"I mean," you say, gesturing all around you. "You never scold me, you give me good food, you do all these nice things for me. You don't beat and lash at me like others do. Are you feeling sorry? As one slave to another?"

"Personally, I've never heard of a slave complain about treating this well."

"It's weird." You frown. "It's weird and creepy. All these niceties yet I can tell that you don't even mean half of 'em. Your heart isn't in it. You're just doing it for the sake of being nice. So I don't get it." You cross your arms and lean on the couch, deep in thought. "If you don't even mean it, why even bother?"

Aventurine hums, studying your silent and pondering figure before returning to his papers. You don't follow up your complaints with anything else, and the two of you are left to stew in the silence.

... Why even bother indeed?

"Last round and you only have one win, pup." His sickly sweet voice croons, tapping his perfect nails on the table as he watches your expression. "Are you excited?"

Normally you'd bite back, but today you thickly swallow. The looming sense of doom continues to hammer into the back of your skull, spiking your nerves with every beat and shaking your senses. You can barely feel your fingers. You can barely feel except for the fear coiling around your heart.

"... Yes." You can't even barely say a syllable.

Through the rushing blood of your ears, you can barely make out the sound of your master rummaging through something. Something metallic clicks into place and he slides it to the center of the table. You will yourself to look up—

A shiny revolver lies on the table.

A surprised cry elicits from your mouth and you jolt back. The sight of a weapon is enough to startle your poor nerves now and even more so the expectant look glinting in Aventurine's eyes. He smirks and leans forward.

"How about I make an offer you can't refuse?" Not that you were in a position to do so. "Since this is the fourth round, how about we go all in?"

"Russian Roulette. Whoever wins stays alive—"

—And the other lays dead in a puddle of their own blood.

It goes unsaid, but the moment you locked eyes with Aventurine, it was clear that the both of you were thinking of the same thing. You could ponder upon why the Aventurine would stake his own life over something so trivial as your freedom, but you aren't thinking anymore. All you want is your freedom. All you want is to get away.

You don't think further as you wrap your fingers around the handle of the gun and press it to your temple. You pull the trigger. Only a clean click follows, the chamber changing cases. You slide the gun over to him.

He calmly picks it up and slots it to his temple too. "Why are you so desperate to get away from me, pup?" He cocks his head. "I would give you everything you ask for, should you just ask. I treat you with care and as a friend. Is being with me so bad you'd put your life on the line for your freedom?"

He pulls the trigger. Nothing happens. He slides it over to you.

"Even if you go back to your old life, what would be the point? You'll go back to stealing whatever you can off nobles, treating your fellow street rats like fools and pawns before dashing off to your next victim. Would that give you happiness? Fulfillment? Is that the life you prefer instead of being next to me?"

"Sh... Shut up." You sound drained, but he presses on.

"You can have it all, in the price of a collar. Does it not sound good enough to you?"

'Why... Why of all people is he...'

"Do you really hate being owned by me?"

"Why are you..." You choke on your words, grip around the handle trembling. "Why are you saying those things?"

Aventurine has never seen you cry. Not once. Not even when he had to punish you for running away. You could be weak and beaten, but you never willingly cried. But now...

He raises a hand to cover his smile.

"I thought... I thought you of all people would understand." Tears drop to your lap and your hand lowers the gun from your temple. "The pain, the humiliation of being a slave, of being owned. It doesn't matter how nice you are to me. I just want to be free. Shouldn't that be enough?"

Silence overtakes the room as Aventurine takes in the unfamiliar sight before him. Here you were, his greatest treasure, the most vulnerable than you ever were. Sobbing and weeping with a gun in hand, the pressure of the bet finally getting to you.

He moves. "... So this is it? For your pride?"

You wince, looking at him in betrayal. "You... I thought you of all people would at least understand..." You stay silent, the words forming on your tongue but too afraid to sound them out. Then your expression twists into anger, then resolute determination, before you wipe away your tears and glare at him like you always did. "I was wrong. You're scum. Just like the rest of 'em."

The moment the head of the gun points at his head, the collar clamps down and chokes you till your throat cracks and bleeds. The current of electricity crackling your nerves is just as painful and torturous as last time, but you grit your bloodied teeth and press the gun further.

Aventurine looks dazed, staring up into your bloodied face. If you weren't in such agonizing pain you would have laughed at how stupid he looks.

"[Y. Name]..."

"I hope you go to hell," you hiss through the bloody pain. "And I hope that when I get there, I'll never have to fucking see you again."

You pull the trigger to that beautiful face of his, but nothing happens once again. Fuck. It falls to the ground as the pain overwhelms you and you finally stagger. It lays among the specks of blood on the carpet, along with its empty... case...

Your eyes flick to Aventurine, still caught off guard and staring at you with wide eyes. Hesitantly, he reaches out to your convulsing body and cradles your head. "[Y. Name]..." He says, still sounding dazed. "Why would you..."

"Fuckin'... coward..." You grit out. "I was right... from the very start..."

Aventurine watches as you succumb to the pain and collapse in his arms. Despite being unconscious, the collar continues to shock and choke you, and more and more blood spouts from the side of your mouth and into the carpet. He tries to wipe it, despite it continuing like a fountain, before giving up and stroking your hair as the pain continues to intrude on you in your sleep.

"I know," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your eyelid. "You know it as well as me." He presses a kiss onto the other.

"You were never a bet I was willing to wager."