#penacony is already so dark

[minnieposting]

i want to talk about robins trailer again!

following up from this post + a cool thread i saw earlier compiling lots of details i didn't notice in the trailer! (and the morse code post)

mostly really interested in the fact that this whole thing is filmed and directed by sunday

(sc from twt thread)

i said earlier that robin must feel like she doesn't want to let down both sunday and the family, both as his sister and the "pride of the family". but this clearly shows that he's the one pulling the strings, or at least one of them.

(as i type this out, i realize the usage of "pulling the strings" could relate back to the imagery of puppets we've been seeing. they are present in robin's trailer and also seen in the 2.2 penacony trailer)

(and of course, another puppet on strings...)

not sure where i'm going with this because tbh i got side tracked because i had the realization while writing. just some cool consistent puppet imagery, obviously symbolic, just don't feel like thinking about this rn lol

ANYWAY, my original train of thought was going towards sunday being a huge pressure on her, whether intentionally or not, he's clearly got his own shit going on... but i also feel like this gives new meaning to something else i pointed out a bit ago (post)

sunday is always right behind robin! she's always in the spotlight while he looms in the shadows. another thing tho, the same person who posted that twt thread i linked to pointed out that our bird friend is seen in the corner watching robin perform (x)

in the upper right corner!

(though, ive seen speculation that the bird is not sunday's but the dreammaster's! either way, sunday is still the most involved with her in the context of my post...)

now, going back to what i really want to talk about in the first place - director sunday. i do think this is more symbolic than anything, and coming from robin's perspective as this is her trailer.

sunday is a perfectionist obsesed with control and robin's public image may not be spared from that. she may feel that sunday is essentially breathing down her neck, whether or not sunday is aware he's making her feel like this. i've always thought that sunday's perfectionism and his obsessiveness have bled into his love for his sister and their relationship as a whole. again, she clearly does not want to let him down specifically, especially when they're supposedly working towards a childhood dream.

it's just! this whole thing about freedom, or the lack of it. robin is a caged bird and that's become explicit in her trailer. who knows wtf sunday's deal is, but he's also clearly under SO much pressure, he's the head of the oak family and ALSO needs to be nothing less than perfect. dude had a whole speech about it. i also imagine they both don't talk about any negative feelings related to this, maybe even wanting to keep up appearances around each other too.

i feel like i dont have anything else to say. i just mainly wanted to talk about some observations and stuff. i am very much looking forward to 2.2 coming out later, im SO excited to dig into sunday because he is the most intriguing and mysterious to me. their relationship is just so so so interesting, im so excited to see it in all of its glory later.

and mandatory note bc i am an anxious person, i do a lot of talking out of my ass and this is just exactly that.

(uh i scrolled up to read this post over and saw i linked back to a morse code post and didn't talk about that at all. well there's SOS morse code in robins trailer! that's fucked up! what else can i say)

[milksnake-tea]

━━ say you still dare to dream .

Sunday has lost everything. His status, his home, his sister, all of it has slipped through his fingers, all for a failed attempt at salvation. Now imprisoned and destined to live his life in shameful shadow, you, his former subordinate, appear to offer him one last chance of redemption.

sunday x gn!reader

contains: aftermath of 2.3, depression, sunday at his lowest

word count: 1.5k

a/n: depressed sunday is my favorite sunday. like damn bro you got BROKEN ig this is what being rammed by a train 8 times does to a man... ANYWAYS. DONT TAKE THIS TOO SERIOUSLY THIS IS JUST ME DOING SOME WRITING PRACTICE WITH BEING DRAMATIC hunches over and dies

taglist: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace , @flurrina

“I can only allow you a few minutes at most,” says the woman in purple.

A devil in velvet, that was what they called her. Although she may not look like much - from a distance, you’d mistake her as yet another filthy rich vacationer of Penacony - up close, her snake-like eyes and elegantly poised stature, always ready to strike unsuspecting prey, told you just how dangerous she was.

Lady Bonajade, the Stoneheart of Credit and the most deranged loan shark the galaxy had to offer. She who does the impossible and creates miracles for the price of one’s livelihood.

She, who is currently the master who holds the life of the fallen Oak Family Head in her perfectly manicured hands.

You meet her chilling gaze with steeled eyes. With a deep breath, you force down the lodge in your throat.

“I understand.”

Jade smiles. It is neither threatening nor comforting, although you cannot help but feel unsettled by her calm amusement.

“Most of the Family has turned their back on Mr. Sunday,” she comments, crossing her arms and tapping one nail against her arm. “Why haven’t you, I wonder? Surely, a mere subordinate wouldn’t be so loyal to a traitor of this degree.”

You know better than to answer her. After all, all of her questions are rhetorical - tests. She already knows their answers, she just wants to hear them come from your lips.

But you don’t give her that satisfaction. Your silence is answer enough.

You walk past her and come before a heavily armored vault door. A bit much, in your opinion, for a man who has spent the majority of his life asleep. But he is also the man who had taken control of the Asdana system and nearly ascended into Aeonhood, so this level of security is to be expected.

Hundreds of locks and gears turn before the doors open with a hiss and a billowing of smoke. With a mental prayer to Xipe for strength, you step into the dark cell.

There’s little to no light in the small room, leaving you to wonder how Sunday had managed to stay sane all this time. You already know the cells are essentially soundproof, and with so little light, the Family’s prisoners were shut off from the rest of the world and their senses.

The brief rustle of chains catches your attention, and you turn your gaze to the iron throne at the center of the room.

Oh, how far he has fallen.

Once gleaming gold has lost its luster, reflecting not sympathy nor love like you had known them to, but defeat and a resigned acceptance. Fair skin has become drained and faded like that of a corpse. Feather-like hair, once so meticulously cared for, is ruined and frayed.

Bound are the hands that would never raise against another, and shackled are the wings that have never known flight. Caged is the bird who has known no other home; only now, his gilded shackles have become sullied, ugly, disdainful.

He is hollow, empty in every sense of the word - drained of what little vitality he once had.

“Sir,” comes your whisper. He doesn’t respond.

Your footsteps are heavy as you approach. Sunday’s head is bowed - something his pride would’ve never allowed back in the day.

Once upon a time, you had found his arrogance annoying, hypocritical even. Yet at the same time, it was endearing, knowing that even the perfect and saint-like Sunday had his faults. In a sense, it had brought him down to earth, it had made him human.

Seeing him like this, so despondent and defeated, makes you long for the days where he’d scoff at the IPC or make back-handed compliments for his own sick pleasure.

“Sir,” you repeat. You stop before him, and kneel down to one knee.

Sunday’s eyes flick to meet yours, before dropping down to his lap, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. Out of guilt, or out of scorn, you don’t know.

“Why have you come?”

Your heart aches at his voice. It cracks from the days without use, deeper than his typical chirp.

“I am a sinner, a traitor to the Family.” Not once does he meet your gaze again as he speaks. “Visiting me…”

He exhales.

“You should leave.”

“I won’t.”

His hands clench from where they’re bound to the arms of his throne. Briefly, annoyance flashes over him, before he lets it wash away with a slump of his shoulders.

“It would be easier if you just- left me here,” he says painstakingly. “I am of no use to you anymore - if anything, I am a stain. Abandoning me… is the logical thing to do.”

“You and your logistics,” you sigh. “Did it never once occur to you that I cared for you as a person, and not just as my superior?”

His eyes are shaking. Sunday’s expression is pained, like that of a grieving mother.

“Why?” he asks again, his face straining as he tries to understand. “Why are you here?”

Your answer is simple. “To free you.”

Bitterly, the corners of his lips twitch in a cynical chuckle.

“You of all people should know that I was not meant for freedom,” he mutters.

You shake your head. “That is what you believe. Lady Bonajade and I agree that you deserve to have this chance.”

“Lady Jade, huh?” Resentment flashes in his irises as he scoffs. “So you intend to coerce me into accepting charity from the IPC?”

Hurt pangs at your chest and you flinch. “That isn’t-”

“Spare me the concern,” Sunday spits, turning his head. “I may have fallen, but I still have my pride. If that’s all you have to say, you can leave.”

For a moment, you are speechless. Then you are indignant, and you rise slightly, your brows furrowed.

“Why are you so willing to accept your fate?” you ask, almost angrily.

Sunday exhales. “What else am I expected do?”

“This can’t be how your story ends." Your fist balls up the fabric of your pants in its grip. “Locked away, isolated from the rest of the world - that can’t be what you want. It is too cruel a fate for you.”

For you, who loved humanity so deeply.

“Tell me,” you say, gazing up at the man who had torn his skin and carved his heart for the people. “Tell me you want to be freed, and I will do so. I’ll take care of everything. All I need is for you to say that you want it.”

He shakes his head, his eyes squeezing shut.

“I don’t understand,” he whispers after a moment of silence. “Why, for me…”

“What is there to understand?”

“This is unreasonable,” he starts.

“Not for me, it isn’t,” you say softly. “If it’s for you, nothing is unreasonable.”

His voice raises, trembling upon its crumbling pedestal, panic seeping into every word. “I don’t deserve that kindness - that mercy. I am a sinner, I am a traitor, I am-”

“You are a man worth saving.”

Sunday’s eyes fly open. He stares at you, eyes wide with surprise, his lips parted as to say something, only for the words to die on his tongue.

Your neck is beginning to hurt from how long you’ve been looking up at him, but you push the pain aside.

“The Sunday I knew was kind and gentle,” you say, subconsciously leaning forward. Pent-up emotions, cumulated through the years, begin to bleed into your voice, weighing it down. “He always looked out for the weak, and cared when no one else did. He put others before himself, and even if he was a little arrogant, he was selfless.”

“No,” Sunday protests weakly. “I am not- You- I-”

“You are so much more than you allow yourself to be.”

Rising from the floor, your knees aching slightly, you gently take the face of the fallen angel in your hand. Cradling him like glass, you force him to look at you, to look one of the many he’d betrayed in the face, and see the love for him despite it all.

“Sunday, do you wish for freedom?”

For the many years you’ve worked under him, his eyes have always been a cold gem, calm and unfettered. Never have you seen them glossy with tears, threatening to break at any moment.

You see fear and desire clashing as he grapples for the first time, a choice not for the people, but for himself. You see the beliefs that have been molded into him beginning to crack. You see the caged bird gaze at the world beyond his bars, and for the first time, want to soar beyond them.

Sunday’s lips open and close as he struggles to find the right words to say.

“Where will I go?” he asks instead, tearing his gaze away. It is answer enough.

You smile softly.

“Anywhere you desire.”

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[kafnixc]

Pairing : GP!Dom!Acheron x Sub!Fem!reader

Warnings! : Fingering, Overstimulation, Jealous sex, Crying, Mentions of blood(Biting), Creampie, Semi public sex

Author's note : I'am crazy for this woman, y'all don't understand the things I'd let this woman do to me

MEN & MINORS DNI

During your visit to penacony with your lover, whom hides her identity with the title Galaxy Ranger, Acheron you came across a memokeeper named Black Swan and you two got close real quick, well.. too close to Acheron's liking

"(Reader).. don't you think you're being too close with, that memokeeper? I don't trust her" Acheron spoke in a firm tone while wrapping an arm around your waist, resting her head on your shoulder "Black Swan? There's no need to get cautious around her love, she's a very sweet person" you replied with a smile, but you only received a scoffed from her

"You shouldn't trust people here in Penacony so easily, you don't know their actual intentions." She said before pulling you closer

Unfortunately, your romantic time was cut short when the memo keeper showed up "(Reader)! Come with me, is it fine if I show you something?" Black swan said with a small grin on her lips, offering her hand to you "O-Oh! Of course" you replied, breaking away from Acheron, but before you could even get away, she grabbed your arm stopping you from leaving "(Reader) is busy." Acheron said in a low tone, eyes narrowing at the sight of the Memokeeper.

"Is that so?" A giggle escapes from Black Swan, as she then sighed and waved her hand dismissively "A shame then.. I'll leave you two be, see you around, (Reader)"

"..You, we need to talk" Acheron firmly said, before dragging you away from the busy crowd of Penacony and to a dark alleyway

"Aeons! A-Acheron..!" A whine escapes your lips, as two.. no, three slim fingers roughly pumps in and out of your already soaked entrance, slick dripping down to the ground while you hold onto the Galaxy Ranger for dear life

"You seem to be getting too close with that memokeeper.. are you forgetting about me?" Her fingers hit that spongy spot inside you, causing your legs to buckle barely keeping yourself up as your third orgasm comes crashing down

"N-No m'sorry..! N-No more.. m'sorry.." You sobbed out, gripping onto her shoulders to support yourself from falling, as her fingers continuously pistons your insides in a rather.. rough pace.

"No more..? But your pussy is telling me the opposite thing." A chuckle escapes the Galaxy Ranger's lips, as her pace intensified curling her fingers on that spongy area, earning a cry from you while your walls grips on those slim fingers as your fourth orgasm crashes over you

After a few moments of haziness, you felt her fingers retreating from your soaked folds. You thought it was over, not until you heard a sound of a zipper.. Your eyes widened at the sight of the Galaxy Ranger's erection

"Wait wait.. w-we're still going?" You said in a nervous tone, which only made her grin mischievously "I never said we're done, did I?" Replied Acheron before lifting you up, you gasped and immediately wrapped your legs around her hips, gripping her shoulders for more support

"Let me remind you.. who you belong to" Without a warning, she slammed her whole length inside you, earning a scream from you but she quickly covered your mouth "Silence, there's people wandering around you know, might I remind you that we're not in a secluded area."

Oh.. that's right, you two weren't in a room, in fact.. you two were just outside, in an alleyway, where people can always look if there's something going on. But instead of feeling fear, that somehow turned you on even more but you couldn't bring yourself to admit such.

Her cock filled you up to the brim, and at the mere length of it caused tears to well up in your eyes, you can feel it stretching you up while her hips slammed into you repeatedly in an animalistical pace.

"A-Acheron— Acheron.." you cried her name out like a prayer, then a gasp escapes your lips as you felt her bite your neck, and gods it felt good.. her teeth sinks into your soft supple flesh, drawing a little blood which causes you to squirm

"Fuck.. (Reader) you feel so good.." a whimper escapes from the Galaxy Ranger's lips, gripping your hips as she pushes you further against the wall and gritting her teeth as her pace quickened.

Tears spilled from your eyes as you felt your fifth orgasm coming, you roll your eyes back and your walls clenched her cock earning a grunt from the Galaxy Ranger as your orgasm crashes down once more

After a few more thrusts, Acheron whimpered before painting your insides white, filling you up to the brim with hot cum. She held you close while thrusting slowly, trying to help you ride out your high

When you recover from your high, Acheron placed a kiss to your lips while wiping your tears away "Are you alright dove?.." You noticed the look of concern in her eyes, you smiled before nodding "I'm fine, don't worry.."

At the sound of your reassurance, Acheron's gaze softened, before leaning in as she whispers in your ear "Good.. I'll give you some time to recover, then we go again."

Your eyes widened at her words, a shiver running down your spine and you think to yourself.. this is gonna be a long night.

[draconic-desire]

DD’s Yandere Poll Series: Surviving the Yan!Penacony Boys (based on this post)

Rules/warnings: Read the below scenario and pick your answer or comment your own reaction. Dark content ahead!

Incident #3 — The Interrogation

Bright light floods your vision, eliciting a hiss as you repeatedly blink to regain your senses. Shielding your eyes is useless; your hands are pinned tightly behind your back, your wrists already starting to throb.

Once your eyes adjust, you find yourself tied to a chair, arms and legs bound to the wooden frame with thick rope. A few tugs and attempted kicks lead you to quickly relent that your bindings aren’t budging.

Shaking the fuzz from inside your head, you examine your surroundings.

While most of the room is cloaked in shadows, your chair is illuminated with a bright spotlight, highlighting the laminated flooring beneath your feet. Directly in front of you stands a long bar, perched upon a podium to elevate any individual behind it. The room is completely bare otherwise, giving a cold, clinical appearance.

How in the Aeons’ names did I end up here?

“Ah, you’ve finally regained your senses.”

You jolt, the voice to your left sending gooseflesh across your skin. It’s deep, full of condescension and authority, and almost certainly male. Sweat trickles down your neck.

Confirming your suspicions, a tall, muscular figure steps from the shadows beside you.

Your already rapid heartbeat skyrockets. Despite his scowl, the man is undeniably handsome—golden eyes to complement his dark purple locks, full lips and strong, toned arms on display thanks to his single-sleeved attire. You’d typically be blushing as he grips the back of your chair with one arm and leans down close to your face, if it weren’t for the unwelcome and compromising position you’re in.

You struggle to swallow. “I—um, sir, there must be some mistake—”

“You are (Y/n) (L/n), are you not?” he interrupts. His breath, minty with a touch of sage, tickles your nose as he closes the gap between the two of you even further.

“Um, yes…?” You cringe at how pathetic you sound, but really, how else are you supposed to react when a stranger has you apparently kidnapped and tied up?

The man rolls his eyes. “Come now, at least admit to your own name. If you can’t do that, how can you own up to the consequences of your actions?”

Head spinning, you ignore the fact that you think he just implied you’re stupid to instead focus on his latter comment. Despite your situation, you can’t help the spark of indignation that rages in your chest. Maybe that’s what makes you stupid: your sharp tongue. “Excuse me? Consequences? Are you lecturing me? And how do you know my name? Who even are you? Why am I here?”

Tilting his head slightly, the man lets a subtle smile pull at his lips. “Finally asking the right questions.” He stands and paces behind the podium in front of you, appearing like a judge presiding over court.

“My name is Dr. Veritas Ratio, and you, (Y/n), are my wife.”

You jerk back like you’ve been hit. That is certainly not what you were expecting.

A startled laugh escapes you. “I don’t have a husband.”

Ratio hums in response, jotting down something in a book he pulled from his robes. “And what is the last thing you remember before you woke up here?”

“Woah, woah, are we just going to glance over the fact that you’re claiming we’re married?!” you shout, panic creeping into your bones. So not only have you been kidnapped, but the individual holding you is also insane. Great. “I’ve never seen you before in my life!”

A deep sigh fills the room, followed by the sound of lead scratching against paper. A low mumble that you can barely discern contemplates, “Perhaps the dosage was too high this time? Such an amnestic response is unusual… Could a physical stimulus be required to invigorate her hippocampus?”

The damn man is treating you like a science project!

Before you can retort, he pulls out two small vials of liquid, both no larger than your thumb. He sets them down on the table before you and gestures to each individually.

“You now have a choice. Drinking this,” he motions to the right, at the vial possessing a golden liquid flecked with sparkling, iridescent particles, “will restore your memories. You’ll remember me, and everything that led up to this point.”

Remember him? Did he drug you into forgetting, and this was the next step in his experiment? If what he claims is true, why would a husband ever do that to his wife? Your head throbs.

“Or, choose this vial,” he points to the lefthand bottle, a concoction so dark it mirrors the midnight sky, “and you will forget everything and get to walk out that door shortly after.”

Your eyes narrow at him. Surely there was some sort of catch. His language was too vague to be of any comfort at all.

“Why are you making me choose at all? This all seems like one really fucked up joke.” You tug at your bindings again, letting out a growl of frustration.

Ratio pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “You’re lucky I’ve grown so fond of you that I can overlook your insipid questioning. You will choose.”

“And what happens when I do? Surely it’s not as simple as remembering you or being freed. You don’t seem like a man who would go to all the trouble. What’s in this for you other than forcing me to be your little lab rat?”

After a pregnant pause, Ratio clucks his tongue. “Fine. I suppose it doesn’t matter if I give away the answers. You’re clearly not thinking straight.” He places his notebook down and picks up a vial in each hand, holding the small things between his thumb and index fingers.

“The gold bottle here will completely restore your memories. You want to know the whole truth about us? How you ended up in this room? Why it’s not the first time we’ve had this conversation?” Your breath hitches; what did he mean not the first time. “Then drink this one. It will probably give you a leg up, since you’ll recall all those past times you tried oh so fruitlessly to escape me.”

He then raises his opposite hand as your horror builds. “Alternatively, this vial will completely wipe your memories, but only of me. You’ll recall everything about yourself, your life, hobbies, et cetera…but in doing so, you will be helpless the next time we meet. You will have no defenses, and one way or another, you will be my wife again. That much has already been proven true.”

The floor falls from underneath you. Aeons, how many times have you taken that midnight liquid? How many times have you been in this very scenario, drugged into forgetting him, only for him to court you time and time again. Clearly you must reject him each time, but he’s so lost in his obsession that he has to reset you each time you try to flee. The thought makes you immediately nauseous.

Despite your dry throat, you manage to croak out, “And if I refuse to take either?”

Ratio’s expression darkens, his chin tipped up haughtily. “Don’t test my patience, (Y/n).”

You gulp, eyes flicking back and forth between this two hands. You must choose.

[nvuy]

an ode to a nightingale — sunday

summary. you were never anything. sunday begs to differ, in his own twisted way.

notes. a thing i did as an experiment and also as a little gift to a special someone (you know who you are) because we both enjoy staring at this guy's face. he's a funky little dude and a massive green flag. 100%.

i redownloaded hsr and i’ve started penacony. i have no idea what’s going on. it’s probably because i’ve been stuck staring at dr ratio’s boob window the whole time. i’m like a toddler watching cocomelon. i cant look away.

warnings. mdni, for safety. implied explicit content, dark themes, manipulation, sunday is a controlling dickhead, you’re an implied streetwalker, yandere themes, insulting, threatening, possessiveness, mentions of kidnapping, gaslighting, obsessiveness, lots of nice stuff like that. please let me know if i've missed anything!

“What do you want from me?”

You looked in the mirror as you spoke, and you saw some pathetic state of a person staring back at you. Behind the edges of the golden vanity was the outline of the filled bathtub with steam wafting from the surface.

And him.

You watched as he sank into the water with a satisfied gleam on his face.

You refused to linger on the scratch marks that left gorgeous red and white lines down his arms, and his chest, and his spine.

It smelled like coconut. Coconut and dusted sugar on creamy pastry. And the clogging smell of mascara.

It smudged down your cheeks, and your lips were ruined and swollen, and your skin was painted in purple bruises and teeth marks.

And you were sore. Every part of your body was aching.

Sunday was leaning against the edge of the tub, staring at you through his lashes. He always preferred his baths boiling, as if he wanted to melt his skin off. Usually, he’d bring a book with him and read it during his off time when given the chance.

He didn’t answer.

“You’ve changed,” he said instead. His voice echoed off of the white tiles in the bathroom.

“I look the same as the night you took me off the streets,” you murmured. “Like a whore.”

Sunday hummed. “Is that how you see yourself?” The wings extending from his ears dipped below the water for a moment. “A ‘whore?’”

You didn’t want to turn to face him.

It was difficult enough to hold his unwavering gaze in the mirror.

“You’re not denying it.”

“Because I think you look damaged.” He was honest this time, and there was bitterness swelling with his tone. He instinctively fluttered his feathers to dry them off.

“By your design.” You were speaking of how he made it his duty to ruin your skin with his teeth.

“What I’ve done to you is nothing. You had already ruined yourself by offering your body to those disgusting animals before I had ever even laid my eyes on you.” He waved his hand as if he meant no harm with his words. “I’ve merely saved you.”

Your jaw clenched.

He fluttered his lashes at you in the mirror and sighed.

What a pretty sight.

“‘Saved me?’” you repeated hoarsely. You tried not to claw at your skin in frustration. You willed yourself not to lunge at him and puncture his eyes from his skull. “Do me a favour and save me from your arrogance next. You’re deluded if you think trapping me in your bedroom is praiseworthy.”

He smiled.

“Think of it this way: a bird is much safer trapped in a cage than free to the winds.” The smell of coconut and sugared powder made your head spin. Of course, he would use the soaps and creams you wore when he first met you. The smell was engraved into his mind like a branding.

Although covered by a robe, you felt vulnerable. His gaze held strong. You weren’t sure if he was even blinking.

Sunday seemed too relaxed. Your freedom was a joke to him; what is freedom if you’re too busy giving your body to strangers? Did you want to go back to that life?

“You want me to get in the tub just so you can humiliate me,” you accused with a dangerous flash of your teeth.

You wanted to sound angry. You wanted to sound furious, but it was only a pitiful whimper of a phrase. You felt pathetically weak.

He was quick to answer, “I did not request your company.” He patted the book with golden edges that sat on a ledge of the bathtub. You didn’t want to ask of its contents. “You came here of your own fruition. You felt lonely.”

“You think you know everything about me.”

“But of course.” Sunday plucked the book from the ledge, careful not to wet the pages as he turned to the page he’d marked. “You are mine, after all.”

His tone was light. Confident.

Your face was burning. “Fuck you.”

Who even were you? Who were you next to him?

Nothing, was the appropriate answer. He insisted otherwise, though he’d never given you a definitive answer of what you were. He’d never explicitly stated you to be a whore, disobedient, disrespectful, too independent for your own good.

Everything you hated to hear about yourself, even if it was all true.

He’d only tut and usher you away with a wave of his hand.

You’re his, as well.

His teeth in your skin, his feathers tickling your neck, his wandering fingers that crept below your navel. He’s stained your skin with his. It’s hard to wash off—even harder when he shares the same soaps as you.

Perhaps he knows this, and that’s why he hopes you share a bath with him.

So you’re reminded that there’s a chain around your ankle.

“You’re a fuckin’ hypocrite, y’know. You think you’re so high and mighty, and yet you’re naked and pining after some street whore. And then you insist that I belong to you, but also beg for me beneath your own sheets.” But that wasn’t true.

As soon as the words left your lips you screwed your eyes shut and you leaned over the vanity.

His smile only grew, and the tip of his tongue touched the sharp edge of his canines.

Your fingers curled around the edge of the marble countertop.

Here he was, vulnerable. Susceptible to a swift slice of a blade to his neck, to being held beneath the surface of the water until he stopped flailing.

And you’re still so afraid of him.

He reads you like the book in his hands.

Sunday cooed. “Just like water, you are destructible, easily poisoned, and ever changing. You are lost, entrapped within four walls, so desperate to escape, but you cannot think for yourself.”

You furrowed your brows.

He turned the page of his book. The water sloshed as his arms moved.

The smell of coconut was hurting your head.

“You speak in tongues because you’re scared of ruining your perfect image,” you said. “You’re just an insecure little boy who's stuck in a daydream.”

That forced his head to turn. He almost snapped his book shut. Instead, his fingers froze on the edges of the crisp paper.

Then, he let out a hearty laugh.

“Allow me to rephrase: your beauty is wicked. It is rotten, vile, and evil.” The sweet scent of sugar was a cruel joke. It juxtaposed everything that spilled from his filthy lips. “Your blood is muddied and ruined. You’ve allowed strangers to see your skin.

“You’re lucky I’ve tolerated your behaviour for this long. If you were anybody else, you would have lost your foul tongue after our first night together.”

The way he said it all made you feel so much smaller than you were.

You finally turned around to face him. The reflection in the mirror made the bathtub seem further away than it actually was.

The tub was in the centre of the room, craved meticulously from a blue crystal. To you, it closely resembled aquamarine. It was big enough to be considered a swimming pool if you removed the golden faucet, but you refrained from insulting his fussy craftsmanship and adding fuel to the fire.

Sunday was particular about everything; sizing, shapes, colours. Everything had to match, everything had to make sense, everything had to be perfect and presentable. Any faults or flaws were dealt with swiftly, whether that be a person or an object. You weren’t sure if you were considered one or the other.

Then came the specifics. A ledge for placing things, voids in the walls for storing soaps, adequate cupboards, flooring, walls, forms, everything.

Aeons forbid you dropped a glass and scratched the precious tiling.

And he was particular about you, though he never clearly stated what he wanted from you.

He wanted you. That was clear from how he would coax you to join him with gentle words and fleeting touches. How he would stain your skin and leave an imprint of your body on his bedsheets.

Anything other than that was muddled, muddied, lost in his own deluded mind.

“What do you want from me?” you asked him again.

Sunday fluttered his lashes at you. “Nothing at all.”

“Have you ever told the truth?”

You had instinctively drawn yourself closer to him. You leaned over the tub, fingers curled around the rim of crystal.

Sunday sighed. He looked sick, like delusion had twisted through his mind like poison ivy crawling along the walls of the gardens outside. “You are afraid of the truth.”

“You’re lying again.” He wasn’t lying, but you refused to make him feel as though he was in control.

That was he fed off.

Your fear, your touch, your taste, your words, every inch of your skin. His. All of it.

“I want everything,” he stated.

You wanted to break the tub and slit his throat with the shards of crystal.

“I want you to give yourself to me. All of yourself.”

How selfish of him.

He still views you as an offering.

You turned away and moved to storm out of the bathroom. You would wait until he was finished. You couldn’t be in the room with him.

The steam was burning your skin, and your scent on him was making your head feel like it was splitting apart.

He grabbed your face and forced you to look back.

You would have described his eyes as beautiful; golden irides with hints of plush velvet and a deep sapphire. But all he did was stare. He’d never look away, and he never wished to.

He saw things you did not.

“I want undying loyalty.” When you squirmed, he held your cheeks harder. “I want hopeless devotion. I want compassion. I want to see the silhouette of you in my bed first thing every morning.”

Your nails were frozen digging into his wrist, still wet and hot from the water.

He seemed as though he wished to say more, though refrained when he let go of your face. He’d abandoned his book now, his gaze remaining locked onto you.

Your cheeks stung from his fingerprints. You feared the patterns would be burned into your flesh.

“I want you to stop,” you whispered.

You knew what he was doing.

“Oh, I will.” This time, when his fingers raised for your face, he simply grazed them along your sore cheek. “Join me.”

You didn’t answer at first. You didn’t even move from your spot, frozen as if he’d drawn ice down your spine.

You breathed out. Your fingers were trembling.

“I’m not stupid,” you said. You were trying to convince yourself it was true.

Sunday only tilted his head. “No, you’re not stupid.”

He was already pulling the string of the bow around your waist. His wings bristled.

“I know what you’re doing,” you insisted, holding onto the fluffy material when he undid the knot holding the robe together. “I know what you’re doing.”

He smiled playfully. His hands pushed away the robe. “What am I doing?”

Your eyes welled with tears.

You don’t know what he’s doing. You are stupid.

You wished you’d never met him. You wished you’d never let soft hands and kind words and those pretty eyes of his draw you into his bed.

You shouldn’t have ever crawled back to him.

You let out a pathetic sob.

“Oh, you sweet thing.”

Sunday tutted pitifully and offered his hand.

Almost instinctively, as if it had been written in your blood since the moment you were born, you took it and leaned into his embrace.

His hair smelled of sugared tea. The feathers of his wings grazed over your face, now soaked with your tears.

He gently drew you into the water, murmuring something bordering on praise. You didn’t even hear what he said.

“I will make you all better.”

The water was hot. His lips on your cheek made you dizzy. The mirror had completely steamed up by now, and your chest pressed flush against his.

You tried to push him off you. You tried. You really did. You’d done this before, many times. Letting him break you down and watching as you lost control of your limbs and clawed at him until he held you.

He was good at that. Predicting. Letting things form the way they always did.

You were so angry. Angry at yourself, at him, at everything. Weakly, you curled your fists and hit his shoulders defeatedly. You heard him laugh.

All you did was betray yourself, surrendering and stilling as his cold hands dipped below the water.

“I will make you whole again.”

[tonkatsubowl]

misdemeanor.

▼ sunday x fem!reader

▼ yandere themes. triggering themes. nsfw themes. mdni.

▼ you got kidnapped. (since idk sunday's moveset or anything i just pulled something out of my ass)

sunday's reputation was well-known. his face was everywhere, and the knowledge that he was one of the family's greatest members was, well... well-known. because of this, you were given your own reputation, too, for being constantly seen by his side at all costs.

the family was known to harbor an immense amount of money, and there were rumors that if you stole a certain amount of money digitally, you'd wake up from the dreamscape and have that money in your account still. but was that possible? to steal something from the dreamscape and wake up with it?

...but digitally? would that actually happen?

some people chose to fuck around and find out.

unfortunately, you were the chosen victim for this crime.

the one time you weren't by sunday's side, life decided to choose you of all people to be... toyed with.

you were wandering through the streets of penacony by yourself. you wanted to admire the scenes of the night sky, and enjoy the festivities that occurred throughout the festive night. women, children, men and their families spent time together, giggling and laughing harmoniously as they gathered around, enjoying the moment of happiness that they shared together. you were enjoying the sight itself, but you recalled there was a hidden view here somewhere that a certain individual took a certain trailblazer to... and you wanted to check it out.

as you were making your way towards the area, you didn't realize you were being followed by a couple of a few criminals. you were humming one of robin's songs to yourself, only to find your voice was completely concealed behind the discomfort of a cloth, rendering your inability to breathe for a moment. you inhaled, smelling unfamiliar chemicals, forcing your body to relax. you immediately knew something was happening to you, but you tried to fight it back for a moment, but the sedatives were already forcing you to fall...

so you did. you collapsed to the hard ground, visiting the blackest night.

once you woke up, you were tied up, duct tape over your mouth. your eyes frantically traveled everywhere, panic now infesting the rest of your body. where were you? who took you? the immediate realization that you were kidnapped strucked you, and you were silently panicking.

you were trying to calm down, but the sedatives were making you feel sick. you felt tired, and you didn't feel strong enough to even move that well, either.

"she's finally awake."

an unfamiliar voice boomed to the side, and your head turns towards the direction. an unfamiliar face, several men. you felt your heart drop, faced with the reality of many possibilities. what do they want? are they going to kill you?

"hey there, pretty girl." one of the unfamiliar men took hold of your face, observing you.

"that's really (y/n)?" one says.

"is this even a good idea? the family is everywhere." another says.

"it's easy, boys. we just ask her for the money." another says.

"yeah, yeah. so, we'll remove the tape from your face and you start speakin'." the guy who held your face said.

he ripped off the tape of your face, causing your eyes to tear themselves up due to the pain you endured for a good moment.

"now talk—"

collecting up some saliva, you decided to spit at the man who spoke to you. you didn't say anything, but that enough should tell him 'no'.

he chuckled, wiping his face off with disgust. "you wanna get dirty, huh? we won't ask again; we want your money. it's easy. just give us one million credits and we'll let you go."

you didn't say anything. in truth, you were ultimately terrified. your body shook with distress and exhaustion, and you wanted to vomit. you looked around frantically, seeing that you were in a room, somewhere. a dark room, maybe in a building with little sunlight. but you had to get out of here.

you tried to wiggle out of the ropes that held you, but you couldn't. they were too knotted, and you were unable to do anything. you began to panic, but you tried to calm down at the same time.

"... not gonna say anything, huh?" he grinned, before taking out what appeared to be a handgun.

your eyes widen, your hands trembling. was this how you were going to die? then, you were pistol-whipped to the face, granting you to suffer from a cut and a bruise. streams of blood traveled from your injury and to your chin, dripping. you breathed, your breaths shakey. he lifted his hand again, and just right before anything could happen, the men froze. they were silent, unable to move. each individual was struck by a glowing blade from behind which materialized from nothing. they all grunted in pain, blood spurting from their injuries.

"what the-!? what's going on—!?"

from the door next to you, sunday opened the door and walked in, hands behind his back. they froze, ultimately accepting their defeat knowing that the checkmate had walked into the building. sunday's eyes rested on you, anger already apparent in his gaze. he walks over to you calmly, noting your injuries... which only infuriated him more.

"normally, those who 'die' in this dreamscape don't really die in reality, " sunday began to speak, untying your ropes, catching your body as it fell. you were in a panic, unable to move, unable to speak. you were shaking so bad, sunday could feel you vibrate against his frame, "for crimes like this, normally, you'd go to prison for it. but i'll make an exception for prison."

he lifts you up, your eyes softening at your lover. but you were too tired, and that was when sunday looked at you, turning his back to the culprits, saving you the scene of a brutal event. his eyes took steady of you for a moment, as though he was forcing you to sleep, to save you from the screams of their deaths.

"... i'll just have you all die, and wiped from reality."

your world goes to black once more, carried away by your lover, as the culprits who dared touch you would meet their ends. insufferably so, not given quick deaths.

you wake again to find yourself in an infirmary, where robin was asleep with a tear-stained face, resting her ahead atop of your body. you were dazed, tired, and you were patched up by the family's medical team. sunday was gazing outside the window, and the moment he heard you stir awake, his gaze softens, approaching you quietly.

"(y/n), you're awake." he whispered, careful not to wake robin. "how are you feeling?"

that was when you began to sob, your heart racing. "i'm... i'm okay, i'm... i'm just scared." you were terrified, even now, but you knew you were in safe hands.

sunday knelt by your bedside, brushing his hand atop of your hand. his gaze so gentle, his touch and everything was so gentle, you felt your body ease up. he leans over, pressing his lips against your injury, then your lips.

"you're okay, now. please, do not leave my side from now on, (y/n). something like this could occur again."

you nod slowly. you knew that full well that you would have to glue yourself to sunday's side, and if you had to leave, well... it'd have to be his approval.

"robin was worried sick about you. she was here all day sobbing, wishing for you to wake immediately. would you like anything to eat or drink? i'll have someone bring it to you."

god, you really were hungry. now that the adrenaline died down, you were wanting something now.

"... has robin eaten anything yet?" you asked.

sunday shook his head.

"let's get her something too. i would like..."

[nqmonarch]

HUGE QUESTION/IDEA about Self Aware HSR

Characters: Misha, Gallagher, Tingyun, a small bit on Blade at the end

Huge spoilers for 2.2 and before

So how does Self Aware HSR with the characters that are no longer with us work? Are they still self aware?

Guys, I need you to think about how horrifying this is.

As I realized in a previous post HSR has Aeons but they also believe in Gods in some cultures, which would presumably be more powerful than Aeon and having more control over individual's lives than an Aeon. The biggest difference I think would be possible is a God being tied to the idea of an afterlife.

So imagine Tingyun was already blacking out whenever Phantylia possessed her body and she was left in a dark void. That was until you turned on HSR, after that she began to spectate the game much like a player. And then when Phantylia left her body and she returned to it she went back with unsettling knowledge and confusion.

It's not until she completely dies that she understands it. Honkai Star Rail is a video game and she is just a character in it. When the game is off she's subjected to days and weeks of complete darkness and silence (because time passes faster in the HSR universe, they have like day and night faster) when in reality it's only hours.

When the game is on she's finally greeted by the warmth again, she can watch fellow companions fight and although she's confused by your motives she knows you're trying to help. You helped Trailblazer prepare a memorial for her, and she watches as the Astral Express ventures into Penacony and faces foe after foe.

More than that, she can see you as you tear up over a character's story. She can hear your voice making jokes at the funny little references in the Trailblazer's words, references which she doesn't understand. And when Misha and Gallagher seem to die, Tingyun isn't the only one who's crying.

But Misha and Gallagher join her. They wake up while you're still playing the game and watch as you fulfill their goals. They see tears fall down your cheeks, and hear you as you cheer on the Astral Express and empathize with Sunday although never fully support him.

Then rather than turning the game off and subjecting them to darkness you go and do your weekly simulated universe, an affair Tingyun is quite used to at this point. She takes the time to explain the situation to Gallagher and Misha.

It's a bit harder for Misha to take than Gallagher, after all "Gallagher" had never been real he was always a character. But now in a sense he was. Gallagher would always exist, after all he was part of the game. When you turn the game off and the world goes dark, Tingyun is pleasantly surprised by the fact she isn't alone.

Those times of loneliness had passed. It's still scary, she's unable to see Gallagher or Misha or even herself, at times the void is all consuming even in sound and she can't hear them. But they're there, and that makes the whole ordeal less frightening.

They aren't sure what to make of you, the player. Yes you play the game, but to keep them here are you something like a God? They learn that in your world you are just an ordinary person but in their world you would be a God. The power you held over them, you spent making them stronger and providing them a sanctuary for once they died. You will a merciful God, indeed.

They found as they explored the void it wasn't much of a void at all. The character's, light cones, consumables, and relics you weren't using were hidden away in corners of the voids. Gallagher took some of the drinks you'd been keeping and the three of them took a celebratory toast.

When they'd initially come across the characters you weren't using it'd been terrifying. They stood eerily still, standing there, akin to robots. Tingyun noticed there was one that looked like her, she was sure you'd used it in combat. There was one for all of them, even the Trailblazer.

Tingyun, before Phantylia had taken her over completely, did notice suddenly getting faster but to think it was because of relics and a light cone you'd given a robot of her? It seemed to an extent properties were shared between them.

They were able to make a home based off of the items in your inventory, home was a strong word considering it was just a place to stay when you were offline. It was much better when you were playing the game, but they understood it wasn't like it was the only thing you could do. It was just a game.

Misha was the first one who suggested it. The idea of going to your world. It was just a game, they couldn't confine you to it, and even if you managed to travel inside of the game they were all dead anyway. Misha was excited at the idea, despite having all of the memories of Mikhail back he had never really gone on a trailblazing adventure himself.

Gallagher was the most skeptical of the three, wondering if they'd ever be able to exist in your world. But the fact they had consciousness despite being in a game, meant that maybe there was more to this than they thought.

At times they would wish to be by your side not just for their own selfish desires but to comfort you. When they first saw you cry, not for their sake, but for your own life it became a bit hectic. Misha was trying to yell against the sky for you to hear his voice. Gallagher accepted trying to get to your world and was trying to communicate to you through the inventory. And Tingyun was synthesizing consumables with the ingredients you had as if she was someone making food for a crying loved one.

There was very little they could do.

In a brief moment of exasperation, for their inability to talk to you, Gallagher mentioned that he wished a genius would die next so that way they could figure out how to travel to you. But for now, they had to work with what they have.

Another thing, this AU, compared to a Self Aware AU where they can still live their lives I feel as a higher potential of generating Yanderes. I'm not going to write them as that but it's just something I'm realizing because, they're basically completely alone aside from you, you bring light, you bring happiness, it would likely cause an unhealthy relationship.

Counter idea, what if characters that died are the only self aware ones? Hmmmm

Also imagine if characters that died but didn't really die like Blade and Firefly weren't able to make it to this afterlife but they could still feel your presence. Even death in the dreamscape allows them to feel your presence although only for a moment.

I feel like Blade especially would cling onto your presence, since for a brief moment he feels no pain, he doesn't feel mara struck, and-- to an extent he hates it but he feels like Yingxing. He can hear your voice from time to time, a reminder of the relief of pain, and when he met Trailblazer something about them reminded him of you. He wasn't sure what.

Note: I haven't even finished 2.2 but I got to the part where Misha and Gallgher seem to go bye-bye maybe they actually don't and pull a surprise bitch but I'm guessing they do. So I wrote this because I was thinking (bad idea I know)

Also Tingyun's death isn't 100% confirmed it's implied but I'm just assuming she's dead in this.

I swear this is one of my most cracked ideas yet

[ambros1an]

sunday x reader: evermore

warnings: penacony spoilers, heavily references ‘the raven’ bc that’s canon, reader is called Lenore once but it’s a reference not their actual name, description of dead bird (but not a real bird)

summary: something is lurking around your apartment, luckily someone is there to stop it. and it’s someone nobody’s seen in awhile.

Once upon a midnight dreary, where you pondered weak and weary. The sun has set, but the buzz of the city leaks through the walls, doing nothing but lull you further into slumber. Turning over, lifting the sheets over your head is when you hear it-

rat-tat-tat

‘there’s someone knocking on my door,’ you think, just when you were about to nod off. You roll over, back facing the wall, hoping to just ignore it, but sleep doesn’t come.

Distinctly you remember, it was on that bleak Saturday; and each harmonious note wrought its melodies upon the air. Eagerly you wished the morrow;-vainly you had sought to borrow from books cease of sorrow.

sorrow for the lost and radiant bachelor— whom the angels name, Sunday.

Planets that once worshiped the Order shined brightest before their collapse. And so he too fell like the morning star.

Nameless here forevermore.

The silken rustling of the curtain gouges a pit in your stomach. Then fills you with terrors of uncertainty. Just who could be knocking at your door. To still your beating heart, you stand still, listening. Thoughts repeating in your head, “just some visitor entreating at my door, probably a salesman. Nothing more.”

Perhaps then your soul grew stronger with the mantra. Without hesitating you walk to the door, “sir or ma’am, I’m sorry but it’s late for me. I was asleep until I heard your knocking. It was pretty quiet, so I wasn’t sure I heard you but-“ I opened the door wide,

Darkness there and nothing more.

You stare deep into that darkness. As if your mind tries to fill the void, you stand there dreaming. The mumble of the outdoors is no longer audible. The hair on your arms raise at the silence.

The only sound there to be spoken was a whispered word, “Sunday?” An echo at the back of the hall whispered back “Sunday?”

Just you, again. Merely this and nothing more.

Turning back around into the room, you shut the door. With your back turned, soon you hear another rat-tat-tat, louder than before. The sound is coming from your window. With one foot in front of the other, slowly you encroach upon the threat. Your heart in your ears and the shaking in your limbs, “surely, there’s something…please just be wind.”

Swiftly you pull back the curtains. The window was already open. On the window sill stood a man with grey wings, long past his saintly days.

“Wha-Sunday!”

Taking a closer look at him, you notice black feathers adorned on his white suit. Then see him grasping a raven tightly in his hand, its dark plumage ruffled and disorderly with its mouth agape. The bird had a peculiar eye in the center of his chest.

“Not the raven you were expecting, right?” Sunday smiles but the expression doesn’t match his eyes, “I found him snooping around your lodging. It seems the dream master, well former dream master, hasn’t let up even in my and the order’s absence.”

Could it have been that the “knocking” was that “raven” pecking at your door? The former dream master? He had once told you about the man, Golpher Wood, who raised him and his sister. But it seems he didn’t tell you everything.

While you were staring, Sunday took the opportunity to let himself in. Plucking off the black feathers off his clothes.

“Never mind that! Where have you been? I thought you died. No one’s seen you since…” dominicus. You leave that part unsaid, not like he needs a reminder.

He avoids your gaze, looking off to the side, “I’ve been…busy. Sorting out some personal business out on my own.”

“Sunday. Robins been worried about you. If you won’t tell me, then at least tell her.”

“No, I don’t want her involved in this. She’ll be fine since the family is protecting her but, you’re an outsider. I don’t trust them with you.” He shakes his head, his hand behind his back, always in that contemplative manner.

“Why not?” You ask, putting your hands on your hips.

“Did you not see the ‘raven’ corpses lined up out your door? I saw you open it.” He saw all that too? The hallway was so dark that you didn’t dare venture out least you alert an intruder. The thought of someone out there watching you made your heart pound.

“Truth be told, I didn’t want you to see me yet.” Sunday mumbles. It seems that habit of his hasn’t gone away since you’ve last seen him.

“Are you going away again?” Your hands drop at your side.

“Yes. For now. The family has a target on me. Regrettably, I really messed up. My intention was to help, but it seems I’ve only succeeded in making a political upheaval,” he sighed.

“At least, promise me this, that your presence won’t be nevermore. That you’ll visit again.”

With the grace of a seraphim, his hands cup your face bringing it closer to his, “Of course, my sweet Lenore,” and lays a chaste kiss upon your lips.

“By that Heaven that bends above us—by that Aeon we both adore, tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, it shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”

a/n: this was so experimental from whatever I do. finals beating me rn so im losing it but i saw references of this poem in the game and it matches so well with sunday and gopher wood that i had to write something with it 👍 even if my brain is fried

[la2yn0va]

Hello! Can i request some yandere black swan, Robin, Sparkle and Robin (non self aware) x male reader who has an insane willpower and cannot be control, please? In other words they have resistant or are semi-immune to mind control and cannot be really manipulated, not only that the reader is extremely good at advoiding them to the point that makes them extemely frustrated.

Where’s my good luck you little shi…— wait a minute… “Can i request some yandere black swan, Robin, Sparkle and…” ROBIN AGAIN!!? OH HELL NO!! YOU GREEDY LITTLE BASTARD! YOU WANT ROBIN TWICE BUT WONT GIVE ME GOOD LUCK OOORRR MAKE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL/GOD FOR ME TO HAVE E6S5 FEIXIAO!!

HELL NO! YOUR GETTING 1! NUMERO UNO ROBIN! YOU GREEDY FU—!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robin

She first sees your power when you get interrogated by Sunday. She didn’t like it, but it was for the greater good. She watched as Sunday spoke the magical words and…! You were… resisting!

Everyone who saw this stared in shock. No one had been able to ever resist the words of harmony (I forget what it’s called)

Despite this revelation, it was decided that you were innocent and you were let go. Robin wanted to talked to you, to apologize first and find out how you were able to resist the truth of harmony.

But, you didn’t want a thing to do with her. Having your time wasted and taken into interrogation with less then substantial evidence. And now Sundays sister wants to talk? Yeah, no.

This little game of cat and mouse slowly fills robin up with guilt. She doesn’t want you to hate her or Sunday! But she also doesn’t want that experience to be your overall opinion on her and her brother.

She wants to find you to apologize and learn more about you, but you don’t a squat to do with her or the family anymore.

Robin is also pretty frustrated but even more enamored with you by how well you avoid her. It’s frustrating that you’re this stubborn but also impressive in a way.

Eventually, she uses her social platform/music to reach out to you and ask for a meet up. Which eventually you cave in and meet her.

She’s fulled with complete relief and joy when she sees you walking towards her. She immediately takes your hand and bows, apologizing profusely for her brothers actions, being taken into questioning, and her persistent chasing of you.

You accept and the rest of the day is spent with you two getting along. But not Sunday. Fuck Sunday.

Sparkle

She had recently gotten a new toy from penacony. A gun that’s rumored to control the minds of those who get shot from it.

Seeing the potential fun in it, she shoots random people with it. Pepeshi’s, Woman, Men, Intellitrons, pretty much anyone she sees.

Oh fucking not how fun it was!! From making her newly acquired helpers to cook for her to making them put up a large poster in the middle of penacony saying ‘Aha sends their regards~!’

She quickly got bored of it though. But then she bumped into YOU. Her intuition said you were interesting, that something fun was right infront of her. So…she shot you.

She saw as you jerked forward slightly, watching as you turned to her, your pupil’s slowly morphing into spirals before returning back to their dark circular form.

She smiled wildly, seeing you somehow being able to reject the mind control! Well count yourself lucky good sir cause now you’re caught her attention!

But..you don’t wanna talk to her… huh… a Challenge!! Finally!! She instantly runs after you, but your… already gone!? Oh this is gonna be fun!

Sparkle thrives in this game of cat and mouse. She enjoys how you can skillfully avoid her! I makes this whole trip to penacony worth it.

But when she eventually does find you, she demands an answer to her questions. And now that she has you in her grasp, she ain’t letting go until you answer.

This is how your little friendship starts. From you being completely uninterested and annoyed to enjoying being the mouse and skillfully/stealthily avoiding your psychotic friend.

Black Swan

Black Swan as a memokeeper does have some techniques to make people…’willingly’ tell her the information she needs to know.

So when she was indeed of some information, she decided to use this method of hers. But much to her shock, the person she used it on was resisting it!

That immediately caught her attention. Someone, strong enough mentally to resist a memokeepers mental attacks? That’s most certainly an abnormal person.

She keeps you in her mind while she looks for the information she seeks. And as if fate was taunting her, YOU were the person with the info she needed.

So, she does want any normal person does and tracks you down. But surprisingly, your much harder to find then she thought.

Honestly, it annoyed her but also heightened her interest in you. What or WHO are you exactly?

She looks everywhere yet your not in the golden hour area nor the child’s dream area. Which leads her deeper into penacony.

The dreamscape. She managed to find her way into the secret area and look around for you. Eventually, she found you in the lobby area of the dreamscape.

Just casually sitting down on the couch and staring into the celling. She sat down next to you and you two began to chat.

Eventually she managed to get the information she needed from you and left the dreamscape with you. She decided to take you with her, after all, you had caught her interest.

-End-

Now where’s my good luck 🔫

[danisdistant]

sunday - your past sins are meaningless now - part one

[intro blog] | [taglist] | [masterlist] | [table of contents]

»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««

sunday x stellaronhunter!reader

although it was only three days, it felt almost eternal when you’re locked up in a dark room. it doesn’t help that hunger has been gnawing away inside his body.

jade had been checking up on him periodically from time to time to remind him that her offer still stands. even hours before the trial was in preparation, she gave him one last chance. granted, her patience was growing thin.

“are you really going to die like this, sunday?” she said, walking up to him as she lifted his chin. he was already pale-skinned, but even in the dark she could tell he was almost as white as a ghost.

even with this confrontation, sunday refused to maintain eye contact with her. “i’ve told you, for the past three days. i do not want your pity.”

“…well then.” jade sighed, releasing his chin and turned around for the last time. “i’ll go ahead and let the rest know that the trial is still under way.”

“you should already know that your death won’t be quick and painless.”

and just like that, the door shut once more, sealing his faith. sunday felt numb. he knew he could’ve accepted her offer in the first place, at least for robin. but right now, he couldn’t bare to see her face again. not after what he’s done.

he can’t run away from his sins, after all.

»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««

“wow, golden hour is so… golden.” you mumbled, walking around the hustling and bustling city. “it almost makes me feel like i wanna spend all my money on the casinos.”

“yeah yeah. do that and you’ll get caught by the bloodhounds.” silver wolf spoke through the hologram as she crossed her arms. “oh yeah. kafka told me to remind you about her gift. seems like she really wants some new shades.”

“shades huh?” you placed your hand on your chin. “doesn’t she already have like fifteen pairs of them?”

“well yeah, but i’m sure she’d like some from penacony.” she looked around before pointing at a store on the side. “over there, they’re selling some sick looking things.”

“wolfie… that’s a game shop.” you stared at her in disbelief before shaking your head. “unless you want me to get kafka some shades based off some paper birds.”

“anyway, how much time left do i have till i have to break a bird out of its cage?”

“three system hours and twenty-five system minutes.” silver wolf typed something in the air before her relaxed expression turned slightly more serious. “you better start moving [name]. some bloodhounds are getting close.”

“alright. i’ll move and get something for kafka. and a new console for you.”

“haha, that’s what i’m talking about, [name]. alright, i’ll get back to you once you break in. try not to get spotted. i hope you maxed out your stealth points.”

“yeah yeah…” you muttered, turning off the hologram before placing the device into your pocket.

as you set your eyes on the game store, you wondered what kind of games they would be selling in a dream?

»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««

“thirty system minutes.” silver wolf said in your headset as you started to walk to sunday’s supposed location. “apparently, his trial is in about an hour, so security in the area is a lot more tight.”

“should it really matter if i make a big scene or not when i break in?” you mumbled quietly into the mic as you passed by some people. “i mean after all, we’re here for one person. break in, save him from the cage or whatever, and leave.”

“eh, if you’re all in on min-maxing your bounty when you’re caught, i’m fine by it.”

“what?! no way, i’m stuck on 6.9 billion credits.”

you could hear silver wolf’s smirk over the mic. “nice. well, it doesn’t matter anyway. it’s about to go up to 7 billion.”

“hey! you aren’t authorized to enter here.” an ipc guard blocked your way to the entrance of an ipc building. “turn around, or i’ll have to resort to force!”

“7.1 billion. sorry, miscalculated.” silver wolf replied as you pulled out your weapon. “don’t worry, i have the screenshot of your bounty, and i’ll share it with the others. anyway, the guard just called back up. good luck.”

“thanks wolfie. i’ll take it from here.”

»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««

sunday sat still. he was counting the seconds, minutes, and hours, he had left once jade closed the door. he had been stuck in complete silence, minus his own heartbeat and breathing, for four hours now.

as soon as he heard footsteps, he knew that his time was up. he stopped counting. at this point, he wondered if he should finally look at jade in the eye.

“dang it, it’s locked!” an unfamiliar muffled voice came from the other side. his wing twitched, suddenly curious at the foreign voice.

that’s… not what he was expecting at all. was someone else besides jade going to escort him? or is it someone unauthorized trying to break in?

“ugh, i’m just going to brute force it.” the voice said before a loud audible thud filled the room. sunday noticed only a small dent appeared on the metal door.

“dang it, it’ll take me forever to open this!” you groaned as you looked around for some kind of lock or code. you weren’t tight on time, but you did wish to get out of the creepy dark hall and room as fast as possible.

“tsk.” silver wolf clicked her tongue after a brief pause. “if you’d wait a second, you wouldn’t have made yourself noticeable to five other ipc guards. anyway, the code is six-nine-four-two-zero.”

“ok- got it.” quickly, you punched in the numbers and the door opened before you.

you weren’t exactly sure what you were expecting when you heard that sunday was locked up in a room. but, you certainly weren’t expecting him to be chained up in a chair.

“jeez.. the security on you is quite impressive.” you mumbled, causing sunday to finally look at you confused.

“…you’re not the ipc..” he muttered, trying to recall where he has seen your familiar appearance before.

right, you’re a stellaron hunter, specially [name]. he had seen you on the ipc broadcasting channel here and there after your interference with the company.

but, what exactly are you doing here? what exactly are you going to do with a man who’s going to be dead soon?

“nope, not with those suckers.” you smirked slightly, partly listening to silver wolf’s keyboard as she tries to find a way to release the chains. “i’m [name], one of the stellaron hunters if you haven’t heard about me before.”

“right now, your trial is upcoming in a couple of minutes, but i’m here to get you out.” giving a thumbs up, sunday shook his head.

“…don’t. i deserve what i’m going to be charged for, even if it means death.” he muttered, turning away as you looked at him surprised. you were honestly expecting him to be ecstatic to leave.

well, it doesn’t really matter how he feels. after all, the script did say to free him from the chains.

“uhuhh..” you said, listening to the footsteps outside that seem to be getting closer. “well, a little birdie told me to get you out of your chains, is to just snap them.”

“wait- you’ve.. disabled them??” sunday looked at his wrists to realize that the dull purple glow was gone. at a slash of your weapon, both of the chains snapped off his wrists.

he gasped, although he wasn’t sure why. surprise that the chains actually broke? relief that he’s free? or infuriated that a stellaron hunter is helping him?

“alright bird man.” you turned around as more ipc guards appeared at the door, aiming their weapons as you prepared to attack. “i’m going to save you, whether you like it or not.”

really, sunday himself wasn’t sure if he did mind being saved or not.

»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««

“alright, that’s the last guy.” you huffed as the final body fell to the ground with a satisfying thud. “we’ll be leaving penacony as soon as we wake up.”

“and if you’re thinking about running away, i have a small bird keeping my eye on you.” you glared, causing sunday to respond with a small nod.

so, it seems she really is serious about breaking me out and taking me hostage. it’s no secret that the stellaron hunters are planning something.. yet, i’m in no condition to fight and resist. sunday said mentally as he followed you out of the area. although, i wonder who’s the other stellaron hunter she’s referring to as her bird…?

despite his suspicions, sunday believed that the best course of action is to do as you say as the two of you break out.

“alright wolfie, we’re at a safe area. get us out of the dreamscape before more ipc guards catch up to us.” you placed two fingers on your headset as silver wolf gave you the clear.

[previous] | [next]

»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««

[mm-lurking]

Russian Roulette of Poison - Aventurine

A business deal, lies and a poisoned wine glass is how you find yourself in Aventurine’s arms, crying bitter tears of pain. A/N: I started playing Penacony and met Aventurine. Had some ideas brewing so here you go.

Warnings: Aventurine x fem! reader, angst drama and tension, I made up half of the stuff I say here, its all fanon, there is no logic only feelings

WC: 2356 — It’s another grand night in the magnificent land of dreams, Penacony. The Dreamscape Hotel is bustling with the most renowned guests and exquisite catering befitting for such a place. Everything glimmers and dazzles from the floor to the ceiling, there is a joyous melody playing in the background and the most unique conversations you have heard. But none of that matters to you as you sit at the far end of the lobby anxiously observing Aventurine, your situationship, and that lady next to him. From your position, you can only make out their figures but it is enough to make you nervous.

You massage your temples as you ponder on what is going on between them. Aventurine stands in front of the bar with a hand in his pocket and a wine glass in another with a smug smile on his face as he converses with that lady. Judging from her pose, she seems to be relaxed and friendly almost as if Aventurine was a long-lost friend she had reunited with at Penacony. Judging from her clothes, she seems to be someone of high status and wealth. Your head starts to throb as you dig through your mind and try to figure out where you had seen her before. She looked so familiar but why couldn’t you figure out who she was?

There’s a saying that goes: trust your gut. Trust your intuition for it tells you something is wrong before you even realise so. And right now your gut was sending you signals that something wasn’t right about the conversation between those two. That you had to interfere and see for yourself what was going on. In this land of dreams, even the brightest smiles hold sinister intentions and you knew for yourself you couldn’t trust anyone wholeheartedly here.

So you make up your mind and slowly walk over to them both, the bright lights shining over you as you move from the darkness of your corner back into the dazzling atmosphere of the hotel. Your eyes are fixated on the lady this time as she grabs two wine glasses off the counter and pours sparkling wine into them. Just like everything else in this room, the wine fizzes and reflects the light of the gleaming chandeliers in the room. Your eyes narrow immediately as she pours the wine into his glass; the subtle yet obvious change in the liquid immediately alerts you it's poisoned.

To your surprise, Aventurine casually just takes the glass and swirls it around, smiling at the woman while doing so. Now, you didn’t doubt his abilities -of course not! There is a reason he had earned the notorious reputation he has today. If life was a poker table, he always had a royal flush in his decks. Even if the odds weren’t in his favour he always found a way to turn the tables. Life was a grand gamble and he would always be the final victor, the one with the most chips and most wins at the table. Only a fool would misjudge a mastermind such as Aventurine.

But this was different. You were almost certain he didn’t know his wine was poisoned. To the untrained eye, the wine would appear as normal but to you, an expert in toxicology, it was obvious as hell. Years of forensics and cleaning up murders meant you were often able to predict danger before it unfolded.

“Don’t drink it..!”

Before you register your actions, you are already standing in front of Aventurine and the guest as you tightly grip his wine glass and look at him in panic. He glances at you momentarily with a confused look before shaking his head.

“It is rude to stop me from consuming a drink that was especially poured for me don’t you think?”

“My my, who do we have here? Care to introduce her, Aventurine?”

The woman interrupts your conversation and you turn to look at her, nervously fidgeting with your hands as you think of what to say. She doesn’t look angry but the way her eyes narrow slightly implies she isn’t too happy either.

“Oh her? I coincidentally ran into her at Penacony. She occasionally works with the IPC if contracted.”

Aventurine answers for you and you blink at him before quickly nodding. No, you both being here in Penacony was not a coincidence; he had brought you here with him given your…special relationship with him. The woman smirks and lifts her wine glass higher, swirling it intently before staring right into your eyes.

“And this friend of yours has quite the nerve to interrupt us so rudely don’t you think, Aventurine?”

“The guests on Penacony are always a handful.”

He replies and you sigh quietly. Of course, he wouldn’t really take your side just because you both were into each other. You weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, but not exactly just friends either. Friends don’t kiss each other secretively while passing in the corridors. And friends definitely don’t spend the night together every few days. Keeping your complicated relationship status aside, business was business and right now you looked like a fool interrupting their conversation like this.

“The wine is poisoned Aventurine. Don’t drink it.”

You ignore the way they both take jabs at you and glance at Aventurine. You tightly grip his wine glass and try to take it away, but it doesn’t budge. The laugh the woman lets out in disbelief makes you turn your attention to her as she stares at you and scoffs.

“Poisoned? Are you out of your mind?”

“I saw it myself.”

“You saw the wine being poisoned? In this room full of people?”, she stretches her free hand and motions around the room at the bustling atmosphere surrounding you three. There were already eyes on you from the beginning and now more people were starting to look in your direction from the way the guest loudly spoke. Embarrassment creeps in and you feel yourself turning pink from the awkwardness of the situation. Regardless, you stay resolute and repeat your thoughts.

“I remember what I saw very well, madam. My eyes do not lie.”

You look straight into her eyes and she rolls them, clearly outraged by your accusations.

“You have quite the audacity to assume I would poison the wine of my dear guest so publicly.”

Aventurine watches quietly and seeing how neither of you were backing down he tries to calm down the tension.

“Hey, let's not go there now-“

“How about this, friend of Aventurine, since you don’t believe me, why don’t I drink the wine myself to prove to you that the wine isn’t poisoned?”

She cuts Aventurine off and smiles at you slyly as she raises her glass high in the air and takes a large sip of the wine. You nervously gulp as she pushes the glass away from her lips and looks at you.

“See? Nothing happened at all. You are embarrassing yourself.”

“But-”

“Enough. You’re humiliating yourself now. Everyone is looking at us, friend.”

Aventurine hisses into your ears and you feel your heart drop at the lack of his understanding of you. The shame and discomfort causes tears to form in your eyes and you harshly gulp, unwilling to show your weakness. Whispers and chuckles erupt in the air as you hear people talking about you and pointing fingers at you but you shake your head and focus on the situation at hand.

The woman keeps talking, insulting your intelligence and common sense but you’re too focused on your thoughts to fully register anything. You rack your brain as you try to think about how to prove yourself. It doesn’t take too long for you to figure out another path. Right, that must be it. If he wasn’t going to believe you then-

Without a word, you snatch Aventurine’s glass forcefully and take a sip of his wine. He is unable to stop you in time as the sparkling wine runs down your throat and the instant you swallow the liquid a bitter burning sensation sets in your throat.

-you would have to prove yourself in the most extreme way possible. Just as you suspected, it wasn’t the wine but the glass itself that was laced with poison. It was not strong enough to kill you immediately but not weak enough to set in slowly either. You stop momentarily and stare at the glass before gulping down the rest of it completely.

The average person would assume that the bitterness in their throat was the result of the strong wine; continuing to take slow sips throughout the party and allowing the small yet steady dosage of the drug to cause harm. This way the perpetrator wouldn’t be traced back so easily among the various servers, bartenders and guests. Yet you drinking the wine down in one go meant only one thing.

“!!!”

Aventurine stares in horror as the wine glass shatters on the floor and you fall along with it, choking and gasping for air. Loud gasps echo in the room as people watch everything unfold. You feel nauseous and an overwhelming amount of pain in your body from how the poison sets in so rapidly. Blood drips out of your mouth as you cough and tears follow. He quickly drops down to your level and takes you into his arms as he hurriedly observes you. The look of horror soon turns into full-blown anger as he looks back up at the guest, who is now smiling evilly without saying a word.

“You-!”

His voice is laced with frustration and shock; though he wants to say more, nothing comes out of his mouth. You don’t ever remember seeing Aventurine this mad. How his eyebrows knit together and his eyes are illuminated with fury as he stares at the guest makes you mentally chuckle even in such a state.

“A fool should never interfere in the wiseman’s plans.”

The guest completely ignores Aventurine and looks straight at you while speaking before scoffing and walking away. Aventurine wishes to run after her but he reconsiders when you weakly stroke his arm to stop him. He looks back at you with a sad smile as he tries to help you.

“A-Aventurine-“

“Silly girl. What on earth made you do that?”

You foolishly smile back at him and attempt to take a deep breath which makes you cough harshly.

“You never trusted me…even at the moment you didn’t believe in me…” His eyes widen and he exhales slowly. You both had a rocky relationship since the beginning. In between the romance and intimacy, there was a gaping hole regarding the emotional connection and understanding of each other. The trust you had in each other wasn’t firm and he definitely didn’t trust you as much as you trusted him.

“I…”

He doesn’t know what to say. He’s still processing his emotions as his gaze flickers back and forth between you body and the spilled wine. Seeing you like this deeply hurts him but he knows he hasn’t been the best man to you. Had he had faith in you and listened to your intuition, would you still have ended up like this?

“Anything for you Aventurine…anything…even if you don’t love me as much as I-“

“Don't. Please.”

He had never lost a gamble or a bet. Everything and everyone in his eyes was a chip at the table, a token to take a risk with to go big or go home. But tonight, his favourite chip was at the losing end and nothing could turn the bet back into his favour. You can hear his rapid breathing as he calls for backup and help all while trying to keep an eye on you. He couldn’t appear weak, even in such a position, he couldn’t show others how tightly his fist was clenched underneath the table.

He continues to hold onto you tightly, shouting orders and clearing the crowd to get you medical assistance. His panicked voice is all you remember before your eyes shut close and your breathing becomes almost undetectable. – In a quiet corridor, away from the main hall of the hotel, the guest dials her top contact and patiently waits. Once the line connects, she exhales.

“The job is done.”

A small laugh is heard over the guest’s phone after she speaks. She can hear the loud rustling of papers and items on the man’s desk before he replies.

“Good.”

“Despite the memory loss induced in her, it seems she still hasn’t learnt her lesson.”

“Oh?”

“Same foolish woman. Even after such a tragedy her mind still does the same pattern of behaviour that got her in trouble.”

“She didn’t remember you at all, Sapphire?”

“No sir.”

“Good.”

A moment of silence follows. Sapphire inhales slowly, wondering if she should speak her mind. After all, she was the guest Aventurine had been talking too and just like him; another member of the Ten Stonehearts. Regardless of their differences of opinion, he was still a colleague.

“You have something on your mind. Say it.”

“Sir…what about Aventurine?”

“He won’t know a thing. Besides, what happened to that girl is none of his concern.”

“..right.”

The call ends with a click and the man sighs as he places the handset back into the receiver. Besides the telephone, his nameplate glistens on the table glitters like the very gem he is named after, a Diamond. He rubs his temples and frowns as he recalls your case from seven years ago.

“Looks like you have caught on our little trick, infiltrator of the IPC. You were found in the wrong time and the wrong place. Lucky for you, your forensic skills are too excellent to throw away.”

“Can’t answer me? That is fine. Besides, I have no choice but to cause a slight corruption in your memory. Such a shame, Sapphire and you would have made good friends. A little electric shock is all you’re going to need and we will overlook your charges.”

“Oh my, fighting back are we? Don’t worry, there will be nothing left to fight for once we are done with you.” ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.

[azen13]

The General's Garden - Chapter Two: Summer

CW: Yandere Themes, Kissing

Description: You're just a simple gardener hired by Jing Yuan to care for his garden. Little do you know that the General thinks of you quite highly, and wishes to make you his.

Pairing: Yandere!Jing Yuan x GN!Reader

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It is a sweltering summer day when Jing Yuan invites you out for dinner.

As the weather had become warmer, the greens had become greener, and the conversations had become deeper. No longer do you simply share tea for mere minutes with the General of the Xianzhou Luofu before getting back to work; no, you now find yourself steered in Jing Yuan’s direction like a ship at sea.

The day he invites you out begins like any other mundane morning. You wake up draped by ruffled bed sheets, a line of drool running down your face, and the imprint of a hand on your arm. The sun hasn’t even risen yet, the only sign of dawn is the slice of yellow on the horizon. There are signs of the Xianzhou Luofu beginning to awaken already, though. The crowing of a rooster, and the quiet hum of hushed conversation between pedestrians on desolate roads.

You get yourself ready for the day, dressed in inexpensive, loose clothes. Although recently, your wardrobe has begun changing, along with your budget in general. With your recent raise, you could probably afford anything the universe had to offer: a lifetime vacation in Penacony, a whole planet, IPC business investments, the stuff you could only dream of affording. But thanks to your job, you can envision whole galaxies of possibilities hanging just out of reach of your eyes, so close you can touch them.

The walk to the General’s home is a familiar affair. To Jing Yuan, these morning hours are painful and drawn-out. Oh, how he wishes your face, framed by your ruffled hair like an angel’s halo, could be the first thing he could see every morning. Subconsciously, a part of him wishes he could be the first thing you see every morning as well.

When you do arrive, Jing Yuan is already waiting for you beneath the branches of a gingko tree. The gold in his eyes is shrouded by shadows, painting them a duller color. Still, even the darkness cannot obscure his soft smile–evergreen on his handsome face–when he sees you. He approaches with a lazy stride, eyes fixated on your own. “Good morning, Y/N. I hope you slept well,” he greets, taking a moment to drink in the sight of you. Even in those understated clothes, you look positively divine.

You offer a smile and a small wave. “I did. How are you?” You ask, shifting on your feet a little. Despite how many mornings you have spent getting to know this man, you cannot help but feel your stomach doing somersaults every passing second you spend talking to him. Your heart thrums in your ears, beating out in racing rhythms.

Jing Yuan stifles a chuckle at this. You are so beautiful to him, even when you are nervous, even when you are sad, even when you are frustrated, or feeling a million other emotions that cannot be named. It’s truly endearing to him, seeing you try to hide the fidgeting of your hands or the flitting of your eyes. Even so, he hopes that one day your gaze will be locked on to him, and only him. “I am well, thank you for asking.” There is a brief pause in the conversation as Jing Yuan scans your face, envisioning this moment as a chessboard. You are brilliant in his eyes, but he knows he can and will outsmart you. It is only a matter of how.

He decides to take a simple, subtle route. Slow and steady is the way to win a heart

“I was wondering,” he continues, breaking the silence, “if you would like to come with me to dinner in Exalting Sanctum. A new restaurant has opened up. Consider it a token of appreciation for your work,” he says. His eyes watch with a concealed anticipation, eager for your surprised reaction. 

Of course, your eyes widen with surprise, though you don’t immediately deny him. The sight almost breaks his facade. For weeks you would refuse even the slightest gift from him. A cup of tea, a break, a small raise, anything and everything. And that simply won’t do, not with what Jing Yuan has in store for you. 

“I would…” you hesitate, carding through calendars in your mind, checking today’s date to see if you had anything planned, “but-” “But what?” The reply is fast, but it is not sharp. The General’s tone is inquisitive and soft, like the last rays of sunlight at dusk. He tilts his head slightly, gazing at you with those big, golden eyes. More and more, you find yourself falling into those pools of molten gold, delving into odd feelings and falling sick to strange maladies that you cannot diagnose. Again, you hesitate. Jing Yuan does not rush you. He only gives you that soft, quiet stare. “I…I think I have something going on,” you mumble, feeling a little embarrassed for refusing an invite to dinner from the most powerful figure on the Luofu.

Jing Yuan’s reply is quick again, though his cadence is as relaxed and lazy as ever. “We can reschedule, then. Just let me know what dates you are free, and I’ll make a reservation,” he says, taking a moment before he continues. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are you busy with tonight?” 

You tell him, and he listens with rapt attention, nodding along to your words. The question is an easy lead-in to the normal morning conversations you share with him, though his eyes seem to shine a little brighter.

After a few minutes, you and him part ways; Jing Yuan heads off to work, and you go into the depths of the garden. The rose bushes are just days away from blooming, and they need your attention.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

A few days later, and you are anxiously pacing the floors of your tiny studio apartment like the floor is on fire. It only took hours for Jing Yuan to set up a reservation on a night you were free, saying he would pick you up and walk with you to Exalting Sanctum. Luckily, your apartment is close to where the new restaurant is, so it shouldn’t be a particularly long walk.

Minutes pass. Your feet drum a steady rhythm on the hardwood floors. The tenants living beneath you probably hate you by now, but you could care less what they think. The General of the Luofu is coming to take you to dinner. As a “token of appreciation for your work”. 

The moment you hear a soft knock against your door, time seems to pass by like a rock skipping on the surface of a pond. One moment you are opening your door, the next Jing Yuan is walking next to you down a busy street, one hand gently placed on the small of your back, the other hanging by his side. He walks on the side of the sidewalk closer to the road, eyes scanning ahead. Then you’re at dinner, divulging more and more details of your life and hearing more about Jing Yuan than you had ever known before. He says something that makes your cheeks burn, and there’s an edge to the brilliance of his eyes that you’ve never seen before. 

You must be inebriated, if not from something you’ve drank, then from Jing Yuan’s spirit itself. He pays for dinner and walks you home, once again making sure to place himself between you and the road. Before you can return to your apartment, he says something unintelligible. Your lips move on their own in a breathless response. 

The General of the Xianzhou Luofu kisses you, then and there, before bidding you goodnight.

One step closer to victory.

[yuesya]

There is music, echoing elegantly into the silent darkness. Solemn and magnificent, countless notes rising and falling to blend into an ethereal melody.

It has been quite a long time, since the Choir’s song of Order last resounded through the stars.

Penacony, the Land of Dreams, no longer remains beneath the jurisdiction of the Harmony. For Order has been established, and from it, an intergalactic Paradise will arise. Is already on the rise, weaving together the blissful dreams of its inhabitants under the iron grip of a watchful conductor who is determined to see their ideals become reality.

“This is just the worst.” Three words, grumbled lowly in an unhappy voice, discontented. Silver Wolf grits her teeth mulishly, hands curling into fists. “Penacony’s gone. Firefly… didn’t make it out this time.”

A slow blink of eldritch blue eyes. The white-haired girl standing beside the youngest Stellaron Hunter remains unmoving. There is no change in her outward expression at all.

“… Firefly?”

“She’s gone,” Silver Wolf’s voice is louder this time. A little more fierce, too. Gloved hands come up to wipe roughly at her eyes. “Firefly is dead now, Shiki. That –that was her third death!”

“Third death. Penacony.” Shiki is silent for another moment. “… It’s Order that killed her.”

“We need to go.” Silver Wolf sucks in a deep breath, and sets her shoulders. “Any longer, and we won’t be safe here, either; Order is actively subsuming everything around it into its Choir. If this is part of Elio’s script, then–”

“‘You will draw your blade.’”

“… What?”

“My script from Elio,” Shiki’s voice is infinitely soft. “… He told me, ‘You will draw your blade.’”

Then, she proceeds to do so.

One hand grips at the sheath of the sword at her side, while the other closes around the hilt. Shiki draws out the entire length of the thin blade in a single smooth motion. Careless, almost, and unhurried. There is no particular strength behind it. It can’t even be considered a proper swing, but–

But beneath the tip of her blade, there is a distortion in space. Something –something that parts beneath the edge, a thin line that swiftly stretches into a yawning chasm that blooms into the world around her, tearing through the space and stars and Order Itself like an unstoppable tidal wave–

That just keeps going and going–

Red. No, black. Looking into the emptiness left behind in the path of the tear in reality is something that hurts, is actively painful, but blissfully calm at the same time. There’s something that’s almost alluring about it. No, repulsive. Radiant sunlight, and the darkest shadow.

… It doesn’t make sense. But it doesn’t need to. For the stars themselves are meaningless, and in the end there is noThINg thAt matTeRs in wAke of HeR SILENCE–

…

…

…

… Elio stares blankly up at the familiar blank panels of the ceiling. It has already been several long seconds since he’d roughly pulled himself out of his last simulation, but the harsh thud-thud-thud pounding of his heart has yet to begin calming. The sharp, distressingly poignant headache in his skull shows no signs of easing anytime soon, either.

What he’d seen just now… was not a desirable scenario. Not at all. Something definitely needed to be done, especially in regards to Firefly’s ‘third death’ in the Land of Dreams.

“Elio?” Kafka’s face appears in his field of vision as she leans over him, waving a hand in front of his eyes. “Everything alright?”

… Hopefully, they will be. As long as Elio can work things out and direct them on a better course of action.

“I’m fine, Kafka.”

“Hmm.” The woman stares at him for a moment. Then, smiles teasingly, “Maybe you should take a break. Wouldn’t want you to start stress-shedding now, would we?”

Elio sniffs, even though the vertigo of the sudden motion makes the room spin dizzyingly. “If I lose all my hair, then you and the other Hunters are most definitely to blame for it.”

[ourserendipity]

samsara of shattered dreams: past

(aventurine x gn!reader x dr. ratio) just some heads up, this happened before the whole penacony arc in the story. No Beta read 😎😎 (That's all I think lol. Anyways I'll be leaving for a while cuz I'll be busy and shiz 🥲🥲. hope y'all enjoyy✿) Part 1/3

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Memories. Like glass, they glisten the beauty reflected by the light giving its vivid colors, and yet they are oh so frail; like the fleeting flow of life, sudden yet steady at the same time.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Looking back, you wouldn't have thought that you would see yourself in this situation; not that you already foresaw your fate in the first place. Still, there's the feeling of regret lingering at the back of your mind; one that is not directed towards you but rather to the things that you've done. If only, if only you had the power to change the course of fate maybe this wouldn't have been necessary, if only one could stop the other's heart breaking perhaps goodbyes weren't needed to be said. But alas, destiny has its own ways and so now you are trapped, here in a samsara of endless possibilities, all from the past up to the future; all that is only but a dream yet to spur along with the branches of life.

You dance, you circle around the twinkling stars swimming along azure waters that reflect the night sky, following the roots of time ever so slowly growing, a future waiting to be born, its memories captured in the garden of recollection. Spin after spin, countless lightcones spawn in the vicinity of your eyes; an attempt to draw you unto them, delving into the memories of both the future and past once more. They all glimmer in your eyes, symbolizing its high importance to those who gaze at it, but truth be told, you didn't want to look at them anymore, not when you know you'll only hurt yourself in the process. Even then, you caress them over your palms ever so gently, cherishing the moments silently; actions do speak louder than words after all.

And now you wonder, will everything be alright? Now that the stars have finally collided, and so shall your encounter with death had arrived.

"Y/n... Y/N..."

"Aventurine-"

"They're... they're gone. They really are not here anymore, huh?" He whispers, tightly holding your cold, desolate body.

Despair was imminent in the thick air that engulfs the room as he desperately tries to hold back himself from tearing on the spot. He'd hate for the two of you to see him cry and be vulnerable; after all, didn't he tell you that he doesn't bet on the losing end?

And yet here he is: lo and behold, the winner of it all, stripping him of his own tears, his own freedom to be frail and weak, all just to keep himself at bay, and yet failing so miserably.

"......."

Only silence was heard across the room, rather, it was the only answer the genius could give him. Though not fitting his character, he believes that even he could not give the response the man wanted; needed even.

"There's no time left to mourn what's already gone, we should make haste." It was the only thing he could reply. He knew he had to give him an answer somehow, else the man's insanity would escalate even further.

".....leave.."

"what?"

"leave me alone, I... I'll follow you after a while, just please let me be," he pleads achingly, as if he is almost breaking into the point of oblivion.

Utter brokenness was the only thing he heard upon Aventurine's response. And that alone already tells him that

You wished it wouldn't have been sooner, that you could stay just a little bit longer. And so you fought, no, you ran, you ran along with them in the dark in hopes of outrunning time but to no avail. In the end, you still had to go, regret trailing alongside your eyes brimming with tears.

"Hey no fair! that's my share Aventurine!"

"Not when you say please~"

"Such prudence... Will you two stop the act already?"

"Ooh so scary, Mr. Alabaster head~" you tease, obviously trying to mock him and his antics.

"Indeed. I wonder, where is that handsome bust of yours? You don't seem to wear it as much anymore~" Aventurine coos, whilst holding the bag of candies on his right hand, with you struggling on the other hand, trying to reach the said bag from him.

He scoffs upon hearing the blonde's remarks, though what he was saying is true. If he were to be honest, he doesn't see the two of you as an idiot, but he wouldn't openly admit it to both of you, not with his pride and ego of course. Sighing, he knocks the blonde's head lightly, making the guy dramatically wince in pain.

"ow, that hurts y'know?" he cries all the while you were there, stifling a laughter trying not to laugh at his obvious acting.

It was just a simple day for the three of you in the IPC and yet at that moment, everything felt light; it felt as if the three of you were simply living in your own world, rightfully so. It felt so comforting, like a dream you wish that will never end. But then...

All those years of endless banter, the fondness of even the simplest of times; both good and bad, and them, the two of which you truly had loved with all of your heart, the stars you thought you would never reach; but you did, ever so effortlessly. To think that fate had allowed for the three of you to meet is a miracle from the aeons themselves. And despite their clashing personalities, the pointless arguments they dare not speak of, the past one does not wish to return to, you made it work somehow, like fixing the broken pieces of a broken glass only to be shattered again, all because of that stupid, cruel thing called fate. But somehow, you found yourself here in the samsara, reborn from the memories that you hold, now with a new purpose; to collect and to preserve new memories once more, in hopes of retaining what's for the future to hold on to when the time comes. And now that you have regained life in a different form, perhaps you could go back to the real world, to raise a bud anew, in that beautifully miserable place. And perhaps you could meet them again, not letting go of any opportunity given to you, to build a new bridge, to finally reconnect the three of you once more, all for a better future.

"May the cosmos guide you to the path of the unknown, my beloved stars. "

to be continued......

xx/xx/xxxx

xx:xx

From: ■■■■■■■

To: ■■■■■■■■■■, ■■■■■■■■■■

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

To Aventurine

"To my dearest gambler, blessed upon the gaze of Gaiathra. I simply bestow to you my full adoration and longing. The unknown may hold us captive in our own, but we shall be the winners who'll decide the results; and it seems like it in your side, to which I could only pray for its continuous flow. I am truly humbled by your guts and wits, my dear. But despite it all, I could feel the lingering despair each time you gamble your life away. So to you I offer this humble gift; a gift of life and new comings. Never forget, you are Kakavasha, born from the bright yellow star, blessed by abundant luck and fortune. May you walk upon this newly lit path of destiny, along with him and what's left of us. "

To Ratio

"To my favorite scholar, truly a genius amongst geniuses. I could only stare in awe upon all of the achievements you have gotten. I may not be as potent as your vast amounts of knowledge nor do I reach the same standards as you do, but please be reminded that there are things that even the smartest revolutionists simply could not have a grasp of. And even if it seems that one's passing is but a swift gust of wind in your eyes, I could tell: the moment my drifting eyes meet yours, those eyes of yours are telling otherwise. So please, be a little bit nicer to them next time. You may never know; that in the future, he will be in your saving grace, hoping that you'll spare him the sympathy that he truly needs. "

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

[lunareiitic]

HSR 2.1 SPOILERS AHEAD BE WARNED.

---

Okay now that everyone who hasn't caught up has left: let's talk framing of the IPC.

When Topaz released, a lot of you were ragebaiting and telling people you hoped their jobs exploited them when people were like "oh I like her as character." Notably, I personally haven't seen that kind of ragebaiting with Aventurine's backstory and the answer isn't just misogyny, but it is related to how little some of you pay attention.

Topaz and Aventurine are peers, and are clearly juxtaposed as two sides of the same coin. While Aventurine was a literal slave, his people wiped out Aventurine eventually gambling his way into the IPC to become a Stoneheart, his backstory doesn't actually differ that much from Topaz's. Remember: both of these characters are antagonists to our Crew when the audience learns their histories.

Topaz lost everything to the IPC. She's a kind of scary career woman nowadays, but you have to remember that her world was on the brink of collapse and her world's leaders sold their entire population to the IPC. While Topaz may come across as more well adjusted than Aventurine is, the IPC's main strategy is putting their victims in a position where they can't reasonably refuse. It's why Aventurine is such a good lapdog of theirs: since he's willing to bet everything in order to win. He's adept at playing desperate and risky. A lot of discussion of Topaz's character misses this coercion aspect of her backstory because of how it's framed.

The Topaz Interlude is less focused on Topaz herself and more on showcasing the dark side of the IPC. Topaz herself is put in a murky light: friend, foe, and unlikely ally all in one. Her arc in that interlude puts the theme in neon lights "IPC bad, they're solutions aren't necessary if people work together" and Topaz as the "villain" is then "Defeated" and she withdraws and takes the L, leading to her arrival in 2.1 alongside Jade for Aventurine's plan.

Arguably, Aventurine is worse than Topaz in a lot of day-to-day regards: he doesn't have Topaz's sense of compassion and desperate desire to do good, he's openly lying to the cast and doesn't care particularly about their safety, and is actively trying to put Penacony back in the hands of the IPC so they can turn it back into an interstellar prison. (We don't have time to explain why Prisons Are Bad. Go listen to Angela Davis and get back here.) His goals don't feel as evil because of several factors: the first being that HSR knows he has a tragic backstory and is milking it for all that it's worth. Dead parents? Dead sister? Dead culture? Enslavement leading to indentured servitude leading to a deathwish? They give him the game's first perspective shift so you're even more willing to empathize and sympathize with him and his plight, something they'd never do for Topaz, a character whose morality is considerably more conflicted and put on the spot.

Penacony is also a much darker locale than Belobog: when Topaz arrives on Jarilo-VI, we've already solved all of their conflicts (theoretically. we're trusting that bronya can fix all of the shit her mother wrecked), so Topaz arriving is a unifying force of characters we already know an like. Penacony is a lot darker, and you're already primed to distrust and dislike them since they're well. The Family. People who might be just as bad as the IPC. This creates a weird moral flip in the eyes of the audience if you're not paying enough attention: the plot isn't "Penacony bad, therefore IPC good now" it's pretty clearly "Penacony bad, IPC possibly even worse" and the fact that Aventurine has set them up to win should send shivers up the spines of the viewers. Does the Dreamscape deserve to exist? If the IPC gets their way, it won't matter what the answer is. And Aventurine has gone all in to make sure it's so.

[theactualsunshinechild]

Okay so now that the Black Swan story quest has officially dropped the lore that Sampo IS in fact a part of the Masked Fools, I think now is the best time for me to present to you my thoughts on what Sampo's fool's mask should be.

Bear with me now, this is going to sound stereotypical, but I have my reasons. I think Sampo's mask should be that of a black cat.

Aesthetically? Flawless. It will make his green eyes pop, go great with the blue hair, and gives the designers an opportunity to give in to the slutty punk goth aesthetic they were kind of already cultivating.

Thematically, I think this is very appropriate because black cats, while nowadays mostly considered to be "bad luck" were initially more about the change of luck. If a black cat crossed your path, your luck would be fated to change, whether for better or worse. As he says, where there is business, there is Sampo. People with cash will suffer because he will sell them junk. People in a bad situation can be taken right out of it by Sampo, but may have to pay a price. He brings luck and he takes it away with a clever word and a flick of the wrist. To a certain degree, encountering Sampo in the story has consistently been in line with this notion! We were having a good time exploring when we found him in the snow, and he got us into an altercation with the Silvermane Guards. Later when we were in a really bad pinch trying to escape Bronya and the guards, he whisked us away (along with Bronya, changing her luck in the process too). When we were in need of a guide to the surface willing to get us in touch with Serval? Sampo to the rescue. Trouble with stolen artifacts during the museum event? Sampo was at the source. Still need help at the museum? Sampo is your man. One can even argue that our luck turning sour on Penacony only started happening after encountering Sparkle disguised as Sampo which can count if you want. Either way, Sampo is a tricksy little creature and luck follows silently in his invisible footsteps.

Therefore I think black cat imagery suits him very nicely, especially with his whole slinking around through dark alleys and knowing the ins and outs of places and always carefully eluding situations that could end poorly. Probably has nine lives and claws to deal with anything he can't wiggle out of. Just as willing to steal scraps as he is to indulge in given treats. Terribly charming in that same way that cats who know they've caused you trouble are, making huge innocent eyes at you until you shoo them off with a sigh. Always capable of appearing when you least expect it and turning the whole situation on its head.

Point is, in my humble opinion, they need to give Sampo a black cat aesthetic for his Fool form because I think it is classic and fits him.