#aeon of tragedy

[loquaciousnesssesquipedalian]

Verden Chronicles background

To start off at the beginning, thousands of years ago, an alien civilization came to the planet their evolutionary ancestors evolved from millions of years before. Their purpose of arriving as ultimately because of their pursuit of knowledge, no matter the cost. Thus, they decimated the populations of what sapient inhabitants there were and created a select few species from modified DNA of a certain group of the sapients. The resulting beings were highly adaptable and literally designed to be slaves, and they ultimately rebelled against their creators, driving them away but with so much of a resulting loss that they were driven to a stone age.

The slaves were humanity, or more specifically, those and closely related others. The creators/masters served as the inspiration of angel and demon equivalents alike in many mythologies. The period before the Stone Age was what would eventually be called the Golden Age, but that’s a misnomer. Sometime after the Fall, as the event became known as, other extraterrestrial civilizations decided to take advantage of humanity, driven particularly by the unique circumstances involved. As the native Terran sapient civilizations finally fell one by one and resulting ones to humans, other extraterrestrial civilizations posed as either the gods of their preexisting faiths or were directly involved in the creation of new religions, and those combined factors ultimately resulted in literally all modern Terran religions, tribal or otherwise. This is what would become the Aeon of Gods, succeeding the Aeon of Tragedy.

After the Aeon of Gods came the Aeon of Monsters, with dwindling populations of megafauna still posing a serious threat to many human civilizations. These included more well known prehistoric Cenozoic mammal megafauna as well as dragons and persisting dinosaur populations.

Megamammals: These included various rhinoceros-like mammals, elephant types, and now extinct big cats and megamarsupials, and they are at least the partial source of the concept of several mythological creatures.

Dinosaurs: The Grand Bleak Death, the extraterrestrial plague that wiped out most dinosaurs all those millions of years ago, did not entirely do so, at all. The result was barely persisting populations, and also the ancestors of various civilizations that left Terra for other Telluric (habitable to Terran life) worlds. The “gods” that created humanity were among the latter. The still Terran populations also had some of the sapient species that came before the creation of humans. While some may claim that birds are dinosaurs, that’s like saying that humans are monkeys.

Dragons: Very far from what modern fantasy cliches imply, these “successors” of dinosaurs in general are simply any animal of the rhynocephalia order, the sole surviving Terran population of which are the tuataras, natives to what is now New Zealand which look and act almost exactly like common lizards. As for the exact variety, there were limbless, winged, and tetrapodal ones, but not hexapodal ones outside of some rare mutations. Some of the megadragons, or dragon megafauna, still persist on other planets due to having been introduced to other Telluric planets, along with some other microdragon species.

After these megafauna populations died out, then came the Aeon of Heroes, corresponding to the late Bronze Age. The Aeon of Heroes saw some alien interference, but only at very certain events.

After the Aeon of Heroes came the Aeon of Myths, which lasted until after the Renaissance. After the Aeon of Myths comes the modern Aeon of Hunts and Wars, or as some like to call it, the “Aeon of Horus”, and it’s the single worst period of human existence since the Aeon of Tragedy because of evil ruling the world.

As for who keeps tabs on the hidden history of humanity and monsters from here and beyond, that would be the Secretarians, and the Secretarians have many enemies.

Secretarians: Beginning in Bavaria as one of several groups calling themselves “Illuminati”, the Secretarians relatively quickly changed their name to avoid confusion with the others. While those other groups were fighting with each other for a chance of male-heterosupremacist dominion over Terra, the Secretarians chose to stay back and focus on preserving the more fantastical elements of human history. The Secretarians were once a Gnostic group, but eventually allowed non-Gnostics in out of convenience, but they have always been advocates of democracy and heavily critical of false democracy. They operate through some morally questionable methods, but they prefer not to and ultimately seek to preserve history as other Illuminatis try to destroy it.

Mandate: One of the other Illuminatis, these white-male-cisheterosupremacist-antitheist fascists were ultimately responsible for people no longer believing that dragons, dinosaurs, and extraterrestrials are real if having ever existed. They operate through infiltration, bribery, and terrorism, and among their ranks were Michael Moore (he infiltrated the Catholic Church and deliberately put a Catholic and Antisemitic spin in anti-everybody-else propaganda), Ayn Rand, and Jeffery Epstein (murdered not just for the huge public scandal but also for his knowledge of the Mandate). Notably, they began as part of the Roman Catholic Church and existed to hide various atrocities committed by the Church and its subjects against nonhuman sapients and also being responsible for mass abductions of humans, but they broke off and more or less declared war on theists because they see theists as “knowing too much” because of their warped attempts at logic.

Mirage Men: A secret part of the US government with a twofold function of trying to learn the secrets of the Secretarians and keeping top secrets by making shit up. They are popularly known as “Men in Black” but find that hilarious, especially considering they usually wear normal clothing. They make fantastical stories up to cover up real events both fantastic and mundane, mostly involving aliens and intentionally inspired by Hollywood movies. They play the part of “concerned” civilians and have been known to steal identities of actual civilians just for the sake of the act. Their ultimate goal is to keep the truth hidden but not to erase knowledge of it outright but instead preserve it, because they’re exactly the liars to do it. Other countries eventually formed their own versions for similar reasons, but often with a more Mandate-like approach.

[crimescrimson]

Aeon & Cleve + Visual Parallels

[amatres]

hmm, would someone who knew the way their life turned out was bad but found it still worthwhile because there was love there want to change things if given the chance?

[restoriedgod]

powerscaling in orv is so funny because han sooyoung could 100% clap a heavenly official

[tragedicna]

so anyways....aeon long . . . convince me otherwise

[sleepy-aletheas]

I would say they are more the embodiment of self-righteousness in the most single-minded way possible. Which comes in a wide spectrum of help all the way to disaster, depending on who is unlucky enough being directly "helped".

The hatred for Yaoshi is a great fuel to try and get rid of anything immortal, or harmful beyond the balance of nature (e.g. if there are beings that cannot be killed, or beings that should be dead, but were brought back, it kinda stacks up problems on different levels, be it environmental, economical, moral...), and it probably scratches a personal grudge that a cosmic eldritch god could hold onto. Especially if that god probably once had a human mind. We could almost take it as "humanity, but turned up 21 notches and remove any care beyond the person in charge", which for any puny mortal is less than ideal.

The cons naturally are that they don't care what is destroyed in their pursuit of getting rid of the abundance. Innocent civilians? A good sacrifice. Whole planets and ecosystems? A necessary loss to purge out the vile rot of the universe. Followers and devotees lost in the crossfire? There will be more once others open their eyes to the necessity of fighting Yaoshi.

It's almost like a large dog eternally chasing its tail, slamming into everything and everyone around, not caring for the destruction it causes, because it has a single goal and nothing else matters than achieving it.

open discussion bc ive been thinking abt / wanting to talk about them. whats everyone think about lan (the hunt). saw someone describe them as the embodiment of murder and well that doesnt feel quite right

[walpu]

Happy birthday Aventurine

...in which he finds himself enjoying his birthday for the first time after he lost everything

notes - gn!reader, was written with a stellaron hunter!reader in mind but it's not specified just know you're considered a criminal in this one, pre-canon, unestablished relationship with a flavor of pining, angs, hurt/comfort, no beta

Love my birthday boy

He doesn't celebrate his birthdays. Not since the day he lost everything. How can he celebrate the joy of his birth if on this day all the joy was taken away from him?

Born on the blessed day, he's Mother Goddess's beloved child. But why did she abandon her people then? Why it had to happen on the day they were celebrating her, on the day they were supposed to be saved? How can he see himself as something other than cursed, how can he see the day as something other than tragedy?

Anyhow, even if he would want to celebrate, for the first years after the massacre he didn't even have the opportunity to do so. And if he could, he would rather mourn his people, his family. But no, he can only focus on his survival, trying to fulfill the promise he gave to his sister.

Now, standing in the lonely hotel room, he can only smile bitterly at the sight of beautifully decorated cake Jade has send him. How ironic, wasn't she the one who told him to forget his name and his past? Perhaps she simply doesn't look at this the same way he does. "You can't change what happened but you can celebrate that you're still here", she would probably say. He envies her ability to brush off sentiments, really.

Now, when he is no longer Kakavasha but Aventurine of the Ten Stonehearts, he was deliberately choosing to ignore this day. It has nothing to do with his new self.

He may still hold onto his mother's necklace, his father's shirt, the promise he gave to his big sis. But this day? He doesn't need it. He doesn't need another reminder of the moment he lost everything.

That's what he tells himself, ignoring the pain in his chest, trying to bury himself in the work, running away on a mission he insisted on taking, even if was supposed to be his day off.

Still, he gets the cake. This stupid reminder of the worst day in his life.

It honestly feels like a joke. He doesn't even have anyone to eat this with!

He knows Jade didn't try to mock him, she's pragmatic, not crue. But aeons, it does feel like mockery still.

So he sits with this stupid cake in front of him, not really knowing if he should just throw it away. Somehow it feels... wrong. Wasteful. He knows how stupid that thought is, both him and Jade are rich enough to buy thouthands of those cakes. Yet he can't help but remember how his mom and sister would go out of their ways to give him something nice for his birthdays, something that could be considered a treat, a gift. Now he can have everything he wants but... they won't be there to share it with him.

No one is there to share it with him.

... at least he thinks so. Up until the moment the window opens from the outside (eighteenth floor, mind you) and a very familiar figure jumps in.

He really can't help but smile. Not only out of habit but because your ability to sneak in anywhere you want is truly amusing.

"Oh, what I see? A wanted criminal breaking into the room of one of the IPC's most noticeable employees? Don't you afride of being caught, my dear? Or you've finally decided to end our partnership and get rid of me?"

He can't help but chuckle at your unimpressed gaze. Yes, he has told this joke more than once already. But it's not his fault it always make you roll your eyes in a funny way.

But he really is curious what brought you here. Showing up like that is very risky, for both of you. Something serious must have happened if you decided to visit him out of the blue.

... that's what he thinks until you pull out a small gift box from your pocket, throwing it his way.

"A little birdie told me today it's your birthday. I don't usually participate in the whole gift giving tradition. Nor do I celebrate something myself. But those things reminded me of you and I was nearby anyway" you say with a cheeky smile.

He doesn't even know how to react, honestly. His hands just automatically unwrap the box and... oh. It's a set of earrings. A very pretty set of earrings.

"They reminded me of peacock tails" you say, barely holding back a chuckle.

"How original you are. I'm a birthday boy, you should be nicer, you know!" he acts like it's just a small joke between you two but his voice is weaker than usual and his hands are a bit shaky. He doesn't want to overthink it, he really shouldn't do it, it's just a small gift, a joke.

You thought of him. You know his taste well enough. I came to find him. You're here with him.

He almost panics when you say your goodbyes and turn to leave (through the window again. He'll never know how you do it).

"Hey, hey, no need to hurry. Let me be a good host for my friend" he says with his signature smile (he always feels like you see right through it) while his hand is clenched behind his back (he feels like you see through this too).

Please don't leave.

When you sigh and turn back to face him, he suddenly feels relieved that Jade send him the cake. The thought of sharing it with a wanted criminal who caused nothing but headaches to the IPC is somewhat amusing.

"How about we visit a nearby casino after this, hm? I promise you won't lose with me by your side"

If he can have you by his side, mayve he'll have at least one memory of this day untainted by pain and grief.

[raidenenthusiast]

obligatory post before acheron's release

obviously, it's established that acheron is a variant of raiden mei. her real name is not actually acheron (confirmed through the livestream, but...come on, we all already knew that). specifically, there's loads of similarities in her design to the herrscher of thunder above all else

similar hair structure, hair part, n hairpiece (n obviously the color, too),

sword structure, patterns, n nearly identical handles,

one "red" arm,

the bust/halter,

and of course, the color scheme as shown in acheron's "emanator" form, n the horns shown in the livestream

with all that in mind, i imagine acheron is a variant of mei who failed to save the person closest to her (her kiana, to simplify it), n/or watched them die, or even killed them herself. it's shown during her dance with black swan that there was obviously someone important to her in her past, conflict arose in a setting much like the one featured in the livestream, n there's even imagery of her walking alone with only the moon in the sky to keep her company

kiana has been associated with the moon n moon imagery since the flyme2themoon days; her origin was quite literally a game about blasting off to the moon

this teaser resembles thunders over nagazora to me, as well as mei watching kiana's end in honkai gakuen

there's also the fact that the type of emanator acheron is, an emanator of nihility, is classified as a self-annihilator; those who have felt the pull of nihility n been unable to escape drowning in it. self-annihilator's take the meaning of nihility to heart, so much so that it erodes their bodies n memories

acheron has been confirmed as the self-annihilator type in her character introduction posted recently. what really strikes me about this line is the phrasing of "existence is nothing"

sounds familiar, doesn't it?

mei is characterized by the tragedies in her life, n how they impact her. growing up isolated, a kidnapping at a young age, bullying at school, suicidal tendencies, n the constant reminder that the girl she loves more than anything in the world will always put the overall well being of humanity over herself

to me, acheron is a mei shaped by loss. the mei we remember from hi3 had the chance to grow n change; to learn from her mistakes, n to fight for a better world, bc she had the support of her friends n her most important person. acheron doesn't seem to have that level of support from anyone, at least not anyone still in her life currently

which brings me to my next point. she HAD a "kiana," but ultimately lost her. n this is the result

acheron is incredibly powerful, but her power seems incredibly volatile. she carries this innate sadness with her wherever she goes, n the very path she walks n the very aeon she became an avatar of strips life of all meaning, all the beauty from the world

it's a far cry from the mei we know, bc clearly, there was a very pivotal change in her development that i can only attribute to the loss of her world's "kiana"

[soapssuds]

because i dared to want something

aeon!sunday x fem!reader

"it's ok to want something. though, if you continually put others before yourself, then eventually you'll fall apart. but that's alright. because i will just put you back together."

warnings | fantasy au, slight yandere sunday, death, blood, angst, fluff, manipulation, poorly written fight scenes (maybe), grammatical errors, etc.

note | based off of this drabble, some asked for a part 2 and/or a continuation, and since sunday's release is coming soon I thought why not?

part 1 | because i offer my life

with your family and village riddled in ruins and tragedy, you sought to pray to a broken aeon statue. if the aeon hears you, you aren't sure, but your prayers and hopes are all that you have.

part 2 | because i hope for a future

part summary coming soon !!

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

meh why not. Honkai Star Rail X reader incorrect quotes when you have the time because I forgot you wrote for them.

I had a blast with this. Also, a special thanks to @tragedy-of-commons for reading these over.

Now! Your Wish Is My Command! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Natasha: You need to stop drinking so many energy drinks. Seele: You're one to talk. Natahsha: The last patient who refused to stop drinking energy supplements after I suggested it died. Seele: Oh no. Natasha: In a car crash. You: That sounds unrelated. Natasha: I’m the one who crashed it. Do not disobey me.

You: Why do you two like being out in the rain so much? Screwllum: I like splashing in the puddles and rain is just fun! Ruan Mei: I'm trying to get hit by lightning for my research.

Sparkle: I’ve been here in jail so long I think I’ve lost my mind. Sparkle: The days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months. Sparkle: How long have I been in here now? Almost a year? You: …This is Monopoly.

You and Asta: Madam Herta, help! We did a bad thing! Herta: Does it affect me? You and Asta: Not technically— Herta: Then suffer in silence.

You: Do you know a turtle's greatest weakness? Ruan Mei: How slow they are? You: No, their only weakness is that they can get stuck on their back. Ruan Mei: What if you taped two turtles together? They'd be unstoppable, correct? You: … Ruan Mei: … Ruan Mei: …I will be back shortly You: Ruan Mei, NO—

You: Died and came back as a cowboy, I call that reintarnation. Archeon: Laughs -Elsewhere- Boothill: I suddenly feel like strangling someone.

You: I need some help dealing with a problem, do you have any suggestions? Jingliu: Sword. You: Do you have any other suggestions? Jingliu: …Two swords.

You: Do you have any idea how many laws you're breaking on a daily basis? Silver Wolf: One? You: No. Silver Wolf: Two? You: No. Silver Wolf: …Is it one?

You: why are you following me? Kafka: because we’re dating now You: okay… what about the rest of you? Kafka: we’re a package deal Silver Wolf, walking next to the rest of the Stellaron hunters while burying her face in a game and Blade maneuvering her to avoid hazards like light poles: buy one idiot, get several free

You: Do you want to play 20 Questions? Firefly: Sure! You: What's your favorite color? Firefly, laser fucking focused: Triangle. Will you go out on a date with me?

Kafka: I love making short jokes about Wolfie. You: They go right over her head. Silver Wolf, standing on a step stool: Fuck you.

Blade, reading the note in the lunch packed for him by you and Kafka: the path to inner peace starts with four words Blade: not my fucking problem Blade: Narrows Eyes I think this one is for Firefly

Firefly, reading the note in the lunch packed for her by you and Kafka: Please, for the love of the Aeons, be good. We know your love language is acts of service. We also know your only skill is stabbing people. Firefly: Tilts Head To The Side I… believe this is for blade…

You: I love my personal space You point to the Silver Wolf latched onto your back You: this is Wolfie. Wolfie also loves my personal space.

You: Why are you smiling Blade? Blade: Am I not allowed to be happy? Kafka: Of course you are Bladie… It’s just that you being happy, usually means someone’s lost their life… or a limb.

Pom Pom: I typed "bitch" into my GPS and guess what? I'm in your driveway. The Express Crew, desperately trying to avoid spring cleaning after the last "Incident": … Pom Pom: Choo Choo motherfuckers, come out already.

Stelle, waving at the crew as she steps onto the express after being splattered by a small army of stings: hello. Himeko: i- Welt: we literally saw you die. Dan Heng: you died. March 7th: you're dead. Stelle, shrugging: death is a social construct.

You and Stelle: some fools be like “I play games to escape my responsibilities” then pick tank or healer Welt: In my greatest fantasies I am able to help people Dan Heng: In my fantasies I can prevent people from being hurt, even if it means I get hurt in their stead Himeko: In my fantasies I don’t have to know how to aim March 7th: In my fantasies I control who lives and who dies

You standing at the top of the stairs: What are y'all doing at the bottom of the staircase? Ruan Mei: I accidentally fell down. Herta: RUAN MEI PUSHED ME down the stairs because I refuse to pay HER part of our rent! Screwllum: Ruan Mei bet me fifty Credits that I couldn't reach the bottom of the stairs faster than she did falling down it, so I slid down the banister to get my money. Dr. Ratio: I don't know how I got here. One moment, I was sleeping in my bed, three floors up, and several galaxies away and then suddenly I was waking up here, just in time to get crushed by Screwllum.

You: Do you think different paints have different tastes? Ruan Mei: They do. Herta: …Why did you say that with such certainty?

Dr. Ratio, talking to You and Topaz: Well, whenever I’m about to do something, I think ‘would Aventurine do that?’ and if they would, I do not do that thing. You and Topaz: … Aventurine: I know I should be offended, but he's not wrong.

Silver Wolf talking about you: How do you feel about Them, Firefly? Firefly, vibrating at a frequency high enough to shatter a glass: I love Them a normal amount.

You and the Stellaron Hunters sitting in jail together You: So who should we call? Silver Wolf: I’d call Blade, but I feel safer in jail

You: When do you usually go to sleep? Blade: Whenever I collapse is entirely up to the Aeons. Kafka: My body will pass out when it's ready Kafka and Blade: high five You: angry staring (edited)

Firefly: Good News! The store had blueberry bagels! Bad news, the cream cheese died… or became more alive… It is the wrong amount of alive.

Tingyun, after being caught lying in bed with your shirt on: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt. You: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.

Yukong: Hey, random question, what are your favorite flowers? You: Peonies, why? Yukong: … You: Were you going to get me flowers? Yukong: … You: … Yukong, under her breath: It's a possibility…

Quingque: I owe you one. You: That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even.

Blade: walks in to see you and Firefly sitting on the couch facing away from each other. Blade: I know I will more than likely regret asking, but what's going on there? Firefly, gaming: They're having a fight. Blade, confused: Then why are they holding hands? Kafka, playing with her Cat: Fighting makes them sad.

Natasha: Why are there little handprints all over the wall? You, whispering to The Moles: Why are there little handprints all over the wall? The Moles: Because we have little hands. You: *Nods Sagely Before Turning To Natasha* You, with a smile: Its because The Moles have little hands

You, when Wildfire was just starting: Natasha, sweetie, the love of my life, all you have is a handful of impoverished shantytowns paying us protection money. We're basically slum lords.

Natasha: And what's the main rule we have? Julian: Don't dare The Leader Of The Moles, Dark Hook The Great to do stupid stuff. You: And why's that? Hook with her head stuck between two stair rails: Because I have no regard for my personal well being.

[finisnihil]

One HSR theory I don't really vibe with is that Ruan Mei will become an Aeon and my main reason is that it would antithetical to her character.

Ruan Mei is first and foremost a scientist, she wants to understand the nature of life and she purues this aggressively. Sure, on the surface, it does seem she would become an Aeon. She literally is trying to create an artificial Emanator. However, as a scientist, her entire character is built on change. Life thrives on because species evolve to suit their environment. Science itself it constantly changing as we grow and broaden/sharpen our understanding of things.

Aeons are inherently stagnant beings. Tail confirms as much in the 2.5 event, "Even the Aeons must walk their paths". To be an Aeon is to become the embodiment of a single concept, to pursue a concept so aggressively and to devote so much of yourself to it that it consumes you and removes your humanity to make total room for it. Lan can never kill Yaoshi because Lan's entire ascension can be simplified to wanting to kill Yaoshi. If Lan kills Yaoshi, Lan's path of The Hunt crumbles with the conclusion of that hunt. Nanook is so devoted to destruction they welcome the destruction of themself.

This is why Sunday becoming an Aeon would've been a tragedy, it was a cage he'd never escape from and us defeating him before he reached that point was supposed to parallel the charmony dove of his childhood crashing to its death after being set free.

Ruan Mei couldn't be an Aeon because it would make her a stagnant being and a stagnant being cannot understand life, life changes too much and too rapidly for a stagnant being to understand. This is literally why Yaoshi is the way they are. Ruan Mei would just become Yaoshi.

If any member of the Godslayer Protocol were to become a new Aeon of Life it would be Luocha. This isn't just my Luocha bias talking, the man is possibly an Emanator of Yaoshi.

Emanators, as beings who can access an Aeon's power and be seen as a vessel of an Aeon, are half stagnant. Acheron must remain stagnant because if she doesn't, she'll be devoured by IX. Self-Annihilators aren't in battle to escape IX, they're in a battle to stay as far as possible so IX doesn't consume them, trying not to be dragged even inches closer. Phantylia is a very flexible entity but her stagnation is only being able to invoke destruction from the inside, she always fails in approaches of direct destruction.

If Luocha is an Emanator, part of his stagnation would be his emotion. Mara is based in emotion, with extreme emotion causing major flare ups. Blade and Jingliu manage their emotions and the memories related to control the Mara. Luocha rarely shows extreme emotion, he's perpetually calm and unbothered. The few times we do see extreme emotion, like in his voice line about Yukong, it's abruptly cut off and the tone becomes comical or confusing because he reigns it in so violently.

If anyone were to replace Yaoshi in a bid to reduce their harm, it would have to be Luocha, who harbors a love for life but a hate for Yaoshi's approach to it. Luocha would become stagnant in a way that deviates from Yaoshi's path. He has a ton of Jesus parallels, it would fit if he martyred himself to his god in this way to save those suffering.

Ruan Mei loves life and the study of it too much to ever sacrifice that for Aeonhood. Her Emanators will always be artificial.

[milksnake-tea]

❀ ˎˊ- prompt: he'd wanted to at least see her one last time before his ascension, but it seems that even that is too much to ask of the harmony. ❀ ˎˊ- sunday character study ❀ ˎˊ- wc: 641 ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: set in 2.0-2.1, MAJOR ANGST WARNING, gorey language used like once but it's metaphorical ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: this is all vee and bells fault btw also this tweet that changed my brain chemistry now everyone has to suffer with me. if this had a title it would be "she used to be mine" but its too short so it won't :) ❀ ˎˊ- taglist: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace , @flurrina , @tragedy-of-commons , @cakechase , @kiiyoooo ❀ ˎˊ- img credits

She’s gone.

And with her, goes every thought in his mind.

Ringing fills his ears. He can barely hear the voices of his attendant.

His lips move. What he says, he’s already forgotten.

His vision blurs. His eyes sting.

He sits. He stays. He stares.

She’s gone.

Robin’s gone.

The sweetheart of the cosmos, the idol beloved by all, the beacon of light in a night-filled sky-

His little sister is dead, and he wasn’t even there to stop it.

Muttered voices fade into a disorientated buzz that he can’t be bothered to decipher. Clicking of shoes, rustling of papers, all of it- it’s too much, it’s loud and it’s grating and-

Inhale.

Exhale.

Smile.

His cheeks hurt.

His nails bite into his palms. He wants to dig them into his face and tear off the skin and every horrid pretense he’s had to put up for the sake of this damned Family and that damningly weak Aeon who couldn’t even protect their most loyal acolyte.

And now, his sister is dead. Killed in her own home, in the domain of her god.

He’ll never see her again.

He’ll never see her smile, with the brightest lights and flames in her eyes as she sings on the grandest of stages.

He’ll never hear her laugh, with the voice blessed by the Harmony and the voice that had allowed him to continue fighting, even when he wanted to give up.

He’ll never hold her again, the sister who he had vowed to protect and had failed, not once, but twice now, and this time, his mistake, his carelessness was permanent.

Now, she is gone.

He asks his attendant to leave, as gently and as kindly as he can allow. He wants to scream. He wants to shout, he wants to cry, he wants to strangle and rip into whatever bastard dared to kill the only person he had ever loved, the only thing he had ever thought to be precious.

Was this some sort of punishment? For daring to question Xipe, or better yet, to question Ena? Was their devotion not strong enough? Was their actions not kind enough? Were they not enough?

Or were they simply just… insignificant, despite it all?

Then what was the point?

Despondently, his gaze raises from the cold wood of his desk.

Does Xipe even know?

Do they even care?

Something catches light in the corner of his eyes. There, in one of the many bookshelves in his office, a paperback spine stands apart from the rest. He knows it, bitterness and bile rising in his throat, he knows it better than anything.

He stands, and takes it from the shelf. He doesn’t open it.

The cover smiles up at him, the golden text taunting and mocking.

He grits his teeth.

A weak Path. A weak Aeon.

A weak brother.

He tears into the Odes of Harmony, ripping pages upon pages upon pages of lies, false vows, and cruel, cruel delusions. Inked words that had been ingrained into him since childhood are crushed under the sole of his shoe. The smiling face of a deceitful, lying Aeon is ripped into two.

His teeth tug at his lip. His chest constricts with the effort to keep his sobs down, to keep his eyes dry and to keep his grief and sorrow secret from the halls of Dewlight Pavilion. Every intake of air is a struggle in of itself, and it takes every bit of his strength not to break down and wail to the heavens to give his sister back.

It isn’t long before the Odes are reduced to nothing, and Sunday is left there, alone in his office with scattered pieces of paper littering his floor.

Xipe smiles up at him in two ripped halves of a page.

He hates how he sees Robin in Them.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[nvuy]

just thinking about argenti who has so much love to give to the whole universe, who is on a neverending journey of spreading the beauty across the cosmos faithfully, unwaveringly; argenti, who is never capable of receiving that kind of love back. because he cannot stop. because he cannot stray from the path of the aeon that hasn't answered to his prayers even once in his lifetime. because if he dares devote himself to anyone other than idrila, that person is going to have to wait for him all alone, thousands of light years away. lol

warnings for dark themes, angst, argenti backstory references so he’s insane and weird, and argenti literally murdering you, i guess.

i have this in my inbox as well. i liked the link, so now you WILL hear my thoughts.

i had so many thoughts for this prompt initially, but i just couldn’t string it into anything that was actually coherent.

somebody actually came into my inbox and said the interpretation of argenti’s story is wrong and i’m wrong and he didn’t actually kill his friends and SHUT UP i do what i want, and it’s just that: an interpretation. i like putting tragedy into my characters. it’s like adding salt to a bland meal.

anyway.

the worst part about this prompt, and yours, is in his inability to stop his pursuit of finding idrila, he meets you, and he does fall in love despite his promise to venture the stars alone on his journey.

argenti finds falling in love is beautiful at first. you’re supportive, even if he leaves you for extended voyages. he always brings back trinkets, gifts, leaves you one thousand messages a day that read more like love letters than normal texts, and the love he showers you in is endless.

you don’t doubt him for a second.

and then, things change. you tell him it’s difficult to love a person that’s gone for so long.

argenti does truly feel sorry, and he pities you, but this is who he is.

and you’re hurt. his devotion to idrila aside, you tell him that he’s crossed galaxies to find an aeon that does not care for him, nor the other fellow knights of beauty. they are not emanators bestowed with idrila’s power, nor has idrila been sighted by anyone for eons.

to you, it feels like he’s pining for someone else. you are in love with his undying loyalty, and his unshakeable faith. but, it hurts to be away from him for so long while he chases after a being well above you.

argenti cannot stray from the path he wanders. he insists he will do better, but when you thank him, and apologise because you feel selfish, he can’t help but notice your nails have grown to the size of curled claws.

the relationship grows worse from there. he slowly sees less of you, and more of something else. an otherworldly creature that morphs to the shape of you to keep him trapped here and away from his endeavours.

he finds himself growing to learn that the person, you, whom he’s loved with all his heart, was never a person, but a monster wearing your skin.

you break the relationship off some time later.

he finds himself relieved. not because you’re leaving—his heart shatters, actually—but because he knows, somewhere deep down in his stomach, if you stay any longer, he’ll hurt you.

argenti apologises, but you find he cannot look you in the eyes. so, you part ways. maybe you go back home, maybe you set up somewhere else by yourself. it hurts because you felt he was everything you’d ever wanted, and he was, but you know it’s better this way.

in the ideas i was writing for this prompt, i imagined you set up in belobog and work in that floral shop—i cannot remember if it has a name.

it’s been months, and you grow okay with yourself again, and everything is fine. you make bouquets, trim the stems of flowers as will, tend to the pots outside the shop, and all is well.

maybe argenti comes to the shop. he doesn’t know you work here, and he’s only come in because he’s stopped on belobog for his ship needs a repair and the red roses growing outside the window catch his eye. they’re just barely blooming, and spring looms just around the corner.

he doesn’t even realise the shop is open because it looks dark through the glass.

curiously, he opens the door to the shop, and the bell above the door tolls. a cute little shop, and bright colours encircle the walls. daisies, frangipanis, dahlias, petunias, he knows them all from your incessant ramblings when you would walk through gardens together, and he would hold onto every word.

you bound from the back room after hearing the bell, and you both just freeze up. you’re in shock he’s here—but why wouldn’t he be here? he travels planet to planet in search of his aeon—and he only sees something grotesque, and ugly, and a mockery of you. this isn’t you. it’s a mimicry. blasphemy of righteousness, of pure beauty, of one of idrila’s very creations they pulled from their gentle heart and offered to him so graciously.

he knows deep down he’s wrong. he knows, he knows, he trusts himself he knows, but he can’t win over his twitching fingers.

you greet him softly, gently pushing the work in progress bouquet and the garden pliers to the side of the front desk. there’s a multitude of thorns on the bench, and the roses in the bouquet, not yet bloomed, are picked free of their thorns.

there’s only one in the bouquet, one red shimmering rose, that has fully opened its petals.

“haven’t seen you in a while,” you say to him. there’s a hint of that customer service-y tone; because he’s not your lover anymore. “how are you?”

argenti swallows. “just the same.” he turns to the flowers on the wall. “you have a beautiful shop.”

“thanks.” you glance down at the bouquet on the bench. “did the roses outside catch your eye?”

you hear him laugh merrily. “you know me too well.” his fingers graze along the petals of a large assortment of pink amaryllis hanging over a plantar pot. he cannot look at you. he cannot, he cannot, he cannot–

“hey.”

and there’s that tone that twists his stomach. he wants to look, he wants to see you, you, and not that hideous beast that resides beneath your skin.

he feels you stop just beside him. he dares to glance.

amidst your claws and the veiny lines of your once soft and delicate hands that he always would press his lips to the back of, was a single red rose that you twirled between your fingers.

you hand it to him gently. “this one’s special.” when argenti did not move to take it, you tuck it securely behind his ear, indulging in how soft his hair was along your skin. “it’s stayed alive for a lot longer than i thought. it’s been around for about two years now, give or take.” you step back. “it reminded of you.”

and it did. undying strength, and despite all odds of belobog’s weather being unfit for roses, as all of the others had wilted over time, this particular one had stayed.

“i know things didnt end well, but…” you glance out the window. “but, you’re always welcome back here.” and, you still love him. you omit that part. “i’m sorry for whatever happened, or if i wasn’t good enough, or if there was somebody else–”

even now, he laughs. it’s weak. “there was nobody else.”

you nod once. “well. still. i’m sorry.”

argenti knew it had been all his fault, but you, ever gracious and kind as you were, felt burden on your shoulders.

his hand draws back from the amaryllis to graze over the rose behind his ear. the petals were fresh, a light smell of dewdrops in the morning on this cold planet.

he wishes now, he never turned to look at you. he wished he had just spun on his heel and left the shop, and never returned to you. you didn’t deserve this; you had always been so kind, so careful, so gentle with him.

but he did turn, because he had fooled himself into thinking it was truly you standing there, and not some masked fool, or a hideous shapeshifter that was showing its true colours. he sees those claws again, and pulled aged skin that reminds him of trees as old as time, horrible teeth, twisted limbs that crack and bend—

to make matters worse, you notice his distress, and as you always did when you were together, you pull him gently towards you and wrap your arms around him.

argenti, mistakenly, returns the warm embrace, and unbeknownst to you, one of his hands brushes against the garden shears you’d left on the desk next to the bouquet.

he thinks against it for a moment when he hears you apologise for what he had done wrong, and bury your face in the plated shoulder of his silver armour.

despite how he holds the writhing creature in his arms, he knows it’s you. and it is you, but he doesn’t see you, nor does he see any semblance of you left when he turns his head to stare out of the window. he catches a reflection of the creature twitching.

he murmurs an apology as well.

and then, he drives the shears into a particular spot in your spine. you gasp, and you become dead weight in his arms as the feeling of your legs fall away.

cold snaps up your chest and you cry out in pain. it’s just pain, and pain, and pain as hot blood dribbles from your neck.

and then there’s nothing. there’s no feeling. you can’t even breathe. your arms and legs feel as though they’ve just disappeared, and just as he hoped, you don’t feel his spear drive directly through your chest.

he kills you then, as quickly as he can, because as the monster cries and screams, he still knows it’s you in his arms, and he wouldn’t live with himself if you suffered in your final moments.

he sees you, finally, when he lays you down gently on the floor. he tries his best to clean you of the tear stains, and the blood smears that had crept around the front of your neck. you’re still beautiful, even in death, but he finds it impossible to leave the rose you’d gifted him.

so, he takes it—and that rose probably becomes the rose he carries in all his little animations in game. he traverses with guilt, and it’s probably a little wink nudge nudge to you when he says he owes his next battle to ‘a solitary rose.’

[pigeonpeach]

A casket for one but a grave for two

Jingliu x dead foxian fem reader

Random drabble because i haven’t written in too long!!! This isn’t edited so please excuse me if it suck!!!

Also warning: reader is dead :(, desecration of a corpse/ gravesite (Its not sexual) but jingliu misses her wife and digs up her grave to celebrate what should’ve been their anniversary, angst

The night is young, the moon is full land vibrant. Its bright pearlescent colors match what remains in the casket Jingliu digs up, its lid its released as the stench of death washes over. The swordswoman doesn’t falter though, the smell of a skeleton is better than the smell of the battlefield. They’re still dressed in the beautiful hanfu she saw them in. When flesh hung on their skull, a constant pink would linger on their cheeks. They used to smell of the ocean with sea themed perfumes, their hair was always well kept, she’d run her fingers through it when stressed. The hair has since fallen off. But Jingliu isn’t herself anymore. She knows that. Something grows within her. Those cursed yellow leaves climb out if her throat with a heavy and hurtful cough, as if the roots of the ambrosial arbor grew within her lungs and tore at her veins. This day was one tragedy already, years ago, her beloved having passed in wore. Their death… the cause is starting to blur. Jingliu wonders if this cursed disease will rid her of everything, her love, her life, the memories of her wife… What had she done to deserve this cursed fate? She fought valiantly, she held her ground, and the aeons or whoever wrote the details of fate decided to play the cruelest joke on her. That her beloved would lay alone in the ground, and she would be unable to join them… not anymore. Perhaps it was the pain of the roots and leaves growing, perhaps it was the anger and homicidal reaction that drove to such extreme. In her worst moments in life, her wife was there. The sight of her alone would ease tension, her hands would work into her shoulders and her voice was the siren’s call. But she’d never hear it again, she’d never see her again. The mara cannot revive, at least that she knows of. Yingxing’s corpse had been fresh when Dan Feng committed that sin. But there is no muscle ontop of the bones, it’ll do

“Tonight is lovely isn’t it?” Jingliu held the skull of her lover in her hands with the gentleness and fondness she did in life. “Today.. today would be our 40th anniversary..”

“Actually it would be our 100th.” Jingliu could hear her say that in her head.

“It doesn’t matter the number. What matters is just how much we love each other right?” She peered into the skull, trying to mentally piece the flesh onto the bone, the eyes into the socket, the hair into the skin, but it was blurry. She felt a surge of distress, no.. she couldn’t forget. She can’t forget her. She couldn’t protect her to the end the least she can do is firmly protect her memory. Jingliu hissed in pain, clutching her head as it began to spiral with thoughts. A storm brewed, a flame ingited, a endless stream of water filling the room (metaphorically), sowing thd seeds of a rage and berserker that could cause her to further fall into the trap of mara.

“Jingliu~” a voice called, a siren’s melody that cleared the air in a instant. The night was quiet now. Nothing made a sound. Not the heliobi roaming in the gardens, nothing. But the silence didn’t feel threatening, she couldn’t explain it. She looked back at the skull. “Fight as you’ve always had. That is my wish. Do not let my death hold you back.. save them.. for me.. please..” Jingliu’s wife’s final words to her acted like a slap as she held the skull to her chest.

“I avenged you dear.. Hoolay.. he is locked away.. tortured for eternity.. never will he be able to hurt your people again.. you didn’t die for nothing.. I promise you.. I did it..” Jingliu wept silently, staring at the moon, as if to pray.

“I love you.. Jingliu..”

“I love you too, for eternities and centuries.. my love will never die even if I someday become a wretched beast.. I promise even then will your voice be my medicine…” Jingliu pressed a kiss to the skull, her lips only meeting hard snd cold teeth. She laid back on the ground, the skull on her chest, wanting to enjoy this peace for a little bit longer

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Promising love in flames

Daeron Targaryen (son of Viserys I) x wife!reader

warning : emotional, character death, kissing, hurt/comfort, daeron is the only one of his brothers who is normal and doesn't suck in the fic, no use of y/n

Summary : Daeron the only heir to the green throne before his niece Jaehaera was the last hope that the throne could still be held. Even after the many defeats, his older brother sat crippled but still alive by the iron swords. But the second battle at Tumbleton was imminent and it seemed that Daeron and his wife would only be able to see each other one more time before death appears.

info : It's a shame Daeron isn't in the series i like him even though his death is such a mystery and like everyone i just feel sorry for everyone during the war. I inflicted myself with emotional damage sadly. I hope it doesn't hurt too much to read this, have fun anyway :)

masterlist

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The war was raging over Westeros and especially in King's Landing and the surrounding villages and towns at its worst. Houses had already been wiped out, more people died every day than from the plagues of disease it was miserable everywhere.

People were starving, and if they didn't starve they died of the pharynx, and if the fire didn't cure them it was the sword of a saw or a rope around the throat.

They all died in one way or another. The blacks behind Queen Rhaenyra had already lost the poor princes and thus the queen's children as well as the rough prince doc nevertheless they did not give in they still had reserves and the Nord who still played a role gave everything he had in men and resources under Cregan Stark. Every dragon seed was used for the remaining dragons or other positions.

But similarly, each house tried their best to help the now injured and crippled King Aeon the Second and protect his last child, his daughter, but their hopes lay with the former Queen Alicent's youngest child after the moon was killed by his uncle.

Daeron Targaryen third son of Viserys the first the youngest of his siblings a young man of sixteen years but with the courage and determination to unseat his stepsister and continue to hold the throne. But this was also the only dragon the greens had left after the collision of the dragon pit by the people.

Tessarion and his rider Daeron were the last hope for the greens, his mother, his brother, his niece, the people and above all the young prince was the hope and light of his wife.

Shortly before the outbreak of war, the marriage had been arranged with the first daughter of Lord Peake, a girl of his age, not only politically, because of the countries and the men's discrimination, it seemed as if there was a certain tragedy behind it.

It was a chilly morning in the sept of King's Landing when the royal lady arrived with Lord Unwin Peake. A daughter in a dark dress of her family was already standing at the entrance next to her father, a man who was proudly dressed.

His daughter was bound to the prince of the realm, the winning side, and that meant favor and respect for a good marriage from the point of view of the players.

She remembered the fear she had that he would not like her, that she would not like him as she walked the path to Atlar past the royal family to which she would soon belong. But her husband, the prince of the kingdom of Daeron stood there a cloak green with gold the clothes decorated with dragons which met her bronze with the towers. ,,My lady, I am delighted to see you," he had murmured to her, taking her hand gently, it was his softness that set him apart from his brothers and his dreamy sister. It seemed that Daeron was the good coin of the Targaryen.

It was then, in the few moons they had together found peace, that they truly took a liking to each other. He was always willing to prove to his brothers that he was just as strong as them, just because his dragoness was the smallest of the adults.

But it was always like this as soon as he came back to her and he became soft, poetic and above all loving. His kisses were always gentle never hard and harsh like a dragon he was just the picture of a good prince.

She had a loving dragon with a sense of duty and who fought for his family and took them on flights into the sky and to uncharted cities with his dragoness Tessarion. ,,Only you surpass the sky in your beauty my lady" were just a few of the compliments he paid her. He was soft, showed her things that only a prince and princess couple could do, let her tinker with things and she let him listen to old stories from valyria while he held her in flight.

It was a marriage that was childless at that young age but it was a marriage that was politically correct and they both got to know each other better. Until the time they were called to the council and the news of the war came, ,,I will do my duty brother my life is dedicated to the crown" he had said first without hesitation and she held his hand.

It was his loyalty and duty to which his brothers were committed and always needed. He looked into the violet eyes of determination as they were sent off to Oldtwon that very evening.

He served his kinsman Lord Hightower and always reassured her that everything would be all right, ,,I'll protect you with my life, my love," he murmured over and over when he found her weeping bitterly.

She was afraid of losing her family, afraid of losing her Daeron…but by that point her husband had earned the title of Daeron the Daring and won the first victory in Tumbleton.

It was a victory that was celebrated, a victory she looked forward to with a pounding heart as she waited in his tent, which was guarded. She ran longingly into his army and he held her again.

He always held her even now in the year one hundred and thirty after aegon's conquest when the second battle of tumbleton took place and the attackers took her by surprise. it was a knowing that it was over.

They just had to listen outside, ,,Yet this day was so beautiful," she heard him murmur as the prince rose from his chair by the battle plan, the simple golden crown on his head removed. His eyes were violet with disappointment, love and relief.

His wife got up from the two-seater and put down her wine. In her dress she always looked like a beautiful queen to him. ,,Tessarion seemed so free," she admitted and looked outside, the tent flap fluttered every now and then and they knew what was going on outside. They could not withstand such an attack.

He nodded yes, his Tessarion seemed very happy on their morning ride together, spitting beautiful blue flames, circling calmly and cuddling her rider and his wife. ,,She loves flying like we do," he said and held out a hand to his wife, who accepted it.

His violet eyes looked at her despite their young age, they seemed to have aged. Daeron's hair slightly tousled and still with soot damaged here and there by the fires, his beloved's dress beautiful and yet with splashes of blood as she too had seized crossbow and sword to defend herself until Tessarion killed the attacker.

Her eyes showed her youth but her body was tired of it, ,,Duty my daring prince you were too good for this damned bloodshed" she said and laid her head against his chest.

His heartbeat, though relatively fast, was not full of fear, his hands trembling slightly around her. His lips kissed her forehead and his fingers made her look at him.

Tears had gathered in her eyes as the screams grew louder and she felt the warmth above the tent. The tent where they had spent the last days and weeks. A beautiful tent where they shared love, kisses and emotions.

But he wiped away the falling tears, kissing her cheeks gently as he always did, ,,I love you from the day I saw you. I couldn't be more grateful and proud," he told her with a soft smile that made her lips evenfalsl into a smile. Her sniffles mingled with silent tears of pride as he heard the cry of his dragoness she heard the words in Valyrian he commanded his beloved dragoness to fight one last time and fulfill her duty.

It was Vermithor and Seasmoke in the sky when they heard Tessarion rise with a scream and flames engulfed the tent only moments later. The heat slowly increased the blood increased the death increased. Their end came closer. ,,You were a good being, loyal and daring…thank you Tessarion," she heard him say as the blue flames of his dragons engulfed the tent and the prince seemed unafraid of the flames of his family, even if his own eyes watered. His favorite memories slowly burst into flames around them, a nice contrast to the beauty of his wife.

She liked the flames of Tessarion, the blue was pretty, the dragoness was beautiful and Daeron was gentle, it seemed almost soothing to die in his arms surrounded by the warmth of the pretty color of the cobalt blue, the violet of her dear Daeron's eyes and his light hair. ,,Will it hurt?" she asked nevertheless as the flames began to engulf the furniture and wooden beams and it grew closer and more inescapable.

A question they both knew would only do so for a moment before they would die in each other's arms. ,,Just for a moment, my love, but I'm with you," he promised, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear and joining their hands together.

They were still beautiful and in love, they were everything majestic there was in this hellhole. They were eternal in the stages of history and each other's hearts and that was what mattered.

Blue flames crawled across the ground slowly touching their clothes and Daeron's cloak the dragons on his cloak began to burn their towers began to glow. It was getting hot just below the surface, but all only for a moment it seemed to go away.

They sang to each other, ,,I love you so infinitely with my heart that we may be together again in the endless journey," tears of fear and love flowed down the cheeks of the young royal couple as they joined for one last kiss.

Before the blue dragon fire flames ignited their bodies the love burned but the couple smiled softly into the kiss. Received death with love and courage and should be written in the history books of the masters yet to be read.

Prince Daeron died in his wife's arms and she died in his arms, sharing one last kiss before the flames of Tessarion's loyalty put an end to them. It was the most beautiful and tragic image the Dance of the Dragons produced, but it was a love for eternity. The love between a true prince and his lady wife. Together forever beyond the mortal world, bound by the love in their hearts.

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

[yellowymellon]

2.2 spoiler analysis (?)

The most tragic thing about Sunday is that he didn't learn anything. Granted he was trying to convince our side of his plan and we lept on the offense to try and stop him instead of talking to him, it might've not convinced him but it gives him a broader perspective. He who doesn't know the world, only dreams. Sunday's philosophy happened as a result of his shelterdness. It's ultimately flawed because what he thinks is weakness is too broad when he actually means the weak willed and the unfortunate. I actually agree on that part, some ppl are dealt some card that can't be changed, but he thought of firefly as a weakling even tho she isn't weak willed, she's fighting for herself . He only knows penacony, and how everyone here is only trying to escape from something, a job, a past, and eventually a life. It was the impeding horror that his wish cannot come true because no higher power can ever grant them the perfect world, and the crushing sadness as he sees people helpless.

But escapism is inherent in humans, and that's why his plans never were about changing reality, or fighting for the world. He was the one who escaped the most from life and living, from pain and tragedy. He, Is the Weakling. And so the shadow of nihility loomed over.

if he wasn't ascending but kept being a human god then I can only assume he'd break, because he is not protecting the weak anymore, he's holding on their everything, and they'd lay every burden on him to fix. It was true when robin said that the order cannot fix humanity's flaws, and Sunday had the fatal impressions that the weak needed to be "babied", instead of nurtured and led to become strong themselves, and that the weak would rather not fight against the odds. I was a bit iffy about how the crew had no real argument but that last line...damn it was too good. Life slumbers, so that someday we wake up. And I think that's the moral of the story. People have their ups and downs, we struggle and it gets too hard to bear, so we escape, and that's okay. But then dawn comes again and we have to face life. "There's no night with no darkness"

I still semi support Sunday's plan, because the moral of the story to us was to face reality, but this is a fictional world, we can never have a dude ascend to create this paradise to us, but they can.

Sunday is so stubborn, as he falls down from the defeat of the duel he said would decide the better ideology, he still reached to the sky and lamented over his loss, as if humanity lost, and people would still suffer. But wasn't that the point of the dual? Wasn't that what should've convinced him? He falls motionlessly even as robin hugs him.

Everything was too strange to him, when TB tells him we sleep so that someday we wake up, he's stunned into silence,like it's too late of a conclusion he never came to because HE never woke up. And thus, he wakes to weep.

If you've seen the 2.3 LC with Sunday on it, spoilers for description if you mind : he once again despairs over the loss, and what does he eventually say? That maybe....maybe there's a way... *Sigh* we know of elio's letter to him, but Sunday gets stubborn like with sparkle so I'm not sure if he'll agree but, not the order again pls;;;

If anyone can articulate what path Sunday was walking on (clarification: as an aeon xD) hit me up! I can't explain it...he didn't fully believe in the order, nor Harmony, him saying to ena that humanity was the one who created you sounds like he believes in humanity, yet he doesn't, it's like he believes in the path but not the aeon (or their track record of destruction lol). Sunday has the kind of contradictions that tingle one's brain