#chain of acheron

[mlady-magnolia]

The wonderful chaos of watching Allegra, Camden, Mina, and Molly play Chained Together

[onceuponalegendbg]

“Thankfully, this Memokeeper came to my aid and helped me escape their surveillance unnoticed.”

“To be honest, it was more like stalking than helping, and the process was far from ‘unnoticed’… But we did escape.”

These two are going to be the death of me.

[gracesvespers]

THANATOS: AN INFODUMP

Thanatos (Θανατος) known to the romans as Mors is the god or daimon (personified spirit) of non-violent death. He is a chthonic deity residing in the underworld.

This post covers his family, symbols, notable myths, epithets, orphic hymn, and my favourite passages about him.

PARENTAGE AND SIBLINGS

His parentage and family can be understood through Hesiod’s Theogony (A Greek epic written in the 8th or 7th B.C)

And Nyx (Night) bare hateful Moros (Doom) and black Ker (Violent Death) and Thanatos (Death), and she bare Hypnos (Sleep) and the tribe of Oneiroi (Dreams). And again the goddess murky Nyx, though she lay with none, bare Momos (Blame) and painful Oizys (Misery), and the Hesperides . . . Also she bare the Moirai (Moirae, Fates) and the ruthless avenging Keres (Death-Fates) . . . Also deadly Nyx bare Nemesis (Envy) to afflict mortal men, and after her, Apate (Deceit) and Philotes (Friendship) and hateful Geras (Old Age) and hard-hearted Eris (Strife).

— Parents: Nyx with no father (Roman versions of his birth name Erebus the father)

— Siblings:

Apate (deceit)

Eris (strife)

Geras (old age)

Hesperides (nymphs of the evening)

Hypnos (sleep) Ker (violent death)

Keres (death-fates)

Moirai (fates)

Momos (blame)

Moros (doom)

Nemesis (retribution)

Oizys (misery)

Oneiroi (dreams)

Philotes (friendship)

SYMBOLS AND APPEARANCE

SYMBOLS

— inverted torch → represents a life being extinguished

— butterfly → symbolises the soul

— sword → indicates his authority to sever the thread of life

— poppies → as a symbol of eternal sleep

— wreath → suggesting eternity, or the cyclical nature of life and death

APPEARANCE

Greek vase paintings depicted him as a winged, older man with a beard and rarely as a young, beardless youth.

Roman sculptures portrayed him as a youth holding an inverted torch and a wreath or butterfly

NOTABLE MYTHS

— THANATOS AND THE BODY OF SARPEDON

As seen in the Iliad, Thanatos and Hypnos are tasked to carry the body of Sarpedon away from the battlefield to Lycia so his brothers and countrymen can give him a respectful burial.

Homer, Iliad 16. 453 ff (trans. Lattimore) (Greek epic C8th B.C.) : "[Hera speaks to Zeus about the approaching death of his son Sarpedon :] ‘But after the soul and the years of his life have left him [Sarpedon], then send Thanatos (Death) to carry him away, and Hypnos (Sleep), who is painless, until they come with him to the countryside of broad Lykia (Lycia) where his brothers and countrymen shall give him due burial with tomb and gravestone.’"

Homer, Iliad 16. 681 ff : "Then [Apollon] gave him [Sarpedon] into the charge of swift messengers to carry him, of Hypnos (Sleep) and Thanatos (Death), who are twin brothers, and these two presently laid him down within the rich countryside of broad Lykia (Lycia)."

— THE CAPTURE OF THANATOS BY SISYPHUS

Sisyphus was the (possibly) founder and king of Corinth and was known as ‘the craftiest on men’ in texts by Homer. In the myth, Thanatos was sent to carry Sisyphus into the underworld. Upon Thanatos’ arrival, Sisyphus who was hiding chained him and in doing do, suspended death across the entire world. Thanatos was later freed by Ares who had noticed an absence of death from the battlefield

Alcaeus, Fragment 38a (trans. Campbell, Vol. Greek Lyric I) (Greek lyric C6th B.C.) : "King Sisyphos (Sisyphus), son of Aiolos (Aeolus), wisest of men, supposed that he was master of Thanatos (Death); but despite his cunning he crossed eddying Akheron (Acheron) twice at at fate's command."

Aeschylus, Sisyphus the Runaway (lost play) (Greek tragedy C5th B.C.) : Weir Smyth (L.C.L.) quotes from Pherecydes, a C5th B.C. mythographer, in his discussion of the plot of this lost play: "The drama was satyric; its theme, the escape from Haides of the crafty Korinthian king. According to the fabulous story told by Pherekydes (Frag. 78 in Müller,Fragmenta Historicum Graecorum) Sisyphos made known to Asopos that it was Zeus who had carried off his daughter Aigina; in punishment for which offence the god sent Thanatos (Death) against the babbler; but Sisyphos bound Thanatos (Death) fast, so that men ceased to die, until Ares came to the rescue, released Thanatos, and gave Sisyphos into his power."

— THANATOS WRESTLED BY HERACLES

In the Euripides, a Greek tragedy written in the 5th C B.C. Thanatos is wrestled by Heracles to save the life of Alkestis. Heracles does this to repay Admetos, Alklestis’

Euripides, Alcestis 839 ff : "Herakles : I must save this woman who has died so lately, bring Alkestis back to live in this house and pay Admetos all the kindness that I owe. I must go there [to the funeral at the graveside] and watch for Thanatos (Death) of the black robes (melampeplos), master of dead men (anax nekrôn), and I think I shall find him drinking the blood of slaughtered beasts beside the grave. Then, if I can break suddenly from my hiding place, catch him, and hold him in the circle of these arms, there is no way he will be able to break my hold on his bruised ribs, until he gives the woman up to me. But if I miss my quarry, if he does not come to the clotted offering, I must go down, I must ask Kore (Core, the Maiden) [Persephone] and the Master (Anax) [Haides] in the sunless homes of those below (domos anêlios)."

EPITHETS

Greek

- Paean -> the healing (delivers men from the pains and sorrows of life)

- Melampeplos -> of the black robes

- Anax Nekron -> master of dead men

English (these are ones I've derived from text so partial upg)

- insatiable

- dreadful/dreaded one

- awful god

- with a heart of iron

- without mercy

Latin

- Acherontis - inflicter of Acheron (woe)

ORPHIC HYMN

The Fumigation from Manna. Hear me, O Death [Thanatos], whose empire unconfined, extends to mortal tribes of every kind. On thee, the portion of our time depends, whose absence lengthens life, whose presence ends. Thy sleep perpetual bursts the vivid folds, by which the soul, attracting body holds: Common to all of every sex and age, for nought escapes thy all-destructive rage; Not youth itself thy clemency can gain, vigorous and strong, by thee untimely slain. In thee, the end of nature's works is known, in thee, all judgment is absolved alone: No suppliant arts thy dreadful rage control, no vows revoke the purpose of thy soul; O blessed power regard my ardent prayer, and human life to age abundant spare.

MY FAVOURITE MISC. COLLECTION OF TEXTS

Hesiod, Theogony 758 ff (trans. Evelyn-White) (Greek epic C8th or C7th B.C.) : . . . These are Hypnos (Sleep) and Thanatos (Death), dread divinities. Never upon them does Helios, the shining sun, cast the light of his eye-beams, neither when he goes up the sky nor comes down from it. One of these [Hypnos], across the earth and the wide sea-ridges, goes his way quietly back and forth, and is kind to mortals, but the heart of the other one [Thanatos] is iron, and brazen feelings without pity are inside his breast."

Aeschylus, Fragment 82 Niobe (from Stobaeus, Anthology 4. 51. 1) (trans. Weir Smyth) (Greek tragedy C5th B.C.) : "For, alone of gods, Thanatos (Death) loves not gifts; no, not by sacrifice, nor by libation, canst thou aught avail with him; he hath no altar nor hath he hymn of praise; from him, alone of gods, Peitho (Persuasion) stands aloof."

Aeschylus, Fragment 141 Philoctetes (from Stobaeus, Anthology 4. 52. 32) : "[The wounded Philoktetes (Philoctetes) laments :] ‘O Death (thanatos), the healer (paian), reject me not, but come! For thou alone art the mediciner of ills incurable, and no pain layeth hold on the dead.’"

[angelesca]

w.c. 3.4k💀so much words for this crap / sunday x truckdriver!gnreader (dafuqq is this dynamic), small stories, 99% of the penacony cast are impressed by you(they should be), robin is a cutie pie, sunday is a closeted robin fan, you and sunday squabble daily, sunday your wonweek is showing💗, wrote this in the tumblr drafts vro🔥part crack [𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐬]: 1 ┃ 2 ┃...

a/n: farted this out bc i got inspired by this otome isekai manhwa i was reading [truck knight taekbae] + aesthetics inspired by [who made me a princess]

darkness monopolised your vision ever since you got here; day time never graced you. the insulated walls do their job well—only the vibrations, the frayed edges of sound, can be heard. 

chains grip your wrists, the metal twisting into your skin, wringing it like cloth. ouch. what now? maybe if you fart consecutively, and hard enough, you can blow your way out?

"brother... why…?" vibrations again. 

"don’t… monitor… danger."

the iron door creaks. light shines a single ray though the gap, and like the sun, the radiance blinds you. you squint your eyes, tracing the outline of two silhouettes.

the taller one approaches, each stride covering an equal, set amount of distance without a lost beat. "i have one question," their tone dashes against the whetstone, pointing a sharpened blade at you. "who are you?"

their eyes did not welcome any light, no reflection of you in them, as if you were only a whisper of the air. you feel the cracks in your throat. "me? i’m just a truck driver."

you are having tea with sunday.

after the less-than-ideal introductions, the picture cleared: you, a truck driver, are isekai’d into penacony via truck inception(?).

"i apologise for my manners," sunday sips his cup. "when you... suspisciously appeared in my bathroom, unresponding, there was no room to be courteous."

"sorry about that," you play with the rim of your cup awkwardly. "i'm not sure what happened either." the honest truth.

sunday shakes his head. he's majestic. "so, you said that you were…" he taps his chin.

"a truck driver."

"a criminal?"

"... truck driver."

“an assassin?”

"..." you almost turned into one.

little did you know, your lone walk was accompanied by a slithering shadow. except... it was no shadow. it was a dazzling spotlight that had fans and reporters following her repslendent glow, as expected of penacony's halovian songstress: robin.

"you mentioned you were a truck driver," finally, someone knows what a truck driver is. "will you allow me to see it?"

yes, your truck teleported into the dreamscape too. how could you live without them? they sit by a pavement on penacony's streets, hoarding the stares of confused citizens.

you watch an infinite cosmos flare in robin's incandescent eyes. your truck is just that impressive. "wow...! it's so beautiful!"

"what a curious machine," a blue and blonde-haired pair are analysing. "a vehicle that inefficiently operates on wheels? rather old-fashioned."

"what in the ever-lovin' fudge? my great-great-great-great-great gramps had one of those!"

"a sight of blissful beauty blooms before my eyes. amazing!"

“where am i?” 

“acheron, it hasnt even been a minute yet and you’re confused.”

people's eager stomping tremble the earth and sky. it's just that impressive. in the distance, an extra pair of wary eyes observe you.

"i admit, i am still suspiscious of you," sunday crosses one leg over the other. "robin sang nothing but praises. however, i'm afraid i'll need you under my surveillance to prove your trustworthiness."

urk. possessive much? "why are there knives, swords, and rocket launchers on the table?" sunday cocks an eyebrow at you, expecting you to make a move. "... i'm really not an assassin, sunday." but you do know his entire life story, so you're actually his stalker.

suddenly. the room blurs. an annoying static repeats, plucking the sensory wires from your circuit. is he... is he using his thingamajig powers?

"you may not be one... for now." he looks out a large window. you follow his gaze. wait a minute. what are they doing to-

“MY TRUUUUCK!!!” your passion transcends boundaries, past the lower-case and forcing the caps lock. lunging, you rush outside the mansion. "HEy!"

"aaaaa!! run!"

"eeek!"

"nyaa~!" who the hell was that?

"what the..." you are stunned. how dare they vandalise your truck! "was this your order?" you turn to sunday, infuriated.

"what will you do now?" a corner of his lips lifts, provoking.

you clench your fist. no one messes with you, the best truck driver, and only truck driver, in penacony.

hypothetically, if you got hit by a truck and ended up here, could you, a truck driver, hit a penaconian and isekai them over to your world?

"hey, robin?"

"hm?" her smile is innocent, gazing at you with a prospering kindness deserving of its own halo.

you smack your head. a dozen times over. then a few more.

"hey, aventurine?"

"hi hi~"

you shake your head. wouldn't his luck interfere? if anything, you'd be the one to get run over again.

"hey, acheron?"

"who are you?"

doesn't even know who you are despite telling her a minute ago. if she ended up in your world, she'd be asking the same question anyway: "where am i?"

you pick your nose. she'd slice you in half. period.

"hey, rappa."

"dazzling ninja rappa at your service!"

"as am i, the dimension-trespassing truck driving ninja!"

unfortunately, ninja roleplay with rappa is too fun. every friday, you play dnd together and you can't miss it this week.

there's only one person left.

"hey sun-"

"don't."

you stare blankly. "i didn't say anything?"

sunday glares back. "if you are going to speak to me, do it in front of me, and not while starting the engine of your truck."

"tch... damn."

"could i use your truck as a stage prop for my next concert?"

"oh, what if it suddenly rains?"

"what if i accidentally trip?"

you notice a gap in robin's behaviour. "how come you're so nervous today?"

robin looks at you, mouth on the verge of speaking. she looks down at her shoes. "hmm..." she tilts her head, lips mumbling. she hesitates, unready to spill her heart.

there's one thing you do best. you suggest, "why don't we go for a ride in my truck?"

robin's hunched back quickly reshapens itself. it's been some time since you've had a passenger, but with the way robin swiftly adjusts herself in the seats, excited, you don't worry about the mess in the truck. you start the vehicle, ready to stroll penacony's streets.

you hand her a piece of unexpired candy from a compartment, and she accepts the gesture. it doesn't take long before robin settles herself afterwards. she sighs. "... it's my brother, he'll be attending a show for the first time. i'm a bit nervous."

"why would he not be supportive?" you question.

robin shakes her head. "it may be because my brother is a perfectionist. i can't help but believe that he'll be expecting a flawless performance."

halovian songstress robin, a nation-wide icon, for her, expectations continually rise without rest. but for now, she sits next to you as robin herself, without the embellishments and performing. a breath of fresh air.

words of reassurance may be able to tend her heart. "make as many mistakes as you want," you comfort, "you are robin yourself before you are a singer, a civilian, and a sister."

the candy in her palm is scrunched. her heart, opens. robin herself, smiles. not because she is expected to, not because she is told to, but because she wants to. "thank you."

on the eighth day, grant... sunday getting down on one knee for you. wasn't this a bit fast?

your mouth opens. "are you proposing right now?"

"what are you on about?" sunday looks up at you, eyebrows scrunched. in his hands, a riiiiiiiiiiing- no, he's just cleaning his shoes with a cloth. better luck next time.

robin suggested to use your truck like a cabbie. that way, you can still keep your pride as a truck driver, and provide ears for wary hearts:

a student struggling with academics.

someone who doesn't know which direction to take.

the ramblings of a doctor whose words are spoken with precision, slicing his words into the victim's flesh. but behind the gloves are trembling hands that only wishes to sew tight the rotting wounds of a poor gambler, if only he would let him.

a galaxy ranger who witnessed the brevity of lives in the isolated expanse of the universe, walked along the shore of nihility. she departs with you her true name so that when she returns, your heart can accompany her solitude once more.

a young girl who cannot tell if the blood on her hands are someone else's, or her own. every allude to life reminded her of a deathly fate. however, as your passenger, she is reminded that she can forge a life of her own, undecided by destiny. penance and redemption, then, in the end, she hopes to regain her humanity.

you've listened to them all. unlocked each of their hearts, always gave back the key if they ever wanted to return again. turns out, the people of penacony are not much different from those in your world.

robin would pass out if she saw this.

from what you remember, there were 88 doors in the oak family's residence (you're a dedicated fan). you've explored each one, door 86, 87, 88... 89?

a secluded door that can only be seen with eagle eyes. the mystery kindles sparks in your chest, flaming curious fires. you slowly open the door. 86, 87, 88, 89... robins? (one for every door?) they all stare at you within their enclosures, as either posters, figurines, or books cover. in the middle sat a familiar head of grey hair, lowered, back turned towards you.

"sunday?"

the head moves up. gradually, it creaks. never in your life, did you expect to see a robin-crazed hidden room, nor a red-faced sunday. oh robin, the brother you were so worried about, is actually your no.1 fan. sunday's halovian wings flap furiously, doing nothing to cool his face down. his expression seems annoyed to have been caught in the act. "... what?"

"is this your robin shrine?" this is it. this will be your revenge, and the beginning tastes sweet. "so, you're the real criminal out of the two of us."

one can imagine the fumes blowing out of his ears. his eyes glisten, on the verge of tears. oops, he's really embarrassed.

you turn your face away, allowing sunday as much privacy as possible within his very private room. or rather, you are avoiding his eyes to suppress laughter. "you're coming to robin's concert, right?"

"you coming?" you gesture towards your majestic truck. it's a beautiful night for a truck ride.

sunday, your victim, is reluctant, of course. he probably still believes that you are an assassin who will run him over. "i won't die, will i?"

you huff. "i'm just a truck driver. what's the worse i could do? kidnap you?" sunday stares at you, frightened. it does not take much for him to believe in your potential for evil. "it's a joke... i'm not a criminal. or an assassin."

"just for a few minutes," he resigns. score. you open the door for sunday, who eventually sits down. you start the engine.

"welcome." sunday is in your truck. what an achievement. heh. you place your foot on the pedal.

it is silent apart from the engine's buzzing. you hand sunday an unexpired bag of chips from the compartment. he receives it, inspecting the packaging. his eyes trail to the window, studying how the sunset paints penacony with autumn's palette, but beyond it, he is watching the dots of people. you watch the melancholic sunday.

"what's on your mind?" you ask.

"nothing significant."

"well, the whole point of my trucking service is to listen to passengers." you turn the wheel. honestly, you don't know where you're going, and neither does sunday. the moon guides you tonight, two lost souls. "say anything."

sunday fiddles with the bag of chips. "...maintaining the oak family status, work, the people," he finally speaks, "it balances on my shoulders."

you hum, signalling him to continue.

"wouldn't a utopia free from suffering solve everything?"

quite a hard-hitting question for a truck driver, sunday. you nod. "of course. the only problem is that it is not real - everyone is forced into the current reality. it is harsh and cruel..." you blink. "but we are not powerless to it."

"how do you suggest we solve it?"

it is quiet for a moment before your mind wanders to every passenger you've had. they all had one thing in common. "i guess, a lot of people want a shoulder to lean on, an ear to open for them, and a voice to validate their feelings. we can do that."

all those passengers seemed to shine brighter at the end of the ride, ready to chase a dream. you may not be saving the world - you are no hero, just a truck driver - but you help tend the invisible wounds of people: the blood that drips from sharp words, the bruises that sting from deprecation, the headaches.

isn't it fine to take it slow? navigate the dark, little-by-little, and by the end, there will be an even brighter light.

"... i see." sunday watches your hands manoeuvre the truck's mechanics. the flick in your eyes that turn to him, to which he shies away from. then, he rests his eyes. as the truck drives, a silence hangs, one of quiet understanding. bit-by-bit, you gaze into sunday's heart.

it's been some time since you got run over.

adjusting to penacony was difficult at first. you had to adapt to life at the family's mansion, and the daily customs. however, the burden was eased slightly, all partly thanks to a special helper.

every morning, a cup of coffee or freshly-squeezed juice presents itself in the kitchen. every afternoon, your favourite bookshop always happens to have the book you wanted, already reserved for you. every night, your bedroom door slowly opens, quietly. your blanket, moves up to cover your torso. the mess in your room, rearranged and picked up. the back of a hand, feathers over your cheek. and nothing more happens. your little helper is easily satisfied at the sight of a peaceful you.

"does robin know about this room?" you are flipping through an ancient truck magazine.

sunday is wiping the display cabinets. his wings are flapping again, turning to you. "you didn't mention it to her, did you?"

"no, but she's going on tour soon after," you play with the corner of a page. "why don't you send her your encouragement?”

"what do you suggest?" he asks.

you look at the ceiling. it's full of robin's pictures. "a heartfelt letter? personally, i would buy her a truck but i don't think she needs that."

a small laugh escapes sunday's lips. you did not expect that. "that would be nice." he moves over to a desk, and from a drawer he pulls out a page adorned with blue flowers, and a pen.

you walk over to his desk. "you're into stationary?"

"i don't see why not," sunday says, "my work requires mostly writing, after all."

he begins from the top: 'dear sister,'. from there, sunday is a bit clumsy and awkward, asks her how the weather is and if she had breakfast. "... i've never done this before," is what he said. but gradually, the pen picks up, and the words flow. now, there was too much left unspoken when sunday reaches the final line, and had to cross out the sentence he was writing. a total of four pages, both sides filled, with more words waiting to be said - those would be left for when the siblings reunite.

"maybe we can have the people of penacony sign it too." you smile, imagining robin's elation when she reads it.

sunday nods. he scratches his signature and hands the paper to you. "here."

you take the pen, hesitant. "what's this for?"

sunday raises an eyebrow. "you're a citizen of penacony, are you not?"

... oh. were you? your throat dries. when did you become a part of penacony? weren't you... just a truck driver?

sunday watches you contemplate. a silence drawls. suddenly, he wraps his hand around yours, holding the pen still. "why are you hesitating?" nib meets page. ribbon by ribbon, the ink dances. "you belong here, don't you?"

your chest grows warm. you weren't expecting that either. full of surprises, aren't we? the same person that chained your hands and observed you, coldly answered to you, is offering his warmth. his hand is resolute, unwilling to let go. it reassure your doubts. you smile.

the pen lifts:

'from, your loving brother and, your dear friend.'

surprisingly, sunday has gotten comfortable with your presence in his forbidden robin cove. as you have with his in your magnificent truck.

yet, as much as you've driven closer, the gap is bottomless. sunday doesn't appreciate you looking at him, yet, he's allowed to drill holes in you when you're not aware?

you've asked robin, but she answered cryptically with a smile. "he used to watch over me as well, overprotective as always, but i'm sure that's his way of expressing himself when words fail him."

you reccount the passing moments.

a person more of action, lesser of words. for his people, he worked endlessly without their validation. for robin, he hid in the shadows of his much brighter devotion and support. for you, he let you slowly seep into his life, and you absorbed him into yours. a truck driver and an overqualified partner-in-crime.

quiet devotion is a tender song. without the beating of his loud commands, penacony would be left unprotected. without the instrumental scratching of his pen, there would be no light on the streets. without the percussive clicking of his shoes, the citizens would not be able to dance and celebrate.

this was sunday's song; no one else heard it, but it hums beneath the surface, invisible. those who press their ears against it can sense its vibrations. a silence that speaks louder than words or lyrics. and now, you can't mistake it, your heart beats to the silent song.

it is the night of robin's last stage in penacony. you and sunday stand on a balcony, watching over her. the final song sways along the night-caressed breeze, setting free the wings of hopeful listeners and dreamchasers.

though for a certain someone, he was using more of his eyes than ears. when you meet his golden pair, they turn away as usual.

"what's with you?" you lean against the railing.

his hands hide behind his back. "nothing significant."

"hey, i thought we were past that already. i told you i'm a truck driver who listen to their passengers."

silence hangs. a few more spoken words, "and? have you told your story?"

"me?"

his eyes find yours, but they don't turn away anymore. behind his role as penacony's figure and as a brother, it is sunday who is talking to you. in his gaze, it doesn't judge, impartial, waiting to listen, asking if it is okay for you to lend him your key.

he's come a long way into this journey. now, he awaits at your doorstep. the words catch in your throat. "i'm... just a truck driver..." you close your eyes. "a truck driver who got lost here."

sunday shakes his head. "i’m not asking about one miniscule part of your life. behind that is you who experienced a reality that built the person in front of me," his voice is shaky. an unsteady hand opens and closes, hopes to reach out for yours, but is uncertain. "i'm... asking for permission to learn all of you."

"..." robin's song is about to come to an end.

you look at the mirror. a mirror that always reflected only you, now fits one more person in the frame. that is your answer.

the you who is listening, reading, watching, all your past versions converge into this quiet meeting. usually, the mirror rejected, criticised, and distorted. but today, it finally listens. the mirror holds your reflection to be true. before you got to penacony, before you stood in the middle of a road, before you became a truck driver, you were...

"speak to me. i'm here to listen as you have for others." and keep that key to his heart, for it remains open unconditionally, always a place for you in there.

two losts souls, under the moon, found a home in each other.

a person closes the novel they were reading. they pick up their phone and start typing:

“-4.2/5 rating, absolute horror. where was robin at the end? i was waiting for her! and what’s with all the mirrors and life lessons? preeeeetty criiiinge. i'm reading a fantasy novel, not a lecture. why is mc even a truck driver anyways? also, not enough hand holding, and definitely not enough kissing. zero points!” this random nobody criticises, slamming fingers on the screen. they pause. “i wonder when the next volume will be released…”

a/n: great use of my holiday tbh, get everything out b4 i'm busy again💖i hate drawing hoyo charas they're so detailed, applause to all the hoyo artists u guys r goated fr i thought itd be cute to turn this into a series. i have some deleted ideas since i only wanted this to be a short piece (i got carried away smh). but tbh this fic ended off nicely, i dont think it needs continuing. idk. i like pistachio ice cream thanks for reading!!😲

[battleonthebigbridge]

This whole sequence is insane cos if you watch the background you can see the snake hunting the swan and then wrapping around it to eat it (it's the way that snakes hunt and consume their prey) and then the shots to the pure red eye of the snake and the dead swan, stripped of life and feathers. The hunter/hunted going crazy. Then the bits after showing more examples of the food chain in motion, hunters catching their prey and then paralleling it back to Acheron and Black Swan... Augh...

[shanxing-wu]

spoilers for hsr 3.2 story below the cut

my thoughts on some screenshots i saved while playing at 3am

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS

phainon, i think everyone was expecting you to be the one to study his body........

mister "that immortal body soaks up damage like a sponge. trust me, i've tested it myself".

mister i was the first to sign up for mydei's keeping up w/ star rail.

ok but his angry face is so cute i forgive him 🥰

if phainon is the one who EVERYONE is relying on to recreate/reincarnate the people of the new world according to his "perfect memories"... would there just be a sudden increase of people who look suspiciously like a certain kremnoan crown prince? who might share similar features or demeanors? and the aforementioned crown prince's reincarnation is a perfect, exact, MIRROR IMAGE replica of the previous cycle. i know this guy does not stop thinking about mydei for a SECOND. we're all doomed.

dan heng's mission log.... "they will be just fine. i sincerely pray so."

thinking about dan heng carrying trailblazer in his arms, desperately doing everything he can to save them. and to think that he inherited all of dan feng's gifts for cloudhymn magic, prowess with a spear– everything. except for healing.

i'm so curious about the full story of the previous cycle and who all those chrysos heirs were! and it's so interesting to me that they left the death coreflame for last, whereas it seems like in our present cycle we're leaving kephale coreflame for last? (or aquila, but i honestly think it will be kephale since it's kind of just... marinating idk...)

also curious about the chrysos heirs that became cerces and mnestia. were they lovers before they became titans? was this a love that transcended lifetimes, broke the chains of the cycle? after learning the story of polyxia saving her sister's life, it wouldn't be the first instance of love being that powerful.

(now i want to write fic about that happening with phainon and mydei. the voices...)

so what if i cried

i like to think, with this extreme close-up framing on his eyes and the way he stares longingly into the distance... the phaidei shipper in me thinks he's talking about phainon when he says "til the miracle descends." that here, at the border of life and death, fighting with everything he has not to give into death, he still trusts that phainon will be the one to deliver the miracle to him and release him from this cycle of endless fighting and deaths.

my first thought was that he's asking if aglaea is dtf here. and i thought: in front of all the dead gods? 😭 i honestly believed we were about to get another "competition in the hot baths" scene.

as a child of divorced parents myself.... this felt like two divorced parents talking about their son 😭

miscellaneous thoughts:

do NOT ask me how many times i had to replay the dialogue when cipher was on screen. i could not stop staring respectfully at her thigh strap. (i was actually really not interested in her design at all until i met her in 3.2. and discovered that i'm weak. so incredibly weak. and gay.)

phainon giving epic, emotional, dramatic speech in front of the entire population of okhema: mem mememem memem mem MYDEI memem mememememem

the casual lore drop that hysilens is dead?? are we not going to talk more about that, castorice??

i loved this story so much. it confirmed so many of my theories but left me with so many questions still???

so many great cameos. mydei and trianne. ACHERON.

THE ENDING WAS INSANE??? CONFIRMATION THAT DESTRUCTION IS THE THIRD PATH? LORD RAVAGER??? WHAT?

in my opinion 3.1 is still my favorite story update (i'm incredibly biased for mydei), but 3.2 was still incredibly fun and jaw-dropping and beautiful. i'm already counting down the days til 3.3.

[nihilityuniverse]

𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐱 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ 𝗦𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇʏᴠᴀᴛ 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗕𝗼𝘀𝘀.

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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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Story inspired by Acheron's Lore, Power, and Personality...

ENG is not my First language

I do not own Genshin Impact or any of the pictures used.

Do NOT Repost.

Story is also available on Wattpad.

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕

𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐑𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐢𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

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[𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗦𝗲𝘅𝘂𝗮𝗹/𝗠𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 - 𝗕𝗗𝗦𝗠-𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗞]

You slowly wake from a deep, dreamless sleep, your body heavy with the warmth of rest. As your eyes flutter open, you realize you're nestled securely in Zhongli's arms. His body radiates a comforting heat, making you feel drowsy all over again.

Everything around you feels so perfect, so serene, despite the lingering soreness in your legs. Instinctively, you shuffle closer to him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent.

Zhongli stirs as you move, his hold on you tightening slightly before he gently presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Good morning, love," he whispers, his voice deep and soothing. "Did you sleep well?"

You nod sleepily, murmuring against his skin, "Yes, I did. How about you?"

His chest rumbles with a soft chuckle as he pulls you even closer, "I slept perfectly, with you in my arms."

A soft blush warms your cheeks as you whisper, "I love you."

Zhongli's smile deepens at your words. With gentle ease, he pulls you up, guiding you to sit on his lap. His amber eyes meet yours before he leans in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. "I love you too," he murmurs against your lips, his voice a soft caress.

He pulls back slightly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

"Let's get ready," he says, his tone warm yet practical. "Today is going to be a long day."

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You find yourself back in the same luxurious dressing room as yesterday, the air thick with the scent of peach blossoms and the quiet rustle of silk.

The attendants work with careful precision, draping you in a revealing, shimmering white dress that clings to your every curve. The fabric is encrusted with crystals and diamonds that catch the light with every subtle movement, making you glimmer like a living constellation.

The dress stops daringly high at your thighs, each step dangerously close to revealing the curve of your ass.

The material hugs your body tightly, accentuating the seductive curve of your hips, the cinch of your waist, and the generous swell of your breasts. The neckline plunges low, leaving your décolletage exposed, with no straps or high collar to distract from the beauty of your bare skin.

Around your small waist, delicate chains of sparkling crystals are loosely draped, the ends adorned with larger gemstones that sway with your every movement, drawing attention to the seductive shape of your body. Your feet are encased in crystal-like high heels, adding height and elegance to your already alluring form.

To complete the look, a luxurious, fluffy fur scarf is draped over your arm, hanging loosely and brushing against your bare skin. The softness of the fur contrasts with the hard, glittering crystals, adding a touch of sensuality to the ensemble.

As you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you can't help but admire the breathtaking effect of your ensemble — the dress, the shimmering jewels, and the luxurious fur all combine to make you look utterly irresistible.

Yet, as you take in your reflection, a sense of incompleteness nags at you. Something is missing.

Your hand instinctively brushes over your bare neck, and a longing stirs within you.

Your collar.

The absence of it feels almost wrong, like a piece of you is missing.

Your eyes drift back to the mirror, focusing on the delicate skin of your neck. There, lingering like a beautiful secret, are the remnants of last night's passion — faint kiss marks, bruised nibbles, and the deep, possessive bite where Zhongli marked you as his. The sight sends a shiver down your spine, reminding you of the intensity of his claim.

The marks are a stark contrast against your otherwise polished appearance, a hidden truth beneath the glamour. You can't help but trace your fingers over the sensitive skin, remembering the feel of his teeth sinking in, the way your body responded to his dominance.

The thought of it makes you yearn for the collar even more, the tangible symbol of his ownership that you crave to wear again.

Your legs began to tremble once more, the soreness from the previous night making it difficult to stand.

Sensing your discomfort, one of the attendants quickly guided you to a plush couch, where you could rest. With a gentle smile, they handed you a cup of peach tea. You accepted it gratefully, the warm, fragrant liquid soothing you as you sipped it, a contented smile playing on your lips.

The peachy sweetness of the tea faded faster than you expected, replaced by an odd ache in your right fingers.

For a moment, the thick, sweet scent in the room seemed to dissipate, and your senses sharpened. But as you took another sip, the familiar sweetness returned, filling your senses once again, yet the dull ache in your fingers lingered, a curious sensation you couldn't quite place. The thought of it drifted away as you finished your tea.

"Lady Y/N? It's time to meet Rex Lapis," one of the attendants softly announced.

A blush crept across your cheeks at the mention of Zhongli, your lover. It hadn't been long since you last saw him, but the craving to be near him again was overwhelming.

"Yes..." you murmured, anticipation tingling in your veins.

The attendants gently helped you to your feet, steadying your shaky legs as they guided you. Your excitement to be near Zhongli made you eager, and you tried to walk faster, though your legs trembled beneath you.

Each step you took sent the sound of your heels clicking sharply through the corridor, the delicate crystals on your dress rustling with each movement.

After what felt like an eternity, you reached the end of the long, opulent corridor, where massive golden doors loomed before you. The attendants pushed the heavy doors open, revealing the grandeur of the hall within.

The floor gleamed like a mirror, reflecting the golden light that seemed to emanate from everywhere. Dragons coiled around every surface, their intricate designs carved into the walls, pillars, and even the ceiling, where a stunning depiction of you and Zhongli embracing was etched into the golden surface.

Your gaze drifted forward, and there he was — Zhongli, seated on a grand golden throne, the very image of regality. The throne, like the rest of the room, was intricately decorated, seemingly crafted from Cor Lapis itself, radiating a rich, amber glow.

His presence dominated the space, and as your eyes met his, your heart pounded in your chest. The sheer power of his gaze, coupled with the memory of the previous night, made the air between you feel electric, charged with a tension that made your breath quicken.

Zhongli tapped his lap, and with trembling legs, you hurried over, brushing off the attendants who tried to steady you. You were too eager, too desperate to be near him again. You sank onto his lap, your body melting against his, and looked up at him with wide, adoring eyes, meeting his intense amber gaze that seemed to pierce through you.

His gloved hand reached up to grip your chin, tilting your face so he could examine you closely. His eyes bore into yours, scrutinizing your pupils, which were now fully dilated, a clear sign that the drug had taken complete control over you. His lips curled into a dark, satisfied smirk. The last remnants of restraint fell away; now he could fully indulge in you without hesitation.

"You've been such a good girl, haven't you?" he cooed, his thumb brushing softly over your lips. His eyes drifted down to your neck, where his earlier marks — his kisses and bites — stood out starkly against your skin. The large, prominent dragon-mark he had left on you the night before claimed you as his, and he reveled in the sight. He leaned in, his lips grazing over the sensitive mark, sending a shiver through your body, before placing a kiss on it.

He pulled back slightly, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Something's missing, isn't it?"

"M-my... collar," you responded, your voice tinged with a soft sadness as you realized its absence. The collar was more than just an accessory; it was a symbol of your submission, your connection to him.

Zhongli chuckled, clearly pleased with your response. "Good girl," he murmured approvingly. 

He reached down to retrieve a new collar — a striking piece made of white, shiny leather, embedded with glimmering diamonds. The luxury of it matched the importance it held for both of you. 

He fastened the collar around your neck, tightening it more than before. The leather pressed snugly against your throat, making you gasp and moan in a mix of pleasure and desperation. The restriction on your breathing left you feeling lightheaded, a dizzying sensation that only heightened your arousal. You loved the way it choked you, how it made you feel so completely under his control.

With a click, he attached the leash to the collar and gave it a sharp tug, pulling you roughly closer to him. The force of it made your heart race, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you stared up at him with a look of pure need.

Zhongli's amber eyes captivated you completely, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. The longer you gazed into them, the more they seemed to expand, pulling you deeper into their hypnotic glow. It was as if those glowing amber orbs were your entire world, the only light in your existence. 

The drug had taken full effect, warping your perception, amplifying every sensation until it was almost unbearable. Your thoughts swirled in a haze of desire and obsession, leaving no room for anything but him. The idea of anyone or anything else had completely evaporated.

Zhongli was everything. His handsome face, his powerful presence, the way his eyes held you captive — it was all-consuming. Your mind could only think of him, and your body responded in kind, trembling with need, aching to be touched by him. You existed solely for his pleasure, to fulfill his every desire. What were you doing before? It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was being by his side, being his.

You pressed your big tits against his broad chest, your gaze never wavering from his eyes, lost in the depths of his amber stare. 

"I... ah, I am a good girl for you only..." you whispered, your voice trembling with desperation. Even forming words was a challenge; your thoughts were scattered, disjointed, as the drug clouded your mind. A trail of spit slipped from the corner of your beautiful lips, a testament to how far gone you were, how utterly under his control you had become.

Zhongli's eyes darkened with satisfaction, his gaze taking on a predatory glint as he leaned back into his throne, fully enjoying the sight of you unraveling before him. 

"Aren't you such a mess for me, hm?" he purred, licking his lips in anticipation. He loved seeing the drug's effects, how it stripped away your inhibitions and left you so completely vulnerable to him.

His gloved hand moved to your lower back, sliding down to your big ass. He lifted your already short dress, revealing that you weren't wearing any underwear — your bare ass exposed and ready for him. You were always ready for him, always eager to satisfy his every hunger and lust.

With a sharp, deliberate motion, he slapped your ass hard with his leathered glove, making it bounce under the impact. The sting of the blow sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you moaned loudly, your body arching into his touch. The pain only heightened your desire, making you crave more. You were completely at his mercy, a willing toy in his hands, and nothing had ever felt so good.

The grand doors to the throne room creaked open, a subtle intrusion on your intimate moment with Zhongli. A soft knock followed, but before the person could speak, Zhongli's firm voice echoed through the chamber. "Come in."

As the doors parted, a young woman with cerulean blue hair and black-red horns stepped inside. She was Ganyu, one of the Adeptus. Her presence demanded respect, but her eyes flickered briefly to you before she knelt at the base of the throne, head bowed low to the ground.

Annoyed by the interruption, you pouted, nuzzling your face into the crook of Zhongli's neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent. The possessiveness you felt for him flared, and you clung to him tighter, unwilling to share his attention, even for a moment.

"What are you here for?" Zhongli's voice, though calm, carried an underlying authority that left no room for disobedience.

"Lord Rex Lapis, I came to report," Ganyu began, her voice echoing in the vast, opulent hall. "We have successfully persuaded the people of Liyue that the Geo Archon is not dead and fabricated a believable story with evidence to support it."

You couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as she addressed your lover so formally. The way she spoke to him, the way she occupied even a fraction of his attention, made you cling to him even tighter. Sensing your unease, Zhongli's hand tightened on your ass, his grip firm and reassuring.

"Good work," he acknowledged her efforts before shifting his focus. "What about the preparations?"

"Everything is ready. The seal can be activated at any time," Ganyu reported, her head still bowed.

As she spoke, Zhongli's leather-gloved hand slid down between your ass cheeks, fingers teasingly brushing against your pussy. You shivered, trying to suppress the moan that threatened to escape as he began to play with you, pushing his fingers in and out with calculated precision. The sensation was overwhelming, your body responding instantly to his touch, but you buried your face deeper into his neck, trying to muffle the sounds of your pleasure.

"And the drug?" Zhongli's voice was steady, betraying none of the sinful actions happening beneath the throne. His fingers continued their relentless assault, making it increasingly difficult for you to stifle your moans.

"We have finally enhanced the effects of the Peach Drug," Ganyu continued, unaware of the intimate scene above her. "It now lasts over a year without the need for re-administration."

"Good," Zhongli responded, his tone satisfied. "You may leave."

Ganyu quickly rose, her ears tinged with red as she caught a glimpse of your writhing form, still seated on Zhongli's lap, your body surrendering to his expert touch. She left without another word, her eyes averted, as you moaned softly into his neck, the door closing behind her.

Zhongli withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips as he licked them clean, savoring your taste. "Now, where were we, my love?" he whispered, his amber eyes glowing with desire as he turned his full attention back to you.

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Zhongli carried you effortlessly in his arms, his strength unyielding even after the intense session that had left you utterly spent. Your cheeks flushed a deep red, and your body felt heavy, filled with the warmth of his seeds. 

Exhaustion clung to you, but Zhongli remained as composed as ever, his steps steady as he walked through the long, opulent corridor. You nestled your head into the crook of his neck, comforted by his familiar scent, while your gaze drifted downward to the shiny marble floor, where your reflection wavered in the polished surface.

Then, a sharp ache radiated through your right hand, more intense than before. The sudden pain pierced through the lingering fog in your mind, momentarily clearing the haze that had clouded your thoughts. 

A sense of disorientation washed over you, a nagging feeling that something was amiss. Something important. Something you had always kept with you, something you never parted with except in sleep. But what was it?

Your puzzled gaze fell to your right hand, the ache still pulsing beneath your skin. The fog in your mind made it hard to think clearly, but as you stared, you saw something strange — golden cracks forming along your skin, and from those cracks, delicate flowers bloomed, their petals shifting from gold to white. Your fingernails, long and sharp like golden claws, gleamed ominously.

A sudden, overwhelming craving surged through you, a dark desire for blood, for destruction. It consumed you, an intense bloodlust that made everything else feel insignificant, worthless. The urge to obliterate everything around you was almost unbearable.

But then, in the blink of an eye, it was gone. The flowers, the cracks, the claws — all vanished as if they had never been. You blinked, confusion swirling in your mind. An illusion? The sense of déjà vu lingered, as if you had experienced this strange vision before, but the clarity it brought was already fading, the fog threatening to return.

Why does everything feel so strange? 

The fog in your mind, once so thick and all-encompassing, is starting to lift, but only just. It's as if you're standing on the edge of a dream, half-aware, but still lost in its clutches. 

The words of that girl from before — what did she say? Something about a drug... Yes, a drug. The word echoes in your mind, and then, like a flash of lightning, realization strikes.

Your eyes widen, heart pounding in your chest as the truth seeps in.

Morax drugged you. 

But how? And why? The answers are just out of reach, hidden in the mist that still clouds your thoughts. You try to piece it together, but your mind is like quicksand, pulling you back into confusion with every step you take toward clarity.

You need to calm down, but it's nearly impossible with the panic surging through you. Morax... Zhongli... He's plotting something, something terrible. But what? Is he going to seal you away? Force you into a contract? The fragments of their earlier conversation swirl around in your head, but they're so jumbled you can barely grasp them. Time is slipping through your fingers, and you know you need to act, but what can you do?

You're so weak, so defenseless in this state, and the drug is still in your system, pulling you back into the fog with every passing second. You try to think, to remember anything that could help you, but it's like trying to hold water in your hands — everything slips away before you can grasp it. Your thoughts grow more disjointed, more frantic, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of losing control.

But you can't give in. Not yet. You fight against the haze, struggling to keep your mind clear, to think of a way out. But it's so hard, and your strength is fading. 

What can you do? What can you possibly do? 

The more you try to think, the more elusive the answers become, and the more desperate you feel. The fog is thickening again, threatening to drag you back under, and you know you don't have much time left.

You glance down at your right hand, wondering if the strange illusion you saw earlier was a clue — a way to break free from the drug's grip on your mind. Desperation claws at you as you try to piece together what's real and what's not.

"L-love? Where are we going?" Your voice wavers, laced with uncertainty, but also a calculated attempt to buy some time. Zhongli, fortunately, doesn't seem to notice. 

He smiles, planting a tender kiss on your head, a gesture that makes your heart flutter despite your growing fear.

"We're going to a very special room," he replies, his voice soothing, almost hypnotic.

Shit. 

You cling to him tighter, trying to ground yourself, but that kiss... It feels so good. 

You shouldn't like it, you remind yourself. It's the drug, twisting your thoughts, making you crave his touch, his affection. But then another part of you whispers, Why resist? Why not enjoy the pleasure, the comfort, the security of his love?

'No, it's the drug...' you mentally argue, trying to push away the warmth spreading through your body. But it's getting harder to distinguish what the drug is making you feel from what might actually be your true emotions. You're slipping, and you know it.

"Wha... wh-what special room, love?" you stammer, struggling to form coherent words as the fog in your mind thickens.

"A special room where you will forever become mine..." His voice drops to a low, predatory growl, sending shivers down your spine.

"...Ah... fo-forever?" The word catches in your throat, a mix of dread and something else—something that frightens you even more.

"Yes," he murmurs, his tone possessive. "You will become forever my good little girl."

Your heart races, but the confusion only deepens. A part of you thrills at his words, at the idea of being his, of being praised as his 'good girl.' It feels right, like it's exactly what you want. But another part of you screams that this isn't real, that you're being manipulated, drugged into submission.

"I... I am so happy," you say, but the words feel hollow, disconnected from your true feelings. Or maybe they are your true feelings? You don't know anymore. You can't tell where the drug's influence ends and your own desires begin. It's like you're trapped in a web, unable to distinguish between pleasure and fear, love and control.

You're losing yourself, and the worst part is you can't tell if you even want to fight it anymore.

"We're here, love," Zhongli murmurs, stopping before a colossal door that towers high above, stretching to meet the ceiling. 

The door's surface shimmers in a pale peach hue, almost translucent, like a barrier between reality and a dream. Even in your drugged state, you can sense the immense power radiating from it — a barrier that keeps something in, or perhaps, something out. 

Xiao, standing stoically as a sentinel beside the door, steps forward and opens it for Zhongli. The door swings open with a soft creak, and as soon as you both step inside, it closes behind you with a resounding bang.

Zhongli gently sets you down, and your feet touch the soft, cool ground. You blink, trying to take in the sight before you. It's... not just a room — it's something beyond your comprehension, something out of a fever-dream, or a paradise you might find in the most vivid of fantasies.

Your eyes widen in awe and confusion as you survey the vast expanse before you. The sky overhead is bathed in a pale pink light, almost as if dawn has just broken, yet it feels eternal, as if time doesn't exist here. 

The grass beneath your feet is lush and green, dotted with peach-colored flowers in full bloom. Real peaches hang from the trees — trees that are ancient, majestic, with leaves that shimmer in hues of lavender and gold. The scent of fresh blossoms fills the air, sweet and intoxicating.

In the center of this strange paradise is a lake, its waters a mesmerizing shade of pink, surrounded by more of those ethereal peach flowers. The water glows faintly, as if lit from within by some unseen force. Far beyond the lake, a grand palace looms in the distance, its structure so intricate and beautiful that it seems to have been crafted by the gods themselves.

You feel like you've stepped into a world torn between a dream and a nightmare, a place that is both enchanting and terrifying. The beauty is undeniable, yet there's something unsettling about it all. The paradise stretches on infinitely, without borders, without end — just like the strange hold Zhongli has over you. You can't tell if you're in a perfect dream or trapped in a beguiling illusion.

You clutched the fluffy fur scarf draped loosely around your arms, pulling it tighter as a wave of uncertainty washed over you.

"Wh-what is this place?" you stammered, your gaze drifting upwards to the pink sky where fish swam lazily among the clouds, an impossible, surreal sight.

"Your new home," Zhongli replied, his voice calm yet carrying an ominous undertone.

Suddenly, he yanked sharply on the leash attached to your collar, pulling you forward with a jolt. You gasped, struggling to catch your breath as the collar tightened around your throat, nearly choking you... not that you hated it.

He continued walking, leading you down to the edge of the lake, the collar pressing against your neck with each tug. The flowers beneath your feet seemed untouched, resilient under your weight as if they weren't really there at all.

"Are you excited to become my wife?" he asked, his voice soft, almost tender. You nodded instinctively, your thoughts clouded, unsure whether to feel joy or dread.

"Y-yes..." you murmured, your voice trailing off, the word barely audible.

Without warning, he pulled on the leash again, guiding you into the lake. The water was cool against your skin, refreshing in a way that sent shivers down your spine. It lapped gently at your thighs as you followed him to the center of the lake, the surface of the water shimmering like liquid silk. You had no idea why you were there, what he intended to do with you, but the tension in the air was palpable.

A sudden flare of pain shot through your right hand, more intense than before. You glanced down, catching a fleeting glimpse of golden cracks and blooming flowers on your skin before they vanished as quickly as they appeared. The pain grounded you, cutting through the fog that threatened to overtake your mind.

Zhongli jerked the leash again, pulling you forcefully against his chest. The sudden movement made you choke, the collar biting into your throat as you collided with his body. His arm wrapped possessively around your waist, holding you close. "You look so beautiful..." he murmured, his voice smooth and hypnotic. "So perfect..." Slowly, he began lowering you into the pink water, the cool liquid rising up to envelop your body.

"Tonight, your body, your heart, and your soul will become mine and mine alone," he whispered, his words echoing ominously as he submerged you deeper into the water.

Strangely, you found that you could breathe, the water slipping into your mouth, making you dizzy, your thoughts swirling in a haze. Yet, the persistent pain in your right hand kept you tethered to reality, resisting the drug's full effect.

"And you will become my dearest wife..." His voice echoed eerily through the water as he pressed you down to the lake's bottom, the pressure increasing, the pink water around you shimmering like a twisted dream.

The bottom of the lake seemed to melt away beneath you, the ground slipping from your grasp as you began to sink deeper into the depths.

The pink water, once bright and vibrant, grew darker with each passing moment, enveloping you in a swirling haze of color. You felt Zhongli's arms around you, holding you close as you descended, his amber eyes glowing with an ethereal light that pierced through the murky water.

As you drifted further into the lake's endless abyss, the water grew thicker, heavier, pressing against your body from all sides. It wasn't just water — it was the enhanced Peach drug, saturating every inch of your being, seeping into your skin, your mouth, and your mind. The drug wrapped around you like a velvet shroud, pulling you deeper into its grasp.

The haze in your mind thickened, your thoughts becoming sluggish, like you were trying to swim through honey. You felt your consciousness teetering on the edge, slipping in and out of focus.

Yet, amid the overwhelming fog, a sharp pain flared in your right hand. It was the only thing that kept you anchored to reality, a burning sensation that cut through the drug's effects like a hot knife.

The pain intensified, pulsing with a strange energy that made you crave something — something just out of reach. You couldn't tell what it was, but the need was powerful, a desperate, primal urge that gnawed at your insides.

You sank further and further down, the pink water darkening to a deep, almost blood-red hue as you descended into the lake's unknown depths.

Your vision blurred, Zhongli's glowing eyes the only constant in the swirling chaos around you. The drug's influence grew stronger, pulling you toward unconsciousness, yet the pain in your hand kept dragging you back, tethering you to a thin thread of awareness.

The world around you began to fade, the edges of your vision darkening as you drifted between consciousness and the drug-induced dream state. You weren't sure if you were still sinking or if you had reached the lake's bottom, lost in an endless void.

Zhongli gazed down at you, his amber eyes filled with an obsessive adoration that bordered on madness. Your face, serene and vulnerable, lay half-hidden beneath the water's surface, your eyes fluttering open just enough for him to see the flicker of confusion still clinging to your drugged mind. 

He knew you were hiding things — who you truly were, where you came from, the secrets of a world beyond his reach. But that didn't matter anymore. You couldn't escape him, not now. Not ever.

He had gone to great lengths to create this world for you, a gilded paradise where time stretched infinitely, a place where he could keep you all to himself. No prying eyes, no interruptions, just you and him in this boundless, dreamlike realm. It was a golden cage, crafted with meticulous care, where he could savor every moment with you, unravel every mystery you held, until there was nothing left but your raw, unfiltered devotion.

His fingers traced the delicate curve of your throat, gliding down to your chest, where they rested between the soft swell of your breasts. His touch was possessive, claiming you inch by inch as if he were engraving his very essence into your skin. A golden light began to glow beneath his fingertips, and slowly, a Geo symbol took form between your breasts, pulsating with an otherworldly energy.

You arched your back, a moan slipping from your lips as the symbol burned into your flesh, binding you to him in a way that was beyond mere physicality. Zhongli's breath hitched at the sound, his obsession deepening as he watched you succumb to the sensations he orchestrated. This was what he had been waiting for, what he had been planning for so long — your complete and utter submission.

"This is your destiny," he murmured, his voice a soft, dangerous whisper. "You were meant to be mine, to surrender every part of yourself to me. Your body, your mind, your soul... all belong to me now."

The Geo symbol pulsed brighter, a tether binding your soul to his will, inescapable and eternal. His fingers pressed deeper, drawing out another moan, and he couldn't help but smile — a dark, satisfied smile that spoke of his possessive nature. He had been patient, so painfully patient, waiting for this moment where he could finally seal the bond that would make you his forever.

"Your soul will tell me everything," he continued, his voice laced with a mixture of tenderness and cruelty. "Every secret, every desire, every fear. You won't be able to hide from me anymore. You will be mine, forever."

Zhongli leaned down, his lips brushing against the symbol glowing on your skin, and you felt a surge of heat that made you tremble. This was no ordinary contract — this was a bond that would tie your very essence to his, ensuring that you could never leave, never break free. You were his, and he would never let you go.

"Now," he whispered, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction, "you will be my beautiful wife, bound to me in every way that matters. No one will ever take you from me. You are mine, and mine alone."

The finality in his words echoed in the depths of your mind, and as the last remnants of resistance faded away, you knew there was no escape. Zhongli had claimed you, body and soul, and in this endless, golden world he had created, you would remain by his side for all eternity.

As Zhongli pressed harder against your chest, his power surged through you, a searing force that threatened to tear your very soul from its vessel. The sensation was agonizing, like your essence was being wrenched from your body, dragged against its will into the cold, unforgiving abyss. The world around you blurred as consciousness slipped away, but in the darkness, something ancient and malevolent stirred.

'Did you know?'

Zhongli's focus sharpened, channeling his elemental energy to breach the barrier between your soul and his will. He sought to uncover your deepest secrets, to see the desires and fears that lay hidden within the recesses of your mind. 

But in his arrogance, he failed to notice the transformation taking place on your right hand. The skin cracked, golden lines spreading like fissures, from which bloomed ethereal gold-to-white flowers, pulsating with a dreadful energy.

'If you gaze long enough into the Abyss...'

His voice rang out, commanding, "Show me everything. Every desire you hold, every fear, and... your entirety."

'The Abyss will gaze back into you...'

Zhongli's gaze met yours, your half-closed eyes barely responsive. Then, the vision struck him with the force of a tempest. 

He saw a world devoid of color, everything cast in shades of gray. The air was thick with despair, the ground littered with the bodies of the fallen, severed in grotesque and unnatural ways. And there you stood, a spectral figure among the carnage, holding a long sword that gleamed with an otherworldly light. Your form, too, was gray and lifeless, save for your eyes — those striking, golden eyes that bore into his very soul.

"Excuse me, did you ask?" 

Your voice was a cold, raw whisper, devoid of emotion, yet it cut through the air like a blade. It was terrifying, inhuman, a sound that carried the weight of countless atrocities.

Zhongli's eyes widened in shock, but before he could react, a torrent of raw, unfiltered bloodlust surged from you, a tidal wave of hatred and fury that consumed him utterly. The serene pink waters around you turned crimson, as if soaked in the blood of the countless lives you had claimed. The colorless world erupted into a vivid, violent red, the hue of slaughter and madness.

Your appearance shifted, becoming something out of a nightmare. Your hair turned stark white, your golden eyes glowing with a hellish intensity. From your head sprouted twisted, golden horns — one torn as if in battle. The bloodlust radiating from you was suffocating, a force so overwhelming that Zhongli felt it crushing his spirit. He tried to pull away, but your power held him fast, dragging him back into the nightmare that was your true self.

He struggled, but it was like being caught in the coils of a monstrous serpent, a predator that had no intention of releasing its prey. Images flashed before his eyes — a snake coiled around its victim, tightening its grip until the life was squeezed out; a cheetah pouncing on a gazelle, the sharp claws ripping into flesh; a bear tearing into a rabbit with merciless force; a shark circling, then striking with lethal precision. Each vision was a reflection of your nature, a being of relentless, primal violence.

And then, as if the universe itself recoiled, a black hole appeared — a flickering image of IX, an abyss of unfathomable darkness. Zhongli felt an overwhelming fear, a terror that clawed at his mind as he was pulled inexorably toward it. The bloodlust was no longer just around him; it was inside him, devouring him from within, a dark, voracious force that threatened to obliterate everything he was.

He tried to escape, but there was no escape. The bloodlust gripped him like a vice, pulling him deeper into the abyss where only you existed — an entity of pure, unrelenting destruction. And as the darkness closed in, he knew, with a cold, sinking certainty, that he had made a grave mistake in underestimating the true nature of the one he sought to claim.

Suddenly, the bloodlust dissipated, and the world snapped back into its eerie normalcy. The water reverted to its soft pink hue, and your appearance settled back into its familiar form. But your eyes remained different — cold, intimidating, and brimming with a chilling clarity.

"What do you think you're doing?" Your voice cut through the silence like a blade, sharp and merciless. Zhongli's eyes widened in shock, but before he could respond, your fist connected with his abdomen with brutal force. The impact sent him hurtling through the air, tearing him from the seemingly endless stretch of water.

You glanced down at your right hand, noting the golden cracks and blooming flowers that adorned your skin. "This explains a lot..." you muttered, piecing together the fragments of your fragmented memories.

Where were your finger guards? They were vital — they served as an extra seal, a binding force to keep your MANTIS form in check. Without them, the risk of losing control loomed dangerously close, and you knew all too well that out of the Fourteen, your mastery over your MANTIS form was the weakest. The drug's hold on you had vanished, its effects reduced to nothing more than a fleeting memory.

In an instant, you moved with a speed that defied reason, slipping out of the water with a grace that was almost unnatural.

Zhongli was still airborne, caught in the aftermath of your punch, when you appeared above him. With a swift, decisive kick, you sent him crashing into the ground with such force that the earth trembled beneath him, a cloud of dust rising from the impact.

Zhongli groaned in pain, clutching his abdomen, his eyes narrowing in realization. He had made a grave error in underestimating you, in attempting to peer into the depths of your soul. What he had found was not a well of secrets to exploit, but an abyss — one that should never have been disturbed.

You stepped through the dust cloud, your form emerging like a specter of death. Your gaze bore down on him with disdain, as though he were nothing more than a worthless insect beneath your heel. 

"Divine Key, Nihility, come forth," you commanded, your voice devoid of emotion. You extended your right arm, and in a flash of light, the Divine Key materialized in your hand, a weapon of immense power that seemed to warp the very air around it.

It was only then that Zhongli noticed the golden cracks and the blooming flowers on your hand, and a terrifying realization dawned on him. Could it be that you were...?

The thought trailed off as he stared up at you, the weight of his mistake settling heavily on his shoulders. He had unleashed something far more dangerous than he had ever anticipated, and now, he was at the mercy of a power he could not hope to control.

"I don't know what you want from me, what you hoped to gain..." Your voice was a low, dangerous whisper as your crystalline heels crushed the delicate flowers beneath your steps, each one wilting into nothingness. 

"But what you did to me, Morax..." With a swift, decisive motion, you tore the tight collar from your throat, casting it to the ground where it shattered into fragments, the embedded diamonds and crystals scattering like worthless debris.

"I will never forgive you," you continued, your voice icy with the weight of your fury. 

The memories of his violations, the sinful acts he had forced upon your body, surged to the forefront of your mind. But more than that, the binding contract he had dared to place on the entirety of your soul burned in your thoughts. A contract that, thanks to the other half of your soul — IX, the Aeon of Nihility — had been reduced to nothingness. The mere thought of it stoked the fires of your wrath. You grasped the handle of your Divine Key with a grip that promised bloodshed, your intentions clear.

Across from you, Zhongli slowly rose to his feet, his expression hardening as his spear materialized in his hand. He could feel the shift in your aura, the lethal edge of your resolve. But he was the Geo Archon, the strongest god and Archon in all of Teyvat, and he would not go down without a fight.

The battlefield was set, and the tension between you was palpable, a charged silence that promised nothing short of a cataclysmic clash.

The serene paradise he had crafted was now a battleground, the tranquil beauty of the endless lake and pink-hued sky a stark contrast to the violence about to unfold.

Morax, the Geo Archon, was a god of stone and earth, a being of immense power whose strength was drawn from the very bones of the world. His spear, a weapon forged in the crucible of countless wars, gleamed with a menacing light as he readied himself for the coming fight. The earth beneath his feet trembled slightly as his elemental energy surged, responding to his unspoken command. He was prepared to unleash the full might of his geo power — shaping the land, summoning stone walls, and hurling massive boulders with but a thought.

You, however, were not of this world. Your origins were far more ancient, far more terrifying than the people of Teyvat could ever comprehend. The power of Nihility coursed through your veins, a destructive force that could reduce all matter to nothingness. The golden cracks on your right hand, still glowing from your earlier confrontation, were a reminder of the terrible power that lay dormant within you — a power you struggled to control. But you had no intention of using your Divine Key, not yet. This fight would be won with skill, not sheer force.

The moment hung in the air, taut as a bowstring, before snapping as Morax launched the first attack. He thrust his spear forward, and the ground beneath you exploded upwards, a jagged pillar of stone shooting towards your chest. You reacted instantly, sidestepping with lightning speed, your heel barely brushing the ground as you avoided the lethal strike. The pillar crumbled into dust as it missed its mark, but Morax was already on the move, his spear spinning in a deadly arc toward your head.

You ducked under the blow, your body moving with a fluid grace that belied the fury simmering beneath the surface. As his spear passed over you, you twisted your body and delivered a swift kick to his side. The force of the blow sent Morax skidding backward, but his expression remained calm, his eyes narrowing as he adjusted his stance.

In response, the earth trembled once more as Morax summoned a wave of geo energy, the ground around you erupting in a series of stone spikes that sought to impale you. But you were faster, your form flickering like a phantom as you danced between the deadly spikes, each movement precise and controlled. As the last spike shot up, you flipped backward, landing lightly on your feet.

"Do your worst," you said, your tone aloof, almost bored, but the sharpness in your eyes betrayed the readiness of a predator about to strike.

His only response was a low growl as he lunged at you, the air crackling with power. This time, his spear was a blur of motion, striking at you from every angle. You met his attack with equal ferocity, your movements a seamless blend of offense and defense. Each time his spear came close, you deflected it with a precise strike of your hand or foot, using his own momentum against him. It was a dance of death, and you were both equally matched.

But as the battle raged on, you began to notice something. Morax's attacks were becoming more relentless, more aggressive. His calm, calculated demeanor was slipping, replaced by something darker — something more desperate. It was as if he knew that despite his immense power, he could not afford to let this fight drag on.

And then, with a roar that shook the very air, Morax slammed his spear into the ground. The earth beneath your feet shattered, and a massive chasm opened up, threatening to swallow you whole. But you didn't falter. Instead, you leaped into the air, using the force of the explosion to propel yourself higher, out of the reach of the gaping abyss below.

As you soared above the battlefield, you could see Morax below, his amber eyes glowing with a fierce light as he prepared for his next move. But you could also see something else — something he had failed to notice. The cracks on your right hand were spreading, the golden light growing brighter with each passing second. And with it, your control over your MANTIS-form was slipping.

But that was exactly what you needed.

As you descended back toward the ground, you let the power of Nihility surge through you, allowing it to flow into your limbs, strengthening your attacks. The moment your feet touched the ground, you shot toward Morax, your speed and strength amplified tenfold. He barely had time to react as you closed the distance between you, your fist slamming into his chest with enough force to send him flying backward.

Morax hit the ground hard, his body skidding across the dirt before slamming into a wall of stone. He grunted in pain, his hand clutching his chest where you had struck him. But you didn't give him time to recover. In the blink of an eye, you were upon him again, your attacks relentless and precise.

"Is this what you wanted, Morax?" you hissed, your voice dripping with venom as you struck him again and again. "To see the true extent of my power? To gaze into the abyss and hope to come out unscathed?"

With each word, your blows grew stronger, faster. Morax could barely keep up, his defenses crumbling under the sheer force of your assault. But even as you pushed him to his limits, you could feel the strain on your own body. The power of Nihility was a double-edged sword, and you were walking a fine line between control and chaos.

But then, as you prepared to deliver the final blow, Morax did something unexpected. With a surge of geo energy, he slammed his fist into the ground, creating a shockwave that knocked you off balance. Before you could recover, he was on you, his spear aimed directly at your heart.

Time seemed to slow as you watched the spear tip inch closer and closer to your chest. But even as it did, you felt a strange sense of calm wash over you. This was it. The moment of truth. Would you let him win, or would you unleash the full extent of your power and risk losing yourself in the process?

But then, just as the spear was about to pierce your skin, you moved. In one fluid motion, you caught the spear with your right hand, the golden cracks flaring with a blinding light. For a moment, Morax looked stunned, his eyes widening in shock as he realized what was happening. But it was too late.

With a final, desperate burst of energy, you wrenched the spear from his grasp and snapped it in two. The force of the action sent a shockwave through the ground, and Morax staggered back, his eyes wide with disbelief. But you didn't stop there. With a swift, almost casual motion, you slammed your fist into his chest, sending him crashing to the ground once more.

As he lay there, gasping for breath, you stood over him. The golden cracks on your hand were slowly fading, but the power of Nihility still hummed beneath your skin, ready to be unleashed at a moment's notice.

"You should have known better, Morax," you said, your voice low and dangerous. "You cannot control what you do not understand. And you will never control me."

Your fury was palpable, a dark and terrifying force that seemed to pulse through the very air around you. Every step you took toward Zhongli was deliberate, each heel strike against the ground echoing with the promise of retribution. 

When you reached him, you didn't hesitate — you stomped harshly onto his crotch, your heel digging into his flesh with merciless precision. A pained groan escaped his lips, but you weren't here for mercy.

"Firstly," you began, your voice cold, yet tinged with an icy aloofness that sent shivers down his spine, "where are my finger guards?"

His breath hitched as he struggled to speak, the pain nearly overwhelming. "Ah—... they are stored in the sealed store-room," he stammered.

Your gaze didn't waver. "Secondly, where are my necklace and earrings?"

"They're... also stored in the same room," he answered, his voice strained, the agony of your assault evident in his every word.

"Lastly..." Your voice dropped to a dangerously low tone as you looked down at him, your eyes narrowing with a lethal focus. "Where is Osial?"

Zhongli's silence was a mistake — a grave one. You murmured a cold, "Huh...," before pressing your weight harder onto his crotch. He yelped in pain, a sound that was music to your ears. His dragon eyes glowed, but even his inherent power couldn't shield him from the sheer force of your anger.

As he remained silent, you kneaded his crotch harder, twisting your heel as if you were grinding out a cigarette. "You will guide me to Osial," you demanded, your tone leaving no room for argument. It wasn't a request; it was an order, an ultimatum.

Finally, he nodded, the submission in his gesture feeding the dark satisfaction that churned within you. But that wasn't enough. You leaned in, your voice dripping with cold, cruel sarcasm. "Ha? I didn't hear it. What did you say?"

"Yes..." Zhongli finally gasped, the pain twisting his words. "I will guide you to Osial."

You weren't finished. Not by a long shot. 

"But—"

"There are no buts." Your tone sliced through his words like a blade, sharp and unyielding. 

"You've had enough of me. Enough of my body." 

Your fingers trailed up to the large, dragon-shaped mark he had left on your throat, a symbol of his twisted possession.

Without hesitation, your sharp nails dug deep into your flesh. The sound of your skin tearing was a grotesque symphony that echoed through the air as you tore the mark from your body, ripping away the symbol of his dominance. Golden blood — sparkling and radiant — poured from the wound, a stark contrast to the violence of your actions. You pressed your fingers against the bleeding flesh, showing no reaction to the pain.

Zhongli's eyes widened in shock, the sight of your golden blood confirming his deepest suspicions. You were no ordinary being — his worst fears were realized.

"I remember what really happened here in Liyue millennia ago," you continued, your voice a chilling whisper. "And your little fabricated story... ha... what an utter lie."

You leaned closer, your lips curling into a cold, emotionless smile as you delivered your final, terrifying words. "But let me tell you something... The past is meaningless. All that is past... has returned to Nihility."

A single golden tear slipped from the corner of your eye, falling onto Zhongli's face. "Just like tears... eventually disappear in the rain."

Your words hung in the air, heavy with the promise of vengeance. Zhongli could do nothing but stare up at you, the true weight of his actions crashing down on him. You were no longer the person he had tried to control, to possess. You were a force of nature, a being of terrifying power and unrelenting fury, and you would not rest until he paid for every sin he had committed against you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Everyone has a past. But for some, that past is a silent abyss, an endless void where the echoes of those who drowned in it are forever lost.

It is a dark chasm, filled with the memories of shattered lives and broken souls, leaving behind a trail of blood and corpses, forgotten by all but the one who created them.

[starcurtain]

Hey there, your Aventurine & Sunday analysis of their parallels months ago has been an absolute enjoyable read to me, and I was wondering if you’d add any more parallels or find any more similarities between them after update 2.7

Yes, actually!

For anyone who missed it, here was the original post, where I talked about how Aventurine and Sunday are basically the exact same character, lol.

I think 2.7 only deepened the parallel even further, as we literally saw Sunday repeat the exact same journey Aventurine went through in 2.1.

First, even before 2.7--we see that Sunday finds himself in chains and at the mercy of Jade, just as Aventurine once did.

However, Sunday isn't strong enough on his own to make a deal with Jade, the way Aventurine did--rather, Robin is the one who makes the deal for him, securing his freedom by paying the mysterious price on his behalf. We can, to a certain extent, see this as analogous to Aventurine's sister making the ultimate sacrifice to ensuring Aventurine could survive the Katican attack in the desert.

Then, on to 2.7: Sunday's portion of 2.7 begins with him wandering Penacony with an accompanying partner who seems to have nothing but contempt for him. This, of course, parallels Aventurine's exact wandering through Penacony in 2.1, pursued by his "future."

In both cases, these accompanying spirits represent the rejected portions of the character's psyche, the portions they dislike and try to repress. (In Sunday's case, we can even say that Wonweek taking on the form of a Pepeshi mimics Aventurine running into not only his future but also his past, with little Kakavasha.)

While wandering, Sunday discusses and relives moments of his past, describing "failures" he encountered in his childhood. Meanwhile, Aventurine also obviously relives his past childhood failures while on his journey through Penacony.

At this point, I think the comparison is especially apt because it shows us the enormous gulf in experience between Aventurine and Sunday. The kind of "failures" Sunday recounts are childish, innocent, and--theoretically--easy to get over. He fell while trying to fly as a child. He was given temporary command of an area of Penacony and made silly mistakes. Aventurine lost his home and everyone he ever loved.

But because Sunday was kept so sheltered, deliberately held back from experiencing the real world, he has nothing else as his frame of reference. These childish "failures" seem serious to him because he hasn't ever had the chance to experience anything else, to even live a real life outside of Penacony's sweet dream. The parallel between Aventurine's journey through Penacony and Sunday's is meant to especially highlight Sunday's naivete and his need to step out of the dream to finally experience reality.

Like Aventurine, Sunday's journey ends when the curtain parts, when he arrives at the stage to take up his role in the drama.

He experiences a touching moment where he faces the parts of himself that he doesn't want to accept, and then charges into battle. Thought Aventurine's battle was with Acheron instead of himself, as Sunday's is, both battles represent "taking the final step," ending a major portion of their lives to go somewhere "beyond" they're ever been before.

We also see Sunday's arc in Penacony end with a "farewell," just as Aventurine's does.

Instead of meeting the metaphorical sister figure like Aventurine, Sunday meets his actual sister, but both Aventurine and Sunday's journeys in Penacony end with receiving vital life advice from women. Acheron and Robin both point toward the future, reminding their respective brother/brother figures that the journey isn't over, and they need to step forward and truly start living.

At last, both Sunday and Aventurine settle with their respective "families"--Aventurine returns to Jade's side, and Sunday is taken in by the Astral Express, yet both of them are now on completely opposite trajectories from where they began. Aventurine has embraced life, determined to live to make his family proud, while Sunday has renounced his prior plans to forcibly bring Order to the world; instead, he has embraced the "disorderly noise" that will be life on the Astral Express.

Like in their pasts, Sunday's experience in 2.7 is still virtually 1:1 with Aventurine--they really are just the same character in two different fonts. 😂

[ardensregias]

arguing with aventurine n then you pull on his choker/collar chains, so he uses the chance to dramatically fell on you and pins you down. then he smirks and asks you, "did you purposely do that so we can be in this position?"

we could've had this during that one cutscene if acheron didn't came into the room 💔

[tylermileslockett]

The Greek underworld, or House of Hades, is generally described in Homer’s Iliad as a gloomy place of “the mists and the darkness” (Lattimore) where the spirits heroes and villains alike come to rest. Hermes as Psychopomp (Spirit guide), would lead the new spirits down into the land of the dead.  Souls would first drink at the River Acheron (river of sorrow) or sometimes mentioned as the River Styx (to specifically forget their past pains), then they would be ferried across by the boatman Charon for a coin placed within their mouths or upon their eyes. Souls would drink from the River Lethe (river of forgetfulness) to forget all memories of their previous lives, then pass through the gates guarded by Cerberus, the hound of Hades before being presented before Hades, and his wife Persephone. The other two  rivers of the underworld are the River Phlegethon (river of fire) and the River Cocytus (river of wailing) both associated with punishment.

         The Souls would then be judged by three demi gods: Minos (son of Zeus and Europa), Rhadamanthus, (son of Zeus and Europa), and Aeacus, (son of Zeus and Aegina.) and would choose a final place for each soul amongst the following locations:

the Asphodal meadows, (asphodal is a white lily associated with death), is where ordinary souls were forgotten, wandering in monotony amongst misty darkness. The Elysian fields, also known as Elysium, is described as a paradise where the honored heroes go to live in white houses amongst fields of gold, ripe fruit, and temperate weather. Tartarus is a realm residing a vast distance below Hades, and is a place of cruel, eternal punishment that, according to Hesiod, even Zeus feared. Here the defeated Titans were held, imprisoned in chains, as well as mortals who committed crimes against the gods, like Sisyphus, Tantalus, and Ixion. In addition, the Erinyes, (or Furies), the three goddess of blood retribution and punishers of criminals were said to inhabit this dreaded realm.  

If you share this image I'll pass you a golden ticket to the Elysian fields! Xoxo

Support my book kickstarter "Lockett Illustrated: Greek Gods and Heroes" coming in early 2024.

[onceuponalegendbg]

“I’m sorry. The dance partner of my choice… I’ve already chosen.”

HELL YEAH YOU HAVE!!!

[time-is-restored]

do you guys every think abt death vs immortality as a thoroughline in like. literally all of the mechs albums.

old king cole is explicitly warped by immortality (never to forgive he would eternal live, his hands dyed red by gore - can be read a few ways depending on where u place the emphasis, but at the very least communicates that his wrath is facilitated By his immortality), and the olympians commit attrocities in order to hold onto their wealth and the immortality that it grants them (murdering arachne, yanking heracles' chain the second he tries to go freelance, having a monopoly on the acheron etc). the value they put on immortality and living forever, and the fear they have of ever possibly losing it, has completely warped their morals and priorities.

and while it comes up less in tbi, there's still significant emphasis placed on how odin has been in power for a century (both thor + the narrator bring it up, and there's also an emphasis on how long ago the bifrost project was started, and how 'no one left living' can explain its science). her villain monologue in rangarok iv places the extinction of asgard as an honour - a ruin that no one can possibly rebuild from is called 'apotheosis'. and as she says at the end, the idea that no one can possibly outlive her is a key draw for odin. asgard dies with her.

in hnoc, the only really immortal character is brian (and we only really know that bc of knowledge we get from outside the album), but the axis of life and death as a privilege vs a curse is still very present. 'mordred's gift to Arthur could be love in his own eyes / fating him alone to keep the life to which he clings', not only posits that the gift of survival isn't inherently good + kind (which the audience would immediately recognise as love, not possibly love), but places emphasis on the fact that arthur is now utterly alone. the station's death at the hands of mordred is hardly a happy one ('Its people damned, doomed by a man who's lost all his regrets'), but arthur's fate is arguably worse. severed from the finality and closure of death, what does he become? [insert that one cool theory abt hnoc arthur becoming old king cole here]

it's like. on a meta level, the reason we as fans don't put much emphasis on the depravity + cruelty of the mechs is bc the people portraying the mechs are all charismatic + skilled performers. in live gigs they're all portraying the fun side of their characters - roasting each other, bantering with the audience, making fun of the characters they're singing about, referencing off-screen violence - bc if they portrayed their lore too literally they'd be comitting felonies LMAOOO

but narratively, its like. literally every album is a meditation on the ways that the glorification of immortality can ruin civilisations - can ruin galaxies. whether its rooted in the fear of you specifically dying, or of being outlived, or overpowered or forgotten, or if its done for the sake of someone else's survival... it's all corrosive. if u refuse to accept the indisputable impermanence of life, you lose the ability to value it, and u numb urself to the reality of just how fucked up it is to cut another person's life short for any reason.

like. i do think some of the mechs started as good people, and some of them even might still have ethical standards, but i REALLY cannot stop thinking about how fucking. fascinating it is that this group of immortals who are KNOWN for basically considering nothing but how fun and/or violent any given activity will be, have basically filled their entire discography with songs about how their continued existence is corrosive and brings tragedy + ruin wherever they go.

so how self-aware are they? do you think those old morals + ethics still linger in their mind, when they're writing down these tragedies? they willingly self identify as liars + thieves + bastards, etc etc, and they seem to have no trouble identifying the 'bad guys' in the various albums (ie: humanising snow + cinders + rose, but not king cole), but do those concepts actually mean anything emotionally, or even theoretically, for them all beyond their dramatic potential? do they remember their lives before they were mechanised as it actually happened, or do they remember it as lyrics to a song? is it possible to be entirely self aware abt ur own capacity for violence (as jonny in paticular claims to be), if you no longer relate to violence as anything other than a narrative device - a means to an end, whether comedic or dramatic?

[golden-racoon]

How to do character parallels (Acheron & Aventurine) Spoilers for 2.1

It's pretty evident that the writing team for Penacony has knocked it out of the park and they've been getting better by patch. The best part of this patch has probably been the use of the switch POV to show between the two protagonists of this quest.

I mean it's pretty obvious that they're parallels. They're the last survivors of their people, destroyed by an invading force (the Avgin by the Katica and Izumo by Takamagahara). Both survived through their own skill and support from other people and then suffered horribly through the aftermath of survival.

Acheron becomes a Self-Anihilator and loses parts of herself, like her memory (and sense of taste). She has to use emotion to navigate the world because she can't keep a hold of her memory. In The Pioneer Diver of Dead Waters set it's implied that she was Freebas' friend, and if you read the description of the set it's pretty evident that Freebas died journeying into the black hole that is the Nihility.

Aventurine loses all of his people in a single day (his birthday!!!) and then becomes a branded slave forced to participate in a Hunger Games-style tournament for his survival. It's implied that his only weapon for this entire twisted game would have been his chains, which would have been horribly traumatizing for him since every death he committed would be up close and personal.

Throughout this quest we follow each of them as they carry out their own personal agendas and how each of them come to the same conclusions. They even have a single companion for their quests who helps them carry out bothering Sunday (which is pretty funny in retrospect, since five different people broke into Suday's house in the same 24 hours).

And then Aventurine pulls his closing gambit and Acheron is the only one who understands why he's doing this. Because both of them have loathed themselves and wanted to die, and found something they so dearly want above all of this.

Aventurine needs the power of an Emanator to break down the walls of Penacony and he knows the only person in Penacony who can carry out his ends is Acheron.

And then this happens.

Aventurine understands Acheron's version of Nihility more than anyone. He understands what it means to keep holding on, even when you should be rightfully dead. Acheron understands all too well what it means to lose so much of yourself just to survive, and their conversation about Aventurine's scheme is full of nuance and many, many layers.

My favourite recurring motif for these two is Rain. Aceron says that she weeps "like rain" when she activates her Emanator powers. When she "slashes" Aventurine, she creates rain, something that should be impossible in the Family's dreamscape. Aventurine is associated with rain constantly from birth, something his people consider a blessing. However, now he can't even bear getting his outfit wet in the rain, something that may be a rejection of his past. But when Acheron fulfils his wishes and he finally accepts his past, the rain pours.

In conclusion, I'm losing my mind, and Shaoji is responsible. Probably.

[saunne]

HSR THEORY - COULD NIHILITY, VORACITY AND DEVICE IX BE LINKED ?

All my thanks to Bunni on the old friends Discord Server. I wouldn't have had this fucked up theory without her. Also, this is messy and probably nonsensical but I had to purge it.

The question asked was about "how close Voracity and Destruction are in terms of beliefs". A valid question, as something like Voracity and "devourer of worlds" imply mindless destruction.

HOWEVER.

Nanook's Emanator destroys with purpose, where Ouroboros seems to act more on instinct than anything, an animal feeding itself rather than a sentient being with an agenda.

Looking at Ourobos description in the databank, something struck me :

The drinker of worlds, the unsatisfied devourer, the black hole with thought. THEY are an Aeon and a Leviathan at the same time.

"The blackhole with thought".

Something one would expect to read about IX, a literal blackhole, rather than Oroboros. And yet, it's Oroboros description. The second part of the description only birthed more thoughts :

In the eyes of Oroboros, life is a flickering fragment floating in the sea of void, destined to return to the darkness along with the stars which birthed THEM — This darkness is within the depths of THEIR mouths.

Sea of void, return to the darkness... Sounds an awful lot like Nihility, doesn't it ? When you meet Oroboros in the Simulated Universe, the Log Entry states the following :

…Oroboros the Voracity! THEY are reserved and uncommunicative, occasionally resulting in unintended consequences when attempting to speak — such as inadvertently consuming THEIR interlocutors.

IX is also reserved and uncommunicative. Remember the first time we met them in the Simulated Universe ? Herta had to cheer us up with falsities because we were swallowed by IX.

IX: You feel yourself being swallowed by some black liquid — a sea of darkness. Your hearing and smell are cut off, and everything becomes far away from you.

Looking at it this way, it seems there's a possible link between Nihility and Voracity. But it doesn't quite stop there, not really.

To understand, we need to backpedal for a bit.

In the chapter Stranger in a Stranger Land of the Penacony Quest, we had the option to bid our farewells to Acheron. During this exchange, we learned of her true goal :

Acheron: In order to fight against the cruel end of self-destruction, I went on a journey, in search of a way to sever the chains of the Nihility. After a long and grueling search, I am convinced that my destination lies within the depths of the Dark Web, where reality and the Nihility are separate. Acheron: In there lurks a secret called "Device IX"... One day, I'll reach it.

This is a reference to a term known as Horizon of Existence in the Data Bank, the boundary between existence and Nihility marking the "end of reality".

Legend has it that a mysterious faction known as Device IX lurks in the empty reflections of void, difficult to be perceived by the material world. Those who gaze into the void for a long time will gradually be drawn to the dark energy overflowing in the abyss, eventually passing through the Dark Web that separates reality from nothingness — This legend has yet to be proven, though.

So, Device IX is most likely roaming free on the other side of said Horizon of Existence. Saif Horizon of Existence being this :

An eclipse, a darkened sun, a black sun setting.... A star drowning into a sea of darkness.

Do you know what Leviathan feed on ?

Stars.

Shattered Star Bait : Before the Dusk Wars, the exploded fragments born out of the expansion of disordered nebulas could be used as lures, and their unique aroma of cosmic dust could attract Leviathans to feed on them.

So : Oroboros is nicknamed "the black hole with thought", inadvertently consume THEIR interlocutors, believes that life is a flickering fragment floating in the sea of void and destined to return to the darkness...

And where exactly is this darkness ?

This darkness is within the depths of THEIR mouths.

Forget taking a dive inside IX, there's a real chance to be more successful in reaching the Border of Nihility by plunging directly in Oroboros' goddamn stomach. In any way, both solutions look like a one way road towards the End.

But also, not really. Because the Aeon of the Voracity is named Oroboros. Which is originally a symbol of a snake bitting its own tail, thus representing Eternity.

The oroboros is believed to be a symbol of cyclicality, a cycle of life, death and rebirth. Something I think to be intesting is the existence of this symbol in Ancient Egypt, most particularly in the tomb of Tutankhamun.

The ouroboros is depicted twice on the figure: holding their tails in their mouths, one encircling the head and upper chest, the other surrounding the feet of a large figure, which may represent the unified Ra-Osiris (Osiris born again as Ra). Both serpents are manifestations of the deity Mehen, who in other funerary texts protects Ra in his underworld journey. The whole divine figure represents the beginning and the end of time. [Wikipedia]

(However, besides Mehen, there's another well known snake deity associated to Ra : Apophis or Apep.... continuously trying to devour the sun.)

Looking at Hoyoverse and their love of Samsara and the less than subtle hints we've got about Fuli making a repository of the memory of the universe to prepare the impending doom or Qlipoth (Preservation) creating a wall to keep the Leviathans OUT...

I'm starting to wonder if what's inside the Leviathan's mouth, rather than being the separation between existence and Nihility, it wouldn't be between one universe's existence and the yet-to-happen or already happened birth of another universe.

Addendum : Everything is slowly coming together RIGHT UNDER OUR NOSES.

"Device IX is real. Go find it ! There lies all of Dr. Primitive's secrets !" — Some Drunken Galaxy Ranger

Who's the new 2.6 quest all about ? Dr. Primitive.

Where does the 2.6 quest happens ? In Penacony, where we were previously fully introduced to the concept of Nihility thanks to Acheron, a Self-Annihilator and where we also first met the elusive Galaxy Rangers, first Boothill and then Rappa.

Funnily enough, we do have this quote in Izumo's Planar Set :

Was it yet another appalling experiment by Dr. Primitive, or was it a sign of the Voracity returning from the end of the Cosmos ?

Also, for reminder :

Dr. Primitive is the member #64 of the Genius Society, an Emanator of Erudition, and a notorious criminal who was known for his mastery of gravity-capture technology.

Do you remember that some members of our crew were just on an errand for another member of the Genius Society ? #81 Ruan Mei ?

And what was that quest about ?

DELIVER LEVIATHAN FOSSILS TO RUAN MEI.

[the-mortuary-witch]

CERBERUS

WHO IS HE?

Cerberus, often referred to as the hound of Hades, is a mythical three-headed dog. In Greek mythology, Hades was the God of the underworld and the dead, and Cerberus was his faithful servant who guarded the entry to the underworld to prevent the living from entering and the dead from escaping. Cerberus was a powerful guardian and was feared for his ferocity and strength. In Satanism, Cerberus is sometimes seen as a symbol of protection, commitment, and devotion to the deity Hades. Sometimes Cerberus can also represent the underworld itself or the connection between life and death.

BASIC INFO:

Appearance: In Greek mythology, Cerberus is typically described as a three-headed dog-like creature with a serpent-like tail. He is often depicted with a black or dark-coloured body, and he typically has sharp fangs and eyes. Cerberus is often described as being extremely aggressive and fierce.

Personality: Cerberus is often described as being fierce, aggressive, and extremely protective of the gates of Hades. In mythology and folklore, he is often depicted as being loyal and faithful to Hades, but also as being quick to anger. He is said to always be alert and on guard, with a strong sense of duty and protection. He is also said to be a wise and powerful being, with immense strength and ferocity.

Symbols: three-headed dog, Bident of Hades, keys, cauldrons, chains and binding, Gates of Hades, fire, and torches

Guardian of: the Gates of Hades

Culture: Greek

Plants: wolfs-bane, yarrow, mint, cyclamen, nightshade, lilies, mullein flowers, black oak tree, mistletoe, and cedar trees

Crystals: black obsidian, black tourmaline, black onyx, black rose quartz, black labradorite, black kyanite, and black stone

Animals: dogs, wolves, black snakes, and goats

Incense: dragon’s blood, frankincense, black musk, patchouli, myrrh, sandalwood, and vetiver

Practices: protection, setting boundaries, animal magick, shadow work, healing, and transformation

Colours: black, white, red, green, and purple

Numbers: 3 and 7

Zodiacs: Scorpio, Sagittarius, and Pisces (not official)

Tarot: Death

Planets: Mars, Saturn, and Pluto

Days: Tuesday, Saturday, Monday, Cerberalia, Hades Festival, Halloween, and New Year

Parents: Echidna and Typhon

Siblings: Orthos, Lernaean Hydra, and Chimera

Partner: N/A

Companions: Hades and Zagreus

Children: N/A

MISC:

• Triple head: Cerberus' most prominent symbol is his three heads, which symbolizes his triad of ferocity, devotion, and intellect. The three heads also represent Cerberus' connection to the trinity and the cycle of life and death.

• Chains: Cerberus is often depicted as being bound by a chain, which represents his role as a guardian and a protecter to the underworld. The chain can also represent his connection to the underworld and darkness.

• Dogs: Cerberus is described as a dog-like creature, representing his loyalty and loyalty.

• Snake: Cerberus is often depicted as having a snake-like form, with three heads and a snake body.

• Fire: Cerberus is often associated with fire and intense, fiery energy, due to his role as a guardian of the underworld.

• Keys: Cerberus is often depicted with a key or a pair of keys, which represents his role as a guardian of the underworld and its gate.

FACTS ABOUT CERBERUS:

• Cerberus is named after the Greek word creoboros meaning "flesh-devouring". Another suggested etymology derives Cerberus from "Ker berethrou", meaning "evil of the pit".

• It is said that Cerberus guards the Underworld gates, waiting at the river of Acheron to stop all who try to enter the Underworld.

• He has been a part of Greek mythology since the earliest times, and has been seen as a symbol of protection, rebirth, and the protection of the soul.

• In some stories, Cerberus' three heads are said to represent past, present, and future, and his flaming breath represents the cycle of life and death.

• Cerberus is believed to be the offspring of Typhon and Echidna, but is also said to be the child of Hades and Persephone.

• He is said to have the ability to breathe flames, chew through metal, and see in the dark.

HOW TO INVOKE CERBERUS:

Start by addressing Cerberus with a respectful greeting, such as 

"Great Cerberus, guardian of the Underworld, I am here to worship and honour you." Make an offering to Cerberus. There are many different types of offerings you can make, such as food, drinks, herbs, crystals, flowers, incense, or other small treasures. Sit quietly and meditate on your connection with Cerberus. This could include imagining an image of Cerberus, visualizing yourself in his presence, or engaging in prayer or conversation with him. 

Show your devotion and respect to Cerberus by performing an act of service or helping others in some way in his honour.

End the worship session by giving a final offering and farewell and expressing gratitude for the experience and any blessings that were received during the session.

PRAYER FOR CERBERUS:

Great Cerberus, three-headed guardian of the underworld, I call upon you now to aid me in this time of need. I seek your protection and guidance as I traverse this treacherous journey. Please grant me your strength and wisdom and aid Me in navigating the twists and turns of the dark path I walk. I offer you this prayer as a sign of my devotion and respect. Hear my plea and lend me your power now.

Great Cerberus, I give thanks to you, who has granted me your protection and guidance. I am grateful for your strength and wisdom and the guidance you have offered me. I bid you Farewell for now, and look forward to meeting you again, Hail Cerberus!

SIGNS THAT CERBERUS IS CALLING YOU:

• Sudden and intense connection or fascination with him or his symbol.

• A strong feeling of warmth or comfort when you think about him.

• You have recurring dreams about him or his symbol.

• Noticing that you are drawn to research, study, or contemplate his domain.

• You start to see his symbol everywhere you go or in places where you don't normally expect it.

• Vivid or lucid dreams about Cerberus.

• Recurring thoughts and images of Cerberus during your waking hours.

• You feel a deep sense of connection and affinity with Cerberus, even without having had prior contact with him.

• You find yourself drawn to learning more about Cerberus's symbolism and mythology.

• You experience unusual coincidences or synchronicities involving Cerberus.

OFFERINGS:

• Herbs and plants.

• Meat.

• Water.

• Flowers and incense.

• Bones and other relics associated with the Underworld and death.

• Homemade goods.

• Things that are precious to you, such as jewelry, clothing, or other special items.

• Money.

• Gold or silver.

• Chocolate or other desserts.

• Honey or nectars.

• Beer and other alcoholic beverages.

• Depictions of dogs, three-headed dogs, and wolves.

• Dog toys, food/treats, collars, and/or leashes.

DEVOTIONAL ACTS:

• Caring for animals: as the guardian of the underworld, Cerberus is associated with animal life and protecting innocent creatures from harm. By providing protection and compassion for animals, you are mirroring the energy of Cerberus and honoring his role as a guardian.

• Protecting nature: Cerberus is a guardian of nature and the underworld, so doing acts to protect and preserve natural environments aligns with his divine energy. This could include planting trees, picking up litter, caring for gardens or parks, and exploring ways to reduce pollution and environmental damage.

• Meditation and prayer: taking the time to meditate and pray to Cerberus is always a great way to express devotion and connection. Sit quietly and focus your attention on him, imagine his presence and image, or engage in conversation with him.

• Rituals and ceremonies: creating your own rituals and ceremonies to honor Cerberus and his power is another meaningful way to show devotion and respect. Consider creating an altar to him or performing a spell to petition him for guidance or assistance in your life.

• Learning about dogs that are household protectors.

• Learning about wolves

• Playing with dogs.

• Making dog treats.

• Training/learning how to train dogs.

• Taking your dogs to the vet.

[hungnitan]

Penacony TB 2.1 Impression

Contains heavy spoiler and mostly a rant so don't read it if you still not finish the story (lol)

Before unto the stories, I must say I kinda get the reasons why hoyo put Acheron in first banner and Aventurine in second half after read TB 2.1. For Acheron, I think her identity as emenator nihility is the key lore to expose before 2.1 began so there's need to expose it at trailer (despite her reasoning coming to Penacony still unknown somehow lol). While for Aventurine, this is kinda delulu on my side but there's possibility we might know the things happened to him after 2.1 from his daily message.

Onto stories, I only say one line... IT'S VERY HONKAI VIBE ! Telling one person stories from they born into the one we know now with angsty vibe of course lol. You know, the things I scare when hoyo release Acheron trailer and myriad celestial is how Aventurine past can beat that honkai queen and (un)fortunately I was wrong (lol)

IT'S FULL BLOW OF AVENTURINE DARK PAST and yeah hoyo score a full mark with it !

For composition I think it's 80% Aventurine PoV and 20% others which is unsuprisingly since I'm pretty sure he will not appear again for future Penacony chapter but what I'm suprise is so far Astral Express basically can't do anything much in Penacony so yeah Xianzhou Luofu TB back again.

Despite that, I'm very happy with TB 2.1 like this is what Honkai story should do ! Up until now, I always thought HSR still not show their full equipment and pretty weak with their story, Tingyun only snapping some head isn't near those previous Honkai heels you know (lol).

I'm going to talk a long rant on 80% since hoyo decided to love him with his so well written stories and I love him too (XD)

The things with Aventurine and Ratio, I guess this what we would called "same mind don't need talk much". They're bickering so well, even acted betray each others without any communication and smooth enough to fool Sunday

But sorry I'm not getting fool (I know they're soulmate lol), the reason is I found one hole in Sunday Ratio convo here

Ratio saying about cornerstone is so precious to ten stonehearts but the box contain can be opened by other than them ? If that's true, I can't believe someone like Aventurine would risk someone like that participate in his grand scheme without reasons... plus Ratio doesn't strike me as someone who sells his teammate or what he called him lol no matter how iritatting he is especially only for pursuing knowledge, since it sounds so idiocy.

Suprising fact, he even try kill himself few times at dreamscape ! Like is that something you can try out of fun even If knowing you can't die ? Well yeah, in first place he doesn't mind to die anytime but doing it yourself and passive talk are two different things you know...

two question I thought Aventurine never answer directly which is pretty related. First of all, different than Sunday which I think he's type of "I will kill everyone and then myself if they hurt my sister" but he's already at own limit to think for his own survival + he doesn't have anyone to get revenge for. Elation still have some excitement when saw someone in despair but I don't think Aventurine (at that time) could feels same, well we don't know things after 2.1 since his past chains severed by Acheron, maybe he will open a new leaf (I hope so, let him live happily ever after with Ratio or Elation or even Trailblazing with us sounds good too lol)

It stabilize the fact that Aventurine and Ratio are good friends despite their talk, voiceline, and teammate voiceline at least from Ratio side which is the vital point Aventurine still alive as now. I really skeptic on his dead or alive status at 2.1 livestream, well mostly I can't believe any Shaoji said that time (plus the fact Gallagher is just a normal bartender lol)

TB 2.1 conclude with opening a new terrain with dreamscape's secrets, the Family and Watchmaker aren't same side, IPC will added another ten stonehearts member to game, a mysterious voice will join the fray. Penacony story so far so good, even their newest branch stories execute nicely but I don't have any excitement anymore now knowing Aventurine not gonna show up anymore (XD).

Now with Aventurine closed his screentime, I think Acheron (her past and purpose coming to Penacony still not reveal much), Firefly Sam (SH motive and she need to pursuading TB), Jade and/or Topaz (replacing Aventurine role) will play a bigger parts for future version

Put aside that, my 220 pull still on waiting for Aven banner ! I kinda had bad feelings about his banner pull, even my relics planar farming still not done even after I started doing it from BlackSwan banner...