Hi Mooty This Might Be My First Time Messaging You Thru The Inbox, But I Wanted To Drop By And Say That
Hi mooty ♡ this might be my first time messaging you thru the inbox, but i wanted to drop by and say that your ratio theme is making me grovel to my knees (I literally just opened the app) I can tell you took your time making it, you did such a fantastic job, and i hope your day is well !! 🌻
HELLO OMG IVE BEEN SUCH A FAN OF YOUR WORKS!!!! im glad you like it hehe (it took me three attempts LMAOO)your isolde theme is sending me into an orbit please don't turn into a worm and disappear
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luvether liked this · 7 months ago
More Posts from Vxnuslogy
that summer event is just showing me more reasons why i kin hat guy
had to drop everything and go for a lap around the house when isolde showed up

– rainswept sins, you're forgiven.


pairing: sunday x gn!reader
premise: in the presence of the harsh downpour of rain, you and sunday let it was away your past sins and learn how to finally forgive.
– warnings: slight angst if you squint.
– author's note: me when i get motivated to write when tiktok shows me random poetry and they remind me of sunday <3. if any of the hunters sees this, yes the title is intentional LMAOO. art credits to @.helen_zzhao. | 2.4k words.

what a dull day today was your first thought. here you were, stranded on the planet of mendasia after a mission, clutching your bag filled with exotic flower. the downpour of the rain was unrelenting as you heaved out a sigh. you’ve already sent a message in your group chat for someone to come pick you up after not heeding kafka’s warnings. even under the rain, the wasteland that was once graced by idrila, looked beautiful. still carrying that paradise people sang about in ballads.
the sight reminded you of that fateful day of your aeon’s final departure.
you were taken back to the days where everything was simple. how you longed to watch the stars pass you by in a blur while adventuring. the golden ticket hidden in your breast pocket suddenly felt heavier than it should have. it was always like this; remembering was painful but you couldn’t bring yourself to forget.
“you’ll catch a cold, mx. [name].” the rain over your head ceased as the figure of a certain halovian came into view. he still had a soft smile on his face when the raindrops soaked his hair and wings. he looked more like a wet cat than an angel sent from above. speaking of wings, when you look up, a surge of pride washed over your heart when you saw his wings in their full glory.
“they’re beautiful…” you reply in a whisper. hand coming to smooth out the feathers and gliding over the golden exoskeleton you created after your last mission in the capital of passion. you don’t miss the slight shudder that went through him when your hand touched his feathers. “have they been serving you well?”
sunday stands beside you, shielding you away from the rain. his gloved hand tugging at your sleeve, pulling you closer to his side. “they have, thank you for creating them.”
you hum in response. pushing away your drenched hair, you soak in his new clothes. he still wore a black shirt with the same gold engravings of the order that’s layered with a white coat and a black corset hugging his abdomen with matching white pants and his usual shoes. when you peer over his shoulder you take notice of the small cape in dark blue. sunday cleared his throat after noticing your staring.
“miss kafka had them tailored for me,” he said, voice laced with shyness. “do they look strange?”
“you look beautiful in white.”
shocked and unprepared for your straightforwardness, sunday couldn’t help the flush that creeped up his cheeks and ears. wings flapping slightly in secret delight as he looked forward. a curled gloved hand hiding half of his face when he muttered a soft thank you.
maybe your nostalgia was fueling your bravery. you weren’t this blunt and forward with your compliments to sunday’s beauty, but today you let yourself heave out a sigh in contentment. sunday was always a sight to behold, premium eye candy if you will. you stopped eyeing the man when your conversation with elio replayed in your mind.
“you cannot favor him over the rest, [name].” destiny’s slave said as he sat down behind his desk.
“i’m not favoring him.” you weakly argued, taking the seat across from him. you had always teased his appearance for looking like a sickly victorian child in a pandemic, but you figured now was not a good time to joke.
the man sighed and leaned back on his chair. “what’s really bothering you, [name]?”
you pause for a moment before replying.
“maybe recruiting sunday was the wrong choice.” you don’t point out how his eyes widened. rarely do you question elio’s intentions of recruiting other hunters, he’s done you a big favor in the past and questioning him would be rather ungrateful. but still, you can’t help but let the monster in your heart claw at your ribs. “he doesn’t belong here.”
“and where do you suppose he will go? the express?”
you opened and closed your mouth, no reply leaving your lips as destiny’s slave sighed.
“you cannot project your wishes to be redeemed onto him.” he stands up with his arms crossed behind back. voice unwavering and so sure it left you looking down on your curled hands. feeling like a child being scolded for speaking out of turn. “you’ve made your choice. let him make his own.”
“mx. [name]?”
you snapped out of your flashback when sunday took hold of your shoulder. grip tight with concern and eyes furrowed with confusion. shaking your head you clutch your bag tighter and sigh for the nth time. “i’m sorry what were you saying?”
he pressed his lips to a thin line, letting his hand retreat to his side. “i said we should wait for the rain to stop before meeting with the others.”
oh, that’s right. sunday must have seen your message and came to pick you up. staring up at the sky, you try to predict how long you’ll be stranded under the rain with only his wing and being shielding you from the cold.
“is your wing tired yet?” you ask and look at him. “it might take a while before the rain stops.”
with a small smile he shook his head no. a chuckle leaving his lips when his hand came to fidget with his gold earring. a small habit you notice he’d do whenever he’s deep in thought. “don’t worry, this is a good form of exercise for me.”
you only hummed. eyes staring at your feet and the nearby puddles of water caused by the rain.
“this reminds me of the time when you first found me.” sunday spoke, his voice laced with tenderness.
you smile and chuckle. “i’m surprised you remember.”
he let out a snort and shrugged his shoulders. “well, it was quite memorable. i feel a couple hundred feet from the air and suddenly a black cat and its owner come to save me.”
“i take it this is your way of repaying the favor?” you jest.
“i suppose it is.”
as you both wait for the rain to stop, you take your time to reflect on how far you’ve gotten in your journey. you’ve changed, but you’re still the same person that boarded the train you didn’t even know existed. the same carelessness that landed you a quick scolding session from a higher being. the love for invention and taking pride when others use it. you still liked the conductor’s coffee over tea but drank it whenever kafka offered you a cup. you were still you after everything.
and sunday was the same. he was still a bit awkward with the others, but he didn’t completely avoid everyone anymore. he started joining everyone when eating and he still has that sacrificial mindset of his that lands him a chop to the head. and he still knew how to read everyone like a book.
“do you regret joining destiny’s slave?”
“there’s really no escaping you, is there?”
you reach out your hand to feel the rain under your skin. shoulders tensing when the cold drops felt more like bullets penetrating your skin. you ponder over the question in your head. you wonder what expression you were making for sunday to scoot just a tiny bit closer to you. a distance that far surpasses what he deems professional.
“just a bit.”
“pardon?”
“i regret it. but just a small smidget of it.” you take a deep breath and pull your hand back. taking out the golden ticket from your breast pocket, you stare at it with eyes filled with longing. “i miss akivili; more than i should.”
“akivili,” sunday mutters under his breath. “your aeon?”
you chuckle. “more than that. they were my family.”
turning the small ticket over, you see your name engraved in it with their handwriting. “they were my aeon. i never realized how much i devoted to them until i lost it all.”
this was why elio warned you to keep your head straight whenever it came to sunday. just like him, you were too devoted to a god that’s already long gone. the thought of akivili being dead often sent you spiraling into a hysterical fit of sadness. elio feared you would go out of your way to look into sunday’s methods on how to revive a fallen aeon.
“i never realized.” sunday murmurs, his molten gold eyes stared at the ticket with furrowed brows. “do the other hunters know?”
“just elio and kafka.” you flip the gold bar like a coin in your hands to distract yourself. “they were there when i went haywire and nearly got myself killed.”
you feel sunday’s gaze bore a hole into the side of your head. “why didn’t you go back?”
that’s a good question, why didn’t you go back? it was obvious from the conductor’s anonymously sent letters and not to mention the missing posters of you plastered on the planets you’ve traveled to. the poor thing wanted nothing more than for you to come back, but you chose to become a slave to destiny instead. all because of your guilt and shame.
“elio often told me, “you love akivili too much” and i suppose he’s right,” you chuckle as you tuck the ticket back in your breast pocket. “i love them to death. and they’d be the only one to bring me back to life. they were my everything. and i killed them.”
“what?”
you turn to sunday, a bitter smile on your lips. “are you surprised?”
“i–” sunday paused, trying to piece his words together. “i don’t believe it.”
you sigh. “well, to say that i killed them wouldn’t be accurate. but still, the fact that i got them killed still remains.”
“surely there must be more to that story.”
a chuckle left your lips. “i wish that were the case. but if i were to lay down the entire story, it all comes down to one thing.”
“and that is?”
“recklessness.”
you smile at sunday’s efforts at comforting you, but you didn’t like the frazzled look in his eyes. both pairs of his wings tense in an uncomfortable way it has you wincing. if you hadn't grazed your hand over his feathers he would’ve let them be tense the entire way back and you didn’t want that. you didn’t want to compromise his progress.
“do you think your a bad person, mx. [name]?” he asked. eyes trained on the tip of his shoes.
your hands pause their ministrations. caught off guard by his questions, your eyes widened as you looked at sunday. you notice the uncertainty in his eyes, the tension that started to build up on his shoulders, as if he’s bracing for a blow. the question isn’t unfamiliar, you often ask yourself after that particular mission and those conversations with elio.
before you can respond, sunday lifts his gaze and meets yours. the same pool of gentleness you saw on the roof on your last mission. “i don’t think you are. i’ve seen firsthand on how much you care –about me and the others–how hard you try to keep everyone safe and on the right track.”
“do i now?” you jest with a tilt of your head.
sunday continues, his voice steady and sure. “everyone has their moments of regret. actions they wish to undo. but,” he takes a closer step to you and takes hold of your hand. “those moments don’t define your entirety. you taught me that, didn’t you?”
you think back on when you first met sunday as he rubbed circles on your knuckles. how he didn’t even want to eat the food you offered him in a fit of paranoia. the way he’d pace around the base at night because his past haunted his dreams. and the time when you sat him down after a nasty fall when he tried to take flight, a conversation of vulnerability that had him grimacing and hissing like a stray cat.
“i did say that didn’t i.” you chuckle and close your eyes. the feeling of his spread wing encircled you in a slight hug, you didn’t even realize that the rain had died down to a soft drizzle.
“you told me that the mistakes i’ve made in the past shouldn’t chain me; that i’m free to move on from them. redemption isn’t a one-time thing; it’s a journey.”
you feel a lump in your throat form, voice cracking slightly. “and what if those moments have piled up to one giant mess that can be deemed unforgivable?”
“but i forgive you.”
his words hung in the air like a lifeline for you to grab. you look at sunday, truly look at him –not just a quick peek or glance. even when his bangs stuck to his forehead in the rain, you felt such a pull to his eyes that reminded you of the morning sun; the dawn you always looked forward to after a tough night. his eyes reflected the faith you’ve tried to show him when he first joined.
“sunday…” you start, but he only shakes his head.
“i forgive you, [name] –everyone has. i know you’re trying, and that means more than the mistakes you’ve made in the past.”
slight tears prick at the corner of your eyes as you lean your head on his chest. “and who gave you the right to forgive me huh? i know you haven’t forgiven yourself for what you’ve done back in penacony.”
“then i’ll repent,” his arm pulled you closer to his chest, his hand supporting the back of your head. “even the devil would kiss your eyes and beg for forgiveness if it meant you’ll be kinder to yourself.”
you feel the warmth of his embrace; the steady beating of his heart that sounded like peace and home. for a brief moment, you rejoice in his comfort. “sunday,” you whisper, voice still shaky. “it isn’t that easy.”
he gently lifts your chin to meet his gaze. “it never is, but it’s necessary, isn’t it? you can’t keep chaining yourself to the past forever.”
you close your eyes, feeling scared to meet his resolve. “i don’t think i can forgive myself for what happened.”
“but akivili would,” he says softly. “they were not my aeon, and i doubt they ever will, but i wholly believe they would forgive you. they would see the good in you, just as i do.”
“you’re one strange bird, sunday.” you playfully say. opening your eyes to peer at him with a smile. “the express would have loved you, just as much as i have.”
“akivili would have forgiven you, too.”

© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.
NAHH WHY IS THIS THE FIRST PIC THAT SHOWS UP WHEN YOU LOOK UP ITOSHI RIN


WHOEVER DID THIS NEEDS TO CHILL TF OUT
You can pry the other Stellaron Hunters going out of their way to be kind to Blade out of my cold dead hands. Every time they mention Blade it's always in a kind way, he's a person to them no matter how much he isn't one to himself. Kafka calls him a cute nickname, Silver Wolf tries to get him to game with her, and Firefly brings him oak rolls because she knows he'll appreciate it. When we make a little cat cake that looks like him, Silver Wolf knows he likes it. They steal his phone all the time and he lets them. Yingxing is dead but he is still so loved even if by different people.
You up-keep a blade because you care about it