#Astral Lounge

[fangbangerghoul]

its SUNDAY! SUNDAY! SUUUNDAAY!!!!!

As usual we got your snippets here come and get them! (insert some newsies reference or something)

Tagging: @staticpallour, @bearlytolerant, @silurisanguine, @atonalginger, @eridanidreams, @lisa-and-shadow, @aislingdmdt, @a-cosmic-elf, @toxiclizardwrites, @aro-pancake, @spookyspecterino, @thatsgoodsquishy0, @booburry, @5oh5, @therealgchu, @order-of-the-eye

(if i missed you feel free to yell at me maybe I'll enjoy it) (also tag me so I can see your work and share it)

As usual it's under the cut! This will be a snippet from the future chapter in Ghoul Files! (cause I am dragging my feet on writing chapter 10 lately even though I have all the parts of my Frankenstein waiting to be sewn together and edited with lightning)

(ok maybe not I have been swamped with work, but I like to be hard on myself, okay?)

The Astral Lounge was dimly lit aside from the center of the dance floor that held a level specifically for their hired dancers of the night. Ghoul was already three drinks in and two vials of aurora as she melded herself in with the crowd of bodies to continue dancing throughout the night. Her outfit of choice left very little to the imagination as the deep red dress hugged her body and the mesh that was fused with the straps that laced across her hips and her chest teased the audience around her. Her vibrant green hair was down allowing her curls to bounce as she moved with the base and drums that echoed throughout the molecules of her physical form.

Her golden eyes were dilated and the whites of her eyes faintly red from the level of intoxication she was at within this point of time. Ghoul’s thoughts barely formed coherent sentences but her body was able to maintain clear communication with the others that danced vigorously around her. It had been long months of traveling, doing mercenary work, and getting half cut on a few missions due to her inability to keep the target alive once or twice. She was pent up with aggression and frustration and without having to run further by going on a rampage Ghoul thought dancing and getting extremely intoxicated was the next best thing.

There were a few hands that graced her skin but with her dexterity she was able to always slip away before someone became grabby enough to ensure their arm or hand got broken. Time faded way song after song and her feet and hips never stopped to take a break. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she joined the cycling crowd of people but she didn’t plan to stop just yet. The aurora was still strong in her veins intensifying the vibrations from the music around and letting her feel every beat of her heart. The rhythm she was dancing to soon switched as the beat became heavier and more industrial she felt large hands come into contact with her hips. Their body pressed upon hers and as if by instinct she felt herself fall back into them without a second thought. Their hot breath was caressing her left ear and a soothing enduring voice spoke to her.

[bearlytolerant]

[dandylion-virtual-adventurer]

Astral Lounge

[starfieldphotos]

Neon earns its name.

[shatinn]

Starfield 86/?

[fatedroses]

Many things were used to describe the mad hermit of Amaurot: a drunkard, degenerate, cynical, and even monstrous by those who stirred trouble for the newly appointed Azem. But nothing could prepare Emet-Selch for what he would see for himself, when offered a chance to meet the Sun's Shadow.

[seraaphiel]

Neon Nights🌙

[seranavolkihars]

sarah we have astral lounge at home

[iamlisteningto]

Ruth Mascelli’s The Institute For Astral Health

[trashartgalleries]

Your parents be doing drugs at the Astral Lounge????? 🤣🤣🤣🤣

[musclesandhammering]

I genuinely hope the next time we see loki he’s wearing sweatpants and a hoodie

Thor: ur not depressed are you? That outfit looks extra cozy.

[fangbangerghoul]

Chapter 7: Ghal Time

Valentine edition WC: 1983 Ghoul is at the Astral Lounge looking to ignore her woes. TW: Smut, dance floor funsies, bathroom shenanigans

I had been sitting on this for a while so instead of doing a WIP WEDNESDAY (thank you for the tag @therealgchu) I am posting this finally!

There will be a snippet shared under the cut and the rest will be on Ao3 in the title link!

This chapter features an OC by @bearlytolerant, whom I love with all my heart

The Astral Lounge was dimly lit aside from the center of the dance floor that held a level specifically for their hired dancers of the night. Ghoul was already three drinks in and two vials of aurora as she melded herself in with the crowd of bodies to continue dancing throughout the night. Her outfit of choice left very little to the imagination as the deep red dress hugged her body and the mesh that was fused with the straps that laced across her hips and her chest teased the audience around her. Her vibrant green hair was down allowing her curls to bounce as she moved with the base and drums that echoed throughout the molecules of her physical form. 

Her golden eyes were dilated and the whites of her eyes faintly red from the level of intoxication she was at within this point of time. Ghoul’s thoughts barely formed coherent sentences but her body was able to maintain clear communication with the others that danced vigorously around her. It had been long months of traveling, doing mercenary work, and getting half cut on a few missions due to her inability to keep the target alive once or twice. She was pent up with aggression and frustration and without having to run further by going on a rampage Ghoul thought dancing and getting extremely intoxicated was the next best thing. 

There were a few hands that graced her skin but with her dexterity she was able to always slip away before someone became grabby enough to ensure their arm or hand got broken. Time faded way song after song and her feet and hips never stopped to take a break. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she joined the cycling crowd of people but she didn’t plan to stop just yet. 

The aurora was still strong in her veins, intensifying the vibrations from the music around and letting her feel every beat of her heart. The rhythm she was dancing to soon switched as the beat became heavier and more industrial she felt large hands come into contact with her hips. Their body pressed upon hers and as if by instinct she felt herself fall back into them without a second thought. Their hot breath was caressing her left ear and a soothing enduring voice spoke to her.

[aventurineswife]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request Aventurine, Ratio and Dan Heng (separately) with a female S/O who never calls them handsome or hot because in her opinion that's overrated? And instead when she compliments their looks she always calls them something more poetic I guess, like "You're gorgeous", "mesmerizing" or just calls them pretty?

Please and thank you.

More Than a Pretty Face

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Romance, Fluff, Light Humor, Emotional Moments, Introspection.

Aventurine lounged on a velvet chaise in his opulent quarters, his earring catching the light as he idly shuffled a deck of cards. “Tell me, darling,” he said, flashing his signature smile, “on a scale from dashing to devastatingly gorgeous, where do I stand today?”

You chuckled from across the room, rolling your eyes as you adjusted a vase of desert lilies. “I’d say... clever. Maybe a touch insufferable.”

Aventurine’s smile faltered, replaced by a mock pout. “Clever? That’s all? You wound me.”

You turned to him, hands on your hips, your gaze warm but teasing. “Oh, come on. You don’t need me to inflate your ego. You’ve got mirrors for that.”

“True,” he admitted, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hand. “But a man like me thrives on compliments.”

You approached, your voice softening. “Then here’s one you don’t hear enough—you’re brilliant, Aventurine. The way you outmaneuvered those IPC board members today? It was genius. That’s why I’m with you. Not because of your looks.”

For a moment, his facade cracked, and the weight of your words settled over him. He reached for your hand, pulling you onto the chaise beside him. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

You smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face. “And you’re more than just a pretty face, even if you like pretending otherwise.”

Aventurine laughed, a genuine sound that filled the room. “Darling, you may be the only gamble I’ve ever taken that feels like a sure thing.”

Ratio was deep in thought, sketching out a complex theorem on his holographic tablet. You sat nearby, engrossed in a book, though your eyes occasionally flicked to him. The way the strands of his hair fell into his eyes, his intense focus—it was hard not to admire him.

“Something on your mind?” he asked without looking up, his sharp intuition catching your gaze.

You shrugged. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“How you’re... brilliant. And maybe a little intimidating.”

Ratio finally looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Brilliant, I’ll accept. Intimidating, though? That’s a first.”

You set your book aside, crossing the room to stand beside him. “You’re intimidating because you always seem so sure of yourself. Like there’s no challenge you can’t overcome.”

He leaned back in his chair, studying you with curiosity. “You could simply call me handsome, you know. It’s what most people resort to when they’re unsure how to express admiration.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Handsome is overrated. Plenty of people are handsome. But how many can look at a problem no one else can solve and find the answer?”

Ratio’s lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. “Flattery through intellect. Unexpected, but effective.”

You leaned down, brushing a kiss against his temple. “Good. Because that’s the kind of man I fell for—the one who challenges the universe, not just the mirror.”

Dan Heng sat in the archives of the Astral Express, organizing old data files with his usual quiet precision. You entered, carrying two steaming cups of tea. You set one beside him and took a seat across the table, watching him work.

“You don’t have to hover,” he said without looking up, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward.

“Who’s hovering? I’m just... admiring the view,” you teased.

Dan Heng’s gaze finally met yours, one eyebrow raised. “Admiring?”

You smirked, taking a sip of your tea. “What? You’re not used to me watching you?”

“I’m used to you avoiding words like ‘handsome’ or ‘hot.’ It’s... unusual.”

You set your cup down, leaning forward. “That’s because those words don’t do you justice. You’re more than that.”

His expression softened, the faintest hint of a blush coloring his cheeks. “More than that?”

“Yeah. You’re dependable. Thoughtful. A little too serious sometimes, but it’s part of your charm.” You reached across the table, taking his hand in yours. “You’re the kind of person people can rely on. That’s what makes you special, not just the way you look.”

Dan Heng’s silence spoke volumes, the weight of your words sinking in. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with genuine gratitude. “That means more than you know.”

You smiled, resting your chin in your hand. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me, Mr. Reliable.”

For the first time in a while, Dan Heng allowed himself a small, genuine smile. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[blaydie]

ᥫ᭡ A FOOL’S MISTAKE — “It’s not like him to be so careless.” -> Dan Heng x GN reader.

Word count: 1.2k

Contains: Dan Heng x GN reader, injured Dan Heng, fluff, comfort, affection, reassurance, cuddles, kissing, indirect confession.

Sprawled across your bed, Dan Heng lays there, scrunching his brows when your hand rubs over the wound he received while with the crew. He was sent back to the Astral Express, advised by Himeko to rest for the remainder of this trip. You’ve been here for a while and are accustomed to everyone’s mannerisms, but even an outsider could tell how frustrated he was for letting his guard down so easily. It’s not like him to be so careless.

“I swear I saw you. You were there.” He grunts, his fingers creasing your sheets with the force he grips them. The ointment coats the damaged skin, aiding repair and prevention of infection.

Whatever he experienced out there has led to a set of delusions. He keeps repeating the same words as though he is in denial about the truth.

“I’ve been here with Pom-Pom the entire time. I haven’t stepped foot off of the Express since our last mission.”

“I tried to—”

“Himeko said you ran straight into the enemies. Mr. Yang called you back, but you didn’t listen to him. Whatever hallucination you had wasn’t real, Dan. I’m okay. I never left the Express.” You speak softly, attempting to calm him from his frenzied state.

“…” His eyes fluttered, releasing his clutch on the sheets. His index finger trails down the length of your arm, searching you for any wounds.

“I’m fine, I swear to you. I wouldn’t lie to you, especially not about something like that.”

“It knew how to get to me then.” He mutters, leaving his hand flat on top of yours. “I thought you were going to die.”

“It was a cruel trick. You know the others wouldn’t let that happen so easily though.”

“Hallucination or not, I wouldn’t let you go like that. I couldn’t just watch it happen.”

“In future, please don’t rush into a hoard of creatures for me without double-checking with the others. You’re worried about me dying, but you could’ve been seriously hurt if that fight wasn’t wrapped up quickly.”

“I’m a fool.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am. I’m the only one who was unable to resist their manipulation. That hallucination. Everyone must have seen a different one.”

“You were just worried for my safety. I’m sure if anyone else witnessed one of us in danger, they would have had a similar reaction. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

A shaky exhale left his lips while his fingers locked with yours. His thumb brushed over the bumps of your knuckles, grounding himself from the extensive shock his body underwent. He remembers that day when he swore he would never let anything harm you, how you will always be the first one he saves. There was never a moment you doubted him, fully aware of how willing he is to throw away his own life if it means you get to live. 

“I got you a change of clothes when I heard you were hurt. I had to search through your closet, I hope you don’t mind.” You sheepishly push a fresh set of clothes towards him—the ones you usually catch him lounging in while working in the archives late at night.

“No, not at all. Thank you. I’m glad that you’re the first person I saw when I woke up.” Discarding his sombre expression, his lips twist up slightly. A subtle twinge of colour spreads across his face, scooting you aside while he sits up.

“Is the bandage too tight? I can loosen it a little if you’d like.” You glance at his bare torso, eyes lingering on his abdomen for longer than you’d like to admit. Something was alluring about him in your perspective, something that others may not see. 

“It’s fine. I appreciate the effort you put in to take care of me.” He stands to his feet, turning his back to you as he changes his attire.

When fully covered, he returns to your bed. Propping a pillow against the headboard, he pulls a blanket over himself, seemingly getting himself comfortable. It appears that he plans to stay here for the remainder of the evening, something he knows you won’t protest. Pulling you into his side, your head collides with his shoulder, a shared spell of laughter illuminating the darkness that was once cast in your room.

“I need to tell the group chat you’re okay. They were worried sick about you when you fell unconscious.” You reach for your phone, snapping a picture of the very alive Dan Heng beside you. 

Within a few seconds, multiple notifications flood your screen, mainly March and Pom-Pom, the usual dramatics when something like this occurs. Himeko sends her best wishes while Mr. Yang writes a small lecture. He doesn’t mean any harm by what he said, it’s the instinct of being a parent—he will always look out for you all, whether you like it or not. 

“I’m sorry if I frightened you,” Dan speaks up when you turn off your phone, capturing your attention.

“Don’t be. All I ask is that you don’t die without me.”

“I’ll try my best.”

Weaving his arms around you, he held you close in an embrace, the only sound filling the room being your mingled breaths completely in sync. It’s no mistake that out of everyone on the Express, Dan’s strongest connection is with you. You’re the one he turns to when he feels no one else would understand his woes, you accepted him and his stoic ways into your life without trying to change him. For that, he’s grateful. You understand that not every issue can be fixed with a smile, a snack, or a nap.

Shifting his hand from the small of your back, he pushes your chin up. You grin at him, eyes crinkling as he stares back at you. The outline of your lips is a shape he learned how to trace, now able to reconstruct it using his memory when not presented in front of him.

“I’m glad you joined the Express. Travelling through the stars together is romantic when you view it the right way. I wouldn’t want to experience that with anybody else.”

Sealing his sweet speech, he presses his lips to yours in a searing kiss. Allowing him more space, you open your mouth slightly. Dan adored every inch of you, being granted permission to be so affectionate was merely a blessing. The heat radiating from his palms made your skin clammy, a stark contrast to his usual cold hands. 

Pulling away, your saliva remains at the corner of his mouth while he beams at you, his eyes half-lidded. His chest heaves, your lips more pronounced from the puffiness. The look in his eyes speaks words that he is not yet ready to admit, and you understand them all. When the time comes, he’ll tell you properly in the way he has planned. 

Developing an attraction to you felt like a mistake at first, he didn’t want to let you down and paint himself to be someone he’s not. However, you proved to him that you can handle all of his issues and emotions. Every flaw he possesses you manage to see the beauty—memories which used to haunt him don’t dare reside in his mind when you’re nearby. You ease the pain placed upon him.

[areislol]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤa sereande of stars

pairings. sunday x gn! reader

warnings. just fluff

a/n. based off of that one text between the trailblazer and sunday

wc. 574

synopsis. after a long day on the astral express, you struggle to fall asleep. dan heng suggests asking sunday for help. to your surprise, the aloof halovian agrees—and lulls you to sleep with his gentle voice.

the astral express was unusually quiet, the hum of its engines a steady background noise. despite the stillness and the comforting sway of the train, you lay in your cabin, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. the events of the day replayed in your mind like a whirlwind, refusing to let you rest.

a soft knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts. you sat up as the door slid open to reveal dan heng, his usual composed expression betraying a flicker of concern.

“still awake?” he asked.

“yeah,” you admitted, running a hand through your hair. “i’ve tried everything, but i just can’t seem to switch off.”

dan heng considered you for a moment before offering a suggestion. “sunday might be able to help.”

“sunday?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“he’s... surprisingly good at lulling people to sleep. ask him to sing for you,” dan heng said, his tone calm but carrying the faintest hint of amusement.

you blinked. “wait, he sings? sunday sings?”

dan heng only nodded before leaving, clearly done with his part in the conversation.

you hesitated for a moment but eventually gathered the courage to head toward the archives. sunday, ever diligent, was there as expected, seated at his desk, surrounded by a mountain of books and scrolls. the glow of the terminal cast soft light over his pale features.

“sunday?” you called hesitantly.

he looked up, his sharp blue eyes meeting yours. “yes? shouldn’t you be resting by now?”

“that’s the problem,” you said sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. “i can’t sleep. dan heng said… well, he said you might be able to help.”

sunday tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “help how?”

you felt your cheeks warm as you avoided his gaze. “he said you could sing… a lullaby.”

a brief silence followed. you braced yourself for a cold dismissal, but instead, sunday let out a soft sigh, standing gracefully from his chair.

“if it will help, i suppose i can oblige,” he said, his tone casual but his words filled with an unexpected warmth. “come.”

you followed him to a small lounge area, where he gestured for you to sit. feeling a bit self-conscious, you settled onto the plush couch, pulling a blanket over your lap. sunday sat across from you, his hands folded neatly in his lap as he regarded you with quiet intensity.

“what kind of lullaby would you like?” he asked softly.

“anything, really,” you murmured, your eyes already feeling heavier under his calm, soothing presence.

sunday nodded, his gaze softening. when he began to sing, his voice was low and smooth, each note wrapping around you like a gentle embrace.

the melody was unfamiliar, something ancient and serene, with words you couldn’t quite understand. yet, the emotion in his voice was unmistakable—steadiness, comfort, and a quiet strength that seemed to shield you from the worries of the world.

you found yourself closing your eyes, the sound of his voice carrying you away. the tension in your body melted as you sank deeper into the cushions, your breathing slowing to match the rhythm of his song.

“rest,” he murmured softly, his voice like a whisper against your mind. “let the stars guard your dreams.”

the last thing you remembered before sleep claimed you was the warmth of his presence and the faint curve of his lips—an expression so rare, it felt like a secret meant only for you.

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[kunikame]

warmth of the sun embodied in you. - ace t.

warnings : mostly narration, astral references, malleus mention, ace is my muse my most beloved im sorry i will never shut up about him, i love the sun i love ace trappola w/c : 1045

there was always something about ace trappola that simply demanded attention. 

it wasn’t something easy to spot, something visible to the naked eye– no, it was something intangible, something deep within him that simply made the people around him unable to look away. his presence simply pulled gazes much like magnets and metals.

some people say it's because he's “such an ass it has you staring”, but then why are their gazes filled with wonder? 

in the time you spent here, you’ve come to find the only person who looked at ace with mostly apprehension was riddle rosehearts, his very own dorm leader. it’s no wonder, really, with how much of a troublemaker the ginger is (and with how many rules he breaks), but even despite that, sometimes, riddle looks at him starstruck as well.

you find yourself questioning this reality. while ace is a dear friend of yours, and he has been exceptionally nice to you (excluding the times he wasn’t because that's just who he is), you still don’t quite understand what exactly about him just has you turning your head to look at the ginger instead of the blackboard crewel is breaking his back to write on.

and it is perhaps in that fateful classroom where you finally begin to piece it together.

there was always something akin to a spotlight placed on ace trappola– whether it be one you imagined, the light from a lamp, or just literally the sun's rays– he was always the main attraction, always eye-catching.

or perhaps, it's not that he placed himself under the spotlights, perhaps the spotlights placed him under themselves. perhaps they chased him, were attracted to him, like moths to a flame. except, shouldn't it be the other way around? no, with ace, it shouldn’t. with or without a spotlight he somehow seems to shine brighter than the lights in rooms he occupies, somehow seems to bring more light than the actual source– and if he’s not the moth, he must be the flame, it just makes sense. 

people didn’t look at him because he was an ass, they looked at him because that’s just ace. simple as that– he is ace trappola and you must look at him, you must pay attention to him. whether he’s performing his card tricks or just spinning a pencil in class, he needs to be looked at because he is ace trappola and his presence demands attention– not quite like malleus, whose presence commands the rooms he enters, but still does so, in a sense.

throughout the next few weeks, you continued to observe the ginger, desperately trying to piece the puzzle together, trying to dissect him and figure out what exactly made him what you know him to be.

it was on a particularly cold autumn friday night, way past your regular bedtime– though, that was a necessary sacrifice to make for the 1st year game night– when you believe you finally figured it out.

you sat perched on the wide windowsill of the lounge, staring at the moon and faintly visible stars, the only never-changing constant in this twisted wonderland that you could confidently say reminded you of home.

the white light radiating off the orb felt mostly cold, but there were some remnants of the warmth the sun shared with it, warmth which it reflected upon the Earth, upon you.

then there was another presence– one of the other 6 current occupants of the lounge.

“what’re you doin’ up so late? couldn't sleep?”

you hum, watching as he seats himself on the opposite end of the windowsill, “yeah, something like that.”

“thinking about something? or was it deuce’s snoring, ‘cause that wakes me up too, sometimes.”

“mostly just thinking. what about you? why aren’t you sleeping? i don’t hear deuce snoring right now.”

he huffs a short laugh, ruffling his ginger mop of a horrendous bedhead, “honestly, i was awake the whole time. Grim kicked me in the head just now, though, so i figured i’d.. relocate, for a bit. thaumark for your thoughts? or we can just observe the moon, or whatever it is you were doing, if you want.”

as you stare at him under the moons’ light, it’s almost like it’s not even the white ball in the sky that radiates the heat and light, but rather ace– but if that were to be the case, that would make him the sun, wouldn’t it? since it’s the primary source, it’s what makes the moon glow?

perhaps he is, perhaps he has been all along, you’ve simply been too blinded by him to truly notice– for as they say, you shouldn’t stare at the eclipse without the proper protection for your eyes. now, as you look at him in the dark, it seems all too clear, all too obvious to deny. ace trappola has always glowed in ways more than perceptible– there was always this bright halo, a warm aura of sorts, around him. ace trappola has always been an enigmatic being to the people around him, whether it be for his way of living, his personality, or simply his behavioral patterns– he was never easy to understand or to decipher, but that’s one of the primary things which made him so interesting. there’s an undeniable pull about him that sucks everything and everyone into his atmosphere, making everything simply revolve around him– much like the planets revolve around the sun. his touch is always warm, burningly so, like he sits in the sunlight, soaking it up, with the sole purpose of being a living human heater. 

and despite people saying it’s best to stay clear of him in fear of being pulled along with his shenanigans, if you were to be given a choice on your position in the solar system ace is the center of, you would choose to be mercury, for incineration is a small price to pay for loving the sun. if you are to lose your vision or crash and burn and fade away into nothingness at the end of everything, then so be it– least your ashes will forever exist in the same space as him.

“i was just thinking you held the rays of the sun in your palms, and it’s warmth in you.”

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