#SUNDAY :(((((((

[rewuyuu]

[nyxcirce]

Sunday that flutter his little wings everytime he sees you. He does it unintentionally because he's too excited and happy when he sees you. Especially when he gets nervous talking to you or maintaining eye contact, his wings will flap uncontrollably. Or when he can feel his face heating up and getting so red he thwacks his face with his wings to cover his reddening cheeks.

[kindrehd]

aventurine 5

[aventurineswife]

Following up from the post when the characters were sick, what if the reader got sick as well and now they're both sick?

When Weakness Brings Us Closer

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Sampo x Reader, Sick Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Caring for Each Other, Mutual Vulnerability, Slight Whump, Domestic Moments.

Warnings: Depictions of Illness, Mentions of Overworking or Stress as a Trigger for Illness, Emotional Vulnerability, Possible Light Angst (emotional moments, feelings of guilt, or unspoken tension).

The opulent room, filled with Aventurine’s usual flair for the dramatic—velvet curtains, golden ornaments, and dimmed lights—felt oddly claustrophobic. Both of you were confined to the lavish couch, a pile of tissues growing steadily on the ornate coffee table.

“You’re an amateur at this, you know,” Aventurine teased, his voice hoarse but laced with his usual wit. Despite his own flushed cheeks and drooping posture, he gestured grandly, a half-empty cup of tea in one hand. “This is why I warned you about staying too close to me when I was under the weather.”

“You were the one who wouldn’t stop bragging about your ‘impenetrable immunity,’” you shot back, sniffling.

He laughed, though it turned into a hacking cough. Aventurine’s usual flamboyance was muted by the cold, but his sharp eyes still held a spark of mischief.

“Well,” he rasped, leaning back dramatically, “if we’re both doomed to misery, we may as well make the most of it. Cards, perhaps? Or do you prefer a rousing debate about my unparalleled brilliance?”

You rolled your eyes but found yourself smiling despite your exhaustion. In this vulnerable moment, Aventurine’s charm wasn’t just an act—it was his way of making you forget the heaviness of your shared misery.

The room was unnaturally quiet, save for the occasional sound of Sunday stirring a cup of herbal tea. Both of you sat in the dimly lit chamber, his halo casting a soft glow.

“Rest,” Sunday murmured, his voice gentle but insistent as he handed you the tea. His usually immaculate appearance was slightly disheveled—his scarf hung loose, and his golden eyes seemed dimmer. Yet, even in sickness, he radiated calm.

You sipped the tea, grateful for its warmth, though your own fever made it hard to feel much else. “You’re one to talk,” you replied weakly, gesturing at his pale complexion. “You should be resting too.”

“I will,” he assured, though his actions betrayed him as he began fluffing your pillows. “Your health is more important.”

The care in his actions made your heart ache in a way no illness could. Despite his own state, Sunday couldn’t seem to stop prioritizing you.

“You’re stubborn,” you said, lying back against the pillows with a small smile.

“And you’re in no position to argue,” he countered, his lips twitching into the faintest of smiles before he settled into the chair beside you. “Let’s both rest now.”

The room was a mess—half-empty cups, discarded tissues, and an overturned bottle of cough syrup bore witness to Sampo’s less-than-stellar sickbed manner.

“See? Told you we’d be in this together,” Sampo said with a grin, his voice raspy but still filled with his signature charm. He leaned against the headboard of the bed you now shared, a blanket draped haphazardly over his lap.

“Yeah, thanks for that,” you muttered, glaring at him from your cocoon of blankets.

“Oh, come on,” he said, reaching over to nudge you lightly. “It’s not so bad. At least now you have me to keep you entertained.”

“Entertained? You’ve done nothing but complain about the soup I made!”

He chuckled, though it quickly turned into a coughing fit. “Hey, I’m just saying, next time we’re sick, I’ll make the soup. I’ve got this great recipe—secret family tradition, you know.”

You groaned, but a reluctant smile tugged at your lips. Sampo, even at his most annoying, had a way of making the worst situations bearable.

The Astral Express was unusually still, the usual hum of activity replaced by the sound of sneezes and groans. Dan Heng sat cross-legged on the floor beside the bed, his spear leaning against the wall for easy access even in his weakened state.

“You should be lying down,” you said, your voice scratchy as you shifted under the covers.

Dan Heng shook his head, his quiet determination as unyielding as ever. “You need the bed more than I do,” he replied, though his pale complexion and tired eyes betrayed his stubbornness.

“Dan Heng,” you said softly, “you’re not going to be much help to anyone if you don’t rest.”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to yours. With a reluctant sigh, he leaned back against the wall, finally allowing himself a moment of reprieve.

“I just don’t like being… useless,” he admitted quietly, his stoicism cracking just enough to reveal a flicker of vulnerability.

“You’re not useless,” you assured him, reaching out to brush his hand lightly. “You’re here. That’s enough.”

Dan Heng’s lips curved into a faint smile, and for the first time since the sickness had struck, the weight between you both felt a little lighter.

[h0neysp1ce]

Since Sunday is now a playable character on HSR, have been debating making a part 2 to this :^

Random Thoughts about Sunday

Sunday! - who asked you to marry him in his own way, interlocking your hands with his while you look at each other face to face. "My Dear, [Name] I could spend Eternity with you don't you know?"

Sunday! - who has the habit of tracing over your hands, especially the hand with your engagement ring and wedding ring. he loves admiring how lovely the rings look on you, and he won't admit it out loud but he loves that your his and he's yours.

Sunday! - who while he's handling affairs with the Oak Family, or just any business at all, he's fidgeting with his own wedding ring that is hidden under His gloved hand, It reminding him every time just how much it makes him happy that he's with you, and maybe a way of Missing you when he's busy at work.

Sunday! - who thinks of you as his light, the center of his universe, his way through the darkness, his anchor, his most beloved ,His most dearest.

Sunday! - who will make sure you never come to no harm or danger, this man's priority is your safety, he's very protective of you.

Sunday! - who thinks you're the most beautiful person he's ever met, and you'll continue to be forever in his eyes

Sunday! - who sneaks glances at you when you're not looking.

Sunday! - who kisses your hands, littering them in his kisses, praising , whispering sweet things as he kisses a new patch of skin.

Sunday! - who lets you touch his wings, every so often, you happen to have the special privilege, only he allows you to do this and no one else

Sunday! - who greets you with a kiss, once he's finished with his work.

Sunday! who loves when you pepper kisses all over his face, soaking up all your attention and affection.

Sunday! - who loves embracing you, any chance he gets.

Sunday! who picks you up bridal style and carries you.

Sunday! - who loves calling you "His Dove", "His Darling", "My Angel"

Sweetheart, Love (Pet names)

was reading up on his lore and story last night and got inspired 🤭

[tsukishiroism]

there are gay people kissing in my team select screen

[viktorian-ghost]

The power of 🌈friendship🌈 is truly unbeatable

Sunday watching Welt lose his glasses that are on his face, Trailblazer jump head first into a trash can, Dan Heng never shower and sleep on the floor, March 7th fall for every scam in the universe, and Himeko burn this shit out of some coffee beans and just being like….

THESE are the people who hit me with a fucking train and took me down at my most powerful??? Are you SURE?????

[bakubonez]

Sunday x GN! Reader || fluff, drabble thingies

Summary: just,,, yapping about Sunday

A/N: rah I love him. Sunday plz come home ily. Not proofread. feel free to take inspiration from these for a fic if you’d like, I don’t mind !!

sunday LOVES you. we all know that, but i mean hes SO doting. to him, you have no imperfections. have you seen the way he loves Robin?? he'd absolutely go above and beyond for you :(

he makes an effort to be forgiving of you. whenever you do something that ticks him off, he utilises his well practiced patience to soothe his irritation.

i've been seeing stuff like this going around, and i just want to say he would NOT hit you or hurt you on purpose in any way. hes careful to not hurt you at all, let alone resorting to laying hands on you.

he adores being able to learn from you and experience things with you at his side. ever since his exile(?? i think thats the word) from penacony, he's been exposed to so many new things. there's no one else he'd rather experience it with, only you.

he doesnt care too much about your appearance. of course, he appreciates when you do dress up or make an effort to look nice, and he'll vocalise his feelings by complimenting you as much as he can. but overall he isn't too bothered. you're magnificent to him, even if in reality you look a bit disheveled. it doesnt matter to him.

i can see him as very veeery chivalrous. holding doors for you, frequent gifts when he can get them, helping you get ready in the mornings if you'll allow him, offering you his coat when there's a chilly breeze—all that sort of stuff :3

he's super gentle with you, in any scenario. you can expect loving, tender kisses and light touches from him rather than anything too rough.

honestly he'd probably be delighted if you ended up getting along with Robin. you and Robin are his favourite people, so of course he'd be thrilled to know that you all get along well.

overall he is very sweet 10/10. my little meow meow

[chkn-kit]

i was bored so i sketched two of my favorite hsr characters hehe

[khrysm]

Hooded Angel

One last Sunday drawing before the end of the year!

2024-12-18

[jumexju]

good afternoon to my wife (sunday) and only my wife (sunday)

commissions are open on my ko-fi!

IF EVIL WHY :3???

[a--z--u--l]

Excelente domingo para aceptar que hay cosas que jamás podrán ser.

[aventurineswife]

After seeing Sunday playing piano in his trailer, i started thinking about sunday with a pianist!reader. Maybe they'd play stuff together or maybe even the reader is better than him and he's flustered or smthn... The brain wormsss gahh

A Duet of Souls

Summary: In the quiet of the Astral Express observatory car, you and Sunday share a moment of connection through music. After playing a soft, melodic piece on the piano, Sunday reveals his own secret talent for playing, and the two of you engage in a duet. As you play together, the music creates a peaceful, intimate atmosphere that allows Sunday to relax and open up.

Tags: Sunday x Reader, Duet, Connection, Intimacy, Vulnerability, Reflection, Piano, Bonding, Quiet Moments.

A/N: HE SO PRETTY WAHH!! ☹️😭 (I'm still loyal to aven), tell me why cure just played while I was editing this 💀... (The fact I was thinking about it like: “Imagine Spotify plays CURE lol”)

The Astral Express was more than just a train; it was a floating sanctuary in the vastness of the universe. You often found yourself lost in the sounds of the stars, the subtle hum of the tracks beneath your feet. It was on one of those nights, after a long journey, that you were drawn to the quiet, gentle hum of a piano.

The observatory car was empty, save for you, seated at the gleaming instrument. Your fingers moved across the keys, creating a soft, melodic tune that resonated in the quiet. You had always been passionate about music, but here, in this strange world of stars and limitless possibilities, the piano seemed to speak to you in a way no words ever could.

You lost yourself in the music, your fingers dancing across the black and white keys, weaving a complex, intricate melody. The notes floated through the air, blending with the whispers of the universe.

It was then that you heard footsteps behind you.

“Your music is... quite mesmerizing,” a smooth voice said.

You turned slightly, seeing him standing just beyond the door — Sunday. His usual composed expression was softened by the subtle warmth in his eyes. He wore his signature tailcoat, the dark blue and white contrasting sharply against the golden details. His halo hovered faintly behind his head, casting a soft, ethereal light across the room.

You smiled, a little taken aback by his sudden appearance. “Thank you. I was just letting the music take me somewhere.”

Sunday stepped closer, his gaze shifting to the piano. “I see... I must admit, I’ve always admired music. I’m a bit of a pianist myself.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Really? I didn’t know that. I’d love to hear you play sometime.”

Sunday chuckled softly, his gaze flickering to the piano as though the instrument were an old acquaintance. “Perhaps not now. I’ve mostly played alone, but I do enjoy the art.”

You smiled, motioning toward the bench. “Well, maybe we could play together? I’d be curious to see what you can do.”

His eyes gleamed with intrigue, though there was a slight hesitation in his posture. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep up with you,” he said, but the playful edge to his tone betrayed his amusement.

You raised an eyebrow, a challenge in your gaze. “Let’s make it interesting, then. How about a duet?”

For a moment, Sunday seemed lost in thought. The idea of performing with someone — sharing a space so intimately — was a foreign concept to him. But then, with a quiet breath, he stepped forward and sat beside you, taking his place at the other end of the piano.

You began to play a simple piece, one you knew well, but with an underlying complexity to it. Sunday watched your hands move with focus, almost studying the motions. His fingers hovered above the keys, unsure.

"Just follow my lead," you said gently.

Sunday nodded, his fingers finally pressing down on the keys. At first, his melody was hesitant, almost tentative, but as he picked up the rhythm, his playing became smoother, more fluid. You adjusted to his pace, blending your pieces together as if the music were weaving a story.

For a while, you both played in sync, the melody ebbing and flowing like a gentle tide. The sound filled the room, and for the first time, Sunday seemed to relax, his usually stoic expression shifting to one of quiet enjoyment. He looked at you, an unspoken appreciation in his eyes.

After a while, the music slowed, coming to a soft, lingering end. Sunday sat back, a small smile gracing his lips. He was uncharacteristically quiet, his gaze still on the piano keys.

“You were right,” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper. “That was... enjoyable. You’re an extraordinary pianist.”

You blushed at the compliment, shrugging slightly. “You weren’t bad yourself. You caught on faster than I thought.”

Sunday’s smile widened, though there was a hint of something deeper in his eyes. “Perhaps,” he said, his voice carrying a touch of playfulness. “But I believe I still have much to learn from you.”

You laughed softly, feeling the tension ease between you two. “I’d be happy to teach you more. Music is meant to be shared, after all.”

He nodded, the glimmer in his eyes softening. For a moment, there was a rare vulnerability in his gaze, one that you could almost touch if you reached out.

Sunday leaned back against the bench, eyes still fixed on the piano. "You know," he mused, his voice quieter now, almost wistful, "there is something... comforting about this. Music has a way of drawing us away from the noise of the world."

You met his gaze, recognizing the deeper meaning behind his words. "It’s true. In a way, music can be its own form of escape. A place where everything else fades away."

Sunday nodded, the faintest of smiles returning to his lips. “Perhaps, in the end, that’s all anyone really seeks — a peaceful refuge from the world.”

There was a moment of silence between you two, filled only by the soft echoes of the piano’s last notes.

"I suppose," you said softly, your voice matching the contemplative tone of his, "but maybe there's room for more than just escape. Maybe there’s room for growth, too."

Sunday looked at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment, as if pondering your words. Then, with a soft chuckle, he stood, offering you his hand.

"Perhaps you are right," he said, his tone gentle but thoughtful. "I look forward to exploring more with you, both in music and... in other ways."

You took his hand, feeling the warmth in his grip, and stood together in the quiet afterglow of the music, a sense of shared understanding lingering between you both.

In that moment, the universe didn’t seem so vast, nor so cold. With music, with each other, there was warmth. There was connection. And in Sunday��s gaze, there was the faintest glimmer of hope — a hope that, perhaps, even in his dream of peace, there could be room for something more.

[dailyjermasparkle]

[luxiaar]

may you bask in the light of an eternal Sunday, while I linger in its twilight, your unwavering pillar