#Sunday HSR

[rewuyuu]

[hunnieknight]

Feathers and Paws (Just Art)

Sunday birb can't catch a break.

--

Big boye doesn't realize he is a big boye

Based on this

Good doggie...just being a good doggie

I miss my doggie :'(

[akiqvq]

What about the coffee/Choco??

The fallen pudding tart

[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.

[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.

[komelliko]

manipulative!boss!sunday x timid!secretary!reader (now with aventurine!)

summary: Days after the dinner with Sunday, Aventurine decides to check in on you for his own reasons. part 1 / part 2 / part 3 (nsfw) / part 4

---

"Hey! How's it going, doll?"

"—Venny!"

Aventurine strode over, swinging a watch chain idly in his hands. Whatever hung from its ends was far too small to be a conventional pocketwatch from the way he twisted it between his fingers, but the circular case was still rather ornately decorated. Of course, it only made sense that a man like Aventurine would be dripping in gold, useful items or otherwise.

"Has Feather-head been sending you all over the place again?" Aventurine asked. "Come on, I can get being a busybody here and there, but you really overdo it sometimes."

You laugh, shrinking into yourself a little. "Oh, a job's a job..." you digress. He raises his brows, accepting your statement but not entirely convinced. The way he props his arm up on the nearby table almost makes it seem like he's hovering over you a little. ...But there's something friendly in his eyes, so you pay it no mind.

"Say, I wouldn't mind taking you out for a drink or two one of these days. If there's a single person in Penacony who needs it, it'd be you. Aeons know I've got money to spend."

You chuckle, eyes still timidly askance. "Don't trouble yourself with me, Venny. I'm sure you've got much better things to do." "I'm being' square with you, babe, believe me!" He laughs. "I wanna hear all about what that boss of yours is putting you through. You can vent to a friend, can't you, doll?" Perhaps the fact that your face drops gives a little too much away. Now you're looking away to hide the blush on your face, mortified with yourself. "He's not as bad as you'd think," you stammer through your teeth. "Honestly, he probably thinks I work too much." It's not as if it technically isn't true. Sunday's flippancy over dinner all those days ago made that much clear. "Then he's got no right to balk about you taking the day off, now does he?" You sigh, rolling your eyes. "You know what, sure," you smile. "Let me get everything put back in my office, and I'll meet you somewhere." Aventurine clicks his teeth, shooting finger guns at you before the two of you part ways.

... ... ... ...

When you usually open the door to your office, you tend to close it behind you in a very deliberate way, keeping your back pressed up against the door. It's not as if you enjoy the little cage (that's often what it feels like, with the columns of gold that run up the walls across the floor to meet in the center), but it serves its purpose. It keeps your papers in, and it keeps the world out.

Usually. "Mister Sunday?" You've never seen Sunday move as fast as he does when he stands up from opening the drawers in your desk. It's almost uncanny watching his face as he's caught off his guard for the slightest moment, almost staring in wonder at you standing there. "[Y/N]," he marvels. "What a surprise." You should be asking what he's doing there, and furthermore why he needed to be going through your desk to do it... But Sunday was your boss. All of the papers in there were going to be sent to him anyways, and that's all you have in the desk—papers, stamps, official stationery. You'd heard of some that would fill their desk drawers with more personal items, but that had never been your style. "I was just looking for you, sir," you lie, hanging up your bag on the coat rack by the door. "I was going the ask for the rest of the day off." Sunday lights up. Clearly he'd gotten through to you the other night, he reasons. You had always been oh so very shy about your affections towards him, he was sure of it—So how else would you ask for more time with him than to ask it like this? "Of course, dear," Sunday smiles. "You've worked so hard this past week, you only deserve some time to yourself. You can have the rest of the week off if you'd like that as well." Surprised, your eyes widen at the offer. "That's quite generous of you, Mr. Sunday. I don't think that's necessary." "Please, dear, anything for you. Would you like me to escort you home? So you can spend the rest of your week at ease, that is." Your eye contact with him breaks, and you can't shake the notion that you're breaking some unspoken, un-agreed-upon contract when you say: "Actually, I'm meeting with a friend, so there's no need." If you were willing to entertain such an insane notion, you would say you notice Sunday's eye twitch. He had never been the kind of man to have unusual tremors or ticks, his hands always guided smoothly along their path. His face still keeps that smile of his, however. The same as he smiles at anyone else, only... colder, somehow. "My mistake," Sunday replies, his face strained. "I'm sure you mustn't keep this... company of yours waiting any longer. You should be on your way as soon as possible." You almost reassure him that Aventurine wouldn't be bothered at all, but you hold your tongue. Sunday walks around your desk to approach you, his hands clasped behind his back. "I'll take my leave as well, then. ...Though, before you go, [Y/N], I have one request." "Yes, sir?" His face grows even more unusually cold. "Cancel all of my meetings for the rest of the day," he states plainly, almost like he's admonishing you. "We'll reschedule them the moment you clock in tomorrow." "Of course, sir." "Thank you, dear. I apologize for the hassle. It seems I have something important to attend to today," he adds, seemingly more for his own sake than your own. "We'll see each other shortly." "Of course, Mr. Sunday. See you tomorrow." Sunday closes the door behind him, leaving you alone to finish sorting your papers before your meeting with Aventurine. --- a/n: hope you guys don't mind the artistic liberties with aven's dialogue lol!!! also, I don't have any intention of making this aven x y/n x sunday, but if there's enough demand i could probably incorporate that lol feedback always appreciated!!! tag list: @j1yu425 @crepezinhos @i-am-tiredd @8x9d

[dewlight-dreamer]

Beautiful! ✨

[duckandsea]

You it's me

[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???

[marspebbles]

kafka doodle + wonday

[elliqty]

These two losers have been stuck in my head for forever (only four hours) and I just started to play Hsr.

[danisdistant]

sunday - protectiveness

»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««

[intro blog] | [taglist] | [masterlist]

he cares about you, deeply. ever since you joined the astral express, he’s paid special attention to you. he would mentally note your hobbies, interests, likes, and dislikes, because he genuinely wants you to be happy.

after all, you’re the kind of person who listens to his stories and rants without judgment. you’ve listened intently, almost as though you understand him as a person. and while you don’t agree with his methods in the past, you’ve expressed support his goal to help humanity.

you’re someone sunday genuinely feels comfortable around, and because of this he wants to protect you and your smile. it’ll be somewhat hard though, not to repeat his actions from the past.

if sunday didn’t know any better, his first instinct would’ve been to cage you. he would try to talk to welt, himeko, and pom-pom to have you stay on the express for safety. but, learning from his mistakes he knows that wouldn’t slide with the nameless at all. even worse, he knew you would be unhappy staying cooped up even in a gilded cage.

instead, sunday tries to travel to the same worlds you travel to. because of the growing size of the trailblaze, himeko and pom-pom agreed to have two separate trips for two parties in different worlds. originally this wasn’t possible, but thanks to the unlimited fuel that was recently acquired, the express is free to travel wherever they wish, and for however long they want.

you didn’t mind sunday’s company at all. in fact, you appreciated the extra company that he gives whenever you explore. in some worlds, you’ve sometimes helped him spread word about harmony, or helped him gather data to further understand humanity and their will.

if you’re dropping by penacony, expect to stay a day or two while you watch sunday reminisce about the past. he would tell you stories about his childhood in the dreamscape, his dreams, and his concerns about what robin may be doing. while he’s not reminiscing about the past, he would try to take you to his favorite locations to see your smile.

if you’re dropping by your home world, sunday would follow you around as you tell him stories, or things that fascinate him about your world. who knew someone as gracefully as you came from somewhere humble? even if you knew the place like the back of your hand, knowing where to go and what to avoid, sunday would still try to protect you and keep an eye on your surroundings. scanning left and right for any suspicious activity, he reminds you of an owl searching for prey.

sunday would often use the harmony to understand people’s intentions, in case they might be individuals that might harm you. he would support you in battle, (offering you massive crit buffs for big pp damage) and cover your weak spots if you’re not able to defend yourself. if you’ve injured yourself, sunday wouldn’t hesitate to take out the med kit and make you rest until you recover. if the injury is bad enough, rest assured he’ll stick by your side until the express arrives.

while you’re not saving worlds, sunday would often make coffee or tea for the two of you to bond, whichever is your preference. this is typically the time where stories are shared, whether from childhood something else.

some of the nameless, such as march 7th or stelle, would sometimes tease you after noticing sunday’s fondness over you, but it was the type of tease you didn’t mind. sunday on the other hand, would try to hide his embarrassment behind his wings, or something more modest like stuffing his face inside his book he always carries around.

but as long as you let him stay by your side, he will always be there to protect you from dangers that lie ahead. if he believes he can protect you and your smile, he should be able to protect humanity and their happiness too.

»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««

sunday headcannons taglist: @khoncore

[dilsonddestroyer]

And why didn't anyone notice that Aventurine is Captain of the Flying Dutchman? Oh, and I really wanted to draw Sunday as an octopus like this (a bit like Ursula from The Little Mermaid).

[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.