#astral express family <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[peonysgreenhouse]

-`♡´- lost signal.

summary: welt finds himself unable to contact you after your departure for amphoreus. (gn!reader x welt yang; astral express found family)

tags: 1.2k words, established relationship, fake texts, astral express family, fluff and longing, spoilers for 3.0's main quest!

“You’re worried.”

Even Himeko’s voice does little to turn his head from the window, watching as the Parlor Car trails off and away through the stars towards Amphoreus. Out of sight, out of Welt’s reach – he was never good at stepping back and letting things be. He has to keep himself from pressing his hand to the glass, from tracing his finger along each and every fleck of light you pass, as if you could somehow feel him there with you.

“Am I that obvious?” Welt asks, adjusting his glasses. He feels Himeko’s dress brush over his shoes, and still he cannot bring himself to tear his gaze away for even a second; even as the car disappears from view as it enters into Amphoreus’s orbit.

“I’m sure everything will go smoothly. You know how capable they all are.” Himeko reassures. 

Welt lets out a weary sigh. Of course knows that. You, Stelle, and Dan Heng made a formidable team. Still, the worry persists, gnawing like moths at an old dressing gown. 

“You are correct.” Welt starts, sighing again as his eyes flick to her momentarily, before looking back out the window. The stillness in the Express is disquieting; it seemed less of a home without all the noise. “But still, I worry anyways.”

Himeko gives him a knowing smile. “I’m sure you’ll hear from them soon.” She says, turning to walk back towards the door. “In the meantime, would you help me make dinner for March? She still isn’t feeling well.”

Welt softens at that, finally forcing himself to look away. He assures himself that you all would be okay, and hopes that is enough. “Of course.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Welt has done the math over and over again. He knows this planet is uncharted, but they knew the distance to the landing site, knew how strong the planet’s gravitational pull was... If things went perfectly, you all should have docked three hours ago. 

You had promised that you’d text him once you successfully made it planet-side. He rests on one of the couches in the main car, one hand resting on his cane, the other holding his phone. 

Perhaps he’s acting like a besotted old man… and a hovering parent to Stelle and Dan Heng. But still, he finds his hands itching to type out a message to check in. And so, he does:

He tries to rationalize the response (or, lack thereof) before the tide of worry can wash over him once again. It wouldn’t be surprising if it were just Stelle’s phone that had no connection – but you and Dan Heng? Neither of you would let that happen, especially at the beginning of an Expedition.

Perhaps signal didn’t reach Amphoreus. It would be the most logical answer – it was out of sight to all but the Memokeepers. Besides that, he can't help but think it's possible that you all could’ve crash landed...

Welt stands, and goes to wake Sunday.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You lean out the balcony of the private baths, your hand stretching upwards to the sky, phone in hand, as if you could reach up far enough to hand the messages to Welt. 

“That’s not how it works.” Dan Heng says, one hand behind his head as he relaxes in one of the lounge chairs. He’s watching you out of the corner of his eye, a quarter of his attention diverted from his book to make sure you don’t lose your balance and fall.

You hate that he’s right. This is all an exercise in futility, but still, it doesn't hurt to try. You hop up on the railing, carefully sitting yourself on the ledge of the balcony, stretching just a few more inches forward. Dan Heng pays a bit more attention to you.

“Dan Heng’s right.” Stelle interjects, her long silvery hair gliding on the surface of the water in the bath, sprawled out as if she had not a care in the world. “You need much longer arms.”

You huff, looking at the ‘No Signal’ message that hasn’t budged from the top of your phone’s screen since you crash landed in Amphoreus. You wish there was something you could do to reassure Welt that you would all be okay.

You imagine he’ll have a few more grey hairs when you see him next.

“You should get down from there.” Comes Dan Heng’s voice, closing the book he was skimming through. “I would prefer not to have to tell Mr. Yang that you fell to your death.”

You hear Stelle snicker, and it’s then you hop down off the railing, realizing you are supposed to be the mature one here. You turn your phone off, then go to sit on one of the empty lounge chairs, listening to the water flow as it pours into the bath. 

Welt would like it here, you think. After everything he’s done for you, for you all, he deserves a nice, warm bath. Perhaps once you've restored contact with the Express, you could convince him to relax, if for a little while.

You let that thought carry you into a fitful sleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

In your absence, Welt spends the days with Sunday, exhausting their combined contacts to try and regain communication with you all. Each day seems to drag on, and yet he never finds enough hours to do all that he needs to do to ensure your safety. 

He should’ve just joined the Expedition… Welt hated, more than anything, not knowing; questions with too many variables to act on all at once. Especially when it involved those he cared about. 

Some of your things had been left in his room; he doesn’t have the heart to move them. A half-empty cup of tea that had long gone cold, the shape of your lips outlined in chapstick around the rim. The hotel key from your room in Penacony, sandwiched between one of his books you were borrowing; a makeshift bookmark that would no doubt end up damaging the binding. A picture of you, him, and Himeko taken in the jazz bar at the Reverie. Your hand is slung around their shoulders, and you’re winking at the camera, only slightly tipsy. The memory makes him warm with longing.

He sends another few texts your way, knowing they will not reach you. Still, it is nice to think of what he might say to you if he could.

At night, he sits in March’s room, watching to make sure her condition doesn’t worsen. The cold of the six-phased ice bites even through his overcoat.

Welt folds his hands in his lap, closing his eyes for a momentary rest. Come tomorrow they would go to the Space Station to search for answers; but for now, he would be present for March. It was all he could do.

[falling-star-cygnus]

art request! astral express gang being cute and wholesome :)

it took me a hot second to think of something for this bc my M.O is usually tragedy but I GOT IT -> I GOT YOU @chibiisanii

HC for the road: Himeko taught Dan Heng how to braid hair when he came aboard the Express, Dan Heng taught March, and March taught the Trailblazer -> so now, they all have nights where they braid each other's hair. It does not matter if they don't have enough hair for it, they will find a way. Boothill is forced into the circle even if he's only a 'temporary member' [read: he was very excited to join the braid train] and so is Argenti

[praiseofhighmorals]

Love that depending on when you started playing the trailblazer has been sleeping in a cardboard box for up to a year and a half out of convenience and procrastination. Bro is not beating the raccoon allegations

[elyasx]

First time meeting the Astral Express

I just love Joey and Welt so much! I wish there would be a fanfic like this where The Astral express gets to meet Joey <3

Like Imagine:

Himeko would be all motherly and sweet with Joyce, waiting for him to make sure he is comfortable talking to her and not pressing him or anything

March would be super excited and happy because there is a new member to the family! She would probably be a bit pressuring him to like talk and such but she would make him happy and giggling everytime

Dan Heng would probably be a softie and he would probably scare Joey away at first. After seeing his dragon form Joey would probably be his new best friend.

The Trailblazer would probably make Joey laugh all day bc of stupid jokes or some stupid action they did, they would probably be a bad influence

[baeshijima]

the end cutscene for the decor event.... im not crying.... im not....

[rouecentric]

Sorry, I accidentally unfollowed you, but also

what's 5Q + 5Q ???

..10q?

[ariichive]

WHITE DAY ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱

celebrating white day with the man who’ll do anything for you <3

cw: gen. neutral reader, fluff, established relationship, moze is a bit weird, sliiiight possessiveness, astral express sunday, kissing, lmk if i missed anything :)

boothill, aventurine, jing yuan, mydei, anaxa, sunday, moze, and phainon ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

boothill ᯓᡣ𐭩

you giggled as boothill led you through the empty, infamous clock studios theme park. "this can't be allowed," you whisper-shouted at him, who had a ginormous grin.

boothill, however, only flashed you that devil-may-care grin of his, tipping his hat back as he casually strolled forward, seemingly not bothered by the rules—or the late hour. “aw, darlin',” he drawled, looking over his shoulder at you, “ain’t no harm in a lil’ late-night stroll. the park’s still runnin’. they got their folks takin' care of the rides, but they ain't watchin' every corner.”

you shot him a disbelieving look, glancing around at the still-bustling park—there were still families and groups laughing, enjoying the remaining hours. but with how boothill had his hand around yours, there was no turning back.

“boothill, there’s security everywhere. we’re gonna get caught.”

“nah,” he said, a wink thrown your way as he led you further into the park. “what makes you think they can catch us? you just gotta know where to go and when to disappear.”

“and you know where to go?” you said, trying to sound incredulous, but you couldn’t hide the excitement rising in your chest.

“oh, darlin’, i’ve been around these parts enough to know where the real fun happens after hours. all the good stuff happens behind the scenes,” he said, eyes gleaming with mischief. “we’re just gonna skip the line and see the real show.”

it was a known fact boothill was a wanted man; ipc and other factions wanted his head.

you laughed, shaking your head. “you’re absolutely insane. this is—”

“fun?” he finished for you, smirking as he pulled you toward one of the smaller, quieter corners of the park, away from the main attractions. “that’s exactly what it is. don’t let the suits and tie-wearin’ folks fool you, sugar. there’s always something hidden behind the curtain.”

you followed as he led you down a narrow, slightly hidden path between the many gift shops and food stands. there were fewer people here, and the sounds of the park seemed a little more distant. a quiet buzz lingered in the air, one that made your heart race with anticipation.

“what are you planning?” you asked, your voice low now, the playful tone taking on a hint of curiosity.

“i’ve got some connections ‘round here. places they don’t show the public. places you might not expect.” boothill's grin was unrelenting, his eyes scanning the area, like he was constantly on the lookout, always one step ahead.

you furrowed your brow. “so we’re sneaking into some secret area where nobody goes?”

“exactly,” he said, his voice dropping to a quieter, more dangerous tone. “and you’re gonna love it. it’s the part of clock studios they never show—the real behind-the-scenes stuff. think of it as a treasure hunt, sugar.”

you swallowed hard, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline you got whenever boothill pulled you into one of his schemes. “and what’s the treasure?”

boothill sent you a smile, one that was more gentle than the previous ones. "you just gotta see for yourself. just a lil' somethin' to show you how much i enjoy spendin' time with ya.”

you raised an eyebrow. "oh really? and what makes you think i want a date in the middle of clock studios at this hour?"

boothill grinned wider, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "because i know ya, darlin'. you got a wild streak in ya. and i can tell you like a bit of adventure—so i figured we'd skip all the usual fancy stuff and give ya a night you'll never forget."

you snorted softly at his confidence. “well, i’m curious, i’ll give you that.”

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he led you down the winding path, eventually reaching a large, circular room lit by soft lanterns hanging from the ceiling. as the door closed behind you with a soft click, you took in the scene before you.

there, in the middle of the room, was a cozy little table set for two. delicate white candles flickered on the table, their soft glow casting dancing shadows across the walls. the table was covered with a cloth, and on it, there were plates of food, wine glasses, and a single rose in the center.

your breath caught in your throat. “boothill... is this...?”

“yep,” he interrupted, chuckling. “a lil' somethin’ special just for you. dinner in the heart of clock studios.” he motioned for you to sit down. “now, don’t be shy. i reckon you’ll like it here. no crowds, no distractions, just you, me, and some damn fine food.”

you shook your head, still trying to wrap your mind around the situation. “this is... unbelievable. you really planned all this, didn’t you?”

“sure did,” he said, pulling out the chair for you like a gentleman. his usual rough demeanor was softened by the genuine care in his eyes. 

you squeezed his hand, your heart beating a little faster as you looked into his eyes. "this... this is perfect, boothill. thank you."

“anything for you, sugar,” he replied, his smile softening as he poured the wine. “anything for you.”

aventurine ᯓᡣ𐭩

"w-what the—"

when you woke up, you were met with an eerie sight. two beady eyes stared back at you from the foot of your bed, gleaming in the dim light. your breath caught in your throat as you turned to the side, only to be greeted by another pair of eyes—this time from the nightstand.

you froze, unsure whether you were still caught in a strange dream or not.

then, hurried footsteps approached, the blinds were thrown open, and bright daylight poured into the room, revealing the full scope of the situation.

the room was filled with them—hundreds of teddy bears. stuffed animals of all sizes, arranged in perfect rows, surrounding your bed. their stitched eyes all seemed to glisten with an unsettling lifelike quality, staring at you from every angle.

“a-am i still dreaming?” you whispered, unsure whether you could still trust your senses.

you shut your eyes tightly, squeezing them shut in a vain attempt to block out the madness. but when you opened them again, the bears were still there, their beady eyes gleaming.

before you could say anything else, a voice that was too calm for the situation echoed through the room.

"not exactly the reaction i was going for. how unfortunate."

you snapped your head toward the window, finding the source of the voice: your lover, aventurine. he stood there, leaning against the window frame with his arms crossed, a slight smirk tugging at his lips as he observed your shock.

you exhaled a breath of relief—at least he wasn’t part of the teddy bear invasion. his gaze, filled with gentle amusement, was the only familiar thing in the room that grounded you in reality.

“aventurine...” you trailed off, still trying to process what was happening.

“yes, yes, i know.” he straightened up, stepping into the room, his voice smooth as always. “you were probably expecting something a bit more romantic, were you not? perhaps a flower delivery or a candlelit dinner?” he gave a dramatic sigh. “but no, instead, you get this."

his arms gestured around the room, and you couldn’t help but blink at the absurdity of it all.

“what... what is all this?” you asked, your voice wavering with confusion.

"well, my dear, some would see it as a heartwarming gift from their lover. but, i bet you see it as more of a... heart attack."

"i wanted to do something memorable." he looked down at the stuffed animals thoughtfully before letting out a soft laugh. “i suppose, after all the chaos, the gesture doesn’t quite come across as I intended.”

you took in the various different bears, realizing how cute most of them were. you smiled softly, knowing he had good intentions. "it's cute, that one has the same glasses as you." you pointed to one perched on a high shelf.

"ah, not the same glasses, i'm sure those didn't even cost half as much as mine," he flaunted confidently, "but yes, quite similar."

you rolled your eyes affectionately but couldn't hide the smile on your face as you looked at him. “you’re unbelievable.”

“ah, but you love me for it, don’t you?” he teased, his voice warm as he leaned in closer.

you couldn't help but laugh softly, reaching up to gently cup his cheek. "i do, more than you'll ever know."

his expression softened, and for a moment, the ridiculousness of the situation melted away, leaving just the two of you—surrounded by stuffed animals, but wrapped in a moment of shared warmth.

"well, then," aventurine said, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his hand lingering on your cheek. "i’d say this surprise was a success after all."

"for you, maybe." you smiled, leaning in to kiss him. "but next time, let’s go for something less... beady."

he laughed, pulling you closer, his arms wrapping around you as he kissed your forehead. "i’ll take that into consideration, love."

jing yuan ᯓᡣ𐭩

it was normal for you to wake up before jing yuan. often, the man would cling to you and mutter 'five more minutes' before falling back asleep for another hour, giving you enough time to get ready and out the door before he wakes. his warmth was always a comfort, his breath soft and steady against your skin. you could feel his arms tighten around you in his sleepy, possessive way, a silent plea for you to stay in bed with him.

this morning, however, something felt a bit different. his usual murmurs didn’t come, and when you turned your head to look at him, you noticed that jing yuan was already awake, his amber eyes watching you intently.

“you’re up early,” you murmured, your voice still thick with sleep.

he gave you that half-smile of his, the one that always made your heart flutter. "couldn't sleep," he said, his tone low and a little too smooth.

"really? that's kinda hard to believe," you said jokingly as his hand found comfort at the top of your head, stroking you gently.

“you know i always get up first,” you said softly, glancing at the clock.

“yes,” he replied with a lazy grin, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes—something that made your chest tighten. “but i was enjoying the rare moment when you’re still here with me."

you smiled, though a part of you couldn’t help but notice how tightly he was holding onto the bed sheet, how his hands lingered on you just a little longer than usual.

"how about we get up together?" you suggested, teasing him with a gentle nudge.

he sighed dramatically, but then his hands pulled you back toward him, his body pressing against yours with a sense of finality. "i don't want to," he murmured, his voice almost childlike. "you're all i need right here."

his words sent a flutter through your heart, and you couldn’t help but melt into his embrace.

"do you wish to help me tend to my garden today?" he said gently, continuing to caress you. he was on the brink of falling back asleep.

you hummed softly, feeling the warmth of his touch, the tender way his fingers ran over your skin. the thought of spending the day with him, surrounded by the scent of fresh flowers and the quiet peace of the garden, sounded perfect.

"i would love to," you replied quietly, your eyes closing as you leaned further into him, letting yourself feel his presence. "but only if you promise not to drag me out there too late."

jing yuan chuckled, the sound low and soothing. "i’ll make sure we take it slow, just like now. no rushing." his hand slid to your back, pulling you closer, his lips brushing against the top of your head. "we’ll spend the whole day there if you want. just the two of us."

you smiled, a sense of calm settling over you at his words. it was always the simple moments with him that made you feel the most at ease, and the thought of being by his side while surrounded by the beauty of nature felt almost too perfect to be real.

"you make it sound so perfect," you murmured, resting your cheek against his chest. "i think i could get used to this."

"good," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. "because i’m not letting you go anywhere today." he tightened his hold on you, but it wasn’t suffocating—it was comforting, a reassurance that you were his, and he was yours.

"i’m not going anywhere," you whispered back, feeling your heart beat in sync with his. "not when you make staying so easy."

he gave a content sigh, his lips pressing gently to your head. "i promise [name], you'll forever live easy with me by your side."

moze ᯓᡣ𐭩

moze dragged you into another dark alleyway, hand over your mouth. he brought his lips close to your ear, "i walked by them thirty-eight days ago around this time." he whispered gently as he glared at the couple the two of you were watching.

"this is my third time following them since, and not once has the man noticed," he tsked in disapproval.

you bit his hand gently, causing him to let go of the hold he had on your mouth. "so... why drag me into this?"

"do you not find joy in following around such ignorant people?"

you thought about his question for a second, truly thinking it over. well, it would probably be entertaining.

you decided to let him have his fun for the day. besides, this was practically a date.

"a filthy man like him does not have what it takes to be in a relationship." he continued to mutter more to himself, a dark shadow casting over his face.

you glanced at him, feeling a shiver of both unease and excitement crawl up your spine. there was something magnetic about moze, his dark intensity and sharp observations always keeping you on edge, but also pulling you in. you couldn't deny the thrill of being part of whatever strange little world he inhabited.

"you really hate him, don't you?" you asked, your voice low, trying to keep your amusement from showing too much.

moze didn't respond right away, his eyes never leaving the couple as they walked past the alley. he seemed to be weighing his words carefully. finally, he let out a quiet, almost inaudible sigh. "it’s not hate," he said slowly. "it’s... disappointment."

you raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "disappointment?"

"yes," he muttered. "people like him don't understand the weight of commitment. they wear their affection like a mask, pretending to care, when they don't even know what it means to truly invest in another person." his voice dropped to a near growl. "they’re fools. dirty fools.”

you tilted your head, studying his profile. there was a certain calm, almost cold certainty in his words, and you couldn't help but feel drawn to him in a way that made your heart race.

"and what about you, moze?" you asked, your voice teasing. "do you know what it means to truly invest in someone?"

he turned his gaze to you, his eyes sharp and calculating. for a moment, he didn’t speak, just studying you with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat.

"i followed you for over a month before our first interaction. during that time, i learned all your favorite foods, hobbies, and even your favorite book."

he ended your question at that.

"you... actually, i'm not that surprised."

moze didn’t smile. his expression remained unreadable, though there was a quiet satisfaction in his eyes as he watched your reaction.

"i told you," he continued, his voice low and steady, "i invest in the details. when something interests me, i pay attention." he stepped a little closer, his presence filling the space between you. "and you, [name], have intrigued me from the moment i laid eyes on you."

"oddly enough, you're such a romantic in your own, moze way."

he hummed in approval, gently taking your hand in his. "if you prefer, we could find a different activity. i simply wanted to spend time with you on an excursion that wasn't dangerous."

"we could go for a walk," he continued, his tone thoughtful. "a peaceful one. no hiding, no stalking, just... time spent together." his words held an edge of something deeper, as if the suggestion itself was a rare offering from him.

you were taken aback. moze, the man who had watched you from the shadows, who seemed to find thrill in the darker aspects of life, was now offering something simple, almost mundane. it was a side of him you hadn't seen before, and it made you wonder what else lay hidden beneath his carefully crafted exterior.

you hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "alright," you said, voice soft but steady. "let’s see how that goes."

moze gave a small, approving smile, the flicker of warmth in his eyes making you feel like you were the only person in the world. "good," he said, his voice carrying a note of satisfaction. "then let’s enjoy the day."

mydei ᯓᡣ𐭩

"this one's really good," you said as mydei fed another home made pastry to you. he hummed, deep in thought as he took mental note of all the flavors you seemed to like thus far.

"figured you would like the freshness of the strawberry and sweetness of the chocolate." he held another chocolate covered strawberry up to your mouth, which you ate without hesitation.

you smiled at him, feeling the sweetness linger on your tongue. "you know me too well," you said with a playful grin, leaning back slightly as you rested against the plush cushions. "but seriously, these are amazing. when did you even have time to make all of this?"

mydei chuckled softly, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "i make time for things that matter," he replied, his voice low and warm. he was always like this—calm, thoughtful, and careful with you. "besides, watching you enjoy it is worth every second."

you raised an eyebrow, your heart fluttering a bit. "you're so sweet," you said, though you weren't sure if you meant the pastry or him.

"i try," he said with a teasing smirk before reaching for another treat, "but if i'm honest, i think you’re the one who's sweet. i just… enhance it."

his words made a gentle warmth spread through you, and you found yourself leaning closer to him, almost instinctively. "enhance it?" you repeated with a small laugh. "that’s one way to put it."

"well, i’m not one to leave things half done." he smiled, his gaze flickering to your lips for just a moment before returning to your eyes. "and you, my [name], deserve more than half of anything."

"you're spoiling me," you said with a soft laugh, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips. "but i don’t mind."

mydei’s eyes softened, a gentle smile curling at the corners of his mouth. "i’m happy to spoil you, [name]," he said quietly, his voice low, almost like a secret shared between the two of you. "you deserve it."

"who would've thought the prince of kremnos was such a sweetheart?" this time, it was your turn to take a sweet delicacy and being it up to his mouth.

mydei raised an amused brow at your gesture but didn’t hesitate to accept the treat, lips brushing ever so slightly against your fingertips as he took a bite. his golden eyes flickered with something unreadable, something almost dangerous, as he chewed slowly, savoring both the taste of the pastry and the moment between you.

"only for you," he murmured after swallowing, voice dipped in something almost intoxicating. "i don’t make a habit of spoiling just anyone."

you felt a warmth crawl up your neck, but you held your ground, refusing to let him fluster you so easily. "oh? so i should consider myself lucky then?" you teased, though there was a genuine curiosity beneath your playful words.

mydei chuckled, low and rich, resting his chin in his palm as he studied you. "very lucky," he answered, his gaze never wavering. "because once i decide someone is mine, i don’t let go."

phainon ᯓᡣ𐭩

phainon had been gone for a few days, his whereabouts unknown to you. it was extremely worrying, especially since he stopped answering his teleslate.

as the days passed, you found yourself staring out the window, lost in thought. the only thing that kept you going was the belief that he would return, that he had a reason for being gone, no matter how hard it was to wait.

then, one evening, as the sky burned in hues of blue, a soft knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. you froze. for a moment, you thought you had imagined it. but then, there it was again—a gentle, familiar rhythm.

your heart pounded as you hurried to the door, your hands shaking slightly as you reached for the handle. when you pulled it open, your breath hitched.

phainon stood there, his clothes dusted with travel, silver strands of his hair catching the evening light. despite the exhaustion lining his features, there was a soft smile playing at his lips, his eyes warm as they met yours

“you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he teased, though there was a gentleness in his voice.

“you—” your voice caught, a mix of relief and frustration bubbling up. “where have you been?! do you have any idea how worried i—”

before you could finish, he lifted his hand, revealing a small, elegantly wrapped box. “i know, i know. and i’m sorry,” he murmured. “but i had to find this.”

your frustration faltered as your eyes fell on the box. carefully, you took it from him, untying the ribbon with hesitant fingers. as the lid lifted, a soft gasp escaped your lips.

nestled inside was a necklace unlike anything you had ever seen. its chain was delicate, shimmering like bright stardust, and the pendant—a gemstone that seemed to shift colors under the fading sunlight, like the twilight sky itself trapped in crystal. it was breathtaking. if you had to guess, he had found the luxurious gem and then had it made into a necklace.

“phainon…” your voice was barely above a whisper.

"it's a necklace from aedes elysiae, well... what's left of it." he mumbled the last part more to himself.

a once glorious civilization, a place that most believed never existed, spoken of only in half-whispered legends, it was a remnant of beauty and tragedy.

you looked back at him, eyes wide. "you went... back there?"

phainon gave a small shrug, but there was something distant in his gaze. “i had to.” his fingers brushed over the lid of the box before retreating. “the place was beyond repairable, not a single structure in sight. but even in its ruins, i knew there had to be something... anything left worth saving.”

your fingers curled around the necklace, feeling the cool weight of it against your palm. "but why go so far? why risk it?"

he let out a quiet breath, gaze flickering away for a moment before settling back on you. “because i wanted something as rare as you. something that carried the weight of history, of stories untold. something that—” he hesitated, his voice dropping lower, “—would remind you of me, even when i’m not around.”

your chest tightened, a rush of warmth blooming in your heart.

carefully, he reached forward, taking the necklace from your hands and stepping closer. his fingers brushed against your skin as he clasped it around your neck, his touch lingering just a second longer than necessary.

"it suits you," he murmured.

your fingers ghosted over the pendant, the weight of it somehow comforting. "you really..." you started, unsure of what to say. there was so much—gratitude, relief, something deeper you couldn’t quite name.

he smiled, a small, knowing curve of his lips. “no need for words.”

but even so, as the evening light cast long shadows around you both, you knew that this moment—this gift, this feeling—would stay with you forever.

anaxa ᯓᡣ𐭩

anaxa was never one to partake in festivities that landed on the calendar. that, however, changed when he started dating you. it was almost irritating how mushy you made him feel.

which he made it known, never one to shy away from his feelings of devotion to you.

"these flowers were grown by me by hand. it seems it was useless to try to create something that matches your beauty."

your fingers curled around the stems of the flowers, holding them close to your chest as you let the warmth of his words settle in. anaxa was never one for grand displays of affection, but the way he showed his devotion—subtle, unwavering, and entirely sincere—always left you feeling breathless.

"you act like you’re forced to say these things," you teased, looking up at him with a playful glint in your eyes. "but i think you secretly enjoy being this romantic."

he scoffed, his expression remaining unreadable, but the way his fingers twitched at his sides betrayed him. "enjoy is a strong word," he muttered. "i simply refuse to be inadequate when it comes to you."

you chuckled, shaking your head as you reached out, looping your arms around his neck. "you’re terrible at hiding how much you love me, you know that?"

anaxa let out a small sigh, his hands settling at your waist, pulling you in until there was barely any space left between you. "if you already know, then i see no reason to deny it," he admitted, his voice quieter this time, almost as if the words were meant for you and you alone.

he leaned in, his forehead gently resting against yours. "besides, if it makes you happy, then i don’t mind indulging in a little sentimentality."

your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile. "just a little?"

he exhaled, shaking his head. "fine. a lot," he conceded, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple.

you held onto him a little tighter, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingers. "then i guess i’ll just have to make sure you keep indulging me," you whispered against his skin.

anaxa hummed, tilting your chin up with a single finger before capturing your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss. "you never had to ask."

you pulled away with a smile, remembering the flowers in your hand. "say, i never took you much as the gardening type."

"you humor me, gardening is an essential part of science and understanding the reality of this world. it would be foolish of me to be clueless."

you chuckled, twirling one of the blossoms between your fingers. "of course, trust you to turn something as simple as flowers into a lecture."

anaxa scoffed, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. "if you listened more closely, you'd see there's value in my words." he reached out, plucking the flower from your grasp and tucking it carefully behind your ear. "besides, these were grown with a purpose. for you."

your teasing smile softened at his words, fingers brushing over the delicate petals. "so, you really did all this just for me?"

"obviously," he replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"you’re so—" you started, but he cut you off, tilting your chin up so your eyes met his.

"so what?" he asked, voice low, gaze intense.

you swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of the warmth of his fingers against your skin. "so… good to me."

a rare, almost smug smile graced his lips. "i would hope so," he murmured, leaning in just enough for his breath to tickle your lips. "it would be unacceptable otherwise."

sunday ᯓᡣ𐭩

it wasn't known to most how much of a sweet tooth sunday truly had. when he was still known as the head of the oak family, he never had time to induldge in sweet treats.

on the astral express, however, was a different story.

the party car had something special, something amazing.

"shush" was its name.

sunday had quickly discovered that the little automaton, despite its strange way of speaking, was an invaluable source of sweets. and the best part? you would often come by to enjoy a treat with him.

"another?" "shush" asked in its usual monotone, holding up a plate of intricately decorated pastries. "you have already consumed three. should i prepare an intervention?"

sunday smirked, reaching for a sugar-dusted tart. "should i prepare an intervention for your terrible sense of humor?"

"shush" whirred, as if contemplating its response. "humor analysis... failed. please consume more snacks to compensate."

he chuckled, sinking into one of the plush seats as he took a bite. the caramel filling was rich, the crust perfectly flaky. he exhaled through his nose, savoring the taste.

“so this is where you’ve been hiding.”

before sunday could speak, "shush" did for him. "sunday is a frequent patron. valued customer. concerning sugar intake."

sunday sighed, setting his pastry down with a faint shake of his head. "i do believe i liked you better when you weren’t so talkative." sunday turned his attention back to you. "come, sit with me [name]."

you wasted no time to take a seat next to him.

"i trust you’re not here simply to watch me indulge," he mused, reaching once more for his half-finished pastry. "if so, i must insist you partake as well. it would be unfair otherwise."

“how could i deny such an offer?”

you picked up a small, delicately frosted cake from the tray between you, twirling it between your fingers before taking a tentative bite. it was light, airy, dissolving sweetly on your tongue. sunday watched your reaction carefully, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

"good, isn’t it?"

you nodded, swallowing before answering. "i suppose i can see why you keep coming back here."

sunday hummed in quiet amusement, taking another slow sip of his tea. "there is something rather charming about the simplicity of it all, isn’t there?" he mused, almost to himself. "a moment of quiet, a pleasant treat... a rarity, once upon a time."

his voice carried something wistful, something almost unspoken. you wondered if he realized how much his words revealed.

"then you should enjoy it as much as you can now," you said softly. "you deserve that much, don’t you?"

sunday looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. then, slowly, he smiled—just a small, quiet curve of his lips, but warm all the same.

"perhaps," he murmured, fingers grazing the edge of the teacup. "and if that is the case… would you care to indulge with me a little longer?"

there was something about the way he said it, so effortlessly graceful, yet sincere. an invitation not just to share another dessert, but to share this moment, fleeting as it was.

and as you reached for another pastry, you decided—perhaps you would stay a little longer after all.

[starcurtain]

2.1 Penacony Spoilers!

I know the scene after Ratio's "betrayal" can be read a lot of ways but I am shocked I haven't seen more people interpret it as Ratio being so worried about Aventurine that he couldn't stay away even though he was supposed to.

We know:

1) Ratio absolutely knew Aventurine's plan from start to finish, both his gamble to create "death" in the dream and with the three cornerstones. (Wish people would stop underselling Ratio in their analyses; "Three chips are enough" is a direct enough clue that, genius as he is, Ratio would never miss.)

2) In his own words, Ratio was acting according to Aventurine's instructions while in Dewlight Pavilion and with Sunday and felt that he did a good job not giving them away.

I think most people are on the same page up to there, but then I've seen a lot of people interpreting this scene after Aventurine leaves Sunday's mansion as Aventurine being genuinely angry at Ratio (possibly after having gaslit himself into thinking Ratio was actually betraying him).

But this doesn't make much sense to me because:

1) Ratio actually has nothing to gain by selling Aventurine out to Sunday. They're on the same side in this mission. Information about a Stelleron on Penacony wouldn't be news anyone with a brain like Ratio's and why would he need someone else's research on Stellerons when he already has ties to the Genius Society through Screwllum and Herta, as well as the Astral Express where the Trailblazer is actively housing a Stelleron?

2) One of Aventurine's most notable lines of dialogue is how it's perfectly fine and expected for "friends" to use each other and backstab. This is his default understanding of partners--why would he suddenly be mad about something he expected from the start?

3) If the betrayal wasn't already planned and was just a possibility based on Aventurine's understanding of Ratio, why would he ever have revealed there were "three chips" (aka three cornerstones) in play? If even the betrayal over Topaz's stone wasn't planned, just assumed, why would Aventurine reveal the existence of the third stone? He would gain nothing from doing so.

Instead, I think it makes a lot more sense to interpret Aventurine's frustration with Ratio in this later scene as annoyance over Ratio taking an "unnecessary" risk:

1) As far as Sunday knows, Ratio had just very seriously betrayed Aventurine, completely selling him out and essentially sending him to his execution.

2) In the scene afterward, Aventurine is out in public in the middle of Penacony where The Family's eyes are always watching, yet Ratio walks right up to him to check on him. Why would someone who just sold you out come up to you immediately afterward to check on your health?!

3) It's only natural that Aventurine would pump the brakes and go "Wow, didn't think you'd show yourself after you just betrayed me, remember?" Because that's the act they are supposed to be keeping up! They're still being monitored; it's not safe to break character!

But Ratio is a genius, right, so why would he break character here? From the standpoint of the ploy itself, revealing to the Family that he and Aventurine were still on the same side would only jeopardize the plan, not help it.

The logical explanation, then, is that Ratio went to Aventurine here because he felt like he had to.

He had to check in and make sure the situation was still under Aventurine's control.

(In fact, the entire exchange through the middle of this scene is Aventurine and Ratio confirming the rest of their plot in a veiled manner: Ratio brings up the plan and mentions what's concealed in the gift money bag, Aventurine confirms the cornerstone is good to go; Ratio asks what his next step will be; Aventurine says he's going to do the insane thing of handing out cash while looking pathetic [aka fishing for Sparkle]. Ratio essentially asks if he's crazy enough to take the final gamble with his own life, which Aventurine confirms, and then Ratio sets them up for the finale by gifting him the doctor's note.)

Ratio was willing to risk ruining their entire plan--something Aventurine does seem to be frustrated about at first--just to ensure Aventurine still felt all right about the situation.

He needed to deliver his note demanding Aventurine stay alive.

He needed to tell Aventurine to come to him if the situation got too painful to bear.

In short, Ratio was worried enough that he could not stay away even though, for the sake of their plot, it would have made significantly more sense for him not to appear. The gain of breaking character was worth more to him than the risk of being caught.

You honestly don't even have to take this in a shipping context. The real point here is that Ratio is an incredibly good person who wasn't okay with Aventurine's self-sacrificial plan and who felt morally compelled to check on a person in pain. He's a healer through and through, and ignoring Aventurine in this condition--ignoring someone who was taking so much risk on themselves--simply wasn't possible for him, no matter the danger it posed to the plan.

But for those who do ship Ratio and Aventurine... I hope more people will come to see this scene as another example of Ratio's genuine concern for his mission partner! He did not have to appear here at all; it would have made much more sense for him to leave Aventurine to his own devices to uphold the illusion of their "betrayal." He showed up in this scene--very likely against Aventurine's expectations--because he was concerned for Aventurine's situation and wanted to ensure Aventurine knew he could fall back on Ratio's support at any time if the plan went awry.

tl;dr: I wish people would stop interpreting this scene as the aftermath of a betrayal. Aventurine wasn't ticked off with Ratio in this scene because he felt like he'd genuinely been backstabbed; he was ticked off because Ratio was literally breaking their pre-established "betrayer" character just to be fussy over Aventurine's safety and well-being. (Okay, and to double check on the plan, but let's be real, the first part was definitely more important. 👌)

[brynn-lear]

WHODRANKIT [H:SR Yandere Otome Game] Demo 1.1

!!! INCLUDES AVENTURINE AND SUNDAY ROUTE CHAPTER 1 !!!

✧ content warnings/tags: yandere themes, mentions of racial/"species" discrimination (your character is SEA/Filipino-coded), slight visual blood, cult-like behavior, gender neutral player (uses they/them), the story takes place in a modern hybrid alternate universe where each planet (Belobog, Penacony, etc) is considered a country.

PLAY THE DEMO HERE (available for download on PC, Mac, android, AND online play on any devices for free.)

Please consider donating to my kofi here! I can't afford college at the moment due to financial problems and I'd appreciate any donation to continue my studies 🙏🙏🙏. I'd also appreciate feedback through asks and other mediums such as gameplay and post reviews! It would be fun to read your theories ^^

You (name changeable) are a hardworking and full-pledged human cafe owner in Penacony City. Your Dreamjolt Cafe has been a go-to for residents and tourists alike. But your loved ones' lives took a sharp turn for the worst when you decided to take a much-needed vacation back to your homeland, Perlas. While your family eagerly awaited your arrival, you disappeared en route. Where did you go? How did this happen? Who did this? Was it...

☕ the prickly yet fascinating Prof. Veritas Ratio, your self-proclaimed avian-hybrid regular that loves to nag you?

☕Kakavasha, your longest fellow human friend who always seems to have a secret or two?

☕ Gallagher, your hound-hybrid roommate whose past is as peculiar as his loyalty?

☕ that jerk Sunday, who seem insistent on becoming your ally despite his intrusive and controlling actions?

☕ or maybe Argenti, the new friend you made who has some obsession over capturing beauty across the universe?

... so: WHODRANKIT?

WHAT'S AVAILABLE IN VERSION 1.1?

The full version of the Common Route, therefore including a finalized version of the route splits. [Sunday's Route is accessible by agreeing to his terms.]

1 Bad Ending for both Aventurine and Sunday

New CGs and additional characters [aka we finally get Robin]

Just. Pain.

CREDITS

SOURCE FOR CHARACTERS, UI, ASSETS: Hoyoverse. Sourced from the-astral-express-archive

BACKGROUND IMAGES: Pexels, Unsplashed, and tumblr users leftdestiny-posts​ and mixed-kester

CODE CREDITS:

PHONE SCREEN ASSETS AND CODE Elckarow​ (these are so useful huhu)

CODE FOR FUN TEXT EFFECTS SoDaRa

MUSIC CREDITS:

Every Day Every Day (Night) Version I Love  I Love (you) naraven​ on tumblr

Cooking by Alex-Productions https://onsound.eu/ Music promoted by https://www.chosic.com/free-music/all/ Creative Commons CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

Colorful Flowers by Tokyo Music Walker https://soundcloud.com/user-356546060 Music promoted by https://www.chosic.com/free-music/all/ Creative Commons CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

The Calling Exzel Music Publishing (freemusicpublicdomain.com) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

The Nymphaeum Part III Exzel Music Publishing (freemusicpublicdomain.com) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

Missing You by Purrple Cat https://purrplecat.com/ Music promoted by https://www.chosic.com/free-music/all/ Creative Commons CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/

The Cannery by Kevin MacLeod https://incompetech.com/ Music promoted by https://www.chosic.com/free-music/all/ Creative Commons CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

Mellow Cafe Vibe John Bartmann Music: https://www.chosic.com/free-music/all/

I'd like to give an extra shout out to @a-dose-of-phitre, @estellxli, @naraven, and @harmonysanreads for being part of the brainstorming crew for this game. Ya'll are real Gs <3

[solitaireships]

It is, thank you!

she... oh I love women :')

[ceruark]

still here

[yan! sunday x gn! reader] synopsis: you’ve been waiting for the day you’d finally be free from your captor. but fate has other plans, as you keep reliving the moment of his departure. words: 5,320 cw: yandere themes: mentions of previous manipulation, abduction, obsessive & possessive behavior; implied alcoholism, brief mention of murder/stabbing a/n: i’ve had this on backlog for MONTHS i’m so glad it’s finally done. i hope it’s okay and u guys like it <3

It’s true what they say about there being light at the end of a dark, seemingly endless tunnel; when the Astral Express finally departs, it does so in a blaze, washing the dock by The Reverie in a brilliant glow and momentarily blinding you. Once your vision clears up, it’s nothing but a star shooting across the vast sky, leaving behind a warmth that lifts the weight of the world off your shoulders.

At least, that’s how it felt the first time.

You’re not sure how many times you’ve seen it leave, at this point— you lost count a while ago. There were a few times you decided to not even show up at the dock, to see if it changed anything, but to your dismay, you woke up in your apartment in Golden Hour every single time, your alarm clock blaring at seven in the morning and the calendar reading that same, dreaded day.

December 3rd.

You realized after the fifth time that you were, in no uncertain terms, stuck in a time loop. The universe seems to revel in your suffering, and it finds particular hilarity in you repeatedly having to see Sunday “for the last time.” It doesn’t matter what you change— the day always resets. You’ve seen him off with the sweet disposition you learned long ago to keep up in public spaces, and you’ve cursed him out, screamed at him, and hit him.

But none of it worked. Nothing has changed.

You sigh as Siobhan swipes your empty glass off the table and replaces it with a full one. She nods at you sympathetically, eyes gleaming with pity. In the years following your abduction, you became a regular at the Dreamjolt Holstery whenever Sunday was out on business. You drank yourself to the bottom of bottles, chasing some kind of reprieve in a place where you could actually breathe. Siobhan was always sweet to you and never ratted you out. Gallagher had been good company as well, chasing out Oak Family representatives whenever they came poking around. You miss him, at times.

You take a slow sip of your wine. The finest chardonnay Penacony has to offer slips down your throat, and a pang rips through you as it does. You had shared a bottle with Sunday on your second date, back when you believed him to be a much different man than he proved to be.

You push the glass across the table and fold your arms on top of it, laying your head down and resting your cheek against it. Your eyes blearily scan the bar, drinking in the happy couples with some bitter cocktail of desolation and envy. You watch them, the way they so tenderly hold each other and exchange whispers and sweet kisses— no fronts or guards up— and you lament it all. You curse Xipe’s name and spit on Ena’s memory for the umpteenth time. Perhaps your blasphemy is so plentiful at this point that it stands out against the countless prayers reaching the sky from Penacony’s citizens, a hideous smudge on what should be a flawless record of blind admiration.

But you never were very good at falling in line.

Movement startles you out of your stupor. You lift your head and watch as a woman donning a large black hat and draped in the finest clothing money can buy settles into the booth across from you.

You clench your jaw tightly. Lady Bonajade, the soul who so graciously saved Sunday from everything he deserves.

She meets your poisonous glare with a sickly sweet smile. “Such bitterness on what should be a joyous occasion,” she drawls. She takes the abandoned wine glass into her hand and takes a sip. “What’s the matter, darling?”

You flick your gaze back to the bar where Siobhan is wiping down the counter. “It’s not really any of your business,” you respond evenly. You know better than to entertain her. She won’t give you anything useful, anyway.

She didn’t the last time you talked to her about your predicament.

She laughs. “So distrusting, though I suppose I can’t blame you for being a product of your environment.” Your heated glare fixes on her again, and she smiles, pleased with herself. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you seem sad to see him go.”

“Then it’s a good thing you know better,” you mutter.

She hums, then lifts the glass again. She takes long sips of the wine as she scrolls idly through her phone, presumably waiting for you to crack and spill your guts.

Perhaps you would keep your wits about you under any other circumstances. Jade’s presence does not come without an ulterior motive, and anything she offers you will certainly not come free. Speaking with her means risking being trapped under someone else’s thumb when you’ve only been free from Sunday’s for a few months.

But is there any real harm in confiding in her if she won’t even remember this?

“You won’t believe me,” you say, in a voice barely above a whisper.

A small smile crosses her lips as she sets her phone down. She meets your eyes, her gaze deceptively warm. “Try me.”

You stare at the polished surface of the table for a long moment, failing to find strength in the disheveled reflection that stares back at you. “I’m stuck in a time loop.”

Jade doesn’t say anything. When you look up at her, her gaze is much sharper, but there’s clear interest in it. She gestures for you to continue.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve lived this day. No matter what I do, I wake up and it’s the third of December.” You clench your hands into fists, and they tremble where they rest on the table. “I’ve watched him leave countless times now. I’ve been kind to him when he leaves, I’ve slapped him in front of the Express crew, I’ve straight up refused to show up and I’ve left Penacony altogether. I’ve—” 

You choke on your words, remembering the sound of horrified shrieks and golden eyes gleaming with horror and heartbreak. The feeling of sinking the blade into his chest and getting his blood on your hands had been as sickening as it was liberating.

“I’ve killed him,” you whisper. “But he didn’t— he’s still here. Every day. I can’t get rid of him.” A pathetic, weak laugh leaves you as you bury your face in your hands. “Even now, I can’t get rid of him.”

Silence descends over the booth. The idle chatter and occasional laughter of other patrons breaks up the tension in the air between you and Jade. The only sign that she’s even still at the table with you is the sound of her nails clinking against the side of the wine glass as she ponders your words.

“Let’s say, for discussion’s sake, that I do believe you.” You look up, meeting her cool, calculated gaze. “Do you have any theories as to why you are stuck in a time loop?”

You frown. “If we go off cliche, I’m making a wrong decision somewhere.”

Jade nods. “Agreed. Something far bigger than us in a place beyond humanity isn’t happy with you.”

You rest your cheek against your palm. “Any suggestions? I’m all out of ideas.”

She hums. “Why don’t we start by going over what you haven’t tried? You’re—”

“A clever little thing, given my previous circumstances.” Jade’s eyes go a bit wide at your sudden interruption, completing her sentence for her. Feeling inordinately exhausted, you sigh. “We’ve had this conversation before.” You lower your gaze. “When you convinced me to kill him.”

Jade goes back to tapping the glass again. You glare at her. Maybe if she’d just let Sunday face the music and be executed like the little lamb Gopher Wood intended for him to be, you wouldn’t be in this mess. Maybe you’d be back in the Dreamflux, enjoying a quaint, more secluded life.

“Killing him did not work.”

“No,” you murmur, “it didn’t.”

“Well, then the answer seems quite clear to me.” She tilts her head to the side, causing the light to glint off her earrings. “But you may not like it very much, darling.”

Desperate, you say, “Shoot.”

The corner of her lips pull up, and she presses a finger to her lips in a shushing gesture. She stares at you expectantly.

You pull your lips back in a snarl. “You’re really not going to tell me?”

She lifts the glass one last time to her grinning lips, and polishes off the wine. “Clever little thing,” she says in sing-song.

White-hot rage burns in your veins, and red flashes behind your eyes. Too used to your actions no longer having consequences, you slam your hands onto the table, startling the patrons around you. 

Jade doesn’t so much as flinch.

“This is all your fault.” You thrust a damning finger in her face, your frustration mounting and your voice cracking in odd places. “You should have let him die. He deserved to. He deserved to— if not for what he did to Penacony, for what he did to me.”

“How sad you feel that way.” Her calm response stokes the flames burning up what little remains of your heart. “His sister would have missed him dearly.”

A sardonic laugh tears at your throat. “I could care less about Robin. What has she ever done for me?” You grin, wild and anguished. “Maybe if he died, then she would feel even a fraction of the despair I felt everyday trapped in that damn labyrinth he called our home!”

“You’re very focused on his death, when it’s already proven to be something that won’t work out for you very well.”

“If you hadn’t interfered,” you whisper, very slowly, “I wouldn’t be in this mess. Maybe instead, it would be me making a grand getaway with the Astral Express.”

A smile crawls over her face, cold and cruel and serpent-like. She leans forward ever so slightly, her hat casting shadows over the eyes that pin you to your seat.

“There’s your answer.”

Your heart plummets. Her words are ice-cold water down your back, raising every hair on your body and sending your heart stuttering. Time slows down and everything stills, the idle chatter of the bar nothing more than white noise in your ears as you stare into the maw of the predator, the one that allowed yours to live.

The word falls from your lips, a single, broken syllable. “No.”

“Going with him is the only thing you haven’t tried.”

“Why—” Something tight coils in your throat, and you choke on it, a sob finding its way out of your throat. “Why would that be the answer?”

Why should he still be allowed to have you, after everything?

Jade’s smile softens out around the edges. If you didn’t know any better, you would say she looks almost sympathetic. “Perhaps he has not fallen from grace with the Harmony as much as he believes he has.”

Your nails pierce through the skin of your palm. You bite down on your lip until you taste blood.

“He is a boy favored by aeons,” Jade says mournfully. “It is a choice that has never been in your hands.”

Letting out a shuddering gasp, you shoot up from the table and bolt out of the bar. Patrons exclaim around you as you shoulder past them, hardly holding yourself together from breaking down right there in the bar. Somewhere behind you, Siobhan calls out for you, but you ignore her and break out into a frenzied sprint.

Your legs burn as you run, your instincts taking over your mind which has gone numb. They carry you through the secluded alleys of Golden Hour, over fences and past guards and through thorn bushes until you finally reach your destination.

Finding your way into the room you had once shared with Sunday isn’t difficult. The twisted hallways of Dewlight Pavilion have long since been burned into your memory, and you easily reach the bedroom before various Oak Family guards can reach you.

You lock the door behind you and push yourself off the wall just as people begin pounding loudly on the door and shouting. Navigating the room in a daze, you reach the nightstand on Sunday’s side of the bed and open the drawer.

The matches he would use to light prayer candles have gone untouched.

Matches in hand, you march into the bathroom and open the cabinet. Ripping the isopropyl alcohol off the shelf, you untwist the cap with your teeth and spit it out onto the pristine tile floor. Walking back into the room, you douse the bed in the bottle’s contents, saving just a bit to leave a trail from the bed to the bedroom window.

You set the empty bottle down on your vanity. Fingertips ghosting over the surface, you pause when they meet the familiar grooves of a small jewelry box Robin had brought you from her previous tour. You open it, staring down at it in disdain as the music box attached to it plays a lullaby from your childhood— yet another cherished memory tainted by the siblings. Your eyes roam the contents of the box, taking note of the empty space amongst your collection of rings. 

You shut the lid, lock it, then hurl it at the window.

The clamoring guards outside the room get louder at the sound of shattering glass. Wasting no time, you rush toward the window and sling both legs over the ledge, your back now facing the room.

Turning around, you strike a match, and drop it onto the edge of the alcohol trail.

In a singular second, the fire catches and spreads, until the canopy bed is engulfed in flames.

A sob escapes your throat, then a laugh, then a strange combination of both. The sounds mesh together and rack your body until you’re nothing more than a hysterical mess sitting above broken glass, watching the room that haunts your nightmares burn to the ground.

A yell sounds behind you. “There’s the culprit!”

A tranquilizer dart reserved for Penacony’s worst pierces your arm, and then you collapse to the floor.

Your eyes fly open at the sound of a cheery Clockie theme song blaring through your room. Your arm shoots out from beneath your comforter and slams the snooze button, silencing the chipper voice. Slowly, you turn to look at your left arm. 

There’s no pinprick of a dart on it, not a single blemish in sight.

You bury your face into your pillow and scream at the top of your lungs, allowing yourself to sob one last time. Then, you resign yourself to your fate.

You go through the motions as though you haven’t been out of practice for even a single day. You take a long, warm shower, warming the water to the point of scalding and lathering your skin until it’s red and raw. You bathe yourself with a lavender soap— his favorite scent on you.

Wrapped in only a towel, you walk into your room and approach your closet. Taking a deep breath, you kneel down and reach in the far back, grabbing onto a box and pulling it toward you.

You grimace as you pull the flaps open. Inside sits the few objects gifted to you by Sunday that you decided to save when The Family permitted you to enter Dewlight Pavilion one last time, following his arrest. Gingerly, your fingers ghost over the soft silk of a baby blue shirt. You take the shirt and unfold it, releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding when your gaze falls on the small object that had been tucked away into the fabric.

A sapphire gemstone carved into an oval sits on top of an ornate silver band, encased on both sides by smaller diamonds.

You slip your wedding ring onto your finger, choking back a sob as you do.

You set the silk shirt aside and stuff the box’s remaining contents into a duffel bag which you also pack with the belongings that are too important to leave abandoned in a place you’re likely to never return to. You put the silk shirt on, pairing it with a flowy pair of pants and shoes that compliment it well. You clasp a simple yet rather expensive necklace around your throat. Then, you sling the duffel bag over your shoulder and head toward your apartment’s front door.

You shut it behind you without looking back.

Every step taken toward The Reverie is one filled with dread. Your legs are as heavy as your heart, every fiber of your being working to weigh you down and ask you to resist just one last time. Certainly, there must be another way, another method you haven’t tried yet.

You do not pray to Xipe. You do not pray to a god that has forsaken you in the name of gifting their favorite child everything his heart desires. You do not pray to a god who only rebuked him when his actions affected the masses— if your cries of suffering were not enough for them to take action then, then your cries would certainly not be enough now.

All you can do is hold onto a thin string of hope within your heart that when the day draws to a close, you will wake up in your bedroom once more.

The automatic doors of the dock hiss open as you approach, revealing the scene you’ve lived countless times before. Miss Himeko stands with Mr. Yang by the entrance, going over final clearances with one of The Reverie’s hosts. Closer to the Express’s entrance, March and Stelle rifle through a large bag filled with souvenirs, arguing over which of their friends from other planets will receive which gift. Dan Heng is somewhere inside the train with the most wanted man in Penacony.

Swallowing your grief, you approach the crew’s eldest members with a pleasant smile plastered onto your face.

“Pardon the intrusion, but do you perhaps have space for one more?”

Miss Himeko and Mr. Yang turn around, the former appearing a bit more surprised to see you than the latter. She eyes you with concern, her lips pursing into a thin line as her gaze lands on the bag you’ve brought with you, and the brilliant ring sitting on the hand that holds the duffle bag’s strap.

“Ah, you—” Mr. Yang shoots a quick glance at the host, who has already moved on to tending to other vehicles departing the dock. He looks back at you with a smile. “You must be Sunday’s partner.”

You nod. “I spoke with Jade recently. I was hoping that I could join you on your travels, for the time being.” You reach down to fidget with your ring, feigning heartache. “I hope it’s not too much trouble— and that you understand.”

Mr. Yang looks over your shoulder and meets Miss Himeko’s gaze. The two share a silent conversation, one that makes you more nervous with each passing second.

There is nothing anyone can prove, but you know that Jade is aware your marriage wasn’t a happy one, even if she doesn’t know the specifics. You also know that she has shared plenty of conversations with Miss Himeko, ones that may have explored more intimate details of Sunday’s life under the guise of assessing if he should be allowed to roam the galaxy beyond Penacony’s prison. If she turns you away now, it would be yet another method of breaking the time loop that you wouldn’t be able to test.

“We have no problem accepting another passenger, and we have plenty of space to accommodate you, of course.” Mr. Yang places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “But I must ask you: are you sure this is what you want?”

You’re not sure of what you want. You haven’t been sure of what you want since you woke up in Dewlight Pavilion that fateful night, dazed and confused with Sunday at your side, apologizing profusely but insisting it was for the best.

What you want has never been your choice, and perhaps it never would be.

“I appreciate the concern, but I have had plenty of time to think about this. I feel that being with my husband is the best path forward for me right now.” You give Mr. Yang a strained yet reassuring smile. “And if I change my mind, I’d be happy to get off and have a fresh start somewhere far from here.”

Mr. Yang and Miss Himeko share one last look, then the latter turns to you with a warm smile.

“We’d be happy to have you join us. The more the merrier, as they say.” She places a gentle hand on your shoulder. Mr. Yang disappears into the train as Miss Himeko pulls you slightly closer to her.

“And if you need anything,” she whispers, “do not hesitate to let me know.”

You take in a shuddering breath, struggling to keep your perfect facade together as she pulls away from you.

“Stelle! March!” The two girls turn toward Miss Himeko as she approaches the entrance. “I need you two to clear out whatever we have stored in the guest room. We’re leaving with one more head than expected.”

The two peek around Miss Himeko, eyes lighting up with curiosity as they spot you.

“Oh! Are you Mr. Sun— er, our new passenger’s spouse?” March beams at you, looking a bit bashful at her near slip-up. “You’re so cute!”

“Ah, thank you.” You bow your head in a polite gesture. “I’m very grateful Mr. Yang and Miss Himeko have decided to let me join you all. I hope it’s not a problem for the rest of you.”

“Of course not!” March jests cheerily, “Who are we to stand in the path of true love?”

You smile at her and say nothing.

“Well then,” Miss Himeko says, saving you from needing to entertain March’s comment, “it’s about time we get going. We have a few minor stops we’d like to make before Amphoreus, but we also don’t want to hold up Miss Black Swan more than we already have.”

“Right!” March skips up the steps to the lobby car, followed by Stelle, then you and Miss Himeko. “I can’t wait to go back to Belobog! I bought this cute origami bird plushie that I think Bronya will love.”

In the lobby, a man who bears a striking resemblance to Stelle lays sprawled out on one of the couches, watching Dan Heng fiddle with something on a holographic display. A bunny dressed in a conductor’s uniform shouts about dinner plans, and a woman donning a dark veil watches you board the train with a knowing look that makes your skin crawl.

You turn to Miss Himeko, avoiding the mysterious lady’s stare. “Where can I put my things?”

“Ah, right this way,” she says, guiding you toward the ascending staircase at the back of the car. The next car over is a long hallway of doors. She leads you to the very end of it and produces a keycard from her jacket pocket. She taps it against the door and it slides open, revealing a simple room furnished with a bed, desk, and dresser. She turns to you and hands you the keycard.

“Here’s where you’ll be staying. Feel free to change it however you see fit.” 

“Thank you, Miss Himeko.” You dip your head again. “Your hospitality is greatly appreciated.”

“Oh, please, there’s no need to be so formal. Just Himeko is fine, and we’re happy to have you.” Her smile falters a bit as she takes a step back and gestures to a door across the hall and a few doors down from yours. “He’s staying in that room, if you wish to speak with him. If you’re not ready, though, take as much time as you need.”

“Of course.” You step into the room they’ve assigned to you, setting your duffle bag on the floor. As you hear her footsteps retreating, you allow your face to fall and your body to slump against the bed, burying your face in your hands.

You stay like that, long after the door makes a clicking sound and slides shut.

You miss dinner, settling for chewing your nails down to nubs as a source of protein instead.

Surely, he must know that you’re here. You figure Mr. Yang mentioned it to him when he disappeared after you confirmed your wishes to board the train, and certainly March would have brought it up over dinner. 

He knows of your presence, but he has yet to approach you.

It puts you on edge. What could he possibly be scheming this time? Certainly, after his sudden fall from grace, he’d be pouncing at the opportunity to regain some semblance of control over something so familiar— at least, that’s what you figured before boarding the train, the very thing that left you hesitant to entertain Jade’s suggestion. 

You pace around your room well into the night, working your legs tired from walking to and fro in such a cramped space for nearly two hours. When it proves to be a futile effort to quell your anxieties or wear you down into a sleepier state, you huff and grab the key to your room off the barren desk and shove it into your pocket.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that he’s making you come to him. He’s always made you do that when he feels you’ve done something wrong, and your refusal to stand with him at the recreation of the dream was likely an egregious misstep in his eyes.

The door to your room hisses open. You step out into the hallway, darkened now that the lights have been dimmed to the lowest setting. You drag your feet as you walk, prolonging your journey as you gather the last of your courage and try to figure out what you’ll say— whether you’ll face him with all the rage boiling beneath your skin, or with the perfectly crafted mask you’d grown so used to wearing before the events of the Charmony Festival. 

You raise your hand— curled into a fist— and let it hover in the air in front of the door. Sucking in a deep breath, you will your heart to slow in your chest, then you rap lightly against the door.

For a few seconds, nothing happens. They spill into each other, and the lack of response has you considering fleeing to your room when the sound of a latch releasing knocks you out of your stupor. The door hisses open, and golden eyes pierce into your own.

Sunday meets your eyes with all the burning intensity as the day he first told you he loves you. He blinks rapidly a few times, long lashes brushing against his cheeks as he does. His gaze slowly drags up and down your figure, taking you in, almost in disbelief. When he settles on meeting your gaze again, he murmurs your name lightly into the space between you two, the sweet call of it dousing the flames that have been burning since his arrest and leaving you so, so cold.

Your throat constricts. You’d forgotten how small he makes you feel— not because he’s cruel, but because his love for you is so tangible and pure despite everything he’s done.

“Sunday,” you whisper back, mournfully.

His gloved fingers twitch where they rest by his side, yet he does not reach for you. “Not that I’m displeased to see you, my love,” he asks, “but what are you doing here?”

The truth sounds as insane as it makes you feel, so you lie. “I wanted to check on you.”

Something softens in his gaze, and you feel your veins flood with disgust— whether it’s at the fact that he’s so desperate for your affection that he readily believes you, or because it’s so easy for him to break down the walls of hatred you’ve built up, you refuse to determine.

You grit your teeth, trying to dredge up some of your fury from earlier. “Don’t be misled,” you mutter, “I’m not here to pretend like everything’s fine.” You cross your arms over your chest, facing him again with a more guarded look. “If you’re traveling with the Express as a means to make up for what you’ve done, then—” You suck in a sharp breath. “Then someone you’ve wronged should be here to see if you’re really changing.”

You avert your gaze. The silence grows thick between you two, the seconds blending into long, agonizing minutes.

“I see,” he finally says, and you look back up at him. There’s something pinched in his gaze— something a bit pained— yet he manages to look relieved. “If that’s the case, then I’m glad it’s you.” His next words come as a shock to you, causing your eyes to go wide and rendering you speechless. “I understand I have much to make for. Not just to Penacony, but to you, particularly, my dear.”

As you fall quiet, he steps toward you and delicately takes your fingers into his grasp. He brings them up to his lips and kisses the end of each one before speaking again. “I would like to earn the right to your love again,” he mumbles against them. “If you’ll allow me.”

Within you, your hatred and fondness for Sunday wage a war with each other, fighting to gain the upper hand. You shouldn’t allow him— you should have never been forced into a position where you would even have to entertain such a notion. You’ve lived this day so many times, and all it’s done is remind you of who put you in the situation, who dragged you down from the heavens with him. Each relived day left your fury festering like an open wound, as desperate for reprieve from the loop as you’d been desperate for your freedom, at a time.

And yet, there’s another part of you that was forgotten in the midst of the chaos of the time loop, one that is hopelessly enamored with him and endlessly forgiving. You will never agree with his methods or his actions, but despite everything, you still understand his viewpoint and how it drove him to this point. The hardest part about loving Sunday is knowing that every shred of pain he may cause is inflicted with only the best intentions, each wound carved into you with a tender touch and healed through a devotion that runs so deep it leaves you dizzy.

You curl your fingertips into his hold and pull yourself toward him, crossing the threshold and stumbling into his room. You crash into him and bury your face in his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist to hold yourself there. He lets out a shuddering exhale at the contact. One of his hands settles at the small of your back, and the other comes up to cradle the back of your head and gently stroke your hair.

“You better make up for all of it,” you say, voice wet with unshed tears. “You better make it worth my while.”

He hums, and you can feel it reverberate through his chest. “Of course, dove,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Nothing but the best for you.”

The next morning, you wake to the sound of the train’s low buzzing as it shoots through the cosmos. There is no alarm clock, no barren apartment walls, no calendar pinned beside your desk. There is only the feeling of Sunday’s feathers against your skin from where his face is pressed into your neck, his arms around your waist.

You let out a soft sob, then will yourself back to sleep.

[endursent]

Hi!

Not exactly sure if you take platonic requests but I would love to see your take on Sunday with a teen reader who kind of just stuck to his side the first time they met (reader lost their parents)

As for if it's pre-Astral Express or Astral Express Sunday it's up to you or it can be both if there is a noticable shift in dynamic between the two :3

【 content; sunday & gn!reader , astral express sunday , oak family sunday , general , mild bonding , sunday has changed a lot , rather short 】

【 note; i don't mind platonic requests! i've written plenty before, but it's been a while. thank you for the request!! i somehow haven't actually written pre-express sunday before...? i see sunday my brain goes brrrr. 】

【 word count; 1.493 | masterlist 】

Family Head - 

Sunday likes to think he’s quite good at handling people, be it when it comes to his work or personal life—which isn’t much to talk about—and thus when you follow him around like a lost duckling between errands after meeting at a funeral, he decides to at least make use of you.

  Not maliciously, sometimes he tasks you with carrying things, or writing something down he’ll have to remember. Sunday comes to find it quite helpful, despite the fact he barely knew your parents and that his presence was more of a formality—he doesn’t particularly mind your sudden presence, per se… but he has a reputation to uphold, and he must make sure that you will not do any damage to it.

  He’s very skilled in prying information out of others, both by force and not—though he prefers it to be a last resort that he thankfully didn’t have to utilise on you. Sunday hums to himself after passing down a street, vehicles cruising along the roads and people waiting to pass—he stops suddenly and you nearly walk into his back, but just barely manage to stop yourself before doing so. 

  He turns to you and tilts his head. “What is your preferred meal?”

  The question catches you off-guard. Sunday hasn’t asked you a direct question about yourself like this before, and though you can’t stop yourself from thinking of warm, homemade meals and familial comfort—you manage to blurt out the first thing that comes to your mind outside of old morsels clumsily.

  “I see. Come,” he turns and crosses the street before checking for passing vehicles, and be it pure luck or a creepy understanding of the Dreamscape’s environment, he passes between gaps in the road easily—you just barely make it by following at his heel. 

  After gifting (bribing) you with the meal of your choice, he gouges out your circumstance and position—mostly inquiring whether you don’t have any other immediate family to turn to. Tragedies are nothing new to him, and Sunday is a very practiced listener… but the presence of pain and the way you try not to maintain eye-contact with him throughout does tug on his need to rectify it. 

  He’s a bit awkward, as Sunday slowly tries to involve you more—more than just a glorified assistant. If nothing else, he can grant you a place in the Family and allow you a life for yourself, he can guide and mentor you forward to where you must go—but he cannot be with you at the finish line. 

– Generally rather neutral about your presence, he doesn’t quite realise that you’ve attached yourself to his hip until someone lists it out for him.

– He doesn’t mind being a guiding figure for you, though he doesn’t really believe that he’s the best person to do so—he might search for some guidance himself if you were to present him with something complicated. Yet he also doesn’t want you to risk being alone and without a guardian… that’s usually how people get taken advantage of.

– He’s rather busy, so he gives you tasks or errands to run while Sunday tends to his work. He does rather enjoy that you aren’t too independent, mostly because he has a prickle at the back of his mind that you might get yourself in trouble, which might lead to difficulty and danger—or even hurt. Which Sunday is rather vehemently against. 

– There is genuine interest in his questioning when he tries to get to know you, to gouge your interests, your worldview and person. Depending on you, he might either nurture those traits, or spend much time getting you to understand his own.

– He will never force or manipulate you to change your worldview or reasoning, but he will make you sit down and listen to him talk until you understand his own.

Astral Express -

Sunday felt a little overwhelmed when he boarded the Express at first—there were some rules he didn’t quite understand, and he’s never had to share a space with so many people before… so he often kept to a corner he picked for himself. 

  The crew of the Express is practically a family already, and despite your needs being very much tended to—Himeko and Welt have practically taken it to themselves to be pseudo parental figures—you don’t feel a sense of… shared kinship with many of them. 

  But there’s something about Sunday��s own struggles and reserved demeanour that makes it quite comfortable to just sit with him. He didn’t quite like it at first, some kid he’s never met before plopped themselves down by the table he’s sitting at as he stared out the long windows of the Express and made themselves comfortable despite the many other places you could’ve sat.

  But he kept it to himself, his eyes drifted back out to the vast expanse and neither of you moved until you were practically dragged by the ears to have some dinner after missing the hollers. 

  You have to be the first one to approach and sit down by him. Sunday quickly memories the Express’ routine and makes it his personal mission—at least it seems like it—to take as little space as possible, both physically and mentally, in the way of staying out of sight and mind. 

  He never declines your presence, but you never really asked either. One afternoon a day after you had accidentally rambled about a book series you had been reading to Sunday (you barely slept after realising you had talked for almost two hours) March tricked you into playing games in her room—and somehow Dan Heng as well—after a short stop on a highly commercialised planet, where she had spent all her spare credits on a console and games you had never heard of before. 

  You were a little relieved that you hadn’t seen Sunday all day despite the fact you found his presence soothing to be around—and the fact he’s an excellent listener!—but at the same time… you also wanted to ask him if he minded that you kept coming to his table. 

  The game was distracting enough, taking your mind away from your thoughts and before you knew it, two hours had passed. In fact, you wouldn’t have noticed if three had passed were it not for the fact that March’s door slid open, and Sunday peeked inside… bringing the three pairs of eyes in the room towards him. 

  He leaned back slightly when he realised his subtle peek had failed, and gave an awkward nod. “Ah… my apologies, I didn’t mean to intrude.” Sunday had wondered where you had gone—your presence hasn’t been missed at the table for several days now, and considering he hadn’t seen you all day (mostly due to his own routine) he had worried you might be sick or otherwise unable to come to the party car. 

  March, however, is unbothered. She holds one controller towards him despite the distance (and sitting on the floor). “Come play with us!” 

  Sunday’s lips part, and he nearly declines on instinct… but what else is he going to do? He found out where you were, he would just go back to the table and sit in lonesome silence. “… is it okay if I watch?”

  She shrugs. “Whichever you want, Dan Heng always wins anyway.” 

  Slipping inside silently, Sunday finds a spot on the floor to sit, and you turn to explain the mechanics of the game to him so that he can understand what he’s looking at. Sunday nods along and asks some follow-up questions regarding the characters you could pick—he doesn’t mind your blabbering at all.

– Express Sunday is a bit more reserved, he doesn’t present himself outwardly—mostly because he is in the midst of understanding himself and reevaluating his worldview. Perhaps your presence and long talks helps him further his thoughts and understandings. 

– A second perspective outside of the events of Penacony is very valuable to him now, he is quiet and listens closely as you talk—and even if you don’t, he’s listening to the ambiance of the Express, or the hum rumbling the sides of the cars. 

– Sunday sees you somewhat like himself at a younger age, a figure searching for guidance and acceptance with little to fall back on. Unlike himself, you have the Express crew to guide you forward were you to fall—and though he felt a prick of envy at the first thought, he understands that circumstances are different, and nothing will change the past. He must move on to the future. 

– He doesn’t really have ‘hobbies’, so anything you or the crew can introduce him to or tug him along for is a whole experience… though he might be a bit stiff at first, he is usually quick to learn—even when you showed him a strange puzzle mind-game developed by a branch of the Intelligentsia Guild and published to download on your phone. You saw him pondering over them for hours during long evenings.

[crguang]

love language

Overworked and always putting themselves second, both Himeko and Natasha just need someone to help them relax after a tiring day <3

fluffy smut, sub!himeko, sub!natasha, gn!reader, oral sex, fingering, squirting (himeko), ~3k words for both

A/N: this was in the drafts for 2 months… finally polished it off enough to post it omg.

You’re cozy between warm sheets and fluffy pillows, the light of the cabin dimmed to help you relax as you read the last few sentences of the volume in your hands.

You’re entirely focused on the story’s conclusion until you reach the last words and blink out of the daze you’ve been in for the past… three hours? You glance at the digital clock on the nightstand, disbelievingly at first, then softly close the book. It’s past midnight, you hadn’t planned to finish it tonight and you’re surprised you managed to get through the end without getting interrupted. The day’s fatigue accumulates at the corner of your eyes. For a minute, you sit in the bed, simply taking in the book you just read. It left you somewhat unsatisfied, you’re not a fan of the protagonists walking different paths after spending most of the story working to reunite with each other. It reminds you of the Astral Express, of the bonds you’ve forged with the Nameless; the thought of one day separating from them saddens you. You know each of them have a road to follow but they’ve become family over the years, that also goes for Stelle, who’s the team’s newest addition.

As you reflect on your book, you realize— a little late— that you’re alone in the cabin. The spot beside you is untouched as it was this morning, not a crease on the clean pillows. You frown. Himeko must still be working on the train, even after telling you it wouldn’t be long and that she’d be ready for bed before you could finish another chapter. You don’t care about her not fulfilling her word, concern swells in your chest instead because it’s the third day this week where she’s slept past one in the morning, too preoccupied with making sure the Express runs smoothly. She easily forgoes rest to prioritize her work, and while you’re all grateful for her dedication, you wish she would not consider herself second best.

You lift the comforter off your body and step into your slippers. You stretch your arms over your head as you make your way to the door, softly sliding it open. The train car is quiet, only a low whirring sound can be heard from the archive room, the familiar noise relaxing you. The lights are dimmed, never completely shut in case of emergency. You walk down the corridor to reach the parlor. The door slides open and you hear soft murmurs of conversation as you step into the parlor, blinking a couple times to adjust to the bright lights. Himeko is seated on one of the large couches, discussing something with Pom-Pom, and doesn’t hear you come in. The conductor does since they’re facing you, but they only nod pensively at whatever Himeko is saying.

You cross your arms over your chest and wait, leaning on the wall. It gives you the chance to admire your pretty girlfriend; her coat is discarded somewhere on the train, leaving her shoulders bare, and from this angle you can pinpoint the few dispersed moles on her shoulder blades while the rest are hidden by her silky, red hair. Her face is bare of any makeup, long lashes brushing her cheeks with every blink and plump, pink lips you can’t help but stare at. You can almost smell her signature perfume if you concentrate long enough, it’s usually mixed with a strong coffee aroma to create a scent specific to her. Himeko is a refreshing sight no matter the hour of the day.

You don’t mind waiting for her to notice you, not wanting to interrupt her conversation. She eventually does when she gestures to the phonograph, eyes glossing over you for a second before she turns back to Pom-Pom, then head whirling back to you as she registers your presence in the room. Himeko smiles softly at you, waving in greeting, and you return it easily. You can’t really hear what they’re saying because of how low they’re talking, only snippets and words that make no sense out of context. After another minute where you assume the conversation is getting wrapped up, Himeko stands from the couch and bids the conductor goodnight. She walks over to you and reaches for your hand the moment she’s close enough, fingers lacing with yours.

“You’re still up?” Himeko asks, her thumb absentmindedly rubbing your skin.

“Mhm. I finished my book.”

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry. I had to fix a couple things, then Pom-Pom wanted to share their thoughts on something, I lost track of time. You shouldn’t have waited.”

Her free hand comes up to cup your cheek for an instant before lowering down your bicep. Himeko is always touching you in some way, whether it’s with a palm on your lower back or her fingertips tracing shapes into your forearm. She does it unconsciously, you noticed. It warms you to think that her body seeks yours out whenever you’re in the same room.

“It’s nothing,” you say, “I’m more concerned about you.”

“Me?”

“You’ve been sleeping later and later recently. Are you okay?”

Something gleams in Himeko’s eyes at the worry lacing your words. Her gaze softens like it often does when she looks at you and a small smile grows on her lips, squeezing your hand once.

“Of course. There’s always something to do on the Express, is all. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’ll always worry about you.”

You see appreciation on her face. Himeko leans forward to press a sweet, chaste kiss on your lips. Her hand tugs you along as she opens the parlor door and begins to walk towards her cabin.

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

You let her lead you to her room. It’s in the same state you left it, but it feels warmer with her here. You settle onto the bed as Himeko rummages around for the gown she sleeps in and unashamedly take in the curves of her body as she undresses. She shoots you an amused look that has you smiling innocently, pulling the gown over her head and smoothing out her hair. She joins you, lays down against the pillows and wraps her arms around you to gently pull you into her. You inhale slowly into her neck. One hand strokes your hair and you sigh softly at the same time Himeko makes a noise of contentment. A comfortable silence stretches between you for a moment, broken only by the reassuring sound of the Express in the background. You sneak an arm around her waist to hold her tighter.

“I love having you like this…” Himeko murmurs with a slow exhale. “I look forward to it every night.”

You hum, nuzzling into her. Your reply is slightly muffled, “You do so much in a day. You deserve to feel this relaxed more often.”

“Sometimes I don’t know how you have the energy to deal with me.”

“What are you talking about?”

Himeko sighs again, and her hand trails down your back in soothing motions. “You're so understanding with me, indulging me when I need it. You're always there, even when I don't know I need something, you give me the help I need. You don’t mind me working late so often; you have… so much patience for me.”

You pull away from her to look her in the eyes, brows furrowed in confusion. “Himeko, you’re the sweetest, most reliable person alive. How could I not be patient with you?”

She laughs quietly and cups your cheek. Her lidded eyes are full of affection as her thumb caresses your skin.

“You and your sweet words. It's hard not to believe them when you say them with such a sincere tone.”

“That’s because they’re true.”

Himeko brings you close with a hand on the back of your neck. Her lips meet yours in a tender kiss and your eyes shut in bliss at the feeling of her mouth moving against yours. She’s soft and warm and loving, keeping you in place until she’s had her fill and lets you lean back to catch your breath. You rest your foreheads together, noses brushing. Himeko’s hands travel up your body, from your hips to your waist and back down in steady touches, enjoying the feel of your curves. You plant gentle kisses on her jaw and almost feel her melt under you.

“You deserve every ounce of kindness…” your lips trail up to the apple of her cheek, “every show of appreciation…” you kiss her forehead then descend to the bridge of her nose; it scrunches up slightly with her growing smile, “and affection that comes your way.” You press another languid kiss to her lips.

Himeko’s gaze shows only adoration when you pull away to look at her, breathing a little heavier. Her lips are parted ever so slightly, her hands squeezing your waist. You swipe some hair out of her face as your palm rests on her cheek. Any fatigue you previously felt disappears at the sight of her under you like this, looking up at you with such admiration. It still feels a bit unreal, for someone so good to stare at you this way, it makes you believe that perhaps you too are deserving of others’ love.

You lean closer, the tip of your nose grazing hers, voice soft and eyes fluttering shut. “If you’re still in doubt, I could show you, if you’d like.”

Himeko’s smile turns teasing as your hand slips under her nightgown to slide up her knee. She pretends to think about it.

“Mmm… That depends on how you plan to do that.”

“Well, I have a few ideas… They all include you whimpering for me.”

Her chuckle makes you smile.

“Whimpering? You’re confident.”

“With reason, I assure you.”

Himeko welcomes your mouth on hers with enthusiasm, one of her hands curling around your nape. You’ve learned how to make her so dizzy with need that she’s entirely at your mercy, and it starts with the gentle swipe of your tongue over her bottom lip. Her lips part wider to deepen the kiss and you feel her fingers tighten their hold on your neck. Her tongue slides over yours, accustomed to your taste and still so breathless, while you rub her thigh. She hums low against your mouth as you try your best to adjust your position above her without breaking the kiss. Your thigh lodges itself between hers, feeling them clench once before relaxing into the bed.

Himeko is easy to please; loving touches up her torso to her chest makes her gasp softly, your tongue past her lips has her pulling you closer, and the slight pressure from your thigh between her legs is enough for her breathing to stutter. You kiss down her jaw to her neck and she tilts her head to make herself more accessible to your mouth. You know which spot makes her sigh in pleasure and which causes her to jerk her hips into your touch. You suck on her pulse point, humming at the fingers that tangle themselves in your hair at the gesture. The skin of her throat reddens and you lick it to soothe the pain before pulling away from her completely.

You sit up, gazing down at the flush of her cheeks and the rise of her chest. The square neckline of her nightgown gives you a tantalizing view of her cleavage. You bring a hand to touch the mole over her right breast, index finger massaging the flesh around it.

“So beautiful you are,” you say absentmindedly, pulling her clothes down with your free hand to watch how her breasts spill from their confines.

Himeko bites her lip in anticipation. The obvious desire in her gaze spurs you on, and you take handfuls of her heavy breasts to fondle them. The friction of your warm palms on her hardening nipples has her fingers sinking into the sheets. You twist a pink nipple between two fingers, delighting in the quiet moan that follows. Himeko’s breasts are so pliable, so plush, you can’t help lowering your mouth to one and sucking it like a pacifier. Her nipple puffs up under your wet tongue and you swallow a sound of pleasure at the feeling. Your teeth graze the soft skin of her breasts and leave faint marks across her chest everywhere they go. Her breasts shine with a thin coat of saliva when you finally separate yourself from them, and Himeko’s audibly breathing through her mouth, fingers curling around your locks. Her hips seek friction for her pussy by pressing into your thigh, but it’s not enough to relieve the need between her legs. Her nightgown has risen up to the top of her thighs, barely hiding her damp panties from sight.

You take in your work of art on her chest, the glisten of her puffy nipples and the shades of red on her skin slowly shifting into gorgeous blues and purples. Your thumb circles her sensitive bud as you watch Himeko’s brows quiver in pleasure. She won’t beg you for more, yet, even if what she needs is spelled out on her face.

You hook your fingers under the thin strap of her gown and let it snap against her skin as you let go. “Take it off, princess.”

Satisfaction swirls in your gut when she complies, sliding her arms out of the straps and pulling the material down her waist. You move to allow her to take it off completely and discard it somewhere on the bed, leaving her in nothing but her underwear. Your hands greedily travel up her thighs to her waist, squeezing the soft curves of her love handles along the way. Tiny moles decorate her body from her chest to her inner thigh like final touches on a meticulously painted artwork. Blood runs hot under her skin, adding a little color to the painting that she is. She’s stunning, and she’s yours.

You settle between her legs and prop her knees up to spread her thighs. Himeko grips your hair once more, her favorite, as you knead the flesh of her inner thighs.

“Seriously, Hime,” your eyes are glued to the damp patch on her cotton panties, arousal pooling in your belly, “the Knights of Beauty should be worshiping you.”

Himeko’s breathless laugh turns into a low moan when you use two fingers to rub her lower lips over her underwear, feeling her arousal ruin the material until it sticks to her pussy. You can see the outline of her labia under the fabric and you don’t even have it in you to tease her. Your index pulls her panties aside, revealing her glistening cunt and making you bite your bottom lip in lust. You lean forward to kiss around her labia. The smell of her arousal fills your sinuses and you feel desire tighten your stomach. Himeko urges you closer to her pussy with the hand in your hair, hips jerking towards your mouth. Your tongue darts out to lick her leisurely, slithering between her folds and ignoring her twitching clit. You moan into her cunt at the taste of her and Himeko lets out a noise close to a whimper, bucking into you to feel more of your tongue on her pussy.

You quickly tire of keeping her panties at bay, so you waste no time in sliding them down her legs and tossing them on the floor. Her cunt is entirely exposed to you, slick dripping between her ass cheeks. She’s so wet, her clit stands at the ready, waiting for you to wrap your lips around it and suck. You spread her lips with two fingers and lower your mouth to her pussy, licking up her slit like a thirsty kitty.

“Mmngh…” Himeko makes the sweetest noises above you, from breathy moans to quiet whimpers as you work her up, eyes shut in pleasure. Her free hand grabs a fistful of the sheets under her. “Ah… Nnh…”

You tease her entrance with a finger, not quite sliding inside. Your tongue swirls around her aching clit, from base to tip, and you’re rewarded by a poorly restrained moan from your pretty girlfriend. Himeko’s thighs twitch as you lap her up but she finds the strength to keep them spread for you, instead gripping your hair a bit tighter to pull you towards her cunt. A finger tentatively pushes into her pussy to the knuckle and her hips stutter in their steady rocking at the welcomed intrusion. She gets used to the sensation quickly, brows twitching, and you curl the digit to hit a specific spot inside her, a drawn out moan escaping her.

“Nngh…” Himeko whimpers out your name, chest heaving, “m—more…”

You can’t refuse her when she sounds so fucking pretty. You harshly suck her clit, feeling it throb, and push another finger inside her clenching cunt. She squeezes your digits but takes them like a champ, allowing you to plunge deep into her to hit the spongy spot that makes her cry out. You look up at her as she grinds her pussy on the flat of your tongue, lost in pleasure. Her breasts move with every jerk of her hips, her lips are forever parted to let out soft mewls and her creamy skin glows under the lights from the sweat accumulating on her body. The wet sounds of your digits thrusting into her cunt are sinful, they fill the cabin along with Himeko’s barely contained moans. Her belly tightens with need, and she clenches around your fingers with another desperate whimper. You flick your tongue on her engorged clit a few times, drilling into her with a pace you know she likes, hard and fast. Slow, loving touches on her body will turn Himeko on like nothing else but when she gets like this, only thinking about her release, she needs it rough enough to push her over the edge. She meets your efforts halfway and grinds into you, swallowing your fingers further into her wet pussy.

You can tell how close she is by the pitch of her voice; it gets slightly higher with every passing minute you spend with your nose buried into her cunt.

“P–Please—” Himeko babbles, “Let me…”

You find it adorable how the last push she needs is often just the confirmation that she’s allowed to come.

“Come for me, princess.”

Himeko whines, squeezing your fingers tight as she gushes into your mouth. Her cum coats your lips and chin and you lap it up eagerly, moaning at the taste. You clean her up diligently while her thighs threaten to close around your head and her clit throbs with her orgasm. She comes on your tongue with a pretty noise of pleasure and you ease your fingers out of her fluttering pussy to keep her thighs pinned to the mattress. You lick up her slit once, twice, desperate to swallow more of her cum. Himeko inhales sharply when your tongue flicks over her sensitive clit. You know her body inside and out, and so you know that sucking her clit right after an orgasm will make her squirt like she is now, spurts of cum coating your face and her needy cries filling your ears. She makes a mess for you, ruining the sheets under her, until she can’t take it anymore and has to pull you away from her cunt by the hair so she can catch her breath.

You relent, swiping your tongue over your lips and looking up at her with a cocky smirk. Himeko struggles to regulate her breathing, chest heaving and limbs still twitching from the aftershocks. You hover over her to press a gentle kiss to her jaw.

“We really should relax this way more often.”

“You work yourself too hard.”

Your warm, muttered words send a shiver across the skin of Natasha’s nape and the sensation spreads down her back as would a chilling gust of wind, the kind that only appears during Belobog’s most forgiving winters. It leaves goosebumps in its wake that you chase away with the palm of your hands firmly pressing over her shoulder blades, tracing the protruding bones lower down her back before slowly bringing your hands to rest on her shoulders. You hear her soft sigh as you massage her skin and undo knots of long accumulated stress from her muscles. You’re sure her eyes are closed despite being unable to see her.

“I have to,” she replies, her voice just as low, like speaking any louder will disturb the quiet around you.

Your hands run down her arms at an unhurried pace. You love touching her, love the feel of her. It’s a beautiful thing, touch; the warmth of her merging with yours, the particular bumps and wrinkles and stretch marks unique to her can all be felt under your fingertips. You have discovered every crevice, every nook and cranny of her with only your hands. On nights like this one, when the pressure catches up to her, she’s pliable under your touch and all the more enchanting. You bury your nose where her neck meets her shoulder, inhale the scent of the perfumed soap she used in the bath an hour earlier and lace your fingers with hers when your hands end their trek on the sensitive surface of her wrists.

You feel her lean into you a little more when you speak, “One day soon, you’ll be able to take a break without the sky collapsing.”

It’s unfair, though you understand how much the Underworld needs Natasha. She stepped forward when no one else did and naturally took over the responsibility for its citizens’ wellbeing, she is without a doubt an integral part of the small society you built around the mines. She bears this burden with a humble heart and a tired smile. The pride you feel for her goes beyond the Underworld’s dark ceilings, maybe even beyond the white clouds she sometimes tells you about when you question her about the surface. She is a diamond amongst pebbles, wasting her time on even the most worthless of you because she believes that everyone deserves a fighting chance. Her selflessness knows no bounds, and you feel sad. The bags under her eyes get darker every morning. Sleep claims her the minute her pretty hair touches the pillows. You wish she would allow herself some reprieve but Natasha has no self-serving bone in her body. She can’t be selfish, so you have to, lest she gets buried under unreasonable demands and complaints. With the appointment of a new Supreme Guardian, however, and the channels between the two worlds open once again, things are looking brighter. The fragmentum has stopped spreading and for once, you see a glint of hope in the gazes of the Underworlders. The Supreme Guardian’s plans for a painless future lift some of that persistent weight off Natasha’s shoulders. You’re grateful for it.

“I think part of me won’t know what to do when the time does come,” Natasha admits. She brings your arms tighter around her frame and sighs. “I can’t imagine not being needed…”

“People will always need you. You just won’t have the pressure to uphold half a city from the brink of disaster. You deserve that.”

She doesn’t reply to that. You free one hand and lift your head, then delicately grab a hold of her jaw to tilt her face towards yours. Her eyes blink open and you see the fatigue incrusted into their rubied depths.

“You deserve that,” you repeat firmly, watching as her gaze grows softer. “You of all people deserve to be free of anxiety and responsibility. I’ll make you see it one day, too.” Your thumb trails up her chin to her bottom lip. “Until then, I’ll take care of you when you won’t.”

Her lip twitches and her eyelashes flutter, taken with sudden emotion, before she simply leans closer and captures your mouth with hers, an unsaid “thank you” dying in her throat. The hand still intertwined with yours squeezes gently as she kisses you. It keeps you grounded to her presence in your arms and her touch on your body. You taste her chapstick on your tongue when she opens her mouth further to deepen the kiss. It’s the same she wears every day but it’s no less intoxicating.

“Nat…” you murmur against her lips, “I want to help you relax, if only for tonight.”

You hear her intake of breath as you plant open kisses up and down her jaw, following invisible patterns of affection on her skin like carefully woven threads. Natasha nods softly when your lips reach hers once more and the happy smile that grows on your face fills her with warmth even the bulkiest coats couldn’t provide.

She lets you adjust yourself behind her. You guide her to lean back so your chest is flushed against her and her breath tickles your neck.

Your hands brush the sides of her chest over her shirt and curl to hold her breasts properly. Natasha sucks in a breath when you squeeze them a little; you know she’s always been sensitive there, how pleasant it is for her. You palm her flesh, enjoying the softness of it beneath your hands and its quickly hardening tips. Your thumb swipes over one nipple and feels it grow from the sensation. You give the other the same attention and it’s not long before your pointer fingers join the fun to gently pinch the doctor’s nipples. Natasha shifts slightly, bringing one leg up to squeeze her thighs together, and you almost huff out a laugh at the action. You can feel the embarrassment radiating off of her at how easily aroused she’s getting, so you decide not to tease her too much. Verbally, at least, because your hands aren’t leaving her breasts until her underwear is well and truly ruined.

A muffled noise of pleasure escapes Natasha when you twist her nipples just right between two fingers. Her lips are parted and her breathing has gotten heavier. She grabs your thigh with a hand to compose herself somewhat. Though her face is obscured from your sight, you know her eyes are squeezed shut as she allows herself to enjoy your attention.

“Ah…” She breathes out as you finally slip your hands under her shirt and caress the plane of her stomach. Goosebumps follow wherever your touch strays.

Her nipples are like pretty pebbles on her chest, a rosy color you can’t yet see. They’re hard and sensitive judging by the way Natasha squeezes her legs together every so often, and you can’t help the fondness you feel at her compliance. She’s aroused and ready for you to go further, but she takes what you give without complaint or plea. It makes you want to give her everything she needs, patience be damned. You bite your lip at the thought. Tonight is all about Natasha’s pleasure, after all.

Keeping one hand around her breast, you trail the other down her torso until it reaches the edge of her pajama pants. Her thighs spread almost immediately to accommodate you and you coo softly at the sight, breathing out a chuckle when you feel Natasha press further into your neck out of embarrassment.

“Don’t worry,” you say, slipping into her pants to brush her underwear, “I’ll take good care of you.”

“…I know,” she replies, voice soft.

The trust she willingly puts in you is heartwarming, it expands your chest cavity to make place for your inflating heart. You explore her covered sex with two fingers and feel the arousal seeping from the thin cloth. She always gets so wet from nipple stimulation… Cute. Natasha moans when you spread her lips and apply pressure to her clit. You long to feel it twitch under your tongue, but you’ve teased her enough for now. Your hand slithers past her panties to finally give her what she wants. Natasha’s moans are breathy “oh”’s and “ah”’s that she no longer tries to conceal. Your fingers smear her arousal all over her cunt before paying special attention to her puffy clit. Sensitive as it feels, you enjoy the way her thighs twitch as you massage its base while pinching her nipple. The added stimulation coats your hand in warm, sticky fluids.

“Ah! Please…” Natasha mutters with a swallow, grip tightening on your thigh.

You shush her nicely, swiping the pad of your index finger over her clit in firm circles. “I know, Nat. Just relax.”

You imagine her brows twisting in pleasure and her pretty lips trembling. Her chest heaves with uncontrolled breaths and you have half a mind to yank her shirt over her head so you can see her perky nipples rise and fall with the flow.

You give her clit some reprieve and ignore the immediate little whine of indignation that follows. She’s so wet as you trail down her cunt to her entrance that you decide to push two fingers inside her instead of one. You feel her cunt clench around your digits and bite back a groan as you rub her walls. Natasha moans your name, voice breaking in the middle, and her toes curl when you pick up the pace inside her. She’s a vocal mess despite not uttering any actual words. Her panting against your neck is so arousing you only plunge your fingers harder into her.

You twist and pull her nipple with your other hand. Natasha somehow restrains herself from squirming under your touch to make your job easier and you make a mental note of rewarding her for her consideration.

“Just like that,” you encourage her, her cunt squeezing you like a vice. “I’ve got you.”

Your only response is a small whine and the bucking of her hips against your hand. They move in tandem with the rhythm of your fingers, greedily chasing release.

“You’re doing so good, Natty, letting me help you like this…”

Your words make her cunt clench. The noises filling your bedroom are positively filthy as the heel of your palm grazes Natasha’s sensitive clit. She’s close, you can feel it, so you keep up the pace until she comes with a cry into your neck, teeth brushing your skin and hips stuttering. You slow down inside her only slightly to help prolong her orgasm and one of her hands grabs yours on her breast when she arches towards the ceiling. It takes a moment before Natasha settles back against you, breathy and slack. You gently slip out of her.

You let her catch her breath, instead bringing your hand to light to see how her arousal clings to your digits. Spreading them makes a string that connects the two and you hum before turning back to Natasha. You push her forward a little, enough to be able to capture her mouth in a sloppy kiss. Your tongue pushes past her lips to intertwine with hers.

Natasha pulls away to rest her forehead on yours.

“Thank you…” she says softly.

“You’re welcome. But I’m not done with you yet.”

She leans back to look you in the eyes and her incredulous expression makes you laugh.

“You’ve done more than enough. Let me at least—”

“Nuh uh,” you interrupt her, moving from behind her to saddle her waist. She makes a noise of surprise when you push her fully into the bed.

You steal a kiss from her as your hands travel up her torso to raise her shirt over head and toss it to the floor. Leaning back, you can finally appreciate the sight of her bare chest rising to meet you. You take a pink nipple into your mouth, humming in satisfaction when Natasha lets out a little moan. Her hands grip your hair to keep you close. Your tongue swirls around the hardened bud, coating it so it shines in the light when you pull away. You waste no time in sucking the other one, hard and fast, enjoying the feel of it in your mouth and Natasha’s growing pleasure.

Your own lips shine with saliva when you tear your mouth from her chest and look up at her in reverence.

“You’re so pretty, Nat,” her lidded gaze meets yours as you speak, blood rushing to her cheeks. “I wanna fuck you until you can’t walk.”

“Oh…” is all she can say, bringing one hand to partly cover her flushing face.

“But,” you move to take off her pajama pants completely before settling between her thighs and wrapping your arms around them, “I said I’d help you relax, not incapacitate you… I’ll choose my words more carefully next time.”

Her heel digs into your back when you bury your nose in her slick cunt. She’s intoxicating and still so sensitive from her previous orgasm that you only need to blow on her clit for it to twitch. Your tongue darts out to taste her fully, the flat of it licking up her slit to take her pulsing clit into your mouth. Natasha’s hips push against you even as her thighs shake from the stimulation and the hand in your hair pulls you closer to her slippery sex. All you can hear, feel, taste is her. The noises she makes are a melody to your ears and the warmth that overcomes you can’t be put into words. You trail wet kisses all over her cunt, groaning at the way it pulses under you.

You focus on her clit, sucking and licking and teasing until her thighs close in on you, pressing against your ears.

“F-Fuck…”

Natasha rarely swears. Knowing how much of a mess you’re making of her for her to utter such a word is such a turn on. You squeeze your legs together in a failed attempt at relieving the pressure between them. You want tonight to be all about her, so you ignore your needs and slurp her folds like a starved kitten. The tip of your nose bumps her clit as you do and Natasha’s soft mewls spur you on.

It doesn’t take long before she’s coming into your mouth with a long moan, hips bucking closer to your tongue. You lap up the arousal leaking from her puffy cunt and let her grind into your face until her orgasm passes. Natasha falls back into the bed after a moment, audibly panting, eyes still squeezed shut. You look up to see her features slowly morph into a tired, fucked out expression. Pulling away from her sex, you lick your lips and wipe your face with your clean hand.

You climb up the bed to press a tender kiss to her jaw. Her eyes blink open, her gaze warm and in love as she looks at you.

You cup her cheek with a hand and mutter, “I hate to ask more of you, but promise me you’ll make an effort to take better care of yourself. For me?”

Natasha sighs, lips stretching into a small smile. “If I can’t, you’ll be there to do it for me?”

“Of course. Anything for you.”

[baeshijima]

AFTER NEARLY A YEAR AND A HALF

SHE IS FINALLY HOME 😭😭😭

[thedemises]

——— COLD HANDS。 ★ sunday.

note; I don't think I wrote my boy sunday good enough to the canon..... anyways I took inspiration from the fact that my hands r always cold so why not 😈 (I totally didn't take a week to finish this hahahahah this turned out a lot longer than I expected,,,, over 2k.... 😦)

tagging; @aventurineswife :3

you could've barely noticed it at first, but the tips of your fingers were slowly growing numb as time passes, likely due to the cold humidity in the room. however, you hardly care, letting yourself sink into the serene stillness in the party car of the astral express.

it had always been a normal occurrence for your hands to feel much colder than anyone else's, and it was a bother at times when you would unintentionally graze your own hand against a part of your body — however, you managed to find a small advantage in it; often pressing your icy fingers against your friends' necks as a small, playful prank.

you can remember the priceless expressions on your fellow express members' faces whenever you pull such an act on them without their awareness and the thought of it barely makes you chuckle to yourself on any occasion. heh, the corner of your lips quirk up into a sly smirk without your intentions.

though you wouldn't recommend doing that to the conductor of the train...

pointer fingers lightly tap on each other with hands clasped together, you stay seated with legs crossed as your eyes occasionally scan the room carefully for a potential candidate to interact with. member or guest, you just want to talk to pass the time. (shush isn't really fun to converse with, in your opinion; other than those jokes, he's a gentleman but not quite interesting enough in your eyes. though you're curious about shush's creator; the one who made the mixologist).

the top of your shoe taps against the polished floor, in a steady rhythm made up by your mind — or coming from a song you had in your mind for a while now — while you eventually spot your victim possible conversationist.

a young man standing at the farthest corner of the cart, in a bicolored tailcoat and small wings behind his ears which are of similar tone to his muted blue hair as a golden halo floats behind the head. they flap and twitch from time to time and he is merely unbothered by the silence in the area (besides the sound of glass cups clinking from shush cleaning them and that lady in a purple veil looking over some tarot cards floating in her hands), the halovian simply stares about at the space outside the cabin with a sort of... longing look in his eyes.

...

ah, sunday — former head of the oak family and older brother of the interastral famous idol; robin. honestly; you weren't really involved in the whole penacony catastrophe since you, alongside dan heng, decided to stay behind in the express until you made the decision to go and went along with the archivist (and a certain galaxy ranger who was practically hijacking the parlor car, and with a gun pointed at the reserved train guardian no less) and then assisting the others in taking down that damned giant mechanical monstrosity and that damned giant mechanical monstrosity's sea angel-looking things.

and now with that event taken care of and calming down, it's a bit of a surprise when the guy who tried to basically kill the other astral express members aboards the same train that railed him over a couple times and is now trying to redeem himself from the goal where he tried to turn everyone's dream into a complacent bliss by taking everyone's free will & future in the process.

instead of the one who (though, unintentionally) almost ascended to aeonhood, sunday is reduced to a mere passenger on the express train you too aboard on. what a life turning of events.

and with the idea of spooking him as well settles at the top of your mind.

the mischievous thought solidifies, and your eyes gleam with a subtle spark of excitement. sunday seems like the perfect target — a mix of composed and distant, a far cry from the usual express members who might anticipate your pranks by now; considering how long it has been since you've been a member.

your cold fingers itch with anticipation, the chill now feels like an asset rather than a hindrance — and it feels like the oh-so perfect moment to do so.

you rise from your seat slowly, careful not to make a sound that would alert him to your approach, as your steps are light, muffled by the carpeted floor of the party car. the young halovian seems deeply engrossed in the view beyond the window, the distant in his gaze making you almost reconsider — just for half a second. however, the faint smirk creeping up onto your lips reminds you of your current goal.

and who are you to shy away so quickly from an itching opportunity to fill your satisfaction?

as you inch closer behind with the quietest of steps, his ear wings twitch slightly, making you pause your movements. they’re... quite delicate up close than you realized, the translucent blue edges of each pale feather shimmering faintly and you were almost distracted by them. almost.

why yes, you were curious about his halovian features but now's not the time to ponder, you...

with deft fingers, you gently brush aside a curtain of his muted blue hair, exposing the nape of his neck. it's quite warmer than you expected — soft, almost inviting — and, while at the back of your mind you were a bit baffled how sunday barely even noticed what you were doing, it takes every ounce of self-control not to giggle at the thought of what’s about to happen.

“ah, what’s the point of hesitation now?” you mutter under your breath before plunging your frozen-like fingers onto the bare skin of his neck—

—the reaction you got was instantaneous. sunday’s breath hitches audibly and a low, startled gasp escapes his lips as his entire body jolts from the sudden, icy shock at the nape of his neck; his posture was rigid as if struck by lightning as his ear wings snap open instinctively, flaring out like a startled bird's — the sharp motion sends a soft, fleeting breeze through the air, ruffling your hair slightly.

“by the stars—!” he gasps, eyes wide and glimmering like fractured glass as a hand flies up to cover the assaulted area as if to guard it from another ambush from your shenanigans. his intriguing golden halo hovering behind his head wavers slightly, tilting as though reflecting his momentary loss of composure, and his cheeks flushed a light peachy red from the heat of surprise.

the young man spins around after a small beat of silence with a sharp intake of breath, his expression a mix of shock and confusion, the serene mask he wore moments ago completely shattered.

your hands had already retracted when sunday covered the back of his own neck, and you can't help the laughter that spills out of you; unrestrained and shameless.

“wo—ow!” you manage between bouts of mirth, a hand barely covers your mouth to partially drown out half the noise you were making within the usually quiet cart. “that... that was... absolutely priceless, sunday...!” your voice wavers and slightly cracks at the end of your sentence, still carried by the remnants of your laughter; the amusement from the entire situation clearly written all over your face.

for a moment, he just stares at you, caught between the bewilderment and indignation of your little prank... then, his brows knit together in a way that’s almost endearing, and his lips press into a tight line. “what… was that for?” his careful voice carries the faintest tremor, as though he’s still recovering from the shock of the chill.

eventually, you've recovered from your little laughing fit enough to answer sunday properly this time, as a hand of yours reached up to wipe off a small tear from your eyes. “oh, come on,” you lightly tease, leaning against a nearby chair with a smug grin. “you were just.. idly standing over there, looking all broody and mysterious; I couldn’t resist.”

sunday exhales sharply, visibly trying to collect himself. his wings fold back into place with a soft rustle, and his hand lingers protectively over his neck before letting it hang by his side.

“I was merely... thinking.”

“hm? about what?” asked you while tilting your head.

the halovian hesitates as the faint blush lingering on his cheeks gradually fades, leaving his complexion noticeably paler. “nothing that concerns you.”

“huh, is that so?” you drawl, tapping your chin as if in deep thought. “perhaps I have just found a new mystery to solve — cracking sunday’s enigmatic shell.”

“i— don’t even think about it,” he mutters, though there’s a flicker of something in his tone — a hint of amusement, perhaps? the left wing behind his ear twitches subtly before steadying behind him, but the slight folding of both ear wings toward his face betrays his embarrassment.

amused by his actions, you chuckle to yourself again and fold your arms over your chest. “you’ll have to lighten up eventually, y’know sunny. can’t stay all reserved and quiet forever.”

“don't—” sunday abruptly stops himself, then he sighs in exasperation of your antics. “you’re insufferable. but please refrain from calling me that in the future.”

“and you’re fun to mess with.” you flash him a cheeky smirk, already contemplating your next move. after all, what’s life aboard the astral express without a little bit of mischief?

“also, why not? but, however, if that's what you want...”

as sunday just turns away to the side just a bit, you straighten up your posture, still all smiley and smirking whatnot. you can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment; breaking through the usually quiet halovian's composure felt like a minor victory in itself. the quiet hum of the astral express fills the air again as the moment between you fades into the serene stillness of the party car.

still, something about the faint blush lingering on sunday’s cheeks keeps tugging at your thoughts. veneath the cool exterior and formal demeanor lies a person who, much like everyone else aboard this train, carries their own scars and stories. you might be good at teasing and poking a bit here and there, but you’re not oblivious to the weight he seems to bear — especially with what happened in the recent events.

the mood shifts slightly as you observe him quietly — he has resumed gazing out the window, though his expression is much softer now, his wings no longer bristling but relaxed. the golden halo behind him stabilizes, the light coming from the lights inside the party cart casting a faint glow that makes him look almost ethereal.

“you know,” you say, breaking the silence. sunday still gazes into the galaxy beyond the window but he secretly listens to whatever you're about to say. “I’m not always about pranks — however, if you ever feel like talking about whatever’s on your mind, I can lend you an ear too.”

the young man turns his head toward you, his brows raise up a little in mild surprise. for a moment, he seems to study you, as if trying to gauge your sincerity — finally, he exhales, and a small, almost imperceptible smile touches his lips.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

the response is brief but carries a surprising warmth that wasn’t there before. you nod in response, satisfied, and let the quietness stretch out again. maybe there’s more to sunday than meets the eye, and perhaps, in time, he’ll let you see a little more of what lies beneath his enigmatic exterior in the near future of trailblazing expeditions.

the sliding doors to the party car slide open suddenly, and ever-so bubbly march 7th bounces in as her ever-cheerful energy fills the space of the previous serene atmosphere. “hey! what’s going on in here? did I miss something fun?”

you almost can’t resist glancing at sunday with a small mischievous glint in your eye, the latter in question softly groans and shakes his head to himself.

“oh, really nothing much. I was merely giving our newest passenger a warm welcome.”

the bubblegum-haired girl glances between the two of you, a bit curious what the two of you were doing a bit earlier. “huh.. really though? because it looks like you were up to no good again.”

“awh— wait, me? never,” you tilt your head slightly as your voice takes on an exaggerated tone of mock-innocence. behind you, sunday exhales sharply and his eyes narrow as he pinches the bridge of his nose. march 7th crosses her arms, arching a brow before both of them briefly exchange a shared look — one that speaks volumes about their exasperation.

as the conversation shifts to lighter topics, the laughter and camaraderie in the room slowly build, filling the once-quiet space with warmth and life. even the young halovian seems to ease into the dynamic, his reserved nature softening just a bit as he listens to the banter around him.

in this moment, you realize that life aboard the astral express isn’t just about the journeys or the destinations — it’s about the people you share them with, the stories you create, and the bonds you forge along the way.

and as the stars continue to streak past outside into the milky way, you can’t help but feel that this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

© thedemises 2024. all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, copy, or feed my written works to ai.

[scribbless-n-stuff]

I'm here to request since I can't write shit.

Dan Heng came home unexpected and even gave me his lightcone early. I'm screaming 😭😭😭

Anyway, I really want to just coddle him up. Pepper his face with kisses, hugs, play with his cheeks, he's just too adorable I can't

This is more of a ramble sorry. I hope you can write something out of this. Thank youu

Late Night Longings

Characters

Dan Heng (IL or not, depends on your imagination <3)

Warnings/Info

FLUFF!!! INTENSE FLUFF!!!

Author’s Notes

LET’S GAURRR CONGRATS ON GETTING DAN HENG & HIS LIGHT CONE, ANON REQUESTER!!!

Oh god I’m actually tweaking over this beautiful man (I’m a lesbian)

might as well make this a Dan Heng fan acc bro

Hopefully this doesn't disappoint...

After another week-long adventure, the Astral Express team finally boards back on the train. The mission was tough, almost everyone was tired and drained, including you. The train’s doors close, leaving the train car quiet. 

Himeko, who was keeping in check of the duties inside the Express, approaches you from her seat. You feel a hand on your shoulder, “Welcome back, Y/n, how are you feeling?” the red-haired lady asks.

You let out a tired smile, “All good, just tired.. I should go and rest....” Your voice trails off, as you look around for your partner, Dan Heng. However, he was nowhere to be found. He probably went straight to his room. 

Smiling bittersweetly, You let out a heavy sigh, drooping down in fatigue. Your brain was basically falling asleep as you were standing up. 

The sound of light chuckling pulls you back to reality. “Alright, sleep well then.” Himeko withdraws her hand from your shoulder, giving you a smile. She leaves your side, to check on the others. You nod back before also turning away, to go to your room. 

The last sounds you hear, before exiting the parlor car are March’s whiney complaints about how troublesome the mission was. You fondly smile, the crew was like family to you. However, someone was missing. 

Entering your room, you sigh and discard your clothes, getting into more comfortable ones. You also go to wash your face and brush your teeth. By the time you get on your bed, you stretch out your limbs and pop your joints. 

You yawn, as your mind drifts to Dan Heng. “He’s probably tired… Might as well give him space tonight..” you think, before getting into your sheets and wrapping yourself into a blanket. However, you couldn’t help but feel a bit sad, missing the closeness of your partner. Nevertheless, you needed your rest. 

As you felt the snugness of your mattress and pillows, you fell asleep almost immediately, lightly snoring as you dreamt of nothing. That’s how you know you’re having the best sleep of your life.

...

… knock knock

The sound of knocking on your door disturbs your deep slumber, you grumble in annoyance. As you peek open your eyes, you could literally feel eyebags forming below your eyes. You turn your head over to your nightstand to look at the digital clock. 

2:43 AM. 

You squint your eyes and huff in disbelief of the current time. Ultimately, you decide to ignore the knocking. Besides, it was almost 3 AM, there was no way you were gonna be awake during witching hour.

Flopping back down, your head lays back down against the pillow, shutting your eyes back closed. As your whole body relaxes once more, your facial features relax too. Finally… sweet, sweet slumber…

…

… knock, knock, knock

Your eyes snap back open, feeling your anger flare up. Hopping out of bed, temporarily bidding goodbye to your warm blankets, you stomp towards the door of your room. You whip open your door. 

“Can’t it wait ‘til morning?” You sharply scoff, before looking up to see a pair of teal eyes. It was Dan Heng, in more casual attire. Except, you couldn’t see his clothes much because he was loosely wrapped around in his blue blanket. 

“Oh!-” Upon seeing that it was him, you immediately regretted your harsh words, just because you were tired.

“Apologies..” The poor boy mumbles sleepily. “I’ll go back to my room..” Dan Heng sniffles, because of the cold air, as he turns away. His hair was tousled up, looking absolutely adorable, which made you feel even more guilty. 

You immediately reach out to yank him back by the hand. “NOOO WAIT!” you exclaim. “I’m sorry, I was tired..” 

Dan Heng blinks at you, feeling a bit surprised by your raised voice.  “It’s fine.. I shouldn’t have knocked so late.” He mutters. 

Tugging again at his hand, “Apology accepted…” You look at him with adoration, it was truly a rare sight to see this man so vulnerable, due to his usual stoic behavior and expression. “Do you wanna come in?” You offer, feeling happier now that your partner was here, disregarding the late hour. 

The next second, you see a small smile appear on his face. 

“Yes, please..”

With this, he basically engulfed you in his arms, also wrapping you in the blanket draped around his figure. Your yelp is muffled into his torso, suddenly bearing his body’s weight. You do your best to drag him to your bed, hugging him by the waist. 

Dan Heng clumsily waddles to the bed, still holding onto you out of clinginess. Eventually, you pry yourself out of his hold, pushing him onto your bed. “Man.. you’re different when you’re sleepy.” You huff at him, as he looks up at you with a sleepy expression. He doesn’t respond.

You smile, before also getting into bed, beside him. His and your legs tangle together, as you position yourself just a bit higher than him, so that his head is around the same level as your collarbone and neck.

His eyes were already closed, falling back asleep. Poor little thing must have woken up randomly, then decided to come to you for comfort. You coo at him, cupping his face with one hand and leaning in to kiss him on the forehead. 

Dan Heng furrows his eyebrows at his, as you feel his cheeks grow warm. Upon registering this reaction, you snicker, deciding to coddle him up even more. You release your next attack on his nose, giving him a quick peck. After that, you go to both of his cheeks, giving him four kisses on each one. 

“Mmmmfff..” The boy mumbles at you, the warm fluttering feeling swelling up in his chest was feeling too strong. The combination of the late hour and his fatigue were a dangerous combination. Nevertheless, he doesn’t tell you to stop… Or maybe he’s too tired to. 

Regardless, you wouldn’t stop either way. 

“You’re sooo cute~”  Finally, you kiss his lips. Slowly and tenderly, lightly biting his lower lip to tease him. This was the last straw for him. 

“You’re waking me…” Dan Heng muffles against your lips, but you just swallow up his words, as you pull away and give him another quick peck. Ignoring him, as you repeatedly kiss his face in the same order as before, except, more aggressive and affectionate. He blushes madly as his face scrunches up in feigned discomfort, but he secretly enjoys it. 

After a bit, he’s had enough, seriously wanting to sleep now. Dan Heng uses the last of his physical strength and energy to push and roll you onto your back. He gets on top of you, mainly to pin you down and restrict you from any movement to disturb him. The comfortability and closeness were just bonus points.

“Stop. Sleep.” He muffles again, as he nestles his face against your chest. As you’re pushed down, you feel your face heating up at the change of position. Even he felt slightly flustered and embarrassed at his own boldness, but he couldn’t help himself. 

You whine a bit at the loss of control, but you sigh and give in, feeling tired too. One of your hands is brought to his back, as you run it up and down to generate warmth for him. As for your free hand, you tangle your fingers in his hair, gently massaging his scalp to further lull him to sleep. 

Dan Heng on the other hand, his arms were still wrapped around your waist from earlier, holding you against him like a needy koala. The feeling of your fingers caressing against his hair made him let out a shaky sigh. He felt so content, and so did you.